Fever

Jasmine and I had been friends every since I could remember, and throughout those years we rarely fought. Most of the time we bickered over stupid things like celebrities, gossip, clothes, and movies. Nothing we ever fought over was serious, mostly because that wasn’t how our relationship went. But this time, leaving her in such a fragile state seemed like the wrong move to make. But I had no other actions in mind, and fleeing seemed to be the closest thing. After all, it was what I was raised to do.

The fight with Jasmine had my mood dramatically lowered, despite having seen Jacob once again. I stayed cooped up in my room, flipping through magazines and textbooks, trying to occupy my thoughts with something other than her hopeless face. We never fought over men, even if we both weren’t interested in the same one. We always swore that our friendship came first, yet there we were, sulking on either end.

“Honey?” my mother knocked at my door. “Can I come in?”

“You’re basically in right now,” I sighed, looking over at her head as she peeked in.

“Thanks,” she smiled, sliding in and closing the door behind her.

I wasn’t daft to my mother’s approach; she was trying to squeeze information out of me while I was still vulnerable. But I didn’t see a point in trying to hide it, it was just annoying that she had to try and disguise her motives.

“How was school?” she started off, rubbing my leg as she tried to butter me up.

“Lame,” I grumbled.

“Oh,” she mused, “Why was it ‘lame’?”

I shrugged, “It was stupid, Jasmine and I got in a fight.”

“Really?” she said, not at all surprised by the information. “What was it over?”

“Something stupid.”

“Stupid? Like a boy?” she continued, trying to be oblivious.

I sighed in agitation.

“Or, I don’t know,” she placed her hand over her mouth, trying to keep her mask on.

I rolled onto my back and pushed myself onto my elbows, looking at her with a grim expression on my face. I knew what was coming, and I didn’t think I could take another lecture with the weight of Jasmine’s facial expression on my conscience.

“Really, mom? You’re going to act like you don’t know about my little visit after school?” I said irately. “I told him to go away, just like you wanted me to. Happy?”

“It’s not that, honey,” she tried sweetly. “I just don’t want you hanging around with the wrong people.”

“Like who? The Quileute’s?” I asked, boldly taking on my mother.

She swallowed, allowing a blast of ice to shower her words, “Yes, as you are well aware.”

“I know I’m not suppose to talk to them, but he started it,” I groaned, “and I finished it. It’s over - he’s going to leave me alone.”

She nodded, but didn’t hesitate to repeat herself like she did every moment the situation arose, “Promise me you’ll stay away from them?”

“I promise mom,” I sighed, my temper flaring, “now please? I’d like to mope in silence.”

She watched me sceptically, as if trying to measure the truth in my words. I had never lied to my parents before, or have even given them a reason to doubt me. It was nerving that she was trying to play the same role she always played, trying to protect me from life experiences. If it weren’t for my father, she would probably have me home schooled and secluded from the population of our dingy town. Although she expected me to have friends calling me every second after school, she was always interrogating me about where I was going or whom I was seeing. The only way to avoid the constant questions was to run out of the house before she even knew that I was leaving.

I think my father had more sympathy for me than he liked to show. He was a quiet man, and was always content. He never showed extreme emotions, always just content. I always assumed that his reserved nature was to outweigh my mother’s overprotective one. I swore that my children would never endure the same torture that I had to undergo from the moment I could comprehend what she was saying.

My thoughts were dragging me away from Chemistry and towards all of the irritation that I had kept stowed away. I knew that I loved my mother, and I appreciated her concern, but I wasn’t going to lie when I said it got old. After all, wasn’t I old enough to look after myself? I could hear both of my parents conversing lightly in the living room, the topics most likely revolving around their one and only daughter.

I groaned and tossed my textbook onto the ground, knowing that I was in no state of mind to be working. It was the house that was driving me insane, especially with the paper-thin walls and my mother’s voice reverberating throughout every attachment to the home. I couldn’t take her constant worrying right now. My fight with Jasmine wasn’t about Jacob at all, it was about her and I. Yet my mother didn’t care about the fact that I was tearing myself up over it, all she cared about was making sure I stayed away from La Push.

