The Cliffs Of Icarus

By Greeen Goldfish

Summary:

Leah & Sam. Leah Clearwater drifts through life, unsure of how she feels about feeling nothing at all.

Chapter One

…

That's the word that summed up my existence.

I increasingly felt like I would never get out of our tiny little reservation. It was the same things every day—
the same people, the same beaches, the same roads and houses and conversations. The same trees and smells
and clouds and air. Sometimes it felt like something was pressing in on my chest, refusing to let me breathe.
And when I finally did succeed in breathing, the air I inhaled was heavy and wet. It was like drowning, in the
air. It was like the air itself was pushing in on me. La Push was pushing in on me.

I was lying on my back in the dirt outside the school. Not because I have any special affinity for dirt, but
because the grass was probably still damp. It was rare that the dirt had an opportunity to dry out completely,
and it felt parched and warm on my back and, for once, I could breathe.

So I guess maybe I do have a special affinity for dirt.

I didn't like the idea of the dirt soiling my clothes so much as I liked the idea of it soiling my clothes and not
mattering. Because nothing seemed to matter in La Push. Regardless of what I did, I would end up living in a
small house like my parents. My job wouldn't matter. My friends wouldn't matter. Nothing would change.

So it was hard to care about anything.

I certainly didn't care about the dirt that smeared the back of my t-shirt and clung to my hair. I almost liked it.
Because then it was like not caring was a benefit—like it was good. The fact that nothing mattered was good.
The fact that everything would stay the same was good.

It made living easy.

So I watched the clouds as they drifted past, fluffy and white, for once. It wasn't the first sunny day in La Push
and it wouldn't be the last, but it was uncommon. So it almost mattered.

But not really.

"Leah!"

I started at the sound of my name, propping myself up on one elbow and looking around.

"Huh?" I mumbled drowsily.

"Over here!" Sasha called.

Sasha was behind me, near the school building, waving me over. I stood up and brushed the dirt from my

jeans indifferently.

As I strode over to her, I could see that she was grinning. She obviously had something to tell me. I raised my
eyebrows at her as I closed the distance between us, but she was silent until I was within reach, which was
when she grabbed my arm and pulled me to her.

"Danny asked me to the bonfire this weekend!" she whispered excitedly.

"That's great," I said, a little confused. It wasn't like the bonfires were private functions. They were pretty
much wide open, and pretty much everyone went. It wasn't like she needed an engraved invitation. "So,

uh…does that mean it's…a date?" I felt stupid even asking it.

"I don't know! Do you think?" she squealed, as we pushed through the doors and into the bustling cafeteria. I
preferred spending lunch outside when the weather was nice, like it was that day. It wasn't often that the
clouds parted in La Push. I tried to take advantage of it when they did. But I could tell Sasha was dying to talk
to me about Danny and analyze every syllable that had come out of his mouth. So I steeled myself.

"Well, what exactly did he say?" I asked, pretty sure that was the appropriate response.

And that was all it took. The words gushed out of her the entire time we stood in the lunch line. I nodded my
head as I plunked some Salisbury steak onto my tray. Then, I wrinkled my nose as I examined a small bowl of
mashed potatoes, sniffing it.

"Well, you stuck your nose in it! Take it!" the cafeteria woman shouted at me. I grimaced at her in apology and
dropped it on my tray, as Sasha continued chattering about the clothes she was going to wear at the bonfire on
Saturday night.

It was only after we paid and were looking for a place to sit that Sasha stopped to take a breath. I realized I
was supposed to have something relevant or helpful to say to her, so I began racking my brain, going back
over everything I had just heard her say. But what did I know about boys? Not much, really.

Nothing, really.

Not that it mattered.

…

That night, I lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling of my cramped room. Like every other night.

The window was open, but it was hot. Our house was almost always hot, regardless of the temperature
outside. Maybe just because I found the humidity so stifling. I would open my window an in effort to let out the
heat, but it would let in the damp air. And it was late April, so the air out there wasn't all that cool anyway.

I was sticky, and my tank top felt damp, like everything else. My sheets felt damp. The room felt damp. The air
was so god damned damp.

I rolled out of bed and pulled on some jeans, thinking about how the only thing that mattered was that none of
it mattered.

I let the screen door slam behind me as I left the house. And when the night air hit my face, it was like I could
breathe for the first time in ages. I wasn't holed up in my stuffy room in that stuffy little house anymore.

I was alone.

Everyone was asleep.

It was quiet.

I was free.

I pulled the crushed pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and tucked the least shabby looking one into my
mouth as I dug the lighter out of my other pocket.

I knew that smoking was bad for me. I knew that it was stupid. But I loved everything about smoking
cigarettes. I loved the flicking sound of the lighter as the lick of fire burst from it. I loved the taste of the

cigarette as I placed it between my lips. I loved the sweet smell of tobacco when I pressed my nose to a fresh
pack. I loved the orange glow of a cigarette in the dark. And most of all, I loved the feeling of inhaling that dry
smoke into my lungs slowly, savoring it. Then, I loved exhaling it slowly, in puffs. It was a ritual. It was
beautiful. And there was nothing damp about it.

So I walked, smoking that cigarette like it was the last cigarette on earth. I didn't know where I was walking
to, at first. I just wandered, listening to the crickets and thinking about nothing. Nothing but those crickets
and that glorious cigarette.

I perched the cigarette from my lips and shoved my hands in my pockets and threw my head back, looking at
the sky as I walked. It didn't matter if I watched where I was going. There was nothing in front of me. And if I
tripped, no one would see.

Nothing mattered.

So I stared at the stars, my head slung back, wandering forward, one foot in front of the other. I would close

my lips around the cigarette to inhale and then open the side of my mouth to exhale.

It was uncharacteristically clear that night. And I tried to spot the stars Dad had pointed out to me as a child as
he wove the Quileute legends.

I couldn't remember them.

When I grew bored of pondering my own insignificance in the universe, I tipped my head back down and
looked straight ahead. I had veered off course some.

Not that I had a course.

But that was when I realized where I was headed.

Despite suddenly having a destination, I meandered. I took my time. I reveled in the silence and the solitude
and the knowledge that no one knew where I was or what I was doing.

I did a cartwheel, cigarette still dangling in my mouth.

For no reason at all.

Then, when I dusted off my hands, I headed for the cliffs.

The cliffs were my albatross. My siren. My Everest.

I had watched the boys jump off of those cliffs for years. Even as a little girl, I was mesmerized by the way men

would leap from them as if they could fly, running, running, running and then flying before diving into that
water. It was all so deliberate. They weren't falling back to the earth. They were diving back to the earth. They
were bending their bodies, their instincts, and the earth to their will. They were commanding the ground

beneath them and the air between them and the water under them. Their bodies were merely the vessels for
their freedom.

It drove me wild.

Because it was everything I wanted.

But I was terrified.

I had always been terrified of heights. Mom thinks it's because Jacob Black shoved me from a diving board

when we were little. I hit the water at an awkward angle and became disoriented. By the time I knew which
way was up, I had swallowed my fair share of the pool. And I was pretty sure I was drowned.

Until I heard Jacob Black laughing.

That was probably the day Jacob Black started irritating the shit out of me.

When I got to the cliffs, I walked out to the very edge. I tried to peer over it without actually leaning over it. It
was enough for me to see the water that was almost directly below me. I didn't need to look straight down.

It still made me nervous, so I sat down quickly, crossing my legs beneath me. I could handle sitting on the
edge, with my weight close to the ground. That was easy. Plus, there was a great view of the ocean. And the
salty air was almost dry.

Sometimes I swear the water at First Beach is dryer than the air. The water is at least salty. When I swim in it,
it makes my hair coarse when it dries, almost like the mane of a horse. My hair will never be as coarse as that

of white girls, though. I used to watch those commercials on TV about how using hair products and blow
dryers and curling irons and things were bad for hair—that they dried it out and damaged it. The
commercials were for shampoos that were supposed to restore that "healthy sheen." But I wasn't interested
in the shampoo. My hair always had that shiny gloss that made it look almost wet. So I used to do all of those
things that would supposedly damage it. I would blow dry it and then try curling it and teasing it—anything to
make it lighter than it really was. But my hair would always be heavy, shapeless, and smooth. Like water.

I stubbed out my cigarette on the cool rock surface beneath me. I was going to shove the butt into my pocket,
because Dad always taught me to love the earth and not to litter. But I really wanted to flick that cigarette butt
over that cliff. And I couldn't convince myself to care enough not to. So I flicked it with a precision that comes
only with years of practice flicking cigarettes. It was another part of the ritual that I enjoyed. And as I watched
what was left of the last cigarette on earth sail down and down and down toward the water, I regretted that
cigarettes only had the courtesy to glow orange when someone had the courtesy to inhale their smoke.
Because I would have liked to have seen that orange light fall down the side of that cliff into that water.

As it was, it disappeared behind the cliff before I could see it hit the water, anyway.

Then, I sighed, before pulling the crushed package of cigarettes back out of my pocket. But that time, I tapped
it in my palm lightly, corralling the few cigarettes left toward the opening. Once they were obedient, I dug in
with my index finger until I found what I was really looking for. I tilted the package, then, until the joint slid
out into my open palm.

The only thing better than breathing in the warm, dry smoke of tobacco was breathing in the warm, dry
smoke of pot.

After I lit it and sucked in that first lovely breath, I released it slowly; deliberately. Then, I fell back to the

stone slab that had become my bed.

I knew I wasn't going to be doing any cliff diving that night. I closed my eyes and did some visualizations. I

imagined the running and the jumping. Yet, even as I imagined it, my brain made the Leah in my mind's eye
hesitate, when she got near the edge. This was tragic for Imaginary Leah, because she ended up tripping over
the edge of the cliff instead of leaping over it. Which meant she didn't put enough space between herself and
the cliff, scraping against it on the way down, and falling onto the rocks below, where the crashing waves
threw her already mangled body against the cliff face, bludgeoning her even further.

So I took another drag and started over.

The second time, Imaginary Leah hesitated again, but caught herself. Only it was too late. She caught the edge
of the cliff with her hands after she had already fallen over the edge, so she clung to it, dangling above the

water and the rocks. But she couldn't hold on. She clawed helplessly for a moment before losing her grip
entirely and hurdling down to the rocks below. That time, she fell head first into a large, jagged rock, cracking
her skull in half, blood and brain matter exploding into the water around her.

So I took another deep drag, exhaling slowly.

I bucked up Imaginary Leah. I told her she could do it. I told her she just needed to not think about the water.
She needed to concentrate on running, and leaping, and flying. Then, I told her she was imaginary, so it wasn't
a big deal if she failed.

Funny how things almost seemed to matter more for Imaginary Leah than me.

On her third attempt, Leah finally made it. Not only did she survive it, but she also executed the most beautiful
and exquisite swan dive ever performed by anyone, imaginary or otherwise.

I was proud of Imaginary Leah.

And hopelessly jealous.

…

When I heard the footsteps coming toward me, I didn't bother opening my eyes. I knew it was Sasha. Sasha
was the only person who ever sought me out at the end of the football field, where I smoked during the lunch

period. And she probably just wanted to gush some more about Danny. I hoped that if I kept my eyes shut, she
would decide to sit down and soak up the silence with me.

"Bum a smoke?"

My eyes flew open and I sat up, startled. Because it wasn't Sasha.

It was Sam Uley.

And I hated Sam Uley.

I had absolutely no reason to hate Sam Uley, other than the fact that he was incredibly good looking. I tended
to have an irrational disdain for attractive guys—feeling like they assumed that I was interested in them, and
that they were too good for me. Actually, even if they didn't think they were too good for me, I was still bugged
that they always assumed I was interested.

Of course, there was no way of knowing whether they actually assumed I was interested in them. It was just a
feeling I always got. And before I knew it, I was self conscious even making eye contact with them. I had no
desire to feed their egos or let them perceive me as yet another groupie.

Like I said: completely irrational.

And Sam Uley was the worst one. Because Sam Uley was like a living, breathing, hunky high school bad boy
cliché. He was the kind of chiseled beauty that was almost painful to look at, because it made you feel
inadequate and uncomfortable. He was kind of a loner, and it was unclear if it was because he actually thought
he was better than everyone else, or if everyone else was just intimidated by him. Or maybe he was just a
loner because he fit the stereotype that well.

So it was a little surprising, to say the least, when I realized he was the one standing over me. And I cursed the
fact that he had caught me off guard, because I began stammering, and I'm sure that he chalked that up to my
being too awestruck by his god damned beauty to be able to speak coherently.

"Uh. Yeah. Um. Here," I said, handing him the package that was lying next to me.

He looked at it for a second and cocked his head, which I thought was kind of weird. Was he going to complain
about the brand or something? When I was bumming him a cigarette?

"Are these supposed to be ironic?" he asked.

And then I realized what he was asking about. Because I was smoking American Spirits. Which is practically
the equivalent of killing puppies in La Push.

American Spirit cigarettes have nothing to do with American Indians. The company isn't owned or operated
by American Indians. It's not some sort of American Indian tobacco. Yet the label on the package features a
stereotypical looking Indian smoking out of a stereotypical peace pipe.

"Uh. No," I stammered. "I mean…I guess… Kind of. It's…hard to explain."

"Try me," he said, tapping a cigarette into his hand. He looked back at me, then and spoke again, before I could
answer. "This is your last one."

"It's fine. Take it," I said. I was going to have to get more on the way back from school anyway.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

Then, he stuck the cigarette between his lips before meandering over to a nearby trash can and tossing in the
empty package. I thought my interaction had thus concluded with Sam Uley at that point, but just as I was
breathing a sigh of relief, he turned and walked back toward me as he lit the cigarette. As he inhaled, his eyes
returned to mine. I stared at him, determined not to look away. He raised his eyebrows at me and exhaled a
smooth cloud of smoke.

"So?" he asked.

"Huh?"

I was squinting up at him and shading my eyes with my hand, because he stood over me unapologetically, the
sun behind him.

"The irony. You were gonna explain it."

"Oh." I looked at my hands then, despite my determination. Because it was really hard to look him in the eye
as I tried to explain why I smoked cigarettes that were kind of exploitative. "Um. I guess because…fuck it.
Because…what does it matter?" I asked, glancing back up at him.

I wasn't going to let him intimidate me. And I sure as hell wasn't going to flirt.

But then…he grinned.

It was the type of grin that made me want to gouge out my eyes. Because it was so charming. I could feel
everything inside of me rising up against my determination to not be attracted to his chiseled face and broody
eyes and dimpled smile.

It was awful.

I think I actually winced.

But Sam just plopped down next to me, like we were the oldest of friends. Like it was perfectly natural for him
to invade my smoking spot.

Eventually, he lay back in the dirt and closed his eyes.

I sat there and fumed about how he bummed my last cigarette and made himself at home, scowling at his
perfect eyelashes as we both smoked our cigarettes in silence.

When he finally finished, he stood and brushed the dirt from his jeans just before flicking his cigarette butt
into the trash. Then, he looked at me and grinned.

"Thanks for the smoke, Leah," he said, just before turning on his heel and walking back toward the school.

…

I may not have cared much about dating, but I was a teenage girl, susceptible to all of the normal adolescent
thoughts and urges.

So, while I didn't have any illusions about Sam Uley wanting anything other than a cigarette from me that
afternoon, I wasn't impervious to his beauty. There's no way I wasn't going to see that grin replayed in my

head a hundred times that day, every time I closed my eyes.

It was disgusting how much I liked that he had smiled at me, and that he had said my name. I mean, it's really
not that significant that he knew my name. It wasn't like La Push was a big place. Everyone knew everyone's
names, for the most part. But I don't think Sam Uley and I had ever spoken to one another. Maybe because
neither he nor I really spoke a whole lot to anyone.

So when I went to bed that night, it was like any other night, in that I couldn't sleep. I thought about going back
to the cliffs. But when I shut my eyes, I saw that smile again. And it wasn't just that smile. Everything about
Sam Uley was molded in a way that the heat of my resentment for him and disgust with myself was matched
only by the heat of my want. I envisioned the way his arms were perfectly sculpted and the way his t-shirt fit
taut across his chest, hinting at how perfectly sculpted it was as well. And even though it was no mystery that
Sam Uley's body was flawless, thanks to many days of watching the boys go cliff diving, the t-shirt somehow
made the blood in my veins run even hotter. Knowing what was under there and not seeing it made me crazy.

I knew if I ran my finger over his skin, it would be smooth and warm. But it wouldn't be soft. Nothing about
Sam Uley was soft.

And as I imagined running my hand over that grey t-shirt and feeling the muscles that bound him together

into the sleek and imperfectionless object of my disdain, my hand dipped down into my shorts…

…and I wondered if it was going to be anything like hate sex.

…



Chapter Two
…

"I can't wait until the bonfire," Sasha squealed. We were sitting in homeroom, waiting for classes to begin.
"You're coming right?"

"Huh?" I asked, turning toward her. I had been staring absently at the way some kind of coating was peeling
off the square of linoleum just under my shoe. "Oh." I felt bad for being such a terrible listener. "Uh. I guess I
hadn't thought about it."

"Really? I mean, it's not like you have other plans, right?"

Sasha was pretty much my only friend. We had grown up together, and we were close. But as we got older, it
became clear that our shared childhood was the only thing we had in common. Sasha was bubbly and happy
and social. I was quiet and more reserved and moody. She never held any of it against me, but she did give me
a hard time about the smoking.

I never tried explaining why I really smoked to her.

I loved Sasha. People never understood how we could be friends. But it felt like she balanced me out. It felt
like when I was being crazy, she was the one keeping me sane. She didn't let me get too dark and cynical, but

she made me feel useful, too, because I didn't let her get too idealistic and naïve. I'm really not sure either of
us would have been able to function in society normally if not for the other. Sasha was so optimistic and
trusting that she would have been taken advantage of dozens of times if I hadn't been around to look out for
her. But I woulda missed out on a lot of life and fun if not for her. She let me be me, but she made sure I went
to things like bonfires. She made sure I actually interacted with people. If not for her, I wouldn't have had
anyone to buy weed from.

"You're not even a little excited?" she asked.

"Uh. It's just a bonfire, right? We've probably been to hundreds. They're the only thing that ever happens
around here. Why's this one so special?" I asked. And as soon as the words left my lips, I realized I was being a
terrible friend. Because that particular bonfire was different for Sasha. Because Danny had invited her to it. In
true Sasha fashion, though, she didn't let my pessimism get her down.

"Oh, don't be such a sourpuss. It's better than sitting in your living room and watching old movies by
ourselves for the eight millionth time."

"You're right. I'm sorry. You know how I am in the mornings," I said, trying to make amends. "What are you
going to wear?"

"I don't know. I was thinking about jeans and that new t-shirt I got online—that blue one. Because it's a pretty
casual function, right? I'm gonna try to look understated hot."

I smiled. Because understated hot probably summed up Sasha. She wasn't flashy, but she was beautiful. She
didn't realize it, but guys noticed her. She was convinced that the boys were all too busy checking out the girls
in the miniskirts and high heels to notice her, but it wasn't true. I think a lot of the guys actually preferred

Sasha to the girls in the miniskirts. But I think the girls in the miniskirts were less intimidating for the guys to
hit on. Or maybe that was just a theory that believing in made navigating high school easier.

"That sounds excellent. That t-shirt is really cute. You should come over Saturday and we can get ready
together."

That was Leah code for 'come to my house and pick out my clothes and do my makeup because I'm too lazy for
that stuff.' Sasha knew that's what it meant, but it was OK, because she loved filling that role for me. In fact,
she was grinning as soon as I said it.

"Yay! Thanks, Leah!"

…

When the lunch bell rang, I snuck outside for a smoke, since it wasn't raining. Really, I think that's the real
reason Sasha hated that I smoked—because it meant I wasn't always around to gossip with at lunch.

When I found my favorite patch of dirt, I was a little miffed that it wasn't entirely dry, so I sat down cross
legged instead of stretching out. It was a spot on the far side of the football field among a few trees, just far
enough from the building that the teachers couldn't see unless they were really looking. I preferred it to the
spot behind the gym, where it tended to get crowded. Plus, the faculty occasionally felt motivated and actually
went back there to give people detentions.

I had my head down, lighting the cigarette perched from my lips when I heard the footsteps again. I looked up
as I inhaled.

Sure enough, it was Sam Uley.

Again.

And he was still perfect.

I released the smoke from my lungs smoothly and then spoke, before he had the opportunity to turn me into a
stammering mess.

"Still too cheap to buy your own smokes?" I asked. Because it was weird that he had sought me out again.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head and sitting down next to me, as if I had invited him to do so. Because perfect
people are entitled like that-presuming their presence is welcome. I was a bit confused about why he was
there, though, as he pulled a pack of Reds out of his pocket. "Isn't this the designated smoking section?" he
asked, looking around like he was lost.

I tried not to smile. I think I managed a smirk.

"Actually, I believe the designated smoking section is behind the gym."

He laughed.

"Yeah. I know. They busted us back there on Monday. I'm trying to keep my head down," he explained, just
before flicking his lighter and taking that first magical breath of our shared addiction.

"Ohhhh."

It finally made sense—why he was mooching my smoke spot.

"Why? Am I bugging you?" he asked, seemingly genuine. But I probably stared at his full lips and high cheek
bones and dark brown eyes and long, black hair for a wildly inappropriate amount of time before answering,
because he was that distracting.

"Uh. No. I just… Most people don't notice me all the way out here."

He didn't respond then, other than to smile. So I looked away and concentrated on smoking my cigarette. And
even though I pretended to be watching some birds in a tree over on the perimeter of the property, I could tell
from the corner of my eye that he was still looking at me. And it was making me really uncomfortable.

Until it started to make me a little angry, because only a guy like Sam Uley could stare at a girl so unabashedly,
without a drop of self consciousness. It smacked of that same entitlement that allowed him to feel totally
comfortable in usurping my space. So I steeled myself and looked back at him.

"What?" I demanded.

"Nothing. I was gonna see if you needed to bum a smoke from me, seeing as I took your last one yesterday. But
I see you got more."

"Yeah," I said perfunctorily, flicking some ashes. "Thanks, though."

"Where do you even get these?" he asked, picking up the American Spirits sitting next to me. Like I wanted his
hands all over my cigarettes. "They don't sell them on the rez, do they?"

"No. I go to Forks for them."

The laugh that burst from his lips then was so loud and so sudden that I jumped a little. His long, black hair
slid back from his shoulders to his back as he threw his head back and continued laughing. With wide eyes, I
watched his Adam's apple pulse in his exposed throat, completely mesmerized. I closed my eyes briefly,

realizing it was the image I would probably carry with me for the rest of that day, which was irritating.

"Are you kidding me? You go all the way to Forks for smokes just to be politically incorrect?" he asked, still
laughing.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"It's not just to be politically incorrect."

"You said yesterday it's because you don't care. But you gotta care an awful lot to drive that far just to smoke
this brand to piss people off."

"It's…not just to piss people off!"

"No?" he asked, cocking a skeptical eyebrow. And it's possible that cocked eyebrow would rival the bobbing
Adam's apple in my mind's eye that day.

"No. I mean, not exactly. I just…I think it's silly to focus on something as stupid as the picture that some dumb
company puts on a pack of cigarettes when there's bigger issues to worry about. Like the fact that there's so
few economic opportunities for Indians and the fact that alcoholism and domestic violence are so rampant
and that we used to be so self sufficient as a people and now so many reservations depend on casinos for
revenue. The way our sovereignty is abused in ways that let Indians get away with what would otherwise be
crimes; the way our sovereignty doesn't actually mean shit. So I don't really care about the label on the
cigarettes. I'm tired of people wasting their time and energy on something so stupid. I'm tired of other
Americans thinking that the biggest problem plaguing Indian society is the fact that Washington has a football
team called the Redskins. So fuck it. I'm gonna smoke these cigarettes and maybe it's a little ironic. But really,

it's because I don't care. It doesn't matter."

As soon as the words finished spilling out of me, my first instinct was to feel embarrassed. But I tried pressing

that feeling back down. I didn't want him to see my embarrassment. And I didn't want to be embarrassed.

Plus, I was increasingly convinced that Sam Uley was so beautiful that he was probably also dumb as a rock.
My little rant wasn't exactly articulate, but it was probably more profound than anything that had ever passed
through his head.

When he squinted at me and nodded slowly, exhaling another smooth stream of smoke, it was like he was
confirming my suspicions about his intellect—as if he was struggling to wrap his brain around something that
was actually not that hard to grasp.

We sat in silence for a while after that. He didn't look at me again. He planted the palms of his hands on the
dirt behind him and leaned back, legs outstretched before him, ankles crossed. The cigarette still dangled
from his mouth, and he looked like what should have been on that damn American Spirits package.

I picked at the plastic on my pack of cigarettes, keeping my eyes trained on the spirals of cellophane that
floated to my lap as I pulled them free. When I kept my head bowed to concentrate on what I was doing, my
hair fell between my face and my future masturbation material, which made the whole situation slightly more
manageable.

It felt like fifty years passed in the few minutes it took us to smoke those cigarettes. I didn't look up from my
lap until I heard him make a move to stand up. I was dangerously close to smoking the filter on mine, so it was
a relief when he finally finished his. When I looked up to see him standing over me, it was the first time he
acknowledged me following my outburst.

"Don't worry," he said, the beginnings of a smile threatening to curl the corners of those beautiful lips, causing
one perfect dimple to appear. "I won't tell anyone."

"Huh?"

"I won't tell anyone that it's because you actually care too much."

Then, he winked, just before turning and walking away.

…

That night, I was determined not to indulge all of the longings Sam Uley incited. It was as if I was trying to
rebel against him and how attracted to him I involuntarily felt. It pissed me off. But I wasn't sure I was
succeeding in punishing anyone other than myself.

So I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, concentrating on not feeling the blood pulsing in my wrists.

It wasn't as if I was depressed, or had low self esteem. I had no desire to kill myself. I didn't care enough about
anything for that to even cross my mind.

But sometimes, as I lay in bed, I could feel that hot blood coursing through my wrists as if the blood itself was
alive and dissenting from the rest of my body. It was like there was a warmth emanating from just those veins,
crying out to be loosed to the world.

Rationally, slitting one's wrists is probably not the best way to commit suicide. I'm sure there are more
effective and less painful ways.

Yet I knew that that's how I would do it.

I would drag the razor up my veins, parallel with the length of my arm.

When I closed my eyes, I could feel the razor. But more than that, I could feel the blood spilling out, thick and
warm and fast.

Triumphant.

Maybe it was because my blood felt stifled, too.

So when the insomnia was even worse than usual and I was failing miserably at not envisioning Sam Uley's
wink and Imaginary Leah had bled all over the bathroom floor a few times, I returned to the cliffs. I didn't
have any pot left, but I could at least sit in the open air and smoke cigarettes. There was something both

soothing and invigorating about the smell of cigarettes mingled with the smell of the salty ocean air.

When I sat down on the edge of the cliff that night, I scooted close to the edge. When no one was watching, it
was OK for me to take baby steps. So after peering very briefly over the edge, I leaned back and my lips
tightened around my cigarette. But then, I squeezed my eyes shut and unfolded one leg out from under me.
With my eyes closed, I couldn't see where I was. I tried to convince myself I was just on a park bench, and
hanging my leg over the edge would be no different than having my feet dangle from a park bench, like when I
was a kid. I told myself that it wasn't as if there was some extra gravitational pull sucking me down into the
water from the cliff.

Still, I was probably leaning pretty far back when I finally succeeded in getting both legs to hang over the edge.

Once I did it, though, it wasn't too hard to sit there as if it was just another park bench. It was almost too easy,
and I made a mental note to never come to the cliffs drunk.

I didn't look at the stars that night. It was too cloudy. And frankly, I didn't want to look up and get vertigo and

then spill forward and die. (Imaginary Leah had actually plummeted to her death in an astounding variety of
ways since my last trip to the cliffs.) So I settled for looking out at the ocean, which wasn't much less
overwhelming than looking up at the universe.

Either way, I was pretty insignificant.

And it was still both comforting and alarming.

…

On Friday, it was raining. I wanted a cigarette so bad by lunch time that I contemplated braving it and just
standing in the rain at the end of the football field. I cursed the fact that I was too broke to have a car, as many
of the other smokers had surreptitiously relocated to their vehicles in order to smoke without getting
drenched. I would have asked Sasha to use her car, but she didn't allow smoking in it.

