I'm terrible at writing consistently. Shame on me. This material doesn't belong to me. This chapter has been slightly updated to clean up some writing mistakes and ensure continuity.
"Hey, Bella, do you want to go to the beach tomorrow?"
Those were not words I had expected to hear during my time in Forks, let alone on a Friday night in January. I stared at my phone, momentarily speechless. Beaches were something you did in nice weather, right? The snow hadn't even completely melted yet. What was the point of a beach?
"Bella?" My long silence must have worried Jessica. She had asked me several times throughout the day if I was sure I didn't have a concussion, was I really okay, shouldn't I go to the doctor just to be safe. I had put on my most convincing smile and assured her that her fears were baseless and I was just fine, but my continued distraction by the mystery of how exactly Edward Cullen had just teleported across the parking lot with no warning specifically to save my life probably hadn't helped my case.
"I'm fine, just thinking about it," I reassured her. "Who's going?"
"Oh! Me and Mike, Lauren, Angela, Eric, Conner, Ashley, Whitney, Lee, Austin, Samantha, and Rob so far. Tyler was going to come but then the accident happened so we were going to postpone it for him but he said to go ahead and do it anyway and he'd come along the next time we do it and we'd really love for you to come too."
Just listening to her rattle off so many words in a row without a pause made me feel out of breath. I paused, weighed the options, and then made the stupid decision.
"Of course, I'll go. Are we carpooling?"
"Yes!" Jessica sounded inordinately thrilled about my participation. "We're meeting up at the Newton's store at ten. It's about half an hour from there. Oh my gosh, it's going to be so much fun! The forecast says it's supposed to be rain so wear something waterproof."
"I will," I agreed, already regretting all of my life choices. "It'll be great."
"Eek! I can't wait! See you at ten!"
"The problem with Jessica," I remarked to myself after she hung up, "is that she uses too many exclamation points when she talks." It was charming, but occasionally grating—especially when the topic of conversation was something that shouldn't be exclaimed about, except perhaps in the sense of are you crazy?! It's January! Why would you go to the beach?!
That night I dreamed I was drowning in an endless sea of fog and rain. Somewhere behind me, Edward Cullen stood, his arms still crossed and his eyes still narrowed. Every time I turned to talk to him, he disappeared as quickly as he came.
Jessica grinned brightly at me as I climbed out of the truck. "We're going to have so much fun!" she exclaimed. Her enthusiasm was entirely misplaced, in my opinion. Nobody should be that excited about a trip to a freezing cold beach.
We waited for a couple more people to arrive, then squeezed ourselves into Conner's mother's twelve passenger van, which was apparently a thing that existed. I couldn't remember ever having seen anything other than a bus that seated more than eight people, but Conner said he had seven brothers and sisters. That seemed like an unnecessarily large number, but who was I to judge a woman for her presumably free and informed life choices? It wasn't like I was doing so well with my own life. Between the thirteen of us, the bags of gear, and the three very long surfboards strapped to the roof, it was a tight fit.
The mood was raucous, but not overly so. Mike tried to lead the car in a rousing rendition of "Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on The Wall," but Jessica wrestled him down and kissed him quiet, which he was more than happy to allow. Eric mimed throwing up from the floor where he sprawled between the driver and passenger seats. Lauren's only conversation topic was how excited she was for the next episode of Gilmore Girls, which was apparently coming out soon. Rob scoffed and said that he couldn't understand why shows like that were still running when Firefly was cancelled after only one season and Twin Peaks only made it for two. He and Angela argued over whether either franchise would ever be rebooted—they were divided on whether or not the upcoming movie based off the Firefly franchise should count. Somehow that led into a conversation about what each of us would do if we could read minds. Austin smirked and implied that he would be untroubled by ethical considerations. Lee talked about the possibilities for law enforcement, only looking pointedly at Austin once or twice. Mike asked for clarification about who the mind-reading would work on—animals, for example—and the conversation derailed into a philosophical discussion about animal cognition before I could mumble something about journalistic standards.
Something in the back of my mind reminded me that I couldn't expect to be a field reporter if I was barely able to maintain a conversation with friends, but I shut it down with the ease of long practice. I was working on stepping out of my comfort zone. It would come, with time.
The beach was every bit as cold as you would expect a beach in Washington to be during January. It hadn't rained yet, and while I was grateful for the small concession nature seemed to be making for me, I also wished it would just get it over with so I could be miserable instead of just anticipating misery. I climbed out of the van reluctantly, eying Jessica, Angela, and Mike as they hurried toward the waves, surfboards in tow. Eric jumped down next to me and shot me an understanding look.
