︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
WHILE DRYING HERSELF OFF BAILEY looked at her reflection in the mirror and noticed a red mark on her hip. She examined it closely. She must've gotten it when she fell. It looked like it was going to bruise but it didn't hurt. Bailey then studied her hands, her bandages were wet now, so they were useless. She peeled them off and looked at her palms. It didn't hurt anymore. She opened and closed her hand. Yeah, she was fine. She tossed her bandages in the trash and picked up the clothes Paul had set by the door for her.
She unfolded them. First was a black t-shirt. She pulled it over her head, slipped her arms through the arm holes and stared at her reflection again. She inhaled through her nose, grabbing hold of the front of the shirt by the caller. It had the faint scent of some popular laundry detergent brand and Paul. She smelled it, cheeks reddening—it smelled really nice.
Next was the underwear; boxer shorts. They still smelled like their packaging and she determined that they hadn't been worn before, and were likely brand new. She pulled them on; they were too big so she had to roll them a bit so they wouldn't slip off.
Bailey looked at her reflection again. It looked like she was wearing nothing but a shirt. The boxer shorts reached her mid-thigh, but the shirt was nearly at her knees. She looked over at the final item, a pair of jogging pants. Bailey grimaced, she didn't like the feeling of the material the pants were made of and so she didn't wear them. Instead, she picked it up in her hands and while still drying her hair walked out of the bathroom.
Once she finished drying her hair she tossed the towel into a hamper she came across in the hallway. It looked like Paul must've gone downstairs, the second floor sounded empty. There were four rooms on the second floor. The first was the bathroom, then there was a closet/storage space, followed by two bedrooms. The first bedroom's door was wide open. It was tidy, with a few sports posters hanging on the wood walls that weren't painted. The bed was located on the left side of the room, headboard against the wall. It'd been made nicely, with a beautiful embroidered quilt sprawled over it. On the other side of the room were the windows, they overlooked a few other houses and then the woods, further in the distance the mountains were visible. At the foot of the windows was a long, cushioned bench made of what looked to be dark cedar wood.
Bailey knew it was Paul's room because of the single pair of jean shorts that were lying on the bench, as well as the opened closet. He must have changed his clothes too. She folded the pants she hadn't used and placed them next to the shorts before walking out.
The final room, what was probably the master bedroom, was out of sight. It was at the end of the hall, the lights were shut and the door was closed. Bailey stared at it curiously but decided to go downstairs to meet up with Paul. As she descended she could hear and smell food being cooked. Bailey felt her stomach growl—she hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast and she was hungry.
She followed the smell of food to the kitchen and saw Paul. He had his back to her as he stood over the stove. He was now wearing grey sweatpants, and a fresh t-shirt unlike before.
"What are you making?" Bailey asked him.
"Nothing really, just heating up some leftovers from yesterday," Paul explained. He looked over his shoulder at her. His eyes widened slightly. He stared at her face, then gradually his eyes trailed down to her legs where they lingered for a while before he slapped himself in the face again.
Bailey stared at him. That was strange...
"What is it? It smells good," she said approaching.
"I've been into Asian cuisine recently so it's jeera rice, chicken tikka masala, raita, with some naan that's heating up."
Bailey stood beside him, looking at the dishes that were heating up. She pressed her lips together wary. "I've never had Indian food before," she admitted.
"Wait, seriously?" Paul looked down at her.
"Is it as good as it smells?" she questioned.
"The fact that you don't know is the saddest thing I've ever heard," Paul joked. "Sit down, and in a couple of minutes you'll get a taste of heaven."
Bailey stared at him. He seemed confident that she'd like it so she backed away and went to take a seat in the dining area. There wasn't a separation between the kitchen and the dining room. The kitchen just kind of stopped at a certain point and then there was a table, lined with four chairs on their side for the dining area.
She sat down and waited for him to finish. She watched Paul. She knew that he knew how to cook but she didn't think that he was the type to experiment with his cooking. He said he was recently "into" Asian cuisine. How many other cultural foods did he know how to make?
"Done!" Paul rubbed his hands together after a few minutes passed.
Bailey sat up. He grabbed some plates for them and served the food before sitting across from her. Bailey grabbed hold of her spoon and picked up some rice and chicken. She noticed Paul staring at her, waiting for her to taste it. She placed the spoonful of food in her mouth and chewed.
