Ash Over Seas

Gym was a breeze, as I expected it to be. Atticus was really getting worked up over nothing. It had been years, after all. We played dodgeball and—if I dare say—I kicked ass. It wasn’t unusual, though. My reflexes were better than most anyone in the class, aside from the shape shifters… but they didn’t know I knew their secret, so it was fun to mess with them.

Study hall was not as boring as I’d expected, seeing as I had it with Seth Clearwater who was quite possibly the most cheerful person I had ever met. We spent the entire block goofing off, getting kicked out of the library and talking about La Push in general. I found myself quite glad that my father had sent us here rather than Forks; La Push seemed so much friendlier.

So it was in a great mood that I entered my last block of the day: History. And let me tell you, for me to be entering a History classroom feeling optimistic, I must have had a great day. History was not my thing.

I walked in, recognizing a few faces already from my other classes, but didn’t see anyone I knew well so I decided to set up camp near the back of the room. I wasn’t planning on paying attention at all in this class so I made myself comfortable and propped my crossed ankles upon the rickety fake-wood table in front of me.

I glanced up as the tall form of Jacob Black sauntered with effortless grace into the classroom. He immediately found me and broke into a grin, walking with purpose to my seat in the back. I noticed that many of the girls watched him in surprise and—for some—disappointment. They were all like that with the pack. I found it slightly amusing.

“Hey, Black,” I greeted casually as the handsome boy slid into the empty seat beside me, dropping his books onto the table next to mine.

“Hello to you,” he nodded. “You look awfully comfortable.”

I shrugged and shot him a crooked smile that usually killed boys. I smiled slightly in satisfaction as I heard his heart speed up just slightly. “History’s not really my thing. I’m permanently allotting this class to daydreaming.”

“About me, right?” he threw me a wink and my cheeks flushed slightly.

“Sure, Black, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

He was about to retort when a squat old man with bushy white hair and an absurd handlebar moustache waddled into the room, rapping his clipboard on the desk smartly.

“What is with this guy?” I snorted.

“Giovanangelli’s a beast,” Jacob chuckled. “You're lucky I’m here. If history’s not your thing it’s likely you won’t do well. This guy means business.”

I snorted once more—very ladylike—and settled further into my seat.

“YOU, in the back,” the man barked. “Feet off the table!”

I rolled my eyes and complied, ignoring the ‘I-told-you-so’ look from my seatmate.

“Now,” Giovanangelli continued in a businesslike manner. Despite his short height and ample stature, he seemed to be quite in control of his classroom. “We’ll be starting off today with a map of our first unit: Europe. So I’m going to pass them out and I’d like you to get in pairs and work quietly on the assignment. I’ll be collecting it at the end of the block. Go.”

The chatter erupted immediately as people searched the room to pair up with their friends.

“Psst!” I heard from beside me and looked to see a boy I recognized from Calculus. “Partners?”

I opened my mouth to reply but Jacob had beaten me to it.

“Sorry, she’s taken,” he said smugly as he lounged back in his seat. The boy looked to me for confirmation and I sighed, glancing back at Jacob briefly, who gave me a challenging stare.

“Maybe next time?” I said politely to the boy.

He nodded and turned back to his seatmate while I turned to mine.

“Taken, eh?”

He just shrugged and sat forward in his seat. “I’m staking my claim on you for this class.”

I let out a wry laugh as I accepted the map and list of landmarks from Giovanangelli, opening my book to the page instructed.

Half an hour later found us arguing about the boundaries of the Roman Empire.

“No, you're stretching it too far right! It didn’t go all that way!” I said, slapping at his hand as he traced along the paper.

He hissed and retracted it in pain, gazing at me with shock. “What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“How do you even know you're right?”

“Because I do.”

“You said you hated history!”

“You said you were good at history!”

“I am!”

I snorted. “Not so far,” I teased, throwing him a smug smile. He glared playfully and shoved the pencil in my hand.

“Fine. You do it.”

“I will,” I said simply as I began tracing the proper boundary.

“So do you miss London at all?” he asked, easily forgetting our little quarrel as he watched my hand graze across the map.

I shrugged. “Not really. I haven’t been in school for a while so I didn’t really have many friends to say goodbye to.”

He pursed his lips. “That sucks.”

I shrugged again. “I had Atticus.”

He shot me a flat look. “I stand with my previous statement.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “He’s really not that bad. He just keeps to himself mostly. But he’s loyal and a good brother; he watches out for me. A little too much, sometimes, though he denies it.”

“That’s comforting to know,” he mused.

“Comforting?”

“That you're safe at home.”

I stared at him oddly. “You La Push people get attached fast, don’t you?”

He grimaced. “Something like that.”

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of school, I stuffed my books into my bag, tossing our less-than-perfect map on Giovanangelli’s desk and heading out into the hallway with Jacob trailing by my side.

“Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be,” I said earnestly, throwing my companion another smile.

“That’s cause I was there, obviously,” he chuckled.

“Obviously,” I replied sarcastically.

I stopped at my locker quickly to throw my books in and Jacob leaned against the one next to mine, oblivious to the fact that its owner—a small, mousy-haired freshman—was trying to get to it.

“Need a ride home?” he asked, looking much like a perfectly carved statue as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared down at me. My unnaturally fast heartbeat raced a little quicker as I locked eyes with him.

“I’m already riding with Atticus,” I replied with sincere disappointment. I noticed the freshman angling out ways to get to his locker and chuckled.

“Jake, you're in the way,” I said, grasping his wrist and pulling him off the locker, much to the small boy’s relief. I felt a slight shock in my stomach as I grasped his arm, that didn’t feel as cold to me as it should have. It was actually warmer than my skin, which was something very unusual.

“Your skin is really warm,” he said, puzzled.

“I could say the same for yourself,” I replied, raising my brows as we took off for the parking lot. He grimaced but didn’t elaborate. I didn’t expect him to. I knew that the shape shifters were abnormally warm, and I knew they turned into wolves to destroy vampires… but that was about all I knew about them.

I smiled and waved politely as I saw Atticus waiting by his Forester, leaning as casually as always.

“I’ll see you later, Jake,” I smiled and departed for my gloomy brother. “Hey, Attie, how was your day? Filled with cobwebs and spiders as usual?” I teased as I slid into the passenger seat.

He rolled his eyes and started the car, speeding swiftly out of the parking lot.

“You seem close with the shape shifters,” he commented.

I shrugged. “Yeah, they're nice. You should talk to them.”

He threw me a doubtful glance and I sighed.

“How was gym?” he asked darkly.

“Atticus,” I said, laughing at his ridiculous notions. “It was fine. Nothing wrong in the slightest.”

“For now.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to debate this with you, Attie. It’s been years.”

He didn’t answer and as we pulled into the driveway, I climbed out without a word and strode into the house. Finding a note on the fridge telling us that father was over at the Cullens for a while, I pulled open the door and grabbed two sodas, tossing one to my brother who caught it without even looking.

“I want to go for a walk,” I mused several hours later when I was stuck with nothing better to do.

“You went for one a few days ago.”

“I want to go for another one.”

“No.”

“You're not Father. I’m going whether you like it or not. If you come you can even run, I know you haven’t done that in a long time, you must be itching to.”

Atticus glanced out the window, surveying the weather before muttering “Fine” and tossing me my rain jacket—I knew that would convince him. I pulled it on and headed out the door, surprised at the cold. I shivered and let out a slight cough. Atticus scowled threateningly in my direction but I waved him off, pulling the jacket tighter around my body as I ventured into the thick woods.