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Chapter 55

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The first thing I noticed as I pulled into the Clearwater's driveway was the truck overflowing with an assortment of everyday household items parked out on the road. The second was that I was going to hit Seth with a Ferrari if I didn't step on the breaks soon.

I stepped on the breaks.

"Twice in one weekend my life has flashed before my eyes," he sighed as I got out of the car. "If there was ever a sign that I should leave town..."

"Sorry. It looks like you're almost done packing up your stuff. I'm impressed you got it all in there."

That he had succeeded in securing all of his belongings was a generous observation. The truck looked like it was about to explode—the couch on the back didn't seem to like company. How he had managed to wrangle that from his sister and Jacob, I didn't know. I suppose they both still must have felt bad about yesterday's visit to the hospital.

Seth rolled his eyes. "I've been at it all morning. I swear, there ought to be a law that you have to give someone twenty-four hours before you evict them from their own house."

"There is. Though I point out you haven't technically lived here in almost a year. And you probably had more of your stuff at Charlie's house, anyway."

"Actually, I found most of my junk at Quil's." When my eyebrow went up, he shrugged. "I don't know either. At least I'm almost done."

"Why isn't Leah helping you?"

"She offered but....well, she brought me breakfast in bed this morning. It kind of freaked me out. So I said we were even and she said I could load up all my crap myself. I've just got the suitcase and then I'm done." He glanced up at the lone container left in the garage, then back at me. "I was actually going to head up to your house after, say goodbye to everyone."

I wandered up the driveway, suddenly not liking just how open the whole neighbourhood was. He followed, possibly to grab the suitcase, as I explained: "You're too late. No one's there. They cleaned up before I even woke up this morning. I just got back from driving them to the airport."

There would be no more Cullens in Forks, even if my family wasn't planning on selling the house. Someone would stop buy every decade or so and make sure it didn't fall into disrepair. Maybe in another century or so they could come back. Or not. They would see what happened; my family hadn't been too upset at going off to more interesting, if sunnier, places.

And myself? I was still trying to figure out how I felt about leaving the only home I had ever known. Being in Dartmouth the past week, I simply felt like I was on vacation. Now...now it would be home. After I finished talking to Seth and Leah, I was going to find a tub of ice cream, some country music, and cry for a good long while.

Then in six hours Jacob would drive me to the airport and I wouldn't see Forks or La Push for a long, long time.

"They're gone?" He gave a rather sad smile, one that just reinforced his resemblance to a puppy. "After all those fights, it's kind of anticlimactic having them just sneak out like that. Sam might even shed a tear."

"Edward wanted to beat you to Seattle. He misses you—he's going to buy you some electronic thing, make it up to you." I stopped examining Jacob's tools along the wall long enough to look up at Seth, who was now positively beaming. "Please act surprised?"

"Seriously? That's awesome. Won't your Mom mind?"

"He has eternity to make it up to her." The mostly empty garage felt like a tomb. I sighed: "I can't believe you all won't be here."

"I can't believe they decided we were moving in twenty minutes."

It wasn't like they had much of a choice. Last night had been chaotic at best. When the three of us had gotten back from the beach, we had arrived to find Sakhet and Embry fighting on the front lawn. The eldest half-vampire had not approved of her sister's care—Embry did not care for the thought of Shelia's departure. That Jacob and Leah had come up with a solution so quickly had been nothing short of miraculous.

Shelia was going to stay in La Push, with Embry—and Jacob. And Elmira. This way she could get the care she needed, and someone would always be able to physically restrain her, if necessary. As part of the deal, Elmira had agreed to live under virtual house arrest, so the werewolves could guarantee she wouldn't hurt anyone. Jacob would also be able to stop his friend from killing the sister-in-law from hell.

And Jacob wouldn't be living with Leah anymore.

I guess they finally realized being attached at the hip all the time was not good for the psyche. Since Leah didn't need the house all to herself, she was going to get a small place of her own. And they were all going to move out of the house. Today. I never understood the werewolves.

"Sakhet didn't think Embry was strong enough," was all I said. "If Jacob hadn't offered to help out, she might not have left without Shelia."

"It was nice of the other one to stay behind. Must be a bit of a romantic."

It was the kindest interpretation of events I had heard yet, but though his voice was teasing, his words stung. There was another reason Leah had insisted Elmira couldn't wander though La Push unless accompanied by an Alpha or Beta wolf.

"You should meet her. She might not be so bad since you are not the one responsible for killing her father."

