A/N: I know I don't like Twilight, and I know you can probably tell by the way I'll end up slamming any mention of Bella or Edward that I may have to make, but I do, however, love the werewolves in Twilight; they're my favorite characters and the only reason I wanted to see New Moon what so ever. But there are basically no Paul stories, and I love angry men, because I can outdo them every time.

So let's see how badly I can screw this up.

Oh, and since I will never, not once ever again do a disclaimer for this story, I should probably do it now so I don't get sued; that wouldn't look good on me, now would it?

Disclaimer: I, Jassabella, hold no right to any of the characters in Stephanie Meyer's Twilight Saga. I do not claim them in any shape or form. I do, however, own my OCs and the plot-line for this story.

Songs:

According to You - Orianthi
Bad Romance - Lady GaGa
Welcome to my Life - Simple Plan
She Wolf - Shakira
Break Your Heart - Taio Cruz

Chapter 1

Goodbye, Hello

Let me just say that being as pale as they come in Texas sucks! And then, having the black hair that makes you look paler still, and to the semblance of a corpse, yeah, that's really a yummy icing on the cake of my life! But, things would soon be getting worse still because I, along with my new parents, Jed and Missy, would be moving to and living on an Indian reservation in Washington. I'm going to stick out like a sore thumb, and everyone will figure that I'm adopted because Jed is half Native American and Missy is full blooded. They both have that gorgeous sun-bronzed skin and straight raven hair. I, on the other hand, am chalky, blue-eyed and dead looking.

Yeah, everything's peachy keen.

The upside is that I actually used to live in Washington in a near-by town called Forks, and my mom had managed to track down one of my childhood friends, Mike Newton. He's actually a couple years older than I am - few more months and I wouldn't have needed to be adopted - and soon getting married, as I hear it. Well, good for him.

I have only had a grand total of four boyfriends, two of which cheated on me, and one that tried to take advantage of me. The last and most recent one was a total sweet-heart, and I honestly still love him, but with me moving and him going off to Yale, well, it's just hard. So we've said our good-byes, and I think I'm ready to move on. Lie. Alright, maybe not so much, but I'm ready to let him go.

But I do love flying, and music, which is why, as I sit in one of the many window seats in an airplane, my ear buds stuck in my ears, I'm happy as a clam. The loud base-lines and drum beats are ringing through my skull and numbing me to the suckiness of what's about to happen.

Beside me, Missy is reading a Cosmo magazine - which she will no doubt give to me when she's finished - and Jed is in the aisle seat, looking about as pale as any native American can; he hates flying and we've been on the plane for a while. I don't call them mom and dad much yet, but I do love them. I'm eternally grateful that they chose me to be their child, and not a more appealing, younger child. First time I called Missy mom, she squealed, embraced me and took me shopping for some new jeans. Which I so didn't mind.

But the buckle up sign flashed on in front of me, and the annoying, sugary sweet voice of the flight attendant filtered through the air. "Please fasten your seat belts as we descend into Seattle. Thank you for flying with us today." Yeah, thanks for making me gag on your voice. I hate flight attendants; they're all so freaking fake. My real dad, before he died, had advised me to never trust a flight attendant - he should know, he was a pilot. And I felt that his wisdom still held some value, even if he was no longer here. He went down in 9/11, when I was nine. I'd never had much contact with my mom, and chose to keep it that way, even after she came searching for me with her new husband, Darren. Nice man, but even less my dad than Jed was.

I pretty much tuned out the rest of the ride out, including the plummeting of my stomach as we descended. I didn't open my eyes again until I felt us touch down. Then I turned to look at Jed, who wasn't looking too well. Missy looked sympathetically at him - Dad, I forced myself to think - and patted his back comfortingly.

We grabbed our carry-ons out of the bins, and walked out of the plane Je-Dad taking a big gulp of air as he went. I honestly felt bad for him. He hated flying so much, and he would never get the feelings that I got when I was on a plane; the feeling of freedom and a closeness to someone I could never be close to again. He'd never get past his nerve-wracking-vomit-producing fear.

We went to baggage claim, and, as was customary, Mom's bag got lost. My bright blue suitcase and Dad's black suitcase and duffel made it through just fine, but my mom, well, she just has really bad luck when it comes to baggage claim. I've been on three flights with them, and not once have we actually been able to find her things. It drives them both nuts, but I think they're starting to get used to it. But the upside is, Mike and his fiance, Jessica were supposed to meet us out front. I don't really remember him, but he, apparently, remembers me.

It's dark when we finally get outside - Mom's bags found and good - and I can hardly see the stars over the city lights, but I'm used to that by now. But, I spotted a guy, tall with blond hair, who had his arm wrapped around a short girl with brown hair. He looked directly at me, and broke out into an overly eager grin. "Sydney Christina Afton."

I smiled back, a little less eager than he, but still kinda excited by now. "Sydney Christina LeHaye now. I'm guessing you'd be Mike."

