Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just play with them. This story is rated M, and is not suitable for younger readers. Story contains violence, coarse language and sexual "situations". Please do not read if any of these things offends you.
Note: [Beta'ed by: blahblahblah & ElleCC]
Chapter 29 – "Push"
Edward Cullen POV
I should have been angry with her. I totally should have. I actually sat there, waiting for the anger to drown me and cloud my sight. It was just like the time when she had accidentally pushed me into that puddle of mud. But there was no anger. No anger what-so-fucking-ever. But the lack of anger wasn't what surprised me the most: it was the lack of surprise all together. I didn't feel even the slightest surprise when she admitted to standing her ground and not getting out of the way, even though she knew she'd had time. She had stood her ground because she wanted it. I wasn't surprised. Instead, it felt like she was just confirming something I had known all along. In the back of my head I had always known.
The accident wasn't my fucking fault.
And I wasn't angry about it. I should have been; it would have made more sense if I had been. But no, there was no fucking anger. All I felt was hopelessness.
What the fuck happened to her?
She almost killed herself tonight. If I had arrived just a few minutes later, she would have been dead now. Like real dead. Not just "shit, I'm going to die, I'm so damn hungover" kind of dead. But the real dead. Like, six-feet-under kind of dead.
It's funny how destiny works sometimes. It was as if I was meant to stop her or some shit. I was meant to help her. For the first time in my life, I actually had something important to do. I had to fucking save her from the demons that were haunting her.
But did I really have to, though? Or was this strange feeling I had the product of wanting to help her? But why would I want to help her? Swan was noth-
Finish that sentence and I will kick your fucking ass. Douche.
I groaned at the ridiculous thought as I kicked a pebble in frustration.
I had no fucking clue as what the hell I was supposed to do now. I was so damn confused. How could I even begin to help her when she didn't even want to help herself? And why should I help her? Why did I suddenly care whether or not she continued breathing?
Because whether or not you want to accept it, you've changed.
So…what now? Was Swan my buddy? Was that it? Was she like, my confidant or something? Was she my new Jasper? My new Emmett? My new everything? Who was she to me? And why did it have to change? Why couldn't she just continue being The Goose?
Because you hate that stupid nickname even more than you used to hate her.
And why the hell was that? Did she mean something to me now? Was that it?
Yes.
Why?
My mind was blank. My brain didn't answer me. It had no fucking answer. I was alone on this one. Thanks for nothing, damn good-for-nothing brain.
I sighed and thought of Sparrow. A small smile crept up my lips as I did.
Sparrow.
I could totally get used to calling her that. It fitted her. Sparrows were small birds, right? Small and fragile, but they could probably be ferocious if they wanted to be, and they probably had mad survival skills…
I snorted at myself and shook my head. What the hell did I know about birds? Nothing. For all I knew, sparrows might be one of those crazy-ass birds that laid eggs in other birds' nests and then eat their kids or some shit.
But still, Sparrow sounded a hell of a lot better than Goose. And I couldn't care less about whether or not they ate their young. It's not like she would do that just because I called her that.
Maybe Sparrows did eat their young – her mom fucking drank her blood, right? Maybe she was just having an appetizer before digging in on the flesh…
Fuck, that shit was so fucked up there were no words to describe it, and I knew there was more to the story than just that. I didn't know whether or not I would stomach hearing the rest. If the blood thing was the "easy" thing for Sparrow to tell me, then God knows what other fucked up things her mom had done. Sparrow had no one. Everyone she had loved had fucking stabbed her in the back… and drunk her blood…
That. That right there. That's why she means something now.
That her mother drank her blood? That's why she means something? Because her mother is a damn vampire?
No. Because she needs someone, asshole.
I nodded to myself. I couldn't fucking argue with that. She needed someone, and why the fuck couldn't I be that someone? Yeah, she might have been nothing but The Goose to me a few weeks ago. But shit had changed. She meant something now. Besides, Alice and Emmett couldn't help her. They might want to be there for her: Alice as her friend and Emmett her bodyguard. But they could not really be there, because Sparrow didn't trust them. They lost their chance at her respect and trust the day they proved that they cared more about her than about me. And I respected her all the fucking more for it.
I was going to have her back. I was going to be there for her. Shit had changed, and I was going to accept it. Sparrow needed me, and I fucking needed her alive. And this was what I had to do to make it happen. I was going to be there for her.
I could totally do that. I could do that without screwing anything up. I could handle this. I could prove to people I wasn't just some emotionless douche with no heart. I could do good shit too if I wanted to. I just never had a reason to do anything good before, because I never thought I had to prove myself to anyone. I thought people knew me, the real me. I didn't think that I needed to prove anything to anyone. But during these past few weeks I had been proven wrong.
People didn't fucking know me at all.
How's that for ironic? With all the friends and all the people surrounding me in my life, there was still no one that really knew me.
Fuck'em. I don't need'em. I don't need anyone…
… except Sparrow.
