Megan rolled her eyes as her boyfriend Simon walked out of their café super spy style. She used to think that his ridiculousness was funny and cute, but they were getting older, and sometimes his making scenes in public got a little old. She couldn't complain, though, when he looked back at her, his green eyes sparkling in amusement. They had been together for two years now, and had been friends even longer. Megan could barely imagine life without him.
He rejoined her and Megan grabbed his hand.
"Hey look," she said, pointing to an ad in a nearby storefront. "The Mad Hatters are playing again."
They both laughed. Last time they had gone to their concert, expecting a fun if kooky band, they had walked into a room a bit too full of shameless sexual exposition.
"No thanks."
They were walking down the main street of the town of La Push, towards the town common. Megan turned to watch a group of guys who were sitting in a circle on the grass messing around. Her attention was immediately caught by one of them playing a guitar. There was something hauntingly familiar about the melody of his song, like she had heard it once years ago, or in a dream.
Megan couldn't look away. She didn't even realize that her steps had veered in the direction of the group or that they had completely fallen silent until he reached the end of the song and the last of the notes had floated away.
The guitarist finally looked up and caught her gaze. His eyes were dark brown and deep, his gaze clear and wide. He seemed shocked, or amazed. Megan forgot everything around her and stared back.
"Do you know these guys?" Simon asked.
Megan broke away from their weird staring contest and realized where they were. She felt herself blush bright red. She cleared her throat once, twice. "No. That song just sounded really familiar," she said lamely.
The guitarist was still staring at her, but so was everyone else. The silence stretched on longer, until it became really awkward, and Megan began to move away. Suddenly someone said, "It's an old Quileute folk song." The player had spoken. "You've probably heard it if you're from around here."
Megan looked back and almost got trapped by his gaze again. She didn't know him, but it was like she wanted to. She needed to. She felt an invisible pull, wanting to be closer to him.
"We're…we're from the next town over. Just visiting. I don't know where I've heard the song before."
Simon pulled on her arm and she shook her head, breaking the connection once again. They walked away finally, but Megan still had the strong desire to run back. To be with him. A stranger.
"What was that about?" he asked.
"Nothing. I just…felt like I knew the song," she repeated. She grabbed his hand again, not remembering having dropped it. "Anywhere else you wanted to visit in La Push?" They had driven in just to visit Cassie's Café, which everyone reported was wonderful.
"Nah, let's head back home." He was clearly a bit disgruntled about the weird guitarist incident, but there was nothing Megan could say to remedy that. He would come back around. He always did.
Embry was beside himself as he watched the couple walk away. Jared discreetly took the guitar away from him, seeing the shaking of his hands and fearing destruction of the instrument.
"Did you just…imprint?" Seth asked finally.
Embry got up without answering, beginning to walk in the same direction that the couple had left in. He watched from a distance as they boarded a bus for Forks. He took a step closer, feeling an indefinable pull towards her. Who was she?
Quil put his hand on Embry's shoulder, pulling him back down to earth.
"Is this how you feel all the time?" Embry asked. The bus began to pull away. "Wanting to go to her, but unable to? Like…you're pulled towards her?"
Quil had imprinted on Claire, a five year old. He was biding his time until she was old enough to take her place as his soul mate. He nodded slowly. "It sort of aches when I'm not with Claire, and I get so much happier when I'm near her. Like the world's okay for a moment. Just…like feeling sunshine."
Seth, who had followed them, snorted. "That's poetic, man."
Quil shoved him lightly. "Lay off. Embry's dealing with stuff."
"Sorry, man," Seth said. "So what are you going to do? You think she's with that guy?"
Embry growled. "Yeah, she's definitely with him. I don't know. Will this go away?" He whirled on Quil, who shook his head soberly.
"You just have to make the best of it."
Embry shrugged his arm off. "Yeah, and what if I don't want her forever?" he demanded. Her face was engrained into his memory. "What if I just want to be normal?"
"Maybe we should move this argument to somewhere more private?" Jared suggested. "Sam will kill us if he finds out about this."
"Whatever. I'll see you guys later," Embry said, striding angrily away.
"Don't do anything stupid," he heard Quil yell after him.
Embry made it to the woods in ten minutes, making pretty good time. Once he was within the cover of the trees, he morphed into his other form, that of a huge grey speckled wolf. For a while, hours maybe, he just ran, trying to get his mind off of her. He howled and attacked trees and hunted, to no avail. Finally, when he had just worn himself out, he got to where he knew he would end up: the town limits of Forks.
Night had fallen, so he morphed back, pulling on the pair of pants he had hidden near the road. In a few minutes, he was in the center of the tiny town at the bus station. Trying not to look suspicious, he sniffed the air, looking for her scent. It was burned into his nose, lavender and vanilla. If not for the man—no, the boy—with her, who smelled of grass and garlic, he would not have been able to trace them. They had walked from the bus station, down the street.
Embry followed the scent, trying to give off the impression of a late night stroll to the few cars that passed him on the road. It twisted down two different streets and finally ended in front of a house. The garlic trail, he was pleased to note, did not go into the house, but continued on down the road. This was her house.
He marked it in his mind, knowing it would be important later, and left quickly.
Sam and the rest of the pack were waiting for him at Sam's house.
"Congratulations," Sam said warily.
Embry snorted. "I'm hardly in a celebratory mood. I feel like I've just been married off at the age of twenty two."
"You'll cope," Sam said firmly. He glanced fondly in Emily's direction. "And it will be worth it."
Embry swallowed, thinking of how much strife had happened in Sam's life as a result of his imprinting. He had seen how Sam and Emily looked at each other, and sure it seemed nice, but now? He was so young, too young to settle down. He rebelled at the thought of his ancient blood arbitrarily choosing him a mate. "What am I supposed to do now?"
"Remember, she'll feel just as strong a pull towards you as you do to her. She'll come to you."
"She has a boyfriend," Embry protested. His hands balled into fists.
Sam shrugged. "Can't fight fate."
