Another week, another upload! I do love being able to put things up regularly :) I have two more chapters in the chamber and another almost finished, so there's still a few more coming your way before I go quiet again. That said, next weekend is basically Christmas and I will be away over the festive season, meaning there may or may not be an upload next week.

If I don't get another chance to say so, enjoy whatever celebrations you may have coming up over the next few weeks, and I will see you in the next chapter!

Glitterb x


Chapter 7: Repetition

"What am I doing here?" I muttered to myself as the truck's wheels bumped off the paved road and on to the thin dirt track.

It truly was the height of insanity, almost guaranteed to bring the zombie back, which was the opposite of helpful at the moment. Either that, or I had apparently decided that the agony inflicted by my subconscious every night wasn't enough, and I had to torture myself in the waking world too. I shouldn't give in to the urge; I should have headed straight for La Push as soon as I'd dropped Beau at home. Jules was safe and comfortable – it would be far better for me to be around her right now.

But apparently I had given up caring, because I continued driving down the familiar lane, the thick trees curled into a green tunnel around me. It was more unkempt than I remembered, the undergrowth reaching out like spindly fingers attempting to catch hold of the car as I passed them. I squeezed my fingers around the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white just to keep my hands from shaking.

My newfound awareness was partly to blame, I decided. Now that I could somewhat think of my nightmare without recoiling, now that I didn't have the haze to hide in, I could more clearly refute the sense of hopelessness that was at the root of that bone-chilling terror. All the fear came from the realisation that I was searching for nothing, that there was nothing to find and never had been. But I knew that was wrong. There had been something – there had been him and he had to still be out there somewhere. I had no hope of actually tracking him down, of course, but I had to believe there was a trace of him somewhere near at hand that I could hold on to.

I was also feeling an odd sense of something like nostalgia. Or if not that, at least a sense of history repeating itself. That I should come back to myself now, so near the anniversary of my first arrival here, the beginning of everything… it felt like a restart, a renewal. Today was perhaps a version of how lunchtime would have gone if there truly had been no one more interesting than Beau's long-lost twin sister in the cafeteria that day a year ago.

It will be as if I never existed at all.

Once again, the words were like writing on a page, lifeless, emotionless and voiceless. They weren't what I was looking for.

Which was the other reason for this little excursion, I finally admitted to myself. It was taking too long to cheat, having to wait for the bikes to be finished. I needed his voice, that painless hallucination I had conjured up on Friday night, and, mentally unstable as it was, I couldn't stand the delay imposed by the bike repairs any longer. The pale wisps of his voice that usually came to me just weren't enough, and I couldn't stand the aching long enough to really enjoy listening to them anyway. I knew that even if this worked – and that was a very, very big if – then that pain would eventually catch up to me, just like it had the other night. Perhaps it would even keep making things worse, piling on top of all the other agonies. But once the idea of chasing the voice had occurred to me, I simply didn't have the willpower to withstand the draw. There had to be some way I could repeat the experience (although I was beginning to think that perhaps it would be more accurate to call it an episode) from that darkened street in Port Angeles.

My only guess, based on breaking down the sequence of events from that night, was that it was all about familiarity. All the trouble had started because I'd thought I saw something that hadn't really been there, but which had thrown me back into a moment in time when what I so desperately wanted to believe had actually been true. The déjà vu might have been the key to everything, and there was really only one other way I could think of to test my theory.

Hence my current mad expedition, driving towards his home for the first time since that awful birthday party.

It felt as if the drive would last forever. It was like driving through the depths of a jungle, turning every now and then to avoid the larger trees, nothing ever seeming to change no matter how far I went. Though I thought I remembered some of the twists and turns, it was getting harder and harder to tell; everything had grown up since I was here last, with no passing cars or careful maintenance to keep the wilderness at bay. It was all disconcertingly similar to my dream, and my gut was already starting to twist with anxiety.

I pressed down on the accelerator, risking the loss of control for the hope of breaking out of here sooner. I was beginning to worry that this was going to turn out exactly like my nightmare, and that I would never find what I was looking for. How could I possibly cope if that proof of their existence wasn't here at all? I found myself wishing that I had brought Beau with me, after all. I was sure I could have found some excuse, some way to explain to him why I wanted to go here. But… no, that would have been a terrible idea. At best, he would have been too kind, too caring, too ready to soothe and settle me down. At worst, he would have insisted on coming with me to Jules' house afterwards, which would definitely be a bad idea.

At last, I saw the slight lightening ahead of me that showed where the trees opened up; even after all this time, I was sure it wasn't as stark a change as it should have been. It didn't take long once I emerged into the clearing to see why. Like the driveway before, the little meadow was overrun with the creeping plant life that made up the typical Washington woodland underbrush. The tree which shaded the lawns were even thicker than before, making the space darker than I remembered. Ferns had grown up through the lower grass that used to fill the space, turning it into an ocean of waving green that looked like it was in danger of drowning the sturdy cedars and the house itself. The tips of the curling fronds brushed against the side of the truck as I pulled to a stop, swishing like foam crashing softly against a shoreline.

The house was there, despite my fears, but there was no relief in finding it. It looked just the same as it had before – three stories tall, original or well-restored period details, the deep porch shading the door, beautiful and grand in that way that all antiques are – but the windows were not the bright, inviting sight I remembered. Instead, they were sinister black portals, promising nothing but darkness in their depths. There was a sense of foreboding about the place now; it just felt empty, even without going inside. Now it looked like the sort of place where you would expect to find vampires, when before it had shattered all my expectations of what their home would be like.

I had to slam on the brakes and turn away from it, taking a moment to gather myself. Fear gripped me, and I could feel the edges of the hole in my chest stinging. I waited, bracing myself.

But there was nothing. No memory came to me. No voice echoed in my ears.

Just remembering had not been enough on Friday – I'd heard him only when I got closer, when I embraced the memories and moved towards their source. So maybe this was the same. Maybe if I walked towards the house…

Without bothering to do more than throw the gearshift into neutral, not even turning off the engine or putting on the handbrake, I shoved open the door and waded into the sea of ferns. They reached nearly to my waist, my feet disappearing completely into their depths as I moved slowly forward. The engine growling away behind me was an odd sort of comfort, a reassuring connection to the real world in this space that still felt more than a little dreamlike.

I only went as far as the bottom of the porch steps. That was all the distance it took for me to be certain that my plan wasn't working. There were no lingering ghosts here, no honey voice drifting on the wind, not even the sharper stab of more painful memories; the ache stayed dull and unfocused, brought on more by anticipation than by actual recollection. The physical proof I had sought was here, but just like the gifts, it wasn't the stuff that really mattered. Empty and lifeless as it was, devoid of the people that had made it a place of safety and comfort, it was nothing but a building, and a building couldn't chase away the nothingness.

Going closer wasn't going to help. I could see that now, and abruptly, I didn't want to go further. If I climbed the steps, I would see inside the house pretty much whether I wanted to or not, and there was only one of two sights that would greet me if I did.

