Bloody Mary // J. Hale

More than meets the eye

The truck's engine rumbled steadily as it navigated the winding road flanked by dense forest. Shadows stretched across the pavement, growing longer as the last light of the sun faded behind them. They had left the beach far behind, the salty air giving way to the earthy scent of moss and pine as they made their way back toward Forks.

Sam had turned up the heat to ward off the chill, and Jenna leaned gratefully into the warmth, a faint hint of colour returning to her pale lips. Wrapped snugly in a thick blanket like a cocoon, she felt the cold from the beach slowly melt away. The steady hum of the engine and the warmth from the vents eased the tension in her shoulders, allowing her to sink deeper into the seat, breathing in the comforting mix of forest scents and the clean, familiar fragrance of fabric softener from the blanket.

Thoughts of the beach swirled in her mind. Eric had stood up for her against Lauren, sticking by her side and pulling her from the water with Bella's help. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she fought them back. Did he actually care about her? She had always assumed his concern stemmed from their long history. But Eric cared. Bella and Angela did, too. Jasper was right; she had convinced herself that everyone hated her. But if that were actually true, she would have drowned.

You're never alone.

For the first time, Jenna welcomed the voice in her mind. She wasn't alone; she never had been. That had always been the problem. Despite the voices surrounding her, she felt isolated. It wasn't just others keeping their distance; she had done that herself. During her time in Seattle, she had avoided contact with her friends, too afraid they would see her as a freak. But since her return, Eric and Angela had never looked at her that way. And Bella, being the new girl, hadn't been scared off by the stories and opinions of others.

Jenna was lost in her thoughts, almost forgetting that she wasn't alone in the truck.

"Jenna, there's something I want to ask you," Sam said, his voice gentle but steady, snapping her out of her reverie.

Jenna didn't turn; instead, her shoulders tensed, her body instinctively adopting a defensive posture. "What is it?"

"It's just..." He hesitated, searching for the right words to avoid setting her off. "I know you're... different." He glanced at her, hoping his choice of words would resonate without causing further tension. "I mean, there's something about you—something other people don't understand."

Her gaze shifted to her reflection in the window. She saw the shadows that followed her, wrapping around her like hands reaching out, grasping at her. She snapped her gaze away. "Different." The word fell from her lips like a curse, each syllable clipped with bitterness that caught Sam by surprise. "That's one way of putting it."

Sam took a slow breath, carefully measuring his next words. He needed her to hear him, to understand, but he also knew he was treading on fragile ground. "The stories made their way to the reservation too, Jenna. You know, the story of Bloody M—"

"Don't!" Jenna's voice cut through the dimness of the truck, laced with something close to panic. Her hand shot out instinctively, as if she could physically stop the words from escaping his mouth. "Don't say that name. Just... don't."

Sam nodded, his hands tightening slightly on the steering wheel. "Right. Sorry. I don't want to make you uncomfortable; it's just..."

"It's just what?" Jenna snapped, her voice taut with irritation.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I think... I think there was more to the accident than everyone believes."

Jenna's glare could have burned through him, her body rigid with a mix of anger and something darker. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam."