Chapter 1
Breezy P.O.V
"Are you alright?" My mom cut the engine of the little Volkswagen, and I could feel her gaze on me. My face was pressed up against the window, my eyes shut. After 20 minutes of seeing nothing but a green blob rushing past, I'd gotten a little motion sick.
"Just dandy!" I muttered, not opening my eyes. I heard her sigh, followed by her door opening and closing quietly. Finally, I cracked open an eye, disgusted to see that the green had followed me. It was everywhere. Green, green, greeny green green! Everything was freaking green. It was right then and there I vowed to burn every single green thing I owned. Excluding money.
I got out of the car on shaky legs, trying not to blow chunks everywhere. I was sick of La Push already, and I'd only been here for about 5 minutes. Oh, how I missed the bright blue skies of North Carolina. Sure, we got our fair share of rain, but at least the sun made an appearance. Here, I could probably stop somebody on the street and ask them the last time it hadn't been raining, and they wouldn't be able to remember.
"Bree, would you get my phone and call Emily? Tell her we're here, and we'd really appreciate the movers she promised." Mom said it in a joking tone, but I could tell she was aggravated. Not at Emily, oh God no. She was aggravated with the front door being too slender to fit an average sized cardboard box into. If my Uncle George ever came to visit, let's just say we'd have a bit of a problem on our hands.
"Aye aye, Captain!" I exclaimed, all traces of nausea gone. I'd faced the nightmare of loading the godforsaken boxes into the U-Haul trailer, and I knew that I didn't want to have to unload them. There was enough boxes in there for two women, for Christ's sake! Who would want to deal with that much crap?
I flung open the passenger door, and started digging through the center console for my mom's cell phone. After a few seconds of relentless excavation, I resurfaced with said phone in hand. I should've done a victory dance.
I scrolled through her contacts, coming to a stop on "Emily Young". I'd had the pleasure of talking to Emily on the phone only once in my life, so I was braced for the awkwardness. But I wasn't expecting as much awkwardness as there was…
"Hello?" A deep baritone answered, shocking me. It took me a second to string my thoughts into words.
"Uh, is Emily there?" I heard a sinister chuckle on the other end of the line, and fear gripped my stomach. I mean, sure I didn't know the lady, but it didn't mean I wouldn't care if she got murdered by some psychopath!
My off the wall train of thought was stopped dead by a girlish giggle, and realization hit me like a ton of condoms. "OH!" I shouted, the word hopping over my brain filter and straight out of my mouth. There was another dark chuckle, and then a voice that I recognized as Emily's demanded the phone. There was a few scuffling sounds, and then Emily talked.
"Hey Marie, I'm sorry about Sam-" I cut her off.
"This isn't Marie… Its Breezy. We're attempting to unload, and its not exactly going so hot… My mom was wondering if you could send reinforcements?" Awkward didn't even begin to describe the weirdness that was passing though the telephone lines.
"Oh, of course! We'll be over in just a few minutes!" Click. Apparently I was the only one who noticed the weirdness.
"Maaaaaaaaaa!" I yelled, pocketing her phone to protect it from the drizzling rain. Mom popped her head out of the doorway, her eyebrows knitted together in frustration. "They'll be here in a few minutes!" She nodded and disappeared back in the house.
Not wanting to seem like a lazy little princess, I made my way to the back of the U-Haul trailer and wrapped my arms around a particularly large box. Grunting with the effort of moving the beast, I waddled my way up the driveway, up the stairs, and stopped at the door. Remember how I said the doors were slender? Well now, the doorway seemed about as wide as a toothpick.
"Stupid! La Push! With your! Ridiculously! Tiny! Freaking! Doorways!" Each word was punctuated with a slam of the box, the corners crumpling in. I took out all of my frustration on that box, beating it into the doorway like an angry toddler. I used all of my self control to keep from screeching profanities, settling for creative censored forms of them.
"FUDGE ME UP THE AZALEA WITH A MOTHER TRUCKING SPIKE BAT!" I was shoving the Satanist box with all of my strength, until eventually, I flew through the doorway. Literally. I'd shoved through the doorway without an ounce of resistance, which resulted in me laying in a disheveled pile on the floor, giant box in hand.
"You sure you need our help? Looks like you're handling it pretty well yourself." Hearing the voice of who I guessed was Sam, I looked up from where I was laying to see the absolute biggest man I had ever seen in my life. The Jolly Green Giant didn't have shit on this dude. He looked like he could eat me whole.