He laughed a little bit, and Jessica, safely tucked under his arm, looking sort of dollish in her size, smiled as well. "Yeah," he said, not really as a confirmation; just a yeah. "Yeah, that's me. I'm guessing you don't remember me, huh? Been a while." He shrugged, looking like it wasn't really anything, but he seemed the puppy-dog type, so it probably hurt him to some degree that I couldn't dredge up even one memory of him.

"Yeah, it has." I agreed, rocking back on my heels.

There was a short silence, but Dad broke it easily enough. "Thanks for coming out here to welcome us, Mike, Jessica, but we best be driving up to the house now. I'm sure Missy's cousin, Sarah, is waiting most eagerly for us. Everyone wants a slice of Syd." He put his arm around my shoulder, and I took comfort in his embrace. "So we'll see you around."

"It was nice to meet you," I hear Mi-Mom say before we headed off to find the car that Sarah and her husband James had brought down for us. Apparently, Sarah was very excited to meet me; she and Mom had grown up together, and she was very, very eager to meet her daughter. Namely, me. And she wanted to introduce me to her son and his friends. I smell a match maker. But I've seen a picture of her son, and he's kind of yummy, so maybe I'll deal.

We finally managed to find our little, silver Audi, and dad dumped all our crap in trunk and we began the very long drive from Seattle to the Quileute Res.

--

I must have dozed on the way over, because the next time I opened my eyes, there were no bright lights except for the ones in a restaurant that we were just passing. I sleepily wiped my eyes, and pushed myself up in the seat, trying to find a hint as to where we were. I'd almost forgotten we were in Washington when I saw the sign for Forks High. Yeah, I wouldn't be going there. I'd be going to the Res. school, because that's where I live, so that's where I qualify to go. It doesn't matter that I don't have so much as a shred of Native American blood in me. Apparently, they don't really care.

I realized that Miss-Mom had fallen asleep to, and laughed as my dad concentrated on the roads a little harder than necessary. He looked back at me with a grin. "Awake, are we, sleeping beauty?" He chuckled, and only then did I realize that head-lights were flooding through are back window, because, at that moment, whoever was behind us, turned. "Wave to Mike and Jessica. They've been tailing us since Seattle." I did wave - slightly, and with little enthusiasm, but a wave, none-the-less.

"Dad," I grumbled sleepily, but I didn't miss the look of pride that enveloped his face at the name, "are we there yet." I almost laughed at the question; it was so classic.

He still looked like he'd been voted hottest man in America in terms of pride. "Almost, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes, and we'll be in Sarah's clutches." He laughed at his joke, and I gave a much more groggy version. I just hoped when he said 'In Sarah's clutches,' that he meant, 'Tomorrow.' But, from what I'd heard about Sarah... I wasn't so sure.

I don't really remember much of what happened for the rest of that night, only that Dad must have been running strictly on coffee by the time we got to our place because he still had energy to get our few bags out of the trunk as I slogged up the steps to my new house, drop them in the entry way, and then go back and get mom and carry her inside as I managed the stairs up to my room; this house was a little... ridiculous compared to some of the other houses in La Push. It was massive, for one thing; six bedrooms, four baths, three stories, and.. yeah, it was plain out impressive, and kinda wasteful, considering our humble family of three. Not that that wouldn't be remedied soon enough; Mom and dad were already looking into a nearby orphanage.

But I didn't think about any of this as I sank into my mattress. I didn't think at all. Just let unconsciousness take me over from the moment my head touched the pillow

--

What I woke to the next day was pretty much the same thing I had woken up to in Texas only two days before, except I didn't need my thick curtains to block out the sun-shine; the clouds did it for me. The smell of a hearty breakfast assaulted my nose, and the smell of coffee jolted my system into a more awake state than I wanted to be; stupid coffee addiction. But more than that, it was the sound of ringing! Did no one else hear that?

I dragged myself out of bed, rubbing my eyes all the way, and realizing, as I walked, that I was not in my comfortable pajama pants, but in my less comfortable jeans. Must not have changed last night. Which meant I would have wicked sleep marks all over my torso because this top is not meant for comfort. I trudged down the steps, ungraceful and loud, wondering why the hell the incessant person at the door was still ringing our door bell. I was tempted to yell, 'No one's here; step off the door bell,' but knew that would not be a good way to start out if it was one of our neighbors, so, instead I just unlocked it and pulled it open.

A woman, around the same height as Mom who is just slightly taller than me, and two boys stood there, the boys carting... food. Why is it always food? Why couldn't they bring us a welcome movie basket. The woman was beaming, and launched herself at me. "Oh, you must be Miss's new daughter, Sydney. Oh, I've just been so excited to meet you. Miss didn't shut-up about you through out any conversation I had with her."

I hugged her awkwardly back. "You must be Sarah." I wasn't trying to ignore her, but it was too early in the morning for babble. Maybe later.

One of the boys cleared his throat, rather loudly. Sarah seemed to have forgotten they were there. "Oh, yes, Sydney, dear, this is my son Collin, and his friend Brady." She introduced each of the freakishly tall boys, the skinnier of the two being Collin. Sarah looked around the two boys, as if someone had disappeared. "And I thought I had one more with me."