I didn't even cringe at the thought, for some reason it made me feel…good? Albeit, a little confused, maybe. But I would choose confused over fucked up any day.
It didn't take long for me to walk home; at least it didn't feel like it did. My mind had been too occupied with processing my new life's order to even notice that I was home until I walked up to the house. I was so lost in thought that I jumped in surprise when I spotted Dad on the front porch. He was sitting on the steps, watching me in silence as I neared the house, and when I did spot him, I almost crapped my damn pants.
"Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck are you doing sitting in the dark like that?" I snapped in annoyance and put a hand to my chest, feeling my pounding heart. "You scared the crap out of me!"
"Edward," he sighed. "I think the more appropriate question here is where the hell have you been?" He sounded so distraught and tired, and by the look of his hair, he must have dragged his hands through it in frustration more than once. The fact that he had used a semi-curse did not escape my notice, and I wasn't dumb enough not to realize that he meant business.
"I was out." I shrugged lazily, trying to act casual, as if it wasn't a big deal at all, when in reality, I was anxious to get the hell away from him. I was so fucking tired of pretending.
In more ways than one…
"Yes, I'm very well aware of that. And that's why I'm sitting here at"– he glanced down at the expensive watch that he had gotten as a gift at a hospital thingy a few years ago –"2:30 in the morning. Jesus Christ, Edward, what are you doing?" He wasn't asking about my whereabouts anymore, this wasn't even about tonight. This was about… everything.
"I was out, okay? What the hell do you want from me?" I asked, ignoring the fact that I knew what he had really been asking about.
"You know what I want," he said with a pointed look, which earned nothing but an eye-roll from me as I stepped past him, up the steps and to the front door. "Edward, do you want me to ground you?" It wasn't even a threat, it was just a lame last resort for him. He knew as well as I did that grounding me would do nothing. If I wanted to get out of the house, I would find a way.
"Why don't you send me off to Chicago instead? That will save you the trouble of grounding me." I snorted as I walked inside. Dad left his place on the porch steps and I almost expected him to follow me upstairs and bug me some more, but he made his way to the kitchen instead. I made it up the stairs and into my room, passing out on my bed as soon as my head touched the pillow.
The next thing I knew, my alarm clock was blaring at me and I reluctantly left the bed. I got dressed and ready for school before dragging my feet downstairs and to the kitchen to get something to eat. Mom and Emmett were sitting by the table; Dad was probably already at work. I made myself a sandwich, and Mom asked me if I wanted a ride. She frowned a little when I muttered a "no" before leaving the kitchen with my sandwich.
I rode my bike to school, and it didn't take me that long to get there – even though the bike ride was several miles long. I still had fifteen minutes to spare when I arrived. I had never been at La Push High before, and I snorted quietly at its pathetic size. The school only consisted of one building, and considering the size of the almost nonexistent parking lot, they didn't have many students.
I went to get my schedule and all that other crap they wanted you to read, like the school policy handbook and shit like that, before heading to my locker. It wasn't that hard to find since there was only one hallway with lockers and they were all numbered. There were exactly one hundred of them, which was nothing to me. I wondered if that meant the school only had one hundred students, or if some students had to share lockers. I had always thought that Forks High was a small-ass school, with its five or six hundred students, but I guess I was wrong. There were smaller and more pathetic schools. Like La Push. I knew there was a lot of shit in my life that I had taken for granted, but I never thought that the size of my old, stupid school would be one of them.
I thought about all the stupid paperwork we had been forced to go through for me to even be able to transfer to this stupid school. The La Push tribe had gotten bigger, and they couldn't afford to keep their old school running because of some serious repair issues. They sought help from the town of Forks, and we agreed to pitch in for the renovations. The newspapers said that it was about "helping keep culture alive" or some shit. And since Forks helped out, they made an agreement to let students from our town go there as well. Under the laws, it was called a Charter school or something, and it allowed for outside students to attend as long as they adhered to the laws of both the state and the reservation, as if you were some kind of immigrant. It was all fucking ridiculous. It would have been easier for me to just transfer to Port Angeles.
I made it to my first class and tried to ignore the looks people were giving me. It wasn't the curious kind of look people gave new people, instead they were looking at me like I was something their dirty, wet dog had dragged in or some shit, like I wasn't even worthy to go to their stupid-ass school.
Do they think I want to be here? Bitch, please.
When I entered my first class, I almost thought I had the wrong room. The room was ridiculously small, with only fifteen seats that formed a semi-circle in front of the blackboard. It felt like I was in one of those "special needs" classes. Did they think I was retarded? Had they even read my transcripts? I may not have had A's in every class, because I hadn't really bothered with it, but even so, my old teachers had known I was fucking smart. So why the hell would they put me in a special needs class?
Turns out… they hadn't. This wasn't a special needs class. It was just a regular class in a charter school. Apparently, there were only fifteen people in my grade, and the school wasn't just for high schoolers, it was for junior high, too. Fifteen was considered a lot for a class in this school.