His footsteps echoed on the concrete floor, the light steps somehow deafening in the confined space. All the tools hanging on the wall were making me crazy, the shiny metal reflecting too many half-glimpsed images at me. That was the reason my nerves were on edge. Behind me, Seth came to a stop, his voice soft.

"I'd rather not."

"I came over to talk to Leah," I told the wall. Was I really seven years old? I forced myself to turn around, even though Seth was just as close as I had anticipated. Leaning back against the garage wall gave me more space, stopping the heat of him from frying my brain anymore than it already had. "But I kind of wanted to talk to you, too."

"Yeah, I did too. Talk to you, not me. I can talk to me anytime. I wanted to talk to you." He winced. "Blame it on the drugs. Thank your grandfather for those, by the way."

Now that he had reminded me, my panic from last night came back full force. "How are you doing? Were there any complications? Is the wound clean? Did it scar? Are—?

"You want to see it, don't you?"

My expectant look was answer enough. Without protest, he tried pulling down the collar of his shirt and when that didn't work, just pulled the top off. Keeping my eyes firmly on his most recent war wound, I took in the damage. It was worse than I thought. The knife must have embedded itself right between the deltoid and the pectoralis major. Leah had luckily missed the nearby arteries, but it was clear that Carlisle's job still hadn't been easy. The scar tissue attested to that. The thick, indented mark was unlike anything I had ever seen on the werewolves.

"How long was the knife?" I asked, as I pushed at his shoulder, lifting his arm, forcing it to move in circles trying to make sure his mobility hadn't been affected. My hands travelled over the soft bronze skin, prodding, massaging, relieved and something else that the hard muscle moved fluidly underneath my touch. Part of me realized he wouldn't have been able to load up the car if it was still damaged, but I ignored the thought, eager to see for myself.

"Only about two or three inches went in. Leah stopped pretty quick."

That didn't prevent me from moving around, checking to make sure there was no exit wound. There was nothing on his back but smooth skin, but it made me feel better. Or maybe it was being so close.

"I'm glad you're all right."

"Me too." He glanced down, but didn't say anything about the way I was obsessively checking the scar on his chest. I wasn't fooling anyone. It would have been impossible for him to miss how my breasts were lightly pressed against him.

"I wanted to talk to you." Why was I whispering? It served its purpose; Seth had to lean forward to hear me. "But there's something I have to do first..."

I went up on my toes, bringing our faces far too close together, though there was that last bit of distance because I still wasn't quite sure if this was acceptable or not. Not to anyone else, but to Seth, who had so much more to lose. My heart was beating wildly, more with anticipation then fear—he hesitated for only a second. He lowered his head. My lips found his.

It was a simple and sweet kiss, a whisper of a promise of something wonderful. It was the two of us, alone and free from the obligations we put on ourselves. It was a heady feeling. A large hand came to rest on my waist and I wrapped my arms around his neck. My fingers brushed the hair on the back of his head, softer than feathers...

Simplicity was overrated.

The brief taste I had gotten wasn't enough, so I deepened the kiss, searching for something I was still afraid to put a name to. His hands on my body, somehow nowhere near where I needed them to be, pulled me closer, while he stepped forward, almost as if we were supposed to be able to defy physics and share the same physical space. Maybe we could. Maybe that's how I could feel him pressed against me and yet somewhere inside me as well.

The cold of the garage wall against my back was in stark contrast to the heat coming off Seth. I had an easier time believing he was kissing my neck than the soft breathy moans were coming from me. But it was the only way I seemed able breath when his hand seemed to be burning through the material on the back of my jeans.

"Seth..."

I was acting shamelessly, but I didn't care, just glad when his mouth was back on mine. I was getting a little dizzy (lack of oxygen? Oxygen was also overrated) but it didn't really matter so long as he kept kissing me like this, echoing a primordial ritual even I instinctively understood. His lips were supposed to be demanding against mine, mirroring the way mine were assaulting his. My body was supposed to feel like defying physics was not only possibly but mandatory for survival. And as I drowned while standing on dry land, his hand was threading through my hair, tugging my head back not-quite gently to give him better access while one of my hands curled into belt loops of his jeans.

He said my name, but it came out as more of a groan. "Leah's still home," he whispered against my ear.

"So?"

I wouldn't mind if he continued as if Leah (and the rest of the world) was far, far away from us.

The pressure against me receded a little; the kisses became gentle. There was a whole wide world out there and the garage door was open. Though I was a little disappointed (why? I didn't want to think about why) I still enjoyed the quiet game we were playing now. Butterfly kisses, I thought to myself. I was having the strangest visions of butterflies and ponies and rainbows.

