Somnambulism (Jared Cameron)

//four//

     I groaned as I rolled over in bed, letting out a lion-like yawn. I was not one of those girls who woke up looking all cuddly and cute in the morning, rather my hair always seemed to turn into a haystack of messiness, and my cheeks always seemed to be flushed.

I rub my eyes and blink into focus, surveying my room. It looks all clear, nothing moved around, no lights turned off, my door still locked. I crawl out of bed and turn off the motion detector by my bedroom door, seemed like a quiet night in terms of my little problem. I mean gift, according to my father.

I looked at the clock, 3 pm. That meant I had about four hours until I had to be at the hospital for my next shift, perfect. I take my time getting ready, enjoying a long hot shower before pulling my dark locks up out of my face. Drying my freshly washed face, I pout my full lips at sight of the freckles flickered through my tanned skin on my nose and cheekbones, I swear I was the only Native who was stuck with freckles in the summer, how annoying.

My dad told me that my mother had had freckles too, she passed away so long ago, I found myself struggling to remember if I could recall a time they were prominent to me. I pull on a sweater and make my way to the kitchen, salivating just at the sight of the coffee pot on the counter as I flip on the lights in the darkening twilight of the kitchen.

"Too bright," a voice mumbles, and I turned around to see Jake rubbing his eyes on the couch.

"Um, sleeping beauty!" I stomp over to my brother's stirring figure- his 6 foot three frame way too large for our poor couch. This boy's growth spurt was something unnatural, and made me look ridiculous at just 5 foot 3. I always liked my height, it allowed me to wear heels on every date without worrying about towering over my date, which was nice. Perfect height to bat my eyelashes a few times and break a few hearts.

"Do you have to be so loud?" Jacob yawns and finally focuses on me.

"Have you been sleeping this whole time?" I practically shriek, already knowing the answer. despite his silence "Cmon Jake, you were supposed to be watching me!"

I hate having to bother him about a service he was doing for me, there was nothing worse in my book than being a choosing beggar. But, my family and I had unspoken agreement that we all had made. My father, stuck in his wheelchair, required Jake for yard work and all kinds of heavy lifting. I kept up with food, dinners, laundry, my dad's medical care; anything these two boys needed, I took care of. In return, my dad and Jacob watched over me while I slept.

"Relax," He rolls his eyes and makes his way over to the kitchen, pouring two large mugs of coffee, "I was listening,"

"How can you be listening when you're snoring?" I grab the steaming mug from his hand and cross my arm over my hips, "Jake-"

"Trust me, you're fine," He exasperates, taking a long sip.

"You know this is really important to me." I say quietly, my brother was playing off something that terrified me. Granted, I hadn't slept walk out of my bedroom in a few months, but the fear that I would wake up disoriented and confused and lost never went away. I have a momentary flashback of the time I was fifteen years old, agitated from my first ever break up in junior high, I had sleepwalked all the way to the end of the driveway; only to be woken up by the flash of car lights. All of sleepwalking memories terrified me.

"I was here, wasn't I? You want me to just stare at you?" Jacob is crabby, having just woken up. Why this kid always looked like a dead man walking beats me, it's not like he had a job outside of school, and it was summer break for Goodness sake.

"You were sleeping!" I exclaim, gesturing the couch where his indent still stood, and noticed a ripped shirt now lying in it's place. "And you ripped another shirt," I complain, picking up the offending piece, "Guess I'll add it to the shopping list," I mumble quietly, not wanting to escalate the argument further. No one got under my skin quite like my little brother.

"Sorry, mom." Jacob sarcastically scoffs, "Are you going to ground me now for not babysitting to your liking?"

"You're an asshole," I shoot back, and throw the ripped shirt at him, before turning the corner and retreating back into my room to get ready for work.

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"Since when are you on night shift?" I yawned as I slammed Sam's wooden door shut behind me. It was 8 pm, and a long shift of patrol was behind me. I was ready to eat my body weight in whatever delicious aroma was coming from Sam and Emily's kitchen, and sleep for as long as I could before I had to be at work at the local auto-shop.

Jacob doesn't say anything but just stares at me from where he is practically drooling at Sam's dining room table, dark bags under his eyes and an annoyed gleam in his eye. Okay, note to self: don't talk to Jake when he's sleep deprived.

"Jacob, if you're going to hang here before patrol, you have to be pleasant!" Emily calls out from the kitchen, I crane my head and can barely see her familiar figure with her nose in the fridge, pulling something out.

"Don't mind Jake," Paul takes a seat at the dinning room table next to the brooding boy. Paul had shifted right after me, making us some of the original shifters. We were also older than most of the pack, the two of us out of high school by a few years. He was the closest thing I had to a brother. "Bella stop calling you every two minutes? Is that it?"

I chuckle, "Someone missing out on the attention?"

"Shut up," Jacob grumbles, "When was the last time either of got lucky?"

"Touche." I shrug lazily, and Paul scoffs with offense, "Speak for yourself, Cameron." It was no secret that Paul and I viewed relationships very differently. I had too much going on to even entertain the idea of trying to find casual fun on the Reservation. Plus trust me; the girls in LaPush were not casual girls.

Most people in La Push have known each other since they were born, their parents and grandparents stemming past that. Most of the girls our age here were looking for a way out of the reservation, or to get married. Just look at the clingy texts Paul got daily from girls he had 'unintentionally' lead on.

"Quality, not quantity." I taunt back, checking my phone for any missed notifications while I was phased.

"Don't mind sourpuss here," Emily saunters into the dining room with a large plate of garlic bread, all of us reaching for a piece before the plates even set on the table, "He's fighting with his sister,"

"What'd you do to Grace?" Quil, who I thought was dozing off in the living room connected to the dinning room, suddenly perked up at Emily's words. I hadn't seen Grace in years, since we were kids at La Push parades and school carnivals. Last time I saw her was probably high school graduation, though I knew she came home every weekend because Jake would make us patrol closer to his cottage.

"None of your business."

"I'll stop by and check on her," Quil volunteers nobly, and I roll my eyes. Everyone knew he thought that Jacob's older sister was hot, a thought he had troubles keeping private while we were shifted, causing Jacob to pounce on his friend more than once.

"Stay away from my sister, idiot." Jacob growls venomously towards Quil, shutting him up, and the rest of us snigger.

"You really gotta figure out your Bella business and stop being a crabass," Quil pouts quietly in the corner.

"There's nothing to figure out." Paul's joking turn takes a tense turning, transforming the vibe in the small room. "She's not your imprint, she's not with us, she's cut off. Simple as that. Right, Black?" Paul looks down at Jacob almost menacingly, just daring him to disagree.

"We'll see." Jake mutters.