Jacob and Bella Story

Chapter Two

Bella’s P.O.V.

“Bella, why don’t you take off?” Mike suggested, his eyes not focused on me.

Today, time at Newton’s limped by, boredom draped like a heavy blanket. Yet, curiosity coaxed two brave souls through the door. Mike pondered the pros and cons of lightweight packs for hours. But now, their gaze drifts beyond mere price tags. In a sparkling exchange of stories, each customer shares their adventures. Their words twinkle, competing for the spotlight, drawing in every ear. This enchanting diversion becomes Mike’s shimmering ticket to freedom.

“I don’t mind staying,” I said.

“Seriously, Bella. Once these two throw in the towel, I’m calling it a night,” Mike said, his tone a blend of exasperation and resolve.

“All right, see you Monday,” I mumbled.

The doors burst open, unleashing a torrential downpour. I ran to my truck, shielding myself from the weather as rain pounded the hood. The persistent sounds of nature spurred me on despite the fierce storm. I quickly hopped into the driver’s seat and started the car. I felt cursed by the mere idea of returning to Charlie’s. Last night’s savage attack shattered my dreams of a safe refuge. My dreams turned into terrifying nightmares, each worse than the one before. That darkness held me captive in an endless void. My cries echoed chillingly, a ghostly refrain that lingered and wouldn’t fade.

In my dream, I wandered a silent maze of moss-green sentinels. Rustling leaves danced while distant birdcalls whispered through the tranquil stillness. A heavy silence wrapped around me like a thick morning fog. As dusk deepened, shadows stretched lazily, cloaking my path in shades of gray. The rich aroma of damp earth perfumed the air, intoxicating and real. I sprinted through midnight’s embrace, stumbling over hidden roots and rocks. The scent of decay draped over me like an unwelcome shroud.

The soft earth swallowed my footsteps, cradling my frantic pace. My heart raced, a war drum echoing in the stillness. Shallow breaths escaped my lips, desperate and bleary-eyed. I rushed forward, limbs flailing like a puppet in a violent storm. A chilling premonition overcame me. I stood trapped, awaiting the inevitable moment to strike. I was utterly bewildered, like a frantic puzzle with missing parts. A hollow ache bloomed in my chest, a painful emptiness that stole my breath.

My thoughts drifted like leaves on a restless wind as I drove. Rain-slicked streets stretched like a shimmering ribbon, leading nowhere in particular. Home now felt like a distant land, a mirage of a place. I became a wanderer, lost in an endless journey without a map. The familiar craving for numbness clawed at my insides, bittersweet and alluring. Yet, the escape I sought slipped away like sand through my fingers. Nightmares seized my mind, clinging to shadows of past pain. The dark forest of memories wrapped around me like a shroud. Tears blurred my sight, a testament to the ache I felt. A deep-seated sorrow nestled itself in my shattered heart. Letting go of the steering wheel, I clutched my chest in despair. Slumped over the wheel, I gasped for breath, each inhale a battle against despair’s weight.

I was curious about how long the pain would continue. I hoped that, in the years to come, the pain would reduce to something bearable. I could fondly reflect on those few short months, the best months of my life. Even if it were possible, the pain might never subside enough for me to do that. But what if this hole did not get better? The raw edges would never heal, and this damage would be permanent and irreversible.

My head struck the hard plastic steering wheel. The dull ache felt oddly comforting next to the sharp pain behind my eyes. How silly I was to worry about my promise to Edward. This whole situation felt like a personal betrayal to me. Who cared if I was reckless or foolish? Wasn’t it assumed that freedom and foolishness coexisted? A humorless laugh escaped me, my breath catching in my throat. My desperation was a shield against the painful memories that haunted me. Being reckless once came naturally in Forks, but now it felt like a lost art. Forks changed from danger to peace. Now, it echoes with bird songs instead of chaos. Finding something dangerous here now felt like chasing shadows in the twilight.

