𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 𝘍𝘐𝘝𝘌

(the cursed witch, act two)

"ARE YOU DOING OKAY?" Mike asked, his eyes focused on her. Nina wondered how long he had been watching her without her noticing.

"I'm fine," She answered, taking her eyes off of the register.

"Jess told me about last night... That was really stupid. You could have gotten hurt."

Nina nodded. "I know. Sorry. I just... I haven't really been conscious lately."

Mike glanced at the register. She had counted it six times in the last hour. "Yeah. I can see that. Why don't you take off?"

It was a slow afternoon at Newton's. At the moment, there were only two patrons in the store, dedicated backpackers from the sound of their conversation. Mike had spent the last hour going through the pros and cons of two brands of lightweight packs with them. But they'd taken a break from serious pricing to indulge in trying to one-up each other with their latest tales from the trail. Their distraction had given Mike a chance to escape.

"I don't mind staying," Nina said. She still hadn't been able to sink back into her protective shell of numbness, and everything seemed oddly close and loud today, like she'd taken cotton out of her ears. She tried to tune out the laughing hikers without success.

"I'm telling you," Said the thickset man with the orange beard that didn't match his dark brown hair. "I've seen grizzlies pretty close up in Yellowstone, but they had nothing on this brute." His hair was matted, and his clothes looked like they'd been on his back for more than a few days. Fresh from the mountains.

"Not a chance. Black bears don't get that big. The grizzlies you saw were probably cubs." The second man was tall and lean, his face tanned and wind-whipped into an impressive leathery crust.

"Seriously, Neens, as soon as these two give up, I'm closing the place down," Mike murmured.

"If you want me to go..." She shrugged. She didn't want to. Working with Mike was a good distraction.

"On all fours it was taller than you," The bearded man insisted while Nina gathered her things together. "Big as a house and pitch-black. I'm going to report it to the ranger here. People ought to be warned—this wasn't up on the mountain, mind you—this was only a few miles from the trailhead."

Leather-face laughed and rolled his eyes. "Let me guess—you were on your way in? Hadn't eaten actual food or slept off the ground in a week, right?"

"Hey, uh, Mike, right?" The bearded man called, looking toward them.

"See you Monday," Nina mumbled.

"Yes, sir," Mike replied, turning away.

"Say, have there been any warnings around here recently—about black bears?"

"No, sir. But it's always good to keep your distance and store your food correctly. Have you seen the new bear-safe canisters? They only weigh two pounds..." The doors slid open to let Nina out into the rain.

She hunched over inside her jacket as she dashed for her car. The rain hammering against her hood sounded unusually loud, too.

The car was like a sick reminder of what she had lost. But she needed it, so she hadn't sold it yet.

She didn't want to go back to her empty house. She knew Natalie would still be at the hospital. She worked more than usual now that Carlisle was gone.

Last night had been particularly brutal, and she had no desire to revisit the scene of the suffering. Even after the pain had subsided enough for her to sleep, it wasn't over. Like she'd told Jessica and Bella after the movie, there was never any doubt that she would have nightmares.

She always had nightmares now, every night... that she actually fell asleep, that is.

Nina wished she could be numb again. She couldn't remember how she had managed it before. Her nightmares were nagging at her mind and making her think about things that only caused her pain. Even as she shuddered away from the images, she felt her eyes fill with tears and the aching begin around the edges of the hole in her chest. She took one hand from the steering wheel and wrapped it around her torso to hold it in one piece.

It will be as if I'd never existed. The words rang through her head, lacking the perfect clarity of her hallucination last night. They were just words, soundless, like a print on a page. Just words, but they ripped the hole wide open, and she stomped on the brake, knowing she should not drive while this incapacitated.

She turned on her hazards so other drivers could see her through the rain before she curled over, pressing her face against the steering wheel and tried to breathe without her lungs.

Nina tried to think of how long this feeling could last. A year? A decade? She'd be dead by then, so it wouldn't matter.

Selfishly, she had thought she would die with him beside her, holding her as her magic died out. The sight of him being her last before the afterlife took her.

Maybe one day she would be able to look back on those few short months, that would always be the best part of her life, and be able to bear the memory, be able to smile fondly at the reminiscence.

But what if this hole never got any better? If the raw edges never healed? If the damage was permanent and irreversible.

Her mate rejected her. That had hardly ever happened before. Who knew what it would do to a person?

She held herself tighter. As if he'd never existed, she thought in despair. What a stupid and impossible promise to make!

She thumped her head against the steering wheel, trying to distract herself from the sharper pain.

For a split second, as her eyes drifted out to stare past her windshield, she saw him. Nina jumped in shock, about to get out of the car, but he disappeared into the wind.

