Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of Stephenie Meyers. Yeah, she's the chick that wrote Twilight and all the other books. Edward, Bella, and Jacob all belong to her. I am not associated with the owners, creators, or producers of this franchise; however, I would love to be. No copyright infringement is intended.
All chapters are in Leah's POV. Post- Breaking Dawn.
Author's Notes: This Chapter contains a flashback scene of Leah's initial transformation into wolf form. I would like to give a super-duper special thanks to cfmom, my awesome beta, who never fails to cover my rough drafts with my favorite color –red. I wouldn't have been able to do this without you. I love ya, Mama Hen! To all my readers, thanks for taking the time out to read my little story about the chick named Leah. I really hope that you enjoy it!
Playlist:
Reminisce- Mary J. Blige
Hot in Here- Nelly
Man-eater- Hall & Oates
Big Girls Don't Cry- Fergie
Chapter 2: The Long Trip Home
********
"Leah…whoever this 'Sam' fellow is…believe me, he doesn't deserve you."
Mr. Castillo's words repeated like a broken record in the back of my head. Maybe Sam didn't deserve me. Maybe Sam had missed the one good thing in his life. However, that didn't change the fact that there was still a corner of my broken heart that longed for him. That longed to be touched by him. That missed him calling me Lee-lee. He had given me that nickname after our first kiss and as painful of a reminder the name could be at times, it was as much a part of me as the surname Clearwater.
I stood at the entrance to my little cluttered workspace and stared absentmindedly at the mess that I would have to clean up before I left for the day. I plopped back into my chair, inhaling a deep breath, and buried my head onto my forearms and laid on the keyboard of my computer. The sound of the erred key stokes filled my work area as my forearms pressed down firmly against them; however, the sound was more soothing to me than the idea of heading home early.
"So, what happened in there?" Karen asked, startling me as she stepped into my cubicle and handed me a stack of manila file folders.
"What's this?" I asked, looking at the stack of folders.
"My cover," she whispered as she looked around the office. "I was on my way to the file room when I saw you and Mr. Castillo standing in his office door and I needed a reason to come over here. So…what happened?" she urged, pushing my paperwork aside to take a seat on my desk.
"He said that he's noticed that I've been exhausted and gave me a personal leave of absence. That's all," I said, handing the manila folders back. I really wish she'd find some real work to do rather than being an investigator into my personal affairs, I thought as I straightened myself and began to clear off my desk.
"Come on! I know that that's not all he said, Lee-Lee," she countered, placing the folders beside her on the desk. "He looked like he was asking you out to dinner or something," she said, trying to mask her laughter by covering her mouth with her hand.
"No, Jackass. He wasn't asking me to dinner. And since you insist on calling me Lee-lee, could you at least not call me that in public?" I said.
It bothered me that she felt so free to call me by my nickname and to address me in such an informal manner, in this very formal setting, was inappropriate. Unfortunately, Karen had learned my nickname during one of my mother's visits to the condo that we shared in Seattle, which was a superfluous Freudian slip on my mom's part. Karen felt that the name was amusing and began to call me that, despite my wishes that she wouldn't, because it displayed my softer side. Who needs a soft side in such a male dominant world?
"Now, can I please finish my work? I really need to get these ad layouts back to the editor before I leave in a few minutes."
"In a few minutes? You're leaving? How?" she asked, jumping off the desk and attempting to grab the manila folders before they fell to the floor. "We carpooled!"
"Yes, ma'am, I'm leaving. My little personal leave begins as soon as I can get these revisions back over to the editor."
"Well, hang around here and wait for me. You know that they've just opened that knew gym across the street. Go workout. Check out some cute guys as they workout. Something," she insisted. "C'mon, Leah. Wait for me?"