Her eyes brightened. "Mmm," she sounded and Paul grinned.
It was really good that Bailey found herself scarfing down like a starved animal. The only thing she didn't like as much was the raita but other than that everything was perfect. While they were eating Bailey brought up something important.
"Could I get a blood sample from you?" she asked, before tearing off a piece of naan bread.
Paul looked at her. "...What?"
"I have a theory on which chemicals in your brain trigger your wolf transformation but I want to make sure there aren't other foreign chemicals in your body. Blood tests aren't entirely accurate for identifying them in your brain but I'll still be able to get a rough idea."
"Uh-huh." Paul picked at his food. He tried to find the right way to say this. "So, Bailey, what exactly are we?"
"What do you mean?" she asked absent-mindedly, still focused on eating.
"How would you describe our ... relationship?" he wondered. He still wasn't sure what was going on in that head of hers, he couldn't exactly rely on "signs" or "signals" Bailey didn't do that. But there were moments, a few times where he thought that maybe—just maybe she felt something for him.
Bailey shrugged her shoulders. "Friends I suppose. Most of the time it sort of feels similar to how things were with Jasper."
Paul clenched his utensil. He was really getting sick of hearing that name.
"How so?" he said through his teeth.
"Well, I like being alone more than I like being with other people. But that's not the case with either of you. I didn't mind being with Jasper and I don't mind being with you."
He frowned and was silent while they finished eating. Once they were done Bailey placed her dirty dishes in the sink and moved the curtains of the kitchen window to look outside. It was raining really hard now, the lack of visibility was so atrocious she probably wouldn't be getting home for a while.
"I'm going to call Bella," Bailey said to Paul who was still sitting at the table silently. "She might think that I died or something so I should clear up any worries. Where did you put my phone?"
Her phone had been in the pocket of her jacket (the only part of her clothes that hadn't gotten too wet). Paul pointed down the hall and Bailey left.
It was then when she entered the laundry room and spotted her phone sitting beside a box of detergent that she noticed how quiet he was being. Had something happened? Did she do something wrong? She furrowed her eyebrows. He would tell her if she did something wrong, wouldn't he? He wouldn't keep it to himself, right?
Bailey shifted through her contacts and called Bella's number. She explained the situation to her sister, not mentioning Paul because it wasn't her business. She told her that she should be home by the time the rain cooled off a bit.
"The weather says it's gonna rain this hard all night," Bella told her.
"Oh. Then I guess I'm spending the night," Bailey said.
"And you're seriously not going to tell me where you are?" Bella asked. "What am I supposed to tell Charlie?"
"I'm at a friend's house."
"What friend?"
"A friend."
"Bailey!"
"Bye."
She hung up on Bella. She shut her phone and walked out of the laundry room back to the kitchen but Paul wasn't there. Why did he keep disappearing these days? She exhaled and walked back into the hall. She looked into the living room. Paul wasn't there either. Had he gone back upstairs?
Bailey made her way back to the second floor. This time the door to Paul's room was slightly closed and not wide open like before. She pushed it open gently and stepped into the room, she saw him sitting on his bench looking out the window at the rain.
"Did I do something?" she asked him.
Paul turned to her. The look in his eye told her enough... she had done something. But she just wasn't sure what it was.
Bailey groaned and rubbed her face. "You have to tell me when I do things you don't like. Please? I don't... you can't just go quiet. I don't get it, okay? I can't pick up on it and then I just start spiralling with various things that I might've done to hurt or offend you."
Paul stood up and walked toward her. "You want me to tell you?"
"Yes." She nodded.
"I'm confused, Angel."
She felt her face warm at the nickname. Her eyes looked away from him, instead staring at the pouring rain.
"Well, what are you confused about? Is it homework? I can help you with that." She looked back at him, a bit startled when she saw how he was staring at her. Something felt different but she wasn't sure what it was. His eyes had darkened but not with anger... with something else.
"You said you never wanted me to leave you," his voice was low, deep. He spoke so smoothly, so calmly that it made Bailey shiver. "If that's true, why did you compare me to him?"
"To who?"
"The leech."
"Jasper?" Bailey questioned. She saw Paul clench his jaw. "You both play a similar role in my life I thought—"
"Similar role?" Paul scoffed gently. "Did you feel the same way about him when he left you?"
