Like clockwork, Kim's body jolted awake.
Her heart pounded in her chest so painfully, she could barely breathe. Laying down on her side, she clutched the pillow under her head until the white dots disappeared from her eyes. She didn't have to look at the clock on her bedside table to know it was early that morning: gray light flattened against her bedroom walls, filtering weakly through her sheer curtains.
When her heart finally, painfully, returned to normal, she laid in bed a while longer, assessing her surroundings the way her therapist told her when she was young. Count all of your toes. Count all of your fingers. Feel your chest rise and fall. Feel the air come in and out of your nose. You are here. You are safe.
Deciding to accept her fate, she crawled out of bed, threw her hair into a ponytail and changed into shorts and a hoodie, careful on to let her gaze catch the mirror hanging behind her door. It was almost entirely covered by scarves and jackets and bags so that just a barest sliver of her reflection appeared—but she kept her eyes on the ground, on her hands moving through her drawers. Her vision swam, and she had to hold herself against her dresser to steady herself.
The apartment was quiet; even without checking the parking lot, she knew her mom would still be at work. Maybe if she was fast enough, Kim would be done before she returned, and could avoid any confrontation. She filled the coffee machine, pressing the start button—maybe if she made coffee for her, Mom wouldn't even care. She glanced at the clock—5:22AM.
Running before the rest of the world was awake gave her an oddly freeing feeling. Her gray apartment building was the newest development on the edge of the reservation—right between the forests of the Quileute land and Forks-and stuck out between all the green and brown tones.
By the time she reached the familiar path parallel to the river, the trees were so thick, she couldn't even see it anymore. The sun hadn't woken up yet and Kim was a lone specter flying between the trees, leaping over exposed roots, careful of her footing.
Longing stirred in her chest as she ran the same trails her high school track team would run together around the Rez. She missed the idle chatter between teammates, the footfalls that echoed hers, the songs and chants when morale was low.
The silence of the trail was a cold comfort as her mind wandered, biting into her exposed skin and frosting her nose.
The frigid salt water.
Her feet beat unevenly on the trail, muddy from the overnight rain.
The heavy ocean waves.
Her lungs began to burn.
The sharp rocks that clawed at her hair and clothes.
Her worn tennis shoes slid across the wet rocks.
The warm hands that gripped her shoulders too tightly, hands ignorant of the gashes on her arms-
Suddenly, Kim's entire world shifted and before she realized what was going on, she was falling.
A sharp pain ran up from her ankle to the side of her calf. The cut was so cold and wet that a hiss passed between her teeth, then it was hot. Just before the back of her head could hit the ground, she caught herself on her palms, a shot of pain electrifying her hands and elbows at an odd angle.
"Ow," she said out loud to herself. Well, that's what you get when you distract yourself, Connweller.
There was a nasty scrape on her leg from the rock she tripped on-not quite deep enough to cut, but it looked irritated. It was going to be a nasty bruise. She wiped her muddy hands on the front of her sweatshirt, noticing the tiny red lines on her palms and fingers from scrambling over old roots.
A spark of anger rocked through her as she fisted her aching hands. How stupid could you be?
She'd never tripped or fallen like this before-back when she was fit and in shape. She used to be able to run to school and back, and still practice with the team. Kim had thought that taking a break from track her senior year would keep her focused, but it didn't stop her from running, and now she's like a baby deer. What happened?
Sitting on the cold ground as she caught her breath, she considered the woods around her. The tops of the tall cedar trees shivered in the exposed ocean air that Kim thankfully couldn't feel, thanks to their protection. Her face and body were warm, her forehead already covered in sweat, and she was thankful for the cold breeze that passed over her.
Looking up at the trees, she whispered their Quileute names and thanked them-even if they did try to sabotage her run. The language, while beautiful, sounded clunky on her tongue from years of neglect.
Taking another deep breath, she hoisted herself up, but before she could straighten up, something in the mud caught her eye.
She bent over to look at it more closely, blinking at what at first she thought was just a hole in the dirt. It was large, maybe the size of a rock. What animal could have buried itself there? Had a rock overturned?
It then clicked for her: it was a paw print. A large one, the biggest Kim had ever seen. And it was in the middle of the path, appearing to head south. She took another step closer, extending her hand out before flattening her palm so that her hand pressed into the imprint in the mud, ignoring the sting.
Even with her fingers extended, the paw print was several inches bigger than her hand. A bear? It didn't look like the bear tracks she'd ever seen before.
Running a careful finger along the edge of the track, the still-wet dirt slicked across her skin. It was fresh, maybe even from earlier this morning.
Straightening up, she looked around but didn't see any more tracks, just footprints from other people. They looked fresh, too, so wherever the "bear" was, it must've been chased off.
She paused to consider the footprints. Because that's what they were-formed by feet, not shoes.
Who would be out earlier than me? she wondered. Maybe she could start an early morning running group for fellow insomniacs. She snorted at her own bad joke before beginning her run again.
When she made it back to her apartment building, she could smell the fresh coffee from the stairway. Opening the front door, the first thing she saw was her mother sitting on the recliner with her scrubs still on and a mug cupped in her hands.
"You won't be able to go to sleep now," Kim teased half-heartedly at her mother's stricken expression.
"Jesus, Kim, did you wrestle with pigs this morning?"
Kim looked down at herself-mud on her shoes, her socks, her legs, her hands. She suspected there was even a lump lodged somewhere behind her ear, though she wasn't sure where that came from.
"I fell," she mumbled, kicking off her shoes and leaving them outside the door.
