Page 4 of Forks

Piled outside were stacks of carts. Grabbing one, I pushed it through the sliding doors. Once inside, the fresh smell of seafood and baked goods accosted me. It smelled pretty good since I was only burning Red Hots on an otherwise empty stomach. I filled up the cart with all the staples we needed from the refrigerator section and then headed on over to the canned isle. Loading up on Chunks-Sirloin-Burger-soup and Home-style-Chicken-Noodle, and I then moved over to the paper isle and got the much needed jumbo pack of toilet paper.

  I figured since I was here I better stock up, that way my mom wouldn’t have an excuse to go out to the store and get lost for like, ever. The Wanderer by Dion, warbled out of the overhead speakers. I felt like I should say a doo whop or something. Still, it was a catchy tune and I beat my hands on the little plastic strip on the cart in time to the song, squeaking down another isle. This one had coffee and cereal. I grabbed some Captain Crunch and a box of breakfast bars.

  A small blonde haired boy flew past and grabbed hold of a box of Cookie Crisp and then took off.

  A frazzled looking woman, with a hat smashed over her short blonde hair tore after him. “Harold, put that back!”

  “Excuse me,” She elbowed her way past me.

  “Run, Harold,” I muttered.

  Harold turned and looked right at me, like he heard me. Then he smiled. His eyes glinted strangely under the fluorescent lights, and he took off around the corner.

  A shiver ran up my spine. I quickly pushed my over-full cart up to the front checkout stand. Unloading, I put everything on the black conveyer belt and then dug out my wallet from my backpack.

  “What, no Red Hots?” A deep voice whispered from behind.

  Two boxes of Red Hots landed on the conveyer belt.

  I froze.

  “Ring those up too, would you, Sandy?”

  “Sure, Vincent.” She smiled, and slid her hand over the front of her apron.

  “Those aren’t…” Sandy rang them up and dumped them in the bag before I could even finish. Turning around I looked right into the smiling green eyes of my car buddy. “I thought your name was Van?”

  “I lied.” His eyes glittered. Instead of an uneasy feeling, my stomach flipped. He raked his hand through his wet hair, spattering water everywhere. “Long time no see.” He grinned wider.

  “Not long enough,” I muttered and pulled out my credit card.

  “Wow. Still feisty I see.”

  “Whatever.” I ignored him or tried to—he was kind-of hard to ignore. He was standing really close. If I moved back just an inch, my back would be pressed up against his Superman logo. Once my groceries were in the cart, I paid and grabbed the handle, pushing it out of the store.

  “Hey, wait up.”

  I pushed the cart faster. The wheel kept spinning around, making it impossible to move fast.

  When I got outside it was raining even harder. Heavy sheets of freezing rain sliced against me, slowing my progress.

  “Hey, what’s your hurry?” he asked, walking backward into the parking lot.

  “Watch out!” I yelled.

  A huge black SUV barreled past. Vincent or Van jumped out of the way just in time as water splashed over us both.

  “Donkeyhole!” I yelled after the retreating vehicle.

  “Calm down tiger.” He laughed. “It’s only water.” He pressed his hands to the front of my cart, stopping my escape.

  “What is wrong with you?” I shoved my cart again. He didn’t budge. “I’m getting soaked.”

  “You may be sweet but I doubt you’ll melt.” His lip curled up into a slow smile. Rivulets of water slid down his face and his hair hung limply above his broad shoulders.

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to catch pneumonia standing out in the middle of it, either.”

  “Yeah, I guess that is a good point.”

  “Gee thanks.” He gave me a strange look and my belly did another funky flip thing. “Can you move so I can get my groceries in my car?”

  He turned and looked at my car. “What a piece of…”

  I glared at him, daring him to say more. It was hard though with a deluge of rain pelting me in my face.

  “Let me help.” He stepped forward and opened my trunk.

  “I can manage.” I lifted a bag and dropped it into the trunk. The cans of soup rolled across the bottom.

  He put his hand on mine. A spark shot up my arm. I jerked it away. My thoughts jumbled. Not able to argue, let alone think straight, I let him help me unload the groceries into my car. Slamming my trunk down, I pushed past my cart, unlocked the door, and climbed in. The passenger side of my car opened and he slid inside.

  “What are you doing?”

  He slammed the door shut, turned toward me, and raked his hand through his hair. “I …” His eyes locked on mine. With the rain falling heavily, closing us safely inside the car, it felt like we were in our own little world. It felt a bit unreal.

  “Let me guess.” I held up my hand when he tried to speak. “You need a place to hide out from the aliens that are descending on us.”

  “Funny.” He smirked at me. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Have you heard of a phone?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know your number.”

  “And that’s the way it will stay.”

  “Such hostility, and here I thought we were becoming friends.”

  “Really, and do you often stalk your friends in the grocery store and throw them down the hallway.

