Chapter two. Um, trés bon. Sorry it took so long to get up—I was lazy. Anyway, enjoy, and thank you to everyone who reviewed last time. Now, to reply to some of said reviews…
Atom: We really should—and thanks!
Hzl: It annoys me, too. Seriously, what was the point of putting her in the books, just to have a torture pawn? And exactly—everyone else got happy endings except for her. Thanks, though—Leah does deserve her happy ending. I'm going to give it to her. Hmm, maybe I should send this to Stephenie Meyer or something… XDDD
Devilstail: BD was terrible, I thought. Everything was all happy and rainbows and ponies, except for Leah, because she's 'omgtehbitch' for yelling at Bella, who deserved it. Thanks so much—I couldn't stop grinning when I read your review; it made me so happy. 8D
Shrumie: Don't worry about it; that's just Leah's… sort of warped view on things. Really? You actually like the title? It fits the story, just because the solstices are the most extreme days of the year, and these are the most extreme points in Leah's life… ah well, whatever. I don't like it much.
Tina: Wow. Thanks. Yeah, Leah's my favorite character, too. And yeah, the whole conception of Renesmee and such was incredibly stupid.
Empress Guinevere Sparrow: Thanks. After this chapter and the next, the plot will actually start, so… yeah.
Thunder Skies: Thanks. This fandom does need more good Leah stories, which is partially why I wrote this. I only found one or two good ones when I looked.
It was really nice to get so many positive reviews, although I would have liked some concrit. Oh well. On with the chapter.
II
HOW LONG AM I GOING TO HAVE TO WAIT? OH, RIGHT, I'M ME, WHICH MEANS FOREVER.
I was smart this time.
Not smart, exactly, but I had learned my lesson. I stripped before phasing, then rolled my clothes into a bundle and tied it to my ankle with a blade of grass. I highly doubted that it would hold, but I could always rip off a nice, thick piece of Embry's fur and use that instead.
I laughed at my own joke, grinning as I pictured Embry squealing in pain as I tore the hair from his back. Quil saw that, and wasn't pleased, but he didn't say anything about it, luckily. I really wasn't in the mood to take him down.
It was weird to not to have any snarky, sarcastic comments. My only audience now was Quil, and he was determinedly quiet—probably just wanted to finish the patrol quickly so he could get back to Claire. I wanted it done fast, too, but not for the same reason.
I hated spending one-on-one time with anyone, just because it was unnerving. I was used to my thoughts being made a spectacle of. Quil wasn't formulating some kind of witty rebuttal, nor was he trying to tune me out. That was a change. Actually, he was nicer than I gave him credit for, not that I was going to admit that.
All right, I grumbled, sounding more like my normal, nasty self. Let's go already.
Okay. There was a rustling in the bushes beside me, before the briars parted to make way for a large, chocolate-brown wolf, ears straight up in attention.
Here he is, the poster boy for Hershey's chocolate, I thought, my lips curling into a grin.
Ha. Funny. He shook his head impatiently, and I got the feeling that the cracks on his fur were getting old. I'd have to get some new material. There was plenty of it. The only bad thing was, I couldn't even tease Quil about Claire. I hated to admit it, but I was jealous of him, and this I hated to admit even more: he'd grind me to a pulp.
Exactly right, he growled.
If you could catch me first, I retorted.
I'd do it before you even had the chance to run.
Like to test out that theory, lover boy?
Ugh. A new voice joined us. Put a lid on it, gu—you two. I'm serious; one more argument and you both are going back to La Push.
Try and make me. I stiffened, even though I knew that Jacob was far away; he'd probably phased to check on us. I wondered why he'd made me second-in-command if he still didn't trust me.
I do trust you, Leah.
What a laugh. I let out a bark of amusement.
Quil tensed beside me, ready to spring at one more word. He obviously didn't like us fighting any more than Jacob did.
You shouldn't be fighting with the Alpha, he growled, his eyes narrowing at me.
Then don't fight with me. Good. That shut him up.
But not Jacob. You two are giving me a headache. Just finish the patrol as quickly as you can and you don't have to deal with each other anymore.
Fine, I snapped.
Fine, thought Quil brusquely. He straightened, coming out of his crouch. Jacob's voice disappeared, and I assumed he'd phased back. Probably to spend some time with Renesmee, I suspected. I was glad—Jacob had heard me ragging on the object of his imprinting once and had been this close to kicking me out of the pack.
I wish he would've, muttered Quil. You shouldn't make fun of things you don't understand.
I understand plenty. I really didn't want to have this conversation, so I started walking away to begin the patrol, expecting Quil to follow me. He didn't.
No, you don't, he thought. If you did, you wouldn't hate Sam so much for imprinting on Emily.
What? It took me a moment to register his words before the anger welled up and spilled over. But underneath the seething heat of fury, there was a deep pool of hurt. Why did he have to bring them up again? I'd been so close to momentarily forgetting. I grappled with my rage, and lost, dropping into a crouch position and preparing to spring. A deep snarl ripped from my chest, but faltered out in the end as a searing ache cut through me. My hurt weakened my anger, though it was still strong enough for me to lunge forward, towards the brown wolf that was standing in front of me.
