Chapter Four: Change
The wind was sharper now, biting at my skin as I sat behind Jacob, clinging to him for balance on his motorcycle. The roar of the motorcycle filled the silence between us as we sped down the narrow roads toward La Push. The cool wind tugged at my hair, whipping it back, and the scent of damp earth and pine trees flooded my senses. I clung to Jacob Black, my hands resting hesitantly on his waist. The bike was fast, faster than I was used to and every curve of the road made my stomach lurch, not from fear, but from something else I couldn't quite place. Something that had nothing to do with the ride itself.
Jacob was a stranger, in many ways, and yet something about being close to him felt strangely familiar, like I'd been here before, like this connection between us wasn't new at all. I couldn't ignore the growing ache in my chest, or the way my pulse quickened every time he glanced over his shoulder, his brown eyes catching mine for a split second before returning to the road.
Was it the wind? Or was it the fact that we were together now, finally together even if it was only on this motorcycle ride that I didn't quite understand yet? But right now, my thoughts were tangled up in Jacob Black. The bike hummed beneath us, the engine growling through the misty air, and I wondered what he was thinking.
The ride to his house had been mostly quiet, the only sound the rush of air in my ears, the sharp scent of the wet earth, the lingering smell of gasoline. I had been acutely aware of his body just in front of mine, the warmth of his back beneath my hands, the shift of his muscles with every turn of the handlebars.
The bike rumbled under us as we turned into a long driveway, and suddenly, we were there, Jacob's house. The engine died with a low growl as he brought the bike to a stop. The stillness that followed was almost too much to bear, the air thick with something unspoken. I blinked, trying to get my bearings. There was a moment where neither of us said anything. It felt like we were both waiting for something, or maybe trying to decide who was supposed to break the silence first.
"Here we are," Jacob said first, swinging his leg over the side of the motorcycle and dismounting. He turned to face me with a small, awkward smile, clearly unsure of how to proceed now that we'd arrived. I stood up too, legs wobbly from the ride, and forced a grin to hide my unease. I had to remind myself that I didn't have to figure everything out right now, not here, not today.
Jacob's house was a simple one, a small wooden place resembling a tiny barn that faded with age with its dull red paint chipped and peeling in places. The roof sloped downward with an easy kind of simplicity, and a narrow wooden wheelchair ramp ran alongside it, leading to the front door. The windows were small and narrow, like the house had been built with the intention of being hidden away from the world.
It didn't look like much, but there was something comforting about it, like it had seen its fair share of laughter, tears, and everything in between like the kind of house you might expect to find tucked away on a quiet reservation. The ramp creaked under our feet as we walked up, and Jacob opened the door, revealing a modest living room. It still felt like a place people lived, breathed, and loved.
Jacob glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyes a little brighter than usual, his lips quirking up in that half-smile that seemed to make my heart race. "So... uh, welcome to my place," he said awkwardly, as if he hadn't quite planned what to do next.
I nodded, unsure whether I should say something, anything. My mouth felt dry, and I couldn't decide if it was the air or something else that was making me so uncomfortable. It didn't help that I kept thinking back to that dream I'd had—the one where the woman in the veil had killed him. Edward's warning echoed in my mind, sharp and clear: "You have to stay away from a man named Jacob Black."
But how could I stay away from Jacob? How could I resist the pull between us when he made me feel like the world was just a little bit brighter whenever he looked at me?
"Well, come on inside," Jacob said, breaking me out of my spiral. He gave me a little wave and then led the way into the house.
I stepped inside tentatively, my eyes drifting over the space. The air smelled faintly of cinnamon and clove. The walls were adorned with old photographs and what looked like various pieces of hand-carved woodwork, things that gave the house an unmistakable sense of history and personality. The furnishings were mismatched with an old couch that looked well-worn, a few chairs gathered haphazardly around a coffee table, and a wooden bookshelf filled with an assortment of books. I noticed how warm the house felt, the kind of warmth that seemed to seep into your bones. It wasn't like the cold, damp chill of Forks, it was comfortable, familiar. It wasn't big, but it didn't need to be. It had that homey feel to it, like the house had been here forever, weathered by time and love.
"This is it," Jacob said, shrugging a little, as if he didn't think much of the house. "Not much, but it's home."
He gestured with his head for me to follow him and I obeyed. We passed a small bathroom and one door that I assumed was a bedroom, but Jacob stopped at the last door at the end of the hall, the one at the farthest corner, and pushed it open.
"Welcome to my domain," he said with a grin, stepping aside so I could walk in first.
I stepped into his room, and it immediately felt like Jacob had thrown a bit of himself into every corner. It was the kind of room I had imagined—a place where he could just relax, do his thing, without having to worry about making things perfect.
It was definitely a guy's room. The walls were painted a dull blue-grey, the kind of color that made the room feel cozy, like a cave you could retreat into. A bed sat against one wall, covered in a few mismatched blankets and pillows, some of them thrown carelessly onto the floor. The sheets were wrinkled, like they hadn't been changed in a while. Above the bed was a collection of old posters—motorcycles, muscle cars, and a few classic rock bands I didn't recognize, their faces plastered in faded ink.
A stack of books sat on a small wooden dresser, the pile clearly disorganized, a few books falling over like they didn't care to stay standing. On top of the dresser were a few more things: a couple of picture frames with photos of his family, a trophy of some kind (probably from one from playing sports or winning a contest, I figured), and a small lamp that cast a soft yellow glow across the room.
The floor was scattered with clothes—t-shirts, jeans, sneakers—and there were a few tools tossed here and there, a wrench and screwdriver lying on a desk cluttered with papers and old car magazines. Near the window was a small guitar, resting in a stand. A surfboard leaned against the far wall, it's waxed surfaces gleaming slightly in the light.
"Not much," Jacob said, but the way he shrugged as he walked past me made it clear he didn't care about what it looked like. It was just his space.
I nodded, not the least surprised by how much it felt like him. "It's cool," I said, leaning against the door frame and looking around. "Definitely your style."
Jacob looked at me for a second, then gave a small, crooked smile that barely touched his eyes. "Yeah," he said, voice low. "Guess it does the job."
I chuckled softly. "Doesn't need to be anything else, right?"
His eyes flickered to mine, the faintest spark of amusement flickering in them. "And what about you?" He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. "What's your room like?"
I hesitated for a moment, eyes drifting toward the floor as I thought about how to describe it. "Well, it's... pretty nerdy," I admitted with a small, self-deprecating grin. "Gray walls, posters everywhere, sci-fi stuff, fantasy, and anime. All the classics, I guess. The bed's right across from the TV, so I can just... collapse in front of it whenever. Got a ton of games, all stacked up on the stand. Bookshelves full of comics and manga. And, uh...that's it." I said plainly.
Jacob let out a small laugh, and it was warm, easy, something in it made the air feel lighter. "Sounds like a place I'd like to see."
I smirked, shifting my weight slightly. "Oh, yeah? Well... it'll cost you."
Jacob raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a grin. "Cost me? What, you want to charge me for a tour?"
I shrugged playfully, my eyes glinting. "Maybe. You've gotta earn it."
Jacob laughed, a quiet rumble in his chest. The sound made something inside me flutter, an unexpected warmth, a kind of electricity that buzzed through the air between us. He shook his head, still smiling. "Alright, alright, I'll earn it. What's next? Do I have to solve a puzzle or something?"
I gave him a teasing glance. "You'll find out when the time comes."
His eyes softened for a brief moment, and I noticed how much lighter he seemed when he wasn't hiding behind that easy grin. But then, like always, he shrugged it off. "Guess I'll just have to wait," he said, turning toward the door.