"In a mudslide? Off." Mom reached out with an open hand and Kim rolled her eyes before taking off her clothes.
When she stood in just her sweaty sports bra and underwear, her mom balled up the clothes with a grimace. "Did you run your normal route? You're back later than usual," she asked, throwing it into the laundry basket.
Kim glanced at the clock on the stove.
"Um, no, I slept in a bit later today," Kim lied, pulling her hair out of her ponytail.
Mom raised her eyebrows. "Well, I'm glad. How was it?"
"I saw a massive bear track out behind the apartment buildings."
Her mother furrowed her brows. "Huh. The Littleseas mentioned something about that when I was at the grocery store the other day-huge bears. They suspect they might've found bluebacks since they've gotten so big this year. You could ask Charlie, see if they know anything."
Kim cringed at the thought of talking to her ex, Charlie Littlesea, but this was what happened when you lived on a small reservation and went to a school with less than a hundred people. Just because they were your ex, didn't mean they still weren't family. "Sure."
"Well, I have time to make you some breakfast, if you hurry up and shower-" She held one palm out just as Kim opened her mouth. "I'm your mother, it's my job. And I'm not tired anyways, so I don't mind. Now get your stinky butt in the shower, you smell awful."
Despite the time, Kim took her time in the bathroom, feeling dead on her feet. The adrenaline she woke up with was long gone, and now she regretted going back to sleep when she had the chance. She cracked the door to let out some of the steam as she towel-dried her long black hair, and stood in the light inspecting the scars scattered across her skin.
She supposed she had to be thankful that the worst of them were on her back, where she couldn't see. But the thick red lines along her upper arms and neck were still noticeably angry, as if the accident had happened recently, not five years ago. The ones along her spine had faded some over the years at least.
The familiar ache of sadness and anger threatened to bubble up, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. The nightmares didn't happen every night, but it has been happening more frequently lately. She wondered if it would have been as bad if there wasn't so much evidence still on her skin.
After washing her face and blow drying her hair, she pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. When she went into the kitchen, she was greeted with a bowl of oatmeal and a familiar envelope on the kitchen table.
Kim's stride stuttered at the sight of it, but she continued until she was sitting beside her mom on the kitchen table.
"Thanks for breakfast," she muttered, scooping up a spoonful of oatmeal.
Her mother leaned back in her chair with a raised eyebrow. Despite the wrinkles and narrower features, she and Kim could be mistaken for sisters. However at that moment, she looked very much like her mother-a disapproving frown coupled with furrowed eyebrows "You need to get better at hiding things-although I do have mother's intuition on my side." She sighed, setting her coffee down. "Kim, honey, why didn't you tell me?"
Kim shrugged and took another bite. "Because it doesn't matter. I'm going to Peninsula College."
She touched her elbow. "But, honey, this is amazing, right? I didn't read it because obviously this is your business, but they don't send out thick envelopes to reject you."
"Did you even look at their tuition?" At her mother's silence, Kim looked up and caught her gaze. Her eyes looked...sad. "I can't afford it. And it's in California, so out-of-state tuition is going to be insane. I'm not going to get into debt just to go get some stupid piece of paper."
Her mom sighed deeply. "It's not just a stupid piece of paper-"
"I know, Mom. I know."
She felt slightly guilty for cutting their conversation short, but this was the same one they've had since she started high school. When Kim was younger, she pictured herself at a big university-but good grades and extracurricular activities could only get you so far. Kim only applied because her mother asked, but seeing that envelope shot a spark of anxiety through her.
I guess hiding it in the crap drawer in the kitchen during a fit of panic wasn't really the best decision, she thought as she stirred her oatmeal.
Thankfully, she didn't push it, which Kim was grateful for. The envelope remained between them for another moment before Mom got up, picking it up and sliding it back where she found it.
The clock on the stove blinked-7:45am. School would start in less than fifteen minutes, and even if Kim was already on the road, she knew she'd be late. She internally groaned-she worked until almost midnight last night, only had less than four hours of sleep, but woke up early and would still be late. Again.
"Do you need a note?"
"Yes, please." She finished pulling on her non-muddy socks and shoes as Mom wrote on a loose leaf of paper.
"You can borrow the car," her mom said and handed it to her, "just don't run that through a mudslide, too."
"You don't think it'd be an improvement?" Kim laughed at the look her mom shot her. Scooping the rest of it into her mouth, she finished her bowl and stood. "I'll fill up the tank before I come home. Do we need anything from the store?"
"All I need is a big, cozy bed. But I guess my twin will do." Her mom suppressed another yawn as she dug weakly through her purse. "Actually, go ahead and grab me a pack of Marlboros, too. Keep the change, sweetie. I'll see you later." She handed her the keys and kissed Kim on the cheek before shuffling down the hall, closing the bedroom door behind her.
In her half-hearted rush to school, her thoughts wandered to her mother, to the envelope in the kitchen drawer, to the bear paw print she saw on the trail. She usually tried to run herself into exhaustion, and the late nights working at the restaurant certainly helped, but this morning she was oddly electrified. Because her mind wandered to another exhausted face that she hadn't been drawn toward since middle school, and the idea that she would see him in class again made her heart speed up.
When Kim parked in the student lot, she was the only one in a lot full of empty cars, motorcycles, and bikes. The salty air felt particularly cold closer to the beach, and the heavy winds rolling off the sea made her eyes water. She hurried to the door, her shoes squeaking slightly as she walked briskly through the halls.