The tribal council had provided me with an old beat-up little house off River Road, given that I'd do all the necessary work to make habitable. However, once I had accepted the position at the Seattle Times, I realized that there was no way I would have been able to commute six hours each day back and forth to work. Karen graciously asked me to room with her in the spacious condo her parent's purchased for her after graduation. I'd accepted not only because it was closer to the office, but it also gave me a nice break from the reservation. I'd spend my weeks in the city and my weekends on the rez fixing up my little home.
"Thanks Karen, but I want to get out of here. Do you realize how embarrassing it is to talk in your sleep; especially at work? Mr. Castillo heard me," I said, looking over my shoulder at his office door. "Plus, I'm going back to the rez today and I really wouldn't mind taking the train. They've started preparing for the Potlatch Ceremony, so I wouldn't mind taking the long trip home and missing a bit of the action."
Actually, I wouldn't mind missing it all together, I thought asI turned, staring blankly at the computer monitor. Everyone on the reservation would be there. Paul and Rachel, Jared and Kim, Jacob and his half-breed, Collin, Brady, and their imprints; even Quil – the super nanny - and his 10 year-old imprint Claire would be there."
Who would want to be around all that type of love? It could really be sickening at times; especially, when you and your little brother are the only ones without an imprint. Maybe there's something in the Clearwater gene pool that prevents us from imprinting.
"Why? That sounds cool. I've never been to an Indie Potluck," she said.
"Potlatch, Karen. It's a Potlatch Ceremony," I said annoyingly. Her enthusiasm over minute things could be nauseating at times. How could someone be so happy all the time? "It's the way we celebrate our ancestors and different rites of passage, like Emily and Sam's engagement."
It felt like acid was boiling in my stomach; a completely saturated mixture of pain and jealousy. It took me years to come to terms with the idea that the love of my life would be marrying my cousin. The cousin I had introduced him to.
I should have made her stay home that weekend, I thought as I placed the pens that I had scattered during my rude awakening back into the Mickey Mouse cup on my desk. The Tribal School had taken a field trip, years ago, to a carnival in Port Angeles and Sam had won that cup for me. He was my Sam then.
"Potlatch, Potluck, who cares? I'd even bring a dish if there's going to be cute guys, and you know I don't cook," she said jokingly, effectively yanking me from my thoughts of Sam.
"Well, Karen. You're more than welcome to attend." I said. However, it would be just my luck that she'd come and my leech-lover of a brother would imprint on her. "However, I doubt that you'd find any of the guys there attractive."
"It's worth a try, right?" She was immediately excited by the invitation. "My one true love may turn out to be Indie," she said, turning and placing her hands over her chest, as she sashayed down the walkway to her cubicle.
"Right," I countered with a snort.
I had never invited Karen to the reservation before. She'd asked plenty of times, but I knew that she wouldn't find my hometown as exciting as hers.
Karen Dodson was the only child, and sole heir, to Phat Daddy Incorporated.; a small music distribution company in Southern California. She was raised in a very affluent neighborhood, and while we were in college, she'd been known for comparing every place and everything to what she'd had back home.
Once my workstation was cleaned, and the ads were submitted to the editor, I made my way to Karen's cubicle.
"Hey, I'm leaving, okay?" I told Karen, as I tapped lightly on the outside of her workstation. The girl doesn't waste any time, I thought as I stepped in to see the new male intern from accounting leaning against her desk.
"Okay, Lee-lee. I mean, Leah," she said as she stood to give me the tightest goodbye hug. "Call me if you need me, okay?"
"I will. Thanks," I said, hugging her back before I turned to head for the elevator.
Her words- call me, if you need me- reminded me of one night during college when I'd fallen asleep in her dorm room; we'd been studying for a marketing exam. I'd had the worst dream about Sam, and I had woken up in a cold sweat thoroughly shaken.
Karen was surprisingly attentive to my needs that night. She'd sat and actively listened to me - once I was able to speak. I'd ranted to her about my unrequited love for Sam, and the jealousy and hurt I'd harbored over the relationship my cousin had developed with him. She listened, and never interrupted me. I'd assumed that she had her own share of heartache when I saw my hurt slowly seep into her eyes as she possibly reflected on her own painful experiences with love and loss. However, as I vented my dusty attic of emotions, she'd never said word, but only held me as a mother holds a wounded child.
