repetition

I was in a hurry to get to the Black house, and I drove a little faster than usual. I was starting to worry a little, about this new addiction I was developing. Before, it had been the numbness. Now it was hanging out with Jules. I was afraid I was slowly turning into a user; taking too many prescribed narcotics just to relieve myself a little of the pain, only to find my life a series of going from one fix to the next.

But, when it came down to it, I really didn't care at this point. I'd never understood how addicts thought until now. Maybe addiction was a pretty terrible way to live, but when it was your only option available, to make it through each otherwise unbearable day—it was so much better than the alternative.

As soon as I pulled up to the house, Jules appeared in the doorway, face brightening as she laid eyes on me.

"Hey, Beau," she said. "You made it." She added in a low voice, "Ready to get started?"

"You're not sick of me yet?" I said as we headed around the house back toward the garage.

She grinned. "Not yet."

As we came around the bend to the entrance, an audible gasp escaped me. The pile of metal pieces was gone, and in their place was the red bike, actually looking very much like a motorcycle.

I shook my head. "I don't believe it. Was there a time warp I missed? You have a magic wand somewhere? It was a pile of junk yesterday."

Jules was grinning from ear to ear at my reaction as I walked around it, staring in open disbelief. She shrugged. "When I have a project, I get in this sort of zone."

She added in a mutter, almost to herself, "After all, if I had any brains, I'd drag it out a bit more."

I glanced down at her curiously.

Jules looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable, and her eyes drifted away from mine, settling back on the bike and the mess of tools laid out beside it.

"Hey, Beau," she said slowly, gaze fixed on the bike's left handle. "Let's say, I can't actually get these bikes running...or maybe I do get them running, and you learn how to ride...what then?"

I cocked my head at her, nonplussed. "I guess if our covert mission is a failure, or we get it done, it's on to the next one, right? Actually, I sort of told Charlie we'd do homework sometime. They gave me a pile just today. That mission might have to get some attention before the bikes, or we'll have Charlie and your mom both breathing down our necks."

Jules bent down, picking up a wrench for something to do with her hands. "So you'll keep coming?" she said, eyes still on the tools. "Even when we're done?"

I understood what Jules was driving at now, and I grinned. "Oh, I get it. You thought there was going to be an end. You thought you'd have an end date where you'd finally get rid of me. Too bad."

Jules finally looked up at me, and a slow smile spread across her lips, lighting her entire face. "You know what, I figured out why you keep coming here. You're hoping to run into Quil again."

My grin widened. "Okay, you caught me."

She looked up at me, and her eyes were wide with wonder. "Hey," she said, picking at a bit of wiring sitting beside the motorcycle wheel. "Do you really like being down here? Just doing things like...like this?"

I went to my cinder blocks and sat down, leaning back and getting comfortable. "Yeah. This is great. You have no idea." There was a lot more I could say. The blessing of not being miserable every minute of every day, of going through life numb to everything and having no hope for any enjoyment in anything. But I knew I could never express it adequately in words, and if I did, it would probably freak her out.

So I only said, "Tell you what. I have work tomorrow so I won't be here, but Wednesday we can give the bikes a rest and do something else. Like I said, I told Charlie we'd do homework eventually. We can meet at my house."

Jules winced. "Homework. Yeah, that might be a good idea."

"Maybe we should decide on a day every week," I suggested. "Just so we don't get so behind we end up with Charlie and Bonnie checking up on us. Actually, better make that twice a week—I am a senior this year, and they really like to dump it on."

Jules sighed, and she reached over her toolbox, where I noticed she'd left a paper sack full of groceries. She pulled a pair of soda cans off the top and tossed one to me. She cracked the lid on hers and I followed suit.

"Here's to responsibility," she said, raising it in a toast. "Twice a week."

I felt my face spread into a wide grin. "And recklessness every day in between."

School the next day wasn't too bad, though it wasn't all good either. Allen and McKayla seemed happy I was back, and seemed willing enough to overlook months of silence and neglect. Jeremy, however, wasn't ready to let the Port Angeles incident go, and I wondered if he was expecting a formal written apology.

