Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight

Chapter 8 - Ancient Lore

Friday morning comes along but I am in no hurry to get to school. I know Lynn and the rest of their family won't be there. Throughout the day, Mike and Jeff joke about Lynn being interested in me, based on our lunch time conversation, but I tell them we were just talking about school stuff. My blushes probably give me away but eventually they get tired of pestering me.

At lunch, the Cullens' table is, predictably, empty. It still saddens me a little, and I tell myself to get a grip. Dad was surely exaggerating, I rationalize; it's just a bigger crush than I'm accustomed to. None of that changes the way the world disappears when we are together. How we only focus on each other's words and reactions. The unknown feelings stirring my being to my very core. I have to admit I already miss her.

Jessica and Mike talk about a TV show. Jeff and Eric focus on sports. Angela is comparing history notes with Lauren. I force my food down my throat and wonder where the Cullens are. I should probably worry a little more about what they are, I suppose, but my previous theories have been offhandedly rejected. Hmmm, I suppose she could be an alien, but why come all the way to Earth, from another system, to hide in Forks? It doesn't make sense… There's nothing here, and nobody.

At dinner dad reminds me that he'll be off fishing the whole weekend. He seems worried about leaving me alone so often but I remind him that I'm a chip off the old block and I will enjoy some time on my own. I don't want to disrupt his routine and I know how much he loves his fishing expeditions and the company of his buddies. He wonders whether I will see Lynn, but I explain that the Cullens will be camping the whole weekend. Something in my tone tells him I'm not too happy about it.

I won't mention it, but I'm already resigned to the idea that she will break my heart, one way or another. At this point I'm just curious about her feelings… She said she was tired of staying away from me. That seems pretty clear. But then again, why ignore me that long then? And at times she seems mad at me, or sad. Yet, I'm the one she wants to spend time with on the weekend and I'm certainly the only guy, outside her family, she ever sat with in the cafeteria. My mind is stranded in a carousel of hypotheses and counter-hypotheses that just won't stop while I pretend to watch a TV show with dad. As far as I know, it could be a dystopian thriller or slapstick. I keep thinking of Lynn and how she claimed to be dangerous. It's possible, obviously. If she's strong enough to stop a van she could probably snap my spine with one hand. I don't really know who or what she is though. I don't think she will tell me either. In a nutshell, she told me that she wants to be closer to me, but she's afraid it will be dangerous for me. It seems to imply a lot more than friendship, despite the potential risks she hinted at. That gives me a sudden thrill, like a jolt of hope, but it can't be right.

All of this thinking is not helping. I bid my father good night and go to sleep; I end up painting a few more imaginary maps on the ceiling as my churning thoughts refuse to settle. The wind whips fronds at my window and rain thrums on the roof. I finally drift off and dream of moonlit hilltops and butterscotch eyes.

Saturday I catch up with homework and review some of my notes. I also take care of a few chores, mindful of my sore rib, and play the guitar. Tired out, I have no trouble plunging into a restful sleep.

On Sunday I wake up early but I've already done all my homework. I could call some of the guys to see what they're up to. They're probably with their girls, though, and that reminds me I can't see Lynn today. I need a distraction, and they're not it; they'd just make me feel worse. But I can't play soccer or do anything too strenuous. On impulse, I call Jacob, at the rez, as he calls it.

"Hello."

"Jacob, it's Brandon. What are you up to today?"

"Been working on an engine. Not much I can do until I get the parts I need though. Wanna come out and hang out? We could chill at the beach. Hold on. Yeah, Becca says you should join us."

"I'll see you as soon as your truck gets me there."

"Excellent, but don't be so snide; it's built for endurance rather than speed."

"Don't I know it? I'll see you there."

I hang up and drive to the reservation. It takes me more than an hour; Jacob wasn't joking when he said this truck is not built for speed. The early morning was just as gray and drizzly as usual, but the clouds have quickly unraveled and more sunlight than we've seen in days is filling the horizon.

When I reach their home, Rebecca welcomes me with a hug that sends a stabbing pain through my chest. I yowl in pain and she backs off.

