chapter 7: thunderstruck
don't know what to say
one look and then you blew me away
I'm spiraling all over the place
so lifted, got me reaching for grace
body off the ground
caught me by surprise
like seeing shooting stars in the sky
there's danger in the dark of your eyes
but something 'bout you breathes me to life
got me here and now…
Junior year grew more unusual as the days passed.
A whole cloud of strangeness encompassed the tiny, green region of La Push and Forks now—so much that Leah had to compartmentalize all the weird elements before they'd become too distracting in her mind. Sunday dinners didn't make it any easier. The exchange of current events between her family and Billy's used to center sports, work drama, and petty gossip. Now, local news took center stage—Clallam County had never been this eventful in Leah's entire lifetime.
Tonight, they discussed Waylon Forge, an officer in the Forks Police Department and Charlie's buddy of almost thirty years. Days ago, his body had been found in his boat, drained of all his blood. The officers who found him had thrown up at the sight. The Forks Forum newspaper reported that he had been mauled in an animal attack. This had been the third animal attack in the area this year, and March hadn't even come around yet.
Leah noticed the marginal amount of space at Billy's dining table, where Charlie would have sat had he actually shown up tonight. He'd already stopped attending Sunday night dinners back in January to spend more time at home with his daughter, Bella. Then, after the news of Waylon's death, he'd stopped calling the Clearwaters altogether. Harry chalked it up to him being a hermit while Sue attributed it to something that might warrant a trip to Forks for a wellness check.
Leah also had to force herself to not think about how prickly Billy's demeanor had become in the wake of the Cullen family moving to town last summer. She still didn't get his deal with that family—she only knew that the older man's paranoid outbursts annoyed and embarrassed Jacob. She could only offer the kid sympathetic glances from across the table.
She brought it up to Sam as they walked to her house after dinner. Usually, talk of the Cullen family didn't leave that house, being the only place where anybody would humor Billy about it, but Billy's comments stuck with her tonight. The mild weather made for a pleasant enough walk, so she got some alone time with Sam as he took her home. The streetlights on the hill leading up to her house still didn't work properly, so he illuminated the sidewalk with her flashlight as they trekked through the lightly sprinkling rain.
"I just don't get why Billy cares at all," Leah admitted in the near total darkness, clutching his hand. "I mean, he's freaking out for no reason. I've never seen or heard of any of the Cullens hanging around La Push, and everybody knows everybody's dirt around here."
Sam's talk of the Cullens did nothing but validate Billy's suspicions—he never had much to say about them, but, when he did, he made them sound like an urban legend.
He lowered his voice, as if merely speaking of the local family of Boogeymen would summon them. "The Cullens don't come here," he told her, his voice steely.
She glanced up at him. "And what does that have to do with Billy?"
"I couldn't even tell you what his deal is," he confessed. "But he's… it's like he's waiting for something."
"As in…?" she prompted him.
"I wish I could tell you. He's been checking in with me a lot lately, calling my mom and shit," he explained. "Old Quil's been doing the same thing too. It's getting kinda strange."
"Lots of things have been strange lately," Leah quietly agreed, reflecting on what Rachel had said as she'd vacated Forks last summer. She peered at him with knit brows and concerned eyes. "Are you okay, though? For real?"
He held her hand even tighter, and she could see his smile in the dark. "I'm with you—of course I'm okay."
She wanted to believe him, and he did a good job convincing her (for the most part). But Leah knew that Sam had never felt this warm to the touch prior to January. He now spent his days swearing up and down to her that he felt fine. She couldn't forget how her skin burned whenever he caressed her with his strong yet careful hands. Perhaps he thought he could distract her with his fatal combination of boyish charm, decent sense of humor (though she would die before ever calling him funnier than her), propensity to small romantic gestures, and newfound muscles. She hated to admit that it worked most of the time.
Something about their near breakup back in January had reset Leah's feelings for Sam. She felt more in tune with him physically, emotionally, maybe even spiritually, and every other adverb that came to mind. Sam's mom had accused them of being inseparable—as much as they tried, they couldn't deny it.
Still, Harry's levels of apprehension had shot up since Sam had gotten sick about two months ago, and he kept a much closer eye on the now eighteen-year-old. Leah had determined that Billy's spiky disposition made it easier for him to leave thorns in Harry lately. She also credited it to him simply being an overprotective dad of a teenage girl with a boyfriend, but his long-earned rapport with Sam didn't match his cautiousness.
Harry had gotten to know Sam through countless fish fry nights with Billy and UNO games with Seth and fishing trips with Charlie. He had sat down and had a thousand talks with the guy. He had welcomed him into his life with open arms and cared for him like his own son.
She could only wonder what had changed.
Maybe it had to do with Leah and Sam being especially close lately, but they hadn't exactly kept that a secret. Harry had always been the more laidback one of Leah's parents, with Sue worrying enough for the both of them. But Sue's worries always came with an overwhelming sense of preparedness that manifested into casual prying, which had resulted in Leah now possessing a collection of condoms that she and Sam still hadn't gotten enough alone time to really use yet.
Regardless, Harry seemed more avoidant in his watchfulness, observing from a slight distance. He didn't seem afraid of Sam, but Leah sensed that a fear of something else still lingered. He must have been waiting for something, like Billy did, but Harry had always been so cool and calm… Merely thinking about what changed gave her goosebumps.
Sam let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her, and, as he brushed up against her, the goosebumps disappeared.
Thankfully, Leah had bigger issues to worry about than her father's unfounded fears, such as basketball.