Either it would be empty, stripped of everything that made it recognisable, left with nothing but bare walls and barren rooms. Or else everything would still be there, abandoned and gathering dust even as it looked as if they could walk back in at any moment and go back to their old life. I wasn't sure which would be worse – to have no lingering signs of them, or to see how little anything mattered to them, that it could all just be left behind without a thought, without a feeling.

Forgotten. Just like me.

Rather than torture myself further with either sight, I turned and rushed back to the truck, almost running in my sudden desire to escape this shell of a place, to be back in the real world instead of this strange overgrown echo of happier times, now a place of desolation. I felt hollowed out, empty, just like the house, and the need to test my theory and find the voice was replaced with a burning, overwhelming desire to see Jules. The intensity of it was staggering, and I knew it was probably just as unhealthy to have my fleeting efforts at happiness so thoroughly tied to her presence in my life as it was to go chasing my delusions. At this point, though, I simply didn't care. I pushed the truck to its limits all the way to Jules' house, reasoning that if I killed the engine in the process, I would at least be in the best place to get it fixed.

Jules was once again waiting for me when I arrived, sitting on her porch braiding her hair. She had one finished already, and finished the last few twists on the second as she walked towards me, a beaming smile on her face that almost instantly replaced the lingering ache in my chest with a deep sense of warmth. Finally, I could breathe properly again.

"Hey, Bella," she greeted me excitedly, winding the hair tie around the completed braid and pulling me in for a hug.

"Hi, Jules," I replied, smiling reflexively and doing my best not to hug her back too desperately. When she pulled away, I waved to Bonnie, who was peering out of the window at us; she waved back and drifted away, apparently not inclined to continue spying on us.

"Ready to get to work?" Jules spoke in a low, conspiratorial voice, leaning in close as if to keep her words from being overheard, even though we were no longer being observed.

I laughed at her eagerness, but couldn't help the twinge of insecurity that ran through me; Logan's attitude at lunch was still festering in the back of my mind. "Aren't you tired of having me sit around just watching you all the time?"

"Nah, I love an audience." She grinned mischievously. "No one else is as impressed with me as you are, they've all seen it all before."

She started leading the way around to the garage, and I fell into step beside her easily, her slow, lazy stride offsetting any benefit that might have come from her longer legs.

"You'd tell me if I was really bugging you, though, right?" I pressed. "The last thing I want is to be an annoyance."

"Sure," Jules agreed flippantly. "But I wouldn't be holding your breath for that if I were you. Believe it or not, I do actually enjoy spending time with you, Bella."

I returned her warm smile with a small one of my own. "Me too."

Stepping into the little shed, I had to stop and do a double take. Where yesterday evening there had been little more than a pile of metal scraps, there was now one completed bike. At least, the red bike looked like it was all in one piece again, and it was standing up rather than scattered across the floor.

"Oh my gosh, Jules!" I exclaimed. "Are you some kind of magician? This is amazing!"

She chuckled, seeming a bit embarrassed by my praise. "I wish. I just get a bit obsessive when I have a project. Mom teases me about it, but I think she prefers me spending hours out here rather than running all over the rez causing trouble."

I couldn't help a small laugh. "Oh yeah, I'm sure you would be quite the menace without a way to occupy your time." I crossed the garage to run my hand along the side of the bike, imagining how the engine would hum once it was fully operational. Would it be a roar like my truck, or a quieter, gentler purr? It felt like it would kill me to have to wait much longer to find out.

When I looked back at Jules to ask if she had an estimate on when she'd be finished, her expression gave me pause. It had twisted into something more sombre and thoughtful. I didn't like that; there should be no clouds to dim my eternal earthbound sun.

"What's wrong?" I asked, feeling my forehead crease into a frown and taking a step back towards her.

She didn't say anything at first, and I wondered if she had even heard me, until she finally spoke quietly. "Just thinking… about what you would do if I said there was nothing I could do to fix the bikes. That there was no amount of new parts in the world that could ever make them run again."

I was justifiably confused by that. After all, hadn't she spent the better part of our drive to Hoquiam proclaiming her impressive skills as a mechanic? "What's brought this on?"

Jules shrugged, fidgeting and kicking the edge of the tarp on the floor with her toe. "I don't know, I guess… I've just been enjoying hanging out with you, and I'm realising that if I finish these things too quickly, you won't have anything to come over for anymore."

I hurried back across the garage and put what I hoped was a reassuring hand on her arm. "Oh Jules, don't be silly! Of course I'll still come over, so long as you don't mind me cluttering up your space. You still have to teach me to ride, remember? And I'm sure we can find other stuff to pass the time with, too. If nothing else, we're both pretty much guaranteed to always have homework to do, right?"

Her smile was tentative, but her posture was beginning to relax and return to its usual comfortable, carefree slouch. "You really mean that?"

"Of course I do." I was tempted to go in for a hug, but that felt like just a bit too much, so I settled for grasping her hand and giving it a comforting squeeze instead. She squeezed back and then let go and moved to sit down beside the bike, taking up her tools.

"I dunno," she said, and I could hear the teasing in her tone. "I think you're just hoping if you hang around long enough, you'll get to see Quil again."

I rolled my eyes hard, moving to my usual spot in the front seat of the Rabbit. "Yes, I am continually monopolising your time and my brother and I's shared vehicle on the off chance that I run into one overconfident sixteen-year-old."

She giggled. "Hey, it makes more sense than the idea that you like spending time with me that much."

"You're a lot of fun to hang out with," I insisted. "Even when you aren't doing the work of an otherwise very expensive mechanic basically for free. And I have the perfect way to prove it to you. I have a shift at work tomorrow so I won't be able to come over, but what do you say Wednesday we take a break from the bikes and do something else?"

"Like what?"

"Whatever you want." I shrugged. "I told Charlie I'd bring some school stuff with me to do today, so I should probably actually do it at some point so I don't get crazy behind. You could bring your homework over to our house and we'll have a study session, so we can say we've at least made an attempt to keep us both on track."

Jules wrinkled her nose. "That is an annoyingly good idea. Ugh, I hate homework."

"It's a necessary evil of the teenage experience," I declared in my most mournful voice, dissolving into giggles almost instantly when she cracked up laughing. "Besides, our parents will stay off our backs more easily if our grades don't start slipping. Bonnie's not going to think I'm much of a role model if I'm constantly distracting you from school."

"Excellent point. So, one night a week we do homework?"

"Twice might be better," I reasoned. "I don't know what the reservation school is like, but Forks High seniors get quite the pile." Just today I'd picked up two pages of Calculus problems, essays for Government and English, and a Spanish translation exercise, and I was sure there was more reading for History coming my way tomorrow.

Jules looked morose but resigned. Then she perked up as if she'd suddenly remembered something, and momentarily abandoned her trusty wrench to reach across the top of her toolbox for a paper bag I hadn't noticed before, pulling out two soda cans. She cracked one open, the crunch of the aluminium and hiss of escaping fizz echoing slightly off the metal walls, then handed the can to me and repeated the process with the second, keeping it for herself and raising it with as much grandeur as if it had been a crystal goblet of the finest champagne.

