Chapter Text
It was an ordinary evening in La Push, and the sky, as usual, was not disappointing; its stifling fog, refreshing but cold rain, and the bone-chilling roar of lightning shook the town. Not unusual, after all, La Push was a peaceful coastal town in Washington, inhabited by Native Americans who adhered to local traditions.
But this peaceful place, like everywhere else, was also home to some people who had witnessed, heard about, or even experienced some supernatural events. While some stories end happily, just as every coin has two sides, bad stories, the enemy of happy ones, also have an ending. Sometimes, the coin hasn't even been tossed yet, but it's waiting to be tossed.
Jacob Black is a 17-year-old boy who, among millions, is a victim of tragedy, constantly questioning himself, "Why me?", but ultimately giving up.
Just ten years old, a few hours before dusk, while his father was momentarily distracted by a conversation with a friend, Jacob broke free from his father's hand and disappeared into the crowd to get a closer look at Seattle's grand buildings. His momentary curiosity led him down a quiet, densely packed street; the curiosity that had spurred him on just hours earlier was gone, replaced by stress and tension.
He was afraid, but he still had a little courage inside him; that courage was the only thing that kept him going. As he slowly made his way down the street, he heard the sound of a trash can lid slamming shut behind him. Jacob quickly turned around, thinking, "It must have been a cat." Just as he was about to turn his head and continue on his way, before he could even take a step, a strong gust of wind, as if a storm had blown in his face, threw him into the street.
Before he could even understand what was happening, Jacob screamed reflexively in shock and fear. He felt a pain in his wrist, but it wasn't enough to kill him; it was the kind of pain that makes your skin red when you touch boiling metal for a second, initially very painful but then turning into a mild ache.
It was a fleeting event, like the flick of a light on and off, lasting only a few seconds. As Jacob tried to stand, he looked at his wrist and saw teeth marks, the kind only a human could inflict. His wrist was bleeding; clearly, some of the teeth had cut the arteries leading to his heart. Jacob immediately grabbed his wrist with his other hand, trying to stop the bleeding, but it didn't seem easy. The blood flowing from his wrist stained his other hand, which he was trying to bandage, and ran down his arm. He hissed in pain, eyes filled with tears, which streamed down his small cheeks, a testament to both the pain and the shock of what had happened.
He looked around, hoping to see someone, but the darkness of the night seemed to have swallowed him whole; there was no one else there. He heard some police sirens at the end of the street, turned his head towards the sounds, stood up, and, clutching his bleeding wound, began to run as fast as his legs could take him.
As he turned the corner, he saw the police cars, and a wave of happiness washed over him, like someone who had found water in the desert and was rescued.
After opening his eyes in the hospital, he felt his father's hand stroking his hair, but seeing the anger and fear on his face, his eyes filled with tears again. Although his father looked at him as if scolding him, he was worried about his son. When he found him again, there was a bleeding bite mark on his wrist, bruises on his back, and unusually, marks covering Jacob's entire body—his arms, legs, back, chest, and neck—each curve resembling the roots of a tree, following the lines as if struck by lightning.
None of the doctors at the hospital could find any meaning or reason for these marks.
The police had found nothing about the incident either. No one could offer a logical explanation for the bite. But Jacob's father, William Black, knew what had happened; after all, he had grown up with these legends passed down from his oldest ancestors. The question that haunted him was how his beloved son's heart could still be beating?
Fate had just tossed little Jacob's coin into the air, but even it didn't know if it would bring good or bad fortune. For the cold letters it had written for Jacob felt foreign to it too.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The alarm clock's regular, loud sound shrieked as the morning sun rose from the small drawer beside the bed. The gleaming red numbers were the unpleasant harbinger of getting ready for school.
Jacob lay sleepily on his back in bed and pressed the top of the alarm clock to silence it.
Lying in bed, stretching his arms and legs, he slightly opened his eyes and looked at the sunlight gently filtering into his room through the curtain. For a moment, he couldn't quite compose himself, unsure of what to do, but then he remembered that a few days earlier he had been forced to withdraw his registration from The Quileute Tribal School, where he had attended for three years and made friends.
A ridiculous system error had mixed up his registration with those of the newly enrolled
students, and Jacob's registration wouldn't be accepted. He hoped to re-register with the other new students and continue his studies, but all the quotas were full.
Since dropping out of school wasn't an option, he enrolled in Forks High School. This meant waking up earlier than usual every day and a 30-minute drive.
Jacob grimaced as he realized he needed to get ready or he'd be late for his first day of school. He pulled the blanket off and sat up in bed, getting out to pick up his black jeans from his chair and putting them on. He didn't mind the cold, but going to school in just his underwear would be a huge scandal. He put on a dark gray long-sleeved shirt from his closet and then a black or shades of black lumberjack flannel shirt.
He ran his hand through his short hair for a moment, then reached for his school bag next to his closet, only to realize he'd forgotten something.
Something even more important than going to school without pants.
Bite mark
Jacob paused for a moment, looking at the bite; it was a reminder of the trauma and fear he had experienced in the past. He sighed, picked up the black thumbtack he'd left on his desk the night before, wrapped it around his palm, then threaded it between his thumb and index finger and began to wrap it around his wrist.
Years after the tragedy, everyone who saw the bite mark, which still retained its shape and hadn't healed or disappeared over time, and the long, creased marks on her arms when he wore a short-sleeved T-shirt, bombarded him with questions like, "How did it happen?", "When did it happen?", "I'm so sorry for you."
Jacob found solace in long-sleeved clothing and hiding the scar on his wrist; he wasn't ashamed of his body, he just constantly faced the same questions, and explaining a bite mark that hadn't healed for years was no easy task.
When he finished bandaging his hand and came out of his room, the smell of bacon and eggs made his stomach rumble. He went into the kitchen and saw his father pouring juice into an empty glass on the dining table. On the plate next to the glass, he saw toasted bread, bacon, and two eggs. Next to the plate in front of Billy, there was another plate, untouched and still steaming.
When Jacob saw the plate, he put his bag down on the seat and greeted his father with a grin, "Good morning, Dad. Is there any for me, or are you going to eat it all yourself?"
Billy pushed the plate towards an empty chair and smiled. “I saved it for you, don’t worry. But if you had been late, I might have changed my mind.”
Jacob let out a grumbling sound, slumped into the chair, and his grin widened as he pulled the plate closer to himself.
"You wouldn't do that."
Billy raised his eyebrows slightly, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes.
"I would try."
As Jacob ate his meal, he glanced at his father and noticed Billy frowning, the muscles gripping his fork tensing, his pupils dilating, and his heart beating faster, though he couldn't hear it clearly.
His mind immediately started calculating.Tense,stressed words popped out of nowhere. He remembered Billy's face flashed through his mind,the tone of voice his father had used when he spoke to him in the truck after he'd picked up his registration from his old high school.
But he knew something was missing. When he focused more, he remembered the conversation his father had with him after the events in Seattle; his mind relived that memory, it moved before his eyes like a vivid picture.
Billy had always tried to raise his son Jacob by passing on tribal tales and legends about wolves, wendigos, skinwalkers, vampires, and many other curses and myths.
