Okay, where's your clutch?"
I pointed to the lever on my left handlebar. Letting go of the grip was a misake. The heavy bike wobbled underneath me, threatening to knock me sidewise. I grabbed the handle again, trying to hold it straight.
Julie it won't stay up," I complained.
"It will when you're moving," she promised. "Now where's your brake?"
"Behind my right foot."
"Wrong."
She took my right hand and curled my fingers around the lever over the throttle.
"But you said—"
"This is the brake you want. Don't use the back brake now, that's for later, when you know what you're doing."
"That doesn't sound right," I said suspiciously. "Aren't both brakes kind of important?"
"Forget the back brake, okay? Here—" She wrapped her hand around mine and made me squeeze the lever down. "That is how you brake. Don't forget." She squeezed my hand another time.
"Okay," I agreed.
"Throttle?"
I twisted the right grip.
"Gearshift?"
I nudged it with my left calf.
"Very good. I think you've got all the parts down. Now you just have to get it moving."
"Uh-huh," I muttered, afraid to say more. My stomach was contorting strangely and I thought my voice might crack. I was terrified. I tried to tell myself I had nothing to be afraid of. I'd already lived through far worse than this. In comparison, why should anything frighten me now? I should be able to look death in the face and laugh.
My stomach wasn't buying it.
I stared down the long stretch of dirt road, bordered by thick misty green on every side. The road was sandy and damp. Better than mud.
"I want you to hold down the clutch,"Julie instructed.
I wrapped my fingers around the clutch.
"Now this is crucial, Bella" Julie stressed. "Don't let go of that, okay? I want you to pretend that I've handed you a live grenade. The pin is out and you are holding down the spoon."
I squeezed tighter.
"Good. Do you think you can kick-start it?"
"If I move my foot, I will fall over," I told her through gritted teeth, my fingers tight around my life grenade.
"Okay, I'll do it. Don't let go of the clutch."
She took a step back, and then suddenly slammed her foot down on the pedal. There was a short ripping noise, and the force of her thrust rocked the bike. I started to fall sideways, but Julie caught the bike before it knocked me to the ground.
"Steady there," she encouraged. "Do you still have the clutch?"
"Yes," I gasped.
"Plant your feet—I'm going to try again." But she put her hand on the back of the seat, too, just to be safe.
It took four more kicks before the ignition caught. I could feel the bike rumbling beneath me like an angry animal. I gripped the clutch until my fingers ached.
"Try out the throttle," she suggested. "Very lightly. And don't let go of the clutch."
Hesitantly, I twisted the right handle. Though the movement was tiny, the bike snarled beneath me. It sounded angry and hungry now. Julie smiled in deep satisfaction.
"Do you remember how to put it into first gear?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Well, go ahead and do it."
"Okay."
She waited for a few seconds.
"Left foot," she prompted.
"I know," I said, taking a deep breath.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Julie asked. "You look scared."
"I'm fine," I lied. I kicked the gearshift down one notch.
"Very good," she praised me. "Now, very gently, ease up on the clutch."
She took a step away from the bike.
"You want me to let go of the grenade?" I asked in disbelief. No wonder she was moving back.
"That's how you move, Bella Just do it little by little."
As I began to loosen my grip, I was shocked to be interrupted by a voice that did not belong to the girl standing next to me.
"This is reckless and childish and idiotic, Bella," the velvet voicec fumed.
"Oh!" I gasped, and my hand fell off the clutch.
The bike bucked under me, yanking me forward and then collapsing to the ground half on top of me. The growling engine choked to a stop.
Bella?" Julie jerked the heavy bike off me with ease. "Are you hurt?"
But I wasn't listening.
"I told you so," the perfect voice murmured, crystal clear.
"Bella?" Julie shook my shoulder.
"I'm fine," I mumbled, dazed.
I wasn't fine. The voice in my head was back. It still rang in my ears. The last time I'd heard it I had been excited—relieved. This time I was horrified. I didn't want to hear it anymore. I was moving on; I had come too far and I knew this wasn't healthy. Why was the voice coming back now?
