Chapter 22 First time

After Jacob had started to teach me how to drive, my life had been pretty much perfect. I felt almost normal again. Not depressed, not lonely anymore. Only with Hart, things had started to change. The fact of the matter was, he was seventeen years old. He wasn't pressuring me to do anything, of course not, but I knew what he wanted. Eventually, I would end up giving it to him. And I was right.

Oh, calm down. Not that. Like I would go all the way with a guy at fourteen. How small town do you think I am? Second base, maybe. PG thirteen stuff. We were at Hart's house, which was mercifully empty. We were going at it on his bed. His shirt was off, and his hands were up mine.

Let me tell you something about tonsil hockey. It has got to be with the right person. I don't mean that it has to be True Love, or anything like that. I couldn't care less about his personality. I mean that the style has to be right. Because frenching Hart? Not so fun. Like, my body did not get all tingly whenever he touched it. I didn't see fireworks. Spots, maybe, from lack of air, but no fireworks. He had his face jammed right up against mine, and he kept jamming his tongue down my throat. And biting my lips. I swear, it was like he was eating my face. Kind of disgusting, to be honest.

And, to top it all off, I couldn't keep my mind on him. When you kiss, I'd always thought that your thoughts are supposed to go all fuzzy. I had no fuzz. Instead, I kept being reminded of the wolves. Actually, just Embry. He'd never liked to hear about my opinion when it came to guys. Very protective. It had been annoying. And instead of thinking about Hart right now, I was thinking about how pissed off this would make Embry.

Suddenly, Hart broke away from me, pulling back to look at me, a look of utter disbelief on his face. "Who's Embry?" He demanded.

"What?" I asked.

"We were kissing, and you went, 'Embry'. Who is he?"

Crap. I'd said it out loud.

"Erm…" I bit my lip, trying to figure out how to put what I wanted to say. "He's…just this guy…."

"Oh my God." Hart said hoarsely. "You're with him, aren't you? You're cheating on me."

Exactly the conclusion I'd been afraid he would come to. "No! Listen, he's just-"

"Don't lie to me, Cathryn," Hart's eyes narrowed.

"I'm not-"

WHAM.

Hart's fist connected with my jaw, the movement so quick that I barley had time to register it. The force was so great that it sent me flying off the bed and into the bedside table. I hit my mouth on it, and I tasted blood.

I was still for a moment, staring up at his shaking frame in shock. In that moment, I was reminded again of the wolves. They shook almost exactly like that when they were about to phase. Only, in the one incident when I'd gotten to see their transformation, I hadn't been afraid. Disbelieving, yes. Angry, yes. Hurt, yes. Scared? No. And I was very scared now.

Yep. I admit it. I was afraid of my boyfriend. You would have been too, though, if you'd seen him. I'd never seen him look like that before. His whole face was dark, menacing. His eyes were narrowed into tiny slits. A vein was pulsing in his forehead. There was certainly nothing handsome about him now.

Then what was I doing here?

I got up quickly, pushing past Hart and running through the front door. When I was out, though, I didn't stop. I ran past the Ateara's house and the store and the beach and lots of other places I didn't recognize. I ran fast, faster than I ever had in my life. Like I was flying. So fast that my lungs were bursting in only a matter of seconds, and I tripped more than once. But it wasn't fast enough.

See, I don't know about you, but there are just some things in this world that I would prefer to be an idiot about. That I would like to just ignore, to walk away from, to leave them behind like they're just some unpleasant memory that happened ages ago. Even if they are still happening. And I'd been an idiot about a lot of things lately.

Now, all of them were catching up to me. And no matter how fast I ran, how hard I concentrated on the wind whistling in my ears or my hair dancing behind me, I was going to have to face them. Each one hit me much harder than the blow I'd taken from Hart.

Leslie. She was one friend who was truly just an innocent bystander in all of this. And I'd clumped her over with all the liars, all the cheaters, trying to start over in a part of my life that was already perfect.

Claire. Okay, maybe she knew. But she was in kindergarden. I was shunning a five year old. How mature was that? Plus, babysitting her had been my main income for awhile now, and I was burning quite a few holes in my wallet by ignoring her and her sister.

Keilly. Emily. Two of the sweetest people I'd ever met. Not only that, but they'd been kick ass enough that they'd found out about what their boyfriends were, and they didn't even care. They defied nature. How wicked awesome was that? I should fully worship the ground they walked on, not hate them.

Seth. Brady. Jacob. Drew. Quil. Sam and Leah and Paul and all the rest of them. Duh, they hadn't told me what they were. They were werewolves. Creatures of myths. Only, you know, way different. Hollywood should totally have gotten their facts straight before making a bunch of movies about them. So of course they weren't going to tell me. I'd have turned them all in to a mental institution! Which was where I probably belonged.

