severe.
I smiled tightly—it was still working—and ignored the questions. Jacob wasn't going to let anything
serious happen to me.
"Go home to Charlie," the voice ordered. The sheer beauty of it amazed me. I couldn't allow my memory
to lose it, no matter the price.
"Ease off slowly," Jacob encouraged me.
"I will," I said. It bothered me a bit when I realized I was answering both of them.
The voice in my head growled against the roar of the motorcycle.
Trying to focus this time, to not let the voice startle me again, I relaxed my hand by tiny degrees.
Suddenly, the gear caught and wrenched me forward.
And I was flying.
There was wind that wasn't there before, blowing my skin against my skull and flinging my hair back
behind me with enough force that it felt like someone was tugging on it. I'd left my stomach back at the
starting point; the adrenaline coursed through my body, tingling in my veins. The trees raced past me,
blurring into a wall of green.
But this was only first gear. My foot itched toward the gearshift as I twisted for more gas.
"No, Bella!" the angry, honey-sweet voice ordered in my ear. "Watch what you're doing!"
It distracted me enough from the speed to realize that the road was starting a slow curve to the left, and I
was still going straight. Jacob hadn't told me how to turn.
"Brakes, brakes," I muttered to myself, and I instinctively slammed down with my right foot, like I would
in my truck.
The bike was suddenly unstable underneath me, shivering first to one side and then the other. It was
dragging me toward the green wall, and I was going too fast. I tried to turn the handlebar the other
direction, and the sudden shift of my weight pushed the bike toward the ground, still spinning toward the
trees.
The motorcycle landed on top of me again, roaring loudly, pulling me across the wet sand until it hit
something stationary. I couldn't see. My face was mashed into the moss. I tried to lift my head, but there
was something in the way.
I was dizzy and confused. It sounded like there were three things snarling—the bike over me, the voice in
my head, and something else…
"Bella!" Jacob yelled, and I heard the roar of the other bike cut off.
The motorcycle no longer pinned me to the ground, and I rolled over to breathe. All the growling went
silent.
"Wow," I murmured. I was thrilled. This had to be it, the recipe for a hallucination—adrenaline plus
clanger plus stupidity. Something close to that, anyway.
"Bella!" Jacob was crouching over me anxiously. "Bella, are you alive?"
"I'm great!" I enthused. I flexed my arms and legs. Everything seemed to be working correctly. "Let's do
itagain."
"I don't think so." Jacob still sounded worried. "I think I'd better drive you to the hospital first."
"I'mfine."
"Um, Bella? You've got a huge cut on your forehead, and it's gushing blood," he informed me.
I clapped my hand over my head. Sure enough, it was wet and sticky. I could smell nothing but the damp
moss on my face, and that held off the nausea.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Jacob." I pushed hard against the gash, as if I could force the blood back inside my
head.
"Why are you apologizing for bleeding?" he wondered as he wrapped a long arm around my waist and
pulled me to my feet. "Let's go. I'll drive." He held out his hand for the keys.
"What about the bikes?" I asked, handing them over.
He thought for a second. "Wait here. And take this." He pulled off his T-shirt, already spotted with
blood, and threw it to me. I wadded it up and held it tightly to my forehead. I was starting to smell the
blood; I breathed deeply through my mouth and tried to concentrate on something else.
Jacob jumped on the black motorcycle, kicked it to a start in one try, and raced back down the road,
spraying sand and pebbles behind him. He looked athletic and professional as he leaned over the
handlebars, head low, face forward, his shiny hair whipping against the russet skin of his back. My eyes
narrowed enviously. I was sure I hadn't looked like that on my motorcycle.
I was surprised at how far I'd gone. I could barely see Jacob in the distance when he finally got to the
truck. He threw the bike into the bed and sprinted to the driver's side.
I really didn't feel bad at all as he coaxed my truck to a deafening roar in his hurry to get back to me. My
head stung a little, and my stomach was uneasy, but the cut wasn't serious. Head wounds just bled more
than most. His urgency wasn't necessary.
Jacob left the truck running as he raced back to me, wrapping his arm around my waist again.
"Okay, let's get you in the truck."
"I'm honestly fine," I assured him as he helped me in. "Don't get worked up. It's just a little blood."
"Just a lot of blood," I heard him mutter as he went back for my bike.
"Now, let's think about this for a second," I began when he got back in. "If you take me to the ER like
this, Charlie is sure to hear about it." I glanced down at the sand and dirt caked into my jeans.
