That last chapter with Josie was one of my favorites...And guess what? I am now officially out of school, so I can now write the whole entire day and not worry about people judging me. These next few chapters were written out of order, so if it's a little confusing emotionally or something, that would be why... I'm not sure if I say this in the chapter, but it takes place a day or two after the last chapter. Thanks for reading, reader friends! Read on!

I shoved the rest of the books that I did not need back into my locker, slamming the metal door shut with a clang before they could fall back out. Moments later I turned around, only to be stopped immediately by the sight of Embry's broad, capable expanse of a chest, covered in a snugly fitting black tee-shirt.

All I can say is that they don't call him Embry 'Pectorals' Call for nothing.

For a moment I savored the delicious little spark that leaped from my heart to my throat, the swelling in my chest like a balloon about to pop. I was suddenly more aware of my body, self-concious under his gaze. Looking in the mirror that morning at what Cosmo called a 'boyish figure' but what I called complete bullshit, the only asset I could see where my legs. Viewed from a certain angle they could look a bit manly, what with all of the quad and calf-muscle action going on (it's all those damn hills), but I figured the tights would cover those up. Thick, black tights, jeans shorts, lace-up boots, and a tucked in flannel. Dressing in the mornings was a struggle, my thought process being along the lines of: You know, I should probably attempt to wear something cute today, but the problem is that I don't give a single shit...

All things considered, I had spent so much effort on this outfit, I ought to be going to a freaking wedding.

It apparently paid off, because Embry's eyes raked down and back up again in a way that made me blush, even though that was the exact reaction I was had been going for. The corner of his lips lifted in a tiny smile, and his eyes settled on mine like a warm, wool blanket.

But not the scratchy kind. The sexually alluring kind.

Dang, ignore that metaphor.

Anyways, our eyes met-and not for the first time that day.

During lunch, I had caught sight of him just as I was trying to find a place to sit, in my hand a bagged lunch of Red Bull, carrots, and Goldfish. He had taken a step towards me, but I frantically widened my eyes and looked pointedly at his usual place near Chase and Jordan and their posse. I already knew his supposed opinion regarding what other people thought about him due to yesterday, but I still wasn't fully on board of the "to hell with our supposed social lives" boat. Basically, I did not want staring, I did not want rumors, and I did not want Embry to know how embarrassingly small my friend group was.

He rolled his eyes a little, and took another step towards me. I stomped my foot a little, initiating some weird stares from the people around me, and once again looked pointedly at the table where he usually sat. When he kept advancing across the lunch room, I sat down determinedly in the only vacant seat at a table with a group of sophomores I had never seen before in my life. He raised his eyebrows at me from across the room, like, "You honestly think that's going to stop me?" But I gritted my teeth and glared at him, and he eventually slowly walked back to Chase, who was staring at me with a gaze akin to how one might stare at a pair of mating walruses or something.

Mission accomplished. Even though I had to sit with the sophomores for the rest of the period, wishing that I was instead sitting with Embry even though I had gone to such great lengths to avoid just that. You see what this boy was doing to me? I was turning bipolar.

If he was in any way offended by our previous reaction, though, he didn't show it.

"Hey," he greeted, seemingly not even trying to cover up the fact that his eyes kept darting to my legs.

"Hey," I answered, biting my lip to keep from beaming. I curled my toes inside of my shoes, loving and hating the way his gaze made my skin hot. I took a deep breath. "So," I stated. "Yesterday."

"Yeah?" He asked, eyebrows raising.

Do you actually really like me, or was that just to get your keys? Can you walk me home again? Why didn't you notice me before? I really want to hate you because it would make things so much easier, but I don't think I can.

"You never explained why you needed your keys so bad."

He sighed, resting an elbow against a nearby locker and leaning on it briefly, not meeting my eyes. After a handful of seconds without speaking I started to wonder whether or not he would answer.

"Calla?" He finally asked.

"Embry?"

"Why were you so worried about me meeting Josie?"

I had been expecting some kind of amazing and touching revelation, so his question left me reeling. "Um, okay, blatant subject change on me, that's cool-"

"Are you walking home again?"

I stared at him for another moment, his dark green eyes probing. "What? Can we please stay on one topic?"

He apparently took that as an affirmative, because he started walking out the school doors, absently slipping his hand through the strap of my backpack which I had been holding in front of me with both hands, swinging it easily on his shoulder before I could protest.

"I'll walk you home. If you tell me about Josie, I'll tell you about me."

