Leah knows. I swear she does. She knows that there's something going on, and she's afraid to ask. In fact, I'm afraid to ask myself. I wish I could tell her everything, all the werewolf stuff, all the Imprint stuff, all the Emily stuff. There are a million reasons why I can't. I'm just wishing.

I blew off Leah for Emily last night. Leah and I had planned for over a week to go out to Port Angeles for a nice dinner. An hour before I was supposed to pick her up, Emily called and asked if I wanted to go to a party with her on First Beach. I agreed immediately, and then called Leah and told her I was sick. She acted like she believed me, but I really don't think she did. She'd seen me that morning, and I was feeling fine.

So I went to the beach party with Emily. And I had more fun with her than I'd ever had with Leah. I remember trying to force myself to feel sick, to wish I was with Leah. I couldn't. The only remorse I felt at all was that the night had to end.

Emily kissed me. I didn't try to end it.

This morning, Leah came over with chicken noodle soup, saying she wanted me to feel better. She'd either believed my fake sickness or was using false belief to see what was going on with me. Yes, I'd lied to her.

But it was true that I was sick.