Okay, so this definitely isn't my favorite chapter. It pretty much sucks, but I couldn't find anything to make it better, so here it is.
Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable Twilight characters.
I spent several weeks with Brett and his family. Sarah grew on me more and more—Brett obviously liked her, and I was beginning to realize why. She was pretty much incapable of holding a grudge or being mean in any way.
If only I could be so forgiving.
At first I had planned to tell Brett about what I was before the week was out, but I kept putting it off, making excuses. I was scared. What if what I was made Brett hate me?
I knew I would have to soon—Sam was becoming even more insistent that I come home, and since I refused to tell him that I had imprinted, he saw no point for me to stay. Several times while I was with Brett, Sam had ordered me home. It got harder and harder each time for me to defy him. Right now it was so bad, I literally had to press myself against the ground and bite something to keep from running home.
Finally, Paul got sick of it. Either you tell him tomorrow, or I'll come up and tell him myself, he threatened.
Well.
I started planning. How could I make Brett believe me? There is no good way to tell someone that you are a werewolf.
But I finally hit on a plan that was about as close to good as I was going to get. Today was Friday. I would put my plan into action tomorrow morning.
Late morning found me wandering through the woods near the farm, waiting for Brett to notice I was gone. Hopefully it wouldn't take long, since I usually helped him feed the animals.
"Staaaaaaar!" Bingo. I'd let him sweat for a little while so that he would be sure to ask the strange girl to help him look for his dog.
I sat in the forest for about half an hour, listening as Brett's calls got more and more frantic. It hurt my heart to put him through this, but it was necessary. Thank God Carrie was at a friend's house—she would have been in tears by now.
It was time. I phased into my human form, slipping on the shorts and tank top I had hidden there earlier. I made my way towards the sound of Brett's voice, my stomach jumping with butterflies. My heartbeat was unusually loud and erratic, pounding through my ears in an almost painful way.
"Hi," I said, stepping out of the trees and wincing as my voice squeaked. Brett started and stared at me, surprised. Well, it wasn't everyday strange girls came wandering out of his forest. I should know. "Are you looking for someone?"
"Yeah," he said, now apparently over his brief fit of surprise. "My dog, Star. Have you seen her?" he asked hopefully.
I took a deep breath. This was where it got sticky.
"I swear to you that I'm not crazy," I said unsteadily. "What I'm going to tell you is completely true."
Brett stared at me again, obviously wondering if I had gone around the bend.
"I'm Star," I blurted out, nervously waiting for his reaction.
He glared at me. "I'm serious. Have you seen her?"
"She's me, Brett," I said softly, willing him with all my heart to accept what I was saying.
"You," he said firmly, "are most definitely not my dog."
"I'll prove it," I said desperately, my earlier plan falling to pieces in the face of the actual event. "Please, Brett, you have to believe me," I begged him.
"How do you know my name?" he asked suspiciously. "Are you one of those freaky stalkers?
"I know your name, and Carrie's name, and your teammates names because I've been living with you, Brett," I explained quickly. "I'm Star. I'll prove it to you."
"Yeah? How?" he said rudely, looking very much like he wanted to turn around and run. I didn't blame him.
"Turn around," I ordered, feeling a little braver.
"Why? So you can pull a trick?" he said stubbornly. "I don't think so."
I shrugged. "Fine." I started pulling off my tank top, hoping he wouldn't call my bluff.
It worked. His eyes widened in alarm. "What are you doing?"
"Well, I don't want to rip my clothes," I explained reasonably. "Do you want to turn around now?"
He turned around quickly.
"Count to three," I said, quickly pulling off my shorts. I phased and waited for him to turn around.
He did, slowly. When he caught sight of me, he looked staggered. I stayed where I was.
"What are you?" he whispered, fear in his eyes.
Silently, I picked up my clothes and walked behind a tree to phase. He looked even more stunned when I walked back out.
"What the hell are you?" he asked again, fear making him harsh. I sighed.
"I'm a werewolf."
"You're a what?" he asked, disbelieving.
"A werewolf," I repeated. "You know, man-wolf?"