But even Quil realized he'd gone too far. He dodged away, and I skidded on the leaves, trying to stop myself before I hit full-force into the tree opposite where I'd been standing. Sorry, he apologized quickly. Really, I am. That was…over the top.
You think? The pain in my voice marred the attempted sarcasm. I allowed the fur to lay flat on my shoulders as I regained my balance, sinking my claws firmly into the ground. It was funny to remember that I'd actually thought of Quil as nice a mere few minutes ago. I definitely wasn't giving him that rep now.
Sorry, he thought again. He nudged my shoulder with his nose, but I shook him away. I didn't need or want his sympathy. He didn't care about me—like everyone else, he only pitied me.
Let's go, I growled, taking off at a run through the bushes. I could smell the muted scents of prey, weak in comparison to the overwhelming reek of vampire. Hopefully, our patrol would take us far enough away to soothe the burning in the back of my throat. My claws tore through the blades of grass, and the thin, thorn-embossed branches of briar scrubs.
I don't pity you, Leah, he thought between pants, coming up behind me, trying in vain to keep my pace.
Forget it. I whipped my head around and really kicked it into gear, spraying him with a shower of dirt as I turned abruptly.
Really, I don't. I don't understand what you must be going through, but…I can guess. I can only imagine what it would be like if Claire…, his thoughts trailed off. Probably too afraid to finish—oh, if his precious Claire didn't love him back! Whatever would we do? How would we go on?
Just shut up, Quil. I don't need your comfort. Let's just get this stupid patrol over with.
As requested, he abruptly stopped that particular train of thought. We ran along in silence, following the trail of fresh scent from our pack. The smell was only overrun in some places the slight smells of deer and other, smaller, insignificant prey. I kept my thoughts directed only on the patrol, concentrating solely on finishing it without trouble.
Suddenly, it was as if I had smashed into a wall. A fresh, too-familiar scent crossed the path and I skidded to a halt, inhaling in shock. It took me a moment to identify the smell, but when I did, I could feel my eyes widen in shock and revulsion.
Jared! Quil and I thought at the same time. We both stood there for a moment, gaping in shock at each other, before I calmed myself enough to think about it logically.
Why did he come over the line? I growled. Great. This was the last thing I wanted to deal with—a La Push wolf; especially one that didn't like me. I tensed, ready to go after him. Now that I thought about it twice, it would actually be very stress relieving to sink my claws and teeth into something bigger than a deer—and able to put up more of a fight.
I don't know. Quil was silent for a moment, thinking, and I tried to ignore his thoughts to follow my own, but it was impossible. I settled for waiting for him to address me directly. Do you think he wanted to join our pack?
I tried to reason my way through that. Jared and Jacob had been good friends; it was possible that he simply missed him. It was also possible that Sam had done something to break the alliance to between the two of them. I'd expected something like that. Sam was certainly capable of it; I'd experienced firsthand his ability to break bonds. I uttered a growl under my breath at the thought, then shoved it forcibly out of my head. I wasn't going to bring up more shit to torture myself. But would Jared have the strength to leave Kim? Had he ever gone a day without seeing her since he'd imprinted?
But Kim doesn't even live at La Push, Quil thought, interrupting my careful logic. That means he could be coming to join us! I could see him squealing with delight at the very thought.
Shut up. That doesn't mean he's coming to join us, I snapped. Why was he so jazzed to have Jared join us? Our pack was big enough, and just when I was warming my way into the little group—Jacob and his two wingmen, Quil and Embry—Jared would come in and disrupt it. He's probably here on orders from Sam, to spy on us. The fur on my hackles rose at the very thought. I was already persuading myself of the worst—and I was fully convinced that Sam was capable of something so low.
Then I rethought it. It wouldn't be like him to send only Jared over, especially judging from his close connection to Jacob. He was smarter than that, I admitted with revulsion. He wouldn't take any chances of lessening his numbers. He would be too afraid that Jared would break ranks and join our pack.
Told you, thought Quil, slightly smug. He gave a small, happy yip and twirled into the air joyously.
Okay, Fluffy, I thought, sneering at his behavior. He was such a pussy. Let's go see what he's up to.
I started up at a steady pace, following Jared's zigzagging trail. When I heard Quil's heavy paw steps behind me, I sped up, determined to beat him to our surprise visitor. Quil would immediately start yapping away all of our secrets—there was still a possibility that he was sent to spy on us—and ask him to join us. I got little more than no respect among the wolves of our little pack, despite being officially announced as second-in-command. Besides, it would be amusing to scare the hell out of Jared—his careless, twisting trail made it obvious that he was not aware of our pursuit. I sniffed the air; we were downwind and he wouldn't smell us.
We were getting closer; I could hear Jared's raspy huffs as he skirted through the undergrowth, though he was still a good fifty yards ahead. Separate, I commanded Quil. Take his left flank, and I'll take his right.
What? Quil's thought was shocked. We're attacking him?
He's looking for trouble, I snapped. If he was really coming here on his own, he would be smart enough to come as a human. He knows we wouldn't attack him if we saw that he was human.
