Chapter One

I woke up with a start, a horrible nightmare I couldn't remember disturbing my slumber, but that wasn't the end of it. A horrible pain wretches its way through my body, a fire burning through me with a greedy desire for a slow, vicious death. That's what it feels like; dying. My body convulses in agony, an agony that swallows you up and dug its nails in to your core, demanding you break under it. My bones were shattering beneath my skin as they stretch under the pull of an invisible force. I swear, my skin is melting off of me, oozing to the cherry wood of my bedroom floor. I do not cry out, I can not cry out, I'd wake the rest of my household and that would be far worse than whatever was going on with me. Instead, I hold my jaw tight, my teeth grinding together fiercely, and I wonder how much more pressure it would take before they'd shatter. I have to do something, anything. There is something wrong with me. Something very, very wrong. If I didn't leave now, I don't know what would happen. It'd be bad; that's all I know.

I shove off my bed, crumbling to the floor. My legs are made of jelly, a mushy mixture of shifting bones and gooey muscles, but I push passed it; I can't stay here. God, why is it so fucking hot? Sweat pours off of me as if I'd been dipped in the ocean, my perspiration forming puddles as I stumble in to the hall. Maybe its me, maybe that's why my skin feels as if it's boiling and slipping right off; my temperature feels higher than humanly possible for me to still be breathing. I don't have time to contemplate this as another round of raw pain rips down my spine. I feel as if I just broke in to two pieces and I shove my fist in my mouth to muffle the cry that broke passed my lips. Angry tears trickle down my face, sizzling against my cheeks. In the moonlight streaming through the windows, I could see thin clouds of steam billowing from my body.

I struggle to make it to the stairs, but I manage with diving down them; I stick the landing with my face. I ignore the dull ache from my new found injury that pales in comparison to the misery tearing my body apart. I force my arms to push me from the floor as I scramble out the back door, needing out of this house. Hot, muggy air is what greets me, not so welcoming at all. South Florida's latest rain has left the atmosphere wet and heavy, drowning me in its sticky humidity. My frizzing hair sticks to my cheeks, my clothes clinging to me like a second-skin, and I feel a new round of sweat drip down my back.

I don't stop, I can't stop, I just move. I run and run, run far away. My feet carry me beyond my neighborhood, until the dim lights of civilization are mere dots in the distance. I'm not exactly sure where I end up, just that I've expelled every last once of energy that had been left in my body. I crumble in to the moist dirt, the soil cool against my shins. I finally allow myself to scream, cry, and vocally free myself from the pain. The dark skies clear, allowing the full moon's white spotlight to wash over my form. That's when the pain becomes almost unbearable, my brain bursting in to flames as my body seizes. I scream out, but suddenly, it sounds more like a howl.

"Where were you last night?"

My head snaps up the puddle of drool that's accumulated over the course of my nap. How long had I been asleep? I don't remember passing out, but then again, I don't remember much of this day. I do have recall, with vivid clarity, Mr. Haji assigning the whole class outlines for the new chapter we're starting Monday and so far, my notes aren't looking too stellar. Well, they're not my best; just lazy. I can only thank the Heavens that it's Friday; I've been exhausted all week and my mind is wandering to other things… like the fact I've been turning in to a damn dog for the past few weeks… but whatever, no biggie, school comes first. A yawn scratches its way passed my lips as I rub the sleep out of my eyes.

I hear a sudden tapping and realize that Diane said something to me. She must have woke me, which I don't know if I appreciate or not. I'm still tired. I look over her lazily, waiting for her to say something. She looks like she's waiting for something; Jesus, this woman is going to kill me. Well, by the look on her face, it looks like she wants to. Diane glares at me from the other side of the kitchen, daggers or something in my direction. I know I've already annoyed her by setting up my work on her bar, but I'd hoped this would prevent me from sleeping. As it turns out, my textbook has become quite comfortable over the last few weeks. Actually, everything is comfortable when you get less than an hour of sleep tonight. I can't just ignore my school work, especially science. Lord knows what would happen should I fail; my father, a rocket scientist, would blow the fuck up. Pun intended.

