Yeah, so I pretty much just hate men. That's basically all there is to it. All of them. Even you.

Oh. Wait. He can't hear me right now. So thinking at him isn't working. Spend too much time in wolf form and you forget that in human form, your brothers can't hear you. Brothers. Huh.

Jacob is melted into the chair across from me. Between the two of us, this aisle is blocked. Our legs are too long. It doesn't help that most of his body is drooped as low in the chair as possible. He's staring at the ceiling. Bored out of his mind, or else dreaming of his ladylove. Who happens to be three. And it's not like I even asked him to come with me today. At least he's being quiet and not calling me "short stuff'—clearly just rubbing salt in my wounds.

The perky salesgirl has returned. She bounces over to us, arms loaded with the boxes I asked for. "We have your size!" she exclaims when she's about five feet from me. She says it like it's a miracle, like she's performed a miracle in the backroom to make these shoes appear in my size.

She's taking them out of the box and showing them to me. Now she's putting them on my feet. She keeps cocking her head and looking at me and then at Jake. "Are you guys brother and sister? Do you play basketball?"

"No, and no." I say. I try to say it happily, to smile as I speak so my voice sounds pleasant. I am actually pleased about the shoes. Anyway, the shoe girl is female, so my especial hatred isn't directed toward her anyway.

"Ooooh but you're both so tall! I'm sooo jealous!" she giggles, latching the last buckle into place.

God I hate her. First of all, her stupid oooh-ing and ahhhh-ing reminds me of Bella, whom I cannot stand, the dumb skank, and secondly, this girl is all of about 5'2. Making her nearly a foot shorter than I am. I really, actually, truly cannot stand short girls. I try to tell myself that its not their fault, that they did not ask to be "cute" any more than I asked to be tall. No, the reason that I hate short girls is that they all parade around with their tall boyfriends, guys my height, or even a little taller. And I hate them because they are feminine and "adorable" and pint-size and can be picked up and carried around and they giggle and… God.

But I take a deep breath and focus on the shoes. They are beautiful. A deep purple, strappy, with very, very high heels. I stand, admiring my feet.

"What do you think, Jake?" I ask, not really caring what he says.

He opens his eyes slowly and regards me slowly. He blinks. "I think you're confused." He pauses, relaxed, affecting an "I can really take as long as I want to speak" sort of persona. "You spent half the ride over here bitching about how tall you are, and now you're buying four inch heels. Explain the logic of that to me."

I roll my eyes. Men can be so dense. "My problem, Jacob, is that guys, for the most part, are too short. Not that I am too tall."

"O…kay," he says, clearly being a dumbass just to annoy me. "And now you are going to tower even more over them, so why don't you just get some shoes that don't add to your height and let's please get out of here?"

"It's not about that." I am really angry right now, and I don't exactly know why. I'd say it was PMS, but oh yeah, don't have that problem anymore, either. "High heels are feminine and sexy and maybe I want to have something in my life that is feminine! Maybe I want my legs to look good! Maybe I just want to be a freaking girl for once!" It comes out a lot louder than I intended. And sharper, but since I am always sharp with my words, he probably won't have noticed.

Now the bastard is moving his lips around, like he's trying to pick food out of his teeth with his tongue. Clearly, as always, just trying to piss me off. He stands. Even with the shoes he's still taller than I am. He smiles and says, "Let's go, then, if you've finally made up your mind." He even grabs my other bags from the pile next to our chairs.

The sales girl has put my old shoes, the worn-out sneakers I came in, into the box. I'm wearing my new purple pumps out. Because, dammit, if I want to wear high heels, I will. Because I'm a girl. And because if I spend my entire life in ballet flats and sneakers, well, that's like admitting that I'm too tall. And I'm not. 6 foot is a perfectly respectable height for a female werewolf. Not that there are any others for me to compare myself too, but women tend to be shorter than men, and I am shorter than all the male werewolves. I am the smallest werewolf. And anyway, there are girls my height or even taller, so its not like I am a complete freak of nature.

Actually, yes I am.

I'm not even really a woman anymore, am I? Well, am I?

I hand my gift card over to the salesgirl. She swipes it and informs me that I still have 14.07 left. She smiles perkily. As if there were anything for sale in Nordstrom for 14.07.

We're in the car now. My purchases, save the shoes, are all in the trunk. Jacob is driving way too quickly, but its fun. I guess driving a Ferrari slowly would sort of defeat the purpose. And let's face it—it's a nice car. It'd be nicer if the interior didn't reek of Leech, but the smell doesn't bother me quite as much as it used to. Not that I will ever tell anyone. I'm so used to it wafting on my baby brother, Captain Leech Lover himself, and Jacob, of course, who spends nearly every waking second with their Spawn. Except today, when Mr. and Mrs. "We're, Like, So In Love" wanted to have some time with their daughter, leaving Jacob free. And to keep him from moping, they lent him the Ferrari. And so here we are.

