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the Fearless

Summary:
banner by bestlies@TDC Photobucket Jaclyn Uley is afraid of nothing. How can you be when you've been surrounded by overprotective werewolves your whole life? The same is true when confronted with a red-eyed vampire. Reynard is intrigued. Intrigued and persistent. Why shouldn't he be? He has all the time in the world. Literally.


Notes:


1. My name.

Rating 0/5   Word Count 817   Review this Chapter

My name is Jaclyn Michelle Uley. Originally when my parents thought I was going to be a little boy, the plan was that I was going to be called Jack Michael Uley, Michael after my mothers grandfather, and Jack because my mother loved that name, and my father would murder and steal to make her smile. At least, that's what they tell me. That was before my mother died after giving birth to me. Obviously boy, but a girl. And then of course, Emily's name didn't fit me. So my dad picked girly versions of the boy names she had loved. Not that it helps, because everyone calls me Jack. Dad has called me that ever since I was born. Probably because it was the name mum wanted.

It obviously doesn't help being raised in a house full of boys. And I mean literally, full. As in despite there being three bathrooms, there is always someone in them (why don't they just go outside?!) And there is always some or other boy with his head stuck in the fridge (its a wonder any of our groceries stay chilled with the amount of time the door is open) the couch in the living room is always occupied by 3-4 boys, I can barely walk through a doorway without there being a damn boy blocking the way!

Perhaps, you might be thinking, little Jack is exaggerating just tad. After all, she only has two brothers. I'm not. My parents have a small house on the La Push reservation, and in a near-constant stream there are always about twenty boys coming in and out. And Leah, but she pretty much counts as a boy, just like me. Except that she got to have a girls name. Unlike me. But she counts as a boy because she is one of the werewolves. Also unlike me.

I get the joy of being the whimpy little girl who sits at home with all the imprints, worrying and waiting for the big bad boys to come home. Joy. Not.

Now you're probably thinking, if your father is off hunting vampires and keeping teenage werewolves in check, who raised this sarcastic young lady? Except I'm not a lady, and it would seem only biology stops me from being a boy. Leah taught me this wonderful sarcasm. But mainly it was Quill and Jacob that raised me. They had experience with having little girls as their imprints (obviously not quite as weird as it sounds... actually maybe it is, but not as wrong as it sounds).

If it hadn't been for Quill my hair would never have met a ribbon. In fact, dad would probably have given me a boys haircut. 'Easier to maintain' he has argued on many occasions, and only Quil's insistence that there must be some parts of girliness in me that they can protect which has saved my long hair. If it weren’t for Jacob I would have freaked out when I got my period at age fourteen. As it is, I did freak out, and so did my dad, and it was poor Jacob who had to sort me out. I will be in debt to him forever. At least that's what he tells me.

The point is that bringing up me was a group effort. My dad had no clue at all with children, and so when I bumb into Embry with his head in the fridge, I know that he changed my nappies, when I whine about Seth blocking the bathroom again, I know he was the one who took care of me when I had chicken pox when I was four, when Jared is blocking the hall so I can't get past, I know that he was the one who tutored me so I didn't fail maths, and when Paul is taking up the whole couch all by himself I know... I know he is damned lazy, but he was also the one who made sure, together with his wife Rachel, that I had the books I needed when I started first grade, and he was the one who threatened to punch Larry Biers in the face if he ever shoved me in the playground again.

By the way, Larry Biers hasn't dared touch me in any way or fashion since I was six years old. He doesn't even dare look at me. I love Paul.

The point is that I love all of them. Even if my house is full of boys all the time, and I'm pretty much treated like a boy myself, and I'm the only one in my house who isn't a werewolf, I loved them to death, and I know they'll always be there for me.

And which is also why when I met a red-eyed vampire for the first time, I wasn't afraid.

“If you touch me, you will be destroyed.”