I do not own this story or its characters, they are property of Stephenie Meyer. Of course I wish I owned them though )

Chapter One: Meeting Jacob

I knew inside that I didn't want to live in Forks; it was simply for my mother's sake. I was not looking forward to the rain and cold that I would soon have to face. I was tempted to stay in Phoenix, but every time I looked into my mother's eyes, I knew I couldn't. She has just remarried to a man named Phil, and I was keeping them apart. I wanted her to be able to be with him and be happy, even if it was at my expense.

The first night at Forks wasn't very enjoyable. I sat in bed, wishing I were at home. But, I guess this was my home now. I'd have to get used to that. The fact that I had school in two days made it even worse. Tomorrow, I would go with my dad to his friend Billy's house. He said I should remember them, but I didn't. Probably because I blocked out those weeks I had spent fishing with my dad growing up.

I opened my eyes in the morning, and was confused at first, not yet used to my new surroundings. I heard Charlie in the kitchen.

"Bella, you up yet?" He asked," We have to leave in a few. Come eat."

"Coming," I mumbled. I knew it was not going to be a good day

I rolled out of bed, putting my pink slippers on and walked to the kitchen, sitting down at our small table. Breakfast was a little awkward, with Charlie being so quiet. But I knew I could get used to it soon enough, because I was the same way.

"Were leaving in an hour, hun. Make sure you're ready to go."

"Okay dad," I said, trying to sound excited. I didn't want him to know how miserable I was.

The ride there was short, which was a good thing. I wanted to get the day over with. We arrived in La Push around lunchtime, and two people were waiting in the driveway. One was an older man in a wheelchair. I guessed that he was Charlie. The other was a boy around fifteen years old. He must be Jacob.

"Hi Charlie, Bella," Jacob exclaimed, "It's good to see you guys."

"Hey Jake!" Charlie said, "How's the car coming?"

"Oh not that great, I'm just starting. I've got a lot of work ahead of me."

I tuned their conversation out. Cars weren't exactly my favorite subject.

"Lets go inside," Billy suggested. I guessed he could tell I was bored.

Lunch was surprisingly fun. I mostly talked with Jake. He was more fun than I guessed he would be. He seemed like someone I could definitely get along with. At least now I had someone to hang out with in this boring town. After we ate, Charlie and Billy were making plans to go fishing, so Jake and I were left to talk.

"Want to go to the beach?" He asked.

"Uhmm.."

"Come on it'll be fun, I swear." He flashed a smile and his eyes lit up. I couldn't resist. I had to say yes.

"Sure," I said smiling. I knew I was probably blushing," I just have to ask Charlie."

Before I could ask, Jake got up and walked over towards our parents.

"Do you guys mind if Bella and I go to the beach for a while?"

"Go ahead! Have fun kids!" Charlie said.

"Thanks Dad," I said as we walked towards the door.

When we got to the beach, we sat on a piece of driftwood. There was something I liked about Jake. I felt like I could be myself- I wasn't afraid of doing something embarrassing that I would regret.

"What are you thinking about?" Jake asked.

"Uhm, nothing really."

"Tell."

"You're going to laugh," I said

"I promise I wont."

"You," I blurted out, blushing. Hopefully he didn't notice my red cheeks.

He smiled, and looked away.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. Jacob and I spent most of the day at the beach, and in his garage. It was the first time I laughed in days, and hoped I could come back soon.

The sun started to set, and Jake said we should probably get back home. He grabbed my hand and we ran towards the house. We were almost there when he stopped.

"Bella."

"Yeah?"

"I had a lot of fun today."

"Me too, Jake," I said smiling.

"Do you think, maybe..you know," He said, his voice trailing off.

"What?"

"Do you want to go out sometime?"

Oh no, I thought. He's so much younger than me. What do I say? He could never be more than a friend, though. Or could he?