I pushed myself off the frame and followed, the quiet hum of anticipation still lingering in the back of my mind. As Jacob walked out first, I felt that familiar tug in my chest. The sense that I was standing on the edge of something, but I didn't know what yet.
The living room was a few steps away, and Jacob paused just outside his door, glancing back at me. "Come on," he said, his voice soft, but there was something unspoken in it.
I nodded, my heart still caught in the slipstream of the moment. "Right behind you."
One we get back to the living room, Jacob gestured for me to sit on the couch, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, his posture stiff. The awkwardness between us was palpable now. We'd ridden together on his motorcycle, but now, standing here in his home, it felt like there was a chasm between us, a distance I wasn't sure how to cross.
"Uh… sorry," Jacob muttered, glancing around the room as if searching for something to do. "I didn't really plan for what we'd do once we got here. Normally, it's just me and my dad." His voice trailed off a little at the end, as if he wasn't entirely comfortable with the situation.
I gave a small laugh, trying to ease the tension that had settled like a weight between us. "It's okay. I wasn't really sure what to expect either." I could feel my cheeks burning a little. I didn't want to sound too awkward, but there it was. The truth. I had no idea what I was supposed to do, or how I was supposed to act, in a place like this, with someone like him.
Jacob shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, we can just… hang out, I guess?" he suggested, his voice rising slightly as if he were unsure of what to say.
"Yeah," I said, nodding a little too eagerly. "Sounds good."
There was a moment of silence, where neither of us quite knew what to do. The awkwardness hung in the air, thick and suffocating. I could feel myself retreating into my own thoughts, unsure of how to bridge the gap between us. The warning from Edward, the one he'd given me not to trust Jacob, crept into my mind. "You have to stay away from a man named Jacob Black." The words felt like a shadow hanging over me, an unwelcome voice in my head that I couldn't silence.
But then, there was the strange pull between Jacob and me and the way he made me feel alive in a way I hadn't felt since before the accident. My father's death still sat heavy in my heart, but when I was with Jacob, it was as though the grief momentarily faded, replaced by something I couldn't name. It was a dangerous feeling. But it was also comforting.
"I used to spend a lot of time here, you know." I said, trying to fill the silence, trying to find a way to connect with him. "At La Push beach I mean. With my dad."
Jacob's eyes softened for a moment, his lips pulling into a slight smile. "Yeah? That's cool," he said. "I can't really remember my mom much since she passed when I was little, but my dad's always been into cars and bikes. I kind of grew up around it." He paused, looking a little lost in thought for a moment, as if the memories of his mother were too painful to delve into. "I guess it's something to keep me busy."
I felt a pang in my chest at the mention of his mom. I couldn't imagine losing a parent like that, especially at such a young age. I had my father's memory with me every single day, but at least I still had those memories, however fragmented and painful they were. I didn't want to push him further on it, though. It felt too raw.
Instead, I asked, "You ever think about doing this for a living? Like, working on bikes, or restoring them?"
Jacob's gaze flickered toward the door, his lips curving upward in a more genuine smile this time. "Yeah, sometimes. It's just... a way for me to keep my mind busy, y'know? I'm not sure what I want to do with my life yet. But I like working with my hands." He got up and turned toward the doorway, his expression lighting up. "I'll show you the garage. It's where I do most of my work."
I followed him outside, my footsteps soft on the worn wood of the ramp and the air still thick with the smell of wet earth and the faint scent of gasoline. The garage was made of a couple of large preformed sheds that had been bolted together, the walls knocked out to create a larger, more open space. It was tucked away behind a thick stand of trees and shrubbery, hidden from the house, but not too far to be inconvenient.
Inside, the air smelled of oil and dust, the sharp tang of gasoline mixing with the earthy scent of the outdoors. There was a motorcycle and old car parts scattered across the floor, shelves full of tools, and the faint hum of a radio playing in the background. It was the kind of place that felt alive, even in its quietest moments. The motorcycle halfway done parked against the far wall along with a car in the center, a red Volkswagen rabbit, half-dismantled with parts strewn around it like a puzzle that was still in the process of being solved.
Jacob leaned against the motorcycle, his fingers tracing the edge of its frame. "This one's a work in progress," he said, his voice soft and thoughtful as he talked about the bike, his hands moving with practiced ease. I watched him, completely entranced by the way he moved, his confidence, his ease. There was a warmth about him, an energy that made everything around us seem brighter.
I realized then that I was more than just fascinated by the motorcycles. I was fascinated by him and by everything he was, by the way his presence seemed to pull me in like gravity. I hadn't expected to feel like this. I hadn't expected to be drawn to him so completely. But here I was, standing in his garage, watching him, and all I could think about was how much I wanted to be closer to him.
Our conversation turned quiet for a moment as I tried to find the right words. I wasn't used to this, this closeness, this intimacy, however small.
"So, what about you?" Jacob asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "What do you want to do?"
I hesitated for a second, unsure how to answer without sounding like I was bragging. Talking about my future wasn't something I liked to do too much. It was a mix of nerves and pride, pride for what I'd accomplished, but also that weird feeling of being unsure whether I truly belonged in the world I was aiming for. The world beyond Forks.
"I, uh... I want to be a graphic designer," I said, keeping my voice casual. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my hoodie, avoiding his eyes. "I've been accepted to Harvard, actually. I'm going to get my bachelors degree in art there, and then I'm planning on going to Yale for my masters degree. Graphic design, painting, all of it... it's just, kind of what I've always loved."
The moment I said it out loud, it felt like I'd said too much. The words were heavy in the air between us, even though I was trying to brush it off like it was no big deal. I hadn't thought too much about how it would sound until now, or how Jacob might react. I was aware of him in a way that made the rest of the world feel distant, like I was alone in this small space with him and only him. It felt like everything was suddenly more real, more permanent, and I wasn't entirely sure how to deal with that.
There was a long pause, and then Jacob's voice broke through, this time laced with awe. "Wait. Harvard? And then Yale?" He said to me, eyes wide, and I saw the shock on his face, quickly followed by something else. "Max, that's... that's huge." He let out a small breath, clearly impressed. "I mean, Harvard? Yale? Two Ivy League schools? That's not just big. That's... amazing."
He didn't even try to hide the surprise in his voice, and for a second, I felt almost uncomfortable with the way he was looking at me, like I was too much of a dreamer, like I wasn't supposed to be here.
I felt my chest tighten at the sincerity in his tone. My stomach did that fluttering thing it always did whenever Jacob's attention was focused on me like that, intense, searching. I shifted uncomfortably, wanting to shrink away from it, even though the words were warm, even though I knew I shouldn't brush them off. The praise was nice, but it was overwhelming too. I wasn't used to being the center of attention, especially not for something like this. I tried to shrug it off, making my voice nonchalant, even though I could feel my cheeks burning. "It's not a big deal," I muttered, my eyes flickering toward the floor. "It just kind of happened, you know? They liked my portfolio and—"
"No," Jacob interrupted, his voice cutting through my words. There was no hesitation now, just a quiet strength that made me look up, meeting his eyes.
He was standing closer now, just a few feet away, and I could feel the heat of his gaze like a weight on my skin. He stepped forward, his presence undeniable, and I suddenly felt like I was holding my breath again. His words hit me with a force I wasn't prepared for. "Don't downplay it, Max." His voice was firm, his words deliberate. "Getting into one Ivy League school is a huge deal, let alone two. You've worked your ass off for this. You've got the talent, and you're going places, big places. Don't sell yourself short. You're going to do great things outside of this small town, I know it."