My mind ran swiftly through the possibilities. There was no familiarity here—on a road I'd never seen, doing something I'd never done before—no déjà vu. So the hallucinations must be triggered by something else… I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins again, and I thought I had the answer. Some combination of adrenaline and danger, or maybe just stupidity.
Julie was pulling me to my feet.
"Did you hit your head?" she asked.
"I don't think so." I shook it back and forth, checking. "I didn't hurt the bike, did I?" I'd feel awful if I had ruined all of Julie's hard work, and I did want to try again. I should have walked away from the bikes, from this whole endeavor, but that couldn't let her drive me away from this. I couldn't let her ruin this for me.
"No. You just stalled the engine,"Julie said, interrupting my quick speculations. "You let go of the clutch too fast."
I nodded. "Let's try again."
"Are you sure?" Julie asked.
"Positive."
This time I tried to get the kick-start myself. It was complicated; I had to jump a little to slam down on the pedal with enough force, and every time I did that, the bike tried to knock me over. Julie's hand hovered over the handlebars, ready to catch me if I needed her.
It took several good tries, and even more poor tries, before the engine caught and roared to life under me. Remembering to hold on to the grenade, I revved the throttle experimentally. It snarled at the slightest touch. There was no voice this time. My smiled mirrored Julie's now.
"Easy on the clutch," she reminded me.
"Do you want to get yourself killed?" the other voice spoke again, her tone severe.
My smile wavered. I knew Julie wasn't going to let anything serious happen to me, so I wasn't worried about that. I was worried about the voice.
"Go home to Charlie," the voice ordered. The sheer beauty of it wavered my resolution to ignore it.
"Ease off slowly," Julie encouraged me.
"I will," I said, focusing on only Julie's husky, warm voice.
The voice in my head growled against the roar of the motorcycle.
Trying to focus this time, to not listen to the voice, I relaxed my hand by tiny degrees. Suddenly, the gear caught and wrenched me forward.
And I was flying.
There was wind that wasn't there before, blowing my skin against my skull and flinging my hair back with enough force it felt like someone was tugging on it. I'd left my stomach back at the starting point; the adrenaline coursed through my body, tingling in my veins. The trees raced past me, blurring into a wall of green.
But this was only first gear. My foot itched toward the gearshift as I twisted for more gas.
"No, Bella!" the angry, honey-sweet voice ordered in my ear. "Watch what you're doing?"
"Leave me alone." I choked out the words, "leave me alone." I realized I wasn't paying attention to the road. I was going too fast and the road was starting a slow curve to the left, and I was still going straight. I panicked.
"Brakes, brakes," I muttered to myself, and I instinctively slammed down with my right foot, like I would in my truck.
The bike was suddenly unstable underneath me, shivering first to one side and then the other. It was dragging me toward the green wall, and I was going too fast. I tried to turn the handlebar the other direction, and the sudden shift of my weight pushed the bike toward the ground, still spinning toward the trees.
The motorcycle landed on top of me again, roaring loudly, pulling me across the wet sand until it hit something stationary. I couldn't see. My face was mashed into the moss. I tried to lift my head, but there was something in the way.
I was dizzy and confused. It sounded like there were three things snarling—the bike over me, the voice in my head, and something else….
"Bella!" Julie yelled, and I heard the roar of the other bike cut off.
The motorcycle no longer pinned me to the ground, and I rolled over to breathe. All the growling went silent.
"What happened?" I was still confused. I felt like I couldn't sit up. My head was spinning; why was I hearing the voice? Maybe before I would have been okay with it—wanted it—but now it was the last thing I wanted to hear. Despite my horror, I wouldn't let her ruin this for me.
"Bella!" Julie was crouching over me anxiously. "Bella , are you alive?"
"I'm okay." I sighed. I flexed my arms and legs. Everything seemed to be working correctly. "Let's try again."
"I don't think so." Julie still sounded worried. "I think I'd better drive you to the hospital first."