"Oopsie." She says as I try to avoid staring at her; as I already noticed, the chubby kid I remember from childhood trips has turned into a willowy youth. Her long hair is straight and so dark it shines almost bluish in the sunlight and her eyes are pools of liquid darkness beneath dreamy eyelashes.

"It's good to see you too, Becca, but I'm a little fragile right now."

"So no soccer today, I guess. What happened?"

"I got injured in the Friday game and have a cracked rib to prove it. Bummer, but no big deal. I'll be fine in a couple of weeks. How have you been doing? And where's Jacob?"

"He's still buried under his new car. Well, if you want to call a pile of junk that doesn't go anywhere a car. He'll join us in a bit. Come in and have an orange juice or something."

"Sure."

"Yeah, hey, I have an idea," she says while rummaging through the fridge for a soda. I end up just getting a glass of water from the tap. It's good enough. "Let's go to the beach." She continues. "You remember Sam right? He wants to try surfing again."

"Oh yeah, I thought he said only white people enjoyed it."

"His new girlfriend helped him change his mind. She's really into it."

Jacob emerges from the washroom. He just had a shower. I still marvel at his height, over six feet. And he's one year younger than me. His hair is long and straight, like his sister's.

"What are you two plotting?" He asks, mock-frowning. I laugh and then shriek in pain.

"Nothing much, Jake. Your sister suggested going down to the beach."

"Sounds like a plan."

So we head toward the shore on foot to enjoy the unusually balmy weather. By the time we reach our destination I'm already sweating lightly. On the way, Rebecca tells me about some of the plants we walk by, as she often does. Jacob likes his motors, but my lack of expertise stunts the conversation until we change the subject.

We have known each other since childhood, so even though we were never that close we feel comfortable together and often tease each other. When Jacob hints that Rebecca has a crush on an unidentified individual, she responds by wondering whether he will marry one of his cars. They also tease me about my lack of charm with the ladies, common knowledge even on the rez apparently, but I point out that things have been different lately. They both want to hear more details and I tell them that some girls asked me to the dance but I turned them down. The music will be awful at this event.

"What? You always complain you're single and when girls ask you out you say no?" Jacob asks me and laughs before I can answer. Rebecca just tilts her head and looks at me funny.

"What?" I ask her, surprised she's keeping quiet.

"Nothing. But I don't think the music is the real reason…"

"No? What is, then?"

Before she can answer we arrive at the beach and we all go say hi to a group of youngsters, a mixture of natives and kids from the town. They are donning wetsuits and polishing their boards. I look at the desolate stretch of coastline before me, lost in its rugged beauty. There are no signs of human settlements here. The shore is mostly rocky, and a few swathes of gray, gritty sand are not enough to turn this place into a tourist attraction.

I greet Sam and a couple of guys I recognize from the soccer team. While they dare to jump in the freezing waters, I head up a hill with Jacob and Rebecca. We sit on the grass, still damp despite the recent sunshine, and munch on some smoked salmon Jacob's father gave them this morning.

"Becca," I ask her suddenly, still staring at the turbulent waters below us and the guys' desperate efforts to balance on their flimsy boards as the waves buffet them relentlessly, "you were about to say something, earlier on."

"She was saying your music tastes are just an excuse. I think she's right." Jacob grins.

"I do hate house music. With a passion." I sound defensive but can't help it.

"Right, but still…."

He just leers at me, suggestively.

"Er, is that what you were going to say, Becca?"

"Yes, but I was also planning to add that maybe I can guess the reason."

"Oh yeah? And what would that be then?" I eye her suspiciously.

"I think there must be some other girl you like a lot more. It's the only explanation that makes sense." She looks at me with strange eyes, emotions I can't read or comprehend swirl in their depths.

I shake my head, but it's just a ruse and my blushes give it away.

"She's right. Obviously. You've turned purple dude." Jacob says, happy to twist the knife in the wound.

"Ah, maybe…" I stammer.

"So, who's the lucky girl then? We know most kids in town." Jacob attempts a more conspiratorial tone now, and I can't help laughing.