I had to go without.

It was torturous.

Even worse was the fact that after lunch, I had to go to the guidance counselor's office without my nicotine fix.

Or a plan.

"Leaaah," she purred, as I sat in her office, staring at my hands.

Ms. Call was very new age and laid back. She wore too much red lipstick and she always had three or four pens

stuck in her ponytail, which was always the last place she looked for a pen. She was also very determined to
get me to see the light—which, to her, was going to college far, far away. I think I had worn her down to the
point that she didn't have huge aspirations for me. I think she probably would have been happy if I

compromised on a technical school or a community college, by that point. But I was only a junior. So I was still
refusing to even think about it. And even though the year was winding down, I wanted to enjoy one last
summer without worrying about that stuff. Because what would any of it matter, anyway? I wasn't a good
student. I wasn't going to throw away a bunch of money on a degree that wouldn't get me a better job on the
rez. It wasn't like there were any jobs on the rez. But I couldn't move away. Ms. Call just didn't realize that. I
wondered what it was like for her, having a job that most students found irrelevant. Most students' parents
even found her irrelevant. Higher education wasn't a huge priority on the rez.

"What did you think of those brochures that I gave you last time?" she asked.

She had phrased it in a way that assumed I had looked at them.

We both knew she had done that on purpose.

"Um. They were great," I said, staring at the plain silver ring I was spinning around my ring finger.

The truth was, the brochures had been sitting on the desk in my room for a month, completely untouched.

"Could you be a little more specific?" she pressed.

I sighed and looked up at her then.

"They all seemed…a little…expensive."

"Oh, Leah!" she protested. "I told you-there's scholarships available. Don't sell yourself short. You're a bright
girl. And you're a member of a federally recognized tribe. The government will give you financial aid based on

that fact alone-no strings attached."

"I know," I mumbled, my eyes returning to my hands. "I'm going to work on applications this summer."

"Where do you think you're going to apply?"

She wasn't going to let me off the hook. So I started lying.

"Um. I'll apply to U Dubb. And Olympic. And the community college in Seattle. I think I'd like Seattle."

"Really? That's fantastic!" she cried. "Do you know what you might want to study? That could really help in
narrowing down where you want to apply. Although I think you should apply to no fewer than three schools."

"Um. Maybe English."

It was the only subject I did remotely well in. But the truth was, I couldn't imagine myself doing much of
anything other than waiting tables or bagging groceries.

Maybe some people found that sad. But I didn't. I grew up with blue collar parents who worked hard every
day to provide for us. And we never had a big house or anything like that, but there was no shame in it. And
my little brother, Seth, and I were always happy. I'm pretty sure my parents were always happy, too. They
didn't need flashy cars or people to order around. Mom had her books and Dad had his fishing and we all had
each other and the rest of the tribe. Sure, I was kind of a loner. But I was still a Quileute. I still went to the
bonfires and the fish fries and life was…simple. But not bad.

Really, I found it kind of insulting that Ms. Call felt that I needed to aspire to leave La Push. I didn't need some

expensive degree and a bunch of lessons on how to be an overeducated, egotistical misanthrope to know my
own worth.

"What do you think you'll do with that?" Ms. Call asked, twirling a loose strand of her hair around a finger as
she leaned over the desk and looked at me expectantly. It was clear she was trying to force me to think about
my future. She didn't realize I already had.

"Um. Teach?"

"Really? You want to be a teacher?"

"Sure."

"Leah!"

"Hm?"

"Are you just telling me what you think I want to hear! ?"

"No?"

"Leah!"

"Sorry! I didn't get a chance to look at the brochures. I… I'll look at them when I get home tonight, I swear."

"You're going to research colleges on a Friday night? I'm not falling for it, Leah."

"You might be surprised. It's not like the rez has a whole lot to offer a teenage girl socially."

"Don't you ever leave the rez?" she asked, leaning back in her chair, her brow furrowed.

I shrugged, figuring I shouldn't admit that I mostly only left to buy cigarettes.

"Sometimes."

"Don't you ever want to leave the rez? See what else is out there? I mean, it's fine if you think you want to

settle here, Leah. But you're young! You need to see the world!"

I shrugged again. Then, I began wondering if she gave this speech to all the apathetic, adolescent Quileutes. I
knew I wasn't the only one.

"Do you say that to everyone who comes in this office?" I asked.

"No! Leah, you have a lot of unrealized potential. I see that in you. You're not destined to waste your life
away!"

"Is that what you consider staying in La Push? Wasting life?"

"No! I just… There's lots of opportunities out there for a girl like you. I don't want to see you throw them all
away, if you're going to regret it later."

"I don't think I'll regret it," I said.

"How do you know? The thing about regret is that you don't know you're going to feel it until you do."

"I never regret much of anything."

…

That evening, Sasha came to our house, as planned. And after my mom had forced a cookie into her hand and
my dad had inflicted one of his terrible jokes on her, we ducked into my room. I collapsed onto the bed and
watched, as she began her routine, dumping a bag full of junk that I couldn't even comprehend on the carpet
in front of my floor length mirror. Then, she sat and began sorting through it carefully, pulling out various
brushes and compacts and god knows what else.

"I think you should wear that halter top you got in Port Angeles last time," she said, as she leaned forward,
peering into the mirror and applying the first of many layers of whatever it was. Her skin was much paler
than mine, so she could wear a lot of the makeup marketed to white girls. "It's warm tonight."

"Yeah, but we're gonna be on the water," I said, running my hand through my hair and examining my split
ends absently.

"Yeah, but there'll be a bonfire."

"I guess. You're the boss," I said, flicking the hair back over my shoulder. Then, I rolled onto my stomach and
turned on the clock radio so that we could listen to some mediocre music, at least, while we got ready. Or
while I watched Sasha get ready.

"I'm putting eyeliner on you tonight, just so you know. You look amazing with eyeliner."

"OK, Boss. Just make sure you take it off of me at the end of the night, unless you want me to forget and sleep
in it."

"With any luck, I won't be coming home with you, tonight."

That's when I sat up.

"What?"

"Hopefully, I'll be going home with Danny."

"What do you mean 'going home' with Danny? He lives with his parents."

"Oh, hush. You know what I mean. I'm just hoping we'll leave the bonfire together. I don't care where we
actually go."

"Are you gonna have sex with him?"

It wasn't that I was a prude. It was just that I knew Sasha was a virgin. And even though she and I had never
really discussed losing our virginities, it never crossed my mind that Sasha might be the lose-it-on-a-whim-in-
the-back-of-a-truck kind of girl.

Me?

Maybe.

Sasha?

No.

"No," she said, her hair whirling around as her head snapped in my direction, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"But that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun."

"Oh," I said, relaxing my posture some. "So, uh… You're gonna leave me stranded?"

"I'll give you the keys to my car, just in case. You can drive it back if I'm not around."

"Oh. OK. Just…be careful, OK?"

"I always am!" she said, grinning and turning back to the mirror. "What about you?"

"Huh?"

"Who are you eyeing lately? There's gotta be someone."

"Nope. No one."

…



Chapter Three
…

When we got to the bonfire, a lot of people had already gathered. We both scanned the crowd for Danny, since
Sasha was supposed to be "with" him that night, but he hadn't arrived. I was a little relieved, seeing as I didn't
exactly want to be a third wheel right from the jump.

I guess it didn't really matter, anyway. It was only a matter of time before I wandered off.

Sasha and I positioned ourselves with our backs to the water, so that we could monitor the arrivals. All the
makeshift driftwood benches were taken, so we ended up sitting in the sand. Fortunately, it was at least dry.

"Do you think it's a little rude of him to not be here yet?" Sasha asked nervously. She was probably more
nervous about suggesting that someone was perhaps rude than she was about anything else. Sasha never
spoke ill of anyone. "I mean, it's pretty late."

We had taken a while getting ready, seeing as Sasha had to do all of the work for both of us, one at a time. She
spent longer than I thought possible on me, considering I nixed most of the stuff she wanted to do. Yet we still
managed to arrive before Danny.

"Nah. Give him a few more minutes. He'll be here soon, I bet," I said, pulling my cigarettes out of my pocket as
Sasha wrinkled her nose.

And that was the moment my eye caught Sam Uley's, as he had just arrived and was greeting the others who
were between the bonfire and the parking lot. He was far enough away that I wanted to pretend he couldn't
see me looking at him, but I realized that I could see him looking at me, and I was the one lit up by the blaze of
the fire.

"What's that about?" Sasha whispered.

"Huh?" I asked, tearing my eyes from Sam and turning to her as I focused on lighting my cigarette. It took me a
couple of tries, but I finally got a flame to burst from my lighter and I inhaled deeply.

"Leah. What was that little exchange that just happened between you and Sam Uley?"

I turned my face away from her to exhale the cloud of smoke before returning my eyes to hers.

"Huh? Nothing."

"Liar! Oh my god! I think you two just totally eye fucked each other!" she whispered excitedly.

"Nah. That wasn't it. We just… He's probably looking for someone to bum a smoke from or something."

"What are you talking about? That was not what that was."

"Sure it was. We smoke together. That's it."

"What?"

"He bummed a smoke from me at lunch the other day. And we smoke together. That's all. And it was only
twice. I haven't talked to him since like Wednesday."

"What? How did you not tell me this! ? You talked to him?"

"Uh. Yeah. I didn't tell you about it because it wasn't a big deal. I think he's kind of…"

"What?"

I was going to say 'dumb,' but I wasn't as sure. Not after his parting words to me on Wednesday.

"…an ass. I think maybe he's too hot for his own good."

"He's too hot for anyone's good."

Then, as if planted by God himself to save me from that conversation, Danny appeared in front of us.

"Hey girls," he said. "How's it going?"

"Good!" Sasha said, standing up. I ashed my cigarette before I stood to talk with them. But I didn't hear what
they were saying. I was too busy looking over Danny's shoulder at Sam, who was talking to a couple of seniors.

And because I have horrendous luck, he glanced up and caught me looking at him again, at just that moment.

I looked away quickly, but I was fairly certain that right before I did, he smiled at me. The problem was, I
couldn't tell if it was a friendly smile or an I'm-amused-at-how-obvious-you-are-about-wanting-in-my-pants
smile.

"Uh, I'm gonna go for a walk," I blurted, interrupting whatever Danny was saying. He looked surprised, but
Sasha didn't. She probably figured I was trying to give the two of them alone time. Really, I was just trying to
get out of Sam fucking Uley's eyeline.

"OK… Have fun," Danny said. And because I'm extremely rude, I spun on my heel without even saying goodbye
and took off toward the water.

Just as I predicted, it was significantly cooler on the water, away from the bonfire, and I cursed the fact that I
had let Sasha talk me into the halter top. Despite it, though, I slid off my flip flops and rolled up my jeans so
that I could walk along the surf.

"Hey, Leah! Wait up!"

I spun around then to see Jacob Black.

"What do you want?" I asked. Jacob was a freshman and, since the day he had shoved me off the diving board,

he had never ceased being a pain in my ass.

"Aw, man. You really know how to make a guy feel welcome."

Our fathers were friends, so we actually saw each other pretty frequently. I actually really missed Jacob's
older sisters. Rachel was off at college and Rebecca had married young and moved to Hawaii. I was never as
close to them as I was to Sasha, but the Blacks were like extended family. So Rebecca and Rachel were kind of
like older sisters.

And Jacob was kind of like the annoying little brother I never signed up for. I already had Seth for that.

"Jake, you shouldn't even be here. How old are you? Twelve?"

"Shut up! Isn't Seth here?"

"No! Seth is only twelve."

"So? It's just a bonfire, Leah. Lighten up."

"Right. And that's just soda that those guys have in coolers over there. And I'm sure those are just cigarettes
the kids down by the cliffs are smoking."

"Huh?"

"Nothing! Never mind. What do you want?" I asked, picking up my flip flops and strolling away from crowd of
people.

"I was wondering if you and Sasha could give me a ride home tonight."

"What? How did you get here?"

"Quil's mom gave us a ride," he mumbled.

I laughed.

"Does that mean Embry and Quil need a ride home, too?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Fine. But we're leaving when either Sasha or I decide to leave. If you miss the bus, that's your
problem."

"Great! Thanks, Leah!"

Then, he turned and jogged back to the crowd.

I returned my attention to the wet sand between my toes and the cigarette between my fingers and the water
that would occasionally lap onto my feet. The contrast of the water on my feet and the smoke in my lungs felt
important somehow—like I was bending the elements to my will. And it didn't even bother me when my feet
were wet, so long as that air was still dry and salty and I had that smoke to fill my lungs

I glanced at the kids collected on the beach near the cliffs. They were smoking pot and I was pretty sure it was

only a matter of time before people started cliff diving. I found a spot on the beach that would give me a good
view of the action. Although people tended to congregate at the top of the cliffs to goad people and cheer, it
really wasn't the best place to watch the actual dives. Despite that, the group of stoners at the bottom of the

cliffs would probably climb up the steep incline on my left once they were sufficiently high.

I sat down about fifty yards from them, crossing my legs and stubbing out my cigarette in the sand before
pocketing the butt and pulling out crisp, fresh cigarette. I had a tendency to chain smoke in social settings,
regardless of how much I isolated myself.

"Leah!" a voice called, from amongst the cloud of cannibas. It was dark, so I couldn't see who it was without
the light of the bonfire.

"Yeah?" I called back.

"Wanna smoke?"

"Who is that?"

"Yos!"

"No thanks, Yos! I'm just gonna watch the dives. Thanks, though!"

"Your call!"

Yos was a senior. I didn't know him that well, but I guess we knew each other well enough to know that we
both smoked.

I sat and listened to the ocean and the distant chatter and laughter of the people gathered. Even though the
darkness had turned the water into a black abyss, the whooshing sounds and the foam that tipped the crests

of the waves revealed that it was still there, as alive and consistent and rhythmic as ever.

As I sat and listened, I thought about how much I loved the rez. As much as I kept to myself, I still felt like a
member of the community. There weren't really any outsiders in La Push. It was maybe the only place
someone like me wouldn't be an outsider.

It was something I thought about a lot when I was in Forks. I definitely felt like an outsider, there. And maybe

most Quileutes felt that way outside of the rez, seeing as we stand out a bit. But there's plenty of Quileutes to
be found in Forks, on any given day. Since there aren't many job opportunities in La Push, most have to go
outside the rez to work every day. And that means going to Forks, for most people.

But it wasn't just about having tawny skin and narrow eyes in a sea of white people. It was also the fact that,
even though Forks was a small town and people tended to know each other, they all seemed more isolated.
Sure, they interacted at work and at school and such. But, for the most part, they all retreated to their homes
at the end of the day, to their own little bubbles.

On the rez, we were always together. And even though I only sort of knew Yos, I knew his parents' names, and
I knew I would probably see them at the next fish fry. I knew his mom would ask me how school was going
when she offered me a slice of her incredible strawberry pie.

I also knew, when I saw the stoners disperse and begin collecting sticks, that it was almost time for the cliff
diving to begin. Their numbers had increased as I had smoked several more cigarettes, and collecting sticks
meant that they were going to start another, smaller fire at the top of the cliffs. They did that so that the divers
could warm up between dives.

Even though I didn't participate, I was excited with the anticipation of knowing that there would soon be

people streaking off that cliff like meteors. It was my favorite thing in the world to watch. I was probably
grinning just thinking about it when two dark figures made their way toward me. As they got closer, I could
tell from the outline of the body that I had memorized that one of them was Sam Uley. But he wasn't the one to

speak to me.

"You coming up?" Yos asked.

My eyes flicked from him to Sam, who was looking at me.

"No. I think I'm gonna stay down here to watch for a little while. I might come up later, though."

"Alright. Cool. We'll catch you up there later, then."

"'Kay."

My eyes flicked back to Sam's, then, just before they both turned to walk away and, for one brief second, he
smiled again.

I still couldn't tell if it was amusement or not.

But I thanked the good lord I didn't even believe in that he didn't have eyes in the back of his ass as they
strolled back toward the cliffs.

The hooting and hollering began before Yos and Sam even made it to the top of the cliffs. And when I heard a
splash, I realized I had been so busy watching them climb up the path that I had missed the first dive. I looked
over just in time to see a head surface and begin bobbing in the water.

It was a beautiful night and because of where I was sitting, the moon backlit the dives. As the bobbing head
moved closer to the shore, a pair of broad shoulders emerged, followed by a wide chest and a narrow waist.

Although it was dark, the moonlight reflected from the drops of water that fell from the dark form.

And I remembered the second reason I loved watching cliff diving.

As the first diver made his way back toward the path up the cliff, I heard another swell of noise coming from
the top, signaling that another diver was about to make the leap. Because I was prepared that time, I watched
as he came flying off the edge, throwing his arms behind him and soaring headlong into the water.

Watching him move through the air with such purpose made my heart leap with both awe and envy. It was as
if I was vibrating with the desperate desire to feel what they all felt, as they soared. It was magic. It was sex. It
was everything.

The second diver was barely out of the water before the cheers began again above me. And when the third
diver soared off that cliff, I knew it was him. He dove with the same beauty and perfection that he breathed.
But I couldn't feel the resentment bubbling up inside of me in that moment, because it was too hard not to
catch my breath at the way he seared through the air, just before tucking his legs in and turning around and
around. And after two seamless flips, his arms stretched in front of him and his legs behind him in a smooth
line of determined ease. He made it all look so simple and beautiful.

Because in addition to being perfect looking, Sam Uley was also a perfect diver.

It was like he was put on the planet to get under my skin.

"Leah!"

I turned at the sound of Sasha's voice. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little pissed she and Danny were

interrupting Sam Uley's emergence from the water.

"What's up, guys?"

"Come up the cliff with us! We're gonna go watch from up there," Sasha said.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure," I said, standing up and brushing the sand from my jeans, glancing back toward the water,
where Sam Uley was swimming toward the shore slowly.

Then, the three of us trekked up the steep hill, grasping at stray reeds and rocks to pull ourselves up. The path
was well worn, but that didn't make it any less steep, and I saw Danny steady Sasha several times. It made me
roll my eyes, just a little. But, if I was completely honest with myself, it also kind of made me wish I had
someone to reach out and steady me.

When we finally reached the top, we stood with the others who lined the path that the divers ran down before
leaping. As much as I loved the view from below, the top of the cliff had a unique energy, as people cheered
and those diving would prepare to take the plunge. Even in between jumps, the crowd buzzed with
anticipation. And as we waited for another to pluck up the courage, Sasha and I tried to catch each other up
without saying too much in front of Danny.

"Have we missed many?" she asked.

"Nah. There's only been three so far. Did I miss anything over by the bonfire?"

"Not really. I mean… It looked like the usual, but we wandered off for a bit."

We glanced at each other surreptitiously, then, so that Danny wouldn't see the look we exchanged. Because
we both knew that she and Danny did more than just wander off. I knew it was going to drive me crazy not
knowing exactly how much more until Danny wasn't standing right behind us.

Before I could begin obsessing about it, the crowd roared to life, because Yos was about to dive. Sasha and I
leaned forward to see past the others, who were looking down the line where he was stripping off his t-shirt.
Sasha glanced at me again and grinned before returning her attention to Yos. Yos was skinnier than Sam Uley,
but he wasn't unpleasant to look at, for sure. And just before he broke into a sprint, he grinned that same grin
they all got right before diving. Every single one of them. His eyes gleamed. Maybe it was the adrenaline.
Maybe it was just the high of the anticipation. But whatever it was, I wanted it.

As soon as he leapt and disappeared, the crowd burst into applause so loud that we didn't even hear the
splash that followed. Some ran to the edge and peered over to watch him hit the water, but I never had the
stomach for that, so Sasha and I stayed back.

"You know, just once I'd like to see one of the girls dive," I mumbled.

"You say that every time," Sasha said.

"I know. I just never understand why none of the girls step up."

"What's stopping you?"

We both whirled around then, because the voice came from behind us, but it wasn't Danny.

It was Sam Uley.

Standing in all his wet, dripping, half naked glory.

I sucked in a shocked breath and felt my eyes widen involuntarily. And from the way the air seemed frozen
around us, I could tell that Sasha was just as shocked and non-functional as myself. It took a second for it to
register that he had said something.

"Uh. What?"

"What's stopping you from diving?" he repeated, as my eyes darted from the water dripping down the smooth
planes of his chest to the place where his stomach met the waist of his pants to the hair that clung wet to his
broad shoulders.

"Uh. An irrational fear of heights. And, uh, maybe diving into water from heights specifically. Thanks to Jacob
Black."

"Oh yeah? What'd Jacob do?" he asked as he tilted his head to one side and bundled his hair in his hands,
wringing it out. As the water hit the ground, I felt some of it splash my ankle, where I had rolled up my jeans. It
felt like acid on my skin-a scorching reminder that I was aware of even the water that fled from him.

"He shoved me from a diving board when we were little."

"Huh," he mumbled, straightening up and looking at me. I thought his eyes were going to burn a hole right
through me. "Well, all the more reason to try it then, yeah?"

"I know," I said. I wanted to tell him that I was very acutely aware of how much I needed to leap from that cliff.
More so than he could ever imagine. But I knew how crazy it would sound, because he didn't know how
desperately I wanted it. That it had to do with a lot more than just overcoming some childhood fear.

"If you decide you want to, don't be shy about getting in line," he said. And I could tell from his tone that he
intended those to be his parting words of condescension. But just as he made a move to walk back toward the
fire, I spoke.

"I'm not shy."

It was childish and defensive, but that was one of my pet peeves. People assumed I was shy just because I had
a few semi-antisocial tendencies. But it had nothing to do with shyness.

When he turned back to look at me, though, I realized that I hadn't come off as childish and defensive. I had

come off much worse.

I had sounded like I was coming on to him.

I knew it the moment his lip curled up.

And then he was gone.

"Fuck!" I whispered, completely flustered. Sasha's head snapped in my direction and she stared at me, eyes
wide.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Nothing!" I insisted, because Danny was standing right there, watching the two of us like a tennis match.

"I need a beer. Is there any beer here, Danny?" Sasha asked, turning to him.

"Yeah, sure. I'll be right back. You want one, Leah?"

"Yes."

Because I needed a beer in that moment more than I needed to abide by my personal rule about drinking on

the cliffs. Danny nodded and wandered off, then, in search of the beer.

Of course, as soon as he was gone, Sasha didn't hesitate.

"Leah!"

"Oh god, Sasha!" I cried, my head falling to my hands. I was mortified.

"What's wrong?" she whispered. When I looked up, I could see that her eyes were on Sam Uley, and when I
followed them, I saw him pulling his t-shirt back on. I looked away quickly, before he could catch us both

being completely obvious about the fact that we were freaking out over his having talked to us. As if it was
even worth freaking out about.

"I didn't mean it like that!" I whispered back, frantic.

"Like what?"

"When I said that I'm not shy—I didn't mean it to sound like an invitation into my pants!"

"Oh, Leah!" she said, laughing. "I don't think he took it like that."

"Did you see his face? That smug bastard totally took it like that."

"So what if he did? Why wouldn't you invite him into your pants?"

"Ugh! Sasha! I don't want to be one of those girls! And I don't want to feed Sam Uley's ego! And… I don't know,

OK? I just… That was humiliating."

"Leah, what if he likes you?"

"Don't be stupid, Sasha. It's Sam Uley. I'm pretty sure he likes himself too much to have room for anyone else."

"Wow, Leah. That's pretty harsh. Even for you. Do you know him?"

"No, but look at him!"

"Oh, stop. He could be perfectly nice. And maybe he does like you. That's twice you two have had a little
moment tonight. That's not normal."

"Well, whatever. I'm not gonna be another notch in his bedpost."

"I'll be a notch in his bedpost. Just sayin'."

"Hey! Yeah!" I cried, suddenly remembering that there was an easy way to turn the direction of the
conversation. "Since when are you so whore-y? And what were you and Danny doing when you wandered off?"

"Oh stop! We just made out some."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It was pretty awesome," she whispered. "But I'll tell you about it later." Because Danny was returning,
with three beers in his hands.

"Thanks, Danny," I said, smiling.

"Sure thing."

"Oh yeah, Sasha: I told Jacob that we could give him and Quil and Embry a ride home tonight. But they know
they're operating on our schedule."

"OK, cool," she said.

"It'll be pretty crowded, but they're pretty skinny, so it should be fine," I said.

"Yeah," Sasha said, eyes wide, nodding. Because she had picked up on what I was doing. "We'll just make them

sit in the back together. We'll put Jake in the middle, since that's the seat without a seatbelt."

If only Danny were a little quicker.

"And I guess since I live kind of close to them, they're not too far out of your way. It sucks that you don't live
closer to me. Remind me to give you gas money," I continued, loudly.

"Oh. Hey. I can give you a ride home, Sasha. Then Leah can take the boys."

Thank god he had finally caught on.

"Oh. Are you sure?" Sasha asked, turning toward him and batting her eyelashes.

"Yeah. It's cool."

"OK. You don't mind, do you, Leah?" she asked, turning to me and smiling.

"No way. Go for it. That'll make things way easier."

"OK. Thanks, Danny."

Then, we grinned at each other, just before we looked up to see the next diver.

And our jaws dropped, because it was little Jacob Black.

…



Chapter Four
…

I didn't return to the cliffs that night when I couldn't sleep, as there was a danger that there'd still be bonfire
stragglers there, partying late into the night.

The drive home was almost unbearable, with the boys bouncing around with an unbridled enthusiasm that
only freshmen possess. After Jacob dove that night, Quil and Embry had as well. All three of them were beyond
proud, as it was the first time any of them had cliff dived. They epitomized that freshman enthusiasm—
exhilarated by partying with the older kids and their own efforts at proving themselves worthy.

They didn't yet realize that there really wasn't much difference between the younger kids and the older kids.

After dropping them off, I resigned myself to a sleepless night spent in my stuffy room. My parents were
already asleep when I slipped in, and I would have said the same for Seth, but he poked his head out his
doorway and grinned at me when he heard me coming down the hall. I rolled my eyes and ruffled his hair,

before he darted back in.

The nice thing about Seth was that he was still young enough to think I was really cool, just by virtue of being
older. Kind of like Jacob, Quil, and Embry idolized people like Sam Uley and Yos.

When I finally collapsed into my bed, I longed to smoke another cigarette, but I was too lazy to get up and
crouch at my open window to blow the smoke out of it carefully. My smoking was a bit of an open secret in the
family. Mom and Dad knew that I did it and I knew they didn't approve, but I never did it around them, so they
never argued with me about it. I think they were resigned to the fact that I was addicted. Or maybe they just
didn't think it mattered that much.

Still, I tried to avoid smoking in their house, even in secret.

So as much as I wanted a cigarette in that moment, I also didn't. I certainly wasn't going to go all the way
outside to smoke one.

I really didn't have a reason to be so exhausted. It wasn't like I did any cliff diving. It was a fact that really
burned me up, considering even the freshmen were doing it. Even Jacob Black was doing it. As I lay there, I
was increasingly bitter about the fact that that little shit had pushed me from that diving board so many years
ago, yet he was cliff diving with apparent ease.

It's possible I was exhausted from being tense all night. Because every muscle in my body tensed when I was
paranoid that Sam Uley was looking at me, which was how I spent most of the night.

And it made me so angry that I let him have that kind of effect on me.

But when I wasn't thinking about how much he pissed me off just by existing, it was impossible not to think
about that body, dripping and flawless. And that smile.

And as I felt my blood run hot again, it only made the anger return.

It was a vicious cycle.

But it took my mind off how bad I wanted a cigarette.

So I glanced at my door and made sure it was locked before I pulled off the halter that was clinging to me and
shimmied out of my jeans.

Then, I tapped into the rage and the lust and I pretended I hadn't worn the black panties for no reason that
night.

…

Saturday, I drove to Sasha's to return her car to her. I was a little surprised when her mom answered the door
and told me she was still asleep.

"Go in and wake her up. It's past noon," she said.

"Uh. OK. Thanks, Mrs. Fox."

"Oh, and thanks for driving her home last night, Leah."

"Uh, no problem."