"I'm fine, Jules."
"Um, Bella? You've got a huge cut on your forehead, and it's gushing blood," she informed me.
I clapped my hand over my head. Sure enough, it was wet and sticky. I could smell nothing but the damp moss on my face, and that held off the nausea.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Julie." I pushed hard against the gash, as if I could force the blood back inside my head.
"Why are you apologizing for bleeding?" she wondered as she wrapped a long arm around my waist and pulled me to my feet. "Let's go. I'll drive." She held out her hand for the keys.
"Okay… But what about the bikes?" I asked, handing them over.
She thought for a second. "Wait here. And take this." She pulled off her T-shirt, already spotted with blood, and threw it to me she had a tanktop on underneath. I wadded it up and held it tightly to my forehead. I was starting to smell the blood; I breathed deeply through my mouth and tried to concentrate on Julie's scent still clinging to her shirt.
Julie jumped on the black motorcycle, kicked it to a start in one try, and raced back down the road, spraying sand and pebbles behind her. She looked athletic and professional as she leaned over the handlebars, head low, face forward, her shiny hair whipping against the russet skin of her back. I couldn't help but gawk at her.
I was surprised at how far I'd gone. I could barely see Julie in the distance when she finally got to the truck. She threw the bike into the bed and sprinted to the driver's side.
I watched as she coaxed my truck to a deafening roar in her hurry to get back to me. My head stung a little, and my stomach was uneasy, but the cut wasn't serious. Head wounds just bled more than most. But her urgency made me feel almost happy, in a strange way.
Julie, left the truck running as she raced back to me, wrapping her arm around my waist again.
"Okay, let's get you in the truck."
"I'm honestly okay, Julie I assured her as she helped me in. "Don't worry. It's just a little blood."
"Just a lot of blood," I heard her mutter as she went back for my bike.
"No, wait a minute," I grabbed her arm when she got back in. "If you take me to the ER like this, Charlie is sure to hear about it." I glanced down at the sand and dirt caked into my jeans.
"Bella, I think you need stitches. I'm not going to let you bleed to death."
"I won't," I promised. "Let's take the bikes back first, and then we'll stop at my house so I can dispose of the evidence before we go to the hospital."
"What about Charlie?"
"He said he had to work today."
"Are you really sure?"
"Trust me. I'm an easy bleeder. It's not that bad… I don't think."
Julie wasn't happy—her full mouth turned down in an uncharacteristic frown—but she didn't want to get me in trouble. I stared out the window, holding her ruined shirt to my head, occasionally stealing quick glances at her while she drove me to Forks.
The motorcycles had been a thrill, and something I could do with Julie and have fun. But the voice still bothered me—I didn't want to hear it. I did feel some sick sense of satisfaction though. I'd cheated—broken my promise just like she'd broken hers.
But would I always have these hallucinations? Did she leave me so thoroughly broken that I couldn't even live without her forcing her way back into my life? Maybe I'd have to retire my motorcycle.
Racing down the road like that had been amazing. The feel of the wind in my face, the speed and the freedom… I slowly realized it had reminded me of a past life, flying through the thick forest without a road, piggyback while she ran—I stopped thinking right there, forcing the memory from my mind. I huffed in frustration.
"You still okay?" Julie checked.
"Yeah. Thank you, Julie."
"You're welcome," she smirked. "By the way, I'm going to disconnect your foot brake tonight."
At home, I went to look at myself in the mirror first thing; it was pretty gruesome. Blood was drying in thick streaks across my cheek and neck, my hair near the cut was matted with blood and dirt. I could understand Julie's panic. I examined myself clinically, trying not to think too deeply about the blood. I breathed through my mouth, and was fine.
I washed up as well as I could. Then I hid my dirty, bloody clothes in the bottom of my laundry basket, putting on new jeans and a button-up shirt that I didn't have to pull over my head as carefully as I could. I managed to do this one-handed and keep both garments blood-free.
"Hurry up," Julie called.
"Coming," I shouted back. After making sure I left nothing incriminating behind me, I headed downstairs.
