T W O
I was awakened by someone rapping at my door. I opened my swollen eyes for a teensy bit, and the dark blue of early dawn that seeped through my curtains told me that it was about 5 AM. Whoever was outside, he'd have to wait until 12 noon, the time I usually got out of bed. I closed my eyes again, ignoring the knocking, but the more I ignored it, the more it got louder and louder.
"I'm coming, damn it!" Unwillingly, I forced my eyes open, got out of bed and dragged myself towards the door. I saw Seth in his PJs the moment I flung it open.
"Do you know what the fucking time is?"
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But Emily had to leave just a while ago for the Makkah rez. She wanted me to give you this ASAP before she left." He placed a long, nearly flat box in my hands. Whatever it was that was in there could surely wait until 12 noon.
"Kay. Thanks. Bye." I swung the door closed, but just when it was about to hit the frame, I noticed a bulky, black suitcase in front of it.
"What the hell is that?" I pointed at the thing.
"It's Randy's stuff."
"Who in hell is Randy?"
"George's son."
"And what the hell are his stuff doing in front of my room?" Before Seth could even answer me, we both heard loud clogging noises, probably someone climbing up the stairs like crazy. George, the ugliest man alive, --so ugly that I pity those who have to look at his fucked up face for every stinking day-- set foot on the stair's landing in seconds, and for some reason, made a beeline towards me with all his hobo-ness.
"Leah!" He stretched his arms open, expecting me to hug him. What made him think that I will? I just eyed him from head to toe, like he was the greatest mistake on earth. The midget was only up to my shoulders, for crying out loud! He was wearing a grey sweatshirt and grey jogging pants, with his enormous belly protruding above the garters.
He put his arms down and blushed. "Sorry about that. I was too fast, wasn't I?" He chuckled. Look, moron, nothing's funny.
"Maybe this is more appropriate." He cleared his throat and offered me a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Leah Clearwater. I'm George, your mom's fiancée." I stared at his stubby hand, not shaking it and not moving an inch. There was a chunky golden ring around his fat pinkie. What a weirdo.
"Whatever. Look, why the eff are your son's stuff here?"
"We're moving in. Isn't this great!" Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. They can't move in. I'm not allowing them. The house was too small. I could barely move whenever Paul just wants to sleepover for some reason, and I knew Paul. What more with total strangers?
I was starting to tremble. Calm down, Leah. Breath in, breath out, I told myself. I can't lose my temper in front of him. I might give him a heart attack and kill him when he sees me turn into a wolf, just like how I killed dad.
"So, where are you staying?" I smiled half-heartedly.
"Beside your mom." He chirped. I started to shake even more. He's going to sleep where dad used to? He's going to have to be shred into hundreds of pieces by yours truly before that even happens. My body arched into a crouch, warming up and shaking even more violently. From the corner of my eye, I saw Seth watch me warily.
"Are you okay? Are you having a seizure?"
"No, no." I breathed in and out again, trying to send the anger away. "Anyway. What about this Randy dude? Where will he stay?"
"He's going to be your roommate. I bet you two will get along well. You don't mind sharing beds, do you?" The world collapsed at my feet. I glanced at my queen-sized bed. Back when I was human, it was too big for me, but when I underwent all the abnormal growth spurts, it was now actually too small. Randy, whoever the fuck he was, would have to sleep on my couch. He should be thankful I even let him. He must look horrible, just like his dad. I bet he inherited his oil problems, making his face sprinkled with pimples galore. I bet he was also bald, and fat, and greasy, and gross. I bet he looked like a bulldog too.
"I'll think about it. Look, I have to go back to sleep, okay? It's really nice to finally meet my mother's phone-sex pal." I turned away, stormed back into my room and slammed the door shut behind me. I tossed the box on my bed, and as it landed, the lid bounced off a bit.
I scrutinized the half-open box. There was something white in it, and it looked like cloth. Out of curiosity, I opened the box in full, and in there was something I wished for for who knows how many years.
It was the dress I saw one day in Seattle, when Sam and I were wondering aimlessly through a street full of boutiques. Then, we came across a wedding shop, and the prettiest dress my eyes have ever seen was on display on the other side of the glass window. He noticed how I couldn't stop staring at it, so he promised me that he'd get it for me on our planned wedding day, September 1, 2007.
I pulled the dress out from the box, and there it was. It was exactly how it looked like behind the glass window on that warm, summer day. It was white, strapless and long, probably up to my ankles. Soft ruffles cascaded all over the cloth that covered my hips down to my feet.
I stripped myself of all my clothing, and thrust the simple yet breathtaking dress unto my frame. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and pirouetted in delight again and again, until I felt dizzy. I was beautiful.
"I'd die just to see you in that, during our wedding." I remember him telling me that that day, kissing me fiercely in front of strangers. Once again, my tears rushed down my cheeks for the billionth time. Yes, he will see me in that dress, on September 1, 2007, but not on our wedding. He'd be seeing me in that dress, on that day, not as his wife but as the bridesmaid.
I know she didn't mean to, but Emily already took my Sam, my reason for living, and now, she's taking the wedding date. It was the only thing I had left that she didn't, but now she did. There was nothing left with me to remember him by, except for the memories.
I didn't notice it until after a few moments—I was starting to cry loudly, my tears falling down and spoiling the beautiful dress.
The door flung open, "Leah, I—" George stopped and stared at me.
"Are you okay?" He rushed to my side and started to wipe my tears away. For Pete's sake! A little privacy, please? It felt horrible—having a stranger butt into your most emotional moments and attempt to make it feel all better. With him here plus that Randy dude, I have no privacy left. Fate could take Sam, my father and everything else away, but just spare the privacy for the moments when I need to break down. I can't believe fate was taking that too.
Suddenly, I remembered this one place that no one knew of, a place I've never set foot on for the last three years. Was I ready to see it again, after years of avoiding it? I closed my eyes and tried to remember what it looked like, what the things were that happened there. For the first time, my heart didn't throb painfully. I was ready.
"I'm fine." I gently shoved George's hand away and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" He asked. I looked back and smiled.
"Away."
Well, that's the second chapter. Hang on for the third one if you want more thorough Sam-Leah moments. By the way, thanks for the generous reviews, guys! Hope you don't stop driving me to write with them. Oh yeah, just in case you care, I was listening to "Northern Downpour" by Panic! At the Disco while I was writing this.