Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in the Twilight Saga, which belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

Chasing Your Smile

Oh, La Push


The rain came pouring down like waterfalls as I stepped out of the car and soaked me from head to toe instantly. What a nice omen, I thought sarcastically. I stomped to the front door—stepping into a few puddles in the process—and rang the bell, waiting for someone to finally get me into the dry and out of the freezing rain. One agonizing minute later the door was pulled open by Carolyn, my foster mother.

"Dear God, what are you doing outside in that kind of weather? Come on in!"

I followed her lead and shut the door behind me, heading towards the newly furnished living room. "Actually, you told me to go and shop groceries," I muttered as I dropped the grocery bag on the couch table. The water dripped off of my hair and clothes and left dark spots on the cream carpet. Oh, well.

"I'll go and dry myself up," I called to no one in particular for Carolyn had already left the room to do whatever foster mothers did in rainy late afternoons. I went upstairs and changed into my old pajamas after I peeled myself out of my soaked everyday-clothes. I hoped it wouldn't take them too long to dry off. I sighed as I looked out of the window, seeing raindrops splashing against it and trees bending under the force of the wind. This is where we moved to; Washington State, known for its wetness and seemingly evergreen woods. I was prepared for this weather—so why did it feel like a bad sign that it was raining on the week of our arrival here? According to the internet there were little dry days and much less sunny ones. Yes, I did my research. My foster dad, William, had gotten some job at the police station of Forks, a nearby town, and my foster mother had insisted on staying at home, taking care of me. Let's just say I did my best on avoiding her. Thursday was my first day at Tribal School, the pathetic excuse of a high school reserved for the tiny amount of citizens that lived on the property of the local Native American tribe, known as the La Push reservation. Speaking of which, I wondered how we even got the permission to live here, not belonging to the tribe and all. Don't ask me what the tribe is called, I have no idea. I would have to ask Carolyn another time … thinking about it, I would much rather not. You see, she and I weren't on best terms. In my point of view, that is. I was her little obsession, her perfect opportunity to get through her midlife crisis and experience teenage life again. I'd go as far and say she was more exited about my first school day than I was.

I had a feeling that I was staying with this couple up until I went to college, even though it seemed unlikely for them to adopt me. Well, Carolyn would have signed the papers right away but I think William suspected me to completely freak out so he, well, chose not to. I guess. It was fine with me, I would graduate soon enough. In two and a half years. Alright, think happy thoughts!

"Honey, dinner's ready! Come down before it gets cold!," my foster mother's voice called from downstairs.

"Coming!," I yelled back and stumbled out of my room, knocking over the last two unopened boxes while doing so. They crashed to the floor with a loud thud and a few contents scattered in my room. I cursed silently but decided to tidy it up later.

"Ah, there you are. I heard a crash from upstairs, is everything okay?," Carolyn asked, using her 'motherly' voice. I simply nodded and made my way towards the kitchen table, where William already sat. I hadn't noticed him coming home. He looked up as I took the seat next to him, smiling at my expressionless face. I returned it politely. Hey, they weren't my real parents after all!

"How was your first day at work, darling?," Carolyn asked her husband as she put the dishes on the table-they looked suspiciously much like lasagna. I had to give that woman some credit; she could cook. She and William chattered on about his job and colleagues while I was too busy with inhaling my lasagna to listen. Pasta of any kind was my absolute weakness.
"… right, Makea?" My head jolted up at the mention of my name.

"Uhm … what was that?" I had the feeling I missed something important. Carolyn rolled her eyes but enlightened me anyway.

"We were talking about wheather or not I should bake a cake for the Calls, you know, to welcome them in our lives." I stared at her dumbfounded.

"Who're the Calls?" She just shook a head in a disappointed way and shot her husband a look that clearly said that he should continue for her. William cleared his throat.

"To be exact, with 'the Calls' we mean Lily Call and her son, they are distant relatives of your … foster mother." I could tell he originally wanted to say 'mom' but decided against it. "They live on the reservation, too."

