Author's Note:
Thanks for those awesome reviews, guys! Eight was way more than I expected for that chapter. So, special 'ecial thanks to: taybaybay, Anonymous, Yodes, Gryffindor Gurl2, Pepper2013, katevs, ASHLYNN, and alyse. You guys freaking rock. :]
So, yes, Al had a major [and that's putting it lightly] meltdown. Al is more sentimental and sensitive than Cassie is, and she feels strongly about everything. So, maybe that can show you guys her perspective and understand her a little more.
Okay, Anonymous. You predicted that Cassie would have to choose between Tommy and Paul. I dunno. You kind of are talking to the psycho who created Cassie and this weird story. You may be right, may be wrong. Not sure. You'll just have to wait and see. ;D
Katevs: Thanks for the offer, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to have a beta. I'm pretty...crazy when it comes to handing my stories out. Hell, I won't even let my sister read them. It takes me at least ten minutes to convince myself to update my story with a chapter, and convince myself it wasn't a total epic fail. I'm pretty insecure like that. But, let me make you a deal: Whenever I can get medicine that will make me less psychotic, I'll message you, and, if you want to, you can be my beta. Deal?
So, thanks so much for reading, and I even got a new reviewer. But, I'm still kind of waiting for half of my alert list to give me a review and tell me how much they like, or hate, my story. But, I'll be patient.
Thanks for loving Tommy so much. He is pretty vital to my story right now, and I'm glad I got reviews on how great he was. He sends his love. [I also have a poll on Tommy, and what color eyes should he have. I can't decide.]
So:
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Twilight by Stephenie Meyer, only a shrine I hold in my closet dedicated to her and her books.
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Spending Time at Emily's
I had only seen Embry twice since Al broke it off with him, and he looked terrible. Each time, he barraged me with questions like, "Is she okay?" and, "Does she hate me?" I had replied, No, she doesn't hate you, and, yes, she's okay, doing just peachy. It wasn't a total lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth, either.
Al was still pretty broken up about the whole thing, but she wouldn't tell me what he had said. I had asked Paul about it, if Embry had told him anything, but he had gotten all tense and then would none-too-subtly change the subject. The guys hadn't come over to the house, either. This past week, I had to hang around Emily's when I wanted to talk and hang out with them. Needless to say, Al was a no-show.
"Has Embry told you anything, Emily?" I asked, desperately wanting to hear something different from what I've been told. But, she shook her head, smiling kindly at me. "I'm afraid not, Cassie. I think he's just a little sensitive about the subject, is all." I groaned loudly, and Emily chuckled at my hopelessness. "Don't worry. They'll soon realize how useless it is and get back together. Eventually."
"I know that Em, but why does it have to be 'eventually'? Why can't it be now, dammit?!" I cried out. Emily laughed freely, chopping up slices of chicken. She was used to my mood-swings and random outbursts, and it was a nice change from my parents and how they would send me to my room when I randomly burst out with a curse word.
When I had asked her why she didn't care when I used language, she had laughed it off, saying that hanging around the boys since they were teenagers made her used to foul language. The only time no one cursed was when Emily's kids were around, but once in a while, someone slipped and would have their palms slapped with a wooden spoon. Most of the time, it was Paul on the receiving end of the spoon. Then, someone would laugh—Seth—and then Paul would chase after him with the spoon, wielding it like a dangerous weapon. But, with Paul, it was pretty dangerous.
There was a loud crash outside from the backyard, and then rowdy laughter. Emily's nostrils flared angrily, and, with hands on hips, she left the chicken on the cutting board and walked out the back door and proceeded to scold the boys. Thank God she put the knife down first. Sam walked in, looking around the kitchen. "Where's Em?"
"Outside yelling at the guys." I said flatly. It was no secret that she did so on a daily basis. He smirked. "They do something stupid?"
"Inevitably."