"Holy shit," he said. I was unprepared for what he said next.
"That is so cool."
I laughed in relief. "You think so?"
"Duh! It must be totally awesome."
"Glad you think so."
"What's your name, anyway?" he asked curiously.
"I'm Leah," I said, smiling for the first time in what felt like ages. "Leah Clearwater."
"Leah." He rolled it over his tongue, as if tasting it. "Man, I can't wait to see their faces!"
"Whose faces?" I asked warily.
"The team, of course. Wait til they find out you're a werewolf!"
"No!" I shouted, startling him and a few birds who had been nesting nearby. They fluttered noisily out of their trees, chirping in alarm. "You can't ever tell anyone about me. It's a secret."
"Then why did you tell me?" he asked.
Shit. I hadn't planned for this. I couldn't tell him that he was my imprint, even though it was true. I'd promised myself that I wouldn't.
"Well," I began. "That's a whole different story."
"Different?" he asked. "How?"
"You definitely don't want to know," I said, laughing dryly. "Trust me on that one."
"It can't be that bad," he prodded.
"Oh, yes it can," I said. "Please, just drop it."
"So…this whole time…you've been Star?" he asked.
"Yep," I sighed, a blush heating my cheeks as I remembered everything he had told me, including his wish to go all the way with Sarah.
"Oh," he said. "Well, this is awkward."
"I'll say," I mumbled, looking away.
"How 'bout we just start over?" he suggested. "hi, I'm Brett Taylor.
"Leah Clearwater," I said, grinning. "So I hear you're looking for your dog?"
"Not anymore," he replied. "So, how are you planning to work this?"
"Huh?" I asked, confused.
"Well, are you planning on staying at my house, or what?"
"Because that wouldn't be too weird," I laughed. "Hi, I'm Leah. I'm also your dog, Star. Can I stay with you for a while? No, I'm going to rent a place somewhere."
"No, you're not," Brett said. "Carrie would kill you."
"You'll have to go to school," he continued. "But you're right, it would be a little weird for me to show up dragging a runaway girl. Which reminds me—why did you come here, anyway? Or is that something else I don't want to know?"
"I needed to get away," I said evasively.
"Bad family life?" he asked sympathetically.
"No…a guy. My alpha, actually," I said, embarrassed.
"Oh. Well, do you want to talk about it?" he offered.
I started to shake my head, then changed my mind. "Yes," I said, doing my best to keep away the threatening tears.
I explained to him about Sam and Emily and the whole werewolf/imprinting deal.
"And now I have to be in their wedding," I sobbed. Yeah, the whole not crying thing? That hadn't worked out so well.
Brett looked a little panicked. Well, what regular guy wouldn't be?
At this point, I had pretty much collapsed in the tears that I had allowed to build up over the course of the last few years. Now the dam was broken, and I was sobbing out every hurt Sam and Emily had ever done to me.
"They just kiss each other like I'm not even there," I sniffled. "It's not fair! What did I ever do to them? What did I do? What did I do?"
Desperately, Brett pulled me to him, trying to stop my crying. "Shhhh," he said, his strong hands rubbing my back soothingly.
"I'm sorry," I wailed, my soggy face buried in his chest.
"Shhhhh, it's okay," Brett said, continuing to rub my back. We stood there for a few more minutes as I gulped, shuddered, and heaved.
When I was finally quiet, I nestled softly against him, drained and spent. I vaguely recalled that there was a reason I shouldn't be doing this, but right at that moment, I couldn't remember what it was. Sooner than I would have liked, he pulled away to examine my face.
"Are you okay now?" he asked.
"Yes," I sniffed weakly. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out. I guess it just all needed to come out."
"You didn't freak me out," he assured me.
"Liar," I laughed. "I know how guys minds work, remember. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's that guys hate tears."
"Well. Maybe a little," he said. "It's not every day that I get hysterical werewolf girls throwing themselves at me sobbing."
"Hey!" I protested. "I was not hysterical."
He raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Then I really hope you never are."
