I think I need to mention that I'm being blackmailed to update this time. I knew telling my friends about this site would be a bad idea and now they're pestering me for new stuff! This is for the lovely Ruby, who so thoughtfully rang me at 7:30 tonight to remind me to update so without further ado:

Chapter 9. Bet me Once, Shame on You
Part One

Sophie

When I woke the next morning, first thing I did was change and duck downstairs to see if that big, ugly creep Anderson was gone and thank god he was because I don't think I could've stand another of his spine-chilling looks. I peeked outside today, wondering how far I might get before Paul appeared in his white mustang and stared at me til I caved. I weighed my chances and sighed, knowing that there was never a chance I'd run away anyway. Despite the fact that it was a terrible idea, I wanted to be his friend. Even if it lead to me being humiliated, it would be nice while it lasted, I tried to console myself.

My shower was cut short by the thumping on the stairs and I froze with my hand on the tap. Dad wouldn't come up here this early. He was still sleeping when I'd checked but there was a groan as the door down the hall slammed, making me flinch. He wasn't going to work today, I thought miserably. If he caught a single glance of Paul and me, it would set him off like gunpowder.

I dressed quickly and silently, digging up my jeans from yesterday, the darker pair of my two and decided, after a few minutes of careful musing over clothes, that I desperately needed to do a wash some time on the weekend. I slipped on a plain brown knit sweater and fiddled with the slight blood stain on the bottom idly. I remembered this shirt, now that I wore it; I remembered it from a while ago when I received the two white scars on my ankle: an incident where I was thrown against a heater and burnt myself badly. But I shook my head, willing myself not to think about any of it.

Paul's dark brown leather jacket sat in the corner of my room and my hand trembled slightly as I picked it up, sliding my arms through the sleeves. I was right, I thought absently, lifting the lapel to my face. It did smell like him. Suddenly I dropped the collar like I'd been electrocuted. I shouldn't do that. I really, really shouldn't. It was just torture to see another friendship dangling in the air before being snatched away and I was not helping the matter by thinking these incessant stupid, stupid thoughts about him. But hope and wishing still twirled around my head like dancers.

Thoughts from last night ran through my head, more specifically of the smell of oaks and sea salt Paul brought with him when he drove me home last night. I rolled my eyes as I picked up my bag and looked at the clock. Ten past eight flashed on the fifth hand clock and I wondered to myself if Paul would actually pick me up this morning or if he'd forgotten and moved on to another girl to harass just as a soft croak came from my father's bedroom.

"Sophie?"

I swallowed, frozen in place, my eyes widening. My breath stopped. I think I forgot how to suck in the air. The only sound I could hear was my dad's whisper, echoing through my head. It wasn't an angry sound or a threatening gesture…it sounded sad, timid almost. My feet moved on my own free will despite the fact that as I reached his doorway, my mind jumped from its static state and screamed at me: RUN! Leave, right NOW!

"Yes Dad?" I whispered, studying the room instead of looking at him. His face was rugged and sleep deprived despite the night's slumber. He always looked like that though so it wasn't much of a surprise. His eyes were red rimmed from drinking and smoking all night. But other than that, he sat at the foot of his unmade bed, bottles and other garbage littering the floor around him in hills as he fingered a worn old photograph that I knew from all my life.

He picked at the edges before looking up and staring me dead in the eye. It was silent for a while and neither of us moved. Did he sense how taut I was about seeing him? Did he sense how I wished to run outside and go to school, anything to get away from the worn and accusing stare that my father had adopted since I was eleven? Or did he see the fractured, twisted hope in my eyes; hope that one day things would be better, if not perfect? Hope, I realised, that had not been there a few days ago. Whatever he saw, he seemed neutral with. "You remember this?" he asked, gruffly, holding up the photo.

I gulped, nodding jerkily. I didn't speak because I didn't think I could hold in the flinching and wincing that was sure to come out if I did. He sighed, running a finger over it. "Good days," he breathed, so softly I barely heard him. In the light, the innocence of the morning, everything in the room, everything we'd done seemed darker.

