Wash your hands! Don't touch your face! Stay inside!
XXXXXXXXX
I'm going to fucking kill him. That stupid Radioactive song blared through the wall as Seth got ready for school the next morning. I rolled over and pulled my pillow over my head, cursing loudly. Sharing a wall with a 14-year-old boy was easily the most torturous thing you could put yourself through. This song fucking blows.
The warm and welcoming smell of fresh breakfast was making its way into my room from downstairs. I could hear my parents' chatter and laughter as they enjoyed their morning together; it was sweet. Usually, I would be absolutely giddy at the smell of breakfast and at the idea of spending time with my family first thing in the morning, but my head was pounding, and I could barely keep my eyes open. Hugging the pillow closer to my eyes, I attempted desperately to drown out the sound of my brother's music. Kill me now.
I ended up getting back to my house around 3 in the morning. Paul walked me all the way home and insisted on going back to his own house after I offered him the couch. He said that he needed the time to think about everything we had talked about. I could tell that being so open and vulnerable about his parents was a lot for him, so I let him go.
Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh, oh
I'm radioactive, radioactive
"Ugh!" I groaned, throwing myself out of bed. I pounded on the wall that connected my bedroom to Seth. "Turn it down, you fucking brat!" I yelled. God forbid I get to lie down for a little extra time without a fucking concert happening next door. I heard the music volume lower just enough to hear Seth mumbling to himself.
Mornings were always a clusterfuck for me. I kind of always felt like a chicken with my head cut off in the morning. Giving yourself like 45 minutes to get ready for the entire day, create an agenda, and mentally prepare yourself to be smiling and social was a task. I still hadn't heard from Sam since he all but ditched me at the bonfire. I hurriedly packed my book bag before checking my phone for the time. 7:37 aaand no texts or missed calls.
"Leah, Seth, breakfast!" my mother called. The morning was really the only time we got with both of our parents. Mom was an evening/night nurse and Dad sat on the Quileute council, which meant that he helped to make the most important decisions for the tribe on the reservation. Daddy was an open book about everything except his job. He was my favorite person in the world. Mom and I were a little different; we butt heads a lot, but we still shared a love for a lot of the same things. She wanted different things for me and didn't love that I was so stubborn, so bullheaded.
I ran downstairs as I flipped through my planner, attempting to make sense of my day. I placed a kiss on my dad's cheek and my mom's forehead before sitting down across from my brother. Breakfast with my family was the best part of my day. It was one of the things I'd miss most if I left. Mom made the whole spread: pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon. "Good morning," I chirped, placing my planner next to me. I quickly fixed my plate as I listened to the regular rustle of my father's morning paper and the clinking of forks against plates. I felt a big yawn escape my body as I picked up my fork.
"Tired this morning, sweetie?" my mother asked.
I nodded, "Only a little. I would be a little more rested if Bub wasn't blasting music this morning," I raised an accusatory eyebrow to Seth.
He smirked. "Or maybe she's tired because she came in at like 3 this morn—ow!" Seth exclaimed when I kicked him under the table. His elbow slammed on the table as he glared at me.
"Aileah Sage Clearwater, didn't we just have a conversation about breaking curfew?" my father lightly scolded. He flipped the page of his news paper, signaling that the issue wasn't much worth the scolding. He told my mom that we had a conversation about me not respecting curfew, but he really just told me that he got it. He understood.
"Just lost track of time, I guess," I muttered, still looking at my planner. I groaned when I saw that I wrote I had a calculus test first thing in the morning. My English paper on Great Expectations was due in the afternoon. My last volleyball practice ever was after school.
"Don't let it happen again," my father said, nudging my arm. I looked up to see him wink at me from behind his paper. Suppressing a smile, I went back to planning my day. My father, Harry, was everything to me. Between both of my parents, he wanted me to be able to say that I enjoyed my high school years. That's why he doesn't make such a big deal about us drinking at bonfires; it took a while to convince my mom, but eventually she wore down. He told her that life is too short to kill our fun. The only thing he ever asked was that we stay away from the woods at night. I never knew why, I never asked. I always figured if that's the one thing he'd ask of me, then the least I could do was respect it.
It's La Push. Nothing ever happens here. Literally nothing. Ever.
"Baby girl, you have to start respecting curfew. It's there for a reason. We want to make sure that you're safe," my mom reasoned. "What were you doing out there anyway?"
"Talking," I shrugged, innocently. Seth snorted before shoving his face full of food. What? It's true. I broke off a piece of bacon and popped it into my mouth. "Becca just needed some girl time, that's all."