"How do I look?" I asked her.
"Better," she admitted.
"But do I look like I tripped in your garage and hit my head on a hammer?"
"Sure, I guess so."
"Let's go then."
Julie hurried me out the door, and insisted on driving again. We were halfway to the hospital when I realized she was still in her tanktop.
I frowned guiltily. "We should have grabbed you a jacket—do you want mine?"
"That would have given us away," she teased. "Besides, you need your jacket, it wouldn't fit me, and it's not cold."
"Are you kidding?" I shivered and reached out to turn the heat on.
I watched Julie to see if she was playing tough so I wouldn't worry, but she looked comfortable enough. She had one arm over the back of my seat, though I was huddled up to keep warm. I inched closer to her, eager for some of her warmth.
Julie really did look older than seventeen—not quite forty, but maybe older than me. Quil didn't have too much on her in the muscle department, for all that Julie claimed to be a skeleton. The muscles were long and lean, but they were definitely there under the smooth skin.
Julie noticed my scrutiny.
"What?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.
"Nothing. I just hadn't realized before. Did you know, you're sort of beautiful?"
Once the words slipped out, I felt myself blush deep scarlet.
But Julie just rolled her eyes. "You hit your head pretty hard, didn't you?"
"I'm serious."
"Well, then, thanks. Sort of."
I grinned and leaned against her shoulder. "You're sort of welcome.
I had to have seven stitches to close the cut on my forehead. After the sting of the local anesthetic, there was no pain in the procedure. Julie held my hand while Dr. Snow was sewing, and I tried not to think about why that was ironic.
We were at the hospital forever. By the time I was done, I had to drop Julie off at her home and hurry back to cook dinner for Charlie. Charlie seemed to buy my story about falling in Julie's garage. After all, with my track record it was moderately plausible.
That night was strange. I felt a sense of lingering warmth from Julie's presence, but the voice had disturbed me deeply. I had made a decision to move on with my life, to get over her. Maybe because the motorcycles were part of some insane idea to get back at her in a petty way was the reason I heard her voice. I was finally feeling happy, like I was getting better. I wasn't going to let this stop me from living. I knew the nightmares had to end and I'd get over it.
The next Wednesday, before I could get home from the ER, Dr. Gerandy called to warn my father that I might possible have a concussion and advised him to wake me up every two hours through the night to make sure it wasn't serious. Charlie's eyes narrowed suspiciously at my weak explanation about tripping again.
"Maybe you should stay out of the garage altogether, Bella," he suggested that night during dinner.
I panicked, worried that Charlie was about to lay down some kind of edict that would prohibit La Push. I half-wondered if maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing—I'd heard the voice again today. I enjoyed my motorcycle for nearly ten minutes before the voice yelled at me for going too fast and I panicked and hit the brake too abruptly and launched myself into a tree. Julie was shocked by the string of curses I had let out. I would not let the stupid voice ruin things for me.
"This didn't happen in the garage," I protested quickly. "We were hiking, and I tripped over a rock."
"Since when do you hike?" Charlie asked skeptically.
"Working at Newton's was bound to rub off sometime," I pointed out. "Besides, Julie is really athletic. It was bound to have an effect on me."
Charlie glared at me, unconvinced.
"I'll be more careful," I promised, half considering giving up the bikes.
"I don't mind you hiking right there around La Push, but keep close to town, okay?"
"Sure, but how come?"
"Well, we've been getting a lot of wildlife complaints lately. The forestry department is going to check into it, but for the time being…"
"Oh, the big bear," I said with sudden comprehension. "Yeah, some of the hikers coming though Newton's have seen it. Do you think there's really some giant mutated grizzly out there?"
His forehead creased. "There's something. Keep it close to town, okay?"
"Sure, sure," I said quickly. He didn't look completely appeased. But I didn't mind; I was grinning to myself when I realized how much Julie really was rubbing off on me.
"Charlie's starting to suspect something," I sighed to Julie when I picked her up after school Friday.
