When I wake up the next morning, the day is overcast, clouds covering all traces of the sunlight from yesterday. I check my phone, no messages. I feel terrible, emotionally and physically.
Emotionally, I feel like someone drained me. I wince at the thought, as it conjures up images, no, memories of Emmett murdering past versions of me. Physically, I'm exhausted. I spent the night tossing and turning, terrified by the threat of possible memories resurfacing. I brush my teeth, fix my hair and go down to the kitchen. My dad is drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. The top story's headline is about some animal attacks that got close to Forks. After I grab my poptart, I attempt to retreat back into my room, but my dad clears his throat. I wince and turn around.
"Pop a squat, Quel. Let's talk." My dad's voice is gruff but gentle. I obey, snagging the seat across from him.
"What's up?" I ask, my voice hoarse.
"How are things?" He's deliberately casual with his words, but his eyes bore into me in what I like to call "the private investigator stare."
"Fine. How's it going at the office?"
"Good. Your mom told me about some guy, Emery or whatever."
I stifle a laugh. "Emmett? What about him?"
"Just that you two were getting very close. And that you were being cagey about him." My dad shrugs.
"We're—" I pause. What are we, exactly? We sure as hell aren't dating. We were friends, until I found out he's quite literally murdered me before. Carlisle says we're soulmates, but me? I say, "friends. It's a little complicated."
There's no need for me to start airing my own dirty laundry. I don't want my dad to worry that I've completely lost it and try to move us all again. The idea of moving sends a painful pang through every nerve in my body. I've created a life here that makes me happy. Bella, Angela, and Jess's smiling faces flicker in my head, followed by the uninvited image of Emmett, eyes crinkled with laughter. As pissed as I am at him, I feel as though leaving would hurt even more.
"Well, there's nothing of note in his background." My dad throws out flippantly, oblivious to my emotions churning inside my thoughts.
"You looked into his background? Isn't that illegal?" I look at my dad slack-jawed. Of course, I never expected him to find anything, the Cullens seem pretty adept at covering their tracks, let alone for him to find that I was killed by one of them, multiple times at that. But for him to do a background check in the first place? Unbelievable.
"Raquel," He says patiently. "I am a private investigator. And besides, after last time, can you blame me for being a smidge more protective?"
He's right. I can't blame him for wanting what's best for me.
"Regardless, I don't like the idea of you scrutinizing every person who comes into my life. Please don't do it again unless someone does something sketchy." I take my leave with that, my bad mood worsened by the exchange.
As I angrily munch on my PopTart, I work on finishing the rest of the Spanish project. Emmett sent me his portion at three in the morning, what he was doing awake at that hour I have no earthly idea. After completing it, I sit at my desk, staring off into space, deep in thought yet again. Was it really only yesterday that I felt like what Emmett and I had was bordering on becoming more romantic, the culmination of our relationship building every time we were together?
It's in this daze that I remember something Emmett did that was nagging me. I head back into the room that serves as my mom's office. Her sleek oak desk faces the door, and she looks up when I come in.
"Hey Mom?" I ask. "Did you and Dad get me a snow globe? Or any other gifts, for that matter?"
"No, honey, why?" She tilts her head, the pen she had stuck into her bun to keep her hair off of her face falling to the floor and rolling under her desk.
"I just found a couple of gifts around the house. I figured you and Dad got them for me and Will." I answer as she bends over to pick up the pen, so she can't see the telltale sign that I'm lying in my face.
I turn and walk out of her office before running the second I'm out of her sight into my room. I pull the snow globe off the shelf and turn it over. I put it back and force myself to take deep breaths, pushing my hair up out of my face, leaving my hands on my forehead. There has to be more logical explanations, right? I frantically grab a pen and after multiple attempts, manage to click it open. I grab a scrap sheet of paper and begin writing down the weird things that have been happening.
The necklace.
The snow globe.
The note in my car.
The bear.
