Chapter Four
Deer Blood
-o-
For the next two weeks, the days blurred into one; just one long, never-ending day of summer heat and dull pain. Melissa wasn't allowed to go to school until her head healed up and she didn't have to walk around with a bandage. So she spent her time eating popsicles from the freezer and rinsing her hot, swollen feet with the garden hose. Anna found out, and before long had joined her out on the now muddy patch of grass at the back of the house. She wore a tank top and cotton shorts, and a pink sunburn draped over her shoulders like a shawl.
"I ordered a fan," Anna announced, tearing open another lime popsicle. She tucked the wrapper under her thick thigh, so it wouldn't blow away in the wind, where it joined several others. "Knowing my luck, it'll get lost on its way."
Melissa nodded. "Maybe one of those inflatable pools would have been better. We could sit in cold water."
"Good point," she said, "but then why not just go to the beach?"
"Because you don't like swimming anymore," Melissa said.
"I do."
"You never go with me."
"I'm busy working."
Melissa sighed, but didn't say anything else. Her sister was working, that was true, but she also had the freedom to choose when she worked and it just so happened that her work schedule clashed with any outdoors activity Melissa ever wanted to do with her.
"Dad called earlier," she said, biting off a hunk of green ice. "He wants you to work tonight."
She frowned at her. "He won't even let me go to school or those stupid therapy appointments he booked. That clinic's been calling the house because I keep missing sessions." She lowered her voice and leaned towards Anna. "What if they send someone?"
"What, like a therapist who does home visits?"
"No, like… a social worker."
Anna seemed to think about this for a moment. "I'm not sure," she said finally. "But Dad wants you at the shop, so it's probably best if you go."
Melissa nodded. She looked down at her bandaged hand.
"Leave that on."
"And this?" She touched the bandage wrapped around her head.
Wordlessly, Anna reached over and began to unwrap it.
"Do you think I will be good at it?"
"What, the shop? You'll be fine. You haven't been away too long."
"Therapy," she said.
"Oh." Anna paused for a second. "It's not really something you're meant to be good or bad at, Mel."
Melissa nodded. "Yeah. That makes sense, I guess."
"Hey." Anna patted her knee with one hand, rolling up the remainder of the bandage against her own thigh with the other. "I know it's scary, but you only ever have to be brave for a second."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you only have to be brave for the second it takes to walk into the clinic," she said. "Or the second it takes to meet someone new, or to say what you think. The more you do it, the braver you get."
Melissa nodded. Her sister was right. She only ever had to be brave for a second. Just brave for a handful of single seconds, and then she would be good. She would be fixed, better. She would be good, and her dad would love her, and everything would be perfect.
-o-
Westbrook's was as Melissa remembered it. The smell of paper washed over her as she stepped inside. After she had breathed a deep breath, she made a beeline for Jinx.
She had missed him more than anything. The black cat glared at her, upset that she deserted him for so long, looking at her with disgust as Melissa passed her palm gently over his warm back. But he rolled over after little work on her part, showing his soft tummy and little black paws.
"I missed you," she said. "Here, I brought you a treat."
She fished in her pocket and retrieved a few blueberries, carefully wrapped in tissue. She placed them in front of his nose. Jinx sniffed them cautiously, then quickly scarfed them down. He let out a loud cry for more, but Melissa just scratched the top of his head and headed into the backroom.
"Dad?" she called.
He stepped out from behind a row of shelves and smiled at her. "Hey, I thought you could mind the counter for me?"
She nodded, spun around.
"Oh, and Melissa?"
She stopped and turned back.
"I'm proud of you. You did really well on your maths test."
She grinned. He was proud of her! She did something good and he was pleased. He was proud.
"I left the account book out there on the counter, with a stack of receipts. Could you try doing the accounting for me?"
Her smile faltered, but she nodded and turned quickly so he wouldn't notice.
Shit.
Well, it was just basic arithmetic, right? Not calculus. Because if it was calculus, she was absolutely screwed.
Half-panicking, she sat at the counter and reached for the book. Next to it, her father had left a fat stack of receipts held together with a large binder clip. She flipped open the book and glanced over the previous pages.
