Leah Loses Her Head
Friday, March 11, 2005
Leah Clearwater hadn't worn a dress in months, if you didn't count her waitressing uniform or her Madonna costume. Actually, she hadn't worn anything but jeans and sweats, anything nice that made her feel pretty, in a long time. The effect was that she was giddy the whole day leading up to the event, and slightly overdressed by the end.
Now she sat in Rebecca's room, by the bureau, checking her lipstick for the tenth time.
"Relax, already!" Rebecca commanded, from the closet. She tossed a fifth skirt, into the rejected pile, once she remembered she'd worn that to work declaring it dowdy.
Leah obeyed, focusing on the radio, the R&B girls' group singing about men who screwed them over. That was an idea she could get behind.
They were heading to a party, on the edge of the rez, at some old warehouse that apparently housed "business deals" and was available to rent for events. Sometimes, if you knew a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy, you could have the kind of event no one would hear about, especially the elders, and especially your parents.
Leah and Rebecca were heading to a party celebrating the start of spring break. It's not like anybody was going on a cool vacation, so they had to make the most out of this. Anybody who was anybody would be there - the upperclassmen, the younger high schoolers if they could snag an invitation, any returning college students (if they condescended to do so), and the few Forks kids with friends over here.
Being noticed was the norm for her. She knew she was pretty enough and the lessons with Echo had made her muscled and graceful, too. She was confident in her looks overall, more so when wearing a gray minidress, but it was the inside that bothered her.
Here she was, still broken, angry, and whispered about. Still afraid to go to the store because of him. So clearly hurting if you looked her in the eye.
"At least Rae's not hogging the closet anymore," Leah joked halfheartedly. It had been months since Rachel left for university after graduating early and earning a huge scholarship. Unfortunately, the quiet girl seemed to take some of the life in the house with her.
Rebecca grimaced slightly. "Yeah, that was one of the upsides to her going away for college."
Leah racked her brain for the right response. Oh she had Rebecca, and Rachel, too, to a lesser extent, but she had pushed both so far away, she barely knew what was going on with them.
The doorbell rang.
"That's him!" Rebecca squeaked, rushing out the room. She came back when Leah called to her that she was naked, and threw on the black sequined top and blue miniskirt she'd started out with.
At the door was one of the handsomest guys that Leah ever had seen (outside of movies and her imagination). He was in great shape, with laughing brown eyes, tousled raven hair, and poreless, dark skin. And when he locked eyes on Rebecca, he smiled goofily, just as infatuated as he should be.
"Leah," her friend said, when they were all in the living room. "I want you to meet Solomon."
Rebecca's new boyfriend was twenty-one, but nice enough that Billy deemed him harmless despite his age. The couple had met in Seattle on New Year's Eve. He was from Hawaii but staying with cousins on a break from California surfing competitions, and he humbly admitted to being very good, when Rebecca insisted. Leah was embarrassed to be reminded that he'd been visiting for days and she'd been too preoccupied to meet him. Luckily he wasn't leaving the area until April, which gave her plenty of time to vet him. But judging by their smitten looks, her exuberant friend found the strong and silent surfer worthy of more than a spring fling.
As much as she didn't want to third wheel it with a couple, they both brought good vibes, and Solomon's thoughtfulness was a nice contrast to Rebecca's silliness. The three of them arrived earlier than they would have when they were younger, too old to put care into appearances.
In La Push, no one thought much of ambiance (unless it was a festival or parade). Otherwise, you just had to dim the lights, play music, and provide enough seating. Rebecca waved to some of her friends (in all objectivity, their friends, even though Leah felt more alone and loserly than ever). Solomon was introduced to all the proper people, and with Rebecca Black by your side, it was easy to feel accepted.
Leah rolled her eyes when a dim-witted girl placed a hand on the surfer's chest coquettishly. Yeah, that would work. She didn't want to have to stomp some bitch and besides, Rachel could handle this one.
She turned from the awkward moment, letting her eyes run across the top floor, the balcony that was half the length of the ground floor. Up there was where quieter conversation takes place, where you sat down to gather your dignity after puking. Two couples are making out, either not minding the attention or looking for it. On the stairs, two girls giggled loudly, obnoxious and fake. She was admiring the taller one's highlights when the girl turned, heading downstairs. Maggie Freeland, blabber-mouth. Brooke Grady, always by her side, followed dutifully, clinging to the rail for dear life. The price to pay for four-inch heels.