"To two days a week of responsibility," she toasted.

"And recklessness every other day," I tacked on.

Her grin lit up the entire room as she tapped the edge of her can on mine. "Sounds perfect."

I lost track of time and didn't make it back for dinner; Beau had cooked in my absence and insisted on heating me up some leftovers, shushing me every time I tried to protest or apologise.

"I got a day off yesterday from having dinner at Bonnie's," he reasoned. "We'll just reset the switch-off and you can cook tomorrow, okay?"

"Fine," I sighed, realising that his heels were well and truly dug in and there was no chance of changing his mind. "But you're making me feel very spoiled just sitting here waiting to be served."

Beau gestured grandly to the microwave, either intentionally or serendipitously timing it to perfectly coincide with the loud beeping that signalled it was finished. "Well then, by all means, help yourself, Miss Independent."

Taking the window where it was offered, I quickly popped up out of my seat and gathered cutlery from the drawer before taking the plate from the microwave and sitting back down to dig in. It was pasta in a thick cream sauce; he'd added enough cheese that I could see the strings of it as I lifted each forkful, and I couldn't keep from shifting happily back and forth in my seat as I tasted it.

"This is delicious," I commented between mouthfuls. "I'm glad you made me have some."

"You're welcome," he chuckled, amused by my antics and looking pleased at the compliment. He sat back down at the table next to me, reopening the textbook he'd abandoned when I arrived, and we sat for a few minutes in companionable silence while he read and I chewed, the sound of the TV drifting in from the living room where Charlie was watching sports, as usual.

It was Beau who broke the quiet. "So…"

I quirked an eyebrow at him when he didn't seem inclined to go on. "So?"

"Going back to our conversation from yesterday, and at the risk of ruining… all this…" He gestured to me in general, but I took his meaning – my newly more positive outlook on life. "What's really brought it on? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're… um…"

"Back in the land of the living?" I offered, giving him a comforting smile. "It's okay, Beau, you can say it. I know I haven't exactly been… present the last few months. And I'm sorry it's been so hard on you and Charlie. You shouldn't have to suffer the fallout from my issues like this."

He reached over and laid his hand over mine where it was resting on the table. "That's not a problem for us, Bell. You should know there isn't anything you could do that would keep us from wanting to take care of you. I guess I'm just curious because it seemed like nothing we were doing was helping, and it would be nice to know what changed."

What had changed was that I'd completely cracked and started hallucinating the voice of the love of my life out of a misguided and completely unfulfillable wish for him to still care about me, but I didn't think that was quite what Beau wanted to hear. So instead I shrugged, reclaimed my hand and started eating again, keeping my focus on my food while trying not to seem like I was avoiding his eyes. "I don't know. Like I said last night, what Charlie said last week just sank in more than usual, I guess. Hanging out with Jules is really helping."

"I'd noticed," he agreed, and I was relieved to hear no note of suspicion in his voice. "You really enjoy just sitting watching her fiddle with an engine for hours?"

I snickered. "She asked me pretty much the same thing earlier. We decided to start branching out a bit and do some homework a few times a week. You're welcome to join us if you want."

I regretted the impulsive invitation almost as soon as I'd made it; I didn't want him interpreting that as open permission to come down to the garage.

"You sure about that?" He raised an eyebrow at me, his mouth curling up on one side in a sly grin. "You seemed pretty keen on keeping her to yourself yesterday."

"Well, we're going to be here, most likely, so it would honestly be more difficult to leave you out," I said flippantly. "And if I'm going to conserve enough energy to tackle Calculus, I don't want to waste anything on avoiding my perpetually interfering brother." I shot him a cheeky smile to take the sting out of the insult.

Beau went to try and shove me, but I dodged out of his way, leaving the table and taking my now empty dish to the sink to wash. I contemplated grabbing a book and joining him at the kitchen table, but he had already retreated to his room by the time I finished cleaning up, apparently satisfied enough with my return to relative normality to voluntarily leave me unattended. I decided to follow his lead and also headed for the privacy of my room, ready to make a dent in that giant homework pile ahead of my working day with Jules.

I took a minute to fire up my computer so I could check my emails again before I dived in, and found a long reply from Renée. Everything I'd described in my letter was responded to in enthusiastic detail; I could practically hear the excited tone of voice she would use if we were talking face to face. In an effort to continue my new habit of actually being an engaged and communicative member of my family, I wrote another in-depth outline of my day, including some of the conversations at lunchtime, although I decided to leave out the bit about the bears so as not to worry her with the idea of me being in such close proximity to giant wild animals. I also left out that the mechanical work I'd spent the latter part of the afternoon watching was the rebuilding of two antique motorcycles. My mother was fun-loving and open-minded, but even she would freak out if she thought I was anywhere near those death machines. Once I'd done enough work to feel like the load would be a little more manageable come Wednesday, I picked up my journal again. If the nightmares were unavoidable, I reasoned that it wouldn't hurt to keep brushing up against the memories, but I was careful to turn straight to my next empty space without flipping through those early pages again. I wrote the more honest version of the day's events now that I was only writing for myself, adding my best sketch of the mostly finished red bike that I could manage from memory. I wondered if Beau had taken his camera for a spin recently and if he would object to becoming my personal photographer so I could add a picture of Jules; I didn't trust my artistic skills to accurately render a person to my satisfaction. In lieu of any other way to represent her, I doodled wrenches and other tools around the edge of the plain page. Once again, exhaustion eventually drove me to my bed, and though the nightmare came as I had expected, tonight it felt like I jerked awake sooner than usual, and when I fell back to sleep at last, I was dreamless until the morning.

The school day on Tuesday was a bit of a mixed bag. Angela and Jeremy were still seemingly enthusiastic about involving me in our social circle again, helped by Beau getting back into his usual habit of teasing me mercilessly at every opportunity. For them, my odd behaviour since September was apparently easily excused and ignored, and chatting with them at lunch made me feel halfway normal again. McKayla, unfortunately, was more inclined to simply ignore me altogether, while Logan kept making snide comments that were just loud enough to be heard while clearly not directly addressed to me. Tyler and the others fell somewhere in between, though they leaned more on the side of uncomfortably acknowledging my existence without actually looping me in to their conversations.

On a positive note, McKayla didn't seem to have told anyone else about the Port Angeles incident, but she also clearly hadn't let it go; I wondered how much time it would take for her to move on and if I might have to make some kind of formal apology before she finally forgave me. She didn't talk to me more than absolutely necessary all throughout our shift at work that night, but I tried not to let it bother me or make the atmosphere awkward, focusing on the mundane tasks of stocking, tidying up the store and serving the handful of customers that came in. We seemed to be maintaining something resembling cordiality for most of the hours we were forced to spend together until it was time to close up and head home.

As I was folding my vest and stowing it under the counter, McKayla went to flip the closed sign on the door. She was turning to come back and gather her things when she suddenly stopped, looking out into the parking lot more closely.

