Marc in the river

you've only missed a little bit in between this scene and the last scene, so i'll fill you in. :) basically, Marc runs really fast and it's a terrifying experience for everyone involved, except Peter (of course). they end up in the woods where they hike for several house until they come across this old wooden shack where they decide to stay for the night. they all encourage Haylee to start a fire but she can't because everything in the shack is damp from the woods. at the point in this scene where she is sitting in front of the fire pit concentrating, it's referring back to her aggravation at not being able to use her "powers" in this place. it's cold, they're hungry, Dakota and Marc are as awkward as ever, so it's a pretty good day. this scene isn't particularly action packed, but as Stephenie Meyer says, "Love is the best part of every story." so read and enjoy!

When I woke up, it was barely light in the tiny, cold room. I had tossed and turned against my dreams all night, but I felt suddenly wide awake. I lifted myself as quietly as possible from the floor, trying not to wake Haylee and Peter curled up across the room. I stepped over Marc's empty sleeping bag as I made my way to the open backdoor. I stepped out onto the little porch, resting one hand against the ivy-laced banister. A little gleam of orange was creeping through the trees as the sun pushed itself over the edge of the world. I breathed in the clean air, the slight scent of flowers drifting on the breeze. I heard a splash to my right and looked over into the stream. My eyes followed a little trail of discarded clothes, my heart kicked into gear, and my eyes were pulled over to the figure of Marc bathing in the water.
He stood waist deep in the river, the dawn light glinting on his bare skin and through his hair. He rubbed water over his burnt arms and chest, the angry welts still standing out swollen against his skin. My breath caught in my throat. I knew that I should turn around, or close my eyes, or look away, but I couldn't. Everything seemed to slow down. He dropped back into the water and stood again, shaking his hair out. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as he swam swiftly against the slight current. He rose to the bank and draped his feet into the river. Every drop of water that fell from his jaw, his back, his fingertips, stood out brilliantly, sparkling against the rising sun. My palms began to tingle and my blood seemed to slow in my veins. He leaned back into the grass, his eyes closed, a peaceful smile draped across his face. The green light of the forest danced against his soft skin, across his closed eyelids. Suddenly, every feeling and thought became clear. Every confusion that I had felt through the past days lifted and there was only Marc and I alone in the dawn, breathing in unison and smiling in the sunlight.
Something tickled the back of my arm. I tore my eyes away and glanced down. The ivy from the railing had wound itself around my hand. It twined through my fingers and climbed, twisting, up my arm. Little yellow flowers bloomed along the vines as I watched, tiny clouds of sweet pollen drifted off on the breeze. I gasped and yanked my hand away. The ivy fell and wound itself back around the wood but not before I heard Marc yell and saw him scramble to his feet, yanking his clothes from the ground to cover himself.
The blood rushed like a great wave into my face. I froze where I stood, horrified, unable to move or lift my eyes from the ground. My pulse thundered in my head and I could barely hear Marc's footsteps as he slowly climbed to the porch and stood next to me. Thankfully, he had pulled his jeans on, and we stood in silence while the birds began to wake up in the trees around us.
"Well," he finally said. He sounded utterly embarrassed, which made the blood pound in my face even more furiously, "I guess we're even." I couldn't open my mouth. The silence stretched on. "Were you, um, there... for long?" he asked quietly, I could see him twisting his hands together nervously.
"No," I choked.
"I thought... I thought you'd sleep... longer..." His voice was barely a whisper.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize," he said, his voice sad.
"Alright." More silence followed.
"Dakota," he whispered desperately, "please look at me."
"I c-can't," I gasped. The tears sprang from my eyes and I rushed past him toward the stairs. He caught my arm and spun me toward him. I continued to stare at the floor, tears dripping onto the wood. He lifted my chin until I was forced to meet his eyes. Unbelievably, they were round with worry, his forehead creased.
"Why are you crying?" he whispered, wiping the back of his finger under my eye.
"I'm not," I lied.