"So that's the reason we're allowed to stay here?," I asked, putting two and two together and his nod confirmed my theory. "Lily invited us for dinner tomorrow," he added.

There goes my last day of freedom before school starts,I thought sourly. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully and sooner or later I found myself back in my room. We had just moved in here—four days ago, really—but I had made a great afford in making this room at least a bit more personal; I had painted the walls in a light shade of purple and gotten most of the furniture. All that was left were the finishing touches, like posters and photos. Photos. Photos of who? Carolyn and William? The mailman? Seriously, my life was screwed up.

I plopped down on my bed, my head in my hands. Why did I have to be given into care? I wanted answers, I had waited years to get them and now I was sixteen and still hadn't gotten any. All I ever wanted was having a normal family, one that I loved. I grimaced at the image of Carolyn giving me a hug. William was, well, a decent guy but I didn't love him like a daughter should love her father. He was a friend, no parental figure. I groaned and lifted my legs onto the mattress, peering at the ceiling trough my fingers. I needed to stop acting all emotionally unstable but I couldn't help it. How would you feel if you woke up one day finding out you had been send into foster care? In a completely unknown house, surrounded by completely unknown people? And no one would tell you where your parents were and why you were there? I freaked out. I had changed families seven times, the first five in the first years of foster care. Yeah, who would want to keep an emotionally wrecked girl? I had been with the Bridges for about three years now and it seemed pretty final, but they would never replace a family.

The moon shone through my window, illuminating my curled up frame. I clutched the sheets tightly as the last memories of my parents and I together flashed before my eyes. I imagined my mom humming me a lullaby as I slowly drifted into a slumber, her pecking me on the forehead before leaving the room silently. She never said goodbye.

* * *

It wasn't really surprising that the Calls lived just two streets away from our house. I mean, this reservation was so damn small that I wouldn't've been shocked if they lived two houses away. Thinking about it, we might as well have walked over to them but seeing that the weather in Washington did what it was best at—being wet—my foster parents and I squeezed ourselves into William's small car. No, I didn't know which kind of car. Girls were not good with cars, and I was a girl after all. Okay, that was a cliché. Girls could be good with cars, but I was definitely not. Happy? And then there was Carolyn's absolutely ridiculous we-welcome-you-in-our-lives cheesecake, resting on my lap like it owned the place. I sighed, my mind babbling was getting as ridiculous as that stupid cake. I chose to solely look out of the window and concentrate on the stripe-pattern of raindrops that were running down the glass. Somehow, and in an utterly beautiful way, they enchanted the whole scene that was playing outside of the car. Sure, you could only see half of the scenery but I found myself thinking that it wouldn't be the same without the constant noise the rain made, the patterns the drops formed. "It's really beautiful, isn't it?"

I almost choked as I heard Carolyn's voice sound through the car. No, never in a thousand freaking years Carolyn Bridge would see rain and call it beautiful. She seriously wasn't that deep. Not at all, actually. I turned to her, the shock probably evident in my expression. My body visibly relaxed as I saw her looking at a small home with a white picket fence. Ah, thank god. I thought hell was about to freeze over. William turned the car and pulled into the driveway of the house. So, here it comes.

The door was pulled open by a pretty Native American woman, her long black hair pulled back into a bun. She smiled happily at Carolyn and pulled her into a hug. William and I looked at each other, then back at them. Okay, awkward situation.

"Oh Carolyn! It has been ages, hasn't it? And you still look as pretty as you did before!," she said as she released my foster mother. "You're not looking bad yourself, Lily!" They exchanged smiles again before Lily Call looked at William, who was standing by Carolyn's side.

"Oh my, you have to be William! Caro told me so much about you. It's a pleasure." They shook hands, William smiled politely. It was then that she first noticed me, carrying the cheesecake in my hands.

I tried to pull up the corners of my mouth, I didn't know if I was successful, though.