"Everything okay?" I asked, trepidation building as my imagination ran away with me cataloguing all the things it could be – escaped convicts, more guys like the ones from Friday night, perhaps even that monster bear everyone had been going on about. Thankfully, her answer wasn't anything so horrifying, although she delivered it in a frantic hiss that made it sound like the most important thing in the world.

"Jeremy's out there."

I relaxed, moving around the counter to head for the door. "Maybe he wants to talk to you."

"Well, I don't want to talk to him," she said sniffily, but she got her stuff together a little more quickly than usual and I was sure I didn't mistake the look of anticipation in her eyes as we both made our way out into the parking lot.

Sure enough, Jeremy was sitting in his car, parked just one space over from my truck and trying — and failing — to look like he wasn't watching the door and waiting for someone to come out. When McKayla and I emerged, he got out but only went as far as leaning against his door, his expression eager but nervous. McKayla gave me a short and somewhat terse goodbye and headed for her car on the other side of the lot, looking back over her shoulder at him every few steps. I waited for Jeremy to go after her, but he didn't move. With a sinking sensation developing in the pit of my stomach, I started walking towards my car. My fears were quickly confirmed; as I approached, he finally stood up straight and began moving to intercept me on the sidewalk, not sparing so much as a glance for McKayla. I'd clearly been very wrong about who Jeremy was here to see. When my eyes cut across the lot to see what McKayla made of the situation, I saw her face twisted into a look that was part hurt and part fury. If there had been any thought in her mind of forgiving either Jeremy or I for the slights we had committed against her, it was well and truly gone now.

"Hey Bella," Jeremy called cheerfully, completely oblivious to the utter havoc he had just unleashed. "I hoped you'd still be here."

"I always work until closing on Tuesdays," I reminded him reluctantly, not pausing in my determined stride towards the driver's side of the truck.

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Yeah, right, of course. Duh. I guess I meant I was hoping I would catch you before you left."

I wondered idly how long he'd been sitting out here waiting. Across the lot, McKayla's engine revved more loudly than necessary and she drove past us with an uncontrolled air that made me nervous. I tried to wave to her one more time, but she ignored me.

Resigned to suffering her hatred a little while longer, I turned back to Jeremy. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, well, I was just thinking, earlier at school…" He shifted his feet a little, then took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for something. "I was thinking it was a shame you didn't get to see the end of that movie you went to last week. You know, because it was too scary."

I opened the door of the truck and threw my bag in, hoping that if I kept looking like I intended to leave, he'd eventually get the message. I didn't look at him as I spoke. "It's no big deal. I guess I'm just a scaredy cat. I'm probably better off staying away from horror."

"That was kind of what I was going to ask," Jeremy said, sounding more excited and apparently immune to my attempts to dissuade him with standoffishness. "I thought maybe you might like to go see something else, something you could actually watch all the way through."

I was torn. On the one hand, I really didn't want to lose one of the few people who was actually still willing to be friends with me. On the other, I couldn't bring myself to encourage him to think that what he so clearly wanted was actually possible.

I decided it was best to just bite the bullet and get it over with. "Are you asking me on a date, Jeremy?"

Something in my tone of voice gave him pause, and he began to look uncomfortable. "Yeah, I guess. But it doesn't have to be, if you'd rather not put such a big label on it."

"I don't date." As I said the words, I was struck by how true they were. I'd never really dated, but now that whole world of normal teenage social interaction seemed like it was miles away, something which I could never be a part of again, even if I'd wanted to. I'd had my great love, my Romeo, and Juliet, and having somehow survived the tragedy, there was nothing else that could ever hope to compare.

"What if we went as friends?" Jeremy suggested; his excitement had all leaked out of him now, but thankfully not to the point that he was getting dejected or upset by the rejection. He seemed to accept it, which I hoped meant I truly hadn't lost his friendship.

"That sound like a good idea." I smiled with what I prayed was just the right level of encouragement. "It's just that I've already made plans for this Friday, so it would have to wait for a bit."

"Oh, okay." He looked a little surprised to hear that I had a prior engagement. "What are you up to?"

"Just a study session with a friend." I shrugged; technically these were Wednesday's plans, but we had said twice a week… "Beau might join us too once he gets back from work. I've been getting swamped with homework recently."

"Yeah, me too," he chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets and swinging back on his heels. "Alright, maybe we can set something up for next week."

"Sure," I agreed, probably a bit too reckless in my haste to get away. "Have a good night, Jer."

"Night, Bella."

I did my best not to think about Jeremy or McKayla for the rest of the evening. After all, I'd done everything I could to stay out of whatever was or wasn't going on between them. I didn't encourage Jeremy's interest in me, nor could I control it; McKayla had no rational reason to be annoyed at me because he kept asking me out, and there was nothing I could do about it if she wanted to be in a snit. My relationship with her might well be permanently damaged, but I didn't have the energy to waste fighting to keep it. Not when there were people I didn't have to work so hard to get along with; Jules was the easiest, of course, but even Jeremy and Angela brought a smile to my face more readily than McKayla ever had.

The next day at school was more of the same, except that McKayla was now giving me and Jeremy the cold shoulder even more determinedly than before. I didn't let it bother me; I had something far more pleasant to look forward to at home later. The day passed quickly, no longer because I was unaware of my surroundings but because I couldn't wait to get to the end of the day. After much intense debate between me and my twin, we ended up both driving down to La Push to pick up Jules straight from school rather than going home first. She was on her front steps again when we arrived, her bag still slung over her shoulder, looking as if she'd only just got back from school herself. She bounded into up to the door of the truck with the biggest grin on her face, instantly falling into her familiar banter with Beau.

"Running a taxi service now, are you?" she quipped as I shuffled across the seat to make room for her.

Beau rolled his eyes. "Yes, we exclusively serve mouthy sixteen-year-olds who keep saying they're going to finish their car but never seem to get around to it and have to rely on their older and more responsible friends for rides everywhere."

Jules reached over me to smack him playfully on the back of the head. "Shut up, you ass. You wouldn't even have a car without me."

"I have no recollection of this." Beau put on his best innocent expression, fluttering his eyes in a way that had both Jules and me busting out laughing at how ridiculous he looked.

Once we got home, we debated over setting up in the kitchen before quickly realising that the table barely had enough room for two of us to spread out all our books, folders, notes, and papers, let alone trying to squeeze three in. So instead we took over the living room, with Beau and Jules migrating pretty rapidly from the sofa to the floor while I was content to prop my books against my knees with my feet up on the couch cushions.

Working like this had a much different atmosphere than what I had always been used to. For most of my life, school work had been something I did alone, or at most with my mom there to help me when I was younger. But I hadn't really needed her much once I got out of elementary school, and so I had got used to quietly reading, writing and working things out by myself. After I'd moved to Forks, I'd still mostly worked on my own, except now if I got really stuck on something I could go and pester my brother, since there was a good chance that, even if we weren't in the same class, he'd been given the same assignment or had done something similar before. Sometimes it was even just helpful to have someone else to bounce ideas off of, and the benefits went both ways; I had already lost count of the number of times that he'd come knocking on my door begging for help with a question or essay, and we'd got into a good routine of proof-reading each other's work before we handed it in whenever possible. Our very occasional joint study sessions were much like last week's Calculus review in the truck – doing our own thing in tandem, sharing space but still working independently.