Bailey blinked, she backed away as Paul started getting extremely close. "W-Well, no not exactly. I was still a bit hurt but it wasn't the same. I already told you, you're different."
"Different how?" He asked, with each step forward he took Bailey took one step back until she bumped into the door. It had shut behind her without her even noticing—she was trapped.
"I-I don't know."
"Am I just a part of your routine?" He asked her. He was towering over her now. "Am I just some lab rat to you?"
"Lab rat?"
"It's all you talk about, your experiments... is that all I am to you? A new scientific discovery?"
Bailey's eyes drifted. She didn't know what to say to that. She didn't know how to answer. He was asking some compelling questions. Honestly, she was fascinated by his wolfiness, by his abilities. Of course, she wanted to know more about it. But it was more than that it was—"It's how I get to know you I guess," she explained.
Paul raised an eyebrow.
"I could have just used Jacob or Sam or whomever but I didn't. I, well, I suppose I want to get to know you. Understand you on a molecular level."
He placed his hand against the door directly above her head, while Bailey was still pinned. Her eyes rounded, and she looked back up at him.
"What about on an emotional level? A physical level?"
Bailey gulped as her heart raced.
Paul lowered himself closer to her level. Bringing his head next to hers he whispered in her ear, "Do I make you nervous?"
Bailey blushed. She held her hands up, in an attempt to keep some distance between them. Her hands were just placed firmly against his chest, it didn't matter if she tried to push him back a bit, she couldn't move him—he was too gigantic and too strong.
She looked down, her hair blocking her face as she stared at the ground. "How would you have me do it?" she asked.
"Hm?"
She glanced up at him. "How do you want me to get closer to you on an emotional and physical level? Do you—do you want to examine me in exchange? Would that make you feel better?"
It was Paul's turn to blush. He quickly backed away from her and slapped himself in the face again, slapping the thoughts from his brain at the same time. He needed to calm down, he knew that she didn't mean it that way and yet...
Bailey stepped forward. She took his hand and placed it against her cheek. Paul's eyes widened significantly at her actions.
"What are you—"
"Twenty seconds," said Bailey. "That's the longest I can last when someone touches my face. Overall, for the rest of my body, it depends on the day, time, and atmosphere like the temperature or material—it's usually around thirty-five. But my face is always twenty seconds until you..."
She shut her eyes, holding his hand to her cheek. Twenty seconds passed, then thirty, forty, fifty, sixty and Bailey dropped his hand.
Paul was gazing at her deeply, parting his lips ever so slightly.
"You had your forehead against mine for about that long, the longest I've gone with someone touching my face. You're different. I'm sorry I don't have a word for it, a label. I don't know. I don't know what it is, why that is. I can't explain it. I'm sorry," said Bailey regretfully, she didn't like that she was making him feel this way.
"Thirty-five seconds you said?" Paul asked.
Bailey nodded and a split second later Paul wrapped his arms around her. She jumped silently, it had come out of the blue. She felt her body being overtaken by his warmth. Her eyes glanced at him, he had his head resting on her shoulder—she could feel his heart beating in his chest, could hear him breathing in and out.
"Do you honestly like being around me? Even after today?" he asked. Bailey wasn't sure if it was meant for her, it sounded as though he were just thinking out loud.
She slowly raised her hands, hesitating for a moment, before she laid them on his back.
"Yes. I do."
⍣ ೋ
Bella was right. The rain continued just as powerfully into the night which meant that Bailey slept over at Paul's house. She didn't think much of it as she lay on the couch reading a book she'd found in the house. It was a cookbook, an extremely old and worn-out cookbook that she guessed Paul used frequently.
"Why are you reading that?" Paul asked when he came to give her some extra pillows and warm blankets. He had offered her his bedroom but Bailey refused, citing that it was his house so he should get to sleep in his own bed. No matter how hard Paul tried she refused him.
"It's the first thing I found," Bailey replied, eyes looking at all the recipes. They looked simple enough.
"No, I mean," Paul set down the blankets and pillow. He picked up the t.v remote that just sitting on the armrest. "Why aren't you just watching TV?"
Bailey looked up from the pages, as Paul sat down on the ground and flipped through the channels.
"I don't normally watch TV" she explained.
"Who doesn't watch TV?" Paul was in disbelief.
"I just told you, I don't." Bailey huffed. She watched as Paul finally decided on a channel where the people and the characters were singing. Bailey looked at the screen bewildered.