I took the seat by the end of the semi-circle, by the windows, and watched the other students as they took their seats. Soon, our teacher walked in; he was a middle-aged guy with long, black hair pulled back into a ponytail. According to my schedule, his name was Mr. Ateara.
"Welcome, class, I see we have a new student today. Welcome," he said with a somewhat clipped tone and without letting his gaze linger on me for too long. I quirked an eyebrow at his obvious hostility. "Let's get started with today's class, shall we?" People opened their notebooks, and he sat down on the edge of his desk. I sighed and turned to a blank page of my own notebook.
"Thanksgiving is behind us and we all know what that means…" Mr. Ateara said with an amused smile, "… Quileute Appreciation Week."
The others students leaned forward in their seats as if they wouldn't dare miss another word. Quileute Appreciation Week? And the people at Forks thought I was a self-centered douche- bag? I leaned back in my seat and waited for Mr. Ateara to continue with what I assumed was going to be the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard.
I was correct.
Quileute Appreciation Week was apparently a yearly occurrence. It always took place the week after Thanksgiving. They read their stupid legends and analyzed them to pieces. It was never said, if there was going to be a test on all that shit at the end of the week, but I wouldn't be surprised if there were. They really took that shit seriously.
I doodled in the margins of my notebook as the other students scribbled down whatever Mr. Ateara said. I thought I wasn't going to give a crap, but as he started talking about a few legends, I found myself listening in…
"… of course, Quileute women have always been searching for the cure for aging. Nukpana has not been the only one trying. And women learned from her mistakes," he said.
"What happened to the other woman? Did she have her baby?" a girl asked.
"Yes, she did. She gave birth to a son, and Chunta couldn't have been happier. The line of Chunta's son leads us directly to Ephraim Black. Whom we all know." Mr. Ateara smiled, and the others nodded.
"My mom used to tell me about this legend when I was a kid," another girl said, "but she never said anything about Nukpana going to another tribe for help."
"Why yes, this legend exists in many different versions, but the intent is always the same. Nukpana wanted eternal youth and beauty, as well as a child. And it was her greed that became her downfall," Mr. Ateara explained. "Many of our most popular legends have been passed down through generations, and of course some details change with time, but the point behind the stories remains the same, just like the legends of future bonds…"
The girls giggled as they leaned forward in their seats, and the guys just rolled their eyes. Mr. Ateara chuckled again, and I couldn't help but wonder if I was missing out on a private joke or some shit.
"My mom says you can't affect who becomes your future bond. Is that true?" one of the girls asked, and Mr. Ateara did a semi-shrug-nod motion.
"Yes and no. If there is a legend that speaks about you and your future imprint, then no. But if there is no such legend, then yes," he replied.
"What the fuck is an imprint?" I blurted without thinking. All eyes shot to me. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights by the way they were all glaring at me. All except one girl at the other end of the semi-circle. She was just smirking coldly.
"An imprint is what we call the people who the legends speak of," Mr. Ateara explained with a tired voice. I could almost feel him rolling his eyes in his mind. "Some couples were destined to be together, and those people are called imprints."
"Like… soulmates?" I asked dumbly.
"Yes, I suppose you could say that," he said, and the girls actually did roll their eyes at me now. "But an imprint is so much more than that." I didn't ask him to elaborate. I figured I had already asked too much. Why would I care about their stupid legends anyway? "As I was saying," he continued, "an imprint can't be changed. If it was destined to be, it will be. You can't change destiny."
"What happens when you've found the one?" the girl asked. "When can you do the bonding ritual?"
"The bonding ritual can't be done unless both imprints are older than fourteen, and it's very important that the girl is pure," Mr. Ateara said and shot me a tired look, as if he thought I was going to ask what the hell he meant. "Pure means that the girl is not allowed to have had any sexual relations with anybody. It's not enough that the girl is a virgin," he explained while looking straight at me, even though I hadn't asked him to elaborate.
"What exactly does a bonding ritual entail?" a small girl asked.
"Blood is drawn from both imprints, and it's blended with a few herbs that are only grown here on the reservation. The blood needs to be drawn during a new moon, and the elixir that is created is to be drunk by both imprints during a full moon, and it will bond them and their families together forever…"
"So, what happens if the girl is a dirty slut?" I asked with a smirk. Mr. Ateara shot me an irritated look, and a couple of the girls gasped at my question.
"If the girl happens to be impure, she simply has to go through a cleansing ritual," he replied.
"Which entails…?" I prompted. He sighed deeply again and shook his head slightly before answering me.
"The girl has to stay at our sanctuary, the House of Quileutes, and she may not see sun or go outside for a month. Blood is drawn from her every day, and she's not allowed to eat or drink anything but water, a special kind of bread and blood from her imprint. This purifies her contaminated body, and once the thirty days are up, she will once again be pure."