Now adding Jules to the mix changed everything once again. She was of course working on entirely different topics than we were, not only because she was two years behind us but also because her school operated a subtly different curriculum than ours. She shamelessly took full advantage of having two older students to help her and kept interrupting our work to ask questions or make us explain some concept she wasn't understanding. Beau fielded most of it, treating each disruption with great exasperation but never outright refusing to help her; I knew him well enough to recognise how much he was enjoying being needed. Despite her height, Jules looked very young, lying on her stomach with her feet kicked up behind her, propped up on her elbows and resting her chin on her hand as Beau tried to explain how to calculate molar mass. Every now and then she'd take a break from her own work and ask me to explain what I was doing, and it was actually kind of fun to play teacher for a little while; working out how to explain things to her even helped fix a few things in my memory that I was sure would otherwise have taken a few more study sessions to really lock in. She reciprocated, and while school was clearly not something she was overly excited by, she got very enthusiastic outlining some of the history she was working through.

Charlie got home just before dinner and didn't seem at all surprised to see we had company, though I realised as he walked in that I had entirely failed to let him know that Jules was coming over. Obviously Bonnie had spilled the beans, proof that they were indeed talking behind our backs and yet another reminder that we needed to be careful about what we let Jules' mother see or hear.

"Hey there, kids," he said, a small smile showing through his moustache. "Something smells good."

The smell of tomato sauce and cheese was indeed wafting down the hallway from the kitchen, where the lasagne I had spent part of the afternoon working on was in the last stages of baking. Cooking it had felt like a battle at times as I chased away both Beau and Jules as they attempted to 'taste test' at almost every stage of the proceedings. It was a pretty involved dinner for a night when I was also trying to do school work, but I was feeling guilty for missing my turn to cook and wanted to make up for it.

"It should be pretty much ready," I told him now, putting aside the English essay I had just finished and getting up to head to the kitchen. "Want to stay for dinner, Jules?"

"Sure," Jules chirped from her spot on the floor. "So long as it's cool with you, Charlie."

"Of course, honey, you're always welcome here."

The lasagne went down a treat with everyone; it was one of those dinners where there wasn't a lot of talking because everybody was too focused on their food. Jules in particular was making happy noises every other bite.

"Damn, that was good, Bella," she proclaimed when she put down her fork after her second portion. "You definitely get an extra year for cooking skills."

I laughed, picking up another fork full of my own food. My appetite wasn't what it once had been, and though I had tried to put a bit less on my plate, I hadn't wanted my portion to be noticeably smaller and I was struggling to finish.

Beau gave her a confused and somewhat amused look. "Do I want to know what you're talking about?"

"Oh, yeah," Jules chuckled. "We've been trying to work out a better way to measure age than just how long you've been alive."

Charlie frowned. "But… that's how age works, isn't it?"

"But you have to consider maturity, too," I pointed out. "Some people are the same age, but one can be a lot more grown up than another and that makes them effectively different ages." I smirked slightly and gestured between myself and Beau. "Case in point."

My brother made a show of looking affronted. "How dare you imply I am anything less than a pinnacle of maturity!"

"He gets extra points for being taller," Jules reminded me. "So he's got to start with at least twenty years right off the bat."

"Hah!" Beau gave a celebratory fist pump. "Take that!"

I rolled my eyes at him. "That extra year I just got makes me twenty-four, so I wouldn't celebrate too much if I were you."

The conversation turned to calculating exactly what Beau's age should be according to our rules, and to my annoyance, he passed me by the time we were done. Neither of us got close to Jules' thirty, not even when Beau pointed out how Renée had always said I was born thirty-five, although my middle-aged attitude did get me a bump of six months. Charlie watched the banter with that same small, pleased smile, sipping his drink and finishing his food without commenting. Eventually Jules had to go, taking a Tupperware full of lasagne with her for Bonnie. Beau drove her home, and I retreated to my room to write in my journal. All in all, it had been a good day, made even better by another miraculously dream-free night.

On Friday I dropped Beau off at work after school then spent the rest of the afternoon in the garage, making sure to keep closer watch on the time so I didn't miss picking him up again, and after we both finished our shifts on Saturday we once again drove down to La Push and picked Jules up for another homework session. Charlie spent the day fishing with Harry and by the time he got home, we were all caught up with our work and watching TV. There had been a bit of bickering between Beau and Jules over what to watch until I'd cast my vote with Jules and overruled my brother. I had no real interest in Monster Garage, of course, but the disgruntled look on Beau's face and his dramatic cries of betrayal were too funny to make me feel truly bad.

Unfortunately, Charlie's arrival made Jules realise how late it was.

"I've got to get going," she said with a disappointed sigh. "Mom will be wondering where I've got to."

"I guess I'd better take you home then," I grumbled, standing up with exaggerated slowness.

She laughed and seemed happy with my reluctance to let her go.

"Back to work tomorrow?" I asked once were safely in the truck and out of the boys' hearing range. "I can come over whenever."

Now there was a strange excitement, or perhaps anticipation, in her expression. "Wait until I call you, okay?"

I frowned. "Why?"

"Do you trust me?" Her grin got wider.

"Of course."

"Then have faith and wait for me to call. I promise it will be worth it."

"Fine," I agreed reluctantly. "But I'm giving you my cell phone number just in case."

"Even better," she enthused.

The next morning, our whole family seemed to silently agree it was a day for cleaning. Charlie was outside washing the cruiser while Beau manned the vacuum and I set to scrubbing the surfaces. I knew why I was putting all my energy into the liberal application of disinfectants; I needed something to distract me while I waited impatiently for Jules to call, and to help me shake off last night's nightmare. I was still fruitlessly searching, and thankfully Sam had decided to leave me alone, but instead of the usual tightly packed trees I had instead been hurrying through a dense sea of waist-high ferns, interspersed with clutches of massive hemlock trees which I always moved quickly towards, only to find nothing hidden in the little clearings that they formed. I was annoyed at myself, my irritation coming out in my forceful wielding of the cleaning supplies as I silently cursed my foolishness in going out to the abandoned house last week. Clearly, this was some sort of delayed response. I did my best to push the dream out of my mind and focus on nothing but the task in front of me. Perhaps if I could force the memories deep enough into the dark recesses of my brain, it would eventually be as if they weren't there at all.

I kept my phone in my back pocket as I worked, with the volume turned all the way up just in case Beau was nearby when it rang. As it happened, I was upstairs working on the bathroom and he was down in the living room when it went off, and the loud noise echoed in the small space, making me jump. I stripped off my rubber gloves quickly so I could answer. "Hello?"

"They're done," came the somewhat ominous reply, tempered by the wide smile that I could hear in Jules' voice.

