See, the thing about being a werewolf is that everyone expects you to be a hero. It's part of the job description. And it should be easy. You're bigger than everyone else, you're stronger and faster. The hearing, the night vision… Superhero type stuff, if we're being honest. And as if that weren't enough, when you want to, you can shape shift into a wolf roughly the size of a Volkswagen. That's GOT to make you the bravest dude on Earth.
Only it doesn't.
All I could think, once I was able to shift back to my person-self and start sifting through the chaos in my head in private for the first time, was that I couldn't possibly do it. I wasn't like them. I wasn't Sam, born with Ye Great and Fearless Leader tattooed on my forehead, or Jacob who took everything in stride like it wasn't forty shades of freaky, or even Paul, who was just too much of an asshole to be afraid of anything.
I was just Seth. I was the sidekick, the little brother, the comic relief.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not a coward. When my mom sees a big,hairy spider behind the toilet, who's in there on all fours mashing it into a paste while she dances around behind me squealing? That would be me. And I was never afraid of the dark when I was a kid. Never thought there were monsters under the bed. That was Leah.
Because I didn't believe in monsters. But wouldn't you know it, they're REAL. And I was born to fight them. Mash 'em into a paste behind the metaphorical toilet so the good people of Forks/La Push can sleep well at night.
Only Taha-Aki or whoever it was that put my name on the werewolf roll call apparently didn't know that I'm kind of a wuss. I've never told anyone, but the reason I never screamed on a roller coaster is because I'm so god damn terrified that my throat clenches up and I couldn't make a noise if I had to. I just keep getting on the stupid death traps thinking someday I'll finally throw my hands in the air and scream like a little girl and it'll feel amazing.
Which brings us to back to being a werewolf. I turned into a wolf for the very first time last night, when the moon wasn't even full, and tonight they expect me to do it again. Truth be told, I had to fight to control it all morning. I can feel it under my skin, itching and tingling, almost like the time I got poison ivy. And I'm jittery all the way down to my bones. I wanted to rage and scream and throw things at the walls, but instead, I sat in my room, staring at the rain and crumpling and uncrumpling pieces of paper I tore out of my algebra notebook until they disintegrated.
I was terrified that the Cold Ones, who were REAL, would attack the reserve and Sam and the others would wade in there like heroes to fight them off and I'd be standing in the back, frozen, staring all bug eyed and stupid. Can you be fired from being a werewolf? See, I don't think so. So, maybe they would have just demoted me to hanging around the junkyard at night and scaring off thieves and vandals. You don't have to be brave to do that when you're the stuff of nightmares. Nightmare junkyard dog.
And so I snuck out of my room to go for a walk. I think I was headed to Jacob's place. I could always talk to Jacob. Whether I found him or not, I felt like I would explode if I didn't get out and get moving. Literally explode.
I was walking past the daycare when it happened. You know how they say things happen in slow motion? I don't know that it seemed like it at the time, but I can still remember every fraction of a second of what happened clear as crystal, as if the memory at least is in slow motion.
A group of little kids and their moms were on the sidewalk and one of the boys yanked his hand out of his mother's and ran into the street to chase a bird. A rusty old Datsun was rattling and wheezing its way around the corner. It was the new werewolf reflexes, I know, that made me gauge the speeds and distances and realize all at once that the boy was in trouble. But I didn't turn into a wolf and slay the Datsun and I remember being scared as hell, so I truly believe it was all Seth that darted out there and snatched him up and held him tight as the car rolled by.
His mother was crying and the others were just staring at me, frozen, and I was staring back all bug eyed and stupid. But I didn't freeze. I put the kid down in front of his mom and muttered something about having to be somewhere and stuffed my hands in my pockets and kept on walking with a big crazy grin on my face.
And now I feel like a god damn hero. I figure, someday, and someday soon from the sound of things, I'm going to be face-to-face with the bad guys and whether or not I'm scared as hell, ole Wolfman Seth is gonna pull his weight in that fight. HELL yeah.
And next time I get on a roller coaster, dammit, I'm going to SCREAM.