His words wrapped around me like a blanket, but I couldn't figure out how to deal with the heat rising in my chest. I was burning under his gaze, under his belief in me. I swallowed hard, suddenly unsure of how to respond. The truth was, I didn't know if I believed it, even though I was trying my best to. But hearing him say it, so sincerely, made something inside me stir. Something I wasn't sure I could put into words.
I tried to look away, but something about the way Jacob was looking at me made it impossible. His eyes were soft, but there was an unwavering certainty in them that made me believe, even if I wasn't sure I was ready to believe in myself just yet.
I cleared my throat, trying to mask the flush of embarrassment creeping over me. "Thanks," I managed, the words barely above a whisper. My cheeks were hot, my pulse was erratic, and my throat felt tight. "I... I don't know if I deserve that kind of praise, but it means a lot coming from you."
Jacob smiled, a small, genuine smile that reached his eyes and made something inside of me stir, something deeper and softer than I wanted to admit. He took another step closer, so close now that the air between us felt almost electric.
"You do deserve it, Max. Trust me." His voice was quiet but unwavering.
I looked at him, and for a moment, the garage around us seemed to disappear. The walls, the tools, everything. They all faded into the background. It was just me and Jacob, standing there in this moment that felt... rare. Intimate. And suddenly, it wasn't just the future I was uncertain about. It was the way he was looking at me, like he really believed in me, like he saw something I hadn't even seen in myself yet.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. The weight of his words, the sincerity in them, had me feeling lighter, almost weightless. And for a moment, I allowed myself to believe him. To believe in myself. To believe that maybe, just maybe, I was more than the guy from Forks. That I could be something... bigger.
"Yeah, well," I said, trying to shake off the sudden warmth that had made me feel like I was floating."I guess we'll see."
Jacob gave a quiet laugh, low and easy, and the sound settled somewhere warm in my chest. "We will," he said. "And I have no doubt you'll do great things, Max."
The air between us felt thick with the unspoken things. I didn't know what to say next, or what I was even supposed to feel, but I knew one thing for sure.
I was glad I had Jacob here, with me, in this moment.
"So... do you plan on going to college?" I asked before I could stop myself. The question felt natural, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. I wasn't sure why I felt so nervous, but there was something about Jacob that made me want to know everything, to understand what he wanted for his future.
Jacob hesitated for a moment, then gave a little shrug, his expression softening as he gave a faint, almost nervous laugh. "Yeah, well... I don't know," he said, running a hand through his hair. "College? Not really my thing. I mean, I've never been big on the idea of sitting in a classroom for another four years."
His voice was light, but there was a certain weight behind it, like he was trying to convince himself it was okay. Maybe he was, or maybe he just needed someone else to tell him that it was. I could see it in the way his jaw tightened slightly, the way he fiddled with a wrench, picking it up and putting it down again.
I leaned back against the car, trying to ignore the way my heart sped up when I noticed the faint flush creeping up his neck. His easygoing, confident demeanor was cracking, just a little, in front of me.
I could feel the words bubbling up before I even realized I was thinking them.
"Jake," I said quietly, using the nickname without even thinking about it. It felt right, somehow. "That doesn't make you a loser."
His eyes snapped to mine, a mixture of surprise and something else. Something softer flickering across his face. "What?" He chuckled awkwardly, the sound coming out a little too forced. "I mean, it's the truth, right? I'm not exactly... university material."
I shook my head, despite the voice in my head telling me to play it cool. "No," I said firmly. "You're not a loser, Jake. And going to college doesn't make me or anyone better than you."
His eyes softened, just for a second, but I saw it. The way his lips twitched, the way his shoulders relaxed just a little. He didn't say anything at first, so I kept going.
"I may not know you that well, but... I can tell you're someone who does good, Jacob," I said, the words flowing more easily now, like they were something I had to say. "People who make a real difference don't always need a degree or a fancy diploma to do that. You've got something a lot of people don't have, integrity, and heart. That's more important than any school."
I could see his eyes widening slightly, his cheeks darkening with that same blush from earlier. For a second, I almost thought he might say something, but then he just looked down, running a hand through his hair in that way he did when he was trying to hide how affected he was.
"Thanks, Max," he said, his voice quieter now, softer, and there was something vulnerable in it that made my chest tighten. "I... I didn't expect you to say that."
I swallowed, my own heart racing as the silence stretched out again. The words felt heavier now, as though saying them had opened something between us that neither of us was quite ready to face. But I didn't regret it. Not for a second.
I stepped closer, closer than I had before, my breath shallow as I took in the faint, warm scent of his skin. There was something... comforting about the way he stood there, slightly hunched over, almost like he was waiting for something.
Something unspoken. Something we both could feel but neither of us could say out loud.
"It's true," I said, voice barely a whisper. "You don't need a college degree to be amazing, Jake. You're already more than that."
He looked at me then, his eyes darker than before, but the hint of a smile still playing on the edge of his lips. There was something there, something unspoken but understood between us.
And maybe, just maybe, it was more than just friendship.
"Well, I'll take your word for it," he said, his voice teasing again, though there was a softness in his tone that made my pulse flutter.
I smiled back, my heart hammering in my chest. "Good. You should."
The air between us felt different now, charged, as if the words we'd shared had lifted some invisible weight. I wanted to reach out, to say something else, but the moment felt fragile, like if I moved wrong, it might slip away.
Jacob seemed to consider something for a moment, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth like he had an idea he wasn't quite ready to share. Then, with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes.
"You know," he started, his voice lighter, "since you're still here in Forks, I could teach you how to ride a motorcycle if you wanted too."
I blinked, taken aback. "What?" My mind was still processing, trying to catch up with the sudden shift in conversation.
Jacob chuckled at my confused expression, clearly enjoying the reaction. "Yeah, you know. I mean, why not? Plus," he added with a smirk, "it's fun as hell."
I hesitated, glancing from him to the gleaming motorcycle parked a few feet away. A lot of things came to mind, but none of them were exactly good ideas. "I'm... not sure that's such a good idea," I said cautiously, a small laugh escaping my lips as I ran a hand through my hair. "I mean, it's probably not the safest thing for me to be anywhere near a road on a motorcycle."
Jacob's grin widened, and he raised both hands in mock surrender. "Don't worry. I promise I won't let anything happen to you. I'm a pro," he said with exaggerated confidence. "Besides, it'll be fun. And if you crash, well... I'll take care of you."
I blushed and couldn't help but laugh at his reassurance, though I still felt unsure. The idea of getting on a motorcycle, something so fast, so open, was both thrilling and terrifying. But there was something in Jacob's tone, in the way he looked at me, that made me feel like I could trust him.
I stared at the motorcycle for a moment longer, then sighed, a reluctant smile creeping onto my face. "Well, I'll try not to break anything, at least."
Jacob laughed, a warm, full-bodied laugh that made my chest feel lighter. "Deal," he said, clapping me on the back. "Don't worry about breaking it. I've got extra parts. I'm more worried about you getting bored halfway through."
"Yeah, sure," I muttered, still not entirely convinced, but something in me wanted to see where this went. Besides, if I was going to try it, I couldn't think of a better person to learn from than Jacob.
He led me over to the half-finished motorcycle, the black frame of it looking sleek under the dim light of the garage. The engine was just about put together, the tank missing only a few small parts, but it already looked like something that could go zero to sixty in seconds. Jacob crouched next to it, as comfortable as if he'd been born into the mechanics of it.
"Alright, first thing's first," Jacob began, straightening up and turning to me. His hands were already on the bike, showing me how to steady myself. "You've gotta get used to the clutch, throttle, and brakes. It's not like a car, where you just put it in gear and go. You have to control everything yourself. But don't worry, I'll guide you through it."