I grabbed my jacket and a pair of warm boots, intent on getting some fresh air. Normally, I didn’t leave the house after dark, unless I had a destination in mind. But tonight was different than any other night. As I passed the kitchen, I grabbed the knit gloves that my father bought me for my thirteenth birthday and headed for the front door. The doorway into the living room was adjacent to the front door, and the only other escape route would be out the back doors. But I didn’t want to give my parents a reason not to trust me, and announced my departure as I stepping outside into the frigid air.

“I’ll be back later,” I announced, darting out the door quickly before my mother could protest.

Through the thick door, I could hear her spluttered response, but I knew my father would console her. He often chose my side, and I loved him for that. He knew that I needed my space to grow, and that was the one thing my mother tried to deny me. But I smiled heartily as I made it down the driveway and onto the road without even the twitch of the curtains.

Forks was a very small town, and I could have easily covered it in a few hours if I walked fast enough. But it was also very drab and boring, and the only thing that ever brought tourists around was the forest. True, it was beautiful, but it was just a bunch of trees in the ground. Although, I had been brought up around the lush landscape, so I didn’t blame myself for taking advantage of it. Or maybe it was my mother who tried to keep my attention away from anything that remotely reminded her of her people.

My father once told me that as a child, she was always in the woods with her friends. It was the only thing she ever did, aside from her daily chores and school tasks. The forest was her domain, and even now, looking at it was too much of a reminder. I didn’t see the trees the same way, I saw it as a pile of greenery waiting to suck in a bystander. It was an abyss, a vortex of trees that would swallow you whole and take away your exit strategy.

I wonder what my mother would think if I lost myself in the forest? What if I went against her demands and submerged myself into the bushes late at night, and never returned home? I couldn’t contain the idea from taking over as I glanced at the tall tress that virtually surrounded the town. But that was dangerous, and dangerous was an adjective I have never used to describe myself. Safe, was more like it; cautious.
But I was tired of being cautious and safe. When I graduated from school, where would I go next? I would be destined to mope around scholastic places and emerge myself in loneliness. Maybe Jasmine was right; maybe I needed to test the waters to find someone. Maybe Jacob was the right temperature too.

I scoffed loudly at the thought, imagining myself riding on the back of his motorcycle. I think my mother would go into cardiac arrest if she caught wind of that, especially if neither one of us were supporting helmets. The thought didn’t seem too extravagant as I dwelled on it, my arms wrapped around his torso, with his muscles twisting under my touch. I could just imagine it, Jacob and I riding off into the sunset without my mother or his people thinking anything. But of course, the sun was too far to ride into. And Jacob and I just weren’t meant to be.

I couldn’t stop my dreams from circling around him, but I could stop myself from fawning over him in real life. In the present, my mother could tell me who to date and what to do with the likes of men like him. But in my dreams, she couldn’t touch him. She would never know about the dances in the forests, or the looks passed between us. Of course, my dreams never got too intense, except for that one night...

After the fever had passed, I had troubles remembering my dream. It had been so alike all of my other, with the forest as the background and Jacob being the leading male. But there was something about the words he spoke that had my skin tingling. It was difficult to string together what had happened, for I was just so focused on how hot I had been. In the dream, I had thought I was being set on fire for the first time. It was scorching and painful, but no matter how I writhed, Jacob didn’t stop it.

I shivered involuntarily. Perhaps this wasn’t the time to try and recall a dream. Maybe it seemed strange because of the fever, maybe it made me delusional. But it wasn’t the first time I had received a dream, followed by a burning temperature. I thought of the other two times, both linked with the forest and the darkness. Jacob had only appeared when the third dream came around, but there was something similar in the previous two that seemed to link him to them.

I laughed out loud at the thought, “Wow, I really am losing it.”

Ahead of me, the road curved and I caught sight of Jasmine’s house. Her bedroom light was on, and I could only assume she was staring at her textbook, trying to work. Maybe I was wrong in hiding everything from her, maybe I should have told her. I hated not being able to talk to her, and now I felt guilty for hiding things from her. I shouldn’t have acted so rashly either. We were best friends, and she was trying to look out for me, not what my mother wanted.