"Wait, I thought I saw Rebecca leave early with some people. I didn't see you with them," Seth smirked again. Such a fucking brat. I loved my brother, but, for fuck's sake, at 14 years old, he was the worst version of himself.
I clenched my jaw before speaking in a condescending tone, "Must have been Rachel. You know, there are two of them, Bub. I know you can get confused sometimes."
"Alright, that's enough out of you two," my father said, definitely. "Hurry and eat so you two can get to school."
Seth looked at me, mockingly, while I glared at him. "I will kill you," I mouthed to him before turning my attention to my plate. We all made idle chit chat while we ate. Mom asked me if I wanted to shadow her at the hospital sometime during the summer. I narrowly avoided making that a concrete plan. Seth talked to Dad about wanting to try out for the baseball team this season. Seth had a love/hate relationship with baseball; honestly, the kid was talented, and he was always happier when he had something to throw himself into. He just hated the time commitment and the pressure to perform well.
Sports was a large part of the community. Most people tailgated for the football games against Forks High or rallied for the basketball games to support our boys. My parents had been to every single one of Sam and Paul's games since freshman year, as well as all of my volleyball games and Rebecca and Rachel's cheer competitions. It was just another one of those things that brought us together like one big happy family.
As we wrapped up breakfast, I was all of a sudden unnerved by how much time I had to get ready for the day. I flipped on my own music as I dressed myself, keeping a close eye on my phone, waiting for that regular I'm outside text from Sam. Sam was my knight in shining armor; he drove Seth and I to school everyday because I hate driving, I hate it so much.
"So where were you last night?" I heard from my door. I whipped around to see Seth, leaning against the doorframe. Despite grilling me at the breakfast table, he actually looked worried right now. He was a sweet kid at heart. The sweetest, actually. Sometimes he just can't help being a kid brother. "I tried to wait up for you, but I fell asleep."
"Just walking and talking, Bub. It's not a big deal," I said, adjusting myself in the mirror.
"With Paul?" he asked. I froze for a second before shaking it off. I didn't have anything to hide; we didn't do anything. It's not like I cheated on Sam or anything.
"Yes," I answered, nonchalantly. "He's my friend too. He wanted someone to vent to last night and I happened to be there for him."
"Alone?"
"Yes, Seth, alone," I snapped. I sighed before facing him again. "It's not a thing. Please don't make it a thing. Go get ready; Sam should be here soon." I sat down in front of my full-length mirror to start doing my makeup. The fluffy brush swept across my face as I applied my foundation and picked up my phone with my other hand. Hey, are you on your way? I text Sam.
Seth's worrisome eyes bore into the back of my head as he lingered by the door. He was quiet. "Does Sam know?"
I set my brush down before meeting his eye in the mirror. "I will tell him when I see him. But I promise, there's nothing to know."
Seth nodded his head before disappearing from my room. Shaking my head, I continued to get ready. We didn't do anything wrong. Paul and I are two adult people who had a conversation. There's nothing suspicious or bad about that. I chalked it up to Seth being too young to understand. He never knew about me having feelings for Paul once upon a time. All Seth has ever known is me being with Sam. As it should be.
"Get a move on, you two! Or you're going to be late!" Mom called. I heard Seth start to run downstairs and checked the time. Fuck. We were running late.
I grabbed my bag and trotted down the stairs when I heard Seth say to me, "Lee, he's not here. Where is he?"
No calls, no texts. What was going on? Sam was here at 8:20 every single morning, waiting in his car, and it was 8:35 with no word. I looked at Seth, a little panicked, before dialing Sam's number. "Hey, it's Sam. Leave a message." Straight to voicemail. Fuck.
"Ok," I breathed. "No big deal. I'll…" I groaned. "I'll just drive us."
Seth snorted, "You're going to drive?"
"Do you have any better ideas?" I asked, hauling my bag over my shoulder and heading toward the garage, hurriedly. I hadn't driven my car in months. I only drove when absolutely necessary, but Sam was always my ride. My little 2008 silver Toyota Corolla lie there in wait as I swung open the garage door, as it did most days. Sometimes, to get my parents' money's worth, Becca or Sam would drive my car, so it wasn't just sitting in the garage collecting dust and housing squirrels forever. Seth groaned obnoxiously as he plopped himself in the passenger seat. I hit the garage opener and took a deep breath. Ok, you got this, I thought to myself.
Pulling the gear into reverse, I felt myself rolling backward down the steep driveway. Oh my god, it's going too fast. I slammed on the brakes and watched as Seth lunged forward, the seatbelt locking promptly. "Lee!" he complained.
"Sorry! Sorry…ok, I got this…" I said more to myself. Where the hell was Sam?