Quileute Tribal School was built right on the coast of the reservation, close enough to the beach that you could see boats bobbing in the ocean, their sails whipping against the unforgivable Pacific wind. The school house was small and severely outdated - a "perk" of living on a reservation that received little help from the government.
In her rush, she realized that under her winter coat, she was wearing a cotton T-shirt—her cardigan forgotten somewhere in her laundry basket. She was going to be frozen solid by the end of the day, she was sure of it.
Kim skidded to a stop in front of her first period classroom, the door already closed.
She internally groaned, already rehearsing what to say to Mr. Adams. It didn't help that this was the one class that she just couldn't make herself care about, and it was like he could feel her disinterest. She could just picture his look of disdain.
It wasn't that she hated him, but she really, really disliked him. He was one of many white teachers at Quileute Tribal School that sometimes let their prejudice leak through their voice. It was obvious he felt he was above them, and it grated on her nerves.
"Ms. Connweller, I see that you finally decided to come to class," a white man called from his desk.
She hadn't even passed through the door yet. Her teeth grit together. "Sorry, Mr. Adams."
"Don't say sorry, do better. Do you have a tardy pass?"
She numbly reached for her mom's note and handed it to him. He barely glanced at it. "No, I said, 'do you have a tardy pass?' Understand? This wasn't from the front office, was it?" Kim shook her head, her gaze drawn downwards, avoiding making eye contact with her peers. It felt like there was a spotlight right on her. "I can't accept this, even if it's from a parent or guardian. You're late, and I'm marking you down as late. Take your seat."
Kim nodded—what else was she supposed to do?-as her heart beat in her chest. She caught sight of a few sympathy looks from her classmates. Kim was definitely not alone in her disdain.
As she neared her seat, she slyly slipped her gaze over to the row of desks parallel to hers. The seat next to hers was empty.
At least he wasn't here to witness my crucifixion, she thought, but still felt disappointed at his absence anyways.
Slinging her backpack under her desk, she pulled her coat off and hung it behind her chair. She shivered slightly at how cold it was in the classroom. Lack of heating wasn't unusual, but wearing a bulky winter coat during class would be a bit much. She'd had enough attention on her to last a lifetime.
Pulling out her notebook and textbook, she read the whiteboard: DON'T FORGET! Essay on Lewis and Clark due Monday back from Winter Break.
Ugh, great. Why did he have to be the one teacher to assign homework over break?
The door swung open, once again interrupting Mr. Adams mid-sentence.
At least she wouldn't be the last person there.
Kim sighed silently in relief before the tall figure entered the class. She immediately froze in her seat in surprise when she saw Jared Cameron walk in, his head bent, obscuring his face from the class.
"My ride bailed," he mumbled in place of an apology, so quietly she almost didn't hear him from the front.
"It seems to be one of those mornings," Mr. Adams replied dryly. "Do you have a pass, Mr. Cameron?"
Jared shook his head, and Mr. Adams sighed, clicking his tongue as he wrote on the attendance sheet. "See me after class, please."
Mr. Adams had already resumed teaching as Jared shuffled to his seat. Kim tried to force her body to remain casual but knew she would never be calm around him. No matter how many years had passed, her heart still fluttered any time he was near.
She inspected him carefully out of the corner of her eye.
For years, Jared's hair was one of the longest in their class, and it was still jarring to see his hair so messy and short, just falling past his eyes, even though he's already been back for weeks. When he appeared after a month-long absence with a cropped haircut, Kim's heart sank at the sight.
Even though she still thought he was cute, he didn't look quite like the Jared she used to know. Or who she'd watch during class. They didn't really talk to each other a lot, even when they were on the track team together. When Jared was younger, he would plait his hair into a long braid during class to stay awake, but with all of it gone now, all Jared could do was twirl what was left of his hair with the tip of his finger. She wondered if he remembered that.
Or…maybe she was thinking about it too hard. She was good at that.
"You think about him so much, you could write his biography," her friend, Maya, said one day after track practice junior year. "I mean, seriously, how many pages in your diary do you have dedicated to him again?"
"Oh, whatever." Kim replied, rolling her eyes. "We've barely even talked. I'm not going to embarrass myself right before we graduate."
"You've got to live a little. Listen, either you want to pine after him until you grow old and die full of regret, or you want to get dicked down by a tall, sexy guy who you've had a crush on forever. Which is it?" Kim gasped and shoved her friend, and Maya laughed as she swatted her hands away. "Am I wrong? There's only two ways to go about this: ignore him or go for it. But don't be all 'woe is me' when you refuse to even talk to the guy."
Kim hated to admit it, even to herself, but sometimes Maya was right. Not that she would ever say that to her face.
There was just something that Kim had always liked about Jared. Even when she went long summers without barely seeing him, or when they didn't have a class together, she was just as excited to see him as she would a friend - if that friend barely knew the other existed.
They'd grown up together, in a way, and there were heart-stopping moments when he would talk or joke around with her if she happened to be close by. But for the most part, he ignored her. They were never close, so Kim always knew she never had a chance. It was obvious he wouldn't reciprocate her feelings, and in a way, it was a blessing that Charlie sort of fell in her lap sophomore year. But that didn't mean Kim still wouldn't daydream about him or write about him in her diary.
Maya was the only friend who would sacrifice "study nights" to talk about him. When Kim finally abandoned her diary, after filling up multiple ones over the years with ramblings and random observations, she was relieved that Maya would let her fill their conversations about Jared. Over what he was reading, who he was talking to, who he was dating. Maya didn't shut her down or make her feel stupid, but she did let Kim know when she was a little too cringey. "You're one fatal look away from writing a love poem about him," she'd said.
