Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Twilight Saga.
I wasn't able to continue my conversations with Edward for the rest of the week, as he was absent everyday. When I had pointed out his prolonged absence to Angela she assumed that his family had gone hiking due to the sunny weather.
This seemed plausible as his family was also absent. I guessed that he had gone to some place without service, as my texts and call went unanswered. I wasn't too worried, as I had homework and dance to keep me more than busy, but I was missing my daily hit of eye candy. For he truly was my drug now, I was addicted to him. I doubted that I possessed any feelings beyond friendship for him, but this was more than just a hot guy who had caught my wicked eye. Our relationship was bizarre, and I loved it! I just wanted it to go a little further…
My distraction on Saturday was manifested in the form of a trip to La Push beach, at the Quillieute Reservation.
I met 8 of my fellow classmates in the early afternoon, and we drove the 15 miles in Mike's suburban, winding down the rarely sunlight road.
The beach was crescent shaped, and full of multi coloured rocks. Occasionally the thousands of stones would elongate and morph into long stretches of sandstone, with tidal pools scattered around.
Our group wandered over to a natural border of stone, and we parked our bags and food there. After a few hours of eating, joking, wading through the water up to the rim of my short yellow shorts, we returned to our bags, and I withdrew a stuffed sock and Ziploc bag out of my tote.
People were gathering around a driftwood fire that Mike was building. The sun was setting and lustrous on the sparkling surface of the water. I was used to this beauty though; apart from being an amazing city, Vancouver was surrounded by the Pacific, the mountains, and hordes of temperate rain forests.
I sat down next to Mike, and picked up the lighter he was using to ignite the fire. From my mysteriously stuffed sock I produced my glass pipe, and carefully tipped some of the weed in the Ziploc into it. Holding the pipe in one hand, with my thumb covering the small whole at the side, I flicked the lighter and held it to the drug, inhaling. Still inhaling, I then slowly removed my thumb, and after a few more long seconds I removed it from my lips. Still swallowing it as much as possible, I passed it to Mike who nearly dropped it in his haste to get a hit.
After we had used up most of what was in the plastic bag, I stowed it carefully back into my larger bag, and walked over to a tidal pool. The others were mostly pot virgins, so they didn't get much of a buzz. I wasn't though, so the familiar tingling sensation ran through my body, and I almost immediately got hungry. I giggled a little as my brain took in my surroundings in a new way.
I sat and watched the undulating sea life for a while, imagining eating my favourite deep fried foods. Once it was dark, I returned to the fire, and saw that some teenagers from the reservation had joined our group.
We were introduced though I, being terrible with names, forgot all of them immediately. Most of the people wanted to walk to some bluffs, but I remained with a few others, feeling lightheaded and hungry.
One of the students from the reservation who looked about my age sauntered over to me then, taking a seat on the log I was occupying. I picked up a bag of chips before turning to him.
"Hey, I'm Jacob Black, you must be Alex Xeno."
"Yeahhh…Hey there, sweety." I drawled, chomping on the sodium filled garbage.
He looked bemused, and tied his long black unfairly shiny hair in a ponytail.
"Sorry," I began, but was soon distracted by a passing moth. A few minutes later I returned to this Jacob who seemed so absorbed by me. "I'm a little hehehe-high. What was your name again?"
"Jacob." He flashed his uneven white teeth, not looking annoyed by my ridicule. "Our parents used to go to college; I think we met when we were like 5."
"Oh right, that's nice." I returned to my chips. I could tell he was trying to pitifully flirt, but I really wanted food, and I wasn't interested in him. At all.
I glanced over at Tyler, who was sitting next to Lauren by the fire. He was pretty fit, I guess, but he had definitely looked better drunk. Lauren caught my staring, her eyes, cold, and her words even more so.
"Alex, didn't anyone think to invite the Cullens? Or at least Edward?" What was up her ass? I had noticed her acting slightly more cold towards me ever since she found out I got with Tyler, but this was unnecessary. I knew she wanted to make me uncomfortable, so I grinned at her and replied easily.
"I was going to, but I didn't have a chance, as he's been away all week – I gave him mono I think." I answered easily, as I noticed both her and Jacob looked slightly shocked.
The oldest of the Quillieute teens walked over – Sam I remember his name was. "The Cullens don't come here."
I frowned at his words; he had delivered them in a way as though they weren't permitted on the property.
Others would probably have been too shy or intimidated by Sam's cool commanding stance, but I was never one to have tact in situations. I loved pushing the boundaries. "Why's that? There's something to be said for eye-candy, I think."
Sam continued looking forward, but eventually his narrowed eyes strayed to me. I giggled, still a little stoned. His expression was hard, and his hands looked as though they were shaking with his suppressed anger. "They do not come here." He repeated menacingly.
