The Special Two

When I went to sleep last night, I didn't expect to wake up feeling like this.

It was odd that I had expectations at all, that wasn't like me. Last night when I had fallen asleep on the couch with Jacob, some part of me thought he would stay. It was a dream, I suppose, but I thought he would have woken up next to me or on the floor. I tend to be selfish when I sleep on couches. But when I woke up this morning-sore from sleeping on a couch that hadn't been properly broken in and confused on where I was-he was nowhere to be found.

It made sense. I couldn't deny that. He had a social life obviously, he was nearly twenty. Twenty year olds don't wait around and cuddle up to seventeen year olds they haven't seen in nine years. He didn't even volunteer to help me unpack, he was doing it as a favor for his dad. It was a Friday night; he probably had a date with a girl. He might have had a party. Maybe he had a girlfriend waiting for him at home. There were plenty of reasons that he left, but each one of them left this an annoying tug-like feeling at my heart.

I didn't want him to leave me.

That part put me in a panic-stricken mood today. I'm not used to feeling that about anyone, not even the woman who sort of raised me. I've always been independent. I've never spent time having feelings for someone. Let alone someone I just met. It was a foreign concept, and I hated it. It's so clingy, so valley girl, so not me.

I sighed, and yet here I am.

The salty beach water licked my feet as I passed. Each time I flinched at the sudden cold feeling in my feet. I moved upward, away from the icy waters, and into the clusters of happy beach goers clad in bikinis and swim trunks alike.

I shoved my hands into the pocket of my warn out jeans to keep myself warm. Despite the late afternoon sun baking the residents, it was still a fifteen-degree difference than the coldest days in Tampa. My violet V-neck wasn't doing much to trap any heat in, but it was the best I had. La Push typically avoided the rain that was associated with its neighbor, Forks, but it wasn't Florida. So much of my wardrobe was rendered useless, save for a few pairs of jeans and cardigans.

A flat black rock caught my eye a few yards away and I made my way over, careful to avoid the drooping branches and shrubs that kept it away from the sun. It was the first time I had seen First Beach since I was eight. I watched the little kids by the blue umbrella throw handfuls of sand at one another and sprint off into the waves laughing with observant parents a few feet away. At the cold water's edge, a woman in a white dress with her dark brown hair chopped in a messy bob walked with a tan man, their fingers loosely intertwined. I averted my gaze, feeling intrusive, and focused on the sun. Overall, it was a beautiful day, except for a slight breeze.

I pulled my knees into my chest and tried to remember when I was here last. It wasn't hard, once I pushed out a brick in the mental wall I had created the memory popped out with grace. First Beach was a place that I remembered more vividly than my home.

The three of us would come out here as often as we could. It was warmer back then; at least, it felt that way. Dad used to carry me into the water on his shoulders and tell me to look at the water.

Not at the surface, he'd say, that's where most people look. They only see their reflection, and then they get bored and go back to their lives, missing out on the treasures. Look underneath.

I saw a world filled with creatures more interesting than comic books and cartoons. He would stand out there for hours with me, pointing out different sea creatures and how they relate to the larger circle. I remember going back a year later, when I was eight, after his accident. I stared into the water for the world we had created together, but I only saw my reflection.

I wiped a stray tear from my cheek, pushed the memories back into the wall, and stuck the brick back. I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and laughed at myself in a sad way. I had set myself up for this. I released my stiff legs from their position near my chest and locked my jaw. The families had gone as the afternoon had turned into early evening.

"You space out a lot." A husky voice called from my left.

I turned sharply in that direction as a spark ran down my spine.

"I get lost in my thoughts," I replied defensively.

Jake put his hands up in surrender, "Sorry, sorry."

I shook my head and sighed, mentally scolding myself for being rude. I didn't exactly want to give people reasons to hate me. I might be able to move back to Florida, everyone already made up their own reasons there...

I shook my head once more.

"What are you doing here?"

He shimmied out of his sweatshirt as I walked over to him, "I just had the sudden urge to go to the beach."

Being within a foot of Jake took off the edge of my overactive nerves.

"Really?" I asked curiously, and pushed my fingers into my pockets.

Jake rolled his eyes at my skepticism, "Really." He added a light laugh.

He walked around me and placed his jacket on my shoulders, where it proceeded to swallow me alive. It felt like it had been lying on a heater all day and it kept the breeze from touching me, as if I was in a heated bubble.

I turned to face him, leaving my hands awkwardly in my pockets.

"I-um, uh-thanks." I stammered and carefully put my arms in the jacket as if it was going to be taken from me in a matter of seconds.

He nodded with a strange look in his eyes. Jake closed the small gap between us and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, sending my heart in a desperate frenzy. I attempted to swallow the enormous lump in my throat.

I wasn't used to this. Yeah, that's a problem.

"Thank you." I said so softly it was almost a whisper.

I was looking at him, wide eyed, as my heartbeat was rapidly approaching one hundred beats per minute. My cheeks were warm, and I realized I was blushing. I stared up into his big brown eyes rimmed by dark lashes and tried to calm my erratic heartbeat. He let his hand graze my cheek, leaving a trail of fire in its place.

His eyes locked with mine and they showed a variety of emotions, one of them more evident than the rest.

"Clara, do you remember any of the old legends?"

It took me a minute to respond. It was not what I was expecting. Embarrassed, I racked my scrambled brain for any stories my dad used to tell me.

"You mean the 'descending from wolves' ones?" I stated with air quotes, the arms of the sweatshirt looking like giant black wings.

"Yes." He nodded his head and a small smile played across his lips, "How much more do you remember?"

"Nothing." I said bluntly.

Within seconds, his face hardened in a way that made me retreat backward. Jake's brown eyes turned into a black vortex and his locked jaw caused a muscle in his neck to bulge. The last time I saw Sandra popped into my head, I took a few more steps back. A look of utter repulsion crossed his dark features and in a blink of an eye he was halfway down the beach...to the parking lot...gone.

I looked around the beach to see if anyone had witnessed our little encounter, but it was virtually empty. Something was wrong with me. These feelings weren't real. I didn't see what I thought I did. These sorts of things aren't meant to happen to me. It's not real.

Jacob Black can’t play with my heart.