Happy Thanksgiving and Black Friday. :)

Chapter 7

I was having this dream where me and Jake were in the middle of the desert. No food, no water, but we were doing okay, because I had a magic fanny pack that could give you anything you wanted. At the moment, we were trying to get a super big umbrella out of my fanny pack because Jake was getting sunburned by the moon.

Don't ask.

Then all of a sudden, it started raining. So me and Jake get under the umbrella. And it was a good thing we got it out, because a bolt of lightning killed my fanny pack. So we were under the huge, red and white stripped umbrella. But it kept getting smaller. And smaller, until it was the size of a cocktail umbrella. Jake was still trying to get under it.

"C'mon," he said, grinning despite being soaked to the bone. "There's enough room for both of us." I remember sighing, trying to get under the umbrella because it meant so much to him. Then staring in wonder as it grew to its original size. Jake smiled and kissed me. "See? Told ya so."

"Weird dream," I said as I opened my eyes slowly, trying not to let it escape. Don't know why, but it just felt like a dream that I shouldn't forget. My eyes finally focused, and the full memory of what had happened hit me like a train. I closed my eyes again. I have never wanted to live in dreamland so much, where none of this crap happened and it was just me and whoever I wanted to be there.

I stared at my wall, where Jake should have been laying next to me, keeping guard against the evil Italian vampires. My back popped seven times as I sat up in my bed, staring still. The time on my alarm clock blinked at me, indicating that I had slept for a good six hours.

"Shit," I croaked, rubbing the sand out of my eyes. My knees and elbows popped as I got up and walked downstairs, following the sounds of pots and pans. I rounded the corner, pulling my hair into a ponytail and smiled at my dad, who was cooking his famous Sloppy Joes. "Meat? Really?" I asked, my voice still croaky. My dad turned to me, and smiled his old smile. It smelled so good; nothing has ever smelled so good.

"Of course. Laura's still in Seattle; I guess her friend decided to rent a hotel room, so it's just you and me, kid. You want ketchup on yours?" he said, piling meat and chips on two plates.

"Yes, please," I murmured as I wobbled to the table. My dad put the plate in front of me, and turned on some classic rock, the kind that me and him would listen to when we went camping around Mount Olympia. "And thanks, Dad. For everything."

He gave me a weird look, like when I ask him for some extra money. "No problem, kiddo. Now, eat up, you're going to need your strength."

That…was a weird thing to say.

"What?" My Sloppy Joe was half way to my mouth, dripping onto the perfect porcelain. He said it again, staring into my eyes. My eyes moved from my happy father to my steaming dinner, a weird feeling in my stomach. Suddenly, I wasn't as hungry as I thought I was.

"Eat up, you're going to need your strength."

"Dad, I know, you already—"

"Eat up, you're going to need your strength."

"Dad?" I looked at him, and his neck and jaw were twitching, like he had a tick. And behind him, the bodies of my friends…and Jake.

"Eat up—eat up—eat—strength—need—strength—eat up—"

"Well, you don't have to tell me twice," said a slick Italian voice, which I knew only too well. An instant later, I felt immeasurable pain as Felice bit into my neck.

"No!"

My throat was burning from my scream, and I realized I had bolted up in my bed. Jake sat up too, glancing around to make sure there wasn't any danger.

"What happened?" he slurred after making sure nothing was going to eat me. His voice was deeper than normal, his hair was messed up, and he was rubbing his eyes. He had fallen asleep, too. "Ronnie?"

"Nothing," I said, my heart rate returning to normal. "Just a dream. Bad dream."

Jake flopped back down on my bed, threw his arm over his eyes and sighed. He looked so tired, and I had just interrupted his first nap he's had in God-knows-how-long.

"Sorry I woke you," I said, rubbing my arms to make the goose bumps go away. I knew he was rolling his eyes at me. What I didn't expect was when he grabbed my waist and pulled me down next to him. My stomach did a stupid flip and I could feel the blood rushing to my face.

"Don't be stupid," Jake growled, tightening his grip. He rolled to his side so he could stare at me without a problem. "Tell me about it. It'll make you feel better."

I rolled my eyes and swallowed. I wasn't going to say anything unless I had to. Nightmares are silly things. And I don't like to share mine. But Jake has this way with things—well, me, really—where he can get almost anything he wants if he tries.

And this boy was trying.

"Ronnie," he whispered, his fingers stroking my slightly sweaty hair. "Tell me what's wrong. I can't make it better if I don't know what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong!" I said, forcing myself away. I stood and swept my hair back into a ponytail, holding my face in my hands. "It was just a fucking dream! That's all! Nothing concrete, nothing real, nothing! Just nothing!"

"Ronnie." His hand went to pull me back, but I moved away as fast as I could.

"No. I'm not telling you because it doesn't matter. All right? It doesn't fucking matter, so just leave me alone!" I threw my door open and ran downstairs, running out the back door and slamming it behind me.

Like that would really block anything these days.

The door slammed again behind me, no doubt unleashing a werewolf into the world.

"Veronica. Wait—"

"Fuck off, Jake!" I screamed, walking to the front of my house.

Just as Laura pulled into the driveway.

Now, normally, this wouldn't be anything worth noting, except for the way she was staring between Jake and myself. Again, this wouldn't be anything worth noting, given her track record of badly-cloaked racism, except for how Jake and I were dressed.

Or, rather, undressed.

Because you see, when you're sleeping in the same bed with a guy who has a temperature of 107 or something, it gets a little hot, so maybe you take off your T-shirt and hang out in your camisole and shorts. And maybe he doesn't exactly dress to the nines anyways since he, you know, becomes a wolf, so he sticks to jeans and maybe a wife-beater. Plus, both of us had hair that looked like a balloon had done a tap dance on our heads.

So. That makes it noteworthy.

Laura stepped out of her shiny car. Her perfect red mouth dropped open. Her perfectly lined eyes grew wide. My life for the next year or so began to look extremely boring. Again. Her face was glowing red as she held in a wave of curses and blasphemies in respect for her reputation. Until I realized the real reason.

"Jake?"

Everyone's heads swerved to someone else stepping out of the car, someone completely beautiful, but with a weird feeling around her. A weird feeling I recognized all too well. Jake's face looked like he had slammed into a brick wall.

"Bella?"