Leah's fight or flight instinct kicked in again, reminding her she was too close to the incoming carnivores. She parted with her friends and lost herself in the crowd.
More people were streaming in, helping her blend in. The music was louder, and more people were feeling less inhibited, heading for the unofficial dance floor.
Leah eyed a boy in the corner, drinking and leaning against the wall. He quickly averted his eyes, as if he'd been caught looking at her. He was tall with sandy brown hair and a bomber jacket. Unfamiliar. He'd do.
She sauntered over to him. "Dance with me?" she asked, not waiting for the reply before leading him over to the dance floor.
The music was some hip-hop song she couldn't place, but it took very little to look like she was having a good time. Her partner wasn't clumsy, or worse, handsy, like some guys were, no matter the occasion or level of acquaintance.
"What's your name?" he asked, as the music quieted during the bridge.
"Mia," she lied, without really knowing why. "You?"
"Kirk," he replied.
She coughed to hide her laugh. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"No, I came with friends. You know, uh, Jimmy Bankridge?"
Were she anywhere else, at the beach, the seafood restaurant, school, she'd be in the mood to say, "Maybe I'll meet the real him when he comes back from his next drug trip."
But she was 'Mia', a cool hot girl at a lame party, and that was relaxing. She nodded.
"Hey, you want to grab a drink and talk upstairs?" he asked. He was slightly nervous, which made him cuter.
"Sure." She let him lead her around by the hand, ducking her head when she thought she saw Brooke, Maggie, or anyone that she definitely did not want to speak to.
Upstairs, they turned the corner to the other side, where there were less seats, but provided better privacy. Leah sat down on a worn leather couch, relieved to be off her feet. She couldn't fit any of her older cute shoes anymore, but the new sandals she wore should have been broken in before tonight.
Beside her, Kirk pulled something out of his pocket, a cigarette and lighter. Lighting it up and taking a deep breath, he then offered it to her. "You want?"
"Uh, I don't smoke. Lung cancer and all." That's where she drew the line. Her mom had whooped her once for it, but ever since her dad's heart attack, things like that disturbed her. Health seemed more important than ever, and that included her own.
"Relax, it's a joint," he laughed, holding it up for her inspection.
"Hard pass," she snapped. Ugh, no wonder he was friends with Jimmy.
He held up his hands in defeat. "Ok, no pressure."
She had created an awkward tension in the air that was hard to diffuse. When did she become such a tight-ass goody-goody? Stupid. Or why couldn't he have just kissed her? Stupid, stupid men.
Kirk began to ramble on, the commonplace introductory questions. He didn't enjoy running, dancing, or trips to the city. She found out he liked swimming, video games and playing his bass guitar. She was just figuring out a way to get out of attending his band's upcoming gig when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Leah?"
Her eyes traveled up the searing hot hand, to the muscled arm, to the handsome, disapproving though adoring, concerned yet irritated, angry but gentle face of Sam Uley. So different, so the same. No longer thoughtful and sweet, but hot-tempered and impulsive. Power and strength concealing the rough, worn-down interior.
It was all these little complexities that stunned Leah into silence, so that she watched him in wonder.
"We don't do that here." Sam's hand was gone and his gaze was on scrawny Kirk, who looked so inferior next to him.
"What?" Kirk said, looking irritated.
"We don't smoke weed in this building. Please take it outside."
"Listen, bodybuilder, we're not bothering anyone. We're going soon."
Leah rolled her eyes. She never agreed to that. Sam glanced at her, then shook his head, his short hair stiff and unmoving.
"Man, look. If anyone gets in trouble with the police, it'll be us, while you'll get to go back to Forks in one piece. Please."
At this, two more people appeared behind him. A couple of boys nearly as ripped as Sam himself, though the scowling one was about average height. They all formed a wall of intimidating muscle, so formidable that Kirk sulked away, unable to meet Leah's eye.
"You okay?" Sam asked, reaching for her.
"No, some douchebag is bothering me." Leah glared at him, rising to her feet. "And his lackeys."
She recognized the tall lackey - Jared Cameron. He shrugged. "That guy looked like bad news. You should thank us."
"And we're not lackeys," the other snapped, which only confirmed her observations.
"Backup dancers, then," she said.
"Paul? Why did you come here?" Sam panicked, looking hilariously freaked. "Who's with Em?"
