When I closed the front door of Grandma Becky's house the first thing I thought was, What the Hell just happened?
It was my second day in La Push and I already had met the love of my life supposedly. I was freaking fifteen years old and I already and a ball and chain as to what my future was.
I started dreaming about what it would be like living here in La Push, growing up with Seth. Eventually, we would have to become more than friends. I wasn't completely opposed to the idea. I mean, it definitely wouldn't be bad. Letting him kiss me again, touching him, having people outside his pack knowing that he was mine. I wanted him to be mine. Not just in the whole freaking werewolf "imprint" way, but him being my boyfriend, my "lover" as he even said he wanted to be.
But I couldn't. Seth and I were going to act as if some mystically creepy magic didn't bond us together. We were going to fall in love the normal way. By getting to know each other and slowly moving beyond friendship.
I wonder what our kids would look like…And that's when I knew I was thinking about him too much. I pushed away my dreamy Seth-filled thoughts and got to cleaning the house. The house wasn't bad, I just needed to tidy up a few things. Seth was coming over tomorrow.
Seth was coming over tomorrow. Seth was coming over tomorrow and I had no I idea what I was going to make, no idea what I was going to say, no idea what I was going to wear! Should I just wear my normal jeans and a tee? Or should I go for something a little less tomboy and a little more girly? Should I wear something flirty? Should I act flirty? God, when did I start caring what other people think of me? I didn't care what other people thought of me. Just Seth. I cared about Seth. Whether I would admit it or not.
I decided to not worry about it. I would just leave it all for tomorrow. I just stayed in my room reading until my grandmother came home.
She entered the house vibrantly yelling, "Honey, I'm hooommeee!" I loved my grandma. She was outgoing and loud. She could talk to anyone about anything and go on for hours. She was like the opposite of shy, little ole me. "Did you make any friends?" She grinned.
"Yea, a couple," I tried to be nonchalant, "One's coming over for dinner tomorrow."
"That's great! I'd love to meet her. Tell your little friend she can sleep over too!"
"He." Grandma seemed confused. "He. She is a he."
My grandmother seemed unfazed by this, waving her hand. "Well, then he's welcome to sleep over too. Just don't be too loud." She winked at the last part.
"Grandma! He's just a friend." I insisted.
"Of course he is, sweetie. It doesn't matter what kind of "friend" he is to me, sweetheart. So tell me, what grade is this boy in?"
"He's a sophomore," I said trying to avoid her gaze.
"Well, that's good. Not too much older. Is he cute?"
"Grandma!" I was not believing that my grandmother was asking me these things. Then again, it was my grandma. You never knew what to expect with her. "I'm going to bed." I turned to walk away before she could ask any more embarrassing questions.
"Oh, and tomorrow remember to be careful with your little "friend"!"
"Good night, Grandma!"