Saturday, February 26, 2005, 10:00 AM (Mike) By the time I jogged back into our driveway, the sun was still low in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard.
The morning air had that sharp, clean bite that woke you up whether you wanted it to or not.
My brain, meanwhile, was occupied with the same question it had been obsessing over for weeks.
When the hell am I finally going to shift?
It had been a full month since this whole transformation nonsense started.
A month of getting stronger, faster, hungrier, and generally more ridiculous by the day.
And yet?
Not a single hint of fur in sight.
No paws.
No wolf transformation whatsoever.
At this point, I was beginning to wonder if I was some kind of defective shapeshifter.
Like a late-blooming anime protagonist, except instead of unlocking some cool power-up, I was just becoming freakishly tall.
My morning runs had gotten completely absurd.
A month ago, thirty minutes of jogging would’ve left me feeling accomplished.
Now?
Three hours.
No breaks.
Full speed.
And apparently full speed meant eighty miles per hour.
Eighty.
Fucking.
Miles.
Per.
Hour.
Which was insane.
And also raised another deeply concerning question.
If I’m running eighty miles per hour, just how fast are vampires?
Please let the answer not be “Mach 2.” I’d mapped out a route through the woods over the last few weeks, partly for exercise and partly so I wouldn’t get lost and end up featured on a missing-persons poster.
The trail looped surprisingly close to the Cullens’ place.
The first time I’d seen their house through the trees, I’d literally stopped mid-run.
It didn’t even look real.
It looked like something straight out of an expensive architecture magazine.
One of those glossy spreads titled Modern Homes You’ll Never Be Able to Afford.
Even now, whenever I passed by, I slowed down just a little.
Not because I was stalking anyone.
Just appreciating architecture.
Totally normal behavior.
Back home, I kicked off my shoes and instantly regretted it.
The smell made me gag.
“Oh, come on.” Right.
The poop.
Somewhere along the trail, a wild animal had left behind a steaming surprise, and lucky me had managed to step directly into it.
Superhuman reflexes: 10/10.
Superhuman awareness: 0/10.
So yeah.
Shower time.
Even though I barely sweat anymore, the forest smell clung to me like glue.
Wet earth.
Pine needles.
Moss.
The distinct aroma of someone who spent half their life sprinting through the wilderness.
Wolf-boy cologne.
Add the poop situation on top of that, and the shower became non-negotiable.
Though I might have to burn the shoes… Twenty minutes later, after scrubbing myself until I smelled like something legally allowed inside human civilization, I stepped out of the bathroom and grabbed the measuring tape I now kept permanently beside my bed.
Not because I was obsessed.
Okay, maybe a little.
But every morning felt like a new episode of How Tall Is Mike Today?
I stood straight against the wall, measured carefully, then looked at the number, and groaned.
“Seriously?” Six foot eight.
Another half inch in four days.
Everyone at school had been staring at me lately like I’d been exposed to gamma radiation.
Even my parents had no idea what to do anymore.
A few days ago, Mom had become convinced I was suffering from some horrifying hormone disorder and tried to schedule a doctor’s appointment.
It had taken me an hour, three cups of coffee, and a very desperate speech to convince her not to drag me in for a full-body mutant scan.
I tossed the measuring tape onto my bed and ran a hand through my damp hair.
“At this rate,” I muttered, “I’m gonna need custom doorframes.” …
After getting dressed, I flopped onto my bed and grabbed my phone.
My thumb hovered over the keypad for a moment before I finally started typing.
[Mike]: Hey, just making sure you’re still up for the movie later and haven’t decided I’m too much of an idiot to be seen with in public.
I hit send before I could overthink it.
With that particular existential crisis handled, I headed downstairs.
Dad was already at the store, and Mom sat alone at the kitchen table with a steaming mug of coffee, half-watching something on TV.
“Morning,” I said.
Then I proceeded to grab enough food to feed a small village.
A towering stack of toast, half a dozen eggs, and the largest cereal bowl we owned.
Mom watched the operation with growing concern.
“You know,” she said slowly, “at this rate you’re going to have to start working.” I glanced up.
“Soon we won’t be able to afford feeding you.” I shoved half a slice of toast into my mouth.
“Mmf, I can’t help it,” I protested.
Crumbs immediately exploded everywhere.
Mom laughed.
“Either that, or you’ll have to start hunting your meals in the woods.” …
Which was uncomfortably close to the truth.
I was halfway through demolishing my cereal when my phone buzzed.
I glanced down, and immediately felt a stupid grin spread across my face.
[Leah]: Yeah, doofus.
Remember to pick me up at 6.
And try not to say anything stupid in front of my parents.
My smile froze, melted, and then reformed into pure panic.
Parents.
Right.
She had those as well.
Actual adult human beings I would need to interact with.
Using my mouth.
Which historically had a success rate of roughly forty percent, and twenty percent or less under pressure.
Mom watched the entire emotional disaster unfold across my face like she had front-row seats to a theater performance.
When I finally lowered my phone, she took a sip of coffee.
“Okay,” she said casually.
I knew that tone.
“What was that?” I cleared my throat.
“Uh…” I looked away.
“I’ve got a date.” Mom’s eyebrows practically launched off her forehead.
“A date?
Really?” Then her face brightened.
“Did you finally ask Jessica out?” I blinked in surprise.
“Jessica?” Mom nodded.
“Mike, that girl has been staring at you like a lost puppy for years.” And suddenly, thanks to the past life memories I’d mostly stopped paying attention to, everything clicked.
Oh.
Oh yeah.
Jessica did have a crush on me.
In my defense, I’d been slightly distracted lately.
Things like growing almost a foot in a month.