"Bathroom. What, am I supposed to follow her in there, too?" Paul snarked.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me…" Leah groaned, her face in her hands.
And the worst woman in the world, the bitch of all bitches, made her appearance. "I'm right here," she said, her voice breathless.
Leah allowed herself a single look at her ex-best friend. Vengefully, she wished she had never known her, that she was a stranger, so Leah just might be able to triumph in the scar on her face. But in the dim light, the ugly scar looked even more terrifying. It made her hate Sam more, and her heart grieved for Emily, which made her in turn, also despise her more.
Unwillingly, she felt that pulling sensation, of reaching from nature, of building energy. Her body felt heavy, so tired, not strong like the first time. Her eyelids drooped a bit.
Sam was speaking. "Jared, come on, let's go get Rebecca. She should go home."
Of course the jerk knew who she came with. Always in her business.
"Me and Emily will stay here," Paul offered.
He was probably just lazy as hell, since, when Sam and Jared headed downstairs, he collapsed on a sofa and seemed to actually fall asleep, as loud as it was in the building.
Emily gingerly sat down, too. Her long hair and bangs obscuring her expression as she rested her head in her hands. She was dressed the simplest of all the girls, in skinny jeans and a faded black tank top. Leah stood next to her, staring at Paul and pretending to listen to the music.
"A good turnout, tonight," Emily commented, her light, lilting voice barely audible.
Leah refused to look at her.
"Reminds a lot of the summer before high school. With the twins," Emily continued.
Leah grunted like a cavegirl.
"You look really nice, Leah."
"I know." She squeezed her fists against her legs, willing the light building in her hands to vanish.
"You don't have to leave if you don't want to. Sam was just looking out for you. I could tell him not -"
"You can tell Sam," Leah hissed, spinning to her. She leaned down, her fist pressing the armrest. "You can tell Sam, that I'd rather throw myself down the stairs than get help from a rotten piece of trash like him or you."
Emily blinked rapidly. "I thought we were family."
"I did, too," Leah said. "But now, it's clear, I never knew you. And I don't want to."
Emily grabbed her purse and practically ran downstairs.
Leah pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, holding back her own tears. Not the time, not the place.
Deep, rumbling laughter shook her out of it. Paul was sitting up, his grin wide and toothy. Had he even been sleeping?
"What the hell is so funny?" Leah snapped.
"You," he shrugged.
"My embarrassment isn't exactly quality entertainment for me, shortie."
His eyes flashed, but just as quickly he was snickering again, shaking his head. Crossing to her side, he explained, "Sam always said you were in a...delicate position. That we should be gentle with you, since your heartache made you all fragile. But you're at the top of your game."
"For yelling at Emily?"
"Man, you destroyed her. That was hilarious."
"You don't think that was bitchy of me?" she asked, disbelieving.
"Chill, Sam won't be too mad. At you. He'll be pissed at me for not stepping in. But that girl needed to be knocked down a few pegs. Emily's got good intentions and she loves him, I guess, but she's a total kiss-ass. Makes me nauseous."
Leah frowned. "Why does Emily kiss up to you?"
"Ah, you know, wanting your boyfriend's friends to like you, that kinda thing."
Leah didn't reply, sitting down next to him. Instead, she was thinking of how Sam never hung with Jared Cameron or Paul Lahote before, who were both several years behind him in school. Now that he'd graduated, he was best buds with two freshmen?
Her instincts (and the evidence) told her that the same change Sam went through, so did these guys. That's what united them.
So who was next? Her classmates? Half the Quileute Tribal School? Her brother?
"Well I'm glad someone around here doesn't think the sun shines out of her ass," she said, dismissing that line of thinking.
Paul yawned and stretched. He smelled like sweat and outside. "She's a good girl, but there are more important things."
"Like what?" she asked, a small part of her willing to be flattered.
"Being clever," he said, leaning in closer.
She snorted.
"Or tough," he intoned. "Or sexy…" he encircled an arm around her waist, leaning closer.
Until Leah jumped up and punched him in the face.
Or tried to.
Paul was faster, so much faster. His forearm shot up to block her fist, and a crack rang out, with the briefest flash of light at the connection. Paul yelped, gripping his arm.
"Ow!" he yelled, causing people to turn and peer around the corner. He glared up at her, shocked and pained. "You crazy bitch!"