"That's stupid. So what happens if the guy is 'impure'?" I asked, rolling my eyes at the stupid word. Mr. Ateara didn't seem to enjoy my mockery considering the look he gave me. The guys snickered at my comment.
"A guy can't be impure, stupid," a guy said as he nudged his friend, who cracked up laughing.
I quirked an eyebrow and looked at them incredulously. Where they serious? Yes, by the looks of things, they were serious. Were they living in the Stone Age or something? I may have treated girls poorly in the past – and in the present – but at least I wasn't living in some delusional world where I thought that guys could do no wrong and the girls were to blame for everything. Just because a girl decided to have sex before marriage, or whatever they did in this crazy-ass place, she had to be locked up in a house for thirty days and practically starved to death?
How the hell was this legal? It was fucking crazy.
And Sparrow was a part of it all…
No wonder she hated Jacob Black and La Push. No fucking wonder, indeed…
We were stuck in that damn classroom for the entire morning. Mr. Ateara told us more legends and showed us some slides with drawings of the most famous ones. I didn't make another comment for the rest of the lesson. I didn't see a reason to. I doubted they even realized how crazy they all sounded. They actually believed in all this crap. They thought all of it was real. So no matter how much I mocked them, they wouldn't give a crap.
The girl who sat at the other end of the semi-circle in the classroom kept looking at me with emotionless eyes. But it didn't feel like the cold was directed at me personally.
I was beyond relieved when we were finally allowed to leave for lunch. Some dude from the class pushed me on the way out, and I glared at him.
"Really, shithead? Are you in the fifth grade or something?" I snapped at him. He laughed darkly and pushed me forward again.
"You better respect the rez, or we'll make your stay here more miserable than it has to be," the guy replied. I snorted at his antics and walked away. But apparently he wasn't finished, because he shouted after me. "You have no business being here! You messed with one of ours when you almost killed her!"
I stopped and turned around slowly. "Excuse me?" I asked.
"The girl you ran over, Isabella Swan? She's one of ours. You almost killed her. That stuff doesn't fly with us," he said menacingly. "If I were you, I would watch my back." He pretended he was pulling back an arrow from an imaginary crossbow, and sent the invisible arrow my way. I smirked humorlessly and stepped aside, as if it was really coming for me.
"I'm not afraid of you, douche," I said before turning my back on him.
The line to the cafeteria was short, and I soon realized why. None of the shit they served here looked like food. The dishes had weird names, and they were probably Quileute specialties. I wondered how many virgins they had drawn blood from to make half of it. I shuddered at the thought.
I bought the only thing that looked even remotely edible. A damn sandwich.
I paid for it and a bottle of water before finding an empty table in the back of the small cafeteria. I let my eyes wander as I sat down, and my eyes almost immediately found a target.
Jacob fucking Black.
I recognized him immediately, even though I had only seen him once, from afar. He was sitting a few tables away with a few of his friends, laughing and talking like he wasn't the biggest tool in the box. I didn't know the guy – I'd never even spoken to him – but he still made my blood boil and made me see nothing but red.
And I still didn't know the full story of what he had done.
What the fuck was that about?
"What did the Golden Boy do to deserve that look?"
I turned my head and found myself looking at the girl from class. She was smiling in amusement, but her eyes were still a little too cold. She sat down beside me at the table without another word, and I looked back at the other table.
"So, did he piss you off or something?" she asked as she removed the lid from her container of salad.
"It's all relative," I replied slowly. "The guy messed with a fr-friend of mine." I almost choked on the word, and I realized it was the first time I had acknowledged her as that out loud. Things are changing, indeed…
"I'm not surprised," she said, rolling her eyes. "Jacob is a screwed up kid. As is his entire group… see that tall guy at the end of the table?" She pointed with her plastic fork, and I nodded. "Yeah, that's Sam Uley. He used to be my boyfriend."
I groaned inwardly. Of course. Her boyfriend. This was a woman scorned; she didn't hate these people because they were insane, she hated them because Sam was her ex. Of fucking course. She noticed my change of demeanor and huffed.
"Don't look at me like that," she said, apparently offended. "This isn't about me being a pathetic, whiny ex-girlfriend. This is about him being a complete idiot. He actually believes in these stupid legends… they all do."
I scoffed and shook my head incredulously.
"They believe in all that crap? Seriously? I was kinda hoping our class contained the only idiots."
She smiled and shook her head.
"No such luck. Those guys over there think they're so special because they're under the impression that some of the legends are about them. That's why Sam broke up with me… because the legends said that the boy of U belonged with the girl with lines… or some crap like that," she said, snorting. "Some legends were written by five-year-olds, I swear to God."
"'The girl with lines'? What the hell does that even mean?"
Her lips twitched into a dark smirk.
"My cousin, Emily. She was attacked by a bear when she was a kid. It almost ripped her face right off. But instead, she ended up with five scars right down the side of her face… and Sam thinks she's the one the legends are talking about."
"That's shitty. What about that Jacob punk? What do the legends say about him?"