Before turning off the engine, I quickly peeked through the windshield. Plunging into the relentless icy rain was like entering a frozen tempest. Every icy droplet felt like a sharp shard, making me shiver. The wind howled a sorrowful tune, its melody echoing deep sadness. I brushed away the blurry raindrops that clouded my vision. Only a gentle breeze dared to disturb the quiet of the nearby trees. Suddenly, a chilling realization washed over me: I knew precisely where I was. I parked my truck right in the northbound lane of Russell Avenue. It blocked the Cheneys’ driveway. Panic nudged at my thoughts; it was time to move and head home. As I contemplated my next move, a sign across the street piqued my interest. Leaning against the Marks’ mailbox was a weathered, wise piece of battered cardboard. The barely legible, haphazard black letters in all caps wobbled and danced in the storm. Talk about luck! Was fate playing its hand? That faded, hand-painted sign boldly proclaimed, “FOR SALE.” My heart raced as I spotted gleaming bikes, their inviting seats calling my name.

With each step, rainwater squelched beneath my feet. I splashed through puddles, heading to the Marks’ welcoming front door. The doorbell chimed, a soothing melody amidst the drumming rain. The older Mark’s boy answered, his expression startled. “Bella Swan?” the younger one inquired, eyes wide with surprise.

“How much are you selling the bikes for?” I asked.

“Seriously?”

“Of course I am.”

“They do not work.”

With a weary sigh escaping my lips, I pressed on. “How much?” I inquired, desperation threading through my voice.

“If you want it. Take it. My mom made my dad move them down to the road so they could get picked up with the garbage,” the boy said.

I glanced at the bicycles again. They lay still in a messy pile of fresh grass and broken tree limbs.

“Are you sure about that?” I asked.

“Yes, do you want to ask her?” the boy asked.

“No, I believe you.”

“You want me to help you?” the boy asked. “They’re not light.”

“Okay, thanks. I only need one, though.”

“Might as well take both,” the boy said, shrugging his shoulders as if it didn’t matter. “You might find some usable parts for it.”

The boy came out into the rain, his hair stuck to his forehead. We lifted the two heavy bikes into the back of the truck together.

The boy looked at me with a curious expression. “What are you going to do with them, anyway?” he asked. “It’s been years since they last worked.”

I didn’t know what to do; I could take it to a repair shop.

“I’ll probably head over to Dowling’s,” I responded.

The boy snorted, a sound like a small, derisive puff of air. He sighed and said, “Dowling’s repair quote would be higher than the machines’ worth in working order.”

I couldn’t argue there. John Dowling had earned a reputation for his surprisingly high pricing. No one went to him unless it was an emergency. I was fortunate when Charlie first gifted me my old truck, which I couldn’t even afford to keep running. My only issues are the ear-splitting engine roar and the frustrating 50 mph speed limit. Jacob Black kept the truck in top shape, like his father did. Hold on a second... Inspiration struck me like a sudden, brilliant flash of lightning illuminating my mind.

“You know what? That’s okay; I actually have someone who builds cars that can help me,” I said.

The boy beamed, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Oh, that’s splendid!” he exclaimed.

The boy waved goodbye as I pulled away.

I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner; it seems so obvious now. I could use Jacob’s help to get the bikes to work. The issue is that I don’t have his address, as I haven’t been to his place before. I know Charlie is at work, but his address is something only he knows. Upon reaching a stoplight, I called Charlie. He picked up after several rings.

“Bella, what’s wrong?” Charlie asked, his voice thick with worry.

“Can’t I call you at work without there being an emergency?”

Charlie was silent on the other end for a second, and then he asked, “You never have before. Is there an emergency?”

“No. I need directions to the Blacks’ place. I want to visit Jacob. I haven’t seen him in months,” I responded.

When Charlie spoke again, his voice was happier. “That’s an excellent idea. Do you have a pen?” he asked.

I took a pad from my drawer and a pen from my console. I wrote down Jacob’s address, which Charlie had given me. Then, I told Charlie I’d be home to make dinner and hung up.

Twenty minutes later, I parked my vehicle at Jacob’s house. The tiny wooden building had narrow windows and dull red paint. It looked like a small barn. I switched off the engine; Jacob, alerted by the sound, looked out the window before I could exit the vehicle. He came out to see me.

“Bella!” Jacob called out, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

Jacob’s smile sparkled brighter than the stars against his russet skin. His long, dark locks swayed to the wind’s playful whispers. I observed him intently. In a few months, he had transformed. A sculpted physique emerged, with veins tracing paths beneath his sun-kissed glow. His cheekbones sharpened like a work of art, and his jawline became a bold statement.