I nodded, watching closely as he explained the basics, his voice steady and patient. Every now and then, I'd ask a question, usually something dumb, but he never made me feel stupid for asking. He was just... there, answering with that easy confidence that made me feel like I could do this.
After a while, I felt more comfortable around the motorcycle, well, less nervous, at least. Then Jacob moved behind me, his presence so close I could feel the warmth of him, even though he wasn't touching me yet.
I held my breath as he reached around me, his hands brushing mine as he grabbed the handles. The contact was light at first, but I could feel his fingers curl around the metal, just inches from my own. My pulse spiked, and I had to force myself not to stiffen. Jacob's touch, soft, yet firm was enough to make my heart skip a beat.
"Here," Jacob said, his voice low, his breath brushing the side of my neck as he gently took my hands in his, guiding them to the grips. The way he moved behind me, the way his hands covered mine... it wasn't just about teaching me how to ride. It was something else, something that had my stomach flipping. Something that made my skin burn, even as I tried to keep my attention on the bike.
His hands lingered on mine for just a second too long, and I could feel his fingertips tracing over my skin, like he was committing the sensation to memory. The world seemed to slow as we stayed there, close together, my heart racing in my chest.
I felt him shift, his body pressing just a little closer to mine, and I could have sworn I could feel the beat of his heart too, thumping in time with mine. I could hear the soft rustle of his clothes, his breath warm against the back of my neck. It was like everything else, everything outside this small bubble we'd created faded away.
Then, without even thinking, I turned my head just slightly, and for a moment, our eyes met. His gaze was intense, dark, but soft at the same time, like he was seeing right through me. His lips parted, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking the same thing I was. What if?
My stomach flipped again, my heart hammering in my chest. Time felt like it was stretching out between us, the quietness of he garage filling the space, but somehow everything else felt so loud. I felt the pull of it, the weight of the moment, the way he was standing so close, the way his hands were still holding mine, guiding me, teaching me, but also... something more.
He was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen.
I swallowed, the air thick in my throat, and for a split second, I thought maybe, I don't know, maybe he'd lean in, that maybe I'd close the distance between us, but the moment shattered like glass when Jacob's hands finally slipped away from mine.
"Alright," he said, voice just a little rougher than usual, and I was almost relieved to feel the cool air between us again. I quickly turned my attention back to the motorcycle, my hands still tingling from his touch. The warmth of his presence was still there, though, lingering in the space we'd shared, and my heart was racing like I'd just sprinted a mile.
I glanced down at the handles, feeling a rush of heat climb up my neck. God, I was blushing. I hadn't even noticed, but my face felt like it was on fire, my chest tight with something I didn't know how to name.
Jacob, thankfully, didn't seem to notice or if he did, he didn't say anything. He just stood next to me, looking down at the bike, like he was giving me space to breathe again. But I couldn't shake the feeling that we had just crossed some kind of invisible line. It wasn't just about the bike anymore. It was something else, something bigger than either of us were ready for.
"Okay, now that you've got the grips," Jacob said casually, like nothing had happened, "let's talk about the throttle."
I nodded, trying to steady my racing heart. "Right. Throttle," I repeated, my voice betraying none of the turmoil inside me. I kept my focus on the bike, even though all I could think about was the way his hands had felt on mine, the way we'd almost...no. I just shook the thought out of my head and put my focus back on what he was teach me.
"So," I said, trying to hide my nervousness behind a slightly joking tone. "When do I get to take it for a spin? You know, assuming I don't fall flat on my face."
Jacob laughed, that rich, deep laugh that always made my stomach flip in the best way. "We're not quite there yet," he said. "But don't worry, I'll let you take the reins soon enough."
We worked through the basics for another half hour, Jacob talking me through each step like a patient teacher, smiling every time I made a tiny breakthrough. It was strange, the way I felt about him, his presence so easy, so reassuring. It felt like we were doing something simple, something normal, but underneath it all there was that undercurrent I couldn't ignore. The tension that made the air feel a little thicker every time our hands brushed or our eyes locked for just a beat too long.
The sound of a car engine revving outside pulled me out of my thoughts, and Jacob froze, glancing toward the garage door. He sighed, giving me an apologetic look as the sound of tires crunching on the gravel grew louder.
"That's my dad," Jacob said. "Guess that's the end of our lesson for today."
I nodded, a little disappointed but also grateful for the time we'd had. It was hard to explain, but in that short time, I'd felt like I was getting to know him better—maybe in a way I hadn't expected, but definitely in a way that felt important.
Jacob wiped his hands on his jeans, then flashed me another grin, this one a little softer, like he was amused by something I hadn't quite picked up on yet. "Next time, I'll let you actually try it out. Maybe even take a ride around the block."
I chuckled, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "Guess I'll have to survive that first, huh?"
"Don't worry," he said with a wink, and started walking outside. "you'll do great."
I followed him, the cool evening air rushing past me, but I hardly noticed it. My thoughts were still swirling, caught somewhere between what had just happened in the garage and the strange flutter in my chest whenever Jacob was near.
We walked over to Jacob's dad truck, which was parked in the driveway. The truck was accessible wheelchair vehicle, with a ramp that led up to a space for Jacob's dad wheelchair. I watched as Jacob easily opened the door, then leaned inside to speak with his dad, his voice low and calm. There was something about the way Jacob moved around his father, gentle, sure and almost protective that made me feel like I was witnessing something deeply personal.
His dad was heavyset, his face deeply wrinkled with age, but it was a kind of weariness that came from years of life, not bitterness. His russet skin was dark and smooth, a stark contrast to Jacob's. His black eyes, though, were sharp, intelligent, observant. He had a presence about him that I couldn't quite place, but it was enough to make me feel like I was stepping into something larger than just a simple introduction.
Jacob bent down slightly, offering his father a hand, and after a brief exchange, Billy gave him a nod. Jacob helped Billy out of the truck, easing him carefully into his wheelchair, his movements practiced and fluid. The intimacy between them was evident. It wasn't just about physical care—it was something deeper, a quiet understanding between father and son that made me feel like an outsider in the best possible way.
"Max, this is my dad, Billy," Jacob said, his voice casual but warm as he introduced us. He paused, letting me take in the sight of Billy in the wheelchair, and I couldn't help but feel a little humbled by the way Jacob was with him.
I stepped forward, a little hesitant but determined to be polite. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Black," I said, extending my hand.
Billy gave a small, crooked smile and took my hand in his, his grip strong despite his age. "Nice to meet you, Max," he replied in a deep, gravelly voice that had a warmth to it. His black eyes held mine for a beat too long, but there was no judgment in his gaze, just something that made me feel like he already knew more about me than I was ready to share.
I felt a wave of relief pass over me as I noticed the genuine kindness in his face. He seems like a nice man, I thought, getting an immediate sense that Billy was someone you could trust. It was the kind of vibe that made you feel welcome even if you didn't know him well.
"So, what have you two been up to?" Billy asked, turning his head slightly as he surveyed the garage. He seemed more interested in Jacob's tone than the actual activity, as if he already knew the answer.
Jacob didn't hesitate. "I was just showing Max the garage. Teaching him a little about the bikes."
Billy smiled knowingly, his eyes flicking over to me. But then, for a split second, the smile seemed to soften, almost like there was a hint of something unspoken in it. A knowing look that sent a strange, electric feeling through me.
I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it felt like Billy was looking at me with more understanding than I was comfortable with. Like he was in on some secret I hadn't even realized existed.
