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Chapter Ten

The next morning, I was feeling more rested than I had in weeks.

Of course, that may have been due to the fact that it was nearly twelve in the afternoon when I finally woke up, so I'd been asleep for roughly twenty-four hours.

I stood up and walked to my closet to pick out an outfit for the day. I noticed that my leg was a little stiff, but at least I wasn't gasping with pain every time I took a step…thanks to Carlisle, I'm sure. Once I was dressed, I made my way downstairs where my dad was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the paper.

"I thought the cliché was coming downstairs to find your father reading the paper in the morning, not the afternoon," I commented, getting his attention.

"Oh…Freya. You're up." He smiled at me, folding the paper and putting it down on the table. "Are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich, or something…"

"I'm good," I replied. "But thanks."

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, looking worried. "Your leg healed up ok?"

"Oh, yeah, I feel loads better," I chuckled, remembering how badly my leg had hurt me just twenty-four hours ago. Oh, yeah, I was definitely feeling better. I'd have to call up a few people and apologize for yelling at them the day before…

"Jake called," Dad announced unceremoniously as he flipped through the paper. "He wanted to stop by, but I told him you were asleep. He says hi."

"Jake called?" I breathed, my heart beating just a little bit faster. Hey- look at that! He did care whether I lived or died! "I guess I'll have to call him back later, then…"

"Sure," my father shrugged.

"Have you heard from Sam?" I inquired while I dug around in the refrigerator for anything edible, seeing as I was absolutely famished. I settled on some leftover pizza I found somewhere in the back of the fridge. Not caring enough to heat it up in the microwave, I took a bite out of the crust.

"That's weird," my dad commented.

I shrugged. "Never claimed to be normal," I pointed out as I spat the pizza out into the trashcan. I guess I just didn't notice the mold when I got it out of the fridge… "So…have you heard from Sam?" I repeated myself. "I need to know when to go on patrol."

"No…he told me to give you a day or two off," he informed me. "You've had a rough month."

I frowned, thinking about the past month that I'd had. Let's see…I'd a) maybe imprinted on my enemy's friend b) been attacked by a group of pervs down in Port Angeles c) been attacked by my father in wolf form for going to a bookstore that reminded him a little too much of my mother d) kissed my best friend e) become best friends with my enemy, and f) been attacked by a vampire. Hmm…yeah. Not the best month ever, I guess.

"Wow…this has been a crappy month," I realized for the first time. Only I could run into that much trouble within such a short period of time without even trying.

"Watch your language, Freya," my father growled, looking menacingly at me over his paper.

I chuckled. "You let me run around the forest, beating up vampires…but you scold me for using bad language? You really have your priorities straight, Dad," I teased him.

To my surprise, he heaved a heavy, labored sigh that made me want to reach over and give the poor guy a hug. "Freya…I don't have my priorities straight. They've been all out of whack ever since your mother left us."

"You're doing fine, Dad," I assured him gently.

"No," he argued. "I'm not doing fine. I neglect my children, Freya. I don't even know when to pick you up from soccer practice anymore."

"Dad…I quit soccer last year," I reminded him, chewing on my lip nervously. It made me really uncomfortable to see Dad like this. Normally, he was always so sure of himself to the point of being almost arrogant. Now…he was feeling insecure and vulnerable, and I knew it. It was really starting to freak me out.

"Really?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Do you see my point?" he groaned, looking as if he were about to start yanking the newly darkened hair right off his head. "I've been such a horrible father, to you and to Tony. It isn't fair to either of you, and I'm sorry. You've already had your mother taken from you- you shouldn't have to lose a father, as well."

"You lost someone, too, Daddy," I whispered. "And I get it- I was upset too, for a while. But…I'm over it now," I shrugged. "She's gone. She didn't love us enough to stick around, and she left. She obviously doesn't miss us too much- why should we extend that courtesy to her?"

"I wish I could think of it the way you do, Freya," he sighed. "I really do."

"Why did she leave?" I asked, voicing the thought carefully. It was something I'd wanted to know ever since she'd packed up the minivan and driven off almost a year ago. Never before had I gathered up enough courage to ask, though- I'd been too afraid of what my father would do. But now…I knew that he was never going to lose control around me again. I could tell by the way he was eyeing the scars on my shoulders…the scars he'd created.

"It was my fault," he admitted. "Just like everything else."

"Daddy…don't talk like that," I scolded him.

"We had…an argument," He admitted, folding his paper and laying it down on the table.

"About what?"

"You."

"Me?" I gasped, shocked.

He nodded miserably. "It was right after your first transformation. Do you remember how proud I was of you?" he chuckled. "My little werewolf girl."

I laughed with him, smiling as I remembered the way his face had lit up when I'd finally figured out how to transform back into myself. I'd been shaking with fear, seriously confused, and not to mention extremely upset because I'd accidentally ripped up my dress for Homecoming. Dad had been glowing with pride. He'd hugged me, and perched me on his shoulders. He'd taken me down to Sam's house and bragged about how I'd phased back in record time. And then he'd taken me shopping for a new dress.