I guess the shock on my face was pretty obvious, because Sam chuckled and took the box from me, leaving me laying in the floor like a retard. Glancing over at the couch, I was faced with a tough decision. Should I lay on the floor or move out of the way? What you should be doing is helping unload your own boxes, lazy. Yeah, but… my thoughts trailed off as I drifted off to sleep.
Q
"Is she dead Qwil? A little girl's voice asked. I could feel her candy-scented breath fan over my face. She must've been close.
"No Claire-Bear, she's just sleeping."
"Why is she on da fwoor?" D'aww! I just wanted to eat this little Claire up. As pedophilic as that sounds…
"Maybe because she's crazy!" Whoever Qwil was, I figured I didn't like him very much.
"I'm not crazy, you meanie-head." I muttered, slowly opening one eye to see a tanned little girl of about 3 right in front of my face, brown eyes wide. She was absolutely adorable, in the deer-caught-in-headlights kind of way.
"Qwil's not a meanie-head! Qwil's my bestest fwiend!" Claire exclaimed, throwing her little arms up in the air. Smiling, I resituated myself so I was sitting cross legged.
"What if I wanna be your bestest friend?" I asked innocently. She seemed to contemplate this for a minute, her tiny hands on her hips.
"You can be my bestest fwiend if you tell me a stowy!" She declared, parking her little butt right in front of me. Qwil plopped down next to her on his stomach, propping his chin up on his hands. They were quite the duo.
"Okay then Claire, what do you wanna hear a story about?" Once again, Claire put on her thinking face, scrunching her little eyebrows together. While she thought, I looked around my new living room, which was full of huge ass men. Like, bigger than Andre the Giant huge. And the largest of the group was staring at me, big time. Like, eyes the size of saucers, jaw slack, chest heaving.
"Fairies!" Claire screeched suddenly, making me jump. I tore my gaze away from the staring guy and turned back to Claire, who was looking quite proud of herself for thinking up such a good story topic.
"Alrighty, fairies it is! Once upon a time…" I dove straight into a story about Quil, the fairy who couldn't fly.
Every single day he would try to fly away from his mushroom, and every single day he would fail. After years and years of not being able to fly, he finally stopped trying. Quil never left his mushroom, but instead spent all his time writing stories. One day, he wrote a story about Claire the Flying Teacher. She was the most beautiful fairy in the land, and the very best flier.
That night, Quil fell asleep thinking of Claire, and how much better his life would be if she was real. He dreamed of her teaching him how to flap his wings in time with the wind, how to glide on warm drafts of air, and how to wash each scale of his wings carefully. It all seemed so real, he could hardly bring himself to accept it was a dream! He was so upset he almost swore never to write another story again, but was stopped by a knock on his mushroom door.
Wiping his little nose on a leaf-tissue, he answered the door. And who was standing there? None other than Claire the Flying Teacher, complete with a wing scrub brush! She fired up the flying lessons right away, not one to waste time. Quil followed each of her instructions carefully, trying his hardest to do as she said.
After weeks and weeks of training, Quil was finally able to fly. He could fly almost as well as Claire herself! The two soon became best friends, and together they helped teach the rest of the fairies of the forest how to fly.
Claire clapped her little hands together, grinning happily. "You make bettew stowies dan Qwil!" Quil looked really put out at this, and I felt bad for the guy. It had to bite to have your little sister (I was guessing on that part) basically say your stories suck.
"I might be better at making up stories, but I bet Quil's better at playing dress-up." I said, winking at Quil, totally expecting him to look miserable at thought of playing dress up with a 3 year old. So imagine my shock when he actually looked pleased at the "compliment".
"Quil is quite the looker in a dress!" I recognized the voice as Emily's. Mom had warned me about her scars, but I don't think anything could've prepared me for the deep gashes running down the side of her face. I bit back a gasp, trying not to stare, because I knew that if my scars were that visible that she would do the same for me.
"You wore a dress?" I asked incredulously, and Quil nodded solemnly.
"For Claire's birthday. They even tried out her play makeup on me."
I stared at him, searching his face for any hint that he was joking. All I got was slight confusion. Probably because you're staring at him like he's got a second nose, you freak. Shut up, conscious. Nobody likes you. You were adopted. Was not!
"-ner?" Ner? What was a ner? Ner-f darts? I had a Nerf gun and some darts in my boxes somewhere. How old are you again? The same age as you. Exactly. 16. Grow up. Never!
"Oh, Emily, we can't, not af-" Emily cut my mom off, a smile on her face. She really was beautiful, despite the gashes.
