"So where are we going?"
The roads were icy and slick, with mountains of recently plowed snow lining each side. It had started again in the afternoon, and Bella wasn't entirely sure her old truck was up to the challenge. They'd braved the remote stretch of highway between her house and his, and returned to civilization. The snow reflected the light from passing streetlamps, storefronts, and houses, sparkling as if it had been sprinkled with glitter. She turned onto a street lined with houses, most of them as old as the town itself, and parked along the sidewalk.
"So, it's kind of dumb, but hear me out."
"I'm loving this sales pitch."
She glared at him for a moment before continuing:
"I wanted to go see the Christmas lights. Now, I know Forks is pretty low-key, but I never got to do real Christmas things like this in Arizona," she said, almost childlike. She went on, staring wistfully out the window at the passing flakes.
"Most years we opened presents in shorts. No bonfires or cocoa or snowball fights. It turns out living in the desert kind of sucks."
"Jeez, did the chupacabra deliver your presents, too?" he teased.
"Oh, yeah. His sleigh is pulled by a bunch of coyotes. No milk and cookies, though; we just turn over the trash cans for them so they don't eat our goats." She stared back as him, eyebrows raised, daring him to make another quip.
He laughed, admitting defeat. "Ok, I'm sorry Go ahead."
"Wait, is the chupacabra real? After werewolves and vampires, nothing would surprise me at this point."
"Bella."
"Right. Sorry. Anyways, I really loved how they decorated all the houses I saw on tv, but there wasn't much of that around. So, since tonight's activities are up to me, I want to go see the Christmas lights." She smiled back at him self-consciously.
"You really didn't have lights down there? Or those stupid moving reindeer?"
"My mom tried to be funny one year and put icicle lights on the big saguaro in front of our house." She paused thoughtfully. "But other than that, nope."
She scanned his face, waiting for him to laugh or make a crack about doing something so childish. He did seem a bit amused, but there was something else in his expression that she couldn't make out. Maybe he was actually taking her seriously.
"Wow, well you have seriously been deprived. I hope Forks can live up to your expectations." He opened the passenger door and slid down to the end.
"Shall we?"
It was becoming difficult to stay the shy girl she was before. She wanted to be more mature, more guarded, more practical. The fantasy world she lived in before was gone, and it very nearly killed her. She wanted to believe that she was going to be cool and responsible in front of Jacob, perhaps more for her sake than for his, but she couldn't maintain that facade with him anymore. Before she realized it, everything inside her that was withered and frozen had begun to thaw. Her new fantasies were certainly different, but they felt real. Maybe they would forever remain daydreams, something to get her through all the darkness and uncertainty. But they gave her hope for a peaceful life, stepping back into the sunlight. She was ready to be happy again.
The street lamps cast a faint glow down the street, illuminating the rows of old farmhouses, bungalows, and neatly kept cottages. Wood smoke from a dozen fireplaces drifted up into the air from their weathered brick chimneys as the waning crescent moon looked down from above. Despite the it's size, Forks was just as enthusiastic about the season as anywhere else. Wreaths on doors and garlands hanging from porch railings and picket fences. White lights were the trend in the neighborhood, lining the edges of roofs and spiraling up trees. Those woven into the shrubs peeked out from underneath the layer of snow that had been building up all day. Apart from their laughter and footsteps, the street was almost silent.
"So what's the verdict, Bells? Is this better than a cactus?"
"This is so much better than a cactus. But, I'm still not sold on having to freeze my ass off to get it."
"Well, that's what you have me for, right?" he chuckled. "Just remember that if you stick your bony little icicles on my stomach again I'm revoking your privileges."
"Oh yeah? Well if you revoke my warming privileges, what will I keep you around for?" she teased.
"Well to hear you tell it, the view," he smirked.
She looked away, trying to hide the sudden color in her cheeks. He certainly had her there.
"...Shut up."
Bella tucked her scarf into her coat to combat the cold. He was having a far easier time of it, despite the ridiculously flimsy outfit. No one in their right mind would think that was enough this time of year, no matter how big he was. She could only withstand it a little while longer, but she wasn't ready for the night to end.
A loud crack suddenly rang out, followed by the dull crash of something heavy on metal. Alarmed, Bella immediately grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly as her eyes darted around in search of the source of the noise. The red string lights in her peripheral vision turned to wisps of Victoria's hair, the wind into the sound of her swift steps rapidly approaching. Jacob was on alert as well, but was gazing backwards over his shoulder. Sitting atop the car in front of the previous house was a large branch from the tree above, which had given out under the weight of the snow. He squeezed back.
"It's alright," he whispered, his voice low and soothing.
She looked down to see that she was still gripping his hand. Now doubly flustered from his flirting and the sudden heart attack, she quickly let go.
"What, I can't hold your hand?" he asked, somewhat hurt by the gesture.
"No, sorry, it's not that," she stammered. "I didn't mean to-I just kind of grabbed-I didn't know if-" She was turning pink again.
"You can, you know," he said, gently taking her hand again and putting them in the pocket of his jacket.