Quil growled under his breath, but immediately dipped to the side and disappeared into a bush. I skirted to the right, keeping my steps even as I launched myself forward through the undergrowth. I saw Jared then, enormous muscles bulging beneath his tawny coat. He realized I was there a split second too late, and I smashed into him, knocking him to the side. Normally, I wouldn't have been able to put him down so easily, but he'd been distracted by Quil, coming up conspicuously on his left side. I sighed. He hadn't done what I'd asked, but at least we'd gotten the job done.
Jared twisted back to his feet and lunged towards me. I was so surprised that I only dodged out of the way just in time, though his claws still grazed my flank. I snarled, then thought quickly to Quil, Help me, you idiot!
Okay! He launched himself towards Jared and hit him in the shoulder. The larger wolf howled as he skidded on the wet leaves before flopping over on the ground, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily.
I remembered then that we wouldn't be able to communicate with Jared in our wolf forms, now that our loyalties lay divided. We would have to phase back. The inconvenience of the whole pack split annoyed me then, but I quickly remembered how much better it was this way.
You phase and get dressed first, and I'll keep an eye on him, suggested Quil. Then you can watch while I change.
Okay, I agreed, slinking back into the bushes warily, my eyes still on Jared. He had sat up on his haunches, paws out in front of him in an apologetic gesture. I didn't buy it for a second, and changed as quickly as I could. When I returned, I saw that he had not shifted positions.
Quil darted back to change and I watched Jared very carefully. He looked different. His fur was the same dark tawny, his shoulders still broad and his build still large, but there was a new, haunted, guilty sort of look in his yellow eyes. Sympathy crept hesitantly towards me, but I shoved it away. I had never liked Jared, and he had never liked me. No way he was going to get me to feel sorry for him. Not a chance.
As Quil strutted back into the clearing, I saw Jared disappear behind a bush and cried out—where the hell did he think he was going? But he reappeared quickly, changed and fully clothed. He looked very different, of course, but the same haunted look never left his now-brown eyes.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, my voice a low growl.
Jared put his hands up in the air, surrendering. "Take it easy, Leah. I've come to help you."
"And what makes you think your help is wanted or needed? We're doing perfectly fine here without you, thank you very much."
He bit his lip, and I had to shove sympathy away again. "I can't take it over there anymore, Leah. Sam's gone crazy."
My heart slowed to a dragging, broken beat, and icy claws gripped at my stomach. "Sam?" I repeated, aching to keep concern out of my voice but not quite managing it.
"Yeah. He misses you all—especially you, Leah."
Lies. He was trying to guilt me into going back to La Push. Sam had tried it before, and it hadn't worked then. The hell it was going to work now.
Quil hadn't spoken yet, and now he did, his voice full of worry and remorse. "Is…is he all right?"
Jared scratched his head. My heart stuttered again in my chest, and I wondered how it was still managing to keep beating. "It all started the night after those royal bloodsuckers came. You all went back to the Cullens', and we went back to La Push, of course." He hesitated. "Collin and Brady were on patrol. Only Paul and I came over to Emily's."
I winced. He continued. "Emily was pretty pissed that Sam wasn't able to convince you to come back. She misses you too, you know, Leah."
More lies. I didn't believe it. "The hell she does!" I snarled. "Can't she just be happy that she has Sam? Can't she just be happy that she took him away? Why does she want me back, so she can torture me some more?"
Jared winced this time. "Sam's not the only important thing in her life, Leah. She still considers you her sister. She loves you. She really does."
I snorted.
"She blew up about it—it was really weird, because you know how she is, usually she's calm and gentle, but she was mad."
Quil stared. "Emily blew up? At Sam?" He looked shocked beyond belief.
"Yeah. Weird, right?"
"You're telling me."
I digested everything that he'd told me so far, and my stomach thumped guiltily. As much as I hated Sam and Emily's relationship, I couldn't help feel bad that I'd driven a wedge between them. He had everything that he wanted—why couldn't he just be happy? I loved him enough that I wanted that for him. I'd given up hope long ago that he'd come running back for me. All I wanted now was for Emily and him to live together happily and forget about me.
Jared cleared his throat. "So, Emily started crying after that, saying that her whole family had been driven apart and whatnot. Sam was so disgusted with himself that he couldn't even bring himself to comfort her."
It took me a minute to pinpoint the source of déjà vu, but I finally managed it. It was like history repeating—how Sam and Emily got together in the first place. I swallowed the acidic taste that rose at my throat. How could I live with myself if I was the reason for their end?
Jared saw the look on my face and said, "Don't worry; they made up a few days ago. Sam's still crazy, though. You know how he felt guilty about you before, Leah, but this is worse. He's upsetting himself and Emily at the same time, and he knows that there's nothing he can do about it."
Before I could speak, Quil asked the question that had been bubbling to my lips. "What exactly is he…doing?"
"He…" He hesitated again. "He's not the same Sam at all. He's like a ghost. He gives orders and patrols and all, but it's like he's not even there. He's always quiet, like he's lost in thought or something. And there's always this tortured look in his eyes."