"Maybe we should cool it with the bikes." She saw my disappointed expression and added, "At least for a week or so. You could stay out of the hospital for a week, right?"
"No, no," I sighed. "You're right. What else can we do?"
She smiled cheerfully. "What ever you want."
I thought about that for a minute—about what I wanted.
I wanted to move on and I wanted to forget. That night in Port Angeles I had made such a fuss about keeping just some of my memories but now that seemed foolish. Why did she still have such a tight grip on me? Why was I hearing her damn voice in my head? This wasn't normal or healthy. I was sure even the worst breakups in the world didn't result in hallucinations of phantom voices. I was pretty sure that was a whole new level of not okay.
I wanted to be happy and I realized with every new day I spent with her that I was happy with Julie. I didn't feel sad around her; I didn't feel that ache of loss or longing anymore. I wanted that—more of that—and I didn't want the voice to interrupt that happiness and send me careening back down the depressed road I'd worked so hard to stray away from.
So what could I do? There had to be some way I could find closure.
The house had been a mistake, certainly. But there had to be something I could do—someplace I could go to find my closure… right? There had to be a way to remove myself from what was real and what was now, to isolate myself with my memories and create my own kind of closure with what little I had.
I could think of one place where maybe—just maybe—I could do that. Once place that I hadn't gone back to. The beautiful meadow I'd only seen once in my life.
The idea had a huge potential for backfiring—it might make everything worse. But I was desperate. I was willing to try anything at this point to get my closure that she'd taken away from me. Maybe I could go to that meadow and say goodbye to her. Besides, I'd already told Charlie I was hiking…
"What are you thinking about so hard?" Julie asked.
"Well…," I began slowly. "I found this place in the forest once—I came across it when I was, um, hiking. A little meadow. I don't know if I could track it down again on my own. It would definitely take a few tries…"
"We could use a compass and a grid pattern," Julie said with confident helpfulness. "Do you know where you started from?"
"Yes, just below the trailhead where the one-ten ends. I was going mostly south, I think."
"Cool. We'll find it." As always, Julie was game for anything I wanted. No matter how strange it was.
So, Saturday afternoon, I tied on my new hiking boots—purchased that morning using my twenty-percent off employee discount for the first time—grabbed my new topographical map of the Olympic Peninsula, and drove to La Push.
We did get started right away; first, Julie sprawled across the living room floor—taking up the whole room—and, for a full twenty minutes, drew a complicated web across the key section of the map while I sat next to her and absentmindedly played with her long, brown hair; braiding and unbraiding it. When Billy asked us what we were up to he didn't seem at all concerned about our proposed hiking trip. I was surprised that Julie had told him where we were going, given the fuss people were making about the bear sightings. I wanted to ask Billy not to say anything about this to Charlie, but I was afraid that making the request would cause the opposite result.
"Maybe we'll see the super bear," Julie joked, eyes on her design.
I glanced at Billy swiftly, fearing a Charlie-style reaction.
But Billy just laughed at his daughter. "Maybe you should take a jar of honey, just in case."
Julie chuckled. "Hope your new boots are fast, Bella. One little jar isn't going to keep a hungry bear occupied for long."
"I only have to be faster than you." I smirked, tossing a braid of her hair in her face.
"Good luck with that!" Julie said, rolling her eyes as she moved her hair out of her face and refolded the map. "Let's go."
"Have fun," Billy rumbled, wheeling himself toward the refrigerator.
Charlie was not a hard person to live with, but it looked to me like Julie had it even easier than I did.
I drove to the very end of the dirt road, stopping near the sign that marked the beginning of the trailhead. It had been a long time since I'd been here, and my stomach reacted nervously. This might be a very bad thing. But it would be worth it if I got my closure.
I got out and looked at the dense wall of green.
"I went this way," I murmured, pointing straight ahead.
"Hmm," Julie muttered.
"What?"
She looked at the direction I'd pointed, then at the clearly marked trail, and back.
"I would have figured you for a trail kind of girl."