I take a deep breath. None of these are anything like how it used to be. I force myself to get up and lay on my bed, ready to think back to those times to see if any morsel of information could help me now. The idea terrifies me, and I find myself wishing Emmett was with me. I don't realize I've snatched my phone off of my dresser until I've unlocked it. I go to text Emmett when an unknown number pops up on my screen.
I had fun last time! Let's do it again sometime? -NP
I drop the phone like it's cursed. I try to laugh at my jitters, this has to be from a date gone wrong, right? A girl probably gave a guy a fake number, and I'm the unlucky soul who had a heart attack because of it. Determined to try to find some solace in my memories, traumatic as they are, I lay back and close my eyes, the sound of rain as soothing a backdrop as any for me to think back to my darkest days.
It started last summer. I had just gotten my braces off, and my best friend at the time, Lindsay, and I went to a summer fair so I could (officially) enjoy the foods I wasn't supposed to eat during that time.
"Seriously, Quel, any guy would be lucky to have you. You just need to get your confidence up!" Lindsay links our elbows together, her straight red hair tickling my arm as it swishes when she walks.
"I'm not interested in anyone at our school, Linds," I say, trying to reign her in. "Besides, if any guy was worth dating, he would've dated me even when I had braces."
Lindsay raises her eyebrows and nods off to a guy around our age manning the ring toss booth. "How about him?"
"What about him?" I ask, studying him covertly. His eyes are a pale blue, his dark brown hair meticulously arranged to give the illusion of apathy. His eyes meet mine, but his stare is so deep I look away. I look at Lindsay, who's looking in the opposite direction, but I can't tell what's caught her eye.
That memory bleeds into the next. This one is a few weeks later, the first Friday of the school year.
"Raquel!" Lindsay squeals, running over to my locker. I greet her without enthusiasm, puzzled by the note in my locker. It seems innocuous enough, a small piece of paper with "I like you" scrawled across it.
"It's the third one this week." I show Lindsay, who's been teasing me mercilessly. She snatches the note and puts her hand on my shoulder.
"It's okay, Raquel. Someone has a crush on you." She acts like it's totally fine.
"This doesn't show any sign of obsession at all to you?"
"Nope. It's fine," she squeezes my shoulder to emphasize her point. "Don't you want to know my news? I have a boyfriend now!"
I'm shocked. Not that Lindsay has a boyfriend, but that she hadn't even mentioned talking with a guy or even having a crush. "Who is it?"
"Bradley. He's a senior." She wiggles her brows at me, green eyes sparkling with mischief.
"That's great, Linds. I gotta go." I close my locker, feeling alone. Lindsay hasn't been talking to me as much. That in and of itself isn't a problem, but every time I try to mention any of the weird things happening, she brushes me off and says I'm overreacting.
The weeks after are a blur. The notes escalate, becoming more and more frequent. Every other day, daily, now they come after every period. They range from the mundane, "Have a nice day" to the eerie "Can't wait to see you again." Beyond that, letters in burgundy envelopes keep showing up to my house, each message more macabre and destitute than the last. My phone blows up with texts from various unknown numbers. I tried to block them, but it feels like I'm fighting a hydra—every time one is blocked, two more are at the ready to torment me more. I get phone calls in the middle of the night, and in my half-awakened stupor I answer it, only to realize my mistake when I hear the heavy breathing on the other end.
Lately, the notes have been getting more and more threatening towards me, my friends, my family. The most recent target for this person is Will. This person either knows me or has gone through the trouble to know me, and at this point, I don't know which is worse.
"I just feel like nothing is safe anymore." I sigh, pushing my food away and burying my face into my arms that are crossed on the table.
"Raquel, you need to tell someone," Noah, my closest friend apart from Lindsay says, rubbing my back in comforting circles. "You've lost weight, you're barely eating. Girl, this isn't healthy."
"I know, but what if I'm overreacting? Lindsay seems to think I am." My voice, muffled by my hoodie, is muffled.
"What if you're not? And besides, I have a lot I could say about Lindsay. Especially now." I can hear his annoyance seeping into his tone. I look up at him, studying his green eyes.
