smitten [s. clearwater]

it feels forced, don't you think?

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-CHAPTER FOUR: IT FEELS FORCED, DON'T YOU THINK?-

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The next week had passed without anything going wrong. Gabby and Delilah had their celebration dinner at Bella Italia, a charming little Italian place in Port Angeles. They worked on their project together briefly. School went fine, work went fine. Even the bonfire seemed to loom over her head less now that she carried around a weightless feeling about the whole situation.

She stood over her bed on a cold Friday afternoon with a small duffel bag open. She threw a pair of pajamas and two changes of clothes in to prepare for her sleepover at Quil's house. With a sigh, Delilah moved over to her bookshelf, throwing in her half finished copy of Anna Karenina and a pocket back book she'd gotten from her mom's store.

With the bag slung over her shoulder, she made her way downstairs to the mismatched and messy living room where Jillian sat with one of the millions of magazine subscriptions she had. "I'm off. I preordered you dinner from the diner, you just have to pick it up, 'kay?"

"Oh, you sweet daughter of mine." Jillian closed the magazine and threw her arms around Delilah's neck. She pulled away after a moment, keeping her hands on the brunette's shoulders. "Okay kid. No funny business and nothing naughty or gross with Quil. I know it might seem like a good idea, but remember that's how you were created-"

"Mom!"

Jillian giggled and kissed Delilah on the cheek. "Call me if you need anything, hon. And have fun."

Delilah nodded and walked over to the small key rack by the door. "Do you want me to take the truck or the Jeep?"

"Jeep!"

She grabbed the keys, driving to La Push with the windows down. Mist floated through the open windows and a light layer covered the steering wheel. As much as she complained about the rain, Delilah didn't think she could live without it. It was such an integral part of her life. Running on the beach under a mist, shivering with a towel around her shoulders after what could've been a flood, shielding takeout bags with whatever article of clothing or cloth bag that could be spared.

When she arrived at La Push, she drove to Jacob's house. Delilah had never been to a bonfire, but she knew where they'd been held. She left her bag on the passenger's seat and cranked the windows closed before locking the door and slipping the key into the pocket of her jeans.

Quil ran up to greet her, pulling her small frame into a loose hug. Seth looked up at her, debating whether or not to try and talk to her. Deciding not to, he broke the awkward eye contact with Delilah and looked at the dirt. Delilah and Quil walked to a log farthest away from where Seth and Embry sat and closest to where the tribe elders were sitting.

"Grab some food." Sue reached over an empty lawn chair and squeezed Delilah's arm. "We're waiting on Jacob and Bella."

Delilah found it hard to say no to any motherly figure, so she did as she was told and grabbed two hotdogs, even though she didn't much care for them. She brought the second for Quil as Jacob and a girl, with more pallor in her skin than Delilah, joined the group.

Seth jogged up to Jacob and said something to him. Jacob pointed to Delilah and then the three of them looked at her, Bella with her head tilted to the side. Once they took their seats, the bonfire began.

Billy Black, the chief of the tribe, spoke, telling the stories and legends of the tribe. Delilah listened carefully as she did in class, but she didn't feel like she had the right to be sitting there listening as carefully as she was. He told stories of humans who could shift into wolves and the wife of an ancient chief who sacrificed herself to save the tribe when faced with danger from what they called the cold ones.