She turned off the engine and stepped out into the drizzle. The cold rain dripped through her hair and then trickled across her cheeks like freshwater tears. It helped to clear her head. She blinked the water from her eyes, staring blankly across the road.

After a minute of staring, she recognized where she was. She'd parked in the middle of the north lane of Russell Avenue. She was standing in front of the Cheneys' house—her car was blocking their driveway—and across the road lived the Markses. She knew she needed to move her car, and that the best thing to do would be to go home.

It was wrong to wander the way she had, distracted and impaired, a menace on the roads of Forks. Besides, someone would notice her soon enough, and report her to Bella's dad which would inevitably lead to a lecture from her mother.

As she took a deep breath in preparation, a sign in the Markses' yard caught her eye—it was just a big piece of cardboard leaning against their mailbox post, with black letters scrawled in caps across it.

Sometimes, kismet happens.

Coincidence? Or was it meant to be? She didn't know, but it seemed kind of silly to think that it was somehow fated, that the dilapidated motorcycles rusting in the Markses' front yard beside the hand-printed FOR SALE, AS IS sign were serving some higher purpose by existing there, right where she needed them to be.

So maybe it wasn't kismet. Maybe there were just all kinds of ways to be reckless, and she only now had her eyes open to them.

Reckless and stupid. Those were Natalie's two very favorite words to apply to motorcycles.

Natalie's job didn't get a lot of action compared to doctors in bigger towns, but she did get called in on traffic accidents. With the long, wet stretches of freeway twisting and turning through the forest, blind corner after blind corner, there was no shortage of that kind of action. But even with all the huge log-haulers barreling around the turns, mostly people walked away. The exceptions to that rule were often on motorcycles, and Natalie had seen one too many victims, almost always kids, coming in smeared on gurneys.

She'd made her promise before she was fifteen that she would never accept a ride on a motorcycle. Even at that age, she didn't have to think twice before promising. Who would want to ride a motorcycle in Forks? It would be like taking a sixty mile-per-hour bath.

So many promises she kept... It clicked together for her then. She wanted to be stupid and reckless, and she wanted to break promises. Why stop at one?

That's as far as she thought it through. She sloshed through the rain to the Markses' front door and rang the bell.

One of the Marks boys opened the door, the younger one, the freshman. Nina couldn't remember his name. His sandy hair only came up to her shoulder.

He had no trouble remembering her name. "Nina Evans?" He asked in surprise.

"How much do you want for the bike?" She panted, jerking her thumb over her shoulder toward the sales display.

"Are you serious?" He demanded, still slightly star-struck that Nina Evans was on his doorstep.

"Of course I am."

"They don't work."

Nina sighed impatiently—this was something she'd already inferred from the sign. "How much?"

"If you really want one, just take it. My mom made my dad move them down to the road, so they'd get picked up with the garbage."

Nina glanced at the bikes again and saw that they were resting on a pile of yard clippings and dead branches. "Are you positive about that?"

"Sure, you want to ask her?" It was probably better not to involve adults who might mention this to Natalie. "No, I believe you."

"You want me to help you?" He offered. "They're not light."

"Okay, thanks. I only need one, though."

"Might as well take both," The boy said, smiling as he grabbed a coat. "Maybe you could scavenge some parts."

He followed her out into the downpour and helped her load both of the heavy bikes onto the top of her car. He seemed eager to be rid of them, so she didn't argue.

"What are you going to do with them, anyway?" He asked, checking the sturdiness of them. "They haven't worked in years."

"I need a new project to work on," She told him. "I've gotten a little bored lately."

"You know how to fix bikes?"

"Not at all. I'll find someone to help me..." She thought about it for a moment. "Actually, I already know who I can go to."

"Oh, that's good," He smiled in relief.

He waved as she pulled away, still smiling. Friendly kid.

Nina drove quickly, not wanting to leave the heavy bikes on the top of her car for long. It wasn't exactly the most practical, let alone the safest way to transport them.

She drove down the familiar roads toward the Blacks' place—a home she had gotten familiar with along with the Uley home.

She hoped she could get Jacob alone. She knew that if Bella were there, Bella would betray her, her perception of danger would be dismissed, and her mother would force her into therapy.

The Blacks' house was familiar, a small wooden place with narrow windows, the dull red paint making it resemble a tiny barn. Jacob's head peered out of the window before she could even get out of the car. No doubt the familiar smooth roar of the engine had tipped him off to her approach.

Jacob was always excited when Nina came over. She was his new best friend, or at least, that's what he called her. He didn't have any friends that were girls, so he had always come to her for advice, especially when it came to his relationship with Bella.