Okay, this was basic enough. Just addition and subtraction; income and expenditure. Easy. She could do this. She reached for a pen and the stack of receipts.
She could do this.
Though, she would have preferred not to. She would have liked very much to have been sketching things she saw on her walks, though she hadn't been able to take one in some time. She'd have to go for a hike this weekend. She'd bring a sharp pencil and her notebook. Find a squirrel or an interesting plant or something. She would-
"Not drawing today?"
She jolted in her chair, head snapping up to find herself under the attention of none other than Jasper Hale. Jinx, displeased by the sudden intruder in his shop, let out a sharp hiss and scrambled away.
Jasper was dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. His hands were splayed over the edges of the counter, turned outwards as he leant on his palms. The devastating lack of fabric covering his arms allowed her a clear view of the muscles jumping and shifting under his flawless skin as he moved to peer over the counter at the ledger.
Heat rushed to the tips of her ears. She swatted at his wrists. "You'll leave fingerprints."
"That would be unfortunate," he drawled. His eyes flicked down to her hands before returning to her face. "What happened to your hand?"
Uh oh.
"I, um, punched…" Her cheeks burnt even hotter. She looked away from Jasper.
How was she supposed to admit to punching a wall? And how could she explain away the context surrounding it?
"You punched someone?"
She shook her head quickly. "No! No, I um, a… wall."
He raised his eyebrows. "You punched a wall."
"Um, yes."
"Why?"
"It, um…" Melissa scratched her cheek. "It… looked at me… funny?"
His eyes softened. "That poor piece of drywall," he said with a tiny smile. "Didn't even see that right hook coming, huh?"
He was playing along.
He was playing along.
This was far more frightening than any of his interrogative questions could ever be. Melissa swallowed.
"I'm, um… Did you need help with something?"
He nodded, honey blonde curls bouncing just slightly, brushing the pale column of his neck. Melissa's face burnt hotter yet when a vivid image of her lips pressed to that very spot flashed in her mind.
Where did that come from?
She crossed her legs and cleared her throat, convinced she was now the colour of a tomato.
"I'm looking for a book on local flora," he said. "Could you give a recommendation?"
Melissa stood up and gestured for him to follow her. She walked quickly ahead, glad her bright red face was no longer in view. The two weaved through shelves. Melissa tried to calm herself.
"I've noticed you've been skipping maths," he said. "I hope it's not because I made you uncomfortable last time we spoke."
"I, uh-" Quick, quick, think Melissa! "I'm actually just too ashamed to show my face since we got our test results back."
"You didn't do well?"
"That's a gross understatement." She stopped walking and gestured towards a collection of books. "Books on local flora and fauna. Most of them are about Washington, and there are some books on the Pacific Northwest more generally. If you want anything more niche, like Forks specifically, I can look into it for you but I doubt we'll be able to get it delivered anytime soon."
She turned back to look at Jasper, startled when she found that he was standing quite near to her, leaning over to peer at the books on display. With his back angled like this, his face was very close to her own, and she could see just how frighteningly perfect he was. His beauty wasn't an illusion maintained by good lighting and distance. He was just as perfect up close; his skin was smooth, nose gently sloped, jaw strong, his face made up of the carefully considered lines of a sculptor freeing an angel from clay.
And, oddly enough, he smelt… cosy.
He smelt of the cinnamon pie Anna used to make. He smelt of lavender oil dotted on clean, damp temples to help Melissa sleep. He smelt of freshly washed sheets left out to dry in the sun, forgotten all afternoon and picked in after dusk.
"Choose one for me."
"Huh?"
He smiled, and straightened up. "I'd like a recommendation."
Melissa nodded, and slipped a book from the shelf. "This is the most popular book on flowers in Washington."
"Do you like it, though?"
She looked at him.
"Recommend me one you like."
She returned the book, and swapped it with another. The second book was older, from some years ago. A green hardcover book on more general Washington flora, with a little "I am preloved" sticker on the front cover.
