Chapter 20
Once upon a time, I believe it was a Tuesday when I caught your eye
And we caught onto something
I hold onto the night, you looked me in the eye and told me you loved me —Forever & Always, Taylor Swift
Leah
A person can't love somebody one day, then not love them the next. It's not possible. If it were possible, it couldn't have been a genuine love. And I believed Sam loved me—deeply and truly loved me. The glow I'd observed in his eyes, on the occasions he'd confessed those wonderful, special words made it impossible for him to deny.
I understood that I made a mistake, and he was mad at me. But it wasn't as bad as he was making it out to be. He just needed time. A few days to realize that it was just a stupid incident. And the sharp, throbbing spasm of pain I felt in my head that came with the slightest movement of my body would keep me from ever repeating it. I was even breaking out in cold sweats, trying to keep from gagging on nothing.
I spread the thick, cotton washcloth out over my palm, turned on the cold water, and held my hand underneath it before slapping the icy, soaked rag on top of my head as I slowly lay back in the bathtub, letting the cold wetness drain down my scalp, neck, and face. My head hurt too badly to worry about Sam's assertion for the moment.
Relief was nowhere. Sighing and moaning, I mustered enough energy to slosh myself out of the tub and crawled over to the toilet, dripping water all over the red brick-patterned linoleum floor. I dry heaved as quietly as able, until some disgusting yellow fluid from my dehydrated, nauseous stomach made its way from my mouth. I felt like I was dying.
When I toweled off, wiped up the floor, got dressed, and hauled myself out of the bathroom, I met Jacob in the hallway.
"Good. You took a shower," he said, in a voice loaded with confrontational sarcasm.
I pushed my way by him, holding on to my aching head. As if I wasn't feeling tortured enough, he followed me into my bedroom, refusing to realize my ignoring him meant I wanted him to leave me alone.
But he wouldn't go away easily, nor did I really deserve that courtesy. The sooner the tirade was over, the better. "I'm sorry, Jake," I said, finding my way to the bed, sadness and regret already threatening tears from my eyes.
"Leah, what the hell were you thinking?" He glared, disappointment and anger clear in his scowl. "What the hell would you have done if Bella and I weren't there?"
Weary, I frowned, without a single ounce of fight in me. There was no excuse for my idiocy—no acceptable defense. I attempted to explain anyhow. "I wouldn't have done it if you weren't there, Jacob. Honest. I felt safe enough to try it because you and Bella were there."
Regardless of how ridiculous my reasoning sounded coming from my lips, after the fact, my claim was essentially the truth.
"Pfft..." He huffed with a roll of his eyes. "Don't give me that crap, Leah. Do you realize how much trouble you almost got us all into?"
I closed my eyes and hung my head in shame, wondering how I could have been so thoughtless, especially after I'd promised him I wouldn't do anything stupid.
Everyone was having so much fun, though. I didn't think a few forced down gulps of the nasty tasting mix Emily gave me would hurt me, and they didn't. Not at first. I kept waiting to feel some difference, but then took more gulps when that difference didn't come soon enough. The next thing I knew, I was sloppily hanging on Sam, barely holding myself up, if even that.
"Because you're too mentally weak to just say no!" He sounded every bit the parent as Harry and Sue.
He was right. I was too weak to say no. I let the condescending eyes ogling me—for not drinking—pressure me. I started feeling like I was telegraphing my young age, when I just wanted to fit in with the crowd. Oh. I became part of the crowd, all right, the worst part of the crowd. I became the entertainment and joke of the night.
Why didn't I just leave?
Each remark Jacob made lifted the guilt inside of me a little higher up my throat.
"I've been there a few times. You didn't see me getting drunk, stumbling all over the place, and puking my guts out!"
I squeezed my eyelids closed and uttered in a soft voice. "I know, Jake."
My shame sent tears dripping down my cheeks. I buried my head in the palms of my hands to let him finish his rant, supposing my actions justified his anger. He quieted once I sniffled.
"Leah." His tone was gentler.
I lifted my head, wiping my eyes.
"You better never do that again." He gave me a hard stare. "Sam better never take you there again. He got lucky this time!"
"Don't worry. He won't," I said, unable to control the breaking of my voice as I stretched out on my stomach, flat against the bed. I couldn't hold back the sorrow any longer, and I burst out crying. "He dumped me, Jake. He doesn't want to see me anymore. He said he didn't want the 'baby-sitting' responsibility."
Jacob blinked in surprise, and his scolding facial wrinkles eased away.
"And whatever you're thinking of saying, Jake, don't. I don't want to hear it!" I sobbed, glaring. I was projecting some blame over my hurting on him, but I didn't care. "Just go!"
I doubted he had any words of comfort for me in the first place. He never liked me going out with Sam. Nobody did. The thought of everyone being happy about our break-up hurt.
Jacob dropped his gaze to the carpet. "Sorry, Leah, but you're right. I have nothing good to say about that." He lifted his head. Despite his words, I could see he wasn't void of compassion as he offered his uninvited opinion. "Sam's almost eighteen. He really is too old for you."
The silent tears fell harder. Burying my head in my arms while I listened for the door to close behind him, I let them fall free. After a few more moments had passed, it occurred to me the sounds of his presence continued. I peeked back up. Jake was leaning against my dresser with the oddest smirk curled on his lips. He said, "Besides, according to you, you love someone else."
Jasper with his arm around me flashed in my mind. I stiffened with recollection and gasped. "Oh, my freaking... I remember!"