She dashed down the gym floor with thunder in her ears. As the other players on the court sprinted behind her in an attempt to keep up, she didn't pay them any mind. Somewhere among all the rumbling, she detected the sounds of sneakers squeaking and the crowd chanting her name, but she'd gotten used to all the distractions by this point, so none of it fazed her as she kept a laser focus on the basket. If anything, she played better with all eyes on her. Attention resulted in pressure, but she reminded herself that pressure made diamonds.
Forks High's varsity team finally put up enough of a fight to make it to the playoffs this year, but Leah's team at QTS had also made it to the playoffs. They'd spent long hours preparing to defeat them on their own turf tonight. That didn't stop their supporters from showing up, though, as Forks High's student body filled the home team's stands—a sea of palefaces. Every now and then, Leah would turn to the other set of bleachers and find Sam's face in the crowd. He stood beside Sue, Seth, and Emily, waving a poster with her name and jersey number on it that he'd stayed up late last night to finish painting. He always called her his number-one, but being reminded of it with a big poster almost threw her off her game.
Now's not the time to get sentimental.
The second Friday in March had arrived, as well as the last school day before spring break. Tonight's game featured a lot of starting and stopping, with enough fight from both sides to keep them neck and neck the entire game. This quarter alone—the final one—had warranted twenty-six points each between the teams, leaving them tied. Only twelve seconds remained on the clock, and if QTS didn't have their secret weapon, they'd have to go into overtime.
Too bad for them.
Leah stole the ball from one of the power forwards on Forks' team who'd mistakenly brought her arms up in a rebound a hair too late. She then darted in the other direction like a bolt of lightning. She dribbled the ball hard and fast to her team's basket like she'd practiced all season. Every last sore muscle she'd have to ice, every last scrimmage leaving her drenched in sweat, every last suicide she ran on Saturday mornings alongside her teammates, and every last Sunday shooting session with Kim in the freezing cold at First Beach had all culminated in this exact moment.
Kim appeared in the corner of Leah's left eye, her bright pink Nikes pounding against the court as she dashed like a cheetah. She motioned with her right hand to Leah, clicking the nails of her ring finger and thumb together like they'd practiced together only a hundred times over at the court at the beach, the court with weeds growing from the cracked pavement and rickety chain baskets instead of clean nets. To Leah's right, the starting center for Forks who'd fouled on her three times in the second quarter alone ran down the court in an attempt to block her. The thunder only grew as all the other girls finally met up with them at the end of the court.
Leah dribbled in front of the Forks center, staring at the whitehead sitting right between her dark blonde eyebrows, and quickly mirrored the motion to Kim with her left hand before thrusting her arms out to pass the ball to her without breaking her gaze from the Forks girl's forehead. From just outside the three pointer line, Kim shot the ball and took the winning shot as the Forks High point guard finally got to her a moment too late.
And, like they'd practiced at First Beach, the ball sank into the net with a resounding swish. It happened right as the buzzer went off, signaling the end of the game, and the visiting crowd exploded with cheer.
Immediately after the teams walked down a line in the gym high-fiving each other out of customary sportsmanship, the La Push students swarmed the gym floor to congratulate the team, cheering and hollering. Leah had never felt more triumphant. Sam collided with her in the middle of the court with a tight embrace, having dropped his poster somewhere among the bleachers. She didn't even care that she'd gotten sweaty and smelly; she wanted nothing more than to have him close.
In his arms, she briefly wondered if she would still feel this euphoric if her team hadn't won. But, as she captured the glorious moment in her mind, she decided that none of that mattered. She wouldn't have the displeasure of finding out.
It didn't take long for the glory of beating Forks High to wear off. Waking up in a sweaty disarray the following morning quickly reminded Leah that she had something seriously wrong occurring in her brain. While gasping for air and frantically locating her flashlight, she'd knocked over the glass of water that Harry had left on her nightstand. All of its contents leaked over the little table, flooding her alarm clock, tubes of chapstick, and loose pairs of earrings. The water continued trickling onto the carpet, where her cloud comforter and one of her pillows had ended up in the midst of her freakout. The far corners of her fitted sheet had lifted, crumpling up under her thighs. By the time she scanned every wall and every corner with her flashlight, her bedroom looked like a hurricane had ripped through it. Just another typical Friday night.
She'd beaten the sun this morning, as per usual; the sky appeared almost as dark as night, but with a slight blue tint, when she peered through her cracked blinds. The alarm clock read 5:32AM. Several minutes left until sunrise. The days had started getting longer not too long ago, so at least she could look forward to that.
She bolted herself up and scooted back towards the wall now as she caught her breath. Her eyes found the lime-green nightlight plugged into the wall, still illuminated. It hadn't died, causing her to thank anyone's god for listening to her; it would've been a real-life tragedy if it did since Leah had acquired it only a couple months ago.
She couldn't bring herself to throw away the special Spider-Man nightlight Sam had gifted her the night they'd gone official, just a little over two years ago, but it didn't serve its purpose anymore. That light had burned out once and for all a while ago. For now, it remained perfectly useless inside a sacred cardboard box in the corner of her closet, tucked behind sweaters and pairs of jeans—the Sam box. As a physical representation of her heart (and as admittedly corny as that sounded), that box held several other precious keepsakes she associated with her personal heartthrob.
Leah climbed out of bed to turn on the ceiling light before collecting her bedding from the floor and fixing her sheet. As her normal-brained family members continued snoozing elsewhere in the house, she tiptoed through down the hallway to grab a towel from the laundry room. She then returned to the miniature evacuation zone, where she collected her chapsticks and earrings.
