Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight

Chapter 9 - Port Angeles

When I wake up I'm momentarily blinded by the inordinate amount of light filling the room. It's still sunny in Forks, for the third day in a row. It's going to go down in the Guinness book of records. I waltz downstairs in a really good mood. Is it only the sunshine or the prospect of meeting Lynn again? Hard to tell. When I think of her I still feel my temperature seesaw between tropical heat and arctic cold. My friends' revelations haven't really changed that. In the clear sunlight of a new morning it's hard not to laugh about those fantasies, except I saw legendary creatures come to life right in front of me. I can't explain that away. I don't drink or do drugs so there aren't many avenues to explore. I saw what I saw, but I'll worry about that later.

When I reach the school, I park my beastly truck in my usual spot and look around. The Cullens are nowhere to be seen. Maybe they'll be late today. Jessica comes over, her smile sunny and radiant; I'm thinking of a moonlit one instead. Nevertheless, I smile back at her, my mood buoyed by the unexpected weather, and we walk together to school. She sounds pretty excited. She's trying to put together a shopping trip to Port Angeles for this evening. Since the weather is nice we could also go for a walk. Angela, Eric, Mike and Jeff have already agreed to go. I'm unsure, but it looks like the Cullens are not going to show up today. I hide my sudden bout of despair and I agree to join their expedition. I might be able to find a real bookstore over there.

The rest of the day doesn't reserve many surprises. At lunch the Cullens' table sits empty and forlorn, a mirror for my feelings of dejection. The others chat excitedly about our upcoming trip, but they also decide to postpone it until tomorrow so Lauren can join us. She's behind on a report and needs to get it done tonight. I have a report due Wednesday but it's already finished, and tonight I could have really used the distraction. Maybe it's for the best; I still have some pretty serious thinking to do and some decisions to make that I can't postpone anymore. Throughout lunch, I sigh often, still wondering why the Cullens aren't at school, and contribute little to my friends' conversation.

After school I head straight home, still a little grumpy despite the awesome weather. I toss my backpack on the bed and head out right away. My chest is still a little sore but it won't stop me. It's a short four miles hike to my destination, a hollow tree I use as a landmark on my treks. It's on top of a hill and the spot offers a tiny bit of a view, through a gap in the trees, of the town of Forks. The trail continues past it; I still haven't explored it to the end but I won't have enough daylight to go any farther today.

By the time I get there a thin film of sweat covers my forehead. It's a little warmer than usual and I've been walking at a stiff pace. I sit on a moss-swathed log next to the hollow tree and put my thinking cap on. I cannot doubt Jacob's tales or avoid thinking about them any longer. I have to face the facts. I dare to think of the word I've been desperately trying to dodge the whole day: vampires. Well, not the vampires from the movies, so there is a lot I still don't know yet. Like, would it even be possible for them to, er, have a relationship with a human? If I want to learn more about them, Lynn is my only option. The real question is… Do I really and truly want to learn more about the Cullens, about vampires, or even about my wolfish friends? I appear to have reached a crossroads of sorts, a major turning point in my life.

I think only two courses of action are realistically open to me…

Logically, becoming even more involved with all this madness is probably a bad idea. There are dangers involved and, ignorant as I am of this world whose existence I'd never even imagined, I'm bound to get into trouble. The only sane option is the following: ask Lynn to leave me alone and mean it, finish my high school, and get the hell out of Dodge-Forks and as far away from here as soon as I possibly can. My father has lived here all his life so I'm sure he's not in danger, but I already know things he doesn't, and Lynn and my friends on the rez know I'm not as oblivious as other humans. This is all bad karma, as my mother likes to say. Yup, calling it quits is just what any sensible, reasonable, ordinary human would and should do.

Is it what I'm going to do, though?

Lynn Cullen is very attractive, but so are many other girls. Forgetting her shouldn't be too hard. Except, it would be. I can feel it. I try to imagine a life without her smile breaking through the cloud cover, bringing me my moonlight. Pain becomes my middle name; Brandon Pain Swan has a certain ring to it. It's a pain so sublime, and so pervasive, it's hard to describe. Can I really face this much agony on a daily basis and survive?