She's a good friend, intensely annoying at times, but a really good friend, I thought, reassuring myself as to why I kept her around in the first place.
I made my way to the elevator and quietly rode it down into the lobby. The damp air tickled my nose as I stepped out of the lobby door and took a deep breath. As good as it felt to get off of work early, I wasn't quite ready to go home yet and face everyone. People wondering if I was all right constantly assaulted me. I was tired of always saying, "I'm fine" to people that weren't in on the secret of imprinting. Sam and I had once been the picture of a perfect couple. It was easy to understand how outsiders couldn't grasp why I had - seemingly overnight - changed my plans from planning to marry Sam myself to watching him marry my cousin. But their sympathy to my situation didn't make things any easier on me. I was in on the secret of our tribe, and even I had trouble reconciling what had happened.
Today, I had the time to actually absorb the richness of my surroundings. Downtown Seattle was a beautiful place. It would never compare to the beauty of my home on the reservation, but I could appreciate it all the same. The trees swayed as the breeze blew through their leaves, and it was as if they seemed to wave to the sky in delight. Even the smell of the sodden grass that lined the sidewalk in front of the bus stop all seemed new to me today.
As I boarded the King County Route 30 bus, headed for Port Angeles, I'd found myself regretting that I'd turned down Karen's offer to drive me home. I suddenly remembered why I detested public transportation. The crowded buses and the number of people that would bump into you always annoyed to me.
I should have waited and rode home with Karen, I thought as the transient gentleman that sat next to me seemed unable to keep his head off of my shoulder while he slept. You can do this, I encouraged myself; praying that the cilia, which lined my nasal cavity, would regenerate after enduring such torture from the man's horrific body odor.
"Port Angeles, Clallam County Transit Center! Connections to Forks and the Quileute Reservation… next stop," the conductor called.
I moved the gentleman off my shoulder and stood up, preparing to exit the rear door of the bus. The station was jam-packed with people. My next scheduled bus isn't due to arrive for another thirty minutes, I thought as I looked at my watch, realizing that I hadn't eaten lunch yet.
I didn't want to walk too far, as I was afraid that I would miss my second bus. I came across a small deli. It was very quaint with its rustic colored palate. There were two small tables outside, which were occupied by two elderly men that were conversing over a friendly game of chess.
"What can I get for you?" the cashier asked as I walked to the counter, scanning the menu for something that was to my liking.
"Can I have the Caesar wrap, easy on the dressing, and a bottled water please?"
"Sure. Will that be all for you?"
"Yes, thank you," I replied, reaching into my bag to retrieve my wallet. Where's my wallet? I know I put it in here, I thought as I began to retrace my steps. I cleaned off my desk. I said goodbye to Karen. I paid my bus fare, and…
The transient! The sleeping bastard stole my wallet!
"Oh, no! I'm so sorry. I think that the man on the bus stole my wallet," I told the cashier as I frantically began to empty items from my bag onto the counter. "I'm sorry. I know I have some money in here. Please…just give me a second."
"Can you add a green tea with lemon and a BLT on sourdough to that? Can I also have that to go please?" a gentleman said, stepping up to the counter, as he turned to look at me. "Don't worry about it, sweetie. I've got it."
"No thank you. I've got it," I said, looking for loose change in the bottom of my bag. "I have some change down in the bottom of my bag. I can take care of it."
"Don't worry about it," he insisted as he handed the cashier a twenty dollar bill. "I know how it feels to have your wallet stolen."
"But he was asleep. At least, I thought he was asleep."
"Here's your order, sweetie," he said with a smile as he handed me my order.
"Leah. My name's Leah not sweetie."