Wiping the bottom of her alarm clock, she expressed gratitude that she hadn't broken it. She didn't even get why she held onto the device at all since it never woke her up; it merely served as decoration. Maybe someday she'd stop holding out for her brain to function normally and finally throw the clock out, but that wouldn't be today.
She'd made it to spring break, but she couldn't even receive the relaxation it had promised. With no chance of falling back asleep, she stretched out her stiff limbs and quickly got dressed to go on her morning run. The monotony of lacing up her muddy running shoes forced her into a realization: The pride of excelling at what she did best couldn't permanently heal the aberrant components of her brain. She lived and breathed the sport, having played it since she could run, but it meant nothing if her body and mind couldn't reach an agreement. No matter how many games she won, no matter her status as the best athlete at her school or even all of Clallam County, something as natural as the dark left her utterly debilitated.
Who the hell was I kidding, anyway? she thought. I shouldn't have expected anything different.
"Babe," Emily said to Joseph, her tone stern yet sweet. "I thought we decided on the new Will Smith movie."
Joseph absentmindedly fiddled with the puka shells hanging from his necklace. He licked his lips—another habit of his. "I don't know if I wanna see that one. You know I don't like romance movies."
"It's a romantic comedy," she asserted.
"Same difference, babe."
Sunday afternoon had rolled around, and while listening to Emily and Joseph's banter certainly beat shuffling menus and fake-smiling back at the patronizing grown men who visited Cora's, Leah would rather be almost anywhere else on Earth but here. As she sat in one of the back corner booths of the downtown Forks Pacific Pizza shop, listening to Emily and Joseph go back and forth over which movie to catch in Port Angeles later, she once again wished Sam could read her mind.
Get me the hell OUT of here, she attempted to urge him telepathically, sitting right across from him in the booth.
"I just thought you don't care which movie we see, Joseph," Emily went on.
"I mean, I don't care," Joseph agreed.
"Then why can't we go see Hitch?"
"I just don't wanna see that one, Em."
"But you'd rather see Boogeyman?"
"Hell yeah. It got better reviews too."
Emily narrowed her eyes at him. "Babe, why can't we just see Hitch? You know I've been talking about seeing it for weeks now. It's like you don't even listen to me."
"See, you're always accusing me of not listening to you!" He quickly lowered his voice. "That's the third time today, babe." His use of the pet name sounded like an expletive.
"Well, maybe if you actually listened…" Emily said through her teeth.
Not this again. Leah sighed and glanced at Sam, who sat across from her in the booth. Her irritated expression combined with the pizza crusts and pepperoni scraps that had been sitting on the circular pan sitting in the middle of the table for thirty-five minutes left them with one choice: they had to go.
"What do you think, Lee?" Emily suddenly asked her.
I think I don't give a shit. She struggled to find the right response.
"Don't we have to return that DVD to Blockbuster?" Sam prompted her.
"Right," Leah replied to him with a nod. "And we gotta go to the store for my parents, so we better get over there before the storm starts. It's supposed to start raining real bad in La Push later."
"What, you guys are bailing?" Joseph asked Sam and Leah. "We were about to go to the movies."
"Oh, we're going," Emily corrected him. She looked at Leah now with subtly raised eyebrows. "Have fun with grocery shopping or whatever."
Leah set her cut of the tab on the table before zipping her wallet shut and throwing it into her backpack. "And you guys have fun seeing Hitch or Boogeyman or whatever. Bye!"
While Emily and Joseph still bickered over which movie to see, Leah took Sam's hand, and they made their escape.
Sam got the brilliant idea to grab slushies, and Leah didn't object to it. The grocery store could wait; the couple couldn't. As they ditched town, they patronized Forks' only gas station on the way out to buy two large cherry slushies, extra icy. The sacred drinks had only melted the slightest bit by the time they made it to their secluded spot on First Beach, near a trail leading to the cliffs. It didn't seem as private as their spot near the Third Beach trail, but nobody would be heading out in this direction anyway, with the thunderstorm incoming. First Beach had better views, too.
"Thanks for getting us outta there, babe," Leah said in her best impression of Emily, in between sips of sugary ice. She and Sam now reclined in the backseat of his Subaru, having pushed the driver and passenger seats as far forward as they could go. One of Sam's many CDs played on the stereo, quiet enough to be background noise but loud enough for her to make out the lyrics.
"No problem, babe," Sam replied in his best impression of Joseph. "You know, babe, I'm starting to think they argue just to argue."
Leah raised her tongue to the roof of her mouth, fighting off the cherry-flavored brain freeze. "Then you're late," she said after a moment. "Their fake-arguments are pretty much foreplay at this point."
He laughed. "And how do you know that?"
"Because it's true," she asserted. "See, what's gonna happen is they're gonna end up watching Hitch because they always do what Em wants to do, Joseph's gonna be fake-annoyed about it the whole time, they'll smash and make up sometime later tonight, and then they'll find something else to fake-argue about tomorrow. It's their love language."
Sam looked playfully impressed. "You girls talk about everything. Joseph doesn't say shit to me."
"Please," Leah said as she rolled her eyes. "Be serious. Guys are gross, so I'm sure he gives you all the dirty details."
"Okay, I'll tell you this much," Sam began, brushing away a strand of hair from her eyelashes. "He sure as hell doesn't talk about love languages when he gives me the play-by-play."