"Okay..." I agreed reluctantly, hurrying to keep up with him. A basketball somebody had thrown came bouncing towards us, and he caught it easily in one hand, the muscles in his arms stretching as he threw it across the distance of the parking lot as easily as if it were a bouncy ball. I took another deep breath.

"It's not a big deal, really. It's just, the last time I introduced her to my boyfriend-I mean, the last time I introduced her to somebody, it was my boyfriend," I quickly corrected, my face heating up. Embry's eyes slid over to mine. I couldn't tell whether or not he was smiling. "Anyways, when I did, she kind of hid in one of the kitchen cabinets. And cried."

There was more to the story. 'More' meaning that there was also the tiny fact that the reason my little sister said she had cried was because he was, in her words, 'a bad boy.' When asked why she thought this, she said it was because Momma had told her.

Right. Honey, Momma's been dead for two years.

It wasn't the first time that she had claimed that our dead mother talked to her. I decided to keep this to myself.

"Geez," he said incredulously. "What kind of guys do you date?"

"He wasn't that bad. He smoked and wore dirty wifebeaters, but-"

"He wore what?"

"Wifebeaters. You know, like the kind of tank top."

"Oh, right. Okay. I thought you meant he wore gloves or something and was beating you with them."

I couldn't help but crack a smile. "You're an idiot," I said looking over at him. Our eyes met, and he smiled.

I noticed that he didn't do a lot of smiling. He did a lot of smirking, a lot of casually-lifting-of-the-lips-in-a-teasing-manner, but not a lot of real smiling. He had a wonderful smile, I noted to myself. It made him look like he was in the middle of a laugh, and did unexpected things to his face. Like making him look happy, as opposed to the usual dark anger that shadowed his face.

"Are you still dating him?" He asked after a moment. We were walking along the highway now, and he changed positions so that he was on the side of the cars.

My stomach did a flip. "Why do you care?"

He shrugged, which I noticed he did a lot. His arm brushed mine. "Josie seems smart. You should try and listen to her."

Oh, what, and you've known my sister for how long? A day? "Oh, believe me..." I opened my mouth, ready to blurt out something about her special little predicament concerning our dead mother, but thought better of it and answered his question. "Yeah. We broke up. Josie was happy." And according to her, so was my mother. I loved Josie so much that it hurt. I was also very afraid for her. "You turn," I said, looking up at him. "And make it quick."

He ran his hand through his hair, what I noticed as another one of his habits. I wanted to catch it before it came up, hold it in mine. Instead, I balled my hands into fists, wishing that I was still carrying my backpack so that I would have something to grab onto.

"Me and my mom-"

"My mom and I."

"Whatever. My mom and I had a sort of...falling out a couple years ago." He sighed again, this time leading the way into the path through the woods that lead to my house. It was markedly easier to bush-wack following him as opposed to leading him. He pushed a branch out of the way and, instead of letting it thwack me in the face seconds later, held it for me. How touching. "And so I moved out-"

"You moved out? Like, to a different house?"

"Yeah. You should see it. Better than any mansion."

"I'm sure. But how old are you?"

"Nineteen. Held back freshmen year."

"Oh, okay, that would explain..." Why you look twenty-five. "A lot. But what kind of falling out could be so bad that you would want to move out?"

"It was a bunch of stuff," he said, running his fingers through his hair again. "My dad... I don't know who my dad is." My eyebrows rose. "But my mom does-"

"Well, gee, I'd hope so." I realized seconds later how insensitive that sounded amidst his whole big revelation. "Sorry. Please continue."

He looked back at me, fighting a smile, before continuing. "Actually I'm not even sure that my mom is so sure of it anymore, because she's never told anybody."

"Wait-not even you?"

"Nope. Because of the whole tribal dynamic stuff. If I turned out to be a son of a leader or something, then... Well, that would cause complications. And she probably made a promise to him or something, and I don't even really care anymore. But back then I really did, and I was a total prick about it, but she still wouldn't tell me. So I was pissed at her for that, and then I started sneaking out at night and stuff."

"To do what?"

"Stuff." He offered a hand to help me traverse a log, which I pretended to ignore rather than take and have my heart start beating loud enough to scare away half the animals in the forest.

"Drugs?"

"No."

"Prostitution?"

"Calla. Please."

"You're not gonna tell me?"

He looked back, his eyes connecting with mine darker than usual. His face was shadowed. "Another time. Please," he said quietly, the bass of his voice emanating against the soft drips of water on leaves and bird call. I got a feeling that there was a lot more to this than I could ever guess.

I gulped. "So... you were angry with your mom..."

