Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. They are the property of Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter 1: Waiting to Fall

They watched me constantly, those who knew, as if it would happen suddenly while I was walking down the street or eating my eggs and toast. At first they watched me patiently, from the corners of their dark eyes, conspicuous enough that I thought I was just being paranoid.

And then I turned sixteen and their patience began to wear thin.

I was part of an elite clan within the Quileute tribe, consisting of the Council Elders and their families. Of course, to call them "elders" was a misnomer. Sam Uley was the oldest and he couldn't pass for more than thirty.

I wasn't Quileute, but I had lived on the small reservation in La Push since I was three. My mother and her sister Emily belonged to the Makah tribe, and when Emily went down to La Push to visit her cousin Leah, she fell in love with Sam Uley and decided to stay. A few years later she convinced my mother to join her.

I grew up knowing about my heritage, but my Makah bloodline didn't seem to matter anymore. I went to a Quileute school with twenty other Quileute students. I made Quileute friends, participated in Quileute celebrations, and was expected to marry a Quileute man.

Or, rather, a Quileute man-wolf.

I knew the legends, of course, about spirit warriors and shape-shifters and bloodsuckers. I had always suspected they were more than just stories and they had fascinated me, but even before I knew my story, there were things I wanted to believe . . . and things I didn't.

Men turning into werewolves to protect their village was pretty cool.

Being expected to marry one of them because they have a little crush on you? Not so much.

I didn't always know Quil Ateara was meant for me. I guess you could say I was a little naïve, but I preferred to think I was distracted. Who cared about boys when there was a large world out there and only one lifetime to see it all in? I was a dreamer, and my dreams took me to Africa and Europe and Australia. I wanted to sail the oceans and cross the deserts and hike the Appalachians, from Mississippi to Newfoundland. The tiny room I shared with my sister was covered in maps and brochures, things I picked up at travel agencies on the rare occasions I was allowed to go to Seattle.

Ironically, it was Quil I confided in most about my post-graduation plans. Not knowing for most of my life that half the town was waiting for me to fall in love with him, I told him how determined I was to leave the Olympic Peninsula and never look back.

As always, he had been completely supportive. He had smiled wide and bright and said, "Then I'll buy you a pair of sunglasses."

I had known Quil all my life, and just as the legends of the spirit wolves say, he never aged. Quil remained a man in his twenties while I grew from a small child to a young woman. I did love him, but as a brother and a best friend. I supposed if I were the kind of girl who could be happy getting married, having werewolf pups and never leaving La Push, Quil would have been a great mate for me, but I knew in the depths of my soul that it would never be enough.

"Claire!"

Speak of the devil.

Quil was taking long strides across the muddy gravel road, his forest green T-shirt stuck to his broad chest and arms by the drizzle that had been falling all day. Of course he and the others didn't wear jackets, even in the downpours La Push was used to getting. A light rain like this was nothing to them.

I was sitting under the awning of the reservation's only cafe, sipping an orange Fanta and thinking about graduation, which was now just weeks away. I was almost eighteen and I had endured the stares, whispers, and comments for two years. Enough was enough.

A small part of me resented Quil when he smiled at me the way he was doing right now, his teeth bright against his russet skin and his black eyes shining. When he looked at me like that, it made me wonder how I had missed it all those years, how I could have possibly mistook his love for me as brotherly affection. It was so obvious. And it was annoying.

"Hey dog boy," I said as he reached my table. Beads of water fell from his nose and his black hair was disheveled.

Quil was freakishly tall, like the others in the pack, and muscular to the point that all of the Quileute girls flushed scarlet when he walked by. They were all impressive, I'll give the pack that, and a little intimidating to those who didn't know what big kids they could be.

Quil had somehow managed to keep some of his boyish looks. His features were sharp, like the others, but there was still a softness to them. His nose was a little rounder than the others, his lips a little fuller, and he had dimples when he smiled. Ah, those dimples. The guys really gave him shit about them.

He cringed at my greeting and the dimples disappeared.

"I wish you wouldn't call me that," he said.

"I thought you loved being a werewolf," I challenged. "I thought it was, like, the greatest thing that ever happened to you."

"Yeah, but when you say it . . ." He let his voice trail off and I suddenly felt guilty. My comment had been a little malicious. It was just so annoying sometimes, the way he followed me around like a lovesick puppy.

They had all tried to explain it to me, this phenomenon of imprinting. They tried to make me understand that it wasn't something Quil, or any of them, could control. I wasn't buying it. He hadn't even known me when this crush began. I had been a baby, which in itself was a little creepy.

