Jacob and Bella Story

Chapter Five

Bella's P.O.V.

I got on the bike and grabbed both handlebars. Jacob stood in front of me.

"Okay, where's the clutch?" Jacob asked.

I pointed to the lever on my left handlebar, letting go of the grip, which was a mistake. The heavy bike wobbled underneath me, threatening to knock me sideways. I grabbed the handle again, trying to hold it straight.

"Jacob, it won't stay up," I complained.

"It will when you're moving. Now, where's your brake?"

"Behind my right foot."

"Wrong?"

Jacob gently took my right hand and curled my fingers around the throttle. When he touched my hand, that familiar electric feeling from an earlier time shot through my hands and arms again. My breathing picked up, and my palms felt sweaty. I took shallow breaths to calm myself down as I squeezed the throttle.

Ignoring the sensation, I pressed on, saying, "But you said..."

"This is the brake you want. Don't use the back brake now. Use it for later when you know what you're doing."

I looked at Jacob suspiciously. "That doesn't sound right," I said. "Aren't both brakes kind of important?"

"Forget the back brake, okay? Here..."

Jacob wrapped his hand around mine again, and I squeezed the lever down. "That is how you brake. Don't forget," he said.

"Fine," I agreed.

Jacob's warm hand stayed settled against mine, offering security. I looked up at him, his eyes meeting mine. A nervous tremor ran through him as he stared at me for a second before his gaze flickered away, his breath catching in his throat. Was he feeling what I was feeling? I shook it off as Jacob spoke.

"Throttle?" Jacob asked.

I did what Jacob said and twisted the proper grip.

"Gearshift?" Jacob asked.

I nudged it with my left calf.

"Very good. I think you've got all the parts down. Now you have to get it moving," Jacob said.

"Uh-huh," I muttered, afraid to say more.

A storm brewed in my belly, nerves twisting like a tempest. My voice, a fragile whisper, threatened to shatter under pressure. Dread surged, wrapping around me like a suffocating shadow. This terror, a ghost from my past, lingered too long. I'd faced the unimaginable, so why let anything unsettle me now? I should dance with death, unafraid, and let laughter echo in its wake.

My stomach was in whole protest—no sale here. Ahead, the long dirt road meandered, bordered by thick, mist-enshrouded greenery. The sandy, damp surface was a blessing, much better than a squishy, muddy mess.

"I want you to hold down the clutch," Jacob instructed.

I wrapped my fingers around the clutch.

"Now this is crucial, Bella," Jacob said. "Don't let go of that, okay? I want you to pretend that I've handed you a live grenade. The pin is out, and you are holding down the spoon."

I squeezed tighter.

"Good. Do you think you can kick-start it?" Jacob asked.

"If I move my foot, I will fall over," I told Jacob through gritted teeth, my fingers tight around my live grenade.

I said to myself, "Okay, I'll do it. Keep hold of the clutch."

Jacob nodded, stepped back, and, with a sudden crunch, slammed his foot down on the pedal. A sharp ripping sound echoed as the power of his kick jolted the bike. I swayed dangerously sideways, but Jacob deftly grabbed the bike before I could hit the ground, keeping us upright.

"Steady there," Jacob encouraged. "Do you still have the clutch?"

I inhaled sharply, my heart racing. "Absolutely," I responded, exhilarated.

"Plant your feet. I'm going to try again," Jacob said.

Jacob put his hand on the backseat to be safe.

It took four more kicks before the ignition caught. I could feel the bike rumbling beneath me like an angry animal. I grabbed the clutch until my fingers ached.

"Try out the throttle," Jacob suggested. "Lightly. And don't let go of the clutch."

I gripped the handle firmly with trembling hands. The bike roared beneath me, furious and famished. It craved adventure, hungry for the open road. Jacob's face radiated pure satisfaction, gleaming like he'd won a mighty duel.

"Do you remember how to put it into first gear?" Jacob asked.

"Yes," I responded.

"Well, do it."

"Okay."

Jacob waited for a few seconds and then spoke. "Left foot," he reminded me.

"I know," I said, taking a deep breath.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jacob asked. "You look scared."

"I'm fine," I snapped.

I kicked the gearshift down one time.

"Very good. Now, gently ease off on the clutch."

Jacob took a step away from the bike.