Also, Jacob's truths shook me to my core. This is not the same world I inhabited until a few days ago. It's become something much more sinister, and yet much more fascinating. Can I really spend the rest of my life pretending none of this happened, denying that miracles can be real? For what? A life of routine, until the inevitable, premature end…. Death always comes too soon, and for me it should have come with that van, in the school's parking lot.

I realize I'm living on stolen time now, and just like that, I know what my decision is. The Brandon Swan who just wanted to go to college, get a teaching job and maybe raise some kids was crushed to a pulp, caught between a truck and a spinning van. I won't spend the second life Lynn gifted me playing it safe. I will go where my heart wants me to, and that means Lynn herself. I can only see heartbreak ahead, in the short term if I misread her interest or in the long term if I didn't, but it's a chance I'll have to take. Nothing else matters.

I start heading back; I don't have much sunlight left and I'd rather not have to use the headlamp I brought along just in case. At least I feel lighter now; I can be indecisive, but once I've made up my mind I stick to my guns. I don't know what the future has in store for me but I can't wait to find out. It's a brand new world out there, and it's much more unpredictable and scarier than I'd ever imagined.

As I trudge along I think of Lynn, her tiny nose puckering along with a frown, her hesitant manner when she bites her lip, the dimples of her smile, and most of all her…. I don't know if there is a word for it…. Her attitude, I guess. How she doesn't play by the usual rules. How she seems different from everybody around her. The way she makes me feel when we are together. I must admit I'm in love with her; there is no other explanation for the turmoil she has brought into my life.

My dad arrives at the same time as I emerge from the trail. Neither of us feels like cooking; he takes me to his favorite diner in his cruiser. Is it a good thing to be the son of the chief of police in a small town? The jury's still out on that one, but I don't really care anymore. Over steaks, he asks me about the girl I like. I tell him I haven't seen her in a few days; today they were all absent.

"Oh, yes, on sunny days doctor Cullen takes the whole family camping and hiking. They've probably decided to extend their weekend trip. They do many things together."

"You really like them…" I mumble. So that's why they didn't show up. Based on recent information, I think there might be more to those absences than my dad thinks. I'm afraid he will press me for details, but I don't need to worry. He doesn't, for which I am thankful. It's not like he has a lot more experience than me anyways. His first love was his only one thus far.

Tuesday morning I wake up to more sunlight. Fourth day in a row, the end of the world is nigh. I feel at once thrilled and depressed. The sun lifts my spirits, but it also means the Cullens won't show up. At lunch, their empty table confirms my fears. My friends are busy discussing our trip to Port Angeles and chatter up a storm. I sit at the edges, sullen and abstract. Eventually their eagerness becomes contagious. I look forward to any kind of distraction, even though I don't really care about our destination.

I find myself in Mike's car after a blurry, forgettable day. I sit at the back and study the view: trees, ferns, shrubs, the occasional deer sighting. The edge of the sky is turning to ash; there is hope tomorrow our mysterious schoolmates will be back from their trip. I still wonder if there is some specific reason for this pattern. I don't think the sunlight can hurt them; clouds or no clouds they are obviously able to walk around in the daytime. I'm surprised nobody else noticed that, despite their outdoor activities, they always look pale. I guess I'm the only one who pays attention to them. I wonder what that says about me.

"Brandon," Jessica, wedged between me and Jeff's sister, Rachel, at the back, pokes me in the ribs, eliciting a pained grunt. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot about your injury. Anyways, you've been awfully quiet the last couple of days. Even more quiet than you usually are…." Tyler is arguing something baseball-related with Mike. Their voices are a constant buzz at the front of the car.

"I haven't slept well lately."

"Your injury bothering you?"

"A little." I have no intention of telling her about Lynn.

"Are you still going to Seattle on Saturday?"

"Yup. No dance for me. But I'm sure you'll have fun."