"Yeah, well, that's boys for ya. Emily psychoanalyzes anything and everything when it comes to Joseph."
"At least we didn't go fake-watch that movie with them so you could get a break."
"You made the right call," she admitted, "'cause I was about to scream."
His right hand, placed so naturally on her thigh, burned through her leggings. His lips twisted into a warm half-smile. "I've always got you, Lee-Lee."
She never doubted him, not even for a second.
It had been drizzling all afternoon, as it routinely did in this corner of the world, but the storm clouds had promptly begun to roll over La Push now, darkening the sky and turning the rain into a downpour over their escapade.
Sam leaned forward to turn up the music and set down his half-finished slushie in one of the cup holders. Leah set hers in the other cup holder and cozied into him. She failed to recall a time when she hadn't felt this comfortable with him. In the last few months, she'd gotten over her timidness when it came to showing him affection. Through several heart-to-hearts and saying I love you back whenever they hung up the phone, she had let the corny romantic in her take over. She didn't care about who said or did something first anymore; she had finally stopped keeping score. The conscious decision had been a major feat for Leah, since she didn't have the best track record for letting things go easily, but every blissful moment with Sam made it all worth it.
Her lips found one of her favorite places on him—the freckle where his jaw met his throat—and she planted a slow kiss. He shuddered underneath her for a moment before returning the affection by meeting his lips to hers, like she expected. They understood each other down to a science. Moments like this often had Leah thinking that she and Sam existed as the last two people among the cosmos. The way they orbited each other convinced her that they had an innate, untouchable connection.
A crack of lightning struck down just above the water, briefly illuminating the dark gray sky. Thunder bellowed even louder than before, shaking the car. Leah didn't mind it. Along with the chaotic weather, every white lie they'd recited to her parents, every instance she had to use her cousin as an alibi, and every trivial rule of his workplace that Sam had broken lost all relevance whenever they connected. Inseparable didn't even cover it.
In this space, parked near the bottom of the cliffs of First Beach and wrapped in Sam's embrace, the rational part of Leah's brain had packed up and taken off for someplace else. She only had regard for Sam, his masterful hands and lips, and getting even closer to him.
Some of the peculiarity crept up from the shadows of her mind now, as she and Sam twisted into one frenzied, half-naked shape in the backseat. Despite the questions that lingered, she knew right here, in the immediate present, in this moment somewhere far away from Earth, that she loved him.
She briefly pulled back to breathe, but the way he looked at her still blew her away. Whenever his gaze met hers, she didn't have to wonder how felt about her or question the verity of those feelings—she already knew. So she shut her eyes and lost herself in him again.
The thunder had grown louder and more frequent as time progressed, outpacing the lightning. Since Leah had been pulling A's and B's all semester in her Physics course, she knew for a fact that thunder couldn't occur without lightning, but she didn't think about it too hard. Sam's touches didn't allow her to waste time pondering anything else.
She hadn't kept track of how much time they'd spent off Earth, but, as she caught her breath once again, she watched his eyes slowly open. He looked past her this time, his eyes falling on the dashboard clock. He lazily pulled away, but they still remained close. "Almost six-thirty," he murmured, his skillful hands still gripping her waist, tracing circles on her skin with his thumbs. "Damn, you know how to make time fly."
She glanced at the clock herself, reluctant to face reality, and then back to him. "That's all you."
His lips pulled into a smile, and he kissed her slowly, as if time stayed on their side.
Blockbuster would close at seven, and their reason for escape had been a valid one—Sue really had sent them off with their rented copy of Alien vs. Predator to return to the store; they had merely taken a detour.
She pulled away now to grab the faded hoodie sweatshirt (that she'd stolen from his closet last summer) off the front seat. "Think we can make it?"
"Just barely," Sam replied, readjusting his own clothes to appear less disheveled. "Folks here can't drive as it is, but I'll take my chances."
"We still need to go to the Thriftway," Leah reminded him, slipping on the hoodie over her tank top and untucking her ponytail. "My mom won't let me hear the end of it if we forget."
Again, he brushed a flyaway hair from her lashes—he must have had a good eye for details, Leah decided. Or he looked at her eyes more than she even knew.
"Then we better get going," he said.
Crashing back down to Earth, they pushed the front seats back so they could cool off from the intense makeout session and head back to town.
Sam drove to Forks at a cautious, responsible pace—somewhat reminiscent of their first date, except he now had the confidence to not hit the brakes as much. The rain had subsided to the usual drizzle.
Leah and Sam slowly rolled into town and the sleepy Sunday traffic, and, as his CD played on the stereo, her gaze fell somewhere out the window. They crossed the border between La Push and Forks, her eyes looking out at the foggy greenery. She could've sworn she spotted a blur of fiery orange among the trees but it vanished as soon as she blinked.
Forks looked as busy as it usually did on a late Sunday afternoon—not very. Sam pulled his old Subaru up to the only stoplight in town. They approached the yellow light, turning red as the front bumper hovered over the painted white line on the bumpy pavement. Sam hit the brakes, utilizing the stop to reach into his glove compartment for a new CD. The one currently playing had a habit of skipping during track ten.
Leah glanced at the clock. They had five minutes until Blockbuster closed and she'd completely lost track of the DVD. "Where'd we put the movie?" she asked him.
"It might've slipped under my seat."
She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned around to lean out of the passenger seat, feeling the ground for the misplaced DVD. "Found it!"