Now that it was their senior year of high school, her crush was thankfully beginning to cool down. College applications, scholarship letters, and student loans occupied Kim's mind. She couldn't be tied down to some guy on the off chance he would ever be interested in her.
"Ah, damn it," Jared whispered to himself, breaking Kim's train of thoughts.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shuffling around in his empty backpack before he sat up and looked around. She averted her gaze.
"Hey. Uh. Hi, uh…"
Kim wondered who he was talking to. To her surprise, he was facing her direction.
Her fleeting gaze was all the acknowledgment he needed because he started waving at her. "Psst, hey Kim," he whispered awkwardly.
"W-what's up?" she asked, so quietly she was surprised he could hear her.
"Can you give me a pencil? I don't…I mean, I forgot one." He finished it with a soft laugh. Maybe he was embarrassed?
Or…maybe he was laughing because Kim wasn't looking at him. Like a complete weirdo. Was she really this completely socially incompetent? God, she hated it when Maya was right.
Mr. Adams, miraculously, didn't appear to hear him; his back was facing the class as he wrote dates on the board.
Okay. Deep breath. You can do this. And hey, if all goes well, maybe he'll fall so madly in love with me that we'll go away to college together, get married, and adopt ten dogs.
A girl can dream.
She fished a pencil out from her bag, her heart thumping in her chest.
Turning to face him from across the aisle, she bravely looked him in the eyes—his warm, dark brown eyes—and smiled shyly.
"Here!" she squeaked out. "You can keep it! I have plenty!"
Instead of grabbing the pencil, or thanking her, or returning her smile, his grin dropped completely off his face as if he was seeing something he didn't comprehend, his expression a mix of shock and awe. As if he couldn't quite believe she was talking to him.
He blinked slowly, then looked down at her shoes, up her legs and arms, back to her face. His brows slowly pulled together, the look of shock slowly morphing into...something she couldn't place. She felt like a painting in a museum, but instead of it feeling like a compliment, it seemed like he was trying to find the brush strokes. She could feel every inch of his stare.
His normally warm brown eyes were now dark and cloudy, filled with an emotion Kim couldn't help but think looked distraught.
And he wouldn't stop staring at her.
So much for the romanticism Kim fantasized about.
Kim was pretty sure her face was glowing red by the time he blinked and moved back, finally realizing that he was slowly leaning towards her.
A beat, then –
"Are you serious?" he hissed. Several heads around them turned, casting curious glances at him, then to her.
Kim blinked in confusion. And blinked again.
"I-I, um, I-" Her voice cracked. "I'm sorry? Did you, um, not want one…?
A huff of laughter burst through his lips as he shook his head. His gaze caught the students that stared at him, and the release of his gaze from her shouldn't have been the relief it was. Mumbling under his breath to himself, he ran a hand through his shaggy hair, shaking his head."You, uh, you were really going to give me a bloody pencil, huh?" he said, facing his desk.
Kim blinked. What?
She looked down at her hand, which was still clutching her #2 pencil in a death grip. The small cuts on her hand opened and dots of blood streaked across it. "Oh!" She dropped the pencil on the desk with a clack! and looked at the opened scabs on her hand.
"Ms. Connweller, Mr. Cameron, is there something you'd like to share with the class?"
Kim tore her eyes away to see Mr. Adams standing with his arms folded, looking at them over the rim of his glasses. Now every head was turned their way. Kim wanted to climb under the desk.
Jared didn't answer. She looked back over at him, a bolt of surprise running through her at his gaze still fixed on her, completely ignoring Mr. Adams. Some students began whispering now, and she faced the front, her heart pounding.
"I-I have to go to the bathroom," Kim blurted out, her voice sounding far away as she showed him her hand. "I'm bleeding."
She didn't know Mr. Adams could release a sigh so heavy as he shook his head. "Quickly."
At the sound of his voice, Kim quickly scrambled out of her chair and flew to his podium before he'd barely finished writing her a hall pass. By the time it was in her jeans pocket, she was out the door and rushing to the girl's bathroom.
Oh my god?!
She felt like she was going to throw up.
Thankfully, she was alone as the cool water poured over her hands. Far away from wary and questioning eyes. From his eyes. There was no way she would be able to survive another scorching glare from Jared Cameron. Maybe if she went back out there, it would be like it never happened and he'd go back to ignoring her like he had for years.
Was this all in her head? She might manage to convince herself of it if his hard face wasn't still behind her eyes.
Bleeding in front of your crush since childhood was mortally embarrassing, but why would a bloody pencil upset him so much? He was one of the popular kids at school, well known for being funny and easy to talk to.
That is, until he got sick. Her classmates joked about invasion of the body snatchers when he returned bulkier and quieter, and at the time, Kim rolled her eyes at the gossip. But were they wrong? When had he been friends with Sam Uhley or Paul Lahote? And when had Jared ever looked at anyone that intensely before, least of all her?
They've been in the same class since preschool. Their moms used to pack snacks together for the track team's competitions. They've talked before. They were even school project partners. It wasn't like he didn't know her.
At the thought of his mom, Kim's heart ached in a new way. Ever since Jared's mom died last year, he became more reserved and solemn. Is that why he's so intense?
Whatever the reason, she resolved to apologize for almost giving him a gross pencil and try to move on. She patted her hands with a paper towel and dabbed her warm face. She could do this.
