Disclaimer: This also applies to chapter one. "Fallible" is mine. The Twilight Saga is not, and there is no copyright infringement intended. I'm only borrowing these characters, not adopting them.

06 – JEALOUS GREEN EYES - 06

I wish he hadn't said that he'd meet me after work because now I'm paranoid. I've been paranoid throughout my entire shift. Paranoid and anxious, and constantly looking out of the windows and towards the doorway every time the door opens. The customers can tell I'm on edge, Uncle Harry can tell I'm on edge, and I'm not sure how long I can wait here before my nerves push me over.

Once again, it bothers me how much of a hold Sam has on my emotions. Especially for someone who is just supposed to be a friend. I sigh. Who am I kidding with that? Myself least of all, that's for sure.

For the millionth time, I check the clock. It's Uncle Harry's turn to let out a sigh.

"Emily," he says, causing me to jump… which in turn causes my elbow to knock over a new fishing rod rack on display. His face expression turns into one of annoyance.

"Sorry," I say, red-faced.

"You only have an hour left… why don't you go on home? You can call Sue to come pick you up if you don't feel like walking."

"Are you sure?" I say as I lean over to pick up the rod rack. I set it down on the counter.

"I'm sure. Everything's good here. And we both know your mind is far, far away," he adds with a smile.

Caught. As if I'm not being completely obvious. I smile back, sheepishly.

Speaking of 'far, far away,' I wonder how not so far away Sam is. The thought prompts me to speed up my actions, and I hurry upstairs to call Aunt Sue. I don't know how I feel about him right now, but I do know that I'm not in the right frame of mind to have him walk me home, or anywhere. I don't really want to see him until I get my head – and my heart – together. Because right now, they're speaking two different languages.

In ten minutes, Aunt Sue is here waiting outside. I let Uncle Harry know I'm leaving and that I'll see him later on, and I step out of the door. Sam is nowhere to be seen. I hop in the car, and we're off –

- off balance. I feel so completely ridiculous, but I can't help myself. I pace back and forth in Leah's room wondering what his face expression looked like when he saw that I had left. I wonder if I hurt his feelings by leaving early when he had told me he'd be there to meet me afterwards.

I don't have to wonder long.

The doorbell rings downstairs and dread forms a pool in my stomach. I just know it's him.

Sure enough, "Emily!" Aunt Sue calls upstairs for me. "Sam is here to see you!"

I wonder how she feels about that.

Quickly glancing at myself in the mirror, I run my fingers through my hair. Then, I shake my head as I realize how absurd I look. It's not going to happen, Emily. Stop acting crazy.

I fling the bedroom door open and choke on a scream. Sam is standing there poised to knock.

"Hi," he says, as he repositions his hand and runs the tips of his fingers through his hair. It's slightly longer than before. I wonder if he'll cut it again.

"Hi," I say, bereft of any other words.

He looks past me into Leah's room. "Can I come in?"

I step aside and allow him to enter. He makes a beeline for the bed and sits. With a pang, I note what a familiar gesture that is for him. Of course, he's familiar with Leah's room because he's her ex-fiancée. Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I won't feel so –

"Close the door?" he asks, and I look at him, uncertainly.

"Why?" I ask, my fingers playing with the doorknob, nervously.

He looks away. "If it makes you uncomfortable…"

"No, I – " I stop talking and silently berate myself for being stupid. Emily. Stop being so awkward. I close the door, and walk over to where he's made space on the bed. I sit down gingerly.

He turns to me, his face darker with a hint of a blush. I try to ignore it.

"I'm sorry," he says, hesitantly. "I know you're probably insanely confused, and I'm sorry."

I wait, but he doesn't say anything more.

"You're not going to explain, are you?" I say, resignedly. He doesn't answer. Figures.

"I wish I knew why it was such a big deal," I continue. "I don't even have to know what's going on, but if there was some kind of explanation, maybe I could…"

He shifts on the bed next to me and I have the strangest feeling he's about to run away. Like if I keep pushing this, he'll just bolt. Whatever is going on, it's delicate. I can tell that much, at least. So, reluctantly, I switch tactics.

"Sam," I say, in a much softer voice, "I don't need to know all of your secrets. I really don't. You're entitled to have secrets, and you're allowed to choose who you tell those secrets to. I don't mean to be nosy; I just…was worried about you. That's all."

