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I feel better the next day. Without the Cullens, everything about Forks is so normal. It's honestly very refreshing. Jess also brightens my mood. Then I notice something weird during work.
Two men arguing about a big bear one of them saw in the woods.
"I'm telling you," one man says, "I've seen grizzlies pretty close up in Yellowstone, but they had nothing on this brute."
"Not a chance. Black bears don't get that big. The grizzlies you saw were probably cubs." The second man retaliated.
"Where did you see this?" I interrupt the argument.
"Only a few miles from the trailhead, not up on the mountain." The first man answers, glad that someone was listening to him.
"Hmm. Thanks." I say. This can only mean one thing. Radioactive waste has mutated the bears in this area morphing them into gigantic killing brutes. Or I guess it could be werewolves. But radioactivity seems much more likely.
I decide I should mention it to Charlie. The guys at the police station tell me he's on the Reservation. On the way to the Reserve, I slow the truck down. Sitting on the side of the road are two rusty motorcycles. My eyes breeze over them. Confession time: I've always wanted a motorcycle. Even if they are deathtraps, I can't help it, they're just so badass and cool! All thoughts of radioactive bears disappear from my mind.
I ring the bell of the house. A boy with sandy hair opens it.
"Bella Swan?" He asks. I don't know how he knows my name but whatever.
"Yep. I was wondering how much those bikes out there are?" I ask, jerking my thumb over my shoulder towards the sale display.
"Are you serious?" he demands.
"Of course! Bikes are so rad."
"They don't work."
"Hm. That's a problem. I guess I'll just need to learn mechanics." I say.
"If you really want one, just take it. My mom made my dad move them down to the road so they'd get picked up with the garbage."
"Nice! Thanks so much."
"You want me to help you?" he offers. "They're not light."
"Thanks!" I say, and together we lift the bikes into the trunk of the car. I thank him again, enthusiastically. He nods slowly, another person who's never seen Bella show emotion. With that, I drive home, excited to get started. I borrowed some "Idiot's Guide to Mechanics" books from the library. I'm in the middle of one when I hear the doorbell ring. Much to my surprise, it's Jacob.
"Hi Bella!" he greets me, his smile stretching wide across his face.
"Jacob? Hi."
"I heard you were rebuilding some motorcycles? Need any help with it?" he asks.
"Hm. It would be easier to have someone with experience. Yeah, why not? I put them in the garage." I say, and lead him to the bikes. Jacob is very different from when I last saw him during that bonfire party. He has buffed up. A lot. I'm talking lifting every day. His muscles seem almost too big, like they don't fit his face. But whatever, I've never been someone to judge people based on their looks (at least I try not to be).
"You know what? I have two motorcycles. When we're done, would you want the other one?" I ask.
"Swee-eet." He says. We get to the garage, and he inspects them and determines they're not half bad. And so we make plans to work on them again. I'll have to work extra to get money for the extra parts though. That shouldn't be too bad. I mean, it's not like it's so much money I'd have to steal from my college funds and ruin all my chances of being able to pay to go somewhere worthwhile which could give me opportunities to advance my knowledge and career beyond this little town. That'd be ridiculous.
The days fly by as I struggle to catch Bella up on all the schoolwork, and people she ignored for FOUR MONTHS, by like whatever. And when I have free time I stop by Jacob's and we work on the motorcycles. Nothing much happens, at least nothing would actually be worthwhile for me to tell you and really I'm doing you a favor because who would actually want to listen to all that boring school drama? Exactly.
Finally, Jacob and I finally finish the motorcycles. I'm eager to try it out. Jacob shows me the basic controls, and I'm ready. My stomach is contorting strangely, not from fear, but anticipation. Jacob helps me start the bike.
That's when I hear him.
"This is reckless and childish and idiotic, Bella," his 'velvet' voice fumes. I laugh.
"Did I say something funny?" Jacob asks.
"Haha. No, no. Please continue." I say.
"Bella, this isn't a joke." The voice says, even angrier now. It's just too entertaining. Let's see how far I can push him.
"How do I go faster, Jacob?" I ask.
"Are you ready for that?" Jacob asks.
"You're not." Edward says.
"I'm very ready."
"Alright," Jacob says, and shows me how to go faster. "But I really think you should start out slowly."
"You're probably right." I say, while the bike roars to life. I start inching forward with the clutch. Then something occurs to me.
"Shouldn't I have a helmet?" I ask. Jacob frowns. The voice is silent, but I can tell it's regretting that it didn't think of that first.
"I'll go dig one out from the garage." Jacob says and runs off.
Jacob never told me how to stop. I'll just let the bike slowly come to a stop.
"Bella, why are you still on the bike?!" Edward says, spooking me. My hand instinctively twists and suddenly the bike propels me forward. I scream (and I swear I can almost hear Edward screaming too). The bike pulls up into a wheelie, which is simultaneously horrifying and exhilarating. Edward yells in my ear to stop. He distracts me and the bike is thrown off course. It hits a rock, and I go flying.
My wings unfurl and slow me down (don't try this at home), but not enough to stop me from slamming face first into a tree. I'm lucky I don't get impaled on a branch or anything, but DAAYAMN. It hurts. My wings fold back into hiding under my clothes. They seem to have a mind of their own these days.
It's a good thing they do though because no sooner have my wings disappeared then I hear Jacob's heavy breathing above my head.
