Mike glanced at the driftwood log where the woman, Leah as he’d later learn, sat with her arms crossed and an expression still sharp enough to cut glass.
He rubbed the back of his neck and put on his most harmless grin.
“Mind if I sit?
I think I stepped on a broken shell or something.
My feet are killing me.” Before she could answer, he dropped down beside her, close enough that their shoulders were almost touching.
Leah slowly turned her head and gave him a look that could’ve frozen lava.
“Did I say you could sit?” she asked, her voice low and edged with disbelief.
“Are all pale faces this shameless?” Despite her tone, though, she didn’t actually tell him to move.
In fact, after a second she shifted slightly, making just enough room for him to sit more comfortably.
Mike bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling.
Interesting.
Her words and actions seemed to be having a full-blown argument with each other, and watching her try to keep that scowl in place was strangely entertaining.
Feigning offense, he pressed a hand dramatically against his chest.
“Hey, that’s the third time you’ve called me pale face already,” he said.
“I’ll have you know my great-grandmother was Quileute.
I probably inherited my healthy tan from her.” He lifted his chin proudly.
Apparently, the universe took that as a challenge.
The clouds overhead shifted and sunlight suddenly spilled directly onto him like a spotlight.
Mike stared upward.
Leah stared too.
His already fair skin somehow looked even paler now, practically glowing under the sunlight.
For a second, there was silence.
Then Leah’s lips twitched.
Mike looked back at the sky with betrayal in his eyes.
“Okay,” he muttered, “that’s just rude.” That did it.
Leah tried to hold her glare, she really did, but the whole thing was too ridiculous.
Her shoulders shook once before a laugh escaped, light and genuine.
Not one of those polite little laughs people used to fill silence, but a real laugh.
Bright and warm and completely unguarded.
Mike turned toward her and, for a second, forgot about his sore feet, the sunlight, and even the awkward beginning of their meeting.
Watching her laugh like that somehow made the whole ridiculous situation worth it.
He chuckled softly and shook his head.
“You know,” he said, tilting his head toward her, “you should laugh more often.
Don’t get me wrong, your frown is pretty charming too, but that smile?” He grinned.
“Whole different level.” Leah raised an eyebrow, trying to rebuild her scowl, though the corners of her mouth still betrayed her.
“You really don’t quit, do you?” Mike shrugged.
“What can I say?
I’ve got a philosophy.
Smile at life and maybe life smiles back.” Leah snorted.
“That is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.” “Maybe,” Mike admitted while leaning back on his hands and looking out toward the waves, “but it’s still better than frowning until your face gets permanently stuck.” Despite herself, Leah let out another snort and quickly covered it with her hand.
“You’re an idiot.” Mike grinned wider.
“Yeah,” he said, “but you’re still talking to me.” Leah rolled her eyes, though she didn’t tell him to leave.
Mike, still riding on the victory of making her laugh, decided to keep the conversation going before she could retreat behind that wall of sharp remarks again.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
“So,” he asked casually, “what are you doing here all by yourself?” The question hung in the air for a moment.
Leah’s shoulders tensed immediately.
Her first instinct was to shut him down and tell him to mind his own business.
Her lips parted and the familiar response already started forming.
But Mike suddenly raised a hand.
“Actually, forget that,” he said quickly with a disarming grin.
“You probably don’t want to tell some random stranger your life story.” Leah blinked.
Mike tapped his chest lightly.
“So let’s fix the stranger part first.” She looked at him curiously.
“Name’s Mike Newton.
Seventeen years old.
Birthday’s July twenty-seventh, in case you feel like getting me something.
No pressure, of course.” Leah stared at him.
Mike continued with complete sincerity.
“Let’s see…
I’m a Leo, which according to my mom means I’m supposed to be confident and irresistible.” He nodded seriously.
“My favorite food is lasagna.
I hate mornings, and one time I tried skateboarding down a hill and ended up flying straight into a bush.” He sighed dramatically.
“Very heroic story.” Leah slowly turned toward him.
“You really do like hearing yourself talk, don’t you?” “Only when there’s someone worth talking to,” Mike replied with a grin.
Leah looked away immediately.
Stupid answer.
Stupid warm smile.
He leaned back slightly.
“Alright, your turn.
No pressure though.
If you don’t want to tell me anything, just say so.” Leah stared out at the horizon while the waves rolled in and crashed against the shore.
For a while she didn’t answer.
Then finally: “Leah Clearwater.
Nineteen.” She glanced sideways at him.
“So show some respect, pipsqueak.” Mike blinked.
“Nineteen?” She smirked slightly.
“Yup.” Mike looked down at her, then looked at himself.
Then looked back at her.
“Older, maybe,” he said slowly, “but I think you’ve got the pipsqueak title pretty thoroughly locked down.” Leah glared.
“Careful, pale face.” Mike groaned.
“Seriously?
Again?” Leah crossed her arms.
“You said you’re part Quileute, right?
Prove it.” Mike straightened immediately.
“You doubt my heritage?” Leah nodded shamelessly.
Mike placed a hand against his chest.
“My great-grandmother was Dorothy Black.” Leah frowned slightly.
“Black…?” Mike nodded.
“Her younger brother became chief later.” Leah stared at him for a second.