Sasha's house was considerably more posh than mine. Oddly, we tended to hang out at mine more often. It

was almost like the pastel walls and the bright lights in her house made it less…home. So we were often found
parked in front of the television in the dark, windowless living room of mine, instead. Everything in my house
was brown. The walls. The furniture. It was kind of like the house would eventually sink back into the ground
once we were through living in it, it was so small and brown.

Sasha's house, on the other hand, had been built relatively recently. Her walls were freshly painted drywall
instead of 80s wood paneling and faux brick. There were actual light fixtures instead of naked bulbs. It still
wasn't huge, but it felt a lot bigger than our house. Maybe it was the pastels. Or maybe the ceilings were a bit
higher. I contemplated the fact that somebody like Sam Uley would probably have to duck under doorways in
my house.

Not that I was thinking about Sam Uley.

After making my way down the robin's egg blue hallway, I knocked on Sasha's door gently.

"Sasha?"

"Mmmmm?" she mumbled.

I could tell she was still not completely functioning, but she was awake, so I let myself in. She was sprawled
across her bed, face down, feet and hands dangling off the sides. She was still wearing the same clothes from
the night before and I chuckled a little at the sight of her, wishing I had a camera.

Instead, I settled for leaping on her.

"SAAAAAAAAAAASHA!"

"Leah! Ahhh! I hate you!" she cried, flipping over and shoving me so violently that I fell to the floor with a
thud.

I landed right on my ass, but couldn't help laughing at her.

"What the hell happened to you, huh? You seemed fine when I fake dropped you off last night."

"Oh my god, Leah. I don't think I got back until like four in the morning. Thank god Mom didn't stay up," she
mumbled into the pillow.

"I think she knows you were drinking last night. She thanked me for driving you home. I guess she assumed I
was your DD when your car wasn't here this morning."

"Oh, Christ. I haven't even….ughhhh."

"Did you have that much to drink?"

She rolled over then and sat up. I was still sitting on the floor, cross-legged.

"No. I'm not hungover. I'm just…exhausted."

"Oh, I see. Did you exert yourself last night?" I asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively. There was no point in
being subtle, really.

"Shut up, Leah!" she cried, throwing a pillow at me. "It's not like that! We were just out late, OK?" she said,

lowering her voice so her mother wouldn't overhear.

"Yeah? Out late doing what?" I asked.

"Talking, OK?"

"Don't lie to me!" I cried, throwing the pillow back at her.

"I'm not lying! I mean, we made out some. But we mostly just talked."

"Oh my god. Are you kidding? I think I just threw up in my mouth a little."

She rolled her eyes at me, just before sliding out of the bed.

"This is why I can't tell you stuff!" she said, as she walked across the room to her closet.

"What?" I asked. I was a little taken aback.

"You're so cynical about everything, Leah! Can't you just squeal like a girl with me over a boy for once?" she
asked. She was pulling clothes out of her closet, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh…" I said. Because I was kind of at a loss for words. "I'm… My bad, Sasha. I didn't know… I guess I didn't
realize you felt that way."

She finally looked up at me then, and sighed.

"Don't get me wrong. I love your snarkiness. I just… I'm really excited about this, OK? Don't ruin it for me."

"I'm not gonna ruin it! What's it matter what I think anyway?"

"It does matter, Leah! You're my best friend! I trust your judgment!"

"I don't know anything about guys! You know that!" I protested.

"You know which ones are dicks. And… It still feels good to gush every once in a while, OK? You can let me
gush as long as Danny's not a dick, right?"

"Yeah, Sasha. I'm sorry. Gush away. I really do want to hear about last night. I was just teasing. But really-what
did you guys talk about?"

She smiled at me, then, and I knew I was forgiven. One of the great things about Sasha was that she was quick
to forgive.

Great for me, at least. Not always great for her.

…

Sasha and I watched a movie that night at my house. Seth watched it with us, because we don't care enough to
exclude him just for being a pest. He's really not that bad, as far as brothers go. I just have to smack him
upside the head every once in a while when he starts talking through important scenes. Sometimes I think he
does it just to annoy me.

I can appreciate that.

After it was over, Sasha went home, because she was still pretty tired from the night before.

So I went back to the cliffs.

I was determined.

When I got there that night, I didn't walk to the edge. I didn't want to lose my nerve. I just walked up to that
spot where the boys would always begin their sprint. Then, I took off my t-shirt and dropped it on the ground.
Staring out at the stone path that lay before me, I unzipped my jeans and let them drop as well. When I
stepped out of them, there was a breeze, and I realized how fucking cold the water was going to be.

Then I wished like hell I hadn't thought about that.

Because I started thinking about all of it. I thought about how the water would feel. I thought about how I

didn't have the benefit of a fire to dry out and warm up after the dive. I thought about what it looked like
peering over the edge, and the many and varied ways Imaginary Leah had met her demise.

I tried to block it all out.

I closed my eyes, and told myself that when I opened them, I would start the sprint.

But when I opened them, I only managed two halfhearted steps forward.

I sighed and plopped to the ground, realizing I was a coward, yet again. Then, I laid back and again closed my
eyes, gritting my teeth in frustration. I blindly reached behind me and pawed at the ground behind me for my
jeans. When I finally made contact, I pulled them to me and retrieved my cigarettes from my pocket.

The ritual was so ingrained in me, that I could do it blind. I didn't even have to open my eyes to light the
cigarette. All I had to do was inhale.

And it was only after that smoke hit my lungs that I opened my eyes, to see the sky above me.

Just in time for the clouds to open up and pour down on me.

I cursed to myself as I sat up quickly and collected my clothes. Then, I frantically tried pulling my shirt on
while simultaneously hopping around in an effort to get my jeans on. I'm sure I looked ridiculous.

Not that it mattered.

By the time I got my clothes on, though, I was already drenched. It was one of those torrential downpours,
complete with thunder and lightning. I don't know how I didn't realize sooner that there was a threat of that
happening, and I thanked god that I hadn't chosen that night to dive off the cliff.

Then, I ran all the way home.

…

My shoes are not very interesting.

I know that because I spent far too much time looking at them on Monday.

It was terrible.

I walked around in constant fear of catching Sam Uley's eye. Or, really, I guess I was afraid of Sam Uley
catching my eye.

It was raining again, so I skipped my lunch time cigarette.

Just as well.

…

Tuesday, Danny asked Sasha out on a proper date.

She was ecstatic.

…

Wednesday, nothing happened.

Not one, god damned thing.

…

Thursday, school was uneventful.

The same could not be said for the Clearwater household.

It started after dinner. It was pretty late, because Mom hadn't gotten off work until eight o clock, and Dad and
I were both completely useless in the kitchen.

I'm probably a bad daughter, that way. Mom always did way too much around the house.

So, we didn't end up eating dinner until about nine, and I think she was pretty stressed from having to work
so late. She was a maid at a hotel on the highway. Some people call her a "maintenance specialist" or

whatever. But that's bullshit. She's a maid. I'll never understand why that's a dirty word.

It was as I was scraping my plate that it started.

"Leah, you got some mail today," she said. "It's on the coffee table in the living room." She was stacking dishes
in the sink, and I handed her the one I was holding.

"OK."

It wasn't something to get excited about. I got mail almost every day, but it was never anything real. It was
always just mailings from colleges. So I wandered into the living room without much enthusiasm and picked
up what turned out to be yet more crap to add to some landfill somewhere, courtesy of the University of
Washington. I could hear Seth bugging Mom in the kitchen about staying up late to watch some horror movie
that was coming on TV (which was rare, as we didn't have cable) while my Dad flopped down on the couch and
began channel surfing, completely oblivious to the fact that Seth was about to try to wrest the remote control
from him.

I walked back into the kitchen and chucked the U Dub materials in the trash and tried to help mom out.

"Shut up, Seth. That's a crappy movie, anyway. It's not worth staying up for, trust me."

"Leah!" my mom cried.

"What?" I asked, frozen. She didn't get upset often, and I wasn't sure what I had done. My eyes darted to Seth,
who was making a 'nyah nyah' face at me.

"Don't tell your brother to shut up! And why did you just throw out that mail without even opening at it! ?"

"Huh?" I asked. I was really confused.

"You don't even look at any of it! You just throw it all away! Are you even planning on applying to colleges
Leah! ?"

When I looked at Seth then, his eyes were round, and he darted out of the room, running for cover.

"Uh… Yes…?"

"Is that a question or an answer?" she demanded. Her hands were on her hips, dish towel in hand. She was
pissed.

It was weird.

"Um. I don't know. I didn't think you cared…"

"What do you mean? Of course we care! Of course we want you to go to college!"

"Really? Why? You never went. Neither did Dad."

"Leah! What's wrong with you? Do you want to spend your life scrubbing toilets like me?"

"Why not, Mom? What's wrong with that? There's nothing wrong with what you do for a living!" I protested. I
meant it. But a part of my heart was breaking, because I had never heard my mom talk about her work that
way, before. I knew she didn't particularly like her job. But who does? It killed me, though, to think that she
thought poorly of herself because of it, or that she was implying that it was degrading in some way.

"I want better for you! You're smart, Leah! You can be anything you want! Why would you want to be like me
and your father! ?"

"Why wouldn't I, Mom? There's no shame in anything you all do! And I don't need to waste four years of my life
getting some fancy degree I'll never use just to come back and live on the rez! It's not like there's a lot of jobs
around here that require degrees!"

"What are you talking about, Leah? How will there ever be those types of jobs in La Push if people don't create
them? And why do you want to limit yourself? Getting a degree only opens doors!"

"Mom! You really think I'm gonna go to college and then come back and start up my own business or
something? ?"

"Why not? You're the one who's always complaining about the lack of opportunities here! Yet you don't want
to do anything about it! You seem perfectly content to do nothing with your life!"

By then, Dad had gotten up off the couch and wandered in. He leaned in the doorway and watched, unwilling
to get involved. He was like that. He left all the fighting to me and mom.

"Yeah, but that's just…philosophical, Mom. It doesn't matter for me. I don't mind working on the rez. Or doing
like what you do in Forks. Or Dad. It's not like I need to have a bunch of money or anything"

Dad was an electrician. And actually, it was probably a bit of a stretch for me to pretend I could do that. I knew
nothing about it. And it seemed pretty complicated.

I glanced at him, and he had his eyebrows raised. It was clear I wasn't going to get any support from him.

"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with what your father and I do! I'm just saying that I don't think you
should sell yourself short! There's more opportunities for someone like you than there were when we were

your age! You shouldn't throw those away!"

"I'm not selling myself short, Mom! I just…"

I wanted to say that I didn't care. But I knew that would get me into a world of shit.

"You don't what, Leah?"

"It doesn't matter! None of it matters! Don't you see?"

"No, Leah. I don't! I don't understand why you're wasting your life! I don't understand why you don't study or
care about school or much of anything! I don't understand why you smoke those cigarettes even though
you're smart enough to know they're killing you and that it upsets us! I don't understand why you don't even
seem to care about the people around you!"

"What?"

It was like she had just split me open and my guts were pouring out onto the kitchen floor. How was it
possible that she believed any of that? How could she not see that I cared more about her and Dad and Seth
than anything? That they were the only things that mattered? She had never mentioned the smoking. How
could my smoking be interpreted as not caring about them?

I was so shocked I just stood there staring at her.

She narrowed her eyes at me. Not only was she not going to apologize for implying that I was a heartless bitch,
she also wasn't gonna back down. She threw the dish cloth over her shoulder then and turned her back on me,

returning her attention to the dishes in the sink.

I'm pretty sure my mouth was hanging open when I glanced over at my Dad. His brow was furrowed and his
lips pursed. He looked at me for a long moment before stepping behind Mom and rubbing her shoulders.

And I was suddenly aware that I had completely unwittingly become a huge source of stress for my parents.

I could feel what was left of my guts spinning in my stomach, and I felt sick. My mother's words rang in my
ears, and god damn did I need a cigarette. So I did the only thing I could think to do.

I left.

Except, I didn't light up. Instead, I ran.

I headed for the cliffs.

I looked up at the sky on my way there, to make sure there wasn't another storm threatening. There were
only a few sparse clouds.

There was no one around. It was absolutely desolate as I rounded corners quickly, nearing the beach. The
temperature had dropped that day, likely accounting for the lack of people around.

When I reached the top of the hill, I stopped. Because I wasn't going to sit on the edge that night, or peer over
it.

I shed my shirt without even really thinking about.

Then my shoes came off.

When I shimmied out of my jeans, a breeze blew the leaves on the trees and my body was suddenly covered in
goosebumps.

But it didn't matter.

I didn't even hesitate.

The second I stepped out of my jeans, I turned toward the water and broke into a sprint.

I looked straight ahead as I ran, eyes on the horizon.

When I made the leap, it was like a bound spring had been released. The thick, night air sailed past me, unable
to slow the speed at which I soared through it.

And it was just as I imagined it.

It was like flying.

In that one small moment when my body was still parallel with the water, it was the freedom I had been
longing for. It was freedom from caring about anything that had been said in my house that night, and
freedom from my fears that Danny would come between me and Sasha. It was freedom from my parents and
Ms. Call and college applications and my future. It was freedom from the annoyances of Jacob Black and Seth,
but also of my disdain for and attraction to Sam Uley. Because nothing in that moment mattered other than
how it felt to fly off that cliff.

More than anything, it was freedom from not caring about anything.

Because in that moment, I felt alive, awake, and engaged. Not only was I present in my life and in my body—I
was commanding it.

So I threw my arms back and dove, meeting the water head first.

When I did hit the water, it was almost as much of a jolt to the system as the adrenaline of the leap, because

the water was so cold. But it was also the moment my brain kicked back into gear, and the fear crept in, as I
plummeted into that dark water deeper and deeper, unable to stop the momentum of it. My eyes were closed
at the impact, which only added to my disorientation, and when I finally slowed enough to open them, it didn't
serve to calm me any, because everything was completely black. It was like being blind.

I told myself my body would seek the surface naturally, so I stretched my arms out in an effort to break what
still felt like a free fall, even in the water. That slowed me some, and then I waited a split second for my body
to stop so that I could feel the natural drift toward the surface.

Then…

I scrambled like crazy to get to that surface.

I tried to concentrate on kicking hard and swimming fluidly instead of frantically, but I think it was still pretty
frantic in the end.

I was shocked when I felt the water break and the air hit my face. It seemed like mere seconds, and I was sure
it was going to take much longer, considering it felt like I had been diving down practically to the center of the
earth.

But then: it hit me.

I had done it.

I had made the leap, and it was everything I had ever imagined and more. And I had survived.

As the water lapped over my shoulders, I threw my head back and laughed.

Because I was triumphant.

Then, I kicked my feet out ahead of me and fell to my back, floating. I stared up at the stars and smiled.
Because even though the universe was a huge place, I felt pretty significant in that moment, even if it was just

in my own tiny existence.

The only sounds were those of the waves and my heartbeat.

Until I heard a splash.

A loud one.

I kicked myself back upright and looked around, because it was much too loud to have been a fish jumping. I
scanned the waves, but I couldn't see where it had come from.

It was only when I saw a head emerge from the water that I realized someone else had followed me off the
cliff.

Which was kind of terrifying.

"Who's there?" I called.

"Leah!"

It was Sam Uley.

…

Chapter Five
…

"What are you doing here?" I whispered. I don't know why I was whispering. I guess because it was the middle
of the night.

Instead of answering, he swam toward me slowly.

He stopped mere inches from me. We stared at one another as we both awkwardly tread water. Confused, I
tried to read his face. His brow was furrowed and I realized he was probably trying to read my expression, as
well.

Then, my eyes dropped to the shoulders that peeked out of the water and the long black hair that clung to
them. My gaze followed the smooth planes of his body up to his unyielding jaw. When my eyes again met his,
his brow had smoothed. And I realized that the look on his face again mirrored my own—because his eyes
were hooded with a heavy and unadulterated lust.

He moved closer and suddenly, I felt his hand on my back. When I didn't resist, he pulled me to him and,
before I even had time to think too much about it, his lips were on mine.

God, could he kiss.

Our legs brushed against each other as we both struggled to keep afloat while our upper bodies entwined. But
everything was secondary to the way his mouth felt on mine. I had never even been kissed before, yet Sam
Uley's tongue was suddenly slipping in and out of my mouth deftly as he kept me pressed to his chest with one
hand flat on my back.

When his other hand gripped my neck and our mouths began moving faster, I knew that he had been driven as
mad as I had. I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly, and when he moaned, it set me on fire.

Then, the hand on my neck slid down into the water to cup my breast, and I was reminded that there was
nothing soft about Sam Uley. His body was lean and firm, just like the way he touched me. His hands moved
with a rough determination. There were no sweet caresses or light kisses. When his mouth moved off of mine
and down my neck, he pressed his lips and tongue to me in a way that made me moan.

And I realized that there was something between Sam Uley and I.

But just when I thought I might scream, he stopped.

His head fell back and he released a heavy sigh, before looking at me.

"Come on."

…

He let go of me so suddenly that I realized for the first time that he had actually been the one keeping us
afloat, as my chin dipped into the water momentarily before I buoyed myself back above the surface. But then
I felt his fingers interlace with my own and he began swimming. We began swimming.

It was only as we closed in on the shore that my brain started to register what was happening. It was hard to
think, because the lust was making my head fuzzy. But I was pretty sure Sam and I were about to have sex.

And I was pretty sure that there was nothing I wanted more.

His toes touched sand before mine, because he was taller, but he still gripped my hand. After a few more
strokes, I felt the sand under my own feet, and righted myself. Then, he walked toward the beach as quickly as
the water would allow and I tripped along behind him in an effort to keep up.

The cold air was biting and, for the first time, I looked down and realized that I was already virtually naked,
with nothing but my ocean-soaked, white cotton underwear clinging to me.

I wondered why Sam was there at the cliffs that night.

But I didn't really care.

When we emerged completely, he glanced back at me, and I met his gaze. I didn't want him to think there was
any fear or doubt in my mind. Because I knew what I wanted.

I wanted to fuck Sam Uley.

I expected him to pull me down into the sand, but he didn't. Still clasping my hand, he kept walking quickly,

and I followed. I wondered where we were going, but I didn't ask.

I didn't really care.

As we approached the tree line, I realized he was perhaps seeking cover. Maybe he was afraid someone would
see us, or maybe he was just trying to escape the breeze that came off the water.

Again, it wasn't my primary concern as my eyes traced the arcs of the shoulder blades that moved in step with
the rest of his body.

Lean.

Firm.

Before diving, he had stripped to his boxer shorts, which were white and clung to him with a transparency
gifted me by the moonlight. My eyes were transfixed on the smooth, perfect curves that lay beneath.

Thus, I hardly noticed that we were surrounded by trees when he stopped suddenly. He turned and pulled me
closer, releasing my hand, only to place both of his own on my face. I met his lips with mine before he even
had the opportunity to pull my face to his, and I knew from the way he breathed as he kissed me that it had set
him off.

I put my arms around his waist, digging my fingers into those curves that had taunted me up the beach. It was
like it didn't matter that I had no experience with what we were about to do, because it was impossible not to
do exactly what I was doing in that moment. It was a moment that blew every mundane fantasy I had ever had
out of the water.

"Oh god, Leah," he moaned, throwing his head back again. I pressed my lips into his neck, realizing he was
granting me access to that beautiful throat I had envisioned so many times. Then, I felt his hands move from

my face to my body. He planted one hand firmly on the small of my back again as the other clutched my breast.
And as he moved closer to me, I realized he was guiding me backwards a few steps. His mouth again met mine
as he pressed himself against me and me against a tree.

Thus, I simultaneously felt Sam Uley's erection pressing into my hip and the rough tree bark pressing into my
back.

And it felt good.

He dipped his head down to my neck just long enough to drag his lips across it and grab my leg under the
knee. Then, he lifted my leg around him until I was straddling him and I became vaguely aware of the contrast
between the cold wetness of the ocean water that dripped down me and the warm wetness from me.

I didn't need his cue, though, to wrap my other leg around him. He put his arms around me to hold me to him,
suspended between his chest and the tree as his tongue pushed against mine.

My arms were around his neck, then, and I was so fixated on the pulsing between my thighs that I didn't even
realize my hands clutched his hair perhaps a bit too fiercely. Everything was happening so fast.

"Oh god," I moaned.

"Leah," he breathed.

"Do it," I said. Because I had no idea what I was doing. I knew I wanted it, but he was going to have to take the
lead.

Then, I felt one of his hands let go of my waist, and he shifted his weight some, but his lips never left my skin,
working their way urgently over my face and neck and mouth. It was exhilarating.

It was terrifying.

When I felt his fingers between my legs, I almost forgot to breath.

He pushed the wet cotton aside just before lowering me onto him.

I gasped from the pain, tensing my muscles and my grip around him.

And then I felt his hand release my underwear as he leaned into the tree for support. I braced myself, as he
began rocking into me.

As the pain inside me began to dull, it was replaced with the pain of the tree digging into my naked back. I
could feel it tearing my skin with every one of his thrusts.

It burned.

It felt exactly right.

I wanted to scream from the perfect ecstasy of it all.

…

I knew it was over when his entire body tensed and he let out a guttural cry.

I loved that I had made him make that noise.

I loved that Sam Uley had lost control.

His head fell to my shoulder then and we both panted, catching our breath. I unwound my legs from around
him and my feet found the ground hesitantly. I didn't let go of him right away, because my legs felt like
spaghetti.

He didn't let go of me right away, either, but I began to panic when I realized there was a risk we would have

to talk about what had just happened between us.

I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want Sam to see the blood that was surely dripping down my thighs and
my back.

I was terrified he would apologize.

I was terrified he wouldn't.

The moment I felt my legs return to normal, I let go of him. He lifted his head from my shoulder then and
looked at me, but his arms were still hanging loosely around my waist.

Loosely enough that it took little effort to break free from him.

Then, I ran.

It hurt, because I was barefoot, and there were rocks and twigs that pierced the bottoms of my feet, but I
didn't slow down. I couldn't. I heard him call my name, but I couldn't face him. I barely slowed down enough to
snatch up my clothes and my shoes when I reached the top of the cliff. I kept sprinting, nearly all the way

home.

As I began nearing houses, I stopped only long enough to pull on my jeans and shoes. Then, I continued

running as I pulled my shirt back on.

I was so hot and sweaty from the run by the time I reached our house that the cold ocean water was a distant
memory. I stopped outside the house and doubled over, panting.

As I caught my breath, I realized what a mess I was. I stumbled around to the back of the house, crawling into
my window. I glanced at the clock, disappointed that it still wasn't even midnight. It felt like I had lived a
lifetime in the span of what was likely not much more than an hour.

The house was quiet and dark, so I knew my family was asleep. I also knew there was a risk taking a shower

would wake my parents, but I couldn't not take a shower. So I slipped out of my room and into the hallway as
quietly as possible.

It was dark, and I closed the bathroom door behind me before turning on the light, which burned my eyes. I
covered them a moment before they adjusted. Then, I began stripping off my clothes. When I saw the blood
stains on my shirt and underwear, I put the stopper in the sink and ran some cold water in it, with some soap.
Then, I dropped in the soiled pieces and pushed them down into the water, watching them bubble up as they
languidly resisted my drowning them. I was too drained to do anything other than let them soak while I
showered.

When they became sufficiently saturated to sink to the bottom of the water, I turned to the shower, wincing as
the shower rings screeched against the rod when I pushed the shower curtain aside. The water itself was even
louder, as it groaned to life when I twisted the handles.

I waited until the water was nearly scalding and the room had filled with steam. Then, I stepped under the
steady spray. Water pressure was one thing our house didn't lack. As the water hit my back, the searing sting

of it was nearly unbearable.

And it was only then, as I washed him off of me, that I began to wonder how many girls Sam Uley had slept
with. It was only then that I thought about the fact that we hadn't used a condom. Sam Uley didn't even know
that I was on birth control. For all he knew, he had just impregnated me.

The burning never abated.

My back was on fire.

And as I watched the blood swirl around and down the drain at my feet, red and bright against the white tub, I
knew running had been the right decision.

And yet…fucking him didn't feel like the wrong one.

…

I slept on my stomach that night, what little I slept. When I woke up and looked in the mirror the following
morning, I turned around and lifted my t-shirt, examining where the cuts on my back had puffed up and begun
to scab over.

And I smiled.

…

I spent a lot of time Friday staring at my shoes again. That, and trying to remember not to sit back against

chairs too quickly.

At lunch, I needed a cigarette bad.

Fortunately, it was raining, so I at least had an excuse for the gall with which I asked Sasha if I could use her
car to smoke in.

"Please," I pleaded.

"No! Gross! You need to quit, Leah. I'm not gonna be your enabler."

"Sasha, just this one time, I promise. It's… I'm desperate, OK?"

"If you're that desperate, you can stand in the rain. I'll loan you my umbrella, if you want."

I sighed. Because Sasha's umbrella wouldn't protect me from Sam Uley. But I took it from her anyway.

"Thanks," I mumbled, heading for the cafeteria door.

I briefly considered going to my usual spot, because I didn't want Sam Uley to have that much control over my
life. That was the only reason I was even at school that day. I refused to allow what happened to interfere with
my routine. But sacrificing my smoking spot on a rainy day seemed slightly less irrational, particularly
considering the fact that I was pretty sure he would corner me there. I decided to go behind the gym. At least
there'd be other people there, and he surely wouldn't try to confront me about my post-fuck disappearing act
in public.

Right?

I stared at my shoes as I tripped past the school building and then broke into a jog through the no man's land

between the school and the gym, with the hood of my sweatshirt pulled up. I hated umbrellas. I found them
awkward and cumbersome, and I was going to utilize Sasha's as little as possible.

When I turned the corner around the back of the gym, I looked up and scanned the faces anxiously.
Fortunately, he wasn't there. I tried not to make eye contact with the others as I opened the umbrella. The
rain had really started to come down, necessitating its use. I fumbled with my one free hand for my lighter
and cigarettes. It took me a right minute to get myself in order, probably in part because I only had one hand

to work with, but probably also in part because my nerves were shot. I told myself there was a chance Sam
wouldn't even notice me, with my hoodie pulled over my face, in the last place he would look for me. I never
smoked behind the gym. I hoped that maybe he was still avoiding it, as well.

God, I needed that cigarette.

Unfortunately, the wind kept aborting all of my attempts to light it, as I couldn't use my other hand to cup
around it as a shield.

It was just as I was trying to awkwardly tuck the umbrella handle under my arm to free up my other hand that
I heard the flick of the lighter and looked up to see a perfect flame poised at the tip of my cigarette.

I froze.

And then I inhaled, praying the hands cupping the flame weren't the same ones that had been all over me the
night before.

But I knew they were, even before I looked at his face.

I'd have known those hands anywhere.

"Thanks," I mumbled, without meeting his eyes.

He shifted himself between me and the other smokers, then, his back to them.

"How's your back?" he asked quietly.

I still didn't look up. I just ashed my cigarette as I answered.

"Fine."

Then, I took another draw.

"Leah."

"What?" I asked, impatient. I looked up at him, then. He was getting pelted by the rain, the hood of his jacket
the only thing protecting him. When I saw the look on his face, I wanted to punch him, because it was filled
with pity.

"Are we really not gonna talk about this?" he asked.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"That's precisely what we're gonna do."

He stepped closer to me then, so that we were sharing the umbrella.

It was uncomfortably close.

I could feel his breath on my face.

"Do you regret it?" he whispered.

"No," I said, meeting his gaze. Because I wasn't going to let him think that I was some sad sack. I wasn't going
to let him think that he had seduced me or taken advantage of me. I wasn't going to let him think that I hadn't

been in complete control.

Plus, I didn't regret it.

I took another long draw of my cigarette, then, as he stared at me. Because I had a feeling I wasn't going to get
to smoke the whole thing.

"Why did you run?" he asked.

"I gotta go," I said, flicking my cigarette into one of the many muddy puddles that were forming in the grass.
Then, I shoved the umbrella into his hand before sticking my hands in my pockets and running back to the
cafeteria.

I'd buy Sasha another umbrella.

…

I don't know why I didn't tell Sasha.

I guess it just all felt so…outside of the realm in which she and I operated together. Sure, we talked about guys
and sex and everything else. But how could I tell her that Sam Uley had fucked me against a tree until I bled?
And that I'd liked it? She would think I was crazy.