"Well, excuse me Leah," he countered. "You're welcome and why don't you try to be a little more careful next time," he continued as he exited the deli. My eyes grudgingly followed him to the white Pontiac Grand Am that was parked directly outside the deli and I couldn't help but to notice the Navajo insignia hanging from his rearview window. Sarcastic prick!
I don't remember asking him to pay for my food anyway, I thought, setting down my lunch to put my items that were on the counter back into my bag. I thanked the cashier and headed back to my bus stop to wait.
Once I got back to the station, I found an empty bench and sat down to eat my lunch while I waited for the bus. Just as I finished the last few bites of my salad wrap, the bus pulled into the station. Luckily, I had placed the transfer from the first bus into my jacket pocket or I'd be stuck with no means to get back home.
The bus wasn't as crowded as the first bus I'd ridden first. Thank God. I found a seat, which provided an awesome view of the coastline. As I placed my bag snuggly between the window and my hip to settle in for the second half of my trip back home, my eyelids became heavier with each breath. I was completely exhausted as Mr. Castillo had pointed out earlier. There was no use in fighting it, I thought, clutching my bag securely to my side. I laid my head against the window, and seconds after my eyes closed again I began to dream.
*******
Seth had been sick for a couple of days. My mom and I made sure that he was drinking plenty fluids and that there was enough to eat stored in the kitchen, but things were strange. Dad refused to allow me into Seth's room while he was sick.
"It's very contagious, Lee-lee. I really wouldn't want you to catch what he has," my dad would say anytime I asked to be allowed to see Seth even for a moment. However, I had to admit that perhaps my parents knew what was best because I had began to feel a little sick as well.
Maybe stopping the birth control pills is what's making me sick? I thought. Small beads of sweat formed along my hairline. It'd been almost two months since my last menstrual cycle; however, I couldn't have been pregnant. I hadn't had sex with anyone since Sam and I had broken up. Maybe the stressful break-up is making me pre-menopausal, I joked inwardly.
I walked in from my night class, hoping to see my baby brother sitting in front of the television as he generally would be, but he wasn't there. I paused in the living room, and heard the thrashing sound of glass breaking echoing from Seth's room. It was the eighth day that my dad had kept my brother quarantined in his room. What could possibly be so wrong with Seth that he couldn't come out of his room for a whole week?
The mystery and suspense of this unknown illness was killing me. Seth definitely wasn't bed-ridden. I could hear him banging things against the walls and shouting profanities at my father as I had many nights before. I began to feel his fury- an almost uncontrollable rage - snowballing in the bottom of my stomach.
"Mom, why don't you do something?" I asked, setting my bag on the table as she prepared dinner. "Why is dad making Seth stay in his room like this? He obviously wants to come out. I mean, listen to him."
"That's between Seth and your father, baby," she said as she reached into the fridge. "It's best that we leave this to them. Sweetie, you don't look well yourself," she said, setting the bottle on the counter.
She touched my head with her hand, reflexively drawing it back and placing it on her chest. "Sweetie, you're hot. I think that you have a fever," she said, as a look of unease washed across her very feminine facial features.
"Mom, I'm fine," I told her. "Leave what to them?" I continued just as my father rushed out of Seth's room to answer the front door.
It was Sam, Jacob, Jared, and Paul.
"Thanks for coming by guys," my dad greeted them, leading the way to Seth's bedroom door. "He's not listening to me, anymore. Maybe you guys can explain it to him so that he can understand what's happening."
"What?" I exclaimed as I walked into the living room - infuriated. "This is bullshit, Dad!"
"Watch your mouth young lady," my mom admonished, following right behind me. "Don't you dear speak to your father like that!"
"Dad…what the hell?" I began, running to block them from entering Seth's bedroom. "Dad, are you telling me that they're allowed to see my sick little brother, but I'm not?"
I became possessed with an irrepressible rage, as a pin pricking sensation began to penetrate every inch of my skin.
"Leah, this has nothing to do with you seeing Seth, baby girl," he said softly, seeing my hurt beyond the anger I displayed. "You'll see him soon enough. He just needs to speak to Sam, sweetie."