Kim anticipated the stares when she came back. She didn't dare look up from the floor as she quickly walked back to her seat; his was the only gaze she was hyper aware of.
"I'd like everyone to turn their attention back to the board," Mr. Adams said in a bored tone. "Now, on page 210, there is a map of early 18th century America..."
At Mr. Adams's voice, Kim's eyes fell back to her open textbook and stared pointedly down at the page.
A wave of chills prickled across her skin despite her sweaty armpits, and she shivered and swept her hair over her shoulder to shield her face from his eyes.
The minutes ticked by slowly. Kim was never one to watch the clock, but she became so paranoid, it felt like every whisper or laugh was directed at her. On a normal day, she would sneak glances over at Jared, and hope that she'd be on the receiving end of one of his smiles. Now she couldn't even stay focused long enough to understand a single word Mr. Adams was saying. She was thankful he didn't call on anyone.
But those eyes. She could feel him looking at her, and she couldn't bring herself to return his gaze, not with everyone there. Instead of the one watching, she was the one being watched, and it made her insides buzz.
And then, just as the bell rang, Kim grabbed her coat and backpack, ready to bolt out the door without looking back, when a voice stopped her.
"Ms. Connweller, will you also wait after class?"
Part of her wanted to just say screw it and leave, but the more responsible side of her forced her legs to stop. As she watched the rest of the class empty out the door, a few shot another glance at them - at Jared in particular.
Kim couldn't bring herself to look over at him, but she could see his tall form from the corner of her eye, making the desks beside him look like they were for toddlers. Was he really 6 feet tall now?
"Oh, I-I don't want to keep your next class, um, waiting," Kim said, gripping the straps of her backpack as if her life depended on it.
"I have a free period," her teacher replied wryly. "Though, I appreciate the thought."
She pressed her lips together and hesitated by her desk before slowly walking up front. She couldn't hear Jared following her, but she didn't dare look to check.
Mr. Adams crossed his arms and leaned against the chalkboard. "Kim, I've got to say, I'm disappointed. I would have thought you took school a bit more seriously than some of your other peers."
Kim's ears burned, because, really, how many days has she actually been late this semester? Four? Five? "I'm sorry, Mr. Adams," she mumbled.
He inspected her over the rim of his glasses. "You're on the track team, correct?"
She shook her head. She was painfully aware of Jared just out of her field of vision. "Not anymore. I quit this year to focus on school. I've just been working a lot of late nights, um, at my job," she said in a rush before Mr. Adams could interrupt, feeling her entire face burn under his scrutiny.
Mr. Adams snorted and shook his head. "Well, I would take your own advice then. Focus on school. Senior year isn't the time to screw around. I thought you knew that."
Kim nodded silently.
He looked over her shoulder. "The same goes for you, Cameron. While I don't expect as much out of you as I do my A-students, you're pushing it, son."
Son. Kim grimaced at the implication.
"I also work late." Jared's deep voice made her jump. He was much closer than she thought.
Risking a peak over her shoulder, Jared stood just a step away from her, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Damn, he was tall - she couldn't even look up to see his face without making it super obvious, but based on his tone, she could take a guess. She looked down again.
Mr. Adams looked at Jared as if he didn't quite believe him.
"What is it with kids working these days?" Mr. Adams said like he was talking to himself. "While I admire your...work ethic, most of you people won't get more than a highschool diploma. Don't become a statistic. Work on school first before you bite off more than you can chew."
It was so quiet, the only thing Kim could hear was the heat rushing through the school vents.
The silence from her and Jared should have given him a clue, but Mr. Adams didn't seem to notice or care. His set jaw and curled lips almost looked as if he was waiting for a retort, daring them.
Kim wanted to speak up, but she'd seen others go down this road before and knew what she wanted to say wouldn't matter. Complaints from parents and other Quileute teachers didn't seem to matter to a majority-white school board. Mr. Adams was a known bigot though was rarely so explicit-seems he doesn't care when his audience is composed of the quiet girl and the disruptive skipper.
The classroom phone rang, cutting into the awkward silence. Mr. Adams sighed heavily before reaching over to pick it up. "Yes?"
As he listened, Kim twisted the drawstring on her coat around her finger, mindful of the cuts.
She made sure to lean her body away from Jared and keep her eyes trained on the floor. She wondered what Jared was thinking-if it was anything like her, she could guess that he was probably just as pissed. Even though she wasn't looking at him, she still felt so aware of him. As if her other senses were tuned into his presence. So freaking weird.
Mr. Adams sighed again, loudly. "Okay, one second." Pressing the receiver against his chest, he turned back to face them. "I have to run to the office to pick something up. I'm going to leave you two here alone while I go to the office—do not leave until I've finished speaking with you." Even though it was directed at both of them, he looked pointedly at Jared.
Alone?
"I'm going to be late for my next class," Jared hissed between clenched teeth.
"Then I'll write you a slip," Mr. Adams snapped back unkindly, his eyes flashing. Pressing the phone back against his ear he barked a quick, "Be right there."
Jeez, was he nice to anyone here?
He made a point to log out of his computer and grab his attendance sheet. Kim couldn't help but gawk at his retreating figure. He's really treating us like we're deliquits!
As soon as Mr. Adams walked out the door - making sure to leave it wide open - Kim felt her heart clutch in her chest.
Looking up at the clock on the wall, she saw the minute hand run across the numbers.
Brrrt! The final bell.
Second period began, and Kim was stuck in a classroom alone with Jared Cameron. She took a deep breath in.
