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."

"Seriously," I say, folding my arms over my chest. "It just gets in the way of everything."

"Fawn," he manages, but he doesn't finish his sentence. He takes in a deep breath. "You're right."

"Really?" I almost laugh. "I thought you'd defend it."

"I'm the one who avoided seeing you for nearly two months to ensure I wouldn't imprint," he glances at me, a smile on his face. "Here we are."

"Yeah," I agree. Something has changed between Jacob and me, and it's freaking me out. He clearly has feelings for me now, but did he before? What part of this is in his control? What part is in mine?

Out of the window, I see the beach passing us by. We keep heading up until we are pulling up into a parking lot near the cliffside.

"Isn't it a little cold for a swim?" I ask.

He smiles, "I forgot that you could feel the cold."

Jacob gets out of the car and comes around to my side. He opens the door for me and then goes into the back seat to grab towels. We walk up the trail, towards the place I jumped with Quil and Embry, and then we keep walking.

"Where are we going?" I ask. "Not all the way up?"

"Just another ten feet," he explains, holding a tree branch out of the way of my face. I duck underneath it and walk in front of him.

We get to the clearing, leading up to the edge. Now that we are deep into autumn, most of the trees are red and orange. The pine trees are the only things left untouched. I feel warmed by a blanket of leaves.

"Why did you bring me here?" I ask, "you want me to watch you jump?"

He exhales sharply, "you're going to jump."

I laugh, running a hand through my hair. The wind keeps blowing it in my face. There are grey clouds above, but if I'm going to leap, it doesn't matter if I get wet beforehand.

"I should probably put my hearing aid in the car then," I shove my hands deep in my pockets, trying not to let the excitement burst from within me.

As we walk back, I keep glancing at Jacob. The entire time I look, he is staring at me. He cannot seem to help it.

"What do you see when you see me?" I ask.

"I see your blonde hair, which Alice had mentioned before I even met you, and I see your dainty little nose. I see your green eyes, which remind me of the forest, and the little scar on your lip. I see everything, Fawn," he stops walking. He takes my hand and presses it against his chest. "Everything."

When I look at him, what do I see? Of course, I see his eyes, but they are so new to me. Otherwise, I see his russet skin and jet black hair. I can make out features, but I have no history to accompany them. No stories. Then again, I don't have any about myself.

"Why did you bring me here?" my hand still rests against his chest. I let it warm me as if I am roasting at a fire.

"I know you love the thrill of jumping," he says. "I know more about you than you expect, and that's not the imprint talking."

The question seeps out of my lips, like juicy fruit. It is sweet, messy, "what else do you know about me?"

"I know you like drinking, even if it sours your stomach," he chuckles. "You get bored so easily, so you always have to do something. You like the diner because it keeps you on your toes but you hate the smell. You always have to shower right after work. And you don't know much about our world. You may have heard of karaoke, but you've never heard of monopoly. You also, love the outdoors. If one thing keeps you occupied, it's standing in the rain outside. I've heard you sneak out late at night to do it. I'd recognize your footsteps anywhere."

I wish I could reciprocate, but I don't know that much about Jacob. I know a version of him that was fake, created, manufactured.

He knows my heart and I only know our shadows.

I get to the car and Jacob unlocks it. I don't hear the click of the car doors. Everything is limited without my other hearing aid. He puts his shirt in the car. I take off my jacket, with my cell phone and hearing aid inside, and fold them in the backseat. The world cuts out. The sound of the leaves rustling as the wind rolls through them disappears. No more birds chirp. Everything is quiet.

We walk back up the path. I watch Jacob moving in front of me. We eventually reach the cliffside, and he looks at me. He takes my hand and squeezes it once before turning around and leaping off the cliff. I watch him disappear from my view. He plummets down, and the water splashes up around him. I wait for him to surface, for him to pop up, but he doesn't come.

I lean over the edge and call out his name. It makes my throat hurt. I can hear the hum of a sound, but not the words, not the loudness, not the rawness of my own throat. I call his name again.

He surfaces. I see the black tip of his hair, and then his face, but I am so high up it's hard to make out details. He waves at me, gestures for me to join him.

So I do.

I soar through the air, careful to aim far enough away from him. I shoot down through the air, and my stomach spins inside me. I hit the water at an awkward angle, making my calves sting. The water makes a wall around me, and then I'm inside its depths. The wool sweater drags me down, heavy. I've grown so much weaker in the time I've been here. Hands grip on me, pulling me up before I even have begun to struggle. I hit the surface, and the air is the best breath I've felt in my life. The most relieving.

He doesn't speak to me. Instead, he smiles and helps me swim over towards the shore. We get out, and I take off my sweater, ringing it out. He averts his eyes, out of politeness for the fact that I'm only wearing a sports bra. Although, I do catch him glancing over. We make the trudge up to the parking lot.

He takes my hand. I'm not sure I want him to hold it, but I let him hold it anyway.

~~~~~

I know there is a substantial amount of Jacob in this chapter, but it's to make up for how much he lacks in the last chapter. This whole thing is so sweet it's giving me a toothache. He's got a sudden change in heart.

Should Fawn trust him? Do you?