It was like why I never tried to explain the cigarettes to her.

I actually didn't even tell her about the fight with my parents.

It worked out, considering she had a date with Danny that night, and she was entirely capable of carrying
most of any actual conversations we had.

But it did make me worry that there was something growing between us.

And maybe it wasn't Danny.

…

Seth was the only one home when I got back from school that day. That was fortunate, because I had no idea
how to deal with what had happened with my parents.

It sucked, because I didn't want to be around the house when they got home, but Sasha was busy. Without a
car, that meant I was pretty much limited to wandering.

I couldn't go to the cliffs or the beach, as I knew they'd likely be crowded with other people.

After dumping my school stuff in my room, I grabbed my last fresh pack of cigarettes before stepping out to
the street.

I turned east, and I walked.

I didn't really have a destination.

Just…away from people.

And as I pulled out what would be the first of many cigarettes, I thought about the fact that I would need to
talk Sasha into driving into Forks soon.

…

I had probably walked two miles down La Push Road when it started to rain again. I pulled the hood of my
sweatshirt back up and continued walking. What was a little rain when I felt perpetually damp, anyway?

It wasn't long, though, before a truck slowed next to me. The window rolled down just as I looked up.

"Leah! Wanna ride?"

It was Yos.

"Where?" I asked.

"Wherever. You're getting soaked!" he shouted over the beating rain.

"Where are you headed?"

"We're going to Forks to pick up some stuff at Newton's for a camping trip this weekend. You wanna come?"

When he said 'we,' I panicked, leaning forward to see who was in the passenger seat for the first time. But it
was only Paul.

"Yeah, sure," I said. "Can we make a stop for cigarettes?"

Yos put the truck in park and hopped out, then, to let me slide in between him and Paul, who nodded at me.

"Sure," he said, jumping back in after me and slamming the car door shut. When he threw the car back into
gear, I began to feel a little self conscious about the fact that I was dripping all over the cab of the truck. "Were
you… You weren't walking to Forks for cigarettes, were you?" he asked.

"No. I was just…going for a walk," I said, shrugging.

"In the rain?"

"It wasn't raining when I left."

He only shook his head then, like I was crazy.

I was becoming increasingly concerned that maybe I was crazy.

I didn't know whether Yos let people smoke in his truck or not, but realized it was a moot point considering I
was riding bitch.

When he pulled into the gas station and parked, he kept the car idling while I ran in and got a carton of
cigarettes. I was only seventeen, but no one ever carded in Forks-maybe because they needed the business
that bad. Teenagers probably made up the majority of smokers in the area.

Paul jumped out of the passenger side and held the door open for me as I ran back through the rain to the
truck. As Yos pulled away from the station, he asked me if I wanted to go camping with them. When I thought
about it, I realized it was the perfect way to get away from all the shit that was going on for a little while. But
then I also realized that Yos was a friend of Sam Uley's.

"Who's going?" I asked.

"Me, Paul, Zed, Cal, and Isaiah. You'd be the only chick, but I don't think anyone would mind. And you can
share a tent with the two of us," he said, nodding toward Paul, "as long as you don't mind."

I thought about it for a second.

"Yeah. Sure. I'm in."

…

After the guys picked up some kind of fancy cooking equipment from Newton Outfitters, they drove me back
to my house.

"We can pick you back up in like thirty minutes, on our way out to the mountains."

"No! Give me two minutes," I begged. I didn't want to get stuck in the house long enough for my parents to
come home. I still didn't know how to talk to them, and I had no desire to deal with any of it that day.

"Yeah, alright," he answered. "But the meter's runnin'."

"Thanks! I'll be right back!"

Paul again let me out and I sprinted into the house, flying past a wide-eyed Seth, who was parked in front of

the TV in the living room. After darting into my room and the bathroom to grab my backpack and stuff it with
a few essentials, I ran back out the front door, only to realize I probably needed to at least tell Seth where I
was going. I poked my head back in and looked at him.

"Tell Mom and Dad I'm camping this weekend with some friends from school."

"Huh?"

"Are you deaf?"

"No! But… Did you get permission?"

"Shut up, Seth! Just do it!"

Then, I slammed the door behind me and sprinted back through the rain to the truck.

When I slid back in between them, it felt good. I didn't know exactly where we were headed or what the plan
was, but…that in and of itself was kind of nice. So instead of thinking about how badly I wanted a cigarette, I
watched the rain beat down on the windshield as the wipers squeaked back and forth and wondered what the
weekend would hold.
…



Chapter Six
…

"What's up with you and Sam?" Yos asked as he handed me the joint.

"Huh?"

I was high, but his question had still caught me completely off guard. The six of us were sitting around the
campfire, as it had finally stopped raining. Up to that point, we hadn't been talking about much of anything of

substance.

"I've seen you two talking at school and stuff. I was just wondering if there was something going on there."

I took a drag of the joint and passed it to Zed. The others were all quiet and looking at me, which made me
uncomfortable—not only because people had picked up on something between me and Sam Uley, but also
because it was the first time since we had gotten there that I didn't feel like 'just one of the guys.'

"Nothing," I answered.

"Yeah? You sure?" Yos pressed.

I glanced over at him. He was seated next to me, and I couldn't tell whether I was making it easy to read my
discomfort.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm sure."

"It's cool, Leah. No need to get defensive. Just…inquiring minds and all that," he said.

So apparently he could read my defensiveness.

"OK. I just… I don't know why…. Never mind," I stammered, looking at the ground. Yos chuckled a little.

"Alright, then. Now that we've got that all sorted out, who wants to throw the friz?" he asked.

"In the dark?" I asked.

"Sure," Paul answered, holding up a Frisbee that was glowing.

"Oh. Cool."

And then we tossed the Frisbee for the rest of the night, high as kites. I have no idea what time we went to bed.

I wasn't wearing a watch and I don't think any of us were paying attention. But it was pretty awesome
collapsing into the tent, completely exhausted.

….

On Saturday, we went for a hike. The guys were all worried I couldn't handle it. Supposedly they were all
hardcore outdoorsmen, and there was more than one of them who steadied me with a hand on my wrist or my
waist as we climbed, reminding me of that night on the beach when I had longed for exactly that, watching
Danny and Sasha. But it just felt insulting that afternoon.

By the time we got to the top of the trail, which offered a stunning overlook of the valley in which we were
camping, I was definitely huffing and puffing. But I'm sure that was from the cigarettes.

We all sat down on the rock surface while Zed pulled out a bowl and we passed it around. I began wondering
to what degree they were actually outdoorsmen versus just glorified stoners. But I didn't refuse the bowl
when Yos handed it to me, because getting high was a lot easier than getting introspective that day.

So maybe I wasn't so different from the guys, after all.

After we smoked that bowl, we spread out all over the sun-warmed rock surface, splayed out on our backs
and stomachs. The sun felt so good on my back, as I rested my head on my hands. I didn't even mind the
perspiration that dripped down the sides of my face. I just closed my eyes and focused on flying.

Unfortunately, my memories of flying off the cliff were always followed by my memories of Sam Uley. It wasn't
necessarily a bad thing, when I compartmentalized that night from the implications of that night. Except that
my blood was running a little extra hot when I heard Yos's voice in my ear.

"Leah, wake up."

"Hm?" I mumbled, opening my eyes and squinting into the sunlight. I hadn't even realized I had fallen asleep.
Maybe because the dream had been so vivid.

"We gotta head back down before the sun starts to set."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, sitting up and grabbing my stuff. Then, Yos offered his hand and I grabbed it. He pulled me
to my feet. The others had already started back down the trail.

"You did good today," Yos said as we followed. He was behind me, so I did a half-turn, looking at him.

"Huh?"

"The hike. You did good."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "Did you think I wasn't gonna be able to make it or something?"

"You smoke like a billion cigarettes a day, Leah! And it wasn't a bunny hike."

I kept walking, because the others were already about fifty feet ahead of us, but I was shaking my head.

"You smoke, too, Yos," I said, watching the rocks and sticks under my feet. I definitely wasn't going to live it
down if I tripped, particularly considering the tone of our conversation.

"Yeah, but not like you. Plus, I was gonna be in a world of shit for bringing the chick if you couldn't keep up."

"What the hell?" I cried, stopping and turning to face him.

"Exactly what I said, Leah! So keep up, alright?" he shot back, grinning and nodding toward the others. I glared
at him, but turned and sped up my pace a bit to catch the others. We didn't talk much the rest of the way
down, but Yos did laugh a little when I pulled out a cigarette and started smoking about halfway through.

…

When we got back to camp, Paul started throwing his stuff in Yos's truck while the others started another fire
for dinner.

"What's Paul doing?" I asked.

"Oh, he's going back early. His aunt has surgery tomorrow morning. I told him he could take my truck. There's
room in the other car for us," he assured me.

"Oh."

I couldn't tell if he really hadn't thought much about it or if he was just trying not to acknowledge the fact that
that meant he and I would be alone in the tent that night.

…

After dinner, we smoked another bowl and stayed up talking. Most of the guys were seniors, so I guess I

shouldn't have been that surprised when the conversation turned to college, considering the school year was
winding down. But it was still a little weird for me, as they were all stoners. It was really hard to envision any
of them in college.

"My cousin says he's got this really cool professor that he goes and drinks with sometimes after class. He's like
this cool old dude who marched on Washington and stuff, and he always buys his students a round," Zed said.

Leave it to Zed to make college about drinking.

Not that that was an entirely new notion.

"Oh yeah? That's cool. What school?" Yos asked.

"U Dub."

"Yeah? You gotta ask him what professor so I can enroll in one of his classes," Yos said.

"You're going to U Dub?" I asked. It dawned on me that I really didn't know all that much about Yos. I certainly
hadn't pegged him for the college type.

"Yep. Planning on majoring in business."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Don't act so surprised!"

"I… I didn't mean it like that. I just… I guess I think of you as a peer and college isn't really on my radar," I said.

"Dude, you're almost a senior."

"Yeah, but…" I shrugged, unwilling to finish the sentence that had been getting me into a lot of trouble of late.
Yos didn't press it. He just shrugged. Then, he stood up and stretched.

"I'm exhausted. I'm calling it a night. See you guys in the morning," he said.

"Yeah, I'm going to bed, too," Isaiah added, standing. Everyone started cleaning up their stuff and heading to
the tents, then. It became apparent that everyone was going to bed.

I wasn't ready to go to bed, yet, though. I wanted to smoke a cigarette.

Alone.

I watched as the other three all headed toward their tent. Isaiah and Zed took leaks first, and I could hear Cal
snoring by the time they made it back to the tent. Yos wasn't in my eyeline, but he was hovering. I think he
was tying up some food remnants somewhere where the bears wouldn't smell them or something. Then, I
heard him walking toward me. Fortunately, I had already lit the cigarette.

"You coming?" he asked.

"I'm gonna smoke this cigarette first," I said, glancing up at him.

"Cool."

He turned then and after listening to his footsteps retreating, I could hear him unzipping the tent behind me.

Part of me wanted to wait until I was sure he was asleep before I joined him in the tent.

Part of me didn't.

It didn't take me long to smoke that cigarette. Maybe only three minutes. The whole time, I thought about the
sex with Sam Uley—wondering if sex with Yos would be the same. Then, I flicked the butt of my cigarette in
the glowing embers of what was left of the fire just before turning and walking to the tent.

Yos was silent as I unzipped it and crawled in and, for a minute, I wondered if he had actually fallen asleep as
quickly as Cal had. But then he spoke.

"Did anyone douse the fire?" he asked.

"Oh. Shit. No. I'll go do that."

"Nah, I got it."

I was gonna protest, since he was already lying down, but he slipped on his sandals and was out of the tent
before I could say anything else. I listened, and used the opportunity to take off my bra, reaching under my

shirt and unclasping it. I pulled the straps off my shoulders inside the shirt just as I heard the hiss of the water
hitting the ashes of the fire. I had just enough time to pull the bra out of my sleeve and toss it in the corner as I
heard Yos's footsteps return to the tent. I was sitting bolt upright when he crawled back inside.

"Aw, honey. You didn't have to wait up," he teased.

"It's too dark for you to see me rolling my eyes at you," I said. "But I am."

"Are you alright?" he asked. "Do you need an extra blanket or anything?"

"No. I was just…getting situated."

"Oh. OK. Goodnight then," he said, flopping back down to the ground. He was still fully clothed, and apparently

sleeping on top of his sleeping bag.

"Aren't you gonna get cold?" I asked.

"Nah. Not yet. Maybe after it cools off some."

His eyes were closed, already, so I crawled into my sleeping bag.

"Yos?" I whispered.

"Yeah?"

His eyes were still closed.

"What are you gonna do with a business degree?" I asked.

He opened his eyes then, and I could just barely see the whites of them in the dark. We were facing each other.

"I don't know. I was thinking maybe I could start some kind of boating business; take tourists out fishing or
something. Something that would be good for the rez."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I don't know. I was just…wondering."

He didn't respond, but he didn't close his eyes, either. We were still looking at each other. I could hear his
breathing, slow and even.

"You know," he whispered, finally. "I think I was wrong."

"About what?"

"I think I'm gonna get cold. You got room for me over there?"

I only hesitated for about a second. Before I realized it didn't matter if I slept with Yos.

"Yeah. I do."

…

Sex with Yos was different than with Sam Uley. Yos was…soft. In that way, I suppose it was the exact opposite
of sex with Sam Uley. Yos was full of the sweet caresses and light kisses. He also talked a lot more. He was
constantly asking me if what he did was OK. When he ran his hand over my back and I hissed involuntarily, he

asked me what happened. He could feel the scabs. I insisted it was nothing, but he insisted that I be on top. He
didn't want to hurt me.

Sex with Yos was...sweet.

Sex with Yos was nowhere near as good as sex with Sam Uley.

When it was over, I rolled off of him, only to have him wrap himself around me. He kissed the nape of my neck
a few times before burying his head there. I stilled, wondering if he was going to make me talk to him or if he
was going to sleep. Every muscle in my body tensed as I waited.

It didn't take long, though, for his breath to even out, indicating he had fallen asleep.

I felt suffocated, in that hot tent, his sweaty body trapping mine.

The only thing I wanted more than for Yos to remain asleep was to wriggle free from him. So after a few more
minutes of listening to his breathing and feeling it on the back of my neck, I slipped out of his grasp carefully,
trying not to wake him.

But he stirred. When his head popped up, I whispered.

"Just going for a smoke."

His head fell back to the sleeping bag then.

I was in too much of a hurry and it was too dark for me to try to get dressed without waking him further, so I

just grabbed my cigarettes and a stray blanket and wrapped it around myself.

I sat outside smoking each cigarette very deliberately as I reflected on the sex. I wondered if it was my fault it
hadn't been better. I wondered if it was because I was on top. I wondered if Yos had enjoyed it.

I wondered if the sex with Sam had been a fluke. Really, neither of them had given me an orgasm. But it hadn't
even mattered with Sam. I wondered if the sex with Sam had just been so good because I had still been riding

the high from the dive. Or if it was because it was my first time.

Or if it was because there was something wrong with me.

I smoked the rest of my pack before I resigned myself to returning to the tent. When I crawled in, Yos was still
asleep on top of my sleeping bag, so I passed out on his.

…

When I woke up the next morning, I was glad Yos was still asleep, because I was still naked. I pulled on my
clothes quickly and crept out of the tent, trying not to wake him.

When I saw the looks on the faces of the other guys, who were already eating breakfast, I realized they had
heard what had happened the night before. They were all trying not to smile.

I had a feeling I was supposed to feel humiliated, but I didn't.

I didn't feel much of anything.

Fortunately, we didn't stay long that day. After breakfast, we broke down the tents. Yos didn't say anything to
me about the sex, but I noticed he hovered a little closer that day, and touched me maybe a little more than
was necessary. Each time, I found an excuse to move away from him.

The car ride back to La Push was the worst. All five of us were crammed into Zed's Civic. I was sitting in the
middle of the backseat and Yos, of course, sat next to me. He threw his arm over my shoulder, like we were a
couple or something. I realized trying to shrug it off would just make it a bigger deal than it was, so I just sat
and stared out the window on the side opposite Yos.

They dropped me off first, and I thought for a second I was going to be able to make a clean break, since the
other guys were all there. But Yos had to get out of the car to let me out, and he helped me retrieve some of my
stuff from where it was strapped to the roof of the car.

"Thanks," I mumbled, as he handed me my bag.

He rested his hand on the car and leaned forward, cornering me.

"I'm really glad you came, Leah," he said.

"Yeah. Um. Me too. Thanks for inviting me."

"We should do it again some time."

"Uh. My parents are probably gonna kill me. Especially if they see a car full of guys dropping me off. I gotta go."

His brow furrowed, but he righted himself, freeing me from his lean.

"Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure. Bye, Yos." Then I ducked my head down and looked at the others. "Bye, guys!"

I ran toward the house as I heard them mumbling their goodbyes.

Then I saw my mom watching from the window.

…

Mom doesn't yell very often. Dad usually stays out of disciplining his kids entirely, unless Mom asks him to
step in or we do something really crazy. But when he does, he yells. Mom, on the other hand—she just gets
sad. It's more like that 'I'm-really-disappointed-in-you' tone of voice that makes the guilt soul-crushing.

I really prefer the yelling.

At least when she's mad at me, I can get mad back.

That day, Dad wasn't home.

Mom didn't even say anything to me right away, when I walked in. Maybe because Seth was standing in the
kitchen, making a sandwich. But when I went into my room to drop my stuff on the floor, she followed. And
when she entered my room, she closed the door behind her. So I knew I was in for it.

I sat down on the bed, because it looked like we were gonna be there for a while.

"Where have you been?" she asked, staring down at me.

"I was in the mountains, camping."

"Leah, I just saw four men drop you off."

"Yeah, Ma," I sighed. "I was with the guys. This isn't the Victorian era. It's possible to have platonic
relationships with persons of the opposite sex."

"What I saw didn't look very platonic."

She sat down in the chair at my desk then and stared at me, waiting.

"That's because Yos wishes it wasn't. I can't control that."

"Are you having sex, Leah?"

"No."

I answered without even really thinking about it. It was only after I answered that I realized I was, in fact,
sexually active.

"What if your father had been home right now? It would have killed him to see those boys dropping you off.
He's giving himself an ulcer imagining you off in the mountains having sex with god-knows-who. We didn't
even know who you were with, Leah! Sasha called the house looking for you and we didn't even know what to
tell her! All we knew was that Seth saw you jump into someone's truck in the pouring rain with a backpack
and that you told him you were going camping!"

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just didn't want to make the guys wait. It's not like you or Dad have cell phones. They
invited me at the last minute."

"You could have called us at work, Leah!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't think about that!"

"Who were you with?"

"Yos and his friends."

"Seniors?"

"Some of them. But I'm going to be a senior in a couple of months. It's not like I'm Seth."

"Leah," she sighed. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing, Mom. I swear. I just…I didn't know you guys were so stressed out about me and college and the
smoking and stuff. It kind of stressed me out. I thought maybe it would be good for everyone if we got out of
each other's hair this weekend."

"You thought it would stress us out less if you ran off to the mountains with a bunch of boys to spend the
night?"

"Mom! It wasn't like that! We hiked! We played Frisbee! It was nothing, OK?"

"I don't know what to do anymore, Leah. I feel like you're too old to punish anymore. I really don't think
grounding you would accomplish much of anything, anyway. I doubt you'd even care."

"Mom. I'm sorry. I… I won't do it again. I wasn't thinking."

"I'm not going to tell your father who you were with. As far as he's concerned, you were with a bunch of

girlfriends," she said, standing up.

"OK."

Then, she walked out, closing the door behind her again.

…

School on Monday was alright, at first. Until lunch time. That was when Sasha found me at the end of the
football field.

"Leah!" she cried, sitting down next to me and grabbing my wrist, like it was something really urgent. I
thought initially it was going to be something about Danny.

"What's up?" I asked, ashing my cigarette with my free hand. Her eyes were wide, but that wasn't so
uncommon with Sasha.

"What's going on?"

"Huh?"

Sasha gave me a ride to school every morning, so we had already discussed the camping trip. She had been
worried she was supposed to cover for me for the weekend, but I assured her everything was fine, and gave
her the same line about Frisbee and hiking that I gave my mom, though I didn't bother editing out the drug
use for Sasha.

I did, however, omit the sex with Yos.

"Why is everyone saying you and Yos had sex! ?"

"What?"

"Oh my god, Leah! Everyone's talking about it! He's lying to people! I think we have to castrate him!"

"Oh," I breathed, realizing Yos was about to be in a world of shit with Sasha if I didn't set her straight. It
probably wasn't even his fault that the whole school knew. It was probably the guys who had overheard us.

"What do you mean, 'oh'! ? Is it true?" she cried, tightening her grip on my wrist.

"Uh. Yeah. Kinda."

"What! ?"

I thought her eyes were gonna bug out of her head.

"It's not a big deal," I said, hoping, rather than believing that she would agree with me.

"How can you say that! Oh my god, Leah! You lost your virginity and you didn't even tell me! ? What the hell! ?"

I shrugged.

"I don't know. It just… It really wasn't a big deal. I was there. He was there. It just…happened."

"Are you kidding?" she asked, grabbing my other wrist, in an effort to force me to make eye contact with her,
which I had been avoiding up to that point. When I glanced up, she was looking at me like I was crazy. Which

was exactly what I had been dreading.

"Nope. That's pretty much all there is to know. I probably would have told you eventually."

"Didn't you like it? He didn't hurt you or anything, did he?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. He was really sweet. It was fine."

"Wow. You do not sound that enthusiastic about it."

I wanted to tell her I had had better. But I had absolutely no desire to tell her about Sam Uley.

"I guess I'm not. I don't plan on doing it with him again."

"Does he know that?" she asked, glancing toward the building and releasing my wrists, finally.

"I don't know. Why?"

"He just… I think he was about to come out here and find you when I headed him off."

"Oh shit. Really?" I asked, just before taking another drag of my cigarette.

"Yes! Oh god, Leah. You don't like him?"

"I like him fine, Sasha. I just… I'd rather just be friends with him."

"Then why did you sleep with him? Why did you lose it to him?"

"Why not?"

She just stared at me then. It was definitely one of those moments when Sasha and I were operating on
different planes. And I think she was just realizing it. She sat back.

"OK. OK. I'm… Just give me a second to wrap my head around this, OK?"

"Sure," I said, shrugging.

"Christ," she whispered, staring at the ground. Then, she looked up at me. "Did it hurt?"

"Uh. Not really. Maybe a little."

"Did you use protection?"

"Yeah."

"Was it scary?"

"Not really."

"Did you like it at all?"

"Sure."

She fell silent, then, ostensibly to process it all. Then, she looked up again, as if suddenly remembering
something.

"What about Sam Uley?"

"Huh?"

"I thought there was something going on between you and Sam. Not Yos. Aren't they friends? Do you not like
either of them? Because I'm pretty sure I could find some other girls to line up for them."

She was getting a little irritating, then. Like there was something wrong with me. So I stood up, brushing the
dirt off my jeans.

"Let them," I said.

"Leah!" she cried.

But I was done with the conversation.

...



Chapter Seven
…

That night, I returned to the cliffs.

Again, I didn't hesitate. The moment I shed my clothing, I broke into a sprint and dove.

As soon as I surfaced in the water, I swam to the shore and climbed up the steep path and dove again.

Then I did it again.

And again.

It was impossible to think about Sasha or my parents or Sam or Yos when I was flying through the air. It was
impossible to think about anything but the feeling of it.

I must have repeated it a dozen times.

I dove and swam and hiked until my legs and arms felt like jelly and my throat burned from breathing in the
damp, salty air.

The last time I climbed up that path, feeling as though my heart might explode, I sank down to the ground at
the edge of the cliff.

As I sat there, I half expected Sam Uley to come creeping out of the woods. I had given some thought to how he
appeared that first night, and it didn't make much sense, unless he hung around the cliffs at night, too.

I wasn't expecting it when his old truck came rumbling up the hill. I only knew it was his because the
headlights weren't on, and I could dimly see the white paint. His windows were down, but I didn't hear any
music—only the crunch of the rocks under his tires.

I didn't even think to try to grab my clothes, which were lying about ten yards behind me. I was too exhausted
to watch with anything but bored curiosity, really.

When he leapt out of the truck, a cigarette dangled from his lips and he began walking toward me. But
something was different. He wasn't surrounded with his usual cloud of intensity. He didn't move with slow
deliberation. Instead, he almost had a bounce in his step. It was as if he had deigned to come down from the
heavens and interact with the plain people.

Just as I raised my eyebrows at him, he froze. Then, he held up one index finger, indicating that I should wait,
just before turning on his heel and returning to the truck.

Apparently, he had forgotten something.

When he got to the truck, he stuck his head in the window and leaned in, reaching for something.

Unfortunately, his ass was still ethereal.

When he backed back out of the window, he had something bundled in his right hand.

As he approached, I realized it was a blanket. The look in his eyes was casual, as he tossed it to me, the
cigarette still hanging from his mouth limply.

"Thanks," I mumbled, as he walked around behind me and sat down at my side. He squinted at me as I
wrapped the blanket around myself, pulling the cigarette from his lips finally and exhaling slowly from the
corner of his mouth. It was as if he was trying to figure out what he was looking at.

I guess we were both trying to figure out what he was looking at.

We were both silent, then—just looking at each other, waiting for the other to say something.

Finally, he spoke.

"How was camping?" he asked quietly.

"How'd you know?"

"Everybody knows, Leah."

His tone was almost plaintive, like he was begging me to see what we both already knew.

I sighed then, my eyes returning to the water. I suppose I did know that it hadn't taken long for tales of my
camping misadventures to spread throughout La Push. Sam reached into his pocket then and pulled out his
Reds, offering them to me.

"Thanks," I mumbled again as I pulled one out.

He had a flame from his lighter waiting for me before the filter even hit my lips. I closed my eyes and inhaled
deeply as I wondered what the fuck was going on between me and Sam Uley.

"Any time."

When I opened my eyes and looked at him, he was smiling slightly.

"I don't get you," I said, finally.

"Me! ?" he cried. "What about you! ? You're the one who… who…"

"I know," I interrupted. "I don't get me, either."

His shock dissipated, then, and his brow furrowed. He stared at me a long moment before he raised his hand
up to the top of the blanket, just behind my neck. He gently pushed it down, then, and I cringed as he leaned
back and peered at the marks on my back.

"I'm-"

"Don't!" I cried, cutting him off.

He froze.

"Don't what?"

"Don't fucking apologize!"

And even though I could feel his eyes on me, I couldn't look at him. I knew he would misinterpret anything he
saw on my face, so I continued staring at the ocean.

When I saw him move in the corner of my eye, I thought maybe I had finally chased him off.

But then I felt him around me.

He scooted behind me and, suddenly, I was sitting between his knees. I stilled, unsure of what he was about to
do. Every hair on my body stood on end, though, when he carefully swept my hair over my shoulder. I could
feel his breath on my neck, hot and unrelenting.

Then I felt him press his lips to my back.

When his breath drifted a few inches down and he gently kissed again, I realized he was kissing each of the
scars on my back.

I closed my eyes as he continued, letting his intensity and his reverence wash over me. It allowed me to
believe that maybe one of us knew what we were doing. And maybe he did.

Somehow, Sam Uley found the only way to quietly obliterate all of my protests.

As those lips moved slowly across my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, I realized that it wasn't the
style of the sex that had differentiated Sam from Yos.

It was something else.

After he had covered my entire back, he wrapped the blanket back around me and rested his wrists on his
knees and his chin on my shoulder. It was bizarre, really, because he acted as if we had been sleeping together
for years, and that such a wildly intimate moment was completely natural—like he hadn't just kissed the
wounds he had fucked into me the first and only time we had had sex. He was brazen; unapologetic in his
proximity to me.

I began to wonder what it would be like knowing Sam Uley.

After a long silence, he spoke quietly.

"It didn't work, did it?"

"What didn't work?" I asked.

"Sleeping with Yos."

I sucked in a breath involuntarily. I didn't know how he meant it, and I wasn't entirely sure I even knew what I
was trying to accomplish by sleeping with Yos. But it was pretty clear that whatever it was didn't work.