He looks up in surprise. "You were worried? About me?" he asks, as if that's such an impossible thing. Like no one has ever worried about him before.

I nod.

"Don't be. I'm okay. I'm fine," he responds.

I smile. "I see that now. And it's good. I just wasn't sure."

"I'm sorry I made you worry," he adds. And he really does look sorry. He looks like a little boy who's being scolded for something he did wrong. It bothers me. I don't want him to feel guilty about it. As much as it pained me to say, he is entitled to his secrets.

"Can you do something for me?" I ask, shyly.

"Anything," he says, with that intense stare. My heartbeat accelerates, but I force myself not to look away.

"Even if you can't tell me what's going on… if something like this happens again, where you'll be away for a while, can you let me know in advance? Or… call periodically to let me know that you're okay?"

My heart is really pounding now. I'm aware that saying these words are an admission to something I might not be ready for. He has to know that I care, but… this seems to cement it somehow.

"Yes. I can do that," he responds, quietly.

I'm blushing now. "Thank you." And just like that, he's forgiven.

The next few days are like heaven. He's around me constantly, all the time, and while that would potentially annoy me if it were anyone else, I welcome the attention from him. Although, in the back of my mind, I can't help the distracting thought that he wouldn't be around so much if Leah was home. As sad as it sounds, her not being here is like a breath of fresh air for both of us. Not to mention, Sue and Harry, who no longer have to deal with her gloomy attitude.

"What are you thinking about?" Sam asks, nudging me with his foot as he passes by the front counter of the store. It's his turn to take over for his shift, but he's been here for at least two hours already just hanging out with me.

"Leah," I say, honestly. He frowns. "What are you thinking about?"

"You and me."

My eyes widen. "What?"

He smiles. "Somebody mentioned at my other job that this new movie is coming out tomorrow. I thought maybe we could go see it. It'll be my way of making it up to you."

I purse my lips, narrow my eyes, and lean against the counter. "Hm, I don't know…" I say, in a sing-song voice, surprising myself. "Would there be food involved?"

He gives me his miniature smile, and I want to give him the world in return. The effect it still has on me is ridiculous. I wonder if this is a case of absence making the heart grow fonder.

"If there was food involved, wouldn't that technically make this a date?" he asks, all innocence. His searching eyes tell the truth and I struggle to keep my countenance.

"No, it doesn't have to be," I say, lightly, looking away from him. "Friends can go to dinner and a movie. I've seen it happen. On TV."

He laughs this time, and I make a note to invest in a few dozen pairs of sunglasses. Ray-Bans. Something.

"Okay," he says, relenting. "So we'll go as friends."

I smile, but for some reason that statement doesn't make me as happy or as relieved as I feel it should. A part of me wants him to insist it be a date, and another part of me keeps telling myself that Leah will be back eventually, and that her being away isn't an excuse for me to act and feel this way.

"Friends," I repeat out loud. Though in my head, I'm thinking that tomorrow can't come fast –

- fast enough. I know looking at the clock every two seconds isn't helping me at all, but I'm anxious and I don't know what to do with myself. Luckily Aunt Sue has taken Seth clothes shopping and Uncle Harry is taking a nap, so no one is present to witness my anxiety… or to make educated guesses at the reason.

I sigh as I sink down onto the couch. I've given up all pretense of watching TV, so I'm just staring at a dark screen. I force myself not to check the clock again. I know that logically he won't be able to get here until the store is closed, so I need to be patient.

I close my eyes and lean back on the couch. Maybe I can calm myself down enough in order to take a nap. It would certainly make the time go by faster. However, as soon as I get comfortable, a knock sounds at the door.

So much for calming down. I jump up, smooth my clothes down, and yank the door open without bothering to glance through the peephole.

Sam stands there, awkwardly holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and my heart jumps as I realize they're for me. He brought flowers for me. Pink roses to be more exact.

"Hey," he says, softly. He holds out the roses. "Not to confuse this with a date or anything, but I saw these and I thought of you… I hope that's okay."

"Thank you," I manage to say, faintly. It isn't that the roses are having such a huge effect on me, it's just him. In his dark blue fitted t-shirt, light-rinse jeans, and spotless white sneakers, he looks effortlessly put together and amazing.

"No problem," he says softly. "You can take those in. I'll wait in the car."

