Chapter 42: Fun in the Sun
"You can stop looking so proud of yourself," Louisa snapped, glaring at Jasper's reflection in the mirror as she struggled to conceal the numerous love bites he had left the previous night.
Unrepentant, his smirk grew into a feral grin. He sidled up behind her and wrapped his arms around her torso. She had half a mind to shoo him away, but when he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, any and all rational thought flew out the window.
"You look beautiful," he murmured in her ear.
"I look trashy," she corrected, trying (and failing) to regain her wits. She leaned into his chest and tilted her head to give him better access to her neck. "Why did you have to leave so many of them?"
"Why do you have to wear a bikini?" he countered, lifting a hand to twirl a strand of her hair around his finger.
"I'm going to the beach," she reminded him. "I'm hardly going to wear a turtleneck."
Jasper raised an eyebrow, clearly finding this explanation insufficient.
Louisa rolled her eyes. "There's no reason to be jealous, Jaz. You're the only Babe for me. Although now that you brought it up, I have to admit, Eric Yorkie has been looking particularly fit lately—I think it's the acne." She squealed in disgust when Jasper licked the side of her neck and attempted to wriggle out of his hold. He let her go with a chuckle and retreated to the bed, where he continued to watch her, his heavy gaze prickling her skin.
"If you're so worried, why don't you come with?"
"It's sunny out," he reminded her. "And even if it wasn't, we're not allowed to go to La Push."
Louisa frowned and turned around. "Says who?"
"Carlisle," he said with a shrug. "He made a treaty with the Quileute People that we wouldn't trespass on their lands back in the thirties."
"And you still honour it?"
Jasper shrugged. "It's Carlisle," he said, as if this was a perfectly logical explanation. Which, in an absurd sort of way, it was.
Louisa nodded before abandoning her makeup and crossing the room to her wardrobe, rummaging around one of the drawers for a swimming costume. "What will you do today, then?"
"Probably entertain the Denali's," he said with a sigh.
"Better you than me."
"I apologise for yesterday, by the way. I told Rosalie to leave you alone, but she clearly had other plans."
"It's fine," she insisted, placing a kiss on his lips. "It was naïve to think I'd be able to avoid them in the first place."
She wiggled out of his embrace before he had the chance to deepen the kiss and fled the room, swimming costume in hand. She found Jasper curled up in the window seat when she returned, staring blankly at the opposite wall.
"Is this modest enough for your liking, Major Whitlock?" She mocked, showing off her bikini.
Jasper looked like he very much wanted to scowl, but he kept getting distracted by her exposed skin. He watched her through lidded eyes as she wandered around her room, pulling out a sundress and hunting down a pair of sandals. "Are you certain I can't convince you to stay?"
"Quite," she replied with a laugh. "I'd like to avoid Eleazar, thank you very much."
"We could stay here."
A shiver ran down her spine at the husky tone of his voice. It was a tempting offer, especially if he was offering a repeat of last night. She sighed. "I promised I'd drive," she explained, her voice heavy with regret. "Besides, I don't trust Eleazar not to come looking for us."
"I won't let him touch you." The words were simple but spoken with so much conviction that Louisa had no trouble believing him. They also sounded like they had been ripped straight out of a smutty romance novel, and she was disgusted with herself how much she enjoyed hearing him say them.
She drifted over to Jasper and hugged his arm, burying her face into his shoulder. "Thank you," she murmured, kissing his neck. A flash of pleasure that was not her own slid through her body. She pulled away before things got out of hand. "If you're good, I'll let you help me put my sunscreen on."
Jasper was across the room in a flash, sitting in her desk chair like a gentleman caller visiting his Victorian lover, a polite smile fixed on his face.
Louisa was a little late picking up Bella, although neither girl seemed too put out. In fact, Bella looked more upset that Louisa had remembered to pick her up at all. She slipped into the Collins' Prius wearing a pair of capris, a long-sleeved shirt, and a morose expression. She looked more appropriate for a day at the museum, or perhaps a trip to the guillotine, rather than the beach.
"So, Bella." Louisa looked in the rear-view mirror, where the girl in question sat taciturn in the back seat. "What do you like to do for fun? You know, when your neighbours aren't abducting you?"
"I read a lot," she replied.
"We read a lot too," Dottie said, twisting in her seat to face Bella. She began to describe her current read, a paranormal thriller about a girl who lived in a haunted house, in vivid detail. "What about you?"
"The classics."
"Louisa likes those too! Jane Austen is her favourite," Dottie replied. "What else do you like?"
"Just the classics," Bella replied.
Dottie gave her a confused smile. "That's it?"
Bella nodded.
Louisa exchanged a confused look with her sister. "Doesn't that get old, re-reading the same books over and over again?"