Kim had only been alone with Jared a handful of times, not that any of them were particularly memorable. Well, at least they wouldn't have been memorable to him.
Once when they were at a high school basketball game and she happened to stand behind him in the concessions line waiting to buy a pretzel. (He didn't bother to even look at her, but still.) Another time when they were early to board the bus to a track meet and claimed two seats in the back that were directly across from each other without saying a word. (She'd blamed it on the fact that it was 6 AM, and who would want to talk that early anyways?) And another when they were partnered off in gym class freshman year. (He'd barely even spoken to her but did do the grunt work, which she told herself he did to be kind.) And of course, when they were partners last year in science class and shared a microscope. (It was also the longest conversation they'd ever had together, even if it was about cells.)
But despite the tiny school and the tiny reservation, Jared never went out of his way to talk to Kim. Most, if not all, of their interactions were initiated by her. That is, of course, until today.
"What a fucking asshole."
Surprised at the outburst, she turned to look at him over her shoulder.
Jared's face twisted into a sneer. He glared at the door as if daring Mr. Adams to cross back into the classroom.
Kim nodded once, unsure if he wanted a response.
Standing next to her, he really did look like a giant. He'd always been tall, but it seemed like someone had put his head on a different body. He stood slightly hunched over, his shoulders sagging and his arms crossed. He wore a plain black shirt and jeans. She tried not to stare at his strong forearms for too long.
The longer she looked, the tighter he hugged his arms to his chest. She suddenly realized he was shaking slightly, a tremor that ran just under his skin. Was he cold?
When she dared to glance back up to his face, he was looking at her again. His eyes were dark.
She quickly looked away.
This was so awkward—so, so painfully awkward. What could she even do? She was trapped. Her romantic day dream had become a nightmare.
"I wonder if he even likes being, uh, a teacher, you know?" Kim said to the floor. "Why even bother teaching in high school if you hate the students so much?"
Jared was silent for a moment, but before Kim could worry if she'd said too much, he mumbled in return, "It's probably because of that god complex he has shoved up his racist ass."
A burst of laughter left her lips at his crude joke. "Right?"
This was the Jared she was used to—the one who would joke in class, to say almost anything to get a laugh.
"Aren't you cold?"
She frowned before realizing she was still wearing her T-shirt, her coat draped over her arms. Wasn't he shivering just a moment ago?
"I have a coat," she mumbled.
"Hmmm," he hummed. "And your hands? What happened?"
She tightened her grip on her coat. "I tripped."
She could feel him shift his weight. How could she be so attuned to him? If she concentrated hard enough, she could catch the faintest whiff of the detergent on his clothes. Has she ever been this aware of him in her entire life?
He was quiet for so long that Kim thought he'd leave it at that, when he said, "and you fell on, what, a pile of glass?"
"Roots. And rocks. I dunno." She debated on how much to tell him. He seemed more relaxed-no, relaxed was definitely not the right word. He was interested. Intrigued. "I went out running this morning and wasn't paying attention, and I fell."
"Hm," Jared murmured softly. "You still runnin' at the ass crack of dawn?"
Kim's eyes shot over to him. He remembered? " Sometimes before school, yeah."
He was caught between a smile and a grimace, and Kim wasn't sure which one he was closer to. He settled for a frown. "It's not safe to be out by yourself like that."
She watched him lean against Mr. Adams's desk, and she glanced at the classroom door as if he would magically reappear.
"I'm just running on the reservation," she mumbled.
"And you quit the team this year?" he asked, cocking his head. His eyes were now marginally softer, but it still held her captive.
She nodded.
"Hm," Jared grunted out. She wanted to lift her eyes to see the expression on his face, but couldn't bring herself to. "You're quiet."
Kim blinked. "Yeah, I guess."
This pause was somehow even worse.
"Why?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Why am I quiet…?"
"Why did you quit?" He uncrossed his arms and leaned back on Mr. Adams's desk, clutching the edge. His shoulders were hunched over.
She swallowed, fighting to keep her eyes on his and not on his taught, coiled body. She barely thought through her words when she said, "Why did you?"
A huff of air left this nose in place of a laugh, and he raised his eyebrows. "Obligations."
"Oh." His eyes danced across her face as she twisted her bottom lip between her teeth. "Like...a job?"
"I work for Sam Uley."
It felt like a blow to the stomach. Kim couldn't keep her face in check. She hadn't heard that name outside high school gossip; it was weird to hear the rumors so explicitly proven right to her. And Jared didn't hide his own smirk at her expression. But, he didn't look happy-he mostly looked...grim. Somber. As if he'd expected that reaction.
"What do you guys do?" she asked hesitantly. "You said you work late nights?
She bit back all the questions she really wanted to ask him, like How is Sam? Is he really as bad as they say? Are you becoming bad, too?
Not that it mattered, because Kim could see him close himself off at her questions. He now remained completely silent.
His face, however, said much more. But whatever he was trying to communicate to her was indecipherable.
Kim took a deep breath in.
"Are you—um, feeling okay?" Smooth, Connweller. "I mean, you looked kind of upset. Before. I was just wondering if...everything was okay?"
His mouth set in a thin line, his face nearly completely stoic. "Why would I tell you?"
"W-w-well, I—" She swallowed thickly at his intense stare. "I don't know, you just kind of—um, haven't been acting like yourself...lately. I know you're going through a lot right now. I just wanted to make sure you were okay…?"
The longer she blabbered on, the darker his eyes seemed to turn. His nose flared. She finally snapped her mouth shut.
