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Emme Fenway's life is heating up, spurred on by her father's death and an impromptu move across the country.
That heat isn't the problem, though. The problem is that Quileute boy, and he's bringing a heat all his own...


4. Quiver.

Rating 0/5   Word Count 2246   Review this Chapter

That weekend we organized a trip to La Push, with Edward picking us up bright and early Saturday morning. I was happy with my nose pressed up against the glass of the Volvo, watching the trees blur by me. I was completely out of the conversation, of course, since everyone knows that Emme is only supposed to sit around and look pretty. Human interaction isn’t required, right? I shifted my weight, the buttons on my back pockets threatening to injure me at their awkward angle. Everything about me looked awkward, especially for Forks.

There had been an… accident with a tub of petroleum jelly in my suitcase and half my clothes were totally ruined. But that wasn’t the kicker. The kicker was that half of my remaining clothes were the ‘summer- time’ sort. So here I was, heading for La Push dressed in dark khaki shorts with these huge buttons like Mickey Mouse on the pockets and a sleeveless yellow sunny day shirt. I hadn’t even grabbed a jacket.

I felt ridiculously stupid, I must say.

Sighing, I unbuckled and spread myself across the back, resting my head on the door. I closed my eyes, feigning sleep and tried to catch some of the conversation going on in the front. From what I could grasp, they thought I was too stupid to listen in on their hissing voices, and Edward was incredibly anti-La Push. Bummer. I would have to ask him about that. I opened an eye and quirked a brow as he hissed something I couldn’t make out to Bella and they both abruptly shut up. Odd. I closed my eyes again.

“Wake up, Emme,” Bella said, hopping out of the car and opening the door I was leaning against. I began to plummet to the earth before I caught myself.

“Gee, thanks Bella,” I grumbled, wrenching myself to my feet. I examined my hands where I caught myself. They were gravelly and bloody. Shit, I thought.

“Did you hurt yourself?” Bella asked, slightly concerned. She fell down and injured herself often enough to be properly concerned.

“A little,” I mumbled, shoving my bloody hands into Edward’s face. “Look what your girlfriend did to me!”

Edward’s eyes went wide and he paled. I didn’t think that was possible. They guy was white. Like snow. I was fairly sure he moon tanned to get even paler. Beside me Bella swayed and I remembered her distaste for blood. I clenched my bloody hands painfully and tromped away from the car… straight into the road.

“Uhm, Bella? I thought we were going to La Push?” I asked uncertainly.

“We are,” Bella said, breaking her eyes away from Edward’s. They had been having a ‘moment.’

I looked at her skeptically. “Really? ‘Cause I remember La Push being quite different.” I looked around the bare asphalt road. “More poetic then this, really. You know why, Bella?”

Bella scooped her purse out of the front seat and motioned for me to follow her, “Why, Em?”

“Because this, Bella, is a road,” I stated plainly, shivering slightly.

Bella snorted, “You’re so silly, Em. We’re meeting Jacob here. See, he’s right there.” She pointed to a tall figure beside an older looking car.

I stopped walking and my mouth formed into a small ‘O’ with realization. I clutched my arms around myself against the cold, noticing my goose pimples for the first time. I examined my arm, brushing my fingers across the bumps like I could push them back in, and made a mad dash for Jacob’s car. It didn’t look exactly new, but I was pretty sure standard heating and cooling, preferably heating, wasn’t all that new of an invention. I skidded past Jacob with a yelped hello and shoved myself in the back seat, slamming the door behind me.

Outside of the car I caught the muffled sounds of a hello. I crossed my arms and huffed. It was no better in here with the car off than it was out there. Grumbling, I shoved myself over the console, something I was doing a lot lately, and twisted the key in the ignition roughly, followed by a quick snap of the thermostat from cool to hot. I shivered more as the heat started rushing around the car, making my goose pimples more pronounced. I shuddered, jumping the console completely and settling in the passenger’s seat.

