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Chapter 7

           well,sinceThursdayafternoon,ifIwasbeinghonest.

           Thathadalwaysbeenmyway,though.Makingdecisionswasthepainfulpartforme,thepartIagonizedover.Butoncethedecisionwasmade,Isimplyfollowedthrough-usuallywithreliefthatthechoicewasmade.Sometimesthereliefwastaintedbydespair,likemydecisiontocometoForks.Butitwasstillbetterthanwrestlingwiththealternatives.

           Thisdecisionwasridiculouslyeasytolivewith.Dangerouslyeasy.

           Andsothedaywasquiet,productive-Ifinishedmypaperbeforeeight.Charliecamehomewithalargecatch,andImadeamentalnotetopickupabookofrecipesforfishwhileIwasinSeattlenextweek.ThechillsthatflashedupmyspinewheneverIthoughtofthattripwerenodifferentthantheonesI’dfeltbeforeI’dtakenmywalkwithJacobBlack.Theyshouldbedifferent,Ithought.Ishouldbeafraid-IknewIshouldbe,butIcouldn’tfeeltherightkindoffear.

           Isleptdreamlesslythatnight,exhaustedfrombeginningmydaysoearly,andsleepingsopoorlythenightbefore.Iwoke,forthesecondtimesincearrivinginForks,tothebrightyellowlightofasunnyday.Iskippedtothewindow,stunnedtoseethattherewashardlyacloudinthesky,andthosetherewerejustfleecylittlewhitepuffsthatcouldn’tpossiblybecarryinganyrain.Iopenedthewindow-surprisedwhenitopenedsilently,withoutsticking,nothavingopeneditinwhoknowshowmanyyears-andsuckedintherelativelydryair.Itwasnearlywarmandhardlywindyatall.

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