"Aren't you just a sweetheart?" he finally sneered with disdain.
She blinked in surprise at the acidity in his tone.
He was still staring at her, but for once she didn't freeze or blush. He didn't look angry at her, he looked…bothered. Like he had something he wanted to say, but was swallowing it down and it tasted sour.
He pushed himself off the desk, and for a wild moment, Kim thought he was going to reach for her, or-or kiss her?-but he stepped quickly off to the side to where his backpack was on a student desk, her eyes wide as she stared at his back.
She turned back to the door when she heard footsteps advancing back to the classroom.
"—Don't listen to anyone who tries to convince you to become a teacher, it's all administrative bull," Mr. Adams rambled, fuming as he marched into the classroom. "I'll keep this short. Cameron, you've just made yourself my guest of honor. Every morning for the next week, I want you here an hour early, sitting at your desk while you write your Lewis and Clark essay, and finish it. And I'll be sure to assign you another replacement essay for winter break. And Connweller—if you're late one more time this school year, you'll be getting the same, capiche?"
Kim nodded mutely as Jared fumed beside her, his hands balled into fists at his side.
Mr. Adams left them in a moment of suspense before waving them off. "Go."
"Back up. He called you a sweetheart?"
Maya Ismail thankfully picked a table in the furthest corner of the cafeteria so they'd have some privacy. Kim left her lunch box at home in her rush this morning, and Maya offered to share hers, but she couldn't stomach food. Just the thought that she was in the same building as Jared Cameron made her antsy, and became vigilant of every student who walked into the cafeteria.
After the first period, the day dragged on and Kim felt like she was going to explode if she didn't talk to her best friend. Rehashing the drama from this morning was therapeutic. It made her feel less crazy.
"Yes—and he was not flirting with me. Believe me."
Maya tapped her chin with a Twizzler. Her short, curly black hair was barely held back by a scrunchie. There was a strand of hair curled on her forehead. "Okay, but like, how did he say it?"
She chewed on her lip. "Uh, I don't know, like I was the most annoying person ever?" It was obvious Maya was ignoring why he'd called Kim a sweetheart-Sam Uley. Not that Kim should be surprised. Maya hated talking about him, especially now that he'd become a hot topic to gossip about.
But didn't her conversation with Jared prove exactly that? That there was something more to it?
"Maybe he was just really surprised you could talk?"
Kim rolled her eyes. "I have talked to him before. He's just..." She bit her lip and shrugged. "It was just really weird for him to act like that."
"Maybe he knows you have a thing for him and didn't want your cooties."
"You are so annoying."
"You love me. Or—I know! What if he knows that you write about him in your diary?"
"I don't even have a diary anymore," she said, blushing.
Maya bit into her sandwich, talking with her mouth full. "I hate to break it to you, but he probably didn't even notice he was being a jerk."
"I didn't say he was a jerk exactly," Kim blew her bangs out of her face. "He's...It's complicated."
"Speaking of," Maya said, pointedly looking over Kim's shoulder.
She turned in time to see Jared walking in the cafeteria.
Flaked beside Paul Lahote, the duo looked like twins. While Paul was large and bulky, Jared was tall and lean. Kim had always liked that about him. Even though he had certainly bulked up recently, it looked good on him.
The two boys sat at a table by the door and opened their lunches, talking quietly to one another and keeping their heads down. Kim was both disappointed and relieved to see that Jared hadn't noticed her.
"I didn't think they were friends," Kim said. She couldn't imagine many people like being around a hothead like Paul, least of all Jared. She turned back around to face Maya, who was still staring at them. "Hey, are you even paying attention to me?"
"Hm?" Maya fluttered her eyelashes at them. "Sorry, I didn't hear you over the sound of their massive biceps."
She put her chin on her hand. "Maybe I just caught him in a bad mood. He looks normal now. He probably doesn't even remember it."
"You don't have to convince me," Maya said with a shrug.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean…" Maya chewed. "You don't have to like…y'know, defend him. He was a jerk. That's all there is to it."
"I told you, it's complicated. And I don't defend him."
Maya raised her eyebrows knowingly. "And it wouldn't hurt for you to grow a backbone, either. Don't let him walk all over you just because you're, like, in love with him – "
"Jesus, Maya! Not so loud!" Kim hissed. "Maybe you should just announce it to the whole school, next?!"
Maya laughed. "As if the whole school doesn't already know – "
"What's up, Connweller?!"
Kim nearly jumped out of her chair before she recognized whose voice it was.
Charlie Littlesea stood next to them, looking down at her with a big smile.
"Oh, hey, what's up?" Kim greeted. She prayed he hadn't heard anything.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Hope I'm not interrupting anything." He smiled as he pulled out a chair to sit next to her. He was a little too close for comfort, but Kim avoided scooting further away. "A few of us are going to the beach next Friday. You game?"
"When it's this cold out?" Kim said with a nervous laugh. "Thanks, but I want to keep all ten of my toes." She ignored the look Maya gave her.
Not at all discouraged, Charlie's smile widened. "Oh, c'mon! We're having a bonfire! Just bring a chair and a blanket, and you're good to go."
"Don't you need a permit to do that?" Maya asked around a mouthful of food, and Charlie groaned at her. "What, I'm serious!"
"Since when do you care about legalities?"
Maya scoffed.
"I mean seriously - fuck the law! It's our beach," he said with a loud laugh. Kim grimaced. He elbowed her lightly. "You're off that night, right?"
Kim nodded slowly. She considered lying, but it wasn't worth it. The chance of Charlie visiting her at the restaurant was too great, and she hated lying.