I never answered him, but he didn't press it.

I think we both knew he already knew the answer.

We were both silent, then, staring out at the ocean. I felt my body finally relax some, but my blood still ran hot,

with his body pressed to mine.

I don't know how long we sat like that.

A long time.

"If you were to kill yourself, how would you do it?" I asked, swiftly annihilating the perfect silence. It was only
after the words left my lips that I heard how crazy I sounded. I regretted asking it immediately, as I realized
he would likely recommend therapy or direct me to some hotline. But there was nothing for me to do then but
cringe as I waited for his reaction, grateful that I couldn't see his face.

I was astonished when it only took him a few seconds, and his voice didn't sound surprised.

"Here."

"Huh?"

"I'd come here and jump."

I wanted to turn and look at him, but I didn't. His chin was still on my shoulder, and I could feel his jaw moving
as he spoke. I was both confused and relieved by his answer—confused because I couldn't envision it and
relieved because he had answered, without hesitating.

Maybe we were both freaks.

"I don't understand. Jumping here wouldn't kill you. And I'm pretty sure killing yourself isn't something you
want to get halfway done."

"It'd get the job done if you did it right. Get good and drunk beforehand, impairing your ability to swim. Wait
for the right moment—a particularly fierce storm, when the waters are rough. That'd get you good and dead
pretty quick, I imagine."

Then I did turn to him, shifting around so that we were facing each other. He took out a cigarette and lit it,
hardly noticing the look on my face.

"How could you?"

He looked skyward, then, to exhale his smoke up at the stars instead of at me before meeting my gaze.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"How could you do that to this place! ? This isn't… It's too good for that here!"

"What are you talking about? It'd be… That's precisely why I'd do it here."

"But…it's like…sacred. I thought… No one would ever dive again!" I cried.

"Oh, I doubt that."

"I wouldn't."

"I bet you would. You love it too much."

"What do you know?" I shot back.

But he changed the subject.

"Then what about you?"

"Huh?"

"How would you do it?"

"Oh." I was still sitting between his knees, but I was cross legged, so my knees were tucked under where his
were propped up. I glanced down at my hands, which were in my lap. "I'd take a razor to my wrists."

I looked up at him, then, to gauge his reaction. He just exhaled another smooth stream of smoke up at the sky,
before looking down at my hands. Then, he did yet another thing I wasn't expecting—because he never did
what I expected: he placed his cigarette between my lips, just before taking my right wrist in both his hands
and lifting it to his mouth, proceeding to kiss it as gently as he had my back, down the veins that were filled
with the blood that burned through them with ever increasing intensity. He didn't look at me as he did it. He

was focused, as if my wrist held the secrets of the universe. And when he finished with my right wrist, he
repeated with my left.

Then, he released my arm and looked up at me casually and retrieved his cigarette. Again, it was as if what he
had just done had been the most natural thing in the world.

As if it wasn't ridiculously strange.

And ridiculously sexy.

As if my wrists weren't more on fire in that moment than they had ever been before.

When he took another draw of his cigarette, I wanted to kiss him. But his eyes weren't filled with the lust I had
seen that first night. They looked almost …bored.

"Why did you do that?" I asked.

It seemed I was determined to spoil the moment with words.

He exhaled over his shoulder again before answering.

"I don't know. I guess it seemed like the thing to do."

I searched his face, then, because it seemed Sam Uley's words offered little to my understanding of him. Or
maybe they offered just enough.

Then, I reached up and took the cigarette from between his lips. He didn't say anything. He only watched as I
reached over his leg and stubbed it out into the ground next to us. When I returned my eyes to his, he met my
gaze.

And my lips.

I felt the blanket again fall from my shoulders as I tilted up to my knees and pressed myself to him, pushing
my tongue into his mouth. His head tilted back to accommodate me, as I knelt over him.

When I felt his arms around my hips, it was all the encouragement I needed, because he held on tight, like
being attached to me was the most important thing in his world. So I moved my lips from his mouth to his
neck, hoping he would lean back and surrender to the ground.

The last thing I was expecting was for him to speak.

"Leah."

I ignored him, and kept working my way down his neck.

"Leah. Stop."

I froze then.

"What?" I asked, pulling away.

"I'm not gonna do this again."

"What? Why not?"

"Because that's exactly what you would say if I asked you why you slept with Yos."

"What?"

"I'm not here to help you self destruct, Leah. I'm here because I wanna be. Let me know when you wanna be
here, too."

"What?" I repeated. Because I didn't know what the fuck he meant. I just knew it sounded really
condescending.

But he was already untangling himself from me. He removed my arms from around his neck and scooted back
before standing up. Then, he held out his hand, to help me up.

I stood without taking it.

"Can I give you a ride home?" he asked.

"What?"

"Leah. Last time we had sex, you refused to talk to me. And I'm pretty sure Yos is gonna be in that boat, too,
now. So spare me the indignation. I'm just trying to keep myself relevant."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you. Now let me give you a ride home so that we can go to school tomorrow and maybe if I
approach you, you won't go running."

I felt ridiculous. I was standing in front of him in only my underwear, completely rejected. And on top of it, he
was talking to me like I was three. I turned and picked up the blanket, only to realize it was his. Which made

me feel more ridiculous. So instead of wrapping it around me, I thrust it at him. Then, I stalked toward where
the pile of my clothes lay and began getting dressed.

"Leah," he pleaded, following me.

I buttoned up my jeans, and was about to put on my t-shirt.

"I liked you better when you didn't talk."

He grabbed my wrist then, forcing me to look at him.

"Don't think for a second that just because I talk and have opinions and might be just a little less mysterious
to you that I can't still fuck you senseless," he sneered.

I glared at him, not so much because he was being a cocky son of a bitch as because he was just making me
want it more than I already did.

I snatched my wrist away and put on my shirt. Then, I picked up my shoes and my cigarettes and walked away.

...

When I got dressed for school the next morning, I dug into the bottom of my dresser. It took me a minute to
find what I was looking for, but there it was, buried at the bottom, tags still attached.

One time when Sasha and I had been shopping at Port Angeles, she had made me try on a denim miniskirt. I
resisted, because I never wore skirts. They made me uncomfortable. But Sasha told me it looked great on me,

and I knew she was right. It did look great. But it just wasn't…me. Being sexy wasn't exactly me. When I refused
to buy it, she bought it for me.

That morning, I cut off the tags.

Because I was going to make Sam Uley surrender.

I was going to make Sam Uley beg.

…

Sasha's jaw was unhinged when I got into her car.

"Leah! You're wearing that! ? Now?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"I've tried getting you to wear that every weekend since the weather warmed up! What is going on with you?"

"Nothing, Sasha," I said, buckling my seatbelt. When she didn't shift the car into drive, I looked at her.

"Do I need to be worried about you? Does this have to do with Yos?"

"No. This definitely doesn't have to do with Yos. And you definitely don't need to be worried about me."

…

At school, everyone stared. It was hard to tell how many of them were staring because of the miniskirt versus
how many were staring because it was Leah Clearwater in a miniskirt.

I didn't care.

Except when I passed Sam Uley in the hallway.

I saw his eyes rake over me.

And when they finally met mine, I smirked.

…

At lunch, when I walked to the end of the football field, Sam was practically on my heels. When I stopped at my
usual spot, he grabbed my wrist before I could even sit and kept walking. I smirked again as he took me past
the treeline, off school property.

When we were sufficiently hidden, he let go of my hand and faced me, so close our noses probably would have
been touching if not for the six or so inches he had on me.

"What are you doing, Leah?"

I raised my eyebrows and pursed my lips.

"I'm smoking a cigarette, Sam."

He narrowed his eyes at me, and I smiled. Then, he pulled out his cigarettes and lit one. For one brief moment,
I almost lost my nerve, because I thought maybe we really had come out to the woods to do nothing but

smoke. But then he grabbed my shoulders and turned me around, so that my back was to him. He breathed a
cloud of smoke over my shoulder, just before dropping to his knees.

When I felt his hand reach up my skirt, though, it wasn't about triumph anymore. I couldn't concentrate on
anything other than the fact that Sam Uley was finally touching me again.

He pulled my panties down, just before grabbing my waist and pulling me down into his lap, my back to his

chest, much like it had been the night before.

Not knowing what he was going to do next made every touch like an electric shock. He scooted us both back so
that he was leaning against the trunk of a tree, just before grabbing my breast with his left hand. Then, his
other hand swept up my thigh, back up my skirt.

His cheek was pressed to mine, and I could still see the cigarette that hung lazily from his lips as he rubbed
circles into my clit with his thumb and thrust his fingers inside me.

It was almost cruel, how methodical he was about it. He knew exactly what he was doing, as I squirmed and
moaned and grabbed his knees to brace myself for the release that I had only ever experienced by myself,
before.

It was exponentially better when Sam Uley did it.

One more reason to hate him.

All the while, he smoked that cigarette.

After my entire body tensed and my toes curled and the fire left my veins, I fell back into his chest.

Only then did he remove that cigarette from his lips. Just long enough to kiss my neck before standing up.

I wasn't sure which of us had been defeated that day.

Maybe we both had.

I pulled up my panties and tried to regain some semblance of dignity as he reached out his hand. Again, he
acted as if what had just happened had been the most natural thing in the world, glancing back toward the
football field casually and exhaling smoke.

That time, I took his hand, and he pulled me to my feet. Then, he took the cigarette from his lips and placed it

between mine, just before arching one eyebrow at me, turning and walking away.

…

When I went to the parking lot to meet Sasha after school that day, Yos was leaning against her car, waiting for
me.

"Hey, Leah. What's up?"

I tried to remain casual.

"Hey, Yos. Not much. What's going on?" I asked, stopping next to him.

"You're a popular girl, you know that?"

"Um. If you say so."

"I've been trying to talk to you for two days now and other people keep beating me to it. Are you blowing me
off or something?"

"What do you mean?"

He leaned toward me then and lowered his voice.

"We had sex, Leah."

"Uh. Yeah. I am…aware of that fact."

He looked surprised by my answer.

"Oh. So… that's it, then?" he asked, confused.

"Um. I… Was it supposed to be more?" I stammered.

"Damn, girl. You know how to wound a guy," he said, clutching his chest dramatically.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

"Nah, it's cool. No worries. I think I see what's going on, here," he said, nodding at something over my
shoulder. I turned and saw Sam standing across the lot, smoking a cigarette and glancing at the two of us.

"Oh. Listen, Yos… I don't know what's going on there. I didn't mean to-"

"Nah," he interrupted me. "Don't worry about it. It's cool. I had fun. I was hoping maybe we could do it again,
see where things could go. But I won't cry myself to sleep over it or anything. Don't feel bad."

"Oh," I said dumbly. Because I didn't know what to say. I hadn't really been expecting him to cry himself to
sleep over it. But I hadn't really been expecting him to want more, either.

"I'll see you around, Leah."

"Yeah, man. I still wanna hang out, you know?" And I meant it. I liked Yos.

"Yeah, sure," he said, pushing himself off the car and smiling.

When he was gone, I looked up to where Sam had been, but he had vanished…having been replaced by Sasha,
who was headed straight toward me.

"That's it," she said, as we both got into the car. "I'm kidnapping you."

"Huh?"

"We're going to my house. And you're not leaving until you tell me everything."

I groaned, but I knew it was pointless trying to evade her.

…

Sasha had seen Sam Uley follow me out past the football field that day. She had also seen Yos talking to me at
her car and Sam watching. So I had a lot of blanks to fill in. Which I did, to an extent. I just didn't fill in all of
them.

I told her that sex with Yos had been a mistake, because I wasn't interested in dating him. That it had just sort
of happened.

"But you're interested in dating Sam Uley?" she asked. We were sitting cross legged on her bed, facing one
another. I really needed a cigarette.

"I… I don't know."

"What happened at lunch today? Why did he follow you out there?"

"I told you already. We smoke together."

I didn't want to tell her about any of it. Not because I was ashamed, but because it was too precious—like if I
said the words out loud, the things that Sam Uley and I had done to one another would cease to exist. I didn't
even like thinking about telling her. The sentences that formed in my mind sounded ludicrous.

But it wasn't ludicrous.

"What do you talk about?" she asked.

"Not a whole lot. He doesn't… He's quiet."

I think she literally swooned then, because her eyes glazed over and she sighed, pressing one hand to her
chest.

"That is so…hot," she breathed. I thought I had lost her for a second, but then she refocused her attention on
me. "You have got to be more forthcoming, Leah. What are the few words he says? What is his body language?
What do you think his intentions are?"

I sighed.

"I think he wants to have sex with me. It's probably because of Yos. I'm sure all the guys think I'm easy now."

"Don't say that! That's awful! Besides, he was looking at you longingly before Yos! You two were exchanging
long suffering stares at the bonfire!"

"Yeah, OK. Maybe it's not because of Yos. Whatever."

"So, has he made a move?"

"No," I lied.

"Have you?"

"No."

"Are you going to? I mean… What do you want to happen?" she pressed.

"I don't know, Sasha," I said, sighing again. "He's not really dating material, is he?"

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because he's Sam Uley!"

"What does that mean?"

"It means he's quiet and broody and perfect and probably doesn't date anyone. I'm not sure I'd want him to
date anyone. That would kind of ruin it, wouldn't it?"

"Are you kidding?" she asked. It felt like the twelfth time she had asked me that question that day. "What if he
was dating you?"

"And what? Are we supposed to go to prom together? Can you imagine Sam Uley buying me a corsage and me
in a dress? It's… It's not…"

"It's not what, Leah?"

"It's not us."

"Exactly."

"Huh?"

"I think maybe you're the only girl who could tame Sam Uley. And maybe Sam Uley's the only guy who could
tame you."

"Tame? What are you talking about, Sasha? You sound ridiculous."

"Whatever. I saw the way he was looking at you and Yos after school today. Just tell me when to pick out my
bridesmaid dress."

"Oh my god, Sasha. Take me home, now. My mom will have a fit if I'm not there when she gets home from
work."

….

When I went to the cliffs that night, he was already there, sitting where he had the night before, staring at the
ocean. He glanced up at my approach and scooted over some, making room. But he didn't look surprised.

He never really looked surprised.

Well, other than when he saw the miniskirt that morning.

I had changed into jeans that night, before I got questions from my parents. I'm pretty sure he noticed,
because I saw his eyes scan my body just before I sat down. But he didn't say anything. He just offered me a
cigarette.

"I've got one. Thanks," I said, pulling out one of mine. I let him light it, though. He had already fingerbanged
me that day. Letting him light my cigarette didn't seem like a big deal.

"Wasn't sure you'd come," he mused.

"Really? You seemed pretty sure this afternoon."

His head snapped toward me, then, and I found I had succeeded in surprising Sam Uley twice that day. I tried
to suppress a smile, and then I saw one corner of his mouth curl up, and one of his perfect dimples appeared
on the side that wasn't holding his cigarette.

Sam Uley rarely held cigarettes in his hands.

"I liked that skirt," he mumbled, eyes smiling.

"Really?" I asked with mock surprise.

He laughed then, and it was…different. Laughing wasn't something we did a whole lot of. It was like a rare,
exotic bird that might fly away if we were too loud.

For the first time, I felt at ease with Sam Uley.

"So?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and making a move to get up.

I was confused.

"What?" I asked.

He was standing over me, then, holding his hand out.

"We gonna dive or what?"
…



Chapter Eight
…

We spent the rest of the night diving. First he would go, and I would watch. Then, he would watch me from the
water. Then, we would trek back up the side of the cliff and repeat it. Each time, Sam did something different.
Eventually, he talked me into trying a flip. I didn't land it perfectly, but I managed a full rotation.

It was amazing.

We must have each gone a dozen times or more, before we finally crawled back up to the cliff and collapsed in
exhaustion. We were both on our backs, but he reached across me for his cigarettes and his lighter, which lay
on the ground where we had abandoned everything before diving. After lighting one, he handed it to me and
then lit one for himself.

"Where's your truck?" I asked.

"Oh, it's around the bend. I prefer an unobstructed view. Why?" he asked, squinting at me and plucking some
stray tobacco from his lips.

"Any chance you brought that blanket?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, jumping up. "I'll be right back."

I watched his near naked body disappear around the trees and wondered why that night felt so different—
why the laughter was easy and the tension gone. I wondered if it was good or bad. Or both.

When he reappeared, he already had one blanket draped over his shoulders and another in his right hand,
which he tossed to me. The cigarette, as always, dangled loosely from his lips.

"Thanks," I said, sitting up and wrapping it around me

"Sure thing. Gets a little chilly without a fire," he said, sitting across from me.

"Yeah."

"Speaking of which—when are you gonna make your debut?"

"Huh?"

"When are you gonna dive in front of someone other than me?"

"Oh. I guess I hadn't thought about it. I guess… I don't know. I kind of like having it to myself."

"Really? You're the one that bitches about the fact that the guys monopolize the field. Just think about the way
their mouths would hang if you did it one day."

"Yeah. That's…true. I just… It's kind of…"

"You like keeping shit to yourself, don't you?" he interrupted.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, flicking some ashes from my cigarette.

"You didn't tell anyone about us. And from what I gather, you weren't the one telling people about what
happened with Yos, either."

"Why would I want to advertise that shit? I'm sure I'm already the rez whore."

"Nah. As far as this town's concerned, you just lost it to Yos."

"What? Why do… Jesus Christ! Why are people so nosy! ?" I knew everyone knew I had slept with Yos. I didn't
know they all knew the status of my virginity.

"Does it bother you?"

"That people know all about my sex life! ? I…" And then I thought about it for a second and shrugged. "No. I
guess not. I guess it doesn't matter." I was staring at my cigarette, but I looked up at him, then. That's when I
realized that that wasn't exactly what he had meant. "Oh. You meant… Oh! I get it! It bugs you that people
think I lost it to Yos, doesn't it?"

He bit his lip, because he knew he was busted.

I threw back my head and laughed. He had to wait for the cackling to subside before he could respond.

"You know. I think maybe you shouldn't dive in front of anybody else," he said, finally.

"Why's that?"

"I think that might bug me more than your sleeping with Yos did."

…

Sam offered to give me a ride home that night. When I told him I preferred walking, he asked if he could walk
me. When I told him 'sure,' I think I surprised us both.

It seemed I was done running from Sam Uley.

We were quiet for most of the walk. In fact, I don't think we uttered a single word. He just strode along next to

me like it was something he did every night.

I stopped when we were about fifty yards from my house.

"You should probably go from here. I haven't exactly been using the front door lately."

"Oh yeah? Which window is yours? I need to know which one to peek in."

"Was that a joke?"

"Kind of. But only because I'm thinking about peeking in it less than I'm planning on crawling through it," he
said, flicking some ashes to the ground as I tried not to give him the reaction I'm sure he was hoping for. When
he looked back up at me, he smiled.

I grabbed his hand. When he realized what I was doing, his smile broadened into a grin.

I took him with me around the back of the house. When we got to my bedroom window, I turned toward him
and raised my eyebrows. He nodded, still grinning. Then, just as I turned to actually climb through it, he
grabbed my wrist. As soon as I turned back around to look at him, his mouth was on mine, and it only took
that millisecond for him to rekindle every flame of desire I had felt for him through the course of that night.
And not once that night had he given any indication that he had any intention of putting out that fire.

Even as he kissed me, his hands didn't wander, as they had other times. He merely held my wrist with one and
his cigarette in the other. And when his lips left mine, they moved to my forehead, which he kissed quickly
before smiling, turning, and walking away.

…

At school the next day, all the teachers started talking about exams. Apparently, we were approaching the end

of the school year a little faster than I realized.

I'd like to say that I cared.

The truth is, it was harder than ever to care about school.

By the time lunch rolled around, it was raining again. I stood at the cafeteria door, debating about whether to
brave it for a smoke or not, when Sasha walked up to me.

"Whatever happened to my umbrella?" she asked.

"Oh. Uh… I'm sorry. I forgot to give it back. I think it's at home."

"Well, I guess that means you're stuck with me for lunch today, huh?" she asked, smiling. I rolled my eyes. But
before I could respond, Sam appeared next to Sasha.

And he was holding her umbrella.

"Thought you might need this," he said, handing it to me.

Sasha didn't say anything. She didn't have to—her eyes said it all.

"Oh. Uh, thanks," I stammered.

"But I'm about to go to my truck for a smoke, if you wanna come."

"Oh. Uh. I… I think… I'll… No thanks."

He shrugged, but his right dimple betrayed the fact that he wanted to smile.

"Suit yourself."

Then, he turned and pushed the door open. Sasha and I watched as he jogged through the rain to the parking

lot.

For once, Sasha didn't make a huge scene. Thank god. She just gave me a look-probably because there were a
ton of people around.

"I'm gonna step outside for a smoke," I said.

"I'm coming with you."

She looped her arm through mine, then, and we both walked to the end of the football field, sharing the
umbrella. The fact that Sasha was willing to stay in such close proximity to me as I smoked spoke to how
desperate she was to find out why Sam Uley had had her umbrella.

"Spill it," she said, before we had even reached the beginning of the football field.

"I forgot. He and I shared your umbrella that day. I finished my cigarette before he finished his. I guess he was
the one holding it and I forgot it was yours, since I don't usually carry one. At least he returned it, right?" I
asked, smiling sheepishly.

"Why didn't you go to his truck with him?"

"I don't know. That just feels really conspicuous, I guess."

"Since when are you afraid of detentions?"

"That's not what I meant."

"You mean you don't want everyone to see you and Sam Uley together?"

"I guess," I said, shrugging.

"Why?"

"I don't want people to get the wrong idea."

"What's the wrong idea?"

"I don't know!"

I was growing increasingly frustrated, because it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep things from
Sasha and everyone else. But I also didn't know why it was so important to me to keep those things quiet. Yet
it was the only thing that seemed important to me.

"Leah, why are you defensive about this?" Sasha asked. I could tell from her face that I was beginning to hurt
her feelings. She told me everything, after all. It seemed wrong that I kept things from her.

I sighed.

"I don't really know, Sasha," I said, handing her the handle of the umbrella so that I could light a cigarette.

"Did you sleep with him?"

"No."

The lie left my lips before I even thought about it, or realized it was a lie.

"Are you thinking about sleeping with him?"

"Yeah."

"How well do you know him?" she asked, her voice suddenly quieter. And that's when I knew she had gone to
her plane of existence, where it was really, really important to know a guy before sleeping with him. It was a
place that Sasha hadn't yet realized I didn't live in.

"Better than I knew Yos," I snapped.

"Oh, Leah. But you regret that, don't you?"

"No, Sasha! I don't! Why? Should I?"

"I… I'm sorry! I just thought…"

"What? That I'm like you? I'm not, Sasha! I don't have a bunch of puritanical hang ups about sex! It's just sex! I
don't know why you're making that into such a big deal! I'm not gonna let you make me feel ashamed about

it!"

She looked at me, then, like I had just killed her puppy, and I realized I had perhaps been a little over the top.

Even if I had meant it.

It was always easy to read Sasha. So I saw that moment when the hurt she was feeling from my words turned
to anger. I could see it on her face as easily as I could see the color of her eyes.

Really, it was kind of a relief when she got angry.

Without another word, she turned and walked back to school, leaving me to get drenched by the rain.

…

After class that day, I stood just outside the school, under some cover, and stared at the parking lot. I was
pretty sure Sasha was still pissed, but I didn't know if she was so pissed that she'd make me walk home in the
rain.

For my part, I wasn't going to beg her for a ride.

So I waited.

She finally appeared, at the edge of the parking lot, with her umbrella. She didn't walk to her car, though. She
was searching the parking lot.

When her eyes finally landed on me, we stared at one another for a moment.

"Hey."

I whirled around. Sam had a knack for sneaking up on me.

"Hey," I said, looking up at him.

"Need a ride?"

I don't know how he knew. I don't know if he picked up on it just from the way she and I were looking at each

other across that parking lot or if he had seen her storm off from the football field without me that day at
lunch. All I knew was that I felt a mixture of relief and embarrassment.

"Yeah."

I didn't even think to look at Sasha as we jogged through the rain to his truck.

…

We drove in silence.

I stared out my window at the pouring rain and thought about everything that had happened between me and
Sasha. I wondered if I was completely to blame, or if what was happening to us was inevitable. Maybe we were
too different to be friends, in the end.

I didn't even want to think about guys coming between us. That just seemed too cliché and stupid. I told
myself it was a coincidence that the rift had formed at the same time that she had started seeing Danny and I
had started…whatever-the-fuck I had started with Sam.

I completely forgot where I was until we neared my house.

"Oh! You can stop here. This is fine," I said.

"Huh? Your house is still a block away. It's pouring out there."

"I know. I'll be fine. It's better this way. Trust me."

He raised his eyebrows at me skeptically, but slowed the car and put it in park.

Sometimes it was really nice that Sam spoke so little.

"Thanks for the ride," I said, picking up my backpack.

"Any time."

I hopped out then and ran the rest of the way home.

…

That night, I didn't go to the cliffs. It was still raining.

…

Thursday morning, I had no idea whether Sasha was going to pick me up or not.

One thing we did have in common was that we were both stubborn.

Once I got my books together, I didn't wait around to see. I just started walking.

…

At lunch that day, the rain let up just long enough for me to smoke a cigarette behind the gym.

Thank god.

…

After school, I found myself standing in the same spot I had the afternoon before, watching the rain and the
parking lot. Sasha and I hadn't even made eye contact the entire day.

Sam didn't offer me a ride that day.

Instead, he just caught my hand in his as he came out of the school and kept walking, with me in tow.

Everyone stared.

Including Sasha.

…

I forgot where I was again until Sam put the car in park, a block away from my house, just as the day before.
Then, he turned and looked at me. We had yet to speak a single word to each other that day.

"Thanks," I said. "Hopefully I'll stop getting the cold shoulder soon."

"I don't mind giving you a ride, Leah."

"Well. Thanks all the same."

"You need a ride in the morning, too?"

"Um. I walked today. It wasn't a big deal."

He raised an eyebrow at me.

"I'll see you in the morning, then," he said. He fell silent a moment and I was just about to get out of the truck
when he added, "If not sooner."

Then, we both grinned.

…

But it was raining that night.

I thought about going to the cliffs despite the rain, but I knew it was stupid. He wouldn't be there. And I wasn't
going to dive in the middle of a storm. I tried to convince myself that the disappointment had more to do with
the diving than with him.

I lay on my back in my bed, as it had healed up for the most part, and stared at the ceiling, longing for a
cigarette.

I thought about what it had meant that Sam seemed to announce to everyone that we were a couple that day. I
wondered if I should have been pissed at him for doing it, without really talking to me first.

Was it really so different than when Yos threw his arm over my shoulder in the car that day after camping?

Why were they both so eager to mark their territory?

Was it just about marking his territory?

Then, I realized it was different than when Yos had done it.

And it was as I pondered what made it different that my thoughts were suddenly interrupted when I heard my
window screech open. I shot out of bed, terrified.

I stood, catching my breath and willing my heartbeat to slow when I realized what it was.

Who it was.

His sopping t-shirt clung to him as he climbed through that window, and the sight of his arms flexing like that
instantly replaced the initial fear with hopeless desire.

I wondered if Sam Uley would ever stop having that effect on me, as my heart resumed thumping so loud I was
sure he could hear it.

After righting himself, he looked at me and grinned, dripping all over my floor. He seemed huge in the tiny
space, dwarfing me and all of the insignificant things in my room.

I held a finger to my lips, indicating that he needed to be quiet. Only then did I realize I was standing in only

my underwear and an old, worn t-shirt.

I completely forgot to be self conscious, though, when he pulled me to him roughly and began kissing me.

It was like that first night. It was what I had been dying for. I'm not sure a kiss could have been more
determined, as his tongue worked it's way around my mouth and he pressed me against his chest. I could feel
the rain quickly soak through my own t-shirt and his free hand glide down my side and settle on my ass. I
wanted to moan, as he dug his fingers into me, but I settled for wrapping my arms tightly around his neck.

Sam Uley was the best thing to ever enter my bedroom.

His hand suddenly released my ass and worked its way up my shirt. He grabbed my breast and I realized that
it was the first time he had had unimpeded access to my nipples as he began rubbing one with his thumb. The

reactions my body had to his touch were overwhelming.