"Why are they singing?"
"It's a musical. Don't tell me you don't like musicals?"
Bailey tore away from the screen and looked back at the cookbook. "Don't tell me you do like musicals."
"Hey," Paul chirped. "The Sound Of Music is a classic, okay? And Julie Andrews is a national treasure."
He turned, outraged when he saw Bailey reading a cookbook instead of watching the movie. He plucked the book from her hands, which caused her to sit up. She stared at him, just as Paul took a seat on the couch and just tossed the cookbook aside.
"Hey—" Bailey was made to stop talking when Paul placed a finger against her lips. She glanced up at him. He was doing it yet again, being rather annoying.
"Shush," he grinned at her, very much aware that she was irritated, "Julie's singing."
Bailey pushed his finger away and crossed her arms. She leaned back on the couch watching the musical with him. During this time Bailey learned a few things. The first was that she didn't like children very much, the second was that she didn't like musicals very much and the third—well, that was that Paul cried while watching movies even if he wouldn't admit it. Out of the corner of her eye, she'd seen it herself. It wasn't even a sad scene, it was just a dance at a party and he was teary-eyed.
"Just look at that chemistry, so beautiful." He shook his head.
Finally, the movie ended with a twist Bailey hadn't seen coming... nazis. They had been sprinkled around throughout the story but that ending had certainly come out of, seemingly, nowhere. She looked at Paul who seemed melancholic. He was smiling but there were still tears in his eyes, and this time it wasn't because a scene was "so beautiful."
"What's wrong?" she asked him.
"That was my mom's favourite movie," he confessed.
That information scared Bailey a bit. She felt bad for not liking the movie, it seemed already obvious but Bailey just wasn't one for movies or shows in general. Would his mother take offence to that? Wait, where was his mother? Who was she?
"That's what's missing..." she muttered. Paul looked at her. "Sorry, it's just early I noticed something off about your house. There aren't any pictures anywhere. No family picture, no baby pictures, non of your mom or dad, or you."
Paul nodded. "Yeah."
"Why—" she caught herself. "That's a personal question. I should ask if you're uncomfortable talking about this first."
Paul sighed. "It's not my favourite topic in the world, but since you so clearly stated that the two of us are stuck with each other, I guess I should tell you about it eventually."
Bailey crossed her legs and turned to face him on the couch.
"You may have noticed that we're the only ones here tonight. That's sort of the norm for me. My mom and dad got divorced when I was around seven or eight years old and my dad got full custody." He told her.
"Do you see your mom often?"
Paul grimaced and Bailey regretted asking her question. "No, the last time I saw her was just after the trial. My dad, well, he's kind of an ass. He, uh, he got custody of me by claiming that my mom was mentally unfit. The last years of their marriage were hell, to the point that my mom got clinically diagnosed with depression. My dad used that against her even though he was partially to blame for why she was so low mentally in the first place. What's hilarious is that he doesn't care what happens to me, I've basically been on my own ever since then. He's rarely ever home—he travels a lot for his job and just sends checks for groceries while paying for the house he's never in."
"I'm sorry."
Paul shook his head. "It's been years, I'm over it. My mom sends stuff sometimes for my birthday and Christmas but even that's getting less frequent. I think she might have met someone else and just wants to leave her past in the past. I can't blame her for that honestly."
It was silent between them until Paul chuckled, "Well, that took a depressing turn."
"Are you ever lonely?" Bailey asked him, softly.
He didn't answer.
She looked him over trying to get a read on his body language, trying to understand what he might be feeling at this moment. Bailey prepared her next words. "If you promise not to leave me, I'll promise not to leave you—" she paused, "no matter how annoying you get."
Paul looked at her and smile gently. "Sure," he said quietly. "And if I say 'thirty-five seconds' that means I want to embrace you."
"What?" Bailey blinked rapidly, flustered.
He smirked. "The best way to combat loneliness is human interaction, don't you think?"
Bailey nodded. She couldn't fight against that logic.
"Fine," she nodded. "But if I say, uh, 'truth' then you have to say what's on your mind. No more hiding things away from me. I don't care what it is."
"Everything?" Paul looked slightly nervous.
"Yes, those are my conditions."
"Okay, okay. Let's shake on it," he held out his hand. Bailey reached for it and the second they interlocked Paul quickly blurted out, "Thirty-five seconds" and pulled Bailey towards him. She yelped, crashing into his chest (not very hard) and he bear-hugged her.