Against the powder blue walls, the seemingly weak but twisted figure of my father showed the even darker side, one that ate away at him with alcohol and nicotine. The bed and the garbage didn't seem mountainous but flat like the ocean, dark and just as inclined to drown anyone who neared them, namely my father and myself, both of us sitting on two little islands on the water.

The windows let in the light but they didn't let it back out, making the room seem even more like a black hole. I wondered what I looked like. Mom used to call me a little doll, like the little porcelain ones I used to receive. I was thrilled whenever she smiled at me and called me Dolly, or Doll because it made me mean something to her.

But what did I look like now? Still a doll maybe? But different too. Darker perhaps? In the morning light, did I look twisted and fractured like my father? Did I look defeated? Did I look maimed? I remember when I dropped one of the dolls I loved so much, the ones my long dead grandmother sent me every birthday when we lived in Virginia. I remember crying and sobbing when I saw her lovely face cracked, her arms splayed out and one of her legs twisted at an odd angle. Back then, it hadn't been too hard to fix her. If I was the doll, I mused, how hard would it be to fix me?

"So much like Anna…" Dad whispered, faintly as he stared out through his window which faced the south of the front yard where the hydrangeas grew in the corner. They were over grown and crawled out of the bed as if daring someone to clip it back. Suddenly his face hardened and he tossed the picture to the side table and leaning his head in his hands. "Leave. Just…leave." He muttered and I walked, quietly down the staircase, my senses numb as I did.

I sat on the front steps, tentatively watching down the street, hugging the sleeves of Paul's jacket (miraculously overlooked by my father although I was most definitely glad I'd accepted it now) around myself as I tried to think of something other than that broken doll. Because with her cracked face came images of my mother, during her happy days, her kind days, days when I was loved, when I loved others…

Suddenly Paul's mustang drove into view, parking at the curb and he grinned out of the driver's window. I stood up, brushing all my thoughts off and left them on the steps. Making my way over to the car, I smiled at Paul, weakly. "Didn't think I was going to show up did you?" he asked, as if reading my thoughts. I shrugged, sheepishly.

"I'm not used to having people wait on me hand and foot." I said in my defence as he rolled his eyes and pointed at the passenger seat.

"Get in, Sophie." Was it me, or did he sound exasperated? I hopped in, dragging my bag with me. He grinned awfully big when I did and I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

"What?" I asked, self-consciously but he shook his head.

"Nothing. I thought I'd have to tie you to the front seat to get you in the car and now you're going willingly? It's mind blowing." He chuckled as I rolled my eyes and he started the car. As we drove in easy silence, I watched Paul Beckett out of the corner of my eye. Sometimes he'd peek over too and flush the tiniest bit when he saw me watching him. The weird thing was that with anyone else, I would've found it awkward and weird and completely uncomfortable but with Paul…it was an odd feeling but we sort of just clicked. I scoffed internally. I sounded way, way, way too much like Erika, I realised.

My thoughts danced away from me after a few moments, unwillingly to the wolf from last night. I found myself wondering where it was now, what it was doing…whether it would be back tonight. My mind played tricks on me as we sped down the road, the trees blurring into a green curtain. Was that a flash of grey right there? Was the wolf out there? Was it watching me? "Do you know anything about wolves in this area?" I asked, suddenly, blurting it out without a filter.

I should've kept quiet.

The effect my words had on Paul was conspicuous, just like that time I asked about my dented car. His fingers tightened so hard on the steering wheel that the knuckles went bone white and the ring made a whining noise in protest. His jaw clenched and his slouched position went rigidly straight. "What about them?" he asked, stiffly and I was too stunned to make a noise. The mood swings were driving me around the room (as in not just up the wall but across the ceiling and back down to the floor too) and I stammered when I tried to make sense of them in my head out of habit.

So he reacts to wolves oddly? But not just wolves, wolves in La Push. "Nothing really just…are they meant to be so big?" I asked, wondering aloud. The size of the horse-like wolf hadn't really startled me until the morning when I woke up, sure that it'd been a dream until I saw the graze on my ankle…proof that I had actually been standing on the stone arch, proof I'd almost fallen off when the wolf answered me.

