A/N: Hey, so we're getting into lore! Also, no trickery when Beau asks for the Cullen's story. Enjoy!
Beau
Before anyone can say anything more, Tyler claims Lauren and Cissie's attention, asking them to be part of his Instagram story. I look at Bella, watching the way fear and anger war on her face. Jake looks entirely lost.
"How's school been, Jake?" I ask, internally wincing. I can't help but sound like an old man, especially when I'm nervous.
"Fine," he says, relieved to focus his attention elsewhere. "What about you? Forks driving you insane yet?"
"Oh, I'd say that's an understatement," I tell him. Jake laughs heartily and Bella slips quietly away, headed for the cars. Jake looks around, befuddled, but I claim his attention quickly enough. Something had clearly upset Bella, but she hadn't wanted to say. I thought it best to give her space.
"Hey, let's go for a walk," I say. "I want to stretch my legs." Jake nods, following me over to the water's edge. It's colder here, sure, but quieter. I'd take peace over warmth any day.
"Hey, you just had a birthday, right?" I ask. I couldn't remember when, exactly, but it was roughly six months after the twins' birthdays, in June.
"Yeah," Jake says, nodding. "Last month."
"Oh, sorry, man, I didn't know," I apologize. "I would've called or sent something."
"Don't worry about it," Jake laughs. "We didn't do much. Mostly, the twins just FaceTimed with us."
"Dope," I say, hating the way the word feels artificial in my mouth. I've never been good at keep up with the language of my peers. At best, I can mimic them. Even then, I still feel like a fraud, never quite fitting in.
"You should come down more," Jake says. "When Charlie comes over, I mean."
"Sure," I say, touched. Jake was a good kid, and a strange protective instinct rose in my. Brotherly, perhaps.
"It's so fucking boring with just the two of them," Jake complains. "I could use someone my age."
"I'll try," I laugh, mostly at my own joke. Jake laughs with me, and I feel good. Accepted.
"So, who were your friends?" I ask after a beat. I want to ask about the boy who talked about the Cullen's, see what he meant.
"Uh, my friends are Embry and Quill," he explains. "The others were a year young than the twins—well, not Sam, they were in the same grade."
"That boy Lauren was talking to?"
"Yup," Jake says, popping the p. "He, Jared, and Paul, are like, a squad or whatever."
"What was he saying about the doctor's family?" I ask, hoping I'd come across indifferent.
"The Cullen's?" Jake asks. I nod, looking back at the cluster. Sam's watching us, I noticed. "Oh, it's so fucking stupid."
"What?" I press him.
"They're not supposed to come onto the reservation," he says, shaking his head. "It's just a stupid little story."
"I love stories," I say. Jake smirks at me, glad for the audience.
"It's a scary story," he says, hamming it up. I wonder offhandedly if he's in theater; he'd do well.
"Bring it," I say, mimicking his challenging tone. We find a spot to sit, a stray log.
"Do you know any of the tribal stories?" he asks, settling into a storyteller's voice. I feel young listening to him talk, like a little boy listening to a bedtime story. "Our origins?"
"Not really," I admit.
"Well, there are a lot of different ones, about the flood, Noah's Arc type stuff, but there's one more," Jake says. I'm entranced by the smoothness of his voice, his effortless ability to draw me in.
"This legend says we're descended from wolves, that the wolves are our brothers still," he says. "It's against tribal law to kill them."
"Wolves?"
"There's another story that goes with it," he says. "Something more recent."
I nod, waiting for him to continue.
"The talk about the cold ones," Jake says. "Some of the stories are as old as our origin stories, some as recent as a few generations ago. My great-grandfather used to tell us a story about how he met the cold ones, made a treaty with them to keep them off our land."
"Why did they need to be kept off the land?"
"They're the natural enemy of the wolves," Jake tells me. "See, my great-grandfather was a tribal elder, like my dad. He was a wolf."
"A wolf?" I ask, disbelieving. Jake winks at me.
"Like a wolf," he explains. "A man that could turn into a wolf, could tap into the spirits of the wolves before him."
"Like a werewolf?" There was some part of me that couldn't help believing him.
"Yeah, and they had an enemy. The cold ones," he continues. "My great grandfather said the pack that come here when he was a wolf was different, that they didn't hunt like they were supposed to. They promised they weren't dangerous. So, he told them that if they promised to stay off our land, they wouldn't expose them to the pale-faces."
"But they weren't dangerous," I counter. "Why force them to stay away?"