Bella pursed her lips, a quizzical look gracing her face. Clearly, the thought had never occurred to her. "The classics are classics for a reason," Bella replied.
Louisa tramped down on a sarcastic remark, reminding herself that this was Edward's mate and that she needed to be nice. So, she hummed as if this explanation made perfect sense even though it hadn't answered her question. "Well, if you're interested in raiding our library, we've got some really good contemporary books too."
There. That was a friendly enough effort to interact with the new girl for one day, Louisa thought as she pulled into Newton's Outfitters. A small group of teens had already assembled in the car park, which was empty aside from Tyler Crowley's massive van and Mike Newton's suburban.
"I thought you said seniors would be coming," Louisa complained as they pulled in.
Dottie scowled. "Yeah. Noah's here." She jabbed her thumb in the direction of a lanky teen with olive skin and curly black hair who was chatting animatedly with a crowd of admirers.
Louisa recognised the boy at once as Noah Weber, a popular student due to his sunny disposition and his prowess on Forks High's (Home of the Spartans!) basketball team. Although she had never shared a class with the boy nor gone to any of his games, she recognised him from an incident she had witnessed a few months before.
"Oh, he's the guy you nearly flattened with the car," Louisa noted. "Didn't realise that he enjoyed hanging out with underclassmen."
"His sister was in my Spanish class last year," Dottie grunted. "She'll be here today, I'd imagine."
Louisa frowned at this description, not quite understanding how these pieces of information connected. "And she wasn't nice to you?"
"Oh no, Angela is great," Dottie said in a panicked rush, lest Louisa get the wrong idea about a rising junior that she had never met before. "It's Noah that's the problem."
Louisa stared at her sister for a moment. "Oh, I see. You have a crush on him."
Dottie looked scandalised. "I do not!"
Shrugging, Louisa turned off the engine and pulled out her phone. "Go rally the troops," she commanded, waving off her sister as she shot off a text to Leah. "I can fit one more person. Two if Bella doesn't mind being squished."
Bella pursed her lips, her face pinching as if she desperately wanted to say that, yes, she very much did mind, thank you very little, but shook her head nonetheless. Dottie nodded before flouncing off to her friends, who squealed at the sight of her. Louisa slid down further into her seat and pulled her knees up to rest against the steering wheels, texting Rosalie while pretending to ignore Bella. This probably came across as rude, but given how unsociable Bella had been thus far, Louisa wasn't particularly bothered by it.
You truly can't pick up anything from her? Rose asked.
Even if I could, she's the most milquetoast person I've ever met, Louisa replied, glancing in the rear-view mirror at Bella, who was staring out the window. I'm not sure if I would want to.
I wonder if Edward will be able to read her mind, Rosalie mused.
If there's a brain to read.
Rosalie sent a series of laughing cat emojis. Someone's feeling bitchy today
Only today?
There was a pause, and Louisa watched the grey dots on her mobile's screen as Rosalie typed her reply. After several minutes, she received a carefully worded essay that could only have been composed by Eleazar. It suggested that she touch Bella and see if physical contact enhanced her gift. Louisa rolled her eyes.
Dottie returned with two friends that Louisa recognised as Lauren Mallory and Katie Marshall. Louisa sat up in her seat again as they piled into the car. After a chorus of introductions and hellos, the girls buckled in, and Louisa pulled back onto the highway. As she drove, she noticed that Bella didn't contribute much to the conversation, even when Dottie valiantly tried to draw her in.
Social anxiety, introverted, or shy? She wondered. She had asked Jasper those words the first time she had met him, but at least with him, she could gauge his reaction. Louisa had a feeling that if she asked Bella, she would receive nothing but a blank stare in response. No, Louisa highly doubted any of the three. The girl was simply—painfully—dull, and that was that.
Or was it?
It was a fleeting thought that brought her an indescribable feeling of anxiety. No, nothing was interesting about Bella Swan. She'd be better off without knowing her at all, in fact.
But she had to know her. If Bella was going to be in Edward's life in some capacity, Louisa would be forced to interact with her at some point. It was inevitable that she'd get to know her eventually. Not that she wanted to, of course.
That brought Louisa up short. Louisa would be the first to admit that she could be prickly at times, but even she found that thought oddly aggressive towards someone she barely knew.
And just like that, Louisa was a whole lot more interested in Bella Swan. There was no logical reason for Louisa to be so repulsed by Bella: the girl hadn't done anything wrong, after all. In fact, her only crime was that she was boring. Painfully so. Inhumanly so.
Just last night, she had asked Jasper if it was possible if Bella had a gift. Jasper hadn't seemed all that interested in discussing it. But could this disinterest stem, not from their discomfort at having their gifts made useless, but because there was something that made Bella unnaturally unnoticeable?