"You want me to let go of the grenade?" I asked in disbelief.

"That's how you move, Bella. Do it little by little," Jacob said.

As I loosened the grip, a voice that did not belong to Jacob shocked me by interrupting.

"This is reckless, childish, and idiotic, Bella," the voice fumed.

I gasped, my hand slipping from the clutch like a feather in the wind. "Oh!" I exclaimed, surprise painting my voice.

The bike bucked under me, causing me to move forward.

Jacob seized the bike, stopping it in its tracks. "Bella?" he asked, concern etching his voice. "Are you all right?"

I nodded. "I'm fine," I mumbled, dazed.

It's more than okay. The voice in my head was back, but soft echoes still rang in my ears.

My mind was a tempest of endless possibilities. The road ahead seemed unexplored. It wasn't déjà vu, but a new excitement stirred inside me. Something I couldn't understand was causing the hallucinations.

An adrenaline rush ignited like wildfire, blazing through my veins. The answer teetered on a precipice—an intoxicating mix of thrill, peril, and a dash of bravado.

I was eager to try again right away. Being reckless was paying off better than I'd thought. Forget cheating. I'd generated the hallucinations that were much more important.

"Let's try again," I said.

"Are you sure?" Jacob asked.

"Positive."

This time, I tried to get the kick-start myself. It wasn't very easy. I had to jump a little to slam down on the pedal with enough force, and every time I did that, the bike tried to knock me over. Jacob's hand hovered over the handlebars, ready to catch me if I needed him.

At last, the engine roared to life after brilliant and ignominious attempts. Gripping the grenade launcher, I eased forward on the throttle. With the slightest nudge, it snarled like an untamed beast. Jacob and I exchanged wide grins, our excitement crackling like electricity.

"Easy on the clutch," Jacob reminded him again.

"Do you want to kill yourself, then? Is that what this is about?" His voice, again, his tone, was severe.

I smiled. It was working. I ignored the questions because I knew Jacob wouldn't let anything happen to me.

"Go home to Charlie," his voice ordered.

The sheer beauty of it amazed me, and no matter the price, I couldn't let my memory lose it.

"Ease off slowly," Jacob encouraged me.

"I will," I said.

It bothered me a bit when I realized I was answering both.

His voice thundered in my mind, clashing with the motorcycle's roar. I clenched my focus, fighting the urge to recoil from the sound. Gradually, I eased my grip, surrendering to the moment. Suddenly, the gear propelled me skyward, and I soared into the wind.

My stomach trailed behind me as adrenaline surged like wildfire in my veins. The trees zipped past, a vibrant green blur dancing in the wind. Yet, this was the beginning—a tantalizing taste of thrills. My foot twitched, eager for the gearshift, craving the rush of more speed.

"No, Bella!" Jacob shouted. "Watch what you're doing!"

It distracted me enough from the speed to realize that the road was curving slowly to the left, and I was still going straight. Jacob hadn't told me how to turn.

"Brakes, brakes!" Jacob yelled.

I braked as I usually do in my truck. Instead of stopping, the bike sped up, bringing me nearer to the green wall. I was going so fast that time seemed to vanish. Desperate, I wrestled with the handlebars for control. My weight changed, causing the bike to lean oddly. I spun toward the trees, seized by intense fear.

The motorcycle landed on top of me, pulling me across the wet sand into the moss. I tried to lift my head, but something was in the way.

I was dizzy and confused. It sounded like things were snarling—the bike next to me, the voice in my head, and something else.

"Bella!" Jacob yelled.

I heard the roar of the other bike cut off. I then felt the motorcycle move away, and the growing silence became deafening.

"Wow," I murmured.

I felt thrilled. This had to be the recipe for a hallucination: adrenaline plus danger plus stupidity.

"Bella!" Jacob said while crouching over me anxiously. "Are you okay?"

"I'm great!" I felt enthused. "Let's do it again."

"I don't think so. I'd better drive you to the hospital."

"I'm fine."

"Um, Bella? You've got a huge cut on your forehead, and it's gushing blood."

I clapped my hands over my head. Sure enough, it was wet and sticky. I could smell nothing but the damp moss on my face, and that held off the nausea.

"Omg, I'm sorry," I apologized as I pushed hard against the gash as if I were forcing the blood back inside my head.