"That's my girl." Sam gloated, a proud grin adorning his face. I chuckled at the puppy-like adoration he wore whenever he talked about Emily and when he was around her. And, that happened a lot. On queue, Emily walked in, looking just a little miffed.
"What happened?" Sam asked, immediately concerned. I rolled my eyes. And people said I had mood swings.
"They were wrestling, and they crashed into my flower pots." She griped, walking over to the sink to wash her hands. Sam walked up behind her, and rested large hands on her shoulders. He bent down to whisper something in her ear, and she immediately relaxed. It wasn't like he was using bed-talk, but I still felt like I was intruding. I excused myself, and walked out of the kitchen.
As soon as I stepped outside, I felt better. I could see Quil and Jake rolling on the ground, laughing as they tried to pin one other. On the side, Paul was laughing as Seth picked bits and pieces of petals and leaves from his hair with a dejected expression.
"Aw, Seth, don't do that. You look so beautiful." I teased, and Seth stuck his tongue out at me. "Don't be jealous 'cause I have bigger boobs than you, Cass." I felt myself tint pink, and I tried to inconspicuously cover my chest up. He hit a sore spot.
"You do not," I said defensively. "Plus, how do you even know yours are bigger than mine?" Seth rolled his eyes at me.
"Dude, I tried your bra on, and, trust me, that was a tight squeeze. Nearly cut off all blood flow in my chest. What are you? Size A? Small B?" he asked, and I flushed brighter. He hit his target on the last guess.
"Well, I for one think she's perfect." Paul all but growled, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close to him. I felt grateful that he stuck up for me, but embarrassed by the looks we were getting. Quil and Jake stopped there wrestling and leered up at us, and I saw Emily and Sam peeking out the window at us.
"You only think that because you im—"
"Wow! I'm sooo hungry!" Jake exclaimed loudly. "Lets go see what Emily has for us!" I watched them strangely as both Jake and Quil smacked Seth on the back of the head hard as they passed him to go inside. Seth grumbled something, and Paul growled, the noise rumbling in his chest loudly. It reminded me of Embry, and I quietly wondered if all of the La Push men did that. Was it genetic?
"You hungry?" Paul asked me. I thought about it. I was hungry, but I couldn't leave Al alone at the house. I was started to shake my head no, but I caught the devastated expression on Paul's face, and thought better of it. "Yeah, just a little." Paul beamed at me, flashing ultra-white teeth at me. It was blinding.
He encased my hand in his large one and led me into the house and into the house. I stumbled along side him, trying to keep up with his long legs. Damn, he must be hungry if he was walking this fast.
When we walked into the kitchen, the guys were already lined up, all but panting as Emily finished the food and pulled delicacies from the oven. It was like a buffet; not an inch of counter was uncovered. Quil reached to grab at a chicken strip, but Emily was quick as greased lightning with her wooden spoon, smacking at his hand.
"No," she scolded. "Ladies first." She nodded towards me, and the guys glared petulantly in my direction. "I'm really not hungry, Em. I'll just—"
"I'll get your food, Cass. I'll bring it to you in the living room." Paul said, smiling down at me. It felt like I was hypnotized, and I nodded my head stupidly. There were chuckles from behind me as I stumbled into the living room and plopped myself ungracefully onto the couch. How come I never noticed he had such pretty dark eyes before? In the kitchen, there was growling and a high-pitched yelp—most likely because of Emily and her spoon of justice.
Paul walked in, carrying two plates piled high with food. I watched incredulously as he placed one in front of me, smiling, before proceeding to stuff his face with food.
"Um, Paul?" I asked slowly. "I don't think I could eat that much. Why don't you take some?" I tried to pour the contents onto his plate, but he stopped me, his mouth set in a stern line.
"Cassie, you need to eat." He said, pushing my plate back to me.
I glared at him nastily. "Paul, I am going to eat; I'm not anorexic. But, what I am trying to say is that there is no way in hell I will be able to eat all of this." I shoved the plate back at him.