She has an epiphany and, realizing that getting me to talk will require some advanced dentistry today, she decides to chat with Rachel instead; they talk about dresses for the dance before moving on to high school drama, their dates for the event, namely Mike and Tyler, and the happy couples in the other car. After we park in Port Angeles' downtown strip, we all split up and agree to reconvene in an hour to have dinner together. Jeff and Laura go for a romantic walk along the sea; maybe they'll get the ice cream they were talking about. Jessica and Rachel go dress hunting for the dance they're so excited about, and probably want a chance to gossip away from the guys. I join Mike, Eric and Angela in a sporting goods store and have a look at their hiking boots. The ones I brought from Phoenix are about to self-destruct and were never designed for Washington's climate anyways. I get bored quickly, though, and tell the other guys I want to go look for novels.

Online, I found the address of Port Angeles' one and only bookstore and printed out a map. It's a bit of a slog from here, but I don't mind. The evening is pleasantly mild, by local standards, and I enjoy spending time outdoors. Unfortunately, the shop is just a tiny booth wedged between a Subway and a Seven Eleven, and its selection is rather limited. I only find one book I wanted: a used copy of Chandler's "The Long Goodbye".

On the way to my rendezvous with my friends I space out a bit. Thoughts and questions concerning Lynn Cullen swirl in my head, keening like a flock of bats looking for a way out of an underground cave. I wonder whether she likes me or not, how different from normal humans she really is, whether I will have a chance to kiss her. Or I think of Jacob and Rebecca, and werewolves. Normal schoolmates have become so mundane.

Distracted by my pointless musings I lose my way and end up near the port. A crane sits near the docks but there aren't many people around. Shuttered warehouses cluster in the dusk. Styrofoam cups roll in the gutters. Brick walls, rusting padlocks, rotting cornices. The few passersby I spot don't look friendly at all and I almost bump into a couple of guys who look daggers at me for no apparent reason. I ignore them and use the sea as landmark to figure out how to find the main street on my own. After a few more detours I end up at the restaurant more than one hour late. The boys, Angela, and Jeff's girlfriend are just coming out. When they spot me they hurry to join me.

"Brandon, aren't Jessica and Rachel with you?" Eric asks me right away. Come to think of it, they look a little worried. Enough to shake me off my torpor.

"Huh? No, why would they? Didn't they go shopping for clothes?"

"Like you, they never showed up for dinner." Mike, scanning the area, his neck swiveling left and right.

"Have you tried calling them?"

"No, we don't have a good signal here. Do you have your phone?"

"No. I forgot to bring it."

"By the way, we already ate. Sorry, we were hungry." Eric, with an apologetic grin stamped on his face.

"Should we look for them?" Laura asks in a shrill voice. I'm about to answer when I hear a screech of tires against tarmac. I look around in a hurry and break into a sudden cold sweat, mindful of my misadventure in the parking lot. I see a black car swerve into a spot fifty feet from us, on my left. The others are still debating looking for the girls, or even contacting local authorities, when we hear Jessica calling our names. She's getting out of the black car, with Rachel. The driver gets out as well. It's Lynn Cullen herself. I stare at her dumbfounded, speechless. That's right, it's their black BMW. As we hasten to join them Jessica and Rachel thank Lynn profusely.

"Girls, what's going on? Where were you?" Mike and Eric, relieved but a little shocked.

Lynn stands by her car, looking impassively at the scene.

"We were looking for a shop we saw online and we got lost." Jessica explains, flushed and blustery. Rachel clings to her jacket, paler than usual. "Some guys surrounded us, started making rude comments. It was awful. They were drunk, or on drugs, and totally out of control." She continues, staring at Mike, maybe hoping he will hug her. I don't think their relationship is at that stage yet.

"God knows what they would have done to us." Rachel suddenly whispers, "if it wasn't for Lynn….."

"Out of nowhere, Lynn drove around the corner so fast she almost ran over one of those animals. We jumped in her car and she took us back here. Rachel is right, those guys were going to hurt us. She saved us."

We all look at Lynn, now, still stolidly contemplating the scene from a distance, impassive and aloof.