Leah glanced back up, and, through the Subaru's rear windshield, the bright white lights of a giant silver Jeep hurtled towards Sam's car. Going at least three times the legal speed limit, the Jeep made a beeline for the Subaru's rear bumper with no intention of stopping.
The lights had grown even closer by the time she heard Sam yell, "Leah, watch out!"
He pulled her back into her seat by the waist as he made a hard right turn with the steering wheel, rocking the Subaru halfway up the curb and dumping all of the contents of the glove compartment to Leah's feet.
But, just as Sam's car met the curb, the Jeep veered into the left lane and zoomed past them, its tires screeching on the wet pavement as it ran through the red light. A black Mercedes with darkly tinted windows trailed right behind it. Leah had caught sight of that Mercedes around town a handful of times, but she couldn't match it to any faces.
As if that mattered now, anyway. She didn't hesitate to roll down her window and stick her head out. "Dickheads!" she shrieked in their direction.
"They're too far gone to hear you now," Sam said, carefully turning the wheel in the other direction.
"Yeah, no shit." She rolled the window back up and slumped into the seat. "They still could've killed us."
The light turned green, but Sam didn't proceed. On a slow day like this, nobody waited behind him. "You okay, Lee-Lee?" he asked her with earnest eyes.
Her heart rate indicated anything but being okay. "Let's just get this DVD back to the store, yeah?"
They'd made it to the local Blockbuster right before it closed, where Leah sprinted out of the car to return Alien vs. Predator before Sue's account could be hit with a late fee. The movie hadn't been worth a potential rundown by some random asshole, in the end.
Leah and Sam also made a quick trip to the Thriftway to pick up the short list of groceries her parents had provided them. As someone who spent way too much time at work, Sam located everything they needed moments after they'd walked in. Focused and efficient, he even avoided his talkative manager.
"Owen means well," he told Leah once they departed the store, grocery bags in hand. "The guy just can't stop freaking talking."
The rain picked up where it'd left off during the drive back to La Push. The streets of the rez had turned into rivers, running wide and fast. When it rained around here, it flooded; Leah always found herself wishing that the rez had a better drainage system.
The Clearwater residence smelled faintly of Pine-Sol and roasted garlic when the two of them made it back, having escaped the rain.
"There you guys are," Harry said. "I was wondering if you'd ever make it back."
"We weren't gone that long, were we?" Leah asked Sam with raised eyebrows.
"Nah, we weren't," he agreed. "But there was some traffic. You know drivers here."
Sue side-eyed the teenagers, but her expression softened when Sam set the bags of groceries on the kitchen counter. "Appreciate you, sweetie," she told him.
"No problem," he said to her, smiling earnestly.
While her parents chatted up Sam, Leah entered her bathroom to cool her face with splashes of water. Her parents loving her boyfriend that much managed to be both cute and mildly nauseating. Over the last few months alone, she had become convinced that her parents liked Sam way more than they liked her. But she understood the appeal in someone as amiable, practical, dependable, and attitude-free as him.
While waiting for Sue and Harry to finish cooking dinner with new groceries, Leah and Sam escaped to her bedroom. They shared her earbuds to listen to a CD together while the door remained slightly cracked (per her parents' request).
Sometime in the middle of the tracklist and stealthy kisses, Sam asked her in a hushed voice, "You sure you don't wanna come over later? I'll be home alone all night without you."
"It's not that I don't want to," she whispered. "It's that I'll be in so much trouble if I get caught. I'm not trying to die an early death—at least, before I graduate."
He smiled against her lips. "Then don't get caught."
"Maybe I can sneak out," she offered, her face turning hot once she took in his suggestive expression. "But it'd be hella late."
"I'll be up waiting for you," he promised.
Leah suddenly heard a knock on her bedroom door. "Yeah?" she called. Sam briskly scooted a foot away from her on the bed.
Seth slowly opened the door all the way, his left palm shielding his own eyes. "Dinner's ready," he informed them. "Billy and Jake are here."
Leah stood up from her bed, rolling her eyes at the dramatics in an effort to save face. "The door's been open all this time, you know. We're not even doing anything."
"Not taking any chances."
Seth left the doorway, leaving Leah and Sam in her room once again. "That was close," she murmured.
"Another reason to come over tonight, if you ask me." He got out of the bed and walked to her desk, eyeing a yellow folder labeled Prom '05 in thick Sharpie among her textbooks. He pointed down at the folder and glanced at her. "Would you wanna go to prom again this year? With me? Or was it just for the experience last time?"
Oh, prom. She'd been so busy planning it that she hardly had any time to think about actually attending. "It was hella fun. It'll be even better this year since we got a cooler deejay."
"Then it's a date," he told her.
"Oh, is that your official proposal?" Before he got the chance to respond, she sealed the decision with a brief kiss. "Let's make it happen."
The sound of Harry's impatient voice interrupted them. Of course. "Leah! Sam!" he hollered. "Food's gettin' cold."
Leah gave herself too much credit to consider herself a rookie at sneaking out. After all, she'd snuck out to see Sam for their first ever date and lived to tell the story. However, tonight's plan had higher stakes. She had confidence in her ability to finesse it, since her parents would be up early tomorrow to leave for work and Seth typically slept in a semi-coma state, so she wouldn't wake him. But if her parents caught her… She shuddered at the thought. Dead would be too tame to describe her predicament.
Dinner ended rather early tonight, with nobody wanting to gossip more than they wanted to watch the NBA Finals. As Harry packed away leftovers, Leah began to wash the dishes with half of her attention diverted to the Lakers against the Hornets.
