Planning.
Plan a) impossible, Plan b) won't work, Plan c) give up now, or Plan d) think of a Plan d)
After pacing in my room, desperately trying to figure out a way to either: a) not fall in love with Leah anymore, b) discover a way to get Leah to love me, or c) still have sex with Leah while being in love with her, but keeping it a secret, and trying to get her to fall in love with me, I've come up with... absolutely nothing.
Plan A was impossible after last night. Having Leah beside me, just cuddling as we slept, (I am such a girl for admitting this), was amazing. Just feeling her lie on my chest, snuggling into my side and sleeping peacefully was nice. Domestic. Real. I can see myself just cuddling with her every night. You know, without the whole abandoning me in the middle of the night leaving me alone and restless the next morning.
Plan B seemed difficult. Okay, it looks to be fucking impossible. How do you get Leah Clearwater to love you? All my life I've just been trying to get the girl to like me, (not that I ever succeeded), and now I want her to love me. Shit, I must be insane.
I mean, it's not like I have anyone to go to about this. No one in La Push, save her family, (Seth, Sue, Harry… I don't think Emily counts anymore…), has been loved by Leah. Sure, once upon a time there was Sam, but he royally fucked that up with the whole Emily-I-love-you-but-she's-my-imprint-and-I'm-supposed-to-be-with-her-forever-love triangle. Not like he would've lasted with Leah anyways. We all saw how "dear Sammy's" eye would wander whenever the cheerleaders would pass by his locker. (Yeah, cheerleaders. Cheerleaders who liked to bake muffins and garden. Go figure.) Like they say: like father, like son.
Which leaves Plan C; another freaking impossible plan. Well, I know that I can keep our sessions a secret. I can love her. I can definitely find it in me to have sex with Leah. But getting her to fall in love with me? Ah, there might be some problems.
I know I'm a good-looking guy, (hey, when you've got it, flaunt it), and she obviously likes our "group sessions", it's just the after part. I just want more than what she gives. Usually she'll catch her breath, kiss me, and then leave. Sometimes, on good days, she'll do what she did last night; curl up beside me and just sleep. Nothing else. No pillow-talk, or rubbing up on each other, just the feel of our bodies resting against one another. Like that ever lasts. The minute our little 'moment' is over she bolts up, throws her clothes on, and bolts out of my sight. I don't want that anymore. When this change of heart happened, I have no idea. All I know is that I want her to be close, to spend the night, to stay with me. To be with me. To show everyone that she doesn't give a flying fuck what they think and that she'd rather spend the night cuddled up next to me than doing anything else. To just show something other than lust for me.
Oh god, I'm turning into one of those girls. You know, the ones who go out with a guy once and then start planning their futures together because the guy said something like, "This was fun. We should do it again sometime. I'll call you," while he has absolutely no intention to call. Yet the girl waits by the phone, confidant that he'll call. Waiting day and night for his call, even a text. And when he doesn't, she'll make excuses for him. "He must be busy, he wouldn't forget to call. Oh no, not him. We're together." Meanwhile he has no intention of calling, texting, or talking to her because he doesn't feel that way towards her. Sadly, the girl is blind by her feelings toward him. The undeniable tingly, warm and right feeling that courses through her veins whenever his arm brushes against hers. Because, surely, if she feels it than he must too.
Yeah. I'm the pathetic girl in that scenario. Pining for Leah when she clearly only wants sex.
Just like Bella only wanted friendship.
Why can't a girl just want me for me? The whole me. Jacob Black: Alpha, shape-shifter, mechanic, hopeless romantic.
Most girls would kill for me, yet all of the girls I want don't want me in that way.
Thanks Fate, way to give me a shitty hand in life.
Unable to stay in my room any longer, (Leah's scent is intoxicating and is clouding my mind from any actual thought), I throw on a pair of sweats and make my way downstairs towards the kitchen.
"You have got to me fucking kidding me!" I shout, startling Quil who was trying to get Count Chocula, (Oh the irony), to his chocolaty castle through the maze on the back of the cereal box. Specifically, my cereal box that only had enough cereal for one bowl, which is now being inhaled by Quil.
God, I hate best friends.
"Dude! You totally broke my concentration!" Quil complains through a mouthful of chocolate-frosted goodness and marshmallows.
"You're eating my cereal! What the hell? Don't you have a home with your own cereal to go to?" I ask. Usually I don't really care if Quil, Embry, Seth, or the rest of the guys, (save for Collin-little shit, Sam-prick, and Paul-god damned douche who eats all my food, after marrying my sister and living in their own house), come in to crash on the couch, grab a pair of cutoffs when they accidentally phase, or even have a little something to eat. We're family, it's what we do. I go to their house sometimes, (Thursday is meatloaf night at Brady's house. I may occasionally stop by to say hello. If Mrs. Bruster insists that I have a slice, who am I to object?), for food, so it's only fair if I return the favor with an open house.