A thrill of excitement went through me. "Wait, really? Like, done, done?"

"Yup. All the parts are in, the fuel tanks are full, I even tested the engines and they definitely run."

"Jules, you are absolutely incredible," I enthused. "You get an extra ten years for this, no question."

She laughed. "Awesome! Finally made it to middle-aged. You coming over?"

"On my way now," I assured her, already hurriedly packing away the cleaning supplies as I hung up the phone.

I barrelled down the stairs and into the hallway, rushing to get my shoes and jacket on as fast as possible.

Beau, having obviously heard my hammering footsteps even through the whine of the vacuum, stuck his head out of the living room, a frown on his face. "Woah, hey, is something on fire? Where are you off to in such a rush?"

"Going to see Jules," I told him, looking around for the keys. "Can I have the truck?"

"Sure, keys are on the hook." He was still looking at me with an odd expression that I didn't have the time or the focus to unpick right now. "You're going right now, though? Have you even finished the bathroom?"

"Nearly," I promised, the words thrown over my shoulder as I made a beeline for the door. "I'll finish it later."

I was out the door before he could say another word. My dad, for his part, didn't seem the least bit surprised to find me racing past him down the driveway.

"I'm going down to the station later!" he called after me. "You two have dinner without me, alright?"

"We will," I yelled back as I clambered into the truck's cab and turned the key, the engine roaring to life. I barely paid attention to the way he shook his head at me, pulling away as fast as the decrepit engine allowed. I had just enough presence of mind not to exceed the speed limit until I was out of sight of the house; Charlie wasn't the sort of person who would shy away from issuing his own daughter with a speeding ticket just to make a point, even while off duty.

When I got to the Blacks' house, I made sure to park near the treeline to make transferring the bikes into the truck without being spotted a bit easier. Almost as soon as I got out of the cab, I realised Jules had had the same thought; they were already tucked into the shadow of a nearby spruce tree, hidden from any curious onlookers that might have been peering out of the windows of the house. I approached them slowly, utterly in awe at how the sad hunks of metal that Mrs Marks had insisted on throwing out with the lawn trimmings had transformed in under two weeks into the shining red and black beauties before me. Then I noticed the blue ribbons tied around the handlebars and started laughing.

Jules came jogging out of the house, grinning excitedly. "That was quick!"

I shrugged, my laughter finally subsiding. "I'm just eager to get started, that's all. What's with the extra decoration?"

"I said they were going to be our birthday presents, remember?" She smirked, then moved toward the motorcycles, her eyes glittering with anticipation. "Come on, let's go. I know exactly the spot to go to where we won't be seen."

I glanced reflexively back at the house, but there was no sign of Bonnie, and she didn't emerge while we loaded the bikes, careful to keep them on their sides so they couldn't be seen by anyone we passed on our way; I'd brought the tarp to cover them with as well, just in case. Jules did most of the work, but it felt better when I at least looked like I was helping.

Jules directed me south out of town, along a coastal road that was barely more than a dirt track and which kept diverting inland, surrounded by trees one moment and the next opening up to a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean, the water a brooding, sullen grey beneath the thickly gathered clouds, stretching out in unending miles to the distant horizon. The land dropped away little more than a yard from the side of the road in steep cliffs, the thin strip of pebbles that was First Beach just visible at the bottom. I kept my speed a little lower than I would have otherwise gone so I could safely admire the view without risk of going off the edge. Beside me, Jules was explaining the work she'd done to get the bikes finished, but the number of words coming out of her mouth that I actually understood was rapidly dwindling and she definitely didn't have all of my focus.

It was as we came around the bend and into view of the tallest cliffs overlooking the beach that I spotted four small figures standing on a rocky outcropping high above the water. They were too far away to see clearly, but the silhouettes were distinctly male and I was fairly sure they were dressed in nothing but shorts, despite the chill in the air. As I watched them, the tallest of the group moved up towards the very edge of the rocks. The truck slowed even further as I instinctually let off the gas, my foot poised over the brake pedal.

Abruptly, the man took two steps back, then ran forward and launched himself right off the edge.

"No!" I yelled out, slamming down on the brake and bringing the truck to a stop with a jerk.

Jules caught herself against the dash and looked at me, alarm in her face. "What? What happened?"

"Didn't you see?" I spluttered. "That man just jumped off the cliff!" I could hear the hysteria building in my voice as I scrabbled for my phone. "We have to call an ambulance! God, why didn't those other guys stop him?"

Warm brown hands closed over mine, stilling my frantic searching, and I looked up to find Jules smiling in amusement. I felt my forehead creasing into a frown, perplexed by her attitude and apparent lack of concern about the tragedy we had just witnessed.

"It's okay, Bella," she insisted, rubbing my hands in a way that was clearly meant to be soothing. "They're just cliff diving."

"Cliff diving?" I repeated disbelievingly.

"Sure. Lots of kids around here do it." She chuckled, though there was a bit of tightness around the edge of her eyes now, even as she teased me. "God, look at your face. I can tell you grew up never having to make your own fun."

I turned back to the group on the clifftop, just in time to see the next figure leap off in a graceful and controlled dive, his body like a knife cutting through the air. He fell at once very quickly and for a very long time, finally disappearing into the dark grey water with barely a splash.

"It's so far down," I murmured in astonishment, my eyes fixed on the two divers still waiting to take their turn. "How high is that cliff? It looks like at least a hundred feet."

"Something like that. Most of us go to that rock about halfway down, can you see?" She pointed to a much lower ledge that jutted out from the cliff face and did look like a more sensible height, although I was sure it would still be dizzying to stand on it and look down at the rolling waves below.

I quirked an eyebrow at her. "You do that too?"

She shrugged one shoulder, suddenly looking irritated in a way I hadn't thought was possible for Jules with her perpetually sunny demeanour. "From time to time, usually when the guys are bored. But like I said, we don't go up that high, and we'd never go on a day like today." She shuddered. "I mean, that water has to be arctic. But it would be just like those guys to want to show off just how tough they are by doing the big dive on a cold day." She shook her head, almost disapproving.

"Why do you do it?" I wondered. After all, there had to be less dangerous ways of entertaining oneself, even in a place like La Push.

"It's fun," she said, shrugging again. "Like riding a roller coaster or something, you know? That rush you get from just the right amount of scary."

Back on the cliff top, the third figure was moving back and forth across the edge as if trying to pick the best spot to leap from. A rush… scary but fun… this was the absolute definition of reckless and dangerous. A smile crept unbidden across my face. "We have to go."

Jules looked at me like I'd gone mad – which, to her credit, I probably had. "Weren't you the one just rushing to call an ambulance for Sam? Now you want to go follow him?"

"You said it was fun," I reminded her. "Come on, I want to try it."

I started to open my door, but she took hold of my wrist and held me firmly in place. "Okay, sure, but not right now, alright? It really is freezing today, it will be much more enjoyable when it's warmer."

