This story takes place post-Eclipse. Also, I changed Seth's age a little bit because I needed to: in this story, he phased when he was sixteen.
It's rated Teen for cussing, some violence, and scenes and discussion that may not be appropriate for younger audiences. It will stay Teen throughout the whole story, though, I promise.
Enjoy!
Prolouge - La Push
I don't think I'll always remember what happened the day I first met Seth Clearwater, but he will. He tells me now that it was one of the best days of his life, and I feel bad for forgetting the details. But it's okay, he says to me, since he doesn't expect me to remember. And he was just another teenage boy in another stupid town, so why should I?
I was standing outside of our brand new house in La Push, just next to the beach, holding a screaming infant and listening to my mother chat up the moving guy and my sister complain. She (my sister, that is, not my mom) was seventeen at the time and I was fifteen. You'd think that by this age, she would be more mature than myself. But she wasn't. In my opinion.
"And I'm in my senior year," she wailed for the billionth time, "and she knows that my best friends aren't here and that this is totally going to ruin my life! God, she's just so selfish!"
Honestly, I thought that the both of them were. After every dramatic breakup with every guy she'd dated for no more than a month, my mother, Ciara, claimed that she couldn't take it here anymore and we were off to whatever place she thought up first. I was sick of changing schools all the time, sick of making and keeping friends for a few weeks. But did she care? No, of course not.
My sister, Heather, was just about the stupidest, most stuck-up person I'd ever met. Her unspoken motto was Me, Me, Me, and God, was it annoying. She never gave a second's thought to anyone else. If I was feeling bad, she'd tell me to get over it, wimp. But if she was the one upset, on the other hand, she expected me to sit there and let her bitch on and on and on to me and drag me into a stupid catfight when I didn't listen. It was a given that we, as sisters, would have our sibling rivalry going on, but we really hated each other. Hated. In the movies they always made up in the end and became best friends, but it certainly wasn't the case here. Sometimes, I wanted to believe that things between us would actually be okay. But they never were. And they never would be.
It was like that with a lot of things in my life.
"Heather," I replied once she stopped for a second to take a breath, "just shut up already, okay? Deal with it."
She narrowed her eyes at me and flipped her cinnamon brown hair around. I knew this move; I'd seen it done a million times before. It was the thing she always did before launching into a full-out screamfest.
"Jesus, Willow," she said, voice building. "I was just trying to tell you---"
But I didn't want to hear it. I turned my back on her and walked away, determined to escape from the place I hated so much already. "Come back here!" Heather shrieked after me. "I'm talking to you! God! Where are you going, anyway?"
"To the moon," I replied sarcastically. I could hear her fuming behind me, but I was directing my attention to something else. It was to Ciara, who was smiling and blinking her long eyelashes, which were practically dripping mascara, at the moving guy. She'd be in his bed by 11:00 tonight, I was positive. And then we'd leave again.
The thought made me mad. Really mad.
The five-month-old baby in my arms was still wailing loud enough to drown out any sound around us. I looked down at him as I reached the beach and thought about my stupid mother. It was all because of another one-night stand that my little brother was here, and it was all because of her stupidity that I was the one playing as his mom. Responsibility was not a word in her vocabulary. I'd learned this ages ago.
The beach wasn't sparkling and beautiful like it was supposed to be. Instead, the waters were a hideous, smoky grey, the clouds atop of them dark violet and vicious. A roll of thunder bellowed over me, sounding like a dragon awoken from its sleep by some idiot stabbing it in the eye. La Push and Forks were supposed to be one of the rainiest places in the world. Or so I'd heard. I wasn't looking forward to these frequent thunderstorms, exactly.
The only other people on the beach were a group of really tall guys clustered around the sand a few yards away from me, talking so loudly that I could hear them over the thunder. I turned my back to them and attempted to quiet the baby I was holding, CJ. His real name was Christopher Jude, but nobody called him that because CJ was easier to say. Anyway, Christopher Jude didn't sound so baby-like. CJ responded by crying even louder.
I sighed. I'd checked his diaper, and it didn't need changing. I'd tried to feed him a bottle and promptly gotten it smashed in my face. It could have been the thunder that upset him, but I seriously doubted that, being as he could sleep through an absolutely insane storm soundly. I knew that babies cried a lot, but I didn't like it. "Come on," I said to him softly, "be easy on your big sis. What's wrong? Are you sleepy, CJ?"