"Well," I begin, but can't come up with any story they might believe, or anything that might buy me some time.

"Come on, Brand. We are old friends. You can tell us." Rebecca piles on, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Well, what the heck, they are like siblings.

"Okay, okay, you got me. There is one girl I like. But I think my feelings are not reciprocated. It's hard to tell. Sometimes she's quite friendly, other times the opposite."

"So who is she? The suspense is killing us man!"

"Lynn."

"Who?" They both ask in unison.

"Lynn Cullen." I say, looking down at my feet. I only hear a sharp intake of breath from my friends, though, and when I look up their expressions are pained.

"What? What's wrong? Do you know her?"

"Not really. The Cullens don't come here." Jacob explains slowly, his face dark and unreadable. Rebecca looks disappointed rather than surprised. I wonder whether she was hoping I would say her name instead. It must be wishful thinking on my part. She has become very attractive indeed.

"The Cullens don't come here? Why not? What do you mean?"

"They don't like us natives." Rebecca jokes.

"No, come on…. What's wrong? She's gorgeous, probably too beautiful for the likes of me but…."

They exchange an odd look, some unspoken communication going on between them. They both look serious now, but eventually Becca nods and Jacob grins.

"Would you like to hear some old legends?" He asks, almost innocently. Something is up. Is he just trying to change the subject? Only one way to find out.

"Sure. This should be interesting." I feel Becca's stare on me, insistent, questioning.

"The Quileute elders like to tell us that, for centuries now, humans have shared the Earth with, well, creatures with unusual powers and abilities. Creatures that mostly inhabit a world that rarely collides with the one of common men. Their origin is unclear, cloaked in mystery, their numbers low. They co-exist with humans. Small tribes, in comparison, but gifted with supernatural skills."

While Jacob talks, I think of Lynn pushing a van away from us. Maybe there is a point to this story after all.

"We call them the Ancient Clans. If our elders' stories are true then their members still live, in secret, among us." He chuckles a little, and creeps me out even more. Rebecca is frowning now.

"How much should we tell him?" She interrupts him…. "Don't forget the treaty….."

Jacob laughs it off.

"Brandon is like a brother. We have known him since we were kids."

"Yeah, well, his dad is practically family. Still… our father was adamant we should honor our obligations." She winks at me. "I'd really like to tell him everything though. Just to see his face."

"Er, guys," I interject. "I'm still right here. And for another thing, what the hell are you talking about? Have you learned how to talk to friends from the same school where Lynn picked up all her tricks?"

They look at me dumbfounded and I let it go.

"Here's the thing, Brandon…" Jacob again, his face hard. "You are almost an honorary Quileute. If we tell you our biggest secret, will you promise not to share it with anyone, including your parents?"

I'm starting to wonder whether this is all part of some kind of prank, or maybe an attempt to scare me with silly superstitions. Maybe they want to watch the pale face, as they sometimes call me in jest, squirm. This is all so bizarre.

"I promise I won't reveal to anyone what you are about to tell me." I'll play along for now.

"Becca. You want to enlighten him?"

"Okay. Brandon, I'm happy we will tell you everything, but don't let us down."

"I won't…" I say, rolling my eyes. Jacob chuckles.

"Oh, I got it. You think we are pulling your leg, right? Trying to sell you some horror story…. yes?"

"Something like that." I say, grinning.

"Becca. Tell him. I'll take care of the rest." He winks at her.

"So, you remember we mentioned some very unusual clans. The elders think there were many, but they are not clear on whether they all survive to this day. We know two of them clans still exist. The Quileutes are one of them. The Cullens happen to belong to another one. One that doesn't always get along nicely with others. I will grant you that they are an exception. That's why we have a treaty with them."

"A treaty? You mentioned that already. What do you mean?" This is a well-crafted story. It doesn't look like they're lying exactly. I think they are just trying to make me believe in some old legends. This is all very intriguing. I almost feel tempted to fall for this stuff, but there's got to be a punchline.