"Horny little creep!" Leah growled.
Jared appeared out of thin air. "Oh my -" He tried his best to hide his laugh, and all but shoved Paul out the exit door towards the outdoor staircase. "Let's go, man."
Paul had gotten the pain, but she'd received the humiliation. Shaking out her hand, Leah turned for the other side, shoving past partiers, who leaped out of her way. But at the top of the stairwell she met with the very person she wished to avoid.
Sam, now so very big and imposing, blocked her path. "Leah, let me see your hand."
"So Paul really does scream like a little girl," she deadpanned, trying to step to the side, yet he held out his arm.
"You can't go around hitting people and making scenes like this."
"And I'll make another one."
"I just want to talk to you," he pleaded. And for a second, his stern face gave way to wide brown eyes, making him look as young as he was two years ago. Sad, confused, and kind.
It made her want to throw things. "You don't get to talk to me!" she yelled, pushing past him. Others paused their conversations, turned to stare.
Sam grabbed her arm gently, trying to shush her.
"No! Let go of me!" she shouted. The dim lights, the insistent bass of the music, the heat of his skin, all made her feel drunk, unsteady. "You left me! You left me."
Behind her, someone, some girl, gave a whoop of appreciation, encouragement which spurred her on.
"I'm not your concern," she declared.
"Yes, you are. You need to stay out of trouble. Do you - look, can we do this in private?"
"No, you parade in here with your princess, order me around like you're my boss. Like you didn't dump me to get her. Are you even sorry?"
"I am sorry you're hurt," he murmured, holding her by the shoulders. This version of Sam barely attempted comforting her.
"Don't lie," she rasped, twisting away from him, feeling tears gather behind her eyes. "You're always lying. You're always keeping secrets. Why can't you ever tell the truth?"
"What?"
"Last year, I knew everything but I didn't push you. I gave you -"
"You don't know anything." Sam let go of her, stepping away. He seemed to grow, grow, grow, to seven, eight, nine feet tall. "Go home, Leah," he ordered, the weight of his words crushing down on her, cold and steel.
Leah felt a hand on her arm. It was Rebecca, her eyes narrowed in concern, looking as stiff and serious as her twin sister. "Let's go, bruiser," she whispered.
Leah let herself be whisked away, passing worried peers, smirking neighbors, amused strangers. It took all of her strength to keep her head up, looking straight forward.
Outside, the girls waited on the porch for Solomon to pull up with the car, where it was now raining in torrents, threatening to flood.
For once, Rebecca was silent, staring straight ahead, not even messing with her cell phone.
Leah nudged her shoulder. "You mad at me?"
"I'm not mad," Rebecca enunciated. The vein popping on her forehead told a different story. And her voice was doing that weird thing, getting all fast and quiet. "I'm confused and upset."
"What?"
"You rarely talk to me anymore. And when I think things are getting back to normal, you run off with strangers and get in fights."
Leah tried not to wince at the sharp tone overtaking her friend's speech. It wasn't fair, when Rebecca was the one aching of loneliness, trying to run a household, and missing her twin sister.
"I'm sorry, Becca, I don't know what came over me."
"There comes a certain point, Leah," Rebecca stressed, "where you have to toughen up and have a little respect for yourself. You can't keep letting Sam win. Okay?"
Leah stepped back, surprised. "...Okay."
Rebecca crossed her arms, resuming her staring contest with the rain.
Leah leaned her head against the brick, startling when a howl ripped through the woods. Some poor animal in distress. That made two of them.
After practically running from the car, Leah disappeared into the darkness of her house. She took off her heels and jacket by the door and nearly trampled Seth in the process.
"Ah!" her brother gasped. "You made me spill my milk!"
"Milk? What are you five?" she chuckled.
He held a finger in front of his lips. "Quiet. You'll wake Dad. He's in the living room."
"What are you guys doing up so late?"
"Late? It's only ten."
"Leah? Is that you?" a voice called from the adjoining room.
Leah entered the dim front room, where her father was sitting in his beat-up armchair. On the television screen, a Star Wars movie was paused.
"Hey, kid," Harry said, rubbing his eyes. "I didn't know you were out."
Leah pretended to cough so she didn't roll her eyes so hard they'd get stuck in the back of her head. She sunk into the chair across from him. "I was at the Blacks."
If her father suspected anything, he didn't voice it. "You have fun?"
"Mmhm. What is this crap, Seth?"
