CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Zora gazed at the laminated menu sitting in front of her with extra determination, her brow furrowed as she read through all of the possible food options.

Only she wasn't actually reading.

In fact, she and Embry had visited Kathy's Korner so many times that she basically had the menu memorized. And she never looked through it because she always ordered the same thing – two large servings of cinnamon French toast with extra powdered sugar and a side of chocolate milk.

But this time was different because Quil and Jacob accompanied them. She needed the cover of concentration to hide her distraction because Jacob was squeezed into the small, mint-green booth with her, his shoulder, arm, and thigh pressed into the side of her body. Despite having his own menu, he was looking at hers, his face a bit too close as he leaned into her.

Stomach flittering, she coughed loudly, hoping to catch his attention and sighing when she failed to do so. "Jacob?"

"Hmm?" he hummed lazily, still scanning the breakfast section.

"Can you, like, move?"

He looked up then, confused and then wide-eyed as he noticed their closeness. A sheepish smile pulled at his lips as he promptly scooted away from her, the faintest hue of red blanketing his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

"Sorry," he said, rubbing the nape of his neck. He quickly reached for his own menu and flipped it open, staring at it with the same intensity she had.

Embry and Quil sat across from them, and while it was easy for Zora to ignore their smirks, she couldn't ignore the (annoying) absence she felt now that there was a small space between her and Jacob. She liked the feeling of his body pressed against hers, and that was an issue because they were supposed to be friends – something that was more difficult than she imagined because of her feelings, her very non-platonic feelings.

However, they were steadily growing closer.

Through conversation and time spent together—both a frequent occurrence these days—she learned more about him. She enjoyed hearing him talk about his favorite genre of music (surprisingly, it was metal), memories of him and his sisters rummaging through their mother's closet to play dress-up, and the goals he had for the future. The process felt natural, more human than the unfiltered, unlimited access they had to each other's thoughts through the pack mind.

Friendship was a path they hadn't been able to follow amidst the chaos of her sudden shifting and imprinting, the confusion and anger and hurt that followed, and the looming newborn battle. Though all of those instances were in the past, they weren't forgotten, so Zora would remain his friend and only that until her slowly healing heart was mended entirely.

But damn, was it hard. Because friendship didn't stop the accidental touches, the soft smiles, or the smoldering stares, all of which made her heart thud rapidly.

Unimpressed by their adorably awkward display, Quil rolled his eyes and yawned. "You two know what you want yet? Because we're hungry and ready to order."

"Yeah," she answered, folding her menu and pushing it away. "I know what I want."

Jacob nodded, his eyes lingering on her. "Me, too."


The ride to Port Angeles was a loud one.

The four of them piled into Jacob's Rabbit, him and Embry bickering about whether the driver or passenger got to control the radio while Zora sat in the back with Quil, his obnoxious snores rattling in her ear as he slept with his head nestled against her shoulder.

Having played Mario Kart to the point of boredom, they were headed into the city to hunt for more video games, and since Port Angeles was larger than Forks (and even larger than La Push), the thrift stores there boasted more promise than the ones closer to home.

Zora was excited. She hadn't visited the city in a long time, and with her busy schedule of working and patrolling, she didn't get out of La Push often. As she climbed out of the backseat—Quil's snores turning into desperate gasps of breath as her knee accidentally collided with his stomach—she marveled at the rows of small, bustling shops, boutiques, cafes, and restaurants.

"So, what's the game plan?" she grinned. "Where are we headed?"

Still catching his breath, Quil sputtered, "The game plan…is to hit up all of the thrift stores…and search for Crash Bandicoot."

"And if you see someone with it, snatch it out of their greedy little hands," Embry added.

"What if it's a kid?" Jacob asked.

Quil shrugged. "Same rule applies. Children won't be spared."

Boisterous laughter erupted from all of them as they headed to their first destination, a store called "Funky Thrift" that specialized in vintage clothing, appliances, and hopefully, Nintendo 64 games.

