Emily,

Charlie Swan is actually a decent guy. I don't like admitting it, but it's true. He makes my mom happy, and that's what matters.

I was thinking about that, and then it made me start thinking about you. After that last letter, I just kind of shoved all the letters in a drawer and tried to stop thinking about it for a few weeks, which didn't work out. So now I'm back.

I can't even tell if I hate you any more. It used to be sort of an instinct, how I'd write "still hate you" at the end of each letter, like signing my name. I tried to write that I hated you at the beginning of this letter, but my hand froze up, and that made me mad. I want to hate you, honestly. I want to hate you because that would make things easier.

I don't hate you, though. And it's fucking killing me that I don't, because I'm so used to hating you that it became part of me. You know, Leah Clearwater, werewolf, nineteen, hates Emily Young for stealing her fiancé.

Maybe I can just try hating Sam for what he did, but it doesn't have quite the same ring to it at the end of each letter. I don't like "yours truly" because I'm not yours, so for now here's a blank line and the end of the letter.

Leah.

Emily,

Okay, I may have fucked up just a little. The Volturi, who are just vampire overlords, are showing up to murder vampire spawn because they think it's creepy and dangerous and shit. They're right, but Jacob doesn't like that, and he's somehow talked Sam's pack into showing up to defend vampire spawn. The vampire overlords can control people's minds, or something, it wasn't very clear, so we're probably all going to die.

Just to add insult to injury, the Cullens invited their vampire friends from everywhere, and most of them are a-okay with eating people. So this will be fun. Try to stay out of their way, I guess.

The lesbian one told me that I should try to look on the bright side. I told her there wasn't a bright side to dying for the sake of vampire spawn, and she looked at me and said that she has a plan, and then she straight up walked out on the Cullens and disappeared.

According to Bella's explanation to Jacob, or the bits of it that I could actually pick up, the lesbian one can see the future, but not when there are werewolves involved. So it does fuck all to help us with the upcoming fight. Basically, she straight up abandoned us. Yay, teamwork.

I'm considering running away too. If I can, I'll talk Seth into leaving with me, and if not I'll leave him behind and trust him to fight his own battles. I'll head down the coast to California or some place with more sunshine, and go to community college and become something important, and never have to worry about you people again. I'll be able to find someone else and forget Sam.

I still can't work out how to end these fucking things.

Leah.

Emily,

I thought about it for days. Hell, I packed a bag with everything I might need and some things I might want, and looked up the Greyhound schedule out of here, and then sat down and stared at the bag for hours. I kept unpacking it and repacking it because I was so sure I was missing something, but I had everything. Everything.

It might be Seth. I'll miss him if he stays here, but we'll keep in touch. I just don't fucking know any more. I don't know what I need, I don't know what I want, and that fucking scares me because I'm used to being sure about things. I'm used to being wrong, but I'm used to being sure.

Some of the vampires showed up. The Denali clan, from Alaska, and they're all even blonder and bitchier than that Cullen girl. At least they're vegetarians.

Leah.

Emily,

You know what you are? You're the most utterly fucking frustrating person I have ever met.

You were frustrating when we were little, when you'd say you had a secret and wouldn't tell me. You knew I didn't like people keeping secrets from me, and you knew I'd spend hours pestering you for the secret, and it always turned out to be "I love you so much because we're best friends for ever and ever." You thought that was so great, and it always made me a little annoyed, but I'd say that I loved you too because you got mad when I didn't say it.

You're frustrating now, since I can't tell why you keep doing this. You sent me a letter, an actual paper fucking letter, on nice paper, and all it said was "I'm sorry." If you're so sorry, why the fuck are you still marrying Sam? This was always about him, not me, and you just never admitted it.

Kind of back to hating you,

Leah.

Emily,

It never was about Sam.

It's four in the goddamn morning, but I couldn't sleep, and then it hit me.

It was always you. You were always so perfect, and so kind, and you were always with me. I didn't have much, never have and never will, but I had you. Sam was just an afterthought compared to all that.

I know why I never hated Sam quite as much as I hated you. Because it was never about taking Sam from me. It was always about you.

Fuck, I love you.

To be honest, I'm fucking terrified, but I don't let it show because that's not what I do. I'm a fighter. And when I'm sure of something, I don't waste time.

I don't know how you feel. I mean, hell, you're getting married next week. But you know, if you want, I'm leaving this place and never looking back. You could become a nurse or a teacher, like you always wanted to when we were younger, or whatever you want to be now. I'll work two jobs to put food on the table and I'll love you and the kid more than Sam ever will.

I don't know how you feel about any of this, but there's only one way to find out.

Tomorrow, when Sam is out, I'll give you the letters. I'll leave and let you read them. If the answer is no, you never have to see me again, and you can marry Sam and have a normal life.

If that's not what you want, I'll be outside your window at midnight with two bus tickets.

Yours truly,

Leah.