I tried to swallow that. I couldn't. Acid rose in my throat again, like I was about to puke, and, suddenly, I was disgusted by myself. I was doing this to Sam; it was my fault. I was being stupid and selfish by staying here.
No, you're not, that self-respecting fragment of my brain argued. You're trying to put your life back together; is that such a bad thing? Shouldn't Sam and Emily want you to do the best for yourself?
There I was, arguing with myself again. It could go either way—shouldn't they want the best for me, and shouldn't I want the best for them? My head spun in confused circles as I tried to piece together the real question—who was going to have to suffer?
As soon as I thought of the question, I knew the answer. Me. It was always me. It was always me who got the worst end of the stick. There was nothing different about this time. I was going to grudgingly sacrifice my semi-happiness (the most that I had managed in a long time) for Sam and Emily. Again. It really was like history repeating.
And I felt so bad for myself. I honestly did. I felt as if answering "yes" would be truly giving of myself. I choked back a sob. As much as I didn't want to, I knew that I would have to say yes. I knew that I would have to go back to La Push. I would have to tear myself away from the happiness that I'd had and tend to Sam.
Sam.
Sam.
Sam. Sam. Sam.
Emily. It was impossible to think of one without thinking about the other. They were like two flowers, stems intertwined. Cut one, and both would die.
Where did I factor into the equation? Maybe I was the dead flower, already ripped from the ground, my petals brown and cracked, my roots torn, lying mangled on the sidelines, waiting for someone, something to pick me up and put me a jug of cool water.
Was it fair that I had to love them both, too? The beautiful flowers? Was it fair that I had to care so much for Sam and Emily?
Life isn't fair.
Damn right, it wasn't. But there was really no choice, now that I thought about it. I replayed the flower scene in my head. The dirty, mangled flower decomposed onto the ground into a pile of soft, powdery dirt, forming the foundation on which the beautiful flowers would be replanted. A foundation; a stepping stool for Sam and Emily. A pawn.
A flower hacked half to fucking death.
I couldn't swallow that one, either.
Maybe I was dramatizing the whole thing. Maybe Jared was dramatizing the whole thing as a way to squirm his way into our pack. I glanced back up at him. The haunted look in his eyes made it impossible to doubt his story. My stomach tightened. I was sold on my answer now.
"I…" I hesitated. The words that I was about to speak would bring about my fast decomposition into just a pile of dirt. God, I was really overplaying this whole flower thing. "I'll come back."
Jared looked up, his eyes sparkling. The change in his features was both stomach wrenching undeniable. "You will?"
I sucked in a breath. "Yeah. Fine. Now let's just get out of here."
Jared grinned from ear to ear. "I didn't think I'd ever say this, but, for the moment, I love you, Leah!"
For the moment. Just for the moment. That was a pretty painful blow, not because I particularly cared about Jared, but because it was a subtle reminder of my short-lived relationship with Sam. I couldn't even begin to count the times he'd say he loved me, but he'd negated it all. Short-lived? I couldn't even remember how long it had been. A year? Two? It was hard to count. I shook my head, trying to free it of the memories.
I finally managed a normal response. "Whatever. Let's carry our asses out of here."
"Wait!" cried Quil. "What about the pack, Leah? What about Jacob? And Seth?"
I winced, but he didn't seem to notice. "The pack can manage without me," I muttered. "Just be sure to tell Jacob he's an idiot on a daily basis."
"Yeah. I'm sure he'll miss hearing that."
I coughed a very forced laugh. "See you, loser." I turned to leave, Jared following me closely.
"Leah—are you sure you want to do this?"
"Sure, sure." God. I'd even picked up that patronizing response from Jacob. I winced again. It so didn't sound convincing. Quil frowned.
"Positive?"
"I said I was sure, didn't I?" I snapped, whirling around. "What do you want out of me, a confession?"
"No. I just can't understand why you're doing this."
"I'm going to be the dirt, moron. I'm always going to be the dirt." I mentally slapped myself. That stupid flower thing had definitely gone to my head. Quil looked slightly puzzled, but didn't say anything else. Maybe, on some level, it did make sense to someone who hadn't followed my exact train of thought a few minutes ago.
"If you're sure…" I glared at him. "I… I'll tell Jacob that we're going to need a new second-in-command. But I get the feeling that he'll hold the position for a while…in case you ever come back."
I lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "He can do whatever he wants. He doesn't have to wait around for me. I'm gone." I turned again, this time for good, and stalked off towards the forest. I didn't look back to see the expression on Quil's face. I just disappeared into the bushes.
"How far is the line?" I asked Jared, who was still grinning broadly, grouchily.
"Uh." He glanced around, then inhaled sharply to taste the air. "A good few miles, I'd say."
"Great," I groaned. "That'll take us forever like this."
"Phase quickly," he suggested. "I won't look."
I believed him, but I still didn't feel comfortable stripping in front of him. Instead I sulked back behind a few nearby trees, took off my clothes, and changed. I didn't even have to wait to phase—I was emotional enough that my transformation into a girlie-wolf was almost immediate.