Paul laughed, trying to settle back into the slouch from before but you could see through the white shirt he wore (which fit him a lot more snugly than I would've liked considering my position on the 'Friendship' front) that he was still rigid. "So have you seen one of them?" he asked, his laughter slightly edged.

He knows something. Something different…he's nervous he's going to tell me, on accident or something. I tried to silence the voice in brain that was dissecting his every move. It was an annoying voice although it'd saved me on more than one occasion from my father's rages.

"Yeah, last night. It-it was the weirdest thing." I said, my voice going back to my memories. Sleep deprivation made details blurry although the wolf…I could picture it all too well. "I looked outside and there it was-"

"He." Paul broke in, almost absentmindedly and I frowned at him, wondering firstly how he knew and secondly why it mattered to him.

"What?"

"He, the wolf it's a he." His face went from distracted to horrified to calm in the span of three seconds. If you blinked, you would've missed it. "I mean, the big ones are all males. The smaller ones don't usually come up to civilisation, you know." He explained, hastily. I decided to let it go.

He knows about wolves in La Push, he knows about the big ones anyway…

"He then." I agreed, suspiciously. "I looked outside and there he was, just sitting on my front lawn. It was insane and I wondered why he was there and so I opened up my window and sat on the sill, like I used to as a kid you know? And anyway, I did that and it- he- whined and I think I asked him what was wrong and it- he- he answered me." My voice turned amazed. It was getting better in my memory now. "It pointed, with his head at my feet and I stopped swinging them and then I asked him if he, you know, answered me and…it barked."

And he knows something about how he dented my car because no normal person should be able to do that…

Paul laughed, edged again but with something different. "You know you shouldn't have been hanging out of the window in the first place." He ran a hand through his short and jet black hair. "You could've seriously hurt yourself."

"I was fine." I told him, eying the way his hair didn't sit flat, but ruffled back up in a spiky disarray…"But seriously this thing was…insanely big." Paul wore a smirk as we turned into the car park, pulling up into the empty bay. There was at least ten more minutes until school began so I sat back in my seat, ready for an answer.

"I wouldn't worry about the wolves around here…they like La Push people." He said, as if there was some sort of inside joke I wasn't privy to. I shook my head, trying to get rid of my theories that rattled around like marbles and realised I was still wearing Paul's jacket. I blushed, knowing I should've given it back the first time I saw him. I went to slide it off when suddenly Paul held onto my wrist, gently. "What are you doing? If you don't have a jacket, use mine. It's not like I use it anyway."

I could believe that. Simply his grasp on my wrist was like a heat pack, spreading warmth all the way down my arm, seeping into my bones…it took all of my willpower to reclaim my hand. "Thank you, really but I'll grab my jacket off the cleaners. Erika will have a field day if I show up wearing Paul Beckett's leather jacket." I rolled my eyes, mimicking the smitten girls at school and he laughed. I slid the jacket off and handed it back to him and he carefully stowed it away in the back.

"Just in case." He said when I threw him a questioning look. I smiled.

"Just in case the cleaners took a jacket that looks like it's been through a war." I agreed, searching my wrist for a hair lackey to tie my hair up. But I must've forgotten to add one to my wrist this morning because I checked both and none things was there. "Shoot, you wouldn't happen to have a rubber band around here or something would you?" I asked, checking my pockets and making my hair pop out from behind my ears.

I could have sworn I heard the very lightest gasp before I turned to Paul and frowned, questioningly. His face was dead sober as he raised one hand and gently, oh so lightly, tucked the locks of hair behind my ears again. My eyes wavered in their sockets just the tiniest bit and I cursed myself. Cut it OUT Sophie! His hand slid around to my jaw, skimming it lightly before resting at the side of my neck. My face went red and pink and god knows what else at his warm touch. "I like your hair out." He whispered, running his hand through the hair around my shoulders.