As she drove, she began to compile a list of facts that she knew about her new neighbour. The first was that her parents were divorced, and until recently, her mother had primary custody. The second was that Chief Swan, for whatever reason, had gone through legal channels to facilitate Bella's move to Forks. The third fact was that Chief Swan had been consulting Mr Collins about gaining custody and had seemed rather insistent on doing so.
If she hadn't been driving, Louisa would have closed her eyes and slipped into her mental library. She might not have been able to pick up anything psychometrically from Bella, but Louisa was a detective, dammit. She had been deducing things for as long as she could remember. She didn't need a magical superpower to figure out Bella Swan. She had Bella's behaviour and years of behaviour analysis tucked away in her brain. If only she had the moment to access it.
It would have to wait for when Louisa wasn't operating heavy machinery, though.
Meanwhile, she settled for watching Bella in the rear-view mirror as she drove to La Push, dissecting her odd behaviour. The first thing Louisa realised was that Bella wasn't introverted or shy or socially anxious. Louisa thought she might have at least watched the other girls' conversation if she was. That was something people did when they wanted to feel included in a conversation, even if they didn't have anything to contribute.
She wasn't aloof either, or else she'd have disconnected herself entirely from the conversation, either by staring out the window or pulling out the book Louisa had noticed earlier. Instead, she stared at her hands, folded in her lap, and spoke when spoken to. She could answer questions that were asked to her without having them repeated, clearly having followed the conversation. So, Bella was definitely aware of what was going on around her.
And yet she didn't engage. Whenever Dottie tried to pull Bella into the conversation, she responded with short, carefully-worded replies that answered the question but left no room for further discussion. It was almost like she didn't want them to ask her questions or pay any sort of attention to her. It was as if she was trying to make herself as uninteresting as possible in the hopes that people would leave her alone.
Bella wasn't boring because she had no personality, Louisa realised. Bella was boring because she wanted to be. This, in Louisa's opinion, made Bella Swan very interesting indeed.
They arrived at First Beach at low tide, revealing a wide strip of wet sand between the rocky beach and the water's edge. The beach itself was littered with La Push and Forks residents alike, all eager to soak up the sunshine that was such an anomaly in their corner of the Pacific Northwest. The weather was mild for late July, with low humidity and a pleasant, salty sea breeze coming off the water. It barely even smelled like rotting fish and seaweed, which was a pleasant surprise. All and all, it was shaping up to be an idyllic summer day.
The juniors tumbled out of the car with a wave of excited squeals and last-minute fumblings with sun cream. Louisa strolled after them, locking the car behind Bella when the girl eventually slouched out. Slipping on a pair of sunglasses, she motioned for Bella to join her on the beach. Together, they spread out a faded floral sheet on the pebbled ground before quickly bunching up some towels when they realised how uncomfortable the arrangement was. Seeing that Bella was itching to pull out her book, Louisa grabbed her phone and earbuds to give the girl an excuse to withdraw at last. Bella was polite enough to wait a minute before reaching for her copy of Jane Eyre. By that time, Louisa was already listening to a piano album Edward had composed for her birthday and slipping into her mental library.
Sitting down at a desk, Louisa fished out a blank composition notebook from a drawer. She scrawled Bella's name across the cover with a black sharpie. The marker transformed into a pencil in her hand, and she pressed the tip to the first page, ready to write down everything she knew about Bella. She started with the basics: brown hair, likes to read, and a child of divorced parents. From there, she began to list the odd behaviours she had noticed about Bella and what they could possibly mean, a feat that was easier said than done. She got as far as re-reads favourite books as a form of escapism (escapisms from what? Something to do with divorced parents?) before having to lay down her pencil, utterly stumped with how to proceed.
Frowning, she summoned Chief Swan's book, which was rather on the thin side itself. She began to rifle through its pages, hoping to find a glimpse of Bella within. There were brief mentions: tiny, inconsequential snippets such as hates sports and so clumsy she's a danger to herself and those around her that didn't offer much insight.
Louisa slammed the books shut, opened her eyes, and exited her mental library with a frustrated sigh. Craning her neck around, she found Bella buried in Jane Eyre, completely ignoring the scenery.
"Why do you pretend to be boring?" Louisa asked, the words slipping out of her mouth before the thought was fully formed.
Bella looked up at her, startled and somewhat scandalised. "Excuse me?"
Having metaphorically shoved her foot in her mouth, Louisa decided to double down on the question. She sat up and fixed Bella with a curious, rather than belligerent expression, acting as if what she had asked was a perfectly normal question. "Why don't you want people to know you?"
Bella blinked before tucking a bookmark between the pages.