Car…? As he walks away, I peel my eyes away from him and look around to see a dark green jeep in the driveway. Since when does he have a car?

I search the kitchen hurriedly for a vase, but finding none, I settle on a tall pitcher. At first I fill it up and set it on the counter; then I change my mind and take it to Leah's room. Even though they're not date flowers, they are still flowers from a guy; from Sam. And I don't want to have to answer any awkward questions.

I look myself over in the mirror one more time, and decide that I look decent. I'm wearing a yellow V-neck long tee, black leggings and black boots. I throw on a scarf, and one of my own hoodies - I don't want to wear anything of Leah's tonight – and I head back downstairs.

Pulling the door shut behind me, I turn towards the jeep where Sam is waiting. He unlocks the passenger seat for me, and I open the door to slide in.

I open my mouth to ask about the car, but before I can get a word out, he answers my unspoken question.

"The car is Jared's," he explains. "He was cool enough to let me borrow it… after I explained that I needed to impress you." He gives me a sidelong glance.

Butterflies dance all around inside my stomach. "You already have," I mutter to myself, but of course he hears me.

"Good to know," he responds, softly, and I feel my face heat up.

He backs the car out of the driveway and we're off.

"I thought we should just go to Port Angeles," he says. "Everywhere else is closed already."

"That's fine," I respond.

We drive in silence for a little while, and I take the opportunity to study his profile. I know that he knows I'm watching him, but neither of us says a word. I can't seem to get over how beautiful he is, especially tonight. I decide that I like his hair better when it's shorter, because obviously it's annoying him that the fringe keeps falling into his eyes. I like when he's comfortable with himself and with his body, and how self-consciousness doesn't seem to apply to him at all. He just seems so… sure, so in control of his environment. It's a turn-on for sure…

And speaking of turn-ons, his scent is overpowering tonight. It's a mixture of some kind of body wash, a light dab of cologne and something woodsy. It's intoxicating. Just being in the car with him is giving me such a rush, and causing dangerous thoughts to run through my mind.

I wonder what would happen if I leaned over and -

"So, when did you get your license?" I blurt out, in an effort to distract myself. My question seems to take him by surprise, forcing me to wonder just exactly where his mind was two seconds ago.

"A few years ago," he says. "My mom actually taught me to drive when I was a lot younger, but I never made the effort to make it legal… until she got sick. By then, though, it was kind of pointless because we had to sell the car soon afterwards to make ends meet."

"Oh," I say, not really knowing what to say. I had never heard him say anything about his mom. Leah had never spoken about her, either. "Selling the car right when you could finally drive it must have been disappointing."

He smiles that tiny smile. "Yeah, it was. You have no idea."

I smile back. "So… does that mean you haven't driven in a while?" I ask, nonchalantly.

He glances over at me. "Why? Are you nervous I might crash?"

I pretend to think about it. "Maybe," I say, teasingly.

"Emily Young," he says in a voice like melting butter. "I would never do anything to put you in danger."

I feel my breath catch at his words. My heart stutters, and I look away. "You didn't answer the question."

"I haven't driven in a while," he admits. "A few years, actually."

"Years?" I ask, shocked. "A few years?"

At my tone, his face takes on a sheepish expression. Then, it switches to concern. "Listen, if you're uncomfortable with me driving, we could park somewhere and I could call a cab. But Emily, I assure you that my reflexes are better than they've ever been. I meant what I said about not putting you in danger. If I wasn't confident about driving, I wouldn't be."

"It's okay," I say after a moment. "I guess it's just like riding a bike, huh?"

"You don't know how to drive?" he asks, and I shake my head.

"I never needed to, what with public transportation, and all that."

"Would you like to learn? I could teach you."

"In Jared's car?" I raise my eyebrows. "Somehow, I don't think he would go for that. He doesn't even know me."

"He would if I asked him."

"Really?" I say, laughing a bit. "I don't know. Maybe. If you're sure he'd be okay with it."

"Yeah, it wouldn't be a problem. It would be fun." He smiles at me again, and I start thinking about other things that would be fun. Bad, Emily. Stop.

Shortly after that we reach Port Angeles, and pull up to a cute little restaurant practically hidden in a corner near the movie theatres. It's all very date-like, which causes me to wonder if he's brought Leah here before. The thought makes me frown. He notices.