I knew that probably was the case since he'd skipped his afternoon nap. Or this meant that he just wasn't happy. Or he didn't like me. "You know," I told CJ, "it's a really tough world out there. And if you just go around not liking people, they won't like you either. And then you'll make life more difficult than it needs to be and sit there as an old man and say, 'Oh, I was so stupid to waste my life like this, wahh,' but you won't be able to do anything about it." It was dumb to tell all of this to a baby who was supposed to cry like this anyway, but I couldn't help myself. I needed to vent to someone. Even if it was a five-month-old.
CJ sobbed so loudly I thought that, with the guys talking nearby and the thunder, that my eardrums would burst. I sighed again. "Okay," I said, "I'm sorry." I sat down on the sand and rocked him back and forth as best as I could. He stopped crying a little bit, but not much.
For what must have been the next half hour, I walked him up and down the beach, avoiding the guys every time; I wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. However, I did talk to CJ a little bit, making up stories about dancing cupcakes and puppies and whatever happy baby shit I could think up. Just as his pale eyelids were closing, the guys on the beach erupted into a huge argument. One of them stormed off and was followed by another. The three guys still there shouted all sorts of profanities after them, and I was suddenly reminded of myself and Heather. So maybe my neighbors also had relationship problems.
I sat down again, thanking God that CJ was finally asleep. I looked up after a shadow passed over us and suddenly found myself surrounded by three...giants. There was no other way to describe it. They were huge. Easily six feet tall, and looking strong enough to make professional wrestlers cry out of fear at the sight of them. Instinctively I backed up slighty, intimidated by their size. All of them had the same dark eyes, same tanned skin, same haircut, though some had it longer than others. Who looked to be the youngest of them - though they all looked at least twenty - had the strangest expression on his face. It was a mixture of shock and...I didn't know. It was so hard to explain. Respect? Awe? I wasn't sure.
The one closest to me laughed for some reason I couldn't figure out. At the exact same time, the other two chuckled quietly under their breaths. "Hello," he said, his voice deep and surprisingly reassuring. "You must have just moved here, right? I'm Quil. Quil Ateara." He held out a huge hand.
"Oh, uh, hi," I said, readjusting CJ so I could shake it. I was surprised that he didn't break my hand right in two. "I'm Willow Davidson. I did just move here. It's nice to meet you."
The one standing right next to him smiled at me as I let go of Quil's hand. "Embry Call," he chirped.
"Hi, Embry."
Embry coughed something under his breath, and the youngest-seeming one, the one with the weird expression, stepped forward shyly, but somehow with determination. He had sandy blonde hair that stuck up all over the place, but still looked nice, I guess. In a way. Quil and Embry exchanged a grin behind his back, and Quil laughed again.
"Seth Clearwater," the blonde said (still with that expression), holding out his hand like Quil. I shook it and he ran his thumb over the back of my hand, seeming to feel the soft skin there. His hand felt warm. Almost too warm.
"I'm Willow," I said again. "Good to meet you."
"Willow," he repeated, saying my name as though it was sacred. He was still holding my hand, and for a wild moment I thought he was going to kiss it. But after a moment, he just dropped his hand, letting it fall loosely to his side.
All of a sudden, their eyes snapped to CJ dozing peacefully against my chest. I could see the question in their eyes as they thought it at the same time: Is that kid hers? I hastily added, "And this is my little brother, CJ. His name is Christopher Jude, actually, but call him CJ. It sounds less stupid."
They all laughed at that, a perfect chorus of three. I smiled, then jumped as thunder crashed overhead. CJ woke up at this and I thought to myself, Welcome to another four hours of Hell. He started to cry, and I stood up, feeling as exhausted as he must have.
"Well, it was nice meeting you all," I said for the third time, "but I have to go back to my house now. You know, before my mom has a panic attack over the furniture not being at the perfect angle and stuff."
I dragged my feet up the sandy hill, hearing them yell good-bye and see you around as I went. At least, I could hear Quil and Embry. Not Seth. As I headed up to my house, I could feel a pair of eyes on the back of my head. I turned, and Seth was standing on the beach, smiling at me. Quil and Embry were walking down the beach at an incredible speed, but he wasn't following them.
He waved at me once, and ran off to join his friends.