Discover Twilight

chapter xxix

The night before the battle, the Pack with the exception of Jacob who's on Bella's campsite until tomorrow morning, sit at the picnic table in Sam and Emily's backyard joking around, watching the fire glow in his small fire pit. Quil and Embry jokingly started singing some song that has been playing on the radio nonstop for a while, so I started hitting the drumline onto the tabletop. For some reason Paul ran into the house when I started doing that. When he came back, he had an acoustic guitar in one hand and a violin with it's bow in the other.

"Why do you have those, dude? Do you know how to play either of those?" Seth asked, taking a burger off the plate in front of me.

Instinctually my left hand reaches up to my neck, tracing the treble clef with my index finger. Paul shook his head no but before he could elaborate on why he had them Sam cut him off, holding his hands out expectantly, "Give me the guitar."

"You play?" I ask as Paul handed him the acoustic, smirking at me. Sam played an E major chord nodding. Paul handed me the beautiful violin, but I haven't had my violin since I moved to Forks. I purposefully left it in Florida because I didn't think the airline would let me take it and I didn't want to play ever again.  "Where did you get the violin, Lahote?"

He looks down at his bare feet, scratching the back of his neck. I'm still angry with him about the other day and this is the first time I've talked to him since our screaming match.

Two Days Ago:

The Pack got back to Sam's at about noon. I plop down on the front porch while everyone files into the house for food or a nap. Paul lingers at the front door, trying to decide whether or not to go inside. "In or out, the eternal question. Does one observe Mother Nature or return to the domestic residence? The age old dilemma," I remark with my signature sarcasm.

"More like, to be with you or get food? My eternal question," he laughs, leaning on the doorframe.

I snort, shaking my head whilst giving him the finger, "The only right answer is food."

He rolls his eyes, sitting down next to me. I refocus my attention on the sparrow sitting on the lowest branch across from the house, fiddling with my necklace that Paul had given me. I must've started humming to myself or something because he randomly asks, "Why don't you tell people you're a musician?"

"Because being a musician isn't practical. There isn't a future there for me, it was something I did in my free time because it made Mama happy. She loved music and the fact I loved it and somehow had some talent, made her focus on something other than the fact she was dying."

He sits in silence as I explain myself to him. He rolls his eyes, "Well you could have a future in it if you tried. If you love it, you wouldn't give up on yourself."

The audacity in his tone, to claim I'm giving up on myself, pissed me off. I clenched my jaw, "I do love it. And I don't see how this is any of your fucking business, Lahote."

I spit his last name like poison, I could feel the slow rise in my temperature as I got angrier. He clearly didn't like how I said his name because he furrowed his brow, frowning at me, "Oh, so we're back to this? I don't have name anymore? Fine, but I just don't want you to hide that part of yourself or give up on it."

I jump out of my chair, putting distance between us, "Get over yourself! You only care because of your impulsive need to be involved in my life. News flash: it's not your problem! If I want to keep my music to myself I will, if I wanna give up I will, but don't think for one second that you have any right to give me YOUR two cents on MY life!"

He got up out of his chair too, kicking it over, "Damnit Dakota! I'm trying to be a freaking good guy FOR YOU but everything I do or say is never good enough! I know it's your life and you're perfectly capable of making your our choices. But News Flash: I care about you! And I'm going to encourage you, even when you hate me. I've heard you play, sing when you thought no one was listening and I've seen the sheet music you keep in your truck. You love it and you're hiding it like a scared little girl!"

I storm over to my driver side door, swinging it open, "Screw you, Paul Lahote! I hate you! You don't get it! It's her, everything I do is for her, you Ass! It physically hurts me to play but I do because it keeps me connected to her! Stay out of my life, I never asked for your opinion or for you to Imprint on me. So do me this solid and keep your nose out of my music and my life!"

I knew that everything I screamed at him would hurt him because of the Imprint but I didn't care because I needed him to drop the subject. I pull to the shoulder of the road, way too angry to drive, just needing to be away from the Pack for a while. Because they now all know, surely having heard our screaming match.

"This was my graduation gift to you," he whispers but everyone heard him. Eight set of eyes watch me, like a caged zoo animal, curious to see my reaction.

I lock eyes on Sam's fingers changing frets and playing different chords, all creating the melancholy ambiance. The mahogany is cool against my hand and the bow is fresh, never been used. I bring the instrument to my chin, raising the bow with it, playing in no specific order the chords Sam has strummed already. Then remembering a song I learned for fun because I was bored in Music Theory, I begin playing You and Me by Lifehouse. By the chorus, Sam joined in but when I finished and opened my eyes again everyone was staring at me.

"Holy crap Kody, you're amazing," Jared shouted, scaring me a little.

"Thank you. And thank you Paul for the violin. I didn't realize how much I missed it until right now," I mumble, deliberately not looking at him.

I take the bow and the violin, tuck them under my arm and go into the house. Once I get into the house and in the kitchen, I start crying, clutching the instrument tightly to my chest. Suddenly muscled arms wrap around me bringing me to their bare chest,

"It's okay. I understand now, I'm sorry I pushed and I'll never do it again but I can't stay away. That was beautiful, you know?"

Of course I know why he can't leave me alone and I know I wouldn't actually want him to. Sometimes I wonder how I got myself in this life then sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd never moved here? Would I be more broken? His hold on me was secure, warm and comforting, a part of me didn't want to leave. I chuckle wiping the tears from my cheeks and off of his chest, "Thank you. For everything. I'm sorry for saying all those things, I knew they'd hurt you and I didn't care. I'm a horrible person. Thank you for the violin, I really love it."

He smiles down at me, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. His lips were so close to mine and something just clicked but I pulled myself away from him and toward the stairs, "Goodnight. Tell everyone else I'm going to bed."