"Not me." I smiled bleakly. "I'm a rebel."
She laughed, and then pulled out our map.
"Give me a second." She held the compass in a skilled way, twisting the map around till it angled the way she wanted.
"Okay—first line on the grid. Let's do it."
I could tell I was slowing Julie up, but she didn't complain. I tried not to think about my last trip through this part of the forest, with a very different companion. I immediately felt a surge of anxious panic as we stepped into the trees. Apparently I still wasn't okay with being in the forests. I hoped I wouldn't have another panic attack; I didn't want poor Julie to deal with that.
It wasn't as hard as I would have thought to keep the panic at bay. Being with Julie made me feel safe and protected and she set a vastly different mood.
She whistled cheerfully, an unfamiliar tune, swinging her arms and moving easily through the rough undergrowth. The shadows didn't seem as dark as usual. Not with my personal sun with me.
Julie kept the compass every few minutes, keeping us in a straight line with one of the radiating spokes of her grid. She really looked like she knew what she was doing. I was going to compliment her, but I caught myself. No doubt she'd add another few years to her inflated age.
My mind wandered as I walked, and I grew curious. I hadn't forgotten the conversation we'd had by the sea cliffs—I'd been waiting for her to bring it up again, but it didn't look like that was going to happen.
"Hey… Jules?" I asked hesitantly.
"Yeah?"
"How are things… with Embry? Is he back to normal yet?"
Julie was silent for a minute, still moving forward with long paces. When she was about ten feet ahead, she stopped to wait for me.
"No. He's not back to normal," Julie said when I reached her, her mouth pulling down at the corners. She didn't start walking again. I immediately regretted bringing it up.
"Still with Sam."
"Yup."
She put her arm around my shoulder, and she looked so troubled that I wrapped my arm around her waist and rested my head against her.
"Are they still looking at you funny?" I half-whispered.
Julie stared through the trees. "Sometimes."
"And Billy?"
"As helpful as ever," she said in a sour, angry voice that disturbed me.
"Our couch is always open," I offered.
She laughed, breaking out of the unnatural gloom. "But think of the position that would put Charlie in—when Billy calls the police to report my kidnapping."
I laughed, glad to have Julie back to normal.
"We can hide you under my bed." I teased.
"I'd rather be on your bed." Her eyes grew wide, and she blushed red. "I mean—you can sleep under the bed." She stammered awkwardly.
I couldn't keep myself from laughing, and I hugged her waist. She quickly started walking forward and I followed her, still giggling.
We stopped when Julie said we'd gone six miles, cut west for a short time, and headed back along another line of her grid. Everything looked exactly the same as the way in, and I had a feeling that my silly quest was pretty much doomed. I admitted as much when it started to get darker, the sunless day fading toward a starless night, but Julie was more confident.
"As long as you're sure we're starting from the right place…" She glanced down at me.
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Then we'll find it," she promised, grabbing my hand and pulling me through a mass of ferns. On the other side was my truck. She gestured toward it proudly. "Trust me."
"You're good," I admitted. "Next time we bring flashlights, though."
"We'll save hiking for Sundays from now on. I didn't know you were that slow."
I narrowed my eyes at her and pointedly took my hand back, stomping around to the driver's side while she chuckled at my reaction.
"So you up for another try tomorrow?" she asked, sliding into the passenger seat.
"Sure. Unless you want to go without me so I don't tie you down to my snail's pace."
"I'll survive," she assured me. "If we're hiking again, though, you might want to pick up some moleskin. I bet you can feel those new boots right now."
"A little," I confessed. I felt like I had more blisters than I had space to fit them.
"I hope we see the bear tomorrow. I'm sort of disappointed about that."
"Yeah, me, too," I agreed sarcastically. "Maybe we'll get lucky tomorrow and something will eat us!"
"Bears don't want to eat people. We don't taste that good." She grinned at me in the dark cab. "Of course, you might be an exception. I bet you'd taste good."
"Thanks so much," I said, looking away. She wasn't the first person to tell me that