It's not like Dad minds either. He usually wheels it on down to Sue and Charlie's for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day of the week so food money is never an issue.
But today isn't a good day. Today I woke up to an empty bed after realizing how fucking happy and content I am with Leah. Not to mention that was after our "group session," which was in the middle of my dream with Dream-Leah on the cusp of professing her love to me. So, not only did I wake up alone, surrounded by Leah's scent, searching my sheets for her, but I also never got to hear the one thing that I've wanted to hear from her since I realized I wanted more.
Today is horrible.
And now I have no cereal. No cereal, which means no breakfast, which means hunger. "I'm just so sick of it! I give you guys everything! EVERYTHING! I let you switch patrols at a moment's notice, I let you take days off, I never use the Alpha Command, I let you guys into my home, my closet, my fridge, and you don't even have the decency to leave me my cereal! Is one bowl of cereal, one measly bowl, that big of a deal?" I yell at him.
Tugging at my hair, I start to pace, "You know how much I love my cereal! You know that I have a bowl every morning when I wake up! It's the one thing, the one thing that I have to have in the mornings. I bought that cereal! I waited in line for it, I looked for it at the store, I spent my money on it, brought it home and put it away! I did everything for it! I deserve to have the last freaking bowl of cereal!"
Quil gapes at me, un-chewed cereal visible in his mouth. I just stand in front of him, glaring at him and what was supposed to be my bowl of cereal, and try to calm the slight shaking that has taken over my body. After taking a few deep breaths, I finally calm myself to look up at Quil. Sending him a sheepish smile, I shrug my shoulders in a 'Heh, sorry. Hungry werewolf here, what are you gonna do?'
Quil closes his mouth, chews and swallows before nodding his head and saying, "Sorry man, I wouldn't have made the bowl if we had any food at home. Mom had a huge party thing last night for Kim's cousin who's pregnant. Long story short, pregnant women eat more than wolves and I knew you still had some stuff in your fridge."
I nod, letting out a sigh as I tell him, "Yeah, I forgot about that. How was it?"
Taking a cautious spoonful of cereal, (he's probably worried that I'm going to kill him for eating the cereal in my presence), he shrugs. "Meh, as great as it could be I guess."
I nod my head in sympathy and start to search my cupboards for something to eat. Brushing by Quil, I start to look through the pantry, desperate for something edible. Suddenly, Quil stiffens and sniffs.
He puts down his bowl and walks over to me, leaning towards my shoulder and takes a big sniff.
What. The. Hell?
I send him a curious glance and he just stares at me in complete shock. What? So I didn't take a shower this morning, no big deal. It's not like he smells like a bed of roses. Besides, I wasn't the one on patrol last night. So I don't smell like a sweaty furball.
Oh shit.
My scent. My room. My night with Leah. On me. All over. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
I smell like Leah. And judging by the freaked out look from Quil, I smell like Leah and sex.
Shit.
"My nose! My precious, virginal nose!" Quil wails.
And I thought my Dad knowing was bad. This is worse.
After having a long talk with Quil, (threats of bodily harm, multiple runs of patrol, the destruction of every Magic Schoolbus DVD he owns, and ripping every page of his coloring and philosophy books), he finally agrees to not say a word to anyone. Ever. Not the guys, not his Mom, no one. Even Claire, (who probably wouldn't understand, but still), was banned from this information.
The secret was safe.
"So, how long has this," Quil made some vague hand gestures signifying Leah and mine's 'relationship', "been going on?"
Giving him my best death glare, I tell him, "A while." He should drop this. Now.
"Oh," Quil nods happily. "You love her?"
I stare at him and think: tell or not tell? He's one of my best friends, and he already knows, plus my dad knows. Could this get any worse?
I give him a look that says, 'What do you think?' And he shakes his head. "Jacob Black: Alpha extraordinaire! Falls hard, and falls fast. Ladies step right up for your dream man!"
Laughing, I punch him in the arm and we wrestle for a bit before he says in awe, "Jacob Black loves Leah Clearwater."
As soon as he says that, I feel as if some of the weight I've been carrying, the pressure of having to keep my relationship and my feelings for Leah a secret, has been lifted, if only slightly. The words have been said, not to the person who should hear them, nor by the person who feels them, but the truth is out.
The feeling's old but it's new to me. It's just like what I felt with Bella, (the need to protect and comfort), but it's different, real, and more…realistic. With Leah I don't have to touch her like she is made of glass, always worrying if she'll trip and break herself. With Leah I think about random things, like what detergent she uses, what's her favorite cookie, (oatmeal double chocolate chip), or if I'll be able to smell her lilac detergent on her sheets tonight.
