I lost count of how long I had been lying on the beach, my bare chest in the rocky sand. My face lay on my hand and I let the wind whip at me—I barely felt it, even. The seagulls hopped along the shore looking for food but there wouldn't be anyone at the beach. Not on a day like today.

My stomach growled but I ignored it, which wasn't normal for me. Usually I'd be up, running towards the house to finish off a bag of Doritos or microwave something easy—a couple frozen pizzas. But I swallowed my hunger and instead pushed myself into a sitting position, leaning wearily against the weather-beaten log behind me. I looked up and saw the huge, ominous clouds floating overhead. The wind had kicked up a notch and the waves out on the ocean were getting choppy. A storm was guaranteed.

As I gazed out at the water and watch the waves lap at the sand I couldn't help but think about Bella; how we'd always walked here. It had been effortless. We'd held hands and discussed things. Even the serious things, we could handle. But even the difficult things had been easier than the things we faced now.

I was going to be a father. A dad. There was something growing inside of Bella—and it was all because of me.

I wanted Bella to love me. I wanted her to know that I was the one who could pick up her broken pieces and put them back where they belonged—kiss away her pain, make her forget about the bloodsucker. But I didn't want her to do it just because she was pregnant. It would hurt too badly when she woke up one day and decided she was tired of trying to pretend that she wanted me. Even worse than it used to when I'd go to bed imagining how she thought of him. How perfect he must've looked compared to me—but knowing, as I lay there, that he was unhealthy for her. Was sucking her in. No—it'd hurt much, much worse. I had a part of her now that I'd always dreamed of having—imagined having. A part of her that felt right...fulfilled me. But would ruin me if she left. Completely ruin me.

"Since when do you mope?"

I looked up. Leah Clearwater was standing behind me, a smirk on her face that twisted her features. If there was anyone I was less happy to see, I couldn't think of who it was.

"I'm not moping," I scowled, glaring at her, "And for the record it's none of your business."

"I know moping when I see it," she sat down beside me, and for a moment I thought she might be insane. Either that or highly medicated, "Besides, I thought only girls did that. The wimpy girls."

Why was she here? She'd never liked me. Only ever hung around 'cause of Sam. And when he'd chosen Emily she'd slowly started avoiding us. All of us.

"Leave me alone, Leah."

She snorted, punching my shoulder. God, she annoyed me.

"Oh, get over yourself, Jacob. Whatever it is I bet you'll be over it by tomorrow."

Something snapped. It was hard to pretend I wasn't about to kill her.

"GO. AWAY."

"Oh come on," she socked me in the arm again, leaning back against the log, "What's wrong with you, anyway?

Any other day I might've joked around and nudged her back, rolling my eyes. But I couldn't do this. Not today.

"I already told you it's none of your business!"

A crow squawked noisily overhead as the sound of my voice ricocheted off the rocks, echoing more loudly than I'd anticipated. Leah's eyes widened momentarily—I'd said it a little louder than necessary. Sure, I felt bad. But she'd asked for it.

"Whatever crap it is, you're just gonna feel worse if you sit here and dwell on it. Might as well tell me," she said quietly, "Nothing shocks me anymore."

"This would," my voice trembled as I clenched a fistful of sand in my hand. "Trust me."

"Try me, Jacob."

Oh, just great. Not only did I completely set myself up for this, but I could already feel the words about to come out my mouth. They were unstoppable.

Don't say it, I cursed myself, but it was too late. "Bella's pregnant."

The words were jumbled, but from the look on Leah's face, I could tell she'd understood.

"Bella?" she whispered, raising an eyebrow. It was sinking in, but I noticed she didn't look at me. She just shook her head.

"I'm—wow I'm sorry Jake," the sympathy was evident, but I was confused. "You really cared about her, didn't you?"

"I—"

"Who's the father, do you know?" she asked, kicking a stick in the sand.

Wait, what?

Words failed me, which was unusual. And I had almost forgotten. Leah had never known about Bella and I since she'd spent little to no time hanging around the pack lately. Well this made things awkward—and difficult. Sam knew, but then again he wouldn't tell anyone. Even Leah.

But I knew I was going to.

"Uh, yeah," I muttered, looking down into the sand, "I actually know him really well."

"No..." she turned to face me, "not the bloodsucker?"

Well that was convenient. Not only was I about to tell her that I had impregnated Bella, but now the damn bloodsucker was clouding my thoughts. Making my blood boil. As if this day could get any worse.

"No, actually," my words were blocking my throat off in a weird way, so that I had to swallow to keep myself from shouting or saying something completely stupid.

She waited, eyebrows rising at my every breath. But the words were stuck in my throat again.

"Actually, what?" Leah's voice was slow, careful. I could feel her eyes on my face. I prepared myself for the reaction.

"It's...me?" it came out like a question; unsure and stupid. But Leah's face remained calm.