At least she used a bookmark, Louisa thought idly. If Bella had been the type to dogear her books, Louisa wanted nothing to do with her. Edward's mate, be damned. She didn't need that sort of negativity and chaos in her life.
"I'm not opposed to people knowing me," Bella said slowly. "It's just easier if they leave me alone."
"Easier for whom, exactly?" Louisa asked.
Bella shrugged, her expression pensive. "Me, I guess."
"You pretend to be the most uninteresting person on the planet, so people leave you alone?"
"That's the general idea," Bella agreed as if this was the most logical thing in the world.
This was not the workings of a sane mind, Louisa decided, concern squirming around in her stomach. "May I ask why you decided to…" scrub yourself of a personality? To develop the conversation skills of a brick wall? Louisa didn't finish her sentence, but the question was obvious.
"My mom is a narcissist," Bella explained bluntly. "I figured out that she would leave me alone if I didn't give her anything to work with."
This was the very last thing Louisa expected Bella to say—certainly with very little needling. So far, Bella had refrained from sharing anything about her personal life.
"Huh. Does it work?"
"Mom kicked me out when she decided I was too boring for her to play with. So… I guess?"
How the hell did you reply to something like that? Louisa settled for a sympathetic, "That sucks."
"Not really. It's rather refreshing not to be the adult in the house anymore. Charlie can pay his bills and everything." She said this like her father was some sort of magical unicorn that she had stumbled across—like being a fully functional adult was a rare finding rather than the norm.
Guilt stirred in Louisa's chest. Not only had she been bitchy to a girl she barely knew, but she had also been a massive bitch to an emotionally abused kid. "So, are you going to live in Forks from now on?"
Bella considered this for a moment. "Until I leave for college, I think," she said. "I don't like the rain."
"It does rain an awful lot here," Louisa agreed. Searching for a less boring topic, she nodded to the book still in Bella's lap. "Brontë or Austen?"
This was clearly a good question to ask. Bella relaxed and leaned back on her hands, obviously finding herself in safe territory. "They both have their merits, of course. Nobody turns a phrase or writes social satires quite like Austen. But the Brontë sisters wrote some of the most complex and intriguing characters I've ever read."
"It's my personal theory that people who prefer Austen are more well-adjusted."
Bella shot her a sidelong look. "Well, that can't be true. There's nothing well-adjusted about me."
There was a beat of silence before they broke out into giggles.
"I'm just saying that the Brontë sisters are more unhinged," Louisa said when she managed to collect herself.
"Sure," Bella agreed. "But we're all flawed, aren't we? I guess that's why I like them. The Brontës weren't afraid to write ugly characters."
Louisa hummed. "Of which there are many," she agreed. "So, you're more of a philosopher than a romantic. Got it."
"I prefer the term 'realist'," Bella corrected.
"You'll get along with Edward, then," Louisa mused before remembering that Bella had yet to actually meet her soulmate. "He's Jasper's brother."
"The boy from yesterday," Bella stated.
"My boyfriend," Louisa added. She had seen the way Bella had looked at Jasper, and whilst she knew Jasper had no interest in Bella, it was best to nip any sort of romantic notion in the bud. "Edward is his brother. He's… well… he's a bit melodramatic at times. But he has a good heart."
"Their father is a doctor, right?" Bella asked. When Louisa gave her a look that was simultaneously confused and alarmed, she continued. "My dad told me about the family after you left."
Louisa nodded, relieved to know that Bella wasn't stalking her boyfriend. "Rose and Emmett, Jasper, Alice, and Edward. You'll meet them soon enough, I suspect."
"Dr Cullen first, most likely," Bella mused. "I'm dead clumsy."
"Is that your way of saying you don't want to go on a hike with us later?"
Bella grimaced and let out a little self-deprecating chuckle. "I've only just arrived in Forks—it's too soon to make a trip to the emergency room yet."
Their conversation petered out after that, with Bella returning to Jane Eyre and Louisa donning her coverup. She stood and began her search for Leah, who had promised to make an appearance at some point after lunch. It wasn't difficult to find her: all Louisa had to do was follow the delighted squeals of Seth, Leah's little brother, who was sprawled out across her back while she did press-ups.
"How are you doing this?" Seth exclaimed.
Leah collapsed to the ground and rolled onto her back. She scooped up Seth and gave him a squeezing hug. "I'm a superhero," she admitted with a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't tell anyone."
Seth gave her a suspicious look, clearly not buying this explanation.
"It's true," Louisa said, grinning when Seth jumped. "I need to borrow your sister for a super-secret mission."
Seth scrambled to his feet, his eyes alight with excitement. "What kind of mission?"
"Top-secret," Louisa explained, ruffling Seth's shaggy hair.