XXXXXXXXX
"Mr. Fallon is a fucking sadist," Rebecca remarked as she opened her locker. "I thought the rest of senior year was supposed to be a breeze. Why would he make a test that hard?"
I rubbed my forehead in frustration, leaning against my locker next to hers. The halls were always overcrowded between classes and the closer it came to graduation, the more crowded it felt. Calculus was one of the only classes that Bex and I had together so the only other time I got to see her was at lunch and after school. "I couldn't even focus; I'm exhausted," I told her.
She glanced at me from around her locker door with a curious eye and a raised brow. "Ooh, did you and Sam get up to some mischief last night?" she asked, wiggling her perfectly shaped eyebrows.
I rolled my eyes and sighed, "No, I haven't seen Sam since his little disappearing act last night. He's not answering his phone; he didn't even pick us up this morning. I had to drive."
"You drove?"
"Poor Seth probably has whiplash," I pouted, hugging my binder close to my chest. Once Becca started joking on me about how horrible my driving is, I laughed to myself and felt myself tune her out. Glancing away from Bex, I saw Paul and Jared walk out of their classroom and toward us. Time slowed up just a bit, like it had the night before. I bit my bottom lip nervously as I watched him reach up to scratch the back of his head, the sleeves of his gray La Push high t-shirt hugging his biceps. Rebecca looked over her shoulder just as Paul caught my eye and gave me a subtle nod as they passed. I raised my hand to wave at him, weakly, before it fell to my side. He winked before turning his attention to Jared who was saying something to him about history.
I had been wondering how he was going to act toward me when we walked into school this morning. Paul understood that even though we had both admitted to missing each other's presence, there was still a boundary to respect. It would be weird for him to all of a sudden want to be around me all the time without Sam around. No Sam, no Paul. At least for now. Last night had been a steppingstone, I think. It was refreshing for Paul and me to have an honest and candid conversation. It was easy for him to make everything a big joke, but I don't know what it was about last night that made him feel comfortable enough to be at least a little more vulnerable than he had ever been with me. I wasn't afraid of Paul. I wasn't afraid to call him out on his shit, no matter who was around.
Becca snapped in front of my face twice, "Uh, hello? Earth to Leah." I blinked and focused on her again. She glanced over my shoulder at the boys before smirking at me. "What was that?"
"What was what?" I asked, pushing myself off of my locker. The warning bell sounded, and we started walking toward our next class.
"That intense moment of eye contact with Paul just now," she said, hooking her arm through mine. "Are we revisiting that little fling? Because I'm into it."
I laughed at my best friend before shaking my head, "We're not revisiting anything," I clarified. "After you ditched me last night—"
"I wouldn't call it ditching, but ok—"
"—to go fuck Blake Phoenix—" I continued.
"—honestly, wasn't even worth it—"
"Paul and I actually talked last night. Just the two of us. It was kind of nice," I admitted, scrunching my nose in slight apprehension.
We stopped in front of Becca's classroom, art history with Ms. Littlesea. Becca faced me with a look of intrigue on her face. "What did he say? Did something happen?"
"Nothing happened," I emphasized. The halls were starting to clear, and I knew that the final bell would ring soon. Becca looked conflicted between getting the gossip and not getting a tardy for standing right outside the class when the bell rang. "We'll talk later. Text me when you get to free period."
High school is as tedious as it gets. As I slummed through the rest of my morning, I thought about Sam as I usually would. Except this time, when I thought about him, my stomach had this sense of dread that I couldn't shake. Something was happening and not knowing was driving me crazy. Sam Uley was the most reliable, most trustworthy guy you could ever meet. In 12 years, he had only missed school once; he had strep throat and had still come in to take his finals, quarantined from the rest of the class.
With him disappearing at the bonfire and then not answering the phone today, I was worried he might be hurt. But what exactly was the protocol here? The administration didn't really take students skipping class that serious. It was rare that the school punished us for leaving campus before school was over. But Sam was different; he did so much for the school, I wondered if they would pay more attention because it was him.
The timing of this is all so strange. Why would he wait until the end of senior year to start skipping class? Unless he actually was hurt. Or sick.
I sulked through three more classes before it was time for free period, which I always used as a study hall. Walking into the library, I saw Paul sitting by himself. He was hunched over his tattered American history book and a notebook that looked like it had all of the pages ripped out. His face was completely stone as he scribbled furiously in his notebook. You could almost see the steam coming out of his ears from how frustrated he looked. Almost as if he could feel me looking at him, Paul glanced up at the door where I was standing. His eyes lit up for a second before he smiled. He pushed the chair in front of him away from the table with his foot as he nodded to the space.