And everybody's talking at once, thanking Lynn again or inquiring about Jessica and Rachel's state of mind. The girls hug each other. The boys try to console them. I don't pay any attention to them. I just look into Lynn's eyes, now a deep gold. Streaks of amber curl at the edges of the iris. I could lose myself in those depths. She stares back, her body tense. I don't think she's angry with me but something bothers her. Once in a while she breaks eye contact to cast furious glances behind her.

The other guys decide to drive back right now, even though some of us haven't eaten. Lynn recommends they go home and get something to eat or drink before they go into shock. For Rachel it might be too late already. She's barely holding on. Mike buys them a sugary drink from a corner store and that seems to revive them a little, enough for the ride home.

"Brandon….." Lynn finally says to me, her face a carefully neutral mask. "Have you had dinner yet?"

"No." I reply, nascent hope blossoming somewhere below my sternum. "I have not." My expression is just as neutral, despite inner tremors beginning to grow in intensity. Our eyes remain locked, my friends just extras in the background of a movie scene."

"Are you in a hurry to go home?"

"Not really." Well done, Brandon, short and simple. But actually, I'm surprising myself; I'm not really nervous. I know I should be scared of her now but I'm really not. In fact, her mere presence makes me feel bigger, better, stronger. The night sky is not empty any longer.

"Would you like to have dinner with me? I can drive you home afterwards." Something quivers in her eyes. Fear or Hope again? Something else entirely? Everybody has gone silent. Everybody is listening to us. We don't really care, apparently.

"Sure."

The guys surround me. Eric just punches my arm while Mike and Jeff look a little awed.

"Is that what you want man?' Jeff asks in a whisper, mock-serious. I think he watched too many spy movies, but I have to admit Lynn could make a pretty lethal femme fatale.

I nod, mock-solemn. They all laugh and take off. Mike and Eric still look a little dazed, but Lynn and I stand on the sidewalk, next to each other but not touching, and wave goodbye as we watch their cars disappear. Lynn's face is tormented again. I hear her grit her teeth.

"Brandon, talk to me about something…"

"Huh?" Really classy dude, well done.

"Anything. Please distract me. Those men really made me furious. Just jabber on about anything you want."

I get it; I'll save serious topics for later. Her fists are clenched and her jaw looks hard enough to plow concrete.

"Okay, so, I managed to find a bookstore in this forsaken town. Not great, but slightly better than the one in Forks. I bought one novel there. Have you read any of Chandler's books?"

"Yes, sure," she says, looking slightly more relaxed. "Which one did you get?"

"The Long Goodbye. I heard it's good. I really liked 'The Big Sleep'. There is something uncanny about his writing, aside from the outdated slang. If it wasn't clear yet, I'm a bit of a bookworm."

"Tell me about other writers you like…"

"David Mitchell, I suppose. He's British, so at times a little too flamboyant for my tastes, a bit of a show-off really. Still, he can write. He can create very powerful images."

I yak for a while about the plot of one of his novels.

A few minutes later, Lynn exhales loudly.

"Brandon, I have a bit of a temper." That makes it two of us, I think, but I'm glad she looks a little relieved. "Those men…. They were thinking such filth, it's disgusting. They're sickening. Thank you for staying with me… I really don't want to be alone right now. I might go back and kill them. They deserve it, but I really shouldn't."

Wait, I think, can she read minds? I'll ask her later. She's not going anywhere. I smile when I remember we are practically on a date. But then again, no, not really. She says she needs company. She doesn't want to kill them, and I know her threats could be easily carried out. A certain van found that out the hard way. She just needs somebody to talk to. My smile fades.

"What would you like to eat? You choose." She doesn't look at me. I pick a Japanese restaurant that looks pretty cheap and we manage to snag a booth at the back. I order some sushi. Lynn only orders an appetizer."

"You're not hungry?" I ask her, curious.

"Not really." She replies, looking like she's enjoying a private joke. "Besides, I'm on a special diet."

"You look slender enough." I reply before I realize she might be referring to something completely different.

