Hiyas! --claps hands together in giddy excitement-- I LOVE new stories! Always the adrenaline that keeps me writing! Anyways, thanks to all who read and leave me a note to help decide if this one is a keeper!! thanks a bunch!!!! --runner

Chapter 1

I stared dreamily into his dark, chocolately eyes, seeing everything I've ever wanted and more. The way his russet skin covered the bone structure of his face smoothly…it was mesmerizing. As if I was staring at the stone statue placed upon a pedestal of some famous man that changed the world. With his looks, he might as well do so.

"So, uh, can I have that pencil?" His deep voice broke me out of my reverie.

"Huh?" I asked dumbly.

"Pencil?" He repeated, pointing at the two in my hand. "For me?" He pointed to himself.

"Oh," I said, rolling the small yellow piece of wood towards him. "Sure. Take it."

"Thanks," he mumbled, turning his attention back to the front of the classroom, as I should.

But of course I didn't.

I could only worthlessly stare at the side of his head, absorbed in the way his long hair went to his shoulders, covering his ears. I jumped, causing my chair to make a loud screech and have several people turn to glare at me, when a wad of paper hit the back of my head. Jared didn't even turn towards the noise.

I suppressed a sigh, leaning down subtly and snatching the infuriating paper of the ground. I hid it under the table (our reservation didn't have the funding for proper desks; apparently the Elders had more important things to put the money to. What they are, I had no idea.) And quickly unfurled it, already having a good idea of where it came from. I easily recognized the scrawl of my best friend, Kaitlin on the crumpled paper.

It's not healthy, I swear!

I sighed, my finger lightly tracing over to her too-true words. She was good at seeing these type of things since her mother was a teenage counselor in Port Angeles. Kaitlin was only too happy to put in her two cents on things like teenage issues and the "drama" of the teenage life. Apparently, my case was labeled as an "unhealthy obsession" which I totally disagreed on. So I had a little crush. Don't all girls have their crushes in their sophomore year of high school?

Quickly I scribbled:

It is too healthy! At least Jared is good looking and doesn't have curly long black hair and welts covering every inch of his face!

I silently balled it back up and waited until Mrs. Smith turned her back to write something on the board. Once she was distracted enough, I stealthily turned in my seat and chucked it back at the oblivious Kaitlin, who was twirling a brown lock of hair around her finger as she snapped the gum in her mouth. I watched with satisfaction as it smacked her in the face and turned to the front of the room with a smile on my face.

Before she had a chance to retaliate, the nasal bell of Quileute Tribal School sounded off, signaling the end of another standard Thursday. I smiled with glee as I turned to shove my notebooks in my bag, stealing one last glance at Jared, who was rapidly stuffing things in his bag and preparing for take off. His eagerness made me smile, like he was a puppy going for a walk.

I turned when somebody tapped my shoulder, relieved to see that it was just Kaitlin.

"Yes?" I asked as innocent as I could muster. She was going to beat me for taunting her about Andrew, her infatuation of the week. I couldn't see the draw; his looks paled next to Jared's. Of course, it seemed like everybody's looks did in my opinion. I sighed as I slinged the heavy bag over my shoulder, wondering how the weight would permanently damage my posture.

Wordless with anger, she held up the crumpled note on the side I had written on.

"Yes?" I repeated. "Is there a problem?"

She vigorously shook the ripped piece of paper in my face. "This Kimberly Ann Chehalis!" ((I know that it is wrong of me, but I am cheating! I am using the names of things around Washington as their last name since my Google of "Quileute Names" came up with nothing –runner)) "This is what my problem is!"

I sighed, rolling my eyes at her dramatics. As was our tradition, we headed over to the back door, avoiding the large and pushy crowds of students eager to run from the school.

"I mean come on!" She continued. "You make fun of me for liking Andrew while you're over there leaving a puddle of drool of Jared Haida!"

"Hey!" I said, defending myself without half the fervor she was.

"I mean come on Kimmy," she pleaded, gripping my arm as we slowly made our way towards the front of the school where I could already hear the roar of the buses as they began to enter the small parking lot of QTS. ((Just in case you don't know this, QTS means Quileute Tribal School –runner))

"Don't," I interrupted, flicking her hand away from my arm. "Call me Kimmy. It's even worse than Kimberly."

