Plummet

After the plane landed and I’d picked up my luggage, I looked around diffidently for my dad. I hadn’t seen him since summer break, but I was sure I’d recognize him.

So where was he?

I stood around, looking at all of the people surrounding me. They weren’t feeling this uncertainty. They knew that they’d be picked up, that whoever they were waiting on hadn’t, for whatever reason, decided not to show.

What if I got stuck here? What if he’d changed his mind and didn’t want me staying with him, after all? What if he simply never came?

“Remy? Remy Conroy?” someone called from behind me. I turned.

Who was he, I thought, stunned into place, and why was he calling my name? “I’m Remy,” I called after unfreezing. I took a hesitant step toward him.

He looked my way. He was tall. Very tall. I myself was five feet, six inches, and he towered over me. I shook my head at myself. I was being ridiculous. Why should some guy I didn’t know intimidate me? I walked as confidently as I could over to him.

“I’m Jacob Black,” he said. “And your father asked me to pick you up. He’s had a bit of an emergency at work so he couldn’t make it. But he said he’d be home for dinner.” I stared at him stupidly.

“I don’t know you,” I said. He looked amused and didn’t say anything. “Well, what if you’re trying to abduct me? How do I know you’re really here because my dad asked you to be?”

Jacob laughed, actually laughed. “There’s one way to find out.” He took my suitcases from me as if they were weightless and I followed after him.

He made a good point.

In the end, it turned out Jacob wasn’t a creep. After a strangely comfortable car ride- we chatted easily the whole time- he pulled into my dad’s driveway and even helped me carry my luggage in.

He was about to leave when he diffidently rubbed his neck and gave me a considering look. “Why don’t you hang out with me and my friends? We’re going out for ice cream.”

Refusal was on the tip of my tongue, but I bit it and made myself nod. It would do no good to push away a friendly invitation here. I didn’t want to be completely friendless, and Jacob seemed like someone I could enjoy being around.

I waited at the table while Jacob ordered and paid for our ice cream- he insisted that I not pay this time, because it was my birthday. I felt bad going along with it, but not bad enough to argue too much. I needed to get a job and start saving up money, I knew. I didn’t want to leech off of my dad forever.

I saw a couple of boys join Jacob in line. They were crazy tall like he was, and I could see the three of them huddled together in a corner while they waited for the workers to put together their orders. It was obvious they were discussing something they didn’t want overheard.

I hoped to God they weren’t talking about me. I hated it when people did, because people don’t tend to say nice things about others, especially people they’ve only just met.

But neither boy glanced back at me, and Jake was grimacing. So it was probably something else. I looked away and felt my cheeks heat. I didn’t normally ogle so openly, even when they were three attractive guys. I preferred to play it cool.

I was half Irish, half Quileute. And thanks to my Irish blood, I blushed ridiculously easily. Thanks, Mom.

Note the sarcasm.

After what likely seemed like a longer time than truly passed, Jacob came to the table, with his friends following close behind. I smiled up at him and he sat across from me. His friends, though, weren’t moving.

The one was staring at me so intensely I felt immediately uncomfortable and blushed deeper, looking down at my lap. The other friend, who was standing behind him, nearly collided and had to fumble a little to keep from dropping the heaps of ice cream he was carrying.

How could he possibly plan on eating so much?

I glanced up at Jake and saw him look at his friend, the one who was still staring at me, do a double-take, and burst into laughter.

I coughed uncomfortably. This wasn’t how I imagined my birthday.

“This,” Jake said after he was done laughing, “is Remy. She just moved here. Remy, that idiot is Embry, and behind him is Paul.”

I smiled awkwardly, focusing more on Paul because Embry was making me uncomfortable. “It’s nice to meet you.” I felt obligated to say it, but I didn’t know whether I was lying yet. And I detested lying. So I glanced back to Jake, who was still looking wickedly amused. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Here’s your ice cream.” He handed over my cup.

“It’s not ice cream,” I argued. “It’s a milkshake.”

“Milkshakes are ice cream, Remy,” Jake challenged. I grinned.

This was just the kind of conversation that could break the sort of tension that was clogging up the air. “Then why aren’t they called ice cream, hm?” I stuck my tongue out at Jake and he laughed, but didn’t answer. He was too busy shoveling ice cream in his face.

Embry took the seat next to me, and in the process of sitting down, scooted the chair uncomfortably close to mine.

I’d always been a big advocate of personal space. Too close, in my book, was anything less than a foot away.

I didn’t like the feeling I always got when people were closer than that. I could feel that they were close. People’s presence makes the air hum with energy, and it’s uncomfortable.

Whenever I explained that to someone, they didn’t understand it. But even though I knew I was being absurd, that didn’t stop me from shrinking away from people.

So I sat on the farthest corner of my chair, crushing myself against the wall to try and keep myself away from him. He noticed and looked mildly hurt.

I wanted to apologize, to explain, but I didn’t know how, so I shut my mouth and drank my milkshake.