Here's what happened.
Tanya told me the story on the way back down to Washington—she called Rosalie and told her to come pick us up in her Porsche. I thought it was good payback for all the horrible things she'd done to us, having to sit there in the front seat and listen to us gush how much we loved each other for six hours. I could practically hear her grinding her teeth the whole way. But you know, I think even Rosalie was starting to get used to the idea of Tanya and me. It was just that Tanya looked so—happy. Tanya looked beautiful, she looked radiant, she looked luminous, she looked a whole thesaurus full of words that meant that she'd finally figured absolutely everything out.
She said that she'd gone after Edward. Of course she had, she'd been staring after him even when she was with me, of course she'd gone after him. But here was the thing: she'd chased after him, and caught him. He'd turned around and looked at her with tired ex-boyfriend eyes, wondering how else he could possibly say to her that it was not going to work out. And she'd grabbed his arm and looked into his eyes and called him Embry.
"You did what?" I sat up in the backseat, a grin breaking as I tried to imagine Edward's face.
"I called him Embry," she laughed. "I looked straight at him and I said your name. Your name came straight out of my mouth."
"And that's when you knew," I finished her story.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I always knew. Even when I told you I didn't love you, that was a lie. I was lying my head off. I always loved you, Embry, I had to—I guess I just had to wait till I wanted to love you, too."
That made sense. I'd had similar feelings, just less drastic. Anyway, I didn't care, I really didn't, because as long as it worked out in the end it really didn't matter what went on in the middle at all. It had mattered at the time, it had mattered while it was happening, but an ending like this whited everything out like a spotlight, blew everything out of perspective altogether.
"So what did he say?" I asked. I still liked that mental image, Tanya standing across from Edward and realizing suddenly that he was not the one that she wanted. Not anymore.
"He told me to get the hell back to you," Tanya smiled, running one hand casually through the top of my hair. "And it's a good thing he did. You sure have a talent for getting yourself into trouble, dear."
"Yes, I'm very proud," I told her. "And I'm wondering why you look so gorgeous, considering all that's happened in the last twenty-four hours. What's your secret, Tanya?" And suddenly I had an invisible microphone in my hand—why not, she was prettier than any red-carpet celebrity I'd ever seen.
"Well, I recommend cursed immortality for the skin," she said, taking my invisible microphone in stride. Just one of the reasons why I loved her. "It really works wonders for spots and wrinkles, you'll never have a gray hair in your life! It's really something. Also I'd recommend true love, it's changed my life forever. I'd like to give a shoutout to Embry Call, the most wonderful werewolf boyfriend any girl could ask for."
In the front seat, Rosalie made gagging noises.
---
Tanya was wearing a full-length, strapless empire-waisted black dress with jet beading on the skirt and bodice. At least that was what she told me, and I'm repeating it because I know that kind of thing is important to girls. Pretty much I just thought it was a black dress—but she did look beautiful in it. Good thing we lived in a small town, or people would be trying to snatch her away for a modeling career. Yeah, seriously. She looked that beautiful.
I supposed I was lucky that she'd been changed at the age she had—even if she was, technically, almost a hundred years older than me, she looked like she was nineteen. Which meant it looked totally not illegal for me to be taking her to the Prom.
I actually had no idea where she'd gotten the dress. I mean, I know where she'd gotten it, she'd had Rosalie bring it down along with her toothbrush and a change of clothes and a few of my dad's old things. I just didn't know where she'd gotten this dress, it was the kind of thing you wore to the Oscars, not our Under the Sea construction-paper-and-crepe extravaganza. But whatever. Even if she wore torn jeans and flannel, she was still going to make everyone else look stupid tonight.
I was getting ready at my house, trying not to look too stupid myself, while Jacob and Quil argued about the correct way to tie a bowtie. Jacob had made it back in time for Prom, and I had oh-so-sneakily suggested that perhaps Seth should be sent to Alaska as his replacement. He hadn't made it up there yet, but I was waiting to hear back from his first meeting with Kira. I wanted to hear what happened the first time that he looked her in the eyes.
