Loca, Spider Monkey

41. Sam Uley - Imprinting

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Stranded smack dab in the middle of nowhere wasn't a good way to end the day, especially since your day hadn't been good in the first place. After doing less than mediocre on a test at school and getting a letter of rejection from your top choice university, all you wanted to do was go home and cry yourself to sleep. It looked like the crying would come a little bit earlier than planned.

Your car's engine sputtered as your vehicle came to an unintentional halt on the edge of a country road on the outskirts of La Push. You smacked your hands on the steering wheel in anger, the car's horn honking back in complaint.

Gritting your teeth, you got out of your car and slammed the door shut. You debated walking along the road until you found a residence — surely someone would be willing to help out. But it was already dark and the woods of La Push scared you. Better not add getting eaten by bears onto the list of things that went wrong that day.

As you rubbed your hands together to keep warm, headlights flashed in your direction. Someone pulled up their car behind yours. You quickly straightened your back.

A boy got out — you recognized him from the reservation. Living so close to the Quileutes, you'd gotten acquainted with most of the people your age over the years. But this boy was different from the rest because you'd had a crush on him for as long as you could remember.

Sam Uley. He was the only thing that always made your days suck slightly less. The only problem was that he was already happily dating a girl named Leah Clearwater, which sort of made you miserable at times, but you contented yourself with knowing that you didn't go to the same school as them and thus didn't have to see them be lovey-dovey in the halls. It hurt less that way.

"(Y/N)," he greeted. "Car trouble?"

You gave his body a look-over and swallowed hard. Since when did he get so big? He'd grown significantly taller and had bulked up — his forearms were the size of your calves. It was like puberty had hit him twice and had done much better the second time around. Granted that you hadn't seen him in a few weeks, you were sure that he'd been much smaller the last time the two of you talked.

Looking down at your feet to hide the ever-present blush in your cheeks, you nodded. "Yeah. Stupid thing just stopped when I was driving. I think something's wrong with the engine."

Sam expertly popped the hood of your car open and started poking around inside. You hoped he knew what he was doing. After a few minutes, he shook his head.

"It's your alternator. It died on you, so your battery didn't charge. Now your battery's dead too."

Great, you thought.

"I can give you a ride home," he offered, "and then come back for your car. I can change the alternator myself if you want. Won't take long — one hour at the most."

"You don't have to do that," you said. "I'll just get it to a mechanic."

"No, come on, it's the least I can do—"

Sam's eyes met yours for the first time since he'd gotten out of the car, and he stopped short in the middle of his sentence like something had knocked the wind out of him. His deep brown irises — the ones you constantly dreamed about at night and saw whenever you closed your own eyes — stared back into yours with a flicker of something you couldn't recognize.

"Sam? You okay?"

He took in such a deep breath that his whole posture changed. His forehead creased, and you swore you'd never seen Sam Uley so... different.