“Wait.” Mike raised an eyebrow.
“Wait?” “You’re serious?” “Painfully.” Leah looked him up and down again.
Then narrowed her eyes.
“You still look like a pale face.” Mike looked scandalized.
“Unbelievable.” Then he straightened dramatically.
“Well, if we’re getting technical, in another timeline I’d probably be your future chief.” Leah stared.
Mike pointed proudly at himself.
“My great-grandmother was older than Ephraim Black.
If everyone wasn’t so traditional back then, she could’ve been chief instead.” He grinned.
“So technically speaking, you might want to be a little nicer to your future leader.” Leah stared at him for two full seconds.
Then: “You’re an idiot.” Mike grinned.
“Yeah, but I’m your idiot now, right?” Leah immediately stood up.
“Nope.
Absolutely not.” Mike laughed and stood too.
“Where are we going, then?” “My butt’s getting numb.” She brushed sand off her jeans.
“How about we walk, Chief Pale Face?” Mike looked offended.
“Chief Pale Face?” “You earned it.” They started walking side by side beneath the trees, damp earth crunching softly under their feet while the ocean murmured in the distance.
After a while, Leah surprised herself by speaking first.
“So what are you even doing here alone?” Mike scratched the back of his neck.
“Oh, that.” He laughed awkwardly.
“I found out recently that I’ve got Quileute ancestry and figured I’d come here to see if I’d feel some kind of mystical connection to the land.” Leah stopped walking, then slowly turned toward him.
Then proceeded to burst into laughter.
“Oh my god,” she wheezed.
“That’s so stupid.” Mike looked betrayed.
“Hey.” “A mystical connection?” she laughed.
“What are you, some kind of spiritual tourist?” Mike rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“It sounded less dumb in my head.” Leah wiped at the corner of her eye.
“You really are hopeless, Chief Pale Face.” “Careful,” Mike warned.
“Keep saying that and I’ll make it an official title.” Her laughter softened, becoming quieter and more natural.
Mike watched her for a moment before asking again: “So…
what about you?” Leah almost told him to mind his own business.
Almost.
But something in his voice felt different.
No pity.
No pressure.
Just curiosity.
She exhaled slowly.
“There’s this guy.” Mike stayed quiet.
“Sam,” she continued softly.
“My ex.” Her hands clenched.
“We were together forever.
At least it felt like forever.” Her voice wavered slightly.
“And then one day he just…
stopped looking at me.” She swallowed.
“And started looking at my cousin.” Mike didn’t interrupt.
“Emily.” Leah laughed bitterly.
“She’s sweet.
Always has been.
The kind of person who doesn’t mean to hurt anyone.” She kicked a small rock off the path.
“But she did.” Silence stretched for a few moments.
“And now my mom wants me to visit her because she got mauled by a bear.” Mike nearly choked.
“A bear?” Leah looked at him.
“You know, somehow that wasn’t the reaction I expected.” Mike cleared his throat immediately.
“No, sorry.
Continue.” Leah stared at him for another second before shaking her head.
Idiot.
But somehow not an annoying idiot.
When she finished, Mike was quiet for a while.
Then he nodded.
“That’s…
a lot.” Leah looked away.
“You don’t even know me.” “Maybe not,” he admitted.
“But I know what it’s like when people expect you to just move on because enough time passed.” His voice softened.
“Like healing’s supposed to happen on a schedule.” Leah looked at him.
“Yeah,” she said quietly.
Mike smiled faintly.
“Then maybe you should do it on yours.” Leah looked at him for a long moment.
Then suddenly realized she was staring.
Blue eyes.
Messy hair.
Stupid warm smile.
Her heartbeat skipped.
Great.
Just great.
Now she was checking out the pale face.
Mike raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Leah blinked rapidly and looked away.
“Nothing.” A faint blush crept up her neck.
Then she blurted out: “So your birthday was July, right?” Mike immediately grinned.
“July twenty-seventh.” He puffed his chest out dramatically.
“Leo.
And I basically look like a lion, so it fits, right?” He struck a regal pose.
Leah stared at him for a long moment, then snorted.
“A lion?” Mike nodded proudly.
“Absolutely.” Leah looked him up and down.
“You look more like a golden retriever.” Mike froze.
“A golden retriever?” “Yeah,” she said, smirking now.
“All sunshine and excitement and way too eager to please.” Mike pressed a hand dramatically over his chest.
“Wow.” He shook his head.
“I was aiming for majestic and mysterious, but I guess loyal and adorable works too.” Leah rolled her eyes.
“Keep talking and I might start believing the horoscope thing.” Mike grinned.
“See?
My charm is cosmic.” Leah shook her head.
“You really are an idiot.” “Yeah,” Mike said immediately.
Then he smiled from ear to ear.
“You know…
you didn’t call me pale face this time.” Leah blinked.
Then blinked again.
Oh no.
Mike’s grin somehow widened.
“I’ll call that a win.” Leah narrowed her eyes and looked away quickly.
“Don’t get cocky, doggy.” Mike gasped dramatically.
“Doggy?
Wow.
I finally evolve beyond pale face and somehow end up worse?” Leah rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips stayed there.
And as they kept walking beneath the trees, neither of them really noticed when walking side by side had started feeling natural.