"Well…" he continued, "your mother wasn't very excited, if you recall. She could hardly handle living with one werewolf…having two in the family nearly drove her up the wall. Finally, she just said that she couldn't take it anymore. That she was leaving. And then she was gone."

Was it just me, or could I see a tear forming in the corner of his eye?

"I'm sorry, Daddy." I came up behind him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. I hated seeing him cry.

"She was my imprint," he continued. "It wasn't like I could go after her, or try to get her back. Even now…I just want her to be happy."

"I love you, Daddy," I reminded him, kissing my father on the forehead.

"I love you, too, sweetheart," he smiled, kissing me on the cheek. "Do you want me to stay home from work today? I don't have to go in…if you need me to stay…"

"No, I'll be fine," I assured him with a smile. "Go ahead and go- I'll still be in one piece when you get back, I promise."

"You'd better be," he growled playfully in my ear, hugging me tightly. "Love you, baby," he reminded me, kissing my hair. "I'll see you tonight."

"Ok," I grinned, watching him walk out the door. "Drive safely!"

"I always do!" he called back as he shut the door behind him and climbed into his car.

I couldn't believe it- I simply could not believe it. I sunk down on the sofa, and turned the new information over in my mind, scarcely daring to believe any of it. Could it possibly be that the reason he'd been ignoring me was because he thought that I hadn't wanted to be around him? That I'd blamed him for Mom's sudden disappearance?

And here I thought that your parents were supposed to be so much older and wiser.

Hah. Yeah, right.

Eventually, I decided that no matter how long or hard I thought about it, I would never be able to understand the way my father's mind worked. Instead of trying to figure it out, I pulled out my cell phone and started to dial Owen's number.

Of course, I then realized that I didn't actually have his number. Thus, I pulled out the enormous, dusty old phone book out of an upstairs closet. When I finally found his home phone number, I gave it a ring.

"Hello?" Owen's father answered on the third ring. "Who is this?"

"Hey, Mr. Anderson!" I exclaimed with a grin. "This is Freya Lust…Owen's friend. Can I talk to him for a sec?"

"Umm…sure," he decided hesitantly. "I'll go get him."

I heard some shouting in the background, and a little shuffling around. At last, Owen's voice filled my mind. "Hey, Freya!" he exclaimed. "I've been meaning to call you, but I couldn't find your number anywhere."

"Hey, Owen, I was wondering if you wanted to go see that movie tonight?" I offered. "Face Punch II."

"Oh…I kind of already saw it," he admitted. "With that girl- Lydia. It was really, really good."

"Oh…"

"But we can go see something else!" he added hurriedly. "Like, ah, that one chick flick that came out. Don't remember the name, but Lydia said it was supposed to be pretty good."

"Ah…sure," I shrugged. "Why not."

"There's a showing of it at nine," he continued.

"Sounds great."

"Alright-y then! I'll meet you there. Can't wait to see you tonight!"

"Right…bye, Owen," I frowned, hanging up the phone.

"I'll meet you there,"? What the hell was that supposed to mean? This was a date, right? Right?! Because that had kind of been my intention. Then he goes and is all like, "Oh, Freya, I've already seen this totally awesome movie, but how about we see this other sad, depressing love story instead, even though I know for a fact that you've seen it already? We'll go at nine o'clock at night, when all the perverted, annoying teenagers will be sitting in the front making out, and I won't even offer you a ride there. You'll just have to walk. But I can't wait to see you!"

Again- what the hell?

Nobody knows how to insult a girl better than Owen Anderson, apparently. Sighing, I tucked my phone in my pocket and went upstairs to grab a book. I jumped out the second-story window with ease, landing in my favorite spot underneath a huge, green, shady tree. Leaning against the tree, I cracked open my most recent Michael Crichton and began to read.

After two hours of filling my brain with conspiracy theories and whatnot, I started to get a prickly sort of feeling on the back of my neck…you know, that feeling that somebody's watching you? I looked up, sideways, all around…until I finally caught the glimpse of the leaves rustling up in the branches of a nearby tree.

"I can see you," I sighed.

To my surprise, Jacob Black dropped out of the tree, landing gracefully next to me. "Hey," he greeted me, stealing my book.

"Give that back," I chuckled, snatching at the book in his hands. He held it out of my reach, making good use of his unnatural height and his uncanny ability to annoy the living daylights out of me. "Please?" I begged, sticking my bottom lip out in a pathetic sort of pout.

"Alright," he grinned. "Here you go. Since you asked nicely, and all."

"What are you doing here, anyway?" I asked, collapsing back against the tree with a huff. "I thought you were hanging out with Bella today."

"Nah," he shrugged. "I'd rather hang out with you."

I blushed, trying to swing my hair in front of my face to hide my embarrassment. "I'm sure you've got something better to do," I muttered.

"Nope," he grinned. "Sorry- you're stuck with me."