Because there were—as impossible and irrational and as utterly absurd as it sounded—butterflies in my stomach.

"Um..." I giggled quietly, breathlessly. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah..." He frowned, though one hand didn't move from my rear and the other kept playing with my hair. "Uh...why don't...you can go first. I don't really remember what I had planned to say."

I reluctantly removed my arms from around his neck, and he unfortunately took that as a sign to step back. He even took a moment to pick his shirt off the floor. While I waited for him to shrug it on, I took the opportunity to settle myself on the workbench nearby. Seating seemed to convey the casual attitude that I needed to project at a moment like this.

"I gave a speech at my birthday, thanking everybody. I came here to extend the sentiment to you. For being my friend all this time." Fighting the blush on my cheek, I made myself add, "And to see what it was like. To kiss you. I've kind of wanted to do that since I was five."

Leaning beside me, his hand casually playing with the hole in my jeans, Seth did what few people did when I spoke—he laughed, his whole body shaking against mine until I was laughing too. Not because it was particularly funny, but because it seemed like the best way to say goodbye.

Finally, he said: "It's the greatest thing how all this is normal with you. That's basically what I wanted to tell you. I'm going to miss you. Call me sometimes. Most people I want to keep in touch with read my mind, so I might not be very good at regular keeping in touch, but I figure you would be."

"I've never had to before, but I think you're right. I'll be good at it."

"Of course." It was time for him to go. He was standing up, hands on my hips to help me down. "This could be fun. The long distance bills won't be, but talking to you without fearing for my life will be great."

"I'm curious," I asked, putting my arms around his neck again. He wasn't stopping me and I liked doing it too much to make myself stop. "What exactly haven't you told me because you were afraid for your life?"

"There's plenty I haven't told you." There was a hint of a smirk on his face, so I had to tease him back.

"Please. I know everything."

"What's my favourite colour?"

"Seth!"

The two of us ended up on opposite sides of the garage. I had to shove my hands in my mouth to stop from laughing, as Seth shot me a warning look that was ruined by his own aborted laughter. Then he went to greet his sister, whose presence saved me from being unable to answer his question.

"Some other utensil you wanna stab me with?"

"Not funny. Were—?" She pulled up. "Hey, Nessie. I didn't hear you pull up. Apparently, cleaning destroys your eardrums."

"I told you to ask Jake to help you."

"If the Council weren't bitches, he would be here, and yes, he would be cleaning. But they are, so he is gone, so I am stuck trying to make it look like less of a pigsty in there. Do you have any idea how much we shed?"

"I try not to think about it." He glanced over at me, standing by his lone suitcase. "I was actually just about to head off..."

"I came over to see you," I told her, and she nodded absently.

All she said: "I can walk you to the car."

As sister and brother said goodbye, I tried every way I could not to listen in. Vampire hearing couldn't be helped, but humming under my breath worked a little bit, and anyway I managed to distract myself until Leah called me over to say goodbye.

"Knuckles?" I offered, not exactly inclined to hug Seth in front of his sister. Not that it stopped him. He completed the old ritual, but this time he finished by wrapping his arms around me. How long was appropriate? Not the length he stayed. It was far too soon when he was pulling away from me, leaving me shivering at how cool it had suddenly gotten.

"Have fun at school. It'll go by before you know it, so enjoy it while you can."

"I'll keep that in mind." He was leaving, but I halted his departure, curiosity preventing me from letting go. "Seth," I called, "What's your favourite colour?"

He stopped right by the car door and the smile he gave me seemed to travel right to my very core, causing something to combust in my belly, fire spreading upwards, coating my face in a bright red blush as his eyes bore into mine. His shoulder went up, an easy, carefree gesture, and as he shrugged he told me, "Red."

"Love the skin you're in," Leah sighed from behind me as I used my hair to shield my face. Seth nodded, but his dark eyes were still on me—then he got in the car and was gone.

The smile on my face was ridiculous. I was going to pull one of my facial muscles.

"What?" I asked. Having Leah stare at me like that, confused, surprised and disbelieving, blinking like she must have the first time she had seen a werewolf, managed to calm the hammering in my chest.

"Were you...?" She bit her lip, almost embarrassed to be asking. "Were you flirting with my brother?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Leah," I said, turning around to walk up the porch steps. My eyes may have lingered on the road, but for symbolic reasons. "Now come on, I don't have much time. I still have to pack."

She hesitated, but after shaking her head (and Seth would thankfully live to see another day), she followed me into the house.