She sighed, "Fine Kim," I smiled, nodding for her to go on now that I had a proper title. "Please tell me that this infatuation with be over with soon. I mean, fifth grade. And you refuse to ask him out! Since the fifth grade! We are now in our sophomore year of high school! Five years of pining for this boy yet you refuse to ask him to hang out, even as friends! He hardly even acknowledges you, and I doubt he knows your name. Kim. Get. Real."

I threw my head back and groaned as she said those last words, something that she repeated like a mantra twenty times a day at the least. Apparently, my longing was even unhealthier than her obsession with multiple guys, her crushes changing once a week. Jacob Black was currently the record holder for the longest crushing time with Kaitlin, although he never even knew about it. She was completely believed that she was in love with him for sixteen days until she saw another one of his friends, Paul, and switched views. Now, he was just considered window shopping material; something you enjoy getting an eyeful as you pass buy, but never really want to go in and buy.

"And do I need to even mention your diary?" She asked, her perfected one-raised-eyebrow look coming across her face.

"You looked in my diary?" I screeched, fully smacking her in the arm now.

"Duh," Kaitlin replies, not even flinching at my hitting. "You might think that you're hiding place in-between the mattress and the bed frame may be ingenious on your part, but it's a classic hiding place. First place I looked, actually," she said, thoughtful now. "You made it really easy on me Kimberly," she slung an arm around my shoulders. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," I grumbled. My diary was my hiding spot, something I could confide in because I knew that I wouldn't receive a cryptic response because it couldn't talk, which was a nice break when you're best friends with Kaitlin Chetco, who received the nickname "motor mouth" for having a very fast and very loud mouth, and lived in a family of six, including a loud and argument prone mother and father, both of whom were lawyers, which certainly didn't help the situation.

She laughed lightly as we joined the hoards of other students all fighting their way towards the entrance of the six buses. Luckily, Kaitlin and I lived a couple blocks from each other, so we rode the same bus and I always had a bus seat partner. We quickly found an open seat in the perfect spot: not too close to the bus driver so we didn't look like suck ups, and not so close to the back of the bus, where most of the ruckus was generated. Soon we were rolling out of the parking lot, and I settled in for a long ride. Kaitlin was the second to last stop, and I was the very last stop.

"Oh hey, did you get the homework Ms. McLean gave out today? I, for one, did not because I think she needs to go into more detail when explaining things like geometry, you know? Especially since the dumbos in our class are totally oblivious to what is going on, which doesn't make concentration any easier. Oh my gosh, did you hear that…"

One good thing about Kaitlin was that there was never an awkward silence. She could just go on and on without ever needing a good response. I just had to nod my head occasionally so she knew that I was still breathing. Other than that, I was free to either have a very interesting conversation or let my mind wonder. Today I chose that latter of the options, slumping down in my seat and staring out into the darkly mysterious forests of La Push. There had been a lot of rumors that a new species of bears were out on the attack in the forests, and many parents, mine included, were restricting time out of doors because of it. I wasn't allowed to walk within a twenty yard radius of the forest without the watchful eye of my mother or father.

There had also been a lot of rumors about the supposed cult started by Samuel Uley, one of the older boys on the rez. Supposedly, he had been growing at a very fast rate, inhumanly, as his mother puts it. She was losing control of him, and he would disappear during the night and come home without a good reason. He also dumped his long time girlfriend Leah Clearwater and went for her cousin (how cheap is that?) Emily Young, who had been mauled by a bear a few years back. They recently got engaged and moved in together. My mom said that he had to be taking steroids at the rate of his growth, something that I didn't want to believe but could find no other reasonable explanation. I hated to believe rumors of any kind, but you couldn't help but listen to them.

"So are you going to ask him? To the dance?"

I turned to look at Kaitlin, who was looking back at me excitedly, with a look of disbelief and a tad of anger. He didn't even know my name, why would he consider taking me to the dance? Besides, I wasn't capable of dancing without making a complete fool of myself. When I did dance, it was in the privacy of my own room with the blinds pulled down and my sister Adrienne, out of the room.

"Pretty please?" She begged, gripping my arm with strength of steel. Seeing my look of pain, she loosened it but refused to release me. "I'm going to ask Andrew and it would be weird going without

"Why would it be weird without me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "You know that I don't go to these types of things." Ever.

She groaned theatrically. "Exactly why you should go. This will be the one time Jared," she lowered her voice on his name, something I was thankful for since I didn't want the whole word to know about it. "Will get to see you in something absolutely amazing and dramatic and majestic and enthralling and gorgeous and-"

I cut the meaningless words off. "No." I said firmly, sternly eyeing her own brown eyes. "Absolutely not. I refuse."