  “Oh, so you saw me?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?” he asked.

  “Your t-shirt is kind of hard to miss.”

  “Oh right.” He shook his head. “It glows in the dark too.”

  “Wow…really?” I feigned interest.

  “Yeah, it does.” He smoothed his hand over his chest. “It unleashes my super powers when I wear it.”

  My eyes boggled.

  “You aren’t the only smartass.” His lips twitched.

  “I don’t care.” Even as I said it, I smiled back at him. It was kind-of hard not to. He was pretty cute.

  “So are you going to give me a ride home?”

  “No.”

  “You wound me with your cold words.” He pressed his hand to his chest theatrically.

  “What are you, Shakespeare?”

  “Parting from you will be such sweet sorrow,” he said.

  “Oh stop!” I laughed.

  “She laughs.” He lifted his brow.

  “Yes, she does when something is funny.”

  “Come on, can’t you give me a ride?” He lowered his lashes and my stomach swirled.

  “How’d you get here?”

  “I caught a ride.”

  “Where did your ride go?”

  “Back to hell, I guess.” He winked at me.

  A shiver of unease slid up my back.

  His lips curled into a slow smile. “Have you heard of a joke?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why aren’t you laughing?”

  “Someone needs to say something funny in order for me to do that.”

  “That hurts.” He gave me a wounded look.

  “I think you’ll survive.”

  He grinned. “I like you.”

  That took me off guard. “Um…thanks…I guess.” I frowned out my window.

  Leaning forward, he placed his finger under my chin and turned my face towards his. “Have I rendered you speechless with my breathy proclamations?” His gaze settled on my lips, his fingers gently stroked my jaw.

  Holding my breath, I stared at his full lips—my heart suddenly pounding. Was he going to kiss me? My mind reeled. I’d never been kissed… well, not a real kiss. I was dared to kiss Timothy Durant in middle school but that didn’t count. It was a dare, after all and it was not memorable either. He inhaled my face.

  A loud crash sounded and my car vibrated.

  I jumped in the seat and held my hand to my raging heart. “What was that?”

  “
Stay here!” He jumped out of the car and slammed the door.

  The rain was coming down so heavily it was a blurry curtain on my windshield, making it impossible to see outside. Part of me wanted to turn on the car and put the pedal to the medal and get the heck outta dodge but another part was worried about Van or Vincent—I wasn’t sure what his real name was. Reaching forward, I opened up my glove box and pulled out my little Taser. I held it up, prepared to zap the crap out of someone. My passenger door swung open…

  “Whoa!” He held up his hands.

  I blinked stupidly, my heart raging.

  “It was just your cart…the wind,” he explained hastily.

  “Oh.” Feeling stupid, I lowered the Taser.

  “What were you going to do with that?” He eyed my Taser.

  “I don’t know…help you.” I shrugged.

  “I knew it.” He grinned.

  “What?”

  “You do like me.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “Puhleeze.”

  His eyes glittered. “Where were we?”

  “You were going to get out of my car and go home.”

  “So I guess you’re not giving me a ride then and here I was going to save you and all.”

  “From what? My grocery cart?”

  “You know they do give you tickets for stuff like that here?”

  “They do?” My eyes widened.

  He shook his head. “No.” He laughed. “That was a joke, Switzerland.”

  Tensing, I glared at him. “Okay what is with all the Switzerland crap?”

  “You aren’t on either side.”

  “And what sides would those be?”

  “You aren’t a Vampire, obviously, and you aren’t a Werewolf, so you are Switzerland.”

  I blinked rapidly. Crap. Was he crazy too? “I’m not following you.”

  He exhaled and dragged his hand over his face. “It’s a long story and I don’t really have the time. I kind of need to get home for dinner. My mom turns into a real bear if I am late.”

  I laughed.

  He didn’t.

  “Are you messing with me again?”

  “About which part?” He lifted his brow. “My mom turning into a bear…or the Vampire-Werewolf stuff?” he asked.

  “All of it.”

  “No and yes,” he said.

  “Oh my God,” I exhaled, flustered. “What is wrong with you?”

  He frowned. “Nothing is wrong with me…what is wrong with you?”

  “You are messing with me…right?”

  “No and yes,” he said and shrugged.

  I couldn’t take it. “Get out!”

  “It’s raining,” he complained.

  “You’re not sugar,” I snipped. “So, I doubt you will melt.”

  “Using my lines against me?”

  “I hate to break it to you, those aren’t your lines.”

  “What?” He raked his hair back from his face, feigning shock. “And all this time I thought they were my lines.” His lips twitched.

  “Sure you did.” I deadpanned, trying to keep my face serious.

  “You got me,” he admitted. “I was making it up.”

  “He tells the truth.”

