A/N: I know this is fast, but trust me, I going somewhere here. I just hope it's not too fast. Uhm, please leave a review this time? Tell me my rooms for improvement ans stuff. Would really appriciate it. :D

Chapter III: Tomato

Act natural. Act natural. Act natural. I continued to chant my new mantra in my head as I had been doing for the past five minutes. She was sitting in my truck! In MY truck!

I looked at her from the corner of my eye and I wanted to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming. Really? After everything that happened since yesterday afternoon, she trusted me already? Really? Not that I was complaining, but come on! I mean, wasn't she the one who said I looked like I was going to kill her yesterday?

But, again, I'll take it. I'm with my imprint and I will NOT ruin it.

I took a glance at her from the corner of my eye; she had perched her elbow on the open window of my car, leaning her chin on her hand as she looked out, watching the tree line whiz by in a blur. Her hair was done in a low braid hanging over her shoulder, but a couple of renegade strands blew around in the wind. Her lips were returning to a normal color now, they looked smoother, too. Maybe that was because of the greenish, herby smelling cream in a small glass container that she applied on them.

Turning my gaze fully back onto the road, I took a deep breath; inhaling her perfume: vanilla, and when I caught a whiff of her unique scent, it had my mind spinning back to the question: What is she? But that wasn't my priority now. I wanted to know who she was first and I know everything will soon follow once I've won her over. I pushed the ridiculous thought plaguing me of her being dangerous. It was just that her scent was different, right? We have only been in La Push and there were occasional visits to Forks, but thaw was about it. Who were we to conclude that she wasn't normal?

But what I heard next had my insides churning. She started to sing, quietly. It was too low for normal, human hearing to hear it properly, especially with the wind blowing at her. But I heard it, her lips moving with each word she sung. The tune was creepy to begin with but the lyrics had the hairs at the back of my neck standing on end.

Because two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, she crooned, her fingers pressed on the inside of her palm in specific patters, as if to bear down at the strings of a guitar on her lap. I knew that song; I had heard it from one of Claire's favorite TV series, the title of which was currently lost to me. Didn't someone die in that series?

"You'll love the food in Auntie Annie's diner," I spoke up, trying to keep my mind off the song. It was probably her favorite series too, so it was normal for her to sing the theme. It just different than what I usually listen too, just as her scent was different. Right? "They have the best Roast Beef Sandwich in town."

"I'm sorry," she turned to me, an apologetic smile gracing her lips. "I don't eat meat."

"You don't?" my eyebrows rose in surprise. What the fuck, Spirits? My soul mate doesn't eat meat? "Why not?"

"I just don't," she shrugged, turning back out the window. "My family is vegetarian."

"Oh," I gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter; I could feel an awkward silence coming on. Dumbass Spirits matched me with a vegetarian. ME! A freakin' WOLF to a vegetarian? "They have salad."

"It's ok," she giggled.

I tried my darn best to keep my eyes on the road as she reached over to the rear view mirror to touch the ornament that dangled from it. It was a dream catcher, something I made with Jake a few months back when he was making Leah one for her birthday. In my defense, I was bored out of my mind. Quil was out with Claire, as usual, which left me with a lovesick wolf who wanted to make a personal gift for, as Seth would put it, "The Evil Bitch."

Funny though, Leah chucked it down the cliffs where he took her for a picnic to celebrate. Apparently, she was angry that he would give her the same gift he gave Isabitch Swan for her birthday before she was turned. Jake vowed never to give her another dream catcher again.

"Where did you get this?" she inquired. She ran her fingers along its decorated rim before folding both her hands primly on her lap. "It's beautiful."

"I made it," I suppressed a grin and managed to turn it into a small smile. I involuntarily puffed out my chest a bit, feeling it swell with pride.

"Really now?" her tone was questioning, teasing. Even without looking at her face I somehow felt that she was smirking.

"Okay. My friend helped me," I relented with a laugh, twisting my head a bit to look at her briefly and back. "He was one of the guys who tackled me at the beach yesterday."

"Does it really work?" she looked at it again, tilting her head curiously. "Catch dreams and stuff?"

"Usually, we have to hang it over our heads on the bed," I told her, shrugging. "But I never really tried it before. I can handle nightmares pretty well, I don't think I need it."

"I want one," she announced, her tone suddenly wary. "Maybe it'll work on my nightmares."

"You can have that if you want." I offered, pulling up in the diner's parking lot. I unhooked it from the rear view mirror and held it out for her after the car stopped. "Here."

"Are you sure?" she hesitated, pulling at the end of her braid, offering me a peek of the tattoo at her wrist again. I saw half of it, a sort of star within a circle.

"Yeah, I insist," I extended the dream catcher closer to her and she took it shyly, holding it with both hands. Her face held a hopeful expression and I before I could help myself, I asked, "What kind of nightmares?"