"So, what's the hold up then-you guys coming? It's the last one before winter break. We should go out before it starts snowing."
"Who all is going?" Maya asked suspiciously.
There was a beat before he finally said, "Not many…me, Quil, maybe Jacob. A few others from the track team, too. Maybe Embry if he feels up to it…" Charlie trailed off and shrugged. "But I dunno. He hasn't been feeling great lately." He forced a smile as he laughed it off.
Oh. Embry Call, one of Charlie's best friends. Growing up, there wasn't a day that went by when Kim didn't see them together.
Recently, it was becoming rarer to see them together, or to see Embry around at all. She and Embry weren't particularly close, but he was always kind to her. He still talked to her after Kim and Charlie broke up.
Kim turned to him. "Is he sick?"
"Yeah, but I'm sure it's nothing," Charlie said with a smile, but it looked forced.
It wasn't fair for Kim to press him about it. It wasn't any of her business, but Kim couldn't keep her curiosity at bay. She hoped Charlie didn't catch on.
"I know as much as you do," he went on with a shrug. "Which isn't saying much. He doesn't like to talk about it."
"Did something happen?" she asked.
Weeks leading up to Jared's disappearance, he'd begun closing himself off from his friends, and had angry outbursts during class. He would sit completely still for prolonged periods of time, with his head in his hands, sometimes with his eyes straight ahead lost in thought. He was a completely different person from the lighthearted, joking boy she knew. And the weeks before his sickness and return, he was sent to the office every other day because of his outbursts. At the time, Kim had chalked it up to the anniversary of his mother's death. If there was ever a time when Kim wanted to reach out to him, it was then.
But she was too slow - Sam Uley got to him first.
Kim was careful not to mention Sam to Maya, her cousin. The gossip surrounding Sam was another puzzle, but Kim wasn't sure what to think. Ever since he broke up with Leah Clearwater, and began a relationship with Emily Young, members of the community were quick to judge. And now Sam's apparent influence over Jared sucked him right in. Soon after, Paul Lahote joined the ranks.
Could it only be a matter of time before Embry did, too?
"That's the thing – nothing 'happened.' I think he just isn't feeling well. He just gets these migraines-" Charlie stopped. "Speaking of."
Kim and Maya turned and peaked at the table in the far corner. Embry moved to stand by Jared and Paul.
They appeared to be in a deep conversation with each other, Jared doing most of the talking while Embry stood still, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Paul was leaning back, looking like an out-of-place bodyguard as Jared looked at Embry earnestly, his eyes intense even from across the cafeteria.
Beside her, Charlie leaned close enough to Kim that their knees touched. She moved slightly away from him.
"Remember when Jared was gone for weeks?" Charlie asked in a whisper.
The sound of his name made Kim's heart leap. A feeling of being watched made the hairs on her arms stand up. Maybe she was just being paranoid. There's no way Jared could hear him from all the way over there. She didn't dare confirm it.
She nodded minutely.
"Embry said he started feeling weird and—Jared and Paul, I guess, started talking to him. It's been really weirding him out."
"What kind of things do they say to him?" Kim asked.
"I don't know - he won't tell me," Charlie said, shrugging. "I've tried to get him to talk to me. All he will tell me is that he feels nauseous, and that he's, like, burning up - like really warm, like he's on fire. He sometimes says he - uh - can hear voices in his head."
"Oh," Kim said, for a lack of anything else better to say. She felt a sudden chill and shivered, rubbing her arms. "Have you tried to talk to Embry recently?"
"I never get the chance to," he said, shaking his head. "He avoids me at school and spends the whole day at the nurse's office. He won't answer the phone, and his mom always tells me he's either doing homework or out. It's like he's avoiding me. Whatever bug they had, I guess Em got it, too."
"That's one way of putting it," Maya said, who was uncharacteristically silent during most of the conversation.
He frowned at her. "I'm just saying, whatever is going on with them is weird as hell. And I think it has to do with Sam Uley."
Kim winced at the name, her eyes darting to Maya.
Maya snorted and rolled her eyes. "Okay," she said, abruptly standing up and began to pack her things. "Sorry Charlie, I'm not going to stick around and hear your conspiracy theories. But I do know for damn sure Sam isn't 'corrupting the youth.' No offense, guys, but I'm going to go." She shot Kim a look.
Charlie's face fell, but his lips pressed together in a tight line.
Kim watched as her friend pulled her backpack on. "I think you should just leave them alone, you know?"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything," Charlie said as Kim watched her leave the cafeteria. He stood up. "C'mon, I'll walk you to class."
Grabbing her things, she casually looked around the cafeteria. Most students already left for their next period, but Jared, Paul, and Embry lingered at their table. She avoided looking at them too closely.
She would usually reject Charlie's offer - he was still so persistent that it annoyed her - but Kim felt bad about Maya's abrupt exit to accept it this time.
"Don't apologize," she said as she grabbed her bookbag. "I just think she's upset about what's going on. Her and Sam were super close. It hurts her to see him change so much."
"Yeah, I guess if he was my cousin I'd feel the same way…" Charlie frowned. "You ready?"
Kim nodded. Her eyes drifted back over to the table on the opposite side of the cafeteria as they passed by. Jared was looking right at her.
A wave of electricity went through her body when their eyes made contact. She immediately looked away just before the two exited the cafeteria.
Jared hadn't just looked at her—he was glaring.
A/N: Chapter title inspired by "crushcrushcrush" by Paramore.
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