Blinded

Something about Jacob picking up Bella - kidnapping her, really - made me . . . upset. I think Angela, Yvonne and Tyler suspect me to be jealous, but that is definitely not it. Bella and Jacob were friends first. They could do whatever they wanted together. That is perfectly fine with me. I am perfectly fine. I was not jealous.

I at least thought I would see him again after we made up on Saturday, but last Friday was the only time I even heard his voice thereafter. I even called to ask if I could go over, but he was not home. He had not been home since he kidnapped Bella. Either he had one crazy social life or he just did not want to see me.

“Oh my gosh. Finals were hard, weren't they?” Yvonne asked me over the phone.

“They're going to be even harder if we don't go to bed soon,” I told her. My eyes were drooping and fighting consciousness. “This can't be good for us, Yvonne.”

“Mariabella you're mumbling,” she laughed. “I'm sorry. I took a shower so I could stay up and continue studying, but I guess I shouldn't put you through that. Goodnight, Italiana.”

“You've talked to Mike Newton, haven't you?”

“I thought it was a cute nickname,” she admitted.

“Goodnight. Don't stay up too late. You want to get through the second day of Finals without falling asleep, don‘t you?”

“Yes, Mariabella.”

I had fallen asleep within seconds.

|-*-|

“You keep coming back out here,” a man said, “and you're going to get yourself killed. Or worse.”

“What could be worse than being killed?” I asked while being pulled, and my feet were trying to keep up with the fast pace the man was pulling me at.

For once, I came into this world with my sight, and I could see the same surroundings I saw when I first came here, when I first saw the russet wolf: green, brown, gray; trees, bushes, leaves on trees and leaves on the ground; lastly twigs, tons of them, and uprooted tree branches that never ceased to trip me.

He was in front of me but he did not turn around, so all I could see of him was the back of his head. He was tall, and his black hair was covering the back of his neck; it was a bit choppy but not bad looking, and it barely went passed his ears. It was familiar in a way. He also had no shirt, just shorts, and no shoes. He had tanned skin, and I could see the muscles in his back, in his arm. His hand ate my own, basically. He was pretty huge; I was surprised I did not feel scared at all being with him. In fact, I felt safe. I don't even know who he is; his name escapes me.

“I could lose you,” he mumbles, and if I probably didn't have a heightened sense of hearing, I probably wouldn't have caught it with the pouring rain. I felt it seeping through my clothes, felt the chill reaching my bones. “I could lose you to her.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Her? You mean -”

“Who else wants to suck you dry and make you part of her army?” he snaps. He hops over a fallen log and I have to be quick to not trip over it. “You heard Bella's boyfriend: She wants you because you're blind.”

“That just makes me less able to do anything,” I retort. “That makes me vulnerable.”

“If that's so, then why the hell do you keep on coming out here?! You never listen to me!” he shouts, and this time we stop. He had turned around and let go of my wrist. I had not realized how hot his touch felt to my skin and it was almost unbearable when the cold hit it. I wanted to feel his touch to get the warmth again.

“Don't lose your temper,” I warn him as I watch him panting, and when he turns to face me I look at his face for the first time.

Handsome, I guess, but it was twisted with anger and violence; it was in his brown eyes as well. I did not get to observe his face for too long because he burst, and a wolf's face had taken place of his human features. It was that same wolf I always saw. No wonder I was able to see once I entered this strange place, which I guessed was my new home in Forks, Washington.

“Mariabella,” a voice crooned - a female voice. I looked around, finding nothing, but I did find the wolf becoming restless and growling, his teeth bared and making him look like the vicious creature he is.

“You have great power,” the voice crooned again, her voice high pitched, almost like a child‘s. “We just need to awaken you.”

I felt cold touching my arm and its fingers wrapped around my upper arm. A woman stood in front of me, a woman who reminded me of my mother. The only difference was her hair was red, and her voice sounded too high. Her smile was stunning, dangerous, and she took a large exhale before baring her teeth. I found blackness surrounding her. Before things went all black, she was attacked by the wolf, and I had fallen to the wet, leafy, twig filled ground.

|-*-|

I woke up suddenly and my heart was pounding as beads of sweat dripped down my forehead. No wonder I felt the heat in my dream: I was hot out here in the real world.

I had no idea what time it was, but I listened closely to the sound emanating from my window. Sniffing, huffing, and slight whimpering. Even the crickets had stopped playing their songs when a wolf’s cry rang through the forest.

Since there were crickets, I assumed it was still night, and I tried to lie back down and close my eyes. I pushed the covers off of me and felt something jump onto the bed, followed by the feel of soft fur at my feet, then touching my legs. Some crazy part of me immediately thought of the wolf from my dream, but of course that could not be possible. No such wolf existed. It was just Romeo, my golden retriever . . . that Jacob could smell.

I hated to admit it, but I missed him.

I must have fallen asleep again and it must have been a dreamless sleep, because it felt like I closed my eyes one second only to be woken up by my alarm and the sound of my aunt calling for me to wake up the next.

|-*-|

Second day of Finals were over, thank God, and I was waiting by the entrance where I always met Angela to go home. When she finally came she was telling me some nonsense about not being able to take me home.

“What? You promised to take me to get that fruit cobbler today!” I shouted. I don’t joke around when it comes to a fruity dessert.

“I know, I know, but we‘re working on the yard and Mom needs me home right away,” Angela explained. “Sorry I didn‘t tell you earlier, but you know, they lock you in class for those darned test. Aunt Cara just called me and told me, um, someone is coming to pick you up.”

“Someone?” I asked her and she began leading me somewhere. “And where are you taking me?”

“The, uh, curb,” she answered, and I heard a faint rumbling sound.