"The Empire Strikes Back? Remember it?"
"Nope."
"Yes you do. We watched it last summer. You were there."
"Never heard of this in my life."
"'No, I am your father'?" he imitated in a deep voice.
She gave an exaggerated shrug, snatching a cookie off of his plate.
Seth punched her arm. "Ugh!"
"Leah, don't tease your brother," Harry intervened. "So, who all was over there?"
"Becca, that was it."
"Were you all, uh, playing dress-up?" he said, gesturing to her get-up.
"No," she said, icily. "It was warm today."
Seth elbowed her in the ribs.
"I'm glad you're getting out," Harry commented. "It's good to be with friends, when you're going through things. You seem better."
"I guess."
Harry sighed. "Leah, you know, you can talk to me or your mother. It's hard to see you so down again."
That was it. If he wanted a conversation, he was going to get one. "I'm sorry I'm not healing fast enough for you. Sorry I can't get over it, Dad," she ranted. "Great advice by the way."
Harry frowned, slowly getting to his feet. "I'm sorry, kiddo. About all of that." He ruffled Seth's hair. "Finish the movie without me, son. I'm too old to stay up this late."
"Dad, don't go!" Seth whined.
"Nope, early shift tomorrow. See you then, Leah?"
"I'll be in the car," she agreed, eyes downcast.
Their father shuffled out of the room.
Seth poked her in the arm. "You are so, so mean!"
She poked him harder. "Knock it off, twerp."
"Dad is way easy on you, no matter what you do. Can't you forgive him?"
Leah cut her eyes at him. Barely thirteen with expensive-ass braces he was itching to get off. He didn't know shit. She rolled her eyes. "You're too young to get it, Seth."
"I'm old enough to not be petty. I hate Sam as much as you do for what he did. But Dad didn't mean to hurt your feelings. He's afraid for you. He just wanted you to be okay again."
Leah nearly giggled at her sage old baby brother giving her advice. "Ugh, you are annoying," she said, but didn't disagree, which meant she'd listen.
Seth didn't keep pushing. And he offered her the last cookie. The dork was good at the core.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
"We've got an invitation," Leah called, toying with the translucent silver card, thinner than lined paper, yet incredibly sturdy.
She stretched across her hammock - yes, hers, none of the Cullens even sat in it - and waited for Edward to come out the house. He'd been at the piano all morning, probably delaying today's sparring lessons. Wuss.
Edward came out to the porch, pulling an identical one from his back pocket. He leaned against the house and read aloud. "To Edward Anthony Masen Cullen. You are cordially invited to Princess Echo's engagement party.' Huh. That's odd."
"I'll say!"
"How did they get my full name? Did you tell them?"
"Get over yourself! What's weird is that Echo never told us about getting engaged!"
Edward nodded thoughtfully. "She did seem withdrawn last time. Maybe she was tired from all the arrangements."
"She never mentioned anybody. The only person she talks about is her grandmother."
"She's very private. It's not for us to speculate," Edward interjected.
"She is sort of uptight," Leah continued. "And a know-it-all. She sounds like your type. Are you her fiance?"
"Very funny. I'm certain she's marrying the major."
"Major Berry!" Leah exclaimed. But as the idea settled it made sense. They'd grown up together, trained at the same academy. Echo sometimes spoke affectionately of him. He was handsome, accomplished, and kind. The fairy nobility surely cared about those things. But hadn't he been the target of disrespect and derision, at least when he was young?
"That shouldn't matter," Edward declared. "He's a good man, a bit silly, but sincere and noble."
"I know that. But does the princess? Won't it get to her what people say - that he's too common, that he's an outsider?"
"She's the heiress to the throne, she has enough clout and money for the both of them."
"Her family might feel differently. She has an obligation to them."
"She has an equal obligation to choose the right person for herself."
Leah hummed in assent, busying herself with folding the invitation.
"Of course, we are speculating about private affairs," he dismissed.
She rolled her eyes, at her imagination and his caution. "Didn't know you were such a romantic, Red." She dodged the pillow he threw at her. "The others are probably ready. I'm going to go check on them."
Leah shook her hair out of her eyes. It was already thick, and now that she was overdue for a haircut, too heavy. It wouldn't be long before her mother started chasing her around the house with scissors. Maybe she'd give in this time.
Alice squatted down beside her. "Are you going to get up now?"