Although he didn't wholeheartedly want his son to live in a world full of monsters, he ultimately had no power to change this supernatural world.
Even though Jacob refused to believe in the reality of these stories, he always tried to advise and protect him. Every time Billy remembered what happened in Seattle, a burning feeling of regret pierced his heart, like a knife; if he had been a little more careful with Jacob that day, perhaps such a terrible event wouldn't have happened.
After the incident, Billy waited for Jacob to change, fearing he would no longer be his son, as he waited for him to wake up in the hospital. But Jacob was still Jacob, the son he had held in his arms on the day he was born, yet so much had changed.
Jacob's mind had begun to change after that incident. Vampire venom had spread through his body, but it hadn't transformed him. If he had been bitten after transforming into a werewolf, he might have died from the effects of the venom, but Jacob wasn't a werewolf. Therefore, his Quileute blood had managed to protect him in some way. But even this blood wasn't enough to completely overcome the vampire venom.
The poison was still circulating in his blood, but it had only affected his mind and body; Jacob hadn't fully transformed into a vampire.
He wasn't as super-strong as a normal vampire, but he was still powerful. He had an excellent memory, but unfortunately, he couldn't forget the memories he most wanted to forget.
His previously dark brown eyes had changed, replaced by hazel eyes. While the hazel eyes contrasted sharply with his bronzed skin, they possessed a striking allure. His hair was short; it had hardly grown since he was first bitten. It looked layered and messy. The top was voluminous and full, while the front, in short layers, fell slightly onto his forehead, somewhat concealing it. The sides were medium-length and left natural. The nape was cut slightly longer and in sections, giving the hair a rebellious, dynamic look.
Jacob's mind didn't function like that of normal people. Thoughts didn't flow through his mind as silent sentences; they manifested as colors, words, echoes, and moving images. People's emotions transformed into fleeting projections around their gaze, their intuitions appeared in his mind as visual layers. Fear appeared like cracking shadows, anger spread like pulses of red light, while peace created warm tones and gentle melodies.
The stories he read came alive in his mind, the songs transformed into real performances, and his thoughts sometimes appeared like words suspended in the air. Jacob didn't decipher the world through logic; he experienced it through the cinematic reflections constantly created by his mind.
But if you want to use your vampire side for a long time,like an overloaded machine it had several side effects, including headaches, tremors if he overexerted his body, burning muscles, fever, and a heart that felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. Jacob had to go to quite a few hospitals before he learned how to overcome his mind.
His mind was like an insatiable monster, wanting to devour all knowledge. Jacob was a curious person; he had read every book he could get his hands on—biology, medicine, engineering, literature, music, art, biographies—everything imaginable. His mind stored information, releasing it when needed, like unlocking a locked door.
Therefore, all this time Jacob had nothing but himself, his mind which never left him like a conjoined twin, and his imagination that allowed him to picture himself in other universes.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Billy and Jacob always had a relationship built on trust.
That's why Billy had told Jacob that the person who attacked him that night was a vampire, and that he wanted to kill him or transform him. Jacob had encountered a portal to another world.
Almost a year ago, Billy explained that a clan of vampires and werewolves had made a pact, that they were different from other vampires, and that they were peaceful.
When Jacob asked, "Why are you telling me this after all these years?", Billy recounted the phone call he'd made a few hours earlier. He knew Jacob was now part of this supernatural world, aware of the existence of vampires, and that one of the victims was his son. He should have known about the Cullens' existence.
But he'd only told him part of it, only that the Cullens were in Forks and that there were only seven of them.
He hadn't said anything about their names or what they looked like. Although keeping their existence secret was important, for Billy, revealing this wasn't breaking the agreement, but rather a precaution to protect his son.
They had returned after almost 67 years, and their clan leader called Billy, assuring him they would be staying for a while and emphasizing the validity of the agreement, stating unequivocally that they were not hunting people.
A few months later, the Cullens' fame had spread throughout town; their wealth, their appearance, and their captivating every move were the talk of the town. For Jacob, this event was yet another proof of the reality of vampires.
But some pieces didn't add up in his head, and that bothered him. Yes, he'd never gotten along well with vampires, but he was still curious about the Cullens. Why would a vampire choose not to be a vampire, not to act like a vampire?
Billy slowly put his fork down on his plate and said anxiously, "Jacob."
"I still don't want you to go to the school in Forks. Could we try re-enrolling you in your current school?"
The grin on Jacob's face faded for a moment, replaced by a slight tension. He leaned back in his chair, lowering his gaze to the food on his plate as he stirred his breakfast with his fork.
“We talked about this, Dad…” he said, her voice softer than he expected, but firm. “I have to go to Forks.”
Billy frowned, his gaze sweeping across his son's face.
"This isn't just a matter of the lesson, Jacob."
Jacob took a deep breath, finally raising his eyes to look at his father. He felt both patience and suppressed stubbornness.
“I know why you don’t want to,” he said in a lower voice. “But I’m not a child. I can handle it on my own.”
Billy's jaw tightened slightly. He leaned forward a little in his wheelchair.
"They're there."
It was a short, sharp sentence. But its weight settled on the table.
Jacob's gaze wavered for a moment, then fixed again.
“I’ll be there too,” he replied. “And this time I know what’s what.”
There was silence. The only sound was the wind hitting the kitchen wall.
Billy sighed, narrowing his eyes and scrutinizing his son.
“Knowing isn’t enough,” he said in a lower voice. “Sometimes keeping your distance…is survival.”
Jacob pressed his lips together, then shook his head slightly.
"Perhaps," he said. "But running away doesn't count as living either."
His words hung in the air. Jacob picked up his fork again, but no longer with gusto, only with the determination that comes from having finished speaking.
He glanced at the clock and saw that class started in 40 minutes.Hhe quickly stuffed a few more bites into his mouth, picked up his bag from the seat, and opened the door.
Before he could leave through the door, he heard his father's voice, this time not harsher, but heavier.
“Jacob.”
Jacob stopped. His shoulders tensed slightly, but he didn't turn around.
“If one of them approaches you…” Billy’s voice trailed off for a moment, as if weighing his words. “Don’t try to handle it alone.”
Jacob closed his eyes and let out a short breath. They both knew this conversation wasn't over.
“I know,” he said, this time more calmly. “I won’t cross the line.”
Billy didn't answer immediately. Then, in a lower voice, he added:"This isn't just your problem, son."
Jacob's fingers gripped the doorknob. For a moment he considered turning back… but he didn't.
"I'm aware," he murmured.
A brief silence.
Then Billy said one last thing, this time almost more like a request than a warning:
“Pay attention, Jacob.”
Jacob bowed his head slightly, and although Billy couldn't see, said, "...I will."
He opened the door, went to his motorcycle, and started it. He set off for Forks High School.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Jacob arrived at Forks High School and made his way through the cars, he looked around for a place to park his motorcycle. He spotted a red BMW M3 Convertible. The car looked flashy yet elegant, and next to it was a grey Volvo S60; both cars were quite expensive and powerful. While admiring the cars, Jacob saw other cars looking for parking, and as he continued, a thought struck him: what were all these luxury cars doing at an ordinary school?
