CHAPTER THREE

It didn't take me very long to change my mind about letting it go. The guys beat the subject to death through the lunch break, even after we caught up with the girls in the food hall and I began to wonder what I was doing with a bunch of such narrow-minded bigots. I was relieved when the bell rang to announce the start of afternoon lessons and I could get away from them.

I didn't actually have any classes with Tom and the others, but Jared was in virtually all of them and Jacob and his friends in a few. Right after lunch was geography and all four of them were sitting in the back, Jacob sharing a desk with the curly-haired kid and Jared with the other one with the long hair. The only spare seat was right in front of Jacob and I made my way to it, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. I glanced up just once and found Jared glaring at me. Great.

I slid into the seat and took out my books, the back of my neck prickling as I sensed eyes on me. It was going to be a very long hour. The teacher only made it longer by telling the class my name and announcing that it was my first day, then picking on me twice to answer questions. Luckily I knew the answers, but I had never been so desperate to escape anywhere before in my life. When the bell finally rang again, I shoved my books into my backpack in relief.

"You're a jerk, Paul, I warned you about those guys," Jared's voice said in my ear as he walked past my desk and I sighed heavily.

Apparently my association with Tom had already cost me a friend. I waited until the others had left the room and then got up slowly and followed. I knew I had to do something about putting things right, even if only to assuage my own guilt for standing there in silence while Tom hurt Jacob.

I headed for the lockers to exchange geography books for biology for the last lesson of the day and as I reached the corridor where the lockers were, I noticed Jared and the two guys whose names I didn't know yet head into the toilets, leaving Jacob by himself. He opened his locker and I hesitated for a moment, wanting to go and speak to him, but unsure what to say. An apology certainly wouldn't go amiss. I looked up and down the corridor somewhat furtively, establishing that Tom, Steve and Bobbie were nowhere to be seen, then I headed over to him, stopping a couple of feet away. He was busy sorting something out in the locker and didn't notice me until I spoke.

"Jacob?"

He turned to look at me quickly, his expression wary.

"What?" he asked.

"I just wanted to say sorry." It sounded pretty lame to my ears.

"You didn't do anything." He turned back to his locker, took out a text book and shoved it into his bag, then slammed the door closed.

"Exactly," I said with a grimace. "I should have."

"I guess they're your friends, you've got to stick with them."

"Well, there's some things I'm finding out about them that I'm not liking," I told him.

He didn't reply, but just looked at me. I met his eyes and then found it impossible to look away, even when I wanted to. His eyes were dark brown and they seemed to draw me in, making me want to get closer, to touch him. I bit my lip and tried to pull myself together, but I couldn't help asking him.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, of course I know. I remember your voice. I guess you don't want to be reminded of that, though." He dropped his eyes away from mine.

"I..." I don't know quite what I would have said to him; maybe something along the lines that I would never forget that kiss, but then I saw Tom appear at the end of the corridor and head towards us and I took a step away. "I'm sorry," I said again quietly and turned away from him. He walked off quickly.

"What are you doing talking to him?" Tom asked at once.

"We were hardly talking. You were right about him, I was just telling him to keep the hell away from me," I growled under my breath.

I felt sick with myself as soon as the words were out of my mouth. If I had any balls I would have just told Tom and the others to go fuck themselves, but no, I had to kiss ass like a coward. I wasn't scared of them, but I could think of a few reasons not to piss them off; they were all bigger than me and would no doubt do some damage, Melissa would break up with me if I fought with them, my Dad liked them, which meant he treated me better and the last thing I wanted was another beating from him any time soon. I decided the best thing I could do was keep out of Jacob's way, for his own good as well as mine.

With the first day out of the way, everything seemed to settle down for a while, much to my relief. I carried on dating Melissa and hanging out with the gang. Jacob, Jared and the other two who I learned were called Embry and Quil just kept away from us, but I always suffered through the geography lessons with Jacob sitting right behind me. I longed to talk to him, but I doubted he would want me to and his friends made it pretty clear they wanted nothing to do with me.

