Chapter 2: Embracing Mortality

I wanted this day to end!

The worst part wasn't that I had hurt Quil, although that was pretty bad in and of itself. What killed me was the way everyone was staring at me.

I was in a room full of werewolves and they were looking at me like I was the monster.

"Fine!" I said, mostly to myself, and followed Quil out the back door. As soon as I saw the shreds of black and green cloth at the edge of the trees, I knew he had phased.

Jacob seemed to realize it, too. He stepped out of the house, into the rain, barefoot and shirtless.

"I'll see if I can get him to wait for you, but you need to go in there and deal with this."

So much for Jacob being on my side.

He had something in his hand, but before I could ask him what it was, he disappeared into the trees.

I waited, wondering what I was going to say to Quil. I hated hurting him and I wanted to make things better, but how could I do that without leading him on? How could I make him get over this infatuation and still live with myself?

Jacob stepped out of the trees a few minutes later, his hands empty.

"He's waiting for you in a clearing fifty yards in. Go easy on him, okay? He's pretty upset."

I was suddenly angry. This wasn't my fault! I was just trying to live my own life.

I opened my mouth to yell at him but choked on the words.

I walked into the woods, swatting away branches as I moved. I knew exactly which clearing he was in and I took my time getting there. I had no doubt my anger would leave me as soon as I saw him and I wanted to hold on to it as long as possible.

I was surprised, when I broke through the last bush and saw Quil standing alone--wearing nothing but a pair of shorts; I realized Jacob must have brought them to him--that my anger didn't subside after all.

Even in the clearing there was enough tree cover that the rain didn't touch us. I pushed my long wet hair from my face and crossed my arms over my chest.

"What the hell is your problem?" I growled at him. "You're acting like a baby. So what, I'm not wearing your bracelet anymore. We're not engaged, you know. We're not even dating."

He looked away and I waited for the guilt to knock me over. I found, instead, that it felt good to yell at him.

So I did it some more.

"I'm so tired of walking on egg shells around you, Quil. Ever since I found out about your feelings for me, I've had to be careful about what I say and what I do so you don't misinterpret things. People keep staring at me and talking about me behind my back, wondering when I'm going to catch the fever--" I waved my hands in the air as if it were some magic spell-- "and fall in love with you, and then I get treated like the bad guy because I stopped wearing a piece of yarn you gave me four damn years ago. I don't know what to tell you, Quil. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, but I didn't ask for this."

"I didn't ask for this, either!" he snapped, turning on me. His face was pained, anger mixing with the hurt. I felt my mouth fall open. I had never heard him raise his voice before.

"How the hell do you think I feel, Claire?" he asked. "You were two when I imprinted on you. Do you have any idea how horrified I was? How ashamed I felt? I thought I was some kind of psycho, and I knew the next time we phased, the whole pack would know it, too. I tried not to think about you, but I couldn't think about anything but you."

His arms were shaking. I realized I was scared, but not of Quil. I was scared that this was it, the end of our friendship.

I didn't want him in love with me anymore, but I didn't want to lose him.

I couldn't speak.

"I knew what it was the second I felt it. Sam had imprinted on Emily and Jared had already imprinted on Kim, so we all knew what it felt like from their experiences. But I didn't want to believe it was happening to me. Not . . . that way."

He took a deep breath. His arms weren't shaking as bad.

"The legends made it sound like it was rare, and they certainly never hinted that it could happen with someone so young. In a way I guess I'm glad the others could read my thoughts, because they knew how bad I felt about it and they sympathized with me. But Emily . . . she was furious at first. She thought I was going to steal you away and make you my child bride or something."

He laughed, but there was no humor in it.

"Sam finally got her to understand that it wasn't romantic, not yet. He convinced her that you could benefit from having me in your life, as a big brother, as a friend, and since your father was no longer around, he suggested your mother move to La Push with you and your sister."

He looked at me then, his brown eyes locking with mine. It was quiet for a moment, with the exception of the rain hitting the fronds above us.

"I know you're upset with me," he continued, "but try to see my side of things. I felt like a freak, at the same time knowing that you would always be the very thing I lived for. It was like gravity had shifted and my very existence revolved around you. It's a strange feeling, giving up control like that. I watched you grow and, despite myself, fell in love with you. I knew I only had to be patient and someday you'd love me, too.

"And I've been patient, Claire. I haven't pressured you into anything. I've been everything you've needed me to be. A brother, a friend, a confidant, a mentor, a protector, a supporter . . . all the while knowing that I can never be complete until you love me in return."

My anger was gone. There was more than guilt choking me now. I felt tears in my eyes, a lump in my throat. This was so unfair.

"I'm sorry about your humiliation," he went on. "I truly am, but it's just as humiliating for me. Maybe more. Every werewolf in Quileute history has won the love of the girl he imprinted on. All but me. And when you leave next month, I'll be left here, worrying about you, thinking about you every second of every day, knowing that there will never, could never, be another girl for me."

