Wednesday, May 18, 2005
(Mike)
The moment I got home from school, I went straight for the kitchen like a starving animal.
I didn't even bother pretending I had manners.
There was a pot on the stove, about two-thirds full of leftover rice. Good enough. I grabbed three cans of tuna from the cupboard, half a head of lettuce from the fridge, a lemon, and dumped everything together with the kind of reckless efficiency that comes from being very hungry and not remotely picky about food. I didn't even look for a bowl. I mixed it all right there in the pot, cracked open a two-liter bottle of Coke, and ate straight from it with a spoon.
Classy.
By the time I finished, the edge of my hunger had dulled, not gone, but manageable. I leaned back against the counter for a moment, drank straight from the bottle, and patted my belly.
With that crisis handled, I retreated to my room. I shut the door, kicked off my shoes, and sat cross-legged on the bed, spine straight, hands resting loosely on my knees. This was something I'd been trying, unsuccessfully, ever since the Quileute bonfire.
Leaving my body.
Not physically, obviously. Spiritually.
My ancestors used to do it. Walk the world as spirit instead of flesh. Astral projection, soul walking, whatever name you wanted to give it. It was a real thing once. Before Taha Aki forbade it.
Yeah. I knew it was forbidden.
But honestly? Why should I follow the rules of a tribe I wasn't exactly part of?
Still, I wasn't stupid about it. If I ever actually managed to pull it off, I planned to stay close. Really close. A few steps at most. The idea of drifting too far and coming back to find my body dead, or worse, occupied, was not high on my list of life goals.
I closed my eyes and took a slow breath.
Focus. Empty the mind. Center the spirit.
…Which would've been a lot easier if my brain didn't immediately decide to think about everything else.
Did I lock my locker today?
What am I going to eat for dinner?
Did Rick Astley technically count as a guardian spirit at this point?
And then, completely uninvited, his song popped into my head.
Never gonna give you up~
My foot started tapping before I even realized it. A second later, my shoulders followed, swaying slightly to a rhythm that absolutely did not belong in a serious meditative exercise.
I sighed and opened one eye.
Who knew meditating was this hard?
I reset my posture, forced myself to go still, and tried again, pushing everything aside, quieting my thoughts, reaching inward instead of outward.
Five seconds passed.
Never gonna let you down~
I groaned and flopped backward onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
If my ancestors were watching me right now, they were either deeply disappointed… or laughing their asses off.
Probably both.
Still, if Rick Astley ever taught me something, it was to never give up.
One way or another, I was going to figure this out, even if it meant learning how to meditate without accidentally starting a one-man dance party in my own head.
…
I cracked one eye open and glanced at the clock on my nightstand.
Still a couple of hours before my parents got home and we all sat down for dinner.
Plenty of time.
I rolled off the bed, grabbed my shoes, and headed out the back door. A run sounded perfect right now, clear my head, burn off lunch to make extra space for dinner, stretch my paws a bit.
Literally.
Once I was in the woods, I pulled off my clothes and stored them in a plastic bag which I hung on a tree branch. Tied a pair of shorts on my leg with an elastic band and took a deep breath.
The shift came easily. Bones flowing instead of breaking, muscle rearranging itself like it remembered where it belonged better than I did. One moment I was human, the next the world expanded, sharper, brighter, much louder.
I took off into the woods, my wolf form eating up the distance effortlessly. The ground barely slowed me down, every scent layered and alive, every sound crisp. Wind through trees. Distant birds. Earth and moss and damp bark.
God, I loved this part.
Somewhere along the run, I caught the unmistakable scent of deer.
A whole herd.
I slowed, crouching instinctively as shapes moved between the trees ahead. Strong. Healthy. Easy targets. For half a second, the urge surged, clean, simple, honest hunger.
Then I stopped myself.
Not the season.
I snorted softly and kept my distance. I didn't really care about human laws, but this wasn't about that. This was about balance. Even the Cullens were careful to keep the balance when feeding, and if vampires could respect that line, so could I.
I turned away, and suddenly froze.
A voice echoed inside my head, panicked and breathless.
{Mike? Is that you?}
I skidded to a halt, heart pounding.
…Great. Fantastic. Astral projection didn't work, but apparently I'd unlocked schizophrenia.
Then the voice spoke again, clearer this time.
{Mike?}
My stomach dropped.
{Leah?} I thought back cautiously.
There was a rush of emotion, confusion, amazement, panic layered on top of excitement.
{Yeah, I… oh my God, I think I just phased,} she said. {This is so weird. Everything looks… sharper. And the smells… Mike, it's overwhelming.}
I relaxed a little, ears flicking.
{Focus on one scent,} I told her. {Just pick one. The rest will fade into the background.}
There was a pause, then a shaky breath.
{Okay… yeah. That helps. A little.}
Then she added, more annoyed than panicked now,
{Also, why are you singing SpongeBob's theme song?}
I groaned internally.
{Sorry. Force of habit,} I admitted. {Whenever someone tries to read my mind, Edward, specifically, I automatically start singing whatever comes to mind first.}
{Please stop,} she said flatly.
{Already done.}
Another pause.
{Where are you?} I asked.
{Near the store,} Leah answered. {I was at work when it hit me. Felt like pressure, like I was about to explode out of my skin. I barely made it into the woods before… well.} She hesitated. {Before I exploded out of my clothes into a mass of fur.}
I winced sympathetically. {Yeah. That sounds about right.}
I turned without hesitation, adjusting my path.
{Alright,} I said. {Stay right there. Don't move. I'm coming to you.}
Her relief was immediate.
{Okay. Please hurry.}
I broke into a full sprint, the forest blurring around me as I ran toward her. Whatever else tonight had planned, one thing was clear.
Leah wasn't going through her first shift alone. Not if I had anything to say about it.
…
(Short chapter, I didn't want to leave you without chapter today so I put it together really fast. I went to vote today and the options sucked, the poop against the turd. I didn't know who to vote for, then remembered the poop was communist (not that there's anything wrong with communism, just that it depends completely on politicians being honest, which is absolutely impossible so yeah...), thus I voted for the turd, which won in the end. But I still don't feel good about having a turd as a president... Why must reality always be so disappointing?)