The door clicked and opened. “What are you doing, Emme? I thought you were in the back.”

“I was,” I said brightly, looking up when Bella opened the door letting in a rush of cold air. Beside me Jacob slipped into the driver’s side. I glanced at him sideways. He looked at least twenty years old, which was weird since he was barely a year older than me, if that. I looked down at myself; I still looked very much sixteen. I looked back up at Bella, where she stood leaning against the car door, tapping her foot.

“Well get back there,” Bella said simply. I stared.

“I rode in the back of the Volvo,” I insisted.

Bella rolled her eyes, slamming the door and climbing in the back. “Fine. Whatever, Emme.”

We pulled around a corner and the stretch of road where Edward left us disappeared. Jacob turned off the heater and I stared at him stupidly, flicking it back on. Calmly, he reached out a russet hand and swiped it off again.

“So it’s Emme, now?” Jacob asked, seemingly unaffected by the cold.

“Yep, you crazy warm-blooded creature you,” I said, turning the heat back on. “It has been for the past year. Where have you been?”

“La Push,” Bella said sarcastically.

“Har har, okay, stupid question,” I admitted. Jacob laughed. I swatted at him playfully, calling him some particularly nasty names I had for him from when we were younger. Or at least they had been nasty then.

“Only you, Emmette. Only you.” He turned the heater back off. “Where the hell did you ever come up with butterfaced bonehead, anyway?” Jacob mocked, eyes on me and not the road. He was shaking with hardly contained laughter.

“Well its true, knothead! You were butterfaced and you are a bonehead.” I teased.

“I’m a bonehead?” he scoffed, letting it roll off his ridiculously large shoulders. “Whatever, Emme.”

“Bonehead,” I insisted, Bella laughing from the back of the Rabbit.

“I see some people never change,” Jacob sing song voiced at us.

Bella batted at him from the back, leaning over the console and aiding me in Operation Mock Jacob. “Oh whatever, Jake. You are so a bonehead and you know it.”

He cut his eyes at me, then at Bella in the rearview. “I meant you two ganging up on me,” he pouted.

I cackled, and Bella rolled. Even Jacob cracked a smile, the rest of the ride falling into comfortable conversation, if you consider an entire fifteen minutes of bagging on each other comfortable. For the most part Jacob and Bella argued, usually good-naturedly. I felt like I was being interrogated the whole time, though. It was like they were fighting for my loyalty, or at least for my support in their own bickering. I could practically smell the tension in the car, and I was pretty damn sure Jacob was in love with Bella and wished death on Edward. I giggled a little as I imagined the two of them coming to blows over my cousin, but not so much over the blows as over the horrible expression on Imaginary Bella’s face after they killed each other. Morbid much, I thought.

Jacob parked behind a nineteen eighties’ model Ford pick up and I got out of the car, Bella on his tail. I stayed put and recranked the car, turning the heat on high. I wasn’t going anywhere outside of my now toasty Volkswagen prison. I was almost happy, my icy fingers pressed up against the air vent. I closed my eyes, relaxed.

There was a tap at the door, and I jumped out of my skin. It was extremely painful, my head bonking on the roof of the car. Outside the window there was a boy wearing a baggy pair of cargoes and a t shirt with a glossy look on his face. He looked around twenty, but then again, so did Jacob. Maybe all the La Push boys were secretly on the ‘roids. Whoever he was, he was definitely the one who had been doing the tapping and he had a Seattle Seahawks sweatshirt in hand. He shook his head, clearing his expression, and tapped the glass again.

“What?” I yelled through the glass, tapping back.

“Jacob said you’d be out here in the car and to come get you before you freeze,” the boy yelled back.

I frowned. He hadn’t been concerned before when kept turning the frickin’ heat off. “Tell him I’m not going anywhere until it’s as warm out there as it is in here.”

