chapter twelve

I cupped my cheek and rested my elbow on the kitchen counter, staring at my father while he pretended not to notice me. He was humming, loudly and off-key, while his fried eggs popped in the frying pan. I could be patient, though, and I tapped the counter to the beat of his favorite Dead Kennedy's song. I loved my father in different ways than I loved my mother, because he was simple. He was easy to talk to, and didn't care about much at all. My mother and I could be biting chunks out of each other, and my father's solution would be to wait it out, to let us tire each other out. He let me get away with a lot.

He danced a little to his own humming, while he turned and slid his egg onto a plate full of toast. In this moment, he glanced up at me with a bemused smirk. "Oh, Remy, didn't see you there," he said in a light little tone, "what could you possibly want on the Monday morning after you stopped being grounded?" I extended my arm out in front of him, with my palm wide open, and gave him my biggest and purest smile. "Eh, not so fast," he chirped, "you have to apologize to your mother first."

"What? That's not the deal," I shot back, straightening my posture. "You said I would get my car back Monday morning. It's Monday morning, so now I get my car back," I argued, face feeling hot.

But my dad just shook his head. "Well, Remy, now I'm saying that I'll let you keep using my car to drive to school and work if you apologize to your mother first. You said some really nasty things to her, and you're not gonna get to drive around until you own up to it."

My arms were shaking. "I didn't say anything that wasn't true."

And my dad gave me this look, this stupid look with big, disappointed eyes and down-turned features and I wondered what my mother said to him to make him start actually acting like a father. "Remy, your mom's been going through a rough time lately, and you're not giving her enough credit. She's trying her best, and the constant push-back from you isn't helping. You said what you said to hurt her, and that's why you need to apologize."

I scoffed. "What so, mom can barge into my room banging pots and pans and make wild accusations about me and I'm just supposed to roll over and let her do and say whatever she wants? I didn't even do anything wrong."

He sighed, and rested on the counter to match his eye level to mine. "Honestly, Remy, at this point I don't even care if you're telling the truth or not. I care about the way you reacted. The rage you have," he shook his head, "I let it go unchecked with Briah, but I'm not gonna let it go unchecked with you. So until you apologize to your mother, you're not grounded, but you don't have a car."

And I felt it tight in my muscles, that unchecked rage, and it was screaming to get out. For me to punch a wall, scream at my dad, or throw something until it broke. I stared up at my father with shaking fists. "Why don't you ever defend me against her? Why do I have to apologize to her, but she can scream at me until her voice is raw and that's totally fine? Like, I'm your kid, you're supposed to defend me."

My dad gave me a sad look. "I'll talk to your mom. Okay? Just apologize, please, so we can keep being a family."

"I already told Quil he didn't have to give me a ride today," I protested, throat feeling tight. But there was a loud honk from outside and I was forced to recognize defeat. My dad gave me a sad smile, and dove into his eggs.

The first thing I did when I jumped into the passenger seat of Quil's truck was turn the volume on the radio all the way up, so loud that it made my ears pound. He gave me a look, eyes drawn together and nose scrunched, still parked in my driveway, and went to turn the volume down again. But my hand was quicker than his and I covered the volume control and looked out the window. There was a stillness for a moment while my eyes focused on the clumps of dirt before the truck started moving again. I didn't look at Quil the whole ride there.

There was this tenseness in my joints and my jaw and my muscles and I felt like if I moved I would rip the handle off of the door. I was wishing that if my dad needed to think one of his kids committed suicide to start acting like a dad then he shouldn't have had kids in the first place. I was thinking about how he went seventeen years without ever caring about the words that came out of my mouth and how it was so fucking stupid that he was gonna start pretending to love his wife after keeping me up late nights with his incessant screaming about how much he couldn't stand her.

The parking lot was crowded by the time we pulled in, and I leaned forward in my seat, eyes straining to look for Quil's normal parking spot. "He's not here," Quil said in a gentle tone, "Embry's running late today. Won't be in for another hour."

"Good," I said in a gruff voice, unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the door before Quil even fully stopped his truck, slamming the door behind me. I was gonna get a fucking earful for that.

Bobby Evans was the only person I could even imagine being around, because the combination of her constantly running mouth and general lack of interest in anything I had to say made her the perfect companion. And she was sitting there, perfect and pampered with her hair curled and framing her face, lips shiny and lashes thick. But then I imagined the morning Bobby had. There was no way she got so perfect looking while screaming at her father and I bet her mom made her a stack of pancakes before refilling her bank account and then the idea of interacting with Bobby seemed far worse.