I felt like I was about to lose it… yet Sam was only getting started.

I grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and started jerking it up over his body. He let go of me only long enough to
help me dispose of the wet shirt and pull mine off of me, as well.

Then, he pressed me back to his chest with a whole new level of determination, as his unyielding body pushed
against my breasts.

It was hard to breathe.

It was hard to think.

It was hard to do anything but not scream from the fire that felt like it was burning me alive.

His hands wound their way down to my thighs and suddenly, he was picking me up. I wrapped my legs around
his waist as he walked to the bed, just before he lowered me onto it.

I reluctantly loosened my legs from around him when he stood. Then, I saw him pull something out of his
pocket. When he held it between his teeth before unbuttoning his jeans and dropping them to the floor, I
realized it was a condom.

I wondered what the hell the point of a condom was, considering we had already fucked without one.

Then I remembered that I had had sex with Yos since I last had sex with Sam.

And he still had no idea that I was on birth control.

When he lowered himself back onto me, he did it slowly; quietly. But the weight of him on me alone was
enough for me to again burst into flames, hotter than before. He didn't suspend himself above me. He crushed
me, unapologetically. I clung to him, and he rolled us to our sides.

My bed creaked from the weight, but he moved slowly. We were both silent, breathing fast and heavy into
each other's ears as he finally pushed himself into me.

He never let go of me, as he continued pushing into me, slowly; quietly. It was like being wrapped up in that
sleeping bag with Yos, yet so much more intimate. Maybe because I was wrapped up in him. He sucked on my
neck and I rested my chin on his shoulder as he rocked us slowly. We clung to each other like it was the end of
the world—like if we didn't hold on tight, we'd fly away into nothing.

Maybe we would.

He was so slow and so careful that the only sound was our breathing. It was so different than the first time,
but still so right. I wanted it to last forever.

It was when I sank my teeth into his shoulder, biting back a moan, that he came. I knew from the way his body
tensed around me, squeezing me impossibly closer to him.

Thank god he didn't let go immediately, because I felt I really would fly away if he had. He stayed pressed
against me and I felt one hand slide from my back down to my waist. Then, it crept between our stomachs, and
I realized Sam wasn't going to be the only one to come that night.

….

He did eventually let go of me, but only to cover my mouth with his other hand as I climaxed.

Thank god he did.

Then, he grinned like the cat that swallowed the canary. As soon as I came down from it enough to realize how
smug he was, I pinched him in the waist. His entire body jumped just a little, and I realized I had found a
weakness. Then, he threw his head back against the pillow and laughed silently. Never had I seen his face so
filled with mirth. It was almost like he loved that I had found his weakness.

I rolled over and looked at the clock on my nightstand, to find that it was almost three in the morning. When I
turned back to him, he caught my face in his hands and began kissing me again.

Part of me was scared that we were going to fall asleep, and my parents would find him in the morning.

A bigger part of me didn't care, as his arm wove around me again and my cheek found his chest. I lay there, my
head on his chest, for what seemed like forever.

I did fall asleep.

I didn't wake up until he got up to put his clothes on. I don't know how he managed to stay awake because,
when I looked at my clock again, it was almost four. We had been lying there for almost an hour. Maybe he
drifted off and woke up again. I don't know.

I pulled the sheet around me and watched as he put on his clothes. In what little light there was, I could still
watch the way his body moved fluidly. It was really a majestic thing to watch, even in a cramped little room at
four in the morning.

It was still raining.

It probably didn't matter, considering his clothes were still soaked.

His hair had mostly dried by then, though, and it brushed my face as he leaned over and kissed me one last
time before leaping out the window, back into the rain.

…

When I left my house Friday morning, I could see his truck parked down the street, where he dropped me off. I
felt a little ridiculous that I had made him do it. I realized I needed to talk to my parents.

When I got into the truck, he didn't say anything. He just offered me a draw of his cigarette.

I took it from his fingertips and inhaled from it deeply before handing it back.

"You can have it. I've got more," he said.

"So do I."

But I didn't get one out.

And when he noticed, he passed his back to me.

And we shared that cigarette all the way to school.

…

Something changed that day. It wasn't in the way we acted around other people, though. Sam never made a
move to hold my hand again, or throw his arm over my shoulder. Sure, we arrived at school together, and
people noticed. But we didn't make out in the school parking lot or slip our hands into each other's pockets or
anything. We just went about our business like any other day.

What changed was how we acted around each other—when no one else was looking.

When I was walking to the end of the football field, he jogged to catch up with me and then slung his arm
around my waist. He already had a cigarette hanging from his lips, and I smirked.

"What?" he mumbled around it, one perfect dimple showing as he smiled crookedly.

"Nothing."

"You know there's another bonfire tomorrow?" he asked, as we neared our usual spot.

I don't know when it became 'our' spot instead of 'my' spot.

"No, I didn't. I guess I don't really have my finger on the pulse anymore. Sasha's always been my source of
information for stuff like that," I said, wrinkling my nose as I realized the fight was dragging on a bit long.

His hand moved from my waist to my hand as he sat down, and he pulled me into his lap.

"That sucks," he mumbled around the cigarette, just before finally pulling it from his mouth and exhaling
smoothly. "What happened there, anyway?"

He had me situated so that I was sideways on his lap, and we could look at one another. So I'm pretty sure he
saw the surprise on my face when he asked me about Sasha.

Sam and I never talked about shit like that.

It was weird.

"Um. I don't know, really. I think… We're just really different and we fight over stupid stuff sometimes. I think
she thinks I'm… I don't know. I don't think she approves of all of my life choices, lately."

He raised his eyebrows then as he took another drag of his cigarette before handing it to me. Only then did I
even notice that I had yet to light one of my own.

"Life choices?"

I bit my lip.

"Yeah. I… I don't think she's a big fan of the casual sex, in particular."

He raised his eyebrows even higher, then.

"Are we talking about me or Yos, here?"

"Yos, mostly. She doesn't really know about you."

"Does that render me even more irrelevant than Yos? You didn't even tell your best friend?" he asked.

"You're very concerned about your relevance, aren't you?"

I was teasing. But he didn't laugh.

"Yeah. I am."

I opened my mouth to answer, but it took me a second to figure out what to say.

"I… You're more relevant than Yos, OK?"

"But I still fall into the casual sex category?" he asked

"I…" But I didn't know how to finish the sentence. Worse, he didn't let me off the hook. He only stared, eyes
boring into me. "I don't know," I said.

Because I didn't.

He raised an eyebrow, before taking another draw of his cigarette and glancing over toward the school. I

worried for a second that I had actually hurt his feelings, until he spoke.

"I know what your hang up is."

"Really?" I was actually hopeful that he could explain it to me, because maybe it would help me figure out
what the hell I was doing.

"Yeah. You've got me pigeonholed. Like everybody else. Sam Uley's the kid from the wrong side of the tracks.
Womanizer. Damaged. All that shit. You don't think I rise to the level of relationship material."

I could tell that he was trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he said it.

"That's… That's not it!" I cried, even though I wasn't sure if that wasn't a part of it.

"Oh yeah? Then what is it?"

"I think maybe… Maybe it's that I'm not relationship material! I don't know how it works! All the couples I see
around me… It all seems so trite! I can't imagine you… I can't imagine us…." I couldn't finish a sentence. I felt
ridiculous even trying.

Suddenly, his brow smoothed out and the darkness in his eyes receded. I even saw the hint of a dimple, before
he again turned serious.

"But you still think I'm gonna hurt you, don't you?" he asked.

And that was the moment I had a revelation.

"Sam… That's the thing," I whispered. "I'm not sure you could hurt me. I'm not sure anyone could."

I didn't tell him that I was more terrified of that than anything.

His brow knit together again and, as he looked at me, I thought his eyes were going to penetrate my very
existence.

Then, he took the cigarette from my fingers and chucked it toward the field, just before cupping my face in his
hands and kissing me.

But, for once, his lips didn't set me on fire.

It was like his lips were trying to piece me back together.

When he stopped, he leaned his forehead against mine and looked at me.

"Maybe that's what we do then," he whispered. "Maybe we're supposed to hurt the shit out of each other."

With that one small promise, I suddenly knew that Sam Uley was the only one with even the prayer of a
chance of hurting me.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt hope.

…



Chapter Nine

…

When he dropped me off that day, I told him he could drop me at my actual house.

He raised his eyebrows, but he didn't say anything. He just pulled down the street and parked outside it.

I was probably just being paranoid, anyway. Seth would be the only one home.

"Thanks," I mumbled, handing him the cigarette we had been sharing.

Just as I hopped out and was about to close the door, he spoke.

"Need a ride to the bonfire?"

I stopped, realizing I hadn't given much thought to what it would be like going to a bonfire without Sasha at
my side.

I wondered if she was going.

I wondered how uncomfortable it would be to walk there and arrive by myself.

I wondered if arriving with Sam would be more uncomfortable.

"Uh… I hadn't…thought about it. But…um… I can walk it."

"You sure?"

The more I thought about it, the more determined I became to go alone. I didn't want Sam to become my social
crutch.

"Yeah. But I might see you there."

"OK."

I slammed the door shut then before turning and walking into the house.

And thanked god the face in the window that day wasn't my mother's.

It was Seth's.

…

"Was that Sam Uley?" Seth asked, the second I walked in the door.

"Yeah."

"Why is he giving you a ride home?" he pressed, following me into the kitchen, where I grabbed an apple.

"Sasha couldn't today."

"Why not?"

It was like he was a damn dog, nipping at my heels.

"Butt out, Seth!" I cried, just before disappearing into my room and slamming the door.

…

I returned to the cliffs that night.

Sam wasn't there, but it was just as well.

I went that night to dive.

…

Saturday, it was sunny and warm, so I went to the beach with a book and my cigarettes. It worked out, because
I was still lounging and reading when people started arriving for the bonfire.

Unfortunately, I didn't realize how much attention my bikini was going to garner until Cal and Zed paid a visit
to my little stretch of sand, on the heels of a visit from Yos and Isaiah.

That was when I put my clothes back on.

I tried to continue reading despite the dwindling light. I was still, for all intents and purposes, alone.

When it got too dark to even pretend to read, I scanned the crowd. I realized I could probably join Yos and the
others, but they weren't who I was looking for. I saw Sam. He was talking to Danny, of all people. But they
weren't who I was looking for, either.

I finally spotted her, not far from Danny and Sam, talking to Jacob and his friends. Maybe she had given them a

ride again.

Only then did my eyes snap back to Danny and Sam, as I felt suddenly paranoid about what they could be

discussing. Surely, Sam and I hadn't reached a stage in our relationship that people were treating him like my
ambassador. The thought mortified me. Just as I stood and shook out my towel, determined to make sure that
wasn't the case, Sam's eyes met mine and he smiled, nodding in acknowledgment. Danny turned then to see
what Sam was looking at, and he waved at me awkwardly. I tried to smile, probably unconvincingly.

Then, I rolled up my towel before tucking it under my arm and walking toward them.

They both saw me coming, and Danny stepped aside a little to allow me into their conversation. But they both
fell silent as I approached.

"Hey, Leah. What's up?" he asked.

"Not much. Too dark to read, anymore. How are you?"

"Pretty good. Just trying to get through exams and all that, you know?"

"Yeah, sure."

He was looking at his shoes, then, and no one spoke. It was awkward.

"Uh. I think I'm gonna see if Isaiah got a hold of those fireworks," Danny finally said. "I'll see you two around."

"Yeah. Later, Danny," I said, as he slinked away.

When I turned to Sam, he was smoking his cigarette, casual as ever.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Nothing. I just…"

The truth was, I suddenly felt like an idiot. They were probably just talking about fireworks.

"I hear I missed your bikini," he said, grinning.

"Oh god."

"I was kinda hoping it would make a reappearance later tonight."

I glanced over at Jacob and Sasha involuntarily, then. And Sasha was looking back. I wasn't really paying
attention to Sam.

"Uh. Unlikely," I mumbled.

"Really? You're not gonna dive?" he asked, lowering his voice.

That was when I returned my attention to him.

"Oh. I hadn't really thought about it."

He flicked his cigarette butt into the bonfire then.

"You OK?"

"Yeah. It's just… This is stupid, right? I should go talk to her, right?"

"Whatever you want, Babe."

"OK. I'm gonna go talk to her."

I dropped my towel and my book in the sand, then, and walked over to Sasha. I would have felt bad about
forcing Jacob out of the conversation if… Well, if he weren't such a daily annoyance, anyway.

"Beat it, Jacob. Take your goonies with you."

He made a face at me, but didn't protest, and the three of them loped off. Sasha turned to me, all summer

pastels and flip flops and sunshine. Her demeanor, however, provided a dark juxtaposition to her appearance.

"Sasha. What's going on with us?" I asked. I figured direct was the best approach.

"Us? Leah, what's going on with you?"

"Why does it just have to be about me?" I asked, a little indignant.

"You're the one sneaking around with Sam Uley and having sex and doing drugs and not telling me anything!"

"Sasha, you can't take any of that personally. And I thought you wanted me to get together with Sam."

"Not like this. I… I think you were right about him. I think he's a bad influence on you."

"Sasha! You sound like my mother!"

"Well, someone has to say it, Leah! We both know your parents don't know what's going on if I don't!"

"You don't know anything about Sam."

"And you do? Just like you knew all about Yos before you slept with him?"

"Sasha! You have to stop! I don't need another mother! I need a friend! I need you to stop judging me!"

"No, I think you need a ride to school."

I closed my eyes then, and tried not to get angry. It was a stupid thing to get angry over. She wasn't listening to
me. I was wasting my time. It wasn't worth getting upset.

"Sasha, I need you to listen to me. This thing with Sam might be poorly timed. I realize what it must look like
to you. But… If I'm having any issues, it has nothing to do with him. And if you and I are having issues, it has
nothing to do with him. I'm not… Do you really think I'm so impressionable that I'm gonna let some guy affect
my friendship with you?"

"Have you told your parents?"

"Told them what?"

"About Sam."

"Huh? What would I tell them?"

"That you're dating him."

"Um. I think it's a little premature for that," I said.

"But not too early to sleep with him?"

"Christ, Sasha! When are you gonna ease up with that shit! ?"

"My puritanical hang ups, you mean?" she shot back.

"Yes! Fuck!"

As soon as I said it, I realized a lot of people were staring at us. It was probably only my last outburst they

heard, but it was still really uncomfortable. And I knew it was much worse for Sasha than for me. It was the
type of thing that really embarrassed her.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. But she was looking at her feet. She didn't answer. And mere seconds later, Danny
appeared at her elbow, signaling it was time for me to leave.

I wanted to punch Danny in the face. He acted as if he knew my best friend better than me—as if he needed to
protect her from me.

It made me sick.

But it was just one more example of how Sasha and I were different. Because the last thing I wanted was to be
seen seeking comfort from Sam.

I retreated, joining Yos and the others under the cliffs.

…

Getting high helped some.

But the voice in the back of my head told me that I was doing exactly what Sasha expected, and that she was
surely judging me from across the beach.

I tried to care.

When people started diving, I felt a rush of adrenaline just considering joining.

Which is when I knew I had to.

Yos and I walked up the cliff together.

I was surprised when we got to the top and Sam was still fully clothed. Yos abandoned me to go get in line with
the other divers, so I strode over to Sam.

"Aren't you diving?" I asked.

He glanced down at me and grinned.

"And miss yours? No way."

"You seem awfully confident that I'm going to."

"Aren't you?" he asked.

When I narrowed my eyes at him instead of answering, he laughed.

We both knew I wouldn't be able to just stand by and watch the others.

We cheered with the rest of the crowd as Isaiah dove, followed by Cal. Each guy tried to one up the one before.
Each dive got more elaborate…though they weren't all pulled off flawlessly. Yos followed Cal, and as soon as
he surfaced below the cliff, the cheering died down, as he had been the last in line. The others were still
trudging up the side of the hill or drinking beer.

"Sam!" someone called. It got the attention of others, who all started cheering for Sam to dive, surprised that
he hadn't already. He only shook his head and looked down at me. I glared at him, but he nudged me forward

with his elbow.

And I knew it was time.

As I walked toward the pile of clothes the others had left behind, my eyes briefly met Sasha's. I saw the exact
moment that she realized what I was doing, because that's when her eyes widened.

It was also the exact moment others realized what I was doing, because the cheering suddenly swelled to a
deafening level. Only, as I peeled off my tank top, it was also accompanied by catcalls.

I was probably most self conscious as I shimmied out of my shorts. But after dropping them on the ground, I
turned and faced the path to the end of the cliff. And then, even though it had transformed from the silent,
empty rock surface to which I was accustomed into a loud tunnel of onlookers, it was like nothing existed in
that moment but me and the edge of that cliff.

So I ran.

And when I leapt through the air, propelling myself further than felt human, I felt that burst of ecstasy that
couldn't be duplicated—not even by sex with Sam Uley.

Then, I completed one perfect flip—just as I had practiced the night before, before plunging into the depths of
the dark water.

When I emerged, I could hear the yells echoing down from above. Others on the beach were cheering and
clapping as well. I could see Yos standing in the surf, whistling.

I'd be lying if I said it wasn't exhilarating.

I was swimming toward Yos when I heard another splash before the cheering had even abated.

I smiled, because I knew exactly who it was.

I waited for him to surface, then. And when his head finally popped up, he ran his hand through his hair
before peering around him. It only took him a second to spot me, and then he was grinning again.

He swam toward me and, just as I was about to say something about trying to steal my thunder, he grabbed
me and pressed his lips to mine.

Of course, that just incited even more whistling and catcalls.

I smiled into the kiss, despite my self consciousness. It was hard not to.

He pulled away then and laughed.

"You know that shit drives me wild, don't you?" he asked.

"Hey, Uley—you've been driving girls all over this reservation wild for years with your diving. You're just
getting a taste of your own medicine, now."

He laughed again before taking my hand. Then, we swam to the shore together.

Yos greeted us there, and when he slapped me on the back, I realized I was one of the guys again.

I was grateful that Yos was so laid back about it all.

"Damn, girl. You sure upstaged us all, huh?" he said, laughing.

I grinned as the three of us began the trek up the path.

"Sorry I look so much better than you in a bikini, Yos."

"Oh, shut it!" Sam cried. "They're not cheering for the bikini!"

Yos snorted then and Sam's head whipped around to face him. I couldn't help but laugh. But Sam persisted.

"OK, maybe some of it was for the bikini. But really—she was fantastic. Did you see her flip, Yos?"

"Yeah, man. Just barely. I knew something major was coming because I heard the cheering. I thought maybe it
was gonna be you, so I was confused as hell when I heard the catcalls," he said.

All three of us laughed then, and I felt Sam wrap his arm around my waist as we trudged up the sandy hill.

When I looked up, he was looking down at me with that same gleam in his eye that he got right before he leapt
from the cliff.

"It's all coming together for me now," Yos mused.

"What is?" I asked.

"The two of you," he answered.

"What do you mean?"

"This guy's always talking about cliff diving like it's some sort of religious experience," he said, nodding
toward Sam. "It makes sense now that the two of you are hooking up."

I glanced up at Sam, then, and he shrugged. But I could see that phantom dimple. I knew Yos was onto
something.

Never in a million years would I have predicted the reception we got when we topped the crest of the hill,
though. The cheering started all over again, and everyone was coming up to me and, like…congratulating me.
There were high fives, and more whistles and someone shoved a beer in my hand.

Frankly, it was a little overwhelming.

So I did the only thing I could think to do.

I dove again.

It was actually probably the best thing I could've done, because people started to get used to the idea of me
diving with the other guys. I stopped being such a spectacle and I became just another diver.

So I guess I was still a spectacle, but only in as much as we all were.

After about five rotations through the line of divers, we all collapsed around the fire at the top of the cliff. Sam
got there before me and he was waiting, with a towel outstretched. When I walked to him, he wrapped me in it
and hugged me, still grinning.

It was really strange to think that a week prior, we had been shouting at each other on that cliff, unclear of
where we stood with one another.

We sat down, then, with the others. Sam propped his knees up and I sat between them, wrapped in the towel.
He had another towel draped loosely over his shoulders.

"So what gives, Leah? Has Sam secretly been teaching you to dive?" Cal asked, as Yos handed me a beer.

"Fuck that! I taught myself!" I cried. They all laughed. "Not that there's… There's not a whole lot to it, really. Is
there? Other than having the guts?"

"Yeah, I guess that's true," Yos answered, as I sipped the beer. "I mean, there's technique and form and stuff,
but I guess you don't really learn those from other people, either. Except maybe by watching."

I felt Sam rest his chin on my shoulder, then.

"So… Wait," Jacob spoke up. "Leah, I thought..."

But before he could finish his sentence, Quil punched him in the arm.

"Thought what?" Sam asked. And if I had been in a position to do so, I probably would have punched Sam in
the arm. Because I was almost positive that whatever Jacob was about to ask was better left unsaid.

"I just… I thought Leah was with Yos," he said.

Because only Jacob Black is oblivious enough to say something like that out loud.

There was a lot of lip biting and stifled laughter around the campfire, then. My eyes flashed quickly to Sasha,
who was sitting with Danny at the picnic table behind those sitting opposite the fire from us. The spots around
the fire were reserved for those who dove, and I have to admit that I got some satisfaction in earning my place
there. But when I saw what looked like pity in Sasha's eyes, I could feel the anger bubbling up inside of me. It
was clear that Sasha felt that I should feel embarrassed and ashamed about Jacob's question.

"Nah," Yos answered, shaking his head. "I would say that Leah traded up, but I don't think I was ever in the
running."

It was maybe the only thing anyone could have said that could have distracted me from my rage in that
moment. Because it was probably the classiest thing that Yos ever could have said.

He glanced over at us and, even though I couldn't see Sam's face, I'm pretty sure his probably looked much
like my own; for my part, I was smiling at Yos gratefully. He winked at us just before turning back to Jacob.

"Oh," Jacob said. But he was still looking at us instead of Yos. "So, you two are like…a couple now?" he asked.

The question caught me off guard and I must have looked like a deer in headlights, because everyone

proceeded to laugh at me, to the point that Sam leaned forward to try to get a look at my face and began
laughing with them. I buried my face in my hands, completely mortified that I had fumbled the question so
exquisitely, as only I could.

Sam, of course, recovered exquisitely.

"Nah, man. We're just bonin'. Right, Lee-lee?" he teased, just before planting a kiss on my temple as the others
continued to laugh. Then, he returned his chin to my shoulder as I took another drink of my beer. I turned my
head and offered the beer to Sam, but he shook his head.

"I don't drink," he whispered in my ear.

"Oh."

Only then did I recall a vague memory of my mother lamenting poor Sam Uley and his alcoholic father, back
when we were kids.

Fortunately, the others had moved on to some other topic. I just pulled the towel tighter around me and
relaxed back into Sam's chest, letting the fire warm my toes and watching the light of the flames dancing
across the faces of those around me. And every once in a while, when no one was looking, Sam would kiss my
neck.

And I knew then that he already had the potential to fulfill his promise.

…

Things came to a head at my house on Sunday.

I didn't realize my parents had even seen Sam drop me off the night before until that morning, not long after I

had rolled out of bed. I was scrounging around the kitchen for some food when I heard my mom call me.

"Leah. Can you come in here for a second?"

I could tell from her tone that it wasn't going to be pretty.

When I entered the living room, my mom was sitting bolt upright, on the edge of the couch. My dad was in his

recliner, slightly more relaxed. But from the look on my mom's face, I knew she was about to confront me. And
the fact that she had recruited Dad to be her backup meant it was serious.

Worse, Seth had been banished to his room.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to remain casual as I sat on the other end of the couch, facing her.

"Where were you last night?" she asked

"At the bonfire. Like everyone else."

"Who were you with?"

"What do you mean? I went by myself."

"Why weren't you with Sasha?"

"Whoa. Why am I getting interrogated?" I asked, glancing at my Dad. His face was creased with apprehension,
but little else. He didn't look angry.

"Leah, we got a call from Sasha's mom this morning while you were asleep. Apparently Sasha went home
crying."

"What?"

"Don't get mad at Sasha. I don't think she intended to snitch on you. She was just so distraught. She told her
mom that she was worried about you—that you've changed. That you're hanging out with the wrong people
and doing drugs."

"What?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I never thought in a million years that Sasha would tell our parents

about anything.

"Who was that that dropped you off last night?"

I was still too dumbstruck to speak. She had to repeat the question before I could answer. Lying didn't even
cross my mind. Not a whole lot was crossing my mind, at that point.

"Sam Uley."

"When did you start hanging out with Sam Uley?"

"Huh? I don't know. A few weeks ago. Why?"

"Does he do drugs?"

"I… I've never seen him do drugs. I don't know. I know he doesn't drink."

My mom sighed then, like she didn't believe me.

"Why did you stop hanging out with Sasha?" she continued.

"I didn't! I mean… She's mad at me, OK? I tried to work it out with her last night at the bonfire, but she just got
more pissed!"

"Why is she angry at you?"

"I don't know, Mom! I think she thinks I've replaced her with Sam or something!"

"So you are dating Sam?"

"Uh. Yeah, I guess. It's kind of new."

She sighed again, like that was the worst news I could have given her. Which kind of pissed me off.

"Leah, do you really think Sam Uley is going to be good for you?"

"Mom! What the hell! ? What do you have against Sam?"

"He comes from a broken home. His family…"

"Mom!"

But then Dad interrupted.

"Sue, honey—let's be fair. None of that is his fault."

I loved my dad.

Mom threw him a look over her shoulder.

"Harry! I don't want him seeing our daughter if he's doing drugs!"

"She just told you she's never seen him do drugs," he said plaintively.

Dad was wonderful like that. He defended me, even though I knew it scared him to do it. He was a mild

mannered guy. He hated conflict, but he was inviting a shit storm by doing exactly the opposite of what Mom
had hauled him in there to do. And maybe he wasn't even defending me so much as he was defending Sam,
because I think we all knew Mom was being unfair. If there was anything my dad always stood for, it was truth
and justice.

Well, and cheeseburgers.

"And you believe her, Harry! ? When she's been sneaking around with him! ? Sasha said that Leah's been
doing drugs! Of course she's going to lie about it!"

She was yelling then.

"No I'm not," I said flatly. They both snapped their attention back to me, then. I shrugged. "I smoke pot
sometimes."

"Leah!" my mom cried.

But Dad?

He just laughed.

It was awesome.

Then, it was like Mom didn't know who to scream at more. She kept looking from me to Dad and back to me,
as her face got progressively redder.

Finally, she landed on Dad.

"Harry! How can you laugh! ?"

"I'm sorry!" he choked out. "I just… Were you expecting her to say that? I wasn't!"

Then, I had to laugh a little, too.

Bad idea.

"Leah Clearwater!" she screamed, her head snapping back in my direction. "I don't see how this is funny!
You're seventeen and you're wrecking your life! Maybe I wouldn't mind your dating Sam Uley if it was just you
dating Sam Uley, and maybe I wouldn't mind your lackadaisical attitude about school and your future, if it was
just that. Hell, maybe I wouldn't even mind the marijuana if it was just you trying out drugs one time! But
when you combine all these things, Leah—you're going down the wrong path! And even though you're a
Daddy's girl and he may think it's funny now, he's not going to think it's funny when you're just another

unemployed, alcoholic Quileute before you even hit thirty!"

No one was laughing, then.

The room fell silent.

I looked at her for a long time, and she looked right back.

Neither of us looked at Dad, but his discomfort was almost palpable.

"Mom," I began, calmly. "Just because I'm dating Sam Uley and I smoke pot occasionally doesn't mean I'm
headed to alcoholic unemployment. I'm sorry that you don't understand why I don't care about college. But
you guys have taught me that family and community are my priorities. Things like money and reputation

don't matter. I know that Sam's reputation doesn't matter. What matters is who he really is. I'm not going to
pretend to know everything about him right now, but I'm getting to know him. I like to think that you guys
instilled in me the ability to judge character. Like, I know that Sasha is a good person. I know that she's just
mad at me right now. I know that my relationship with her is important. I know that you guys love me. I know
that I don't need more than what you've already given me. I don't necessarily think that ambition is always a
virtue. Sometimes the ability to be content with everything you've been given is pretty virtuous. And I'm
content with what you guys have given me. So, no: I don't feel the need to go off somewhere hundreds of miles
away from here to get a degree when I know I can stay here and be a contributing member of my family and
my community."