"Seth doesn't want to speak to Sam, Dad," I said as I grabbed the door knob, refusing to give up so easily. "He wants to come out of this damn room, that's what he wants."
"Lee-lee…" Sam began, stepping from behind my dad to reach for me.
"Don't you even think about laying one fucking finger on me, Sam Uley," I retorted.
"Leah, can I please talk to you?" Sam continued, pleading with his eyes.
"We've done enough talking, Sam. I have nothing else to say to you," I said as I turned back to my father. "No one is going into this damn room until someone tells me what's going on," I continued. There was a sudden bump against the door with so much force that it'd almost knocked me to the floor.
"Come on you two, cut it out." Jacob interrupted, urging me to comply. "Leah, we need to speak to Seth."
"Sue, please?" my dad beseeched my mother. The past week had taken a lot out of him. The wear and tear of Seth's ordeal was evident on his face. "Please, come and get Leah. I don't want the guys to be forced to physically remove her from the door."
"C'mon, Leah," my mom pleaded. "Your dad knows what he's doing. Let Sam and the boys in to speak with Seth."
The room became a furnace - ablaze with my fury. I felt the scorching heat of rage filter through my connective tissue and ligaments, spurting into the marrow of my bones like molten lava.
"You're fucking kidding me, right?" I asked, looking back and forth between my parents, unable to censor my profanities in the heat of the moment. The room suddenly glazed over with a strange red tint.
"Fine, Dad!" I said, raising my hands in surrender. "Have it your way! I'm out of here!"
"Leah, please?" my mother began as I walked across the living. "Harry, get her. She doesn't look well herself."
I stalked out of the front door, slamming it behind me, as the anger rippled through my body like shock waves. I weakened at the thought of how my parents had turned on me so quickly for Sam and his friends. I clenched my fists tightly around the porch railing as I tried to steady myself. Of all people, they had to side with Sam. My stomach began to churn and the night air around me seemed to heat up immensely, as droplets of sweat ran profusely down my face and the back of my neck.
I had never been angrier in my life than I was in that moment. What's wrong with me? I wondered, raising my hands to look at them under the dim porch lamp. They were trembling uncontrollably. A panic attack? I must be having panic attack, I thought. A sudden jolt of pain rushed through my abdomen, causing me to bow over in agony as the contents of my stomach spilled on to my mother's favorite rocking chair.
I was in shock; completely horrified. The pain increased with every step I made back to the front door. The heat became unbearable, as another tear-wrenching jolt of pain shot down my spine.
"Something's wrong with me," I screamed as I fell to the floor of the porch. "Mama!"
More pain accompanied by the sound of bones snapping and flesh tearing filled the air around me as I lay in front of the door writhing in excruciating pain.
My father was the first to appear in the doorway. "No," he yelled, pausing as he grabbed at his chest. "It can't be. This is impossible."
"Leah, baby, what's wrong?" my mom said as she tried desperately to get to me. "Harry, don't just stand there. Do something!"
My father was frozen in the doorway and his face took on the palest hue that I'd ever seen his copper-toned skin acquire. "It's impossible," he said again, shaking his head, as he backed against the wood siding and slid down into a seated position in the doorway.
"Paul. You and Jacob help Harry and Sue into the house. I'll get Leah," Sam instructed the others as my mother looked on helpless. "Jared, go and remove anything that she'd be able throw or break from her room."
Sam leaned down and cupped my face in his palm. He stared at me, for a moment, with the same look upon his face as he'd had when he'd broken my heart.
"Don't you touch me, Sam," I yelped; my speech garbled by the intensity of my pain. "Get your fucking hands off me."
The agonizing pain surged through my entire body once more and I bellowed unable to conceal my torment.
"I'm just trying to help you, Leah," Sam insisted as he picked me up and cradled me securely to his bare chest; my body seized and contorted in his arms. "Please, Leah. Just let us help you."