The wind was coming in through the crack in the door, and it was indeed cold enough to make my skin prickle into goosebumps, even through my jacket. I quickly pulled the door shut again, conceding to her point. "Fine. But I want to go soon, okay?"

"Sure," she agreed slowly, not looking entirely convinced. "You know, there are moments I really wonder what's going on inside your head, Bella Swan."

It was just a bit too close to a phrase I had heard so many times before from a very different voice; I quickly squashed the memories that threatened to rip my chest wide open and did my best to sound flippant as I responded. "You and my brother both."

"We're not going off the top, mind you."

"Of course not," I agreed absentmindedly as I watched the third boy finally pick his spot and back up, almost out of sight, before charging at the drop and soaring several feet clear of the edge before he went into freefall. He turned over and over in the air like an Olympic diver, finally plunging in feet first. There was such freedom in the way he moved, and I could only imagine how it would feel – he definitely wasn't thinking about any of his responsibilities in the world beyond. There would be only the leap and the drop, the air and the impact.

"At least not the first time," I added quietly.

Jules heard me and sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Are we going to try these bikes out, or what?"

"Alright, alright," I agreed, reluctantly dragging my gaze off the last figure on the cliff. I'd never turned off the engine, and the idling was making it sound unhealthy again, so I revved it up a bit before setting off again.

"So, it sounded like you recognised those guys," I mused as we went, unashamedly nosy. "I couldn't tell who they were from so far off."

The sound that came out of Jules now was somewhere between a scoff and a retch. "The La Push gang."

I couldn't help sounding a little impressed. "Wow, you have a gang down here?"

My reaction made her laugh, and I liked that a lot better than the almost angry tone from before. "It's nothing exciting, unfortunately. I don't think they've ever once started a fight – in fact, it's the opposite. They're all about keeping things peaceful, like security guards… or hall monitors on steroids." She snorted derisively. "A little while back, there was this rumour going around that this big guy from out by the Makah rez was hanging around the school, trying to get the kids to buy pills and stuff like that. Sam heard about it and next thing we knew, he and his followers were squaring off against him, telling him to get off our land. That's their whole deal – our land, our tribe, Quileute pride, the whole bit. Honestly, it's starting to get kind of embarrassing. Worse part is, my mom and the rest of the council seem to be taking them seriously." She looked more upset about this than any of the rest of it. "Embry said he heard from Leah that they call themselves 'protectors', and they have meetings with the council all the time, like they're some sort of sanctioned tribal police force or something."

I was surprised to see her hands balling into fists at her sides and a look of real anger building. It was a whole new side of Jules, and not one I particularly cared for. Sam's name also brought me up short; it had to be Sam Uley, and my mind immediately began straying to the nightmare variant from last week, so I distracted myself before it could get too far down that line of thinking. "Sounds like you aren't too fond of them."

"How could you tell?" she snarked, the sarcasm thick.

I did my best to calm her down; her attitude was making my stomach feel uneasy, and I needed my happy Jules back. "It doesn't sound like they mean any harm. I mean, if they're chasing off drug dealers and saying they want to protect people… and your mom clearly thinks they're alright, or she wouldn't let them keep doing it, would she? Hardly seems like a gang at all, to be honest."

"They're just so annoying!" she seethed, not in the least bit settled and even getting towards whiny now. "That whole performance on the cliffs is typical behaviour for them – they're always showing off and acting like they're better than the rest of us. It's like… like they've got this obsession with proving how tough they are. There was this one time, must have been back in September or October… I was at the store with the guys, just hanging out, and along comes Sam, with Jared and Paul on his heels like always. Quil started running his mouth the way he does, and Paul didn't like that apparently, because he got all pissy and puffed up. I swear, he was shaking, that's how mad he was, and his eyes got all dark – he was even baring his teeth, like legit almost growling. Then Sam just put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head at him, and he calmed right down. Sam looked at us like we should be grateful, like he just saved us from getting torn to shreds or beaten to a pulp." She wound her hair around her hand, trying to look unaffected but clearly still bothered by the memory. "It was like a standoff in a really cheesy western. You've met Sam, and I'll admit he's a pretty intimidating guy, but he's got a right to be – he's twenty already. Paul's barely seventeen and not nearly as jacked as Quil, hardly even taller than me. The three of us together could probably have taken him easily."

"He was just showing off," I said. "Like you said, trying to be a tough guy." Jules had always been an excellent storyteller, and it was easy to see the scene she described. It also brought to mind a hazy memory that I usually tried to avoid, but which forced itself on me now – my living room, filled with anxious onlookers as Charlie, Beau, and Dr Gerandy fussed over me, and a trio of men, all tall and dark-skinned, standing against the wall and watching me carefully, one of them breaking off to glare at…

Stop it! I told myself firmly, keeping my focus on the men. If I had to remember, I would at least keep away from the really painful parts. One of the three had been Sam, so did that make the others his gang? His followers, as Jules had called them – Paul and Jared.

"Why is Sam still hanging out with teenagers?" I wondered, once again trying to keep my brain from wandering off to places I really didn't want to go to. "If he's so much older, I mean. Shouldn't he be in college or something?"

"That's the worst part!" Jules was really on a roll now. "He was all set to go and then suddenly changed his mind. And he didn't get any crap about it from anyone, either. There's this whole attitude all the adults have, especially the council – you have to get out if you can, go get an education and make something of yourself in the world, or else you bring that knowledge back for the good on the tribe. When my sister decided to get married instead of going to college, Mom got the entire council worked up into a frenzy over it, going on about how disrespectful and wasteful it was not to take the opportunity when she had a partial scholarship on the table. But it's like Sam's above that, like there's nothing he can do that will ever upset them." She made a sour face. "I think it's just because he's a guy, to be honest."

I hummed in agreement. "Yeah, that does seem kind of weird. And I can see why it would be annoying too. But… well, don't take this the wrong way, Jules, but you seem to be pretty concerned with all this when they haven't done anything to you specifically. Correct me if I'm missing something," I added hurriedly, hoping I hadn't upset her.

Far from getting more riled up, though Jules finally seemed to settle, her face smoothing over and her voice even as she said, "You just missed the turn."

"You might have told me," I grumbled under my breath as I swung the truck around, having to go so wide that half the tires went off the road and I almost clipped a tree; the driver's side wing mirror missed the bark by less than an inch. Once I was facing the other way, I could instantly see the turning I needed to take off to the left.

"Sorry, I got distracted," Jules said, and she did indeed sound distant and almost detached, like she wasn't entirely with me anymore.

We drove in tense silence for a few minutes, until finally Jules spoke again, soft and unobtrusive, and still far too reserved. "Stop anywhere here."

The road here was really nothing but dirt and mud, so I took a moment to find a spot that didn't have too many obvious puddles before I pulled over and cut the engine. After being surrounded by the roar of the beast for so long, it was almost oppressively silent once the noise stopped. We both clambered out and Jules immediately moved towards the back to get the bikes out. I watched her carefully, unable to keep from wondering what hidden feelings were festering behind her curiously blank expression. I'd known people before who shut down all emotion when they were feeling particularly upset – hell, I'd done it myself before. Something I had said had really bothered her, and I wished I knew exactly what the problem was so I could apologise properly.