"Marie, stop being ridiculous. Its nothing. If I cook for these pigs every day, I think I can handle a couple more mouths."
Mom took in the group of bodybuilders, all of which were beaming excitedly at the mention of food. Well, all but the big one. Mr. McStare-y Pants. He was blatantly glaring at me, his arms folding across his chest, making him look even more intimidating. Narrowing my eyes, I glared right back. I didn't know this guy. He had no right to be rude to me. Yet.
"Great! There's a little trail right behind your house that leads straight to our place."
Trail? What did she mean, 'trail'? Like a trail through the woods? Oh my god. I felt my heart leap into my throat, thumping at a mile a minute. They couldn't be serious. They were kidding. This was a sick joke. Do you really think Emily would purposefully do that to you? Good point. I make a lot of good points. You just don't listen. This isn't the time for your nagging, conscious.
Cautiously, my mom looked from me and back to Emily, who was still smiling like she'd won the lottery. I tried to tell her with my eyes that I was not walking through the woods when it was getting dark, no matter how many beefy dudes were around. Hell, I wouldn't go walking through the woods in the middle of the day with a loaded shotgun and hand grenades. No. No, Mom. Don't make me go.
"Are you alright, Brianna?" Sam's deep voice was laced with concern, and he was looking at me curiously. Was it that obvious? Your fingers are shaking. Fuck.
"Y-yeah," Not good enough. Lie better. "Stood up too fast." Better. Now put your hands in your pockets. Obediently, I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants, going for the whole 'I'm-An-Unconcerned-Teenager' look. But from the looks the rest of the juiceheads were giving me, it wasn't working. Mom looked at me again, encouragement gleaming in her eyes.
"Okay. Lead the way." Oh good God. Conscious? Yes? I'm scared. Obviously. You're hyperventilating. …I am? Yeah. And that guy's staring at you again. Stop being such a freak. Can't you be nice? Just once? Never!
Out of nowhere, one of the Beefy Boys came up beside me, a warm smile on his face. He was absolutely adorable. I just wanted to pinch his cheeks and give him a lollipop. You sound like a mad pedo. I am a mad pedo. If you get charged with indecent liberties with a minor, I'm testifying against you. You're a voice inside of my head. You'd have a pretty hard time with that.
"Hey," he said, holding his large hand out for me to shake. I did. "I'm Seth."
"Breezy." His hand absolutely dwarfed mine, wiping all 'adorable' thoughts out of my head. You know what they say about guys with big hands. Can you stop being a pervert for 5 seconds? Seriously. You were thinking it, don't deny. …Yeah. I was. Sue me.
"So, Breezy," he grinned. "How do you like La Push?" Wrong question, buddo. Did you just say 'buddo'? Technically, I thought it. So shut up.
"Its… green?" I offered. Seth threw his head back and laughed, pulling a smile from me. He looked like a little kid again. Maybe it was the dimples… yeah, it was definitely the dimples.
As we walked, I started to like Seth more and more. He was a really cool kid, and he reminded me a lot of my friends back home. Maybe it was because of this that I didn't notice that we were deep in the woods until I stumbled over a root to my death. Well, almost death.
"You okay?" Seth asked, righting me. He'd caught me mere centimeters from the ground, as quick as lightening. It was a bit unnerving. I didn't even know people could move that fast.
I nodded stiffly, knowing that if I spoke that I'd stutter or do something equally embarrassing. He looked at me oddly before shrugging it off, diving straight back into the conversation we'd been having before I practically face-planted.
My heart was hammering in my chest, and I felt like every shadow that flickered by was going to jump out and kill me. Shadows don't kill people. You really need to shut up. Now is not the time. Ooh, touchy.
"H-how much farther?" I asked, completely interrupting him. There was a dark chuckle, the crunching of leaves, and then Mr. I-Glare-At-Random-Strangers was right beside me, a cocky grin on his face. I wanted to reach up and slap it off. This was not the time to mess with me. Not when I was on the verge of pissing in my pants.
"Hey, Jake!" Seth exclaimed, his smile a mile wide. I could practically see the idolization written on his face. Jake nodded his greeting before turning down to face me.
"Scared?" I tried to snort, but it came out like more of a whimper. There goes your chance at looking tough, Breezy. Good going. You're just as scared as I am! Well, seeing as I'm just a figment of your imagination, I don't feel pain. So I'm really not as scared as you are.
Jake's smirk just grew. "Scared of the big bad wolf?"