Summary: It's New Year's Eve; the best time to share a moment, no?
Character(s): Jacob Black, Leah Clearwater.
Note: This is the last story I will ever publish in 2009. Amazing. I hope you all have a wonderful year in 2010, and if anyone's drinking tonight...save some for me. Aha. Drive safely, though. Seriously.
Also: Underage smoking/drinking. Don't sue me.

Labatt Blues and Kreteks

We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day.
~~Edith Lovejoy Pierce

They're sitting out on his porch. The party inside is filled with adults, and for the teens, it's anything but fun. Leah, however, is a pretty good thief, and managed to steal two beers for them.

Jacob rolls his eyes, "We're both underage."

"So?"

He smirks, but takes the (clearly) Canadian drink, Leah already managing to pop the can open. Inside, they hear the TV blast something about "the final minute!" of the year.

"They say you're supposed to kiss someone at zero," Jacob comments, shyly glancing at Leah, "in order to keep them with you in the next year."

Leah sets her beer down, then pulls out a shabby cigarette pack labeled Djarum. She lights one up, offering it to Jacob, who declines. She shrugs, shoving it back into her pocket. "Really now? I knew about the kissing, Jake," She smiles at him, "everyone does. It's a tradition. I just didn't know why."

He nods, looking away from her, out into the forest behind his home, "Since when do you smoke?"

She makes a face, before waving him off. "I don't…smoke, per say, but I do like the smell of the smokes Sam gets me," She sees Jacob's apprehensive look, before frowning, "but he didn't pressure me or anything, I just wanted to try it out. And I liked it."

Jacob shakes his head, "You're driving yourself into an early grave, Lee." She frowns at this nickname, reminding her of Sam.

The adults start chanting, the clock at thirty. Jacob turns towards her, "Where is Sam, anyway?"

Pursing her lips, she answers, "His mom dragged him off to see family. Said he'd be back tomorrow afternoon." She rolled her eyes, "We wanted to spend the 'countdown' together, but whatever. I guess it doesn't matter."

Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…

Jacob bites his lip, looking longingly at her. At seventeen, Leah Clearwater was the most beautiful thing on the reservation, and Jacob knows that if it weren't for the fact that his father was friends with Leah's, they probably wouldn't talk at all. He's fourteen, for crying out loud; he has no chance.

Suddenly, Leah whips her head towards him, the numbers at eleven. She's been thinking about it since the kiss comment. She wonders; Sam won't mind.

"Hey, Jake," she whispers, leaning close, "seeing as I might not have Sam next year –" they both roll their eyes, the joke obvious; the couple is so in love it's a wonder he hasn't proposed yet – "how about we kiss? I'd like to have at least one man in my life."

The blood rushes to his face, and Jacob can't speak, barely managing to nod his head. Leah smiles, tilting her head even closer. Her eyes are half lidded, and she's thinking about how much she misses Sam, yet surprises herself, realizing she'd rather be spending time with Jacob casually, like normal, like now, than trying to push Sam away. She might love him, but sometimes his wandering hands were too much.

Three…

She realizes Jacob's breath is hot, making her hair sway every time he exhales. He's nervous, so she takes his hands in hers.

He smells like beer and pretzels. She smells like cloves.

Two…

He leans in, eyes closed, and finally Leah brings herself to close her own as well.

One…

Their lips touch.

"Happy New Year!"

They hear the shouts from inside the house, and Leah has to force herself to pull away from the chaste kiss. Jacob smiles at her, and she feels a blush work its way across her features.

Then, just before the adults are rushing out, pulling the kids into their arms and celebrating, she hears him say, "I hope you have a good year, Leah. I really do."

A/N: Love it? Hate it? Questions, comments, concerns, or insults? Press the review button and lay it on me.
(PS: Ciao, loves,
I'll see you next year.)