Heartbreaker

F O R T Y T W O

"You're not the first monsters I've met."

I hold in an eye roll as Bella holds onto the muffin that Emily offered her. Of course, they're not the first monsters, how could we ever forget about Edward? And of course, she would phrase it like that.

"I wouldn't use that term," I say, glancing over at Embry and Jared. "Monster is a bit, extreme don't you think?"

"What would you prefer?" Bella asks, a hint of an attitude laced in her voice.

"You're asking the wrong person," I tell her, "But maybe I'm just being picky."

I don't think anyone would really want to be called a monster. Even though sure, maybe in some people's eyes they are. But there's definitely a more, polite, way to say that.

"I assume your leech likes the term monster, but we call each other shapeshifters," Jared explains, the subtle dig at Edward made her stiffen. "How are the Cullen's?"

"They're not here."

But Jared knew that. We all did. He just wanted to be an asshole about it I'm sure.

"Right," He says, playing dumb.

The screen door swings open, Sam, whose head was almost to the ceiling walks in first. He looks at Bella, then his eyes immediately search the room for his imprint.

"Jake's right, you're okay with weird," He says, chuckling and then walking over to Emily. "Hi."

"Hi yourself," She greets, just as she starts to giggle from the amount of kisses he places all over her face.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see two boys walking in. Smiles on both of their faces, Paul gave Jake one last push before he walks into the house. So I guess they made up. He looks at me first, before sitting down next to me at the circular table.

He smirks at Bella, "Sorry."

I couldn't help but let the corners of my lips tug up. Not fully, but just enough to show his half assed apology was forced. Everyone at the table knew that Paul doesn't apologize normally. At least to people he doesn't care about.

From across the table, I notice Jared pulling a five dollar bill out of his pocket. He hands it to Embry while shaking his head at him. Which meant that he won the bet they had.

My eyes flick to Paul's arm, eyes running over every inch to make sure he wasn't her. And when I look closer, I notice the faintest pink mark there. At some point I'm sure it was worse. But now it didn't seem too bad.

After he grabs a muffin, he grabs the back of my chair and pulls me closer. The chair squeaks against the floor, and when I was close enough to his satisfaction. He puts an arm around my back.

"On a scale of one to ten," He asks in my ear, his scent spiraling through my nose. "How mad are you?"

"Like, a seven," I tell him with warning eyes, "We need to talk."

"I know," He says, starting to stand from his spot. "Come on."

As we approach the door, he allows me to walk out first while he finishes the rest of the muffin. I decide on the spot where they have most of their fires. Taking a seat that was a safe enough distance where no one would listen.

"I'm not that mad, it wasn't your fault technically," I say, "I was kind of pissed though."

"I know," He says, "I thought about it as soon as Jake came outside. I didn't want to fight in front of you."