"Oo. Am I sensing a disturbance in the force on lover's lane?" Jake teased with a smirk as he sat in the couch on the other side of the room. Paul ignored him.
"Cassie, eat."
"I will, just not all of that."
"Oh my God, this is getting so good." Seth stage-whispered to Quil, who choked on the bread stick he had just shoved down his mouth. Jake pounded him on his back, and Seth boomed his laughter.
"Cassidy," Paul lectured. "You're too skinny. You need to eat." I gaped at him.
"Too skinny? So, you are calling me anorexic!" I accused, and Paul set his plate down onto the coffee table.
"This," he said, touching my ribs and applied pressure. "Is too skinny." I flushed, and Quil hooted. "Paul, I think you want to go up a little ways, eh?"
The guys laughed, except for Paul, who scowled nastily at them. I eyed my plate, and picked up a piece of cornbread. I tested the weight of it, just like Al had taught me in seventh grade, and then lobbed it at Quil, hitting him right between the eyes. The result was satisfying, watching the cornbread crumble and scatter everywhere. A few pieces even flew off and hit Seth and Jake.
It was quiet, and Quil shook his head slowly at me. "Cassidy, if there is one thing you have yet to learn in this household is that payback is a bitch." Before I could react, a breadstick—the one I'm pretty sure Quil was just choking on—hit me smack-dab in the cheek, leaving a liquid-y residue behind. My eye twitched as Quil laughed, tears streaming down his cheeks. Paul vibrated beside me, a growl rumbling in his chest.
I picked a handful of chicken tenders and threw them at Quil, one lodging itself in his open mouth. "The general is down! Cease fire!" Seth cried dramatically, pounding on Quil's back. Jake pursed his lips thoughtfully, eyeing me mischievously. He picked up his piece of chicken, and I tensed for impact.
There was a loud thudding sound, but I hadn't felt anything. When I looked up, Jake was laughing, and Paul had pieces of maimed fried chicken in his hair.
"Jake," Paul said, his voice strangled. "When you mess with Cassie, that's one thing, but when you mess with me, that's a whole different thing." He picked up his plate and threw it at Jake, hitting him in his chest. Gravy spilled down his stomach and onto his pants, and Seth and Quil watched in shock. Jake picked up Quil's plate—who cried out in dismay.
"Return fire!" Jake ordered, throwing the plate at us. I squeaked as Paul shielded me, taking the full impact of the blow. I needed to remember to thank him later.
I pushed Paul back and grabbed my plate and shoved it into his waiting hands. I grabbed random bits of food and launched it at them, Paul doing the same.
The battle was intense, and we had casualties on both sides. Paul and I had huge ketchup stains in our shirts, food tangled into our hair. Quil had choked on food more than once, and Jake was covered head to toe in food. The fighting only stopped when there was a loud shriek.
"What is going on here?!" Emily screeched, and our loaded hands froze mid-air. Nobody dared say a word, for fear of the spoon.
Seth looked like he was about to cry. I hadn't noticed before, but he was the only one who hadn't been throwing food. He was on the floor, touching the makeshift missiles almost tenderly. "So much waste," he whispered, eyes glassy. "Why, oh why must the tasty die young?"
"Seth!" Emily barked, and he was quiet. "Now, I'll ask one more time: What is going on in here?" Her voice had lowered, but I knew it was deception. I willed Paul to stay quiet because I really didn't want to see him get whacked.
"We were having a food fight." Quil said, almost cheerfully. Emily, quick as a flash, smacked him across his bare chest with the spoon, and he squeaked.
"Everyone," she barked in a low, commanding voice. "Is to stay and clean up. No one leaves here until there is not a messy spot on my new rug. Understood? Good." Emily marched out of the room like an army commander, and we all glared at one another.
"Thanks a lot, Cassidy," Jake growled. "Now we've go—"
"No talking in there!"