"Just where do you think you're going?" she called.

It was a small house. When I got to my destination, she would be able to find me. Or she could just follow me up the stairs, and stand, arms crossed over her chest, in the doorway, as I flopped rather ungracefully on her bed.

"I need a favour," I stated, as I stretched out my back. Her bed was rather uncomfortable, but my back needed it. Last night hadn't been the most restful sleep of my life—it had taken me until early this morning to come up with what could very well turn out to be a useless solution. Hopefully not, but it could be.

"And I need a million bucks," Leah said as she went back to packing up her clothes.

"Wasn't that what you received for the car?"

"That was for the town." She rolled her eyes, but finally said, "What do you want?"

"I think you were wrong," I began. "I know it sounds medieval and demeaning and possibly even un-American, but I also think it's wishful thinking to believe otherwise. Jacob...Jacob belongs to me. He is mine. I would prefer if you had been correct, if he was his own, but I don't think you were."

"I might have agreed to anger management courses, kid, but I am still not afraid of shoving my hair brush up your—"

"Could you let me finish before you threaten me with bodily harm?" I interrupted. "Please? This is merely an observation, however unpleasant you may find it. It's not something I want, or approve of, or enjoy...but I'm fairly certain it is a fact. And I believe you would be to if you weren't so instinctively repulsed by it."

Leah threw the brush at me, but without any real force. Hadn't that always been the problem? Jacob was fine with me having outside interests, and incapable of having any of his own.

"Agreeing you're right about this better not be the favour."

"It's not." Closing my eyes, I said, "If he's mine...I don't want him anymore. Fate better have a return policy, because I'm giving him back. As wonderful as having the perfect future husband was, I...I don't want him. So, that's that."

Hear that Fate? Hear that Destiny? Listen up Providence and Fortune and Bella and Karma and whatever else could possibly be responsible: Renesmee Carlisle Cullen, the half-vampire with the pretentious name, does not want Jacob Black, leader of the Quileute werewolves. Ever. For anything. So you might as well let him go. Release him from his bonds. Let the ties be severed. Anything, so he could finally be free.

Forcing myself to sit up, I continued: "Which means I need you to make sure he doesn't try and contact me. Recruit Embry and Quil and whomever else you need, only make sure he stays far away from me. Hopefully, the fact this is what I want will help him. And maybe one day I won't be the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up in the morning. And maybe, one day..."

Maybe one day he would look at me and see a girl and not the center of the universe.

"You serious?" Leah asked, dropping down to sit on the bed beside me. "It just might kill him."

"That which does not kill us makes us stronger. Whatever problems I have with Nietzsche's philosophy, I think he was right about that. Like I think I'm right about this. It won't kill him, so maybe it'll force him to forget. He can't care for me above all else if I won't let him."

"I...I never thought of that."

"When Jacob was explaining imprinting to my mother, he said the girls had a choice. Even though he would be everything, my 'perfect match' who I wouldn't want to resist, he still said I could. He was young then, and in love with her and desperate to defend his friend, but...don't you think he was right? Can't I make us forget each other, if I want?"

For a long while it was quiet, Leah frowning, brain whirling, trying to remember conversations she hadn't stolen from Jacob like I had. Did the werewolves dwell on imprinting or phasing or even the shedding that happened to them? It was part of the stories, so why should they bother? But I was not part of their stories. I couldn't say them, and I wasn't even inclined to learn, mostly because I was sick and tired of being drafted into them.

"Maybe," she sighed at last. "I don't know. We always just assumed...how can you not want your soul mate?"

"So far my world has been confined to Forks. Why would I want to reduce it further, to only a single person?"

Leah rolled her eyes. "It was a rhetorical question. I don't need a clichéd answer."

"Oh, shut up." I tried throwing the pillow at her, but she easily blocked it. She looked so beautiful, leaning over me like this. "Leah? I know this is a little delayed, not to mention a violation of our deal, but...why did you hate me? Back when I was little?"

The high-pitched laughter she emitted was not a pleasant sound, nor was the way her eyes squinted close as her whole body shook. "Are you seriously still on about that? Come on, Nessie. That was like a billion years ago."

"And you didn't like me," I insisted. "I just want to know why. Closure, you know. Before I leave."

This time she hit me with the pillow. I suppose I should be glad she didn't try and smoother me with it.

"I don't know," she snapped. "Maybe it was your crazy insistence that I was out to get you. Or your entitled attitude. Or you inability to figure out basic human nature. Or your lack of normal human feeling—"

"Harsh," I muttered.

"Or maybe...maybe I was a little jealous."