"I've lived through worse," I laughed as he wrapped his ridiculously muscular arm around my shoulder. All I could say was- thank God Leah and I didn't have muscles like that. The steroid police would be all over us…

"Yeah, I guess you—"

He stopped mid-sentence to stare at me. His eyes had that amused, mischievous sparkle to them that made me want to run for cover.

"What?" I asked, laughing lightly to cover up my unease. That look never meant anything good- it generally meant that Jake was about to make fun of me for something.

"What are you doing?" he asked me with a grin. "Are you- no. You're not checking me out, are you?"

I thought guiltily back to just a moment before when I'd been staring at his gorgeous face and crazy-buff arms and chest. Crap- I was blushing again. "No, of course I wasn't," I snapped. "What are you on, anyway?"

"Aw, it's ok," he teased me, flexing his arm a little. "If I were you, I'd be checking myself out, too."

"You are so full of yourself, Jacob Black!" I exclaimed, shoving him playfully as a smile crossed my face.

He caught my hand in his, holding it tightly as he stared intently into my eyes. His hand reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair out of my eyes in such a gentle manner it had me blushing all over again.

"I really like you, Clip," he whispered, leaning forward so that his breath tickled my cheeks.

I realized then that I was pretty crazy about him, too- I took a leap of faith, so to speak, and crushed my lips against his.

It was amazing- like the pieces of my life, being the crazy, insane puzzle that it was, were finally starting to fall into place. I swear, if I had wings, I would have been absolutely soaring.

But then Jake went and ruined it by pushing me away.

"That was really nice and all, Clip," he said, looking impossibly sad and incredibly embarrassed as he stood up and started to walk away, "but you're not Bella. I'm in love with Bella- you're just not enough like her."

"But Jake!" I called after him, tears streaming down my face. He didn't turn around, didn't listen to me…he just kept on walking down the road, into the forest. I could see that he had Bella on his arm, and she was smirking at me, laughing. I felt an intense hate bubble up inside me when I heard that laugh…that high, tinkling, carefree laugh that Jake seemed to love so much…

"Freya."

I opened my eyes, surprised to see how dark it had gotten under the tree. "Freya, wake up," my Dad was saying, shaking me gently. "Are you alright?" he asked me, looking worried.

"Yeah…I'm fine…" I looked around me, blinking. So…it had been a dream? It had all been a dream. Jake hadn't emerged from the trees- hadn't let me kiss him, then blown me off.

Oh, thank God!

"You were crying," my father accused me, wiping the tears away with his index finger.

"Bad dream," I shuddered. It was the truth- I would definitely classify this experience as a nightmare. Note to self- do not, I repeat, NOT, let yourself fall asleep reading science fiction novels outside your house. Bad things are bound to happen.

"Well…come inside," he frowned. "You should get something to eat."

"What time is it?" I asked, yawning.

"It's almost eight thirty."

"Oh that late?" I frowned. "I've been out here for a while…come on, Dad," I said, letting him pull me up off the grass. "I'll make you something to--Oh, crap!" I exclaimed, suddenly remembering what I was supposed to do that night. "I've got to go…I've got a date with Owen tonight!"

"Owen? Who's Owen?"

"He's a friend," I shrugged. "I told him I'd go to a movie with him…but I've really got to go!" I dashed upstairs and got myself into the shower, out again, and looking presentable, all in fifteen minutes- a record for me. Once I was ready, I ran out the door and hopped in Riff's truck.

"Do you want the keys, sweetheart?" my dad called to me from the kitchen as I flew by.

"Not enough time!" I exclaimed. I hot-wired the car expertly (ironically enough, Riff was the one who taught me this remarkable trade when I was little) and had the car up and running in less than a minute. I drove way above the speed limit, and still managed to be three minutes later.

"You're late," Owen accused with a sigh as he met me in the parking lot.

"Sorry," I panted, not offering any more apology or explanation than that. He didn't deserve one- he was lucky I'd even bothered to show up. Yet he had the nerve to be all ticked off because I was a few minutes late. Poor boy, had to wait in the parking lot for a few extra minutes…he could have at least gone ahead and bought the tickets.

Feeling irritated and frustrated already, I was not looking forward to this date with Owen. The dream I'd had really wasn't helping matters much. I just kept thinking about how awesome it was to have Jake's lips on mine…

Then I'd catch Owen staring at me, probably wondering what in the world was making me stare off into the distance, completely lost in my own thoughts…guess this was going to be a really long date.

Well, at least he'd been smart enough to buy me chocolate at the concession stand.

Please don't hate how I ended this chapter...I mean, I understand if you yell at me for the whole Jake-Dream thing- I was kind of yelling at myself while I was writing it. But SOMEBODY had to let Freya know how completely and totally PERFECT Jake was for her. It might as well have been her subconscious.

Anyway...I hope you liked this chapter! I'll admit, it's not the best one out there, but I hope you liked it none the less.

Penny for your thoughts?;)