I sat down next to her wordlessly, and she dove into it before I got reel in my thoughts. "Hey," she said to get the greetings out of the way, "so my parents are going out of town next weekend again, so I was thinking of having a couple people over. Nothing like last time, though, totally chill, and people could sleep in my basement. There's this girl Jessica from Forks who just got dumped for like, the fifth time by some Wonderbread looking guy, and I think she may be a little interested. I want you to meet her, cause like, I need your approval."

"Uh-huh," I mumbled, arms crossed and not looking her way.

"Do you wanna come over tonight? I need some help with my history paper on Greece, and I'll help you figure out polynomials in exchange."

"Sure."

"Good. Maybe by then you'll be in a better mood. You're boring when you're grumpy," Bobby said in a clipped tone.

I raised my eyebrow at her. "Sorry my basic humans functions are an inconvenience for you. I'll try to be less of a person next time."

But Bobby just rolled her eyes. "God, you're so fucking cheesy. Go write some poetry and talk to me when you're not oozing middle school angst, alright?"

Despite myself, I chuckled, and let the grin linger on my face. I was starting to like her.

Everyone was getting too fucking chummy with me.

My lunch period used to be an exclusive time of self-pitying and researching dead-end theories, and I liked it that way. It was a full half hour of isolation and mindless white noise, something that was getting really hard to find. And even though everything I did during my lunch period essentially amounted up to nothing, it was the most valuable nothing I could be doing. I was sitting there, flipping through a book on paganism, trying to find something about possession (but it was just pages on pages about different kinds of herbs) really enjoying the lack of company. Because even though it was hours later and the original anger was faded, I was still thinking about what my dad said about Bear. It made my skin crawl.

It was Quil who plopped down next to me first, and I minded his presence the least. He was chewing on something loudly and had a large tray of food in front of him. "How ya feelin' champ?" he asked me while he swallowed.

"Fine," I replied, not looking up from my book.

Quil was content to eat in silence, and if it weren't for the loud and wet chewing noises, I almost wouldn't have minded. But it was only a few more moments of uncomfortable silence before Embry Call took the other seat next to me.

Embry Call was a liar and a bastard, and he thought I was stupid enough to not recognize my own goddamn sentence. And even though he looked me in the eye and lied, I still had this weird inclination to trust he was doing it for a good reason, and even if he was a bastard, he was a bastard that promised to help me find my brother. He may have lied about the reason, but he believed me when I told him about Bear, when I had a feeling no one else would. Plus, I wasn't exactly surprised at the realization it was him who was writing notes in my journal. Who else would tell me to stay inside at night other than the kid who cleaned out my puke bucket when it got full in the middle of the night? I was so mixed on him it made me dizzy. He sat down next to me with a big stupid smile, and said, "Hey, Remy."

I nodded in response, not wanting to encourage any further discussion. But like always, he ignored my not-so-subtle little hints. "Do you ever eat?" he asked, gesturing towards my lunch of an untouched apple.

Wordlessly, I put my book down and picked up my apple. I looked Embry in the eyes when I bit into it, and while the large chunk was still in my mouth, I said, "Yes."

The silence that followed only lasted about three seconds before Seth Clearwater, with his young face and high-pitched voice, sat down next to Quil. "I'm so screwed," he complained loudly, "I forgot about my world history paper that was due today and now I'm totally gonna fail. I don't know anything about Rome! Who knows anything about Rome?" Seth momentarily stopped his ranting when he looked over at me and grinned, all worry suddenly disappearing from his face. "Hi!" he chirped, "I'm Seth Clearwater!"

"Okay," I replied, uninterested, and his face fell.

"Remy," Quil snapped, "don't be mean to Seth, he's like a baby," he said, reaching over and pinching Seth's cheek. Seth swatted his hand away with a laugh, and I had a hard time thinking that Seth, who was at least a foot taller than me, could be perceived as a baby, even if his face was that young.

"If I'm not mean to him he might keep talking to me," I said, mostly to myself, but I knew they would all hear it.

There was another brief moment of silence before Embry said, "Remy's really good at history. I was in her class freshmen year and she got the best grades out of everyone. She could probably help you with your essay."

Seth perked up. "Really? You'd do that?"

I looked up at Seth for a moment. "No," I said simply, irritation growing.

Quil turned to look at me. "Remy, has anyone ever told you that you have an extraordinary way with people?"

And in the time I rolled my eyes, Jacob Black took a seat next to Embry and complained louder than Seth did. "I'm so fucking sick of Bella calling me. Like, she literally won't stop calling me and I don't know why! It's not like I'm the one who left her. She made her choice, and she should have to live with it."