At work, McKayla was unusually animated and chatty, even for her, and I found myself talking with her and laughing, even if it was more of an effort than it was with Jules.

"Today was a lot of fun, wasn't it?" she said as she scampered about the store from one place to another, getting everything ready to close down.

"Yeah," I said. Work and school today hadn't dragged like they usually did. Having something to look forward to—hanging out with Jules again Wednesday—really made a difference.

"Hey," she said casually. "About that movie you saw last week."

I glanced over at her, where she was busy folding up her work vest. I'd told her the story of our trip to the movies last week, just for something to tell, and of course Jeremy, who had been sitting nearby, had been only too happy to jump in and describe how I'd wimped out at the end.

"Maybe horror movies just aren't your thing," she continued. "Maybe we could go see something else, something you'd like more. What are you doing Friday?"

By now I could see where she was taking this, and I knew I had to do something. I liked McKayla, she had always been a loyal friend and stuck with me even when Jeremy was giving me the cold shoulder, or Logan was doing his best to sabotage me, but what she wanted was definitely out.

"Well..." I said uncertainly, stalling for time as I tried to figure out the best way to be diplomatic.

McKayla was studying my expression closely, and she seemed to pick up on my reaction.

"Not like a date or anything," she said. "At least if you don't want it to be. Just as friends." However, I could tell as her shoulders slumped slightly that she was disappointed.

"I...actually already have plans Friday," I admitted. However, I didn't want to alienate McKayla when she was one of the few people who'd forgiven me, so I added, "Maybe next week?"

"Oh," she said. She added, and I could tell she was trying to be nonchalant, "What kind of plans?"

I shrugged. "Homework. A friend and I are going to try to get some studying done."

"All right...Maybe next week then."

McKayla seemed to take the uncertain floating of this possibility as the polite rejection that it was, and she was a lot less exuberant as she waved me goodbye as I headed out to my truck.

I sighed. I almost felt like I'd gone back in time, and I was reliving the life I'd lived when I'd first arrived in Forks. Only there was one thing missing—in the familiar course of events was an empty, jagged hole, which had made everything before seem worthwhile.

Wednesday, Jules and I spent the afternoon on homework, as we'd sworn to do. I managed to find time to cook dinner—several nights I'd dropped the ball and come home late, and Charlie had had to order pizza, and I wanted to make up for that. Jules was forced to admit that being a master chef put me quite a few more points closer to being a real man. Friday was the garage—though even then I brought some of my homework I hadn't gotten done on Wednesday, as I had quite a bit more of it than Jules—then Saturday we went in for another round of homework together following my shift at Newton's. Charlie, Holly Clearwater, and her husband Saul went down to fish, leaving Jules and I to struggle through complicated formulas and biology diagrams.

After we were finished, we lounged around on the couch watching Monster Garage on the Discovery Channel, which was one of Jules favorites, until Charlie got back.

Jules got up and stretched, looking to the clock. "I better be getting back," she said. "I didn't know it was this late."

"Sure, sure," I muttered, and my reluctance made her grin.

Jules obviously still didn't have her own car—she'd completely left off on her own project to help me with mine—so I drove her back in the truck. As we pulled up to the Black house, I said, "Tomorrow, we get back to work. What time should I come up?"

Jules opened the door to the truck and stepped partway out, but she turned back a minute, and her eyes were bright. "How about I call you, okay?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Uh, okay, sure."

Jules laughed as she slammed the truck door and skipped to the door.

Of course, I was about out of my mind with impatience the next morning. The night before I'd been plagued again with nightmares, and I was still trying to shake off the queasiness in my stomach, and the chills on my skin. This one had been slightly different from some of the others. Instead of wandering endlessly through the forest behind our house, I'd been out at—at that place. The familiar white house on the river I didn't often allow myself to think about. Only in the dream, the house hadn't been there. I'd run, pushing through the thick ferns and leaves of hemlock trees, searching, searching, but realizing there was nothing to find. I knew I wouldn't shake it off completely until I saw Jules again.

I started in on a massive cleaning job of the entire house to distract myself, and it was mid-morning by the time the phone finally rang. As Charlie was outside giving the cruiser a wash down, I immediately threw down the toilet brush and sprinted downstairs to get it.