She covered her face as she was red to her ears. She didn't hate it though, it was nice, like a weighted blanket.
⍣ ೋ
Spring break officially began on Monday. By now there was a sort of new routine that Bailey had fallen into. La Push was a frequent destination for her and Bella, on wolf territory they were protected. Sunday had mostly been spent at the beach as Charlie hung out with Billy at the Blacks' house. Jacob had other things to do so Bailey and Bella had gone to the beach alone. Bella was still trying to get some information out of Bailey. She was almost certain that Bailey had gone to Paul's house, which worried her. The only impression she had of Paul was his outburst and that seemed like a very bad mix for Bailey. What could they possibly have in common to be friends? When did they meet? And most importantly, what had they done that rainy night?
"At least tell me this, what did you do that night?" Bella had taken a seat next to Bailey in the sand as they waited for Jacob.
Bailey had her nose deep in yet another science book. With the pack being so busy the only wolf she saw these days was Jacob. Jacob was her friend but his insistent pining over Bella and their bizarre intimate moments that had an overcloud of insincerity on Bella's part were very uncomfortable. She always chose to keep a bit of a distance from the two of them when they were all together.
Her gaze followed the lines on the page as she spoke, "Why do you want to know so badly?"
"Because you spent the night at a boy's house! A boy I barely know!"
"Don't you think I'm a good judge of character?"
Bella frowned. Bailey was dodging the question yet again. Why was she being so secretive about this? "That's not the point... Look, if this Paul guy—"
"I never said I was with Paul."
"I may not be as smart as you, Bailey, but I'm not that stupid either."
Bailey opened her mouth but stopped.
"I just think you should be careful who you're willing to, y'know," Bella struggled. "I mean don't you think he's kind of danger—"
"If you value your feelings you won't finish that sentence," said Bailey before flipping to the next page of her book.
Jacob dropped in to check on them not too long afterwards and so their conversation was put on hold yet again. He apologized for ditching them so much. He explained that his schedule wasn't always this crazy, but until Victoria was stopped, the wolves were on red alert.
Bella and Jacob walked along the beach. Bailey glanced up from her book to catch a glimpse of them holding hands—there was that cloud again hovering over Bella. While admittedly uncomfortable, Bailey was also proud of herself for being able to spot it... it proved she was getting much better at identifying these things, unspoken things. That—or maybe Bella just wasn't very good at hiding her emotions these days.
On Tuesday afternoon Bailey, who normally would have spent the day home alone (with Bella and Charlie both at work) was taken to Emily's instead because it was safer. Bella had been followed to work by Jacob on his bike (for her own protection).
Bailey and Emily didn't talk much, not after the awkwardness with Sam. Good, Bailey thought. She was able to focus on more important things—college essays. But these weren't her own college essays, no, Bailey was writing them for other people. Students in her class. At first, she wasn't too keen on the idea. But they kept pestering her until she regrettably caved in.
Part of her wanted to write bad essays just out of spite of her classmates' tactics but unfortunately, Bailey was physically incapable of turning in any academic work that wasn't undoubtedly flawless.
That night, Sam and Emily joined the Swans for dessert at Billy's house. Emily brought a cake that would have won over a harder man than Charlie. There was a naturally flowing conversation through a range of casual subjects. Bella and Jacob exited early and went to the garage for some privacy. Bailey went out to the front porch for some silence, stargazing as she heard soothing howls in the distance.
The next morning Bailey was awoken early by the sound of shuffling. Charlie was always still asleep at this hour so she knew it wasn't him. She came down from the attic to find Bella sneaking a change of clothes out to the truck.
"What are you doing?" she questioned her elder sister.
When Bella turned there was something lifeless in her eyes but just as quickly as it appeared it was gone with an arbitrary smile. "Sorry," she said nonchalantly. "I, uh, was going down to see Jake."
"Okay, I'll go with you." Bailey turned and returned to the house to change her own clothes.
The car ride was silent but Bailey felt something different, one of those hunches. She hated that feeling, an otherwordly sensation with no rhyme or reason but that indicated to her that something was wrong. She knew, somehow, that something was Bella.
Jacob didn't meet them out front, the way he usually did when their noisy truck announced their arrival; he was probably still sleeping.
