Eclipse - Stephenie Meyer [40]
“How did that work out for Jared?” I asked to break the silence.
“No drama there. It was just a girl he’d sat next to in school every day for a year and never looked at twice. And then, after he changed, he saw her again and never looked away. Kim was thrilled. She’d had a huge crush on him. She’d had his last name tacked on to the end of hers all over in her diary.” He laughed mockingly.
I frowned. “Did Jared tell you that? He shouldn’t have.”
Jacob bit his lip. “I guess I shouldn’t laugh. It was funny, though.”
“Some soul mate.”
He sighed. “Jared didn’t tell us anything on purpose. I already told you this part, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. You can hear each other’s thoughts, but only when you’re wolves, right?”
“Right. Just like your bloodsucker.” He glowered.
“Edward,” I corrected.
“Sure, sure. That’s how come I know so much about how Sam felt. It’s not like he would have told us all that if he’d had a choice. Actually, that’s something we all hate.” The bitterness was abruptly harsh in his voice. “It’s awful. No privacy, no secrets. Everything you’re ashamed of, laid out for everyone to see.” He shuddered.
“It sounds horrible,” I whispered.
“It is sometimes helpful when we need to coordinate,” he said grudgingly. “Once in a blue moon, when some bloodsucker crosses into our territory. Laurent was fun. And if the Cullens hadn’t gotten in our way last Saturday . . . ugh!” he groaned. “We could have had her!” His fists clenched into angry balls.
I flinched. As much as I worried about Jasper or Emmett getting hurt, it was nothing like the panic I felt at the idea of Jacob going up against Victoria. Emmett and Jasper were the closest thing to indestructible I could imagine. Jacob was still warm, still comparatively human. Mortal. I thought of Jacob facing Victoria, her brilliant hair blowing around her oddly feline face . . . and shuddered.
Jacob looked up at me with a curious expression. “But isn’t it like that for you all the time? Having him in your head?”
“Oh, no. Edward’s never in my head. He only wishes.”
Jacob’s expression became confused.
“He can’t hear me,” I explained, my voice a tiny bit smug from old habit. “I’m the only one like that, for him. We don’t know why he can’t.”
“Weird,” Jacob said.
“Yeah.” The smugness faded. “It probably means there’s something wrong with my brain,” I admitted.
“I already knew there was something wrong with your brain,” Jacob muttered.
“Thanks.”
The sun broke through the clouds suddenly, a surprise I hadn’t been expecting, and I had to narrow my eyes against the glare off the water. Everything changed color — the waves turned from gray to blue, the trees from dull olive to brilliant jade, and the rainbow-hued pebbles glittered like jewels.
We squinted for a moment, letting our eyes adjust. There were no sounds besides the hollow roar of the waves that echoed from every side of the sheltered harbor, the soft grinding of the stones against each other under the water’s movement, and the cry of gulls high overhead. It was very peaceful.
Jacob settled closer to me, so that he was leaning against my arm. He was so warm. After a minute of this, I shrugged out of my rain jacket. He made a little sound of contentment in the back of his throat, and rested his cheek on the top of my head. I could feel the sun heat my skin — thought it was not quite as warm as Jacob — and I wondered idly how long it would take me to burn.
Absentmindedly, I twisted my right hand to the side, and watched the sunlight glitter subtly off the scar James had left there.
“What are you thinking about?” he murmured.
“The sun.”
“Mmm. It’s nice.”
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
He chuckled to himself. “I was remembering that moronic movie you took me to. And Mike Newton puking all over everything.”
I laughed, too, surprised by how time had changed the memory. It used to be one of stress, of confusion. So much had changed that night. . . . And now I could laugh. It was the last night Jacob and I had had before he’d learned the truth about