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✦•┈ ๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ 1.2
The motorcycle parts were carefully laid out on blankets, each piece spaced with obsessive precision. Jacob moved among them, completely absorbed, checking and adjusting with focused energy. Bella stood close, watching, sharing in his excitement.
Pricilla sat on a crate, feeling increasingly anxious as Jacob and Bella seemed lost in their own world. The more they connected over the parts, the more invisible she felt. Her thoughts spiraled—Why am I even here?—as she struggled to quiet the rising sense of being ignored.
"If we're going to be working on this every day, we should probably include some homework. Don't want your Dad to think I'm a bad influence on you," Bella spoke up, trying to sound casual but her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt.
Jacob chuckled, shaking his head. "You? Influence me? Please," he scoffed, his tone teasing.
Pricilla, seated a few feet away, had been quietly listening while she straightened the pile of nuts and bolts in front of her for the third time. She carefully adjusted each one until they were perfectly aligned, though she kept glancing back at them as if they might shift out of place any second. She inhaled sharply, fighting the urge to double-check the bolts again.
"I am older than you, you know," Bella said, her voice light but with a hint of defensiveness.
Jacob shrugged, leaning back. "Age ain't nothin' but a number."
Bella let out a short laugh. "And I convinced you to secretly build us two-wheeled death machines," she said, smirking
Jacob gasped in mock horror. "God, you're right. You're like Satan."
Priscilla tensed, her eyes darting towards the door as the sound of footsteps approached. She clenched her hands into fists, counting the beats of her heart in an attempt to calm herself. Two sets of footsteps. She heard them again. One, two. One, two. Her heart pounded faster. Were they too loud? Were they getting closer? She glanced back at the tools on the workbench, feeling the familiar itch. Were they still in place? She couldn't be sure. Her foot tapped lightly against the floor, once, then twice, as if she could reset the unease with each motion.
"Yo, Jake, you in there?" A male voice called out, the footsteps growing louder with each second. Bella jolted upright, her hands instinctively flying to the tarp, quickly pulling it over the bikes in a hurried, almost frantic motion.
Jacob noticed Priscilla's face tighten as she watched the door, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve, twisting it until her knuckles turned white. "It's cool," Jacob said, his voice calm, trying to reassure her. "It's just my boys. Don't worry, Priscilla."