"There's always a threat, even with the civilized ones," Jake explains matter-of-factly. "They might get too hungry to resist."
"So, what does that have to do with the Cullen's?" I ask. I can still feel Sam's eyes on us. "Are they like the cold ones?"
"No," Jake says, leaning in to play up the drama. "They're the same ones!"
I look at him, watching the delight on his face. He's almost too convincing. Some part of my brain reminded me of all the strange things I'd seen the Cullen's do, while the bigger part scoffed.
"There are more of them now, but the rest are the same as the ones my great grandfather knew. He made the deal with Carlisle, the leader."
"So, what are they? The cold ones, I mean," I ask. Theories swirl around my head, waiting to be eliminated.
"Blood drinkers," Jake says darkly. "Vampires."
Then, he pulls away, bursting out into laughter. The heavy tension of the moment is broken and I look out to the surf while Jake collects himself.
"It's insane right?" he asks. I nod, smiling and hoping it came out amused. "Don't tell anyone I told you, okay?"
"Promise," I say, feeling a little hollow. Jake's stomach grumbles then, and he hops up, leading the way back to our group to graze on the remains of the picnic. Jess waves me down excitedly, so I head over, waving to Jake. She grabs my arm and drags me bodily to the cars.
"Mike asked me out!" she gushes as soon as we're out of earshot. "To be his girlfriend!"
"That's awesome, Jess," I say warmly, meaning it. Mike could be overbearing at times, but I liked him well enough. Mostly, I liked Jess and I was glad to see her happy.
"Finally, and appropriate response!" Jess says, flipping her hair out of her face. "I told Bella and she was like, unresponsive."
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"I don't know," Jess says, shaking her head. "I guess she's in trouble with her folks or something."
"Bummer," I say. I could see her in Mike's car, huddled in the very backseat, on the phone. Just then, Mike heads our way, arms laden with the cooler.
"We should go," he says. The rest of the group makes it's way over, saying goodbye to our companions. I text Jake, inviting him over to watch the next hockey game with Charlie and I. "It's about to rain."
After I get home, I spend the rest of the day doing homework and chores, anything I can to distract myself from the lingering questions Jake's story had left me with.
Sunday morning, I awake with a start, groaning as weak light filters through my curtains. I dreamt about Edward Cullen last night, about wolves and Mike Newton begging me to understand. I didn't. If I close my eyes, I can still see snapshots of the dream, but even they are beginning to fade.
I lay prone on top of the covers where I fell asleep last night, still in my clothes. I kick off my pants with a grunt, trying to burrow deeper into the cover. The sheets are cold, and I'm too impatient to wait for them to warm up.
Disgruntled, I pull myself out of bed and head for the bathroom, brushing my teeth and hopping into the shower. I scrub down every inch of my body, even wash my hair twice. Eventually, though, I run out of things to do in the bathroom, so I hurry back to my room, shivering in the cool hallway. A quick peek out my windows confirms what I know; Charlie's gone fishing.
I dress in my comfiest sweats and head downstairs, making myself a bowl of cereal while I scroll through Instagram. Jess has already posted pictures from our trip, cute selfies of her and the girls, even one I'm tagged in. It's a decent picture, with me staring out to sea while talking to Jake.
The picture brings his story to the forefront of my mind, and I want to scoff. Vampires. What a thought. Bella had mentioned a skin-condition, but she hadn't mentioned which one. Apparently, it affects all the doctor's family.
After I'm done eating, I wash my dishes and head upstairs, goal in mind. Booting up the computer is surprisingly quick. I'd expected to have to wait. I pull up google and start researching, first searching for what symptoms I could tell they had.
That's how I spend my day, sinking into Wikipedia-hole after Wikipedia-hole, trying to figure out for sure what the condition was. Unfortunately, I had no contenders.
I take a break for lunch, fixing myself a grilled cheese to take back upstairs. I try not to eat in bed—the crumbs—but, I curl up in my comforter anyways, back on Instagram. Absently, I search for Edward's account, but try as I might, I can't find one for him. I even comb through Bella's entirely following list. I check Twitter, Facebook, Kik, and even LinkedIn, but it's like he's a ghost. Even googling his name doesn't get me anywhere. It's the same with his whole family, save for Dr. Cullen, who has a single result on the hospital's staff page.
I get more and more relentless, until I suddenly decide, fuck it, what's the harm.
I type the word "vampire" into google.