"Well. Maybe a little," I admitted, grinning. "Sorry."
"Now," Brett said, "I think you should stay on the farm with us, as Star. I'm pretty sure we'll be able to get you enrolled in my school—it's public, and they don't care anyway."
"Don't worry about it. I can send the bill to my friend Paul," I said.
"Okay, then," Brett said, his worries about money assuaged. "We can just sneak you out every morning."
"Sounds good," I agreed. Then I grinned cheekily. "Do I still get to be mascot?"
He laughed. "The guys would hunt you down. Trust me."
I had been so focused on Brett that I hadn't noticed the noise of someone coming through the woods. I inhaled, and almost choked. Vampire.
"Get behind me!" I yelled, pulling off my clothes. There was no time for modesty—I had only seconds, if that.
Brett was staring at me, dumbstruck. "Now!" I roared, phasing.
I was barely in time. The vamp slid through the trees, running hard. I timed my jump and leaped, bringing it down.
It didn't try to wrap its arms around me. Good. Not a newborn. I ripped into it furiously, tearing away chunks of it with a ferocity I hadn't known I possessed. It screamed in pain and fury, pummeling my sides. I yelped as one of its hands connected with the side of my head, making it ring. In one fluid movement, it slid out from under me and headed straight for Brett. I snarled and leaped on it once more, locking my jaws around its arm. I tore it off with a screech of breaking rock.
With a final snap of my jaws, I severed the head, silencing its cries. Swiftly, I dismembered the remainder of the corpse, then padded over to my abandoned pile of clothes, searching for the matches and tiny bottle of kerosene Sam insisted we all carry.
What do you know. Something Sam said actually came in handy.
I grabbed my clothes and padded behind a tree. I phased and hurried back out to the pile of limbs—already they were inching towards each other, trying to remake themselves. I poured the kerosene over them and stepped back, lighting a match as I did so. I threw it at the reeking pile and it burst into flame with a roar.
I turned to Brett, nervous.
"What the hell was that?" he managed weakly, his horrified gaze fixed on the awful-smelling fire.
"Vampire," I said grimly. "You must have smelled really good."
Brett's brow furrowed in confusion. "Smelled really good?"
"Your blood. Vamps survive off of blood. For him to come running straight at me, it must have smelled better than usual."
Brett's usually tan face was pale and wan. "Vampires are real?"
"Very," I said. "We're natural enemies. You're lucky I was here, or you'd be a bit dead now."
"I don't get it," he said, frowning. "What did you mean by running straight at you?"
"I smell horrible to a vamp, like they smell horrible to me. Your blood must have smelled pretty damn good for him to come running straight at a stinky archenemy."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Brett looked around nervously. "Are there any more?"
I sniffed. "Nah. Luckily, most vamps travel alone, or in twos. Better food chances."
Brett's face, which had been slowly returning to its usual golden tone, quickly turned green again. "Sorry," I said.
"S'okay," he said, his voice weak. "Just a lot to take in."
I patted his back sympathetically. "You'll get used to it," I told him. "Can we get out of here? That smell is gonna make me hurl."
He blinked at me, a little surprised at my gruffness. I was too. "Sorry," I apologized again. "This whole thing is stressing me out."
Brett nodded. "Don't worry about it." We started walking, heading back to the farm.
"Um," Brett said. "Shouldn't you, uh, you know…" he gestured helplessly with his hands.
"Oh, right. Crap. Thanks," I said, heading behind a tree.
"You can do that out here," Brett joked. "I don't mind."
"But your girlfriend would, Mr. I-want-to-go-all-the-way," I reminded him, poking my head out from behind the tree, and was gratified to see him blush. I phased and picked up my clothes, ready to head back home.
Brett grimaced at me when I emerged. "You know, I think I like you better when you can't talk," he said. I pulled back my lips and growled at him, making him laugh. "Or not," he chuckled. "Come on, Carrie will be getting worried."
We walked home at a slow, leisurely pace. If someone had seen us, we would have looked for all the world like that quintessential relationship—a boy and his dog.
Ha. If only it were that simple.
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