It was weird. Yup. It was really weird. But I was kind of ok with it. Sitting down, I pulled out my laptop to finish the final touches on my English paper but didn't say anything. And he didn't say anything either. He just went back to his history book. Glancing at the page, I read the words "industrial revolution" and blew out a breath. Senior year was the last chance we'd get to do it right. There was no time for fuck ups and I think we were all feeling it. Going away to college or not, we were getting down to the wire and how we did this semester would determine if we would make everyone proud as we crossed that stage. It was intimidating; some of us were dealing with it better than others.
Paul and I sat quietly for a while, me typing, him studying. After a while, I felt his foot nudge mine, playfully. I glanced up at him as he wiggled his eyebrows; I laughed a little before looking back down at my computer. I continued my work when Paul nudged me again; I ignored him, trying to keep my face from smiling. Then, slowly but surely, I saw the top of my laptop come to a close with a light click after I moved my hands. "What?" I laughed, turning my attention to him.
"You wanna skip?" He whispered, leaning forward. He had closed his history book and pushed it away from in front of him.
"Excuse me?" I smirked.
Paul shrugged, "I feel like we should skip. We're both so stressed out. I can feel it."
"No, Paul, you're stressed out," I corrected, opening my computer again. "Besides, I can't. My paper is due this afternoon."
"Ugh, I forgot you're a little Miss Goody," he joked, leaning back in his chair. "You and Sam can be a little uptight. Come on, Leah, live a little. You used to be fun."
I rolled my eyes. "Nice try," I said to him. "Maybe you could afford to be a little more uptight. Graduation will be here before you know it."
"All the more reason to live your best life now rather than later," Paul reasoned, kicking his feet up on the table. "Fine, what are you doing after school?"
"I have volleyball practice," I said, concentrating on my essay.
"Skip it," he dared me.
I scoffed, amused. Closing my computer, I crossed my arms over my chest. "What is with you today?"
"I wanna hang out with you, Lee," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the whole world. "You know, since we're best friends now."
If I could only explain how I felt when he said that to me, I feel like I would be putting myself in a compromising position. I think everything that we had been through since we were kids was finally coming to a head of some kind. It was nice to have my friend back and it was nice to be able to talk to him without feeling uncomfortable. But there was still this lingering, nagging feeling inside of me that was aware that Sam would not be okay with this. I wasn't sure if I really cared about that though. I had had a scary thought a couple of weeks before Sam started acting weird. And started to think to myself what if Sam was only meant to be a high school boyfriend? What if my relationship with Sam wasn't meant to go past adolescence? Sam was a wonderful boyfriend, but I still wanted to leave our home and create something new for myself. I wasn't sure if Sam was ready for that. Sam was safe and there's nothing wrong with that. But I found myself wanting more adventure in our relationship instead of the constant stability and security that came with Sam. Yet here I was denying an adventure here with Paul.
Jared plopped down in a chair next to Paul. "Hey, Lee, where's Sam?" he asked. His eyes wore concern and I could see that little vein in his forehead was pulsating. Jared pushed Paul's feet off of the table.
"I don't know," I answered. "What's up?"
"His mom just called me. He didn't come home last night."
My stomach dropped into my butt. Everything else didn't matter. Him not picking me up for school, disappearing in the middle of a party, acting strange to me. None of that mattered. All of that could be explained away. Sam was always there for his mom, no matter what. About a year ago, we found out that she was sick…
I found him sitting on one of the swings on the playground in the pouring rain. His head hung low as he swung back and forth. His shoulders were shaking just a little, but I couldn't hear him over the downpour. The diagnosis came as a surprise to everyone. Breast cancer.
After Joshua, Sam's father, left, Allison really put in the work to make sure that she could provide for Sam. She was regularly pulling doubles at the diner while working to start her own business so she could work her own hours and spend more time with Sam. Allison was the entire world to Sam. She was the sweetest person on the whole reservation. And I hated the idea of her suffering ever.
I carefully sat on the swing next to Sam without a word. He lifted his head and I hated how broken he looked. His eyes were bloodshot red and his chin was trembling as if he was trying to contain his sadness. My lips parted as I tried to think of something to say. What could I say that would make this better? There was nothing. I reached for him as the tears fell from his eyes again. "I don't know what to do," he said. I put my hand over his and felt it shake.
I nodded in understanding. His head hung again as the rain fell all around us. "I'm so sorry, Sam."
"What am I supposed to do, Lee? I can't lose her…"
I had been sitting on the porch waiting for Allison and Sam to come back from the doctor's office. She had found a lump while she was showering and she, somehow, was the only person who wasn't panicking. When they came back, Sam immediately slammed the door of their old truck, looked at me, and took off in the opposite direction. Allison stayed put in the truck, looking down at her lap. When I asked her how she was, she put on the brightest smile she could muster and told me that it was going to be ok and to find Sam.