"I love going to the beach," he said, "but they're just crazy. I surfed once and that was enough for me."
"It was a thing in Tampa," I agreed, "but I never got into it. Too much balance required for me to be able to handle it." Also, I was fourteen and nothing in the entire world would have induced me into a swim suit in public.
Eric's smile was knowing, and I blushed as I remembered tripping and catching myself on the edge of my desk in English on Wednesday. I mumbled an excuse and extricated myself from the conversation, ending up near Lee and Ashley as they stacked small logs in a makeshift circle of beach rocks. I stood there, wrapped in my own thoughts, while they got a fire going and Samantha produced a bag of s'more supplies from the van.
"Do you want one?"
I looked up, startled out of my reverie. Rob was holding out a pointed stick with a marshmallow on it.
"Oh, uh, sure," I said, taking it from him awkwardly. "I've never done this before, though."
"The trick is to set your marshmallow on fire and then eat it before all the sugar burns away," he said with a straight face.
"Shut up, Rob," Eric interrupted from his seat by the fire. "Bella, just hold it near the fire but out of the smoke. It'll turn GBD in a couple of minutes."
I smiled timidly and edged closer to the heat, trying to find a spot for roasting that was close but not too close. I wasn't afraid of fire but the idea of holding a flaming stick didn't overly appeal to me.
"Closer," Ashley said encouragingly. "Don't worry, if it falls off there's plenty more to replace it." She and Samantha shared a smile.
I inched the stick closer. It promptly caught on fire and I dropped it with a squeak.
"No harm done," Samantha said, handing me another stick with another marshmallow. "It takes practice to roast a perfect marshmallow."
I smiled vaguely, wondering how many tries it would take me to get a single s'more. The odds were not in my favor.
"Why don't you let me handle that?" a voice from behind me asked. "Handing Bella something that pointy is just asking for a disaster."
I spun around, both insulted and delighted. Jacob stood there, grinning brightly. A couple of other Quileutes stood behind him, but none that I could put a name to. As I stood, uncertain of how to respond, he strode forward and offered one hand imperatively.
"If I don't do it myself I'll never learn how," I protested, pulling the stick away from him. The marshmallow caught on fire again, but this time I yanked it out and blew on it before much damage had been done.
"Looks like a great s'more to me," Ashley reassured me, holding out half a graham cracker with a piece of chocolate on top. "Put 'er there."
I was confused, but did as instructed. She clapped another half cracker on top, pulled the whole thing backward, and we ended up with one s'more and one slightly sticky stick between us. She deftly traded objects with me and all in a moment I found myself holding the fruits of my labor.
It was delicious. I scarfed the whole thing down in two bites while Lee whistled and clapped.
"Oh my god, that's so good," I enthused. I hadn't been expecting to find anything particularly enjoyable about this trip, but it appeared that my doom-and-gloom had been inaccurate.
"Have you never had a s'more before?" Samantha asked, sounding a little shocked.
I blushed. Living in apartments with a hard-working single mom hadn't been conducive to going places or building fires, and the only thing Charlie cooked over fires was fish.
"I know for a fact that you've never eaten sushi before," Eric countered Samantha on my behalf, and I shot him a grateful look.
She made a face. "Raw fish isn't my idea of good food."
"You never know until you try," Rob said. "I thought I hated broccoli until I turned ten and—"
Samantha threw a marshmallow at him. He caught it neatly in his mouth and made a defiant face. "I won't be silenced so easily!"
We were all laughing as the other non-surfing group walked up. Connor and Eric bumped fists gently while Whitney grabbed a s'more stick of her own.
"Can we burn some driftwood?" Lauren asked plaintively. "The colors are prettier."
Jacob snorted, even though the fire was not his. "Driftwood fires are for tourists."
"What he said." Rob pointed at Jacob with double finger-guns. Jacob pointed back, and they shared a brief moment of camaraderie.
"Whatever." Lauren rolled her eyes and flopped down on one of the logs by the fire. Austin and Connor briefly jostled for position next to her.
Jessica came up just then, a thick towel wrapped around her wetsuit. "The surf's great!" she said brightly. "Anyone wanna borrow my board and try it out?"
I carefully avoided eye contact, fearing that she might push me to be adventurous, but Samantha saved me.
"I'll give it a shot," the tall girl volunteered. "I've gone a few times before."