"What's wrong? You don't like this place? Because we can go somewhere else," he says, uncertainly.

I shake my head. "No, no, it's fine. I was just… thinking about something." I bite my lip. He waits for me to continue, but I'm not so sure if I want to. I don't say anything, and he doesn't push the issue.

"Come on," he says, offering his hand.

I reach out to take it and static electricity shocks both of us. We laugh, and the awkwardness around us dissipates, just like that. The warmth of his hand surprises me like always. He seems to be running a constant fever, permanently a few degrees above the rest of us. It doesn't bother me, though. I find comfort in it, and I feel the absence as we are seated and forced to let go.

Not that I expect it to be, but dinner is anything, but boring. Sam assures me not to worry about the prices on the menu, insists that I order anything I want and that he'll take care of it. I don't bother reminding him that this is not a date. As guilty as I feel, there's no sense in pretending that I don't want this to be a date.

At one point, we are asking questions back and forth. It's Sam's idea of a game, an attempt to get to know each other better. The only rule is we're not allowed to ask the same question twice.

"What's your mom like?" he asks on one of his turns.

"In one word? Nosey," I say with a laugh. "She has to know everything about everyone. I'd never tell her, but it's as endearing as it is annoying. She wouldn't be my mom if she wasn't constantly talking and asking questions."

He laughs. "Sounds like you two are close."

"Yeah, we are," I say. I hesitate. "Do you ever feel lonely… living alone, now that your mom is gone?"

Sam nods. "All the time. Honestly, I was excited at the thought of Leah coming to live with me… but not because it was Leah. I mean, yes, we were engaged, but I was mostly happy just because it was another person. I never realized until recently how much I don't like living alone. I guess that's why I jumped at the idea that maybe you could possibly move in. I wouldn't… I mean, yes, part of it is because I like you – but, I would be a perfect gentleman, Emily, I swear."

For a split second I allow myself to consider moving in with Sam. He had promised it would be rent-free, but of course I would find a way to contribute. Even if it meant covering bills and buying groceries and paying for everything, except the mortgage. I could work full time at Harry's store, and save up to go to school just like Sam had proposed last time.

The only downside would be my entire family's thoughts on it, save for Uncle Harry. For reasons I might never understand, he's made it perfectly clear that he would be on my side.

Sam is staring at me. I clear my throat. "Your turn," I say, instead of responding to his speech.

His face falls slightly and a pang shoots through me, but he quickly recovers. I'm not ready to let him know what I'm thinking, though. Especially because I seem to be ready to agree to almost anything right now. And I know it's just hormones.

"You remind me of her," he says, unexpectedly.

"Who? Leah?" I ask, stung.

"No, of course not. I meant my mother. You remind me of her." He smiles. "She also had a perfect poker face."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my heartbeat accelerating.

"I mean, I watch you. All the time. And I try so hard to figure out what you're thinking, but it's impossible. My mom was the same way. Usually I'm good at reading people, but you… you're a mystery." He leans back in his chair and watches me, contemplatively.

"That's probably a good thing," I mumble, my face heating up.

"Why?" he asks, curiously.

I smile, embarrassed, and look away from him. "Because… you might take some things the wrong way." Or the right way.

"Oh, really?" he asks in a whisper. "What sort of things are you thinking about, Emily Young?"

My entire body is on fire now. I look up at him. He's giving me that intent stare that both intrigues and terrifies me.

"Things I shouldn't be," I say, my voice at a whisper, too. I've completely forgotten that we are still in the restaurant. The only thing that exists for me is him - his eyes on me. How much I like it and how much I shouldn't.

"Come on, let's leave," he says next, throwing some money on the table. He's up, quickly, and grabs my hand. I grab my hoodie, but I'm far too hot and bothered to need it. As we step outside, I don't even feel the cold.

We get into the car and drive over to the movie theatre. Unfortunately, we had been talking so long that we've missed the first half hour of it. He asks if I want to wait, and I don't. The only thing I'm interested in is what he's thinking, and if it's anywhere near to what I'm thinking.

We drive back to La Push in silence, but it's an energy-filled silence. I watch him the entire way, and I marvel at how it doesn't seem to faze him at all. If it were me, I'd be too nervous to drive.

Sam drives past the Clearwater's, but I don't say anything. He doesn't look at me. My heart speeds up. What are we about to do?

