North Star
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter Nine:
Bella
I embrace the weekend with a grateful sigh, unspeakably relieved to get away from Forks High School, and from Edward Cullen, in particular. He's transferred into most of my classes, has made an effort to sit close by me in every single one of them, and is either oblivious to - or uncaring of - the fact I am not at all pleased, impressed, or charmed by the change, or by the obvious effort expended to see it through.
Mercifully, I have wonderful, amazing friends who are equally as perturbed by Edward Cullen's persistence (re: harassment), and in the last three days, I have not only been witness to some of the most creative efforts in avoidance and diversion I've ever seen, but I've also knowingly, willingly, and cheerfully participated in them, too.
"Weekend plans?" Tyler asks. He's slouched in the passenger seat of my new truck, his eyes on the roiling clouds overhead, but his body is turned in my direction, and I don't doubt that he's waiting for my response.
"There's a tribe only bonfire on Saturday night," I answer, "I thought I'd head down, visit with my mom's side of the family, you know?"
"Sounds good," Tyler acknowledges, "What are the bonfires like?"
"They're great," I enthuse, "Though calling it a bonfire is a bit of a misnomer. It goes all day, like a picnic day, you know? It's like a beachside barbecue, potluck thing, but after nightfall, they set up the bonfire, and Billy - he's the Chief of the Tribe - tells some of the legends around our peoples origins, things like that. Not everyone stays to listen, but I've always been fascinated by them, so I figure I'll stick around until the stories wrap up. Anyway, what about you? Any plans?"
Tyler shrugs. "Not really. The guys were talking about a game night - you know, Halo and Call of Duty or whatever? - but I've never really been into that. I might go anyway though. Eric's Mom's dumplings are amazing."
I laugh as I pull into my driveway. "That's such a guy thing to do. The video game thing, I mean."
Tyler grins wryly at me from over the hood of my truck. It's an old, rusted red monstrosity, and a 16th birthday present from Charlie, to boot. I adore it to pieces.
"I guess it's a stereotype for a reason."
"I suppose so," I concede.
Tyler and I chat for a little longer, but he eventually heads home to unwind from what has turned out to be a spectacularly unpleasant week, and I retreat inside to do the same. Unwinding, of course, involves baking brownies, an ice cream sundae for dinner, and binge watching 'Criminal Minds', 'NCIS', and 'Law & Order: SVU', but Charlie's on the late shift, and I have no regrets.
Unsurprisingly, I fall asleep on the couch, and when I wake, I'm covered by one of Nana Swan's hand-knitted blankets, and the late news is on. With the volume turned down low, Charlie's munching on a slice of pepperoni pizza in his trusty recliner, and I relax further against the couch, content and comfortable.
At present, safe in my father's care, there is nowhere else I'd rather be.
On Saturday, Charlie whoops my ass during another morning run, and I pretend to believe him when he says I'm improving. I'm optimistic that my endurance will improve when I start up my new dance classes at the only studio in town, but in any case, it's not something I brood over.
Instead, after my morning round of Yoga (and breakfast, of course), I begrudgingly proceed through what chores I haven't completed throughout the week, and afterwards, I drive down to the supermarket in order to stock up on groceries and the like.
When I return home, it's to find Charlie's folded all the laundry, cleaned the kitchen, and mowed the lawn. He's in the midst of beating the hedges in the backyard - the ones that line the fence between us and our only neighbours - into submission, and I leave him to it with a fond, endeared grin.
God, I love my father.
After I pack away the groceries, I vacuum the carpets, mop the floors, and clean the bathroom. It's the last item on my to-do list, so when I'm done, I return to the kitchen and make up an early lunch for myself and Charlie. It's nothing special - just sandwiches, with a side of potato chips and soda - but the Chief demolishes three of them, and a brownie from the night before, as well.
"Plans for tonight, Bells?" Charlie asks. He insists on washing the dishes, and while he does that, I get started on the potato salad, and the (separate) fruit salad I intend to take down to La Push.
"I was going to head down to La Push for the bonfire," I answer.
Charlie nods, satisfied. He's got plans to catch a game with a few of his buddies from work, but if I were to stay home, he'd have probably felt bad about it. It's a bit absurd, feeling guilty over something like that, but it's not as though I can stop him.
"I'll let Billy know you're headed down."
"Thanks," I acknowledge, and continue on with my food prep. As I do so, time flies, and before I know it, it's passed two in the afternoon, and La Push calls my name.