"Yes." Jacob shrugs, taking over the narration. "They don't come to the reservation and we don't go near their house. Remaining territories are neutral."

"So your tribe and the Cullens are opposing clans…. How are those strange clans different from humans then? How are you and the Cullens any different from me?"

They exchange another look and decide to do it as a team.

"We are werewolves…" Rebecca almost growls.

"And they're vampires, but not the normal kind. They only feed on animals rather than on humans. Hence our truce."

I look at them for a few more seconds. Their deadpan seriousness is perfect, a work of art. It will take a lot more than that to make me believe this nonsense. Predictably, I burst out laughing.

"Oh, of course. You're thinking ignorant savages will believe everything, right?" Jacob looks serious, but a smirk at the end betrays his intentions.

"That's a cheap shot, Jake. Like you said, we are practically family and your dad is my father's best friend. I certainly don't think of you as savages, not to mention you're the best mechanic I know. But dude, come on, you're talking about werewolves and vampires. Fairy tales. I would have laughed at anybody who claimed to believe stuff like that, even the president of the US himself. It's obvious you're just pulling my leg. You think I'm a dumb pale face who will believe in horror stories so easily?"

Their features reset in smirk mode. They don't answer me, though; they just look at each other, like a comedy duo performing a well-rehearsed skit.

"Should we show him?" Becca asks him. "I'm not sure his heart could take it. What do you think?"

Jacob casts an appraising glance in my direction.

"Let's just ask him. Brandon, do you like wolves?"

"Yeah, they're pretty cool." I mutter, uncertain.

"If Jake turned into one, right here, in front of you, would it bother you much? You wouldn't stroke on us, would you?"

"What you are suggesting is impossible." It's hard not to say it. It should be evident.

"Just pretend it is. Would you survive it?"

"And," Jacob adds, "are you willing to swear you won't tattle? It's between us."

I just snort with contempt, or try to. It sounds more like a sneeze.

"I don't believe any of this but sure, if you want to show me some evidence, go ahead. I won't faint." Am I starting to believe them? Wow, they're good. Still, it's got to be a joke.

Jacob has one more look around. The surfers are all splashing about in the water, well below us. There is nobody else. He starts stripping.

"Our clothes do not phase like we do." Becca explains in a nonchalant voice. She sounds like she's teaching basic math.

"Incidentally, that's also why Jacob has to show you. You won't get to see me naked so easily mister. At the very least I expect to be wined and dined first."

I can't tell whether she's serious, but Jacob is still getting rid of his clothes. Maybe it's a different kind of joke. Maybe he has a wolf tattoo.

"Are you ready to observe?" He asks, now in the buff. I was wrong. No ink anywhere on his body.

"Yeah, whatever." I pretend to stifle a yawn.

Becca winks, and the air around Jacob starts to shimmer. I rub my eyes with clenched fists. A bright aura envelops him, and his body becomes a dark silhouette, lost in the fog, shifting, lengthening. The glittery mist fades and I find myself face to face with an impossibly large wolf covered in russet fur. Blood drains from my face and I stumble backward a couple of steps. The wolf just stares at me, his features twisting into an excellent imitation of a human smile. He looks smug. He winks at me before darting off toward the interior.

"He can't just phase again. He will have to wait and that's more fun if we run around or hunt. He'll be back." Rebecca explains calmly. And then she laughs, harder and harder, until she's almost rolling on the ground, clutching her stomach.

"You should see your face." She finally says. I am shocked, that's for sure. My jaw is still hanging open. Jacob's discarded clothes remind me of his supernatural transformation.

"Er, huh…." I'm having trouble remembering my own name. Who am I exactly? Rebecca finally stops laughing and becomes serious.

"Brandon? Are you okay? Are you having a stroke? Please say something."

Brandon? Oh, yeah, right, that's me.

"I'm okay." I manage to exhale. I need to focus on my breathing.

And just like that, I have learned something I will never be able to unlearn; the world is a lot more mysterious than I'd ever dreamed.

"This is….Far out….."

She responds with another throaty laugh. My head is stil spinning.