"Bella?" Jacob shakes me. "Are you hurt?"
"And that kids, is why you always wear a seatbelt." I slur.
"Did you hit your head?" Jacob asks.
"Unfortunately. But I wouldn't have if not for a certain distracting voice." I say, and point towards my bleeding head.
"I'm taking you to the hospital." He announces and picks me up.
"I'm fine. Trust me." I say. I still have Max's super healing powers. I think. Either way, I'm the protagonist, I can't get hurt unless it progresses the plot. Although it would be best to take a break for today.
So more time passes, blahblahblah. I get a little better at riding the bike, and Edward starts to bother me less. Then Valentine's Day comes along. Ewww. I know. I know. But I suffer through it. I'm just a saint like that.
Anyways, I'm invited to a movie party. I arrive to find that only Jacob and Mike are able to attend. There's some awkward tension here. It might be because Jacob's character is clearly made to replace Edward and what little Mike has of character is only here to create some sort of conflict. Not a very interesting one though.
Jacob drives to the theater, I sit shotgun, and Mike sulks in the back. At one point he leans forward, resting his chin on the shoulder of my seat; his cheek almost touches mine.
"Dude. Personal space." I say. He leans away.
"Doesn't the radio work in this thing?" Mike asks, trying to be relevant.
"Yes," Jacob answers. "But Bella doesn't like music."
"Is that a joke?" I ask. "What kind of soulless person doesn't like music?"
"...you?"
"NO! Turn the tunes up!" I say, and quickly scrowl through the stations. "Ugh I love this song.
"IS THIS THE REAL LIFE? IS THIS JUST FANTASY? CAUGHT IN A LANDSLIDE NO ESCAPE FROM REALITTTTEEEYYY." I sing out.
"Oh look at that, we're at the theater, sorry Bella you can continue your song later." Jacob says. He and Mike jump out of the car. I frown. I guess my singing ability has left since Phantom. Back to my old voice. I can still have fun though.
We buy tickets to a zombie movie. In the first five minutes I start laughing from the stupid specials effects.
"Blood does not look that like." I laugh. I'm shushed by some randos a few rows back.
Both Jacob and Mike claim the armrests on either side of me. How did I get stuck with no armrest? Laaaaame. Worse yet, both their hands rested lightly, palms up, in an unnatural looking position. Whatever makes them comfortable. I try to focus on the movie, but the sexist portrayal of the main female character is killing me.
"Oooh come on," I moan. "No one's skirt just so happens to conveniently tear in a straight line up the thigh and stop right before the hip! That just doesn't happen."
More shushes from the back of the theater. I roll my eyes. Time for some education. I stand up. Mike and Jacob tap my arm to stop me. Clearly they don't know how determined I can be.
"Don't shush me! I'm pointing out inherent flaws with this movie and specifically its portrayal of women. Hey! Don't give me that sass!" I yell at a guy who makes a face at me two rows back. He recoils when I call him out. "That's right. I see you. This is a serious problem with Hollywood these days and it's important that we acknowledge that Hollywood sexualizes every woman in every movie. And worse, they don't even bother to give them character outside of boobs and ass. Women are more than just pretty things to look at. We have personalities and complex motivations and-"
An arm tightly grabs me.
"Ouch, Jacob...Oh." I look up to see it's not Jacob I'm looking at but a security guard.
"Madam, quiet down or leave the theater." He says. His demeanor bothers me, but I can't pinpoint why.
"But I'm imparting important social justice knowledge on these people so that we can improve the conditions of women and minorities that are discriminated against." I explain.
"You can impart your knowledge outside the theater." He says, and it hits me why he bothers me. He's just a little too similar to an Editor for my liking. Therefore, I refuse to let him intimidate me (so much for not judging people on their looks)..
"You'll just have to drag me out then." I say, and defiantly put my hands on my hips.
"My butt really hurts." I say, and rub ice on my butt. "Thanks for the ice."
"No problem," Jacob says.
"Who knew they were actually allowed to forcefully drag you from the theater?" Mike asked.
"Haha. Well I wish whoever knew that would have spoken up sooner." I say. "Sorry for getting us kicked out of the movie."
"It's okay," Mike says.
"It was a crappy movie anyways," Jacob says.
"Yeah," Mike agrees. "Plus I was starting to feel a little queazy."
"Haha. Movie too much for you?" Jacob taunts. Mike pouts.
"Actually Jacob, I noticed your face looked a little flushed." I say. I feel this forehead. "Your head is burning. I think maybe you should go see a doctor."
Jacob looks flustered and upset by this. I'm just trying to look out for him.
"I-I think we should go home." Jacob says.
"You don't want to stop for ice-cream or try to get kicked out of another movie theater? There are so many possibilities!" I say.
"I'm not feeling it." Mike says, looking very green.
"Maybe you have a point." I say, and reluctantly get in the car. The ride back is very awkward, especially because I can tell my singing along with the radio is not making Jacob or Mike feel better.
"Let's maybe turn the radio off for a little while." Jacob says.
"Good idea. I need to work on acapella anyways." I say, and continue. Jacob cringes and Mike audibly moans in pain. I frown. I'll save my singing for later I guess.
"Bye!" I say when I'm dropped off at home. The car rushes away with a quick goodbye of backlash air blowing my hair into my face. "Feel better."
Why do I have a feeling this is a terrible foreshadow of something about to happen?
Probably because it is.