Another chapter! And this means that there are only 9 chapters left till I finish. Put that in a fraction and I have 6/15 of the story done. Reduce that and you have 2/5 :) ONLY 3/5 of the way to go! See? I'm smart :P Now, you all are wondering, why didn't Brady fight back? Is he that much of a turd? But, hey, not being wanted by an imprint is some pretty heavy stuff :( But I'm sure you guys will LOVE this chapter :D Review? Tell me what you think.
**PipTheOrphan**
Come close and then even closer
We bring it in but we go no further
We're separate
two ghosts in one mirror, no nearer
Fala's point of view-
I stabbed the peas in my TV dinner angrily, scowling as I grumbled to myself. It has only been 3 days, just 3 days and I haven't seen a lick of Brady. The kitchen was still a mess, well, I mean, the stove still needed to be replaced. They still had to refurnish most of the counters and cabinets, but so far the floor had been replaced with shiny new tiles – something I'm sure will have a hard time turning into flames. And for now the microwave is standing as a substitute for the oven, so…TV dinners it was until everything was in order again.
And that wasn't even the worst of it, because the kitchen is so burnt down and mauled to death, none of the pack ever comes here anymore since proper food can't be made. Sam's barely home. Emily just hangs around doing laundry, looking miserable with each passing second. And the house was so…quiet.
I felt like I was in hell. Who knew I'd miss the sound of overly obnoxious boys in the house? I didn't, that's for sure. And something that really irritated me? I got what I wanted. Brady won't be bothering me. Sam won't talk to me. The pack doesn't even look my way if I happen to run into them. Emily doesn't bother asking if I want to help her clean. And I'm finally alone. Oh, yeah, definitely alone. Yet, I couldn't help but think I deserved this. Why? Because I turned down a boy! No, not just any boy, my soul mate. Plus, it wasn't even my fault. It was ALL Sam's idea.
Brady and I were perfectly fine with being friends, but Sam had to shove his nosey ass into our business and fuck it up. Hah! Bet that'd put some sense into his so called pack. They were nothing but a bunch of immature pups with no sense of mind. You know what? I'm glad they're gone. Yeah, I'm glad. Ecstatic! Couldn't be happier.
"Is everything okay, Fala?" Emily asked, putting a hand on my should as I continued to stab the rubbery chicken in the plastic tray. I could only grunt, glaring at the blank TV before turning my glower onto the TV remote that was more than an arm reach away. And I, for one, didn't want to get up.
"Peachy," I hissed, chewing viciously on the wannabe chicken meat. It wasn't even meat. More like a truck tire…
"I think you're upset," Emily said wisely, sitting down next to me on the couch, "want to talk about it?" I shook my head angrily, swallowing thickly as the chicken was refusing to go down smoothly. Fucking cheap shit is what this is.
"It's all Sam's fault," I mumbled, gnawing on the plastic fork I held in my hand. Emily sighed, trying to rub the tension out of my shoulder as she clicked on the TV to some kind of romance movie. I choked on the fork as I witnessed the two lovers on the screen share a loving kiss, exchanging gag worthy 'I love you's'.
"Are you alright?" Emily asked, alarmed as she took the fork out of my hand and patted my back before rubbing soothing circles. I shrugged, looking away from the screen in all my bitterness. Yes, you heard me. Bitter. I am bitter. But who's fault is that? SAM FREAKING ULEY! That's who. Everything was fine until he had to put his snotty little opinion in. So what? We're friends. Whoopee damn doo. Does that mean he deserves a medal? How does he feel now, huh? I hope he's slowly dying inside. Knowing what he did.
"I hate Sam," I decided finally, pushing away the disgusting dinner meal across the coffee table. Emily frowned, still rubbing my back, pressing a little harder this time in an attempt to release the knots in my poor old muscles. It's not very good for a 18 year old to go through so much stress. And right now I felt like I was ready to pop a vein.
"You don't mean that; you're just upset."
"You want to know what? Why Brady and I won't talk? Because of Sam! He told me that if I won't get involved with Brady romantically – then…tough nubs. I can't see him anymore," Emily's hand stopped abruptly on my back before she pulled away as if I was on fire, her face shocked as she watched me sneer and mock the people playing through the television. I knew I was being over-dramatic. I was the one who went along, wasn't I? I was the one who wanted Brady far away. And now it happened…yeah…I should be happy! I should be dancing, singing, doing all that.