A thick layer of clouds pressed heavily on the atmosphere, making it sultry; it was warm and close under the gray blanket. Bella left her sweater in the truck as they walked quietly to the door.
"C'mon in, girls," Billy said.
He was at the kitchen table, eating cold cereal.
"Jake sleeping?" Bella asked.
"Er, no." He set his spoon down, and his eyebrows pulled together.
"What happened?" Bella demanded. She could tell from his expression that something had.
"Embry, Jared, and Paul crossed the fresh trail early this morning. Sam and Jake took off to help. Sam was hopeful—she's hedged herself in beside the mountains. He thinks they have a good chance to finish this."
Bailey didn't realize she had stopped moving completely until she heard Bella say, "Oh, no, Billy. Oh, no."
Billy chuckled, deep and low. "Do you really like La Push so well that you want to extend your sentence here?"
"Don't make jokes, Billy. This is too scary for that," Bella admitted.
"How dangerous is it? I know they're literally built for it but how... just how dangerous," Bailey's voice trailed off a bit as she looked away from them.
"It's not as dangerous for them as you think it is. Sam knows what he's doing. You girls are the ones who should be worried about yourselves. The vampire doesn't want to fight them. She's just trying to find a way around them... to you."
"How does Sam know what he's doing?" Bailey's eyes narrowed a bit. Sam had bad judgment before. "They've only killed one vampire, that's not a lot of experience."
"We take what we do very seriously, Bailey. Nothing's been forgotten. Everything they need to know has been passed down from father to son for generations."
Bailey nodded, temporarily satisfied.
Billy went back to his breakfast; Bella sat down on the sofa and flipped aimlessly through the TV channels. Bailey glanced down at her phone staring at his contact before she put it away. He was busy, she knew this and she also knew that he needed to be fully concentrated on the task at hand, with no distractions. She walked out to the porch and swapped her phone out for her book. She read in silence for a few minutes before Bella walked out of the front door.
"I'll be at the beach," she told Bailey abruptly.
Bailey nodded, glancing up briefly to watch Bella walk in the direction of the beach before she continued to read, ignoring the feeling she felt. There was no basis for it, no facts or reason for it. So out of pure spite, she was going to ignore it.
The silence outside was comforting. There weren't any animals—no birds, no squirrels. It was perfect as the clouds blocked out any of the sun's blinding rays.
More minutes passed and Bailey couldn't shake away her feeling—instead, it became more intense. Bailey shut her book suddenly and got to her feet. No rhyme or reason, she thought as she hurried toward the beach. This is highly illogical.
Bailey stopped suddenly when there was a sharp pain in her stomach. Nothing had hit her and it wasn't as if she'd eaten something bad. No this was a psychological pain, a warning. She held onto her stomach and turned to her left. There she saw an enormous russet wolf, Jacob's wolf. He looked at her in acknowledgement but also perhaps wondering what she was doing wandering around in the middle of the woods.
"Bella went down to the beach," Bailey said and pointed toward the direction she was going.
Jacob's wolf approached her, going down close to the ground next to her as if he wanted her to get onto his back. Bailey climbed up and fisted a good amount of his fur as grip and Jacob took off toward the beach. Not nearly the same speed as he would if he were chasing a vampire but just as fast if not a bit faster than the sisters' old truck.
The beach was empty when they got there which didn't make any sense. Bailey's feet hit the ground after sliding off Jacob's back and her eyes searched for any sign of Bella. Jacob disappeared into the trees to change back into his human form. He reappeared not too long after now wearing dark cargo shorts.
"I thought you said Bella would be here?" Jacob said as he rejoined Bailey.
Bailey rubbed her stomach, her eyes searching a bit more desperately now.
"Bailey?" Jacob had noticed. "What's wrong?"
"There's no rhyme or reason..." she muttered. Her heart was beating a bit fast now, as her anxiety levels rose. "Jacob, I have a bad feeling."
"What? Why—"
"I don't know," she admitted. "Something's just not right. I can't explain it, I don't know how."
"Okay, okay." Jacob nodded though her answer had definitely left him dissatisfied. He looked around with Bailey and with his heightened senses it was probably going to be a lot easier to find her.
Jacob inhaled deeply through his nose just as a strong gust of wind hit them. "That's Bella's scent," he said. He marched forward looking for the direction in which the scent had come from. Bailey followed after him until he stopped unexpectedly.