Once the fourth quarter finally ended and all their guests went home, Harry and Sue went to bed, with Seth returning to his own room not far behind them. After making sure Harry saw her fill her own glass of water for the night, Leah waited until eleven o'clock to get into the shower. She scrubbed every square inch of her body and only nicked herself once while shaving her legs. By the time she finished getting ready, her family members snoozed peacefully. In the placid near-silence, she suddenly grew self-conscious, wishing that she had something nicer to wear than sweats. But her attire wouldn't matter since she didn't plan to wear it for long.
Armed with her drawstring backpack containing lip balm, condoms, a box of Altoids, and her toothbrush, she took a final glance in her bathroom mirror, silently praying that Sam would pretend to not notice the inflamed pimple on her cheek. She donned her running sneakers and clicked on her flashlight before slipping out the back door and into the darkness.
The dark already made her nervous on its own, but the sensation had increased tenfold now. She wondered if tonight would finally be the night—the one that Emily had hyped up as life-changing, the one that would finally move Leah and Sam past third base. She had nothing against it, but everything that lied beyond third base intrigued her. While tonight didn't feel particularly distinctive yet, it still had potential. The cosmos might surprise her and align favorably.
Leah reached Sam's bedroom window, timidly rapping her knuckles on the glass.
Sam didn't hesitate to let her in. "So your maybe turned into a yes?"
"I couldn't just let you be alone all night." She clutched his firm biceps—barely concealed by the sleeves of his white t-shirt—to keep her balance as she climbed through the window. "Did you just do a bunch of push-ups 'cause you knew I was coming?" she teased him.
He chuckled. "Nah, I just woke up from dozing off. Don't worry, though. I'm up."
"I thought you said you'd wait up for me." She set her backpack on his desk chair before taking a place on his comforter.
He turned to shut the window and lower the blinds. She failed to ignore his noticeably sculpted back muscles, wondering when it'd be a good time to ask if he casually indulged in steroids.
"I didn't know if you were still coming," he explained, "since it's after midnight."
"You got worried that I wouldn't come through?" She asked with a goofy smile. "I knew you'd miss me, but damn."
Sam chuckled, taking his place beside her. "Yeah, okay, big head." He planted a soft kiss on her lips, cupping his hand at the nape of her neck and tracing her dimple with his thumb. "You know you missed me too."
No quantity of playful digs thrown between them would let her deny that. She reciprocated the kiss and, in moments, found herself mostly undressed with her sweats discarded somewhere on the floor. When he closed the space between them by pressing her almost-bare body into the mattress with his own, she lost herself in him once more. Of course she'd missed him.
She'd gotten ready to see him so frenetically that she'd forgotten her nightlight at home, and he'd been just as unprepared. She didn't believe in her restraint to pull herself away from him long enough to get dressed, grab her nightlight, and come back, anyway. The arrival of a long-awaited spring break had turned them feverish, restless, and, above all, spontaneous. Nothing mattered as much as being together under his comforter for as long as they could before sunrise.
So, he kept all the lights on for her that night. (His computer monitor remained illuminated with movies playing too, primarily as background noise.) As awkward as the excessive yet dull lighting had made their tryst, and even though the night didn't go nearly like she'd expected it to, she didn't regret sleeping over. The anticipation continued to rise now, especially when he'd assured her things would be better next time, more thoughtful. They would take their time.
She had nearly every facet of him re-memorized by the time she kissed him a simultaneous good morning and goodbye. While he certainly still owed her some more time in his sheets, she'd be sure to replay the highlights of their impromptu encounter once she made it home alive.
Leah entered her house's back door just before six, when the sun hadn't even risen yet. Frazzled and still coming down from last night's highs, she forgot to check if the family car remained in the driveway or not. She had run out of time. With nothing more than sheer will, her instincts, and a glimmer of hope, she entered the house.
And still, finding her mother in the living room, wielding a baseball bat and ready to swing still came to Leah as more than a shock.
"Leah, what the hell are you doing?!" Sue demanded.
"What are you doing?" Leah snapped back, her hands up in defense as her flashlight dropped to the ground. "Besides preparing to bust my freaking kneecaps?"
Sue lowered the bat. "I was protecting my family from an intruder. Sorry, sweetie."
Leah blinked. "I thought you'd be at work by now."
"I was supposed to be," Sue replied, "but the hospital just called to let me know that Dr. Cullen's gonna be out of town for a few days. They said it's a family emergency. Shifts got moved around so I'll have to pull a double later. Now, what are you doing sneaking in the house?"
"I wouldn't call it sneaking in," Leah countered. She picked up her flashlight from the floor. "I went for a walk."
Sue narrowed her eyes. "I didn't hear you leave."
"It was a long walk."
"You know what? I'm not gonna question it right now, with everything going on with Charlie." Sue, clad in flannel pajamas, walked to the coat closet to put the bat away, and then she returned to her cup of tea at the kitchen table. "Consider yourself lucky."
"Wait, what?" Leah asked, pulling up a seat across from her mother and sitting down. "Is he okay?"
"Charlie's the type of person that you need to check in on," Sue explained to her in a solemn voice. "If you don't ask him first, he'll never talk about it. I haven't heard from him in a little while so I figured I should reach out."
Leah stared at her. "So what happened?"
"Bella ran away last night. She came home from a date saying that she broke up with her boyfriend and that she hates Forks. Then she took off to Arizona in her truck."
She made a face. "I doubt the truck is gonna make it that far, but okay."