“Hey there, Jacob!” I beamed, captivated by the warmth of his grin.

I met Jacob’s smile with my own, and warmth blossomed within me. In that fleeting moment, clarity swept over me, reigniting my fondness for Jacob Black.

My eyes widened in astonishment. “Wow, you’ve grown again!” I gasped in amazement.

Jacob burst into laughter, his smile spreading like sunshine. “Yep, six-five now,” he declared.

I noticed his voice had a deeper, huskier tone that felt familiar.

“Come on, let’s go inside. You’re getting all wet,” Jacob said.

Jacob led me along the way to his house, and I followed.

“Hey, Dad,” Jacob called out to Billy. “Look who’s here.”

Billy was in his living room, holding a book. He placed the book on his lap when he saw me and wheeled forward.

“Well, well, well! Look who’s gracing us with her presence! Bella, it’s a joy to illuminate my day to see you,” Billy beamed, his smile like sunshine.

I gave him a handshake and then let go.

Billy regarded me with an inquisitive look. “What’s the story behind your visit? Is everything okay with Charlie?” he asked, his concern evident.

“Absolutely, all is well! I’ve wanted to catch up with Jacob; it’s been ages since we last connected,” I responded.

Jacob’s face lit up with a huge grin at my words.

“Can you stay for dinner?” Billy asked.

“No, I’ve got to feed Charlie, you know,” I responded.

“I’ll call him. He can eat with us.”

I laughed to mask my unease. “Thanks, but I’ll pass for now. Don’t worry; I’ll return, and I’m sure you’ll eventually tire of my company,” I joked.

Billy chuckled. “Okay, next time,” he said.

Billy wheels away, and Jacob asks, “So, what do you want to do?”

“Whatever. What were you doing before I got here?” I asked.

Jacob’s presence lifts my spirits for reasons I can’t quite grasp. My past slips away like shadows retreating before the first kiss of dawn.

Jacob spoke. “I was going to work on my car, but we can do something else...”

“Perfect,” I said, cutting in. “I’d be thrilled if you would show me your car!”

“Alright,” Jacob responded, eyeing me skeptically. “It’s out back—waiting in the garage.”

This was even better. This will give me the chance to talk about the bikes.

Upon entering the garage, a completed automobile elevated on cinder blocks appeared.

“What kind of Volkswagen is that?” I questioned, intrigued by its charm.

“It’s an old Rabbit, a 1986 model, a classic,” Jacob responded.

“How’s it going?”

“Almost finished,”

I nodded. This was a good time for me to bring up the motorcycles.

I gazed at Jacob, curiosity shining in my eyes. “So, what do you know about motorcycles?” I asked, intrigued by his response.

Jacob arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Some. My friend Embry has a mud-splattered bike. We tinker with it together now and then. Why do you ask?” he asked.

“Well... I found a couple of bikes. They are not in the greatest condition. Could you get them running?” I responded.

“That’s cool. I could give it a try.”

“The thing is, Charlie doesn’t approve of motorcycles, so you can’t tell Billy.”

“Hum, sure. I understand.”

“I’ll pay you too.”

“No. I want to help. You can’t pay me.”

“How about a trade, then? I only need one bike, and I’ll need lessons too. How about this? I’ll give you the other bike, and then you can teach me.”

“Alright.”

“Wait a sec. Are you legal yet? When is your birthday?”

“You missed it,” Jacob teased. “I’m sixteen.”

“Not that your age ever stopped you before. Sorry about your birthday.”

“Don’t worry about it. So when will you bring them down?”

I nervously nibbled my lip, a flush of embarrassment washing over me. “The bikes? They’re tucked safely in my truck now,” I murmured, my voice a mere whisper.

“Great,” Jacob said.

“Will Billy see if we bring the bikes around?”

Jacob shot me a wink. “I’ll have to be sneaky,” he murmured, his voice dripping with mischief.

I nodded, and then we went to my truck. Jacob effortlessly unloaded the bikes the moment we arrived, leaving me astonished.

My eyes widened. “Jacob, you’re like buff. How did that happen? I don’t get it,” I said.