Becoming a supernatural track star.
And trying not to explode into a giant wolf in the middle of the school cafeteria.
You know, minor concerns.
I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Uh, no.
It’s not Jessica.” “Oh?” Mom leaned forward immediately.
“Then who is it?” “A girl from the rez.” I tried not to sound proud, but failed spectacularly.
“Her name’s Leah.” Mom’s expression softened instantly.
The warm, happy kind of smile only moms seemed capable of producing.
“Well,” she said, “you’ll have to bring her by soon so I can meet her.” I felt my face heating up.
“Yeah.
Maybe.
Eventually.
Assuming I don’t embarrass myself into early retirement first.” Mom chuckled and stood.
Then she reached over and ruffled my hair like I wasn’t six-foot-eight.
“You’ll definitely embarrass yourself.” I groaned.
“But don’t worry,” she continued.
“Your father used to do it all the time too.” “That’s not helping.” “And yet I still married him.” I buried my face in my hands.
“Thanks, Mom.
That’s extremely comforting.” “It should be.” She leaned down and kissed the top of my head.
Fortunately, I was sitting.
Otherwise she’d have needed a ladder.
“Now finish your breakfast, Romeo.” She headed toward the sink.
“You’ll need the energy.” …
(Third Person POV) The knock on the Clearwater front door echoed through the house.
“Seth, get that,” Sue called from the kitchen.
“Why me?” Seth complained from the couch.
“Why can’t Leah do it?” “Because your sister is upstairs.” Sue didn’t even look up from what she was doing.
“And you’re closer.” On the opposite end of the couch, Harry Clearwater chuckled and turned up the television volume.
Seth groaned dramatically before dragging himself toward the front door with all the enthusiasm of a kid being assigned chores.
He yanked it open and stopped in place.
Slowly, his head tilted upward.
Higher.
Higher.
And then a little higher.
Standing on the porch was the palest guy Seth had ever seen.
Not pale.
PALE.
Blonde hair.
Blue eyes.
Ridiculously tall.
And wearing a nervous smile that somehow made him look even weirder.
Seth immediately began closing the door.
“Wait!” The giant blurted it so fast the word practically collided with itself.
One hand shot out and caught the edge of the door.
“I’m here for Leah.
You’re Seth, right?
Me and your sister are going to the movies.” Seth stared at him suspiciously.
Who in their right mind wanted to date his sister?
Violent, temperamental, punches-first-asks-questions-later Leah?
He turned toward the living room.
“Dad!” Harry looked up.
“Some weird guy says he’s taking Leah on a date!” Harry’s head snapped around so quickly the couch squeaked.
His eyes locked onto the boy standing outside.
The pale face.
The absurd height.
The nervous smile.
And his jaw slowly tightened.
No.
Absolutely not.
No daughter of his was dating somebody who looked like this.
If Leah was going to date anyone, it should be a nice Quileute boy.
A normal one.
Not some towering, goofy-looking outsider.
Billy would laugh himself breathless if he ever found out about this.
Harry rose from the couch and marched toward the door.
“Move, Seth.
I’ll handle this.” Seth immediately stepped aside, but made sure to stay close enough to watch the train wreck.
Harry planted himself in the doorway like an especially determined bouncer.
“And who are you, boy?” The teenager straightened immediately.
“Mike Newton, sir.” His voice cracked slightly.
Wonderful start.
“I’m…
I’m a friend of Leah’s.
We’re going to the movies.
Could you tell her I’m here, please?” Harry frowned.
He knew the Newtons.
Everybody in Forks knew the Newtons.
But he definitely didn’t remember their son looking like he’d escaped from the NBA.
Not that it mattered, he wasn’t letting this happen.
“Well,” Harry said stiffly, “Leah didn’t ask for permission.” Mike blinked.
“And I’m not letting her go out this late.” Mike looked at him first, then looked at his watch, and then looked back.
“…Sir.” “Yes?” “It’s five o’clock.” Harry opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it when nothing came to mind.
Then he frowned harder.
From the kitchen doorway, Sue had been watching the entire exchange with growing amusement.
But once Harry started inventing imaginary rules, she decided enough was enough.
“Mike, right?” She walked over and gently grabbed Harry’s arm.
“Why don’t you come inside?
Leah’s still getting ready.” Mike looked startled for a second.
Then he was visibly relieved.
“Thank you.” As Sue guided him into the house.
Harry looked betrayed.
Seth looked fascinated.
And Mike looked like he’d just survived a natural disaster.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Sue asked.
She opened the refrigerator.
“Oh, no thank you,” Mike said politely.
Sue handed him a soda anyway.
“Hey!” Seth pointed accusingly.
“That’s my soda.” Mike immediately turned and held it out.
“Oh.
Sorry.
Here.” Seth froze, his ears turning red.
“No, no.
You can have it.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“It’s fine.
There’s more.” Sue hid a smile, while Harry returned to sulking on the couch.
A moment later, footsteps sounded from upstairs.
Mike looked up.
And froze.
Leah descended the staircase.
Nothing extravagant.
Just light makeup and a clean, casual outfit.
But it was more effort than he’d ever seen her put into her appearance before.
More than enough to make his brain short-circuit.
He shot to his feet so quickly Seth physically flinched.
“Whoa.” The word escaped before he could stop it.
Leah paused on the last step and Mike swallowed.
“You look…
beautiful.” Seth made a face like he’d just bitten into a lemon.
But Sue’s smile widened immediately.
That was exactly how a boy should look at her daughter.
Like he couldn’t quite believe his luck.
Harry’s scowl deepened, but one pointed look from Sue shut him down before he could say a single word.
And for once, Harry had the good sense to remain silent.