Eclipse - Stephenie Meyer [32]
“Can’t . . . breathe,” I gasped.
He laughed and put me down.
“Welcome back, Bella,” he said, grinning. And the way he said the words made it sound like welcome home.
We started walking, too keyed up to sit still in the house. Jacob was practically bouncing as he moved, and I had to remind him a few times that my legs weren’t ten feet long.
As we walked, I felt myself settling into another version of myself, the self I had been with Jacob. A little younger, a little less responsible. Someone who might, on occasion, do something really stupid for no good reason.
Our exuberance lasted through the first few topics of conversation: how we were doing, what we were up to, how long I had, and what had brought me here. When I hesitantly told him about the wolf flyer, his bellowing laugh echoed back from the trees.
But then, as we ambled past the back of the store and shoved through the thick scrub that ringed the far edge of First Beach, we got to the hard parts. All too soon we had to talk about the reasons behind our long separation, and I watched as the face of my friend hardened into the bitter mask that was already too familiar.
“So what’s the story, anyway?” Jacob asked me, kicking a piece of driftwood out of his way with too much force. It sailed over the sand and then clattered against the rocks. “I mean, since the last time we . . . well, before, you know . . .” He struggled for the words. He took a deep breath and tried again. “What I’m asking is . . . everything is just back to the way it was before he left? You forgave him for all of that?”
I took a deep breath. “There was nothing to forgive.”
I wanted to skip past this part, the betrayals, the accusations, but I knew that we had to talk it through before we’d be able to move on to anything else.
Jacob’s face puckered up like he’d just licked a lemon. “I wish Sam had taken a picture when he found you that night last September. It would be exhibit A.”
“Nobody’s on trial.”
“Maybe somebody should be.”
“Not even you would blame him for leaving, if you knew the reason why.”
He glared at me for a few seconds. “Okay,” he challenged acidly. “Amaze me.”
His hostility was wearing on me — chafing against the raw; it hurt to have him angry with me. It reminded me of the bleak afternoon, long ago, when — under orders from Sam — he’d told me we couldn’t be friends. I took a second to compose myself.
“Edward left me last fall because he didn’t think I should be hanging out with vampires. He thought it would be healthier for me if he left.”
Jacob did a double take. He had to scramble for a minute. Whatever he’d been planning to say, it clearly no longer applied. I was glad he didn’t know the catalyst behind Edward’s decision. I could only imagine what he’d think if he knew Jasper had tried to kill me.
“He came back, though, didn’t he?” Jacob muttered. “Too bad he can’t stick to a decision.”
“If you remember, I went and got him.”
Jacob stared at me for a moment, and then he backed off. His face relaxed, and his voice was calmer when he spoke.
“That’s true. So I never did get the story. What happened?”
I hesitated, biting my lip.
“Is it a secret?” His voice took on a taunting edge. “Are you not allowed to tell me?”
“No,” I snapped. “It’s just a really long story.”
Jacob smiled, arrogant, and turned to walk up the beach, expecting me to follow.
It was no fun being with Jacob if he was going to act like this. I trailed behind him automatically, not sure if I shouldn’t turn around and leave. I was going to have to face Alice, though, when I got home. . . . I supposed I wasn’t in any rush.
Jacob walked to a huge, familiar piece of driftwood — an entire tree, roots and all, bleached white and beached deep in the sand; it was our tree, in a way.
Jacob sat down on the natural bench, and patted the space next to him.
“I don’t mind long stories. Is there any action?”
I rolled my eyes as I sat next to him. “There’s some action,” I allowed.
“It wouldn’t be real horror without action.”
“Horror!” I scoffed. “Can you listen, or will you be