It's so real and, dear god, marital, that it scares the crap out of me. Especially since I know she doesn't feel the same way. She doesn't think 'I wonder what Jake's up to' or 'Does Jake like chicken parmesan?' (which I totally do) because this isn't a real relationship. She doesn't want any of it and I'm not sure how long I can keep my mouth shut. Or how long Quil can.
The phone rings and Quil, being the closest to the phone, answers, "Hello, Black residence. Quil Ateara speaking."
He nods his head and mutters, "Uh huh, uh huh," a couple times before he says, "Oh you mean Jacob Black! Why didn't you say so? Why yes, he's right here."
Grabbing the phone from his outstretched hand I answer, "Hello?"
"Why is a pedophile answering your phone?" Leah drawls.
Shooting a glare at Quil, (he could have warned me who was on the phone!), I clear my throat before answering, "When the dogs are hungry, they always come to their master looking for food."
I hear Leah's laugh on the other line before she grows serious, "Is he still there?"
Looking at the kitchen table, I see Quil look up at me from his Count Chocula maze and wave before looking back at it. "Unfortunately," I mumble.
"That's too bad. I was hoping you could come over and help me with something," she mutters huskily.
Turning my back to Quil I bring the receiver closer to me before I ask huskily, "Oh yeah? With what exactly?"
I can hear her smile through the phone. "Oh you know, this and that." She trails off. "Maybe discuss a certain invitation that came in the mail. If you're lucky I'll even let you help me with some laundry."
Laundry? What? "Laundry?"
Leah snickers, "Oh I have so much to teach you."
Not wanting her to see me as some inexperienced child, I rush out, "Well when do you want to start this lesson, my dear Teacher?"
I hear a pause on the end of the line before Leah rushes out, "Noon. Don't be late."
"Wouldn't think of it," I tell her before I hear the dial tone.
I hang up the phone on the receiver and spare a glance at the clock on the microwave. 11:23AM. Okay, I have time.
Running upstairs, I go to change before deciding to take a shower. If Quil could smell Leah on me, who knows who else could smell her on me. Not to mention I don't think Leah would appreciate me showing up covered in our combined scent from last night, no matter how amazing it might have been.
Jumping into the shower, I (regretfully) scrub Leah's scent off of me and just let the scalding water, (as scalding as shower water can get for someone with a temperature of about one-oh-nine Fahrenheit), wash the night off of me.
After I towel myself off, I take a comb through my shaggy hair and do something I haven't done in a while: shave. Leaning towards the mirror, I make sure I shave off all of the scruff that has grown in the past months. Washing the shaving cream off of my face, I look at myself and make sure that I didn't miss a spot.
I head back into my room and take on a nearly impossible task: finding something clean, not wrinkled, and not ripped to wear. After searching through the piles of clothes strewn across my room, I'm pretty sure I no longer own anything that fits the description of clean, ironed, and fresh.
In one last attempt to try and find something decent to wear, I check my closet. And, holy hell, there's not just a shirt, but an actual pair of jeans. Both are on their own hanger. It's a miracle. Thank you magical shirt-and-pant fairy, thank-you!
I throw my jeans and shirt on and inspect myself in the hall mirror. Teeth brushed? Check. Hair brushed? Check. Shower? Check. Deodorant? Double check. Boogers? All clear. Clothes on properly? Yep, (They're going to come off anyways, but you can't be too careful). Shoes? I have… one! Wow, I have only one shoe. I am proud. I thought I phased with them all on.
Okay, going shoeless. No big deal, it's not like anyone else in the packs have shoes.
Alright Jake, you're all good to go. You can do this. Just try and follow Plan C: still have sex with Leah while loving her, keeping it a secret, and trying to get her to fall in love with me.
Okay, go get 'em tiger!
I suck at self-pep talks.
Glancing at the clock, it reads 12:08PM. Oh shit! I'm late.
Rushing through the kitchen, I book it out of the house yelling to a confused Quil, "I gotta go!" while running over to Leah's.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
Flyaway Dove I bow at your feet.
Next up: laundry day. Oh my naïve little readers, there is a special way that Leah does laundry, a very, very special way.
I know it's sad, but it's got me excited: I finally got a facebook account. I know, I know, I'm so behind, but I was sharing with my cousin for a while and figured I should just make one myself. And I did! HA! So add me, don't add me, doesn't matter. I'm riding the FB high right now. Okay, back to hmw, projects and reality.
Hope you all enjoyed. Read, review, be merry.
Lu
P.S. no one likes it when you read, alert, and favorite but don't review :( hint, hint.