But this was Quil, the guy who had taken me to Seattle for the first time, the first to show me life off the reservation. The guy who, no matter how grand my dreams were, got as excited as I was and encouraged me to pursue them, even when he knew it meant leaving him forever.

And his dimples were kind of cute. Damn him!

I held up my orange Fanta. "Can I interest you in a beverage, sir?"

He put his hands on the back of the chair across from me and leaned in a little, the warm smile returning.

"Actually, I was just wondering if you're going to Emily's tonight for dinner?"

And put up with everyone watching our every move, talking about us in loud whispers so we could hear them? I think not.

"Not this time, Quil. I really have a lot to do before graduation."

He dropped his eyes and squeezed the back of the chair. "Oh," he said quietly.

A new wave of guilt washed through me. Damn him to hell!

"But I guess I still have to eat," I said. His head shot up again, his grin bigger than ever.

"Yeah? Great! I'll see you there." He held eye contact for a moment, making me uncomfortable, and then he turned and stepped back into the drizzle. His steps seemed a little lighter and he stood a little taller.

Was he whistling? Jesus.

I finished the soda and pulled the hood of my parka over my head. I had a few hours before I would be expected at my aunt's house and I hadn't been lying about having things to do. I needed to finish planning my trip. I would go to college someday, but the first thing on my agenda was seeing as much of the world as I could afford.

I would start with Canada, since I was already close. First, Vancouver--I was embarrassed to admit I hadn't even been that far yet—and then Calgary, up to Edmonton, and over to Winnipeg. The plan was to make it as far as Quebec and then back down to the states, starting in Maine. Maybe I'd look at colleges as I made my way west again.

I didn't think I was going to miss this place, but suddenly the shabby little shacks that passed for homes around here looked cozy and inviting. Kids played in mud puddles and ran in and out of the forest lining both sides of the road. This was my home, and as eager as I was to leave it, the thought of never coming back threatened to choke me.

Well, there was nothing that said I couldn't come back.

My sister, Sara, was lying on the couch when I walked into our own little shack.

"Your boyfriend called for you," she said. She thought the whole Quil thing was amusing. At least she didn't take it seriously.

Normally I would have had some smartass comment to throw back at her, but I wasn't in the mood.

I went to our room and sat at my desk, pulling out the map of Canada Quil had picked up for me. It was difficult not to think about him, even as I was planning my great escape. He had touched every part of my life, and his prints were everywhere. The posters on my wall, the luggage in my closet (an early graduation gift), even the bracelet on my left wrist.

I looked at the bracelet. It was woven from light blue and green thread and the colors were bright against my dark skin. I hadn't taken it off in years and it was fuzzy and worn. I rarely thought about it anymore, but suddenly it was like a chain binding me to him. It was worse than an engagement ring because he had made it for me himself, and I continued to wear it even after I knew the motivation behind it and the implications it held.

No wonder people were talking.

I grabbed the scissors from a cup on my desk and snipped it before I could picture Quil's face and feel guilty. The tattered bracelet fell to the desk. I pushed it to the floor and unfolded the map.

I allowed myself to be taken up in the excitement of my trip, but it was short-lived when I realized that I probably wouldn't have the funds to make it all the way to Quebec. I'd be lucky to make it to Winnipeg. A friend had gotten me a job at a sporting goods store in Forks, but I had to pay Jacob gas money to take me, and it seemed I was always giving money to my mother to help buy groceries and pay the electric bill. I had less than a thousand dollars saved up.

At least working at Newton's had allowed me to get some high quality backpacking equipment with my employee discount. I hadn't planned to backpack across all of Canada, but if that's what it took . . .

I folded up the map, depressed. I decided to go to Emily's early and help.

It was raining harder when I stepped out the front door, leaving Sara on the couch, now on the phone with God-knew-who. I didn't mind the rain. It fit my mood.

It was a short walk to Emily's. I saw Jacob's Rabbit parked in front and felt relieved that he and Leah were there.

I stood on the small porch and was about to let myself in when I heard Jacob say, "Be serious, Quil, she's made it pretty clear she doesn't feel the same way."

They were talking about me.

Through the window by the door, I could see Jacob's wide back and part of Quil's arm. Unless they shifted, they wouldn't see me, but I scrunched up next to the door just in case.

Jacob was married to Leah, my mom's second cousin. He was family by marriage and a dear friend, but suddenly I loved him more than anyone in the world. He was on my side. He was trying to convince Quil to get over me.

"You're one to talk," Quil retorted.

"What does that mean?"