He grinned. "You're lying to get rid of me," he sang, clearly unbothered by this fact. "But that's okay. I forgive you."
"Enough to get lost, I hope," Leah said as she clambered to her feet. She knocked her hip into his before saying something in Quileute. Seth ran off in a peal of laughter, pebbles flying behind him as he went.
"That has to be the happiest kid in the Pacific Northwest," Louisa mused.
Leah shook her head. "On the entire planet, I reckon. He had to get stitches last month, and he sang to the nurse the entire time. He walked out with seven stickers and a pocket full of lollies."
"Meanwhile, Laurie was still biting the dentist at twelve," Louisa said, laughing as she shook her head. "He scowled from the day he was born to the day he died."
They set off down the beach, waving at passers-by and pausing every so often to inspect interesting rocks. After much convincing, Louisa even let Leah help her climb onto a large pile of rocks that jutted into the ocean under the pretence of finding starfish. She wasn't thrilled about the idea, finding the ground a little too far away for her liking, but she dutifully followed after her friend nonetheless. While they walked, the two friends discussed nothing of import yet still found endless things to chatter about. From lamenting the impending start of their senior year of high school to discussing their respective relationships, there were many things for them to catch up on.
Leah was in the middle of retelling an amusing tale featuring Sam, a mouse, and a flyswatter, when she went very still, like a dog scenting a rabbit. "Don't stare," she instructed under her breath. "That's Billy Black."
Louisa crouched down and pretended to be fascinated with a tide pool. Out of the corner of her eye, she surveyed the middle-aged man that Leah had indicated. He sat in a wheelchair parked on the front porch of a nearby house, watching the people on the beach with a peculiar intensity. His attention was only drawn away when the door to the house opened, and Harry Clearwater, Leah's father, joined him on the porch.
"They're elders," she explained in a low voice.
"That's cool," Louisa said, unsure of what else to say.
Leah found her reply lacking, and she shot her an impatient look. "They're acting weird again," she explained.
This piece of information was far more exciting than the furtive introduction of Mr Black. Leah had mentioned that the Quileute elders were acting strange a few months ago. Back then, the elders had held council meetings frequently and anxiously watched the young men on the reservation. Leah had never figured out what had caused the suspicious behaviour, but whatever the source had been had obviously returned. Even now, the girls watched as the men, their bodies tensed and their jaws clenched, watched the boys playing on First Beach.
"The elders met last night," Leah explained, motioning for Louisa to stand and follow her. She led Louisa back to the ground, and they continued on, their leisurely pace slowing to a crawl as they passed in front of Mr Black's house. "Dad won't say a word about it, but I think something is wrong."
Louisa hummed, mind racing. She knew she shouldn't be suggesting it, but the words tumbled out of her mouth with practised ease. "Should we investigate?"
Leah gave her a surprised look. "Are you offering to help?"
"If you want, of course," Louisa said, afraid she had overstepped. She was suddenly very aware that her offer might have been offensive. After all, she had no relation to the Quileute people; she certainly didn't have any business injecting herself into their affairs. The last thing she wanted was to come across was some entitled white girl.
The idea didn't seem to occur to Leah, though, whose grin showed too many teeth. "This is going to be so much fun! When do we start?"
Louisa glanced up at Mr Clearwater and Mr Black. "Right now, if you want." When she nodded, Louisa linked her arm with Leah's, and together, they climbed the hill to Mr Black's house.
The men fell silent as they approached. Although they wore pleasant smiles, tension lingered in their eyes and the corner of their mouths, clearly displeased at the interruption. Mr Clearwater waved his daughter forward nonetheless and pulled her down for a kiss.
"This is Louisa Collins, Mr Black," Leah said, waving unnecessarily to Louisa.
Mr Black gave her a warm smile, skin crinkling around his black eyes as he reached out to shake her hand. "The Cliff Girl," he said with a knowing look.
Louisa let out a good-natured groan, still holding Mr Black's hand. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?" she asked with a grin.
"It's better than being called 'Idiot White Girl,'" Leah reminded her.
"You do call me 'Idiot White Girl,'" Louisa replied.
"Oh, yeah."
"What sort of trouble are you getting up to?" Mr Clearwater asked.
Louisa dropped Mr Black's hand at last and faced Mr Clearwater. "All sorts, really. Currently, we're on a top-secret mission, so if you see Seth, remind him of that. He didn't seem to believe us when we told him we were superheroes."
"Imagine that," Mr Clearwater replied dryly, his lips twitching.
"And what sorts of trouble does this mission entail?" Mr Black asked.
"Espionage of the highest order," Louisa explained, her tone grave. "I'm afraid I can't divulge anything more than that. It wouldn't be safe."