A little further on, Jacob spotted a familiar old, red Chevrolet pickup truck. It was the one Charlie Swan had bought for his daughter as a gift. Jacob and his father had gone to Swan's house a few days earlier to deliver the truck, and the girl seemed to like it in an unusual way.
When Jacob met Bella, they got along easily; apart from her being a little pessimistic, reserved, and shy, Jacob liked her. Bella Swan was beautiful and kind, but Jacob only saw her as a friend.
There was a little space where the truck was parked, so he parked his engine in that space. When he turned off the ignition, the sounds of other vehicles and students filled the air; everyone was moving quickly to get to class and avoid getting scolded by the teacher.
His mind conjured up images of the red BMW and the gray Volvo; multiple patterns and possibilities began swirling in his head.
Showy
Remarkable
Expensive
He got off his motorcycle and started walking towards the school's wide steps. Suddenly, as if a lightbulb had gone on above his head, Jacob stopped in his tracks.
The word Cullens appeared before his eyes. Jacob's mind, like a soldier abandoning his post, found the answer and fell silent.
Jacob already knew he would encounter the Cullens at school and had prepared himself; although nervous, he wasn't afraid.
Jacob wondered what kind of vampires the Cullens were, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle swirling in his mind. They defied their nature and forged another path; Jacob had been fascinated by every rebellious, defiant, or fate-defying character he'd heard about in books, and somewhere deep inside, a fire burned for them.But still a little voice in his head was saying ‘’Have you forgotten that a vampire attacked you?’’
A loud car horn pulled Jacob out of his thoughts. A large, black pickup truck was practically screaming to pull over. The boy in the driver's seat, with slightly tanned skin and short, curly hair, was waving his hand reproachfully.
Jacob raised his hand apologetically and shouted loud enough for the child to hear, "Sorry!"
He quickly stepped aside and entered the school. It was more crowded than he expected; students hurried down the corridors, their laughter and conversations echoing off the walls.
As soon as he entered, he was directed to the registration desk. The teacher gave him a student handbook and class schedule. Jacob briefly thanked her and put the handbook in his bag.
He took out the map and began to examine which route to take to the first class,it was history. He started to visualize it. The corridors stretched on, the turns and doorways overlapped.
The corridors came to life as if a camera were moving. To the right, then two straight corridors, and the third door on the right was the classroom door.
As he walked towards the first class, he sensed a group of students had noticed him. Jacob slightly raised his head.
A blonde girl adjusted her hair and shifted her gaze to Jacob; words of interest and curiosity fluttered around her.
Another student took off his headphones and looked around. He appeared to be attentive and alert.
Jacob placed them all on a single stage and continued to move forward. In his mind, each student had a separate thought, but Jacob no longer reacted to them; he was just looking around and his mind was just doing it.
At the end of the corridor, the door to the first classroom was visible. Jacob took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Inside, students were lined up, waiting for the teacher to begin the lesson.
Jacob found an empty seat in the classroom and sat down, then glanced at the student next to him.
She had short hair, round glasses, and her gaze drifted curiously towards Jacob. The expression on her face immediately created a simulation in Jacob's mind:
Ready to speak.
Nervous,curious
Jacob noticed this but said nothing.The girl smiled slightly.
“Are you new?” she asked, her voice soft but clear.
Jacob nodded slightly. "Yes, I'm Jacob."
The girl introduced herself: “I’m Mary. Did they give you the class schedule?”
Jacob looked at the paper in his hand, his mind scanning the map of the lessons once more.
First lesson: History
Classroom: 204
Teacher: Mr.Thompson
Mary nodded slightly. "I can help you if you got a problem with schedule"
‘’I dont think ı would need help but thank you for asking though’’ Jacob said nicely.
Mary giggled mischievously and said, "If you say so."
When the lesson began, Mr. Thompson walked to the blackboard. His voice was deep and steady. The topic of history was introduced: the American Revolution in the 18th century…
Jacob was actively participating in the lesson, both listening to his teacher and using his prior knowledge, as he visualized the subject of History in his mind. He occasionally took notes in his notebook and answered some questions. It was as if he were someone living in the 18th century; everything flashed before his eyes in a few seconds: courts, trials, commanders, soldiers.
He glanced at Mary and smiled slightly. Mary responded gently.
The classroom erupted in activity when the bell rang. Chairs creaked, notebooks closed, and sounds piled on top of each other.
Mary glanced at Jacob as she gathered her notebook.
"You weren't bad for the first day," she said with a slight smile.
Jacob shrugged.
"It wasn't difficult."
Mary asked, "What's your next lesson?"
Jacob turned his head towards Mary as he put his books in his bag.
The map opened in his mind.
Corridors. Turns. Doors.
Then a single word stood out:
Art
Jacob said, with a slight smile, "Art."
"That's great but I'm not really an artistic person."
Jacob raised his left eyebrow in curiosity. "How?"
Mary shrugged. "You either love art very much or you can't stand it at all. I'm the latter," she said playfully.
Jacob's deceased mother's watercolor paintings, the drawings filling the pages of his notebooks, the countless ideas that filled his mind when inspiration struck—fantasy characters—all were evidence that Jacob had a strong side: a love for art, and that art loved him just as much.
The first thing she noticed when she opened the classroom door was the smell.
Paint
Paper.
Wood.
There was a skeleton model near the teacher's desk on the window side of the classroom. In art class, skeletons were used to understand the structure of the human body and to learn anatomy while drawing figures.
Jacob stepped inside and felt his mind lighten. The classroom was messy but not disorganized. The subject of the lesson was "Interpreting an Object."
The teacher distributed papers and materials to everyone.
Before starting to draw, Jacob paused to consider what he could do. His gaze fell upon the skeleton model. He remembered the painted white violin his mother had given him, after that Seattle incident he wasn't playing often. Sarah, his mother, was told that music could help rebuild damaged neural pathways after trauma — that familiar rhythms and repetitive movement sometimes gave the mind something stable to hold onto when memories became too heavy.
So she made that violin anyway.
Not because she expected him to become a prodigy.
Not because she thought it would magically fix him.
But because she remembered how quietly focused he used to become whenever he held one.
The violin had been painted white, almost pearl-like beneath certain light, with tiny dark vines curling near the edges of the body. Sarah had joked that it looked “Too pretty for Jacob’s room,” and he’d rolled his eyes so hard she laughed for nearly a minute straight.
Jacob smiled at that memory.
After Seattle, though, the instrument spent more time resting against the corner of his room than in his hands.
The whitish color of the bones reminded him of his violin, and the arrangement of the bones somewhat resembled a violin, so to bring out the color more, his mind had formed a black violin. Then he began to draw this idea, presented to him by his imagination, on paper.
Jacob began by drawing a thick, dark line across the neck of the violin. Through mental projection, he saw the neck as the "spine." He thought of the spine's upright posture, strength, and the weight it carries, saying, "A musician's hands reaching for the notes are the tools that enable the violin to function, just like the spine."
Then, as he drew the upper body, ribs immediately appeared in his mind. The top of the violin seemed to him like a breathing entity. "Music requires breath. Ribs protect the breath," he thought. He made sure to look at the skeleton as he drew each rib.
