Chapter 4: Try as I Might
Disclaimer: S Meyer owns Twilight.
Bella was exhausted when she got back to her Mom's place. Derek on the other hand, was still fresh as a daisy, darn him. The breakfast table was all set, with an extra plate there for you-know-who, and no, it wasn't Voldemort.
"Derek," Renee entreated sweetly, "Why don't you join us for breakfast? I've got plenty. We'd love to have you, wouldn't we, honey?"
Who's we? Bella thought. Don't I get a say in this?
His jaw rippled, his tongue journeying around the inside of his mouth, while he considered the offer.
Holding her breath, Bella kept praying, Say no, say no—please say no.
"I'd love to," he started to say, glancing at Bella.
She swallowed the groan that was threatening to spew out of her throat.
"But I have to get ready for work." Why, oh why, did he have to work today? He usually enjoyed his work as a lifeguard at Neptune Beach, but not today.
The silent groan immediately transformed into a sigh of relief—a quite audible sigh of relief.
Renee swiftly turned her disapproving eyes on her daughter. It was a miracle that Derek didn't hear it—or at least pretended not to.
Ben and Geri were pulling on the leashes. Derek stepped back from the door. "Well, I guess I better go. I'll see you tomorrow, Bella."
"Sure," she said, before she realized it. Crap! Did she just agree to see him again tomorrow?
His face looked like a kid on Christmas morning. God, why did he have to be so darn cute?
After dinner that night, Bella turned in early. Without her overbearing mother, an eager nineteen year old guy, and two German Shepherds hanging around, her thoughts turned to a lonely boy in La Push, Washington. What was he doing right now? Still tinkering in the garage? Out patrolling with the pack? Eating dinner with Billy? It didn't really matter, she knew in her heart that whatever the activity, his mind was packed to bursting with thoughts of her too. Suddenly she was homesick for Washington, and missing her Jacob.
Renee's computer was in the family room, in view of anybody who walked by, so before hitting the hay, Bella decided to write him a letter—long hand, by snail mail. She actually preferred it that way. It seemed more intimate and personal, seeing someone's handwriting on paper.
She told him how beautiful it was there—so sunny and warm, just like him (she figured he'd like that part). And of course she added how much she missed him. Then she went on to say how she made friends with two dogs and their owner, Derek, and actually jogged on the beach without tripping once. As a final note Bella complained about her mom throwing her at this Derek guy, who really wasn't too terrible, and try as she might, she just couldn't hate him. He would probably turn out to be a good friend. Of course, she told Jacob how much she loved him and couldn't wait to come home. Sealing the envelope, she placed it on the nightstand, and went to sleep when her head made contact with the pillow.
Nothing unusual happened the next day after Bella left. Jacob didn't have to patrol, which meant his mind was chugging along on its one track—the Bella track. It was nerve wracking. At least when he had to patrol, he was surrounded by his pack brothers, and focused on the job. It was distracting in a good way. The only downside was the fact that they now were all aware of this new—ahem—dimension in his relationship with Bella. He couldn't keep it hidden, considering that was all he could think about, when his mind wandered. And when the patrolling was over, on the way back home, it wandered into blissful territory—a lot.
Quil and Embry came around for a while, and Jacob had to put a stop to their teasing him about his escapade the other night. They were cruisin'for a bruisin', so they got the message fast. They shot the breeze while messing around with one of the bikes, which by the way actually didn't require that much attention. It just wasn't the same as having Bella there countering his wisecracks though. Sure, sometimes she wasn't even there. But at least she was at home, and it was comforting knowing that he could be with her in fifteen minutes or so, if he wanted to see her. And let's face it, he always wanted to see her, and hear her, and kiss her, and touch her, and now more than ever—yeah, that too!
Quil slapped Jacob on the back, congratulating him. "I'm happy for you, man," he said. "Maybe a little jealous, but happy for you."
Twirling a wrench around in his hand, Embry commented. "Yeah, it's about freakin' time, too. She won't ever go back to the leech now."
Suddenly, Jacob got very quiet. "That's not what I'm afraid of, guys."
Embry put down the wrench and sat on the garage floor. "Now what? You think too damn much, Jake."
