The next morning, I'm up very earlier. I feel restless. I rise with the boys, who have me on their schedule of early mornings. Despite what it might look like, this is not a frat house. Rather, we get up and make breakfast every day. Today, Jacob has taken my place. I realize I was the one who borrowed his spot in their friendship. Cliff-diving, surfing, driving around in the cars. It's all stuff they did with him. If I leave with Cedar, I will return everything I have stolen from him.

A knock erupts at the door, and I get up to get it, but Jacob cuts me off. He rushes over to the entrance, and grabs the door handle, yanking it back.

Cedar is taller than me, broader than me, but Jacob is much taller, much broader. His chest is bulkier and his scowl is wider. Cedar, from below, glares at Jacob.

"You one of those mutts?" he asks.

I sour, still approaching. I've never seen Cedar around a boy our age, and I'm not appreciating his behaviour.

"If you didn't matter to her, you can bet that-"

"Jacob," I hush him, ducking around his body in the doorframe to face Cedar. "Hey."

"Where's your stuff?" Cedar says. "You didn't come to the inn."

I pause and look at him. The conversation from last night feels so long ago that I try to wrap my head around what I told him. "It's seven in the morning! Did you want me by your side at the crack of dawn?"

"I'm not going to wait around forever," he lowers his voice, leaning in close to me to whisper something directly into my hearing aid.

Jacob grabs Cedar by the shoulder and rips him off of me, "nice try, but no."

Cedar looks at Jacob. I don't expect him to throw a punch. I know him better than that. Rather, I suspect that he will plot. He's clever. He'll come back with an army.

One that will be torn to shreds, but an army nonetheless.

"I'm not leaving without her," he says. He raises his voice, shouting through the house. "You thick-skulled idiots aren't going to stop me."

"If I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut," Quil laughs. "That way, I'd only look stupid, instead of sounding stupid too."

Cedar bites his lip. He looks at me, then peers behind Jacob and me at Quil and Embry. He leans in close again before Jacob nudges him backwards. Cedar sighs, "are you courting one of them? And living with them out of wedlock?"

"Oh my, you are so out of line that... that..." I can feel myself bursting with anger. I shove him backwards, and he manages to catch himself before he hits the ground.

"Fawn," he begins, and I shove him again. I push him until he is backed up against one of the cars.

Quil and Embry are yipping and hollering behind me.

"Next time you talk shit to me, I will sic these so-called werewolves on you, and I won't feel sorry about it," I tell him. I don't want him to ruin my perspective of him, but it's becoming too late. He truly is too deep in the quicksand to be pulled out. If I try to grab him, it'll suck me under.

"I'm not giving up on you," Cedar insists. He grabs my hands but I pull out of his grip. "I might not marry you, but some man will make you virtuous and righteous again. Luke 11:25. And when it comes, it finds-"

"Leave," I command. I'm not listening to him recite the prayer over and over again.

He continues reciting the prayer and gets on his knees, muttering something to himself. This man would not recognize me. He would not even recognize the person he has become. How much has changed in the two months I'd been gone? He was always more devout than me. I'm shocked by how what was once a small division has become a gaping chasm.

I turn around and head into the house.

Jacob's got a smirk on his face. He locks the door behind us and returns to the kitchen. They turned off the burners while we were gone, but left the pans on the heat so the eggs are a bit burnt, but the pancakes seem fine. The toast has grown cold out of the toaster, and there is half-washed fruit beside the counter.

I take a seat at the table and let the boys. My house is not tidy and in order. My house is a mess. I heard that prayer every day of my life. Cedar is right, I'm living an impure life. However, virtue has never mattered much to me.

"That guy has a stick shoved so far up his ass that it's poking out his throat," Quil laughs. The imagery kind of grosses me out. I'm used to the macabre, but still.

"You really stuck it to him," Embry says, taking his spot with the eggs. He plates them while the others deal with the pancakes, toast and fruit.

"I don't want to talk about it," I tell them. I have barely processed last night, and now I have to add this morning to my list of traumas.

Jacob nods his head, and they finish in silence. All I hear during breakfast is the scraping of cutlery on plates. I want to take off my hearing aids but it feels rude.

When I'm done, and the boys are still eating, I clear my plate and head into the backyard. From there, I grab a wooden chair and sit around the firepit. It is too misty for a fire, and it is cold outside. Without the adrenaline pumping through me, I feel rather icy. Soon, I'm going to need a winter coat. That will significantly deplete my funds for saving up to live in an apartment.

Every step I take feels like the wrong one.

"Hey," Jacob walks up from behind me.

I'm too exhausted to get up, "hey."

When he sits down across from me, he folds his hands in his lap. He doesn't say a word, instead opting to stare at me.

"You were so content not to look at me before," I joke, the bitter taste of it reaching my tongue, "what's changed?"

He looks at me deeply, "I saw you for the first time, and I couldn't bear to never see you again."

My heart stutters in my chest. I wait for it to settle, looking away from him, "I think the jig was just up."

"If I was smart at all, I would've kept it going," he says, "but I'd rather be able to see you hate me than hear you happy."

"I wouldn't say I was happy before," I correct. If I recall correctly, we were fighting just before all of this went down anyway. He is so difficult, Jacob. He enrages me more than anyone I've ever met, and I was part of the convent for my whole life up until this point. I, more than anyone I know, have reason to be angry.

"You kept secrets too," he shakes his head.

That's not fair. I divulged my secrets. I wasn't trapped in the cage that was his lie, only let out when the beast within him escaped. I didn't manipulate him into getting close to me. I didn't try not to love him at all costs.

I tripped over my own mistakes and fell into his arms, only to find out that he was trying to avoid holding me.

"You don't want me," I tell him.

He mumbles something. I hate when people mumble. I wish I had friends to turn to and talk with, but I'm trapped under his thumb. I want to abandon him.

"It's impossible to hear you with one hearing aid," I tell him.

"It doesn't matter," he says.

I hate when people do stuff like that. When I don't hear them, I need them to repeat themselves. They act like it's a nuisance for them and them alone as if it doesn't bother me as well. People, especially individuals like Jacob Black, are selfish. Incredibly so.

Then again, I don't want to hear him out.

"You're right," I agree. "It doesn't matter."

I get up and he follows me. He holds my hand, pulling me in closer to him. Our chests are close together, his breath is heavy but it is in sync with mine.

"You matter to me, Fawn," he tells me, his eyes narrowing in on me. "In a way that no one else has ever mattered to me before."

I shudder. His hand is still on mine, holding me close to him. I don't want to pull away. I want to be his, forever.

Clearly though, he doesn't want to be mine. Not properly. Not like one ought to want to be mine.

"That's because you've never imprinted on anyone else before," I whisper, averting my gaze. His hand slips from mine, and I turn, walking away.

~~~~~

It's tense. Very, very tense. Exciting still. Jacob is still trying to woo her over, and I'm ecstatic about it. Where will this go? I don't know (I do but my lips are sealed).