He met her halfway to the house.

"Neens!"

His excited grin stretched wide across his face, the bright teeth standing in vivid contrast to the deep russet color of his skin. She'd never seen his hair out of its usual ponytail before. It fell like black satin curtains on either side of his broad face.

Jacob had grown into some of his potential in the last eight months. He'd passed that point where the soft muscles of childhood hardened into the solid, lanky build of a teenager; the tendons and veins had become prominent under the skin of his arms.

"Hey, Jacob!" Nina tried to match his grin. She was happy to see him. He was always a fun distraction from her misery.

He stopped a few feet away from her, and she stared up at him in surprise, leaning her head back though the rain pelted her face.

"What the hell is Bella feeding you? You grew again!" She accused in amazement.

He laughed, his smile widening impossibly. "Six five," He announced with self-satisfaction.

"Is it ever going to stop? Jesus, you're like the friendly green giant."

"Come on inside! Paul's here. He won't shut up about seeing you."

He pulled her inside, having to duck to get through the doorway before Nina felt herself being picked up and pulled into a hug.

"Neens!"

The witch chuckled at Paul's enthusiasm.

"Hey, Dad," Jacob called through an amused laugh. "Look who stopped by."

Billy was in the tiny square living room, a book in his hands. He set the book in his lap and wheeled himself forward when he saw the witch.

"Well, what do you know? It's good to see you, Nina."

When Paul finally set her back on the ground, Nina shook his hand. His wide grasp enveloped her hand. "What brings you out here? Everything okay with Natalie?"

"Oh, yeah, she's fine. I was just getting a bit bored, so I figured I'd check and see if Jake was free."

He smiled and nodded. "Well, I'll leave you kids too it."

When he left, both Jake and Paul looked at her. "What are we doing? And does it have anything to do with the absolute beauts of bikes that you have on your car?"

Nina grinned, sensing Jake's excitement, which grew when she nodded.

"I found them at the Markses' house. They're not in the greatest condition. I was wondering if you might be able to help me out and get them running?"

"Cool." He seemed truly pleased by the challenge. His face glowed. "I'll give it a try. Wanna help, Paul? You helped Embry build his, right?"

Paul rubbed his hands together as they walked out and took a look at the bikes. "Heck yeah. Anything for my favourite pale face."

Before they could go to pull them off her car, she held her finger up. "The thing is," She explained, "My mom doesn't approve of motorcycles. Honestly, she'd probably bust a vein in her forehead if she knew about this. So you can't tell Billy... or Bella."

While Paul shrugged, Jacob took a minute. He was bad at keeping secrets. "I'll try. But no promises on not telling Bells. That woman gets secrets out of me pretty easily."

"Fine. If she finds out, just tell her to come to me first and not my mom."

"Sure, sure." Jacob smiled. "I understand."

"I'll pay you both," She continued. But their brows furrowed into offended looks.

"No. We want to help. You can't pay us."

"Well... how about a trade, then? I only need one bike—and I'll need lessons, too. So how about this? I'll give you two the other bike, and then you two can teach me."

Paul grinned, "More time with Nina? Hell yeah."

"You see me like five times a week, Paul."

He chuckled, patting her head. "Just be flattered, I like your presence, princess. Come on, Jake. Help me get these down before they dent the roof."

They unloaded the bikes swiftly and with ease and wheeled them into the shrubbery yard where Nina hid. It looked too easy for them—she'd remembered the bikes being much, much heavier than that.

"These aren't half bad," Jacob appraised as he and Paul pushed them through the cover of the trees. "This one here will actually be worth something when we're done—it's an old Harley Sprint."

"That one's yours, then."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"These are going to take some cash, though," Paul said, frowning down at the blackened metal. "We'll have to save up for parts first."

"We nothing," Nina disagreed. "If you two are doing this for free, I'll pay for the parts."

"I don't know..." They muttered in sync.

"I've got some money saved. College fund, you know." It wasn't like she was going to live long enough to even use her college fund for school. Even if she was still alive, it wasn't like she planned on going anywhere special. What difference would it make if she skimmed a little bit off the top?

The two boys nodded. This all made perfect sense to them. As the three skulked back to the makeshift garage, Nina contemplated her luck. Only a teenage boy would agree to this: deceiving both their parents while repairing dangerous vehicles using money meant for her college education. They didn't see anything wrong with that picture.

a/n

this is such a filler chapter i'm sorry. next one's longer i promise :)

going to get a tetanus shot now because my wife threatened me that if i don't she won't let me see the cats for a week.

@A_Friendly_Writer please come home baby, i'm lonely and need attention