"Did you say something?" I ask languidly, shoving my hair off my face.

"You heard me, Shiloh. Where were you last night? I heard a ruckus."

"Could you describe the ruckus?" I deadpan, my joke falling upon humorless ears.

I don't know she manages to not even crack a smile; that movie is a classic. Glancing over to her, I see how un-amused she truly is as I meet her livid hazel eyes. The angry look pinches to furious, her fists plant themselves firmly on her hips and the glare shifts from 'I'm-so-irritated-with-you' to 'I'm-going-to-murder-you-in-your-sleep'. I sigh, dropping my head back in to my folded arms. I'm way too tired for her bullshit; can she antagonize me like, later or something? She shifts her body to me, the accusation oozing in to the air with the same intensity as her ever-lasting hatred for me.

"I went to check on you the other night... guess what I found?" She pauses as if there's something dramatic to be revealed. I wasn't here. I know that. "Your bed was empty and you were gone; this isn't the first time either. You've been sneaking out."

I stare blankly at her, waiting for her to make a point that'll actually matter to me. I'm almost eighteen, I can leave when I please. Besides, who is she to make a fuss over anything? I was pissed when she turned my father in to an adulterer, but I kept my mouth shut 'out of respect' as dear old dad called it. I yawn, looking at the clock and deciding I'll finish this assignment after a goodnight's sleep; if I get one tonight. I close my textbook over my notebook. When I look back at Diane, her face is a bright red, giving her white-blonde hair an off-tone appearance. With her shoulders shaking in anger and the expression on her pointy, little face, all you need is smoke blowing out of her ears to make this comical.

"There's a strict curfew in this house and you have broken it more than once. I'm going to speak to your father about this and the attitude you've been walking around here with."

I shrug, dumping my stuff in to my backpack. She huffs and stomps back to the sink. The water starts to run from the tap followed by the furious scrubbing of dishes. I glance over at her, surprised by how angry she can make cleaning sound. I shuffle my bag over my shoulder and make my way to the stairs when I hear her throw the scrubbing brush down. I glance back as Diane whips around, her face still pinched real tight.

"Don't think I won't tell him because I will,"

I contain the eye roll, "Okay?"

"Tonight. I'm going to tell him. Tonight."

Shaking my head, I turn back around and make it halfway up the stairs, my patience for this woman wearing thin. I hear the water shut off and her scampering heels as she stomps to the landing, her pitch-y voice grating against my ears like nails on a chalkboard. I cringe as she shouts a final threat, "I'm going to expose you for the conniving brat you are! You'll be grounded for months!"

"Jesus H. Christ, woman, take a fucking Valium."

I'm not sure if she hears me because I slam my door shut behind me and topple on to my bed. The world fades out before I even register my head meeting my pillow.

Saturday morning, I find myself sitting across from my father in the dining room. I sit, cross-armed, in the nine-hundred dollar chair Dearest Diane 'had to have'. Several others occupy the long table, the oak wood gleaming as the morning sun streams through the open blinds. I know what's coming, I've been expecting it, but that doesn't mean I didn't hope my dad wouldn't try to get rid of me like he did my mother. I contemplate whether or not to throw it in his face; it's like it'll make a difference.

"Shiloh, I think it'd be for the better if you went to live with your mother."

"Cut the crap, dad, just admit it; the whore hates me and I've been ruining her ideal family from day one."

Dad runs a hand through his full, yet graying-brown hair. Tired eyes plead with me to be reasonable, to work with him, but I'm not feeling so feasible. I was six when he left my mom and he'd been cheating on her with Diane four years before that. She'd been his assistant, a pretty little thing back then. She's not so pretty anymore, her face growing more angular and pointy with age. Then again, I've never found the appeal when compared to my mother. Clearly, I'm biased, but you don't screw around with office skanks when you have a wife and child waiting for you every night.