"Now? Session's over! I'm hungry!"
The vampire girl quirked her lips. "You ate before we left. I know you don't need to eat that often."
Leah groaned.
"And you've been lying in the dirt for so long I had to stop Edward from calling Carlisle."
"Ugh!" Leah pushed herself to her feet.
"Excellent." Emmett said, jogging up to her, practically wagging his imaginary tail. "You shattered that rock. With your bare fist! That was awesome!"
"Right up until the collapse," Alice agreed, smoothing her skort.
"Yeah, but it was funny."
Yes, in another light, it was funny, that after running several miles, doing fifty pushups (as opposed to Emmett's prescribed ten-thousand), and shadow boxing while the siblings held focus mittens, she'd finally groaned in frustration, punched the nearest object, and laid down in the grass.
"I'm taking a breather," Leah decided. "I'm the one who's been exercising for hours. You guys forget what it's like to be physically exhausted."
"But there's so much more left to do!" Emmett whined. "We didn't even have our fight!"
"And you won't ever have one," Edward said, walking over to them. He was holding a bulky brown doctor's bag, likely Carlisle's. At her look, he explained, "It'd be better to have Jasper supervise. We don't know this stuff like Echo does. At any rate, you should fight Alice. She's closer to your size. And Emmett fights dirty."
"Says you!" Emmett complained, plopping down to the ground. "And she's closer to my size than Alice's. She's almost as tall as Rose, probably just as strong, too."
"Rosalie doesn't like to fight," Alice pointed out.
A mischievous smirk crossed Emmett's face. "No, but she likes to-"
"Leah, let me look at your arm," Edward interposed, shuddering slightly.
Leah laughed. "My arm's fine, Red."
"Red!" Emmett and Alice screeched, looking at each other with the type of villainous glee only siblings can muster when finding such prime fodder for humiliation.
"Come on," Edward said. "We can end today early."
"She's fine, Red," Emmett called, cackling evilly.
Edward sighed. "I'll buy you dinner. My treat."
Leah pretended to think, tapping her chin. "On one hand, you're trying to trick me into a candlelit dinner, which makes me uncomfortable. On the other hand, free food is hard to pass up. Jury?"
Alice clapped her hands. "Is this a date?! I can give you a makeo -"
"Nope, your voting privileges are revoked," Leah stated. "Emmett."
"Yes, but order everything from the menu. Redward has way more money than any of us."
"That's because I don't purchase every gadget advertised in an infomercial," said Edward.
"Boo!"
"Deal accepted," Leah agreed. She leaned back on her hands to get up and flinched. Her arm really did hurt.
"He's wrong. Nothing's broken," Alice murmured, coming closer to inspect her. "Worrywart."
"Not like you, huh?" Leah chimed.
"No one's like me," Alice cooed, striking a supermodel pose.
Didn't she know it. Leah's mind flashed back to those words, 'Think like me.' Out loud she said, "And how do you think, Alice?"
"I told you."
"I still don't get it."
"You know how my power works. I can see the futures, but only of my own kind and full humans. Not people toeing the line like you. And I see best those of people I know. I am powerful, but I am not in control.
"I'm at peace, not because I live in two worlds, present and future, but because I am accepting of what I cannot change and willing to change what I can."
Leah's eyebrows knitted together. "I don't see how the hell that would help me."
She giggled. "Really, Leah, it's simple." She sighed dreamily. "Maybe one day I'll be able to trace your future again. Maybe."
After Edward's siblings said their goodbyes, Leah stretched her arm, marveling at the unbroken skin, free of bruises, only dirtied. "How'd you know?"
"I saw the way you hit that tree. Unfocused. And how you pushed yourself up afterwards. Leah, it's not truly your arm that hurts, it's the pain shooting down from -"
She yelped as he touched the spot.
"Your shoulder," he said.
"Great. No breaks, though?" The last thing she needed was her family getting suspicious.
"No breaks. Muscle strain. Though, you're going to need to rest these next couple of days."
He helped her gather her things. Water, towels, and the like. Echo was the one with the books to study and the fancy magical equipment.
The pair walked slowly back to the Cullen house, each quiet. Leah was careful to step over roots and fallen branches, holding onto Edward's arm for balance.
"Are you sure you don't want Carlisle to examine you?" he asked for the third time.