Mr Black gave her an odd look she couldn't quite decipher. At first glance, he looked amused by her words, but there was something in his dark eyes that almost seemed to believe her. "For whom?"
Louisa gave him her most charming smile and let out an uncharacteristically girly giggle. It was her 'ditzy, dumb blonde' routine that set adults at ease (her father being the notable exception) and let her get away with far more than should be legal. "Uh-uh!" she chided. "You're not getting anything out of me!" She pantomimed zipping her lips.
Mr Clearwater let out a boisterous laugh. "We'll let you get back to it, then."
Recognising the dismissal, Leah grabbed Louisa's wrist and gave it a tug. Bidding the adults farewell, the girls continued their journey, feigning innocence until they were out of sight. Only after they ducked into the forest and started down an empty path did they discuss their conversation with the elders.
"Well, that was a waste of time," Leah grumbled, shoving a low hanging branch out of her way.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Louisa said, her brain already filing away the titbits of information she had managed to pick up. She'd go through them later and organise them properly, but their small conversation had been rather informative, in her humble opinion.
"There is no way you got something from that," Leah snapped.
A self-satisfied smirk curled on the edge of Louisa's lip, and it took everything in her not to let loose everything she had learned. There was only so much she could explain away, after all. "They were discussing something important when we approached," Louisa pointed out. "Important enough that it isn't suitable for our ears. My best bet is that it's whatever has them so riled up."
Leah rolled her eyes. "No shit, Sherlock. Even I picked that up."
"It had more to do with me than you," Louisa continued, choosing her words carefully. "And not because I'm—"
"The colour of milk?"
Louisa had to chuckle at the comparison. "An outsider, I suppose. But Mr Black has clearly heard about me before."
"Everyone has heard about you, Lou," Leah reminded her. "You and your sister are infamous around here."
This was probably true, but that wasn't the impression she got from him. For the briefest of seconds, Louisa thought she had seen a flash of distrust in Billy Black's eyes. Distrust for what was still a mystery, but there was no doubt in her mind that Mr Black had heard gossip about her, and he didn't like it one bit. She rolled this piece of information around her mind as they continued to walk.
"You're not supposed to go into Forks, right?" Louisa asked.
Leah confirmed this with a hesitant drawl, unable to follow her train of thought.
Louisa hummed and pursed her lips, creating a blank stretch of wall in her mental library, which she began to fill with curious pieces of information. "When did the elders start acting weird?"
Leah let out a breath, her cheeks puffed out. "Last week, maybe? It's only been really bad within the last couple of days, though."
"I wonder what changed," Louisa mused, more to herself. She wandered down the path, internally dissecting her conversation with Mr Black and feeling like she was tugging at the end of a Gordian Knot. She knew that she was missing something important, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what. Perhaps if she had time to sit and reflect on everything she had learned, it would become more apparent. Still, at the moment, she felt herself growing more frustrated the longer she walked.
The path opened up ahead, and Louisa realised a moment too late that they had stumbled upon a spot occupied by several La Push teens. Louisa froze, her blood pressure skyrocketing at the sight of the looming edge of the cliff a dozen metres away. She had no way of knowing how far the drop was, nor did she particularly care to learn. She remained petrified at the treeline, watching as Leah waltzed forward to toss her arms around Sam and pull him down for a kiss. Sam's friends jeered and wolf-whistled, eliciting a rude hand gesture from Leah and a spectacular blush from Sam.
When Leah realised that Louisa had yet to join them, she waved her forward. "No need to be shy," she teased, grabbing hold of Louisa's arm when she was close enough and pulling her to stand beside her. "They don't bite."
"I don't do heights," she explained through gritted teeth. She took a deep breath of the salty sea air, which did little to calm her racing heart or her churning stomach.
Sam gave her a sympathetic smile and offered to walk her back down to the beach.
"But you jumped off the big cliff," Leah said before Louisa had the chance to take him up on the offer. She pointed above them to the towering rock face that Louisa and Dottie had indeed leapt from back in February. "Are you seriously afraid of heights?"
The other teens in the group muttered with varying degrees of confusion and admiration. Apparently, this was a much bigger deal to them than it was to her.
"It was a life-or-death situation," Louisa explained. "I didn't really have a choice."
"But that's so brave of you!" A girl with wide brown eyes and prominent cheekbones exclaimed. "I've never been brave enough to jump from the tall cliff, and I'm not even afraid of heights!"
"You make it sound much more romantic than it was," Louisa said weakly, her temples throbbing from the stress of the situation. "Dead of winter or not, cliff diving isn't exactly my idea of a good time."