She did smile, although it was small and lacked the energy of her usual wide grin, as she left the black bike standing on its kickstand and wheeled the red one over to me where I dithered by the side of the truck. "Happy late birthday. You ready for this?"

I eyed the bike warily; it suddenly looked a lot more intimidating than it had when it was in pieces or leaning up against garbage bags. The idea of actually getting on it was abruptly frightening. "I… I think so."

She let go of the bike, somehow keeping it upright with only one hand as she reached out to wrap her warm fingers around mine. "Hey, it's okay to be nervous. We'll go slow, and I'll be right here with you the whole time. We got this, right?"

She was more herself now, and her words and the way she rubbed her thumb across my knuckles did make me feel better. "Sure. Yeah, let's do this."

Jules guided my hands gently to the handlebars of my bike and made sure I had it steady before she let go and went to get hers. I gnawed on my lip, debating whether it was a good idea to bring the whole Sam thing up again or if I should let it go. Unfortunately, I hadn't made up my mind – or schooled my expression – by the time Jules got back to me, and she immediately clocked that something was off.

"Really, Bella, it's not as hard as it looks," she assured me, misinterpreting my look as nervousness over my riding lesson. "I'll be with you every step of the way, okay?"

"It's not that," I sighed. "I just… Jules, I can really tell that this whole Sam situation is bothering you. Not just the double standards and the attitude, but something else. Will you… will you tell me what's wrong? Please?"

I watched her face closely as I spoke. She didn't look happy, but she wasn't exactly mad, at least not with me. She looked down at the floor, scuffing her shoe through the dirt as she kicked the tire of her bike with a rhythmic beat.

Finally, she sighed heavily. "It's just… how they act around certain people. Me, Quil… a few of the other kids… it's creepy." She looked off into the trees, then suddenly her words began rushing out, like she'd been holding them back for a long time and now a dam had burst, letting them spill forth in a wave. "So the council is designed to stand up for the good of the whole tribe, right? And all of them are supposed to be equals. But there are some families that get more respect than others because of their history, and if anyone could be called their leader, it's my mom. My great-grandfather, Ephraim Black, was a bit like our chief, the last one we really had, and so I guess people pay attention to what Mom has to say because she's his granddaughter."

I nodded slowly. "That makes sense, I guess. But what does it have to do with you?"

"It's just that… Sam treats me the same way. Like I'm special, like there's actually anything about me that's different from anyone else." She shook her head, worry clear in her eyes. And something else too – something like fear.

I leaned my bike up against the side of the truck so I could hold her hands, mirroring the way she had held mine earlier and hoping that she took the same comfort. "I think you're pretty special, Jules. But I'm sorry that it's upsetting you so much."

"Thanks," she said gruffly, still kicking the tyre.

"What else?" There was obviously more to the story.

Her forehead creased in a deep frown, sadness beginning to overtake the anger. "Embry… he's been kind of… distant lately. It feels like he's avoiding me."

At first I couldn't see where the connection was, but I felt an overwhelming surge of guilt at the way I had been taking up so much of her time recently. "Well, you have been spending a lot of time with me recently."

She waved away my concern quickly. "No, no, it's not just me. He barely talks to Quil anymore, or any of his other friends. He missed a day of school, and then another, and all of a sudden he'd been gone for a week. Every time we went over to see if he was sick or something, his mom said he was out and she didn't know where he was. Then, when he finally came back, he was… I don't know, scared maybe. No, more than scared – he was totally terrified. Every time we asked him what was wrong, he wouldn't tell us anything.

I could tell that Jules was really afraid of whatever was going on with her friend. Her eyes were back on the floor again, watching her foot hitting the rubber over and over. The rhythm picked up, and she swung her foot harder, putting her frustration into the movement.

"Now this week," she went on eventually, her voice brimming with anger. "Suddenly Embry's part of the gang, too. He was with them earlier, up on the cliffs. He's right there on Sam's heels, walking around like he owns the rez and doing all that macho crap. I mean, he used to get even more annoyed at their attitude than I do, and now he's part of the cult. It was exactly the same with Paul too, when he joined up. He and Sam had barely ever said two words to each other, then he vanished from school for a couple of weeks and when he came back, suddenly it was like he thought Sam hung the moon. I can't understand any of it and I feel like I have to find the answer, because Embry's my friend and I need to help him… and now they're looking at Quil like… like he's next or something, like they're waiting for him to… I don't even know…" She trailed off, frustration finally taking over.

"Have you told Bonnie about any of this?" I asked, feeling the fear getting to me too; the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end. "I mean, if Sam listens to her, maybe she can talk to him, get him to back off."

That brought the anger back; she scoffed disgustedly. "Yeah, for all the good it did me."

"What happened?"

She imitated her mother's voice, her tone heavy with sarcasm. "'Don't worry about it, Julia, it doesn't concern you. Sam and the others are trying to protect us all, they aren't a threat.'" She dropped back into her own voice. "What do I do with that? It's like she doesn't even trust me anymore, like Sam is suddenly more important to her than her own daughter. And I want her to be right, if I'm being completely honest. But I just have this feeling in my gut that something is seriously wrong here." Her fingers tightened around her handlebars, and it looked like she was about to cry.

Without thinking, I threw my arms around her and pulled her into the tightest hug I could manage, given that her head was a good half-foot higher than mine.

"You'll be okay," I promised, knowing that if nothing else, I could be sure of this. "You can come and live with us if it gets really bad, alright? Charlie won't mind a bit, and me and Beau would love to have you, you could even transfer to our school if it would make you feel safer. We'll find a way through this, please don't be afraid!"

It took her a moment to hug me back, but when she did, her hold was tight and her voice when she spoke was fervent and thick with emotion. "Thanks, Bella. That… actually makes me feel better already."

It had been a long time since I'd been hugged like this. Even my brother tended not to get this close, always wary of setting me off. In fact, I was sure that the last hug we'd shared had been at the end of that first horrible week after everything had fallen apart, when I had crumbled and he had been the only thing holding me together. This was different; this was two friends, leaning on each other, finding strength in each other. Jules was warm and secure, and I could only hope that I was going some way towards making her feel as safe as she did for me. It was strange, but freeing in a way, to have this kind of connection with someone else; for so much of my life, I'd struggled to really relate to other people.

At least, other human beings.

I pulled back, not liking where this train of thought was taking me. I smiled, hoping she wouldn't take my retreat as a rejection. "Well, what's the good of having older friends if they don't occasionally come up with mature, reasonable solutions to problems?"

She smirked. "Hey, I'm in my forties now, remember?"

I rolled my eyes. "How could I forget?"

Jules rolled her shoulders back and shifted her expression back to the same old carefree grin. "So, are we riding or what?"

"Let's do it," I agreed, matching her smile and feeling the anticipation building. Finally, I was going to get my wish.

Time to be reckless.