Chapter Three

Getting Warmer

I woke up feeling more like I had the last few months. It was raining that morning, and that added to my feeling of overall depression. I tried to occupy myself with simple tasks around the house, but by noon I felt like I had to get out for a while.

I got into my truck and started driving, not sure where I was going, until I realized I was just outside of La Push. It was as that point I came to the conclusion that Jake was the reason. I longed for his company and the way he had made me feel yesterday. Things hadn't looked so bleak, while he was there, but I couldn't just pull up and tell him I needed him to make me feel better, so I had to think fast.

Luck would have it, as I pulled up in front of his small, red framed house, that my truck spit and sputtered and died. I smiled to myself and said a quiet prayer of thanks, then got out and walked toward the house.

Before I could reach the door, it was opening and Jake stepped out onto the porch. He was wearing the same reassuring smile that he had on yesterday and I was glad that I hadn't thought this through and that I was now standing just feet away from someone who seemed to understand what I was going through.

"Bella. What brings you down here?"

"Hi Jake. I...I was just....well it's my truck. I think I'm having trouble with it and hoped you could take a look for me?"

"Sure, sure. What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, it spit and sputtered then died."

He held out is hand and I froze for a moment, not sure what to do. I looked at his opened palm. His hand was broad, yet smooth, with no signs of calluses. I hadn't realized that I was holding my breath or even still staring at his hand, until he reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently.

"Bella. I need the keys and I'll pull it around to the garage, so we can take a look at it."

"Oh. Yeah. Here," I said, pulling the keys out of my pocket and placing them in his hand that was now waiting again.

My hand lingered there for a moment and he smiled at me, before wrapping his hand around mine, along with the keys, and pulling me with him as he strode toward the truck.

"I can't believe you've not been taking care of my baby," he said, while laughing.

He let go of my hand when we got the truck and I walked over to the passenger side, opened the door, and slid in. He climbed in under the wheel and cranked the truck. My fingers were crossed that it would make some odd noise at least enough to make him not question my reasons for coming here.

I got lucky, as the truck made the same sound and died. He tried again, reeved the engine and put it in gear, then drove around to the garage, behind his house.

As he pulled into the garage and killed the truck, I caught him staring at the gaping hole in the dash of my truck. It looked like he was working a math problem in his mind for a few minutes, then he turned to me.

"Did you do that? Cause I don't remember the hole, when my dad sold the truck to your dad."

"Yeah. I don't listen to music much anymore."

"Well, we're gonna have to work on that," he said, climbing out of the truck and closing the door behind him.

I wasn't sure if he meant work on the hole in my dash, or work on me not listening to music anymore. He didn't clarify, so I let it go, for now.

The rain had let up for now, but if the clouds were a sign, it would soon be raining again, so I welcomed the sight of the small, makeshift garage shelter.

I got out and he was already opening the hood. He began humming as he took his first look at the engine and I moved to find a spot, out of the way, but where I could still have a good view of what was going on.

Without looking up from the engine, Jake stopped humming and started talking.

"I was hoping I would get to see you again soon, I guess things have a way of working out. Huh?"

He looked up sideways and smiled at me again, and this time I felt my face turn red at his words. It was almost like he had been reading my thoughts.

"Um. Strange," was the only response I could come up with, and I didn't want him to see me blushing, so I moved around the truck and propped my elbows up on the side as I peered into the darkness under the hood, hoping the shadows would help hide my face.

Jake reached for some tools and started moving this and that around, humming again while he searched for the problem. I watched him as he moved, almost gracefully around the engine. He certainly knew what he was doing when it came to motors and he seemed at ease, like he felt right at home under the hood.

He suddenly looked up, caught me watching him, and I jumped, bumping my head on the hood. I stood up and rubbed the tender spot and felt my cheeks aflame again.

"Hey are you okay?" He asked, as he moved over beside me pulling my hand away, so he could feel of my head.

"No bump. Yet. I think you'll live though."

"I know I'll live. It just hurts, that's all," I said, with a huff.

After all it was his fault that I hit my head, if he hadn't caught me looking at him, it wouldn't have happened, I thought.

"So do you want to know what I think?"

What was he going to say? What could he say? I did have truck trouble, it just so happens that it was after I got here. I looked at him, holding my breath.

"It's your fuel line and an air intake hose. They're both busted and need to be replaced. My guess is that they are rotted."

"Oh. Okay. I see," I said, letting out a long sigh of relief.

Jake turned and glanced at the clock on the wall of the small garage then turned back to me.

"I can do a quick repair job on them, then we can drive into Forks. I think the auto parts store stays open until five o'clock on Sunday. They shouldn't cost much and if we get them replaced now, you won't get stranded somewhere."