Well when he put it like that…

There was a loud whistle and both our faces snapped to look out the windshield. Paul's friends were gathered around the school stairs, smirking and I think I even saw a few of them exchanging money like a bet. When they saw they had our attention, they all lifted the arms and waved, deliberately at us both, in complete unison, as if they were one person in a Hall Of Mirrors or a series of clones. Well, I thought, ducking my head and trying to sink into the ground. I've been publicly humiliated enough.

And I'd bet it's something to do with his friends, why they all look so old and big…

Not the time! I screamed back at the voice.

The car started to shake a little and remembering last time, I looked over, startled at Paul whose eyes were tightly closed and his hands looked ready to snap the steering wheel in half. My eyes widened. Was he having a seizure or something? Jesus, what was going on with this boy? Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted, inattentively, a few of the others frowning making a step towards us but I ignored them as I reached out to touch his arm, fearing an epileptic fit or something. "Paul? Paul!"

The shaking stopped as soon as I asked his name but I didn't move my arm until his eyes opened. "Paul?" I asked, firmly with concern. He looked me dead in the eye with something a little like wary astonishment. "Are you okay?"

Paul shook his head and for a moment I touched my hand to his forehead, thinking about what on earth could cause this kind of violent tremors when I realised it wouldn't help to take his temperature considering…"Why are you so hot?" I asked before realising how that sounded and blushing furiously. Paul chuckled as I withdrew my hand, rapidly. "I didn't mean it like that…I mean, you are…but you're also…and its more to do with the temperature than anything…it's…you…I…oh screw it." I grumbled, defeated.

Paul grinned, his whole face lighting up. "You think I'm hot?"

"Yes…I mean no…it's not-" I stammered, still blushing. I got the feeling he was doing this just to make my cheeks flush, from the look on his face.

"I'm not hot?" he pouted, looking ridiculous as he did. "That's awful to say Sophie."

"I didn't mean it like that. You're…what I meant to say was…I mean, it's difficult-" I couldn't form coherent sentences, I decided, with him this close to me and smiling like that.

"To tell how hot I am?" he asked. I went four more shades redder and groaned.

"Please stop avoiding the question and tell me why you're running a temperature of five hundred degrees?" I grumbled, not meeting his eyes for fear that that four shades of red would go into over drive.

"Well it's not actually five hundred, that's just silly Sophie-" Don't look at him, don't look at him, don't look at- "It's more like a hundred and eight."

"What!?" I snapped, my eyes bugging out of my head. "Paul, have you seen a doctor lately?"

"No, it's a normal symptom or so I'm told." He shrugged it off and I frowned, questioningly. His absurdly handsome face became mischievous in an instant. "I'm secretly on a new governmental drug like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. That's why I'm so big and all, you know." He teased and I rolled my eyes.

"Have you even read 'Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde'?" I asked, amused. Paul's face scrunched up.

"I might've used it as a pillow in class one time." He offered, squinting. I giggled and whacked his arm, playfully. He grinned again, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree. "You know, you just laughed at my joke and then hit me as a joke." He commented, slyly. I nodded, my brows furrowing slightly, trying to figure out when this became breaking news. "Which means that we are acting like-"

"Friends." I finished for him and sighed. "Paul, I've told you, I am a terrible, terrible person to have as a friend." I was, I so, so was. I kept secrets, I lied, I could never go out, I wasn't even the same grade as him, I could never have him over, my father would tell him everything if he ever found out and he'd give me hell for it too…

"You," he growled softly looking straight at my eyes. "could never be a terrible person Sophie, no matter what you think of yourself."

I smiled weakly. Erika told me that from time to time, although they were empty words to an even emptier heart. "Thanks Paul. I'm still standing by my statement though." I told him, opening the door and getting out of the car. Paul smiled, almost as if he couldn't help himself and yanked a ratty looking bag out of the back seat.

"Well, I'll just have to change your mind then." He murmured, appearing beside me in a few short steps. He truly towered over me; I'd never noticed because sitting in the car evened us out a little. The bell rang and I smiled at Paul as I clambered up the steps, peeking over everyone else to see if Erika had arrived yet. She spotted me easily enough and then spotted Paul and her face broke out into a scowl before she waved me over furiously. "What's she want?" he asked, amused and annoyed. He probably remembered Erika from when she screamed her head off at him in the parking lot the other day.

