Chapter 2
Seth doesn't ask why I'm leaving. He doesn't even ask where I'm going. He just looks at me and he knows that I'm not going to Carys', and then he gives me a little smile and grabs my bag from the couch, leaving me to trail after him.
"You're not driving," I say when he throws my bag into the back and hops in the driver's seat. "You're too young." But it doesn't stop me from getting in the other side, buckling up and waiting for him to do the same. "If you crash..."
"I won't." He flashes me a grin. "Got the same reflexes, remember?"
Dad taught us both to drive pretty early. Wanted us to have the independence of knowing, even if we'd have to ask permission every time we needed the car. The first time he took Seth, he spent a week boasting to anyone who would listen: Kid's got the same reflexes as his sister.
"How could I forget?" Casting the house a glance, I turn back to Seth and sigh. "Not sure how Charlie's gonna take you driving around in-"
"Charlie's not gonna notice. He's too busy trying to shack up-" He catches himself mid-sentence and huffs a breath, eyeing me from the corner of his eye as he pulls out onto the road. "That wasn't nice, was it?"
"Not really," I say gently. "But it was understandable."
"Not really," he counters. His attention turns to the drive ahead. "But it was truthful."
"I'm just glad to know you're not always such a sweetie-pie," I say affectionately, mocking the title so many people give him. I pinch his cheek and tug, and he whines, pulling away, batting at my hand until I let him go. "You're blushing," I tease.
He rubs at his cheek - at the redness of his embarrassment and the small mark where I squeezed too hard.
"Sorry," I say, pointing at it.
He checks it in the mirror and shrugs. "It'll heal." He sucks in a breath. "So, Leah Clearwater... Running away? Thought you were staying here to protect me?" His turn at teasing falls a little short with the undercurrent of worry.
Before all this, we were as close as two siblings could be. He forced that on me when I wanted to pull away, kept holding on tight until I gave in and accepted there was one person in my life who refused to care how angry or vicious I could be: he wasn't going anywhere. Maybe I have to remind him of the same.
"I'm always gonna protect you."
He doesn't respond to that. "How long're you going for?"
"Who said I'm going anywhere?" I ask. He gives me a look and I quickly give in. "Take me to Forks Airport."
"I thought only municipal stuff went out of there these days?"
"And private planes."
Seth nods and carries on, navigating La Push with ease. He doesn't ask about how or why I'd be getting on a private plane; he has answers to his unspoken questions now: wherever I'm going, I'm being bankrolled by Carys. We pass onto the road to Forks and he speeds up, dropping one hand into his lap.
"Two hands on the wheel," I scold.
Seth's lips quirk but he does nothing to correct his technique. "I asked a question, Lee. You still haven't answered." His eyes remain on the road as trees pass in a constant stream beside him.
"I don't know the answer," I say honestly.
"Where are you going?"
"I can't tell you."
"Because you think I'm going to tell the others the moment I leave you?" He sounds hurt by this.
"No," I say - again, honestly. He shifts in his seat, the side of his face hardening just a little, until he looks almost as if he's holding back a prideful smile. "I trust you to keep your mind in check, I just can't be sure Sam won't Alpha order you to tell him."
"He can try," Seth says, checking the wing mirror. "Won't get very far."
"Yes he will, you know he will." I pause, just long enough for Seth's jaw to clench.
Of all the wolves, I think he'd make the best Alpha given the chance, and I've told them this. The silence that came after was telling. Age and fate were not on his side (they weren't really on any of our sides). If he'd shifted first, I genuinely don't think it'd be the same Pack.
"Can I come?" For the first time in half an hour he sounds his age. He sounds like the Seth everyone else knows. "I wouldn't get in the way."
"No Seth..."
"I could just hang out with Carlisle or something! I know he's old, but he's a really cool-"
"You can't come, Seth."