"Bella, I think you need stitches. I'm not going to let you bleed to death."
"I won't," I promised. "Let's just take the bikes back first, and then we'll make a stop at my house so I
can dispose of the evidence before we go to the hospital."
"What about Charlie?"
"He said he had to work today."
"Are you really sure?"
"Trust me. I'm an easy bleeder. It's not nearly as dire as it looks."
Jacob wasn't happy—his full mouth turned down in an uncharacteristic frown—but he didn't want to get
me in trouble. I stared out the window, holding his ruined shirt to my head, while he drove me to Forks.
The motorcycle was better than I'd dreamed. It had served its original purpose. I'd cheated—broken my
promise. I'd been needlessly reckless. I felt a little less pathetic now that the promises had been broken
on both sides.
And then to discover the key to the hallucinations! At least, I hoped I had. I was going to test the theory
as soon as possible. Maybe they'd get through with me quickly in the ER, and I could try again tonight.
Racing down the road like that had been amazing. The feel of the wind in my face, the speed and the
freedom… it reminded me of a past life, flying through the thick forest without a road, piggyback while he
ran—I stopped thinking right there, letting the memory break off in the sudden agony. I flinched.
"You still okay?" Jacob checked.
"Yeah." I tried to sound as convincing as before.
"By the way," he added. "I'm going to disconnect your foot brake tonight."
At home, I went to look at myself in the mirror first thing; it was pretty gruesome. Blood was drying in
thick streaks across my cheek and neck, matting in my muddy hair. I examined myself clinically,
pretending the blood was paint so it wouldn't upset my stomach. I breathed through my mouth, and was
fine.
I washed up as well as I could. Then I hid my dirty, bloody clothes in the bottom of my laundry basket,
putting on new jeans and a button-up shirt （that I didn't have to pull over my head） as carefully as I could.
I managed to do this one-handed and keep both garments blood-free.
"Hurry up," Jacob called.
"Okay, okay," I shouted back. After making sure I left nothing incriminating behind me, I headed
downstairs.
"How do I look?" I asked him.
"Better," he admitted.
"But do I look like I tripped in your garage and hit my head on a hammer?"
"Sure, I guess so."
"Let's go then."
Jacob hurried me out the door, and insisted on driving again. We were halfway to the hospital when I
realized he was still shirtless.
I frowned guiltily. "We should have grabbed you a jacket."
"That would have given us away," he teased. "Besides, it's not cold."
"Are you kidding?" I shivered and reached out to turn the heat on.
I watched Jacob to see if he was just playing tough so I wouldn't worry, but he looked comfortable
enough. He had one arm over the back of my seat, though I was huddled up to keep warm.
Jacob really did look older than sixteen—not quite forty, but maybe older than me. Quil didn't have too
much on him in the muscle department, for all that Jacob claimed to be a skeleton. The muscles were the
long wiry kind, but they were definitely there under the smooth skin. His skin was such a pretty color, it
made me jealous.
Jacob noticed my scrutiny.
"What?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious.
"Nothing. I just hadn't realized before. Did you know, you're sort of beautiful?"
Once the words slipped out, I worried that he might take my impulsive observation the wrong way.
But Jacob just rolled his eyes. "You hit your head pretty hard, didn't you?"
"I'm serious."
"Well, then, thanks. Sort of."
I grinned. "You're sort of welcome."
I had to have seven stitches to c lose the cut on my forehead. After the sting of the local anesthetic, there
was no pain in the procedure. Jacob held my hand while Dr. Snow was sewing, and I tried not to think
about why that was ironic.
We were at the hospital forever. By the time I was done, I had to drop Jacob off at his home and hurry
back to cook dinner for Charlie. Charlie seemed to buy my story about falling in Jacob's garage. After
all, it wasn't like I hadn't been able to land myself in the ER before with no more help than my own feet.
This night was not as bad as that first night, after I'd heard the perfect voice in Port Angeles. The hole
came back, the way it always did when I was away from Jacob, but it didn't throb so badly around the
edges. I was already planning ahead, looking forward to more delusions, and that was a distraction.
Also, I knew I would feel better tomorrow when I was with Jacob again. That made the empty hole and
the familiar pain easier to bear; relief was in sight. The nightmare, too, had lost a little of its potency. I was
horrified by the nothingness, as always, but I was also strangely impatient as I waited for the moment that
would send me screaming into consciousness. I knew the nightmare had to end.
