You didn’t think I was serious, did you?
Jacob begins the arduous process of teaching Bella how to ride a motorcycle. Or, rather, he would, if the author herself knew anything about riding a motorcycle.
They finally get the stupid thing started, and as Bella begins to accelerate forward, she, of course, hears Edward’s voice in her head.
“This is reckless and childish and idiotic, Bella,” the velvet voice fumed.
I love how she never imagines him apologizing for hurting her, or telling her how much he loves her. He just orders her around some more.
She’s so surprised to hear his voice in her head that she falls over, bike on top of her. Her psychotic Edisode is all “I told you so,” even though he was the one who made her fall, and Jacob helps her back up. The more she tries the bike, the more she hallucinates Edward trying to control her some more, which, for some reason, makes her happy. When she finally starts zooming down the road, his voice distracts her to the point where she misses her turn, forgets how to turn, and slams on the brakes. She fishtails and ends up with her head in the ground.
Despite the fact that she was going so fast it was “blowing my skin against my skull and flinging my hair back behind me with enough force that it felt like someone was tugging on it,” and the fact that she wasn’t wearing a helmet, the stupid bitch is not dead. The bike lands on her, she takes a face dive, and she just sort of bleeds from her head a little. That’s it.
Jacob insists on driving her to the hospital. Bella resists, because the hospital, will, of course, ask questions. Good God. He takes off his shirt and wraps it around her head, puts the bikes in the back of the truck. The drop the bikes off at his garage, she goes home to change out of her bloody, muddy clothes, and then they go to the ER. Yes. She took a dive, head-first, from a motorcycle going at least 45 miles an hour, but she’s cool enough to make a couple of pitstops before moseying on down to the hospital. Jesus Christ. Is there any semblance of realism in these books?
Also, she hopes that the ER can stitch her up quickly, so she can try to kill herself again tonight. Edward, my love, I’m coming! ♥
She takes some time to stare at Jacob while he’s missing a shirt.
Jacob noticed my scrutiny.
“What?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious.
“Nothing. I just hadn’t realized before. Did you know, you’re sort of beautiful?”
Once the words slipped out, I worried that he might take my impulsive observation the wrong way.
Wow. Way to “break it off,” you little slut. I’m sure he won’t get the wrong idea now.
Anyway, she has seven stitches in her head, ho hum. Bella’s very clumsy so she’s used to this sort of thing by now. Remember, guys? Remember her one flaw? Remember how very clumsy she is? She tells her father that she fell and hit her head on a hammer in Jacob’s garage, which Charlie doesn’t really give a second thought to. I love how she can lie without a second thought.
She seems to be healing, at any rate. The pain of losing her ~*one true love*~ isn’t as intense now that she’s got delusions and Jacob the Wonder Rebound to keep her distracted.
We get a time-skip of about two weeks, and narrative is introduced by way of saying that Bella was in the ER again and this time Charlie doesn’t buy the “I fell” excuse.
“Maybe you should just stay out of the garage altogether, Bella,” he suggested that night during dinner.
I panicked, worried that Charlie was about to lay down some kind of edict that would prohibit La Push, and consequently my motorcycle. And I wasn’t giving it up–I’d had the most amazing hallucination today. My velvet-voiced delusion had yelled at me for almost five minute before I’d hit the brake too abruptly and launched myself into the tree.
Some people use drugs, or sex with strangers. Bella uses head injury.
“This didn’t happen in the garage,” I protested quickly. “We were hiking, and I tripped over a rock.”
“Since when do you hike?” Charlie asked skeptically.
You know, a good father would have gone “mysterious injuries, bizarre cover-up stories… what is that boy doing to you?” Charlie just sort of lets her convince him it’s because she was working at a sporting goods store and it “rubbed off” on her.
In all fairness, I like that Bella is actually, you know, doing things in life, even if her reasons are self-destructive and harmful on multiple levels. Now that Edward is gone, she seems to have some modicum of freedom, freedom that Jacob is keen to encourage in her. It’s too bad everyone keeps telling me that Smeyer later writes Jacob as a major flaming douche bag. I guess she realized that she’d made Jacob more likable than her supposed hero and had to fix it, fast.
Bella complains to Jacob that Charlie is getting nosy, and he suggests they cool the bikes. Bella tries to think of some other possible way she could encourage her mental trauma, and decides that they should try to find that one meadow where vampires transform from creepy, subtly malignant, abusive metrosexuals, into creepy, subtly malignant, abusive and sparkling metrosexuals.
Jacob, an injun, already knows everything there is to know about hiking. He plots out a course for their hike, joking about seeing the “super bear.” When they finally get to where they’re going, he’s surprised to see that Bella didn’t take the clearly marked trail. Yeah, so was I. But Bella felt ~*so safe*~ around Edward, so being dragged off into the woods never registered on her non-existent danger senses.
There’s some pretty riveting hiking going on here, but I’ll spare you the details. Bella eventually asks if Jacob’s heard from Embry since he joined Samentology. Jacob says he hasn’t, gets all bummed, and puts an arm around Bella. Her justification for not shaking it off and attempting to reestablish their boundaries is he just looked sooo sad. Good God, I hate this bitch.
Anyway, they don’t find the meadow, and agree to try tomorrow. I seriously feel like I just wasted 10 minutes of my life reading this chapter. Why won’t something happen. Is this honestly how Stephenie thinks a book should go? 19 chapters of absolutely nothing and then seven chapters of hastily cobbled-together contrivances that might pass for plot in an alternate reality where all of us have goatees, scars, or eye-patches? For Christ’s sake, she could have cut all this “character development” bull she’s so freaking proud of and condensed her whole hateful, virulent series into one God damn book.
Please, Stephenie, please, inflict your midlife crisis on someone else.