Chapter 4
chapter four is here people *rubs hands gleefully*
fyi i know nothing at all about how to ride a motorcycle soo ignore the parts where stuff is probably mixed up hehe
hope you enjoyy :)
"Where's the clutch?" Jacob quizzed.
Bella stared ahead at the winding road in front of her, pebbles lining the sandy path. The trees on each side stood tall like a cavalry of soldiers, their bark rough armor and branches emerald artillery. On the seat of the gigantic bike, the ground seemed a lot farther away than she felt comfortable with.
"I don't know if I can do this," she faltered, her voice just a little bit wobbly.
"Of course you can. Now, show me the clutch," he instructed.
She motioned to the lever with her head, not daring to let go of her grip, and he nodded in approval.
"Now the brake. Not the back one, remember?"
She nodded in the direction of her right hand.
"Good. Squeeze it really hard when you want to stop."
"Okay." Her fingers were beginning to cramp as they stretched taunt across the wide base of the handlebars, but she tried to ignore the twinges and concentrate on his words.
"You can do it," Jacob encouraged.
"I can do it," she repeated after him, trying to convince herself though her hands still trembled.
"I'm gonna kick-start it, okay? Just warning you."
"I'm ready," she promised.
"Steady now."
The motorcycle revved to life with a lazy throbbing purr, lurching her forward with the intensity of the pull. It turned out Bella wasn't as ready as she thought, and when he slammed the entire weight of his right leg down on the pedal she let out a shrill scream as the bike sprung back, kicking up clouds of dirt, then whizzed down the road. She blanked for a second, any and all of Jake's directions vanishing from her mind. Bella scrambled to regain control of her senses, quickly settling herself and grasping the handlebars tighter, hunching over the front like an animal ready to pounce. Adrenaline coursed through her veins like blazing fuel, heating her soul up with passion, the beat of her heart palpitations practically matching the speed of the bike as she sped along. The wind buzzed by her ears like stinging bullets, the trees around her melting into a collective green and brown blur.
Peering ahead, Bella could just barely see a fork in the road coming directly up. That wasn't good. She had no idea how to properly turn and decided she had to somehow stop before she reached it. Otherwise she knew things would get dreadfully messy.
Bella could hear Jacob's shouts behind her. "Remember the brake! Remember the brake!"
Oh yes. She risked a glance down at the spinning wheels, loosening her grip on the clutch. Bella pressed down on the lever above the throttle so hard she could see the lines of her tendons jutting through the skin of her hand. Then, she relaxed. However powerful it may be, she was in control of this snarling beast of a machine. She licked her dry lips as the bike skidded to a stop, the sound of the engine spitting over the whirring wheels.
Bella hopped off the leather seat, sucking in a lungful of air, traces of the ocean breeze salty on her tongue.
"I did it! Jake, I did it!" she yelled as soon as she caught her breath.
"You did it!" she heard a faint cry from the very far end of the path where she had come from, and saw a distant figure jumping up and down, pumping his arms in the air. "I told you!"
...
On the way home, he informed her of an enormous history project he had to work on.
"When's it due?"
"Monday," he confessed. "We were supposed to start working on it about two weeks ago."
"Jake, what?!"
"I was busy!" he protested, gliding a hand through his long hair.
"With the bikes, right? Man, you should've told me, I wouldn't have come over so you could begin it."
"That's why I didn't," Jacob said smugly.
"I'm going to help you with it, though. It's the least I can do."
They started on the homework roughly around 5:00 pm, lounging in front of the fire with scraps of textbooks and open notebooks dispersed around the coffee table. An hour later, nothing had been accomplished. Bella had skimmed the material and understood most of it, attempting to relate the information to Jake. But like a hyperactive child he refused to listen, getting distracted by the littlest things. Utterly exhausted, she left him to write his starting sentence and excused herself to the bathroom for a break.
Bella returned to find the notebook as blank as when she had left. She exhaled emphatically.
"See Jake, you can use the summery on pages forty-four to fifty to build your analysis. Your teacher's already given you the outline of the essay you're supposed to write, okay? That's what this thing is," she said, gingerly picking up a crumpled up piece of paper he had tossed away moments before. "You already have your thesis, right?" she asked, hoping he would suddenly conjure it up from thin air.