He parks in front of his own house, and I quickly let myself out of the jeep. I follow him up to his front door, but he doesn't go inside just yet. Instead, he turns around to face me. He still hasn't said a word.

"Was this a date?" he asks, voice cracking slightly.

I stare at him, scared out of my mind. What happens if I say yes? Will he kiss me? And if I say no? Will Leah hate me any less?

He reaches for me, and his hand just barely brushes against my cheek when the door behind us suddenly flies open, startling me out of my skin.

"Hey, Sam!" Jared's gigantic frame fills up the doorway. And just like that, the mood is broken.

"Hey, Jared," Sam says. I took towards him. He seems completely at ease, as if we weren't just interrupted.

"Should I go?" Jared asks, looking between Sam and me.

I fully expect Sam to say yes, and to give Jared back his keys, so that we can get back to what we were doing. But shockingly, he shakes his head without even looking at me.

"Nah, it's cool. We were just going to watch a movie. You can crash here tonight if you want to. It's getting late. Use my phone to call your dad."

I am stunned, unsure of what's happening.

Jared retreats back into the house with a, "Cool, thanks," and Sam takes my hand to pull me inside with him.

"You don't mind, do you? Watching a movie, I mean? I could take you home if you want, but I figured since we missed the movie at the theatre…"

I just stare at him. Was I just alone on that porch? Is he really going to pretend that what just happened, didn't? Well, I guess, technically nothing did happen, but… why is he acting like this? I don't understand.

"Um, it's fine, I guess."

"Cool. Hey, Jared! What movie do you want to watch? You don't mind if he chooses, do you?" Sam asks, running his hand through his hair. "He's picky and it's annoying trying to find something we both agree on, so it's easier to let him do it."

I shake my head. What is going on here?

Jared comes back into the living room a few minutes later, and drops down into the armchair after selecting a raunchy comedy I'm not particularly interested in. Sam sits next to me, but he doesn't put his arm around me, or anything. In fact, it seems like he's doing his best to keep his distance.

After a few seconds, Jared jumps up and goes into the kitchen. We can hear him rummaging around in the refrigerator.

"Sam, why do you never have food?" he jokes, as he comes back into the living room.

Never? How often is he here? I wonder.

"Because someone I know eats me out of house and home," Sam replies, sarcastically. He rolls his eyes.

Jared laughs. "Whatever, I don't eat half as much as you! Three deers, Sam. Three deers."

"Shut up," Sam says, with a sidelong glance at me. "And it's deer, not deers. Deers is not a word."

"Three deer? That doesn't sound right," Jared says, shaking his head.

"Shut up," Sam repeats, glancing at me again.

But he needn't bother. I have no clue what they could possibly be talking about.

"Oh, Emily?" Jared says, with too much familiarity for me to be comfortable with.

"Yes?" I answer.

"I'm sorry about that day. Graduation day. I was in a… really bad mood. Sorry about that," he says sheepishly.

"It's fine," I say, uncomfortably.

"I had no idea who you were," Jared continues. "I mean, if I had known you were Sam's girl, I wouldn't have… well, I shouldn't have anyway, but – "

"Jared," Sam says, his skin darkening in a blush. I blush, too. Sam's girl?

"Sorry," Jared repeats.

I look towards Sam. He's pointedly not looking at me. I feel myself getting irritated now. What is his problem? Is he acting weird because Jared's here?

Before I can think it through, I open my mouth and say, "I'm not Sam's girl. And I think I should go home now."

I don't miss the hurt and surprised look on Sam's face. But really, what does he expect? Jared looks back and forth between the two of us. If he didn't sense the awkwardness before, he sure does now.

"Uh, do you want me to drive you?" Jared asks, as Sam hasn't said anything.

"Sure," I say, quickly. Sam starts to rise, but before he fully gets off the couch, I add, "I had a nice time tonight, Sam. See you tomorrow?"

He sits back down with a resigned look on his face. It's clear that he gets the message. I don't want him to come.

"Yeah… I'll see you," he says, quietly. He looks at Jared and something passes between them that I don't understand. Jared nods, then looks towards me. I follow him out of the house without a backward glance –

- glances over at me for the third time, at least.

"So, um, how was the movie? You guys got back kind of early. I thought you would be out for a lot longer," Jared says in an attempt to make conversation.