"You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

"And you fought so hard for custody."

Shaking his head, dad stands and paces the dining room. The house he made his new life in is really extravagant. A kitchen any professional chef would kill to have, a den and a living room, a dining room, a fucking study, and what else? I mean, besides the back porch, a balcony for the master bedroom, and three regular size rooms: all complete with their own bathrooms. It's a beautiful structure, even I can't deny that, but it's never felt like a home. I never a had chance to get comfortable because Diane lurks around every corner, finding a new excuse to keep me away. You'd think she'd like the fact that I was sneaking out. Dad leans against a chair across from me, his eyes piercing in to mine, but I don't look away. He's testing me right now, using his stupid psychology to see if I'll break under pressure. Even before the supernatural side of me kicked in, I was a dominant person. I meet his gaze head on and hold it even after my eyes are dry, not blinking.

It's no surprise when he breaks first, passing it off as if he's stressed out. He pinches the bride of his nose, tilting his head back, "Have you been sneaking out?"

"Let's be honest here, if you can bear speaking the truth for once, pops; your mind is made up. The step-monster wants me gone, so I'm gone and you get a second-shot at a miracle family. Let's hope you don't fuck this one up."

"You're so unreasonable; I have no idea where you got that from."

"Unreasonable would be begging to stay, wouldn't you agree?"

He sighs, withholding the glare I know he wants to send me. Referring to when he tried to get my mom to take him back, something Diane doesn't know about.

"I know you're upset, resentful, whatever it may be, but you know I love you. Regardless of what happened between Janice and I, it doesn't change the fact that you're my daughter."

Rolling my eyes, I throw a reply over my shoulder as I head upstairs to pack my bag.

"Only by blood, not by choice."

I'm shipped off the next day, loaded on a plan and sent away without so much as a tearful departure, not that I expected one.

I arrive in the rainy airport of Seattle, shaken awake by the pudgy flight attendant. My headphones have gone silent since my playlist ran out of songs. Picking at the sleep in the corner of my eye, I notice how pale I am. I'll fit right in, but that doesn't change the fact I've spent the last eleven years in a place known as the 'Sunshine State' and have nothing to show for it.

"Jesus, you'd think living in Florida, I'd have a natural tan." I mutter.

The elderly lady next to me glances at me, "I'll say."

I smirk in please. This woman was a riot the entire flight; she's visiting her sons in Seattle for her hundred and second birthday, but though aged, she doesn't look a day over eighty. Not to mention, she's as sharp as a tack. She told me all about her life and heritage: I can officially say, I've met a full-blood Irish woman whose seen it all. Once the plane hits the ground, I pass her the floral bag from the high compartment and bid hera farewell. I grab my own luggage before I file in to the crowd until I can break away. Navigating through the airport, I eventually find my mother with a giant white sign with 'daughter' scrawled across in big letters. I roll my eyes as I waltz up to her. She beams, pulling me in to her arms.

"So original; truly, I'm blown away."

Laughing, Janice pulls away and gives me a once over. Shaking her head in disbelief, she yanks me in to another hug. It's only been a few months since I visited last, but I understand. I was all the way across the country and I only see her for a few short months over the summer.

"You look so much like me; people ought to think we're sisters."

I smile, "Well, I look old and you look young so we just might be able to pull it off."

Smirking, mom takes one of my suitcases as she leads me in to the nasty, yet cool weather of wonderful Washington. It's not so bad here, I kind of enjoy the icy wind that nips at my nose. I hardly hear her as she jabbers on for a moment about her promotion at the local market, saying she's a manager now. I congratulate her, offering small acknowledgements to keep her going, but I just want to keep the conversation off of me. I'm way to tired to have a functional social interaction. Put the fact that I'm drained from a less-than-exciting flight, and oh yeah, I almost busted out in to a pooch. It wasn't easy fighting off the transformation; I sat in the bathroom for two hours, moaning and groaning. I didn't think I could pull it off, but it was worth half the plane thinking I'd been getting off the whole time.