"Absolutely not. But thanks." She wasn't past the age of blushing; and her quickened pulse dismissed the idea of the doctor poking at her muscles in a totally unnecessary non-life-or-death examination. Jeez, if that ever happened, the awkwardness would kill her before the injury. "Topic change!"
"Then we can talk about your lessons. Music. The weather. The wedding -"
"What you're buying me for dinner -"
"Or whatever has you behaving strangely today. More than usual."
"I'm not being strange!" she shrieked. "I'm being...introspective."
"And tell me the subject of today's ruminations."
"The wedding," she finally admitted, with a bright smile.
He nodded at her to continue.
"I'm happy for Echo. She'll make a beautiful bride, have a beautiful family, and throw a beautiful party. Everyone will be excited for her. She'll literally rule over a fairy tale kingdom."
"You didn't seem to think so this morning…" He shook his head. "Are you upset because she has the life you always wanted?"
"A little. Not in the way you would think - not the money, the glamour. But the love, the family, and the peace." Her grip tightened on his arm. "It's just becoming very clear that the life I wanted is no longer possible."
Edward's hand caught hers in a light hold. "Oh, Leah, I'm sorry."
She exhaled. Focus on the trees, the grass, the sunset over us, she thought. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.
"I used to think," she started again, calmer. "Until recently, I hoped we still had a shot. That one day, Sam would realize how badly he messed up and come back to me. We'd work things out. But when I saw them together, in person for the first time, it hit me how far apart we are. We're on different planets. He and Emily - that doesn't make much sense to me. But him and me, along with vampires, fairies, and werewolves. That doesn't make sense at all. I guess I need to accept that he's not mine and he never could be."
"He never should be," Edward whispered fiercely. He took deep breath, listening to her mind, reliving her memories, good and bad, trite and beneficial. The party, Kirk and the weed, a fun thirty minutes of being Mia, Paul sweaty and snoring, Rebecca under Solomon's arm. Brooke and Maggies' stumbling stripper heels, Emily's wringing hands, cursing out Sam, shoving Sam, gazing at Sam, being held by Sam, being sent away by Sam.
"Leah, all is not lost," Edward murmured, a dull pain in his eyes. "You were overwhelmed and cornered in that situation. The next time you encounter him it will be easier. Eventually, you may be able to see it as for the best."
"For the best?" she gasped, recoiling.
"You'll get older, you'll move on. You'll fall in love again, with a better person."
"Ed, have you had a serious relationship before?" she sneered. She could guess the answer, but her anger made her cruel.
He faltered, for a sliver of a moment. "Think sensibly: you were both young. The bond you formed was strong, but how could you have known it would last forever?"
"How could you know it wouldn't?" she demanded.
He was silent.
"Love is not something you can't just turn on or off with a button. And I know that it's real, because it still hurts."
His lips twisted into a grimace, then relaxed. "I'm not saying you shouldn't care about him, but to carry any sort of regret over him, after what he's done to you?"
"After what he's done to me? You're the reason he's like this."
"I may have made him a wolf, but he became a scoundrel all on his own. He chose to hurt you, not me. I don't know why you can't see that."
She huffed, crossing her arms until the pain in her shoulder started up. "Fine. But love isn't sensical like that. Your heart doesn't care about the 'cons'."
"Remind yourself that he's young and dangerous."
"He was a boy!" Leah scoffed. "Basically, he still is!"
"Think of the threat he poses to you. He's an animal."
"Then so are you!"
Both of them stared at each other, twin faces of irritation, with hurt just rising to the surface.
She couldn't stop herself. "You, at a hundred years of being a vampire could barely control your bloodlust until it was literally taken from you. You have an actual craving for human blood that you actively have to work to resist. If I cut my hand right now, what would you have me do?"
He stared back at her in stony silence.
"Exactly," she said. "Exactly. You'd have to leave me. Never doubt that I am safe with my people, especially the werewolves. They're here for the sole purpose to protect humans. That's the antithesis of a vampire."
She spun on her heel and stormed back to the house.
Edward sighed and then jogged after her. "You're right. I admit it."
She could tell how much those words cost him, so she stopped.
"You're not one hundred percent safe with me, or with any of us, except maybe Carlisle. Logically, I know that I'm letting my feelings override reason. It's complicated."
Leah nodded. "Go on."