"You did, Sarah." Brady replied. "Seth bolted at the last minute though, leaving us with more of this to carry." He held up the food in his arms a little to emphasize his point. "Said Jake needed him for something or other." Sarah seemed satisfied with this, but I was slightly confused. Brady turned his eyes on me. "Welcome to the reservation, Sydney. Don't worry about being the new girl; me and the guys will protect you." He winked at me, and I nearly giggled at the sight; he had to be younger than me.

Collin shoved him. "Oh please, we all know that I'll be the one protecting Sydney here. You just wish you had my skills, man." I usually didn't go for the cocky, pompous attitude, but it seemed more teasing and bantery than anything, so it was actually kind of cute. But these guys were already on my hunk list so, yeah, little biased.

Brady had opened his mouth to reply to Collin's claim, but his voice was over powered by that of my mother. "Oh, Sarah." I turned just in time to get myself out of the way as my mom launched herself at Sarah. I think it's a projectile hug, but I doubt I'll ever get it completely right. "It's been so long! And Collin. Well, the last time I saw you, you were shorter than me. Now you're, well, not." That was the understatement of the century; both of them towered over all of us women. "Well, come in, come in! All of you," she motioned them in, and they entered, taking in the inside of our house.

Brady and Collin let out impressed whistles. Mom had probably gotten up early this morning to start decorating, and so, the front hall already looked immaculate - she was the one who designed the spreads for those magazine living rooms you see in catalogues, after all. Pictures hung all over the walls, but not over-crowding them. Mom had somehow managed to get every school picture I'd ever had given to her, so she had pictures of me from five till now. And even some baby ones that the orphanage had gotten when I was removed from my home. There were also some fairly recent pictures of me and them that we had professionally done in the park. And then, of course, some of them at their wedding and other huge events, but the pictures were mostly me. They really loved me like their own daughter. "Are you sure you're adopted?" I heard Brady ask from behind me. Ah, so he'd noticed the pictures too.

I stifled a giggle. "Pretty damn sure." I replied, and Mom turned around with a warning look for the language. I had the decency to look abashed. "Sorry, Mom."

She looked satisfied. Sarah bumped her with her hip. "O, c'mon, Miss. It isn't that bad. You should hear some of the things my boy says. And his pack of friends. And I mean that with all the love in the world, Brady." she added, giving a meaningful smile to the boy in question. I laughed. It was almost like home already.

"Coffee!" I exclaimed as we reached the kitchen. I scrambled into the room and to the coffee pot, going over to the fridge and grabbing my vanilla coffee mate. I got my special cup that said, "Give me coffee, and no one gets hurt!" and poured, drinking down the scalding liquid. When I peaked over the cup's top, I saw Collin and Brady looking amused, Sarah looking like she was about to burst out in giggles, and mom, used to this routine by now, was fixing the eggs, - bleh - bacon and English muffins. There was a surprising amount, but then, mom had heard tales from Sarah about how much Collin and his friends eat, and Sarah must have warned her there would be at least three of them with her, when she still had three in the first place.

Seeing the pile of food when my mom turned around, both boys' eyes widened and they were sitting at the table faster than I had gotten my coffee - in other words, damn fast. I sat down next to Collin, who was the first to grab a handful of bacon as the plate was laid down on the table, followed very closely by Brady. I took three pieces, and an english muffin, making a small bacon sandwich. Sarah claimed she had already eaten, and only took a couple apple slices when my mom offered, and mom was notorious for snacking while she cooked, so it was just us three at the table while the women went off to chat.

Brady turned to look at me around Collin. "So, you're a coffee addict, huh?" And I couldn't help myself; I laughed.

I raised my eyebrows at him and looked at him over the top of my cup as I took another drink. "Pick that up, did you, Sherlock?" I asked sarcastically, putting my coffee cup down and biting into my biscuit. "Been a coffee addict since I turned thirteen, if you must know."

Collin was looking at me odd, and I tried to mimic his expression. "You're supposed to be taller." He stated it, bluntly and to the point. I'm supposed to be taller; what the hell? Now my weirded out look was completely real and justified. Seeing this, he quickly amended, "Coffee stunts your growth; you probably would have been a couple inches taller if you hadn't started drinking it so young."

I shrugged. "I like my size; nice and average."

"You aren't average." I turned to Brady, confused by this statement. But he gave me a sly, knowing smile, and took a drink of the orange juice my mom had set in front of him right before she left. "Just saying."

But all I was thinking is, 'How does he know that?'

A/N: I know that you guys are probably really confused right now, but let's just say that Sydney isn't 100% normal. In fact, she's probably a little closer to 50% normal. She's completely human though. 100% human, just not normal. And she's not a wolf, which I accented quite well by saying she doesn't even have a shred of Native American blood.

No, Collin and Brady do NOT imprint on her. This is a Paul/OC story, not a Brady/OC or a Collin/OC story, though the younger wolves deserve some love too.

Paul will show up in the next chapter; I swear it.

And just FYI, the songs at the top are the main ones I listened to while I was writing. And when I say main, I mean the ones I listened to over and over again, because that's how I roll. And I think that abut wraps it up. Until we next meet.

Madly Yours,
Jassabella