By the time Friday rolled around, I was desperate for the weekend. My first week at Forks High School had gone nearly precisely how I wished it hadn't. I was so prepared to escape for two days that I didn't even particularly mind Mike chattering my ear off through the three class periods we had together before lunch. When the bell rang, I split off from Mike and headed toward my locker to grab my lunch - literally just Cheetos and three carrots - from my locker. I slammed it shut and jumped when I saw tiny Alice Cullen standing there, framed by her tall adoptive brother, Joshua.
"Lydia!"
"Hi," I said, more stiffly than was polite but I simply could not bring myself to warm to people who reminded me so intensely of a walking nightmare.
She handed me an ornate jar filled with a cream of some sort and a notebook. I raised an eyebrow at her. "Thank you?"
"The cream is a special concoction of mine. It'll help prevent scarring on your hands as they heal from the," she paused ever so slightly, "burns. And the notebook is a copy of all your class notes this week that you couldn't take. Emmett took them for Literature and Spanish but his handwriting is atrocious so I copied them for you."
"How did you get them from my other classes?" I asked curiously, opening the notebook and immediately began admiring Alice's pretty handwriting.
"We all have to take the same classes, so I just copied mine."
"Ah," was all I managed as I ran my now-hideously scabbed fingers over the ornate designs she had doodled into the margins. I looked more closely at the notes and frowned. They were exactly how I did my notes, right down to the types of bullet points I used and the way I broke down each topic.
"Edward is very observant," Alice said, sensing my puzzlement. "He told me how you usually write them in Spanish."
"Right," I murmured, feeling ever more deeply disturbed by how closely they were watching me. This wasn't normal, they weren't normal. I flinched as flashes of memory began to seep from the Pandora's Box in my mind I had banished it to, flowing through my consciousness like a poison gas. Flashes of autumn color, a pale sparkling man with dark hair stepping out from the trees, cupping my face in his pale, cold hand, fascination shining in his terrifying red eyes...
Suddenly, I couldn't breathe.
"I have to go," I whispered. "Thank you for the, uh, the stuff. Nice seeing you, J-"
"Jasper," Alice cut in, smiling beneath eyes that seemed troubled, seeming to predict I had the wrong name pinned to the tall boy beside her.
Weird, they were all weird. I turned away to head toward the cafeteria and spotted Jessica, watching the entire one-sided gift exchange with a devious glint in her eyes. I groaned internally. Perfect. Just absolutely perfect.
I could've cried in relief when I finally made it home. My aunt and uncle weren't home so I headed straight to my neat, yellow room. I threw my backpack into my chair, causing it to tip over as I collapsed onto my bed. The comforter was cold, soothing against my flushed skin. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of clean smelling detergent. The thought of the literal paper mountain of homework I'd been assigned for the weekend made me roll onto my back with a groan. I glared at the ceiling, at minute shadows cast by the bumps from the drywall. After a minute, I gave into angry resignation and hauled myself off my bed to make a to-do list for my weekend.
As I selected a glittery pen from a drawer, my phone began buzzing against the lamp on my bedside table. I leaned as far out of my desk chair as I could, trying to reach it before resigning myself to the fact I would need to actually stand up to answer it. I flipped it open without looking at the screen.
"Yello," I said nonchalantly, beginning my to-do list with "Don't kill anyone".
"Lydia! It's Kim! Uncle Marcus gave me your number. Please tell me you're coming down with the rest of the Wonderbread crew from Forks."
"I mean, I'm coming but not with them. I said I had my own way to get there but I didn't so now I'm probably just gonna take Aunt Julie's bike or -"
"No."
"What do you mean 'no'?" I asked, miffed.
"With all these animal attacks…" Kim's voice trails off. "Didn't anyone from Forks offer you a ride?"
I briefly debate telling her I'm willing to roll the dice on getting into it rabid bear if it means not being stuck in a car full of people, then decide against it. "I mean, yes."
"So tell them something changed and you need a ride, now. Good grief, it's not that hard Lydia."
There was that sassy Kim I remembered. I toy with the idea of not going to La Push at all, but then realize I'd be facing many questions from Aunt Julie about the sudden lack of plans.
"Fine," I hear myself saying. "I'll call Josephine or whatever her name is."
"It's Jessica, and thank you. Also! Bring a change of clothes and your toothbrush and such. I'm expecting you to spend the night with me. I'm excited to see you tomorrow!" Kim sounds jubilant and just before she ends the call (without giving me an opportunity for any further input) I hear several deep male voices begin chatting in the background.
I snap my phone shut and let my head fall to my desk with a groan. Christ ona stick what have I gotten myself into?
I awaken the next morning to the strongest sunshine I've seen in Forks thus far filtering through my curtains, which were fluttering lightly in the breeze. After admiring the beauty of it for a few seconds, a thought hit me like a freight train and I bolted upright, eyes wide.