"What?" her dark eyes searched my face but I didn't dare meet her gaze—not while my stomach was twisting in a knot. I didn't want to explain to her what it meant...I couldn't...but—

"The baby's...it's mine,"

Leah didn't move. I didn't, either. I kept my eyes on the waves, watching them hit the sand and toss small pieces of driftwood. I had to admit, this wasn't the reaction I'd been hoping for. Why couldn't people react like they did in the movies? Not act all quiet and leave me in the silence.

"Well," her voice came out surprisingly, upset. There was an amount of control to it, but I could hear the shakiness beneath. "That changes things a bit."

Her short hair floated around her face as the wind played with it, and I could see she'd turned towards the wind, away from me.

"Yeah, it—" I took a deep breath, sighing, "yeah."

Sometimes I wished I wasn't so easy to find. Sitting here with Leah only made the situation weirder.

But there was nothing else I could say. I leaned back again, closing my eyes as I thought of Bella's bad jokes, sucking in a deep breath at the way she giggled to herself. Would I hear those awful jokes again? Would she ever laugh for the same reasons? Or was it gone?

It wasn't easy to think about. I didn't want to imagine the emptiness.

But it was already pervading my mind—the images were crystal clear. Bella walking away. Again. Never turning back. I had to stop it. I would make myself sick.

I tried to focus on the sound of the wind—anything else but the images.

Leah. I'd almost forgotten she was there, head still turned away.

"Leah?" my voice sounded hoarse as I turned to face her. She was quiet before she turned her head.

Her raven-black hair fell across her eyes before she brushed it back.

I paused. Her eyes were puffy—tears still stained her cheeks. She'd been crying.

"What?" she spat, staring at the ground. I shook my head.

"What's—are you okay?"

"Just great."

Sarcasm, naturally. But that was Leah.

"Since when do you mope?" I socked her lightly in the arm, mocking her words earlier. But she didn't budge. Something was really, really wrong.

When I thought about it, it really was weird. I'd never seen Leah cry before. Even when Sam had gone with Emily...she'd never let us see her when she started to get all choked up. I guess she didn't want Sam to see her, mostly. But still. Usually she'd be to full of herself to let any of us see her crack. Even me. But with her here, now...I didn't know what to do.

"Uh, okay," I muttered, glancing sideways at her puckered face, "That wasn't funny, was it..."

She was still, her breathing heavy.

"No, not really."

Well, she was honest at least. I waited a few minutes before speaking.

"You know you can tell me what it is, right?" I sighed, running my hand over the smooth rocks. She laughed bitterly.

"You don't want to know," she was trying to be harsh but it came out shakily, "Trust me."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Try me. Ever heard that before?"

"Stop stealing my one-liners, Jacob," she sniffed, wiping her eyes on her grey sweatshirt sleeve. Ugh. I hated seeing girls cry. It always made me feel horrible.

"Fine, how about this," I said, chucking a small rock into the waves, watching with satisfaction as it went too far to see it land, "I won't make you tell me. But," I added, grinning, "I'll start singing Thriller at the top of my lungs until you do."

Leah made a face, shaking her head. "You are such an idiot."

Well, I knew that.

"Yeah, and my singing is complete crap," I raised my eyebrow, "So what will it be?"

She thought for a minute, wiping the last of the tears on her sleeve again.

"Well your voice does suck, I'll admit that," she mumbled, sniffling again, "But I think I could handle it."

She was being difficult as usual. Girls, I guess. They couldn't just give it to you straight.

"Leah, come—"

"Look it's never going to happen, anyway, alright?" She turned to face me, tears gathering in her eyes again, though her face was twisted in an angry way. "I might as well just give up on you."

She froze; I froze. I could tell she hadn't meant to say what she'd just said.

"What?" my voice was barely there. I swallowed, inhaling to make sure I was still breathing.

Her eyes were wide.

"Nothing."

But we both knew what'd she'd said.

"Leah..." I didn't blink, didn't move.

"I told you, Jake. You shouldn't have asked." she wiped her eyes again, getting up. I just stared.

"Whoa—Leah, I—you like me?" I could barely say it. It just sounded wrong.

She frowned, grabbing her backpack. I hadn't even seen her bring it.

"This day never happened, you got that?" her words like ice, "So stupid..." she muttered, walking quickly away, "So freaking stupid."

I sat there, completely stunned. She'd never paid attention to me. Never. And if she did, it was negative attention, always telling me I smelled like leech, or telling me my haircut made me look like a wannabe 80's porn star.

But now this? Since when had Leah given a crap about me? Was this some sick joke? I contemplated the possibility that she was just pulling a weird, messed-up prank. But I highly doubted she'd risk her dignity for something juvenile like that. Maybe, for once, she was telling the truth. Maybe Leah Clearwater really did like me.

Could my life get any weirder?

Don't answer that.