And so it came to pass that, five days after the initial incident, Leah Clearwater made her third trip to Walmart. She fidgeted uncomfortably in her new clothes, and a hand shot over from the passenger side to still her bouncing knee. Emily had been maddeningly patient. Leah wasn't ready to grapple with a concept like forgiveness, and Emily knew better than to ask. But perhaps this was her way of seeking redemption. She normally went to the Costco in Sequim for groceries, but without prompting, she suggested that perhaps the Walmart would offer a better selection. With equal ease, she offered Leah several sweaters and a pair of jeans. They never fit me quite right, she said. You should try them.

But Leah was sure they didn't fit her quite right either. And taking Emily with her suddenly felt like a massive mistake. How had this not occurred to her? Even with the scars, Emily was prettier. And she was certainly nicer. And she knew how to cook, and darn sweaters. Leah ate Hot Pockets and held her life together with duct tape and safety pins.

As they pulled into a parking spot, Leah spoke for the first time since leaving La Push.

"I think you should stay in the car."

"Leah-"

"I don't want him to see you!" It came out more sharply than even she expected.

"Oh." And the apologetic, sorrowful look she always gave Leah was back full force. "I'll be out here, then."

"I just…I need to do this—this part—alone." Leah was already out of the car. His nearness was frighteningly palpable now, and the need to see him overrode the (admittedly minor) need to soothe her cousin. "I won't be too long," she promised, remembering the last encounter with a cringe.

He wasn't at register eight. He wasn't visible anywhere, and Leah gnawed at her lip in frustration. Going on instinct, she headed for the groceries, and found him stocking canned soup. He glanced up as she approached.

"Hey…Leah!" God, his smile! "Y'know, we are hiring. You seem to be here enough. Might as well don the smock." He plucked at the polyester with a self-effacing grin. Work here. I could see him every day. But those thoughts were quickly dispelled—the mythical creature thing sort of made her imminently unemployable. Leah had to laugh.

"No, thanks. I'd be an awful employee. I have kind of a short fuse."

He laughed. "Yeah, that might not go over so well. Some of the customers can be…difficult." Still with the smile! He was a force of nature, minestrone in hand.

"No, I actually..." Fuck, this was difficult. "I came to see you."

He was suddenly quite fascinated by the soup, but his cheeks turned an adorable, telling pink. "Oh."

"Yeah. I, uh, wanted to see about that coffee."

"Right."

"Or whatever. I don't even drink coffee. But, y'know. About…seeing you. Preferably outside the Walmart." The words came too fast out of her mouth, all unwieldy and unexpected. But he glanced back at her with that smile, and none of it mattered.

"Give me your phone."

"What?"

"Your cell phone. So I can give you my number."

Shit! Telepathic misanthropes typically had little use for cell phones. "I don't have one."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Huh. Hold on." From his pocket, he produced a receipt, on which he scrawled his number. "Here. Thursdays are good for me. I get off at five."

She felt like she might actually start vibrating, or something equally horrifying. This was worse than phasing, or at least more embarrassing. "Thursday. Cool." She snatched the paper and began to back away, terrified she might otherwise try to touch his hair or something. "I'll call you. But not from my cell phone. Obviously. But I'll call you. Thank you!" Oh, god.

"Sounds good." He was still smiling when she turned back for one final look.