We shut our mouths and set to the task, scurrying around like mice. We picked up the broken bits of food—Seth sniffling every once in a while when he came across a particularly gruesome scene.
For over two hours, we scrubbed at stains and threw away the spoiled food. It was hard work, especially with three men scowling at me the entire time. But Paul stood by my side, and I was thankful for that.
"Oh my God. What happened in here?" I looked up to see a girl I didn't recognize, rubbing her swollen stomach in curiosity. A large man stood behind her—looking just like the others.
"Jared, my man!" Quil cried. "What are you doing here?"
"Just beholding perhaps the most idiotic spectacle in the history of Emily's ever." Jared said, his eyes scanning the room and at each one of our faces, stopping only on mine. The girl also saw me, and she smiled hugely at me.
"Oo! You must be the new girl! Cassie, right? I'm Kim!" she greeted, rushing over to shake my hand. I chuckled nervously, marveling at the strength of her hand. Someone was going to be screwed come delivery time.
"Nice to meet you." I said, pulling my hand back and inconspicuously rubbed it, trying to regain the feeling in it.
"Jared, my man! What are you doing here?" Quil said again, a little forcefully this time. Jared rolled his eyes, grinning. "Em called us over, saying that she had something to tell us. Speaking of which, where is she?"
"Right here, dear." Emily said, smiling warmly. Her eyes scanned the living room critically, and, obviously pleased, smiled even larger. Sam came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "Have you told them, yet?" he asked, nuzzling her cheek.
"Just getting to it, honey," she said, flushing. I barely contained the urge to look away in embarrassment. "Okay, so guys…I'm having a baby!"
It was quiet before Kim squealed, clapping her hands excitedly. Jared had to restrain her, telling her that it wouldn't be too good for the baby if she got too carried away. She immediately stopped, but couldn't help the twitches of energy. And people call me manic.
Seth slapped his forehead. "No wonder! I thought that you finally lost your marbles—ow!" Emily had slapped him with her spoon, nostrils flaring. Sam chuckled, trying uselessly to pry the weapon from her tight grip.
"How far along are you?" I asked.
"Two months." She said, grinning madly. So, if it was June, she would have seven months left, so perhaps the due date would be somewhere around January.
"Ugh, seven more months to endure the painful hormones. I feel bad for you,
S—ouch!" Quil yelped when Sam pinched him. "What is wrong with you?!"
"Don't you guys have somewhere you need to be?" Sam asked suggestively. "Like over at Claire's or the Cullens?" There we go again with the Cullens. Who are they? Jake and Quil immediately perked up.
"Well, I need to go home. Al probably needs me." I said, standing up. Paul immediately got up, too. "I'll come with you." I looked at him oddly, but I didn't say anything. I waved goodbye to the guys, closing the door just in time to hear Emily yelling something about chicken.
Paul and I walked out to the car, and I hopped into the driver's side and Paul lowered himself in the passenger's. "This car is so small." He complained, trying to stretch his cramped legs. I snorted, raising my eyebrows at him.
"No, you're just huge." I said. "Want to continue our game of twenty questions?" Paul nodded his head and started it off. "How many guys have you dated?" he asked. I flushed, but answered, a little reluctantly. "Two."
"Two? That's it?"
"No, Paul, I was just being sarcastic." I snarled.
"…Now you're just being mean."
"Okay, how many girls have you dated?" I asked. I didn't miss how he tensed and his hands tightened in his lap. "Pass."
"You can't pass a question! That's cheating! Now, answer the question, and truthfully." It took him a minute, and I could see him calculating in his head.
"I don't know." He said finally, and I looked at him disbelievingly. "What? I lost count."
"You lost count? What the hell are you? A prostitute?" I asked, laughing a little. Paul ignored me, and launched into another question. "Why were you scared of me when we first met?"