"So, honey," She starts as we drive to her town of silverware. I smile at my joke, the grey clouds thundering in agreement. Who names a small town after their eating utensils, seriously? How lame can they be? "How are you?"

"Same old. I'm a bit disappointed I had to leave Florida before I could get a tan, but besides that, I guess I'm just really exhausted."

"Oh, Shy, you've always hated the sun. You're going to love Forks."

I nod, surveying the threatening skies. I could learn to like the rain, if it doesn't cause the air to grow sticky and humid. "Maybe… I mean, I'm not exactly a fan of heat so I guess I could agree with you; it'll be better than Florida."

Smiling, mom glances at me quickly before focusing on the road as droplets start to fall from the sky.

"That's the spirit!"

Mom's house isn't anything to talk about. It's a classic, two-story town house nestled a mile or so outside of town in the trees. It's quaint and welcoming, not to mention the forest is my new backyard which I not only cherish, but am also undeniably thankful for. My nightly renegade behavior will be much easier now.

Showing me through the front door, we're immediately in the familiar long kitchen with an opening space that looks in to the decent-sized living room consisting of a three-seater couch that's older than I am. Her newest addition is a fake tree sitting in the corner between the love-seat and nineteen-eighties television. Through the doorway, is the dining room with the same high table and chairs I grew up with. To the left of that is hallway and a staircase. At the end of the hall is the master bedroom or, mother's room. A half-bathroom sits to the right, but the mast bath is nestled up by her closet. Upstairs is my room which she hasn't touched. It remains the same dreary colors I endured during the summer and it shall stay that way; comfortably bland.

"I'm going to go check up on the store; is there anything you want to do for dinner?"

"Nah… I'm just gonna unpack and crash. I've got my first day of school tomorrow."

Her eyebrows raise and she crosses her arms over her chest, "Really? You don't have to start right away; you can wait till you get settled."

"No, I rather just go. I mean, I'm starting near the end of the year, I'm the new kid, and this is small town. I rather be there for the unveiling of the rumors that are sure to be nothing, but juicy."

Mom smiles weakly and I can tell she has a question she wants to ask, but she closes her mouth. Nodding quickly, she forces another grin and heads for the front door as I stand at the top of the stairs. I hear her scoop up her keys and purse. The front door opens, closes, and I'm left alone. Letting out a breath, I make my way to my room. A full-size bed rests peacefully against the wall; one nightstand beside it adorning a lamp, alarm clock, and various pictures of my parents and I back in the old days.

On the opposing wall, I've got my desk and closet. A coat rack sits in the corner generously guarding my beanies and scarves that had no right being in Florida. My favorite fuzzy rug sits in the center of the room and I purposely drag my feet along it on my trek through the room. In the other corner, closest to the door, my guitar collects dust along with a few skateboards hung on the wall. I smirk at the old memories, knowing damn well my childhood skills are a few notches below rusty.

I unpack, halfheartedly hanging my clothes and situating for a permanent living space, but I have plenty of time for that. When the bulk of my things are put away, I strip down for a shower. Once cleaned up, I dry my hair before I climb under the blankets. Setting an alarm for six-thirty tomorrow morning, I nestle in to the covers. Though a bit chilled at first, my unnaturally warm skin heats up the sheets soon enough and I'm whisked away in to the wonderful world of dreamland.

An incessant beep, beep, beep is the lullaby I awake to. I groan, slamming a hand around on my nightstand in search of the snooze button. However, after several missed attempts, I accept fate and force myself to sit up. Rubbing my eyes, I growl at the damn blaring plastic, having no remorse when I finally smack it and it shatters beneath my palm. I groan, knowing I'll have to get that replaced at some point before my mom notices. I broke about six alarm clocks at my dad's house and Diane found the remnants, using that against me as well.