"Oh yeah, Jacob," she said, shaking her head and smiling as if enjoying a private joke. "From what I hear, the pack thinks that the legend about the swan is about him…"
I don't like the sound of that…
"The Swan?" I echoed, my voice ringing oddly in my ears.
"Yeah," she said, stabbing a piece of tomato with her fork and bringing it to her mouth. "He's convinced that Chief Swan's daughter is his soulmate."
"Don't you mean imprint?" I mocked with a singsong voice.
"Touché," she chuckled girmly. She held out her hand and smiled crookedly. "I'm Leah, by the way, Leah Clearwater."
I took her hand and smiled softly. "Edward Cullen."
We both turned back to our food. I took a bite of my sandwich at the same moment I saw Leah freeze beside me from the corner of my eye. I quirked an eyebrow at her before following her gaze. I noticed quickly what the cause of her reaction was.
A girl had walked into the cafeteria, and I didn't need to be told who she was. A girl with lines indeed. Emily's entire face was dominated by those five line; I wondered how anyone could ever look past them.
But her face was not what held my attention as she got closer. It was her arms.
She was dressed in a tight, short-sleeved top, that left her arms bare. Everybody could see them – and the deep cuts and scars that covered them. I had seen arms like that before. Sparrow had arms like that. The only difference between the two was that even from this distance, I could tell that Emily had both fresh and healed cuts, as if she was in the process of getting more, and she wasn't afraid to show it. It was as if it was something to be proud of.
"Please explain her scars to me," I croaked.
Leah looked at me, confused. "I just did? A bear attacked–"
"I'm talking about her fucking arms," I cut her off through clenched teeth as I felt anger surge through me again. This was the anger I should have felt when Sparrow had told me she could have saved herself from the accident if she had wanted to, but instead I felt it now because I was angry for her. Not at her.
Leah's face softened, and the side of her mouth lifted into a sad smile.
"She's in the process of being bonded to Sam… it takes awhile. They've been doing that to her since this summer…"
"How much fucking blood are they drawing from her? I thought they just needed enough to blend together with his shit and some herbs and that would be it?" I asked confused.
"Yeah, well, what Mr. Ateara didn't tell you is that the bonding ritual is more than just that… The girl needs to be marked, and everyone in her new family and her old family has to help to mark her… Her arms are supposed to be a sign to other men that she is taken and that she is not to be touched. If another guy so much as hugs a girl that has been marked, the guy risks being banished from the tribe."
"You do realize how fucking crazy this all is, right?" I asked. "This can't be legal."
Leah snorted quietly. "Of course I know this is fucking crazy, I'm not an idiot. And don't ask me about the legality of the whole thing. They have the authorities wrapped around their fingers."
"You're saying they know what's going on here?"
"I tried to file a report once… but they didn't care. Jacob's family rules this town. Ephraim is a legend all on his own around here."
"Bu what about the police department in Forks?"
"What happens on our land stays on our land. Their police have no say in what happens here, which is why it's so scary that Ephraim's descendents have so much power… When I called a week after filing my report, in order to get an update on what was going on, I was told they had no record of me ever reporting anything. They had made it all go away. That was the first and last time I ever tried to do anything about it. You can't trust anyone."
"Is everybody this crazy about the legends?"
"No, they're not," she said, shaking her head with a light laugh. "Most people don't really believe them, they just consider them a nice little touch to our history. They retell the legends as stories, not as the truth. But then there are the crazies who think that every legend holds the truth and that we should all do our best to uncover all the secrets – The Blacks, Uleys, Calls and Atearas are amongst those who do. Their families have always been the ones tried to convince people that the legends are real and should be taken seriously… But no, most people don't believe all this crap."
As if on cue, Jacob turned his head to us and looked me straight in the eyes. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he gave me what I assumed was supposed to be a superior look. He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, smirking darkly at me. He nudged the guy sitting next to him and nodded towards me. Soon they were all looking at me and Leah.
"Are they supposed to be the popular crowd in this place?" I asked without tearing my eyes from Jacob.
Leah sighed and nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. Mostly because of Jacob and his family."
I stared at Jacob for the rest of lunch – another ten minutes – while silently wishing there was a legend that would allow me to cut his fucking throat and see the blood squirt out like a fucking fountain without getting punished for it.
He was the reason Sparrow was broken inside and out. He was the reason she hadn't gotten out of the way. He was the reason she was defeated. He was the reason both our lives were fucked up. I was going to kick his fucking ass. It was all his fucking fault.
The afternoon classes mirrored the morning ones. Mr. Ateara shoved more legend propaganda down our throats. Apparently, I was stuck with him for the remainder of the week… and beyond. He was going to teach all of my classes except for P.E.
Just my luck, getting stuck with the one teacher who actually believed all the crap he was spewing.
I pretended I didn't give a shit, even though I secretly soaked up every word he said. I wanted to know more about the legends and how they were connected to Sparrow. If I knew what legends the Blacks thought were about her, or what legends could be used against her, it would be easier to save her. To protect her. To have her fucking back.