He turned to face forwards again. "Anyways. Yeah. And then a couple months later I tried to apologize but I suck at apologies, and she was like, 'I'm embarrassed to have Rick meet you," and I had no idea who the hell Rick was, and I found out that there was this guy that she had been dating and was planning on marrying that I hadn't even met."

"Wow. Is he a total douchebag or something?"

"No, no. Rick's not even that bad. I don't know why I freaked out so much. I accused her of being a hypocrite, calling me immature while she was the one going out at night and... Well, you know. We both blew up and I walked out that night and we didn't talk for the next seven months."

My mouth was open, taken completely aback by his story. I had always seen him as That Hot Douche. That Embry kid. That guy who is a senior and always looks angry. When I had seen him before... I never could have guessed. I never could have guessed what his story was. I couldn't believe he was telling me this after only having met me four days ago, if you include the party. All the same... though I felt sad for him, there was a feeling in my chest that squeezing, glowing, wondering how many other people he had told, and how the heck he trusted me enough for me to make it on that list.

Did he trust me?

I wanted him to, I realized.

I wanted to comfort him or something, but I didn't really know how. I supposed that his story wasn't particularly tragic, compared to others-compared to mine, I momentarily realized. But all the same, I ached for him.

One of the most horrible things is to lose a mother.

We emerged onto my street.

"So, yeah. But seven months later, I saw her at the grocery store or something and I was about to get my ass out of there, but then I realized that she was holding a little baby girl. And I thought, well, our relationship is fucked, but I'd be an idiot to let the same thing happen with me and the little girl."

"Your step-sister," I stated.

"Yeah. And brother, actually, she had twins-Ellie and Noah. I love them and she loves them, so even though we're still on rocky grounds, the twins have kind of smoothed things out between us. And the keys are to their house-Rick's house, which she moved into. I watch the twins every Monday and Friday, and it took me a while to get her to give me the keys, because she was afraid I was going to come in at night and steal them away or something. If I told her that I'd lost them, she'd probably blow up."

"Couldn't you just explain what happened?"

"Explain? You mean, tell her that it was midnight and I was wasted at some crack-pot party and some girl thought I was a rapist so she stole the keys in self-defense?"

I snort. "Oh. Okay. I see your point."

Moments later, we arrive at the Forks Coffee Shop.

Standing there in front of the glass, seeing Lori wave at me from inside... All of a sudden, I felt awkward. I didn't know what to do with my hands, and I took me three tries to try to do someting casual with them, which ended up being sticking them into the pockets of my shorts. I wanted to touch his arm, touch his cheek, thank him for telling me that. Tell him that I hoped it worked out between him and his mom, that I would really like to meet Ellie and Noah sometime.

But as he stood there in front of me, his own hands tucked into his pockets, his eyes met mine. And the oddest thing happened.

They say that eyes are the windows to the soul. I abruptly realized the truth of that as I stood there, and only afterwards was I able to put the raw feelings into clumsy words. I wasn't thinking about how popular he was or how he had never noticed me before that day, wasn't even thinking about what he looked like or how his gaze set my skin afire. I felt a connection with Embry, with the real, unadulterated Embry, the one that his eyes showed to me, gentle and sad. He missed his mother more than he would ever say. He loved his siblings more then he could ever say.

I wanted him to know that I understood. That I understood sadness. That I wanted to help him.

Instead of all of that eloquent stuff, like the utter idiot I am, I just kept quiet. Our eyes were still connected, and for the life of me, I was too scared to say anything. Scared that he wasn't feeling anything close to what I was feeling, that I was just some stupid little girl with a crush.

"So," he said after a moment, glancing up at the windows to my house. "I guess I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," I said quietly, regret already starting to form in a knot in my throat. He looked like he wanted to say something. He took his hands from his pockets, looked like he wanted to do something with those, too. Instead, he ran his hand through his hair, nodded once, and started to walk away.

"Wait, Embry..." I called, mashing my hands into tight fists. When he turned he looked ridiculously hopeful, face suddenly looking younger than it ever had.

Idiot, idiot, idiot...

"I-nevermind." I said, shoving the words out in a garbled heap. "Nevermind. I'll see you."

His face shadowed again, and he looked down at the ground. "Bye, Calla."

I watched him walk away until he was out of sight, knowing that I should tell him but also knowing that I wouldn't. Coward, I thought to myself.

It started to rain harder, and I decided it was high time I finally got into my house. I turned and entered the shop, the sour taste of everything I had not said still sitting in my mouth.

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