"You really don't think I'm losing it?"
"I've known you for, what, five years now? I think I'd be able to tell." He grins at me, but it fades when he looks behind me. "Heads up, the insufferable love birds are headed straight for us."
"Is it too late for an escape?" I ask, but the scraping of metallic chairs cuts me off.
"Hey guys!" Lindsay's voice is super high pitched, and she's holding hands with her boyfriend.
"Hey, Linds, we were actually just leaving." Noah apologizes, gently holding onto my elbow to steer me away.
"No! Bradley wants to meet you guys! Especially you, Quel." I sigh and take a seat.
"Hi. I'm Raquel. There. We've met." I'm usually not so apathetic, but if Lindsay can dismiss my feelings then I don't feel obligated to do what she wants.
"Nice to meet you, Raquel." His voice is quiet, indistinct. "I think we'll be seeing a lot more of each other, since Linds and I are going to be together all the time."
"I sincerely hope not." I whisper under my breath. Noah stifles a laugh and leads me out of the cafeteria.
I sit up. Somehow, I've managed to waste the whole day reliving that nightmare. I don't know what time it is or what's going on. I head downstairs to find my mom on the phone.
"Oh, here she is now!" She says into the receiver before handing it to me. "It's your grandmother."
"Hi, Grammy." I say.
"Hey, doll baby! How have you been?"
"I'm a lot better. I feel safer here." I reply.
"I'm glad, sweetheart. A shame about your boyfriend though."
"Huh?" How could she know about Emmett? He wasn't even officially my boyfriend, especially not at the moment. Has my mom been gossiping again?
"That you had to leave him? He came by looking for you. You didn't tell him anything? He was crushed when I told him you had moved." My blood runs cold.
"Gram, did you tell him where we went?" My voice shakes.
"Yes, he said he wanted to write you a letter, so I gave him your address. Raquel, Raquel, sweetie, are you okay?" I clutch the phone in a death grip, heart beating out of control.
"Yeah, Gram. I'm good. I need to go work on a-uh school project."
"Okay, doll. Hand the phone back to your momma, would you? I love you." After reaffirming I love her, too, I give my mom the phone and run up to my room.
I'm panicking. He's here. He knows where I am at the very least. I rip the necklace from my neck and grab the snow globe off of my counter and chuck them into the box with the bear. I check my phone. No messages from Emmett. I know I should tell my parents, but what if my grandma just confused another guy as my boyfriend? Could it be Noah? Probably, he knew where my grandmother lived. He probably just didn't correct her, figuring that she'd be more likely to give him my address if he claimed to be my boyfriend. She probably recognized him from pictures of us together. The more I talk myself into it, the more I can feel myself believing.
About an hour later, after I've calmed down, my mom calls me downstairs. She sounds worried, and I see why when I get to the bottom of the stairs. Charlie's in the living room, his eyes ringed in the red that comes post crying.
"Hey, Charlie. Is everything okay?" I ask, leaning against an armchair, too anxious to sit.
"Have you seen Bella?" Charlie's voice is gravelly from crying. He clears his throat.
"Not since Friday. Why? Is she in trouble?" I frantically look from my mom back to Charlie.
"She came storming in tonight after spending the day with Edward Cullen and his family. She was yelling about how much she hated him, and then she packed up her things and left. Claimed she was going back to Arizona. I was hoping she changed her mind and maybe came here. Had she mentioned anything to you? Has she contacted you at all?"
"Oh my God, Charlie, I'm so sorry. She hasn't texted me or called me lately. She seemed really happy, especially with Edward." I add that to another one of my reasons to fight Edward at some point.
"I mentioned you were seeing his brother, Emmett." My mom supplies.
"He hasn't mentioned anything either. We actually got in a small fight yesterday, too, so I haven't spoken to him at all today."
"I'll keep looking. Maybe she'll change her mind." Realizing this may be my only chance, I offer to walk Charlie to the door. Once on the porch, I quietly close the door behind me.