When I finished, the room was again silent as they both looked at me and took in my words. I saw all the anger
drain out of Mom's face. It was replaced with what looked like sadness. I cringed, knowing things were about
to get worse.

"Leah, it breaks my heart to listen to how articulate and smart you are in moments like this and know that you
don't intend to ever go to college."

"Those are not traits that only benefit those that seek higher education, Mom. I'm pretty sure they'll serve me
well no matter what I end up doing."

She stared at me a moment longer.

"Leah," she said quietly. "Can we…make a deal?"

"I'm not going to let you bribe me out of Sam, if that's what you're thinking."

"No. I'm not naïve enough to think that I can persuade you not to see him. But I would like you to promise me
that you will at least apply to colleges, when the time comes. That way, you will have the option of going if you
change your mind between now and when the admissions process rolls around."

"Oh," I said. Because she really wasn't asking that much. At all.

"And I would like you to visit at least one college campus."

"O….Kay," I said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it felt like I was getting off too easy. I had just
admitted to doing drugs, for god's sake.

"And I'm also not naïve enough to think that you'll stop doing drugs just because I tell you to, but I would like
you to seriously think about why you do them. And I want you to make sure that your little brother never, ever
catches wind of the fact that you do."

"OK," I said, nodding. But I was still apprehensive.

And then it came.

"And you need to bring Sam here so that we can meet him properly."

"Mom!" I cried.

"I don't want to hear it, Leah! We both know I'm not asking much!"

"That's… We just started dating! He's going to think I'm crazy! And it's not like he's a stranger! You guys have
met him before!"

"Yes, but he wasn't dating my daughter before."

"But—we're not even…"

I was going to say 'serious,' but the word caught in my throat.

"What, Leah?"

"Do you know how humiliating that will be? Can you at least give me a couple of months or something? I mean,
what if I bring him to the house and we break up a week later? It's still so new!"

"Fine. You've got until the summer. But if you're still seeing Sam Uley by the time the school year ends and he
hasn't stepped foot in this house, so help me god, I will make your life miserable."

"Fine!"

"Good!"

"Can I go eat breakfast now! ?"

"Yes."

…

I didn't go to the cliffs that night. I figured there was some potential that I'd get caught, and I really didn't want
to rock the boat.

I was both relieved and disappointed when Sam didn't crawl through my window, either.

…

When he picked me up Monday morning, it was like any other morning. He grinned at me when I got in, but he
didn't ask me where I had been the night before or kiss me or say anything, really. He just threw the car back
into gear and we drove in silence, both in our own heads, I guess.

…

At lunch that day, there was little time for cigarettes, as we laid in the warm dirt, hands all over each other,
lips skimming skin. There certainly weren't any words.

…

It's possible that we didn't utter a single word in each other's presence that day until the car ride home, when

I reached for my cigarettes and cursed under my breath, remembering I was out.

He chuckled, plucking the one from his lips and handing it to me.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"No problem. Sorry you're stuck smoking something non-exploitative."

I tried to glare at him, but I think I mostly just smiled.

"Aren't all cigarettes exploitative?" I countered.

He grinned.

"How do you get all the way to Forks on a regular basis for smokes, anyway? You don't even have a car."

"Oh. Yeah… That's why I'm out, actually. Usually, Sasha and I go into Forks at least once a week."

"Oh, damn. You two still haven't cooled your jets?" he asked. His eyes were still on the road, but he reached
over and plucked the cigarette out of my fingertips, taking another draw before handing it back to me. I don't
know why he didn't just light another for himself.

"I guess not. I tried, at the bonfire," I said, shrugging.

"Yeah. That didn't look like it went over too well," he said.

I sighed.

He was silent a moment.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked, glancing over at me. He looked nervous. It was so endearing, I almost
laughed a little.

"Not really," I answered. "But thank you."

"You, uh… I mean, I probably shouldn't enable you, but do you want a ride into Forks some time?"

I wanted to kiss him, then. It was like he kept finding ways to plug his fingers into all of my leaks. But I also
didn't want to impose on him that much. Forks was fifteen miles away. It was bad enough he was driving me to
and from school every day.

"Um. You don't have to do that," I said. "I mean, if you're ever on your way there, anyway, I wouldn't mind
tagging along."

"How about tomorrow, then?" he asked. The truck slowed down, as we had reached my house. After putting it
in park, he looked over at me expectantly.

I was skeptical.

"You just happen to be going into Forks tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yeah. Every Tuesday, actually."

"Really?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes. Really. Look, will these get you through until then?" he asked, tossing me what was left of his Reds.

"You don't have to give me your cigarettes."

"Leah—I don't mind, OK? I've got more. Just take the cigarettes and let me take you into Forks tomorrow."

I grinned.

And just as I was about to throw my arms around him in gratitude, we both heard a scream from inside the
house.

It was Seth.

…



Chapter Ten
…

I flew out of that truck and into our house before Sam even managed to get his door open, I think. But
somehow, he was standing right behind me when I found Seth on the living room floor, screaming in agony.

"Seth! What happened! ?" I cried, running and crouching down next to him. He was holding his arm, and tears
were streaming down his face.

"It hurts, Leah!" he cried. "Ahhh!"

He was rocking back and forth on his side, clutching his left arm to his body.

"Seth! What did you do! ?"

I was totally panicked, because I had never seen Seth in so much pain. I knew it wasn't just another bump or
scrape. It wasn't like the time I had "accidentally" tripped him and he sprained his ankle. Or the time I shoved
him down and he skinned both his knees. Or the time he got stung by the bee that I swatted off of me and onto
him.

Seeing him scream like that ripped my guts out.

He didn't answer my question, because he was too busy wailing.

And then, Sam appeared crouching next to us. He grabbed Seth's waist with one hand and an ankle in the
other and stilled him.

"Hey, Dude. Hold still for a second, OK? I'm gonna take a look."

Sam was totally calm.

Thank god.

Because I was freaking out.

Seth was still crying then, but he stopped rocking.

"Seth, what happened?" I asked again, as Sam inspected him, because he had at least stopped screaming.

"My arm," he choked out. "I fell."

"From where?" I asked. Because it wasn't like there was a fucking jungle gym in our living room. Leave it to
Seth to practically kill himself playing video games or something.

"The arm of the couch," he wheezed.

"Yeah. It's broken," Sam interrupted, looking up at me.

"Oh jesus, Seth!"

"It hurts!"

"You'll be alright, man. We just gotta get you to the hospital so they can put you back in order," Sam said.

"Oh Christ," I breathed.

"It's cool. I can give you guys a ride," Sam assured me.

I felt so bad for the guy. It was like he had turned into my personal chauffer. But Mom and Dad were at work
and I didn't have a car and I wanted to get Seth to the hospital fast, because I hated being the person
responsible for stuff. I was ready to hand him over to someone who knew what they were doing. Like maybe a
doctor.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

And when Seth screamed again, I knew I had no choice but to take Sam up on his offer. And when I saw Sam
suppressing a smile, I knew he knew Seth's scream was my way of saying yes.

Sam helped Seth to his feet as I ran to the kitchen and called my mom's work. It was awful, because they had to
find her and I was on hold forever, as Sam and Seth stood in the doorway, waiting.

When she finally came to the phone, the words came tumbling out faster than I realized, because I had to
repeat myself before she understood what was going on. Of course, she then proceeded to flip out and told me
she would meet us at the hospital as soon as she could.

I hung up the phone and looked at Sam and Seth. Sam raised his eyebrows.

"We ready?"

"Yeah. She's gonna come as soon as she can."

Seth just whimpered.

Then, I saw Sam's hand on Seth's back as they both turned, Sam corralling Seth out of the kitchen and toward
the front door.

And I knew my mom was all wrong about Sam.

Just as I had been.

…

As we drove to the hospital, we were quiet other than the occasional sniffle from Seth, who was seated

between Sam and me. Until Sam started talking.

"Never broken a bone before?" he asked, glancing down at Seth.

"No," he answered quietly. I think he was embarrassed about crying in front of Sam. "Even though Leah tried a
few times," he mumbled.

Sam laughed then. Heartily. And when I looked at Seth, I thought I saw just the hint of a smile.

"What'd you do, Lee-lee?" Sam asked.

My eyes darted to him and I glared, because that made twice he had used that god awful nickname.

"I didn't do anything. He's just…" I almost called Seth a crybaby, but figured that might actually wound him
under the circumstances. "He's just a whiner. He tripped once and sprained his ankle and blamed it on me. I'm
sure he'll find a way to blame this one me as well."

"You tripped me!" he yelled.

"I was just teaching you some coordination," I replied, smirking. Then, it was Seth's turn to glare at me. All the
while, Sam laughed at us.

When we finally got to the hospital, I was horrified when the nurse handed me a clipboard and told me to go
sit down—that it would be a while before they got to Seth. I don't know why I thought maybe they would
actually attend to him as soon as we arrived. Maybe because he was in pain. And twelve.

I muttered something under my breath, but didn't say anything audible, because the boys were standing right
next to me, and I figured it was better if we tried to keep Seth's mind off the wait. And the pain.

It was only as we sat down that I realized Sam didn't really need to be there any longer.

"Sam, you can go if you want. I'm sure my mom will be here, soon, and she can drive us home. There's no
reason for you to sit around with us. I'm sure it's going to be really boring."

"I don't mind," he said, leaning back in the chair.

He looked pretty mellow about the whole thing, and it was kind of strange seeing him like that without a
cigarette dangling from his mouth or his fingers down my pants.

"No, really. Who knows how long this is gonna take," I said.

Just then, Seth whimpered from where he was sitting between us. I don't know why. Maybe he had
inadvertently knocked his bad arm against the armrest of his chair or something.

"Chin up, kid. This is like a rite of passage," Sam said. "I've broken so many bones over the years—you
wouldn't believe it."

"Really?" Seth asked, looking at him with something like awe in his eyes.

"Heck yeah. I've broken my right arm twice. Broke my leg once, and a wrist. Once broke all the fingers in my
right hand."

"Did you hit somebody?" Seth asked.

"Nah. Punched a tree, like an idiot. I was probably about your age when I made that genius move."

"What about the others? Were any of them from cliff diving?" Seth asked eagerly. Because Sam's cliff diving
reputation preceded him.

Sam laughed.

"Nah. I've actually never hurt myself cliff diving. I guess it's kind of ironic."

I didn't even try to get Sam to leave after that. Because he kept Seth distracted for over an hour, as we sat in
that waiting room.

Mom didn't arrive until just before they set the bone. Seth was terrified, probably rightly so.

"Is it gonna hurt?" he asked, looking at the doctor. The doctor grimaced.

"It's gonna hurt like a bitch, dude. Don't let this guy lie to you," Sam said.

The doctor laughed, then, and somehow, impossibly, so did Seth.

And that was the moment Mom walked in.

"Seth! Are you OK?" she cried.

"Yeah, Mom. I'm fine," he answered.

"I was just about to set the bone," the doctor explained.

"Oh, honey. Do you want to hold my hand?" she asked.

"No, Ma!" Seth cried. "I'm fine!"

Mom looked up at Sam and me for the first time, then.

"Thank you for bringing them, Sam," she said, holding out her hand.

"Oh, no problem, Mrs. Clearwater," he answered, taking her hand in his own and shaking it. "Happy to do it.

I've been through this on more than one occasion with my cousins."

Then, a scream tore through the room. Because the doctor chose the one moment when none of us were
paying attention to Seth to set the bone.

Maybe that was on purpose.

Mom whirled around, but she didn't say anything. We all just watched Seth, cringing and waiting for the tears.

He was breathing heavily, and his mouth was twisted in pain.

He didn't cry, though.

He just mumbled under his breath.

"Fuck."

…

Sam drove me back home after the bone was set. Mom and Seth were still gonna be at the hospital for a while
as they fitted him with a cast.

"Thanks for everything, Sam," I said. "You were really great."

"No worries. Like I said, I've been through it plenty with my cousins. I guess the Uleys are an accident prone
bunch."

"Well, I think you managed to make my life a lot easier. I think you scored all kinds of points with Mom. And
maybe she'll be off my back, some."

"She's not a fan of me, huh?" he asked, suddenly somber.

"It's not that," I lied. "It's more like… She's not a fan of me hanging out with people of the opposite sex."

"Hey…speaking of sex," he said. I laughed. "No really," he continued, just as he turned onto my street. "You
haven't happened to find a random key anywhere in your room, have you?"

"Huh?"

"I just… I lost the extra key to my mom's car right around the same time I crawled through your window that
night. I thought maybe it fell out of my pocket while I was there."

It was so weird to hear Sam mention his mom. It wasn't as if I didn't know that he had one. I had met her at rez
functions before. But he had never talked about her in my presence. Then again, Sam and I hadn't talked a lot
about much of anything, other than maybe cliff diving.

"Oh. No. I haven't seen it," I said, as he parked outside my house for the third time that day. "But you can come
in and look for it if you want. No one's home right now.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Shouldn't take long, right?" I asked.

But then he got that glimmer in his eye.

"Ohhhh, no!" I cried. "Don't even think about it. Not when my dad might walk in on us!"

"Aw, come on, Lee-lee," he purred, leaning toward me and whispering into my neck just before pressing his
lips to it. "It's not even five o clock yet. I can be fast."

"Nooooo!" I yelled, flying out of the truck. Because I knew I'd be in trouble if I let him continue making
advances.

I heard him laughing in my wake as I opened the front door. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see him
hop out of the truck and slam the door. I prayed he was coming in just to look for the key.

I left the front door hanging open and walked to my room before he caught up, because I figured it might be
better if I began the search before he had a chance to touch me with those magic fingers, again.

I didn't realize I was in a very compromising position on the floor, on my hands and knees, until the room
darkened as his figure filled the doorway. I sat up on my knees immediately and turned to look at him.

But he wasn't even paying attention to me. His eyes were fixed on my nightstand.

Suddenly, he took two quick paces toward it and plucked something off of it. At first, I thought he had found
his key. But then I realized he had my birth control pills in his hand.

"Hey!" I cried, because it seemed a bit forward of him to be nosing around my stuff like that. But he just
ignored me. In fact, he opened the package and examined it, like I wasn't even there.

I stood up, and just as I snatched them out of his hand, his head fell back and he exclaimed.

"Oh, thank god!"

Then, he threw his arms around me and squeezed me to him.

And it dawned on me.

And I began laughing.

"You thought maybe I was pregnant this whole time?" I cried. But he just kept squeezing me.

He sighed and laughed before finally letting go.

"I didn't know, Leah! You never told me!"

"You didn't ask!"

"I thought it might be a bit of a dick move to fuck you without a condom and then have the nerve to ask you if
you were on the pill!" he cried.

I threw my head back and laughed again.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm kind of glad you've been sweatin' it this whole time. That's priceless."

"Oh man. I'm so relieved, I'm not even gonna get mad at how much you're enjoying my agony," he said, pulling
me back to him. I couldn't stop laughing, and I laughed into his chest, imagining how freaked he must have
been. I could almost feel the relief rolling off of him as he laughed, too.

…

We actually did find his key that day, after Sam had his little revelation. It was in the grass outside my
window.

I guess someone was looking out for Sam Uley that day.

He slipped out of the house before Dad got home, but not before asking me to meet him at the cliffs that night,
with that glimmer in his eyes.

…

I waited pretty late to go that night, to make sure my parents were asleep. It probably wasn't until two that I
got there, but he was sitting in his usual spot, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, eyes on the
ocean.

He was dry and clothed, though, so he must not have been diving.

I was only a few feet from him before he heard me, and then he leapt up immediately.

"Christ, girl. You know how to make a guy wait, huh?" he asked, pulling me to him.

"Sorry. Just trying to keep the parents oblivious."

I almost didn't have the words out of my mouth before I felt his tongue against mine, and I realized why he
was so eager for my arrival.

I thought about teasing him, but then he picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and my brain got
all fuzzy again. Having Sam between my thighs always made my brain fuzzy. He was still kissing me as he
began walking, simultaneously ripping the flip flops from my feet and dropping them on the ground with his
one free hand. He stopped walking when he reached the lone picnic table, near where we had all sat by the
fire over the weekend. He put me down on the end of it, where the long benches couldn't interfere with his
access to me. His lips continued roving over my face as I felt his fingers go for my jeans.

Sam could unbutton and unzip a girl's jeans with an adeptness that I preferred not to reflect on for too long.

He pulled away from my lips then and his fingers dug into my waist as he grabbed both the jeans and my
underwear. I took the cue and leaned back on my palms, raising myself off the table just long enough for him
to tear them off of me.

He grabbed me again and pulled me closer to him—to the very edge of the table. Just as I reached for his pants,
though, he dropped to his knees. I didn't realize what he was doing until I felt the soft scratch of his jaw
against the inside of my thigh.

And then I fell back to the table and clutched the sides of it with my hands, because I knew I was about to have
the best orgasm of my life.

…

After Sam guaranteed his relevance for a long time to come, he bent me over that picnic table, and the fucking
was glorious.

When it was over, we both collapsed onto the top of that table and shared a cigarette.

"I think I'm gonna cut off all my hair," I said idly, staring up at the sky and passing him the cigarette. I wasn't
expecting it when his head popped up.

"What?"

"It's getting to be summer. I can't stand it when it sticks to my neck in the heat."

He rolled over, then, so that he was suspended above me. He was looking at me as the cigarette dangled from
his lips. He mumbled around it.

"I like your hair."

"If that cigarette falls on me, I'm gonna kill you," I said, because it was poised to burn me if it slipped from his
lips. Sometimes I thought he'd kiss me with that cigarette still hanging from his mouth if he could find a way to
do it.

He just smirked and continued mumbling around it.

"Don't pretend you don't get off on that sort of thing."

"Shut up. I do not."

"I'm not judging, Lee-lee. It's cool. I'll admit it was pretty hot when you bit me that one time."

"That was just so I wouldn't wake up my parents," I shot back, reaching for the cigarette and taking it from
him. He narrowed his eyes at me.

"Whatever you say," he muttered, rolling off of me. We were quiet for a while after that, passing the cigarette
between us until Sam lit another.

"You know," he said, handing it to me, "I was younger than your brother when I first broke my arm, and I
didn't cry. He was pretty unreal. I'm pretty sure I've never seen a bigger pussy."

"What?"

I practically had whiplash I turned my head so fast.

It felt like he had just cracked the fragile glass that had been holding everything together up to that point. I
had always known that if I spent too much time with him—that if he spoke too much—he would say
something that would shatter all of my perfect illusions about him. I felt my heart plummet as I wondered if
we had already reached the moment I had feared all along.

He didn't answer right away, though. He just turned and looked at me with one eye open, like my anger didn't
even concern him enough to open both eyes—which only pissed me off more. Then, he had the nerve to lean
over and kiss my shoulder.

"Nothing, Babe. I was just showing you that I don't have to burn you with that cigarette to make you feel
something."

I felt like maybe I should have been angry, still.

He was such a fucking know-it-all.

But then…

I kind of just wanted to fuck him all over again.

So I did.

…

I had practically forgotten about going to Forks the next day until we were already leaving the school.

"Is it cool if we make a stop on the way?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course. It's your car."

"OK, cool."

I didn't ask him what kind of stop, since he didn't volunteer the information. When he pulled up to his house, I
knew it was his, even though I had never been in it. Because the rez is that small. I figured he was just gonna
run in and get something, so I was surprised when he reached over and took the cigarette out of my hands,
stubbing it out in the fold out ash tray in his dash and then snapping it shut. Then, he honked his horn.

Right on cue, a little girl came bouncing out the front door in a little pink tutu that clung to her little potbelly.
She couldn't have been much older than six.

I think my jaw hit the ground as she continued bouncing down the sidewalk, singing to herself and looking at
her feet. She was obviously completely oblivious to her surroundings. And it was the cutest thing I'd ever

seen. All I could do was stare.

It wasn't until she reached my door that she stopped bouncing, singing, and staring at her feet. And when she
looked up at me, her jaw hit the ground, too.

"Hey, Poke! This is Leah. I'm giving her a lift to Forks today, too," Sam explained.

The little girl's eyes narrowed and she glowered at me in that exaggerated yet genuine way that only small
children can pull off.

"You're in my seat," she growled.

I turned to look at Sam, mouth still agape, and I expected him to laugh, but he was rolling his eyes. Since I was
immobilized by the cute, he reached across me and opened the passenger seat, just before pulling me over to
him.

"There. Now she's not," he said. But "Poke" looked less than pleased with that particular development as a
resolution to the problem. She glowered even harder before starting to climb into the cab, but then Sam
interrupted her. "Get your booster, Poke!"

"No! There's no room for it, now! She's in the way!"

"Poke!"

And just when I thought she couldn't glower any harder, she did exactly that, just before jumping back down
from the cab and grumbling her way around the back of the truck. I craned my neck around to watch as she

climbed up onto the back bumper and then over the tailgate.

"Sam!" I whispered.

"Sorry. She's a bit of a brat sometimes."

"You… Who is she?" I asked, because I didn't recognize her.

"She's my cousin. I drive her to ballet on Tuesdays," he said, over the sound of her stomping across the bed of
the truck, where she retrieved the booster seat that I had never even noticed before. "Mom watches her for
my aunt on Tuesdays and Thursdays. They live in Forks."

"Oh my god. She's adorable," I whispered.

"Don't tell her that. She'll punch you."

The entire time he was talking, I watched her as she threw the booster out of the back of the truck before
climbing back over the back, jumping to the ground, and picking it back up. Then, she stomped back over to
the open passenger door and glowered at me some more.

"Move over!" she snapped.

That time, I had to stifle the laughter. And I think poor Poke realized how conflicted she was when Sam
scooted me closer to him himself.

"Why so grumpy, Pokes?" he asked, as she buckled herself in.

"I'm not grumpy!"

"Oh, OK," he said, pulling away from the house. "Are you excited for ballet?" he asked.

"No!"

"Oh. How was school?"

"Boring!"

Sam turned to me, then.

"Poke's in the first grade over in Forks."

"Oh yeah?" I asked. "Do you have any brothers or sisters, Poke?" I figured I could at least try to make nice with
her, even though Sam seemed to be having little success himself.

"No!"

"Poke!" Sam shouted.

"What! ?" she shouted back.

"Don't lie!"

She grumbled some and turned away from me, muttering under her breath.

"We can't hear you, Poke!" Sam shouted.

"Bucket!" she cried.

"What?" I asked, stifling another laugh. I thought maybe 'bucket' was a G-rated curse, the way she said it.

"My sister!"

"Oh. Is that a nickname?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's short for Fuss Bucket," Sam explained. "Poke's little sister is a bigger pain in the butt than Poke."

"Hey!" she cried, indignant, whipping her head around to glare at Sam.

"What's Bucket's real name?" I asked.

"Madeline," she mumbled.

"Is Poke a nickname?" I asked, only to realize I was probably going to be in a world of shit if it wasn't.

"Yes. My name's Sam," she said. And for the first time, she looked up at me, smiling smugly.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yep. Mom named me after him," she said, pointing.

I looked over at Sam, who was smiling.

"Is that true?" I asked.

"Kind of," he answered, eyes still on the road as we wound toward Forks. "Mom and Aunt Annie thought it
would be cute to give their kids matching names. But I mean, I'm Samuel and she's Samantha. I think Poke
kinda stuck because otherwise, it'd be too confusing."

"Where's 'Poke' come from?" I asked, returning my attention to the girl in question, lest she get surly again.

"It's 'cause I'm a poke!"

"What's a poke?"

"Poh-ohk, actually," Sam corrected. "When she was little I was teaching her Quileute, and that's the word for-"

"Indian," I interrupted.

"Right," he said, glancing over at me and showing a phantom dimple. "Sorry. I forget you're Harry Clearwater's
kid."

I smiled, because my dad's reputation as tribe elder preceded him. No one really spoke Quileute anymore, but
my dad was one of the few trying to keep it alive.

"So when I was trying to teach Poke that she was a Poh-ohk, she would always say, 'I'm Poke,' not realizing it
wasn't her name."

"That's ador-" but I caught myself. "That's really cool. Do you know any other Quileute?" I asked her.

Fortunately, she did. Because then we spent the rest of the thirty minute drive trading Quileute phrases.

…

When we got to the building where she had her lessons, Sam walked her in.

The second he got back in the car, I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Sam!"

"Don't start!" he cried.

"Oh my god!"

"Don't start!"

"How did-"

"Leah!"

"How do you even know what I'm gonna say! ?"

"You're gonna start talking about how cute it is that I drive Poke to ballet lessons and blah, blah, blah."

"She's… Oh my god, Sam."

Then he glanced over at me with that phantom dimple as he headed toward the gas station.

"She's pretty cute, huh?"

"Yes!" I cried.

"I know. You should see her sister."

"Are they your only cousins?"

"Nah. My aunt on my dad's side has four kids. That's where there's boys. That's also where I got the practice
with broken bones. Somehow, those guys always manage to break bones on my watch."

"Are you as close to them as you are Bucket and Poke?"

"Pretty much. Somehow, all the women in my family ended up single parents. So I got stuck doing a lot of
babysitting as soon as I was old enough, since I'm the oldest."

"I… didn't know this about you."

He shrugged.

"I tend to like kids more than I like people our age. I'm not sure if it's because my cousins are so awesome or
because other people suck so much."

I laughed.

"I won't lie—this is kind of blowing my mind right now," I admitted.

"Don't fixate, Leah. If you think about it too much, I'll stop being that fantasy I am for you when we have sex."

His words hung in the air for a second before he reached over me and got his cigarettes out of the glove
compartment and lit one deftly with one hand while he drove with the other.

He was making every effort not to look at me.

"You're not…"

"What? A fantasy for you?" he asked. "Yeah I am, Leah. Come on. We both know it."

I had to think for a minute before I could respond.
"You know, I think you're too paranoid about how people perceive you."

"I know how people perceive me. It's great for getting laid. But that's about all it's good for."

"And you think the fact that you drive your cousin to ballet is bad for getting laid?"

He rolled his eyes, then.

"Beside the point."

"What's the point?" I asked.

"That sometimes a guy's looking for something other than just getting laid."

The silence in the cab of that truck after he uttered those words permeated every crack and corner of the air,

making it heavy and suffocating.

I wanted to ask him if he was speaking in general terms or if he was speaking about girls, specifically… me,

specifically. I wanted to ask him which way he wanted me to perceive him, because he was giving me mixed
signals. I wanted to ask him how long he had been watching me at the cliffs before he made his appearance
that first night. I wanted to ask him what he would have done had I been pregnant, as he had feared. I wanted
to ask him about his father and his other cousins and about how many other girls he had been with.

Yet asking him those questions felt like flying too close to the sun—like we would melt and fall to the earth if
we said those words out loud.

And I realized maybe Sam was as terrified as I was.

Because we were already flying awfully close to the sun.

…



Chapter Eleven
…

Days began slipping into each other after that. Somehow, Sam and I found a rhythm. We would sit in that truck
and share cigarettes and speak as much or as little as we pleased. We would smoke at lunch, with the
occasional lunch time fuck. We'd meet at the cliffs and dive or fuck or both. Every once in a while, when it was
raining and I didn't go to the cliffs, Sam would crawl through my window.

I didn't encounter any members of his family again. And as the school year wound down, I wondered if the
impromptu introductions at the hospital with Seth fulfilled my obligations regarding Sam to my mother.

It was actually prom night that I began worrying about it.

It didn't escape Mom's attention that I wasn't attending the junior prom, with Sam or anyone else. Nor did it
escape her attention that Sasha and I had yet to make amends. When she asked me about prom, I shrugged
and told her Sam and I weren't really the prom type. Unfortunately, a conversation ensued whereby she made
it clear that her hospital encounter with Sam was not sufficient for me to fulfill my end of the agreement we

had made.

I'm not sure I had dreaded anything so much as I dreaded asking Sam to come to my house and meet my
parents.

He and I went diving at the cliffs that night.

The blanket from his truck hung languidly from his shoulders as he sat down behind where I was already
seated and he wrapped himself around me, near the edge of the cliff. It's where we always sat, staring at the
ocean, my body tucked into his.

