The week passed in its usual slow rhythm followed by rain, though for Bella, each day felt stretched by a quiet tension she couldn't shake. Edward Cullen's mystery weighed on her mind more heavily than anything else. His sudden appearances, when he saved her, his strange golden eyes that shifted in color, his family's almost ethereal beauty—none of it made sense.
And then there was Lucas, a handsome boy with long hair tipped with red, a tattoo of the flames on his forehead which he always cover in public to not attract attention and his unique earrings, as if he is the centre of the world, making him even better than Cullen's, but he didn't feel like them to her, he didn't have their pale skin and he always drink tea and eat something at the lunch time unlike Cullen's who didn't even touch their food.
Bella had thought, more than once, of asking him if he knew anything about Edward and the Cullen's as he easily befriended them and is already so close to Rosalie, maybe they should have tell him about themselves when he also saw Edward moving so fast or maybe he didn't press them like her, just as he says to her in hospital"if he wanted to tell you, then he will tell and if he didn't wants to, then don't press it further".
Lucas was easy to talk to—kind, steady, funny and grounded in a way Edward wasn't. But every time she worked up the courage, Rosalie was there always beside him.
Lucas and Rosalie had grown almost inseparable. In the hallways, at lunch, after school—they seemed to move together in a natural rhythm. Bella often saw them sitting close, shoulders brushing, sharing quiet smiles that spoke like they are in there own world. Sometimes Rosalie leaned into him as if she belonged there, and Lucas always welcomed it with the same unshakable warmth and a beautiful smile on his face as he looked at her, never distracting himself with other things.
Their bond was impossible to miss. It was love, plain and simple, though Bella struggled to process it. She had never seen Rosalie look at anyone like that before, even if she had only joined Forks high now, but there are many gossip about her.
And so, whenever the question formed on Bella's lips, it died there. Rosalie's quiet protectiveness for Lucas and Lucas's gentle attention for Rosalie made Bella feel like she was intruding just by thinking about it.
By Friday, the unease in Bella's chest was like a volcano as if it will burst out any time and when her friends invited her to La Push for the weekend, she agreed—partly for a distraction, partly for the chance to breathe away from Forks' familiar tension that she had created for herself, if she had listened to Lucas and didn't prey deep in Edward's matter, than maybe she would be following her normal peaceful life throughout the week and more.
---
The drive out to the coast was filled with Jessica's chatter and Mike's playful teasing. The closer they got, the more the air changed—the scent of salt and pine mixing, the sound of waves crashing against the shore carried in the wind.
The beach at La Push was wild and beautiful. Gray skies stretched endlessly above, the tide rolling in with restless power. Driftwood logs marked the sand where the group settled, spreading blankets, laughing, and tossing food around.
Bella lingered near the water, her boots sinking slightly into the wet sand as she breathed in the salty air. That was when she heard a familiar voice.
"Bella!"
She turned to see Jacob Black approaching, his easy grin brightening the dull afternoon. His long hair was tied back, his presence comfortable, almost like coming home.
"Jacob," she greeted warmly.
They walked back toward the logs together, his energy pulling her out of her quiet mood filled with tension. Soon they were sitting side by side, watching the waves while the others laughed further down the beach.
The conversation started light, playful, Jacob teasing her about her truck and Bella teasing him back about his height. But when the topic of the Cullens came up—brought casually by Mike muttering something about how the "weird family never comes to the beach"—Jacob's tone shifted, though he kept his grin.
"They don't come here," Jacob said, almost casually as if they didn't dare to.
"Why not?" Bella asked, curiosity sharpening immediately when Jacob said it like he know something.
Jacob hesitated just a second before answering. "Old Quileute legends. Stories my dad likes to remind me of."then shrugged.
Bella frowned. "What kind of stories?"and asked, wanted to know more as if forgetting that she comes to the beach for relaxing.
Jacob leaned in slightly, his voice lowering like he was letting her in on a secret. "The kind where my ancestors were sworn enemies of the Cullens' kind. We call them… the cold ones."
Bella blinked, the words sinking into her mind with strange weight. "Cold ones?" she said softly while repeating the same thing in her mind.
Jacob nodded "Just old stories. My tribe says they're not like us… different. Dangerous. That's why the Cullens don't come here—it's part of the treaty." said while smirking a little, though his eyes carried a seriousness that betrayed the humor in his voice.
The treaty. The word lodged in Bella's mind like a hook.
Jacob leaned back, brushing it off with another grin. "Don't let it scare you, Bella. They're just stories, like the ones you hear around a campfire."
Bella forced a small smile, but inside, her thoughts raced. Cold ones. A treaty. The Cullens. None of it felt like just a story.
---
That night, Bella lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling as if almost solving the mystery. Jacob's words repeated themselves again and again in her mind."Cold ones. Treaty".
Could that explain what she'd seen? Edward's impossible speed, his unnatural beauty, his strange eyes? A chill settled over her, but so did an undeniable sense of curiosity. She wanted answers—desperately.
And for a brief moment, she thought of Lucas again. If anyone would know, maybe he did. But Rosalie was always with him. Always watching. Always protective. The thought of asking him seemed almost impossible now.
.
.
.