"I like this one," she said in a small, uncertain voice.
She wasn't sure why, but she felt like she was baring herself open, giving someone the opportunity to cripple her.
Jasper took the book from her and glanced over it. He read the back, flicked through the first few pages. "Was this yours?"
"Once," she said. She took it from him and opened the book to the first page. There, an inscription stretched over the first blank page, now creamy and yellowing with age: To Lisa Westbrook. "It was my mother's first. She died giving birth to me. Growing up, it was the only thing in the whole house with her name on it."
"I'm sorry," he said. And as he said it, it was almost as if the walls, the floors, the shelves and all the books reached out towards her and gave her the biggest hug possible.
Strange.
"Don't be; I didn't really know her," she said. "I guess it just helped me feel okay about that."
He nodded and didn't say anything more. The two returned to the front of the shop, where Jasper handed over some notes from his wallet. Melissa counted the money, handed him his change, and slid the book over the counter towards him.
"You know, you don't really strike me as the kind of guy who researches local flora for fun."
"I guess a drawing I saw recently sparked my interest." He turned to leave, hesitated, and spun back to look at her. "I could help you, if you like."
"Help?"
"With maths. I'll tutor you."
"You don't need to-"
"Are you truly in a position to refuse? I'm offering to do it for free, as a thank you. For this." He wagged the book held in his hand.
He was right, of course, frustratingly. She wasn't in the position to refuse his offer. But he didn't owe her anything either; he had paid for the book.
But maybe, if he wanted to do something out of the goodness of his heart, and if he wanted to make up some lie about his motivations to make her feel better about accepting his offer, then maybe she should accept it.
For his sake, of course, not hers.
"Okay."
He smiled. "Great."
And it was great because for the low price of her only memory of her mother, Melissa had maybe just a tiny, slim, microscopically small chance of potentially scoring over 80% on her next maths test and escaping almost certain doom. And she had a great chance of pleasing Rita with this piece of gossip when she saw her next.
-o-
Rita didn't like hiking but she thought she looked cute in hiking gear, so she joined Melissa every once in a while on an easy trek. She was careful with the plants, which was more than most beginners could say, making sure not to dirty her expensive boots with the dyed juice of berries or grass or crushed green leaves.
"I'll be back at school next week," Melissa said, testing her footing on a rock before shifting her weight forwards.
Rita followed behind her, mirroring each of her movements, far less experienced. "Why were you gone anyway?"
"I was sick," she said.
"It's not cold."
"You can still get sick when it's warm, Rita."
"I guess." She was quiet for a moment, and then, "It's not because something, you know, happened, right?"
Melissa froze.
Rita bumped against her back, and let out a startled sound. "What the hell?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know, like because of your maths test," she said.
She forced herself to suck in a shaky breath. "You mean, did my dad buy it?"
She snorted a laugh. "No. I've been forging test results since middle school. There's no way he was suspicious."
"Oh." Melissa took another step forward, careful to avoid the crevice cut into the earth by a dried up creek. A twisted ankle was not on the agenda for today.
"I just mean it must have been embarrassing," Rita said. "Especially getting that grade when you sit next to Jasper. He's like a total genius. All of the Cullens are."
"Yeah," she said, shakily. "It didn't feel great."
"Well, failing is normal. Everyone does it sometimes."
"I guess."
"Jasper didn't say anything, did he?"
Melissa's brow scrunched. "What do you mean?"
"You know, like anything mean."
"No, um, he actually offered to tutor me."
A stunned silence. "What?"
Melissa shrugged, and hopped across to the other side of the creek bed. "I said-"
"I heard what you said." Rita's long fingers wrapped around her wrist. She squeezed, and Melissa turned to look across the dried creek at her. "How?"
Rita's dark brown eyes flickered over her face. Her foundation was melting, Melissa noted, and a sheen of sweat swept over the scrap of her chest left exposed by her sweat-wicking purple shirt. She had forgotten to keep a considerate pace.
"How what?"
"How did you get him to do that?" Rita let go of her arm. She looked over the greenery creeping towards the dry creek bed, carved out by sloshing water in the winter. "Maybe I should fail gym."