To Sam, Allison was superwoman. "You're not going to lose her," I tried to promise. "It'll be alr—,"
"Don't." The pain in his voice rang out. The pain was so loud. "Don't fucking say that to me."
"Sam, sweetie, she needs you right now. She's scared."
"I'm scared," he stood up abruptly. Sam paced for a second, kicking up dirt with each step. His hands clenched and unclenched as he continued to force deep breaths. Then he reared his arm back and punched a tree. "Fuck!" he shouted.
"Oh my god, Sam," I jumped and rushed to him. I grabbed his hand to check for damage and he snatched his arm away, turning his back to me. "Can you please just talk to me?"
"Just…leave me alone. Ok?"
Allison went into remission pretty quickly after her diagnosis, thank God. But Sam was still sure to spend as much time with her as he could. The idea of losing her was terrifying to him. While Allison always encouraged Sam to live his best life and to explore as much as he could, Sam's commitment to his family was greater than any desire to live for himself. "I went to Principal Rivers after Allison called me. She was really freaked out," Jared sighed.
"What did Rivers say?" Paul asked.
"He said he's looking into it and let me know if he finds anything out. But he didn't seem too concerned about it."
I scoffed, "Of course not." I shook my head and started to pack my bag. "That's not good enough. I'll go talk to Rivers myself."
When I walked out of the library, I could hear my heart beating in my ears. I needed Sam to be safe. If not for my sake, for Allison's. Sam wasn't the type to run away from home and I didn't really see any scenario where someone could kidnap some guy that's 6'6" and 275 pounds of pure muscle. And crime rates around here were always low. But one thing was for sure. Things around here got swept under the rug far too often and I wasn't about to let that happen.
"Hey, Lee, wait up," I heard behind me. Turning around, I saw Paul and Jared running to catch up with me. "We'll go with you."
I pursed my lips before nodding. I understood how important this was for them; Sam was their brother just as much as he was my boyfriend.
XXXXXXXXX
"What do you mean there's nothing you can do? There's tons that you can do!" I shot up out of my chair, outraged. My voice bounced off the walls so much, I was giving myself a headache.
Principal Rivers carefully took his glasses off of his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. His long hair was swept up into a ponytail; it was graying more by the day. I remember meeting Rick Rivers when I was 6 years old. He was always one of those people that I knew not to get on his bad side. If no non-sense was a person, it was Principal Rivers. Usually, I made it a point to steer clear of him because he was such a hard ass. Today was not one of those days though. "Miss Clearwater…" he started.
"No, I think it's bullshit that one of your students is missing and you're sitting on your ass," I spat. I felt Paul put a hand on my arm to get me to calm down, but I shrugged it off. Mostly because I was already digging myself a deep hole. Might as well stick it out to the end.
Rivers sighed, "I'm going to let the language slide this time because I can see that you're upset, Miss Clearwater." He gave me a stern look. "But until Sam has been gone for 48 hours, my hands are tied."
Paul spoke up, "Whoa, 48 hours? That's a little steep." He touched my arm again, silently urging me to sit down. I glanced at him before perching myself on the edge of the chair. He gave me a look that told me it was time to calm down.
"I'm afraid that's protocol, kids, I'm sorry. Once the 48 hours are up, the council will start an investigation into Sam's disappearance. Until then, it really is out of my hands," Rivers shrugged, lacing his fingers on top of his desk.
"The council?" I asked. "Why would the council investigate this? My father knows Sheriff Swan—the actual police. Why wouldn't the police handle this?" My dad was on the council, along with Rebecca and Rachel's father, Billy, Old Quil Ateara, and some other old people who had absolutely no background in law enforcement.
The phone on his desk started to ring. "That's just how things work around here. I'm really sorry, guys," Rivers said, dismissively. "I'll be sure to let one of you know if I see Sam though. I'll keep an eye out. You all should probably get back to class."
After Rivers essentially throwing us out of his office, I felt myself feeling more frustrated than ever. Why did no one care? Sam was such an integral part of this entire school and no one cared that he wasn't here. Paul, Jared, and I stood outside the administration office quietly. My mind was reeling. Mostly because I didn't understand why it seemed like we were the only people who seemed to want to do something about this. I stared at my feet as I shook my head. "I'll see you guys later, ok?" I mumbled before pivoting on my heel and walking away. I heard Paul call my name, but I just pretended I didn't. There was only two people that could make me feel better right now.