I hit the first Wikipedia result, combing through the page carefully. There are so many different legends, all sorts of folklore from almost every culture. I spend hours, reading every offshoot page, every listicle, every myth to try and piece together some commonality with what I've seen and heard.
Strength. Check. Edward lifted the car off of me, I'm sure he did.
Speed. Check. Edward had been nowhere near when the car had come for me, and then somehow appeared by my side a second later. Although, I had no way to prove that wasn't teleportation, a power some articles insisted vampires had.
I think about the Quileute legend, about cold ones. Check for that as well. Edwards hand were ice, I remember from biology.
I have a few questions. The Cullen's could come out in the day time and not be burnt to a crisp. Popular lore insisted sunlight was lethal. Even Vampire Diaries said so. I also didn't know about the heightened senses, either.
The biggest mystery remained their diet. Jake had told me the Cullen's of the past supposedly weren't harmful to humans, that they didn't drink from them. That they sated themselves other ways.
Then, there was the Bella of it all. I had held her in my arms, felt her pulse and warmth. She was undoubtedly alive. Where did she fit it? What sort of vampire parents adopted a human child? It didn't make sense.
The Cullen's were clearly something. I couldn't shake that thought no matter how hard I tried. They were good, not harmful, and Edward had saved me. I deliberated, torn on what to do next. On one hand, I could ignore Edward, but that meant ignoring Bella too, and she was my closest friend here.
Besides, I don't think I'd ever be able to ignore Edward. For a moment, my heart clenched, and the sudden pain of not being able to see him, talk to him, drove me to despair. I shake my head, trying to clear the thought. My cheeks go red.
The other option was to simply do nothing. To let Edward drive me up to Seattle and to pretend that was a date. If he'd wanted to hurt me, I reasoned, he'd have done it by now.
With that decision made I settled in write my English paper, the words flowing freely through my relaxed mind. I had a lot of opinions on Macbeth, and the paper ended up a little rant-y towards the end. Ah well. I checked it over and submitted it to the drop box on our class website.
I even had time to talk to Renee, a real conversation, not over text. I'm a horrible texter sometimes, and my mother never fails to let me know. The group chat is going off, something about plans to go dress shopping in Port Angeles. Lauren and Jess are squabbling over dates and drivers. I sigh, muting the conversation. It's one of the very few things I like about iPhones.
Monday, I wake to bright light filling up my room. It's even a little warm. I get ready quickly, tripping over myself to get into my jeans. The sun's brightness is catching and my mood soars.
"Nice day," Charlie says over breakfast. Even he's smiling.
"Sure is, chief," I tell him, pretending to tip an invisible hat to him. Charlie laughs, ruffling my hair, and heads out on his way.
Surprisingly, I'm early, so I sit on the damp benches, letting the sun soak into my skin.
"Yo!" Mike's voice rings out, breaking the spell, but I'm too happy to be annoyed. I let him whack my hand around in a complicated handshake, one that only I, out of all my peers, can't seem to master. He pulls a football out of his bag, gesturing to the quad where other guys are congregated.
"You know I'm bad at sports, right?" I ask, bemused.
"I figured I'd ask just in case," he says, unfazed. "Listen, so you and Jess are friends, right?"
There it is, the reason to talk to me. I sigh but smile and nod for him to continue. I figured this would eventually happen, that the guys I hung out with would use me as an in-between to get info on the girls we hung out with.
"I'm trying to figure out what to do for a date, you know?" he says. "I said pizza and chill at my place, but she didn't seem into that."
"I think she wants something a little more memorable for a first date, dude," I told him. Again, the word dude felt funny in my mouth, but I pressed on. "Something more romantic."
"Dude," Mike says, rolling his eyes. "We live in Forks. There's nothing romantic here."
"Mike, just take her out star gazing or something," I tell him, my patience starting to fray. "I think she'd like anything where your focus is on her."
"Really?" He looks quite pleased with himself, preening like a peacock. For a second, my heart ached. It wouldn't be so easy for me, even if I factored out the Edward thing. I was scared I'd miss this, dating as a teenager, simply because I was in such a small town.
"Dude, I'll fucking kill you if you repeat this," I tell him, drawing myself up to my full height. Mike looks a little cowed, I notice with glee. "Jess is totally into you. She likes you a lot. So, just relax, be yourself, and pay attention to her."
"Dude," he says gratefully. "If you weren't gay, you'd be up to your ears in pussy, you're so good at this." I recoil a little at the crudeness of the compliment, but I plaster on a smile and nod. Well, that answered one question at least.