I leaned over to Jacob, and whispered loudly. "Odd bloke, that guy, I'm guessing he hasn't gotten laid in a while."
Jacob gave an unsteady laugh, looking worried. I was curious about Sam's reaction to the Cullen's being here, so I did what I do so well.
Leaning forward to give Jacob a view of my chest in my magenta halter top, I placed a playful smile on my face, rested my hand lightly on his thigh, and spoke to him. "Want to go for a walk?"
He nodded, and attempted to stutter an answer. Really. We walked along the clattering stones and onto the sandstone until we encountered a large tidal pool. I sat on the ground, and let my hand skim the top of the water.
"So, what did your friend Sam mean about the Cullen's not coming here?" I casually asked.
"Um…well, they aren't supposed to, really. But we aren't supposed to talk about it, either." He said, tossing lose stones in the water.
I untied my long hair, and shook it out, squeezing my arms together to accentuate my chest as I leaned over with a playful smile. "Won't you tell me? I can keep a secret.'
He bit his lip deliberating, finally seeming to give up. "Okay, it's like a myth, which some of the people – my dad, Sam, et cetera – think is true.
I nodded for him to continue. "Well, apparently the Quilleutes are descendents of wolves – or werewolves."
"Nice." I murmured, feeding a piece of seaweed to an anenami.
"Well these werewolves have one enemy: the cold ones." He tried to make his voice menacing, but failed miserably.
"That's all fine and dandy, but how do the Cullens get worked into this?" I asked impatiently.
He seemed to sense that I wasn't here for his story telling. "Well, the Cullens are the same cold ones that my great-grandfather met, apparently. He was the chief of the tribe then, and he made a treaty with them never to go on our land, and they wouldn't expose them to the white man. Usually the wolves would fight the cold ones, but these ones apparently didn't hunt humans."
I was happy he had summarized it – I just wanted to find out what Edward was. "And what are the cold ones? I'm not exactly familiar with the term." I smiled at him to lighten the mood.
"Vampires." He said, his voice raising the hair on my arms.
"Ah. That's an interesting story Jacob, thanks." I said, standing up.
"Anytime. It looks like your group is heading back; I'll see you around sometime. I think my dad wants to visit your family soon, it's been like a decade."
"True." I said with a laugh, and walked back to my bag.
We piled into Mike's suburban like we had on our way here, but this time my head was full of Edward conspiracies. A vampire! Imagine that…
The following day I waited on the front steps of my house, basking in the dwindling sunshine. I could tell the vitamin D supplying days were numbered, so I sat on the porch with my eyes shut, listening rather than looking for Jessica's approaching car. She, Angela and I had planned a dress shopping evening in Port Angeles for the upcoming dance.
I heard tires crunching the pavement, and a flash of headlights whispered behind my eyelids. I stood up, grabbed my purse and climbed in the car.
The ride to Port Angeles was about an hour long, and was filled with constant babbling – courtesy of Jessica mostly. Mike had asked her to the dance, and they were planning a dinner date before that. I didn't tell her that he had asked me first. Angela was going with Ben, and although I had seen definite chemistry between them, they had both been too shy to plan anything around it.
I already had a dress that I had been planning on wearing, but I would try on things, and hope that something new would catch my eye – not that there was much choice. This was proven correct, as we entered the only dress store blocks from the picturesque boardwalk in the town. There wasn't much selection, and we each found a few items quickly.
I decided on wearing the dress I owned, but I bought a pair of stilettos to go with it. Angela settled on a long pale dress and Jessica with a bright strappy one. They wanted to walk up to the one department store to look for make-up, while I was more inclined to check out the boutiques along the boardwalk, so we decided to meet up at an Italian restaurant in an hour.
I wasn't exactly sure where the boardwalk was, but I knew the vague direction, so I began walking. After a half hour of tricky navigation, I finally found the pier. Most of the shops were closing as it was getting dark, but I looked curiously inside the few remaining ones.
I decided I would have to begin looking for the restaurant as I only knew the cross streets, and not how to get there, and walked back onto the main street. I turned onto a few random streets, completely lost, but not admitting it to myself. I wanted to call Jessica for directions, but realized I had left my phone in my bedroom.
"Fuck." I muttered to myself, and pulled my pleather jacket tighter around my slight frame. It was beginning to get chilly.
A few blocks later into the semi industrial part of town, I noticed the sun had almost set completely behind the horizon, so my shadow became absurdly elongated. If I hadn't been thinking about this, I wouldn't have noticed the other shadows that joined mine. What they were outlining were the figures of four people, quietly tailing my footsteps. I had lived in the city, and knew to keep looking forward, remain weary, but not give them my attention.
I thrust my chin forward, picked up my pace, and straitened my already perfect posture. The shadows also began to speed up, not bothering to remain silent now that they knew I knew of their existence.