Wisely, I said nothing. She continued:

"It just gets...so tedious sometimes. Every morning is the same old thing, and no matter how hard I try nothing changes. And everyone around here is the same way." She lost me there. "When I was about ten I used to cry, wishing I had hair like yours. But it never worked out. So maybe years later, when you came around all Curly Sue and unawares, it drove me a little crazy."

"You didn't like me for my hair?"

Her face was perfectly serious. "Above all. There were some other things too, but that was definitely the big one. And...maybe I was a little bit upset that no matter how many hours I spent entertaining you, no matter how many stupid places Jake made me go to, I was just the temp. One you wouldn't even remember, except to be annoyed by. You have no idea how much that pissed me off."

The very first time I had angered Jacob, he had forbidden me to talk about it, but now, years later, I knew he had just been trying to protect her from my extraordinary childish lack of tact. Now I could speak and not hurt her.

"I always thought," I offered her quietly, "You would have made an excellent mother."

"Yeah, well..." Even Leah Clearwater was unable to summon her powers of sarcasm at all times. "You...you. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Emotional abuse is such a great maternal quality."

She also had a great recovery time, but I digress.

"You're a little full of yourself today, aren't you? You're not abusive, you just... have a bit of an edge."

That got her laughing. "Sure, fine. Not that you would know anything about that—I'm never going to understand how you came out so normal when there were so many of us trying to fuck you up in new and exciting ways. You're one of those people who would have turned out the same no matter. Like..." Surprised, but certain of her conclusion, she said, "Like Charlie."

"I happen to believe my role models were doing their best, not trying to ruin me."

"You keep believing that." But she was too busy frowning. "Crap. I'm going to have stop calling Bella the worst mother on the planet. She was smart enough to realize there was no point in trying with you. You would have been okay, no matter what."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "As if you were ever objective when it came to my mother."

"I'm a werewolf; she's a vampire. It's a mortal enemies thing."

I rolled my eyes and engaged in some wishful thinking. "Maybe in a hundred years you'll let it go. I'm glad you didn't hang on to your grudge at me that long."

"Only because my 'grudge' at you was mostly in your head."

"You don't hate me now, do you?"

"I will if you don't shut up."

"Okay," I agreed. "There's just one last thing."

"I'm getting really tired of all these favours."

"It's not a favour. It's a friendly suggestion. I just wanted to say that if, sometime in the future, Jacob finally moves on from me that it might be in your best interest to not punch him in the face at the first sign that he's into you. I'm just saying."

The colour of Leah's face was rather impressive.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"It was just a friendly suggestion."

"I cannot believe you! Seriously? Let it go. It is not going to happen. Move on with life. Or get a life. Whatever will make you just shut up already."

"Just because you don't want to admit..."

It was a small gamble, because she might have just strangled me, but I was hoping that moving out of her house, saying goodbye to her brother and saying goodbye to me all on the same day would have mellowed Leah out a bit. I was right. Though she looked a tiny bit furious, I was still able to breathe.

"So, let me get this straight. You want me to be the girl who, after being forced to essentially give in to his every whim, and follow his every stupid order, and save him from his own crazy ideas, and trail after him like a lost puppy sometimes, to have waited forever for him to get over his ex, namely you, for seven freaking years?"

"Sort of. I just want you to be the girl who's happy."

"I..." She sighed. "I can't kill you for that."

"Good."

She hugged me then, stronger than her brother had, crushing me to her. "My turn to give friendly suggestions. Sometimes, out there, you might get treated like a freak. It's going to happen, no matter how hard you try to blend in. You shouldn't try. You can't succeed in being ordinary—you shouldn't want to. So when they treat you like something someone pulled out of the bottom of a closed off well, tell them to go fuck themselves. Because you are too damn special to listen to that crap.

"Second, guys are assholes. Even the ones who aren't, are. It's a fact. Occasionally, if you're lucky, you will find one who is less of an asshole. Defend him with your life, because chances are, you will not find another one. And if you find one who is a complete and utter asshole, remember that you're stronger than he is—and maybe the next girl won't be. So if they ask for it...don't hold back. Give it to them. Make them bleed.

"And always remember to be good."

"No eating other people. No words over two syllables." I fought back the tears. "I remember, Leah."

"I suppose the occasional trisyllable word couldn't hurt."

"Thank you."

This time, I hugged her, with all the vampire strength I had. It was funny how after all the words that I had exchanged that morning, the things I would remember most about the day I said goodbye at the Clearwater house were a hug and a kiss.

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TBC...