Paul
Toasted vanilla. Is that a thing? Rachel's intoxicating scent is a combination of things that I have never experienced. And I'm obsessed. She smells sweet and warm. If that's even possible. The closest thing I can compare it to would be a lightly roasted marshmallow — the perfectly golden ones that take time and patience, not the kind where you just stick your marshmallow directly into the flame until it ignites and gets all burnt — but even that doesn't seem to accurately describe the succulence of her bouquet. I decide to stick with toasted vanilla and move on from the thought as I collect my change from the food truck merchant.
I join Rachel at the wooden picnic table on the beach with two styrofoam boxes of freshly battered fish and crinkle fries in my hands. She's standing with her arms crossed in her purple hoodie, looking up and down the beach, hoping to spot her brother. It's futile. Jacob is in the woods somewhere, most likely. Even if she does find him, she won't know that it's him. He'll be a wolf.
"Wanna sit?" I ask her.
"Oh. Um, the benches are wet," she replies.
"No problem," I set the styrofoam boxes down on the table and take my leather jacket off and set it down for her, "sit."
"Oh, but I-"
"I don't care if my butt gets wet," I reply and sit down on the damp bench before she can argue.
Rachel sits down on my coat, "I was about to say I can go get my raincoat from the car and we can both sit down."
"Oh," I chuckle softly, "that would have probably been better."
She laughs.
Yes! I am filled with warmth. I give myself another little checkmark as though I am attempting to redeem my score from last night when I made a fool of myself.
"Can I have your number?" I ask, perhaps a little too quickly. It comes out jumbled 'canihaveyournumber?'.
"Um," she hesitates.
"So if Jacob turns up I can call you," I clarify, placing my Motorola Razr flip phone on the table between us.
Rachel picks up the phone and starts programming her number inside, "I didn't have a cellphone when I was 16. What does a 16-year-old need a cellphone for?"
"I need it for work," I defend myself, "I have to be able to call 911 if someone is unresponsive or gets hurt."
"Won't it get wet?" she replies cleverly as if she doesn't believe me and slides my phone back.
"I have a waterproof pocket in my trunks," I reply and hit dial.
"Really?" Rachel leans to the side so she can pull her phone out, a blue Nokia, "what? You think I'd give you a fake number?"
"There. Now you have my number," I slide her lunch towards her and start in on mine. I'm starving. I shove the entire battered fish into my mouth in one bite and start on my fries before I've even swallowed it.
"What's so great about Bella Swan, anyways?" Rachel asks, putting away her phone and starts picking at her fries. She's either being very polite or is completely unbothered by my obnoxious table manners.
I shrug, "nothing really," I reply with my mouth full, eager to answer her. Bella Swan's got nothing on my girl.
"You're friends with Jake. Help me understand?" she asks, pulling apart a small piece of fried fish and pushing it into her mouth. "Where'd all this obsessiveness over Bella Swan come from?"
"Well…" I swallow the wad of food in my mouth, "I guess it started when she flirted with him on the beach once. He told her about the legends of our tribe… you know... The tales of how we are descendants of wolves."
She glances up at me with serious eyes. "Those aren't tales. That's all real," Rachel says in a grim, stoic tone.
I swallow. Holy shit! She knows?! This whole telling her that she's my imprint is going to be easier than I thought!
Rachel's deadpan face crinkles into laughter, "according to my dad, anyways," she rolls her eyes, "he takes those old legends very seriously," she says, dipping a fry into ketchup and putting it into her mouth.
Ah, man. She had me going. I shove the remainder of my fries into my mouth.
"Thank you, by the way," Rachel smiles, putting another small piece of fried fish in her mouth, "this is really good."
"You're welcome," a warm and fuzzy feeling blankets me. It makes me want to do more nice things for her. I smile back.
She looks down at her food and then to my empty container, "wow, I guess you really were hungry. Don't your parents feed you?" she teases me.
I chuckle, "I have a big appetite. So, what all do you know of the legends?" I ask, trying to circle back around to the tales of our tribe.
"The basics. Cold ones. The treaty… Oh!" she exclaims as though something has just occurred to her. "I totally forgot. Right before I left for school those Cullen kids from Forks moved into that big house. Someone started making up some bullshit that they were the cold ones," she laughs. "So stupid…"
"Yeah… that's what I heard," I clear my throat.
"Holy shit!" Rachel's eyes widen, "isn't he one of them? The guy that Bella Swan is marrying?"
I nod, "what else do you know about the legends?"
"Um… that's about it, isn't it?" she asks.