There was a snort behind them, and they turned to find a small group of boys, perhaps a few years younger than themselves. Unlike Sam and Leah's friends, this new group of teens had a hard, angry vibe about them. At the front was a boy who had the mean look of a bully who had finally grown muscles and was excited to put them to good use. He approached with a confident swagger that might have made him look like a man had his cheeks not been bloated with baby fat or his skin dotted with acne.
He fixed Louisa with a look that made her skin itch. "So, you're the girl who—"
"Jumped off the cliff, yes," she finished. This was the third time she had been identified as such today, and it was getting annoying. "It was February, and the water was cold. I wouldn't recommend it."
"Shouldn't you be at daycare right now?" One of Sam's friends asked the boy with a mocking smile. The older teens snickered amongst themselves—clearly, this newcomer was not well-liked.
The boy's face flushed and a tremble of anger pulsed through his body.
"Is there something you wanted, Paul?" Sam asked, cutting in before an argument could start.
Paul seemed to understand this as an invitation to join them rather than the dismissal it was. His friends crept behind him, watching the scene unfold with excitement and sniggering when he stopped in front of Louisa. Like she did most people, Louisa towered several inches over Paul. He had to tilt his head back to look her in the eye, which didn't really cut an impressive figure.
"I don't believe you," he said, raking his eyes over her body.
Once upon a time, Louisa might have impulsively risen to Paul's juvenile taunts. Instead, she settled for an irritated eye roll. "That's hardly my problem."
"Do it," he demanded, lifting a challenging eyebrow. "If you were so brave to jump the cliff, do it now."
"No thanks," Louisa said, turning her body away from Paul, effectively ending the conversation.
Arms wrapped around her, and the next moment, Louisa's feet were off the ground. She screamed, legs flailing, as Paul tossed her over his shoulder and began to make his way towards the edge of the cliff.
A fog of panic overtook Louisa's brain, and any rational thought abandoned her senses. She struggled out of Paul's grip, trying and failing to kick him. When that didn't work, she beat her fists against his back, yanked his hair, scratched at his skin, anything that would get him to release her.
"Relax, girly, it's just a joke," Paul said, his voice cutting through the blind hysteria.
"Does it look like she's laughing? She's terrified. Put her down!"
Louisa felt her assailant respond more than she heard them. They dropped her on the ground, her knees weak and the world spinning as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Before her, Leah was about to trade blows with Paul. She likely would have, had Sam not stopped her.
Louisa tried to raise to her feet, swaying as she did so, her feet oddly numb. She recognised a moment too late that dizziness and cliff faces didn't go well together before she fell.
Compared to the other cliff, this one was tiny. In fact, the fall was only about five metres into the ocean below. The water wasn't even nearly as cold as it had been the last time, which was nice. Unfortunately, the fall hurt about as much as it would have had she fallen from a tree to the ground. That was to say, it hurt really fucking bad.
She hit the water on her side and felt something snap in her left arm, sending waves of white-hot pain jolting through her body as she tried to push herself to the surface. Louisa found herself buffeted by the current, and it took every bit of strength to keep herself from being smashed against the rocky cliff face. Her lungs burned with lack of oxygen the longer she fought the water, and it didn't take long before black spots began to appear before her vision.
Hands grabbed Louisa by her armpits, and she found herself being yanked to the surface. Coughing and spluttering, Louisa craned her neck around to face her saviour. She was only slightly surprised to find Sam Uley supporting her in the water.
"We need to stop meeting like this," she said. She had meant for it to be a joke, but the words sounded flat, even to her own ears.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Do you think that you can swim?"
Louisa tried to flex her injured arm, which she noticed was already turning a sickly purple. "I think it's broken," she explained.
Sam nodded, grim-faced, and began to tug her back to the shore. A crowd had gathered on the beach, including a teary Dottie and a grim-faced Mr Clearwater. With Sam's and her sister's help, Louisa was ushered to the Clearwater's house, where she was wrapped in towels and had her arm inspected by Mrs Clearwater.
"It's definitely fractured," Mrs Clearwater murmured. Leah's mother was still in her scrubs, having just got off a twelve hour shift at the Port Angeles hospital, and looked about as thrilled to see Louisa's broken arm as Louisa was to have it. She gave her husband a stern look over Louisa's head. "She'll need the hospital."
"We should leave before traffic gets too bad," Mr Clearwater agreed. "Port Angeles—"
"Are you insane? That's too far," Mrs Clearwater said, impatience colouring her tone. "Forks is closer."
Mr Clearwater scowled. "We're not going to Forks."
Mrs Clearwater stood, collecting her car keys and purse. "This isn't up for discussion," she said. "I'm taking her."
"If it helps," Louisa began, "you can just drop me off at the door." Whilst Louisa wasn't entirely sure what beef Mr Clearwater had with Forks Community Hospital, she had no desire to be driven halfway across Washington to have her arm fixed.