"Sam, what's wrong with her?" Jared asked hysterically.
"What do you think, man? She's phasing!" he yelled. "Now go and do what I asked you to do." Sam's voice took on a new timbre, very authoritative in nature, and Jared responded immediately. I felt humbled at his words as well.
"No, no, no," my dad yelled from the living room as Sam carried me down the hallway to my room. "It can't be," his voice trailed off followed by a loud thud, which resonated from the living room like a sack of potatoes crashing to the floor.
"It hurts. It hurts so bad," I said as Sam laid me on the bed. My skin felt as though it had been sliced over and over by a dirty box cutter, as it touched the fabric of my comforter.
"I know, Lee-lee. I'm so sorry," Sam said, moving strands of sweat-drenched hair from my face.
It all happened in a second, but it had been the longest of my life. I felt my body explode, and a deafening growl bellowed from my throat, shattering the two small windows in my bedroom.
"Go secure Seth's room," Sam instructed Jared. I saw Jared sprint from the room, as Sam slowly backed up against my closet door.
Leah?
I heard someone call my name, but I never saw Sam's lips move. I shook my head in confusion. I'm losing my damn mind!
Leah, is that you? The voice called to me, but again it didn't appear to be Sam. I took a step forward to see if it was, in fact, Sam. He respectively took an instinctive step back.
No, Leah! Don't move. You might hurt him.
I might hurt him? I thought, suddenly aware that I had taken on a new form. Fur? Paws? No. This is just a bad dream.
This isn't a dream, Leah.
I looked at Sam once more, seeing the emotions of both fight and flight flicker across his face, I knelt down and placed my muzzle on my front paws.
It was Seth; my little brother. At that realization, my mind was flooded with images from Seth and of his bedroom. The multi-colored quilt that grandma Clearwater made for him when he was five years old was thrown across his bed. A shattered mirror hung lop-sided over his chest-of-drawers; torn posters and his crystal chess set, from his last birthday, were strewn all over the floor.
Seth, what's going on? What's wrong with me? What am I?
The legend, Leah… It was all true.
What legend, Seth?
The legend the Elders told us at the bonfires. I guess we really are descendants of werewolves.
No! I stood on all fours, bumping my head against the ceiling. It can't be!
Yes, Lee-lee! We have to calm down or we'll never change back. It's hard, Lee-lee. I can't make it stop.
Are you trying to tell me that we are… that I am...I'm a monster?
*******
Ding! Ding! "Last stop…Puyallup Sounder Station. Walking distance to the Quileute Reservation, First Beach, and connections to James Island" the conductor called, as the bus pulled into the empty station.
I woke to the buzzing sound of the loud speaker over head. I grabbed my bag and headed for the exit. The trip seemed shorter this time than it had in the past. Great. Any other time, the trip would've felt much longer than it did today.
I threw my bag on my shoulder and started my walk down River Road to the reservation. The walk was refreshing and gave me time to center myself before being required to participate in the festive preparations inundated with conversations of how perfectly in love Sam and Emily were.
As I walked by the Tribal School, I noticed there were children painting tribal masks. Young boys were running with flags and fabrics that had been given to them by their teachers. As I continued to walk down the gravel road, I saw a small group of elderly women quilting a wooing blanket for the bride-to-be that they had planned to give Emily during the ceremony. I'd walked past my little cottage home that had been given me by the tribal council and headed straight down to First Beach. As I approached, I could see Seth and a group of other guys practicing a folk dance that they were expected to perform at the Potlatch ceremony.
Although, I constantly gave my little brother hell growing up, I didn't think that I would've been able to endure the break-up with Sam or my wolf transformation without him. He was a rock, not only for me, but also for my mother after my father's sudden death. A death that, despite what everyone thought, I believed was my fault. He had already endured a great deal of trauma when Seth phased; the shock of my phasing added an additional burden to his already overtaxed body. His heart just couldn't take it.