His words came as a relief, but she tried to restrain her expression, knowing that his gaze was firmly fixed on her and not avoidable for long. For a moment, he was the Jacob she'd only seen glimpses of before; intense, focused, and self-assured. It made her heart race, and she wasn't sure if it was because it scared her or if it drew her even further in.
"We should probably get inside soon," she said.
"Why don't we go warm up at my place for a while?" he offered. "My dad should be out with Harry Clearwater for a bit after the council meeting."
"Yeah, that sounds good."
There was a palpable tension the entire drive back. Jacob was sitting much closer to her than before, nodding off for a moment here and there. Was this it? Was this the night to confront all the thoughts and feelings that had been swirling ceaselessly inside her skull? She was risking everything they had, all the progress she had made, not knowing if her wounds were fully healed. And yet, she wanted it. She needed it. She couldn't contain it much longer. They were careening into dangerous territory, and she knew that once she was in, there was no coming out.
They stood in the entryway of the little one-story house, stripping off their jackets and shoes which were now damp with melted snow. She took stock of the condition of the living room, which was piled up with old hunting magazines, empty water bottles, and a large can of salted peanuts.
"C'mon," he said hastily as she finished pulling off her boot. "I've got a tv in my room."
The house was pitch black except for the tube tv in the living room, sizzling with static. She'd never spent any time in Jacob's house, except for the bathroom during their garage days. But even shrouded in darkness, she could understand why: it was rather dreary. Charlie's house was a bit shabby, but he had kept it in decent repair and even fixed it up a bit in anticipation of Bella's arrival. A grey recliner loveseat occupied most of their tiny living room. The trash can was nearly overflowing with takeout boxes and diet soda cans. The curtains, as always, were closed.
Jacob's mother had passed several years ago in a car accident around the same time that Billy started using his wheelchair, and it looked like time had stood still since then. Neither of them ever talked about her, and Jared confirmed that even the family rarely spoke of her to each other. It became very clear to Bella why Jacob's sisters had left so quickly after graduation. It wasn't just the harsh realities of life on the reservation; it was the way their mother still haunted the house.
Jacob's room wasn't much better. It was small and narrow, his unmade twin bed pushed into the corner to accommodate a desk and a small dresser. She was certain that it was too short for his new six-foot-something frame, and she couldn't help but imagine his feet hanging off the end. The room was still dotted with relics from his childhood, like the Wolverine poster on the back of his door and a small trophy from some athletic event. A pile of dirty laundry lurked in the far corner.
"Sorry it's such a mess," he said. "I haven't really been in here much lately."
He scurried around the room, tossing socks in the corner and spreading a new blanket over the bed. He switched on the small tv sitting on his desk before planting himself on the bed.
"No worries," she said with a nervous twinge to her voice. "Mine isn't that much better. I've got way more free time, so I've got no excuse but being lazy."
She sat down next to him while he flipped through the channels, conscious of the arm stretched out between the wall and the pillows behind her. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, just inches away from hers. His shoulders were broad and his arms burly. He had always looked strong, but it had definitely gone into overdrive since joining the pack. She'd seen him so many times since then, but she was still noticing something new every time. She readjusted in her seat, bringing herself in closer to rest her head against his chest.
This was it, she thought. If there was ever a time to tell him, it was tonight, but the possibilities that had paralyzed her from the start weren't going away. The worst case scenario was too much to bear, but even the outcome she hoped for was not without its own complications. He was young and reckless, and she knew Victoria would take advantage of that at the first opportunity. It wasn't her lack of faith in him or in the pack, but the ferocity and ruthlessness of vampires with which she was so well acquainted.
But it wasn't just Victoria. It was never just Victoria. A different kind of dread appeared each time her heart fluttered, each time she saw him fighting the impulse to toe the boundaries she had implicitly set. What were those boundaries anyway, she thought. She seemed to set and then step over them with too much frequency to keep track of. Edward had battled his impulses to devour her because of the deadly consequences and his own strong reservations about making her one of his own. In retrospect, not giving in to her childish whims was a blessing, but it was still firmly rooted in his own angst about his inherent monsterhood. Jake was combatting his own impulse to devour her, but out of respect for her. That was what she wanted in the beginning, but now she was ready to tear down the wall.
She gulped, her heart pounding at what felt like a thousand beats a minute. She was surprised he couldn't hear it over the tv. Maybe his super-dog-senses only worked in wolf mode.
She turned to look at him, trying in vain to not to give herself away.
"Jake?" she said softly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear her over the noise. Instead, he turned to meet her gaze, looking back at her with more intensity than she was prepared for.
"I-" she started, her voice wavering.
Despite her almost endless ruminating, she had somehow neglected to rehearse any of this. Should she be working up to this or just get straight to the point? Either way, she was going to need to form some complete sentences.
"I...do you...I mean-"
There was a spark of recognition in his eyes. Before she could even process it, Jacob leaned over and closed the space between them. Her stuttering was suddenly silenced by his mouth on hers, and her mind went completely blank.