The next Wednesday, before I could get home from the ER, Dr. Gerandy called to warn my father that I
might possibly have a concussion and advised him to wake me up every two hours through the night to
make sure it wasn't serious. Charlie's eyes narrowed suspiciously at my weak explanation about tripping
again.
"Maybe you should just stay out of the garage altogether, Bella," he suggested that night during dinner.
I panicked, worried that Charlie was about to lay down some kind of edict that would prohibit La Push,
and consequently my motorcycle. And I wasn't giving it up—I'd had the most amazing hallucination
today. My velvet-voiced delusion had yelled at me for almost five minutes before I'd hit the brake too
abruptly and launched myself into the tree. I'd take whatever pain that would cause me tonight without
complaint.
"This didn't happen in the garage," I protested quickly. "We were hiking, and I tripped over a rock."
"Since when do you hike?" Charlie asked skeptically.
"Working at Newton's was bound to rub off sometime," I pointed out. "Spend every day selling all the
virtues of the outdoors, eventually you get curious."
Charlie glared at me, unconvinced.
"I'll be more careful," I promised, surreptitiously crossing my fingers under the table.
"I don't mind you hiking right there around La Push, but keep close to town, okay?"
"Why?"
"Well, we've been getting a lot of wildlife complaints lately. The forestry department is going to check into
it, but for the time being…"
"Oh, the big bear," I said with sudden comprehension. "Yeah, some of the hikers coming through
Newton's have seen it. Do you think there's really some giant mutated grizzly out there?"
His forehead creased. "There's something. Keep it close to town, okay?"
"Sure, sure," I said quickly. He didn't look completely appeased.
"Charlie's getting nosy," I complained to Jacob when I picked him up after school Friday.
"Maybe we should cool it with the bikes." He saw my objecting expression and added, "At least for a
week or so. You could stay out of the hospital for a week, right?"
"What are we going to do?" I griped.
He smiled cheerfully. "What ever you want."
I thought about that for a minute—about what I wanted.
I hated the idea of losing even my brief seconds of closeness with the memories that didn't hurt—the ones
that came on their own, without me thinking of them consciously. If I couldn't have the bikes, I was going
to have to find some other avenue to the danger and the adrenaline, and that was going to take serious
thought and creativity. Doing nothing in the meantime was not appealing. Suppose I got depressed again,
even with Jake? I had to keep occupied.
Maybe there was some other way, some other recipe… some other place.
The house had been a mistake, certainly. But his presence must be stamped somewhere, somewhere
other than inside me. There had to be a place where he seemed more real than among all the familiar
landmarks that were crowded with other human memories.
I could think of one place where that might hold true. One place that would always belong to him and no
one else. A magic place, full of light. The beautiful meadow I'd seen only once in my life, lit by sunshine
and the sparkle of his skin.
This idea had a huge potential for backfiring—it might be dangerously painful. My chest ached with
emptiness even to think of it. It was hard to hold myself upright, to not give myself away. But surely, there
of all places, I could hear his voice. And I'd already told Charlie I was hiking…
"What are you thinking about so hard?" Jacob asked.
"Well…" I began slowly. "I found this place in the forest once—I came across it when I was, um, hiking.
A little meadow, the most beautiful place. I don't know if I could track it down again on my own. It
would definitely take a few tries…"
"We could use a compass and a grid pattern," Jacob said with confident helpfulness. "Do you know
where you started from?"
"Yes, just below the trailhead where the one-ten ends. I was going mostly south, I think."
"Cool. We'll find it." As always, Jacob was game for anything I wanted. No matter how strange it was.
So, Saturday afternoon, I tied on my new hiking boots—purchased that morning using my
twenty-per-cent-off employee discount for the first time—grabbed my new topographical map of the
Olympic Peninsula, and drove to La Push.
We didn't get started immediately; first, Jacob sprawled across the living room floor—taking up the
whole room—and, for a full twenty minutes, drew a complicated web across the key section of the map
while I perched on a kitchen chair and talked to Billy. Billy didn't seem at all concerned about our
proposed hiking trip. I was surprised that Jacob had told him where we were going, given the fuss people
were making about the bear sightings. I wanted to ask Billy not to say anything about this to Charlie, but I
was afraid that making the request would cause the opposite result.
"Maybe we'll see the super bear," Jacob joked, eyes on his design.
I glanced at Billy swiftly, fearing a Charlie-style reaction.
But Billy just laughed at his son. "Maybe you should take a jar of honey, just in case."