"No," he groaned.
"Oh." There went all the assumed progress.
"I hate school," complained Jacob, grinding his pencil down until the lead tip cracked, sending tiny grey flecks scattering across the desk.
Just then, Billy appeared in the doorway. Bella noticed a telephone in his hand, the cord stretched around the wall all the way from the kitchen.
Impeccable timing, Bella thought dryly.
"Bella, your father just called. He wants to know if you can spend the night here. Would you be alright with that?"
The essay forgotten, Bella looked up, surprised by the out of the blue request. "Oh?"
"He'll be away all night at the station. Lots of complicated paperwork he said," Billy explained. "He didn't want you to be alone in the house."
"Oh," Bella said again. "Then alright. Yeah, sure." You know what, why not?
She tried to ignore the huge grin that had spread across Jacob's face and twiddled her thumbs as she suddenly became particularly engrossed by the economic impact of child labor during the Puritan era in Great Britain.
"I'll tell him that then," Billy announced, rolling away in his wheelchair.
Bella didn't dare look directly at Jacob for fear of what she might see. No, rather for fear of what she might think. She turned to the fire and stared at the dancing flames, mulling over the invitation.
In the house alone with two males? One was older than her father and the other was her best friend… but still. She had never even entertained the idea before, and just the idea alone sounded awkward. Where on earth would she sleep?
Like he had intuitively heard her thoughts, Jacob answered her worried question. "I can fix up the couch for you. Unless you want to sleep in my room."
Bella stared at him, trying to evaluate if that implied anything suspicious. She would be far from thrilled to find out if it did.
Realizing what he had accidentally alluded to, he flushed violently. "…Without me, though, of course. I mean… obviously. I didn't mean… or anything," he fumbled intensely. "Of course. It's just… the mattress is in better shape…cuz the couch is kinda wonky…" Jacob's voice died out, and he stared down glumly.
Bella resisted the urge to laugh at his mistake. "It's okay, Jake. The couch will be fine."
Jacob perked up then looked at her seriously. "When I said wonky, I meant real wonky. Jared once got poked in the…"
Bella covered her ears before she yet again came into possession of knowledge she would not ever willingly choose to obtain. "Thanks for warning me."
"I'll go find you soft stuff so you don't feel anything, don't worry." Jacob told her, scurrying up the stairs.
He came down minutes later, empty handed. "Um…so I couldn't find any clean blankets."
No clean blankets? In the entire house? Men.
"But I do have this," and Jacob reached behind the couch and produced his huge winter coat, handing it to Bella with a flourish. "It'll keep you warm enough."
Bella couldn't stop herself from sniffing it apprehensively as she took it from him. Thankfully, it smelled nothing like sweat, and the musky scent of pinecones infused with cinnamon tickled her nostrils.
"Thanks," she said, and she truly meant it.
...
Snuggled into Jacob's jacket on the couch later that night, Bella found herself alone with her thoughts.
Even though Bella felt as though she was in a new hell every time Edward crossed her mind, she took the chance to force herself to dig deeper and answer the provoking questions she had tucked away for so long, although they constantly nagged at the back of her brain.
First. Why couldn't she be like the Cullens— flawless, elegant, classy? They never saw her as their equal, that Bella knew for certain. The true Bella would never be good enough for them. And for that, all she felt was shame, whenever the shimmering creatures she was so deeply infatuated by touched her, looked at her, spoke to her.
Second. What was the true idea Edward had of her? Who was his version of Bella he had constructed in his head? A petite, fragile porcelain doll who might crack at any instant, that was the truth.
Third. Perhaps if they had been closer in age, Bella used to wonder. Then it would have been fine, if Edward had not been frozen in time for over a century?
That's where number four came in. Would she even have loved him if he was a normal, teenage boy? Like Jacob?
Conflicted, Bella tiptoed into the kitchen to search for something to drink, the jacket wrapped around her for warmth. Hunting through the fridge, she found a half-empty carton of milk and poured herself a cup. She felt calmer after the cool liquid washed down her throat, but knew it would be a long time before she could remotely gain back any peace.
aahh i cant wait to post the next chapter teehee
btw i don't have a beta reader so lots of love to any reviewers & constructive criticism is always welcome!