I felt like I wasn't the only one at the table who wasn't interested in hearing this, because there was a general slacking of posture and a change in atmosphere with his words. "We get it, dude," Embry said, not looking over his friend.

Jacob stared at me, looking straight into my eyes. "Remy, you're a girl. Can I get your opinion on this?"

This statement earned chuckles from both Embry and Quil, who lowered in their seats and shared a look with each other. I was in absolute disbelief. I stared blankly back at Jacob. "Have we ever spoken? Like, even once before?"

"Don't mind Jacob," Embry said, leaning in towards me while I kept my back stiff and straight, "he doesn't have to brain function to think of anything other than Bella right now."

I didn't like that they were talking to me about things I didn't know or care about like I was supposed to know or care about them. The most I knew about this Bella girl was that Quil thought she was hot and she dumped Jacob, and that was far more than I care to knew. "Look's who fucking talking?" Jacob quipped back, and I couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"Watch it," Embry said with wide eyes, and I picked my book back up and decided to pretend that they weren't there.

I was reading about the use of rosemary in witchcraft and thought about how stupid it was for my mother to name me after an herb while the boys around me grew rowdier. They were hard to ignore, and I could feel the looks Embry kept shooting my way. There was so much going on in the background I couldn't focus on the text and instead started to let my mind wander, imagining the witches in Macbeth writing this book. And this thought was so intriguing to me that I almost didn't notice when the boys around me feel silent.

I looked over at Embry first, who was nervously looking between me and the other end of the table. I followed his gaze to see her standing straight with watery eyes at the edge of our table. Her hands were shaking and Jared stood a few inches behind her, hand on her shoulder. And all of the tenseness in my body returned. I didn't want to know what she wanted and I didn't want to hear her voice and I thought that if I did I might lose it.

I wasn't the only one feeling the tenseness. Quil and Embry both scooted closer to me in their chairs, shoulders stiffened. For a moment, there was nothing, just Kim and I, staring each other down, while everyone around us shot their eyes all over the scene, waiting for one of us to make the first move.

Her mouth opened, and a tear fell down her cheek, and before her voice could escape, I cut her off. "Kim," I spoke, voice low and strong, "I would think really carefully about whether or not what you're gonna say is worth it, because I'm a person of my word, and I would hate to get your blood on your boyfriend's shirt."

Kim's face was puffed up and there was makeup on her cheeks and she held her breath so tight I could see it piling up in her apple cheeks. Her shoulders were shaking and then it was like it all built up and she let out her breath and her sobs and all the tears out at once before turning on her heel and running towards the door. Jared made a point to shake his head at me before following her. I didn't care. I just didn't want to hear her voice.

Seth was the first to break the silence with softened, "Jesus Christ," and that was the final straw for me.

"Well," I said standing and gathering my stuff, "it was super fun to have my personal space and alone time intruded on, but I'm gonna go now. Really, super great guys." Embry stood next to me and grabbed my upper arm, and I yanked it away from him. "Don't touch me," I snarled, and walked away from that stupid little table.

I wasn't surprised when he followed me but I didn't turn around when he said my name. I hated public confrontation and I was hyper aware of all of the eyes that were following me out the door while Embry chased after me. There was this stark image of Briah with a bloodied nose in the middle of the cafeteria with arms opened up and his booming voice in my eyes while I pushed the door opened and stormed out. I didn't like an audience he like he did.

Embry's voice was echoing down the halls while I headed towards the front entrance. He caught up with me easily, stepping in front of me and blocking my path. He looked down at me with those same disappointed eyes Quil gave me. "Remy, what the hell was that?"

"It was none of your business," I said, trying to walk past him but he matched my step.

"Do you really have to resort to violence in everything you do? What if she was going to apologize, Remy?" I hated the sincerity in his voice and I wished I could pretend that Embry really didn't care about this, but I knew from his voice and his posture and his eyes that he really, really did.

"Then it would've been none of your business."

Embry sighed. "Remy, I want it to be my business, okay? Why can't you see that I care about you? That I want to be your friend and see you happy?"

My voice was quiet when I spoke again because I needed to maintain control over myself, because I felt like I was the last thing I could control. "Jesus, Embry, you can't just walk into my life out of nowhere and start demanding that I act differently and say it's because you care about me. You don't care about me because you don't know me. We've lived on the same reservation for seventeen years and you hadn't said one word to me the entire time, not even when Bear went missing. And now you wanna say you care about me?"