As I stalked back into the clearing, I saw that Jared had changed while I had been gone. In his place stood a huge tawny wolf, his lips still pulled back into a moronic, wolfy grin. I wanted to slug him and tell him to wipe that stupid smile off his face, but I didn't have to energy for any snappy remarks. I suddenly realized how tired I was. I hadn't looked in a mirror in ages, but I imagined that I looked pretty shitty, especially my eyes. Dark circles, just like the bloodsuckers.
I crouched down, preparing for the leap that would catapult me into the bushes. Each long jump would take a lot of energy, but it would be better than a continuous sprint. I readied myself, then shot forward like a dart, my spring carrying me farther than I thought possible. When it was clear that I was coming to a halt, I shoved my paws out in front of me and skidded to a stop on the ground.
I stood there, panting, as Jared scurried to my side, his long, pink tongue lolling out on the edge of his mouth. I tensed and readied myself for another leap, springing forward once again before skidding to a halt in a gorse bush.
Jared got to my side and barked a raspy laugh when he saw me trying to un-stick myself from the thorns. I growled at him, the most threatening noise I could manage, as I tugged my tail free.
The rest of the journey was passed fairly quickly, which was really unfortunate for me. I was dreading returning to La Push, and I was dreading seeing Sam and Emily—no matter how happy they would be to see me. Jared was quiet, evidently sensing that I wanted to be left alone. His thoughts were trivial—he was anxious to see Sam and Emily's improvement, and also anxious to see Kim.
But he left me alone, and I was glad, since I appreciated the silence as a chance to think. I was very tired, not only physically, but emotionally. My heart was poor, ragged, and worn-out from loving so indisputably but unrequitedly. I had absolutely no hope whatsoever that my life would turn out okay—and it seemed that fate was itching to prolong that life. I'd tried on numerous occasions to quit, but, naturally, I hadn't been able to.
At that moment, I was very glad that Jared couldn't hear my thoughts anymore. Since my loyalty had changed, the two packs' minds' were no longer connected. But once my loyalty shifted back to Sam, I would never be left in peace.
I wondered if things back in La Push would be different—would the pack treat me with respect, for once, since I had done them a great service. Somehow, I doubted it.
I wallowed in self-pity for the remainder of the journey, before the little scattering of houses along the beach came into sight. I slowed down, my steps dragging as I tried to waste time. At least it wasn't raining. That would have been worse.
Naturally, at that very moment, it started to pour.
The icy droplets pelted down around me, flattening my fur against my back. I sighed, an enormous huff, as I slipped back into the bushes to change. My clothes were soaked, of course, but, at that point, everything was so messed up that I couldn't have cared less about wet jeans. I changed as slowly as possible before walking back to Jared. He'd changed as well, and was waiting for me in the clearing.
Sympathy was in his eyes. I wanted to slug him.
"Ready, Leah?" he asked.
I nodded curtly. "Let's just get this over with," I growled. I began walking. Once we were out of the shelter that the trees provided, the rain was so much worse. I was soaked to the skin, and it felt like every internal inch of my body was wet. One of the many drawbacks of living in Forks was the rain. Constant rain—it made me sick to see how much water could pour down at once. Sans the werewolves and vampires, Forks was still a freaky place.
Even in the blinding rain, I knew which house was Sam's, and it sent a pang through me to remember. I dragged myself towards the tiny cottage, being deliberately slow half because I was so exhausted, half because I was dreading the confrontation so much.
I climbed up the steps to the porch and leaned against the side of the house, catching my breath. God, I was so tired. If I could have, I would have just slid down and slept there on the wet porch. Instead, I raised my hand and knocked three times.
The response was immediate. In a matter of seconds, the door swung open, nearly hitting me in the face. I wouldn't have noticed. The pain that I felt when I stared at the all-too-familiar face was a thousand times worse than if the door had hit me.
Deep, dark circles were prominent beneath Sam's dull, dark eyes. Lines were etched across his face, and even though he couldn't age, he looked ten years older. And I wanted to cry when I saw the look of hopeless defeat on his face.
Thankfully, the despair gracing his features quickly turned to happy disbelief, and before I knew what was happening, his arms were around me, tighter than a vice, squeezing me as if he'd never let me go. I almost hated him then. Why did he have to remind me? Couldn't he tell that simple hug hurt me so much more than it helped me? Couldn't he remember the memories connected to that hug that I could?
The sun was just setting behind the row of evenly clipped trees on the horizon. The glow from it was a bright, brilliant orangey yellow, with only occasional streaks of darker red near the base. The rest of the sky was glowing with a paler shade of gold, but it seemed as if the whole forest was on fire.
I sat beside Sam and watched. I was never one to be intrigued by the beauty of sunsets, beauty that I had normally seen as trivial, but this time, I was so fascinated by it that I couldn't take my eyes off the fiery brilliance.
I finally tore my gaze away and looked at Sam, who was watching me rather than the sunset. He looked amused, but slightly smug, and I knew why.
"I knew you would like it," he said, but his voice was gentle, not gloating.
"Fine," I admitted grudgingly. "You were right. For once," I added, only teasing.
His face changed, his mouth turning down at the corners into a mask of faux tragedy. "Only this once?"