As he moved to the lower body, the pelvic bone became clear in his mind. While drawing, he both shaded it with a gray tone and gave it a darker shade.
Finally, as he shaded the entire violin, a black void appeared in his mind. In this void, he heard his own heartbeat. With each shadow he drew, he reflected an emotion; with each white light, he reflected a hope. Some of the feelings he had experienced while playing his own violin resurfaced for a moment, as if reminding him of themselves once again.
The teacher was checking each student's work in the class, correcting some while praising others. When it was Jacob's turn, he picked up the paper.
The art class was almost completely silent. Only the sound of pencils scraping against the paper and the gentle tapping of rain on the window could be heard. The teacher walked between the rows and stopped in front of Jacob's desk. At first, she said nothing.
His eyes slowly scanned the drawing.
The ribs embedded in the body of the black violin… the spine running along the neck… the shaft that transforms into the pelvic bone at the bottom.
His brows furrowed slightly.
“This…” he began, his voice involuntarily slowing. “It’s truly impressive.”
Jacob didn't lift his head. His fingers still held the pencil loosely.
The teacher looked at the drawing for a few more seconds. It wasn't technically perfect, perhaps, but it felt incredibly lifelike. It was as if the violin had truly breathed once.
"Why did you draw it like that?" he finally asked.
Jacob paused for a moment.
He didn't know the answer to the question. Or he knew it but couldn't explain it.
When he saw the violin, ribs appeared in his mind. The neck transformed into a spine, the strings stretched like nerves. His mental projection hadn't left the object as it was; it had transformed it into something alive.
"It felt right," he finally said quietly.
The teacher looked at him. Then he turned back to drawing.
“…A little dark,” he murmured. “But very powerful.”
Before he even realized how time had flown, the bell rang, and the teacher placed the paper back in front of Jacob, giving him one last mischievous look. He walked past the students gathering their belongings and headed towards the teacher's desk.
Jacob gathered his belongings, carefully placed his work in his file, and left the classroom.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The third lesson was Math, and when the break bell rang, Jacob headed towards the Math classroom.
Jacob entered the classroom, found a suitable seat, and sat down.
The boy sitting next to him wasn't talkative, nor did he seem shy; he simply didn't care who sat next to him. Jacob noticed the slight dark circles under the boy's eyes, and as he turned his head to put his books away, a quiet yawn from beside him confirmed what was happening without any further analysis. The boy was too tired to bother with anyone.
The teacher walked to the blackboard and the lesson began.
As the lesson progressed, Jacob didn't start transferring the simulations in his mind onto paper. But for him, every equation, every problem wasn't a logic game, but part of the patterns in the classroom.
Jacob enjoyed deciphering this complex system. He had always found it entertaining to watch the numbers, equations, and formulas chase each other like a game.
The loud ringing of the bell announced that lunchtime had arrived.
Jacob put his books and belongings in his locker and went to the cafeteria.
When he opened the door, hhe was met with the clatter of plates, forks, and spoons, and the creaking of chairs being pulled out.
As he went to the place where the food was being served and got a tray for himself, he heard his name being called from a few rows behind him.
Looking towards where the sound came from, he saw Bella shyly raising her hand and smiling slightly. Jacob smiled back.
There was a short, blond, blue-eyed boy with him. Jacob and the boy made eye contact for a moment; there was something strange about the boy, he looked a little surprised and nervous.
Jacob immediately grabbed the pasta, apple slices, and juice. He found an empty table by the window and settled there, hesitating whether to wait for Bella or not, wondering if he was being rude. Bella, like Jacob, was a relatively new student; she had only been at Forks for a few weeks, maybe days. But he already saw a group of three boys and two girls with trays approaching his table.
The first person who caught his eye was a blonde girl, her smile quick, her eyes curiously focused on Jacob, walking a little ahead of the group, clearly the center of the social scene.
The other girl had dark brown hair, was calmer, had a softer gaze, and a more friendly demeanor.
He noticed a blond boy's eyes darting between Bella and Jacob. The boy was standing, or trying to stand, a little too close to Bella. You didn't need to be a scientist to understand what was happening.
A medium-sized boy of Asian descent was also on Bella's right, his eyes sparkling slightly as he spoke to her.
Jacob recognized the other boy immediately; it was the curly-haired boy who had honked at him that morning. Looking at him more closely now, Jacob saw he had a physique strong enough to be an athlete, gripping the tray tightly.
Jacob leaned back slightly. The group came to the table, and as expected, the blonde girl was the first to speak.
“Hi! You must be Jacob, right? Bella told me about you,” he said, turning to Bella, seemingly expecting a reply, but Bella said nothing, just shrugged.
"Yes, I'm Jacob... Jacob Black,".
The girl, somewhat excitedly, said, "I'm Jessica Stanley," then pointed to the girl next to her wearing glasses and added, "This is Angela Weber."
Angela nodded with a small smile.
The blond boy leaned forward, holding the tray with one hand while extending his other hand to Jacoba, saying with a cautious smile, "Mike Newton."
Jacob shook the extended hand not too tightly, but firmly.
The other child had a more curious expression. "Eric Yorkie," he said.
The last boy stepped forward and introduced himself, saying, "I'm Tyler Crowley." Then he paused for a moment, realizing something, and said, "Wait a minute, aren't you the boy who was standing in the middle of the road this morning?"
Jacob said, "Yep, it was me, sorry, I was distracted and not paying attention to what was happening."
Tyler touched the back of his neck with one hand, a guilty expression on his face, and said, "It's okay, I might have overreacted a little too harshly."
Jacob said with a sincere smile, "It's nothing."
Without waiting for the conversation to drag on any longer, Bella pulled up a chair and sat down, Mike and Eric settled on either side of her, Jessica sat next to Jacob, and Tyler and Angela sat together side by side.
Jessica immediately started the conversation, saying, "So Jacob, you're from La Push?"
There was a brief silence.
Jacob saw it. He was curious, a little prejudiced, expecting something exotic, excited.
Jacob nodded. "Yes," he said.
Mike immediately chimed in, "Isn't that...a reservation area?"
Jacob turned to Mike and said, "Yes, but it's not as dramatic as you think."
Eric leaned forward slightly and asked, "So... um... traditions and things like how works there?" unsure of the answer he would receive.
“Yes, we tie strangers to trees when they ask too many questions,” Jacob said, grinning when he saw Eric believe him and freeze. “Nah! I’m just kidding, man, there’s no such thing,” he added.
The tension at the table eased. Bella smiled mischievously as she played with her food with her fork. She found Eric's fear amusing.
Angela smiled and said, "Thankfully not."
"Well, I heard there's a school in the reservation area too, what brought you all the way here, Jacob?" Jessica asked, being careful not to sound harsh.
Jacob took a deep breath and exhaled. "It's completely a system error. My school registration has been deleted, and because it's deleted, I have to continue from here."
Tyler laughed and said, "Out of all the students in the school, bad luck just chose you!"
"It seems so," said Jacob, chuckling.
Mike changed the subject and said, "Was that motorcycle in the park yours this morning?"