I closed and locked the window last night, and closed the blinds and drew the curtains.
Now they were all open and inviting, the way my mother (RIP our relationship) had always done growing up, on especially fine Idaho mornings. No, no, no no no no nonono nonon- I could feel my mind descending into chaos when there's a knock on my door.
"Come in," I squeak.
Aunt Julie pops her head in the door. "Oh good, you're awake. It's so gorgeous out today I just had to open all the windows, I hope you don't mind."
"It was you?" My mind was reeling and now I felt like an idiot.
"Of course it was me. Who else would it be, weirdo? Anyway, there's some breakfast waiting if you ever choose to join the world of the woken." She shoots me a teasing smile and slips out of the door, her long dark hair swirling in a curtain around her.
I fell back into bed and stared up at the ceiling for some time, taking deep breaths to steady my quivering body. Maybe I really am losing it.
Several hours later, I was crammed into the backseat of Jessica's old beater Honda, my overnight bag at my feet. I had people I didn't know squished in on either side of me, and I'm not even going to pretend like I remember their names. The windows were down and, despite the bright sunshine, slightly-too-cold air was rushing in, making me grateful I had opted for leggings and a hoodie for this beach day. Jessica slowed for the final turn into the tiny parking lot at First Beach and I began looking around for Kim or James. Seeing nothing, I begin making plans to keep myself entertained… until my car companions began jabbering excitedly about beach volleyball.
I felt a competitive jolt. "I love volleyball!"
Jessica stuck her head back in through the open door. "You better be good 'cause Lauren, Mallory, Tyler, and Eric have already teamed up and I swear I will not survive losing to them again." She paused then added pleadingly, "Please, I can't lose to them again."
"I played varsity for Borah in Boise," I tell her, intending to briefly mention the accident before saying I wanted to try out for our school's team but then...
I remember a tall, heavily freckled girl with fire-red hair and an absolutely wicked spike and sense of humor and unending generosity and compassion on my team. One with an undying love for sour gummy worms and Gwen Stefani and for some ungodly reason, stair laps. The one who was taken from me by him. And the words I was going to say twist painfully in my throat, and a pained sort of squeak escapes me instead.
Fortunately, the car had mostly emptied and Jessica had disappeared, volleyball and net in hand. My eyes were stinging as I pulled up my hoodie and rested my forehead against the headrest in front of me, taking deep breaths, as my bully of an inner-voice talks to me. Come on, girl. Pull yourself together. You haven't cried over this in months!
This last observation doesn't help and a horrible shock of guilt hits me. I sit in the car for a few more moments, attempting to compose myself and somehow make it up to my dead friend that I had essentially killed and find a way to fake a smile for these new friends and deal with my extended family and the monsters in my school and why good God did I even agree to come on this terrible trip?!
I must've waited too long, because someone knocked on the window and scared me so badly I nearly pissed myself. It's stupid Mike, and his stupid blonde hair and stupid smile. "What're you waiting for- hey are you ok?"
I give him my best practiced smile and then do something dangerous. Something I haven't done in a long time. I begin to picture a large-ish branch from the pine tree we're parked under bending, bending, bending until it snaps and falls. Willing it to become reality. I hear a crack from somewhere overhead and then a loud - but not damaging to the already on-the-outs Honda - thud.
Mike yelps in fear and jumps up, hitting his head on the door frame. "Moth- fother mucker," he corrects himself then looks at me. "That surprised me! How did that not scare you?" He demands.
"Nerves of steel," I say, laughing. And relieved, oh so relieved that my diversion worked, as Mike holds out a hand to help me out of the cramped backseat, and I'm willing to let him. I make a big show of pretending I don't notice his beaming smile. When he doesn't immediately release my hand, I pull it away and reach for the broken tree branch on top of the car, feigning curiosity.
I run my fingers along the rough bark, uncomfortably aware of Mike's gaze. Abruptly, I turn and javelin-throw it into the trees nearby. I turn towards the beach, where the volleyball net is fluttering half assembled. Mike jogs over to help an exasperated Jessica, currently fighting a losing battle with the wind to keep her hair in place. I couldn't have taken more than a few steps when I hear the snap of a large piece of wood behind me. I swung around so quickly I could feel my feet lose traction on the treacherous combination of pine needles and sand littering the ground. I could hear a pack of wolves start howling in the near distance. Scrambling to my knees, my eyes searched frantically but find nothing except shifting shadows.
I'm about to dismiss the snap as coming from a deer probably more terrified than me when I think I see a bone-pale shadow moving towards me, just barely beyond where I can make it out clearly. The howling sounds closer, much, much closer and the shadow seems to vanish into thin air. A few moments later I can hear the heavy breathing and low growls of a wolf pack, just where the white shadow had been, and then they disappear too. Then, the only sounds are the waves crashing into sand, birds twittering overhead, the breeze in the trees, and my friends yelling and laughing behind me.