Jake chuckled. "Hope your new boots are fast, Bella. One little jar isn't going to keep a hungry bear
occupied for long."
"I only have to be faster than you."
"Good luck with that!" Jacob said, rolling his eyes as he refolded the map. "Let's go."
"Have fun," Billy rumbled, wheeling himself toward the refrigerator.
Charlie was not a hard person to live with, but it looked to me like Jacob had it even easier than I did.
I drove to the very end of the dirt road, stopping near the sign that marked the beginning of the trailhead.
It had been a long time since I'd been here, and my stomach reacted nervously. This might be a very bad
thing. But it would be worth it, if I got to hear him.
I got out and looked at the dense wall of green.
"I went this way," I murmured, pointing straight ahead.
"Hmm," Jake muttered.
"What?"
He looked at the direction I'd pointed, then at the clearly marked trail, and back.
"I would have figured you for a trail kind of girl."
"Not me." I smiled bleakly. "I'm a rebel."
He laughed, and then pulled out our map.
"Give me a second." He held the compass in a skilled way, twisting the map around till it angled the way
he wanted.
"Okay—first line on the grid. Let's do it."
I could tell that I was slowing Jacob up, but he didn't complain. I tried not to dwell on my last trip through
this part of the forest, with a very different companion. Normal memories were still cangerous. If I let
myself slip up, I'd end up with my arms clutching my chest to hold it together, gasping for air, and how
would I explain that to Jacob?
It wasn't as hard as I would have thought to keep focused on the present. The forest looked a lot like any
other part of the peninsula, and Jacob set a vastly different mood.
He whistled cheerfully, an unfamiliar tune, swinging his arms and moving easily through the rough
undergrowth. The shadows didn't seem as dark as usual. Not with my personal sun along.
Jacob checked the compass every few minutes, keeping us in a straight line with one of the radiating
spokes of his grid. He really looked like he knew what he was doing. I was going to compliment him, but
I caught myself. No doubt he'd add another few years to his inflated age.
My mind wandered as I walked, and I grew curious. I hadn't forgotten the conversation we'd had by the
sea cliffs—I'd been waiting for him to bring it up again, but it didn't look like that was going to happen.
"Hey… Jake?" I asked hesitantly.
"Yeah?"
"How are things… with Embry? Is he back to normal yet?"
Jacob was silent for a minute, still moving forward with long paces. When he was about ten feet ahead,
he stopped to wait for me.
"No. He's not back to normal," Jacob said when I reached him, his mouth pulling down at the corners.
He didn't start walking again. I immediately regretted bringing it up.
"StillwithSam."
"Yup."
He put his arm around my shoulder, and he looked so troubled that I didn't playfully shake it off, as I
might have otherwise.
"Are they still looking at you funny?" I half-whispered.
Jacob stared through the trees. "Sometimes."
"AndBilly?"
"As helpful as ever," he said in a sour, angry voice that disturbed me.
"Our couch is always open," I offered.
He laughed, breaking out of the unnatural gloom. "But think of the position that would put Charlie
in—when Billy calls the police to report my kidnapping."
I laughed too, glad to have Jacob back to normal.
We stopped when Jacob said we'd gone six miles, cut west for a short time, and headed back along
another line of his grid. Everything looked exactly the same as the way in, and I had a feeling that my silly
quest was pretty much doomed. I admitted as much when it started to get darker, the sunless day fading
toward a starless night, but Jacob was more confident.
"As long as you're sure we're starting from the right place…" He glanced down at me.
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Then we'll find it," he promised, grabbing my hand and pulling me through a mass of ferns. On the other
side was the truck. He gestured toward it proudly. "Trust me."
"You're good," I admitted. "Next time we bring flashlights, though."
"We'll save hiking for Sundays from now on. I didn't know you were that slow."
I yanked my hand back and stomped around to the driver's side while he chuckled at my reaction.
"So you up for another try tomorrow.'" he asked, sliding into the passenger seat.
"Sure. Unless you want to go without me so I don't tie you down to my gimpy pace."
"I'll survive," he assured me. "If we're hiking again, though, you might want to pick up some moleskin. I
bet you can feel those new boots right now."
"A little," I confessed. It felt like I had more blisters than I had space to fit them.
"I hope we see the bear tomorrow. I'm sort of disappointed about that."
"Yes, me, too," I agreed sarcastically. "Maybe we'll get lucky tomorrow and something will eat us!"