I should fully be on my knees, begging theses people's forgiveness! Instead, I'd been mean. Close minded. Petty. Stupid. And flirting around with….

Hart. This one didn't hit me like a punch. More like a slap. A much deserved slap in the face. He'd been the one person I willingly talked to for months. I'd been the angel that nursed his wounds when his father beat the crap out of him. Okay, maybe not an angel, but you get my point. We'd been so close. And he was a monster. Not like the others. A monster in a different sense, in a much worse one. The kind that damaged people. The kind that I was.

Oh, God.

Embry. This blow hit me with so much force that I staggered to a stop, breathing heavily, from guilt as much as exertion. He'd been so sweet, so selfless, when it came to me. The guy was my chauffer, for lord's sake. And a twenty year old smoking hot guy has better things to do in the morning than take a middle schooler to class. Like sleep off a hangover.

I closed my eyes and pictured his face. The way he'd looked at me that night I'd found out and asked me if I was okay. There was concern written all over it. Concern and …something else. Something I could never identify. Because it was always there on his features whenever I saw him. Concealed, carefully under wraps, but big. And definitely there.

A huge clap of thunder sounded overhead. I snapped out of my haze and was startled to see that it was raining. And had been for awhile, if the wetness of my hair and clothes was of any indication. I shivered and looked around, trying to figure out where I was. Still a good three miles from my house. I would never make it.

I looked around. I was going to need a place to crash until the storm blew over.

Starbucks. Ahhh, my saving grace. I made a beeline for the welcoming building, pulling my hood over my head as I did so. If I kept my head down, maybe so one would see the bruise that I was sure was appearing on my face.

"Do not come again," I heard the cashier say to a customer, who snatched up his coffee and headed for a table, scowling.

I stepped up to the counter. "What do you want?" She asked me savagely.

"Caramel Frapichino," I told her, mirroring her tone.

She mumbled something threatening and got to work with my drink. Slowly. Her movements were so sluggish that a part of me wondered if maybe she was having an even worse day than my own.

But that was a very small part.

"Would it kill you to go any faster?" I asked irritably.

"Yes!" She snapped back.

Finally, though, she handed me my coffee. "Took you long enough." I told her, grudgingly forking over a few dollars. I started to go find a table.

"Hey! Wait up!" The girl calls, coming around the back of the counter and grabbing my arm.

I glared at her, pulling on her grip. But she wouldn't let me go. "What? Did I forget your tip?" I asked her sarcastically.

"Yeah, actually, you did," She retorted. "What's your name?"

Like I was going to tell her that. "What are you going to do, call the police?"

"I might. But I think I know you."

Now that wasn't something I was expecting to hear. I stopped tugging at my arm and looked her up and down. She was about a head shorter than me, and more sturdily built, with more to put in a bra than I had ever even thought about having. Her dark hair was chopped short under her Starbucks hat. She was also whearing an apron that was much too big for her, but I could see a pair of brightly colored converse sticking out from under the fabric. Not unlike my own.

I was the converse that did it.

Cocoa. I hadn't recognized her before without the gell she usually put in her hair to make it stand wildly in spikes all around her head, or all the goth make up. She looked almost normal.

That didn't mean I was going to talk to her though.

"Just get out of my way." I yanked one more time, and this time she released me. I was out the door and hallway down the street in two seconds. The rain had, miraculously, stopped.

"Hey, you're Cathryn, right?" She called after me. I ignored her.

"Come on!" She yelled, following me now. "Embry's not that bad!"

I whirled around and gazed at her disbelievingly. "What did you say?" I asked her.

"I know all about your little problem." She told me. " It's no big deal."

Now, as I'm sure you've already figured out, I am not a patient person. Nor am I understanding. Or empathetic, or forgiving, or any of it. Unless you are a little kid or a puppy, I'm pretty much not a nice person. And I'd reached the end of my rope.

"How do you know about that?!" I demanded. "And it's not a little problem!"

I didn't wait for an answer. Instead, I turned around and walked briskly towards my road.

But she followed me. Again.

"Of course I know about that!" She panted, as fast-walking for me was jogging for her. "I hang out with the wolves all the time! Collin's my best friend."

I may have been angry with Leslie, but I was very quickly getting over it, and I wasn't sure that Embry's denial of Collin and Cocoa's more-than-friendship was entirely reliable. "You're boyfriend?" I asked her.

"Whoa! My best friend." She told me.

"So you don't care that your best friend is a giant dog?" I asked her doubtfully.

"Um, no. I like him better when he's a dog."

Good Grief. All these human girls, none of them cared at all that the guys were wolves. Even this Cocoa brat was making me look bad.

"Well I hope those giant dogs eat you!" I spat.

I sped up, turning off the road and into the woods. I still wasn't ready to go home. I needed to clear my head.