It's nothing, I'm telling myself. Even as memories of that note, the open window, the feeling of being watched are all coming together to paint a picture that could only include suffering and fear.
Nothing at all.
Much later that afternoon, after several aggressive rounds of prison-rules volleyball in which Team Jessica, Mike, Angela, and Lydia decisively lost, and hours spent hiking to Second Beach, I was returning to the parking lot after spending entirely too much time walking through the frigid surf and swiping my now very windswept hair from my face. Whilst attempting to work through some distressingly large knots, I very nearly didn't notice that the group of people I had left to go traipsing through the waves had nearly doubled in size. Not that I had much time to process that when I did notice because a small, surprisingly strong figure rugby-tackled me into the sand.
I couldn't help but to admire the sun sinking in a dazzling array of colors from my position trapped beneath someone who had now flung their arms around me in a tight, sandy hug, while chattering excitedly in my ear.
"Hugh, Kate, and Orlando," I gasped, struggling away from the chokehold the person had on me.
"What the fuck?" The person sat up, and I could finally see that the tiny gremlin with wrestling moves was Kim, features beautifully accented by the setting sun, her hair in a messy top knot. "'Hugh, Kate, and Orlando'? What's that about?"
"Ah," I said, sucking in air like an alcoholic downing the finest single-malt whiskey. "I'm trying to, ya know, not be taking the Lord's name in vain. Too many religious whackos in Boise… it offended them. So I name the current celebrity deities instead: Hugh Jackman, Kate Winslet, and Orlando Bloom."
Kim stands and looks down at me, eyes narrowed, her incredible lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. "You're even more of an idiot than I remember. I missed you." She pulls me to my feet and we finally give each other a proper hug, although she's so tiny her eyes are level with my collarbones.
"Come meet everyone," she says chirpily as she tugs me over to the crowd that's formed around the fire. I can see that the Forks crew has packed up and is heading towards the car, and then I remember my overnight bag is stashed in the backseat of Jessica's car.
"FUCK." I said loudly and Kim raises her eyebrows and presses her hands together in a prayer symbol and mouths Hugh, Kate, and Orlando. "Shut up, Kim." I call over my shoulder as I run, sandals in hand, to Jessica's car.
I arrive to smiles all around. "Oh, there you are. Thought you'd run afoul of those wolves we heard earlier." Eric says in what he clearly thinks is a funny way.
"Unfortunately no, only of the sand which has gotten into every damn crack in my body. Every One."
"That sucks," Lauren says, not looking away from Eric. "Here's your bag by the way."
"Thanks," I place my bag at my feet and lean over to give Jessica a hug. "I'll see you guys on Monday! Bye!"
A chorus of farewells swelled and as I waved goodbye I felt the seabreeze begin to pick up and the temperature drop noticeably. "Time to go get in on that bonfire action," I muttered, turning back towards the beach, dragging my bag behind me.
Snatches of conversation floated my direction as I walked up.
"...leech doing on our…"
"...been so close…"
"...haven't seen this one…"
All the strands of conversation broke off abruptly as I neared and a ring of nervous smiles flashed my way. Someone, who I only just realized was James stepped forward to lift my bag effortlessly over his head. Aunt Julie wasn't kidding, I thought. He was huge.
"Good to see you again, punk." He dropped my bag next to a log bench and put me in a headlock, mussing my hair even more before attempting to go for a tickle.
"NoOo," the sound that left my throat was nearly guttural in my attempt to evade this torture. I tried to twist underneath his arm but it was like fighting an unnaturally warm brick wall.
"Dude, are you sick? You're burning up!" I said trying to find any weak point in his roid-raged body.
"Nope, just run warm." He finally lets me go and I'm immediately shocked by a gust of chilly, ocean wind.
"Introductions!" Kim jutted in hastily. "Lydia, this is Jared, my boyfriend," she accompanied this with an adoring gaze that made me gag. "Embry, Quil, Jacob, Seth, Crystal, and Leah. We have more in our little gang that you can meet later, they're working the evening shift right now."
"Cool," I said, instantly forgetting everyone's name except Leah and that was because she was the literal embodiment of strength and grace and I envied her immediately. Or, she appeared so from the quickly vanishing sunlight and flickering firelight dancing across her features and flawlessly toned muscles.
"Enough with the names. Food time!" One of the boys proclaims loudly and is immediately met with loud affirmations all around. He leaned over and popped open the cooler next to him, and began pulling out burgers and hot dogs to be thrown on the grill plate someone had placed over the fire.
The other girl, whose name I had already forgotten, began opening bags of chips and passing them around. I did a double take when I saw the small mountain of food they had brought.