"Come here," I said to Quil, after watching him murder that bowtie for the tenth time. "You fold it across, then over. It's not like it's rocket science, man."
"Shut up," Jacob heckled. "Just because some of us don't have a girlfriend to explain these things…"
"Don't have a girlfriend is right," I shot back. "When are you going to imprint, anyway, Jake?"
"When I'm good and ready," Jacob said serenely. "Couldn't possibly do worse than the two of you, could I?"
Quil was taking Rebecca Newsome. He was doing it under extreme peer pressure, as we all knew he would rather be watching "Little Mermaid" with Claire, but we'd insisted that he have "the experience". Which meant, of course, that if we had to do it then he had to do it. What else were friends for?
I was wearing my dad's suit. I don't know why. It wasn't like I didn't have suits of my own, but honestly they probably wouldn't even fit me anymore. And I was kind of attached to this suit. Even if I grew out of it, I was keeping it. It was going to be hanging in the closet.
As I pulled the jacket on, I felt something crunch in the pocket—I put my hand in and I pulled out the calendar page. March 15 with my birthday written on it. I looked at it for a few moments—I had actually forgotten about it, and seeing it again was…hmm. It was hard. I walked across the room and pushpinned it to my bulletin board.
"Hey, what's that?" Jacob asked me. Jacob was an observant guy.
"Oh," I said. "Um. Nothing." I would tell them the whole story later—there wasn't a lot that I didn't eventually tell Quil and Jacob—but this didn't seem like the time. No need to be the buzzkill, we were supposed to be having fun tonight.
They caught my look instantly, and they were good at interpreting my looks. "Okay," Jacob said briskly. "The limo's going to be here in fifteen minutes. You want to do my bowtie too, Embry?"
I grinned at him, half thank you and half God-I-missed-you-guys. "Sure."
Tanya was making the situation even more ridiculousness by sitting at my kitchen table in her Oscars dress, chatting with my mom about cuticles and corn muffin recipes. Of course they got along. Of course they did.
"Embry," my mom said as she spotted me walking down the stairs. "You look nice, honey! Did you know that Tanya was born in Russia? She was just telling me about it."
"Yeah, I did know that," I said, shooting Tanya a grin. I wasn't sure how much Tanya had told my mother about—what, exactly, she was, but whatever she'd told her my mom had liked. We were just going to have to play it by ear—make sure she absolutely adored Tanya first, because I don't think any mother was going to be crazy about her son dating a vampire.
I'd spent enough time with my mom since I got home that she wasn't jealous of Tanya anymore—so when Tanya stood up and my eyes went straight to her, she understood. I'd seen the dress—I just hadn't seen her in the dress, with makeup and hair done and four-inch heels. It was—stunning.
I could see my mom hiding a smile behind her hand. She definitely wasn't going to object to us, she was happy for me. I know she'd been worried about me not dating, being so weirdly paranoid about dating—well, she didn't have to worry anymore.
Tanya saw my look and smiled as well, doing a little spin for me as she headed my way. "What do you think?" she said.
"Isn't it obvious?" Jacob said as he followed me into the kitchen. Stepping in for me, there, because I was pretty sure my voice wasn't going to recover from her gorgeousness for—quite some time. It was possible I'd just gone permanently mute. "Close your mouth, Embry, you look stupid. The limo's here."
"Um, Embry?" Quil yelled from the front entryway. "The limo's not the only thing that's here."
The doorbell rang.
"Well?" I asked as I heard him open the door. "Who is it?"
"Hi Embry," I heard a familiar voice say, and Jill Keyes poked her head and shoulders in the door. "I—heard you were back. It's Jill."
I have to say, this was the first time I'd ever been glad to see her. Was it creepy that she'd showed up on my doorstep? Yes. Had it been creepy when she'd stalked me at the coffeeshop all year? Yes. But for the first time, it really wasn't something I had to worry about.
"Hey Tanya," I called back to the kitchen. "Can you come out here? There's someone that I want you to meet."