“Who is coming to pick me up, Angela?”

“You‘ll find out right now,” she said, and it sounded as if she was speaking through clenched teeth.

The rumbling got louder, and louder, and there was a loud screech. A car door opened, closed, and I felt Angela’s fingers dig into my shoulder.

“You better not drive like that when she‘s in the car, Jacob,” Angela scolded. “I want her home alive, please.” She gets protective of me, if it was not obvious. She was usually the nice, lenient one.

But of course, I was tuned into one voice that belonged to a Quileute. “I promise to get her home alive,” he swore, and I heard the sincerity on his voice. “Come on, Mariabella.”

“Bye Ang,” I said while being pushed lightly and soon feeling a warm hand engulf mine and pull me forward. “I‘ll call you when I get home, okay?”

“You better,” she mumbled, and I was led to the car door.

Jacob did not have me lift a finger. Once I got in he strapped my seatbelt for me and closed the door. I felt the car pull forward and the growl emanating from this when he came had softened, and I could tell when he promised to get me home alive he must have actually meant it and taken it seriously. Strange, but I found it genuinely sweet.

“So how have you -” I was suddenly interrupted by the roar of the engine and was given slight whiplash when the car jolted forward.

“We just got out of sight of your cousin,” Jacob explained, “so that‘s why I sped up.”

“In a hurry, Jacob?” I asked, rather nervous. I was holding onto the bottom of my seat with all my might.

“Just a tad,” he admitted. “What were you saying?”

“Oh, um, how are you?” I asked, somewhat scared. “We haven‘t spoken since we saw each other at the beach.”

“I know, and I‘m sorry about that,” he muttered. “I‘ve been . . . busy.”

“Are you busy later?” I asked curiously. “Would you want to stay for dinner? I‘m making dinner tonight. And I promised you that I would make you food sometime, like you promised my uncle cheese.”

“He‘s never getting his cheese,” I heard Jacob say under his breath.

I held on even tighter when Jacob made the third turn, and I was expecting the fourth turn soon, preparing myself for another jolting and tossing that came from the momentum of the car as it turned.

“So will you?” I asked him, and I admit that I was too hopeful. Suddenly the car jerked forward, came to a halt, and I felt an arm against my torso. “What - ?”

“You were about to say hello to the dash with your face,” he told me.

“I said hi to the floor with my face the other day,” I mentioned. “My face has said hello enough, I believe.”

He began to laugh but he cut himself off, clearing his throat afterwards. “No,” he said after a moment.

“No?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “No I will not come over.”

“Why?” I asked bluntly.

“Because I have to go. I‘m meeting Bella and . . . Edward . . . somewhere. I told her I would be there already.”

Why did that anger me so?

“Oh, of course,” I say, my hand on the door. “When it comes to Bella you drop everything.” What was with my sudden bitterness? I actually liked Bella.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he said, a slight bitterness in his voice as well.

“I don‘t mean it like that, Jacob, I just mean that I get it. You two are best friends and I‘m the blind girl getting in the way.”

“Haven‘t we been over this?” he snapped. “I‘m not choosing her over you just because you‘re blind. She just . . . she just means a lot to me.”

I opened the door. “Goodbye, Jacob,” I said, but I was pulled back by wide hands on my hips, forcing me to sit back down. “Don‘t you have to go?”

“Just - just hold on,” he said, and I felt his arm brush my chin as he reached for the door and close it. I felt his breath tickle my nose; I hadn’t realized how close he was. “I need to say something.”

“What?” I asked curiously.

He sighed, and I could tell he was a bit frustrated and panicky. But why? “Don‘t blind people figure out how someone looks by touching them?” I nod and shrug. “And you get familiar with their touch?” I nod again. “Is - is that what happened when you knew it was me pretending to be someone else when you met my broth - my friends?”

“Yes, I learn a touch and a voice pretty easily,” I tell him.

“Are . . . are you curious to find out what I look like?”

I never really wanted to admit it, but I wanted to - really wanted to - know what he looked like. I don’t do that too often, but with family I do because they were the ones to start it. I don’t really do it with friends because I’m afraid they’ll think it’s weird. But with Jacob . . . I just wanted to match the face with the voice. I wanted to know if he had a small nose, a larger nose, high cheek bones, tight jaw, all the things I suspected to match his voice.

“Do you mind?” I whisper.

He grabbed my wrists, sighed, and I heard him whisper a soft, soft yes. He pulled my hands forward and my fingers brushed his warm, soft skin, and I felt his cheeks, which were a bit warmer than the rest of his face. He had a slightly angular jaw, one that was tight, like I expected. I traced his nose with my finger and found it round at the tip, slightly narrow, but more button-nose than ski jump like my father. His eyebrows were not bushy, but narrow and skinny. They were arched, and I expected him to be scowling.

I stopped at his chin; I did not dare to go farther up to his lips. Something about touching his lips made my heart race, and I heard him taking deep inhales, breathing through his nose, and flexing his jaw. I was breathing shallowly myself.

The one thing that scared me when touching his face was that it was if I had already known what it looked like; it felt familiar, so familiar that some part of me knew what shape his nose was, how bushy his eyebrows were, how his jaw looked when I felt it flex and lock - where every feature was and how it looked.

“I‘m done,” I whispered. I took my hands off of him before I opened my door. “You better go before you miss Bella.”

The car started. “Sure, sure,” he muttered, and when I stepped on the first step of the porch I heard the car leave, and the gravel cried underneath the weight and speed of the tires.

From what I felt of his face, he seemed handsome, intense, and angry, but that wasn’t news; he was angry most of the time. But handsome? It was like I already knew what his face looked like.

My fingers still burned when I dialed Angela’s number.