Jacob shifted uncomfortably, his hand resting on the back of Billy's chair, as if trying to subtly steer the conversation elsewhere. "Just the garage," Jacob repeated, but Billy didn't seem to be listening as much as he was focusing on something else entirely. Something that seemed directed right at me.
Billy's eyes flicked between us, and his smile deepened. A smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. He glanced back at Jacob, a small nod of approval. "You two have a good future ahead of you," Billy said, his voice low but steady. His words so deliberate, so strange, that my stomach flipped.
The way Billy said it was like he knew something I didn't, a kind of foretelling, in any way that was comforting. It was cryptic, like a prophecy that felt a little too close for comfort. I wasn't sure how to react. I glanced at Jacob, whose face immediately flushed, his eyes going wide with embarrassment.
I couldn't hide the confusion in my expression. "Uh… what do you mean?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.
Billy chuckled softly, the sound rumbling low in his chest. "You'll understand soon enough." He turned to Jacob then, his face softening slightly, but there was an unreadable look in his eyes. "Just take care of him, son. You never know what's around the corner."
I blinked, feeling my heart rate increase as the weight of Billy's words sank in. I turned to Jacob, searching for some explanation, but he looked almost... mortified. Jacob shifted uncomfortably at his dad's words, and I caught the brief flicker of something, embarrassment? Or maybe frustration across his face. His lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes darting toward me quickly before he shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to mask whatever it was he was feeling.
"Dad," Jacob muttered, his voice tight. "Let's not get into it, okay?"
Billy didn't respond to that, just gave a small nod as if he understood exactly what Jacob meant. He met my gaze one last time before he said, "Take care, Max. I'll see you around."
"Thanks, Mr. Black," I managed, trying to push past the awkwardness. "It was nice to meet you."
Billy gave one last smile before he wheeled himself toward the house, and Jacob gave me an apologetic look, as though he was sorry for the uncomfortable moment that had just passed.
Jacob was already stepping forward, hand outstretched toward me. "Come on," he said, his voice soft, apologetic. "Let's get out of here."
I followed him without a word, feeling like I was being swept along by the current of something too complicated to understand just yet.
The ride back was quieter. The sound of the motorcycle's engine hummed beneath us, but the tension between us felt thick, suffocating. Jacob seemed distant, lost in thought, and I couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with his dad's cryptic words. I didn't know why, but the whole situation made me uncomfortable. Billy Black's strange way of looking at me, the heavy silence that had followed his departure. It all hung over me, making my heart beat just a little faster than it should.
I wanted to ask Jacob about it, what Billy meant, why it seemed like Jacob was so uncomfortable with it, but I didn't. I wasn't sure if it was something I should push. Instead, I kept my thoughts to myself, letting the wind rush past us as we sped down the road. The rhythmic thrum of the engine beneath us did little to ease the unease in my chest. I wanted to ask Jacob about us, about what this growing pull between us meant, but I wasn't sure how to voice it. There was too much uncertainty in the air, and I wasn't sure if it was just the awkwardness of the situation or something deeper.
When we reached my house, Jacob didn't immediately pull up to the curb. Instead, he idled at the end of my driveway, his eyes staring straight ahead as if trying to figure out what to say. It was strange, the way the silence stretched between us felt... loaded.
"Hey," Jacob finally spoke, breaking the silence, his voice low. He turned toward me then, his expression unreadable for a moment before his lips twitched into a faint smile. "Sorry about my dad back there."
I shook my head quickly. "Don't worry about it. He's fine." I didn't know why I said it that way, like I was trying to convince myself more than anything else. But I was being honest. Billy had said something strange, but I didn't think he meant any harm. It just felt... off. But maybe that was just me.
Jacob looked relieved at my words, but there was something else in his eyes too. A flicker of something deep and unreadable. "Yeah, he... he's got a way of making things feel weird sometimes." He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze drifting to the side. "He just cares, you know? Sometimes, he has a way of saying things that don't come out right."
I nodded, not sure how to respond to that. "I get it," I said softly, not wanting to push him. After all, it wasn't my place to dig into whatever family drama Jacob had.
There was another silence, but this one didn't feel as heavy. Jacob looked at me again, his eyes meeting mine, and for a brief moment, I felt like there was something unspoken between us like a question that hung in the air, unanswered, but understood.
"I had a really good time today," I said, feeling the need to say it, to let him know that despite the awkwardness, despite everything, I'd enjoyed being with him.
Jacob's smile was genuine this time, and I felt a rush of warmth at the sight. "Yeah? Me too," he said, his voice softening. He glanced at the handlebars of the bike as if deep in thought. "We should hang out again sometime. Maybe... maybe we can actually plan it next time, y'know?"
I laughed, the sound a little nervous, but it felt good to laugh around him. "Yeah, I think we should definitely plan it. I'll—" I hesitated for a second, unsure whether I should say what was really on my mind. But then, the words came anyway. "I'll look forward to it."
Jacob's smile widened at that, and for the first time since we met, it felt like everything was falling into place. Like this was the start of something.
"Alright," he said, looking down at the ground for a brief moment, then back up at me. "I guess I'll see you soon, Max."
"Yeah," I replied, my voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach. "See you soon."
I was about to turn toward the house when Jacob called my name again, and I turned to face him.
"Hey, take my number." he said, and we exchanged phone numbers. "Call me if you want to hang out, okay?"
I nodded quickly, my heart beating faster. "I will. I promise."
Jacob's expression softened. "Alright, take care of yourself, Max."
"Thanks," I said softly. I turned away, walking up to the porch, but I couldn't help but glance back over my shoulder. Jacob was still there, watching me with that faint smile that seemed to say everything without actually saying anything at all.
I stepped inside, the door clicking softly behind me. But even as I closed it, the warmth of his presence lingered, the quiet weight of the day settling in my chest.
It was Monday, and the halls of Forks High felt like they were closing in on me. The weight of the weekend and everything that had happened between Jacob and me, and the questions that followed and lingered in the back of my mind as I walked through the crowded hallway. My shoes clicked softly against the linoleum floor as I made my way to the cafeteria, but all I could really think about was the space between me and Jacob.
I hadn't seen him since Friday, when we'd hung out in his garage. Afterward, we'd spent most of the weekend texting, but it wasn't the same. Not by a long shot. Our messages had been light, funny, almost like we were trying to fill the silence between us. Jacob had said he was busy with something personal, but he'd never elaborated. I'd tried not to let my mind wander too much, but the questions kept creeping in. What was he busy with? Was it something important? Or was it just... something he didn't want to share with me?
I had tried not to read too much into it, but I couldn't help myself. I had to admit that I was starting to care. More than I had intended to. More than I probably should have.
As I rounded the corner toward the cafeteria, my mind flashed back to Friday. The way Jacob had touched my hands while showing me how to grip the motorcycle handles. The way he'd stood behind me, so close that I could feel the warmth of his chest just inches from my back. I remembered the intensity of our eye contact, the electric charge between us that I was still trying to make sense of. I hadn't expected it to feel like that, so raw and real, like everything in my body was pulling me toward him.
My stomach fluttered just thinking about it.
Then there were Billy's words. The ones that had left me in a weird kind of daze. "You two have a good future ahead of you," he'd said, smiling knowingly at us both. At first, I had thought it was just Billy being fatherly and nice. But now, with the distance of a few days, I couldn't shake the feeling that it meant something more.
The way Billy had looked at me, like he knew something I didn't. And the way Jacob had reacted, his face turning red, his discomfort so clear that it was almost palpable. It had made me feel like maybe I'd missed something, or maybe it was just something about me and Jacob that I hadn't realized yet.
