A/N: Long time, no update, I know. I've been busy. I'll try to be more reliable in updating this "masterpiece". (I use that term lightly.) Spot the Mortal Instruments reference and get a cookie!

Chapter Four: I Want To Be Somebody Else

I know that I have to go back. It's unavoidable.

But lucky for me, I don't have to start hurrying up the process.

I sit there, behind that tree, blinking back the things I don't want to remember. I'm not going to remember them, not in a million freaking years. The other guys have their imprints, and I don't. I am all alone, now that he left me, and I'm all the more screwed up for it.

Sam is going to kick your ass. He's mega-pissed right now.

Oh, shit. Quil's in my head right now. I'm not going to deal with it.

Dude, get over it and come back. What the hell were you thinking? You can't ignore me.

Oh, yes I can, I say to myself, knowing that Quil will hear.

I phase quickly. I'm surprisingly not naked, seeing as I remembered before the bar to tie a pair of pants to my leg. Another habit from Jacob.

God, it's like he was my god, or whatever. Completely sick.

I pull up my pants in one quick motion, just as I see a head pop out of pink, frilly curtained room. It's of a girl, curly-haired and looking annoyed. The expression vanishes as soon as she sees me.

"WHAT THE HELL, YOU FREAKING VOYEUR?" She screams as loud as she can. With my super wolf hearing, I can hear her muttering. "Figures I'd be home alone when this happens. Where's the phone, where's the phone?" she mutters frantically.

She's going to call the police. Oh shit. Between the bar incident and this, I am in more trouble than most people experience in a lifetime.

Out of pure instinct, some sane part of me telling not to phase immediately, I shout back at the girl, "Don't kid yourself, sweetheart. Haven't you ever seen a refugee before?"

A REFUGEE? Oh, great. I am so dead. At least she won't shout back. She'll be too afraid of the big, hulking monster that lurks outside in the dark.

Wrong. Dead wrong. I can zero in on the girl and see her squint. Recognition passes over her face. "It's one of you. Those Quileute boys or whatever. God, don't you have your own girls to gawk at on the reservation?"

"Yeah," I shoot back, "Only, most of them are bitches."

She's got a temper, this girl. I notice it as soon as I see the high heeled shoe flying at my head. I duck.

"Ugh!" she screeches.

I can't believe she's not afraid. At all. Maybe she's delusional. Or a psych ward escapee. Either way, I'm amazed.

She even kills my super quick reflexes. Next thing I know, she's ten feet across from me, holding a baseball bat. She looks sort of comical, this curly haired girl in a mini dress, holding a bat. The dress shows off her legs. I try not to look.

"What the hell are you doing, coming out here?"

"Get the fuck off my property, Mr. Jolly Green Giant."

I growl in frustration. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that the nasty things, they come out in the dark?"

The bat comes down on my foot. I wince. Only a makeshift weapon would hurt me nowadays.

"Dude, chill. What is your problem?"

"What is YOUR problem?" the girl fires back. She holds the bat aloft again, ready to strike. "I'm trying to chill, and I catch wind of a Peeping Tom. And don't expect me to buy into the sarcasm crap."

I sigh. "Whatever. Seriously, just chill, girl."

"I have a name, you stupid asshole."

"Please, do enlighten me of it." I cock and eyebrow as the sarcasm spills out.

"Like I'd tell you." She eyes me. "How the hell did you get so huge? And why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

"I'll tell you if you put the bat down and tell me your name."

I shift my stance, trying to look menacing. I don't think it works, because the girl doesn't back down.

She glares at me. "Whatever, you dumbass."

"Number one, it's called puberty. You've heard of that before, haven't you, little girl?"

She scowls. I continue. I'm wondering why she hasn't called the police yet.

"Number two, I don't like shirts. You just got free tickets to the gun show. Be grateful."

The girl narrows her eyes. "Sexist pig."

"I'm waiting for your name, girl," I say, semi-pissed that I'm trapped in this situation. If I leave now, she might call the police. But the longer I stay, the more at risk I put my pack, and herself. She's annoying, this chick, and who knows if I'll phase?

"Fine. It's Jessica. Happy?" She holds the bat menagncingly again, daring me. Under her breath, I hear a, "Bastard."

"I heard that."

Jessica flashes me a sunny smile. One dimple shows in her left check. "Oh, good. I'd hoped you would."

What is with this girl? "So why have you yet to call the police on me?" I ask. "Not that I'm ungrateful. No one wants a concussion, these days."

"That's a threat." She drawls out her words. "And I'm waiting for an explanation as to why you are here."

"What if I choose not to disclose that information?"

She grins, something feral and sharp. The grin looks familiar on the face of Jessica, and déjà vu overwhelms me. "Then I sic the police on your ass, boy." She brings the baseball bat down on my foot again.

Groaning, I rub my foot. Shit, that one hurt. "Seth," I spit out, balancing on one leg while rubbing the other's foot. "It's Seth. And I'm only here because I got tired of dealing with things, so I ran. Yours is the backyard I ended up in."

"Well, aren't you lucky. Aren't your mommy and daddy worrying about you?"

Why do I even bother explaining? Jacob never did. "My mom's the only one I've got, Jessie, dear. And she's too busy worrying over what my sister's going to blow up yet."

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" The baseball bat comes down by her side and props up her right arm. Her dress hikes up a bit. Damn, she's hot. Hot, but infuriating.

"You could. I wouldn't object. Pity parties are seldom a more than one person event, and I'm deciding to cordially invite you."

"Rejection," Jessica spits out. "Seriously, kid, Seth, monster, freak, whatever your name is, just get off my property. I'm in charge right now and I'll let you off the hook, because you're seriously annoying me and I need a break from selfish bastards."

I mock bow, my palms pressed together. "Thank you, master."

The scowl and annoyed look comes back onto her face. "Go," she says.

I obey. Without a second thought, I take off, running in human form. No use risking dealing with the rest of the pack. Plus, I got off the hook. No cops from Jessica, at least.

But then there are those cops of my own.

I do everything by instinct, these days, and when I run past Sam and Emily's house, the Alpha is there, waiting for me. His eyes are hard and his tone is final when he says, "Seth Adlai Elan Clearwater, get over her [i]right[/i] now."

Fuck.