what doesn't kill us makes us who we are

I'm pretty sure Mom wants me to get an after school job because I woke up this morning and there were five job applications taped to my forehead. I only wish I was kidding. Okay, yes, I spend a considerable amount of time just lying around the house these days, but, seriously, what else is there to do? My homework's always completed and handed in on time. If I want to take a nap or twelve, I should be allowed to take a nap. Or twelve.

Then again, Mom can lock me out of the house, so another job it is. I think the convenience store might be willing to hire me back just as long as I stop attaching price tags to myself while on the clock, but Mom's handed me forms for a book store, a music store, a grocery store, a garage, and a toy store. So, I have options.

Private to Jacob;

Way to keep in touch with your friends, man. How are you and your prepubescent blood-sucking lover doing? Quil and his (sans the blood-sucking, of course) are doing fantastic.

End Private;

I just remembered. Christmas is looming on the distant horizon. I'm not actually expected to buy things for you people, am I?

Private to Rachel;

My mom's going up to the Makah reservation tomorrow which means I'll probably be at home eating microwaveable popcorn and watching infomercials as my brain slowly melts from boredom. Option two is that you could come over, bring movies, and let me cook dinner and kick your ass at x-box. It's kind of like a date except we don't actually go anywhere. Up for it?

End Private;

Private to Sam and Emily;

Mom came up to my room last night and she sat on my bed and she finally talked to me about it. Y'know. Dad. It was a long time in coming and it really made me feel better about all this. I mean, I'm alright with it at this point, but if I had any reservations left, this pretty much cleared them up. And, on the upside, Mom and I are speak again. We made dinner together and sat in front of the TV eating fondue and watching Lifetime movies.

Uh, her choice, not mine. Anyway.

End Private;

I have officially played video games for seven hours straight. On the upside, my hand/eye coordination has never been better. On the downside, I'm still half-convinced my name is Jin Kazama and I'm supposed to be at the King of Iron Fist Tournament. If I start speaking Japanese, then I'll know I have a problem.

Private to self;

This is the longest Mom and I have ever gone without speaking. It's been, what, four days since the wedding? And I talked to her about Jackson Uley as soon as I got in the house, although talked is really the wrong word for what I did, which means we haven't spoken since she told me to go to my room and then slammed her bedroom door shut. We are at an impasse. A check. A cold war. It's weird. I'm used to talking to her about everything and if there was ever a time I needed to talk to her...

But, no. She caused this whole thing by not telling me. Although, honestly, I didn't want to know. I don't even know how to feel anymore. Should I be angry? Should I be upset? Should I be happy? Maybe relieved. I don't know, I'm all of that and it's getting harder and harder to keep myself human. I don't want to lose it over something like this. But I'm just so...

End Private;

I have finished all my homework. For the next week. I'm still in the mood for it, though, so I'm opening up a limited time offer: if any of you guys have some homework you don't feel like doing, I'll do it for you free of charge. For some of you, it could be the only A you see all year. I don't even care what kind of homework it is, just hand it over.

We've also run out of ice cream in here. You'd think that would be impossible because we buy those huge tubs in bulk, but, no, it's all gone. I can't begin to describe to you how devastating this is for me.

Private to Pack, Emily, and Kim;

Since I know you're all going to find out anyway because I can't actively avoid phasing for very long, I'm kind of seeing someone. Okay, not kind of. I am seeing someone. And she's absolutely fantastic and I really like her and she's also Rachel, so. Yeah. I told you, so don't pick it out of my mind and torture me with your teasing. I, unlike some people, will at least try not to constantly think about kissing her or whatever.

End Private;

I can't believe summer's almost over. Way too many things happened over the last three months. What is it about the 24-hour freedom and the heat that makes big things happen to the unsuspecting? Or maybe all that 24-hour freedom just gives us license to get into a lot more trouble than we do when we actually have school.

Speaking of school, I may need to learn to get inventive about sneaking out of the house. Which means I will actually have to sneak out of the house. I've never had a reason to before, but... who knows?