Jacob smirked with amusement. "You're apologizing for bleeding?" he asked.

I looked at Jacob and then looked away. "Yeah, I guess I am," I said.

"It's blood, Bella. No big deal."

With a deliberate stretch, Jacob rose, shedding his shirt like armor. He plopped it onto my forehead, and a faint aroma of blood wafted through the air. I inhaled deeply, redirecting my focus to avoid the lingering scent. His eyes anchored me, fierce and unyielding, pulling me into his magnetic pull. I'd never looked at him this closely before. His breath brushed my skin, and his familiar scent came to my nose. If you didn't know, his scent smelled like sandalwood, mint, and lavender; boy, he smelled mouth-watering. I took in every detail of him. He slicked back his glossy, raven hair and gathered it with a rubber band. Striking cheekbones framed his deep-set, dark eyes, revealing maturity beyond his sixteen years. The childlike roundness of his chin hinted at a youth that had long slipped away. He appeared older than his years, a sense of wisdom etched in his expression. Quil's physique paled in comparison, a far cry from Jacob's wiry strength. His long and sinewy muscles lay beneath his smooth, russet skin, a hue that sparked envy within me.

Jacob noticed my scrutiny. "What are you staring at?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Nothing, you're sort of beautiful," I responded.

Once the words slipped out, I worried he might take my impulsive observation the wrong way.

Jacob stopped what he was doing briefly, looked at me, and then smirked. "How hard did you hit your head?" he asked.

"I don't know," I responded.

Jacob laughed. "Okay, let's get you in the truck," he said.

Jacob helped me up, cradling his arm around my waist. He helped me get into the truck, and I said, "I'm fine, Jacob. Don't worry. It's a little blood."

"A lot of blood," Jacob mutters as he returns to my bike.

I spoke when Jacob loaded the bikes into the truck. "Now, let's think about this for a second. If you take me to the ER like this, Charlie will surely hear about it."

I glanced down at the sand and dirt caked into my jeans.

"Bella, you need stitches. I will not let you bleed to death," Jacob said.

"I won't," I promised. "Let's take the bikes back first, and then we'll stop at my house so I can dispose of the evidence before we go to the hospital."

"What about Charlie?"

"He said he had to work today."

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me. I'm an easy bleeder. It's not nearly as dire as it looks."

Jacob didn't like the idea, as shown by his sad expression, but he didn't want to get me in trouble. I stared out the window while Jacob drove to Forks.

The motorcycle was better than I'd dreamed. It has served its original purpose. I'd cheated and broken my promise. I'd been needlessly reckless. I feel less pathetic now that both sides have broken their promises.

And then to discover the key to the hallucinations. At least, I hoped I had. I was going to test the theory as soon as possible. They can get through with me quickly in the ER, and I could try again tonight.

The electrifying speed on the road was a thrilling experience. As I raced ahead, the wind kissed my face, igniting my spirit of freedom. The world blurred by, transporting me to wild rides through thick, untamed woods. No path was in sight, just pure exhilaration as I flew past. But suddenly, the memory struck like lightning, a painful pang jolting me. This bittersweet rush startled my senses, causing me to flinch.

Jacob looked at me with a worried expression. "Are you still okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I responded, trying to sound as convincing as I had been before.

As we arrived at my house, Jacob offered a knowing nod. I dashed to the mirror, propelled by curiosity and dread. What stared back was a nightmare painted in crimson. My cheek and neck bore blood, streaked like a macabre masterpiece. I inhaled deeply, steadying myself with each measured breath.

I washed up as well as I could. Then I hid my dirty, bloody clothes at the bottom of my laundry basket, carefully putting on new jeans and a button-up shirt. I did this one-handed and kept both garments blood-free.

"Hurry," Jacob called from downstairs.

"Okay, okay," I shouted back.

I headed downstairs and spoke. "How do I look?" I asked.

"Better," Jacob responded.

"But do I look like I tripped in your garage and hit my head on a hammer?"

"Sure, I guess so."

"Let's go then."

Jacob hurried me out the door and insisted on driving again. We were halfway to the hospital when I realized he was still shirtless.

I frowned, feeling guilty. "We should have grabbed a jacket for you," I said.

"That would have given us away," Jacob teased. "Besides, it's not cold."