Thomas Littlesea meets me at the parking lot by First Beach, tall and barrel-chested, with salt and pepper hair and a scar above his eyebrow. He's my uncle, a jovial, good-natured fellow quick to laugh, and even quicker to smile.
"There's my favourite niece," he greets me cheerfully, laughing as he pulls me into a hug. He spins us around while we embrace, and it's as though I'm a little girl again. "Where the hell have you been, Izzy-B? I haven't seen you in a month."
"I've been around," I answer, shrugging and smiling, "Just busy. How are things, Uncle?"
"Oh you know how it is, same old shit, different day."
"I can't imagine that," I answer, tone droll, but shrug the thought of school off quickly. No use making myself miserable. "Are you here to help me carry the food?"
"That's me," Uncle Thomas confirms, "Pack mule. I even brought my protege."
Collin appears then, 10 years old, bright-eyed and exuberant in a way I'm sure I've never been. He's one of the few cousins Jacob and I share, through my uncle and Jacob's aunt, and he is the spitting image of Uncle Thomas.
"Aunt Linda's not here yet, so neither are the others," Collin explains.
Aunt Linda is the eldest of the six Littlesea siblings, and aside from Uncle Thomas, the only one to have remained in La Push. She's perpetually late to everything, and although it's occasionally frustrating as far as her siblings are concerned, it's also become something of a running joke among everyone else in the family.
In this particular instance, 'the others' are my and Collin's cousins. Aunt Linda's older boys have since left the nest, but her younger children, Ryan, Simon, and Terrence are underage and therefore still around.
Usually, they act as pack mules, too.
"Why does that not surprise me?" I acknowledge wryly, and carefully deposit the bowl of fruit salad in Collin's twiggy arms, "Don't drop that."
"I won't," Collin assures, and wanders off to where his mother, Aunt Jenny, holds down the fort. Her youngest, Micaylah, crawls around the picnic blankets, but her other two - Isaiah and Aaron - run wild in the shallows, and they beckon for Collin to join them.
As older siblings are apparently prone to do, Collin ignores them. I wouldn't know, of course.
I deposit the potato salad on the picnic blanket Aunt Jenny's reserved for our food, Collin does the same with the fruit salad, and Uncle Thomas brings up the rear with the dish of brownies. There's already a huge platter of quartered sandwiches there, and a cooler full of soft drinks, and I wonder idly what else Aunt Linda could possibly provide.
I don't dwell on the question though, more interested in greeting Aunt Jenny and six month old Micaylah, and it's not until Aunt Linda arrives that anything really changes.
"Swanny," Ryan greets me carelessly, drops gracelessly onto the picnic blanket beside me, and tickles one of Micaylah's little feet with a fond grin. "How goes it?"
Ryan, at 15, is the cousin I'm closest to. He and I are in the same grade, and although we have other cousins in the same general age group as us, we hardly see them. They're spread out across the US, in Hawaii and Alaska and where the hell ever else, and it's no surprise that during family gatherings, he has always been my go-to playmate.
"It's going," I offer him a hug, and he returns it with a begrudging roll of his eyes, "How are you?"
Ryan shrugs. "Same old, same old."
I hum my acknowledgement as Aunt Linda sets up her collapsable chair beside Aunt Jenny's. Simon, Terence, and Collin jet off to join Isaiah, Aaron, and a small horde of other children in the water, determined to soak up the last dregs of summer before the chill of autumn - and the ensuing winter - truly sets in.
Between being quizzed about my and my parents' wellbeing, and contributing to the conversation between the adults in our group, Ryan and I chat idly about the new school year, how I've settled into Forks High, what I think about my classmates and what have you. I tease him about his girlfriend, he accepts it with long-suffering grace - no doubt, I'm the most recent in a long line of people to do so - and the time passes. We're joined sporadically by the boys, Simon and Terrence, Collin, Isaiah, and Aaron, loud, rambunctious, and energetic, and someway, somehow, Ryan and I are drawn, good-humoured and resigned, into their horseplay.
In nothing but my bathing suit, the water's freezing, unsurprisingly, but the company is enough to fend off the chill, and I guess I can't complain. I laugh instead, joyous in the presence of my people, far from the fear I'm plagued by in Forks, and I don't know how it can get better than this.
I learn quickly, though.
Author's Note: Unless the muse demands otherwise, next chapter will be the one you've all been waiting for.
Apologies for the wait. The muse took me away from the Twilight fandom again, but as I've said previously, I'm not quite done with Bella and Paul and the gang. That said, catch you in the new year. -t.