I stopped just outside the cafeteria door, lingering for a moment as the noise from inside the buzz of conversations, the clattering of trays reached my ears.
A good future ahead of us.
It had felt like a simple phrase, but now, replaying it over and over in my head, it felt like so much more. Was Billy hinting at something between me and Jacob? Something deeper?
I hadn't thought much about relationships before, especially not with someone like Jacob. He was my friend. My...new friend. But over the weekend, when we'd been texting back and forth, something had shifted between us. I couldn't exactly put my finger on it, but it was there. Like a new layer of tension in the air, or a new kind of energy between us. I found myself thinking about him more than I probably should have. Not just because he was good-looking, though that was part of it. But because there was something about Jacob's smile, his laugh, his quiet way of making me feel like I mattered, that I couldn't stop coming back to.
I hadn't ever expected to feel this way. Especially not about him. But now, with Billy's words echoing in my mind, I couldn't help but wonder... could there be something more between us?
I could feel the weight of the day on my shoulders the moment I stepped into the cafeteria. It was one of those things I'd gotten used to being on the edges of other people's lives, observing but never truly participating. I had my routine. I kept my head down. Most days, it worked. But today, the room felt suffocating in a way I couldn't quite shake. At least I was sorta making a new group of friends with who I sat with Friday. I think.
I spotted Alice Cullen almost immediately, sitting at the far end of the cafeteria, her small, animated figure glowing like some sort of beacon. She was surrounded by the usual crowd, her brother Edward, Bella, and everyone else from Friday. I hadn't seen Alice since Friday and wondered what her reaction would be to the banners I created. Her enthusiasm had been contagious then, and it hadn't diminished in the days since.
I hadn't wanted to back out since I started working on them. In fact, the more I'd worked on the banners, the more I'd found myself enjoying the process. It had been a while since I'd gotten lost in something like that, something simple and real, a small but tangible way to create something from nothing. I hadn't realized how much I missed it.
"Hey, guys," I said, as I approached the table. Everyone greeted me back.
"Max! How are you?" Alice's voice rang out with the same energy I'd come to expect from her, though this time there was something more: a quiet kind of eagerness, a sense of anticipation. She looked up at me, her eyes bright and wide. "You brought the designs, didn't you?"
I nodded and pulled the folder from under my arm. "Yeah," I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice came out quieter than I intended. I placed the folder in front of her on the table. "I finished them."
She practically bounced in her seat as she grabbed the folder, and got up and I followed as she went to another empty for us to sit at.
As we sat down, I glanced across the table and caught Edward's eye. His usually composed face seemed a little tense, his jaw slightly clenched, and I couldn't help but notice the concerned look he was giving me. It wasn't the first time I'd seen it, but now, in the midst of everything, I felt a flicker of annoyance.
What was Edward's problem? I'd been trying to avoid overthinking his warning about staying away from Jacob, but it wasn't easy. Every time I saw him, I couldn't help but wonder why he seemed so... protective.
I turned my gaze back to Alice, ignoring the unsettled feeling that crept up my spine as I thought about Edward's silent judgment. He doesn't get it, I thought bitterly. He doesn't know what Jacob and I have... or what we're starting to have.
I glanced back at Edward again, just as he looked away, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his disapproval than he was letting on.
Alice was pushing the papers aside as she leaned forward, her small frame radiating excitement. I noticed how she was sitting, her body angled toward me as if she was fully engaged in what I had to offer. There was something disarming about that. How she made it feel like what I had to say, what I had to show her, really mattered. And in a strange way, it made me feel like I mattered too.
Alice unfolded the papers with a quick, practiced motion, her eyes scanning the designs in rapid succession. The first one was the Versailles-style drapes, all rich velvet and royal grandeur. The second had a more whimsical, fantasy-like feel, swirling ribbons and soft, curling edges, like something out of a dream. The third was the most elegant, the simplest: a design that reminded me of something you'd see at one of those celebrity events, understated but glamorous in its own way.
She ran her fingers lightly across the edges of each paper, her eyes flicking back and forth between them, as though trying to make a decision she knew would be important. "These are incredible," she said softly, almost as if to herself. Then she looked up at me, her eyes wide with admiration. "Max, these are perfect."
I couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed by her reaction, though I knew it was genuine. I wasn't used to this kind of praise, not for something like this, at least. But Alice had a way of making everything feel like it was the most important thing in the world.
"So... which one do you like?" I asked, my voice uncertain.
She didn't hesitate. "This one." Alice pointed to the first design, the one with the regal drapes. "It's exactly what I had in mind. I can already picture it."
I smiled, more to myself than anyone else. It felt good to know that I managed to help out even though I had no interest at first.
"Great," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'll need to get the fabric and other materials, but I don't have any of that yet. I kinda need some cash for it."
Alice shook her head, dismissing my concern with a small, almost mysterious smile. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of everything. You just focus on making it perfect. Consider it a thank-you for helping me out."
I blinked at her, surprised. "Are you sure—"
"Yeah, I'm sure," she said, cutting me off gently. "I've been wanting to make this prom thing a little... more special, you know? I know I don't exactly fit the mold, but I think it'll be great if you do your magic with this." Her eyes sparkled with something I couldn't quite place. Was it gratitude? Or something else?
"Okay," I said slowly, feeling the faintest bit of relief. "Thanks."
She gave me a bright smile, the kind that made me feel like I'd done something right for once. But then, her expression shifted slightly, her eyes narrowing as if she were searching for something deeper, something that wasn't immediately obvious.
"Max," she said, her voice quieting a little. "Can I ask you something?"
I nodded, a little thrown off by the sudden change in tone.
"Why are you such a loner?" she asked, her words coming out like a question that had been sitting on the edge of her mind for a while.
I froze for a moment, unsure how to respond. The question was so blunt, so unexpected, that I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. But there was no malice in her voice, no judgment, just curiosity. Still, the question stung in a way I hadn't anticipated.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but words stuck to the roof of my mouth like glue, as if they didn't belong to me. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly aware of how aware I was of the space around me, the table, the cafeteria, the hum of voices. I wanted to answer her, but the truth of it was, I wasn't even sure I understood the question. I wasn't sure I had an answer that would make sense, or that she would even understand if I did try to explain.
I wasn't sure I even understood why I was the way I was.
No one but Alice was looking at me, but it felt like the faint heat of everyone else's eyes were on me, though I forced myself not to look up. I wasn't alone not in the strictest sense of the word. There were people here, kids in the cafeteria, faces I recognized but didn't know. But being in a room full of people had never made me feel less alone. If anything, it was the opposite. They were just reminders that I didn't fit, that there was always some barrier between me and the rest of the world, something that I couldn't seem to bridge.
I shifted in my seat, unsure of how much I was willing to expose. "I've just always been like this," I said finally, my voice quieter than I meant it to be. I gave a nonchalant shrug, like it didn't matter, like it was no big deal. It was a defense mechanism. I could already feel my chest tightening, a kind of suffocating awareness that came with being seen.
"I just figured it would be easier this way," I added after a moment, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "It's not like I'm good at making friends. Or... keeping them. It's just easier not to try."
The words tasted bitter in my mouth. But I couldn't take them back now. I hadn't meant to say so much, but somehow it had come out.
Alice's gaze softened as she listened. She didn't look away, didn't fidget, didn't glance over her shoulder at someone else. She just... waited. She didn't press me, but I could see the understanding in her eyes, and that made me feel like she wasn't going to judge me, even if I was telling her something I didn't always want to admit to myself.
"Easier?" she repeated, almost gently. She leaned in just a little, her eyes not challenging, but questioning, as though she were trying to make sense of it. "Max, I get that it might feel easier to be alone, but I don't think it's what you want deep down."