I found a seat on a piece of driftwood and decided to hang around and watch them practice before I headed to my mom's house. There were ten guys, including Seth. However, two of them I didn't recognize. Maybe they're Makah? Of course, Emily would invite the neighboring tribes to participate in the festivities. I refuse to lock myself away in the house like some scared cat. How bad could this be? I thought. Okay, yeah…this may turn out to be worst than I thought. I saw Jacob and his bloodsucker as they approached and greeted Seth and the others.
"Well, if it isn't the Most High Alpha and his leech," I said as Jacob and Nessie walked up to greet me.
"Will you ever change, Leah?" Jacob asked as he pushed me aside to sit next me. He pulled Nessie between his legs and cupped her disgustingly iridescent thighs. "It's a wonder that people even attempt to speak to you every day."
"Well, the leech…" I began.
"Dammit, Leah!" he interrupted, as he nudged me, knocking me off the log. "Give it a break!"
"Shit, Jacob! Vamp girl knows I'm joking with her," I said, standing to dust the sand off my pants.
At least she should know; she almost ended up being my niece. Thank God, old Charlie boy was set in his ways, I thought, remembering how her grandfather Charlie and my mother dated for a while after my father died. However, my mother refused to leave the reservation and instead assumed my father's place on the council; Charlie refused to leave the police force and move to the reservation. It had to be divine intervention at its best!
"Jake, it's okay," Nessie added, her brows furrowed, as she placed a hand on his chest staring me directly in the eyes. "I'll go. Aunt Alice is with Emily looking at floral arrangements for her wedding. I'll see if they need my help."
You bitch!
"Sure, sure babe," Jake said as she leaned down and began to kiss him passionately, weaving her fingers into his hair.
"Ah hum," I said, attempting to break them from their very common display of affection. "There's a place with four walls that I believe would be perfect for such an activity. I mean…really! I would really like to keep my lunch down," I continued and turned my head.
They continued for several minutes as if they hadn't heard me at all. I felt the sting of jealousy began to pierce through my chest, attempting to rob me of my air supply. Although I sometimes felt that the whole imprinting thing was fictitious, I couldn't deny that what Jake and Nessie had was in fact true love. I'd seen it plenty of times in their eyes. The intensity of their emotions for each other would illuminate their eyes as if they were seeing each other for the first time.
It was completely unbearable at times. How I longed to have experienced that with someone. I thought that I'd had that with Sam. I did have that with Sam…ages ago.
"Hey," Jake said, finally pulling himself away from Nessie, and smacking me on my back. "So…" he trailed off.
"What?" I asked even though I had a feeling where the conversation was headed. I wasn't sure if I was ready to address it.
"So, how are you holding up? I mean…I know this must be hard for you."
"Please, Jake. You were the last person I was expecting this from. I'm fine. I've been fine with this whole thing for a long time now."
"But how are you holding up, for real, Leah?" he paused and looked at me. "I thought that we were able to talk to each other," he said, cocking his head to the side.
He was right. Jake and I had become quite close over the years. I had been the one to console him when he was struggling with the idea of his precious Bella married and giving birth to his little leecher. I'd been the one to encourage him. I'd been the one to tell him that it would get easier with time; that the pains of watching the one you love live their life with someone else would eventually fade.
"I'm holding on," I said, pushing a loose strain of my hair behind my ear. "I can't lie and say that it's been a piece of cake, Jake. I mean…I really don't have to tell you how it feels. Do I?"
"No you don't, but you're strong, Leah. You'll make it through this," he said, leaning over to nudge me on the shoulder. "Plus, if you'd asked me, I think Sam is missing out. You're much sexier than Emily."
"Well, I didn't ask you, and you might not want your little half-breed hear you say something like that."
"Ness? I'm not worried about Nessie," he said with a snort. "She knows what she has. She knows I only have eyes for her.