Flipping over onto my back, I had the intention to sit-up, until the sharp pang of my hangover stabbed me in the brain, forcing me to hold still and relax on the bed. I reached for the pillow sitting beside me and smothered the visible humiliation burning in my face, horrified.
Jake's enjoyment seemed to increase as more bits of the night poured into the broad daylight of my consciousness.
"Oh, no! What am I going to do now?" I hated my senselessness even more and tried to find a comforting thought to help me save face the next time I saw Jasper. "He has to know I wasn't in my right mind."
"As the wise, well-versed on-the-subject-matter Billy Black has spoken on several occasions 'drunken words are sober thoughts,'" he mimicked, in the voice of his dad. Then he laughed without remorse.
Embarrassed, I followed with my laughter. It took my mind off Sam.
"Okay. Give me a break now, Jacob," I said, giving him a smile as I stewed in my embarrassment.
He literally gave me a break when he told me not to worry about it. Jasper understood my mindless intoxication. Jake also reminded me that Jasper never had the fortune, or misfortune, depending on how one might look at it, of hearing Billy's wonderful words of wisdom.
"Did you talk to Bella this morning?" he asked, on a more serious note.
"Yes... She tore into me, too."
"Did she tell you anything else?"
Sure of the conversation coming, I said, "Just a little."
"Did she tell you I kissed her?"
Live excitement sparked from him. I rolled my eyes. He was worse than Bella. But even though I wasn't in a joyous mood, I decided the least I could do—after letting him down and almost getting us grounded for life—was to rise above my self-pity for his sake.
They had planned to keep it a secret from everyone, and here they were, both champing at the bit to spread the word after less than twenty-four hours. Tempted to tease him and make him sweat a little, I narrowed my eyes. "No. She never told me you kissed her."
He flinched, getting a puzzled maybe-Bella-didn't-want-Leah-to-know straightness to his face. I held my face expressionless and finished with: "What she said was... that you guys made out!"
He flaunted a huge grin, and I was glad to see him with so much happiness—him and Bella both. But I remembered and imagined Seth's devastation hovering over the horizon. "Are you going to tell Seth?" I asked, hearing noticeable sorrow in my question.
He nodded, then sighed, frowning in worry. "But not until after the boxing match next weekend. I'm helping him train for it, and that won't continue if he's pissed-off at me. I won't mess with his head before a match, especially this one."
I agreed with Jake's intention. Every La Push boxer was passionate about the hometown win. They gave their all during the yearly local match. It was one of the few area boxing events for them to showcase their skills in front of the people they knew. The boxing gym had existed in La Push forever, and most of the dads and grandfathers boxed themselves at some point. The entire community, and a large Forks crowd, showed up to support them, and the guys always made it well worth anyone's time to attend.
"That's a good idea." I rubbed my temples in pain, physical head-hurting pain for myself and emotional heart-hurting pain for me and my brother. But I gave my word to Jacob, and I planned on abiding by it. He and Bella waited long enough for this relationship and deserved it.
After learning, first-hand, of how it felt for people to interfere in my love life, I decided nobody had the right to stand between two people who wanted to be together. Two people in love. Not even my brother.
New feelings of misery arched up inside of me. I attempted to push them away. Before leaving the room, Jacob said, "It hurts, doesn't it? Uh... you and Sam." He said it in a way that made me believe he could see the tears I was trying to hide versus the idea that he may have been speaking from experience.
I nodded, even though half of the pain he witnessed came from thoughts of Seth's soon-to-be-damaged heart and pride. I hoped he assumed it was my heartache written all over my face.
"Sorry," he said, then closed the door behind him.
I lay on my bed after he left, thinking about the conversation I had with Seth about Bella just weeks before Jacob came home.
"Why don't you just tell her how you feel already? Kiss her and tell her how you feel now."
"I will when the time's right. What? Do you think I'm worried about her going out with that douche, Mike Newton? She's not happy about it, so I'don't know why she accepted the date. But I bet you know. Don't you?"
I mentally kicked myself for opening the conversation up to the very line of questioning I always tried so hard to avoid. "Who knows why she does the things she does."
"Whatever," he snapped. His voice softened and with a question in his eyes, he said, "I really think she likes me, though."
I answered him truthfully and with a smile. "I think she likes you, too." I added the words. But she loves Jake, in my mind, and frowned deep inside as I thought them.
Whether Bella realized it or not, she had an attraction to Seth. I witnessed enough close interactions between them to know it. Seth spent more time with her this summer than I had. And they treated each other with such kindness, always chipper and laughing when together. Her feelings for him were just buried beneath a thick layer of intense Jacob-love.
Seth sensed it, too. It was why he couldn't give up. I had been hoping he'd call her on it before it was too late, but her behavior could be baffling. It was no wonder why he didn't. Her actions didn't always match her words, and her words didn't always match her feelings. Not that she was dishonest; she just wasn't always in touch with her inner Bella. She kept guys away with her guardedness and body language. I think it was part of some subconscious defense mechanism.
I suspected Jacob could also see this attraction between her and Seth, when I sometimes caught him staring at them with jealous eyes, which I assumed was the reason he backed off for so long. That was all over now.
Being twins, Seth and I shared pages of firsts together, and if Sam didn't make up with me soon, we were about to share another one. The simple realization brought a new flow of tears from my eyes. Sam has to forgive me. It was the only way I could be there for Seth, one-hundred percent. I brushed my tears away, reminding myself that Sam loved me, then closed my eyes and floated off to a nap.
A/N The boxing match is up next!