"To ask me why she saw me rock up in your car today." I muttered, more resigned than anything else. I turned to Paul and smiled. "Thank you, again."

"Five again after school?" he asked, eagerly. I laughed and shook my head.

"I don't get you. You really, really, want to be my friend don't you?" I asked, trying to keep the amazement out of my voice. Paul was fighting me to be my friend. The simple idea had my head spinning but Paul shrugged, smirking. And god, he looked really, really, really good when he did that…more and more like Erika every day, I berated myself internally.

"You got me there. Five again after school?"

I studied him, speculatively before the bell rang again and people began to file inside again. "Sure. Thanks Paul, for…you know, everything."

Paul bowed, mockingly. "Your wish is my command."

"Then I wish you would get to class and actually come up with a decent excuse for your temperature." I snickered as his face went paler. He'd thought I'd forgotten about it, that he was so clever changing the subject…right.

I waved goodbye and shuffled over to Erika, who narrowed her eyes at me. "Sophie…" she said in a warning voice.

"Rika…" I copied, not meeting her eyes. She cast a single long look over her shoulder before giggling and nudging me.

"Don't look now but Beckett is totally staring at you."

And so began the day of Erika's Eternal Amusement.

---

I walked into Mathematics, the only class I didn't have with Erika, with a tired face. My head kept trying to fly back to the steps of my house, to the conversation I had with my father this morning. I sat down and pulled out my books, reading through the chapters that were meant for today…chapters that I was ashamed to say, I'd already read and covered. Erika was right, I was such a nerd.

The law of sines (also known as the sine rule) for arbitrary triangle states: a/sin A = b/sin B = c/sin C = 2R -

"Sophie right?" a deep voice asked and my head snapped up so fast the stranger flinched. I'm sure I looked stunned because people rarely talked to me unless it was to find out the homework of the past few days or to ask me to move. Very, very rarely did one of these people actually know my name.

When I looked up, I'm sure I went from stunned to heart-attacked because none other than Jacob Black was staring down at me, looking slightly uneasy. I recognised him as one of the clones from this morning and my cheeks blushed furiously as I nodded. "Yes…"

His face brightened considerably upon realising he got my name right. "Hi, I'm Jacob." He claimed, holding out a hand. "I sit next to you in this prison."

I was startled into a smile as I took his hand, almost withdrawing immediately when I felt the same temperature as Paul. Weird…"Prison is a little harsh." I said, softly, not knowing what else to say. He slumped into his seat.

"Really? I was going to go with hell but then if it were hell, there wouldn't be calculators to do the work for us." He grinned. "But seriously, you're Sophie right? The one Paul won't shut up about?"

My cheeks went as red as apples but I couldn't hold back a smile. "I'm Sophie but I don't know about the other…" I confirmed, modestly. Jacob laughed.

"I knew it." He declared. "You were the only one who was actually reading the text book and from what I hear, you study outside of school too?" he explained, his face looking a bit green at the possibility. I really didn't get why people were so opposed to school but then again, I didn't get out much. If I did, I supposed I would hate it as much as the next person.

"Y-yeah b-but it's more out of routine…really." I pointed out, lamely. This, this was why I didn't like people talking to me. I got embarrassed way, way too easily.

"Routine?" Jacob echoed, sounding choked. I nodded. "Exactly how far ahead are you?"

I sighed, doing a few quick mathematical calculations in my head. "Well…I've covered parts of next terms assignments from the briefs and a looked through a few of the new textbooks so I'd say around a semester ahead?" It came out in a tiny voice sounding more like a question. I didn't make eye contact, hoping he'd leave me alone now. I really hated talking to people, it made me nervous and quiet and tiny and-

Jacob broke out in laughter, bright, loud laughter. "Are kidding me? That is awe-some." He split the word in two as he grinned at me. The teacher was late but everyone had already filed in and a few people that weren't too interested in their conversations were a bit too interested in mine; they stared at little, quiet Sophie getting attention from one of the 'La Push Gang' members. Because I just love attention.