Her voice was soft, but it felt like a puzzle I didn't know how to answer. It wasn't that I didn't know what she meant. It was that I didn't know how to explain why I needed this isolation, why it was easier for me to be alone even when, somewhere deep inside, I knew I was missing something.
I looked away for a second, my eyes shifting toward the window where the gray sky outside seemed to mirror the fog in my head. How could I explain that part? How could I explain that being with people being close to them felt like it came with strings attached, invisible obligations, expectations I couldn't meet? I could already feel the walls going up in my mind, blocking out the possibility of them, whoever they were getting too close.
But there was something about Alice, something about the way she was looking at me, that made it impossible to lie to her. Not completely, anyway.
"I don't know," I said slowly, my fingers playing with the edge of my napkin. The texture of it felt grounding, something simple to hold on to while the rest of my thoughts swirled like a storm. "It's not even about being bad at making friends. It's just... it's like there's this thing I can't ever shake. Like... when my dad died, it was like everything changed and I just... I don't know how to get back to how things used to be."
My voice faltered as soon as I said it. I didn't expect to go there, didn't expect to feel that familiar ache in my chest, that hollow feeling that followed me everywhere. I hadn't talked about dad much since me and mom got back to Forks. It wasn't that I didn't want to, though part of me didn't. It was more that I couldn't. His death was still this huge, gaping wound inside me that I wasn't sure how to heal. How could I explain it? How could I explain that losing him had somehow made me feel like I was losing everything else too?
I could feel Alice's gaze on me, sharp and understanding. "Max..." she started, but I held up a hand, stopping her before she could say anything more. I wasn't ready to talk about it. Not yet. Not with her, not with anyone.
"I just think it's easier to stay away from people," I said quickly, brushing the words off with a quick, dry laugh. "If you don't get close to anyone, it doesn't hurt when you lose them."
The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. I wasn't sure if Alice knew exactly what I meant, or if she even could. I didn't expect anyone to understand the ache that had settled in my bones, the way I could still hear my dad's voice in the back of my head, still feel the rush of the crash that I couldn't remember, still see the look of concern in my mother's eyes every time she looked at me.
But Alice... Alice just listened.
"Max," she said softly after a moment, "I know what it's like to feel like you don't belong. To feel like you're different. Believe me, I do." She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. "But you don't have to do it alone. You don't have to keep people at arm's length just because you think they'll hurt you. Because they won't. I won't."
Her words hit me like a wave. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't used to people being so sure, so certain that they wouldn't hurt me. It made me want to pull away, to test her, to make sure she wasn't just saying things to make me feel better. But there was something in her eyes that made it hard to doubt her sincerity, something in her voice that made me feel like she was offering me more than just friendship. She was offering understanding.
I swallowed hard, and when I looked up at her, I saw a gentle smile spreading across her face. It wasn't pity. It wasn't sympathy. It was just... acceptance. It was exactly what I didn't know I needed but found in the most unexpected place.
"I know what it's like to feel like an outsider," she said. "I've spent my whole life being different. I've never really fit in anywhere, either."
Her words hit me harder than I expected, resonating deep inside me in a way I couldn't fully understand. Alice was an outsider? I couldn't quite reconcile that image with the person sitting in front of me, glowing with warmth and energy, surrounded by her family and friends. She belonged in a way that I didn't, so how could she possibly know what it felt like to be... me?
But she was looking at me now with eyes that didn't judge, eyes that somehow made me feel like I was seen, in a way I hadn't allowed anyone to see me before.
"You're not alone anymore," Alice said, her voice steady. "You can be my friend, Max. And you can come out of your shell if you want to."
I couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of my lips, even though I was still trying to figure out how to handle all of this. "Thanks," I said, my voice a little softer now.
She smiled back, and the expression was warm enough to melt some of the ice around my heart. For the first time, I saw something in her expression that wasn't just excitement or optimism. There was a gentleness there, something sincere.
Then, after a brief moment of silence, Alice leaned forward slightly, her eyes twinkling with a sudden thought. "I know this is random, but... about that trip to California that's coming up. I was wondering if you changed your mind? I can pay your way for you, plus I thought it could be a fun break. You know, as a thank-you for helping me with the banner."
I blinked, taken aback. "What, seriously?"
"Yeah," she said, clearly not backing down. "It'd be a great way for you to get out of Forks for a bit, to just... relax. You don't have to decide now, but I thought I'd offer."
I paused, thinking about it for a moment. The idea of leaving Forks, of leaving behind all the weight that seemed to cling to me here, was... tempting. But the idea of accepting such a gesture from someone I hardly knew felt strange.
"I... I appreciate it," I said slowly, my voice hesitant. "But I don't think I can. It's too much."
Alice didn't seem disappointed, just understanding. She smiled, her gaze softening as she passed me a piece of paper with her number scrawled across it. "Just in case you change your mind," she said lightly. "You know where to find me."
I took the paper from her hand, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and uncertainty. But something in me wanted to hold on to the possibility. Maybe things could be different here. Maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to stay invisible forever.
When I walked through the door of my house, the quiet of the house greeted me like an old, familiar friend. It was the kind of silence that settled into everything, the walls, the furniture, the air, an unspoken weight that I had gotten used to, even though I didn't know exactly how to carry it.
I kicked off my shoes by the door and walked into the kitchen, where Mom was standing at the counter. She was sorting through a pile of bills, her back turned to me, but I could still see the way her shoulders sagged slightly, like she was carrying more than the bills in her hands.
"Hey," I said, my voice softer than usual. It was always like this when I got home, quieter than when I left, like the weight of the day settled in around me once I stepped inside.
Mom looked up and smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes the way it used to. "Hey, Max. How was school?" She set the bills down, and I noticed the faint lines under her eyes, tired but still trying to keep it together.
I shrugged, trying to act casual. "Same old, same old. Tests, assignments. All that fun stuff." I paused, glancing over at the small kitchen table where we used to sit as a family. Now it just felt like a reminder of how different things were.
Mom smiled faintly, her eyes scanning me as if weighing my words. "Tests, huh? You getting along okay with all that?"
I nodded, not really wanting to dive into the details. "Yeah, it's fine. Just... trying to get through it, you know?"
She let out a small, understanding sigh, then shifted the conversation. "Well, I got a call today. There's a chance I might get a promotion at my job."
My interest piqued, and I pushed off the door frame to lean against the counter. "Really? That's awesome, Mom. What's the promotion?"
She smiled, a bit more genuinely now. "It's for a managerial position. I'd have a team to oversee, and it'd mean a lot more responsibility. But, honestly, it's still up in the air. They're deciding who to choose next week."
I could tell she was trying to be excited about it, but there was an underlying hesitance in her voice. A part of her was likely unsure if she could handle even more stress right now. Mom had always been a hard worker, but lately, it felt like she was carrying a burden that no promotion could fix.
"That sounds like a big deal," I said, offering a small smile. "I think you'd be great at it."
Her lips quirked up at the edges. "Thanks, Max. We'll see. I've got a lot to consider before I make any decisions. But enough about that." She set down her cup and turned her attention to me. "How about you? You get that banner finished for Alice?"
I was surprised by how easily the topic of the banner came up. Honestly, I hadn't really thought about it much since I told her over the weekend, but the question made me feel a little lighter. It felt good to share something that was... just mine, something that didn't involve grief or anything heavy.
"Yeah," I said, a little hesitant but trying to sound confident. "I finished it on Friday after school, but added some more stuff to it over the weekend. Alice seemed pretty excited when I told her I'd finished. She's actually... kind of obsessed with them."
