This fan fiction is about Jessica—no, not Jessica Stanley—the Quileute girl mentioned on p. 118 of Twilight. I thought it might be interesting to explore a relationship between her and Jacob—what possibly could have happened. The story starts off the Saturday Bella learns about Edward's secret from Jacob on First Beach in La Push. If you're a Jacob fan, like me, then you should enjoy it. If not, read anyway, okay? Let me know what you think!
Jacob Have I Loved
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer created Twilight. I made her my main character's best friend in this story. :D
Knock. Knock. The loud, familiar bumps resound from my front door. Why does Jake always do this? I wonder. He's been my friend for years now—since the moment he was born actually. Why does he always insist on being polite? I guess he owes that to the influence of his father and two sisters.
I grab my green army jacket—a hand-me down from my father—from the hook on the coat rack as I disclose the front door. "Jacob Black, you know, you don't have to knock." I shyly smile at him, pulling on my jacket. "You are like my brother, you know."
"I know, Jess." Jake flashes me his pearly, white teeth, and my heart responsively skips a beat. "Come on. Sam and the others are waiting."
I exit the house, making sure the front door is locked, and head down the driveway to Sam's van. A group of Quileute friends and I are going down to First Beach like we always do on Saturdays. There are eight of us—Jake, Sam, Quil, Embry, Jared, Stephenie, Leah, and me. The usual "pack" I guess you could say. I don't know exactly why we go down there all the time, but any time spent with Jake is worth the usual boring monotony that is La Push on a Saturday.
"Jess, you have got to see my new phone!" Stephenie screeches at the top of her lungs as I step up into the back of the van. "Look, I'm texting right now! OMG! LOL!" Her fingers forcefully pound the keys on the tiny phone in her grasp.
"That's nice." I sigh. God, why does Steph have to be such a valley girl all the time? She is starting to get on my nerves just a little. Ever since she turned sixteen—the same age as me—she's been so incorrigible. I think she is just trying to get Embry's attention as if she needed anything else. She is the prettiest girl in the van of course. Oh, sure, Sam's girl, Leah, is pretty, too, but Steph has other "endowments" if you get my drift. Anyway, Embry is too shy to even ask a girl out. I don't know what she even sees in him.
"Want a soda?" Jake sits down beside me on the woven blanket strewn across the floor of the van, holding up a can of Mountain Dew.
"Sure." I eagerly remove the can from his right hand, and our fingers brush against each other slightly. The brief sensation of his skin against mine sends goose bumps all over my tanned body. He smiles at me fleetingly and opens a can of soda for himself.
Jacob Black and I have been friends ever since I can remember. I am only one year older than him, and our parents have always been close, so naturally we were as well. I remember when his mom, Sarah, died. It was hard on all of them—his father, Billy, and his twin sisters, Rachel and Rebecca. Anyway, a year or so ago, I began to think of him as more than a friend. I guess you could say I fell in love with him.
I longingly peer over at him, my mouth salivating and my heart pounding in my chest. His glistening, black hair is tied back by a rubber band at the base of his neck; his russet-colored skin is beautiful and smooth. Man, he is so gorgeous, and it only took me fifteen years to realize it! But I know that he doesn't feel the same way about me. If he did, he would let me know, right? Boys, I can never figure them out anyway!
"Hey, Jessica!" Quil suddenly calls from the passenger seat, waking me from my drool session, as Sam pulls the silver van out the driveway. Oh, God, Quil and his little crush on me! "You want to come sit up here by me?"
"No, thanks. I'm fine back here." I frown at him and turn my head, so that he can't see my eyes roll in disgust. Quil has always had a thing for me and wasn't subtle about it either. Anyway, I only have eyes for . . .
"Don't worry about him." Jake consolingly drapes his left arm across my shoulders, making me forget all about Quil. "If he tries anything, just kick him you-know-where." I can feel his laughter vibrate down his arm and onto my shoulders.
I love you, Jacob Black. My thoughts want me to yell at him, but of course I wouldn't dare. Instead, I settle for, "Thanks."
"Sure, sure." He replies and takes his arm away, thrilling my heart with that simple, familiar phrase.
As the van steadily skids the pavement toward the beach, I can still feel the warmth—the lasting imprint—of his arm about my shoulders.
Attn: Although this story starts off rather innocent, it is Rated M for future lemons. Yep, you heard right—future lemons! WOOT!