  “Sure he can.” He lifted his brow. “It’s more fun to make stuff up though…don’t you think?”

  “Sometimes,” I agreed, a smile spreading across my face.

  “Come on Switzerland, give me a ride.”

  Exhaling, I looked out the blurry windshield. If possible, it was raining even harder. “Fine,” I said, relenting. “Where do you live?”

  “Sweet,” he said, turning around in the seat. “Just drive, I will give you directions on the way.”

  “Okay.” Ole Peggy Sue groaned to life as I turned the key. Throwing the car into gear, I crept out of the parking lot up to the stop sign. “Which way do I go?”

  “Make a left out of the shopping center.”

  There weren’t many cars on the road, which was good since I couldn’t see much. The sky was already darkening and with the fog, I could see only a few feet in front of my car. I hit the high beams.

  “It is harder to see in fog with the high beams on,” he informed me.

  “Do you want to drive?” I gripped the steering wheel.

  “Sure.”

  “You are not driving my car, I don’t even know you.”

  “And yet she gives me a ride.”

  “Don’t push your luck.”

  He lifted his hand and made a zipping motion over his lips.

  “So what is your name?” I glanced over at him. His hand was pressed to my dashboard, like he was bracing for the inevitable impact. Typical.

  “Vincent. What’s yours?”

  “Amber.”

  “So I guess you’re not down with the whole Vampire, Werewolf thing.”

  “Um…” What was I supposed to say to that? “No, not really,” I said and slowed around a turn.

  “Have you heard the stories?”

  “What stories?”

  “The ones the Twilight books are based from?”

  “They are fiction.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” he said dismissively. “Are you familiar with them?”

  “Not really. I am more a Stoker, Rice type of girl.”

  “Oh, so you believe in Vampires but not sparkly ones, is that it?”

  “Well, yeah. If there are Vampires, which I highly doubt,” I added and glanced at him. “Come on, they drink blood and live in the dark so why would they sparkle?”

  “Good question.” He adjusted the strap on his seatbelt. “You do realize that even if books are written in fiction most are based on some fact.”

  “I guess. I haven’t given it much thought.” Water sprayed up from the road. Jerking my wheel to the left, I dodged a pothole. Gloomy landscape blurred as we headed further out of the town. Large trees surrounded us on either side, the rain weighing heavy on the branches making them hang low to the ground. Fog encroached from the shadows, threatening to consume us completely. It was hard enough to see and with the fog and rain, it was almost impossible to make out the yellow line in the road. Holding the steering wheel in a death grip, I slowed around another turn.

  “So, what brings you to Forks?”

  “My mom …” I didn’t bother mentioning she was batshit crazy, too.

  “Interesting…” He stroked his chin.

  “What is so interesting about that?” I glanced at him again. His profile was pretty hot in a young DiCaprio kind of way. Actually, he might be a little hotter. My stomach swirled again.

  “It just is.” He wiped the fog from the inside of the windshield. “You’re going to need to make a left in a minute.”

  All I could see was tree trunks. Then suddenly there was a break in the trees and I slammed on the brakes. The car skidded forward on the wet pavement, coming to a screeching halt.

  “What the—!” His hands pressed to the dashboard. “Are you trying to kill us?”

  “No.” My heart pounded. “I didn’t see the turn. You could have told me you live in the woods.”

  “I said you needed to make a left.”

  “Well I didn’t know it was in the middle of two big trees.”

  He unhooked his seatbelt.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting out,” he said and grabbed the handle.

  “Don’t you want me to take you to your house?”

  “Nah, it’s probably flooded from the rain.”

  “Your house is flooded?”

  He laughed. “No, Switz…err…Amber, my driveway.”

  “Oh.”

  “See you tomorrow.” He opened the door.

  “You were kidding about all that Vampire/Werewolf stuff, right?” I called after him.

  He turned. His eyes flickered. “Maaybee.” He winked and jumped out. “Thanks for the ride.”

  Before I could even say goodbye, the door slammed in my face.

  A horn honked, spu
rring me to move. I threw my car into gear and headed down the road a good mile before I found a safe place to turn around. Driving slowly past the trees, I looked for his driveway but all I could see were the trunks of trees pressed closely together. It was as if the driveway was never there. Freaked, I punched the gas and headed back for home.

  four

  When I pulled up to the house a squad car was in the driveway. With my heart thumping in my chest I jumped out into the river of water in my drive and raced to my house and threw open the front door; it banged loudly against the wall. “Mom!”

  “Goodness Amber, where’s the fire?” Mom asked, turning from the couch where I had left her that morning but instead of a book, she had Deputy Dawg in her hand…well his hand.

  “Are you all right?” I frowned and shoved my wet hair from my face.