"I can drive her," Dottie volunteered. "I got my licence a couple of months ago."
Mrs Clearwater blinked and gave Dottie a once over. "Absolutely not." She didn't give a reason, but Louisa privately had to agree with her. Dottie was a terrible driver.
"You'll need to bring the others home," Louisa reminded her sister when an offended look crossed her face. "I don't want Lauren driving my car."
Dottie still looked displeased about this arrangement but acquiesced.
It took some time to mobilise, with Mr Clearwater flat out refusing to let Sam tag along and Leah making an appearance, still screaming after her fight with Paul. Eventually, Louisa was tucked away in the backseat of the Clearwater's station wagon beside Leah, and they began their journey towards Forks. Leah tried to keep Louisa's mind off the pain, but every bump in the road jostled Louisa's arm and had her hissing expletives that would have made even Jasper blush.
Louisa was unsurprised to see a sleek black Mercedes waiting just past the entrance to La Push.
"You can pull over," Louisa murmured. "That's my ride."
On cue, Jasper slid out of the passenger's side of the car, Carlisle mirroring his actions from the other side.
A palpable tension settled over the car. "Keep driving, Sue," Mr Clearwater commanded.
"It's okay, Mrs Clearwater," Louisa said, shooting a frown at Leah's father. "That's my boyfriend. His dad's a doctor."
Leah whistled with appreciation. "Damn, he's hot."
"Thanks. I picked him out myself," Louisa drawled. "But in all seriousness—"
"Keep driving, Sue," Mr Clearwater repeated, a little louder.
Anger pulsed through Louisa's veins, though she wasn't sure if it was entirely hers at the point. Jasper had moved to stand in the middle of the road, blocking the car's path. Even several metres away, she could see the tension in her boyfriend's body. Carlisle moved to stand behind Jasper and placed a hand on his shoulder, which was promptly shrugged off.
Mrs Clearwater's knuckles were white when she pulled to a stop. Neither Jasper nor Carlisle moved towards the Clearwater's car. It was as if they were stuck behind some sort of imaginary wall.
No, not imaginary, she realised, merely invisible. Just that morning, Jasper had told her how Carlisle had made a treaty with the Quileute People. A treaty that, even now, they respected. A treaty that, judging by his tensed body, Mr Clearwater was familiar with. But what was the treaty about? And why had it been made in the first place?
Vampires. Somehow, Mr Clearwater—all of the elders, most likely—knew about vampires. That was why the Cullens were banned from La Push. The idea occurred to Louisa so suddenly that she wondered if she had come to this conclusion on her own or if she had picked it up from Mr Clearwater. Perhaps a bit of both.
Stomach churning, Louisa fumbled with her safety belt and slid out of the car. "Thank you for your help," Louisa said, offering Mrs Clearwater a wan smile as she passed.
"Leah, get back in the car," Mr Clearwater shouted.
Louisa turned to find Leah was crawling out of the station wagon behind her. "Chill, Dad," Leah said, jogging to Louisa's side. "It will only be a second."
"Leah Clearwater, get back in the car this instant," Mr Clearwater shouted. He, too, had climbed out of the car, though he stood behind the open car door like it was a vibranium shield.
"In a minute!" Leah yelled back. She approached Jasper with a friendly smile and an outstretched hand. "It's nice to finally meet you. Louisa never shuts up about you."
"Leah, I've already broken one arm today. Don't make me break the second."
Leah ignored her and waited for Jasper to respond.
Jasper blinked and stared at the hand, his eyes darting between Carlisle and Leah. Slowly, he reached out to shake it. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, at last, a hint of his Southern drawl creeping into his voice. "Even under these circumstances."
In a flash, Leah's face twisted into a scowl. "Don't worry. I'll deal with Paul."
The ferocity in her voice alarmed Louisa—whilst it was true that her friend could be a bit hot-headed, there was something chilling about Leah's tone. It was cold and calculating, and although the threat was vague, Louisa had no doubt in her mind that Leah's definition of 'deal with Paul' was very different from her own. Louisa hoped Sam could appeal to Leah's more relaxed nature before blood was spilt.
"That isn't necessary," Louisa said, sharing a nervous glance with Mr Clearwater. "It was an accident."
Jasper reached forward and pulled Louisa to his chest, taking care to avoid jostling her broken arm. He rested his chin on her shoulder as he considered Leah, curiosity sneaking through the fury and anxiety he projected.
"Much appreciated," he replied before whisking Louisa away without another word.
"What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. These are but trifles, to be sure; but scattered along life's pathway, the good they do is inconceivable."
― Joseph Addison
A/N: Seriously, how has it been 3 months since I last updated this story? Sorry about that.