"You are that girl Carolyn was so excited about bringing home with her, right?" I managed to nod stiffly. I wasn't really shy, this was just too awkward. She fidgeted once before addressing me again.

"I'm sorry dear, but I forgot your name."

"It's Makea." She nodded her head, smiled apologetically and gestured us to come in. As soon as we had stepped over the doorstep we were welcomed by warm colors and smiling pictures. I looked around and I was sure I would've instantly felt home here if it weren't for the situation I was in. Here, I was a guest. A guest in a house of a single mother who was related to Carolyn—in some strange way, because Carolyn definitely wasn't Native. And that alone made me feel uncomfortable. William motioned me to put the we-welcome-you-in-our-lives cake on a nearby coffee-table, which I thankfully did. I was glad I finally got rid of the thing.

"Embry, get down and meet our guests!," Lily's voice called from the living room, where she and my foster parents had gone. Embry, I mused. Had to be her son. Poor boy, what did he do to deserve that name?

I looked over at the staircase, half-expecting a boy my age to stumble down the stairs. I waited for a noise, a creak, anything that would announce that Embry was really coming, but nothing. What was that boy doing upstairs? Had he not heard his mother? And then, so swiftly I wondered how I was even able to see more than a blur, Embry Call had come down the stairs and stood in front of me, staring at me a bit flabbergasted. He obviously did not expect anyone to witness his... whatever it was. His expression was hilarious but the rest of him... My eyebrows pulled together as I overlooked his entire height. My god.

"How old are you?," I blurted and fought the urge to slap myself for it. His brown eyes looked down at me and for a moment I felt as if I was 4 feet 7 inches not my normal 5 feet 3 inches tall. How huge was this Embry person? 6 feet something?

"Sixteen," his husky voice mumbled sheepishly.

"Sixteen?! Are you kidding me? You look at least twenty-three, not sixteen!" So he was my age after all. That is, if he wasn't lying. Embry shifted his weight awkwardly, opened his mouth when his mother interrupted our... conversation. Or something among those lines.

"Kids, what are you doing in the corridor?"

Embry and I shared a short look of you-know-this-conversation-isn't-over and I'm-afraid-so before we made our way to the living room. Both William and Carolyn gasped at the sight of Embry Sixteen-My-Ass Call and Carolyn leaned over to Lily, whispered something into her ear. Embry's shoulders slumped as we slowly took our seats. What was his deal?

Lily Call cleared her throat and all eyes were on her instantly. "Carolyn, William, this is my son Embry. Embry, you've met Caro once before? William is her husband." Embry nodded slowly, looking as if he was trying to remember when. "Good."

I felt a little offended that she didn't introduce me. Why was this woman being so rude? She and Carolyn were certainly related. I chose to introduce myself, not once glancing at Lily.

"I'm Makea Lowe, nice to meet ya." Embry seemed confused for a second but quickly covered it.

"Embry," he declared with a friendly but still sheepish smile playing on his lips. I returned it, this time sincerely. I had the impression that he was a nice guy, except that he was freaky as hell. And gorgeous, my mind added. My fists clenched under the table.

We sat in silence for a few minutes but as Embry's mother announced she would go and prepare to serve the meal something in the air changed. Then once Lily had left the room, hell—also known as Carolyn Bridge—broke loose. She sat up straighter in her seat, wiped the brown hair out of her eyes and addressed the poor boy sitting across from her.

"Embry Call, who do you think you are, doing this to your mother? Are you and your friends everything you ever think about?" Her tone was harsh, her gaze demanding. The only thing that came to my mind was Huh? I feel outta the loop. Embry seemed to have the same problem.

"Uh, I'm sorry Ma'am I have no idea what you're talking about." He raised one eyebrow and overall didn't seem intimidated at all. Right, why would a boy his size be intimidated by my stupid foster mother?

Carolyn huffed and narrowed her eyes. "Of course you have, don't you dare to lie to me! In the last few months you have done nothing but hurting and disappointing Lily!" I watched his expression turn to stone.