Just like I'd promised.
Yes, I admit. When Mr. Ateara had mentioned the purity part, I had let my mind momentarily drift to the possibility of just popping her cherry myself… but then when he'd said that she'd have to be locked up for thirty days and drink some filthy mutt's blood, I'd realized it might not have been the best idea.
Then, I had gotten creeped out for even thinking it. Wasn't it enough that I considered her my… friend now? Did my mind really have to assault me with mental images of fucking her, too? Just because she was my friend now didn't mean I had to fuck her. I didn't fuck Alice and Rose, right? And they were my friends. So why should Sparrow be any different?
Sparrow wasn't even all that attract- I snorted at myself and shook the thought out of my head without even finishing the sentence. School was not the time for me to ponder whether or not Sparrow was attractive or good-looking enough to be considered fuckable. That shit was wrong on so many levels.
I thought I had hit some kind of milestone when I had finally admitted that she meant something to me now, and that whatever we had was not something that was just going to blow over. I thought that admitting it would keep my mind from spinning with all the denial. But instead, the only thing that happened was that I had opened another door altogether, which gave me a new crapload of weird thoughts to figure out.
So all I could do now – since I couldn't fucking hide behind my wall of denial anymore – was figure out a way to save her. If I focused my attention on that problem, I could easily ignore all the other stuff that didn't matter.
By saving her, I could save myself too.
Finally, school ended, and I could get the fuck out of there.
I made it to the parking lot, and as I unlocked my bike, Jacob walked passed me and purposely knocked into me.
"What's your damage?" I snapped at him. He scoffed and took a step closer, his face barely inches from mine.
"You should count yourself lucky that you made it out alive today," he growled in my face. "You almost killed Bella. How the hell do you live with yourself?"
I smirked darkly at him as I narrowed my eyes. "It's very easy to live with myself, thank you for asking," I replied coolly. "And how do you live with yourself… since you almost killed her, too?"
His face fell and he gaped at me.
"Wh-what? I never did that!" he spluttered, and I chuckled grimly at him.
"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't," I replied calmly and pushed him away, just enough so I could get my bike out. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to get the fuck out of here."
He shot me a somewhat confused and cautious look before walking toward the parking lot. I jumped on my bike and followed him with my eyes, but didn't pedal away just yet. I watched as a familiar woman threw her arms around him and gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. When she pulled back, I recognized her.
It was Sparrow's mother.
A guy was standing by her side with his arm resting loosely around her waist. I knew I recognized him from somewhere, but I couldn't for the fucking life of me place his face.
Sparrow's mother was smiling brightly at Jacob, and he was saying something to them. Her smile faded as she and the guy looked over Jacob's shoulder, right at me. As soon as I met her gaze, I felt my skin crawl and goose bumps erupt all over my body. She looked fairly normal, but her eyes were insane. Even from this distance, I could tell that they were crazy. There was no other way to describe them. I could see how the guy's grip around her waist tightened, as if she was the one who needed protection from me and not the other way around.
She quickly put an arm around Jacob's shoulder and pulled him toward a car. I watched them go before pedaling home on my bike.
The rest of the afternoon and evening dragged like a fucking bitch that refused to leave. I had decided that I wasn't going to take no for an answer from Sparrow. I was going to ask her about her mom and Jacob, and I was going to demand the whole story. No excuses or withheld details. I needed to hear the full story from her. I fucking deserved to know.
Whatever happened to Sparrow was the reason she was even out there in the woods in the first place, and that was the reason I had hit her. So of course I deserved to know. I deserved to know why my life had been thrown upside down.
But most of all, I wanted to fucking understand. I wanted to fucking understand what in the world Sparrow thought was worth dying for, and what exactly her mother thought she would accomplish by drinking her blood. And what the hell was the Chief's problem?
I wanted to understand why my life had to be fucked up. Why did I have to suffer for other people's shit? And why did Sparrow have to suffer? What the hell had she done to deserve it?
Karma was a bitch. I guessed this was me getting my punishment for being such a douche to people, but what the hell had Sparrow done? As far as I knew, she was a fucking saint.
She didn't deserve it… and neither did I. Not really. Being a douche in high school didn't warrant getting your life being fucked over. Where was the balance? Just because I was a douche, I suddenly deserved to run someone over and be abandoned by my friends and family for it? Was that how karma worked? You did something wrong, and got something even more wrong handed to you. Was that how it worked?
Fucking karma.
Mom and Dad asked me how my day had went, and I humored them by telling them about it. Or maybe I was humoring myself. That stupid crap about the legends was eating me up inside, and it bugged the hell out of me. Mom didn't like the sound of things when I told her about Mr. Ateara, and she wondered if La Push really was the place for me. I didn't tell them about the shit with Jacob, because I had a feeling I might slip up and say something about Sparrow, and I sure as hell didn't need to deal with that right now.