"Hey, Charlie? I know you have a lot on your mind right now, but I had a question about the law in Forks." I wrap my arms around myself, keeping out the chill from the air and from my memories.
"Sure, kid. What's up?"
"What's the law on stalking? It's for… a class project." I lie on the spot. I know I shouldn't, but the last thing I need is for Charlie to alert my parents before I'm sure of what I can or should do.
"Well, it depends. It can range from a misdemeanor to a felony, depending on what the stalker does. You can get a protection order from a judge if you have proof of stalking, and the stalker can be arrested if they disobey that order. Or if they cause bodily harm, of course." I nod, thanking Charlie and promising to let him know if I hear from Bella before going back inside.
I brush past my mom and head up to my room, grabbing my phone and calling Emmett. No answer. I try again. No answer. I try one last time before giving up and deciding to leave a message.
"Hey, Emmett. It's me. This isn't me forgiving you by any means, but I heard Bella left because of Edward? That doesn't sound right to me. Is she okay? I know you're probably busy, or giving me my space, or helping Bella, but…" I pause, taking a breath in before whispering. "I think the stalker might have found me. I don't have any concrete proof, but I need to get some. I-I guess I just wanted someone to know."
I hang up, dropping my phone and rubbing my temples, a headache blossoming. I try calling Bella, to no avail. I make plans to go by the Cullens' after school tomorrow-my dad's picking up Will. I get ready for bed, but sleep doesn't come due to my paranoia. Every branch scratching the house is my stalker trying to scare me, the wind a haunting scream. When I finally fall asleep, it's nothing but a nightmare where I'm chased by a faceless, nameless person, and I'm unable to escape.
The next day, the Cullens' absence is palpable, particularly combined with Bella's. I get her classwork for her when I can, Angela agreed to get the other classes. I look around the cafeteria at lunch, but not a single one is present. My day passes in a blur, the stress and worry making everything hazy and hard to focus on.
I drive to the Cullens' home, cursing the long driveway, as it's taking me even longer to reach the antique farmhouse. I park in the grass and climb out, looking around for any sign that they're home. I slowly climb up the steps when Rosalie appears from around the side of the house, walking at a human pace. Shock covers her features when she sees me before she recovers and blinks over to my side.
"You can't be here." Her voice is low and deadly, her eyes scanning the woods behind me.
"Why not? I'm just here—" I can't help the petulant indignation that seeps its way into my voice. I know Rosalie doesn't like me very much, but I have a right to come find Emmett.
"I'm serious, Raquel. Go. Home." Her golden eyes lock onto mine, the intensity setting off alarm bells in my head.
"No." Her eyebrows raise. "I'm not leaving until you tell me what's going on. I get that we aren't friends or anything, but—"
"This isn't about my personal feelings towards you. For your safety—which matters to Emmett, you need to be away from the danger. And that's at your house. Not here. Definitely not here."
"Fine. Esme will tell me." I shake loose from her grip and go to knock on the door. Rosalie's hand wraps around my wrist before my knuckles can touch the old wood.
"Esme isn't here," She says through her teeth. She contemplates for a moment before sighing. "I'll tell you everything. Later. At your house. Do you have a tree or anything outside your window?"
"Um, there's one like thirty feet from it." She nods.
"I'll be there when I can. For my sake, and Emmett's, please just go straight home."
"Do you promise?" She lets go of my wrist.
"Yes. Look, you matter to Emmett, whether you decide what he did is enough to warrant you never speaking to him again. He doesn't want you to get hurt. And I don't want to be blamed if you decide to play human martyr in this game. I already don't want to have to protect Bella. You, I marginally respect more. I'll be there sometime tonight. Leave the window unlocked. Unless you want me breaking it." Rosalie turns me around and gives me a firm push towards my car. I nearly fall off the porch steps when she grabs my shirt to stop me.
"Sorry, I forget humans are so fragile."
"It's okay. I forget vampires are so strong." Rosalie tries to keep her indifferent expression on her face, but her lips twitch up a little. I drive home, rushing upstairs to unlock my window and wait for nightfall.