"What are you talking about?"
But Rita was lost now, muttering under her breath about how Rosalie looked in gym shorts, and how she might offer to help her perfect her tennis racket swing after school.
Melissa shook her head and marched onwards. She turned around every so often to check on Rita, who ambled along the path behind her, lost in her own thoughts. She smiled to herself, happy for her friend. This was the joy of nature. A place to think clearly, with the grass and leaves and birds and bugs. She was happy Rita had stumbled into its safe embrace that afternoon.
And Melissa's own thoughts swirled around and around in her head, languidly, the way one swims laps in the community swimming pool. Each little white tile lining the bottom of the pool was a thought, and Melissa enjoyed counting them, ruminating on them, picking up the ceramic pieces and turning them over and over and over again in her mind.
Rita was right to be surprised. Even Melissa was surprised by Jasper's offer. In all his time in Forks, he wasn't known to have even once made a friend. He spent his time with his adopted parents and siblings, and was rumoured to spend an occasional holiday with some distant cousins interstate. But a friend, someone who wasn't a family member… Melissa could not recall him ever having one.
Although, it wasn't as if they were friends. He was just helping her out, that was all. And he wasn't doing it because he was her friend. He was doing it because he felt her shame, her embarrassment, her sorrow. It was plain on her face that day in class, and that evening at Westbrook's. Jasper Hale was raised to be many things - intelligent, polite, self-isolated, even proud - but he was not cruel.
Before her, the trail grew steeper. They were heading uphill, towards the mountains from which the creek ran. The ground ahead was cracked with dried mud and speckled with pale grey stones. Her eyes flickered over the earth in front of her as she determined the best spot to place her foot. She moved her leg, setting her foot lightly on one of the rocks ahead. Tested her weight. Nothing crumbled. She shifted her weight forwards.
"I thought you said this would be an easy hike," Rita said.
Melissa turned, the orange rope of her braided hair flicking over her shoulder. Rita was at the bottom of the incline, hands on her hips, staring up at her.
"It is?"
She scoffed, and flung an arm out in her direction. "You want to climb a mountain, all the way up to the spring? What, are you thirsty?" She slipped her hiking bag off her back and grabbed a pink water bottle. "Here!"
"We won't go the whole way," she offered. "Just a little further."
"No way. I'm tired and it's hot." She leaned over and massaged her thighs with her fists. Beneath her brown skin, the muscles jumped and wobbled. "My legs hurt."
"Then don't hit them."
She narrowed her eyes. "Whatever. I'll go wait in the car. You can go climb your dumb mountain or whatever."
Rita turned, and carefully started back towards the start of the trail. She wasn't as skilled as Melissa, and failed to choose stable paths. She walked, leaning backwards to counteract gravity and keep herself from slipping and rolling all the way back to the beginning. She would hate to ruin her new waterproof shorts.
Melissa huffed and turned to face the mountain. Well, if Rita wanted to leave her, that suited her just fine. She could climb a little further, find an interesting plant or something to quickly sketch, and then leave. That was why they had come out here anyway: to find something for Rita to photograph, and for Melissa to add to the thick notebook tucked away in her backpack she was eager to fill before she graduated.
College was just around the corner, though Melissa tried not to think about it too much. She worried about leaving Anna and Rita. But she was excited too at the prospect of learning something new and specific. Her mind was set on biology. She wanted to work in nature. She wanted the ease of plants and animals: things that she did not need to work too hard to understand on an emotional level; things that didn't require her to be good, but would easily love her just as much as she adored them, like Jinx.
She continued up the incline, heading up towards the top of the mountain. Below, a sea of green waved up at her, rustling in the wind. She lost her footing only once, but caught herself at the last second, her bruised hand catching the edge of a rock. A large black spider scuttled out from beneath it. Horrified, she yanked her hand back, stood up, and rushed further on. Most of the trek up was an easy, gradual incline for her, but at one point a steep slope forced her to grab onto a nearby tree as she hauled herself up a little further, and onto the smooth and level surface of a little outcropping. She dusted her hands on her knees, and looked out.
