The next two weeks flew by. After the slightly embarrassing way I acted last time Seth was over, I had found ways to keep myself busy when any of Tommy's other friends dropped in. Our wooden floors were spotless; a speck of dirt barley had time to settle on the floor before I attacked it. The cabinets in the kitchen had been painted, along with Ron and Tommy's rooms. The living area that drifted into the hall was primed and ready for the next time a friend dropped by.
I only realized how much time had passed when Thomas leaned into my doorway one Sunday afternoon, his face bright and anxious as always.
"So, I'm gonna go help Seth and Quil with the car they've been working on." He blinked down at me, his face twisted into what he thought was a brotherly smile.
I looked up from my position on the floor, where I had been tacking the trim back on where it had started to peel off.
"So?" He shoved his rough hands into his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet. I noted his pants were getting too short and made a mental note to find him some new ones. Soon.
"Tommy," I muttered, pulling one of my knees up to my chin and setting the hammer on the floor. "What are you implying?"
"That you come and help us." He shifted his eyes away quickly, but I could already see the pity that was buried just under the dark surface. "Come on, Aidyn! You haven't even met Quil yet, not really. Please? I'm sure they'd be cool with you being there."
"Alright." I muttered, standing up and folding my arms over my chest.
"You're coming?" He asked, seeming slightly surprised.
"No. I do want to know how much Dad payed you, though." I waited for an answer, cocking my hip to one side. Despite my stature leaning towards the smaller scale, I knew for someone who stood just under 5'3 and hardly topping 100 pounds, I could be intimidating when I wanted to. It helped a hammer was siting casually at my feet.
When he didn't look back at me, I knew I had my answer.
"He should have known I knew you better." I said, slapping him playfully on the arm.
Tommy shook his head, "You know what? You could come anyways. I'd even give the money back." He said, approaching the situation from a different angle.
"You wouldn't give a cent back unless he pried it from your cold, dead hands. And I know you'd rather jump off the side of a building than have me hang out with you and your little buddies." I bent back down, picking up the hammer.
"They aren't little."
"Be back before dark." I called as he walked out the door, huffing about how there was no need for me to be so damn touchy.
They were late. Both of them were very, very late.
Ron, of course, had called to tell me he was going to be at work for another few hours. This was normal, considering my dad had practically married his job- and my mother- just a few months out of college. Tommy, who had sworn on his life he would be back in time for supper, had still not shown.
I waited by the clock for hours, watching as six slowly became seven, transferred to eight, paused at nine for a good deal of time and was creeping its way towards ten. Every second became eternity to me.
"Thomas, you little bastard." I glanced at the wall clock again. "Where the hell are you?"
I paced the floor, twisting my hands behind my back. Even cleaning had lost the peaceful effect it had on me.
Eleven. Eleven-thirty.
"Thats it." I whispered, lacing up my sneakers and pulling the parka over my hooded sweatshirt. "I can't take this anymore."
My feet quickly lost all their feeling as I stamped across the frozen ground. Thankfully, the storms had laid off for a few days and there was no snow, just a frost the crunched dully. I was bent over, hands shoved in my pockets, looking down at my feet churning steadily on the field of grass.
As far as I could remember, Tommy had said something about a car and a boy named Quil. A boy who's address in the phone book put him directly behind the only convenient store left in La Push.
I reached the edge of the woods, not pausing to think about what sort of danger that could lurk in the forest of an Indian reservation. I was too busy being worried about the remaining members of my family to even consider my own safety.
I shuddered, not bothering to stop and consider any other options. Tonight was just too cold. No one was crazy enough to go out in this.
I was almost halfway through the shortcut, feeling relived, when a snap made me spin around, my heart rate accelerating in the same moment. Blood pulsed through my veins and my ears began to roar, demanding that I run. Escape! I screamed in my mind, my feet frozen where I stood.
As figure in the distance loomed closer, I stepped back, keeping my eyes focused on the creature, panic bubbling up and rendering me speechless. Whatever that is, my mind told me carefully, as if I didn't already know, It's going to rip you to shreds.
I opened my mouth, ready to scream, when I got control of my muscles again and pushed off the log I was standing on, flinging myself into a full sprint. I ran until I thought my heart would explode, the sick part of me reminding myself to lay off the cigarettes if I lived through this.
I slowed, the sickening feeling of someone following me was gone, now. Perhaps I had imagined the entire thing. I kicked some dirt off my shoe, trying to calm the feeling of adrenaline that set my veins on fire.
"Who are you?" A strong male voice demanded, causing me to fall backwards in shock.
"Who am I? Who the hell are you?!" I was trying to scream back, but only a few squeaks emitted.
"Paul." The giant man bent down, one hand extended. With a shock I thought he wanted to shake hands with me sitting in a pile of dirt, but instead he gripped my upper arm, practically dragging me to my feet. His voice was hard and angry as he addressed me. "What do you think you're doing out in the woods at night? It isn't safe."
"Well, apparently so." I squeaked, trying to yank my arm out of his grip. It was a lost cause. I may as well let him have it.
"Are you from around here?" He peered down at me, trying to decipher my face in the darkness.
"I'm Ron Williams oldest kid." I shook the hood off my head as he looked me over, a sudden grin on his face.
"Tom's sister?" He asked, the same look I had seen two weeks ago on Seth's face now adorned his face, which looked much more like a mans.
"I got worried when he didn't come home." I gritted through my teeth. I was going to kill Tommy. Who called him 'Tom', anyways?
"You shouldn't worry about Tom." He sorted as if that was the stupidest reason I could have for being in the woods past dusk. "He's with Quil."
"Yes, I know." I gave a violent tug on my arm and he let it go, causing me to stumble back in surprise. I stopped in shock when I realized he wasn't wearing anything but a pair of jeans. "Are you-" I began to ask when I was interrupted by him picking me up and slinging me over one of his bare shoulders.
"You're not allowed to be here." Paul said, quickening his pace to a jog. "Sam's orders." He whispered, but I couldn't be sure if thats what he said.
"What the hell is wrong with you? I can walk on my own!" I whisper-screamed, struggling against the firm grip he had across my legs. I felt like a sack of potatoes as my head and torso bounced against the rock slab that made up the muscles in his back. I swore quietly under my breath, trying desperately not to look down at his butt.
"Quil! Sam!" I felt humiliation spread across my face as Paul called for them. I couldn't imagine ever living this one down. "Tom! I seem to have found something that belongs to you."
AN: Oh, writers block. R&R (read and reveiw) while I get some R&R (rest and relaxation).