"Maybe a few other times, too."
He grinned again. "Maybe is good enough for me."
We sat in silence for the next few moments, before I spoke again, slightly tentative. "I'll be graduating high school soon," I said, leaning in closer to him. He turned to look at me and frowned again, but this time he was really unhappy. "Why the frown?" I asked, my own lips turning down as well. "You don't want little Leah to grow up? Afraid I'll be taller than you?" I was only joking; I knew that was impossible—even sitting down, he still towered over me. His growth had been really out of wack lately; it seemed as though he'd grown a foot in just a week or two.
"No, it's not that." He hesitated. "But when you go away to college, Leah, I won't see you much. Hardly ever, probably…" He trailed off, biting his lower lip.
"Don't worry about that. I've got no plans on going to college. Not immediate, anyway."
He looked disapproving. "You should go to college. I'd feel bad keeping you from your education."
"You didn't go to college," I pointed out ruefully.
"You're smarter than I am. You have much more potential. If I was the reason that you didn't live up to that potential…"
"You're a liar, Sam Uley."
There was a very tense, awkward, slightly angry silence. I broke it with an attempt at humor. "Besides, don't get too full of yourself—you're not the whole reason I'm not going."
He frowned even more deeply; it looked like my 'joke' had fallen flat. "Then why aren't you going?"
"I was kidding. You are part of the reason; the other part is that I just don't want to. It seems pointless—besides, where am I supposed to go? It's not like Forks has a community college." I snorted at the thought.
"There are some good schools in Seattle," he said. "You should apply, at least."
"I really don't want to. Just drop it, okay? I'll go when I'm older… when things have settled down."
He sighed, but didn't push me on it. Wisely.
I cleared my throat. "Well, in happier news, my cousin might be coming here for my graduation."
Sam looked up, intrigued. "Your cousin? I don't remember you saying you had one."
"Emily? Remember? Emily Young?"
"Oh yeah, I remember now. You two were really close when you were kids, but when you got older, you sort of drifted apart…?"
"Right. We've kept in touch, though—we're second cousins, actually," I amended. "Like I said, she might be coming to rainy old Forks. She lives in Utah."
"I pity her the change," he said, laughing. "She better remember a raincoat."
"I don't think she owns one. She better buy one, though—visitors should just get a free one whenever they come here."
"Good idea. That wouldn't quite put is in the poor house, either. When was the last time a visitor actually came to Forks?"
"Well, there was that lady who was lost…" I hinted jokingly.
He sighed. "Deliberately."
"Deliberately? I have no idea."
"Exactly." He sighed again, and we slipped back into silence. Since I'd assumed the position of silence-breaker, I said,
"She's prettier than me." My words were a slight warning.
I felt Sam move closer to me, reach for me, his arms tightening around my waist like a vice. He was so much warmer than I'd thought—just a few moments in his embrace and I was sweating, but I didn't pull away. "I doubt that," he said. "She couldn't possibly be prettier than you."
"Oh, trust me. It's definitely possible."
"You're a liar, Leah Clearwater."
Then his arms twisted, and he spun me around to face him, pulling me into the warmth of his chest. Every curve of his body was pressed against every curve of mine. One arm was wrapped around my shoulders, the other around my waist. I fit perfectly against him, my head tucked nearly under his chin. I felt so warm and happy and secure and it felt like he'd never let me go. And I never, ever wanted him to.
The memory made me flinch; made me tense every muscle in my body as if a coating of iron had formed a protective shell around me. Sam sensed this difference and dropped his arms, taking a step back.
"Leah," he breathed, his face still full of delighted wonder, "you came back."
"Yeah," I muttered. I sounded stupid, but I couldn't find the words for anything else.
His face softened into a less intense expression, and his features lit up into an eye-creasing smile. "Thank you, Leah."
"No problem." I smiled what I imagined was a very broken, unconvincing smile.
Sam looked incredibly guilty then—his entire face seemed to tilt downward as he said softly, "Really, Leah. I mean it. I know how hard it is…"
I wanted to smash his face in. If he knew how hard it was, he wouldn't have insisted on making me come back. Instead of saying that, I said, "Where's Emily?"
"Inside. Come on in; you two look drenched."
We followed him inside the house, leaving small puddles wherever we stepped. I felt pretty miserable—I fully appreciated then that I was screwed beyond belief.
It only got worse when I saw Emily. She was sitting in the living room in a comfortable looking armchair with a blanket over her knees. Her scarred face was pinched and distorted, as if she was about to burst into tears at any moment. But it was clear that she had been handling the situation better than Sam.
She jumped to her feet as soon as she saw me, and threw her arms around my soaking body. I was shocked by the gesture, and patted her awkwardly on the back. I hadn't realized that either of them had missed me that much, and although it was kind of comforting, my stomach felt as if I'd swallowed a rock—something I normally could have gotten away with—but this time it was making me ache all over.
"Leah, Leah," she said. It took me a minute to realize that she was crying. "I'm so sorry."
It was too little and much too late for that, but I mumbled a distorted "Whatever."
"I missed you, Leah. I really did."
