Howl.

"I miss you," I said, stretching my palms across Embry's chest. We stood on the front porch of my house, and it was late. There had only been a few people still at First Beach when we left. Since I had driven, I dropped Mary off at her house and had brought Embry with me, considering that he only lived a few blocks away. "Do you remember when we would stomp around the woods, playing hide-and-seek?"

Embry grinned. "Yeah. You were always really good at hiding."

"That's because I was small."

It didn't bother me that Embry had only started talking to me because I was his imprint. Maybe if I had had a different perspective of the situation, it might've bothered me a little bit more. But for now, I didn't care. I had Embry back, and if this was the only reason, then I was ok with that.

"So do you want to hang out at Sam's tomorrow?"

I smiled from the side of my mouth, and shrugged. "I guess. Who's Sam, though?"

"You don't remember Sam? Sam Uley?"

I shook my head. "Not ringing a bell." He laughed, and I hugged him, digging my face into his warm, muscular chest. "Mm, yeah, I'll go with you." My mind wandered back to imprinting, no matter how hard I tried to think about something else. It was strange to think that I was somebody's soul mate. I never really believed in love, especially after Dad left. I couldn't imagine how someone could love someone else so much, but then abandon them.

Embry abandoned me.

I sighed, and clung to him, trying not to cry. It must not have worked, because Embry pressed my hair down and said, "are you alright?"

"I.." I stood back, and rubbed my face. "I'm tired. Should probably get back inside."

Embry frowned, and kissed my forehead. I always loved when he did that. "I'll call you tomorrow, k?"

With another hug, I went back inside and kicked my sandals off. Mom sat on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand and a blanket covering her legs. "Hey, sweetie. I wasn't expecting you home so soon."

I glanced at the clock, confused. "Ma, it's almost one in the morning."

"And you're a seventeen year old girl."

"Are you drunk?" She had a growing habit, and was pretty terrifying when she was under the influence. Mom didn't beat me, she just cried for hours.

"No. Perfectly sober." She hiccuped, and I sighed impatiently. "I'm very happy you're talking to Embry again."

I sat down on the loveseat adjacent to the couch, crossing my ankles on the coffee table. "It's weird. He's so different." I couldn't even begin to list all of the ways that he had changed.

"I'm sure. It's been six months."

I picked at my fingernails, and rewound the night in my head. All of the strange looks from the Elders seemed to make a little sense now, but there were a few that really bothered me. It was like something was going to happen to me, and they knew about it.

I said goodnight, and climbed the stairs to my bedroom. The room had been painted only about a year ago, changing from an old urine colored yellow to a light rosy pink, and it made me feel girlier than I would like to admit. But my bedroom was the only place that I really felt comfortable in. All of my little trinkets that I'd find, that Mom called stupid, were hung from the ceiling, or in the window. I had always loved collecting rocks, wind chimes, and especially dream catchers.

La Push, being the Indian Reservation that it was, was a very traditional little town. There was a Pow Wow every year, and some of the Elders even still spoke Quileute, a language that I only knew a few words of.

My favorite dream catcher hung on the right bed post, sparkling with tiny plastic jewels and decorated with an assortment of colored feathers. I remember when Embry gave it to me. We were in seventh grade, and we had gotten into a pretty nasty fight, and I don't even remember why it had gotten so bad. Embry made it, and gave it to me the day afterward.

That was the day that I realized I wanted to be friends with him for the rest of my life. And now that he had imprinted on me? It was going to take our friendship down a whole different road. I knew what imprinting was. There were three stages, depending on the age of the imprintee.

And both of us were old enough for stage three: romance.

It scared me. I couldn't imagine Embry to be anything more than my friend. I loved him, but I wasn't sure if I loved him in that way.

Groaning, I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face into my pillow. It felt like I was being thrown everything all at once, but for some reason, not even the idea of werewolves bothered me. But how could werewolves exist?

This didn't make any sense.