After sticking his fork into his pasta, Jacob said, "Yes, that's mine, I've been using it for a long time." He put some pasta in his mouth and started chewing. Mike said, "That's good."
The conversation at the table flowed smoothly; nobody felt alienated by Jacob or found him strange.
Jacob leaned back in his chair after finishing his meal.
A flash of lightning struck the window to Jacob's left, its blue and purple color reflecting off the school, clearly visible through the fluorescent lights, but the weather in Forks was always turbulent.
Jacob looked at Bella, who sat opposite him, only speaking when something was said to her, and even then, only a few words. It was as if she was there, yet not really there.
Jacob wondered, "Did something happen between Charlie and her?"
Bella wasn't a very assertive girl, so it wasn't easy to understand what she would do or say, but she had both a reserved and open side.
Bella was pensive, judging by the way she only stirred her food with her fork, hardly eating anything, and constantly turning her head slightly to the left, her eyes fixed on something or someone. It was clear that something was bothering her.
Jacob pondered the reasons: Bella's shyness, their sudden decision to live together after not seeing Charlie for a long time, and everyone's attempts to interact with her in some way within their group of friends.
After entering the cafeteria, Jacob couldn't help but add something to the pattern that he had ignored but which would eventually surface.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bella thought to herself, "He looks perfect,as always"
When Bella first saw the Cullens, her mind almost involuntarily focused on a single point: beauty.
But this wasn't ordinary beauty; it created a sense of unsettling, inexplicable perfection.
They were as if they weren't human... Each one was striking on their own, but when they came together, they formed an almost unrealistic image. Bella couldn't tear her eyes away from them, even though she tried not to. She thought to herself, "It's not normal for them to look so perfect." The pallor of their skin, the fluidity of their movements, the silent harmony between them... It all seemed to whisper to Bella that something was wrong.
Yet, it wasn't just frightening; it was also fascinating. Bella was angry with herself for not being able to stop watching them. Her thoughts became even more confused, especially when she looked at Edward. The expression on his face was both inviting and repulsive.
Bella had noticed the Cullens' beauty ever since she arrived at school, but she saw it less as something romantic and more as part of a mystery she couldn't quite grasp. She felt both curiosity and a slight fear. It was as if she sensed that if she got any closer to this family, she would be drawn into something irreversible.
When Bella arrived from Phoenix a few days ago to start a new life, she hadn't anticipated seeing a group as surreal as the Cullens with her own eyes. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for such a situation. From day one, Bella had been following the Cullens' movements almost like a camera, watching what they ate and drank, how they sat at tables, got into cars, and even the movements of their lips when they spoke away from everyone, trying to understand what they were saying. She wondered where the Cullens might have gone in town, and everything else about them.
Although an inner voice told her to "stay away," Bella ignored it and tried to widen the hole even further. None of them even came near her; even when their eyes met, their faces occasionally showed something, but it was an insincere intimacy. It was like seeing a stranger on the street and wanting to change direction, but not running away because they've already seen you.
But apart from observing the Cullens from afar, and a few ordinary, cold, and distant words with Edward in Biology, she hadn't gotten anything. It was as if the Cullens were deliberately keeping their distance from her.
This situation was fuel for Bella to ask for and get more. The more the Cullens ignored her, the more she wanted to get closer. One of the Cullens, in particular, the eligible bachelor, was extremely appealing to her.
Bella couldn't quite put a name to what she felt every time she looked at Edward. She found his beauty almost disturbing; it was so flawless it seemed like it shouldn't belong to a human being. But that wasn't what really bothered Bella. There was a coldness and distance in Edward's gaze. This both repelled and attracted her. Edward Cullen was like this with everyone, but he was differently attentive to Bella.
She wanted to look at Edward, but realized he was already looking at her.
But in the end, neither Bella nor Edward took the plunge. Even though Bella looked at him, Edward didn't lower his cold, protective walls.
Bella was also looking for ways to break down those walls. She was making plans to meet him in shared classes, while getting food in the cafeteria, in line, and before heading to the cars after school, she was using every chance to catch a word, a conversation, even if only for a few seconds, to hear his voice, to catch that aromatic scent that attracted Bella.
She kept asking herself the same question: “Why is he so uncomfortable around me?” Because every moment she was with Edward, she felt as if he was trying to avoid her. But despite this, Bella couldn't stay away from him. Edward's voice, his movements, even his smallest facial expressions, caught Bella's attention.
The more she tried not to think about him, the more she thought about him.
The Cullens had very little interaction with Bella, but Edward was different, or so it seemed. During lunch breaks, when they often made eye contact, Edward would frown, turn his head away, or go straight to the library without going to the cafeteria. Sometimes when Bella went to the library to see Edward, she either couldn't find him there or he was already leaving; they could only meet at the door, but Bella never got a chance to say anything.
Without even realizing it, Edward passed by her like the wind, without saying a word.
Edward was bothered by Bella and ignored her.
But for Bella, ignoring Edward was as impossible as trying to make her voice heard from a distant mountain.
She whispered "Edward" quietly, so no one could hear. Then Bella lifted her head from the tray in front of her and looked at the table where the Cullens were sitting. Her eyes found Edward again.
This time something was different; Edward wasn't looking at her, but Bella saw shock in his eyes, a golden glow like the sun, as if under a spell, staring intently at the most captivating painting on Earth, never breaking focus.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Jacob looked at the Cullens as they entered the cafeteria, he could guess who they were and what they were, even though they all had different faces; for anyone with even a little knowledge, the truth was obvious. Looking at the golden hue of their eyes, he remembered his own eyes when he looked in the mirror every day. The Cullens' eyes were almost identical to his own, the only difference being that Jacob's eyes were slightly greener and had a lighter brown tint; the brown wasn't as dominant, but it was still a painful reminder of Jacob's previous eye color.
"So these are the famous vampires," he thought.
“Jessica,” Jacob’s soft but curious voice interrupted the conversation at the table. “Do you know who that group is?”
Jacob gestured towards the table where the Cullens were sitting.
"You mean the Cullens?" Jessica asked, somewhat eagerly.
Jacob said "Yes" and waited for Jessica to continue.
Bella remembered that when she first came to the schools,like Jacob she had asked Jessica about the Cullens. She smiled slightly at the memory.
She wasn't surprised that Jacob was curious about the Cullens; they were all considered the most striking and quirky in school. But Bella still felt a slight pang of jealousy against this sense of déjà vu. She knew it was silly, but for the past few days she'd been acting possessive of the Cullens, sometimes reflexively defending them against comments Mike made about them, or Jessica's comments about Edward being single or the other Cullens.
Jessica slowly began to tell Jacob about the Cullens.
“They just moved here, they’re the popular kids at school…you know,” he said with a mischievous grin. It was clear he was trying to say that the Cullens looked like models.
“That guy with the curly blonde hair, its Jasper, he’s a bit weird. I’ve hardly ever seen him talk to anyone at school, they’re always hanging out together anyway. And that short-haired girl sitting next to him, Alice, sometimes she can be really hyperactive, she’s really strange too, it’s not surprising they’re together,” Jessica said, somewhat judgmentally.
Bella said "Jessica" in a slightly harsh, warning tone.
Jessica said, "What? Am I wrong?"