I stepped into the old gym to see Rebecca coming down from a handstand on the mat before preparing herself to throw a roundoff back handspring. Rachel was standing on the other side of the mat, ready to guide her at any moment. When Becca came down, her feet landed hard. "You're pushing it, Becca. Pull into your core more to control your landing," Rach said. Bex nodded before walking across the floor to do it again. Becca always used her free period to play around in the old gym; usually Rachel was right beside me in the library to study, but every once and a while, she'll join Bex for some sister bonding.
"Hey!" I called to them. They both looked at me. Their identical faces wore the same curiosity as I approached them, my arms hugging myself. "Can I talk to you guys?"
"What's up, babe?" Rachel asked.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "We have a little bit of a situation. Allison said that Sam didn't come home last night."
"Oh, shit," Becca remarked.
I nodded, swallowing hard. "I need you guys to ask around. See if anyone has seen him since the bonfire. Jared and Paul already told me they haven't seen him. I'm starting to get worried now."
"Whatever you need, Lee, we're here for you," Rachel put a comforting hand on my shoulder. I placed mine over hers and said a quiet thank you before we heard the bell ring. Without another word, I felt as both Rachel and Rebecca went into doting mode. My best friends walked with me to lunch, both holding me up in some way. They were just always right there for me when I needed them. They were my twin pillars. Becca hooked her arm through mine as we sat down at our usual table. The cafeteria was buzzing with conversation around us. "You need to eat something. I'll grab you some food, sweetie," Rachel said, moving toward the line. Rach was always the mothering type, always a nurturer.
Frustrated, I put my face in my hands and groaned. Becca started to rub my back as I mumbled curse words under my breath. The table shook a little bit and I heard a quiet, "Is she alright?" It was Paul.
"This whole Sam thing has her rattled," Becca answered, gently alternating between rubbing and patting my back. "Can you drive her car back after—oh my god."
"What?" a pause. "Oh shit."
I looked up to see what the fuss was and came in direct eye contact with a smiley, sunshine-y Samuel Uley. Donned in his letterman jacket and some old jeans, Sam strutted into the cafeteria as if he didn't have a care in the world. His face lit up as he saw me, making his way toward me and the rest of our friends. He stopped for a second to dap up some guy from our class before plopping himself right next to me. "Hey baby," he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. I promptly leaned away from him, glaring at him. His brows furrowed in confusion before leaning in again. I held up my hand to stop him. "What's up with you?" he asked.
"Sam, you're an idiot," Bex called from the other side of me. Where Rach was a nurturer, Bex was more of a bodyguard. Actually, she was more of a pitbull. She appreciated more of a straightforward approach than to cater to making people feel better. "Did you really just walk in here like everything's fine?"
"What are you talking about, Rebecca? Everything is fine," Sam shrugged, throwing an arm around my shoulders. He finally managed to kiss my cheek as I sat there stunned and irritated. "How's my girl today?"
How was I today? Flustered. Frustrated. Confused. Rebecca started uneasily tapping her fingers on the lunch table. Paul was watching the three of us carefully, his amber eyes darting between me, Sam, and Becca. Usually, Rebecca was respectful of my relationship with Sam; she hardly intervened or interjected while we argued. But, considering Sam was acting like nothing was wrong, I could practically feel the fight boiling inside her. His hot skin was scalding my shoulders even through his jacket as he waited for me to answer him. I watched as Rebecca opened her mouth to rip into Sam when Jared cut her off before she could start.
"Yo, Sam, have you talked to your mom today?" Jared asked.
"Nah, I'll see her later. It's fine," he answered nonchalantly. I glared at him as he shrugged and smiled at me. There was something that wasn't connecting in his eyes. Like his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "You good?" he asked me.
I just shook my head. I took a deep breath before speaking, "Can we talk?"
"Sure, baby," Sam said, standing up and holding his hand out to me.
Becca put a hand on my shoulder. "Do you want to do this here?" she asked me quietly. I rolled my eyes and told her it was fine.
Sam led me out into the hallway by the small of my waist. We walked past Jacob Black and his little friends who were posted up in the hallway right outside the cafeteria. "What's up Sam? Hey Leah." Jacob called, waving. He was a good kid; he looked up to Sam a lot. They were on the football team together and Sam really took Jacob under his wing. Jacob was just like this cute little kid who was always so excitable. I shot him a small smile as we continued to walk until we were completely removed from all of the crowds.
I leaned against the wall of lockers with my hands behind my back and just watched Sam as he uncomfortably scratched at the back of his neck. The sunshine-like smile had vanished from his face and now I was looking at the real Sam. His eyes were immediately drained of any positive emotion and he looked tired. I bit my lip and looked down, away from him. "What's happening?" I asked.
Sam slid down the wall until his butt hit the ground. "Leah…" he sighed. "It's fine. I'm ok."