"'Roids making you hungry, Jimmy?" I asked, nodding towards the edible pile.
"I'm not-" He sighs. "Yes, they are."
The Other Girl hands me a bag of chips so I don't bother responding to James. Hunger crashed into me like a tsunami and I tore into the bag. The next few hours passed in a merry blur: reacquainting myself with my cousins (who well and truly did not seem to be going down a bad path), meeting new friends, delicious overcooked food, chilly sea air, and the roaring fire. The rest of the world and all of its threats, its malice, its cruelty fading along with the sun as it sank into the horizon.
I wasn't sure how late it was when a large hand gently jostled my shoulder. "We're headed back to James' and Kim's place for the night."
I looked up rather dazed. I couldn't see whoever's face was talking to me, just shadows cast by the dying bonfire and his outline blotting out the stars. They offered their hand to me and I took it with both of mine, relishing in the intense heat before I frowned.
"Are you sick, too?" I asked.
"Nope, us Quileute run hot." He jokes, reaching over to pluck my bag off the sand with ease. Someone dumps the remaining ice and water from the cooler over the fire and then suddenly all we have is beautiful, unadulterated starlight and the distant twinkle of house lights.
I can't help but look up and admire the crystal clarity glittering above me, the chatter around me blending in seamlessly with the ambient background noise. A chorus of wolf howls cut through the air, melodic and reverberating. It seemed to match the moment well. What followed immediately after, however, did not.
Abruptly, I'm shoved backward, bumping into Kim and Crystal. Leah, James, and the others seem to be standing at rigid attention facing the treeline.
"What's going-" I begin and Kim just reaches for my hand and shakes her head so I stop talking.
I try to peer over the shoulders of the human blockade in front of me but it doesn't work so I settle for the cracks between arms and torsos instead. I can't see much, only lights from semi-distant houses and the lone light in the parking lot. It's in the pool of light in the parking lot that I see movement. I recognize the figure gazing towards the treeline. It's Mike.
I step around the end of the human chain - Quil, I think - evading his arm reaching for me as if to stop me. I begin walking hurriedly over to him. "Mike! What are you doing? You were supposed to have left hours ago! Are you ok?"
This seems to break him of whatever is holding his gaze that I can't see. "Lydia," he says, turning towards me. He almost seems to seize then lunges toward me and I stop dead.
His eyes… the blank canvas look. I know it. It terrifies me. My eyes can't help but rake over the rest of his figure. He looks disheveled. He has a small package in his hands.
"He told me to give this to you," Mike says, with what sounds like desperation. "I have to give it to you. He said you'd understand."
I can hear movement behind me.
"No," I began backing away, fear erupting like a volcano. (bright autumn leaves) "I don't want it. Take it back and tell him," I gulp (round little pond with the little row boat), "tell him I don't want it and to leave and-" I stumble backwards (drowned little sister and smiling demon) into a set of large, hot hands and Mike presses his advantage, shoving the small immaculately wrapped package into my chest, successfully evading the large hand that attempted to intercept it.
"He says, 'I saw you admiring this, so I got it for you.'" Mike recites and then, like that, the real Mike is back. He looks dazed. The wolves continue howling.
"What am I doing here?" He asks, lightly confused. Life was back in his eyes.
"Leave," I tell him, choking on tears and fear even though I know he doesn't have control over what just happened. "LEAVE!" I scream.
He steps back, eyes wide, his hand going to his jacket to fish out his keys. "Ok, Lydia. I get the hint. I'll see you Monday." And then he turns and walks away to his car, like he hasn't just ruined everything.
For a few seconds that feel like an eternity, nobody moves. Even the wind is still for a heartbeat. Then, reality begins to catch back up to time. Loud voices begin shouting around me, and I'm pushed back behind the human blockade again.
"...smelled like…"
"...Lydia…"
"...I don't understand…"
I do. I thought. There's no where I can go that he won't find me. And there's no one who can stand between him and me.
A morbid curiosity about the package grips me, even though I know I should turn and throw it into the sea crashing endlessly behind me. I walk around the agitated people in front of me, utterly oblivious to their confusion. I'm heading toward the streetlight so I can see the package in its weak light.
"Lydia, don't!"
"Let us handle it," one of the boys said.
As if. I'm not sure when I decided that I would never let anyone face this monster but myself but I feel confident about it. No more lives lost because of me.
The package is small. A delicate white box wrapped up in a perfect red satin bow. Somehow, I know what's inside. But that doesn't prepare me anyway. With a slight tremor, I pull apart the bow and let it slither to the ground like a bloodied snake. I rip off the top of the package, fast, like a bandaid and pull out the heart shaped box. Gorgeous dark-wood with beautiful engravings. I flip open the lid. There's a note inside.
When I read it, I scream.
