SENSELESS : Jacob Black

31

Against my better judgement, I let Jacob take me out of the house the next day. I suggest we ride his motorcycle, but he says it'll be too loud for my ears. I don't doubt him on that part. Motorcycles still intrigue me. If I end up staying, maybe one day I can convince him to let me ride on it with him.

He told me to pack a bag with my Halloween clothing in it. We are going straight from whatever we are doing to the party. I'm thankful my schedule of working is so intermittent that I don't need to book the day off. I'd like to give my two weeks notice if possible; the boys tell me that's standard behaviour. I know it can't happen though. There is not enough time.

If I started over here, I can start over again.

We pile into the car, he and I, and I put my stuff in the back seat. There are a few towels in there as well.

"Where are we going?" I ask him.

He smiles, "it's a surprise."

The words surprise and secret are indistinguishable to me. I feel my lip pout, and I cross my arms over my chest after we are buckled in. We head off, driving through the winding dirt roads.

He doesn't turn the radio on, which means I expect him to talk to me. I find it really hard to hear with background noise. Still, he doesn't say anything to me. Instead, I watch as his grip around the stick in the middle of the car tightens over ten minutes. His brow tightens. Mostly I watch his eyes. They feel so foreign to me. Even in the light of the car, I can't help but stare at their warm brown hue. Not black. Warmer than the bark of a cedar tree.

"Ask me anything," he tells me. "I can't handle the quiet."

I like the quiet. It feels peaceful and restful. I look at him, watching him, waiting for him to press me further but he doesn't.

He turns away and the question leaks out of my lips, "what does it feel like?"

I don't think I need to specify what I'm talking about. By the way that he sighs, so full that his shoulders and chest deflate, I can tell he understands.

"It feels like you're such a deep part of me that something is wrong when you aren't around," he explains, keeping his eyes on the road. "It feels like I get headaches and nausea when you aren't there. Something fundamentally necessary is gone."

"So, not love," I trail off.

He shakes his head, "no, not love. Love feels different."

"How?" I ask. "Are you in love with me?"

He pauses, rolling down the window. It is a misty rain, one that is sticky and coating rather than drenching. He leans his hand out of the side of the car. I want to know if he feels cold. He isn't human. He's close, but not quite.

Maybe Cedar was right. Maybe I should be afraid.

"The imprint didn't change the way I feel," he points out, then he bites his lip, "well, okay, it did. Just, not in the ways that I thought it would change me. Change us."

"What even is the point of imprinting?" I ask, rolling down my window as well. It's an old car, so I have to crank the window myself. As the window opens, I feel the mist begin to pour in. I feel its cool touch on my face. It's refreshing, water on a hot day. It is warm in the car and I doubt it is just from Jacob's body temperature.

"What's the point?" he asks. "Well, we thought that it was to make a perfect genetic offspring, but Leah imprinted on a woman, so there goes that theory."