Chapter Three

Layna

The end of year panic has officially set in. Finals are coming up at a rather terrifying rate, especially since I missed three weeks of school in February while in the hospital. In addition to trying to stay on top of schoolwork, I have to be there while Zach, the yearbook committee's designated photographer, snapped pictures of the La Push people. So it's not a surprising that I'm skipping lunch and cramming in the library.

I'm just finishing up a set of practice math problems when Embry sits across from me at the small library table. He's holding a lunch tray piled high with food. He must see me looking, because he asks, "You want some?"

"No thanks." I'm not really supposed to eat cafeteria food. The diet I have to follow is very strict, and everything has to be homemade. Otherwise, I could have a relapse and end up back in the hospital. Instead, I get most of my nutrients through my feeding tube.

"Did you already eat?" Embry's expression shifts to concern.

"Yeah." I lie because it's easier. And also because, well, people tend to look at you different when you reveal you have a disease like mine.

It's not that I'm ashamed of my illness; I'm not. I've done walks for research, and participated in a few fundraisers. When I was diagnosed in fifth grade, I did a full presentation about it. But it's also not something I'm proud of, or something I want to discuss with a cute guy.

What would I even say? Sorry, I can't eat cafeteria food because I might end up shitting out blood and potentially vomiting? Or that I may get a fever and joint pain? And to go along with all that fun, a week in the hospital on heavy dose steroids? No thanks.

"What are you working on?" Embry leans forward, gaze dropping to my math book.

"Math. Just running through some practice problems. Math is not my strong suit."

"Mine neither." Embry shovels a handful of fries into his mouth. "I don't even bother anymore."

"Do you not want to go to college?" I ask, then immediately realize how judgmental I sound. After all, Dad never went to college, and he's doing well for himself. "I mean, it's not for everyone; I'm just curious."

"It's all good. I have a job lined up on the reservation doing security. There's a group of us who do it part-time while in school, and then it'll turn full-time when we graduate. What about you?"

"Me? I'm not sure. I'm probably going to go for special education. It's what my mom does."

"Your mom is a special ed teacher? Where does she work?"

"Colorado. My parents are divorced."

A look of horror crosses Embry's face. "Oh. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's cool. They split when I was twelve. she remarried a guy who works in Denver, so they moved. I still see her on holidays and stuff. Besides, both my stepparents are cool."

"Your dad remarried?"

"Yeah. Last summer. Her name is Sharon. Awesome person, but awful cook. This morning's breakfast attempt was blackened pancakes. It was practically ash. Dad was the only one who ate it. Not even Sharon had some."

"What did you rest of you eat?"

"Whatever was in the pantry." I hadn't eaten anything, as I was still full from my nightly feeding.

The bell rings, interrupting our conversation. Fortunately, it's his turn to get his picture taken. I flip my math book closed and shove in my chair.

"You want me to walk you to the gym? It's your turn to get shot."

"Is it on your way?"

"Yeah. I have to be there anyway."

"Oh, then yeah. That would be great."

Zach has completely taken over the gym. Wires criss-cross the floor, being held down by duct tape. Two cameras are set up at different angles in front of a large white backdrop. The entire set-up is hooked to Zach's computer, so he can see the pictures coming in.

"Hey, Layna. Hey, dude. Step in front of the backdrop for me." Zach flips into business mode as soon as we stem through the doors. He positions Embry, then checks the angle on his cameras.

"Layna, can you nudge that one forward just a tad? Perfect. Thanks."

"No problem." I quickly make sure I'm not on a wire on in the way of anything, and settle into watch.

Zach takes several pictures of Embry in various poses, then studies the pictures on his computer. I watch as he tosses out a bunch of them then starts the process all over again. He finally finishes after about ten minutes.

"Sorry it took so long. Cameras were being jerks today." Zach shoots us a grin and me a wink as we leave the gym.

"He likes you." Embry states as we walk back to my locker.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, hiking my books up a little in my arms. "No he doesn't.

"He does, Layna. I saw him wink at you." Embry is shaking.

"Whoa, Em. Calm down. He winks at all his friends. It's kind of his thing. What's your deal?"

I stop at my locker and turn to face him. He's still shaking. "Hey, man, are you okay? The cafeteria meatloaf get to you?" I study him more closely. His hands are clinched into such tight fists that I'm sure he has to be drawing blood, and the shaking is out of control. Suddenly, he turns on his heel and storms out the side door, leaving me standing alone in the empty hallway.

I slowly shake my head, shove my books into my locker, and head to Spanish. What was his deal?

I've mostly put the strange incident out of my mind by the time I'm back at home that evening. I'm eating the one brand of chocolate ice cream I'm allowed, while my tube pushes formula into my stomach. I'm doing a Harry Potter marathon, and the terrible two known as my stepsiblings are at their dad's. Heaven.

And then the doorbell rings. I hear Sharon's footsteps before the door clicks open. "Can I help you?" Sharon sounds a little confused. Reluctantly, I reach over to pause my movie.

"Is Layna home?" It sounds like Embry, but I can't be sure.

"Of course. Let me get her. Can I have a name?"

"Embry."

"Okay. Be right back." Sharon closes the door and comes into the living room. She raises an eyebrow. "Do you want me to tell him to wait while you take your tube out?" She shifts awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Please. I'll just be a sec." I stand and grab my backpack. Once in the bathroom, I pause the pump, and slowly pull the tube out. I carefully place the end that was in my stomach on a large sterile gauze pad before scrubbing the access tape off my face.

I can hear Sharon talking to Embry as I head back down the hall to the living room. She's in the middle of telling a story about the time I tried to bake with the terrible two and ended up covered head to toe in flour.

"That was a pain to clean up." I slide into the living room and lean against the wall. "I was still finding it in my hair for days after."

Sharon laughs and stands, turning to face me. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything." She shoots me a wink before sliding into the kitchen and pulling the door closed behind her, leaving Embry and I alone.

A/n: Surprise, I'm not dead. I think at this point it's easier to say I'm just not consistent, no matter what I do. Life is insane, and I'm trying to balance a lot of responsibilities at once. Also, I've been sick, like, three times since my last update. Nevertheless, I'm gonna try to get more steady updates out. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Later!

Lauren.

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Lady Shalpha: I'm so glad you love this story. I hope you love this chapter, too. Please review and let me know.