The boy laughed, “He also said to stop wasting his gas and threw this at me to give to you.” He held up the sweat shirt.

I nodded, rolling the window all of two inches down and squeezing my hand out to receive the shirt. He gave it to me and our fingers brushed. I almost reeled back, caught off guard by the heat his skin radiated. I shrugged, turning off the car and pulling on the sweatshirt. It smelled like the outside here in the Olympic Peninsula. Damp and damp and damp. It swallowed me whole, the sleeves a good five inches past my fingertips and draping down to my knees in length. I clambered out of the car in my new ill-fitting dress, tripping slightly when I shut my too-long sleeve in the door.

I freed myself, grumbling at my lack of luck. Behind me my sweatshirt deliverer snickered. I wheeled around. “D’you have a problem?”

He snickered again, “Nope. Not one.”

I huffed, stalking to the door. He kept pace with me. “My name’s Embry, by the way.”

“Emme,” I stated coolly, hoping to put him off. It didn’t.

“So how do you know Jacob?” Embry asked. What was with the interrogations lately?

I answered calmly. “We used to play together when we were kids. I always came here to visit my cousin in the summer.”

“And who is your cousin?” Dear God, what was this? Law and Order?

“Bella,” I said, peeping in the living room in search of rescue.

“I knew it!” cried Embry. He earned a quirked brow, so I gave it to him, accompanied by a slightly pursed lip.

“Knew what?” I asked hesitantly. My mind was screaming at me that I really didn’t want to know.

“You had to be related,” he said simply. “They don’t make ‘em like you two on the rez.” He patted my head playfully, wearing a cheesy smile.

I slapped him clear across his face.

“Shit!” I screeched loud enough for all of La Push to hear, clutching my probably broken hand. The boy was made of stone! I cradled my hand against my chest and Embry laid a fiery hand on my shoulder, taking my shattered hand in his and dwarfing it in his outrageously large one. I was shocked again by how hot his skin was.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

I nodded, “I’ve broken it before. Fell in the Little Pigeon River hiking with my dad in the Park. It‘s nothing new so its not so bad.” I smiled halfheartedly and he slipped his hand from my shoulder to my back. I shivered, suddenly feeling chilled. Behind me footsteps pounded, at least four people thundering towards me from the kitchen. I turned around, spotting Jacob and a handful of Quileute boys I didn’t recognize. Bella was trotting after them as steadily as her clumsy legs would allow. I looked back at Embry, who was staring past my shoulder wide eyed. I followed his gaze past Jacob to a slightly shorter, more muscular version of my childhood friend.

Or at least that was what I would have called him if he hadn’t looked absolutely terrifying.

“Fuck,” said Embry darkly. I continued to stare at the other Quileute boy past Jacob’s shoulder.

His face was set in a dead scowl at Embry. Murderous seemed like a good adjective for him. His hair was cropped short just like everyone else’s and he seemed perfectly comfortable in the drafty hall, despite the fact he was bare-chested and his cut offs did not look exactly warm and cozy, like my swaddling sweatshirt for example. He quivered, his face becoming even angrier. Suddenly, he didn’t look a thing like Jacob anymore. He looked older, more angular, more menacing.

He quivered again.

I let out a yelp as Embry threw me down on the floor, away from him, rattling my injured hand painfully as I came to a halt near the largest of the boy’s feet. There was a ripping noise and I looked up, a shredded bit of what used to be a bleach white wife beater fluttering onto my face. Something whooshed over me and my head snapped a little too quickly to follow it, my neck protesting. My cry was strangled in my now fear-constricted throat as I watched a great silvery gray wolf mauling Embry. A human arm that was normal temperature, draped over my shoulder, accompanied by a hovering sort of presence in my peripheral vision. I instantly recognized it as Bella, doing her best to actually comfort me. I didn’t do a lick of good though.

Not even my dad could have helped stop the bloodcurdling scream that erupted from my throat.