By telling them about the other shit, maybe that would get them off my damn back a little. Maybe they would think I was beginning to trust them with my issues or some shit, and that way I might gain some more space. The very last thing I needed right now was to have them pay even more attention to me, since it would most likely come back and bite both me and Sparrow in the ass. And the only one allowed to bite her in the ass was me.
So you're going to bite her ass now, huh? I thought you were a boobs-man.
Fuck. You.
Mom and Dad got to bed early. I stayed downstairs and watched a movie with Emmett. We were still somewhat awkward with each other, but it was starting to get better.
"She hit Tanya with her crutches today," he said suddenly. I looked over at him in confusion and saw him grinning in amusement when he saw my face. "Bella. She hit Tanya with her crutches. Jasper told me all about it. Tanya even broke her fucking heels. I would have paid to see that shit go down." I gaped at him and he chuckled.
"Spar-Swan did that? Seriously? What the hell for?" I asked, not able to hide my curiosity.
He shrugged. "Jasper didn't catch the whole thing, but apparently Tanya was spewing crap about you visiting her last night and making love to her or some shit, and for some reason that pissed Bella off and she smacked her right in the leg. Fucking epic!"
I tried to contain the smile that wanted to escape.
Sparrow hit Tanya because Tanya was spewing crap about me… interesting…
"But is it crap, though?" he continued. "I mean, you have been sneaking out of the house… so are you sneaking out to see Tanya? I thought you were done with her."
I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.
"Sweet mother of God, Emmett. Fuck you, of course not," I protested, shuddering as I did.
"Yeah, thought so." He nodded. "I highly doubt anyone would go to her for comfort willingly. That bitch deserved to get her ass kicked. Not because she talked shit about you, but because she fucking pushed Bella again." All the humor had disappeared from his voice, and I clenched my fist in my lap.
"Did she pass out again?" I had to force myself to keep my voice light and carefree, as if I didn't really care, when in reality I was fucking boiling inside. Emmett shook his head.
"Nah, I think she learned her lesson the last time," he joked half-heartedly. Suddenly, his face broke into another smile. "She even called Rose a bitch. It was fucking hilarious. That girl can show some serious attitude if she just puts her mind to it. I don't understand why she doesn't have any friends; she's awesome!"
"Maybe because she doesn't like people? Or maybe because people haven't given her a chance? Maybe she likes to be alone," I muttered, turning my eyes away. I felt him give me an odd look, but he didn't say anything about it.
"Your head is so far up your ass you can taste your own brain," he said calmly. "It's because people like you never gave her a chance."
"Oh please," I scoffed. "I don't remember you bending over backwards to become her friend until after the accident. So who the fuck are you trying to kid? You're no better than me."
"Yeah, but sometimes serious shit needs to happen before you finally have a reason to open your eyes and realize that shit is fucked up. But apparently your head is still so far up your butt than it doesn't matter if you open your eyes or not – you're still blind as a fucking bat," he retorted.
"Hypocrite," I muttered.
"At least I'm trying to do the right goddamn thing. What are you doing? Nothing. You just run away in the middle of the night to random people because you can't fucking handle being in your own head. You always look for distractions because you can't handle yourself. Maybe you should take Dad up on his offer and get some fucking help." Those were his parting words. He stood up and left the living room without looking back or waiting for a response.
That was just as well. I was tired of having the same conversation with him over and over again.
I glanced at the clock on the wall, and saw that it was almost eleven p.m. Finally. I quickly turned off the TV and ran upstairs to grab my jacket and keys. I decided to take my bike to her, since it would be a hell of a lot quicker. I didn't even try to be all sneaky about leaving the house; they all knew I was going to leave, so there was no reason to pretend otherwise. This was easier anyway.
I made it to Sparrow in no time.
I hid my bike behind some bushes a few houses from hers before sneaking up to her window. I was momentarily confused when I saw that the window was partly opened already.
What happened to the nails?
I didn't know if I dared to look in. What if it was a trap?
I peeked inside and immediately spotted the chair against the door. Safe.
Sparrow was sitting on her bed, her eyes closed and her lips pursed. She was hugging a pillow to her chest as if her life depended on it. I wondered if she even realized that the window was open.
I knocked softly on the window before pushing it open, but she didn't even flinch. I climbed inside and closed the window behind me before sitting down on the bed. She didn't move then either.
I smiled crookedly and stroked a few stray strands of hair from her face. She was sleeping.
Her breathing was a little uneven, and she was frowning a little. I put my finger between her brows to smooth out the soft line there. It disappeared almost instantly. She took a shuddering breath and opened her eyes, blinking a few times before meeting my gaze.
"Jesus, Sparrow, you couldn't even stay awake long enough for me to get here?" I chuckled and I felt her relax beside me.
She rolled her tired eyes at me. "Shut up," she groaned with a yawn.
I chuckled again as I made myself more comfortable on the bed.
"So I heard you finally grew some balls," I noted.
"Yeah, says who?" she asked, yawning again as she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.