"But, you know what? I'm glad he did. Because I hate Brady," I insisted snootily, smiling mockingly at her shocked expression, "what has he ever done besides annoy me? Love him? Hah! He's not good enough to love," I stood up angrily, stomping my way up to my room as I heard Emily scramble around. Doing what? I don't know. Nor do I care, thank you very much.
"I could do better," I rambled on, talking to myself now as I slammed by bedroom door closed, tearing open my closet door and flinging my dresser drawers open, "I could have ANY guy I wanted. I could lose my virginity. I could make out with someone. Hell, I can get married!" I continued, taking out my push up, red lacy bra, fiery red thong, and a small black dress that I used to own when I was 15. I'm sure it'd still fit – maybe it'll be a bit tight, but tight is good. Real good.
"Brady isn't a man, he couldn't be any fun if he wanted to. He's a monster! A little kid stuck in some steroid, jacked up body. Someone who turns into a wolf and runs around half naked. Someone who's FORCED to like me, yeah. I could do way better. I could fuck Johnny Depp if I wanted to, rape a kitten maybe," I proceeded to grumble under my breath, making little to no sense the longer the rant continued. Moving about in my room I shimmied in the dress, nearly cutting off my circulation as I zipped up the back, satisfied with the way it clung to me. Moving about and angrily running a brush through my hair I slipped on my red pumps, glaring at every single table corner or dirty laundry that dared get in my way.
That's when a shy knock came from the other side of my door, sounding almost distant as the pattern of knocks continued restlessly.
"Who is it!" I called, dabbing on some gloss and smearing some eye liner on.
"Uh…it's…me," Sam's voice came from the other end before he cleared his throat awkwardly, "can I come in?"
"Do what you want," I persisted, capping my lip gloss and hiking the dress up a little higher up on my thigh, grinning proudly at my reflection. Damn, I looked good. The door opened just then, Sam, Embry, Jacob, and…Brady appearing in the doorway. And, almost simultaneously, their jaws dropped and eyes popped, taking in my appearance. I smiled back wickedly, winking.
"Lookin' sexy, right?" I teased, posing a little. Jacob and Sam recovered first, both of them blinking hard and frowning.
"What are you wearing?" Sam hissed, pointing at me in an upset manner. I snorted, rolling my eyes and sparing myself another glance in the mirror. Yep, still looking sexy.
"Something that will get me laid," I answered, making Sam nearly have a heart attack on the spot, his mouth opening and closing while Jacob and Embry whistled under their breaths. And Brady…I didn't dare look at him. I didn't want to. I didn't need to. He's dead to me.
Dead, dead, dead, dead.
"No, absolutely not," Sam growled, looking like he wanted to do something but couldn't. What was he going to do? Strip me down? Yeah, I'm sure his little pack of pups would LOVE to see my thong. They'd get an eyefull; that's for sure.
"I'm 18, legal to do whatever the hell I want…well, except drink. But, damnit, I'm getting some sex tonight!" I yelled, stomping my foot. Glaring at them like a bitch.
"Why?" Sam asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as Embry, and Jacob shifted uncomfortably behind him. Obviously they didn't expect me to be ready to go out, more like wallowing in self-pity. Yeah, right. ANd Brady - I still didn't look at him. Didn't awknowledge him. Brady's gone, remember? I'm happy! Like I could birth a whole rainbow within a blink of an eye. Maybe get married to a unicorn.
"I think I need to spice it up a bit. Start my life. Since you, ahem, I'm sorry, since I," I sneered, making Sam frown visibly, "decided that Brady wasn't the one for me, I'll find myself someone who isn't forced to like me. And Brady can do the same. So…" I waved my hand at the four of them, making them all scatter to the side as I walked through the door, "I'm leaving now."
Moving to go down the stairs Brady caught me by the forearm, not daring to turn me towards him, but enough to stop me so he could lean down close to my ear. His hot breath washing over the side of my face.
"Why?" He whispered.