"I seem to remember you being pretty persistent when a certain leech lover told you she'd never see you as more than a friend."

"Leave Bella out of this," Jacob said, tension in his normally jolly voice.

I gasped at the name.

Jacob continued. "Besides, the thing with Bella was just a stupid crush and I got over it."

"Only because you imprinted on Leah." It was Sam who said this.

"Exactly!" Quil said, a new confidence in his voice now that Sam had his back. "I'm telling you and Sam because you've both imprinted, against your better judgments, and I figured you'd understand."

"I do understand. I really do," Jacob insisted. "I just think you should wait, that's all. Think about what you're giving up!"

"I have thought about it," Quil said quietly. I had to strain to hear him in the rain, but the walls of Emily's house were thin and his deep voice carried.

"You love being a werewolf. You've loved it since day one. You can't tell me—"

"I love her more," Quil said.

"Sure, sure. You just go ahead and give up immortality for a girl who's leaving in three weeks and probably never coming back."

"Jacob," Sam warned.

His immortality? I knew the werewolves didn't age but I guess I hadn't thought about it beyond that. If they were immortal, why weren't the werewolves of the Quileute legends still around?

And how did a werewolf give up his immortality?

"Hey, Claire!"

I jumped. Jared and Kim were coming up the yard. It suddenly got quiet inside.

The door opened and Jacob beamed down at me.

"Hey squirt," he said playfully.

Apparently everyone had decided to arrive early because the small house was full well before we were supposed to be there. The guys were standing around near the backdoor, talking about how boring it had been for the pack lately.

"We could lure some of them here, somehow. Give us something to do for a while," Jared had suggested. I tuned them out.

I was in the kitchen with Emily, Kim and Leah. My mom had to work and I guessed Sara was still on the phone.

I could hear laughter coming from the bedroom.

"What are they doing in there?" I asked. "It sounds like a herd of monkeys."

Leah burst out laughing. "Monkeys don't travel in herds, Claire."

"Well whatever. They sound like they're bouncing off the walls."

"They're probably just jumping on the bed," Emily said, turning away so that the scars on the right side of her face were hidden from us. We didn't notice them anymore, but I could see how she would still feel self-conscious about them.

There was a loud crashing sound, probably from one of the kids flying off the bed and into the wall. Emily, Leah and Kim all had offspring in the room, so they tensed, waiting for the sound of a wailing child. There was a burst of laughter from the room and they all relaxed. Kim continued with some story she'd been telling.

I wasn't listening. I was thinking about what I had overheard outside Emily's door and wondered if I should ask her about it later.

But maybe Emily wasn't the one to ask. If werewolves could give up their immortality, did that mean they started aging again? Sam hadn't aged for as long as I'd known him, but Emily had. She was in her mid-thirties while Sam, like the rest of them, looked to be in his mid-twenties.

If werewolves could give up their immortality, would Emily want Sam to give up his?

It seemed to me that Leah and Jacob were the luckiest among the werewolf couples. Leah was the only female in Quileute history to phase, and since she and Jacob were both immortal, they didn't have to worry about things like aging and dying.

They also didn't have to worry about the dangers of being married to a werewolf. My eyes flickered back to Emily.

Leah grabbed my arm and I jumped, startled. Like the others, her skin ran a toasty one-oh-nine.

"Well?" she whispered, her brown eyes wide in anticipation.

"Well what?" I asked, pulling my arm from her burning grasp. She nodded toward Quil, who was standing with his back to the wall so that he could keep an eye on me, but he was concentrating on something Paul was saying.

"Anything yet?"

I saw Emily and Kim lean towards us a little.

I groaned. "Can't I have one night without—"

"Hey, where's your bracelet?" Leah interrupted. She was looking down at my left arm, her bottom lip jutting out slightly.

Before I could respond, the room grew quiet and the guys were looking at us, too.

"It, uh . . . fell off. In the shower this morning," I stammered.

"But you were wearing it earlier," Quil said. "At the cafe. I saw it."

Seriously?! I wanted to be mad, I really did. Why did they have to scrutinize every little thing I said and did and wore? What the hell was with everybody?

But wasn't this exactly what I wanted when I cut it off? To make it public that I was separating myself from Quil?

His eyes were too sad. I couldn't look at them and be annoyed.

"Quil . . ." I said slowly, pleading.

Leah gaped at him. Emily looked down at the counter. Kim excused herself to check on the kids and disappeared through the bedroom door; for the brief moment it was open, the laughter was loud and filled the room.

I took a step toward Quil. I didn't know what to say to him, but before I could open my mouth, he walked between the men and left through the back door.