Mike, stepping between the two girls, said, "They're adopted children after all, they're not all siblings."
Jessica rolled her eyes slightly; Mike's support for Bella annoyed her.
As Jessica recounted these things, Jacob began to read them automatically and rapidly. His mind started making calculations about the Cullens. Jacob's mind wasn't focused on the fact that the Cullens were vampires, but directly the Cullens themselves.Since it was already certain in his mind that they were vampires, such a detail was unnecessary.
Jasper sat without speaking, but Jacob felt a silent weight around him. The moment he looked at Jasper's straight, alert posture, brief images flashed before his eyes: an open field shrouded in smoke, pieces of dark fabric scattered on the ground, muddy boot prints, and the lingering smell of gunpowder. It looked like a battle scene, but there were no people in it—just a scene. The images moved through his mind for a few seconds, then slowly dissipated. The word "soldier" briefly appeared beside Jasper's head. Only a hard, heavy feeling remained.
Then his eyes fell on Alice. Jacob noticed Alice's movements as she sat at the table. At first glance, she was just an ordinary student, but his mind immediately tried to decipher her. She sat, her hands resting lightly on the edge of the table, yet at the same time she seemed about to turn her head, move her finger, or perhaps even smile slightly.
And his mind paused for the first time.
The moment he looked at Alice, a single image didn't form. Dozens of different movements overlapped simultaneously. Images of Alice turning her head, smiling slightly, standing up, looking away—all blended together. It was as if his mind couldn't choose a single scene, seeing all the possibilities at once.
Jacob felt slightly dizzy.
Alice didn't feel stable. The images around her constantly changed, like the reflections of light in water. For the first time, Jacob realized that he couldn't clearly define a person in his mind.
Then Alice looked at him.
As he tilted his head slightly to the side, a brief image flashed through Jacob's mind: a key in front of a closed door.
"I understand."
That was the message.
But the image disappeared just as quickly.
“The blonde girl, Rosalie, doesn’t talk to anyone, but there’s always something in her eyes…like contempt.She’s together with that big guy Emmet, he's kinda much more normal than the other but still weird though.” Jessica continued.
When Jacob looked at Rosalie, he was met with striking beauty; her eyes reflected both a sharp and a soft feeling, yet they seemed to say, "Stay away."
A bright light flashed in his mind. A crystal-clear, almost impenetrable image formed. White marble, unbroken mirrors, and thorny roses flashed before his eyes for a few seconds. It looked beautiful, but it also gave him a feeling of something dangerous to approach.
Emmet, as Jessica had said, looked more normal, but he had a large build and a substantial amount of muscle. Jacob saw Emmet lean in to say something to Edward, then gulp down one of the hard-boiled eggs and begin chewing it in one go. Jacob was momentarily speechless with surprise, then a slight smirk appeared on his face.
He noticed Edward frowning at Emmet as well. Emmet simply grinned in response.
Behind Emmet, the words "harmonious" and "calm" emerged.
Jessica pursed her lips and began to describe Cullen, who was the last one left.
"The boy with the slightly light brown hair is Edward; he's the only one among them without a girlfriend. He generally behaves the same as the others."
When Jacob looked at Edward, he saw that Edward was already looking at him. This startled him for a moment. He knew the Cullens were listening to their conversation at the table, but he hadn't expected Edward to look at him with such a piercing gaze; perhaps he had expected something more neutral, a colder expression.
Yellow-gold eyes met hazel eyes for the first time. Edward wasn't looking anywhere else, he didn't even move his head; he just sat in the chair, staring at Jacob, as if Medusa had come and turned Edward to stone. But the only thing about Edward that remained vibrant and unchanged was his eyes, his pupils dilated as if they wanted to seize the yellow color.
When Edward's golden eyes locked onto Jacob, the first thing that came to Jacob's mind was a single word.
Curiosity.
The word was faint but distinct enough to be seen, floating in the air.
But unlike the previous words, it didn't disappear immediately.
As Jacob looked at Edward's hand resting on the table and the position of his fingers, multiple instruments came to mind, but the faint sound of a piano made itself known. A dark room, black and white piano keys, and the echo of an empty melody. Brief images formed of long fingers moving across the keys.
This caught Jacob's attention. He had always respected artists who felt and performed music with all their heart and passion. But when Jacob saw Edward playing the piano, he involuntarily felt a pang of sadness. He looked less like someone playing the piano and more like an empty, faceless mannequin.
Neither Jacob nor Edward broke eye contact; Jacob was certainly not one to back down easily, it was like two goats butting heads on a bridge, each trying to prevent the other from passing. But there was an invisible attraction between them, not tense, not frightening, but somewhat intriguing and exciting.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Edward first heard the name Jacob Black, the new child, sound familiar. It must have belonged to Ephraim Black, the leader of the Quileute tribe years ago. Almost 70 years had passed since the treaty was made, so it wasn't surprising that he had a family and grandchildren.
The Cullens hadn't imagined a werewolf willingly visiting a school with vampires; initially, when they discussed it together, they suspected an attack, but everyone was somewhat relieved when Carlisle called Billy Black and reminded them that the agreement was still valid, although they were still cautious.
When the Cullens arrived at school, they expected to smell something disgusting, like the wet dog odor they'd encountered years ago, but there was nothing.
They all sensed something was wrong with Jacob; their instincts seemed to be signaling it to them. But they couldn't say for sure.
Edward had been following Jacob with his eyes since the first time he saw him in the cafeteria, trying to read his mind and gather information about whether there was anything going on concerning his family. But what he saw shocked him; it was as if he could read Jacob's thoughts like a film reel. But there were no sounds, no sentences like he heard from other people; he only saw words flying around and revealing themselves. He saw that Jacob could read people just like him. While Edward only saw the thoughts being considered at that moment, Jacob could see many things.
This annoyed him somewhat; it was quite strange that a 17-year-old Native American boy could do such things.
Edward felt as if he had seen someone who didn't resemble him at all, but was his twin. This unnerved him slightly, but he continued reading Jacob without losing focus; it was as if he had been drawn into the film, unable to tear his eyes away from it.
Jacob sat at the table and saw Bella and her group reading them all, their thoughts almost identical to Edward's. He felt somewhat relieved to hear that Jacob wasn't posing a threat and had only been forced to come to this school by accident; he understood that his family wasn't in a trap or in danger. But he realized that the reason for this relief wasn't just his family, but also that he didn't want to confront Jacob, he wanted to talk to him and ask, "Why does your mind work that way?"
But then her focus shifted to a familiar voice: Bella Swan.
"He looks perfect,as always."Bella's voice echoed in Edward's mind, and he felt the need to sigh in exasperation. Sadly, this wasn't the first time Bella had thought this way about him, and it seemed unlikely to be the last.
Bella knew they weren't normal, but the way the girl defined him; if there was one thing Edward hated besides himself, it was being deified. It just disgusted him, whether it was done to him or anyone else.He has no problem with Bella, but the girl was capable of suffocating someone who didn't even need to breathe.
Ignoring the frustrating interruption while reading Jacob's mind, he refocused his full attention on him.