I spent as much time as I could with Melissa instead and just as I thought, pretty soon she decided she was going to sleep with me. It was the first Saturday in October and much to my surprise it was the last thing on my mind. Dad got paid on Friday and he went drinking for the first time since we came to La Push. He got in some stupid fight in a bar, came home and hit me in the head, knocking me off my feet. For once there were no visible bruises, but the next morning I was in a lousy mood and I left the house before Dad even crawled out of bed to avoid him going for me again if he felt like it.

I went to the gym which I had been going to regularly for the past few weeks and started off running on the treadmill. I ran for an hour until I was out of breath, trying to shake off my sour mood, but it wasn't working. The guys came in just as I finished and started working on the free weights, so I went to join them. They always liked to have some kind of competition to see who could bench press the most and always teased me for not being anywhere near as strong as them, even though they had about a year's head start on me. They were taking turns at doing five reps of one hundred and fifty pounds, which I didn't have a hope in hell of lifting so I simply watched, my mind drifting.

I had thought my Dad was getting better since we moved here, but the persistent ache in the side of my head told me he was always going to be taking something out on me. I scowled at the floor, considering leaving the gym and going off on my own. I would be lousy company anyway. I wasn't even particularly excited about my planned evening with Melissa and would have rather given it a miss.

"Hell, Paul, what's wrong with you?" Steve asked a moment later.

"Worried you can't compete?" Bobbie grinned. "Ok, we'll be fair - ten reps at a hundred pounds." He began removing one of the weights from the end of the bar and Tom attended to the other end. I didn't look at what they were doing; I would just get it over with and then go and take a shower.

"Here you go." Tom waved me towards the bench and I complied, ignoring the grins on their faces. They always managed to make me feel weak in comparison. I grabbed the bar, not really noticing that Steve and Bobbie both lifted it off its brackets for me.

"Ten, yeah?" I said.

"Yeah. If you can manage it." Bobbie chuckled and the pair stepped away.

I didn't bother taking my time, regardless of whether I might strain something; I just wanted to get it done. My pecs and triceps complained a little as I got to eight, but I finished the last two reps, grinding my teeth, then dropped the bar back into the cradles and sat up.

"Happy?" I grunted, expected some jeering comments.

"Fuck!" Steve gasped. The other two just stared at me in astonishment.

"What?" I got to my feet.

"Been practising in secret?" said Tom with a grin.

"What are you talking about?"

"You just pressed two hundred pounds, man!" Bobbie exclaimed. "It was supposed to be a fucking joke; the minute we let go it was supposed to land on your chest and trap you."

"Bullshit," I said, glancing at the weights on the bar none the less. He was right - there were two fifty pound discs on each end. I had no idea how I had done that; the only explanation, which was still pretty poor was that being pissed off at my Dad gave me superhuman strength. Unlikely.

I shrugged it off, making out I had been practising a little and then left them to take a shower. No one else was in the changing rooms at that moment and I paused in front of one of the mirrors, curious to see if I looked any different. I didn't make a habit of looking at myself except for a brief glance at my face each morning to make sure I didn't have a pimple or anything like that.

"Shit," I muttered to myself now. I hadn't expected myself to look the way I looked at that moment; maybe it was my imagination. I must have just been growing over the past few months and not noticed. My shoulders were broader, my pecs and the muscles in my arms defined without me actually flexing them and I had a six-pack. Where the hell did that come from? I loathed working my abs and I ate too much crap. I unwrapped the towel from my waist and stared at my firm, muscular thighs, grinning now. I guessed I must just be lucky. Melissa was sure going to get a treat later. I began to look forward to seeing her after all.

My mood improved considerably and I went to get dressed, realising the clean t-shirt I had packed, one I hadn't worn in a while, was at least a size too small. The other guys were still working out and I left the gym and wandered around Forks for a while, then took the bus home to kill a few hours and change the t-shirt for a nicer shirt. Might as well make an effort for Melissa since the rest of me was looking so cool all of a sudden.

Dad was still drunk. He must have got out of bed and opened another bottle for breakfast. I managed to escape trouble only by dodging him as he lurched off the couch and tried to grab me.