"Charlie's been in shambles over it all night."
"I bet. Bella moved here only a couple months ago."
Sue took a sip of tea. "I know. That's what makes me feel so terrible for the guy."
"That's hella dramatic," she added. "Maybe it was for the best that she went back, then."
"Don't be rude, Leah."
"Sorry. Do you know if he's heard from her since she left?"
"I don't think so, but maybe that'll change soon." Sue didn't seem to believe her own words, so Leah couldn't be convinced by them either. "He's worried to death."
Leah nodded, a sympathetic expression on her face. "That freakin' sucks."
Sue let out a soft sigh. "Wouldn't be the first time he's had something like this happen, with all the bullshit Renee put him through. I can understand it with Bella, since kids don't know any better, but Renee had no excuse…"
Sue went on, never running out of ways to bad-mouth Charlie's "deadbeat ex-wife"—not that Leah would complain. Things had gotten ugly back in Leah and Bella's diaper days, apparently. And, because Sue embodied the phrase "forgive but never forget," Leah didn't mind the heat being redirected away from her for sneaking into the house this morning.
"If you're ever thinking of running away because of a boy," Sue said somberly, "just talk to me first. And I don't give a damn if me and your dad ever get on bad terms. Got it?"
"Got it," she replied. "I wasn't even planning on running away, so…"
"That's good to know. Oh, and stop sneaking out to see Sam."
And there it is, Leah thought. As if I'm gonna even attempt to tell on myself. Not again.
But, before Leah could give a response to absolve her of her crimes, Sue made an addition. "And that's not an invitation to sneak him into this house, or worse—a car. No child of mine is going to end up on a sex offender registry."
"Wait. Me and Sam aren't sex offenders!" Leah exclaimed. "Actually, now I'm just offended."
"Just don't do it in a car," Sue told her sternly. "There are serious consequences if you get caught."
"Cool. I'll be sure to add that to my big list of things I wasn't planning on doing but might do later since you gave me the idea."
"That's not funny." Sue downed the rest of her tea and got up to set the mug in the sink. She returned to the table and kissed Leah on the top of her head. "I'm going back to sleep now. Have a good day at work, sweetheart."
"You too, Ma."
When Leah entered her bedroom, she set her alarm for eight so she'd make it in time for her shift at Cora's. Warm and lovelorn, she floated away on her cloudy comforter. With the sunrise keeping her company, she replayed the moments with Sam that she'd collected in her mind.
The rest of Leah's spring break cooled down as it primarily consisted of long shifts at Cora's with some Sam in between, when his ever-changing schedule allowed it. She gave herself props for her own maturity in all of this. Two years ago—or two months, even—the idea of working more than seeing Sam on a break from school would have left her miserable. Now, the Sam drought of spring break '05 bothered her emotions only in the slightest, but it left her with a very real, very physical yearning. She'd never get enough of him any time soon, and every moment that she did have alone with him felt painfully fugitive.
She had become something of an amateur photographer this year, having gone through a few disposable cameras. Photographs filled the dwindling space on her walls, so she didn't worry as much about holding onto the moments, as if she'd wake up with amnesia one day. But pictures couldn't capture Sam's essence. She needed the real thing for that.
On the final morning of spring break, the rain miraculously let up, and, because she couldn't do anything about the Sam drought without showing up at his job like the hot stalker he had joked about, Leah called out sick from work and caught the first bus to Neah Bay.
While she craved a slight change of scenery, Emily had more importantly guilted Leah a thousand times over the phone for not visiting the Makah rez as often as she could. After all, the bus line between them ran both ways. Whenever Em pointed out that she went to school, and made beaded jewelry, and regularly volunteered at the Makah Cultural and Research Center Museum, and still made it to a good number of Leah's games, and painted posters for said games, Leah felt like a total dickhead. But it wouldn't be like her to hear Emily say all that and then not prove her cousin wrong.
As Leah endured the lengthy journey, she knew that if existing in La Push felt like clinging to the edge of the earth, then Neah Bay sat even beyond that.
From the bus stop, Leah walked down the familiar road towards Emily's neighborhood until she saw the red brick, two-story townhouse where Emily and her parents resided. Just three blocks away from Neah Bay High School, they'd lived there since 1988, back when Emily had been a toddler. Her parents had signed a short-term lease in the townhome and moved from the South End of Seattle to Neah Bay so they could be closer to Emily's paternal grandmother in the last of her days. Shortly after, the temporary stay had turned long-term.
Leah couldn't imagine her life without Emily in it, nor did she want to; when Emily opened her front door, Leah met her with the warmest hug.
They didn't spend long embracing; Emily ended up convincing Leah to walk to the mini mart with her. After they trekked to the nearby, beloved store for snacks, Emily and Leah made the windy fifteen-minute walk back to Em's house.
"Is it weird that I'm not even sad about this being my last spring break of high school?" her cousin asked.
"That's not weird. School kinda sucks," Leah said. "Summer break is gonna be hella fun knowing you don't have to go back to school in the fall."
"I guess that's true."
Leah couldn't tell if Emily sounded excited about it, so she didn't question her. Instead, she kicked a rock from her path on the sidewalk to the patchy grass and simply agreed. "How was the movie last weekend?"
"Not bad. We ended up seeing Hitch."
Called it. "Oh, and how'd that go?"
"It was so good!" Emily beamed. "You know I love a good rom-com. Joseph didn't care for it too much, but I wasn't expecting him to."