Private to Emily;

Can I talk to you? If you're busy making plans for the wedding, I can help, but I just... really want to talk to you.

End Private;

Private to Rachel;

I just realized what this means. When we go to Seattle, you'll have to introduce me to your friends as your boyfriend to prove to me you're not ashamed of me. Which also means, if they are good friends, there will be no attempts to get into my pants. I love how this works out well for all involved.

End Private;

I got the job at the convenience store! It's off the rez, so you lazy bums will have to ride your bikes up if you want any free and/or discounted stuff (don't tell my manager), but I start tomorrow. Part-time, though. It may be summer, but I have things to do when the sun goes down.

Private to wolves;

Jake and I talked to the bloodsuckers. These Volturi guys are no joke. One of them can inflict pain with her mind the other two deal in mind control (your mind, his control). And, from what Cullen can infer, these powers will work on us.

A plan of attack would be good. I think we need a meeting of our own or something because currently? If they decided to come pick us off, we'd be like furry little puppets ripe for the slaughter.

End private;

Private;

He missed my birthday. He better come home with a damn present lodged between his jaws or I'll help everyone massacre him for running off.

In any case, I may be another year older, but I don't feel another year wiser. This time last year, I was still Embry Call, awkward but well-meaning reservation youth with the dirt bike that could outrace almost everyone else's. This year, I'm Embry Call, werewolf warrior with the anatomically impossible body heat and the dirt bike that can still outrace almost everyone else's. It's good to know some things never change.

Other things, though, never stay the same and that's what I hate.

End Private;

I pimped out my bike today. It's now candy apple red with my name on it in blazing black letters. Try stealing that. I also got a new helmet to match.

Less exciting, I picked up a job application from the convenience store and the police station and I have no idea who to put as my references. Do Billy and Sam count? They count, right?

It occurs to me that it'd be a pretty good idea for me to get a job since my parents have gotten lax on shelling out my allowance and I need money for things like going to the movies and replacing bike parts.

My options, limitless though they are, seem pretty bleak. Convenience store worker or police station filing assistant? Decisions, decisions...

Private to Quileute werewolves;

Rachel and Rebecca are getting a little too curious about where Jacob is. Exactly how long is he going to be "camping" before he has to "visit a distant relative" or "hike through the Andes" or "whatever inventive lie Billy comes up with next". Can't we just sit them both down and tell them Jacob's run off to lick his wounds and leave it at that?

End Private;

Speaking of the movies, don't go with Rachel. She will keep trying to engage you in a spirited discussion of such topics as "True Gentlemen Switch Seats With Women Who Accidentally Sat Spilled Soda" and "Why The Popcorn Has To Stay On Her Side Of The Arm Rest". I'm not kidding.

Private to Quileute Werewolves;

Jacobwatch: Day indeterminable.


Logically, what with him gaining control over his transformations so much faster than the rest of us, all that suppressed rage had to go somewhere. He was like a ticking time bomb. Apparently, that invite was enough to send the time down to 0:00. And, to make matters worse, he's not in wolf form anymore so we have no idea where he is.

I watched from the cliffs for awhile, but I didn't see any familiar shadows wandering back to the Blacks' house. Billy's getting worried, Quil's getting antsy, and I'm kind of tired of being on Jacobwatch because it's hard to strap clothes and an umbrella to my leg when I run.

Besides, I didn't get an invitation to this wedding. Maybe I'll get bitter and run off, too.

End Private;

I made Billy Black dinner and stayed over to watch the game with him (I'm not sure which game it was, but there's always a game playing that men can sit around and watch with one another) although he assured me he was capable of doing both of these things on his own and that, aside from the obvious worry and anxiety, he was perfectly fine. I would have stayed over if I hadn't had work to do at home, too.

I don't know. Maybe it's the situation or the rain, but there's just something about the reservation that seems really depressing these days. Jacob kind of lit up the place with his idiocity. Now what am I supposed to do? Watch Quil watch Claire?

My panic research was no help
I sink into myself, afraid of the fall that never ends
I wait, but I’m too tired to play pretend
I suffocate until the end


( no time for half-hearted goodbyes )