She sighed, her hands dropping pitifully on her lap and her lower lip jutting out as she tried to guilt me into it. Stubbornly, I crossed my arms across my chest and turned away, firm in my decision. I will not succumb to her pressure. Mom always said that peer pressure is something you walk away from, but since I had the window seat, I wasn't exactly capable of it, so turning away was the best way to go.

"Fine. I won't bother you of it anymore. I guess this means that you get to help me pick out my dress now!" She squealed excitedly and quickly started listing everything she wanted, all of which sounded completely ridiculous but could probably be pulled off by Kaitlin. She was of medium height, and had thick dark brown hair, regular tan skin and dark brown eyes. She had the slim athletic physique that carried skinny jeans rather well and loved to dress up her slim body. I sighed, tuning her out again and staring back at the forest. I watched as some kids joyfully unloaded from the stuffy bus and ran home, engrossed in getting home to freedom. I longed to trade places with them and run free (well, not totally. Run free within the restrictions, of course.) and lather in the wonderful feeling of being away from education and grouchy teachers.

Soon we were nearing my own stop, and I said my goodbyes to a still babbling Kaitlin and watched her skip home, waving as I passed by. I quickly glanced around the bus, seeing only one or two freshman and a senior slouched in the back, head bent over a book. I sighed as I made sure I had everything in my bag before carefully hoisting it up on my shoulder and edging towards the aisle, preparing for a sprint of the bus as soon as the doors swung open.

Unlucky for me, I didn't realize how quickly the rain had picked up and I was soon completely soaked, having conveniently forgotten my umbrella at home, along with a hooded jacket. I ran down the sidewalk, my wet shoes painfully rubbing up against my raw skin. I rattled the door angrily, having forgotten my key which had been next to the umbrella (interesting how things work out, right?) and yelling at Grace, my sister, to open the door before I got hypothermia. I nearly fell onto the ratty old entrance rug when my sister swung the door open and let it slam against the wall halfway into my second pounding session.

"Can't you just ring the door bell?" She asked, blowing a huge pink bubble and letting it pop before going back to chewing. "I mean, hello Kimmy. I only have so much time to let my forgetful sister in." and with that, she turned on her heel and headed towards the living room, which was adjacent to the foyer and returned to some ridiculous computer game. I sighed, removing my rain boots with quick, practiced movement and stuffing them in the bottom shelf, clearly labeled "BOOTS" from Mom's organization obsession that she thankfully got over. Of course, she didn't recover until after installing shelving on practically all the wall space and customizing organization units in all of our closets.

I sprinted up the stairs, eager to get into a warm shower and out of my wet and cold shoes. I grabbed some sweats and raced into the bathroom, locking it and stripping down. The burning hot water relaxed all the frozen muscles in my back, and I slowly felt the tension of the day go down the drain along with the rest of the water. I felt much better in my sweats too. They were sort of like a much healthier comfort food for me. Kaitlin's words had affected me more than I would admit. I have had a crush on Jared for five years, half a decade. Yet my shyness and thoughts of an embarrassing rejection inhibited me from trying to even talk to him, let alone ask him out. He didn't even know my name, which was pathetic for being in a school so small. And having been in at least three of his classes since elementary school.

I headed down the stairs, wondering if Mom was home yet. It was already six thirty, and I should have gotten dinner ready beforehand. Grace got grumpy if she wasn't fed within a proper time range.

"Grace?" I called.

"What?" She barked back, irritated that I was being a distraction.

I rolled my eyes to myself. "Did Mom say that she was going to be home late?"

"No, Mom said she was going to be back right on time!"

I smiled, turning to see my smiling mother hang up her jacket and close the garage door. She came over and affectionately pecked me on the top of my head, something almost everybody in my family could do now, and the begin to bustle about the kitchen, preparing dinner.

"How was school?"

I went over to the dinner table, the only seating arrangement in the kitchen, and sat down with a sigh. "Repetitive as always," I replied with a sigh. She didn't know about the unhealthy obsession fortunately, or I'm sure I would never hear the end of it.

She laughed lightly. "Well, it will all do you good in the long run."

I held back another sigh. That's all she ever seemed to think about; the long run. Whatever happened to living in the now? Dang it, hasn't she watched High School Musical 2? ((Ha ha! Lol tiff! I put it in just for you! –runner))

"I know, I know," I mumbled under my breath, not really meaning it. My parents both wanted at least one of their children to become lawyers, and it seemed like their three younger children held no hope, so they focused their sights on me; timid Kim. I certainly didn't have the confidence to do something like prosecuting some innocent person. I had too much heart.