No. No, there's more. So much more. How do I tell her that the spirit of the wolf that rules me has led my heart to her. That it is in my nature to follow her to the ends of the world. That from now until eternity I am completely devoted to her happiness. That my happiness is completely dependent on her reciprocating those feelings. How I long to feel her gentle touch and kiss her tender lips and lay with her by my side… and make love to her if she'll have me.
She licks her lips, "did you order anything to drink?" she asks.
What? Oh. Crap. I look back to the food truck.
"Sorry," I stand up, "what do you want?" I ask.
"Diet Coke?" she asks.
"You got it," I say with a grin. I'm glad that she didn't tell me to just get her whatever I wanted. She's getting comfortable around me.
I walk back to the food truck. Should I just tell her everything? I mean… if Sam is correct — and he certainly believes he is — her nature will cause her to want me back. Maybe just as much as I want her. Wouldn't that be something? I retrieve two Diet Cokes from the vendor. How do I even start to explain all of this insanity to her? She's going to think I am crazy. I'm so screwed.
I walk back to the picnic bench.
"Sorry. It's not very cold," I say, cracking open the can of Coke for her and put it down on the table. I sit back down and open my Coke as well.
"Thanks," she replies and takes a sip, "I think I'm done with this. Are you still hungry?" she asks me.
I glance down at her container. It looks like she's hardly touched it. Most of the fries are still piled up in the corner with half of the fried fish remaining.
"That's all you're going to eat?" I frown. "Christ, girl, anyone ever tell you that you eat like a bird?"
She shrugs.
"Alright, little bird, gimme that," I slide the container in front of me and get to work on the rest of her food. I shove the battered fish into my mouth and it is gone in one bite.
Little Bird. That's what she is. A bird. Fragile and beautiful. Wait. No. Not fragile. Precious; like something I want to hold carefully and protect. Definitely a bird, though. She flies so high above me. Close to the sun and heavens. I am unworthy.
"I should be getting back to check on Dad. Are you sure you can't think of any other spots where Jake might be?" Bird asks.
I chew slowly, knowing that our time together is coming to an end.
Dammit! Think of something, Lahote.
"Um… actually… yeah, there might be a place," I reply.
"Where?" she asks, looking down at the small pile of fries that remain with a smirk. I'm glad that my appetite amuses her.
"It's hard to explain. Can I drive?" I ask, finishing off the last few crinkle friends and then gather up both empty containers to deposit in the nearby trash can.
The gloom has lifted and there are even a few clear patches in the sky. Sporadic rays of golden sun cast their warmth over the damp greenery around us.
I'm not used to driving such a small vehicle. Maybe I'm too big. I had to push the seat all the way back. But I like it. I like driving with her right next to me. It feels right. I drive the speed limit, looking for the perfect place. I don't want this to end too soon. Or at all. My father is set to be furious with me for my disobedience; I'm not in a hurry to return home. I glance down at her legs for a moment. She doesn't notice, she is too busy staring out the window as though she is deep in thought.
I want to reach over and put my hand on her knee. That would be wonderful. I'd slide my palm up and down her thigh, curl my fingers between her legs and align my fingertips with the inseam of her jeans. I exhale when I feel the beginnings of arousal so I stop thinking about touching her.
Calm down, Lahote. The last thing you need is to get turned on in front of this girl.
"Have you ever heard of imprinting?" I clear my throat, trying to distract myself so my mind doesn't run wild with fantasies.
"What?" she asks, turning her attention to me.
"In the tribe legends, the wolves we descend from, they imprint on their mates," I continue.
"No," she shakes her head, "that was never a part of the stories."
"It's like love at first sight. The wolf's nature seeks out the perfect mate. He loves her more than anything — more than life — and it grounds him. So no matter how strong the wolf pulls at him, he will never abandon his human form. Because he can never leave her. Not ever. She's too precious to him," I attempt to put into words everything I feel for her. It doesn't seem fitting enough. I wish I could express it more poetically than that. She's been silent for too long. I'm nervous. "What do you think of that?" I ask.
"Hm," she looks out the windshield, "it sounds romantic," she finally replies.
"You think so?" I swallow, feeling immediate relief. I can't help but smile.
"Yeah, like destiny is real and love is written in the stars," she says softly. "It's a nice story. But it's not real."
It's not a story! It's real. It's me and you. It's us!
I check the mirrors and then pull over at the side of the road. Rachel looks around. I startle her when I am suddenly at the passenger side, opening the door for her.
"How'd you?-" she glances back at the driver's seat, confused as to how I made it to her door so quickly. "Where are we?"
"I have to show you something. Come on," I say. My face feels like stone. The seriousness of what I am about to share with her is going to change her life forever. I don't take that lightly.
"Is Jake here?" she asks, getting out of the car.