"Th- thanks." I said, softly, trying to get back to my chapters, hoping he'd stop talking to me.

"So do you actually get what's written in there?" he asked, slouching in his seat and pointing to the book. I smiled, wryly.

"That's kind of the point, Jacob." I pointed out quietly. Jacob grinned and waved his hand dismissively.

"Sure, sure. Call me Jake though, everyone else does." He said airily. "Sophie," it was so extremely odd to hear my name from him and not Erika or Paul or the teachers. No one really bothered knowing my name if they could help it. "Can you explain something to me please?" He looked dead serious and I nodded, hesitantly. "What the hell is this class about?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "We've been back for almost three weeks and you don't know what the class is about?" I clarified, amused. Jacob shrugged as the teacher flew in, his arms stacked up with papers.

"Good afternoon students, we have to get on with this lesson, we have to cover quadratic unsolvable ratios with a highest common multiple of negative degrees today, so pens out and begin taking notes!" he gushed out in one breath and Jacob's jaw dropped before he smirked and leaned over to me.

"Psst, Hermione," he hissed and I turned to him, momentarily surprised.

"Hermione?" I repeated, not quite sure I wanted to know what the reasoning behind that was.

Jacob grinned however, brightly. "Yeah, you know Hermione of Harry Potter. She was the one that knew everything two years in advance. Anyway, I know what the class is about now." He whispered and I was quite close to rolling my eyes.

"Really?" I asked, a very slight smile on my face. "And what is that?"

"Big words I don't really know how to spell."

---

Paul

"Tell me I'm good," Jake declared, sliding into his seat at the cafeteria table with a smug smile. I grunted, digging into the questionable meat on my plate. It was meat, I could tell that much but it was in blood red liquid and yellow salsa looking something on top. I'm sure you're imagining something tomato soup-ish cuisine but unfortunately…it looked like a dandelion's head had exploded and landed in a bowl of blood. Ergh. Embry and Quil looked up though and simultaneously groaned.

"You didn't! Man, that's messed up!" Quil moaned, while he fished for his wallet in his jean shorts. Jacob laughed, triumphantly and Embry rolled his eyes while he forked over twenty bucks.

"What's all this money exchanging hands that I'm not part of?" Collin asked as he sat down with his plate piled high. Jacob fanned himself with the forty bucks while Quil kicked the table out of annoyance.

"Jake won the bet, dirty cheater." He grumbled, crossing his arms. Seth and Brady appeared next, already eating and walking. I looked on confusedly and Jared winced as Jacob held out his hand to him, smirking.

"No, no, no, you ain't getting my money yet. There's gotta be proof Jake, proof." He insisted as Seth raised his head, interested.

"Proof of what? Oh god, tell me you didn't go ahead with that lame-ass bet…" he took silence as confirmation and slammed into a seat down from me. "Sweet Jesus…"

Suddenly it clicked and I growled, low and threatening. Because there was only one bet that Seth would call completely moronic and stupid and that was the Imprint Bet. How did I not see this coming?! "Who started it?" I hissed, my fists beginning to shake. It made more sense now: the grinning and waving before school, the money passing hands, why I hadn't been in on the bet to begin with…

The guys stared down at their plates, sheepishly while I scanned their faces. Jared caught my eye and winced. "Jared?! What the hell man, I thought you'd be against this after what happened last time!" I moaned, glaring at all of them. Shameless now that someone had owned up to it, the rest of the Pack dug into their food, happily.

"Sorry man but to be fair, I thought I could make some quick money," he shrugged. "You stole the fifty bucks I made last week in the stores in that other stupid dare."

The Imprint Bet was the Alphabets idea, of course. It basically a bet to see who the new inducted imprint of the Pack liked the best (bar the said Imprinter) and the winner got an easy twenty bucks off everyone who entered. This was roughly $120 if you didn't count Seth (who refused any part of it, claiming it was a dumb idea to begin with), Sam (who couldn't be bothered) and Leah (who was like Seth in that she thought it was stupid…except she got violent if we ever thought about it on patrol. Needless to say even if she entered she probably wouldn't win)

Of course, this had only come around after Jared imprinted: we couldn't make the bet on Emily or we'd cop it big time from Sam. Kim liked to pretend that we'd never made the bet at all in her case because they were three weeks of her life that were spent with six massive werewolves asking her every three seconds who she liked best. Course, Embry won that time. And they were just dying to try it out for the second time.