"Bears don't want to eat people. We don't taste that good." He grinned at me in the dark cab. "Of
course, you might be an exception. I bet you'd taste good."
"Thanks so much," I said, looking away. He wasn't the first person to tell me that.
9. THIRD WHEEL
TIME BEGAN TO TRIP ALONG MUCH MORE QUICKLY than before. School, work, and
Jacob—though not necessarily in that order—created a neat and effortless pattern to follow. And Charlie
got his wish: I wasn't miserable anymore. Of course, I couldn't fool myself completely. When I stopped
to take stock of my life, which I tried not to do too often, I couldn't ignore the implications of my
behavior.
I was like a lost moon—my planet destroyed in some cataclysmic, disaster-movie scenario of
desolation—that continued, nevertheless, to circle in a tight little orbit around the empty space left behind,
ignoring the laws of gravity.
I was getting better with my bike, which meant fewer bandages to worry Charlie. But it also meant that
the voice in my head began to fade, until I heard it no more. Quietly, I panicked. I threw myself into the
search for the meadow with slightly frenzied intensity. I racked my brain for other adrenaline-producing
activities.
I didn't keep track of the days :hat passed—there was no reason, as I tried to live as much in the present
as possible, no past fading, no future impending. So I was surprised by the date when Jacob brought it
up on one of our homework days. He was waiting when I pulled up in front of his house.
"Happy Valentine's Day," Jacob said, smiling, but ducking his head as he greeted me.
He held out a small, pink box, balancing it on his palm. Conversation hearts.
"Well, I feel like a schmuck," I mumbled. "Is today Valentine's Day?"
Jacob shook his head with mock sadness. "You can be so out of it sometimes. Yes, it is the fourteenth
day of February. So are you going to be my Valentine? Since you didn't get me a fifty-cent box of candy,
it's the least you can do."
I started to feel uncomfortable. The words were teasing, but only on the surface.
"What exactly does that entail?" I hedged.
"The usual—slave for life, that kind of thing."
"Oh, well, if that's all…" I took the candy. But I was trying to think of some way to make the boundaries
clear. Again. They seemed to get blurred a lot with Jacob.
"So, what are we doing tomorrow? Hiking, or the ER?"
"Hiking," I decided. "You're not the only one who can be obsessive. I'm starting to think I imagined that
place…" I frowned into space.
"We'll find it," he assured me. "Bikes Friday?" he offered.
I saw a chance and took it without taking time to think it through.
"I'm going to a movie Friday. I've been promising my cafeteria crowd that I would go out forever." Mike
would be pleased.
But Jacob's face fell. I caught the expression in his dark eyes before he dropped them to look at the
ground.
"You'll come too, right?" I added quickly. "Or will it be too much of a drag with a bunch of boring
seniors?" So much for my chance to put some distance between us. I couldn't stand hurting Jacob; we
seemed to be connected in an odd way, and his pain set off little stabs of my own. Also, the idea of
having his company for the ordeal—I had promised Mike, but really didn't feel any enthusiasm at the
thought of following through—was just too tempting.
"You'd like me to come, with your friends there?"
"Yes," I admitted honestly, knowing as I continued that I was probably shooting myself in the foot with
my words. "I'll have a lot more fun if you're there. Bring Quil, and we'll make it a party."
"Quil's gonna freak. Senior girls." He chortled and rolled his eyes. I didn't mention Embry, and neither did
he. I laughed, too. "I'll try to get hin a good selection."
I broached the subject with Mike in English.
"Hey, Mike," I said when class was over. "Are you free Friday night?"
He looked up, his blue eyes instantly hopeful. "Yeah, I am. You want to go out?"
I worded my reply carefully. "I was thinking about getting a group"—I emphasized the word—"together
to go see Crosshairs." I'd done my homework this time—even reading the movie spoilers to be sure I
wouldn't be caught off guard. This movie was supposed to be a bloodbath from start to finish. I wasn't so
recovered that I could stand to sit through a romance. "Does that sound like fun?"
"Sure," he agreed, visibly less eager.
"Cool."
After a second, he perked back up to near his former excitement level. "How about we get Angela and
Ben? Or Eric and Katie?"
He was determined to make this some kind of double date, apparently.
"How about both?" I suggested "And Jessica, too, of course. And Tyler and Conner, and maybe
Lauren," I tacked on grudgingly. I had promised Quil variety.
"Okay," Mike muttered, foiled.