"I didn't ask if you were ok. I asked what's happening," I stated. "You're obviously fine. I can see that you're fine."
His lips set in a hard line. "I'm just dealing with some shit, Lee Lee. I don't know what you want from me."
"I want you to talk to me." I threw my hands up. "You owe me that much."
"It's…it's not something I can really talk about…" he murmured. "I would love it if you just let it go."
"Allison called Jared this morning because you didn't go home last night, Sam!" I exclaimed as quietly as I could. "This isn't just me being a bitching girlfriend. I'm worried about you. Paul and Jared are worried about you. All of us. We're all worried, Sam!"
His head landed on the lockers behind him in a thud as he stared up at the ceiling. I felt a small lump in my throat as I watched this man who has given me his heart and soul for three years now. He was very clearly going through something and I just wanted to be that person that he trusted enough to talk to about it. Sam didn't talk; he just kept staring at the ceiling.
"If you need help, I'm here," I said, crouching in front of him. I took his hands in mine as I tempered my next question. "Is it…is it drugs?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Leah!" He ripped his hands from mine and stood up. He walked around me, his anger flaring big. "Drugs? Are you fucking kidding me? Is that who you think I am?"
"What else am I supposed to think?" I asked, whirling around to face him again. "Your own best friends don't know where you're running of to in the middle of the day! And then you come back around with a smile and a joke as if you're not acting completely different than the person that we know you to be. If it's not drugs, what is it?"
I watched as his hands started to tremble and something that sounded like a low growl was coming from his chest. "You're really not going to drop this, are you?"
"You've known me for 18 years and we've been together for three of them. What do you think?"
"I think you need to mind your fucking business and trust me when I say I'm fine," he snapped. The tremors began to move up and soon his whole torso and his arms were shaking.
He started to walk away and I felt my heart squeeze looking at his back turned to me. "Sam, please just talk to me!" I cried to his back. He looked back at me before shaking his head and heading toward the exit. I don't know how long I stared at the door after he walked out of it.
Every single day, I wrote down a pro or con of leaving La Push. And almost every con had been about Sam or my family. I deal with the guilt of wanting to leave all the time; I hated the idea of Sam hating me for wanting to leave our hometown. But how long was this weird spell going to last? How long would Sam avoid answering questions about his strange behavior before we finally just broke it off and went our separate ways?
I didn't even realize I was crying until I touched my face. Wiping the moisture from my cheeks, I wandered the halls for the remainder of lunch. Ignoring every ding of a notification from my phone, my mind raced as I contemplated the situation at hand. The school was so small, it consisted of two hallways with a staircase at each end. There weren't very many places to hide or find peace and quiet. After a while, I found myself hugging my knees to my chest in a window nook in one of the staircases.
I didn't like to miss classes, but as the bell rang once again, I just couldn't bring myself to put on a strong enough mask to hide that my feelings were really hurt. The staircase flooded with people leaving lunch and going to class. I stared out the window, waiting for the halls to clear. The back window faced the woods, a heavy fog looming over the top of the trees. That's kind of what my head felt like. Foggy.
"Lee," I heard. I turned around to see Bex and Paul standing in front of me. Becca had my backpack hanging on her elbow and a worried look on her face. She offered me a sad smile before sitting next to me. "You ok?"
"I don't…" I stopped. I shook my head and shrugged. "I don't get it."
"Get what, babe?" she asked me.
"Why won't he talk to me?" I asked. It wasn't something Rebecca could answer, but I feel like that was the only thing that was running through my mind at that moment. But did I have any right to be asking that? Considering I was keeping a secret of my own from him…
"I wish I could answer that for you, babe." Rebecca sighed before putting her hand on my knee. "You wanna get out of here?" she asked.
I sat up and shook my head. "I need to turn in my paper. And Seth…he needs a ride home. I can't just leave."
"I will take care of everything you need here," she reassured me. "Paul is going to drive you home so you can get some rest." I started to protest when Becca gave me a stern look. "I don't want to hear any 'buts'. Rach and I will check on you later. Just rest please."
I didn't have much time to really process before Paul picked me up bridal style and carried me down the stairs. "This isn't necessary," I grunted as I struggled against him. He just shrugged and told me to deal with it.
XXXXXXXXX
"Oh, it is on, like a prawn who yawns at dawn," I could hear the television when I woke up. A deep chuckle came from my left and I felt my eyes flutter open to see Paul sitting in the aqua blue bean bag chair next to my bed. His feet were kicked up on my footboard and he had a little swipe of flour across his forehead. He had changed from his jeans and La Push football hoodie into a black tank top and some sweatpants. His eyes flicked to me and he smirked, "Good morning, sunshine."