"Uh, hello? You're tall, muscular, and from what I heard just moments before our 'encounter', I had just heard several menacing stories about you and your temper. Now, if you were in my shoes, wouldn't you have been just a little scared? Now, my turn: was that you who kept calling and hanging up on me a few weeks ago?" It was a tough question, one that I had been saving for further down the line, but I thought it better just to go ahead and see his reaction.
He tensed again—a mannerism I knew that meant he didn't like something or was nervous. "Yes."
"Why?" I asked, and Paul exhaled quietly. "Because, the last I saw of you, you had just run like a bat out of hell to get away from me. I wanted to apologize for my behavior, but every time I heard your voice, or your friends, I chickened out and hung up. Satisfied?"
"Immensely." I said, smiling. "Your turn."
"What college are you going to?"
"The University of La Push. What college did you go to?"
"Same one. I took classes there to become a mechanic. What job do you want after you get out of college?" he asked, and I thought about it while I drove.
"I think," I said. "That I want to go into journalism, or something like that. What's your job?"
"I work on cars at a shop locally with Sam and the guys." He said as I pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition.
"Okay, one last question: how are you going to get back without a car?" I asked. Paul smiled at me, like he was happy that I was concerned. "I'll figure out a way." He stepped out of the car, and I did, too.
"I'll walk you to your door." Paul said, taking my hand. I raised an eyebrow at him, hardly bothered with the fact how natural it felt now to be with him. "It's not like we've just come back from a date, Paul. You don't have to if you don't want to."
"I want to."
We walked the short distance from the car to the door, and I smirked at him. "Happy?" I teased, and he grinned down at me. "Extremely."
It was quiet, and my heart started to beat erratically. My hand was still in his, and I was hyperactively aware of how little space was between us. He seemed aware of the fact, too, but didn't move away. "Paul." I mumbled. And, as clichéd as it might sound, I was dazzled by his eyes so much that I couldn't frame a coherent thought. His lips were getting closer to mine, and my breath was coming faster. Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I suddenly realized my predicament.
I pulled back, pretending I didn't notice how his face fell. "I need to go and check up on Al, see if she's okay. I'll see you later, right?" It was an excuse, I knew, and I felt like a wretched person for using it.
Paul nodded his head, the dejected expression still not completely gone from his eyes. "Yeah, later." He turned around, and I felt guilty, but I just wasn't ready. For what, I didn't quite know.
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"He almost kissed you, and you pulled away?" Tommy asked over the phone. I could hear the hustle and bustle of work in the background.
"Yeah." I said glumly. I heard Tommy snicker.
"One for Tommy, zero for Paul." He crowed proudly, and I rolled my eyes.
"Oh, please, Tommy. What makes you think that this is a competition?" I asked, and immediately wished I hadn't. Thankfully, Tommy was considerate enough to spare me the details.
"It's a guy thing, Cassie. You wouldn't know anything about it. Or, at least, I should hope not. You're not a guy, are you? Because I met one too many chicks who turned out to be dudes—"
"Shut up, Tommy. I need to go, now. Bye."
"Wait!" Tommy said, and I listened. "You didn't tell me: how are things going with Al and Embry?"
"Well, Al isn't a zombie anymore, and the two times I've seen Embry, he looks like a total mess. But, Al has promised me that she was going to try to set things straight, but just at her own pace."
"Ah, I see." Tommy! Quit wasting your time and help me with the orders! Stat! "There goes my mom, and potentially my sanity. But, I'll see you soon." Tommy! "'Night, Cassie."
"Night, Tommy." Click.
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NINE Pages. That, too, was for you, Yodes. I really am trying to make my chapters longer and trying to keep things light. But, there will be drama--the story warrants it--but I won't make it in-your-face like the last chapter was. Things can't always go right in the Lane of Love. So, you'll have to ponder my hints and predict what you think might happen.
So, press that super awesomely majestic green and gray button and review. Paul and Cassie will love you guys for EVER.