He wanted to understand Jacob, to see the game being played behind the curtain, the game he couldn't see. It was as if he wanted to sit in a chair and memorize the film being played in front of him.
As Jessica was telling Jacob about the Cullens, Edward saw that Jacob was mentally reading his siblings, reading them as well. As he read about Jasper, a battle scene, along with possibilities, suddenly appeared before Edward's eyes, like a commercial break during a TV show. Edward realized that Jacob was also visualizing possibilities and thoughts in a simulation. It was like watching live, action-packed scenes float through the air from an open, magical book.
Edward was fascinated, almost mesmerized, by Jacob's mind.
The child's mind was conjuring up thoughts. Edward kept thinking, "How can he do that?" He felt as if a bomb of curiosity had exploded inside him. When he focused more, he saw that he was reading his other siblings as well.
But Jacob's mind lingered on Alice for a moment; he saw her sitting at a table, then not, constantly changing positions. Edward was used to this; he encountered it when reading Alice's mind, but something was different. Edward saw Alice turning her head, smiling, and moving in Jacob's mind, all layered and incremental. Alice was performing multiple actions simultaneously.
All the movements were holographic, like putting a part together and taking it apart, separating and reassembling it, then separating again.
Alice's images then became transparent and vanished.
This is what fascinated Edward. Edward's mind worked in a thought-provoking, meaning-oriented, and results-oriented way.
But Jacob wasn't working by solving them; he was reflecting them. Emotions turned into words, intuitions into images, and possibilities into moving scenes.
For the first time, Edward saw not only “what a person was thinking” but also how they experienced the world. Jacob’s mind was cinematic, not logical; fluid, not static. A thought sometimes transformed into a color, sometimes a melody, sometimes a memory that came alive for a few seconds.
For Edward, this wasn't just mind reading.It was like walking inside another mind.
This made Edward uneasy for a moment, as if he were being drawn into a vortex, but his curiosity about what might lie in the depths of that vortex spurred him to want more.
This situation wasn't suffocating; on the contrary, it was addictive. Edward couldn't stop looking. The more he looked at Jacob, the more he wanted to look.
Edward realized something else. Alice could see the future; the possibilities that were beginning to become clear, the paths that were approaching, and the repercussions of the decisions people would make. But Jacob Black didn't see the future. Jacob felt the future, projecting it in his mind. While Alice's ability showed a specific outcome, Jacob's mind transformed the possible outcomes into images.
Therefore, Alice could describe only one vision, but Jacob's mind could simultaneously project multiple scenes; shifting possibilities, incomplete images, and moments yet to be decided. For the first time, Edward thought that Alice's power carried the "result," while Jacob's mental projection carried the "sense of possibilities."
Edward looked at Emmet with disgust as he popped the earth-flavored eggs into his mouth and chewed them loudly. "Are we really sure you're a vampire?"
Emmet teased him, "It's not clear yet." Edward turned his attention back to Jacob, smiling slightly at how accurate the metaphor of the thorny rose was and calmness when he read about Emmet and Rosalie.
After reading about his siblings, he felt like an excited child waiting for his turn, wondering what Jacob might see or read about him.
When Jacob looked at him, their eyes met, and Edward felt a thrill as he saw those hazel eyes staring at him uninterrupted. This was a first in his immortal life.
Edward thought to himself, "What do you see in me?" as if Jacob were sitting opposite him and he was talking to him.
Edward then noticed Jacob's eyes droop slightly, looking at his hands. Edward didn't move his hands at all, as if he were about to knock something over; he didn't want to disrupt the flow of conversation if Jacob was going to find out something about him.
He saw himself playing the piano, the violin, and the guitar in a dimly lit room. After the other two instruments disappeared, he felt as if a camera was filming him while playing the piano, and watching himself on video.
Then Jacob's eyes turned back to him.
The thought that they were vampires hadn't crossed Jacob's mind, but it was as if Edward understood it even without saying a word. Edward realized that he could be understood, his feelings felt, without speaking a single word to someone.
Jacob turned his head away, no longer looking at Edward. It was as if he had erased Edward from his mind. Edward frowned and tried to read his mind again.
But it didn't work out. He achieved nothing.
He got up from the chair, as if he wanted to go over to Jacob, but then immediately sat down again. His sibling couldn't understand what was happening either.
Rosalie asked, "What happened?"
Edward brushed it off, saying, "Nothing." He wanted to go to Jacob and ask, "Where did everything go?" He was shocked by what he was thinking. It was as if he had fallen into a river and the currents were dragging him away; the strangest thing was that Edward was willing to drown in that river.
He wondered what had caused this; where had everything he had seen just seconds ago gone? He felt as if had been dreaming, and when he woke up, what he had seen was nothing but an illusion.
When Jacob turned his head, his mind had shut down, or perhaps he had shut it off. Edward guessed that Jacob was "tired if his mind is always like this," as he couldn't shut off his own power; after all, this power, which was so useful to him, was also a curse.
Edward couldn't be sure. "Is his mind only closed to me? Even though I can't see him, is his mind still calculating things?" he wondered.
Emmet's voice briefly pulled Edward out of Jacob's mind.
“So,” said Emmett with a curious grin. “Is the new kid any good, or should we take precautions?”
Everyone at the table had subtly turned their attention to Edward. They all sensed this new boy was unlike the others, but the expression on Edward's face made the situation even stranger.
Edward was silent for a few seconds. When he looked into Jacob's mind again, he saw the same thing.
There were no thoughts, no sentences, but there were no voids either. Instead, there were moving images.
Overlapping scenes.
In Jacob's mind, people didn't seem to think; feelings, possibilities, and associations transformed into short films.
Edward finally quietly,
"There's no sound," he said. "But there are images."
Emmett Cullen raised an eyebrow.
"So, is his head empty?"
Edward's eyes instantly turned to her.
"No."
There was an unusually sharp tone in his voice.
Alice Cullen leaned forward slightly. A gleam of curiosity flickered in her eyes.
"What did you see than?"
Edward paused briefly.
The images forming in Jacob's mind were still vivid in his mind; words, colors, fragmented scenes, possibilities forming and dissipating simultaneously…
Edward continued.
“When you think of something, your mind projects it. Images… emotions… scenes in motion.”
Then his eyebrows furrowed slightly.
"And sometimes there isn't just one image."
Rosalie Hale crossed her arms over her chest.
"So, undecided?"
Edward nodded slightly.
"I don't think so, it's as if his mind is staging all the possibilities at once," Edward said quietly.
Alice's expression changed.
"Like the future..." she whispered.
Edward answered without turning his head, "No, you see the result, Alice."
Then he looked at Jacob again.
"This...is something else," he said in a voice almost a whisper.
Edward was struggling even as he tried to explain it.
“His mind doesn’t show the future,” he finally said. “It senses the possibilities. And it reflects them all at once.”
Jasper Hale leaned forward slightly.
"That's mentally impossible."
Edward frowned.
"But it happens."
He was silent for a second.
"It's like watching a movie," commented Emmet.
Then he tilted his head slightly to the side.
Alice looked at Jacob without taking her eyes off him.
Edward's stories had piqued her interest.
Alice finally turned her power towards Jacob. She tried to see his future, the possibilities, the consequences of his decisions, the visions his choices presented to him.