He fidgeted with his sleeve. "It's hard to see a species just as formidable as we are and not feel immediate distrust towards them. We have dangerous instincts, so I think we project those onto the shapeshifters, to a point. Then, there's how I feel about Sam Uley, as a man. I detest his treatment of you. And when I think of how most Quileute people must - no, do - hate us, I wonder how much of it is justified and fair? Especially since that confrontation with your elders."
"Wow." Leah smirked.
He shook his head. "Oh, be quiet."
They were quiet for a long moment. The last bit of sunset was still visible, casting the forest in a warm glow. All they heard was the light crunch of their feet on leaves.
"I really am sorry he broke your heart," Edward said. "I thought I understood, but I suppose I didn't."
She shook her head. "How could you know?'
He eyed the ground. "I guess I've never understood what people meant about love. They say it's this all-encompassing, music-playing feeling. I hear how they obsess over one person on repeat. But it seems like an exaggeration, a want of excitement."
"You'll know when it happens for you, Ed." She coughed a little. "I mean, if you want it to."
His voice was sure. "I do. If the curiosity doesn't get to me, then the loneliness will. I only wish people didn't act as if I should dedicate my life to hunting for a mate."
She laughed at the image in her head, of Edward trilling out bird calls in a tree and some vampire girl appearing. "Is there pressure?"
"They don't realize they're doing it," he explained. "But every time one of them thinks 'Poor, Edward' or 'Alone again', it makes me feel less than. Like I need someone, anyone by my side. I don't love being alone, but I don't think I need to be in a relationship. Despite what Emmett would like me to believe, romance won't be the peak of my happiness."
She'd known he'd never fallen in love, not that he'd been single his whole life. Then again, did vampires go on dates? Besides hunting for blood? "What's got them so worked up? Wasn't Carlisle single for way longer before he met Esme?"
"Maybe it's because he wasn't in a coven, there was no one to bother him. They're also comparing me with Alice and Jasper, and especially Rosalie and Emmett. They found each other so soon." He smiled ironically. "Of course the last reason is more troubling. Esme fears I was changed too young, that I never properly developed those...hormones."
Leah let his words sink in, reviewing his word choice. "So, you've never…"
He gave her self-deprecating grin. "No, never. A few, like our friend Tanya, have been interested, but there was never any appeal to me. If it happens, I'd like to be in love with the person. If it doesn't, I doubt I'd care. I suppose I won't know until I experience it."
"Huh." And then, as if suddenly realizing the weight of the conversation, her face heated up. She scratched her face to avoid looking at him. "Great self-control."
He rolled his eyes, half-amused. "Your admiration is everything, Leah," he sneered, pasting on a faux-simpering smile.
"Oh, shut up," she laughed. How was she supposed to react to him revealing himself to be a virgin? It must be nice, she thought, to not worry about people thinking you were a freak for not caring about it.
They continued in happier spirits to the house, relieved to lighten the mood. As they reached the walkway, she spoke up. "Hey, Ed. I'm sorry I was harsh on you."
"Don't be. I wasn't very empathetic. But I want to understand you. I like that you're honest about how you feel."
She smiled a little. "That doesn't mean I should blow up at you. That's not who I am or I wanna be." She shook her head. "I didn't mean it - that you're not safe."
"I know that." But his voice was too hollow for her to believe him.
"If I wasn't comfortable around you, I wouldn't be alone with you. You wouldn't be my best friend."
"I'm your best friend?" he asked, his smooth voice lilting. So innocent and surprised, his eyes shining with mirth.
"Yup, I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel, these days," she confirmed, linking their arms.
With a vow to cash in on her promised meal ASAP, Leah waved hello to his family then turned to her car in the garage. She was opening the door when she heard her name. Edward stood on the steps. ""Did you mean what you said?" he asked. "About love not having an off button?"
"Sure," she said. Though it probably wasn't like that to everyone. She wished it wasn't for her.
"Suppose you don't shut it off. Suppose you try, day by day, not to forget, but you accept it. And suppose you have friends to count on, even a best friend you tease mercilessly, and they're always awake and available to talk. Suppose it doesn't disappear all at once, but fades without too much effort."
Leah's heart swelled.
"Suppose," Edward intoned, his face grave. "Suppose love has a dimmer switch."
"You…" The words dissolved into laughter. She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You corny, corny jerk. How dare you!"
That's how they parted. She, cackling, so hard the pain in her lungs outdid the pain in her heart, and he, still stunned to be the producer of such bewitching joy.