"All yours!" Jessica gestured to where her surfboard leaned up against the van. "Don't eat it!"
Samantha jogged away and Jessica crowded up to the fire, tucking the towel under her arms and holding her hands out toward the warmth.
"Bella," Lauren called across the fire, "is it true you called Edward Cullen an asshole after he saved your life?"
Suddenly I was the center of attention. I grimaced, wishing the ground would suddenly turn into quicksand and swallow me whole.
"First things first," Jacob said, "saved your life? What's that about?"
He apparently hadn't heard it from Charlie, which surprised me. I had been under the impression that Charlie and Billy talked about nearly everything.
"Just a little car accident," I said quietly. "Tyler's car was skidding on the ice and he pulled me out of the way." I hated giving him that much credit, seeing as how rude he had been afterward. "And I didn't call him an asshole." Just a liar.
"Aww, then maybe I should have invited him on this trip. I only didn't because I didn't want it to be weird for you two," Lauren simpered. I discovered that I was grinding my teeth.
"The Cullens don't come to the beach anyway," Jacob's tall friend said flatly. It was just a statement of fact, no more and no less, but it piqued my curiosity.
"Why not?" Jessica asked, also sounding curious. "Aren't they super into outdoorsy stuff?"
"Sam," Jacob said, "weren't you going to see Leah?" I imagined that I could hear a note of warning? wariness? in his voice.
Sam bristled, ever so slightly, but then nodded. "You know, I was just on my way out. Quil, you coming?"
The third member of their trio agreed hastily and they headed off.
"Sorry about that," Jacob said. "Sam has this theory that Midwesterners are all secretly afraid of the ocean, since they didn't grow up around it."
He was lying. I wasn't quite sure how I could tell, but I was absolutely certain of it. I could practically feel my ears perking.
Jessica laughed. "My family is from the Midwest and, as you can tell, I'm not bothered in the slightest."
Jacob smiled, but I was positive that he was faking it. "I'll be sure to tell him that."
That was it. I was going to find out why he was lying if it was the last thing I did. Of course, when people said that in movies, it usually was the last thing that they did. Oh well.
"Hey, Jacob, want to go for a walk?" I asked, trying to be subtle. He didn't seem to notice any ulterior motives, though, as he nodded agreeably and we slipped away from the fire together. I immediately regretted it, since the temperature away from the fire was absolutely miserable and we were surrounded by wind and fog.
We walked in silence for a few minutes while I tried to think of a way to get the information I wanted. If this were a movie, the heroine would be using her feminine wiles and luring the unsuspecting male into doing whatever she wanted. That wasn't an option for me, though.
"Does Sam know the Cullens?" I asked first, testing the waters.
Jacob looked surprised. "I don't think anyone on the rez knows them. We try to stay away from the hospital when Dr. Cullen is on shift—" he stopped suddenly, as though he had already said too much. "Don't tell Charlie about that, though," he added.
"Why not? If they're… a problem… wouldn't he be the person to talk to?" I asked, trying not to sound too pushy.
Jacob huffed. "It's tribal stuff, so I don't expect you to understand this, Bella, but the Cullens are bad news."
"But why?" I pressed. "Are they really racist? Do they have plans to gentrify the city? Are they performing illegal experiments on hospital patients? Are they secretly warlocks?"
Jacob looked like he was trying not to smile for a minute, but then the smile won. "Something like that," he said, then continued as I tried to respond. "No, no, Bella, this isn't any of your business and you shouldn't worry about it."
I narrowed my eyes. There was no more effective way to tempt me to pursue this issue further. "Watch me."
"Promise me," and Jacob's voice was strangely urgent, "that you won't say anything to Charlie."
"I can't promise that!" I protested. "If they're bad people, he needs to know!"
"Just… just don't mention this to him," he pleaded. "It's not that kind of thing."
"If you would tell me what kind of thing it was, we wouldn't be having this conversation," I hissed back.
He threw up his hands. "Bella, you're impossible."
I was tired of boys lying to me for indeterminate reasons. "I don't think that's the issue here."
"Just… god. Bella, please leave this alone."
"Fine," I spat. If they could lie, I could do it too. "Whatever." Now I sounded like Lauren.
He studied my face, his expression uncertain. "Bella," he began, but I didn't want to hear it.
"I'm going back to the fire," I said, then turned away without waiting to see if he was following.
The rest of the trip was exactly as bad as I had expected. That night, I lay in bed and promised myself that I would never go to the beach again.