But would she talk to me? I had never seen Jasmine angry with anyone before, so I didn’t know what to expect. Maybe she would slam the door in my face? Or maybe she would burst out crying in an apology. Neither option seemed much like Jasmine, but I knew that I couldn’t have her mad at me any longer. I had to tell her about the dreams, about Jacob, and I had to apologise.

I jogged over to her home and rapped three times on the front door. I was compiling my apology in my head as her mother answered the door with a fond smile on her face. Jasmine may have had her mothers bright blue eyes, but everything else made you wonder if they were related. Her mother had thick, black hair with olive skin and a plump body. She was a very quiet woman, but was very pleasant in her own way.

“Oh, Kayla,” she said a little surprised, “it’s a little late...”

“It will only take a few minutes, I just forgot to tell Jasmine something at school,” I said quickly, hoping that she wouldn’t take nine o’clock as too late.

“All right, she is in her room,” she smiled kindly. “Make it quick, you both have school tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” I grinned, kicking off my boots and hurrying up the stairs to her room.

I knocked on the door gingerly, and waited for her muffled response before I peeked into her room. She was lying on her bed with her laptop gathering all of her focus, hardly aware that I was stepping into her domain. When the door finally closed she looked up, neither angry nor pleased to see me.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, then pushed my ramble out as quickly as possible, “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. You had every right to push me, but I-I don’t know. I was afraid my mother would get mad - not that she didn’t already - but really mad, and disappointed. I don’t even know what I want myself, but I am afraid of making her upset with me. I know that Jacob is perfect, but-“

“It’s okay,” Jasmine smiled.

I looked at her, a little perplexed, “It’s okay? Just like that?”

“I got what I wanted to hear,” she grinned wider, “you called Jacob perfect.”

I hadn’t realised the wording I used to describe him and chuckled sheepishly, allowing a slight tinge to infiltrate my cheeks. There was no hostility in Jasmine’s gaze, and it was a split second before I threw myself onto her bed and the both of us broke out into laughter.

“I felt so bad afterwards, I didn’t even get through my Chemistry,” I sighed into her pillow.

“What did your mom say?” she asked, putting her computer down.

“What do you think? ‘Stay away from boys like him’, the same old crap,” I sighed. “I’m so sick of it, though. She knew exactly what happened, and she pretended like she had no idea. It’s frustrating.”

“Who cares? You are obviously head over heels for this guy, let it be,” she smiled.

“I can’t hurt her, Jaz,” I sighed. “How would you feel if you told me to stay away from some guy, and then next thing you know, we’re getting married?”

“I would be happy for you.”

I groaned, “No you wouldn’t, you would be so disappointed in me. You probably would hate me.”

She shrugged, “There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he was obviously yours to begin with.”

“How are you so nonchalant about all of this?”

Once more, she shrugged, “Practice makes perfect.”

I groaned into my hands, “What do I do?”

“Give the heart what the heart wants,” she smiled, ruffling my hair as she spoke her words.

I groaned once more for effect and peered out of my hands at her, smiling down at me as if I had set her heart on fire in joy. Jasmine was too forgiving, or maybe this was how friends fought. They got mad, left in a huff, and then forgot everything after apologies were exchanged.

“She has eyes everywhere,” I muttered. “She’ll find out one way or another.”

“Then we have some planning to do,” she laughed.

I rolled onto my side, allowing my smile to drop from my face as I peered at my best friend. There was still another topic to be covered, and I started off slowly, “Jaz, I...”

She looked over at me expectantly, “Hm?”

But no matter how hard I willed my words to leave me mouth, they just wouldn’t come forth. I told myself that I couldn’t hide this from Jasmine any longer, no matter how foolish it was, but it was harder to say it aloud. I kept staring into those sparkling blue eyes that never toned down, and never changed their views. But maybe this would start the cycle; maybe telling her wasn’t the best idea.

“What would I do without you?” I managed to make out, placing a soft smile on my face that seemed to stretch my frown away.

She laughed loudly, “You probably would become a nun.”