Yeah, yeah, yeah. They were just heaping on the melodrama now.
"Is it possible that you're overreacting?" I muttered.
She didn't respond; instead, she pulled away from me and went to put her arms around Sam. So much for being sorry. I looked away as they kissed.
"Thank you," Emily murmured after they had finished smooching. Then she turned to Jared. "Thank you, Jared. You brought her back. I'm so grateful." She practically skipped over to him and patted his shoulder, the highest point that she could reach. Little Emily. Only 5' 5." We all towered above her. That was the only edge I claimed over my otherwise perfect second cousin. And it was a pretty pathetic edge.
"What happened while we were gone?" asked Jared, returning to gesture, only this time patting Emily on the head—the lowest point he could reach without bending over.
"Nothing much," said Sam, settling into the armchair beside Emily's. That left the couch for Jared and me, but I got the feeling that Emily wouldn't appreciate huge wet spots on her precious furniture—even if it was faux velvet. "Brady and Paul did a quick sweep east, and Collin went home."
"What's with increasing the patrols?" I demanded in a growl, determined not to let any emotion leak through my brusque words.
"Just precautionary," he replied. "We don't want our numbers going down, and we're keeping on our toes."
"The mind-reading bloodsucker said that you wanted to start a war with Jacob's pack."
Sam shifted, now looking slightly uncomfortable. "This is not the way things are supposed to be. The reason that we are what we are is to protect La Push and the Quileute elders. How are we supposed to protect our tribe if our numbers are split down the middle? And how else are we supposed to win back our numbers unless we fight?"
"Anyway else," I hissed. "You were going to bring down our numbers anyway, having us fight in an unjust war."
Emily swooped in, sensing my anger, to advertently save the day. "Leah, you must be cold," she said, even though she knew full well that werewolves didn't get cold. "Why don't you take a shower?"
"Fine," I muttered, stomping out of the room. I grabbed a towel from the closet on my way to the tiny bathroom, then shut the door behind me. Still fuming, I started the water and undressed, leaving my soaking clothes in a wet heap on the ground beside the sink.
What right did Sam have to start a war in the first place? And here I was, being stupid as usual, and leaking secrets about Jacob's pack. Now he knew that Edward could read his mind from a distance and would be extra careful. How moronic. Stupid Leah.
Not only that, there was some pretty freaky crap going on with Sam and Emily. Since when did they think so much about me? A twinge of doubt told me that they were only interested in putting the original pack back together, not actually caring about my well being.
Why was I here, then? Oh, right, because I'm a moron.
I stepped into the shower, and was admittedly relieved. It felt good to have water pour down my face that didn't feel like pieces of glass. Not only was Forks' rain cold and frequent, it hurt. I reached for a bottle of shampoo, barely remembering how to use it. How long had it been since I'd last showered? A month? Two?
That was pretty freaking gross, now that I thought about it. I was sure to scrub my every inch of body with soap, and shampoo my hair three times before even sparing the conditioner a glance. Shaving my legs seemed like a pretty good idea, too.
As I reached for the razor, I began to feel a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, like an enormous weight had been dropped down my throat. Thousands of memories erupted in the back of my mind, but only one swam its way through the mass to become the center of my attention.
"What?"
Sam's voice was crackly and rough, which I supposed had to do with the static and horrible reception that I was getting through the rain. "I…can't come over tonight, Leah."
"Why not?" My voice trembled as much was my hands did as they gripped the receiver, which suddenly felt very cold.
"I have something to do."
"It's our anniversary, Sam!" The last words spilled out of my mouth in an uncontrollable wail. I finally controlled myself and said, "Well, I can come over to your house if it makes it easier…"
"No!" His voice was suddenly very sharp and defined, even through the static, and undeniably harsh. "No—Just—just stay there, Leah. Just stay at home."
"Where the hell are you going?" I demanded angrily. "You're always disappearing! What's wrong with you?" I bit my lip and recoiled slightly; I hadn't meant to sound that callous.
"I—I can't tell you." There was a muffled sound on the other end, and then the line went dead.
"Sam! Wait, Sam!" I cried uselessly, before letting the receiver drop on the desk. I buried my face in my hands and began to cry, the tears leaking through my fingers and onto the polished wood.
I hadn't understood anything then. I hadn't known where he had been going, what he had been doing, or whom he had been seeing. I remembered wondering if he was having an affair, then I had ruled out that option after I'd heard confirmation that he was still mine from his mother. I had believed her, and had gone to the airport to pick up Emily. Then I had brought her back to my house…
"Leah!" she shrieked, throwing herself at me and squeezing my shoulders in a tight hug. I laughed and untangled myself from her grasp. "I missed you! Oh my God, I can't believe I'm seeing you again!"
"Me either," I admitted. "You look different, though."
It was true—she was still beautiful; her long hair falling down her shoulders in black waves, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement, and her full, bright lips pulled backwards in a huge grin. She was both happy and beautiful, like she always had been, but she'd gotten taller, and more statuesque, with a fuller figure.
"You look exactly the same, Leah," she said.
"Thanks," I said sarcastically, remembering the black and white photographs of the small, gangly little girl with black pigtails and a goofy, clown-like grin showing several missing teeth. "That's a compliment."