"He's kind of a hater, anyway," Leah remarked. "You guys get into anything fun after the movies?"
Emily's grin turned to a smirk. "I mean, duh."
"You're so casual about it."
"Me and Joseph have been at this exclusive thing for a while now. Wait!" Her eyes lit up and she grabbed Leah's arm. "How was it when you spent the night at Sam's over break? Did you finally smash?"
"Where'd you hear that from?" Leah retorted. It usually took Emily much longer to ask about her life, not like she minded that much. "I never even told you I was spending the night at his place."
Emily furrowed her eyebrows. "It's not like it's a secret. Besides, you're severely underestimating our proximity if you don't think your mom and my mom haven't talked about it on speakerphone."
"Fair. But we didn't smash." The windy air fell relatively silent as the girls strolled along the sidewalk, their windbreakers swishing together. "It was still cool, though." Yet cool served as an understatement despite the initial self-consciousness surrounding that night.
Emily's initial reaction had always been to comfort despite Leah not giving any cues that she even needed it. "Aw, at least you still had a good time."
"Thanks. He kept the lights on the whole night, though—kinda awkward," she added.
"What's wrong with that? You're afraid of the dark."
"I know, but it's about the atmosphere," Leah clarified. "You know? The ambiance."
"Not my little cousin becoming a cheesy romantic all of a sudden." Emily grinned. "It looks good on you."
"As much as I hate to say it, you and your rom-coms have had an impact," Leah admitted.
They finally reached Emily's home, escaping the wind and retreating to her bedroom, where Leah collapsed into the purple bean bag chair in the corner. Her eyes scanned Emily's decadent lilac walls, filled with various beadwork projects over the years, pressed flowers, and movie theater ticket stubs.
Emily rummaged through her desk-slash-craft-table, stacked high with colorful plastic drawers and boxes of beads. "So, since I just found out I got into the internship program at the Makah museum," she began, "consider this one of my last major projects for a little while."
She then presented her with a pair of long, dangly earrings. Decorated with iridescent black, brown, gold, and white beads fashioned in an ombré design, they were easily the single most intricate earrings Leah had ever laid her eyes on.
"First," Leah said as she accepted the earrings, carefully taking them into her palms as if they'd break just by her looking at them too hard. "These are for me, right?"
"Um… yeah." Emily giggled. "You're wearing them to prom!"
"You're amazing, Em," Leah said sincerely as she took a closer look at the earrings. "I don't know how you come up with all these designs, but you're the most creative person I know."
"Aw, thanks, Lee. It just comes naturally to me, I guess. And the next thing you were gonna say?"
Leah nodded. "I was getting to that. Second, is this how you're telling me you got the internship you've wanted for years now?"
Her cousin shrugged, but she failed to hide her excitement. "I was already working on the earrings as a side project, but I guess so."
"Congrats, Em!" Leah exclaimed. "This is freakin' huge! It's been your goal since we were, like, twelve to work in a museum."
"I know, it's so sophisticated and shit."
"Did they say anything about the internship program turning into a permanent job?"
Emily leaned back against her desk. "Hopefully. They said there's 'room for opportunity,' and they 'love internal promotions,'" she replied with air-quotes. "I'm sure I will, though, since I've been volunteering literally every week since the school year started. But I don't even care since I'm showing up in style. I've saved up five hundred bucks for a down payment, so I'm treating myself to a new car for graduation."
"So we get to stop riding around in your mom's Jetta?"
"That's the plan."
"I appreciate you looking out for us. The shotgun seat's kinda uncomfortable, not gonna lie. When do you start the new job?"
"June 11th, a week after graduation."
Leah's snarky demeanor softened. Emily's way of saying it forced Leah to harken on a familiar sentiment of abandonment—though less dramatic—but then she had to remember that her cousin constantly proved herself to be, above all, solid. Consistent. Emily didn't have it in her to abandon anyone unless they abandoned her first, and even then, she'd still keep trying. She had no reason to jump ship, nothing to run from. She didn't even hate living in Neah Bay.
And then it hit Leah: She didn't have to count the days anymore.
As Leah let out a breath that she didn't even know she'd been holding in, Emily filled the silence. "We don't have to talk about it or anything," she reassured her. "I'm not just gonna disappear on you."
"No, it's okay," Leah blurted out. "I mean, I'm okay. We don't have to talk about it."
"Cool." Emily plopped onto her bed and propped herself up with pillows. "So, spill. What else did you and Sam do all night besides keep the lights on?" she asked with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Obviously, we prayed to Jesus," Leah replied dryly.
Emily laughed. "Obviously."
Leah couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "But if you wanted to know what really happened..."
Emily wiggled her eyebrows. "That's what I've been waiting to hear. You know, honesty is the best policy."
The two cousins spent the rest of the afternoon sharing confessions, then they changed focus to formulate their plans for prom. Miraculously, Emily even showed Leah how to bake fudge brownies from scratch. As the sun began to set, Leah realized she should return to La Push. Given the closeness of the bus stop to Emily's house, they walked there together.
She gave her cousin a one-handed goodbye hug, her other hand wielding a plastic-wrapped plate of treats for her family and Seth to judge. "Thanks for having me over, Em."
"Anytime," Emily replied with a grin. "You know you're always welcome here."
Once the city bus chugged to its stop, Leah boarded with a sense of contentment. The edge of the earth didn't daunt her anymore when she remembered she didn't have to exist in it alone.
Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable media or characters mentioned here. All histories and cultural aspects of the Quileute tribe belong to them.