My mother is extremely open-minded, always willing to embark on new quests of discovery, always in search of a new holy grail, always willing to listen to a new prophet. Sometimes to a fault, other times with desirable results. Perhaps as a reaction, I'd always felt I was more grounded, more realistic. I read a lot of fiction of course, my form of escape, but the world always seemed as banal as most people think it is. I'm stupid; when Lynn saved me I should have understood life had a lot more to offer. Speaking of which…

"Wait a minute. If werewolves are real….."

Rebecca looks at me with narrowed eyes. Is she curious about my reaction? Is she waiting for me to say something?

"Vampires are real too." I complete my thought by myself. Rebecca smiles, and then her expression dissolves…. She looks at me with renewed worry.

"The Cullens are vampires then? Are you serious?" I finally ask her.

"Well, not like in the movies. As you can see they can go out in the daytime. But they live a long time, and they feed on blood, so that is rather accurate." I'd like to respond, but I don't know what to say. This is all so surreal. The world will never be the same now. I can't grasp all the implications but yeah, this is huge.

Jacob eventually returns, still in wolf-shape, but phases back to human and puts his clothes back on right away. When he sits with us he's still smiling, and he still looks smug.

"So what do you think of our legends now, pale face?"

"Awesome stuff man."

"Do you still like that girl then? Now you know what she is." He's curious, almost tilting his head as he stares at me.

"Good question. I'm not sure. She did save my life so obviously I will always be a friend, if she wants me to be. Beyond that, well, I guess she wouldn't be interested in romance with a human." My heart sinks into a bottomless chasm and I try to hide my disappointment. Unless…..

"You know," Jacob adds, frowning, "I have to admit you're taking all this a lot better than I expected. I guess I don't give you enough credit."

"I can't deny that your evidence is pretty convincing, but I think I'm still processing it all. Maybe I'll feel really bad about it later. Tell me more about your treaty."

"Not a lot to add, actually." Rebecca decides to answer me. She's scowling now, though, distracted. Jacob takes the conn.

"They don't come to the reserve and we don't go near their house. In other areas, we have to interact peacefully. Actually, this treaty was established by our now deceased great-grandfather, Ephraim Black."

"Haven't the Cullens just moved here?"

"No, man, they just moved back." He says with a smirk. "My father cannot phase. The talent skipped his generation, but many Quileutes our age can, including Rebecca. The elders call us the protectors of the tribe."

"I see…."

For the rest of the afternoon I bombard them with questions about the Cullens and their abilities, but end up mostly learning about werewolves. My friends only recently discovered their own talent, about a year ago. According to their elders they will live a lot longer than average humans, like the vampires they are supposed to protect the tribe from. Avoiding scrutiny will be tricky if they don't age as fast as normal people, but it's not an issue yet. He says that they will mate for life through something called imprinting. When they meet their soulmate they will know it right away. It sounds like magic.

They don't know a lot about the Cullens, aside from the fact that most of the usual myths appear to be totally unreliable. Besides, according to Jacob the elders are unnecessarily cautious. He met Emmet and Jasper a few times and he's confident the Cullens will not prey on humans. When they moved back the Quileutes were, naturally, afraid, but it's now obvious that they are not a danger.

I remind them that in fact if it wasn't for Lynn Cullen's help I'd be dead. The young Quileutes appear to actually trust the Cullens; in two years they never wavered from their commitment to spare human lives. They still prefer to keep their distance. Their enhanced senses make them uncomfortable in the presence of vampires. Before I drive back home I assure them that I won't blab. As usual, it's not like anybody would believe me, but I feel like I'm guarding an even bigger secret now. I have to admit it makes me feel important, but I don't know what it means for my life expectancy.

Back home I put together a quick dinner for me and dad and then go upstairs to my room. There are many things I should think about, but I really don't want to do that right now. I play a new video by an indie band I like on youtube and try to figure out the chord changes and the lyrics. When that's accomplished, I start working on the guitar riffs and the solo. It's a slog, but I figure out most of the song, I think. When I put my guitar down, my fingers sore and almost bleeding, I'm so drained I can finally fall asleep.