I looked at him weirdly. How is he not cold? It's freezing outside. "Are you kidding?" I asked as I shivered.

I reached out to turn the heat on. I then watched Jacob to see if he was trying to play tough so I wouldn't worry, but he looked comfortable. He had one arm over the back of the seat while I huddled up to keep warm.

When we stepped into the hospital, I braced myself for seven stitches on my forehead. After the sharp sting of the local anesthetic had faded, I felt no pain during the procedure. To my surprise, Jacob held my head steady, brushing my hair out of my face as Dr. Snow sewed me up, and oddly, I felt comfort as he did that.

We were at the hospital forever. When I finished, I had to drop Jacob off at his home and hurry back to cook dinner for Charlie. Charlie seemed to buy my story about falling in Jacob's garage. After all, it wasn't like I hadn't been able to land myself in the ER with no more help than my feet.

After hearing his voice in Port Angeles, the night sparkled brighter. For the first time, my chest ached in a good way with Jacob's absence, a familiar discomfort but gentler than before. Tomorrow, his presence would be my balm; that thought warmed my heart. A flicker of hope eased the emptiness; relief felt within reach. The nightmare lost its edge but left an unsettling void. Fidgeting, I awaited the moment that would shatter this disquieting dream. Deep down, I sensed the nightmare would soon fade away.

The following Wednesday, before I got home from the ER, Dr. Gerandy called my dad. He warned him that he had a concussion. He told my dad to wake me every two hours that night to check if it was serious. Charlie's eyes narrowed suspiciously at my weak explanation about tripping again.

"You should stay out of the garage altogether, Bella," Charlie suggested that night during dinner.

I panicked, worried that Charlie would issue an edict that wouldn't allow me to visit La Push. I wasn't giving up. I had the most fantastic hallucination today, and I'd take whatever pain that would cause me tonight without complaint.

"This didn't happen in the garage," I said. "We were hiking, and I tripped over a rock."

Charlie cast me a curious glance, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Since when do you hike?" he asked, his words dripping with skepticism.

"Working at Newton's was bound to rub off some time," I pointed out. "If you spend every day selling all the virtues of the outdoors, eventually you get curious."

Charlie glared at me, unconvinced.

"I'll be more careful," I promised.

"I don't mind you hiking around La Push, but keep close to town, okay?" Charlie asked.

"Why?"

"Well, we've been getting a lot of wildlife complaints lately. The forestry department will check into it, but for the time being, we should track the situation."

"Oh, the big bear," I said. "Yeah, some hikers coming through Newton have seen it. Do you think there's a giant mutated grizzly out there?"

"There's something. Keep it close to town, okay?" Charlie asked again.

"Sure, sure," I said.

I picked up Jacob on Friday. When Jacob got in the truck, I said, "Charlie's getting nosy now."

"Really? We probably shouldn't ride the bikes," Jacob said. "At least for a week. You can stay out of the hospital for a week, right?"

"What are we going to do?"

Jacob smiled. "Whatever you want," he said.

I thought about that for a minute. Without the bikes, I'd need to find other ways to feel danger and adrenaline. That would take some serious thought and creativity. Doing nothing was not appealing. Suppose I got depressed again, even with Jake? I had to stay occupied.

There could be some other way, some other recipe, and some other place.

He must have stamped his presence somewhere other than inside me. He must feel more authentic elsewhere than in familiar places filled with others' memories.

I could think of one place where that might hold. One place that would always belong to him and no one else. A magic place full of light. The beautiful meadow I'd seen only once in my life, lit by sunshine and the sparkle of his skin.

This idea might be dangerously painful. Even thinking of it, my chest ached with emptiness. It was hard to hold myself upright to avoid giving myself away. But indeed, there, of all places, I could hear his voice. I had already told Charlie I was hiking.

"What are you thinking about so hard?" Jacob asked.

"Well..." I drawled. "I found this place in the forest once. I came across it when I was, um, hiking. A little meadow, the most beautiful place. I don't know if I could track it down on my own. It would take a few tries..."

"We could use a compass and a grid pattern. Do you know where you started from?" Jacob asked.

"Yes, below the trailhead where the one-ten ends. I was mainly going south."

"Cool. We'll find it."

As always, Jacob was down for anything I wanted to do, no matter how strange.