"You noticed." Her lips twist into an impish smile. I smile back.

"Well, yeah, I'm not blind." I stammer, my cheeks already feeling hotter. Actually, I paid little attention to her body. She's shorter than me but slender and still curvy, no complaints there, but I often find myself captivated by her expressions more than anything. How the planes and curves of her features shift to accommodate different moods, and how my feelings seem to respond in kind.

"So, anyways, why did you come to Port Angeles?" I want to ask about her rescue of Jessica and Rachel but I'm worried I might make her upset again. Looks like my topic of choice isn't any better. Her lips tauten.

"Let's talk about something else."

"Okay. How was your camping trip?" As I say that she seems to relax. Maybe she expected a different question.

"It was fine. The weather was pretty good. How was your weekend?"

"It was rather interesting…."

The waitress brings our food. Lynn studies my face, maybe wondering what I will want to know next. As soon as we are alone, I remember something.

"Earlier on you said that those guys' thoughts were gross, depraved….. How do you know? Can you read minds? I mean, obviously you can do some pretty amazing things….."

She just looks at me, uncertain. Maybe she's wondering how much she should tell me. I hope she chooses to go with the truth.

"You can trust me." I insist, my voice soft, cajoling. She bites her lip and suddenly responds.

"Yes, I can. But there is one exception. You."

"Really? I'm the only one whose mind you cannot read? How is that possible?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe your brain works differently from other humans."

"Oh, right. I've always known I'm a freak." I shrug, resigned.

She shakes her head, but her attempt at seriousness fragments into a composite smile and a bitter laugh.

"I tell you I can read minds and you think you're the freak? Don't worry. It's just a theory."

She eats her food but doesn't seem to derive any pleasure from it. I'm pretty happy with my sushi and my soup.

"There is one thing I don't understand. How did you know the girls were in trouble? Did you happen to drive by at the right time?" I'm still wondering why she came to Port Angeles in the first place.

Sure enough, she pouts at first, her jaw twitches, and then she sighs and spills.

"I was driving around and I read the minds of some of those guys. Most of them are harmless pigs full of dirty thoughts but little action, really, but their leader is a nasty piece of work. No empathy. No compassion. Please don't make me think about it. I'm still tempted to go look for him."

"But why were you driving around Port Angeles? Were you bored of Forks? Not that I'd blame you, but if that's the case Seattle is much more interesting and not that far." I wonder whether her absence from school and the lighter eye color are related, but first I'm still curious about her presence here.

She grimaces a little, bites her lip, stares into my eyes. She seems uncertain.

"What is it, Lynn? Tell me, please."

Something in my expression nudges her, and with a strange face, pained but also relieved, she starts speaking faster, eager to get something off her chest.

"I was looking for you, Brandon."

"You were looking for me?" My eyes open wide and I can feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Hope blooms in my heart. "But why?" and of course I had to add a stupid question. Her gaze turns sorrowful, like she's preparing to confess a horrible crime.

"I, well, I was just worried about you. You were almost killed by that van, and then the soccer injury… Come to think of it, why did you finish the game? You were clearly in pain." She was worried about me. My chest feels funny. Warmer. Softer. Like a clumsy surgeon has decided to perform open-heart surgery on me without asking for permission.

"We didn't have any subs left and I didn't want to leave my team shorthanded. Besides, it was a close game and I'm not a quitter. It will take more than a cracked rib to make me leave the pitch. There is something you should know about me, Lynn. I'm stubborn." I add a wry smile to the end of the sentence.

Something stirs in her eyes. She's pondering something. I think she likes my answer.

"But, you said you were driving around….?" I inquire with a shy smile.

"Let's say that, hypothetically, you could read minds, hear people's thoughts. Well, all minds except one, so you wouldn't be able to search for that person directly. What would you do if you still wanted to find him?" She lifts one eyebrow, waiting for my answer.

"Maybe read other people's minds? Just in case they saw the person I'm looking for? But…."