Zora was walking alongside Embry, all smiles and enthusiasm and caught up in joking with Jacob and Quil when she finally became attuned to the sensation of being watched. She tore her gaze away from her friends for a moment, noticing that not only were they being stared at from the opposite sidewalk, but that people were blatantly looking at them as they walked past her and the guys.

She was so used to home and being surrounded by the rest of the pack that she hadn't realized how much they stuck out in crowds of "normal" humans—four abnormally tall teenagers dressed in shorts, t-shirts, and sneakers despite the chill and the drizzling rain.

"Don't the stares bother you?" she asked Embry, meeting the eyes of a stranger who quickly averted his gaze.

"Nah," he answered. "I know no one's going to start shit, but if they do…" he trailed off, grinning as he flexed one of his biceps.

She gave a huff of laughter, playfully nudging his side.

As they continued walking, though, she became increasingly aware of the amount of curious whispers and gazes from girls, all of which were focused entirely on Embry, Quil, and Jacob. The first two reveled in the attention, casting mischievous smiles at any girl who so much as blinked at them. Jacob, on the other hand, didn't respond at all, and while she felt smug and satisfied at all of the downturned expressions, his oblivious act only made the stares and whispers and giggles worse.

Although she was bothered—because who the hell did those girls think they were ogling her imprint—something else was troubling her, a feeling she didn't like that crept into her mind.

She was glad to finally be inside of the store, the stagnant air and smell of dust providing a momentary sense of calm. The four of them headed straight for the electronics section, hoping to come across an assortment of old video games, and finding a bunch of random controllers and broken consoles instead.

"God damn it!" Quil shouted, ignoring the pointed look from the middle-aged woman at the cash register. "What kind of bullshit is this?"

Zora snorted. "Maybe it wasn't the best idea to come to a place that sells bell bottoms, but I'd be more than happy to buy you a pair."

Jacob grinned. "You would look pretty hot in bell bottoms, man."

"He's definitely got the ass for them," Embry added.

"Ha-ha-ha. You're all class act comedians," Quil grumbled in annoyance. "Let's get out of here. I'm sick of looking at this pile of junk." He began stomping towards the exit, but stopped suddenly, whipping around to glare at his friends. "And you're absolutely right – I'd look hot as fuck in bell bottoms."


Their second destination was only a few steps away, a Goodwill that Quil was optimistic about because according to his wisdom, "Goodwill's usually had a lot of random shit." The store was considerably larger than the first, rows upon rows of pre-owned clothing, shoes, books, furniture, toys, and much to her friends' delight, video games.

She separated herself as they perused the available options, quietly wandering towards the racks of women's clothing. She could certainly use another pair of cut-offs—she'd gone through several pairs since her first phase—but she hadn't approached the aisle for that reason. Her eyes lingered on the blouses and dresses, finger tips trailing along the soft, delicate fabrics.

Now that she had a chance to be alone, her smile crumpled and a frown took its place. The feeling she didn't like made its way back to her, heavy as it settled in the pit of her stomach.

Because soft and delicate were two things she wasn't.

She clenched her jaw, recalling the stares her friends received; the looks of intrigue, the hushed whispers about "how attractive" the boys were. And then she thought of the way she'd been stared at, the craned necks as she was gawked at like an oddity at a circus attraction.

And the whispers she listened to with feigned indifference:

"She's tall, like too tall, and she's too muscly."

"Do you think she's with one of those guys?"

"No way, I'm sure they're just friends."

"Yeah, there's no way they'd be into her."

Zora was self-conscious, and she hated it.

Before she phased, she'd never given much thought to her physical appearance. She liked the way she looked – until Jacob came into her life and towed Bella along with him, the girl who could make her feel inadequate without even trying because she was small and frail and her skin was pale and her lips were pink and her hair was wavy and her face was soft.

And Zora had none of those things.