"Yeah, we ended up not seeing it," I say.

"Too bad," Jared responds. "I know Sam was looking forward to it. He's been talking about it for the past few days now. He had this whole elaborate date planned…" He laughs.

"Really?" I say, puzzled. "But… he was so casual about it."

"Sam? Casual? No, he's not the spontaneous type. He plans everything," Jared rolls his eyes. "Especially when it comes to you. He fantasizes about the conversations you two will have before you have them."

"You seem to know a lot about him," I say, shifting in my seat. "It's funny. He doesn't seem to be the type to confide so much in someone…" so fast, I want to add. But I don't. It's implied, though I don't know if Jared picks up on it.

He grins. "Well, he's been thinking about you nonstop for the last few…" He suddenly falters, and gives me an uneasy glance. "I mean, well…"

"So you were with him," I say. It's not a question, just a confirmation.

"Yeah, he was helping me out with… some things," he says. "Oh look, we're here." He stops the car and looks at me expectantly, but I won't be persuaded that easily.

"What exactly was so important that he had to miss work?" I ask. I know I'm prying. I know I'm being a gigantic snoop. I know it's none of my business, but I'm dying to be let in on this huge secret.

Jared looks uncomfortable. "I'm not supposed to tell you… I'm sorry."

At this, I'm surprised. "Me, specifically? So Uncle Harry definitely knows, then?"

He is like a deer caught in the headlights, and his silence tells me exactly what I want to know. The only thing that stops me from questioning him further is that I know Sam will find out about this and might possibly be angry with him for talking.

I sigh. "Bye, Jared. Thanks for the ride."

The relief on his face as I climb out of the car would be amusing if I wasn't so frustrated and confused. For such a small place, this town is sure harboring a big secret –

" – secrets. I just don't get it, Mom," I say, twirling the phone cord around my fingers.

"Emily, you can't expect someone to tell you everything about them the moment you meet them. Sometimes a little mystery is necessary."

I sigh. "I know, but it seems like everyone knows except me. And that's frustrating."

"No, what's frustrating you is that this Jared knows. Am I right?" As usual, my mother gets right to the heart of the matter.

"Well… yes that, too. I mean, they barely know each other, but suddenly, Sam disappears for two weeks, he's with Jared all the time, and now they're best friends? It doesn't make any sense, and it bothers me."

My mom laughs a little bit. "Sweetheart, Sam's allowed to have more than one close friend. And he's allowed to pick and choose how close he wants his friends to be. You can complain about it all you want, but Jared isn't going to just go away. So you better figure out how to coexist, and keep those jealous green eyes closed."

As much as I don't want to admit it to myself, the word 'jealous' hits the nail right on the head. I'm extremely jealous of Jared. I wish I wasn't, but I can't seem to help it. Uncle Harry came to me especially and asked me to be a part of Sam's life. As far as I know, no one extended an invitation to Jared. So why is he suddenly Sam's best friend?

Why aren't I?

"Thanks, Mom," I say, as I check the kitchen clock. "I need to get going, so I won't be late for work. I love you."

"Love you, too Emily! Oh, and you should call your brother from time to time. He's the only brother you have, and he loves you, so make sure you guys stay in touch. And your father says hello and he loves you, too!"

"Okay, bye," I hang up, and make a mental note to call Matt tonight or tomorrow.

It doesn't take me long to get to the store. I don't ask Aunt Sue for a ride or anything, but I'm in a hurry to get there and see Sam before he leaves. I want to apologize for how I left the night before.

I breeze through the doors of the store and almost run smack dab into a customer.

"Sorry!" I apologize and the customer just smiles at me and shrugs.

"Hey, Emily," Sam is behind the front counter ringing someone up. I hover until he's alone, but he starts to speak before I get a chance to.

"I wanted to apologize for missing so many days," he says, looking guilty. "I looked at the schedules upstairs, and Harry really had you hustling, so I thought that I'd cover your shift today. And any other day you felt like taking off."

"Oh, Sam, you don't have to do that," I say, but honestly, I'm touched.

"No, I want to. I owe it to you. And besides, I'm sure you could do with a vacation from this place," he says, giving me that tiny smile.

I can't help, but smile back. I've almost forgotten what I came here early for.