I stretched before sitting up, pressing my back against my headboard. "You're still here?" I asked, my voice groggy from sleep. He handed me a glass of water and nodded. "How long was I asleep?"
"A couple hours. It didn't feel right to leave you alone," he said. "Harry was here, but he left to go run errands with Billy, I think."
"And Seth?"
"At the Littlesea's house," he answered. He gestured toward the nightstand. When I looked, I saw a perfectly frosted cinnamon roll sitting on a saucer next to an empty saucer riddled with crumbs. "I made your favorite."
Paul was a talent in the kitchen. It was one of his secret special skills. When my family took him in, he would watch my mom cook for every meal. And I think it was because he had never seen a mother be so maternal and because my mom made cooking the most mesmerizing and comforting thing in the world. She never tasked him with cooking for us; all she ever wanted was to make sure that he was taken care of. And she always encouraged him to do what he liked.
So, after a few years of watching, Paul decided that he wanted to learn. He would help mom prep food and learned about spices and baking and what he liked and didn't like. When my parents went out of town, he would cook up a storm and have Seth and me be taste testers. But, much like Paul's other interests, he kept his love of cooking and baking confined to my house because he didn't want his parents to destroy that passion in him.
Cinnamon rolls were my favorite. When we were 15, he would make them all the time, just for me. First, he would just pop them in the oven from those little tin cans, but he never told me that over time, he was learning how to make them from scratch because I loved them so much. He was just always thoughtful that way. I picked up the plate and held it under my nose. It smelled amazing and it was still warm. I broke off a piece and felt it melt in my mouth. "Oh my god," I moaned. "That's delicious."
"Yeah?" his face brightened a little. "Good. I figured you needed a pick me up. The kitchen's a wreck though. Flour everywhere."
"I see that," I giggled. "It's still all over your face."
He swiped at his cheek, wrinkling his eyebrows. "Where?"
"Here, I'll get it," I reached over as he leaned in. With my clean hand, I gently wiped the flour from his forehead and, when I breathed in, he smelled of fresh dough and cinnamon. My hand lingered for a second as we made eye contact. I could see the dark flecks in his eyes; that's how close I was to his face. The antics of The Office kind of faded for a second before I blinked and sat back in my bed. Jesus, what was that? Why did that keep happening? Less than 24 hours of being Paul's friend again and I kept feeling…things. "Uh, thank you for the cinnamon roll. You didn't have to go to all that trouble."
"Nah, it's no problem," he shrugged, pretending that that wasn't weird. He scooted himself down in the bean bag chair before gesturing again to the nightstand. "Oh, and something came in the mail for you."
On my nightstand, there was another enrollment package. This time? University of Miami. I didn't even need to open it to know that it was a yes. Picking it up anyway, I tore open the envelope and read the first few words:
Dear Aileah,
Congratulations! We are delighted to offer you admission to the University of Miami…
I bit my lip to suppress a smile before slipping the admissions letter back into the envelope. I set it on the other side of my bed, away from Paul's view. "Good news, yeah?" he asked, nonchalantly.
"You could say that," I replied, turning my attention to the TV.
"Miami," he started. "A little far from home, don't you think, Lee?" I turned my head to look at him. He wasn't watching me. He was watching The Office as if he didn't just find out the secret that I've been keeping from literally everyone except Rebecca for months now. "Does Sam know?"
I sighed, glancing at the admissions envelope again. I didn't answer him for what felt like too long. I didn't think that Paul was going to go running to tattle on me, but this wasn't ideal. What was my plan? Leaving in the dead of night and then telling people, "Oh yeah, I'm not coming back if I can help it. So sorry!" That was a shitty plan. And I didn't want it to happen that way. Honestly, I didn't have a plan on how to explain all of this. I still hadn't officially decided if I was leaving yet.
"No, Sam doesn't know. Please don't tell him," I begged.
Paul shot me a look of offense. "I wouldn't do that," was all he said.
"I know…but…"
"Covering your bases. I get it," he shrugged. "I'm not the snitch out of the three of us, though. Jared is."
"Yeah…I guess…" I watched his face for a second. Narrowing my eyes, I asked, "Why are you being so cool about this?"
He chuckled, "It's not my business, Lee. You gotta do what makes you happy. And if getting out of here is what makes you happy, then you should do that."
I sighed, "I just wish Sam would see it that way."
Paul rolled his eyes and snorted. He kicked his feet back up on my bed before folding his hands under his head. "Sam's an idiot. If it was me, I'd be packing up right beside you without a second thought."
"I wish it was that easy."
"Doesn't seem worth it to me if it's not that easy."