I close the door after she gets out and immediately start into the woods without another word. Rachel follows me. I have to make sure that we are deep enough into the brush so as to not be spotted from the road.
"Paul. Where are we going?" she asks and grunts, almost sliding in a muddy patch of damp leaves, "Paul!"
"Here. This is deep enough," I swallow. "Look, this is all going to sound crazy so you need to listen to me, and then you need to watch. Don't scream. Okay?"
"Um…" Rachel looks back toward the road, "fuck," she whispers to herself as though she has realized that she's done something wrong or stupid.
"Just watch and don't scream," I repeat myself.
"Listen… Uh… I'm sorry if I was…" her voice trembles. "I mean. I won't tell anyone about this… You don't need to do this… please let me go," she pulls the zipper of her hoodie up to her neck.
Holy shit! Does she think I'm going to rape her? Fuck!
"No! God, no! No, no, no!" I take her hands. She flinches so I let go and take three big steps back, "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. I just need to show you something. I'd never hurt you. Not ever. I promise… you can trust me… Do you trust me?"
She nods slowly. I'm not sure if it's because she actually trusts me or she is terrified that I might hurt her.
"The legends of our tribe. The man who can become a wolf… the cold ones… imprinting," I take my brown leather coat off, fold it and then place it on the forest floor, "it's all real."
Rachel nods slowly, "okay… it's all real," she swallows, backing away from me. "I'm sorry I said it wasn't."
"Stop!" I say louder than I mean to when I realize that she is preparing to run.
She flinches and swallows, "sorry," her breath catches in her throat.
Fuck. She's terrified. I better just get this over with. There's no coming back from this. I have to show her. I pull my t-shirt over my head and lay it down over my jacket and then start to unbutton my jeans.
"I'm a wolf."
"Mm-hm," Rachel squeaks, nodding her head. She wraps her arms around herself tightly. She looks behind her, back where we came.
I feel like shit right now.
Don't be scared, little bird.
I kick off my shoes and then push my jeans down, stepping out of them until I am standing in front of my imprint in nothing but light blue boxers and socks that don't match. Had I known I was giving her 'The Wolf Show' I would have tried to find two socks of the same kind.
"I'm going to turn into a wolf now. Don't scream, okay…"
I stand in front of her and... absolutely fucking nothing happens. Really? Great…
Rachel looks around, "um…"
"No. Wait. Give me a minute," I panic. This cannot be happening now! My wolf really has a fucked up sense of humor. Here I am, down to my underwear in front of the girl of my dreams and I look like a crazy person.
Rachel swallows, "can I go now?" she whispers.
"Slap me!" I demand.
"What?" Rachel's eyes open wide.
"Slap me!" I say again. This is brilliant, it's worked before.
"This is why you brought me out here? To slap you in your underwear?" her demeanor quickly turns from one of fright to anger. "Unbelievable. You know, I thought there were some real creeps in Seattle but you are a whole other level of weirdo," Rachel quickly turns and starts walking away.
"No! Please! Don't go! Please slap me!" I follow her, reaching out for her arm. I hook my hand under her elbow.
"I'm not going to slap you!" Rachel says, yanking her arm away from me but then stops and stands still.
A brief silence fills the void.
She turns to look at me. "No! You know what? I will slap you!" she shouts, turning around to face me, "this is for wasting my goddamn time!"
Rachel hauls her arm back and then throws it forward, absolutely smacking the shit out of my face.
Works like a charm.
My hands quake.
Yes!
Wait. No. She's too close.
Oh, no!
I push Rachel away. She rolls several yards in the damp leaves. When she comes to a halt she looks up at me in shock as the spirit of the wolf consumes me.
Like so many times before, my body shifts from man to wolf in a violent and chaotic display. Pieces of fabric from my socks and boxers flutter off of me and land on the forest floor. Then… I stand before her as a wolf just as Sam had stood before Emily and Jared had stood before Kim.
Rachel slowly gets to her feet, "what the fuck?" she gasps. "It's real," she whispers, her face lights up with wonder and awe like a child on Christmas morning, discovering that magic is real. I am relieved. She takes a slow step towards me. I remain still. I don't want to frighten her. Not like this… I lean my head down, attempting to look smaller, hoping that this will bring her ease.
She takes a few more cautious steps until she is finally before me and then lifts her hand. She touches my ear. My wolf loves it. Her touch brings lightness to my heart and I instinctually fully lean into it, forcing my head forward against her abdomen. She giggles, and strokes my head, ears, snout... I nuzzle against her, taking in all of the closeness I can get in this perfect moment… I am filled with warmth and relief. Not just because I managed to not scare her off but because I have not experienced an affectionate touch in… well… ever.
It is everything. She is everything. I don't want this to end.