At the next crossing lane I aimed to turn, but there was a dead end, so I quickly retraced my steps and headed for the next one. It was too far, my stalkers were only meters away, and so I turned around, flexing my capable biceps.
"Ryan!" I cried, shocked. "You fucking scared me half to death. I thought you guys were stalkers or rapists."
It was Ryan, and three other men, leering at me in the now completely dark alley. None of them appeared to make a greeting; instead they stepped closer to me, glancing excitedly at each other.
I bit my lip, but stood my ground firmly. "What are you doing?" I tried to keep my voice casual, but it sounded more like an accusation.
Ryan finally stood right in front of me, he reeked of alcohol and his eyes were bloodshot in his unshaven face.
"Hey babe." He leered at me, grabbing my shoulders, and shoving me into the wall behind me. My head smacked against the bricks.
"Hey babe." The others imitated him, and strode towards me. I felt like they were stealing my oxygen as well as invading my space.
I was rather confused by the odd greeting, but ignored it, trying to play the ignorant blonde.
"So what's u" –
Ryan cut off my sentence with a rough kiss, smashing my head against the wall again. He let my lips go with the reverberating sound of my head on the building, and busied himself with my neck. I had cried out when my head hit the wall, and the other men took encouragement from that.
One of his cronies approached me, and ripped off my expensive jacket. The light t-shirt I was wearing underneath also ripped at the stomach.
The grueling dance training had not only paid off for looking good in a tutu, I also was exceptional at self defense. I pushed the offensive man off of me, but not before making him suffer a blow under the left side of his jaw.
"Fuck, Ryan, your little bitch is a fighter." The assaulter's eyes were malevolent.
Some abstract part of my mind noticed Ryan begin to lunge at my shoulder with his teeth, while the rest of it was mainly focused on another one of his friends who was advancing on me, and groping his hand up my left thigh.
Using the leg he was feeling up, I shoved my knee in his groin, earning a yelp of pain and a slap in the face.
I gasped at the unsuspected stinging sensation, and punched the man in the nose. Hard; I heard it crack.
The other two guys joined my latest victim, crowding around me, touching me, and hitting me.
"Fuck!" I yelled, the fear taking over. "Ryan, what are you doing? What are they doing?"
I began to lash out violently at all of them. Mostly they would just hit or kick back harder, but occasionally I would hear a cry in pain or curse.
It reminded me of one summer afternoon in Vancouver. I was five at the time, and walking innocently outside I had encountered two neighbour cats attempting to tear apart a monarch butterfly. I had instinctively grabbed the cats, pried opened their mouths, and let the beautiful fluttering insect escape. I had been worried that with the lack of dust on its wings it would be incapacitated, but it had flown off unharmed.
I was the butterfly now. But who would be my savior?
Ryan was trying to undo the complex buckles on my belt. I pulled back my arm, about to punch him, when headlights flew around the corner.
I expected my attackers to be surprised by the new addition, but instead they fought my attempts at an escape, and pinned me even closer to the wall.
They seemed worried that the person or persons in the car would notice they're behaviour sooner or later, so they quickly fought to undo the fly on my jeans, and began to tug at my pants.
We were not alone.
Suddenly Edward was standing behind them, looking dashing and terrifying all at once. He towered over them, his face almost luminous in the dark alley.
"Edward." I tried to grin in relief at him, and felt a wincing sensation in my jaw.
He barely seemed to notice me; his eyes were practically burning holes in the guys' heads.
"Let her go, if you want your heads to be facing the same direction as the rest of your accursed bodies at your funeral." He uttered. His voice was so antagonistic it raised the hair on the back of my exposed neck.
One of them stepped towards him, while the others remained blocking me from his Volvo. "Why should we? Go fuck yourself in the car your daddy bought you, punk."
I didn't see what Edward had done, as it was at an inhuman speed, but suddenly the man was lying face down on the pavement. I couldn't tell if he was breathing.
Ryan and the other two took a hesitant step away from me, and I squirmed out of their circle, and sprinted to the passenger seat in the Volvo. Once in the car I took some long meditative breaths, trying to figure out if I was injured. There was nothing visible, but my body ached all over.
I returned my attention to the sexy demonic figure in front of the windshield, and the others, practically cowering in his shadow. Edward seemed to be having an inward battle; he was completely stationary, except for his hands which kept almost reaching out, then returning to his sides clenched in fists of stone.
His moral side seemed to lose, and he strode forward towards Ryan, his triceps clenched. I saw what he did this time, as I was paying acute attention, but it was still impossibly fast. And powerful. And terrifying. The punch that he threw at the burly football player sent him flying across the street, and he landed in a heap on the ground.
I gasped. This seemed to distract Edward from his other intentions – the other two still conscious attackers. He straitened his back, and slowly turned towards me, his expression unfathomable and terrifying…