Standing, I wobble half-awake in need for another shower. I turn the knob and expect hot water. I didn't think about it right away, but when the pipes are cold, it takes a minute for water to get hot. Icy water whips my back like a lashing and I jump back with a shriek, fully alert. I glare at the shower head, pointing a menacing finger at it; warning it to screw with me again and it'll get the same treatment as that damn alarm clock. It eventually warms, the steam fogging the mirror when I finally emerge.

Brushing my teeth, hair, and slapping on some eyeliner, I throw on an outfit before I bound down to the kitchen. Mom's snoring can be heard from the top of the stairs, but I don't pay any attention to it as my feet sizzle against the cold hardwood floors. Pausing, I quickly slip on a pair of socks to mask the unusual noise. I cut up an orange and move my meal to the table. I grab my converse sneakers as I pick at my breakfast and tie the laces tight. My feet dangle an inch or so off the floor as I finish up. I pull my glossy, raven hair over one shoulder as I stare at the clock. I've got more than an hour before first period at eight-fifteen.

Standing, I grab my backpack and decide to just get there early; maybe I'll have some time to explore. Pasted to the front door with a piece of tape is an envelope with my name scribbled across the front; I can't believe I hadn't noticed before. I pluck it off the wood and peel open the flap. Within it, I find a set of car keys and a sticky note. I quickly read through the note, smiling at the 'I love yous' and 'welcome homes'.

Smiling, I glance over my shoulder down the hall where an exceptionally loud snort comes from my mother. Outside, I find a rather beat-up, faded blue Volkswagen beetle. I jump in the car, ditch my backpack on to the passenger seat, and rev the engine; grinning with please as it groans to life. I check the A.C. and am pleasantly surprised that the rust-mobile actually has a working heating system, not that I need one. I smile back at the house, sending my mother silent thank yous as I pull out of the driveway.

So, apparently, I'm not the only new kid. In fact, I'm sort of the late-new kid. Some Disney princess chick swooped in sometime in January of last year so my appearance in town isn't all that exciting. The girl is to die for, judging by some of the guys' small talk in the halls. Alas, some hot local dude, who forgets to brush his hair, hit it off with her and they're inseparable now. Totally in love. So romantic. Perfect for each other.

More like gag.

By lunch, I'm not old news which is quite shocking. I also haven't been the most friendly person either, not that I've ever been too sociable. Even back in Florida, I lurked Coral Springs High on my own, a loner. I never minded it that way. People suck, that's just a fact of life. I don't need the drama, I got a hearty helping of that before I could even comprehend what it was. Petty things have never bothered me either, like now, sitting alone at a lunch table. I'm content, with a novel, music, and a bottle of water, I couldn't be happier... until something shifts in my chest and I have the strongest urge to rip someone's head off.

I feel myself tense, the hairs on my body standing on end. My skin ripples in preparation for a change, but I battle it and tug my sweatshirt on. I readjust my position to see what stirred the sudden desire for fire. With a subtle glance around the room, nothing seems out of the ordinary... then I see them. A group of pale young adults glide to the table at the center of the room, capturing the attention of everyone around me. I don't know what's so special about them, they're just as pale, if not paler than everyone here. I'm staring and I don't realize it until several pairs of eyes the color of gold flicker in my direction.

Something primal and wild stirs, the overwhelming urge to kill them spurs on. However, the more logical side reminds me I am in a high school and murder is still illegal.

They watch me with a strange intensity, perhaps I convey the same. I turn away, trying to focus on my novel. When suddenly, I hear the cafeteria doors open again. I look up to see the duo I've heard about all day strutting through the room when they pause dramatically. I cock an eyebrow then grimace when the dude who doesn't own a brush stares intently at me. Something registers on his face and my ears perk up as leans closer to the beyond-average girl beside him. I don't see why there was such a fuss about her; I mean, she's not ugly, but she's not exactly… well, any of the people in the center of the room. I watch them from the corner of my eye as they rush over to the table of pretty people, their scent wafting over to me. I refrain from gagging; they smell like death well-done.