"Hello," I said, a bit out of breath. "Swan residence."

"Mr. Beau Swan," the voice answered in an airy, though formal tone that vaguely reminded me of a desk secretary. "Your order has been completed. Please pick up at your convenience by five o'clock this afternoon."

I couldn't believe it. "They're done?" I said, stunned. "Both of them?"

"Oh, yeah," said Jules, in her normal voice this time. "They're done all right. They don't exactly ride like a dream, but they'll ride."

"Wow," I said. "Just...wow. Did I ever tell you you're probably the most talented person I know? Seriously, you're a true lady if there ever was one."

I could hear the grin in Jules voice as she answered, "Thanks, I'll remember that."

"I'll be over in a few."

I slammed down the receiver and rushed back upstairs to dump the bathroom cleaning supplies under the counter, then raced back down, grabbing my jacket on the way out the door.

I drove a little faster than was probably good for my truck, then parked it some ways off from the house, near the trees, to give us some cover when we went to move the motorcycles. As soon as I got out, a gleam of bright color drew my attention, and I turned to see them, sitting there, under the cover of a spruce tree and invisible from the house. One was a deep crimson red, and the other a jet black. Though they both had noticeable patches of rust and wear, they were probably the most beautiful things I'd ever seen.

Jules came dashing out of the house, skidding to a stop just beside me. She spun to face me, eyes sparkling.

"You ready for this?" she said.

"Am I ever," I answered, though in truth, as I stood there, admiring them, I was having a disconnect inside my head, trying to picture myself actually on one.

Jules loaded the bikes onto the truck, and she let me feel like I was helping as we laid them down sideways so they wouldn't be visible from the outside.

"Okay, let's go," she said, breathless with excitement. "I know the perfect spot, no one will see us down there."

We drove south out of town, Jules filling the time rehashing all the different parts she had just finished putting in that morning and touchups she had done as I drove. The dirt road wove in and out of the forest, so sometimes we were surrounded by nothing but trees, other times catching breathtaking glimpses of the Pacific Ocean, dark gray under the heavy clouds. We were above the shore, on top of the cliffs that bordered the beach here, and the view seemed to stretch on forever.

I drove slowly, just so I could let my gaze wander from time to time to take in the vast expanse of the ocean now and again, as the road wound closer to the sea cliffs. My eyes roved over the endless rocky ledges, and as they did, I suddenly noticed four figures standing atop one of them. In my opinion, they looked like they were just a little too close to the edge.

The tallest figure stepped closer to the brink, and I found myself automatically slowing, watching closely, my foot hovering over the brake pedal.

Then the tall figure suddenly leaped off the edge.

I slammed on the brakes hard, causing both of us to strain against our seat belts.

"What?" Jules yelled, breaking off mid sentence and looking all around the road in front of us in alarm, trying to see the obstacle that had freaked me out. "What? What is it?" However, she turned and noticed my eyes weren't on the roads, but on the cliffs.

I was barely coherent. "That—there was someone just—jumped off a cliff!"

Jules slowly relaxed in her seat, rolling her eyes. "Oh, that. That's just cliff diving. It's just recreation, no one's killing themselves."

I stared down at the gray water beneath the cliff and, certainly enough, after several panic-stricken moments a dark head emerged from the waves.

I shook my head slowly. "Cliff diving?" I repeated vaguely, watching as the second figure launched off the rock, thrusting arms forward like an Olympic diver. The fall seemed to take an age before the figure finally cut smoothly through the surface. It was so high. The thought of jumping from a height like that made me shudder.

"Yeah," Jules said with supreme disinterest, casually draping an arm over the side door. "Lot of teenagers around the reservation do it for fun. I've done it a few times. It's kind of a rush I guess."

I turned around to stare at her. "You—" I began. "You've been jumping off cliffs?" If the idea of me jumping off one of those had sent a shiver down my spine, the thought of Jules doing it made me feel cold all over.

"Sure," she said, shrugging. "Course, most normal people who do it don't do it from there, they go from those rocks halfway down." She gestured and I followed her gaze, and I did think that place looked a little more reasonable.

