Bloody Mary // J. Hale

La Push'd

Jenna hadn't really wanted to go, but Bella had assured her it would be fun. Fun—squeezed into a crowded suburban with what feels like half the school wasn't exactly Jenna's idea of it. The usual rainy skies had cleared for the weekend, replaced by rare sunshine, so a group of students had planned a trip to First Beach in La Push. Though she'd hesitated at first, Bella's invitation had won her over.

In the past few weeks, Jenna and Bella had grown closer. Despite being one of the "popular" kids, Bella wasn't like the others. She was grounded, unaffected, a breath of fresh air in Forks. She never sought to fit in, nor did she demand attention, and somehow, this quiet confidence only made people gravitate toward her more. Even Jenna couldn't deny Bella's natural beauty and the warmth she brought to any room. She felt lucky, almost surprised, to consider Bella Swan a friend.

Jenna sat in the back, wedged uncomfortably between the car door and Eric, but at least she had the window. She gazed out as they passed familiar trees and winding roads, her mind drifting to summers spent at La Push. She could almost feel the salt on her skin, hear her baby brothers' laughter as they searched the tide pools for starfish. A soft smile crossed her lips—those were simple days, good memories.

Life wasn't necessarily bad for Jenna now, just... different. Things had improved. The whispers in the hallways had faded to occasional murmurs, and her old friend group seemed more tolerant of her presence. Still, she mostly kept to herself, finding comfort in her own company.

The familiar mile-long stretch of First Beach in La Push was breathtaking, even in its rugged simplicity. Dark gray waters stretched out to meet the rocky shore, capped with white foam as waves crashed rhythmically against the stones. Islands rose dramatically from the steel-colored ocean, with sheer cliff sides crowned by towering firs that reached up to jagged, uneven summits.

The beach itself was a mix of gritty sand and smooth stones, extending from the water's edge into millions of rounded rocks, appearing uniformly gray from afar but revealing an array of subtle colors up close—terra-cotta, sea green, lavender, blue-gray, and faded gold. Driftwood logs, bleached bone-white from the salt, lay scattered along the tide line. Some were piled together at the edge of the dense forest, while others lay solitary, just out of the waves' reach.

A brisk, briny wind swept over the beach, carrying the scent of salt and the chill of open water. Jenna took a deep breath as they climbed out of the cramped suburban. Finally, fresh air.

"I don't think I could've stayed in that car for much longer," Bella murmured, stepping up beside Jenna, both girls visibly relieved to escape the claustrophobia of the car. Jenna couldn't agree more.

With Mike leading the way, the group made their way down the beach, navigating over smooth stones and patches of gritty sand. They found a ring of driftwood logs, clearly a well-worn gathering spot, with a shallow fire pit already in place. Jenna, Eric, and a guy named Ben headed toward the forest edge to gather firewood. It didn't take long to build the structure for the bonfire, stacking mostly driftwood, each piece weathered by the sea and coated in a fine layer of dried salt.

To Jenna's right, she overheard Mike explaining the "science" of driftwood fires. She watched as he tossed in a small, lit branch, and the flames began to flicker in shades of blue and green. The colors danced and twisted, casting an otherworldly glow that she found mesmerizing. No matter how many times she saw it, the magic of driftwood fires never got old for her.

They'd been sitting by the bonfire for about half an hour when the guys in the group decided to head to the tide pools. Most of the girls initially declined, but with Bella and Jenna agreeing to go, Angela, Lauren, and a girl named Samantha decided to tag along too. Mike, happily assuming his role as the self-appointed tour guide, led the group along a short trail through the forest line until they reached the rocky shoreline.