The trail didn't continue in this direction - she'd lost it somewhere along the way. Beyond the rock, there was only a sudden drop. Melissa peered at the brambles and leafy plants and rocks crawling over the soil below. In the midst of it all, there was a deer.
The air rushed from her lungs.
Beyond the outcropping, frightened and dark wet eyes met hers. The poor animal let out a heart wrenching cry. Fur clung to its throat, matted with blood. Weakly, it lifted its head, only for a second, before it dropped to the earth with an audible thump.
Shaking hands moved to her mouth. She should help the poor animal, she thought, but all she could do was breathe a quiet and sad gasp at the sight. Turning her head this way and that, she looked around for something that would do that, though she didn't quite know what to look for. All of the predators she knew that inhabited this part of the wilderness would not have left a dying deer like that. It was beyond inhumane. It wasn't even animalistic.
A rustle of leaves. Her head snapped back to the deer.
Gone.
All that was left behind in the squished leaves was a pool of dark blood.
"Shit," she hissed.
She spun. Rushed back towards the trail, hopping down the steep slope she had hauled herself up moments before. Her ankle rolled. A strange and uncomfortable pain radiated from the joint. Not broken. Not sprained, she didn't think. Either way, she had bigger problems. Like whatever the fuck had just snatched that deer and dragged it away, out of sight.
She rushed down the slope carelessly, shoes slipping on dry dirt, little pebbles skittering down the trail. Her breath came out ragged as she ran. Her chest was tight. She could hardly breathe.
Then she was breaking the trees, flowing from the mouth of the trail and out into the parking lot. Rita's car was a welcome sight. She hadn't ditched her. Dancing Queen played, muffled. Rita sang along to it, eyes squeezed shut. She didn't even see Melissa.
Melissa sprinted up to the car. She pounded on the window with her palms.
"Let me- in!" she wheezed. "Let- me in the- fucking- car!"
Rita jumped in her seat, saw her, then hurried to unlock the doors.
Melissa jumped into the car.
"Hey, what the fuck?" Rita yelled over the music. She reached over and turned the volume down low. Then, again, quieter, "What the fuck?"
Melissa's wild eyes darted from Rita to the walking trail and back again. The image of something stalking out of the woods would not leave her. A mountain lion, maybe. A bear. She'd seen videos of them opening car doors.
"Melissa," Rita said.
Chest heaving with laboured breath, she fumbled to flick the locks.
"Melissa, look at me, you crazy bitch." Warm hands slapped her cheeks and grasped her head firmly. Rita was not gentle with her. Rita was rarely gentle with her. "What's wrong?"
"Deer," she gasped out. It was all she could manage, repeating again and again, rasping, "Deer."
"Okay, okay," she said. "Inhaler? Do you have one with you?"
Melissa nodded, wheezing.
"Is it in your bag?"
She nodded again.
Rita snatched it from her and rifled through it, pulling out everything. All the while, she complained about how much useless crap she was carrying, throwing her pencil and her notebook and water bottle to the back of the car. She fished out her inhaler. Melissa took it from her quickly.
It rattled in her hands. They were violently trembling.
"Shit, do you need help?"
Melissa didn't respond, bringing the inhaler to her mouth and pressing down on the trigger. Rita kept glancing at her watch, timing each puff of her inhaler. After a few, Melissa's breathing calmed. Her chest opened, and she was able to suck in air greedily.
"You scared the fuck out of me," Rita said.
Melissa mumbled an apology.
"That's a stupid thing to be sorry for."
She nodded, but her eyes remained trained on the mouth of the walking trail. And as she sat and stared, she couldn't help but think of other mouths. And of teeth. And of claws. And of what kind of animal was out there. What kind of animal had she been so close to, and for how long? Had it been watching her?
But something else troubled Melissa far more than the thought of being watched, or stalked, or bitten. The way that deer disappeared… It was almost as if its predator knew Melissa was a witness. It was almost as if it had waited for her to look away.
It was almost as if it was afraid to be seen.
-o-