Breathe

The phone buzzed in my ear as I held it to my cheek, listening to Dr. Quintero's scratchy, not so feminine voice psycho-analyze me. "How have things been going?" She asked. I pondered my answer for a moment, reliving everything in my head that had happened in the last week.

"Fine, I guess. Nothing much has changed."

"You sound happier. Has anything significant happened that you've not told me?"

I wanted to tell her to mind her own damn business, but my mom paid her too much for me to be rude. "No."

"Sarah, you know that I can't help you unless you give me solid answers. You mentioned last time that your friends Julia and Anthony? came down to see you. How was that?" I imagined her crossing her bone-thin legs, her pen at the dull yellow legal pad. Dr. Quintero was a pro at short hand, that much I had noticed.

"Yeah. It was fun. They just left a few days ago." I was slumped up on the couch, lazily watching the television. It's not as if I had anything else to do, anyway. Jacob had to patrol the woods more often now, and it was really starting to freak me out. He had told me once that the only reason that wolves are created in their genes is to protect their people.

Whatever it was, it needed to get the hell out.

"Are these the same friends from after -"

"Yes." I didn't want her to say it, and even though I felt a little better about it, I didn't want her to tell me I was wrong.

"I'm glad you made amends with them. That's good." I could hear the faint scratching of her pen as she wrote down what I was saying. "How is Jacob?"

"Fine. We're still seeing each other."

"That's good. Is he good to you?"

Dr. Quintero had a very bad habit of making me extremely uncomfortable, of asking the painful, personal questions that she knew struck a nerve. I really didn't like talking about it with her.

"Yes."

"You're not very talkative tonight. Is there something on your mind?"

Yes, but I wasn't going to tell you, Dr. Quintero. I couldn't tell you. Being Jacob's imprint, there was always something that I felt constantly worried about, whether it was him getting hurt, or accidentally saying something that might give them away. I couldn't afford that. "I'm just tired. It's been a long few weeks."

"Why?"

"No particular reason." I brought my knees up to my chest.

"Do you see him often?"

"Often enough."

*

The car was silent as I drove to Jacob's house in La Push. Dad had lent it to me, after a week of good behaviour and proving to him that I actually had my license, and that it wasn't fake. I couldn't remember the last time I had been to his house, and so I was nervous. Having only met Jacob's father once, at the bonfire, I wanted to make a good impression, especially since I wasn't a native. There had to be something he liked about me.

Jacob lived a mile or two outside of the actual town, in the middle of a thicket of trees, just like Emily and Sam. It didn't take me very long to find it, as he had given me very specific instructions.

Not really.

"Jacob, I swear to god I am never driving myself over here ever again." I slammed the car door shut, meeting the native Quileute boy halfway to his front door. "You wanted me to get lost, didn't you?"

Jacob wrapped his arms around my waist, touching his lips to mine in a short kiss. "Because that's how I spend my day, Sarah, coming up with ideas that will confuse you."

I rested my head on his chest, but only for a second. "It wouldn't surprise me," I said softly. My fingers pulled at the back of his tee-shirt. We stood like that for a few moments before he twirled his fingers through my hair.

"I'm really happy you came, though." He kissed my nose. "I feel like we just took two steps forward, and one step back. You haven't met my father yet." Jacob smiled meekly, and took my hand, leading me up to the front door. The Black house was small. From the outside, it looked as if the only person that would fit would be Jacob. But from what he's told me, he has two sisters who only moved out a few years ago.

"I just want him to like me." I stopped, which caused him to, also. "I mean - I'm not -"

"He'll like you. My father is a lot more open minded than a lot of people know." He tugged my wrist reassuringly. "Don't worry about it, Sarah."

I sighed in defeat, and went inside with him. The house appeared just as it did outside: small. Immediately, I found myself standing in the living room, where two couches had been set adjacent to each other. A television had been placed in the corner. There was a coffee table on either end of the couches, and the floor was covered in blankets.

"Ignore the mess. I totally forgot to clean up. I've been sleeping out here lately." He led me through the living room, and through what appeared to be a kitchen, but I could only assume it hasn't been used in years. We went through the back door, where an old man in a wheel chair was poking at a fire. "Dad," Jacob said, standing in front of me.

"It's about dang time you got here!" Jacob's father exclaimed, peering over Jacob's shoulder and smiling at me. "I was beginning to think that he was making you up."

I blushed, and Jacob squeezed my hand. "It's nice to meet you, uh -"

"Call me Billy. Everyone does."

I smiled nervously. Jacob said, "this is Sarah."

It would've been a nice introduction, except for the fact that three (rather large) dogs broke through the tree line of the Blacks' property. I knew better than to think that we were going to get hurt, that it was probably just Paul, Sam, and Embry.

Jacob went to meet them, resting his hand on the black dog's head. Sam. I was out of earshot, but I had a strange feeling. Billy looked at me, and when I caught his gaze, he smiled. "So, have you been in the area long? Where do you live?"

"Port Angeles. I moved here at the beginning of the summer." I sat down in one of the deck chairs in front of me.

"Oh, so you're a ways out there." He laughed. I looked back over to Jacob, who was kneeling beside Sam now. The expression on his face was scary. Something was wrong.

"Yeah."

Billy must've sensed some tension, because he said, "this opens a whole new perspective of the world, doesn't it?"

My eyes flicked over to meet his. I could tell he was scared, too. I couldn't recall Jacob ever mentioning if his father had the gene, too, but he had to have.

"Dad," I heard Jacob say, his footsteps rattling the deck. "We have a problem."