"And," I continued, "I've got a couple of friends from La Push I'm inviting. So it sounds like we'll need
your Suburban if everyone comes."
Mike's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"These are the friends you spend all your time studying with now?"
"Yep, the very ones," I answered cheerfully. "Though you could look at it as tutoring—they're only
sophomores."
"Oh," Mike said, surprised. After a second of thought, he smiled.
In the end, though, the Suburban wasn't necessary.
Jessica and Lauren claimed to be busy as soon as Mike let it slip that I was involved in the planning. Eric
and Katie already had plans—it was their three-week anniversary or something. Lauren got to Tyler and
Conner before Mike could, so those two were also busy. Even Quil was out—grounded for fighting at
school. In the end, only Angela and Ben, and, of course Jacob, were able to go.
The diminished numbers didn't dampen Mike's anticipation, though. It was all he could talk about Friday.
"Are you sure you don't want to see Tomorrow and Forever instead?" he asked at lunch, naming the
current romantic comedy that was ruling the box office. "Rotten Tomatoes gave it a better review."
"I want to see Crosshairs" I insisted. "I'm in the mood for action. Bring on the blood and guts!"
"Okay." Mike turned away, but not before I saw his maybe-she's-crazy-after-all expression.
When I got home from school, a very familiar car was parked in front of my house. Jacob was leaning
against the hood, a huge grin lighting up his face.
"No way!" I shouted as I jumped out of the truck. "You're done! I can't believe it! You finished the
Rabbit!"
He beamed. "Just last night. This is the maiden voyage."
"Incredible." I held my hand up for a high five.
He smacked his hand against mine, but left it there, twisting his fingers through mine. "So do I get to drive
tonight?"
"Definitely," I said, and then I sighed.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm giving up—I can't top this one. So you win. You're oldest."
He shrugged, unsurprised by my capitulation. "Of course I am."
Mike's Suburban chugged around the corner. I pulled my hand out of Jacob's, and he nude a face that I
wasn't meant to see.
"I remember this guy," he said in a low voice as Mike parked across the street. "The one who thought
you were his girlfriend. Is he still confused?"
I raised one eyebrow. "Some people are hard to discourage."
"Then again," Jacob said thoughtfully, "sometimes persistence pays off."
"Most of the time it's just annoying, though."
Mike got out of his car and crossed the road.
"Hey, Bella," he greeted me, and then his eyes turned wary as he looked up at Jacob. I glanced briefly at
Jacob, too, trying to be objective. He really didn't look like a sophomore at all. He was just so
big—Mike's head barely cleared Jacob's shoulder; I didn't even want to think where I measured next to
him—and then his face was older-looking than it used to be, even a month ago.
"Hey, Mike! Do you remember Jacob Black?"
"Not really." Mike held out his hand.
"Old family friend," Jacob introduced himself, shaking hands. They locked hands with more force than
necessary. When their grip broke, Mike flexed his fingers.
I heard the phone ringing from the kitchen.
"I'd better get that—it might be Charlie," I told them, and dashed inside.
It was Ben. Angela was sick with the stomach flu, and he didn't feel like coming without her. He
apologized for bailing on us.
I walked slowly back to the waiting boys, shaking my head. I really hoped Angela would feel better
soon, but I had to admit that I was selfishly upset by this development. Just the three of us, Mike and
Jacob and me, together for the evening—this had worked out brilliantly, I thought with grim sarcasm.
It didn't seem like Jake and Mike had made any progress towards friendship in my absence. They were
several yards apart, facing away from each other as they waited for me; Mike's expression was sullen,
though Jacob's was cheerful as always.
"Ang is sick," I told them glumly. "She and Ben aren't coming."
"I guess the flu is making another round. Austin and Conner were out today, too. Maybe we should do
this another time," Mike suggested.
Before I could agree, Jacob spoke.
"I'm still up for it. But if you'd rather to stay behind, Mike—"
"No, I'm coming," Mike interrupted. "I was just thinking of Angela and Ben. Let's go." He started toward
his Suburban.
"Hey, do you mind if Jacob drives?" I asked. "I told him he could—he just finished his car. He built it
from scratch, all by himself," I bragged, proud as a PTA mom with a student on the principal's list.
"Fine," Mike snapped.
"All right, then," Jacob said, as if that settled everything. He seemed more comfortable than anyone else.
Mike climbed in the backseat of the Rabbit with a disgusted expression.
Jacob was his normal sunny self, chattering away until I'd all but forgotten Mike sulking silently in the