"Emmett."
"Yeah? And what did he say?" she asked, now sounding a little cautious as she let her hands fall to her lap.
"He told me you kicked the crap out of Tanya and made her break her ridiculous fake designer shoes." I smirked, leaving out the reason why she did, silently hoping she would tell me the story herself.
"All in a good day." She shrugged. "How about you? How was your first day back?"
I sighed deeply, feeling a little disappointed that she didn't choose to elaborate on her day first, but decided to let it go. I took one of her hands in mine and began tracing her fingers with my own. There was some weird comfort in that. It felt nice holding her hand.
She relaxed even more and leaned her head against my shoulder. I glanced down at her, and I felt myself relax when I saw that she had closed her eyes. It made me smile. For someone else, this might not have seemed like a big fucking deal, but for the two of us, it was.
Maybe it was a fucking sign. Maybe she would trust me enough tonight.
"The people on the reservation really take their goddamn legends seriously, don't they?" I asked quietly.
"Wh-why would you say that?" she stuttered awkwardly, pulling her head back up and opening her eyes.
"Quileute Appreciation Week, or whatever the fuck they call it." I sighed. "All we're doing this week is reading and hearing about their stupid history. It was so fucking boring I almost wanted to stab myself with a goddamn pen just to get the suffering over and done with."
"You're so melodramatic," she teased.
"Says the girl who could have jumped out of the way, but didn't," I replied without missing a beat. She looked away from me and brought her bottom lip into her mouth. I knew what I had said was a low blow, but it was the fucking truth. And we needed to be able to say the truth without having to worry about stepping on toes. Or else this shit would never work. "Do you know a girl named Emily from La Push?"
She nodded hesitantly. "If you're referring to Emily who got attacked by a bear, then yes; she's friends with Jacob."
"Yeah… but the two of you have more in common than just a friend," I said quietly, pulling up the sleeve of her shirt. She didn't fight me at all. "She shares your scars, too. The only difference is that hers consist of both newly cut ones as well as healed ones."
I looked up at Sparrow's face and saw that she was pale as a ghost.
"They're… they're actually doing it to her," she whispered, mostly to herself, even though she was looking at me.
"Yeah, they are… and she was walking around showing off her scars like they're something to be proud of, but I don't fucking get it; it's like all the people at that damn place are fucking insane. And according to Leah, Jacob Black's family is one of the crazier ones." I sighed deeply and tried to squish down the anger that threatened to boil over at the mere mention of it.
I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. She was looking at me when I opened my eyes. I leaned my head towards hers and our foreheads rested against each other.
"I'm so fucking sorry, Sparrow, for fucking everything, but I'm so damn confused I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Help me understand; please, just tell me what the fuck happened to you. What did they do? I promise you that I won't think you're crazy. I know what crazy is, and that is the shit I encountered today. People thinking they can gain eternal life by drinking blood, or that you can purify someone by locking them up for a month; that's crazy. You're not. So please, Sparrow, tell me; what the fuck happened to you?"
She took a deep, shuddering breath, and exhaled slowly. Her breath washed over my face, and I was momentarily dazzled by it. It was a nice combination of mint from her toothpaste and… Isabella.
"I need some fucking answers," I pleaded.
"Yes… No… To get to the other side…" she joked with a sad, quiet chuckle, and I couldn't help but chuckle sadly, too. At least she had some humor left.
"I'm afraid, Edward," she whispered. "I'm not afraid that you'll think I'm crazy… I'm afraid of what will happen when the truth comes out… what will happen to me."
"I won't let anything happen to you, I swear to fucking God. I have your back," I whispered back.
"You don't need to… you don't have to," she protested weakly.
"I want to."
She leaned back so she could look me properly in the eyes. I smiled crookedly at her, trying to show her that it was okay. It was all fucking okay. It was just the two of us now. She could tell me.
"I trust you, Edward," she said quietly, and it felt like my heart skipped a beat from the simple words. I felt an odd – but pleasant – feeling wash through my entire being, almost a feeling of relief… but stronger. Better. I didn't know what the hell the feeling was, but I liked it. I liked it very fucking much.
"I trust you, too, Sparrow," I said just as quietly with a soft smile. I grabbed her hands and held them both in mine. I gave them a gentle squeeze, and I could see in her eyes that she had made her decision. She was going to tell me.
"Just promise me one thing," she said.
"Anything."
"When I'm done telling my story… please don't tell me it wasn't my fault." I frowned and opened my mouth to protest, but she pulled one of her hands back from mine and put her finger to my lips to shush me. "I don't want to hear it. I've lived with this secret for months now. I don't want to hear it wasn't my fault. You can tell me anything, as long as you're not telling me that. Can you promise me you won't say it?"
I nodded reluctantly, and she removed her finger from my lips.
"I promise I won't tell you it wasn't your fucking fault." I sighed. She smiled softly and nodded.
"Okay, well… where do you want me to start?
"The beginning."