Her features, inherited from her father, were angular, her jaw sharp, her nose prominent, her eyebrows thick, her hair an inky black, her eyes dark, her skin brown. And she was tall—taller than the most of her classmates—and had muscles and was intimidating and she wondered if all of it was good enough, if she was good enough.

For a while, she believed she wasn't, had spent many sad nights comparing herself to the leech lover, wondering why – why her?

And then it wasn't Bella anymore.

It was her—Zora—that Jacob had feelings for, and while it was elating and nerve-wracking and a relief all at once because finally, finally it was her, one anxiety-ridden thought had precedence over the rest: why was it her? He had denied her for so long, had pushed her away and managed to reel her back in. How could he move on so quickly? Was he using her? Was he settling? Or was it because of the imprint, the unbreakable tether that bound them, weaved like thread through their hearts, their souls.

And the worst thought of all, the one she struggled—and barely managed—to shield from the pack, the one that now reverberated through her mind: did the imprint force him to like her?

She gripped the dress she was touching, her eyes watering as a shallow breath escaped her. She wanted to rip it off the rack and tear it apart.

"Zora?"

She jumped at the concerned voice, so caught up in the storm of her emotions that she hadn't felt Jacob approach her. She let go of the dress and wiped the moisture from her cheeks, putting on her best fake smile as she turned to face him.

"Hey, what's up?"

He was frowning. "Have…have you been crying?"

"Me?" she said, shaking her head a bit too quickly. "No way. I…had something in my eyes."

He didn't believe her. She knew it before the words left her, and she could see it in his expression, in the disappearance of his frown and the softening of his eyes as he stared down at her. For some reason, it made her want to cry again.

Mouth quivering, she looked away from him. "Jacob, I-I don't—"

"It's okay," he interjected. "You don't have to talk about it."

"Thanks," she murmured.

"Sure, sure," he said. He plunged his hands into the pockets of his shorts, hesitating for a moment. "I just...I want you to know that they were wrong, by the way. You're amazing."

Her eyes met his then, her body flooding with warmth as she noticed the intensity of his gaze. Her heart thrummed to a nervous beat as he took all of her in—the faint hue of red brushed across her nose, the dried tears on her cheeks, her slightly parted lips—and a tender smile spread across his face.

In that moment, her sadness dissolved, and she was so overcome by the desire to close the distance between them, to press her body against his, to feel his arms around her, to touch him that she backed away. "We should…we should probably find Quil and Embry," she said, nearly whispering.

"Yeah," he murmured, nodding in agreement. "That's a good idea."

She felt him staring as she brushed past him, leading the way to the rowdy voices of their friends.

Her heart was still racing.


(Revised 4/14/2021)

AN: Hi, everyone! Sorry for the disappearance. Grad school has taken up a lot of my time. Plus, being glued to my laptop for academic purposes these last few months hasn't really sparked any inspiration. However, my classes are finally winding down (I have three days left, and then a two week break before summer classes begin), so I've been able to devote some time to getting this next chapter out. Also, like our dear Zora, I've been feeling self-conscious, but my self-doubt is about my writing. I'm my biggest critic, lol, so that has kind of taken a toll on my feelings of creativity.

Something else that has been weighing on me is the state of the world at the moment, specifically all of the events happening in the U.S. I'm Black, and it's been infuriating and exhausting and absolutely depressing to witness the police brutality and waking up to another news article about a Black man or woman or trans person being killed. The protests, both peaceful and violent, have given me some solace and hope, but there are so many police officers out there who still aren't being held accountable, who aren't being arrested and charged for taking someone's life because the color of their skin felt like a threat. Despite the national outrage, Black people are still being killed; they're still being lynched, and their murders are being overlooked, ruled as suicides, or justified.

So I've been tired. If any Black people are reading this, I hope y'all are taking care of yourselves mentally and emotionally. If you're a non-Black person reading this, please educate yourself and please speak up when you hear someone saying something racist, whether it's your family or friends. We all have a part in bringing about change.

xoxo