Jacob sat down next to him. "No, I mean suppose she falls for some normal guy? Or decides to stay in Florida? Renee's always tryin' to get her to stay down there."
Quil pulled up a crate. "No way! Bella couldn't stay away from you if she tried. And, hell, there's not a guy on the face of the planet that can compete with you, except maybe for me," he said with a grin. Embry leaned sideways and pushed him off the crate.
Looking up from the floor, Quil glared at his friend, as he dusted off his trousers. "Thanks, Embry," he grumbled. "I was trying to keep these pants clean. They're the only good pair I own."
"Now how did you expect to keep them clean playin' around with a grease gun in Jake's garage?"
"Lay off, I'm not stupid. I didn't have any other pants. They're all dirty."
"Well, then why don't you wash them, Brainiac?"
"Becuz obviously, I'm too busy, hangin' around with you two losers."
"Who you calling losers?" Jacob taunted. He and Embry piled on top of him, playfully wrestling on the dirty floor with the boy in the now filthy clothes.
Right on schedule, Derek was knocking at the door at 7:00 A.M. with a smile as big as the Florida sun. He was minus his escorts this time, and with no leashes, maybe she'd let him hold her hand. At least he could hope.
She was ready this time, waiting for him, all zipped up and cute as a button. How did anyone look so adorable first thing in the morning?
"Hey, c'mon Swan. The sun's out, the air's fresh, and the ocean's calling." He was definitely a morning person. He grabbed her around the waist and yanked her out of the house.
They trotted at a slow pace to the beach. "So, how'd dinner go last night?"
"It was fine. Why?"
Not breaking his rhythm, he answered, "Just curious. No offense, but your mom can't boil an egg to save her life."
"I know, that's why I did the cooking."
"D'arvit—if I had known that, I would've invited myself over to eat with you."
Bella stopped, mid-stride, and looked down at her shoes. "Derek . . ."
Derek was ahead of her by a few paces before he noticed that she had fallen behind. He turned back and glanced at her. Was he being too forward? Did he insult her with that crack about her mom? "What? What did I say?"
She didn't want to hurt his feelings. He was such nice guy. But she had to set him straight. "Did Renee tell you I had a boyfriend back home?"
He sighed in disappointment. "I guess she kind of left that bit of information out. I wondered why you were so standoffish. I thought you were just extremely shy. And here I was making a fool of myself, coming onto you like I have."
"It's okay, Derek. You didn't know. We can still be friends." She gazed up at him, smiling. "You know I tried to hate you. I really did, but you won me over."
Oh, great . . . she didn't hate him. That was one step away from let's be pen pals or swap recipes. So, he was conveniently placed in the friendship box, huh. A guy's still got to try though. She was a girl; she might change her mind. Yeah, right—fat chance.
He didn't feel like running anymore. All his energy just sort of dissipated, so he walked beside her, quietly. Finally, he got up the courage to ask the burning questions. "Does this guy have a name?"
"Oh, right, I guess Renee didn't tell you anything about him, did she? His name's Jacob—Jacob Black. Wait . . . I have a picture of him in my pocket."
Bella reached into her hip pocket and removed a small wallet. Her fingers slipped a photo of Jacob and herself together on his seventeenth birthday from one of the see-through sleeves. "Here, this is Jacob," she touted, as she handed him the picture.
Crap, he was hoping the guy in question would be a nerdy little guy with weak eyes and glasses. What stared him in the face was a tall, robust Native American, with shining black eyes and hair. He looked to be about twenty five or so. Bella looked like a midget next to him.
Derek let out a low whistle. "D'arvit, I wouldn't want to get on his bad side. How tall is he anyway? Do you have to stand on a box to kiss him?" He could imagine her staring into Jacob's belt buckle all day long.
She laughed despite herself. "Don't need to; he's always picking me up in the air. And yeah, he's pretty tall, six feet, five inches. Hopefully, he's stopped growing after seventeen years." Her laughter faded as she remembered the last time she saw him silhouetted in the casement of her bedroom window, looking so despondent—a look that was nearly duplicated on Derek's face right at that moment.
Hold on—did she just say he was only seventeen? A tiny flicker of hope started to burn in his heart. Maybe there was a chance for Derek Miller after all.