"Thank you. That's really nice of you. I wanted to apologize, too, for how I left your house last night," I say, shyly. "It's just… I thought we would be alo – "

"So Sam, where exactly did you want me to move the inanimate bait box to?" I look around, and spot Jared balancing an overlarge box in one hand.

Wait, what?

"Oh, put it on that shelf in the back. I don't think they need to be on display right now. They're more for early fall," Sam answers, turning away from me.

"Since when does Jared work here?" I say, raising my eyebrows.

"He needs something to do after summer school. I figured it was killing two birds with one stone," he says, shrugging.

"So, you gave away my shift?" I ask, feeling my temper rise. "You're not covering it? You just gave it away?"

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. "It's being covered."

"That's not the same thing," I say, fighting the urge to stamp my foot. It's very Leah-esque, but I don't know how else to get my point across.

"I don't see what the difference is," Sam says, quietly.

"The difference is that you would rather work with Jared! And if that's the case, Sam – "

"Wait, Emily, I didn't say that. I never said that." He reaches out to touch my arm, but I pull away before he can make contact.

"I can work my own shifts, actually. I don't need someone who doesn't – I mean, I was doing just fine while you were gone, okay?" I glare at him.

He looks stunned. "I thought… Harry said…"

I cross my arms. "Look, you're already here. He's already here." I motion to Jared. "Just go ahead, but don't – if I feel like I need to take two weeks off, I'll tell you in advance. Then, you can bring in all the extra help you want."

I spin on my heel, and storm off before he can say another word –

- words to him. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sure now he thinks I'm the biggest jerk in the world. And after I had gone over there to apologize.

I let out a huff of laughter. Angry, hurt, embarrassed are only a few of the things I'm feeling at the moment. After I left the store, I walked along the beach for about an hour kicking at the sand. It was freezing, but I felt like I deserved it.

Now I'm holed up in Leah's room. I didn't even bother going downstairs for dinner, and I know everyone is worried about me, but I can't bring myself to care enough.

God, what's wrong with me?

But I already know the answer to that. Sam. He's the answer to everything I'm going through lately. He's making me crazy. In all the wrong ways.

If I feel like I need to take two weeks off, I'll tell you in advance. Then, you can bring in all the extra help you want.

I can't believe I actually said that to him. And in front of Jared, who is probably feeling terrible right about now. I grab Leah's biggest pillow and bury my head under it, wishing I could do the whole summer over. I would have gone on vacation with my parents.

I hear a dog howl outside, and I look at Leah's alarm clock. Who would be walking a dog this time of night? It's like one in the morning. I close my eyes, but the dog howls again.

As if it's trying to keep me awake.

I sigh, sit up, and move over to the window. To my astonishment, I don't see a dog outside. Instead, Sam is standing there, shirtless and shoeless – all of his perfection outlined by the glow of the moon. I don't think it's fair that a man should be that beautiful… and so off limits.

"Hi. Can you come down?" he says in a loud whisper.

I shake my head. "Not without waking Seth. He's a light sleeper and the stairs creak."

Sam nods. "Right. Okay, stand back. I'll come up."

I blink. "What?"

Right before my eyes, Sam somehow scales the side of the house, using vines and the drain pipe, I suppose, because there's certainly no convenient tree there. He sneaks in, ninja-like through the window.

I stare at him in disbelief. "How on earth - ?"

He just gives me his tiny smile and shrugs. And now that he's here, physically in the room with me, I realize the reality of the situation. And I remember that I'm wearing an old, very small tank top of Leah's with no bra, oversized pajama bottoms, and my hair is in a messy French braid. Not exactly my finest moment. I cross my arms over my chest, self-consciously.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, keeping my voice low.

He shrugs again. "I'm not sure. I wanted to see you."

"You saw me from the yard," I say. "If you don't have any reason to be here, you should leave." Although, I'm not sure if I want him to leave. I'm not quite sure why I'm still being a jerk, either. Must be the leftover embarrassment. This is really not like me.

Before he can disguise it, hurt crosses his features, and I feel even worse than I already do.

"I'm sorry I let Jared work your shift," he says.

I blush, red hot. He should not be the one apologizing, here.

"Don't be," I say, quickly. "I overreacted."

Sam shakes his head. "No, you had a right to be upset. I should've asked you first if it was okay."