"Dakota," he begged, laying his palm against my cheek, "please." I struggled to free myself from his grip, but he held my head between his big hands, his eyes pleading. "Please, tell me what you're thinking."
"I don't know how," I struggled against him but he held me firm.
"Stop hiding!" He shook me slightly, "Tell me something real!"
"I can't!" I clamped my eyes closed, shaking my head back and forth.
"Tell me the truth. Were you going to kiss me? In the kitchen?" His voice was desperate.
"I...I..." my throat closed around the words.
"Tell me how you feel!" He was almost shouting.
"I don't feel anything!" I cried. He let his arms drop to his sides. I looked up into his eyes, his face pale and hurt.
"You don't mean that," he spoke in a whisper, his eyes wide.
"Marc..." I reached out to him, not sure what to say or do. He caught my writs and pulled me close to him.
"Every time I look at you my heart throbs against my chest. I have no idea if you feel the same way that I do or if you feel anything at all," he spoke roughly into my face, his voice shaking with anger, "Every single thought is filled with you. What you're feeling. If you're alright. If you could possibly be thinking of me." Fresh tears spilled down my face. "I know that I don't deserve a chance, Dakota, but that doesn't mean that I don't want one." He dropped my wrists and took a step away, his face hard. "When you touch me or smile at me, I burn with shame for thinking of taking my life away before it knew you. Does it make you happy to know that?" I shook my head, raking through my brain for any response. "I pine for you, Dakota. You must see it." I stood where I was, frozen, tears leaking down my face. He sighed and turned down the stairs, disappearing away into the trees. I collapsed to my knees and held my face in my hands.
It was a long day. Marc stayed away for several hours. Finally, at some point in the afternoon, Haylee sent Peter out to look for him. I lay curled in my sleeping bag and Haylee knelt in front of the fire pit, her eyes closed, her forehead creased in concentration. I looked up when the front door opened. Peter stumbled in, panting.
"Did you find him?" I croaked.
"Oh yeah," Peter said, collapsing onto his sleeping bag.
"Where is he?" I asked desperately, looking around outside for him.
"No idea," he said, gasping for air, "he's too fast."
As the sun started to sink beneath the trees, I sat in the doorway of the porch. A light breeze ruffled my hair and I closed my eyes. It's going to rain, a tiny voice whispered in my ear.
"It's going to rain," I repeated, without thinking. Haylee and I looked over at Peter.
"Don't look at me," he said, shrugging his shoulders.
"But, there aren't any clouds," Haylee said, peeking up through the treetops. "Why do you say it's going to rain?"
"I.. it... smells like rain," I muttered.
"No it doesn't," Peter said, raising an eyebrow at me. Just then, the front door creaked open and Marc came sheepishly into the room. He carried his shirt in his hands, filled with berries and nuts. He set them down on the floor and Peter crawled over and started eating them without any explanation. He came slowly over to me and I jumped to my feet.
"I'm sorry that I yelled at you," he said, his tone flat, "there was no reason for that."
"Marc, please..." I began, but he held his hand up to stop me.
"No need, Dakota," he said with finality, "you don't owe me anything." With that, he crawled into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes. Haylee and Peter whispered quietly with their heads together and I sat in the doorway for a long time. Finally, as I had known, thunder rumbled in the distance and rain began to fall. I crawled into my sleeping bag and stared into the darkness.
At some point in the night, while I stared up at the ceiling that was dripping with rain, Peter sat up angrily.
"It's freezing, Haylee!" he shouted. Beside me, Marc pulled his sleeping bag over his head.
"What do you want me to do about it, Peter?" Haylee said harshly.
"Come on, Haylee! My ass is numb!"
"FINE!" She sat up and snapped her fingers. A little light appeared in her hand and drifted toward the fire pit, illuminating Peter's stunned face. It slid into the grate and crackled merrily. Haylee crawled back into her sleeping bag.
"Well..." Peter mumbled, "thanks." A long time later, I finally fell asleep.