He was already moving back under the hood of the truck as he finished speaking. He had grabbed a roll of black tape and was steadily wrapping the hoses in need of repair.

I couldn't help notice how white and straight his teeth were, when he held the black tape in his mouth to tear it from the roll. Those teeth were one of the reasons he had such a winning smile.

He wrapped another piece of tape around the last cracked hose and said he needed to go tell his dad where we were going. I looked around the garage while he was gone and thought that he must be a very organized person. All of the tools were neatly placed on the work bench or in various tool boxes. They were all clean and ready to be used again.

He had a pile of red mechanics rags that were folded on the work bench beside the tools. I could tell that he took pride in this small garage and thought that he must be like the king in this little palace.

Jake, bound back through the door of the garage, just as I was surveying things.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Sure."

I was making my way to the driver's door, not realizing that so was he and I bumped into him. I almost fell backward when we collided, and he reached out to grab me, before I went down.

"Sorry. I guess I was thinking I would drive."

"I've got my permit. I do most of the driving for my dad. I can drive, as long as you're with me," he said, winking at me.

"Okay. You can drive then."

I turned and started back toward the passenger side of the truck.

"Besides. I think it's best if I drive, in case something happens with the truck. I think the patching will hold, but I'd feel better if I was driving."

We climbed into the truck, he backed out, and turned toward Forks. As we drove, I tried not to look at him much, but stared out the window at the trees trying to figure out the types and varieties of each as we passed them. He wasn't driving very fast, so I was able to distinguish several pines, live oaks, and even one willow that was near a creek we passed over.

"I bet you're glad you have me around right now? Aren't you?" He asked, startling me not only with the sound of his voice, but the question he had asked. And I didn't know what to say so I just stared at him. He grinned a self-assured grin at me, then continued, "after all it's nice to have a friend whose a mechanic."

"Yes. Yes it is," I replied, not even realizing I had spoken.

Why was I so jumpy around Jake? Why was I reading everything he said to me the wrong way? Maybe I was certifiably nuts. I was beginning to wonder about myself.

We reached the auto part's store, got out and went inside. He knew exactly what to ask for at the counter, and the man went into the back to retrieve the hoses.

Jake leaned against the counter, crossed one leg over the other, then crossed his arms over his chest while we waited. I still couldn't believe how much he had grown since we last saw each other. We didn't have a chance to talk because the man came back quickly with the hoses we needed.

"Okay Jake, the total is $15.58," the man said.

"Oh. I forgot my checkbook. It's in the truck. I'll be right back."

I walked out of the store and to the truck, retrieved my checkbook from the glove compartment, and went back inside. When I opened the front door, I could hear Jake talking to the man behind the counter.

"Not yet anyway," he was saying.

When I got back to the counter, they were both smiling at me and I had a very uneasy feeling that they had been talking about me. I told myself I would dwell on that later, right now I just wanted to pay him and get out of there.

Jake picked up the hoses and we left, with him again climbing into the driver's seat.

"So. Do you come here often? The guy knew your name."

"Yeah. I come here quite a bit when I can't find the parts I need for the Rabbit at the junk yard over in Smithville. I guess you could say I'm a regular," he said as he turned toward me slightly and winked, then let that smile of his spread from ear to ear. I couldn't help but smile in return, his was infectious.

We had only gotten a few blocks, when it started to rain again. I could feel myself slumping in the seat already at the thought of listening to the rain while trying to sleep tonight. Something told me I wouldn't escape the nightmares tonight.

"Hey. Are you hungry or anything?" Jake asked.

"No. I'm not hungry, but I could drink something. I guess."

The next thing I knew, he was pulling into the local drive-in and parking.

"What would you like? It's my treat."

I was glancing at the menu and squinting to see the selections on the sign which hung from the pole outside the drive-in, when I felt his hand on mine.

"Move over here. I won't bite. I promise."

Then he was pulling gently on my hand to move me closer to him, so I could read the menu. He pulled me right up next to him and I could feel the heat from his leg and side against me. He was warm. I wasn't used to being next to someone who was warm, but it felt nice.

"Now. That's better. You should be able to see it from here."

He was right. I could read it much better and I found myself looking at the chocolate milkshake that was pictured on the menu. That sounded good.

"I think I'll have a chocolate milkshake," I said, looking over at him.

We were definitely close. I could see the tiny flecks of brown in his almost black eyes, and his eyebrows that were black and heavy, but not too heavy. He had the faintest hint of beard growth peaking out here and there from his otherwise smooth, dark brown face. His jaw line was strong and his cheek bones were high set, but all together his features were very nice. His hair was jet black, but looked silky, not coarse and he had it tied loosely behind his neck. It wasn't long, probably down to the top of his shoulder blades and I wondered what he would look like with it down and pushed behind his ears.