"Where the hell are you going?" he yelled at me. "Get back in here!"

I slammed the door to the house and walked away quickly, wondering what to do with myself until it was time to go back into town. My mood was ruined again and I headed down to the beach where I spent most of the afternoon, sitting on the rocks where I had kissed Jacob and thinking. I found myself wishing he would turn up so I could talk to him, but the beach was deserted except for a couple of kids with a dog and eventually I left and went to catch the bus to Forks again.

Melissa's parents were out for the evening and she had cooked a meal for us; just something simple, she said, but I barely noticed what it was as I shovelled it down my neck. I wondered what I was doing there, planning to have sex for the first time in my life when I was in one of the worst moods ever. I knew I shouldn't have gone ahead with it, but I just went along with everything until we were in her room lying on her bed, clothes scattered everywhere. She kept kissing and touching me and despite my frame of mind, my dick wasn't about to disappoint. Melissa pulled open the drawer in her bed table and a moment later handed me a condom. I'd never had cause to use one, but I'd practised putting them on after we were given some free ones in sex-ed about a year ago so at least I didn't look as if I had no clue what I was doing.

I didn't really worry too much. Melissa hadn't said so, but I was certain she'd done it before from the way she behaved. I plunged ahead and was then surprised when she yelped in pain and dug her nails into my shoulders as if she meant to rip my skin off. Guessing it was too late by then, I carried on for the couple of minutes it took for me to get off and when I pulled back and discarded the condom I noticed there was blood on it.

"Jesus, Paul, a little finesse wouldn't hurt!" Melissa exclaimed, sitting up and grabbing for her panties. "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm not a mind-reader, Mel, you could have told me you've never done it before!" I snapped. I couldn't help it. I was still pissed. More so actually, because I knew I shouldn't have done it while I was in such a mood and in addition I felt guilty for hurting her.

She glared at me. "Are you calling me a slut?"

"I didn't say that."

"You may as well have. You expected me to have already been with someone."

"Well, I'm sorry, you act like you have," I muttered. I got up and began to get dressed.

"You bastard!" she hissed. "I thought you cared about me."

"I do care about you," I said. "And believe it or not, I never did it before either."

"Oh!" Her eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious. I fooled around with a few people, that's it."

"I thought you had a girlfriend for nearly a year back in Tacoma." Her temper seemed to have been taken over by curiosity and I calmed down a touch.

"Yeah, I did, but she wouldn't sleep with me. Not until she was eighteen, she said."

"You don't seem like the patient type," Melissa commented.

"Well, that's why we split. I cheated," I confessed.

To my surprise, Melissa actually laughed. "I thought you said you never did it though."

"I didn't, but I did plenty of other stuff."

"You know, maybe we should just try this again," she said now. "Maybe not right now, I'm kind of...uncomfortable. But I guess you could show me what 'other stuff' you like doing."

Considering my reluctance to even see her that night to begin with and the rather disastrous sex, things took a surprising turn and Melissa sucked my dick, somewhat tentatively at first and I had to admit she wasn't a patch on Eugene Bentley, but he had obviously had plenty of practise. When I eventually caught the bus home, I was pretty happy about things and even my Dad demanding that I make him some supper when I got in failed to dampen my mood.

However, when I fell into bed and closed my eyes, rather than thinking of Melissa who I had just had sex with, the face that kept coming into my mind was Jacob's. It seemed that I was never going to be able to forget about him and as I lay there it was him that I imagined myself kissing. I could almost feel the soft heat of his mouth on mine, the way his hair felt when I ran my fingers through it, the way he smelled. I pictured myself on the beach with him, holding him close to me, my dick hard and threatening to burst out of my pants. Jacob was hard too; I could feel it against my thigh and I slid my hand down to touch him while my tongue continued to explore his mouth. I grasped my erection and began to jerk myself off slowly, imagining it was his hand on me and when I finished, I realised I'd enjoyed that little fantasy a lot more than I enjoyed actually doing it with my girlfriend.

Somehow I had to have Jacob. Whatever it cost me, I had to get close to him again or I was going to drive myself crazy. Even if all I got was just one more kiss.