"What? Jacob, what is it?"
He was staring at something ahead, toward the cliffs. Bailey followed his gaze. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary at first until she spotted something at one of the cliff's edges directly above the violently crashing waves. It was a figure, she squinted her eyes to try and get a clearer image... it was a person.
"Bella..." Jacob muttered.
He and Bailey could only watch from their distance as Bella raised her arms straight out as if she were going to dive. She leaned forward, crouching to get more of a spring... and flung herself off the cliff.
Bailey froze, the silence of the day had been shattered by Bella's screams as she dropped through the open air like a meteor. Whether it was a scream of exhilaration or fear Bailey couldn't tell the difference as she watched her sister's body fall before slicing through the surface of the water.
"BELLA!" Jacob was sprinting forward already toward the water.
Bailey's breathing became rigid—Bella had just jumped off a cliff—she was shaking as her mind attempted to process what she'd just witnessed. She could feel her bodily control slipping away as she began to hyperventilate—Bella hadn't come back to the surface yet. Her eyes watered, and she looked around frantically. She's... she's... Her hands rose to her ears. Bailey shook her head. This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening. Bella was... she was...
Hot tears were falling from her eyes, and while trembling she balled her fists on either side of her head. The response was almost immediate.
Not much time had passed between Bailey's initial reaction and Jacob's sprinting for the water. Just as his feet were fully submerged he heard the most bone-chilling, blood-curling screams coming from behind him. Jacob spun around quickly and saw Bailey thrashing around, screeching and hitting herself repeatedly as tears ran down her cheek. His eyes widened as he watched her. He'd never seen her act that way before. But she couldn't be a priority right now, not when Bella was potentially drowning. Jacob turned away, chills ran over his body as he continued to hear Bailey's screams before he dove into the water for Bella.
An overall feeling of aggressive hysteria had overcome Bailey. She couldn't stop herself, it was uncontrollable at this point. Her head was imploding and nothing was working. Not her body, not her words; she was trapped. She wanted it to end, she wanted it to stop. But she couldn't do anything. It hurt too badly, her throat was going hoarse but she couldn't stop yelling. Her head was hurting but she wouldn't stop hitting herself with her fists. There was no ground below and no sky above. She was trapped in this void of terror, desperation and fear. She was nowhere and yet everything was so amplified—the sound of the wind rustling the trees, the crashing of the waves, even her heart beating in her chest. It was too much... too much... Please... make it stop. Please! A small part of her mind tried to rationalize. But she couldn't.
Suddenly she was covered in warmth, and a deep pressure pulled her limbs close together, encasing her, compressing her. Bailey focused on it, on the feeling. Slowly she felt the ground beneath her feet again, slowly she felt the slight twinge of control—"Tighter," she managed to squeak out.
Paul hugged her tighter.
She continued to cry as she stared out at the ocean waiting for any sign of Jacob and Bella. Then she saw them. Jacob was pulling Bella toward land, but she wasn't moving, she was unconscious. She only saw it momentarily before Paul quickly spun her around blocking her view from something so distressing.
"She's going to be fine," he whispered, trying to console her.
But it didn't work when Bailey could also hear Jacob. "Breathe!" he ordered, his voice wild with anxiety.
The tears were coming just as aggressively as before as Bailey's limps fought against Paul's grip. He held her still, held her tightly and refused to let go no matter how hard she thrashed around.
"Breathe, Bella! C'mon!" Jacob begged.
Bailey's cries were getting louder and louder. Each passing moment was filled with everlasting anguish.
"Bella?" Jacob asked, his voice still tense, but not as wild as before. "Bells, honey, can you hear me?"
"How long has she been unconscious?" someone else asked.
"I don't know," Jacob reported, still frantic. "A few minutes? It didn't take long to tow her to the beach."
"She's breathing. She'll come around. We should get her out of the cold, though. I don't like the colour she's turning..." The other voice, the voice that didn't belong to Paul or Jacob. It was Sam Uley. "Paul, get Bailey out of here. She's seen enough."
Paul looked down at Bailey, who was red in her face with how long this had been going on. He didn't know if it was best to move her just yet. What if his grip loosened? What if even the smallest movement triggered a bigger response? This current state seemed to be working, she wasn't screaming as badly as before.
"Jake?" came a weak croak. It was Bella. She was awake.