"Bella. Bella. Hey are you in there?"

I snapped too and realized I was staring right at him, when he got my attention.

"Yes."

"I think I'll have a hamburger, fries, and a milkshake. If you don't mind watching me eat," he grinned.

"No. Not at all. I'm just not very hungry."

So he leaned out the window, placed the order then moved back inside. Now that the necessity for me to see the menu was over, I thought I should move back to the other side of the truck, but it was so nice sharing his warmth.

"So. What were you just thinking about when you were staring at me?"

"Me. Was I staring? Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Busted. He had seen me. I was hoping he hadn't noticed. "I was just wondering about your hair. I guess."

"What about it?"

"I wondered what it looked like down and pushed behind your ears?"

"You want to take it down and see?"

Me. Take it down. Had he read my mind when I said it looked silky? This would be awkward, but I did want to touch it. So, I reached up and pulled the leather string that held it in place, letting it fall freely down around his shoulders. I snuck a feel of a few strands as I pulled my hand away and handed him the leather string.

With his hair down and framing his face with its black tresses, he looked even older than with it pulled back. I didn't even realize I as moving, until I saw my own hand reaching up to his face and pushing the hair behind his ear on the side closest to me.

Had I lost my mind? What was with me? I couldn't believe I was doing this, but on the other hand it seemed natural. We seemed comfortable together.

"What do you think?" I heard him say, as I focused my attention back to his eyes.

"It looks nice down. I mean you look nice. It makes you look. I don't know, older or something."

"Well. In that case, I'll have to wear it down all the time."

"Why?"

"I need to look as old as possible around you," he grinned.

I shook my head and laughed.

"You do not. You already look like you're nineteen, at least."

"Really? Do you think so?" He asked, with a almost excited tone.

"Yes really. You're two feet taller than me and broader than any of the guys I know my age. You're even bigger than Mike Newton, the quarterback at my highschool."

"Let me see," he said, stroking his chin.

"So, if I look nineteen now, how old do you think I'll look when I fix your truck? Do you think that will add any more years to my slate?"

Now I was starting to relax. I knew he was teasing, but it was fun, so I played along.

"Well. It depends on how well you fix it. I mean, I wouldn't want to have to bring it back tomorrow or anything with the same problem."

"Oh, it'll be fixed. That I can guarantee. As for you coming back over tomorrow, it wouldn't be for me to fix these hoses," he said, picking them up from the dash, "but you might want to come over for the next several days, and let me check out the rest of the truck. You know, give it a good tune up."

"Okay. So if the hoses get repaired today, I'll give you a couple of years on me. Then if you give it a tune up. Let me think. Maybe one more year. That would put you at twenty-two, considering you look nineteen now."

This must have made him happy, because he was one big smile, perfect white teeth showing and all. He was just about to comment, when the car hop brought the food. He reached out and took the bag and milkshakes, and the little blonde flashed him a smile and fluttered her eyelashes. I leaned around Jake to retrieve my milkshake and she turned as white as a sheet when she saw me.

He paid her and told her thanks, but he never seemed to notice how she was looking at him. That was strange. I scooted over to give him room to eat, so he spread the paper bag out between us and placed the fries and catchup on the bag. He began eating his hamburger and picked up a couple of fries.

"Come on. Share these with me. Please?"

Share the fries with him. It's strange how such a small thing can mean so much. That is something I'd never been able to do with Ed...him. So without thinking about it any further I took a fry, dipped it in catchup and held it up to Jake. He caught on and picked up one, applied catchup and held it up to mine.

"Here's to growing older," he said, as we let the fries touch.

"Cheers," I added.

I slowly put the fry to my mouth and took a bite. Uh. He'd already touched on three things that were issues before with him and he didn't even know it. First there was the warmth I felt from being next to him, eating with him, and growing older. Three things that he either couldn't offer, or couldn't partake in. It was like Jake was the complete opposite.

We finished eating and Jake jumped out to put the trash in the trash can on the curb. As he closed the door to the truck, a gust of cool moist air filled the cab, and I realized that drinking the milkshake had made me cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to get warm, but it was no use. I was shivering by the time he started to back out of the drive-in.

"Bella. You're freezing."

And with that, he reached over, took one of my hands away from my arms and started gently pulling back in his direction.

"Move over here. I'll get you warm. After all, what are friends for?"

I scooted right back up beside him, just like before, and instantly felt the warmth from his body warming me. He loosely draped his arm around my shoulder and I couldn't help but move a little closer until the shivering stopped.

We rode like that, all the way back to La Push. He seemed perfectly happy to have his arm around me and I was perfectly happy to be warm.