  She laughed. It sounded more like a weird kid giggle from a horror movie. “Of course, silly. Officer Warren was just telling me about the “incidents” that have been happening lately. Wasn’t that nice of him to come by? He wanted to check on us. Since I wasn’t home, I assumed he was checking on my Mom. Wierdo. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Hello,” he said. “Amber…is it?”

  “Duh.” I made a face, rolling my eyes.

  “Amber, mind your manners.”

  “Sorry ah…”

  “Officer Warren, you can call me Ken though.” He gave me a wide smile worthy of toothpaste commercial.

  Ken? His blonde hair was molded to his head with an overload of product and his buff body was snuggly tucked inside a tan uniform.

  What a wad.

  I rolled my eyes and headed back out the door.

  “Amber Regina Elisa Davis, get back inside this house.”

  I tensed and stepped backward. My mom couldn’t pick one name she liked, so she gave me them all. “I am getting the groceries.” Yanking up my hood, I walked back into the torrential downpour.

  After I unloaded the groceries, I stomped up the stairs to take a hot shower and change into my sweats while my soup warmed on the stove. Deputy Dawg finally left but he made a point to say he would be back tomorrow to check in on us “girls”. The way it looked to me, he was checking my Mom out, not the other way around. Still, I guess I should be happy. At least he was real and not some character in my mother’s books she liked to chat with when she thought no one was listening.

  Stacks of boxes were all over my room. I hadn’t unpacked yet. My Mom was never one to stay in one place for very long and I was hoping she would get over her fascination with Forks and take us somewhere warm. Since Deputy Dawg was now in the picture that would probably not be likely though, at least not anytime soon.

  Stripping off my wet clothes, I dropped them in the hamper at the top of the stairs. A laundry chute went to the basement but it made a weird creaking noise when I opened it and it freaked me out. So, like some of the other rooms in this old Victorian monstrosity we were renting, I avoided it as much as possible. On the second floor, there were other larger rooms that I could have used as a bedroom but I liked the vibe I got from the attic. It had a huge circular window and it even opened up onto a little balcony. I had sat out there a few times to see the stars but it was usually raining, cloudy, or foggy. Actually now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen the sun once since I’d been here. No wonder Stephanie Meyer picked this place to write about, the sun never came out.

  I turned on the television and listened to the wannabe oompha-loompah, bleach blonde newscaster talk about the weather for the next few days. At least she wasn’t sparkling.

  Great.

  It didn’t look like the sun would be shining anytime soon. Apparently, the rain was making a big show of hanging out for a few more days, which meant it would be raining again, tomorrow. Perfect.

  Hopping on one foot, I peeled off my last wet sock and dropped it in the hamper with the rest of my clothes. Grabbing my robe and toiletries, I headed for the bathroom. The only bad thing about being on the top floor, I had to walk down an entire flight of stairs to use the bathroom, which got pretty tricky especially when I was half asleep. Last night, I almost face planted, but since my mother didn’t work, beggars can’t be choosers. She got a pretty decent monthly check from my Dad and also some royalties from a jingle she co-wrote with him, during the short stint they were married. Not that you could tell. Our house was filled with old crappy furniture that looked like it was from a garage sale. I swear she was hiding money away, cuz I could never tell what she spent it on except the movie and book paraphernalia she called brick-a-brack—whatever that was.

  Maybe that was why my dad had a new wife, Jessica. She was “easy on the eyes,” he would say. She reminded me of the character Jessica Rabbit: all boobs. She was only five years older than me, and they had a new kid too, little Humphrey. I called him Humpty Dumpty—he was a real brat. So needless to say I didn’t see my dad often. Instead of parental visits, I got a staple check and card on my birthday and Christmas. And every once in a while I would get some stuffed animal from build-a-bear for Easter. I guess he thought I was still a kid, or I was getting Humphrey’s cast offs.

  Why my mother kept Peggy Sue, her trashy beat up Chevy was beyond me, besides the fact she said it held sentimentality from when she was younger. I wished she would get sentimental about something else and get us a decent car. But no, not my Mom, she wanted to drive around in a tin can for like, ever.

  I tried to get my own car but she wouldn’t hear of that either.

  Heaven forbid.

  She said I had to wait until I officially turned eighteen. Woo! Not. That wouldn’t happen until after I graduated and summer was almost over. I was born in stinking hot August, which makes me a Leo. Grr.

  “Amber, your dinners ready!” Mom called from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Turn it down on low,” I yelled back and then added, “I’ll get it after I shower.”

  “Okay.”

  Dropping my bag of toiletries in the sink, I pushed back the ugly plastic fish-curtain and turned on the shower. It was one of those old timey showers, with a circular rod and a curtain that hung over the top of a claw footed tub. Most of the enamel had come off the outside, so it was brown in spots and looked like I was getting inside the mouth of a dirty monster. I stayed under the warm spray until my frozen limbs got the feeling back in them. This took a while.

 
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