He flashes me a hurt look. "No worries... So I was thinking about the question-"
"Seth-"
"Carys asked me back before she got injured. Tell her-"
"Seth, would you-"
"A wolf-sized penguin."
I scoff out a laugh. "What?"
"She'll get it," he says breezily. If I didn't know him so well, I wouldn't know he was still hurt.
"Seth, I don't know what's so urgent that Carys wants me to go see her, that's why I'm not taking you with me. It's not because I don't want you there or Carys or Carlisle wouldn't want you there either."
He hesitates and when he speaks his voice is small. "You think?"
"I know." I don't know, really. I don't know but I think and sometimes think is better than know.
"You'll be safe though?"
"I promise I'll try to be. Can't be sure what I'll be walking into."
Seth stays quiet, humming thoughtfully. He steers us past Forks, bearing left and around the small city, taking the route towards Seattle. The route towards the airport. When he drops me off, he hops out the car and rounds the hood to wrap me up in one of his bone crushing hugs. He's getting too tall, too strong. Soon it'll be hard to tell he's only a kid... I worry about things like that.
Into my ear, he says, "You'll call me?"
I tighten my hold on him. "I'll call you as soon as I land," I promise. "Then I'll call or text you every night to make sure you're not getting yourself mixed up in things you shouldn't."
Chuckling, he pulls away and then ducks down for another hug before he releases me. "Don't know why I'm upset," he grumbles, shuffling his feet and swinging his arms. "Guess I'll miss you until you phase. You reckon you'll be in range?"
"I reckon so," I say slowly. "I'll warn you if I can, so we can have a chat."
We stand there talking for a while because I know he's still worried. When I grab my bag and head off, he leans against the hood of the car and watches me until I'm out of sight. Every time I look back, he's there with a wave or a shout because he's remembered Mom needs a cover story and he'll sort it for me.
Now I know what you're thinking, because I'm thinking the same: how and why am I dropping everything to hop on a plane to go to Brazil? (Because yes, I do know the general area. I admit I lied about that one, but Seth knows as well as I do that they're honeymooning down there, so he must kind of know too.) Anyway. The answer is as simple as it is sort of tragic in a way. I'm going because:
1. I don't really have much to be dropping (not now, not with school being over and the Pack being safe and the lack of immediate threat to anyone).
2. I really, really, really needed to get out.
The plane is waiting for me on the tarmac. The steward and two pilots line up to greet me, giving me the information I thought you were supposed to hear through the tannoys, and then the pilots go back to the cockpit while the steward shows me the plush interior of the plane.
When I say plush, I'm talking 'How the other half lives' kinda plush, with sofas and armchairs and a fucking bed if I need it. I physically have to restrain myself from letting my jaw drop. I guess I don't want to let on that I'm not used to all this. If they looked at me like I was expecting them to (all shit-faced grins and up-down looks, all questioning and judgemental) it would be easier.
And, as an additionally weird thing (if you wanted it) not one of them has asked me for my passport.
"Is there anything I can get you before we take off?" the steward asks. He waits for a response, a polite smile plastered on his face until I shake my head. "I'll leave you then. We should be taking off in a couple of minutes and-"
I'll admit: this is where I zone out of the conversation. He keeps talking, pointing to things like my seatbelt, waiting for me to run through the appropriate actions: a nod there, a faint smile there, tightening my seatbelt, adjusting my position - that sort of thing. When he's done, I thank him and he heads off to get ready.
Takeoff is easy. Flying is easier.
I get drinks and food and the steward seems to understand that I want to be alone because he doesn't bother me unless he needs to or I call him to ask for something else.
Perfect.
It's twilight when we touch down in Rio de Janerio. I call Seth (who assures me he's not phased yet, that Mom has taken my absence in her stride - a lie, I'm sure - and that he's steering well clear of wolves until he knows I'm safe) and then I'm ushered straight through to a waiting car.
A/N: this should have stayed in the drafts. Tempted to delete already...
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