Jacob Have I Loved
Chapter 2
It is about noon when we reach the mile-long stretch of First Beach. It is only just a few minutes drive from my parents' house.
"Hey, there's some kids down there already." Sam observes as he kills the van's engine. "Let's go say 'hi.' "
"Ladies first." Jake tells Stephenie, Leah, and me, as he pulls the side door of the van open. I hop out the van and Leah and Steph follow suit behind me. Sam immediately kisses Leah on the cheek as she exits the van and lovingly wraps his arms around her. I wish Jake would do that to me, I think to myself. Looking away, I glance up at the looming clouds overhead and pull the green jacket tighter about my shoulders with my arms.
"They're probably from Forks." Quil calls as he plops his feet on the damp ground. "Yeah, let's show them who owns the place!"
"Be nice, Quil." Jake warns him, winking at me. My heart gleefully leaps into my throat.
"Ok, man, but you know this is our rez they're on." Quil stands up straight and sticks out his burly chest like a rooster, making us all chuckle. He's such a trip sometimes. I think to myself, shaking my head and laughter away.
As we near the visitors' little campsite, several other pale-faced newcomers are pacing up to them as well from the opposite side. Jake automatically perches himself on one of the stones around the campfire, and I take a seat next to him quickly, so that someone else won't.
"Hey, guys, mind if we join you?" Sam kindly asks, sitting down in the circle along with Jake and me.
"Of course." A pimple-faced, black-haired boy obliges, obviously a little intimidated. "I'm Eric Yorkie." And then, he proceeds to introduce all the others who are with him and those that are arriving as well. ". . . and this is Angela and Isabella."
I glance over at Jake, his eyes widen when he spies the girl named Isabella. My eyes immediately shoot her a disgusted glare. Oh, great, the green-eyed monster is rearing her ugly head. Does he think she's pretty or something? What does she have that I don't? She is so ordinarily plain looking, and she seriously needs some fashion advice. But I try to stay calm. Maybe, I misread his expression.
"I'm Sam. This is Quil, Embry, Leah, Jared, Stephenie, Jessica, and Jacob." Sam respectively points to each of us Quileutes as he speaks.
Then, the boy named Mike hands out sandwiches and sodas to those in his little group. Everyone else is talking and chattering amongst themselves as they eat—except Isabella, Jake, and I who stay mostly quiet. I wonder what Jake could be thinking right now. I hope with all my heart and soul that he's not planning opening lines to try out on that Isabella girl. He stares longingly at her the whole time, causing pangs of sheer jealousy to pound wildly in my ears.
Then, Jake abruptly stands up, strolls over to her, and positions himself right beside her on a driftwood log. "You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?"
Invisible, hot fumes are starting to shoot out of my ears.
"Bella." She replies back, seeming uninterested. Good, she must not like him. That's right, chicky, he's already taken. He's too good for you anyway.
But they continue to talk, and Jake is smiling—almost giddy. I try to ignore them, staring blankly out toward James Island. It is to no avail however. I can't keep myself from eavesdropping on their little, pointless conversation, and I am now livid.
"I was so relieved when Charlie bought it . . ." Jake says. Charlie Swan? The police chief in Forks? I know exactly who this girl is now. Jake's dad, Billy, is good friends with her father. Oh, great, how convenient. He would definitely be able to see her again. Billy would probably love that. Man, why didn't I just tell Jake how I felt when I had the chance? He definitely likes this "Bella" girl, and it literally is driving me insane. Talk about having daggers for someone.
I put my hands over my face and mentally weep. I can't do it physically; they would notice and know something's up with me. I nonchalantly look up through my fingers and scan the coastline for Stephenie. I could go for some girl talk right now. I need to blow off some steam, but I don't see her anywhere. Where the hell is she?
"The Cullens don't come here." Sam obligingly interrupts my thoughts. The Cullens—yeah, they definitely don't come near La Push. There are so many bizarre stories about that family going around in town since they moved back to Forks a few years ago. Everyone on the reservation despises the Cullens, but I'm not quite sure why. Their son--Edward or something like that--however is pretty yummy if I do say so myself . . .
OH—MY–GOD! That Bella girl is flirting with him. She's batting her eyes at him, and he's eating it up, grinning from ear to ear. That #$%*!
"Do you want to walk down the beach with me?" HOW DARE SHE? My frustration is almost about to boil over. I can smell a catfight coming on. But instead I cowardly sit there frozen—almost paralyzed—as Jake and her start to walk north down the beach.
For a brief second, I ponder the notion of running after them, grabbing Jake from behind, and pulling his face to mine—making out with him right in front of her. And he wouldn't pull away—he'd grab the sides of my head and kiss me passionately. She would try to pry him off of me, but he'd shove her to the sand and move his hands down to my . . .
"Jess!" Steph's voice wakes me from my fantasy. I almost growl at her in response. "Whoa, sorry, girl! What's got you all pissed?"
"Jake and that girl." I shoot them a nasty glare as they continue down the sand. The phrase, "if looks could kill," doesn't even cover the look I give them.
"Oh, nice kitty." Steph cackles very Wicked-Witch-of-the-West like. "Since when did you care about Jake's love life?"
"I don't." I purposefully lie through my teeth, trying to mask my chagrin. I don't want her to know about my fondness for Jake. Not yet at least.
"Then, why do you look like you want to claw that girl's eyes out?" Steph is clearly amused, taking my right palm into hers. "You like Jake, don't you?"
"No, I don't." I forcibly shoo away her hand and stand up from my rock, but she grabs and tugs my hand back before I can get away.
"Yes, you do. I've seen the way you look at him." Her face is right in front of mine. She is able to see right through me. She always has. I'm like an open book, she's always said.
"I just don't want to see him get hurt." I frown, tears welling up in my brown eyes, glaring at the two of them off in the distance, hating her with every fiber of my being. "That's all."
"Come on, Jess. You can tell me. I'm your BFF, remember?" Steph's dark-brown eyes peer at me with such concern, and that's all it takes. The floodgates open, and I weep for what seems like hours onto her shoulder.
