Sophie is strange, anyone can see that. But her entire world is turned upside down when she becomes fascinated with the Cullen's. They slowly become friends, but what will happen when the Cullen's discover she has a secret of her own? And what will a certain werewolf think of all this? (Post Breaking Dawn, no renesmee.)
5. Chapter 5
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Before I knew it, I was speeding along the highway, wind in my hair, feeling happy. I let myself laugh out loud, feeling free as my jingling voice echoed off the trees. The rain had already started to pour. Can’t escape rain for long here. That happiness didn’t last though. I hit a piece of glass, and my tire went flat about a mile from La Push.
I tried to pick it up, but quickly abandoned that idea as I realized the bike was much heavier than I’d suspected. It seemed I had been out in the pouring rain for over five minutes when a tall dark figure rounded the corner in some sort of Volkswagen. I looked down, shy, and avoiding looking at the driver. The Cullen’s were different, but I could not trust anyone.
I glanced up, and immediately wished I hadn’t. He had gotten out of his car, and was walking straight towards me. He was huge. He wore only a pair of faded cut-off jeans and a pair of white sneakers. I looked down but I could still feel him staring at the back of my neck.
“What are you doing here?” He demanded. I stared at my bike, avoiding his gaze, feeling the blush come into my cheeks.
He touched my arm, and I heard him gasp.
“You’re so…warm.” He said slowly. “I wasn’t expecting that.” I decided to risk talking to him. He seemed nice, after all.
“What do you mean?” I asked slowly. “Warm?” I looked up, and met his friendly gaze. His eyes expression changed from helpful to…Something. I couldn’t help being confused as he stood up and stared at me like….I was the greatest thing he’s ever seen. Like he was looking for something, and found it. I just sat there, frozen by his stare. He shook his head as if he was reminding himself I had asked him a question.
“Oh, nothing. Never mind.” He said quickly. And then he smiled. I couldn’t help smiling back; I was lost in his eyes. He broke off from my stare to lean down and help me up. His hands were so warm, so unlike what I was used to. I only really talked to the Cullen’s; I’m not used to warm. But that’s not what startled me. As he touched my hands I felt a huge bolt of electricity run though me. I looked up and he smiled again.
“Hi, my name is Jacob Black.” Jacob.
“Bella’s Jacob?” I asked, speaking before I thought about it. Bella had told me briefly in P.E. about Jacob who lived with her family, but stayed in La Push at this time. She hadn’t said why. He hesitated.
“You know Bella?” He asked, uncomfortable.
“I…guess…I’m Bella’s Jacob.” He mumbled, frowning, dropping his eyes from my face. I struggled to meet his gaze.
“I’m Sophie.” He looked up.
“Sophie Taylor.” I continued, smiling. He smiled back.
“Sophie.” He whispered. It was then I realized he was still holding my hands. I pulled them free, and picked up my bike. He seemed to just remember it was there.
“You like motorbikes?” He questioned eagerly. I nodded, still smiling like an idiot.
“You do realize its pouring rain though, right?” He teased.
“My car isn’t working right.” I sighed. How I missed my car.
“You know,” He started shyly. “I’m a bit of a mechanic myself. Want me to take a look at it? Maybe tomorrow?”
“Alright.” I said, still feeling the tingle from the electricity that passed through us in the tips of my fingers.
“Do you want a ride home?” He asked, glancing at my flat tire.
“Sure!” I said a bit too eagerly. I looked back at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He picked my bike up with little effort and placed it in the back of his car. He guided me around to the passenger side, and then jumped in the driver’s side.
“What kind of car is this?” I asked suddenly, wanting to hear his husky voice more than the answer. He laughed.
“It’s an old Rabbit-1986, a classic. I rebuilt it myself.” I looked at him, and he was glowing with pride. Eager to keep him talking, I asked him another question.
“How old are you Jacob?” He glanced at me, warily, and looked back.
“Sixteen.” He said uncertainly. Then his smile came back.
“You?” He asked politely.
“Seventeen.” Too soon we reached my house. Unwilling to end my time with Jacob, I slowly crawled out of the car. I turned around, and smiled at him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked eagerly. His answering smile was blinding.
“Tomorrow.” He agreed. I stood in the rain, watching him drive away until he was no more than a blur on the road.