Leah Clearwater's Epilogue
"Jacob, do you think this is going to take too much longer?" I ask Jacob. He's sitting there, on the cliff, acting like the perfect wolf everyone thinks he is. Acting like he never did anything to any of us.
"Jump off a cliff, Leah." He points below him, down to the churning water.
"Really, kid." I lie down next to him. I might as well get my revenge for these past few weeks of, just, him. Jacob and Bella.And the burning hate he felt for the copper-haired bloodsucker.
"You have no idea how hard this is for me. " Well, it's true. We all feel that way. It's been impossible for all of us. Only I'm the only one to say it. Quil and Embry are too loyal, and Sam--well, I don't want to think about Sam.
"For you? You have to be the most self-absorbed person alive, Leah. I'd hate to shatter the dream world you live in--the one where the sun is orbiting the place where you stand--so I wont tell you how little I care what your problem is. Go. Away."
It's not like his stupid little speach doesn't have any affect on me, bu I ignore him and go on, "Just look at this from my perspective for a minute, okay?" Mine and every single other werewolves' around here. He laughs. Damn. I thought I was having some effect on him. On his unshatterable calm. "Stop snorting and pay attention," I snap at him. "If I pretend to listen, will you leave?" He asks, all innocent. He has a thoughtful expression on his face and I could guess what he was thinking as if we were both wolves. I scowl, and realize I had been scowling this whole time. My whole life since Sam imprinted, probably. Scowling.
"This is making me sick, Jacob. Can you imagine what this feels like to me? I don't even like Bella Swan. And you've got me greiving over this leech-lover like I'm in love with her, too. Can you see where that might be a little confusing? I dreameed about kissing her last night! What the hell and I supposed to do with that?" Maybe a little bit of an exageration, but he deserves it. "Do I care"
God, what does it take to push him off the edge? "I can't stand being in your head anymore! Get over her already! She's going to marry that thing. He's going to try to change her into one of them! Time to move on, boy." Maybe I felt a little guilty. A little. "Shut up," he growled. I can see him edging towards the limit of his self-control. A little farther.
"He'll probably just kill her anyway. All the stories say that happens more often than not. Maybe a funeral would be a better closure than a wedding." I laugh once. Though, I must admit, being in his head if that happened woud be even worse. He would be litterally suicidal.
Ah. Finally. He is shaking, and I can imagine what is happening inside his body. Hot fire. Hot everywhere. Tremors. As he gets calm, I smile at his hands. Now, maybe, I've had my revenge.
"If you're upset about gender confusion, Leah...," He hints.
What's he getting at?
"How do you think the rest of us like looking at Sam through your eyes? It's bad enough that Emily has to deal with YOUR fixation. She doesn't need us guys panting after his, too"
Agony shoots through me. No. He couldn't. It wasn't fair. Through the pain, I can see the guilt, and am glad of it. I stumble up, to my feet. I spit in his direction, aiming for his face but probably missing, and sprint towards the forest, shaking, trembling, the red hot heat spilling through my veins, a red haze over my eyes. As I leave, just before I explode, I hear him laugh. That only speeds up my transformation. But I'm glad of it. And at least no one else is changed. The quiet. Quiet except for the animals, lucky things, and the leaves, even luckier, rustling around the forest. My hate for Jacob, at least his last words, spurs me on further, till home, where I only change back, most unwillingly, but neccisarrialy, on Sam's, dear Sam's, evil Sam's orders to give Jacob space. Why does Jacob get to have the bliss of being alone peaceful, quiet? I ask Sam that. In his mind, I see the guilt, the pain, he feels for me, which is usually hidden behind Emily, always Emily, but now it makes a breif appearance, but not enough. Never enough.