Author's Note: First of all, PLEASE REVIEW! Second of all, I rewrote the last chapter and thirdly, NO! I have not abandoned this story! I'm just really unbelievably crazy busy - I have no free time. I feel like I owe you all an explanation and example as proof but for those of you who don't care; skip the rest of this. Okay, so why am I so slow in updating? Because everyday I wake up at about 6:30am and get to school by 7:00am for play practice and then have my classes; yearbook (I am photo editor) accounting, band, composition 2 (- 12th grade level), composition 2 (- college level/course), calculus, study hall, and mass media. Then I have either work, independent chorus, spanish studies, pep band, family events, competitions, or trips until usually 9:00ish or later every night. By the time I get everything done I get to sleep around midnight to start over the next day. In the midst of all this and in my spare time I fill out college applications, hang out with friends, visit family, do homework, socialize, and research future stuff. For this month I'm involved in FBLA, FFA, NHS, One Act Play, and I'm starting a debate team. All these extra curriculars and classes, btw, take mucho tiempo! I have field trips and piles of homework and it's just been a little nuts. But that's the way I love it. :D Anyways, please understand - and enjoy!

Matthew. Werewolf.

My head was spinning; my thought process was reduced to generating only small sentence fragments and thought bits as it tried to sort itself out.

Didn't hate me. Lied before. Was lying now?

No. Didn't think so, anyway.

Werewolf. Knew he wasn't human. But a werewolf?

"I just - need a minute!" I managed to gasp, and I didn't look at Matthew before I turned away from him. My legs threatened to give out on me, and so I sat down shakily and leaned against a tree for support.

It had begun to rain. I hardly noticed and didn't care.

Werewolf.

Evil. Always assumed he was something good, even with disagreeing ideas. Deep down, I thought...

But Matthew - Werewolf.

Killing.

I started to shake. Had Matthew killed anyone? If he was a werewolf - did that mean that he ate people? What did werewolves eat, anyway?

I remembered Dairy Freeze, how Matthew had ordered hamburgers and water - no cheese.

So they ate meat.

Super Werewolf. A super werewolf that wanted to kill me.

Why wasn't that fact alone sending me running in terror? It should have. But the only thought I had in that department was a sarcastic of course before I was suddenly consumed with thoughts I deemed more worthy of attention.

He must really be werewolf. What other explanation was there? And he was a werewolf that - what - thought we were soul mates? Me, soul mates with a werewolf? With the Matthew that I'd thought I'd sort of known?

Suddenly, I could see it. Me, old; gray-haired, and wrinkled, sitting in front of a fireplace with an elderly Matthew by my side. He would still be celestial in his old age. If werewolves aged. Did they? It seemed to me that somewhere I'd read or heard that they did. They were mostly human, right? And only turned into a wolf when it was a full moon.

Could this 'connection' explain my inexcusable and abnormal obsession with him? Was it just because of that look he'd given me on the first day of school? The look of what I'd instinctively thought to be unconditional love... maybe it had been. And maybe I'd been subconsciously searching for someone to look at me that way my entire life. Or maybe somewhere in me, deep down, I knew that he was my soul mate? Was that what it was to be swept off your feet, to experience love at first sight? That you'd found your soul mate, your other half, the most crucial piece in the puzzle of your life?

But what did that mean, really? That I would always be with Matthew, never feel desire for another guy?

Then I realized; I hadn't felt truly attracted towards any guy since my little crush on Matt.I hadn't even checked other guys out. My desire to do so had evaporated after seeing him for the first time. Of course, look-wise, no other guy came remotely close to comparing.

But that didn't mean I wouldn't ever be attracted to another guy... did it?

I sighed.

The pieces of my shattered heart ached. I didn't want to believe it; didn't want to let him in again - but against my will, I felt myself succumbing.

And then my thoughts returned to the matter of him wanting to kill me. 'Badly'. Strangely and probably stupidly, I didn't much care about that. At least, I didn't care as much as I should have. I mean, he'd saved my life; never endangered it, right?

I knew that if he'd wanted to kill me that badly, he could (and probably would) have already. I'd seen his strength; his speed. He could probably kill me in less than a second if he wanted to.

So why didn't that scare me shit-less? Instead, here I was, relatively calmly accepting it.

And I was more concerned with the fact that this werewolf claimed to be my soul mate. Not necessarily a lover, but a soul mate; he hadn't said he loved me or anything of that sort. Only that he'd imprinted on me - which sounded quite screwy. From what I gathered, he didn't have much of a choice in this relationship, like he was stuck with me, whether he liked it or not. So it wasn't that I was particularly pretty, or that something in my personality had caught his attention and attracted him. Nope. It was just that he suddenly knew he had to end up with me because of some weird mythical connection thing.

He probably wasn't even attracted to me at all. And he undoubtedly didn't love me. I'd hate someone who I was forced to be with for the rest of my life. I'd want my future and who I fell in love with to be my own choice.

But did I have a choice in this?

What would happen to me, if I let Matt in again, and let myself completely and truly love him? Would my feelings ever fizzle out? Would I become sick of him after twenty years? If he left or died - would I be able to move on and find myself another lover?

I instinctively knew that the answer to all of the questions was no. No. I would not ever lose these feelings, I'd never get sick of him; and if he died or left - I'd die inside. No one would ever be able to replace him.

I wasn't used to so much emotion and feeling, and I hated myself for the way my heart was throbbing (thereby adding another emotion!). It felt as if someone had stabbed me again and again in the chest and was trying to rub my wounds with salty, burning, but healing salve.

Of course, then I knew everything and it all fell into place; I was crazy. Really, totally, completely lunatic. I belonged in an insane asylum.

I let out a hysterical bark of laughter and looked around, embarrassed. Nobody was nearby.

My hysteria was instantly covered by a combination of fear, panic, and relief.

Matthew was nowhere to be seen.

My heart pounded even faster than it had been.

"Matthew?" I breathed. I jumped up and spun around, peering through the ever-thickening sheet of falling rain.

There was no sign of him.

I felt exposed, as if my being blind-sided by the rain allowed anyone and everyone else to observe me. And I felt as if one or more people were taking advantage of that and were observing me.

I hurriedly raced towards home, dimly registering my soaked hair and clothes, my squeaky, slippery, and soggy shoes.

I didn't care. There were still more important things on my mind.

I had an entire weekend to sort out my thoughts, many of which were repetitions and other versions of the first thoughts that had gone through my head. After hours of contemplation and memoirs I decided on several things.

First of all, I didn't care. Whatever Matthew was, whatever he had done; I knew that I would never be able to tear myself away from him. I'd let him in. And whatever happened, happened.

I suppose my thought process came from a long-buried mischievous side of me breaking free from the depths of soul. It was what had always gotten me sucked into adventurous books and movies; it was what wanted me to have my own adventure.

Indeed, if I was to let Matt in and believe what he'd said; it would be an adventure. I'd not only be risking my life literally, but figuratively as well - because I'd decided I was going to openly jump into this relationship; knowing all the while that it could end badly but choosing to ignore that little fact.

If I ended up dying, oh well. What else did I have to live for, anyway? It wasn't as if my life was full of meaningful relationships...

Secondly, I'd forgiven Matthew for lying and was going to believe what he'd said.

Thirdly; I had to know if Matt was attracted to me at all. If he even liked me, or felt the need to remain in contact with him an obligation. The relationship must be his choice at all times.

So that covered it, and by the time I got to school early on Monday morning, I was ready to tell him that I was going to accept what he'd said and him in general.