Her impossibly huge, green eyes looked up at me, they looked frightened. "That there was something after me. I can't really tell what it is; just that I think it wants me dead."

I narrowed my eyes at the way her hands gripped the string of the dream catcher, the way her lips quivered when she told me about her dreams. There was a nagging feeling that it wasn't just a dream.

She cast a strained smile at me, "I think this will work, don't you?"

"I hope it helps," I told her honestly. I didn't really think those things work, the one Bella had sure didn't. We used to hear her scream at the reservation back when she was still having them. I unhooked my seatbelt and opened the door, "C'mon, we have a lot of places to go to after lunch."

She gingerly tucked the dream catcher in her purse, and followed my lead. I locked my truck, I seldom do, they didn't have anything to steal anyway and my truck was really old. But she had left her surfboard and her backpack full of her surfing gear, in the backseat. After making sure that the lock was secured, I lead her into the diner and sat her in the pack's favorite corner booth. Sure enough, she got an order of garden salad. Usually I ordered five roast beef sandwiches, but that might freak her out. I opted for only two this time.

"How long have you had them?" I asked while we were waiting for our order. She quirked any eyebrow at me in question, "The nightmares, I mean."

"Since I turned sixteen," she leaned her arms on the table and started to pick at the chipped nail polish on her fingernails. "I rarely had a decent night's rest since then."

"Does your family know?"

"Yes," she nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. "That's why my brother suggested I travel. But that hasn't helped much."

I decided to change the topic, seeing that she was getting really uncomfortable. "Where are you from?"

"Salem, Massachusetts," she smiled at me, unforced this time. "Born and raised."

"You mean like the place of the Witch Hunt and stuff?" I asked as the waitress laid our order on the table. She nodded. "Were people really killed?"

"Yes," she confirmed, mixing the dressing into her salad. "A lot of people were killed because of false accusations. But that have long since passed. Though they still hold plays and stuff to reenact those times for the tourists."

"You live with your parents?"

"No." she shook her head once, stabbing a piece of tomato with her fork, a little forceful. "It's just me and my brother. Our parents died a few weeks after his twentieth birthday, I was twelve. He's been taking care of me ever since."

"I'm sorry," I felt like I've shoved a foot up my mouth, my grip on the glass of soda I was about to drink tightened. Her sadness washed over me like the crashing waves at First Beach. "I didn't mean to bring it up."

"You didn't know," she forced a smile, bringing up the fork to her mouth. Her first bite.

My eyes were transfixed on the piece of fruit as it slipped between her lips. I felt my mouth grow dry as she closed her mouth over the fork. What was happening to me? When did I suddenly find something as plain as eating a tomato to be so sensual? I don't remember any of this in the memory of the other imprinted wolves. They didn't get all worked up over seeing their imprint eating a piece of fruit.

My attention was suddenly taken by the sudden flash in her eyes. My gaze snapped back at them, but like earlier today, her eyes were their normal green shade, staring down at the plate. Second time today. This isn't also in any of the memories I've seen from my brothers.

"So, where's your brother now?" I changed the subject again.

This girl had a lot of baggage on her, convincing me of Rachel's theory about imprinting. Jacob's sister was miserable after returning to La Push. The place reminded her of memories with her mother which meant it reminded her of Mrs. Black's untimely death in a car accident that also left her father on a wheelchair for the rest of his life. According to her, Paul came to her when she needed him most. He found her while he came over to their house to bring news of Jacob to Billy. She was sobbing on the porch, clutching at an old teddy bear, a gift from her mother. He imprinted on her, tried to kiss her, got slapped for it and the rest was history.

"Dante is in Spain now. After I turned sixteen, he needed to travel to oversee our family business. He put it on hold insisting to the board of directors that he wanted to wait for me turning that particular age before doing so, stating that I still needed him," she pushed around a piece of olive with her fork. "He calls me every day to ask how I am and tell me about his day and stuff. Makes sure I had enough money on me and would send me more if I asked for it through my ATM, though it was rare since he gave me three credit cards and one emergency card."

"I see." So this girl was loaded, huh? I should've figured it out by now, I did see that her surfing gear were top notch. Thank the spirits for imprinting, I doubt that she would've given me a second glance if I didn't imprint on her. "What brings you to La Push?" I asked stupidly, already knowing the answer. I think.

"The swell," she looked up, smiling brightly. "I love surfing and my brother supports this little hobby of mine. He bought me all my gear and finances all my surfing trips."

"Wow," Geez, I wonder how her brother would react if he met me? A Quileute boy who owns a garage with his best friends, earning just enough to make ends meet? I doubt he would approve of me, seeing as I can't give her anything and everything she wanted like he can. For sure he would want someone as rich as they were for her.

"Enough about me though," she probably felt my uneasiness. "What do you do, Embry?"

Well, aside from the fact that I can phase into a wolf and kill vampires in my spare time, I just fix cars with my brothers for a living.

Right, that would impress her brother.