Which doesn't really explain why I was in Nordstrom of all places, spending the gift card. The one that had been tossed in the chest of drawers in my old room at my mother's house. The one I swore I'd never use. I don't accept gifts from Leeches. The short one, Alice, had given it to me more than a year ago. The first time they gave me clothes, I floated them down the river. Couldn't stand the smell. I wonder if Alice (I have to keep reminding myself to use their names) knew, what with her freaky-ass abilities and all that. Then one day she gave me the gift card, so I could "pick out some new clothes for myself." At Nordstrom. For an obscene amount of money. Actually, not obscene to the Cullens, probably pocket change to them, really, but to me, it was a lot. Way, way too much to spend on clothes. And anyway, nice, Nordstrom-type clothes aren't really my thing right now, what with phasing to wolf every five minutes. I really hope the boys realize how lucky they for being able to run around it just cut-offs. Try being a woman in her early twenties managing that. It's not that girls can't wear skimpy clothes, oh no, but the whole bra-and-panties thing is really, really awkward. Another reason I hate men.

So why the hell would I want to get clothes from Nordstrom? So I could shred them the second I phased? I left the card in my drawer, buried right next to the necklace he had given me our senior year of high school. And then I had left for some Happy Fun Wolf Time in Canada.

I'd needed some time, and I had had it. Loosing myself in wolf form wasn't as complete as I had hoped. The whole "eating raw meat" thing was a serious drag. At meal times I always remembered I was human. So I had come back. Check in on Seth and mom, you know….. Make sure Jacob hadn't done anything really ungodly stupid without his Second around to look after him. That sort of thing.

Jacob really didn't say much when I came back. Seth had heard me when I got close enough, and had phased back to human and told our mom that "Guess what? Leah's back!" or something equally exuberant. The boy has an endless supply of enthusiasm.

I found the gift card the other day. And I decided that, yeah, I'd like some clothes that make me look like an actual woman. An actual woman like I used to be, back before I phased the first time.

Part of me was actually glad Jacob had volunteered to drive me. I did sort of like riding in the Ferrari. Almost as much as he liked driving it. Anything to take his mind off his 3 year old girlfriend.

I'm not going to lie, Renesmee freaks me out. Her growth is slowly decelerating, so she only looks 8 now. In four years, she'll reach her maturity. Meaning she will be a fully functioning adult female. Kind of not like me. I'd laugh but then Jacob would hear me laughing to myself and would ask me why and I'd have to tell him and he'd get pissy that I was laughing about his sweetheart. Not that he thinks of her that way. Nessie's not old enough to be in love, so Jacob's really not in love with her. It's as if in that way, he's 8 years old, too. Well, at least his lady will be mature in four years. Quil's darlin' is only 5, and since she's an actual human (remember those?) she's got quite a ways to go before she's mature.

Still, considering who her parents are, Renesmee's actually pretty decent. Not that I've somehow become "pro-imprinting" or anything. God, no. I think some of them thought that once I was "in on it," once I knew what Sam was and why he'd left me for my beautiful cousin, that I'd somehow forgive him. Aha. I was hearing his thoughts, for crying out loud. Between Sam's thoughts playing through my brain and the knowledge that mine and my brother's transformation very likely caused the heart attack that killed our father, my life was not looking too good.

And my pack brothers wonder why I'm such a bitch.

I sigh loudly and sink down further into the seat. Jake smiles next to me, shifting to a lower gear and clearly thinking about Renesmee.

"You'll see her soon," I tell him. Trying to be sociable. It's something I have to work on.

"Actually, Tiny, I wasn't thinking about Nessie. I was thinking about you, and how you're back."

I roll my eyes. Suuuuuure he was, if by "how you're back" what he means is "how I will see Nessie the Vampire Spawn tonight. And play Candy Land with her." They could make it a double-date with Quil and Claire. Claire. Could this pack get any more incestual? Claire is Emily's niece. Emily is my cousin.

My cousin. That bastard, he imprinted on my cousin. And now I hate her, and no one wants to hate their cousin. No one wants to look at a family member and be secretly, in a very, very small part of herself, kind of glad that their perfect, beautiful cousin had half her body shredded.

Yeah, Sam really loved hearing those thoughts.

Jacob drops me at my house. My mother's house, actually. He's going to return the Ferrari to the Casa de Leeches and see if Spawn is back from her day with her Useless Parents. Yes, that's a proper noun now. Seth bounds out of the house, eager to talk to Jacob, and willing to carry in my packages. He's a senior in high school now, but he still looks like a dorky kid to me. I guess our little brothers always do. We head into the house.

Author's Note: More to come! Leah still has to start dealing with the evolving relationships between the huge cast of characters that Stephanie Meyer has given us. Will she become less bitter? Will she find love, or even friendship? Will she start dealing with all those things she's kept buried? I suppose we will have to find out.