"This is none of your business, Mrs. Bridge," he replied angrily. His voice had gotten deeper.

"Do you think it is doing you any good, doing drugs?! You are throwing your life away, those friends of yours aren't good company!" Did she just inquire that he was doing drugs? Seriously? I glanced over at Embry. Did he really look like a junkie? Hm... no.

"Drugs?" Embry laughed humorlessly. "Who do you think you are, talking to me as if you were my fucking mother?! I choose my friends myself and you are not in the place to tell me who is and who isn't good company."

Carolyn was taken aback. I silently agreed with Embry, wondering why my foster mother had to be so unbelievably stupid. I mean, which sane person with just a tiny amount of respect walks into a house and accuses people of doing drugs and having the wrong friends? Yeah, none.

But Carolyn, being the ignorant woman she was, had not finished yet. "Of course, do you think we believe you've got a body like this from work outs? You know that steroids are bad for your health?" Suddenly Embry cracked up, causing us all to wonder what the hell was wrong with him. "What the hell is wrong with you?," I voiced my thoughts. My words almost weren't audible over Embry's loud guffaws so it surprised me that he calmed himself and turned to me. Embry took a few deep breaths before his expression turned hard again although I didn't fail to notice there was still amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"I have never taken drugs in my whole life and this body," he gestured to his broad chest, "is completely natural." He smirked, clearly full of himself. I found myself gawking at his abs that were visible through his tight shirt. Damn it Makea, get a grip on yourself.

"From what your mother told me, all of your friends look the same. Are you trying to tell me that is a coincidence?," Carolyn sneered. My god, his friends looked the same.

"Yes, I am," Embry scowled.

"Carolyn, where are you planning to go with this?" I frowned at my foster mother. This was getting slightly out of line. I wondered why William hadn't said anything yet. Her eyes wandered to me but she didn't answer anything.

"Do you like doing this, insulting people you don't even know when you are their guest? Do you think of this as fun?," I continued, irritated with her behavior. She narrowed her eyes to slits, opened her mouth only to be interrupted by Lily entering the room, a plate of giant steaks in her hands. I didn't know if I was supposed to be grateful or not.

* * *

I followed Embry up the stairs to his room, feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious for the wood creaked so loud under my feet and Embry... well, Embry's steps weren't audible at all. The grown folks had kicked us out of the room after we'd eaten. Embry walked in first, sitting down on a bed that clearly wasn't made to hold a boy his size. He looked at me as I closed the door behind me and it shocked me a little that with him sitting we were at eye-level.

"So... this is your room, I assume?," I broke the silence and sat down on the wooden floor with my back to the bed. I tilted my head back to look up at him and saw him staring into the air. Guilt began to nag on me.

"Look, I'm sorry for Carolyn's little 'speech'. She's just that way with others, don't take her too seriously, 'kay?" His gaze met mine for a brief moment before he continued staring at nothing.

His tone was grave as he mumbled "I'm not." I frowned, eyed his massive appearance. "Okay," I mumbled softly. Minutes passed before any of us spoke again. Embry looked down at me, really taking me in for the first time, or so it seemed.

"Are you Native American, as well? You look like it and, well, your name sounds Native." A small smile tugged on his lips. I relaxed, grateful that he had changed the topic. "Yeah, my mother was... is." I gritted my teeth but forced myself to get a grip on my emotions. Embry seemed to sense this and chose not to go further into the topic of my parents.

"Which tribe? I guess not Quileute, eh?" Ah, Quileute! That prevents me from asking.

"Nope, Diné." The look on his russet face changed into confusion. "Or Navajo, for outsiders. And my name," I let out a short laugh, "it's Finish. I forgot what it means, though."

"Finish?," he snickered, "Why would anyone give their child a finish name? Honestly, were they high or something?"

I grinned. "Probably. So tell me, are you really sixteen or did you fake your I.D.?" That amused him.