"Remy," he said in that stupid gentle voice with his stupid gentle eyes and I wanted to scream. I couldn't stand Embry Call.

"And I think you might have some weird, preconceived idea of what you want me to be like and have like, latched onto that or something, but that's not real and that's not me, so please stop acting like you know me," I finished, feeling breathless.

Embry shook his head. "I feel like I'm taking one step forward and fifty-steps back," he mumbled, and I didn't know if he was saying it to me or to himself but it didn't make any sense to me and I hated how confused he made me.

"Well can you take a step to the left and get out of my way?" I asked, feeling tired.

"Can you just," he started, but trailed off and bit his lip, looking around the halls, "can you just give me another chance? We can be friends, Remy. And I wanna know you, I really do, and-"

"Jesus Christ," I interrupted. I placed a hand on Embry's shoulder and shoved him out of the way. He was stiff and heavy and I knew that I probably couldn't knock him out of my way unless he let me. But he did. He stumbled back and out of my way and I walked away without looking back at him.

Bobby's face was so close to mine I could feel her breath on my nose. "This is a really, really bad idea," she said, legs tangled up in her blankets.

I shifted my weight around on her bed and grinned. "Yeah, but I honestly think that makes it even better."

She rolled her eyes and leaned into me, needle pressed against the side of my nose. Her hand was gently trembling, despite the confidence in her voice. "I wish Embry Call and my good friend Kimmy would leave you alone so you'd stop dragging me into your destructive decisions. When did you even decide to do this?"

"Oh my god, just do it already," I urged, feeling the nerves in my veins. It was going to fade soon if she didn't get on with it.

Bobby inhaled sharply. "Alright, one, two," she counted, and then plunged in the needle right into the side of my nose. The pain made was sharp and made my eyes water and my nose scrunch up. "Fuck," Bobby said airily, "I think I'm gonna faint."

"Before you do that can you at least put the hoop in?" I said, wiggling around different parts of my face, trying to distract from the pinching in my nose.

"Right," she said, shaking her head and reaching around the bed for the small little hoop we had prepared. "I can't believe you talked me into this," she complained while she replaced the needle with the hoop, "you haven't even helped me with my essay yet."

I rolled my eyes. "It's only like, nine, we can still do your stupid essay."

Bobby pulled her hands away from my face and leaned back. "Damn, despite the blood I'd say it looks pretty good. I should've charged."

I rolled off of Bobby's bed and stood in front of her vanity, staring at my reflection in her over-sized and crystal clear mirror, examining the details of my face. The silver little hoop looked natural hooked around my nostril, and I would say the blood that dripped from the tiny little hole made it look even better. I felt good about the way I looked, even with the freckles and buggy eyes. "You're right you should've charged me. I look great."

"Alright, calm down, Remy. I don't think this friendship could withstand anymore ego," she said with a little laugh. "Now come help me with my fucking essay."

Bobby was good at a lot of things; film criticism, makeup, finding another person's weaknesses and exploiting it, but she was really fucking bad at writing history essays. It was all I could do not to laugh at the language she used. Her face was tight and scrunched up as I read through it. "Is it really that bad?" she asked sheepishly.

"I'm just really struggling to understand how someone with such a strong grasp on language in literally any other subject could seriously write out the sentence, Socrates was a really thoughtful guy."

She picked up one of her little throw pillows and tossed it in my laughing face. "Shut up," she pouted, 'it's harder than it looks."

My laughter was interrupted by the loud and cutting sound of a howl. It was a familiar sound, one that I had heard near my home on more than one occasion, but Bobby's eyes widened. "That sounded really close," she said, scrambling towards her window. I followed, dropping her essay on the bed.

We had popped out heads out the window just in time to see the tail of a grey wolf weaving through the trees. Bobby was frantic, voice hitched while she yapped about never seeing a wolf that big but I kept still while my blood went cold because I had seen a wolf that big before and I had a strange feeling that it had followed me up to Bobby's house, like it had done once before.

I felt weak, and sat down back down on Bobby's bed while she blabbered and thought briefly for a moment that that might be Bear.

thank you guys so much for reviewing! manypies, belovedfinch11, keemitthefrog, babyblue44, and everyone else, i love u all. bc of corona and everything, im gonna try to update this story five days a week until its finished. ive never had so much time to write so i really wanna give it my all. so what did we think of this chapter? how are we feeling abt the conflict/how remy's handling it? thank u guys for reading i rlly hope u liked it. one review=one pet for my cat and maybe a treat too. see u soon lov u