"Exactly, Jake," I said, the pain gnawing at the jagged edges of my heart like acid on plastic. "Why haven't I found someone? Why haven't I imprinted? Didn't you say that once you imprinted on Nessie, that the romantic feelings you had for Bella were erased? Maybe if I…" I trailed off, biting back the sobs that were sure to erupt if I continued.
Get yourself together Leah, I urged myself.
I stood up and walked over to the edge of the shoreline where the cool waters encircled up and around my feet.
"Wow, Leah. I, um," Jake said as he walked over, and stood next to me crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything, Jake," I said, turning to face him. "What could you possibly say? There's nothing you could say that would change who I am or what I am."
He cocked his head to the side, and the sincerest look of empathy etched across his face as he pursed his lips. He knew that there was nothing he could say to ease my pain. A pain that only time could heal. A pain that I truly wish time would begin heal.
"Maybe," he began hesitantly. "Maybe, you haven't come across the right person, but we're not even sure."
"Not sure that I'm even capable of imprinting?" I asked, interrupting him before he could complete his sentence. "Yeah, I know. I'm hopeless, right?"
"No. We're not sure that you won't run the poor guy off before you have a chance to imprint. C'mon, Leah. You can be pretty bitchy…most of the time," he said, fighting back a smile, and wrapped his big arm around my neck.
"Whatever, Jake! I can't help it if men are intimidated by me," I countered with a laugh, and a punch to his stomach.
He was always unsettled by intense conversations. I knew deep down that Jake understood my agony. He knew first-hand what I was going through, and he only wanted to help.
"Intimidated? Is that what you think?" he paused and laughed. "Leah, guys around here tremble with fear when anyone says your name."
"Now, that's not true Jacob Black!"
"Yeah, Leah. It is true. Okay, maybe a bit exaggerated, but true anyhow," he said. His arm fell lazily across my shoulder, and we both stared into the expanse before us watching the sun as it began its retreat behind the ocean.
"Hmm, well maybe that's a good thing," I said with a shrug. "Men ought to know that I'm not one to be played with."
Over the years, Jake had become more of a second brother to me. Despite his better judgment, he decided to allow Seth and me to remain a part of his pack We alternated with Sam's pack to give each other a break running patrols. However, since I'd been working for the Seattle Times, Jake hadn't bothered me about it.
"Hey Leah," Jake said never breaking his gaze at the ocean. "Can I ask you for a favor? I mean, I know that you're working now and all, but I'm going to need your help this weekend."
"Okay, Mr. Alpha. Lay it on me." Jake and I didn't see eye to eye on everything, but I'd do almost anything for him.
"Alice is having a dinner party this weekend and has invited guests." Great now we're back to being the Cullen's watch dogs. "They should be arriving either today or tomorrow and I need your help to run patrols," he said gripping my shoulder tightly.
"I don't know. I'll see," I said hesitantly with a smirk. "I'd consider it only if I can run the far north perimeter. The stench of bloodsuckers does horrible things to my precious sinuses."
He smiled.
"Listen, don't you even think about making this a habit. I'm only agreeing to do this because I have the rest of the week off."
"Thanks, Lee-Lee," he said, resting his cheek in my hair. "I really appreciate it."
Chapter End Notes: I have never been to the state of Washington so researching the correct bus routes from Seattle to La Push was a pain in the ass. However, if you're reading and are familiar with the area, I hope that I got it right. The insight into Leah's initial transformation was inspired by a New Moon outtake featured on .com. The historical and cultural information regarding the Potlatch ceremony was found at .org. However, I do plan to dive into the full ritual head-first in a latter chapter, so keep your dancing shoes close. Again, thanks to all my readers for taking the time to check out my fic. I truly appreciate your support. A shot-out to KariAnn, Lisa, Mari and all my fellow DHGs, I'm glad that you've decided to patronize me by reading; your checks are in the mail. ;) Your continued support makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Please leave your constructive comments and/or criticisms. I would love to hear what you think! It will only aide in me becoming a better writer, so lay it on me!
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