The Twilight Saga Collection part 1(184)
This offended him. “No. I want to help. You can’t pay me.”
“Well...how about a trade, then?” I was making this up as I went, but it seemed reasonable enough. “I only need one bike—and I’ll need lessons, too. So how about this? I’ll give you the other bike, and then you can teach me.”
“Swee-eet.” He made the word into two syllables.
“Wait a sec—are you legal yet? When’s your birthday?”
“You missed it,” he teased, narrowing his eyes in mock resentment. “I’m sixteen.”
“Not that your age ever stopped you before,” I muttered. “Sorry about your birthday.”
“Don’t worry about it. I missed yours. What are you, forty?”
I sniffed. “Close.”
“We’ll have a joint party to make up for it.”
“Sounds like a date.”
His eyes sparkled at the word.
I needed to reign in the enthusiasm before I gave him the wrong idea—it was just that it had been a long time since I’d felt so light and buoyant. The rarity of the feeling made it more difficult to manage.
“Maybe when the bikes are finished—our present to ourselves,” I added.
“Deal. When will you bring them down?”
I bit my lip, embarrassed. “They’re in my truck now,” I admitted.
“Great.” He seemed to mean it.
“Will Billy see if we bring them around?”
He winked at me. “We’ll be sneaky.”
We eased around from the east, sticking to the trees when we were in view of the windows, affecting a casual-looking stroll, just in case. Jacob unloaded the bikes swiftly from the truck bed, wheeling them one by one into the shrubbery where I hid. It looked too easy for him—I’d remembered the bikes being much, much heavier than that.
“These aren’t half bad,” Jacob appraised as we pushed them through the cover of the trees. “This one here will actually be worth something when I’m done—it’s an old Harley Sprint.”
“That one’s yours, then.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“These are going to take some cash, though,” he said, frowning down at the blackened metal. “We’ll have to save up for parts first.”
“We nothing,” I disagreed. “If you’re doing this for free, I’ll pay for the parts.”
“I don’t know...,” he muttered.
“I’ve got some money saved. College fund, you know.” College, schmollege, I thought to myself. It wasn’t like I’d saved up enough to go anywhere special—and besides, I had no desire to leave Forks anyway. What difference would it make if I skimmed a little bit off the top?
Jacob just nodded. This all made perfect sense to him.
As we skulked back to the makeshift garage, I contemplated my luck. Only a teenage boy would agree to this: deceiving both our parents while repairing dangerous vehicles using money meant for my college education. He didn’t see anything wrong with that picture. Jacob was a gift from the gods.
6. FRIENDS
THE MOTORCYCLES DIDN’T NEED TO BE HIDDEN ANY further than simply placing them in Jacob’s shed. Billy’s wheelchair couldn’t maneuver the uneven ground separating it from the house.
Jacob started pulling the first bike—the red one, which was destined for me—to pieces immediately. He opened up the passenger door of the Rabbit so I could sit on the seat instead of the ground. While he worked, Jacob chattered happily, needing only the lightest of nudges from me to keep the conversation rolling. He updated me on the progress of his sophomore year of school, running on about his classes and his two best friends.
“Quil and Embry?” I interrupted. “Those are unusual names.”
Jacob chuckled. “Quil’s is a hand-me-down, and I think Embry got named after a soap opera star. I can’t say anything, though. They fight dirty if you start on their names—they’ll tag team you.”
“Good friends.” I raised one eyebrow.
“No, they are. Just don’t mess with their names.”
Just then a call echoed in the distance. “Jacob?” someone shouted.
“Is that Billy?” I asked.
“No.” Jacob ducked his head, and it looked like he was blushing under his brown skin. “Speak of the devil,” he mumbled, “and the devil shall appear.”
“Jake? Are you out here?” The shouting voice was closer now.
“Yeah!” Jacob shouted back, and sighed.
We waited through the short silence until two tall, dark-skinned boys strolled around the corner into the shed.
One was slender, and almost as tall as Jacob. His black hair was chin-length and parted down the middle, one side tucked behind his left ear while the right side swung free. The shorter boy was more burly. His white T-shirt strained over his well-developed chest, and he seemed gleefully conscious of that fact. His hair was so short it was almost a buzz.