Her mouth twisted with disgust. "Those ones out there—they're just plain insane. I mean, that water is probably freezing, they could give themselves hypothermia doing that. But no, all they care about is acting tough."

The third figure went for it next, flinging themselves downward, and it suddenly occurred to me that I'd never witnessed anything so reckless in all my life.

"Hey, Jules," I said casually. "Once we're done with the bikes, we should go cliff diving."

She turned to stare at me like I was crazy. "You just about freaked a second ago. Now you're telling me you want to go?"

I shrugged. "I'd just like to try it sometime. Maybe when it's warmer."

"Maybe," she said, though she looked uncertain. She eyed me up and down, as though she wasn't entirely sure I could swim.

I turned my eyes back to the cliffs, watching the fourth figure pacing back and forth just at the edge. I noticed Jules was watching too, and there was a touch of some emotion in her eyes, her brow furrowed, her mouth tight. Then the figure finally went, this one feet first.

"Do you know any of them?" I asked as I started the truck moving again. However, I doubted Jules could see them clearly from this distance.

But Jules surprised me. She shook her head, shaking herself from whatever thoughts she'd been having, then snorted. "Oh yeah, I know them all right. There's only one group at the reservation dumb enough to be doing that in this weather—Samantha and her flunkies. They think they're Amazon warriors, always running around, acting tough. Like one of those all-female gangs. They don't beat people up or anything, but—it's like they think they're the reservation's equivalent of the police. Like, one time there was this old woman on our land, and everyone said she was selling meth to the kids around the reservation—well, Sam and the others took it upon themselves to run her off."

"They sound like Charlie's Angels," I said.

Jules didn't smile, only continued to glare out the front windshield. Her normally cheerful, easygoing features were filled with tension, even anger. And—was I imagining it?—just a hint of fear.

"Well," I said bracingly, hoping to get the mood back to what it was before, "that really doesn't sound so bad. As long as they're not hurting anyone, and keeping things safe. It's good the reservation has someone doing that, right?"

Jules was silent at that, staring out the window, her expression impossible to read. After a minute, she said evenly, "You just missed the turn."

I had to execute a wide U-turn to get back on track, nearly taking out a tree or two in the process as the truck went off the road.

"Thanks for the heads-up," I muttered as we headed down the side road.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

The truck was quiet for a minute, until I was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"You can pull off anywhere along here," she said at last, voice low.

I took the truck off the road, going to park along the side. As the roar of the engine suddenly cut short, the following silence deafening. Jules got out and went around the back for the bikes. I got out the other side and tentatively followed.

As she pushed the red bike out and set it beside me, she took a deep, even breath, then forced a smile. "Ready?" she said.

"I hope so," I said, staring down at the bike. Still trying to imagine myself on it, and failing.

I pulled the bike around a little, leaning it against the side of the truck as Jules went to get hers.

"Jules," I said, slowly.

"Yeah?" she answered as I heard the light thump of the wheels of her bike as they connected solidly with the ground.

I hesitated. I knew that there was more upsetting her related to Samantha than just what she'd told me.

As Jules came around the side of the truck, our gazes met. I looked back at her evenly, without breaking eye contact.

"Tell me," I said somberly. "What's wrong? What's really going on?"

Jules stared back at me for a moment, then her eyes flickered away, a deep rift in her brow.

"I don't know," she said with frustration. "That's the problem."

Her eyes went back up to me. "You know a little about our tribe, don't you Beau? The Quileutes, I mean."

I shrugged. "Well, it's matriarchal, right? Leadership passed down from daughter to daughter—even last names, like Black. You have a council that runs things now, but your mom's technically the head...Other than that, I'm not sure."

Jules nodded. "My mom's always been treated...special. Even though she's not technically in charge, she's descended from our last chieftess, Elda Black, and the council always listens to her. But no one ever really treated me like that. I was just one of the kids like any of the others."

She hesitated, eyes dropping away from mine again. "Sam...she hasn't said anything to me directly. But these days she's always watching me. I keep getting this feeling like she wants me to join her little gang—no, that she expects me to."