Mom raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Obsessed? That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?."
I chuckled, the tension easing in my shoulders. "Maybe. But yeah, she liked them. I don't know, it's weird. I thought she was just humoring me when I said I'd help, but she's actually been pretty into it. I didn't realize it'd be such a big deal to her."
Mom crossed her arms, leaning against the counter, clearly interested. "Tell me more about these designs. What'd you come up with?"
I took a breath, feeling a little more comfortable now. "Okay, so one of them's kind of... regal, I guess. It's inspired by the drapes from Versailles, like the royal ones, you know? The kind of thing you'd see at a fancy ball. Really extravagant. The second one has this whole fantasy vibe, ribbons, stars, a bit whimsical. The last one's a little more elegant, like the kind of thing you'd see at one of those celebrity events. Super sleek and glamorous."
Mom smiled at the enthusiasm in my voice, her eyes lighting up a little. "Seems like you enjoyed making them."
I shrugged, still trying to keep my modesty intact. "It's nothing special. I just... you know, thought it would be fun. Alice was pretty adamant about me helping her, so I figured it couldn't hurt."
"Well," she said, nodding, "I'm sure she's very grateful for your help. Which one did she choose?"
I nodded, suddenly feeling a little more confident about it all. "The first one. She's actually going to get the materials for me—she said she'd buy everything I need. It's her way of saying thank you for helping her out."
Mom raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth twitching with a smirk. "That's nice of her. But, uh, I'm curious... how do you feel about helping her with all of this? You two aren't exactly close, right?"
I paused, considering the question. "Yeah, it's not like we're best friends or anything," I admitted, my voice a little more guarded. "But I don't know. She's been kind of... insistent, I guess? In a good way. I don't really have anyone else to talk to about stuff like this. And honestly, it's nice to be needed. It's kind of a relief, in a way."
Mom's expression softened, and she looked at me with a knowing look, as if she saw right through me. "It's good that you're getting out of your shell a little, Max. Sometimes, even the smallest things can make a difference. You should take it as a sign that you're ready to let people in again."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I just nodded, looking away. It felt like I was walking on a tightrope between what I wanted to do and what I was afraid to do, but I didn't want to dwell on it too much.
Before I could say anything else, Mom cleared her throat and turned to face me, her expression shifting slightly. "Max..." she began, her voice softer than before.
I looked up, startled. "Yeah?"
She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering downward before she finally met my gaze again. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. If I've been distant lately."
Her words hit me like a punch, and for a moment, I wasn't sure how to respond. I hadn't realized she thought that, hadn't noticed how much space had grown between us, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I had been distant too, closing myself off like it was the only way to deal with everything that had happened.
"Mom, you don't have to—" I started, but she cut me off.
"I know you've been through a lot, Max. And I know I've been trying to... adjust. I've been trying to keep everything together, but I know I've probably been hard to talk to."
I swallowed, unsure of how to articulate what I was feeling. I could feel the tightness in my chest again, that constant weight that pressed down on me whenever I tried to think about how we'd both been struggling, how we'd both been so lost since Dad died.
Mom stepped toward me, a faint sigh slipping from her lips. "I just….I don't want you to feel like I'm pushing you away. I don't want to make this harder than it already is."
I nodded, not sure what else to say. It wasn't that I hadn't noticed the distance, but it was hard to talk about. Hard to admit that we were both in this... grief-filled limbo, unsure of how to move forward, both of us trying to cope in our own ways.
"Maybe we should sit down," she suggested, her voice gentle, almost as if she were offering me a lifeline. "I don't want to bring up your father, not right now, but maybe... maybe we can talk. Remember the good stuff."
I felt a tight knot in my throat, but I followed her to the kitchen table, both of us taking our seats in the worn-out chairs that had been there for as long as I could remember. The table felt smaller now, like the space between us was too wide for us to fill.
"So," Mom said, her eyes wandering to the corner of the room as if she was gathering her thoughts. "Tell me memory of your dad?"
I felt a lump rise in my throat, but I forced it down, trying to breathe. The question felt loaded, too simple for the weight of what it was asking, but at the same time, it was the one thing I'd been waiting to talk about. I didn't want to remember Dad like some distant, untouchable figure, but it was hard to summon his image when he felt so far away, like I was reaching for someone just beyond my grasp.
There was a long pause, and then I spoke. "I remember..." I paused, trying to find the right memory, the one that didn't feel too painful, but none of them felt easy anymore. "I remember when he used to take me fishing, back when I was little. He'd always make fun of how bad I was at casting the line, but I think he secretly liked it because it gave him an excuse to help me. And I remember when we'd just sit there for hours, not talking much, just being. It was... peaceful."
I glanced at Mom, but she was looking down, her face soft with the kind of sadness that wasn't new to either of us. "He was always so patient," she said quietly, more to herself than to me. "Even when I'd mess something up, he'd never raise his voice. He just... always made me feel like everything would be okay."
The words hung between us, thick and heavy. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it was full of the things we couldn't say, the things that hurt too much to put into words. I thought about the crash again, the way it had stolen Dad from us, and how I still couldn't remember anything about it. I was haunted by the fact that I was the one who made it out. The one who didn't die.
The guilt crept back in, as it always did, and I hated it. I hated how my survival felt like a betrayal.
Mom reached across the table, her hand landing gently on mine.
I gave a weak smile, but inside, the guilt still gnawed at me.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "I've been distant too. I don't always know how to talk about it, about any of this."
She squeezed my hand gently, offering me a small, reassuring smile. "I understand, Max. We'll both get through this, one step at a time. We'll make time to talk about it... when we're ready. But for now, we need to try to find our way back to living. To find some happiness. I think that's what your dad would've wanted."
I blinked, the lump in my throat rising again, but this time, there was a warmth that came with her words. Hope, fragile but real.
"I'll try, Mom," I said quietly. "I'll try."
We both stood up, and she wrapped me in a tight hug, her arms strong and comforting. "I love you, Max," she whispered, her voice thick with everything unspoken.
"I love you too," I murmured back, holding on a little longer than usual, as though trying to make up for the time we'd lost, the distance we hadn't known how to bridge.
When she pulled away, she wiped her eyes quickly and smiled at me. "I'm going to go upstairs for a bit. You okay?"
I nodded. "Yeah. I'm good."
"Alright, get some rest. We'll talk more later."
As she left the room, I felt a strange sense of quiet contentment settle over me, even though I knew there was still a long way to go. But for the first time in a long time, I felt like we were both moving forward, however slowly.
I stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath before I pulled my phone from my pocket. I didn't know exactly why I was doing this, but something in me told me it was time to take a chance. I dialed Alice's number, my thumb hovering over the screen.
When she picked up, her voice was light and cheerful. "Hello?"
"Hey, Alice," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "About that trip to California you mentioned... is the offer still open?"
There was a pause, then a burst of excitement on the other end of the line. "Of course! I'm so glad you called. You're definitely going, right?"
I smiled, my heart lifting just a little at the thought. Maybe this was the first step. Maybe it was time for a change.
"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I think I am."
Hey Guys. I know it's been a very long time since I have updated, but life has been crazy for the past couple of mouths. And, not to get to deep into it, but the recent presidential election we had we did kill my mood to write and I really can not believe this country but to every single poc, woman, LGBTQIA, and any other marginalized group just know that I see you and you matter.
With that said, I spend I a lot of time on this chapter and pleased with the way it came out. I hopefully can get the next chapter up as soon as I can since it's the one I'm looking forward but in the meantime I hope you guys enjoy this new chapter and thank you all who have supported this story and have waited patiently for an update.