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"Quil," I said, my voice breaking.

"If seeing the world is really what you want, then I want you to go. But I want you to know that I'll be here, waiting for you. And--"

He paused. I turned to look at him and saw him looking at the ground, his shaggy hair hiding his eyes from me.

"And I won't be a werewolf anymore. If you come back and decide you want me, we can have a normal life. We can grow old together."

He looked up at me and smiled warmly. "Maybe we can even travel together."

My mouth was hanging open.

"What do you mean, you won't be a werewolf anymore? How is that . . . possible?"

He sighed. "According to legend, when werewolves have enough control that we don't phase for a solid length of time, we stop being immortal and we start aging again."

"But, if that's true, what about Sam and the others?"

"They don't want to give it up. They aren't convinced we're as safe as we seem to be. Vampires travel through this area more than you realize."

I thought I had a pretty good idea.

"So why are you giving it up?"

He stared at me, his eyes boring into mine, and I could feel the intense love there, the sadness and the pain of loving someone who couldn't love him back.

I turned away again. "Please don't . . . don't give up your life for me."

"I wouldn't have a life if not for you."

"Why are you doing this? Why are telling me these things and giving up your immortality, after everything I've done to you, after I've told you a million times that I can't be with you?"

He was quiet for so long that I had to look at him again. He was better composed than I was, even standing there half naked.

"I want to age as you age, so that if you ever change your mind and return to La Push, we can have a chance at a normal life." He smiled. "Or as normal as you'd like it to be."

"But Quil, what if I don't change my mind? What if I never come back here?"

He shrugged, but his smile didn't fade. "Then I'll die when you die. I've already told you, I can't exist without you."

This half-laugh, half-sob, hysteria-thing came out of my throat. He was insane!

"You jerk!" I bellowed. "How am I supposed to leave knowing that I'm sentencing you to death?"

"Claire, you do what you need to do. I'm embracing my mortality regardless. It's time."

"Why now? You're in your twenties. I'm only seventeen. Wait a few years. Wait a hundred years! You could imprint on someone else." As I said this, he shook his head. "How do you know?" I shrieked.

"Imprinting is a definite thing. It doesn't happen to every werewolf, but when it does, it only happens once."

"How do you know? It seems to me like all the rules are changing. You were the first to imprint on a toddler. I was the first to reject the rules of imprinting. Leah is the first female werewolf. You don't know, Quil, especially if you don't stick around long enough to find out."

"It has to be now. Even in times of peace, it takes a lot of control to keep from phasing, and it could take me years to master it. No one knows how long we have to go without phasing before we begin to age again. If I wait, it could be too late. You could die while--"

"I could die anyway, crossing the Sahara or climbing the Appalachians," I snapped.

He cringed. "Please don't say that."

"What if it was a mistake, Quil? What if I was a mistake?"

"You weren't a mistake. Even if it hadn't happened from imprinting, I would have fallen in love with you. Your spirit, your sense of adventure, your beauty. You were made for me."

I swiped angrily at the rest of the tears as they came. It was getting dark in the clearing and I was cold and hungry.

I felt like we hadn't gotten anywhere.

"Well," I said bitterly. "You follow your path to mortality. I'm following mine to Canada. Good luck to both of us."

I had planned to walk away, but my legs were frozen in place. I stared into the trees for a long time, aware that Quil was watching me.

"Are you going back to Emily's?" he asked after several awkward seconds.

"In a minute. I need a moment alone."

He nodded and took a reluctant step toward me.

"Can we at least stay friends?" he asked, his voice pleading. "You could send me postcards. I could send you orange Fanta." I looked up into his brown eyes, full of hope and humor, and I lost it.

I closed the distance between us, throwing my arms around his bare chest and feeling the warmth of his skin on my cold cheek. His arms went tight around me as I cried.

"Quil, you've always been my best friend. If I could change the way I feel, I would."

"I know," he whispered. "You can't help how you feel anymore than I can. I don't blame you for that. I'm very proud of you, in fact, for following your dreams and not settling, not even for me."

I wanted to tell him that being with him wouldn't be settling, but I knew how it would sound.

He kissed the top of my head and abruptly let me go, leaving me standing alone in the clearing, an echo of his warmth making me that much colder.

I hugged my arms to my chest and cried harder than I had in years.

This was only the first of many goodbyes to come, and it was by far the hardest. The others would be nothing compared to this. Quil had been such a constant in my life, the only person I could truly depend on.

How was I going to adjust to being alone when I was used to his warm smile, his kind eyes, his words of encouragement?

I didn't know how long I'd stood there feeling sorry for myself. It continued to get darker and I knew I should head back, but I wasn't ready to face the house full of people and half-wolves waiting for me.

I would come back some day, I decided. I would see the world, get it out of my system, and I would come back to him. Maybe I'd even love him by then. I certainly owed it to him to try.

I felt better having made the decision to see Quil again before we both succumbed to the fate of mortals. I turned to head back into the trees.

And came face-to-face with a vampire.