I sigh, and allow myself to sink down onto the bed. He hesitates, but after a second, sits down next to me. His arm brushes against mine, and a jolt of something heads straight for my center. I choke on a gasp. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice.

"I… I just don't understand you two – your relationship," I say, hesitantly. I don't understand what he has that I don't.

"He's like a brother, in a way," Sam says, after a moment.

"Really?" I ask, skeptically. "From the way Harry talked about you, I thought you didn't have any friends. But, Jared seems to know so much about you…. So much more than I do." I hesitate before adding that last part, but it's necessary, since it's the main reason we're having this conversation – my jealousy over Jared.

Sam turns to me, and seems about to say something when he suddenly tenses, puts a finger to his lips, and slips catlike off the bed. He lays flat on the floor near the window, out of view of the doorway. I stare at him, bewildered, and then half a second later, I hear footsteps in the hallway.

A soft knock sounds at the door. "Emily?" It's Seth. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Seth!" I call. "Are you okay?"

He pauses for a moment. "I can't sleep… I wondered if you wanted to watch a movie, and I thought I heard you talking. Are you on the phone?"

I hate having to lie to him, but I don't really have a choice. "Yes, I was a minute ago. I'm actually pretty sleepy now, though. Maybe we can reschedule the movie?"

He pauses again. "You have the cordless phone?"

"Yes, Seth. I'll probably make another call before I lay down. Don't worry, I'll hang it up before I go to sleep."

"Sure. Night," he says.

"Goodnight," I say, a little impatiently, and then I stay quiet waiting for him to walk away.

I turn to tell Sam it's all clear, but I was so intent on listening for Seth that I didn't realize he had gotten back onto the bed next to me. I gasp at his closeness. His eyes are intent on mine, but something that has been bothering me pops into my head at that exact moment.

"Emily," he says softly.

"Are you gay? Or bisexual?" I blurt out. The look on his face is priceless.

"No?" he says, but it sounds like a question.

"Are you sure?" I press. "It would make a lot of sense. I mean, if that's the big secret, I don't have a problem with it. It's just… that day, when I saw you and Jared in your house – and I didn't mean to barge in, by the way – but look, I support gay rights. I think you should have the right to get married and everything.

"Not saying you should marry Jared, or anything, but I mean, you know Rebecca… Becca Black? I always thought she was gay. She was constantly trying to kiss Leah when we were younger, but she could have just been experimenting. And if that's what you're doing with Jared, then that's cool – "

He laughs, interrupting me. "Emily, I'm not gay."

I stare at him, humiliated. "Are you sure?" I can't help, but ask.

His smile disappears. "Should I prove it to you?" he says, in a voice two octaves lower.

My mouth goes dry. My mind goes blank. I stare at him, wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry, I should've have said that," he says, suddenly. "I should go." But he doesn't move.

I nod, still unable to form words. We stare at each other. Then, he leans forward, causing my heartbeat to skyrocket. His fingers skim across my cheek, and he gently tucks loose strands of my hair behind my ear.

"I really like your hair like this," he whispers.

"It gets messy otherwise," I barely manage to say.

He stares at me a moment longer. Then, before I can figure out what's happening, he pulls me into a tight hug. I gasp. He's so deliciously warm. Being against him like this, so intimate, feels like I've died and gone to heaven. Though, I'm sure the consequences will be closer to hell. I tighten my arms around him, not caring. I never, ever want to let go.

His mouth is next to my ear, his breath causing me to shiver. It's certainly not because of cold.

"It's very difficult, you know… being so… not gay around you," he says, his voice raspy.

He pulls away slightly, turns his head to the side, and presses his lips to my cheek. He doesn't exactly kiss me, but his lips are there.

"Goodnight, Emily," he says against my skin.

I'm frozen, yet I'm drowning in his warmth. I'm an oxymoron. I'm a regular moron. I want him to kiss me. And I'm extremely aware that if I turn my head to face his, our lips will be pressed together. What if I just…? Ever so slowly I start to turn my head.

Without warning, he suddenly pulls away, and I find myself still unable to move. I don't even open my eyes. Was I… really about to kiss Sam?

Was I really about to kiss Sam?

I am absolutely mortified…. Horrified… whichever word fits, I'm it. And I don't know what to do. Because now I know for certain that I can no longer deny it.

No, I am not in love, but I definitely want Sam Uley.

- FadingSlowly