The rest of the day passes in non-event. The Cullen's, save for Bella, aren't here. The seniors are all out on college visits and apparently, Alice and Edward are sick. I can almost visibly see Bella's patience thin each time someone asks her about it.
I can't help but miss Edward. It's like an ache, ever-present and throbbing. It's so strange to feel so much for someone I've barely talked to, but there's no denying the connection between us. When he looks at me, really looks at me, it's as if there's nothing else in the world, and only by holding on to each other can we keep from drifting off into oblivion.
About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him—and I didn't know how potent that part might be—that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.
Bella gets my attention at the end of the day, waiting by my car. Instantly, I smile.
"Hey," I say warmly. Her answering smile is sunny in the extreme.
"Hey!" she says. "What are you doing tomorrow?"
"Nothing," I say truthfully. I've already turned in the English paper and I'm ahead in all my other classes.
"Want to come to Port Angeles with us?" she asks.
"Why, you guys need a queen's opinion on dresses?" I tease, nudging her shoulder. Bella laughs, shaking her head. Her dark curls bounce around her face, framing it delicately.
"Seriously, it'll be fun!" she says, hooking her elbow in mine. "We'll get food, I'll steal my brother's car, and you can snoop through all his stuff!" Instantly I go beet root. My feelings for Edward are clearly out of hand if Bella can dangle it in front of me, like bait.
"I—I wouldn't," I stammer.
"I didn't mean that, sorry," she says softly, taking a hesitant step back. "Sorry, just a shitty joke."
"I'll, uh, talk to Charlie, but I'm not making any promises," I tell her. She brightens instantly.
"Perfect!" she chirps. "Besides, Lauren and Jess are fighting about something, so I need both you and Angela there so they can't make us pick sides."
"Yeah, alright," I laugh. Bella was too sincere not to forgive. "I'll text you."
Predictably, Charlie's not home when I get back, so I grab a blanket and hunt through my shelves for something to read. Maybe it was my twisted sense of humor, or some cosmic joke, but I grabbed the latest Vampire Chronicles book. The series was my guilty pleasure, ever since I'd seen the movie with my mom when I was ten. I should have realized I was gay then, considering my "fascination" with Lestat.
In case, I grab a few others, a Jane Austen number, and my favorite Oscar Wilde book. Armed and ready, I take my things to the yard, laying out in the warming grass. The late March air promises a mild spring, and for that, I'm grateful. It never really warms up in Forks during the summer, not like Arizona, but I much prefer it to the wet winter.
I dig into Blood Communion first, but it only made me think of Edward. My mind wanders and suddenly, I'm thinking of Edward in period clothes and long hair, and my blood starting to travel south. I shut the book hastily, reaching for another.
Sense and Sensibility goes much the same way, because the hero's name is Edward. That too goes in the discard pile and I take a moment, letting the cool, dewy grass ease my fierce blush. It feels so good, the sun on my back, the clean, earthy smell in my nose.
Suddenly, I jolt up, blinking blearily around. The sun's shifted and shadows line the yard. There's a prickle of unease that runs through me, like I'm not alone. I realize then that Charlie's cruiser woke me from my impromptu nap.
"Dad," I say, rushing into the kitchen. I dump my things into the near chair, scrubbing back of my neck. "Sorry, dinner's not done, I ended up falling asleep—"
"Don't worry about it," he says. "We'll order a pizza. You pick." With that, he retreats to the living room to put away his gun and holster. There's a single pizza place in town, and thankfully, they do online delivery. I put in more a large pepperoni and head into the living room, plopping down on the opposite end of the couch.
Charlie grins at me, and while we wait, he puts on an old Becker rerun. We used to love to watch it when I was little, because the main character was terrible and we loved making fun of him. It feels good to just spend time with Charlie, eating greasy, definitely-not-good-for-you pizza and watching old nineties sitcoms.
"Dad," I say during a commercial break. "Some of us are going up to Port Angeles tomorrow. For shopping. I was wondering if you were cool with me going."
"Who's going?" he asks, helping himself to another slice.
"Jess, Lauren, Angela, and Bella," I recite. Charlie appraises me, and for a moment, I worry he'll say I can't go.
"Good luck," he says, clapping my shoulder heartily. "You need any money?"
"I'm alright," I say, shaking my head with a smile. With that, we settle back in, catching the rest of the marathon.
A/N: So, that "about three things" quote really throws me, and I couldn't decide where to put it. Let me know what you thought!