"No, really, it's a good thing," she insisted, hugging me again.
I had to admit, I was pleased to see my gentle, charismatic second cousin again. It was as though the piece that had been missing for me had suddenly snapped into place. She was filling the void that Carrie, my former best friend, had left behind, even if it was only for a few weeks.
We walked to my parents' tiny house in La Push, and she marveled over how beautiful the autumn leaves were on the tiny, skeletal trees. Leave it to Emily to find a way that Forks could be beautiful.
"Is Seth home?" asked Emily as I struggled with the lock on the door—I had forgotten my key and was relying on the old, rusty one we kept hidden beneath the doormat.
"Uh." I racked my brain while jiggling the doorknob. "I don't think so. I think he's still at school. An elective or something." I shrugged.
"Too bad. I missed him, too. He was such a cute little kid."
"He used to chew on the bars of my crib; I don't find that cute."
"Aw." Emily laughed.
"'Aw' nothing," I snapped in faux annoyance. "I really liked that crib. He bit all of the paint off."
"Lead paint?"
"Yep. Explains a lot, doesn't it?"
Emily laughed again. "Need help?" She gestured towards the lock. "I could climb through a window; they don't look that high…"
I glanced upwards skeptically. "Maybe." I dropped to my knees. "Here, stand on my back and try to get through my window. I think I left it unlocked."
Emily stepped lightly onto my back, and I waited as she struggled with the window. I pinched my face up, trying to stop myself from sneezing so as to not screw up our precarious balance. Emily tried to take a step forward, but she stepped straight into midair and came tumbling down. I dodged out of the way, and she landed with a hard thump on the porch.
"Oh, crap," I said, crawling over to her. "Are you all right?"
She righted herself, spinning into a sitting position to face me. "I think so," she replied, gingerly touching each of her limbs. "Yup, I'm fine."
"Good." I sighed. "We might have to wait for Seth to get home to get in."
She shrugged. "Oh well. I don't mind."
We sat beside each other for a while and talked, leaning against the side of the house. I checked my watch after a bit, but it was only three-thirty, meaning that Seth wouldn't be home for another hour. When I looked up after that, I was completely shocked at what I saw.
Sam was walking towards us, his black hair mussed, and jeans slightly torn. He didn't see us at first until I stood up and waved. He waved back, and I noticed that he looked exhausted—dark circles etched under his eyes and his skin sagging.
"Who is that?" whispered Emily, looking slightly afraid—Sam was almost seven feet tall at that point, and even so tired, he was still intimidating.
"My boyfriend," I replied proudly, even though I wasn't entirely sure about the truth of my words.
Emily nodded, still not standing up. I saw that she pressed herself slightly more firmly against the white columns.
"Sam, come here," I said, when he had made his way to the porch. He leaned over to kiss me gently on the cheek before trying to peer around me to see Emily. "This is Emily--" I gestured her to her feet "—and Emily, this is Sa--"
I couldn't even finish speaking. Sam had diverted his attention completely from me to Emily, and the way he stared at her made me feel as if someone had punched me in the stomach. His eyes that had looked so dead and tired were suddenly glowing with a strange brightness, and, for a moment, it looked as though the wind had been knocked out of him, he looked so overwhelmed by it. And then when he recovered himself, his eyes were gleaming again, but this time even more brightly—the most loving expression that I'd ever seen came over him, though it was a cross between devotion and a fierce burning, an itching to protect her, like he would throw himself in front of a bullet to save her. And it looked as though he'd like nothing better than to throw his arms around her and kiss her.
My stomach lurched. "Sam?" I asked weakly. He didn't look at me, or acknowledge me, and he didn't even seem to hear. The way he stared at her, it was like a mother watching her child take its first steps, or a hermit coming out into the brightness of the sun for the very first time…
That was the most painful to think about. I tried to shove it out of my mind, but I only managed to push it back so it wasn't my most prominent thought. An eerie premonition told me that memory would always be lurking there, in the back of my mind. I couldn't seem to shake free of it.
As I toweled myself dry, I noticed that Emily must have left me clothes while I had been locked deep in thought. After the painful clarity of that memory, I couldn't bring myself to be grateful. I got dressed and stepped out into the cold.
Sam and Emily were kissing. I turned away and ran down the hallway. I didn't even think about looking back. I wasn't that stupid.
That was really freaking long—sixteen pages. D8
I don't think it was as good as the last one, either. It kind of had a lot going on really quickly, but I really want to get to the actual plot. This doesn't really have much to do with the actual plot, but I promise that it will start the chapter after next. Hopefully, anyway.
Like I sort of explained in the first Author's Note, this story is called Solstice because the solstices are the two most extreme days of the year. The longest day and the shortest day. And this is about the most extreme periods in Leah's life. Just… clarifying, I guess.
My beta, Demoiselle Kyota, didn't beta this chapter, so I won't be surprised if I have a bunch of little grammatical and spelling errors. Tell me if you see any of them.
I'd really appreciate constructive criticism about this chapter, since I know it wasn't as good as the first.
-Breeze