His chin was rested on my shoulder, as usual, when he suddenly spoke.

"You know," he said. "I never even thought to see if you wanted to go to prom."

I grimaced. Because I loved that he had never even thought to bring it up. I didn't want him to bring it up then,
or ever.

"I didn't," I answered.

"Cool."

Just like that, he dropped it.

And I realized I had maybe missed my opportunity.

"Umm…speaking of…weird stuff…" I said, still staring at the ocean.

"Whoa. What's up? Your whole body just tensed up."

I laughed nervously.

"Um. It's my mom."

"Is she OK?" he asked, leaning over and trying to look at my face. So I scooted around until I was facing him.

"Yeah, she's fine. She's just…on my back."

"Ohhh. About us?"

It was a huge relief that he wasn't at all surprised about it—that he could even predict it.

"Yeah."

"She didn't forbid you from seeing me or anything, did she?" he asked, taking a draw of the cigarette we were
sharing before handing it to me.

"No. She just…wantsyoutocomebythehouse."

"Oh," he said. Like he was surprised it was something so insignificant. "Cool. No problem."

"Really?" I asked, totally dumbfounded.

"Yeah. Why's that a big deal?"

"I don't know. I just thought it would…make you uncomfortable or something."

"Nah. I mean, I can think of more fun ways to spend an evening, but… It needed to happen eventually, right?"

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Have you done this before?" I asked.

"Done what before?"

"Met a girl's parents."

Sam snorted then.

"Nah. Are you kidding?"

"See? I knew it was ridiculous!" I cried.

He laughed.

"That's not how I meant it. I just meant that I didn't exactly…"

"What?"

"Let's just say that there's not a lot of substance to my dating history."

I narrowed my eyes at him.
"In other words, you're used to just fucking girls."

"That's not what I said."

I smirked.

"You didn't have to."

"Shut up, Leah! You don't know anything about it! You make me sound like a total dick, but that's not what it
was! It's just… Those other girls... I wasn't crawling through their windows or jumping off cliffs after them,
OK?"

"That's just because they weren't jumping off any cliffs," I said dryly. I often wondered whether Sam would've
ever developed an interest in me if not for the diving.

"That's bullshit, Leah. I love you."

I froze.

I hadn't been expecting him to say it. In fact, I hadn't been expecting us to acknowledge it, ever. I thought it
was enough that we had carved out our own world together. I thought the euphoria of the diving and the
shared cigarettes and the mindblowing sex and the occasional glimpses into each other's real lives was
enough.

I didn't breath, terrified that he and I were about to destroy everything. Because it was the happiest I had
been in so long. But he had just put it out there, and left me to fuck it up somehow.

"Leah?"

His voice was quiet, and he looked a little worried.

But then I saw that phantom dimple.

"Sorry," I said, exhaling. "I just…wasn't expecting that."

"No kidding," he said, laughing.

Only people like Sam Uley can say something like that with enough confidence that my reaction didn't matter.
He was so comfortable in his own skin that he could love someone and say it with little concern about
reciprocation.

"I… I didn't think either of us would ever…say that…out loud."

His smile broadened into a grin, then, and he pulled me into his lap so that I was straddling him.

"Us?" he asked, his eye full of that glint. My head fell to his shoulder, then. That was all he needed to start
laughing at me. "Aw, Lee-lee," he teased, just above a whisper. "Are you saying you love me, too?"

The embarrassment was overwhelming. But I nodded quickly anyway, figuring I owed it to him. Because I did
love him. Despite everything.

It was pretty amazing, really.

I felt his body shake with laughter as he squeezed me to him.

Then, he whispered in my ear.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

….

It was shocking how smoothly it went the night Sam came over to eat dinner with my family. Dad grilled out in
the backyard and when he couldn't get the grill to light, Sam ran out and got another tank of propane. When
he got back, Sam helped Dad attach it while Seth quizzed him on his knowledge of cars.

I told Dad the story about how Poke got her nickname, because I knew he would appreciate it. Of course, he
was really impressed that Sam was trying to teach his cousins the Quileute language. That's all it took for Dad
to go into tribal elder mode, which meant that we got to listen to him telling stories for the rest of dinner
instead of worrying about Mom interrogating Sam.

I think Sam scored major points with her when he helped with the dishes. When she said something to him
about it, he mentioned being accustomed to helping his own mom with dishes every night. I think that scored
him even more points.

He seemed at ease the whole time, like it was something he had done a million times before.

Yet I knew he hadn't.

Despite all his ease and all his assurances, I still felt massively indebted to him by the end of the night. I tried
to convey that to him as I walked him to his truck, when Mom and Dad finally freed us.

"Sorry you had to sit through Dad's stories," I said.

"Nah, they were cool."

"Thank you for doing this. I'm really sorry."

He leaned against the door of his truck, then, and smiled at me.

"Stop apologizing. It wasn't a big deal. In fact, I think it's kind of cool. I feel all legit now."

"Legit?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Like maybe I can come through the front door of your house once in a while instead of your window.
It's a weird feeling…but I think I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

…

From that moment forward, life got strangely normal. If Sam came and picked me up on the weekends for a

bonfire or a trip into Forks, he would actually knock on the door, and he and Dad would shoot the shit, or
Mom would offer him some frybread.

The end of the school year was marked by little other than exams, which I drifted through much like I drifted
through everything else. It was only after a week of summer that I realized how different life was, without
Sam picking me up and dropping me off every day; without sharing cigarettes with him at lunch; without
avoiding Sasha staring daggers at me.

We still met at the cliffs at night that first week. But eventually, we found other people started congregating
there as well, when they didn't have school to worry about.

Then, Sam got a job on one of the fishing boats. I found out that that was how he had paid for his truck, and
largely what got him through the school year in terms of gas and cigarettes, much like the babysitting money I
squirreled away.

For a week or so there, we hardly saw each other. I think he got up so early and the job wore him out so much
that I became the only insomniac.

But then he started coming by the house after work.

He smelled like fish, but I didn't care.

We'd go to the beach, or sometimes we'd go hiking. Sam's mom invited me over for dinner occasionally and I
even helped babysit his cousins a couple of times. Once, we went into Port Angeles just to walk around. He
would throw his arm over my shoulder and whisper dirty things in my ear just to try to get a reaction out of
me as other people walked by.

June drifted into July and July into August. The summer was hot, and I spent days on the beach, reading and
smoking cigarettes. When I think of that summer now, I remember the sweet smell of unsmoked tobacco and
the salty taste of Sam's sweat.

It was the perfect way to spend a summer.

…

When school started back up, I dreaded the mornings, but looked forward to returning to the lunchtime
cigarette ritual Sam and I still shared, and getting to see him more during the day.

Sam's boss offered to let him stay on after the summer. I think he considered dropping out. I'm not sure what
stopped him.

Stranger still, when I started filling out college applications as per the agreement I made with my mother, Sam
did, too. He told me he wasn't gonna let me leave him in my dust.

I assured him that my attending college was unlikely.

Yos was the only one from his class that actually ended up going that year.

We both actually kinda missed him.

….

It wasn't long after we sent off those college applications that Sam disappeared. I didn't worry, initially.
Neither of us had cell phones, and it wasn't so unbelievable that Sam would ditch school for a couple of days
and go camping or something.

But after three days of not seeing him at school or at the cliffs or anywhere, I started to get worried.

His mom came to our house that third day.

We called the police shortly thereafter.

It wasn't until two weeks later that Sam reappeared, as mysteriously as he had vanished.

But he was different.

He had cut off all of his beautiful hair, and he was hot to the touch. I tried to make him go to the hospital,
because he was obviously running a fever, but he wouldn't go.

Worse, he wouldn't tell anyone where he had been.

Not even me.

He stopped meeting me at the cliffs. He stopped going to school. He stopped crawling in my window.

Two weeks after his return, I confronted him.

It was the first time Sam ever saw me cry.

…

I tried to make things work. I thought that if only I put in enough effort, I could figure out what was wrong, and
I could say the right thing to him, and he would come back to me.

He seemed like he was trying to make things work, too. But he had so many secrets. He talked less than ever,
and his mood was always dark.

I tried desperately to make him laugh.

I tried desperately just to make him smile—offering him my half-smoked cigarettes. Not once did I see that
phantom dimple, even.

Nothing worked.

…

I got into the University of Washington.

The crazy thing was, I actually kind of wanted to go.

I wanted Sam to go with me.

Maybe it'd get him away from whatever it was that was destroying him.

…

When my cousin, Emily, visited….

There was a bonfire.

From the moment Sam arrived, he stared at Emily.

Emily and I both thought it was strange.

But strange was normal, those days.

When I confronted Sam about it, he left.

No explanation.

…

The next time Emily and I encountered Sam, he fulfilled his promise.

More than I ever thought possible.

…

I went to the cliffs, because sometimes it felt like they were all I had left. As much as it hurt me for Sam to
leave me and as much as it hurt me to see that gleam in his eye finally return only for someone else, I could
still dive.

I never dreamt in a million years that Sam would choose that same night to return to the cliffs as well.

He hadn't been there in ages.

I stood up to leave as soon as I saw him, terrified I would burst into tears the second he looked at me.

He was at my side quicker than I would have thought possible, and he caught my arm.

"Lee-lee," he whispered.

But I didn't cry, like I thought I would. I whirled to face him and, instead, I screamed.

"Don't call me that! How can you call me that! ?"

It was as if by screaming, I thought maybe my words could slice him open as his one small utterance had me.

"Leah, I'm sorry!" he cried. But I wrenched myself free and kept walking. "Please! I didn't want any of this!
You have to know that!"

"Fuck you, Sam!" I shouted, without turning to face him. He caught up to me again—grabbed me again.

"Leah! There's something wrong with me! You don't understand! Nothing's right anymore! Everything's gone
wrong! I don't even…"

"Take. Your. God. Damned hands off me right now! You did this all to yourself! You did this to me! You did this
to all of us and now you want my pity! ? Go to hell, Sam!"

He let go of me then, and I turned to walk away.

"Leah, don't you see! ? I'm already there!"

His words sounded so genuinely plaintive, they seared through all of my own misery.

Hearing him talk to me that way… It was almost like the old Sam had returned. It was probably the most he
had said to me since he had mysteriously reappeared. And some small part of me hurt that night to hear my
Sam in so much pain.

I almost turned around.

But instead, I buried it deep inside. Because it was overwhelming enough trying to cope with my own pain.

…

Two nights after that last encounter, Sam's mom called our house. She asked to speak to me. As much as I
resented Sam for the fact that he still invaded my life in such ways, I couldn't resent Sam's mom.

She was worried about Sam. She said he'd been acting worse than she'd seen him in weeks. She worried that
maybe he was on drugs or that he had started drinking like his father. She told me that she didn't know why
we had broken up, but she knew that it was Sam's fault and that it was a mistake he would regret. She begged
me to forgive him for whatever he had done and help her try to get her son back from the brink of whatever
abyss it was he'd found.

I told her I was sorry, but that I couldn't help her.

…

Two nights after that, I lay awake in my bed, smoking a cigarette.

Mom and Dad didn't say anything to me when I started smoking in my room. Apparently, my situation was so

pitiable they would let me get away with even that.

That probably just made it worse—knowing how everyone pitied me.

It started raining, which suited my mood fine. I even opened my window to listen to it.

Not long after I returned to staring at the ceiling above my bed, though, the storm turned violent. The

lightning was the kind that lit up the entire house, and the thunder was so loud, I jumped. The rain pounded
my window sill hard and fast until I finally got back up to close the window, realizing the floor near it was
getting soaked.

But it was just as I was about to close it, as the rain splattered my t-shirt, that I saw something lying in the
grass outside my window. I squinted at it for a second before I realized it was just an empty beer bottle. Then,
I reached up to slam the window before I got even more rain soaked when my eyes fell on the ground directly
below it.

There, lying in the mud, was a half empty pack of Marlboro Reds.

It took less than a second for the realization to hit me.

Then, instead of shutting the window, I jumped through it.

I didn't even think to put on pants or shoes. I just fucking ran.

And as the rain pummeled me, I ran so fast that my feet didn't even have time to feel the pain of anything
other than the sting that preceded the numbness. They numbed to even the sting as I pushed, faster and

faster. I cut through yards and, eventually, the forest. I careened around trees, blinded by the rain.

But I knew the path.

I arrived at the top of the cliff just in time to see a bottle slip from the fingers that hung limply at his side.

It was just as I screamed his name that he stepped off that cliff.

He took no running leap. He didn't even jump. He simply took one step forward and disappeared, almost as if
he had never been there.

Without even thinking—without releasing the scream or the tears that were poised in my throat, I ran.

I dove off the cliff with no thought to the crashing waves or the storm or the fact that Sam probably hadn't
even cleared the rocks beneath the cliff. I dove without even thinking about how much I hated him.

It was only as I plummeted toward the waters that raged with a fury I had never before witnessed that I
realized we had both commit suicide that night.

…

As the water overtook me, I knew I was no match for it. I could only pray that it would be quick, as it tossed me
about, churning as if angry at me for daring to doubt it's ability to crush me.

Somewhere, though, I thought of my parents, and Seth. And it was that place in me that made me struggle. I
tried to fight the water—to find the way up to the surface, at least. If I could at least figure out which way was
up, I could get a breath of air and maybe start again, if only I didn't meet those rocks first.

But I couldn't find which way was up. Every time I thought I had it, and I grasped for air, my hands only found

more water. With every attempt, I felt more disoriented, and I began to feel hopeless. And as the hopelessness
crept in, I began to give up.

Then, I began to panic.

That was when I inhaled the water.

I wanted to cry for what I had done to my parents and to Seth, so stupidly.

I wanted to cry for the fact that it had been for Sam, who had only destroyed us both.

And yet, after I thought those things, all I could think of was the taste of that salty sweat, and the sight of that
phantom dimple, and the feel of his chin resting on my shoulder.

When I felt his arm wrap around me, pressing me to him, I knew I'd died.

…

The next thing I remember is lying on the beach, coughing up water as the rain continued to beat down on me.
It was cold, and I was terrified, because the storm was still raging and I was unsure of where I was or what had
just happened. It took a few moments for me to realize that someone was shouting my name.

"Leah!"

My eyes focused then, and for one brief second, I thought maybe it had all been a nightmare. Because I was
back in Sam's arms.

But when I saw that his beautiful hair was still shorn off and he was still the Sam I no longer knew, I burst into
tears, which only burned my already scorched throat more.

He didn't try to console me. He took one look at me and began sobbing himself, collapsing onto me, so that I
could feel his tears on my shoulder, wet and hot in contrast to the rain.

We held onto each other then, sobbing. I'd like to say that we clung to each other as if we had both just
escaped death.

Really, I think we both died that night.

And because we were both dead, we wept for the Leah and Sam who had once lived.

Because we had not only lived—we had once lifted our faces to the sun and felt its warmth.

…



Chapter Twelve
…

In some ways, I suppose I should be grateful to Sam Uley for hurting me. It was what I had hoped for, after all.

The only problem was—once Sam proved it was possible to hurt me—everything hurt.

Like when I became a monster.

Or when all of the others could hear my thoughts—knowing my pain and humiliation.

Or when Dad collapsed in the living room not long thereafter.

Or when I agreed to be a bridesmaid for Emily….

I hear their thoughts, too. I know they think I'm a harpy.

They don't understand that inflicting all the anger in the world on them is infinitely better than their having
to feel even one drop of the pain. The bitterness is easier than remembering the way his breath felt on the
back of my neck or the way he jumped out of his skin every time I pinched him. It's better than wondering
how much he enjoys the sex with Emily—if it's as good as it was with us. It's better than wishing, every time I
smoke an American Spirit, that it was a Marlboro Red.

It's been years now.

Yet I still hate Sam Uley.

Almost as much as I still love him.

...



Chapter Thirteen
…

It wasn't like I asked Leah Clearwater to start showing up at the cliffs. And I wasn't trying to be a creeper. In
fact, a part of me was a little pissed that someone else was intruding on my spot.

But a bigger part of me was intrigued.

It was pretty intriguing that another insomniac had chosen the cliffs to wile away some of those more desolate
hours.

So I hung back, that first night, when I saw her there alone, smoking a joint. I watched her for a little while, to
see if she'd dive. After all, why come to the cliffs if not to dive?

She didn't look very inclined to do anything other than smoke that joint, though, so I left not long after she

arrived.

That was the first night I began to notice Leah Clearwater, though.

I noticed when she walked to the end of the football field at lunch the next day. I wondered if it was because
she was smoking another joint. I decided to investigate. I became even more intrigued when she smoked
American Spirits and appeared really annoyed at my presence. But fuck it—because if she was gonna start
showing up at the cliffs, I wasn't gonna feel bad about showing up at the end of the football field.

That was also when I realized how hot she was. I guess I never noticed before because she was sort of a
tomboy. But when we were sitting in the dirt that day, I noticed the way her t-shirt clung to her, and I realized
she had a body that rivaled that of any other girl in La Push. I was a little surprised I hadn't noticed before that
day.

…

The second time I bugged her, I knew I was in trouble. When she went off about the irrelevance of the
cigarettes and the bigger problems plaguing American Indians…she got so riled up…and it was so fucking hot.

Plus, I was pretty sure she was attracted to me, too.

Sure, she was fighting it.

But it was something to work with.

…

That night at the cliffs, I waited in the woods. That's probably really creepy. I didn't care. I wanted to see if she
showed up, but I didn't want to scare her off.

That was the night she willed herself to sit on the edge. It was obvious she was terrified.

I shouldn't have watched.

I'm pretty sure she woulda stabbed me had she known I was watching.

But it was really cute.

…

The bonfire was when I knew she was in trouble, too. I caught her looking at me. Sure, she caught me looking
at her, too. But I wasn't the one frontin'.

The looks on their faces when I talked to them—it was priceless. I shouldn't admit it, but I know how the girls
are when the guys are diving. Heck, that's half the reason the guys dive.

Plus, it was the perfect opportunity to encourage her to take the leap without revealing that I knew what she
did at night.

…

I didn't think she'd show up Sunday night. It looked like rain. I was just about to go home myself when she
suddenly appeared. It was actually pretty miraculous she didn't see me.

When she suddenly took off her clothes, I wasn't even prepared for what I felt. My first reaction—it was like I

was getting to relive my first dive. I was so psyched for her. I didn't even really know her, but I was proud of
her. I was cheering so loud in my head.

It was only a second after that that I realized I was creeping in the forest like a total creeper, watching her
strip down to her underwear. That was when I felt horrified with myself.

Then, maybe because I was thinking about how I shouldn't have been checking her out, I started doing
precisely that.

Who the fuck am I kidding? There was no chance I wasn't going to eyefuck her that night.

I creeped myself out pretty bad that night. I was way too turned on and it was way too creepy and… I stayed
away from Leah Clearwater and the cliffs for a while after that.

I didn't like feeling like a pervert.

…

Thursday, I almost followed her out to the football field again. I figured if I talked to her, I wouldn't have to
feel like a creeper.

Plus, she was driving me crazy.

I was just about to go look for her when Yos grabbed me to ditch that day.

…

I went to the cliffs that night. I told myself I wouldn't hide like a creeper. My plan was to act like it was just a
coincidence that we ran into each other if she showed up. Like the way it would have been that first night, if I
had shown my face.

By the time I got there, though, she was already sprinting.

It was fucking magnificent.

There was no chance I wasn't going to follow her off that cliff.

I was done for.

…

I'm not even sure fucking her was my intent when I dove. But it definitely became my intent soon after.

God, it was the hottest sex I'd ever had.

At some point, I realized it was her first time. Maybe that should have weirded me out. But the way she owned
it—the same way she owned that cliff that night—it just turned me on more.

It was like the entire world blew apart.

Only when I looked down at her after it was over did I see the first sign of apprehension on her face. I knew
that Leah Clearwater was a walking contradiction, but seeing the look on her face after the sex was
heartbreaking. I didn't want the sex to be a mistake. The thing I wanted least in the world was for that sex to
be a mistake.

When I watched her run, I thought I'd die.

I had no idea until I saw her back…

I was such an idiot.

I almost chased her.

Maybe I should have.

Instead, I threw up.

…

I don't know what kind of reaction I was expecting when I cornered her at lunch the next day. I guess I should
have expected exactly what I got.

When she told me she didn't regret it, I believed her.

I thought that answer would make me feel better.

Then I thought about how my mother never blamed my Dad for any of the shit he did to her.

At least Leah was pissed at me.

I guess.

…

I was supposed to go camping with Yos and the other guys that weekend. I backed out, because I was really
hoping to get Leah to talk to me.

I wasn't sure if it was more for her sake or my own.

It was pretty motherfucking ironic when I found out Yos gave my spot on the trip to Leah.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, he fucked her, too.

When I heard about that, I almost lost my shit. It wasn't even that I wanted to kill Yos. Sure, I kind of wanted to
kill him. But more than that, I realized that maybe Leah had bigger issues than just me…and that Yos and I
were just making it worse.

Part of me wished she'd actually stick with Yos. Yos was a good guy. He probably woulda been good for her. He
certainly wouldn't hurt her the way I had.

But I couldn't really get comfortable with that idea.

I was also highly doubtful she'd stick with him, anyway.

And it was just one more time I had to resent the hell out of my father for making me so neurotic. As if I didn't
have enough other reasons to hate him.

…

Monday night, I was so glad she showed up.

She had been diving, which I thought was a good sign. But then I looked at her. It wasn't just her back that
made her hard to look at. It was also the vacant expression on her face. She had to be fucking freezing, too. But
she just sat there, half naked and still soaking wet from the ocean. She didn't even react when I showed up,
really.

I had no idea what I was doing that night.

Until I did, I guess.

I think that was the night I figured her out.

It might have been the night I figured myself out, too.

When I refused to have sex with her again, she was so pissed at me.

It didn't really matter.

I was already head over heels.

…

Fuck.

That skirt?

Just… fuck.

…

That night, we dove.

I think cliff diving could solve all the world's problems, really. If more people would just… It's not just the
adrenaline rush. It's like flying. It's like refusing to be bound by the earth. It's fucking euphoric.

It's like sex with Leah Clearwater.

But we didn't have sex that night.

We didn't have to—we dove instead.

She let me walk her home after.

And then I kissed her.

Maybe we did shit backwards.

Whatever.

…

I felt bad when she had a fight with her friend. I worried that it was just one more thing that wouldn't stop her
from flying apart. Sasha Fox seemed like the only person she really talked to.

But I guess at least it gave me the opportunity to give her a ride home.

Maybe I wouldn't be able to stop her from flying apart.

But I could try.

…

So, crawling into her window wasn't exactly planned. I just… I had a hard time staying away.

God, her tits.

…

We had an actual conversation not long after that.

It was weird.

But good.

…

Just when I thought we were settling into a routine, like maybe we could find a little normal, she and Sasha
had another blowout. On the beach, in front of everyone.

I hoped it wasn't a big deal.

I didn't think it was a particularly good sign that she went and got high with Yos afterwards.

It was when she and Yos came strolling up the cliff path that I wanted to stab Yos more than at any other time.
If she wanted to fuck him in the mountains, that was her business. But I was pretty sure flirting with him at
the cliffs was gonna be my hard limit.

Actually, that's a lie.

I was going down with the ship at that point. Getting Leah Clearwater to stay interested in me was an uphill
battle, but one I was pretty committed to. I wasn't gonna let her erase me or any of the things we'd shared. We
both knew the sex was mindblowing. We both knew there was a reason the sex was mindblowing. She
couldn't erase that if she tried.

I gave her some space that night, against my better judgment. But when she finished climbing up that path
with Yos, she found me. It wasn't some big thing. She just quietly wandered over to where I was standing and
started talking to me. But it felt huge. Like she had come back. Like even though she had had a fight with her

friend and sought comfort in the weed and Yos, she wasn't gonna fly apart. And I think maybe it was almost
better that she came to me second instead of first. I didn't want to be the drug. I wanted to be what was left
when the drug wore off.

She dove that night.

It was even more magnificent than the first time.

I loved that others finally saw her dive.

I hated it, too. Before, I had been the only one. And I knew that no one else saw it for what it was. No one
appreciated Leah Clearwater's diving the way I did. None of them understood. Especially that night. There was
so much more to it than they realized.

My ability to give her space that night ran out the moment she leapt from that cliff.

It wasn't really about marking my territory or going public or any of that other shit that night. Really, I just
couldn't keep my hands off of her.

And maybe I was trying to send a message.

But it wasn't for the others.

It was for Leah.

…

Being with Leah was easy. We spent the summer being lazy together when I wasn't working. I almost dropped
out of school to continue working when the summer ended. It was easy imagining working and buying a little

house and marrying Leah and having a family. We were happy. I didn't need much more than that, really. But
Leah was applying to colleges. She said she wouldn't go, but I wasn't going to take any chances on losing her
just because she moved to Seattle or something.

Fuck that.

…

I used to think I couldn't hate my father any more that I already did. I guess some of the hate faded….or
became irrelevant, in a way, when I found Leah. I finally realized becoming him, or even remotely like him,
wasn't inevitable. I realized I was my own man, and I made my own decisions. I realized I could treat her right.

So it was just as I was getting over my daddy issues that his genes dicked me over more than I ever could have
even imagined possible.

Those first few days, I thought I'd gone insane.

After the first few weeks, I thought the worst was over. It had to be over.

But then I imprinted.

I love Emily.

Truly.

But I hate the imprint.

It was like I was becoming my father, and not because of any decision I'd made. It was like I couldn't be my
own man.

And it hurt the shit out of Leah.

The real bitch of it was that I still loved Leah.

I couldn't tell her anything about what was going on.

I wished that we had fizzled out. Or grown tired of each other. I wish that we had grown to hate each other. I
wish that she had gotten too naggy or clingy or I had become too boring or surly. Everything would have
been…easier. I tried to give her at least that. I tried to make her hate me. For a while, I thought I'd succeeded.

I used to sit under her window at night, wondering if she was awake or asleep. Wondering how she got to
Forks to buy cigarettes. Wondering if she still went cliff diving. Wondering how much she hated me.

Hating myself.

I wanted to die.

Every single time I thought I'd hit rock bottom, it'd only get worse.

Even suicide made things worse. Because I couldn't even get that right.

When Leah followed me off the cliff, I realized she still loved me.

That made it infinitely worse.

And yet weren't things worse for her than for me? She was so much stronger than me.

She dove off that cliff to save me. And sure, maybe I'd been the one to pull her from the water. But if she hadn't
loved me enough to dive off that cliff after me, maybe I woulda been able to drown myself. I certainly wouldn't
have had any incentive not to drown.

But I couldn't let Leah drown.

So really, she did save me.

When we cried in each other's arms that night, I prayed that that was the low point. I couldn't bear any more.

Emily made things better and worse. At least I could tell Emily what had happened, when she finally accepted
me. But every time I took some comfort in Emily, it was like no comfort at all, because it was always swiftly
followed by the searing guilt.

And then Leah phased.

Initially, I thought maybe it would be a good thing, because she would know what happened. I could at least
explain it all.

But then her dad died.

And then I heard her thoughts.

And she heard mine.

And so did everyone else.

She still loved me. And from that point forward, she knew that I still loved her, too. But she was also faced with
every one of my thoughts about Emily.

I'm not sure I can imagine anything more brutal. If I hadn't loved her, she could've at least had some closure. I
wanted to stop loving her. I wanted her to stop loving me. But once we were in each other's heads, it was like
it was impossible. It was just this awful fucking cycle of remembering every touch and every cigarette and
every laugh and knowing that if it weren't for some awful mutant gene, we would have been happy together.
Even though we had never uttered words about it out loud to each other at the time, we both saw the visions
we had both had of our future together. We had both thought about getting that little house and having a
couple of brats. It was heartbreaking how similar our visions had been.

She could see my memory of watching her leap from that cliff that first night. I could see hers of that night I
had kissed every scar on her back. We could actually see how we saw each other.

And every time one of us got sucked down into the black hole of all of those memories, we took the other one
with us.

And all of it was on perpetual display for the rest of the pack.

I prayed that Leah would imprint.

Almost as much as I prayed she wouldn't.

~ Fin ~