Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight

Okay, this was going to be a one shot, but I liked the flow better if I just chopped this into different chapters. But, this is all going to be published in one day, hopefully before the official start of year 2011 and I just decided to start posting the first parts of the story now, while I worked on finishing up. It's Blackwater, because Jacob and Leah kick ass and I hope yiou enjoy!

New Year's Resolutions

January 1, 2011

New year, new me—that's my mantra for this year. I'm tired of being looked at as the wicked bitch whose dad died and got dumped by her fiancé. No, this year things are going to change. I'm not going to curse out everybody every time I get pissed off and then go get drunk senseless at the first bar I stumble across. I'm going to transform into the type of woman everybody is jealous of. And then I'm going to turn around and shove it in their faces.

New Leah—no, changed Leah is going to be somebody that is just… awesome. The world is going to kiss the ground I walk on.

The first step to changing: working out.

Working out is a supposedly great way to relieve stress and it can also help you calm down so I am hitting the gym this year. And once my body is toned to perfection I won't be so reluctant to flaunt it. Not that I'm going to go out and buy mini skirts and shirts that reveal my stomach, but shopping for a bathing suit won't be so dreadful this year.

"Would you like to sign up for a membership?" The fat man (why is a fat man working at a gym? It just seems a little ironic to me) behind the counter asked. "I can get you signed up and then give you a tour around the place and have you try out a couple machines."

"Okay, how much is a membership?" Oh, look at that. I am being polite. Watch out, the world may come to a sudden end in ten seconds. Ten… nine…

"Well, it depends on what kind of plan you want." Eight... seven... "We have family plans and-" six... five...

"What's your cheapest plan?" Four... three…

"Well, our cheapest plan would be 90 dollars a month."

Two... one.

Well look at that; I can be polite and not have buildings crashing down on—

"90 dollars! What kind of gym is this, Rob-You-Broke?" I was actually trying to get a membership at Gold's Gym since I knew Sam and Emily had memberships at the Y and I was trying to avoid them (It's hard to make a change when I want to slam their faces into walls every time I see them). Now I'm starting to think it's called Gold's Gym for a reason. "Does this place only cater to the fucking rich and famous?"

Fuck, I cursed and not even for a good cause. Might as well cross Reduce cursing off my resolutions list.

"I-I'm sorry ma'am, but that's just the cost. I'm only—"

"Whatever," I hissed, annoyed that I couldn't get in. Just another group of people I wasn't allowed to join. And then I was even more annoyed at myself for actually being bothered by a stupid gym membership. It's not the fucking country club. "I don't need fancy equipment to get in shape."

-x-

Not having money was only a minor set back in my plans. I can still buy dumb bells for cheap at the store. And I could go for a run around my neighborhood. And I could do sit-ups without some complicated machine. And if it really came down to it, I'll buy one of those retarded workout tapes and get nice and sweaty in my living room.

I decided to start with sit-ups. I could do 100 normal sit-ups and then about 25 on each side. When I was twelve I could 80 sit-ups in one minute so it shouldn't take me too long. Hell, thirteen years later I should get this stuff done in…

I'll get it done.

"Forty-five," I wheezed out as my back lifted off the floor and my core muscles squeezed together. "Forty-six… Forty-seven…" Too… tired… "Forty-eight…" must… "Forty-nine…" Quit!

I gasped when my back hit the floor again and I refused to get back up. I rolled over onto my stomach and reveled in the feeling of being able to just lay there like a log. I'll probably be here for a while. I definitely should have stopped after thirty when I realized I was getting tired.

I stretched my hand out to the side and grabbed the notebook and pen I had written my resolutions down in. I ran a straight line through Get in shape.

I'll worry about that when I actually get fat.