North Star
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter Eleven:
Bella
The Quileute Tribe is small, the population of La Push even smaller. It's one of those places wherein everyone knows everyone else, if not personally, then by name, face, or word of mouth.
I am not surprised, therefore, when Sue strikes up a conversation with the couple introduced as Adam and Kala Lahote. She includes Paul and I, too, and drifts between English and Quileute as she quizzes us and talks about our thoughts of the day, of the bonfire and story night yet to come, and about how Paul and I have been settling into La Push and Forks, respectively.
Eventually, though, Sue and the elder Lahotes drift into conversation regarding current intra and inter tribal politics, and I turn to Paul, feeling a little awkward. Leah's still got her headphones in, blasting death metal for all it's worth, and she is not remotely interested in making conversation. Meanwhile, Seth's wandered off to hang out with his friends, and little Naomi has dozed off in her grandfather's arms. It leaves Paul and I, and although I have no idea what to say to him, I'd feel weird if I didn't say anything at all.
It helps - or perhaps it doesn't, depending on how you look at it - that Paul's rather good looking, with high cheekbones, a patrician nose, and a jaw that can probably cut glass. He's got a nice smile, too, rare as it seems to be, and a lean, toned physique beneath a tight-fitting T-shirt and a pair of swim trunks. By rights, he should be lanky, gangly in awkward in that way of teenaged boys who've grown a lot in a relatively short amount of time, but he's not, and I'm intrigued. I'm drawn in by the patience he'd shown his sister, by the care with which he'd treated his grandparents, by the subtle confidence that seems to radiate off him with every move he makes.
"You're a junior, right?" I ask, for lack of anything else to say. School's a fairly uninteresting topic, all things considered, but it's safe, unlikely to incite any emotional triggers, and it's better than nothing.
"Yeah, I am, technically," Paul confirms.
"Technically?"
"I'm on track to graduate in June," he explains, "I was in a fast track program in Tacoma. It carried over."
Paul says it without any airs, as though his accomplishment isn't something to be proud of, as though it's not at all noteworthy, and I have to consciously force myself not to gape like an idiot.
"That's pretty awesome," I acknowledge instead, for lack of anything else to say, "Do you know what you want to do when you graduate? You probably get asked that a lot, I guess…"
"Pretty often," he confirms, a small, humoured smile on his face, and then he shrugs, "The plan is to study Architecture at the University of Washington, but I think I'll take a year off, first."
Paul glances at his sister, then, conked out even as conversation picks up around them, and I don't need to ask him why. It's abundantly obvious he's very close to her, and I can't imagine it would be easy to separate from her after losing their parents so recently.
"What about you?" Paul queries, "Have you thought about what you want to do after high school?"
"Not really," I admit, "I guess I need to, though."
"You've got some time."
Behind Paul, the sun disappears beyond the horizon. The last dregs of daylight linger, and the gathered council members disperse from where they've huddled around Billy Black.
Jacob, next to his father, his long hair bound in a tail at the nape of his neck, has a wide-belly drum perched between his knees. He drums it now, a low, rolling sound that carries across the beach, over the water, and through the trees, and the gathered tribe members fall expectantly silent.
Next to me, Sue impatiently swats Leah's side until, irritably, Leah tugs off her headphones, shuts off her mp3 player, and casts a disinterested gaze towards Billy, and to the stories he's about to tell. No doubt, she's heard them all before - like me, Leah could probably recite them in her sleep - but in this instance, it'd be rude not to listen.
I'm not sure why Leah wouldn't want to, though. Life may be shit for her at present, but Billy Black comes alive at these bonfires, and as he tells our tribe's stories, he has a way about him that demands attention.
It helps, of course, that he's a stupendous story teller, and like every other time before today, he does not disappoint.
Long ago, when Spirit Protectors walked these lands…"
When the stories come to an end, I help the stragglers clear up. Paul, Seth, Leah, and Jacob do too, and before long, the bonfire has been put out, Billy is secure in Jake's car, chatting with Sue and Harry through the window, and I linger near my truck, accompanied by Jacob and Seth. Paul's already gone, disappeared into the night with his family, and I idly wonder about when I'll next get the chance to see him.
"Thanks for helping out, Bells," Jake says. He sounds tired, and I assume (correctly) that he's been helping Billy all afternoon. Such is his obligation - or duty, perhaps - as Billy's primary caretaker.
It's more than that, though. Jake's going to be Chief of the Tribe one day, with all of the rights and responsibilities therein, and Billy's health isn't what it used to be. As a result, he's been teaching Jake all he needs to know - the legends, the customs, the tribal politics, and then some - earlier than anyone would like.
Unsurprisingly, the responsibility - and reality - takes it's toll.
Not for the first time, I think of Rachel and Rebecca, and resentment festers in my heart.
"It's fine, Jake," I assure him, "I'm not in any rush."
Jacob smiles wanly, accepts the sideways hug I offer him, and then wordlessly opens the cab door to my truck. I haul myself in without prompting, crank down my window, and lean on the frame to address Jacob and Seth both.
"Will I be seeing you guys tomorrow morning?"
"Bright and early," Seth confirms.
"Wouldn't miss it," Jake concurs. He tugs lightly at a curl of my hair, "Get outta here, Bells."
"Drive safe," Seth adds.
I salute my acknowledgement, ignite the engine, and make my way home with a tired sigh. It's been a long day, and despite how much I've enjoyed myself, I'm glad it's over.
Presumably, Charlie, dozing in front of the TV, the volume turned down low, agrees with me.
Author's Note: There's supposed to be another POV in this chapter, but Jacob, Jared, and Paul didn't work for plot reasons, and I find I'm honestly nervous to delve into the Leah/Sam/Emily mess. It's a quagmire of emotional damage/baggage, and I'm not even sure where to start with it. I'll get there though. Eventually.
Until then, you can (hopefully) look forward to an extra long Chapter 12 to make up for it. Maybe. If it works out, anyway.
Otherwise, thanks a bunch for all your support, guys and gals. Until next time, -t.