"Yes. You're quick." She doesn't look surprised. It's something she had already figured out. "Maybe too quick. Too observant." Her words imply that she's upset, but something doesn't jibe. There are other emotions at play.

I shake my head.

"At times, Lynn, what you say to me sounds like an enigma wrapped in a riddle and then stuffed inside a charade. How do you even learn to talk like that? I asked you that before but you still haven't answered me."

She laughs and I hear wind chimes pealing in a summer breeze.

"I wish I could speak more clearly…." She murmurs, her eyes turning sad again. The sky I glimpse in her eyes fills with clouds.

"So," I say, trying to derail her sadness, "you were reading Jessica and Rachel's minds?"

She exhales loudly again and starts talking, resigned to her fate now.

"When I arrived in Port Angeles I tried to listen to minds I was familiar with, of people I thought would be with you. I knew that you were in a shop with Mike and other guys, but that you had left. I knew you went toward the port but I wasn't sure of your location. I got a little frustrated. You were alone in a place you are not familiar with. It made me uncomfortable, a little anxious. I started driving around, listening for other thoughts that were familiar, and even the minds of strangers, in the hope they had spotted you."

"Wait, how could you know I headed that way?"

She pauses again, her nostrils flaring, but then looks down at the table.

"I followed your scent."

"Wow." How many special skills does she have?

She hesitates, maybe expecting another question, but since I just look into her eyes, lost in their depths again, she continues talking, words tripping over each other as she hurries to get them out in the open.

"I saw in a man's mind that he had met you, but then I also saw that he was stalking two girls from the school. I saw some of his plans…" Her lips curl in repulsion. "I drove to them as fast as I could. Luckily, I was in time. But, you see, at first I wasn't just planning to take them away. I wanted to rip those guys' heads off. But your friends would have seen me do it. It's bad enough you know I'm not your average human but this would have been a disaster. My family would have been really upset, forced to disappear. And then, when we met, I thought that you could distract me from my homicidal thoughts and that it would be nice if we could spend some time alone… Talk a little."

It's my turn to become pensive. I stroke my hairless chin. I only have to shave once every two days. And then I smile.

"You were worried about me. You wanted to look after me…."

This is endearing but also a little insulting. I'm not a child and I don't need a babysitter. Happiness overrides my qualms and I smile.

"I should be mad, you know. I can't stop vans with my hands but I'm usually pretty good at staying out of trouble. But, really, I'm glad. Thank you, Lynn. Thank you for caring." I almost start crying, but manage to rein it in. Instead, I instinctively lay my right hand on top of hers, still resting on the table. Her skin feels smooth, supple, slightly colder, as I had already noticed. My skin tingles, my breathing becomes shallower. She closes her eyes for a second, reopens them. She looks surprised, but pleasantly so. For a minute we just remain silent, our eyes meeting again. We talked about being friends, but I think this kind of gaze implies much more than that. Finally she looks at the prints on the wall, some old woodblock art, and, with what I hope is reluctance, she pulls her hands away and folds them on her lap, under the table.

"Things are not so simple for us, Brandon."

"Why not? Because of your mood swings?" My joke elicits a bitter chuckle. I think of our lunch together, when she came to the game, or how she looked for me tonight. My heart sinks when I realize how much I miss touching her hand.

"You still don't know what I am…." She whispers, almost inaudibly.

This is it. Another turning point. I can pretend I don't know anything about her, let her wallow in her loneliness while I wallow in mine. I could still try to stay away from her until I can leave this place. But that would mean turning my back on too damn much….

Who am I kidding? It would mean turning my back on her. I can't do that. Not a chance. But how do I handle this? Let's go for honesty.

"Actually, I think I do."

"You have more theories?" She asks, a strange mixture of dread and hope twisting her features in contradictory directions.

"Let's not talk about it in a restaurant…."

Despite our intense conversation my food has disappeared from my plate.

"Will you tell me in the car?" Her beautiful eyes are pleading again. How could I refuse?

"Yes. Let's get out of here." She nods and calls the waitress. I insist on taking the bill since she didn't eat much. She seems about to complain but lets it slide.