“Age is a number, baby. What, you like 40 now?”

“Feels like it sometimes.”

We walk back to the garage.

“This isn’t half bad,” Jacob chuckled, inspecting the item closely. “When I’m done, this will definitely be worth something.”

“That one’s yours, then,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“These will take some cash, though, because we will need some more parts. We’ll have to save up.”

I nodded, my determination sparking like fireworks in the night sky. “I’ve stashed some cash from my college fund,” I declared boldly.

Jacob nodded hesitantly. We started working on the bikes, and Jacob pulled the first bike to pieces. I pulled out a stool nearby to sit down. While he worked, we chattered casually. He talked about his sophomore year of school, his classes, and his best friends, Quil and Embry.

Then, we heard a call in the distance. “Jacob,” someone shouted.

“Speak of the devil,” Jacob said.

“Jake! Are you out here?” The shout danced through the air as footsteps quickened.

“Yeah! In here!” Jacob shouted back.

I sighed as two tall boys walked in, their dark skin gleaming under the lights. One was slender, towering nearly as tall as Jacob. He had chin-length black hair, parted in the middle. He tucked one side behind his left ear, letting the other hang loose. The shorter guy next to him was a surprise. He was muscular, his very short hair adding to his formidable presence.

They abruptly stopped, eyes widening in surprise at my figure. The wiry boy glanced anxiously from side to side, uncertainty dancing in his eyes. The muscular one held my gaze steadily, a slow smirk creeping across his face.

“Hey, guys,” Jacob greeted.

“Hey, Jacob,” the brawny boy said, keeping his gaze fixed on me.

I returned his smile, and the little charmer shot a playful wink. “Hey there!” the brawny boy exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Quil, Embry, this is my friend Bella,” Jacob said.

Quil and Embry looked at each other, exchanging looks with smirks, but they said nothing.

“You’re Charlie’s kid, right?” the brawny boy asked me.

“Yep,” I confirmed.

“I’m Quil Ateara.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Hey, Bella. I’m Embry. Embry Call. ‘You may recall seeing me at the beach last year,’ the slender boy said.”

I nodded in agreement. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again,” I responded, smiling.

“What are you guys doing?” Quil asked, still looking at me.

“Bella and I are fixing up these bikes,” Jacob explained.

The boys examine Jacob’s project and ask him questions. They talk about parts and pieces, as I realize I should head home to make dinner for Charlie.

I stood up, and Jacob met my gaze, a sheepish grin creeping across his face. “Sorry if our conversation isn’t exactly a nail-biter,” he said, a hint of mischief in his tone.

“Naw,” I said. “I have to get home to cook dinner for Charlie.”

“Oh, okay, well I’ll finish taking these apart tonight and figure out what more you need to get rebuilding. When do you want to work on them again?”

“I can come tomorrow.”

Quil nudged Embry’s arm, and they exchanged grins. Jacob smiled at me and said, “That would be great.”

“If you make a list, we can look for parts,” I suggested.

Jacob’s face then fell. “I don’t think I should let you pay for everything,” he said.

I shook my head. “I don’t mind. It’s a little money from my college fund. No big deal. You have to supply the labor and expertise, though,” I said.

Embry rolled his eyes at Quil.

“That doesn’t seem right,” Jacob said.

“Jake, imagine how much they would charge us if I took these to a mechanic,” I said.

Jacob sighed deeply, his eyes brimming with reluctant acceptance. “Alright, we have a deal,” he relented, surrendering to the inevitable.

“Not to mention the riding lessons,” I said.

Quil grinned widely at Embry and whispered something to him. Jacob’s hand smacked the back of Quil’s head.

“That’s it, get out,” Jacob muttered.

“No, it’s okay. I need to go,” I said before heading out the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As soon as I leave the garage, I hear Quil and Embry’s chorus: “Woo hoo!” Then, someone follows with a brief scuffle, an “ouch,” and a “hey!”

“If either of you sets so much as a toe on my land tomorrow...” Jacob threatened.

Jacob’s voice faded as I got to my truck. I giggled as I got in, and the sound widened my eyes. I was laughing and felt happy again. I pulled out of the driveway and headed home.