"Yep, I'm really sixteen. Although, if I'd fake my I.D. so that it says I'm twenty-six, would you think I've faked it or not?"

"It's more likely for you to be to be twenty-six than sixteen."

"So you'd believe me?"

"Yep."

He muttered a "Cool" before getting up and stalking over to the door. I looked up at him questioningly.

"I'm taking a walk, wanna tag along?" I nodded and rose to my feet ungracefully. It was really annoying that Embry, a guy, was thousand times more graceful than me. I really should've taken those ballet classes when I was seven. I followed him out the door and down the stairs. We tiptoed the whole way—I mean, I tiptoed the whole way, Embry apparently didn't need to—until we were out of danger of being spotted.

It wasn't really cold outside. The rain had stopped and the only evidence that it had really rained were the small puddles and the mud-covered ground. Still, I wrapped my arms around me in order to keep myself warm for Embry and I hadn't bothered to take our jackets with us when we sneaked out. I glanced over at him. Embry was kicking stones out of his way, hands in his pockets and looked... I rose both eyebrows. This boy never failed to surprise me. He looked as if he was too warm but that couldn't be possible, could it? Weird.

I averted my eyes too gaze at what was in front of us, thinking of how different life had been when I'd lived in Seattle. La Push didn't even have a mall! But, something in my head interfered, it does have nature and a strange sense of freedom. True, I was raised to appreciate nature the way it was created more than big cities and apartment blocks.

The woods were directly in front of us, the Olympic Rain Forest, free and wild. Whoa, I was getting mushy.

"Hey, Embry?" He looked down at me—yes, down, that guy was more than a head taller than me—and grunted. Boys and their ways of communication.

"You aren't really doing drugs, are you?" I didn't know why but somehow a gang of junkies or whatever would ruin the idyllic image I had of La Push. I had never been on a reservation before, my parents had had me a little while after my mom had moved into the city to live with my dad, but my mother had told me about the reservation she was born on.

Embry stared at me incredulously. "I'm not," he said. Yeesh, boys and their two-word answers.

I bit my lip and looked up at the cloudy sky. "I bet you've got something better to do than hanging out with plain ol' me." He let out a laugh.

"Yeah, but I'm being a gentleman and spend my time with you instead."

"You know that chivalry is dead?"

"It isn't dead, just nearly extinct."

"Yeah, right," I muttered, amused.

We stopped walking at the edge of the woods and Embry sat down on the wet grass. We had long since left the muddy road. "You're gonna get your jeans wet," I commented as I leaned against a nearby tree.

"They'll dry, as will yours." He pointed at the spot next to him.

"I don't want to look like I've peed my pants, Em," I said, eying the lush grass suspiciously.

"You're such a girl, you know that?"

"Actually, I do." Embry gasped mockingly, trying to look truly astonished. And failed. A cool breeze blew through the trees, making the leaves rustle and me shiver. It was getting late and cold, and I didn't want Carolyn to blow up on me because I sneaked out with a boy she thought was involved with drugs.

"It's gettin' late, let's head back to your place." Embry let out a very masculine sound of agreement before he got up to his feet in one fluid motion, once again towering over me. I grinned devilishly as I walked around him to examine the back of his jeans but that grin fell as soon as I saw that there wasn't one single wet spot.

"Hey, your pants aren't even wet!" He turned to face me, shrugged his shoulders and gave me that sheepish smile of his, the one he only smiled when something was really, really, weird about him.

"Freakshow," I mumbled and made my way past him, back to his house.

We didn't speak on the whole way, not even when it was time to leave. In the doorway, we exchanged smiles. Though, as I was just about to get into William's car I heard him call "See you tomorrow at school."

On the car ride home the only thing that came to my mind was Embry's actually a nice guy. At least I'd know someone on my first day.

The very first (and very long) chapter of my new Jacob/OC fic Chasing Your Smile! I hope you enjoyed, leave reviews if you did!

Oh, and Makea is pronounced Ma-kee-a, the first a as in the i of is.

Loves, Kora