But it really just ticked me off because the little I did know about Sophie included that she would feel very…overwhelmed. She practically had a fit when I started paying her attention and with this stupid bet…the shaking got worse but the rest of the Pack didn't even blink an eye. They were used to my mood swings and trusted I'd be able to bring it under control in time. Think about Sophie…but that made me shake even more, thinking about how uncomfortable she'd be around the guys; she was barely warming up to me. Okay, think about Ma…she'd be pissed if you broke another cafeteria table…Zoe would get bragging rights for eternity…can't have that…

"So Jake, how'd you know she likes you best?" Embry called over and Quil's eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, how do I know you aren't ripping me off man?" he said, suspiciously. Jacob pouted, mock-hurt as I calmed down.

"Would I do that to you?" he whined, putting his hands over his heart. The entire pack snorted in unison.

"Hell yes." Embry said, glaring at Jacob. He rolled his eyes and smirked.

"Well besides that lack of faith you guys show in me, I got math with her, she actually knows the shit. I've got a permanent translator for the rest of the year and besides, she's wicked funny. And I made her laugh. Twice." Everyone groaned except for Jared who sized Jacob up, thoughtfully.

"We'll wait for the bonfire nonetheless though. Just to make certain." He declared, flicking some of the highly questionable lunch meat at Jake's face. He beamed.

"I'm getting money, I'm getting money," he chanted, handing back the money to Embry and Quil.

I couldn't help what happened next.

I was pissed, I'll freely admit. I was pissed that Sophie laughed twice with Jacob in one period of math and every laugh I got with her was cut short by her reminding herself that she wasn't meant to be my friend. Or anything else past that. So maybe I was more than angry, maybe I was a little jealous too. I didn't exactly care about the reason much. I'd looked around the cafeteria when I first sat down but I decided that if she hadn't been there yesterday, she probably wouldn't be there today and made a mental note to ask where she went for lunch. But as she wasn't here, I quickly thought, my next action wouldn't affect her in the slightest.

In little less than a split second, my questionable lunch meat was sailing through the air and landed (coincidentally) on Jacob's head…Oops.

In little more than a split second, the rest of the cafeteria had frozen and all eyes were on our table. Quil let out a low whistle and Jared bit his lip in apprehension. Seth, Brady and Collin shook with silent laughter as Jacob wiped the muck out of his eyes and smiled, viciously at me.

Next thing I knew, I had a dark brown sludge headed in my direction and I ducked, just in time to see it smack Bradley Crossman in the back of the head. Crossman was a prick and it was a well known fact amongst the general population. But he was also a basketball star and a prick. Guess which one people payed more attention to huh?

Crossman turned a furious expression on his Colgate-worthy mouth as he grabbed the spaghetti in the lunchmeat (now that I looked closer, it really did have noodles in the bottom) and flung it across the cafeteria with the words "FOOD FIGHT!" as a battle cry.

All I could think was sweet merciful crap because sadly it doesn't take much more than that coming from a jock to get the students of La Push into a food war.

---

No one owned up to throwing the first food. I knew that everyone else knew it was me, despite the fact that Crossman and Jacob threw food too. I knew the teachers knew, I knew the students knew, I knew that Miss Bronte knew. But I also knew that no one would turn me in because I was allegedly part of a gang and the teachers had no proof otherwise.

Sometimes, it really, really, really, rocks to be a werewolf.

Did you know that this chapter is NINE pages long?? I sure didn't. I got carried away writing it. I got a little poetic with the whole Sophie/Dad confrontation…can't help it, I'm a sucker for dramatisation!

I hope you enjoy the Imprint Bet…it will be a reoccurring theme for the rest of the story.

Review please,

Tress Blues