But the images didn't become clear. They were blurry, yet distinct at the same time.
For a moment he saw Jacob standing. Then the image faded. Another Jacob appeared; this time he was turning in another direction.
Then he disappeared too.
It was as if her visions refused to stay still. Alice's brows furrowed slightly. This wasn't the first time, but the lack of clarity bothered her. "Why isn't it clear?" she wondered to herself.
Jacob was there.
But it also felt like it was present in several other places as well.
Their visions just couldn't converge on a single path.
It was as if the images were slipping through his fingers.
Alice blinked involuntarily.
"Okay, this is odd."
A surprised smile formed on his lips.
"I can see him, but I'm not entirely sure what his next move will be."
Rosalie immediately said, "So the power isn't working properly in it."
Alice shook her head slightly.
"No,ıt's working’’
There was a brief silence.
“Wait,” Alice fidgeted excitedly in her chair, like an eager student who had just found the answer to a question. “I saw him, he’s going to the gym.”
After Alice's words, Edward turned his head and looked at Jacob, trying to overhear the conversation at the table, to read their minds.
Edward was so focused on solving Jacob's case that he had completely forgotten about Bella Swan.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Bella followed Edward's gaze, she saw Jacob sitting a full arm's length in front of her, looking at Edward in the same way. Bella was watching Edward; the girl's thoughts echoed clearly and distinctly."Why is he looking at him?"
Bella frowned and stabbed her fork into her food several times; of course Bella would notice Edward's moment with Jacob, she was following him like a hawk, she was a very good observer and had sensed that something was up in Edward's behavior.
She had seen Edward look at her a few times, but it definitely wasn't like this; he either avoided eye contact or acted as if Bella wasn't there.
She saw Edward move as if to get up from the table, and a wave of excitement washed over her: "Is he coming here?" Then she realized something. "Why would Edward come here?"
Bella bit her lip and shrugged, it bothered her that Edward reacted like that to anything or anyone other than her.
"Jacob, can I call you Jake? Is that okay?" Mike asked, his voice slightly excited.
Jacob smiled and said, "That's fine with me."
“Great! What’s your next class? We're gonna go to Physical Education.” he said, pointing to Tyler.
"Mine's physical education too," said Jacob. He didn't actually want to go to the locker room with the group; he was going to keep his long-sleeved shirt and put on his sports uniform directly, but he still felt a little uncomfortable. He was sure that if his waist got exposed or his pants got bunched up while changing, Mike or Tyler would see it and bombard him with questions.
Jacob wasn't ashamed of his body; it was just tedious having to answer the questions and
he was running out of excuses.
He would probably say something like it was a birthmark or that he'd been struck by lightning. Explaining the marks on his body was easy; the real question was, what would he say if someone asked about the bite mark? Luckily, the bandage he'd been wearing all this time had saved him the trouble, but there was always a risk.
When Jacob heard the bell ring, he and the others put their trays down in the collection area. Bella, Angela, and Jessica had History class. Jessica complained about how boring History class would be.
Bella seemed a little nervous. Without waiting for the girls, she put down her tray and left the cafeteria. She picked up her books and belongings and went to class.
Jessica and Angela sensed something was wrong, but they didn't say anything.
Eric said he would have a free period and was going to the library to study.
Jacob went into the locker room with the other students and changed his clothes, putting on his uniform over his black long-sleeved shirt and his shorts over his athletic leggings. Luckily, there were no problems.
He entered the gym and started playing basketball with the others.
The gymnasium echoed; the sound of the ball hitting the floor, the rubbing of shoes, and the shouts all merged into a single rhythm.
The moment the opposing player's shoulder moved, images flashed through Jacob Black's mind.
He saw a shoe slip to the right. The ball spins in the air. The loud thud of footsteps on the court. The momentary movement of an arm. It all overlapped for a few seconds.
Brief scenes flashed before Jacob's eyes. One image of his opponent moving to the right. Another of him cutting inside. A brief moment of him passing the ball.
Then the others dispersed.
There was only one move left.Jacob made a move to the left.
The sound of his shoes on the parquet floor echoed in his mind. The moment he passed his opponent, the images changed again. The hoop, the lights, the raised hands, and the circle grew larger in his mind for a few seconds.
Edward Cullen was watching him from the seating area on the side of the field.
When Edward tried to read Jacob, he was met with images overflowing from Jacob's mind; moving lights, fleeting scenes, brief reflections.
The ball's return.
The lines on the parquet floor.
Bodies leaping upwards.
And amidst all of this, Jacob's mind was only showing.
The moment Jacob leaped toward the hoop, the images in his mind momentarily expanded. Then the image shattered. The ball slipped from Jacob's hand.
At that moment, all the scenes in his mind went silent. And the ball went through the hoop.
As the hall filled with applause, Jacob descended to the floor. His breathing was calm. The images in his mind had shrunk once again, reduced only to the rhythm of the play.
After the bell rang signaling the end of physical education class, all the students went to the locker rooms to change. Jacob put his black flannel shirt and pants back on and went to the next class.
He got tired and felt a headache coming on.
After entering the sociology class, he sat down at his desk. The teacher, who seemed eager for the day to end, arrived immediately. The other students also took their seats and began listening to the lesson. This time, Jacob only listened, he didn't analyze; he was already tired and didn't want to get even more tired in the last hours of school. He might be a half-vampire, but he could still get tired. After reading about the Cullens, the lessons, and the other students all day, his mind had retreated to its own space, saying, "That's enough for today." But the price of all this effort was a bitter headache.
After taking notes in his notebook on some of the topics Professor Jacob had discussed, the final bell rang, bringing joy to everyone.
The creaking of tables and chairs, the sound of everyone rushing out, filled the classrooms. Jacob gathered his belongings and left the school. As usual, it was raining, pouring down with all its might as if determined to soak everyone.
Jacob loved the rain; he never complained about getting wet, and even if he wanted to, he didn't wear a hat or hooded garment to cover his head.
He inhaled the aroma of rain mixed with the scent of earth and trees. Feeling the weariness in his shoulders lessen, Jacob walked towards his motorcycle.
Bella opened the truck door and sat down. She pulled down the hood of her raincoat and turned her head to look behind her through the small window that allowed her to see into the truck's cargo bed.
"He was so weird today," she thought to herself. A sad expression was on her face. She bit her lip, turned back to the front, and started the truck by turning the ignition.
Jacob wondered where Bella was looking, and when he turned his head to the side, he saw Edward Cullen standing next to the grey Volvo he'd seen that morning, leaning one arm on the car's roof and looking at him.
While his other siblings were trying to protect themselves from the rain with the BMW's convertible top, he just stood there, oblivious to the rain, looking at Jacob.
Jacob paused for a moment, returning Edward's gaze. Edward's lips parted slightly, as if he were about to speak. Alice approached him and nudged his shoulder, causing Edward to look away from Jacob. Alice immediately opened the front passenger door and sat down.
Jacob had already gotten on his motorcycle, and without even glancing in the direction the Cullens were, he pulled out of the parking lot and started heading home.
Jacob was unaware that Edward was watching his leave.