"Colleges only accept people who have completed high school with average, if not better, grades, and this means putting your effort into all of your work. I remember when I was younger; I certainly put myself into work. I would study each night for three hours…"

I tuned her out as well when she began one of her when-I-was-younger speeches that she only gave to me on when I wasn't feeling the homework. They could go on for hours if her schedule let them, and she luckily didn't question me about her lectures once she was done, something I was very thankful for. It meant that I didn't have to pay attention, and that I could think about more important subjects, like Jared…

"Dinners ready!"

I nearly flopped out of my chair when her voice seemed so close. I quickly recomposed myself and got up, grabbing a plate and setting some salad on it to appease my mother.

"So you see honey," my mother said sweetly, running a hand through my thin black hair that I had inherited from her, although she made it so much more pretty with expensive hair products that she needed to quote "work the job" and "make people know that she means business." Personally, I just think that she likes to look pretty, but then again, who doesn't? I nodded absently along with my mother's words, trying to appear to look thoughtful of her wisdom. "You have it so easy. So work hard and get good grades!"

"Alright," I said, happy that my voice sounded determined. I had never been a good actress, something that frazzled Kaitlin's nerves. She was just a smooth talker, and blabbed her way through anything. I stuttered over my words and my body language always gave it away. I put some noodles and sauce on my plate before returning to my usual place at the table. I waited patiently for the rest of my family to trickle in before picking up my fork.

Soon the only noise coming from the kitchen was the clanging of forks and plates as hungry people devoured their food. I watched as my youngest sister Brianna tried unsuccessfully to make noodles less messy for herself. She was only four, so it didn't really matter right now. Evan, my only brother, who was eleven, was soon getting up for seconds. Lately he had been eating a lot more, something which did not escape my mother's notice.

"Seconds already?" My mother called to him in the kitchen; half turning to make sure he had some green on his plate.

"Yep," he said, popping the 'p'.

He was soon back to eating like there was no tomorrow at the table, and we all returned to our own plates. Like usual, I was the first to finish, and my mother, like usual, complained about this.

"Kim sweetie," she cooed. "Please eat some more. It's like you never eat anymore!"

I sighed, sitting back in my chair. "I do eat Mom. I ate all of the salad and most of the spaghetti."

She pursed her lips and said no more, delivering another string of spaghetti to her mouth. I was soon not the only person finished, and I grabbed Grace, who was the second oldest at fourteen, and dragged her towards the kitchen. It was our duty to wash and dry the plates, and she constantly tried to get out of it with horrible excuses that usually worked.

"But I have homework!" She cried.

"If you had homework," I reasoned, making sure that my parents could hear. "You would have started it earlier instead of playing games and IMing your friends on the computer after you got home from school."

"Shut it!" She hissed, furtively glancing at the dinner table, where my parents seemed to be preoccupied with what I am sure was a fascinating conversation. Brianna was only halfway done, and Evan was on his fourth plate of spaghetti.

I rolled my eyes at her and pushed her towards the counter space by the sink. She always dried and I always washed. Grace claims that she doesn't want to get her clothes wet, which I constantly snorted at. Couldn't she just change afterwards?

I started with the pots and pans first, and soon worked my way through the family's plates and utensils, but not before gagging a few times at the sight of water-logged spaghetti. I left her to drying the dishes (she had gotten distracted when her friend called her, so therefore she was way behind on the drying job) and headed towards my room, knowing the a wonderful pile of math homework eagerly awaited my attention.

I shoved the heavy load onto the desk and sat down in the old ratted desk chair and labouredly started, understanding only when it asked for my name at the top of the page. Halfway through I sat back in my chair, rubbing my hands over my eyes. I stood up, going over to the small window seat and staring into the dark green forest, wondering what exactly was out there. You can't always believe rumors, even if you hear them from several people. Were bears really inhabiting the forests of La Push? There were also reports of sightings from Forks, and some of the other Olympic Peninsula small towns and cities.

It flashed by my window before I could fully comprehend what it was. It was a speeding brown ball of fur, and I swear that I could make out four legs running in a blur and a muzzle towards the front.

I ran back to my desk, preoccupying myself with my homework, but all the symbols seem to run together in my head.

That was no bear. It had to be a wolf. There was no doubt in my mind.

((Please review if you'd be so kind. --runner))