"You don't have to join anything," I said severely. "Course she wants you to join, you're strong, have a lot of skills, and maybe this whole descended-from-the-chieftess thing plays into it, too. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to, Jules. Don't pay any attention to her."

Jules gritted her teeth, and when her eyes flashed back up to mine, they were suddenly desperate. "But—but that's just it. I told you, I just can't figure out what's going on. Em just missed a week of school. Quil and I tried to visit her, but when we went to her house she was never home. And, when she came back—she was suddenly a part of Sam's gang. It was the same with Paula, and Jay—sick a week, then when they came back, they were suddenly following Sam around like her disciples.

"Like I said, Sam and her people act like they think they're Amazon warriors, kind of tough, like they think they're in training to go to war. But see, Em—Em isn't like that. She's shy, and quiet. Sam and her group bothered her even more than they did me, and she avoided them like the plague. Now—Now. She was out there. Out on the cliffs with the others, just now. I can't understand it. Quil and I have tried to talk to her, but she won't come near us."

Jules shook her head, pressing a fist to her forehead, as though trying to keep it all in. When she spoke again, her voice cracked.

"Em is one of my best friends, but I can't find out what's going on. I feel like—I feel like Sam did something to her. I feel like something happened and she didn't have a choice. I need to help her somehow, but I don't know how. And if that could happen to Em—what about me? Sam is looking at me like I'm next on her list—what if that happens to me too? What if I don't have a choice?"

I felt as though all Jules's fear and horror was spreading to me. Chills were running up and down my spine, and I felt a sudden surge of anger at Sam and her people. They thought of themselves as the good guys, policing the reservation. But if they were terrorizing people like Jules, and finding ways to force other members of the tribe to join them, obviously they weren't at all what they pretended to be.

"Have you tried talking to Bonnie about this?" I said seriously.

Jules gave a harsh, bitter laugh. "Oh yeah. Fat lot of help that was."

"What?" I said. "What did she say?"

Jules shook her head. "She just told me not to worry about it for now. I'd know when the time is right. I don't know what she thinks is going on, but she doesn't have a clue. She probably thinks it's some coming of age, puberty thing, but this is something else. Something...something bad."

I noticed the fist she had at her forehead was trembling slightly, and her other arm was wrapped around her torso, as though trying to keep herself together.

Before I even had time to think about what I was doing, I had my arms around her. "You always have a choice," I said, and my voice came out oddly rough. "She can't ever scare you into doing something you don't want to do. If things get worse, we'll do something about it. If it comes down to it, you can come live with Charlie and me. Nothing is going to happen to you."

Jules seemed startled for a moment, the arm she had around herself half moving away in surprise. Then, slowly, she slid her arms around my back, and I felt her bury her face in my shoulder.

We stayed like that a minute. I listened to the sound of her breathing as it slowed, and at last settled back into a normal rhythm.

I realized oddly that I didn't mind the extended contact. I wasn't used to being this close to another human being, either physically or emotionally. I'd never related very well to other people. The only ones I'd really felt emotionally connected to—hadn't been human. But Jules was so warm, and I was filled with a feeling different from what I'd felt the last time I'd embraced someone this way. I realized, this was what friendship felt like—real friendship.

At last Jules pulled away, and she gazed up at me. She was grinning a bit sheepishly, and I could see in her face that she was already back to her usual self.

"How many points do I get?" she asked.

I stared back at her, frowning. "Points?"

"Damsel in distress vibe," she explained. "I get a lot of lady points for that."

"Yeah," I said. "But you just lifted two motorcycles off the back of a truck. I'd say that knocks at least ten points off your total."

"Speaking of which," she said, grin widening slowly. "Should we get to it?"

I nodded, though I felt my own face get a little more serious. Thoughts of Sam and her people were still floating around inside my mind, but they faded as I reminded myself why I was here. I was here to ride a motorcycle. And I was riding a motorcycle because—

I cut that thought off where it was. I knew why I was here, so I didn't need to repeat it, even inside my mind. I was here to be reckless, I was here to break promises. And most of all, I was here to ensure I remembered—to make sure my nightmares didn't come true.