"I can't hear her thoughts; it's just static."

My eyebrows come together in confusion; how would he know what I'm thinking? What, is he like, a part of the X-Men or something?

"I didn't see her coming either."

Oh, shit; someone alert the media: we've got a five-cent fortune teller on our hands. Yeah, I think I'm going to call bullshit… then again, those eyes are crazy weird…

"Maybe we should go talk to her," someone suggests, but I certainly don't want anyone talking to me. I send off my best 'back-off' vibe and bury my nose in to my book. For some strange reason, I still hear her get closer, her boyfriend's scent tags along as they approach. Moments later, seats slide out in front of me and I glance up with irritation. The girl offers a smile, but it slips as I narrow my eyes at her. Awkwardness pours off of this chick like the smell of stale blood and dirt from the man beside her. I fixate my line of sight on him, not blinking, as he does the same.

"Hello, I'm Edward Cullen, this is Bella Swan, and we came over to welcome you to Forks." He says, his tone much kinder than the look in his eye.

"You're a little late; welcoming committee over there already got to me." I say, nodding over to a table of teens who stare openly at the exchange. Nosy assholes.

The dark-haired girl with the skin of an albino glances back, a look of recognition passing over her face.

"Oh, that's Jessica. She's not bad."

"She's not good either."

I dip my head back in to my book before I notice Edward lean over to her. He whispers in her ear for a moment, but too low for me to catch. She looks surprised for a moment before slowly standing and nodding. Edward glances at her reassuringly before looking back at me. The mood shifts dramatically.

"Do the others know about you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, but I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your freaky eyes fixated on your little admirer over there," I pause before crinkling my nose, "And maybe investing in a different cologne; you smell like a funeral home."

A large burly dude from across the room booms with laughter and I glance beyond Edward to see he shares the same strange eyes. Someone shushes him and for a minute, I consider them having superhuman senses too. Something tells me I should know what they are, though no pieces fall in to place. I'm left with a blank. A lot of blanks, actually.

Edward nods slowly, "I'm sorry to have offended you; that was not my intention."

"I'd prefer you keep me out of your intentions, worry about your own secrets, and we won't have a problem."

Glancing at me, Edward stands up and pushes in the chair. "I'm not the only one with secrets."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes going completely focused before he lets out a calming breath. I watch as the color flickers from amber to carbon powder and back again. I shoot up from my seat out of reflex, prepared to defend myself. The chair scrapes along the floor, the cafeteria falling silent. Edward quickly looks away, blinking rapidly.

"Like I said, worry about your own secrets." I snap, snatching up my crap and storming out of the cafeteria.

Third-Person

Edward returns to his table, glancing between his family with a look of concern on his face. They all await his response on what happened patiently. Bella's eyes are wide with confusion as she is the only one who didn't hear the conversation.

"Well, what'd she say?" Emmett demands.

Edward looks out the window as she saunters off, perplexed by the new girl. "I don't think she knows anything about us… or herself for that matter, but her instincts tell her not to trust us. I'm almost certain she's a shifter, but she could be a Child of the Moon. I can't be sure unless I get in her head."

Jasper tags in, "Her emotions are incredibly strong. She was confused and enraged by us, but she kept control. It's quite impressive, actually."

"Well, I guess that explains why I didn't see her coming… When should we tell the Quileutes?" Alice questions.

Bella sits up straighter. "Jacob said he was stopping by with his dad tonight. I can tell him then."

Edward stiffens and tights his hold just slightly on the human girl, but says nothing. He nods, "Perhaps, I should join you tonight; I'll tell him. He can pass the notice on to Sam."

Emmett grows bored with the incident, now that it's calmed down.

"Well, that's settled. Who wants to go hunting after school?"