Walk a day in a man's shoes. Walk one day in one man's shoes, and one new person opens up to you.

Walk a day in my shoes. Walk one day in my shoes and one person complex enough for two will cage herself off from the world.

I am Keinan Eztli. I am half Mexican and half Arab. A hybrid. I am someone who doesn't exactly fit in at my cousin's Quinceneras. I am someone who does not fit in perfectly with one hundred percent Arabs at Conventions. It's not like they all hate me I am just an outsider because I am not like them. But that's fine I like being on the outside. A scientist looking on rats from the outside in.

I was orphaned and sent to live with family in the L.A. ghetto. I lived with my uncle who believed in Carnals. He believed in keeping the Barrio safe from other people, rival gangs. I embraced that life, I went to school and tried to be all Latina, following the rules of the gangs I was even romantically involved with a 'homie', his name was Ricky. We were idiot teens. He though we were in love. I didn't believe that, my entire childhood had been taken away from me when I was only five. Growing up in the Bronx isn't like living in a picturesque house. Over the three year span before my uncles death I began to realize I was not all Latina, I couldn't be someone I was not, and Ricky didn't want that. The more I studied him the more I realized how disgusting, uncouth, idiotic and regular he was. He wanted to play Prince Charming; I was ready to play warrior. Not docile snow white.

I wanted someone who was not cliché. I ignored the ever famous remark 'Be careful what you wish for'.

But when you live a life like mine, like thousand of poor children across the globe, we really don't think of that, we are grateful for what we have but we lack the teachers to educate us in how grateful and for what to be grateful for.

My uncle died in a drive by shooting. I can't say I felt sorry for him he chose this kind of life and he didn't try to look for a way out. That is why I refused to stay in downtown L.A. I chose to go with the other option. To go live with some crazy widowed great-aunt in La Push on an Indian Reservation. My mother had Native American blood in her along with Aztec; I didn't know anything about this woman, much less about her existence. But I wanted out I was done trying to mold myself into a frame. I didn't want pity from all the people in the Bronx that knew my brave uncle. Pity isn't worth anything. From my entire life the lessons I got about pity was to never trust the people that give it, never accept it.

That is why I am standing here at an intersection in front of a sign that read: Welcome to Native American Reservation home of the Quileute. I had just gotten off the bus that was ripping away from here so fast the road looked clipped from where I stood in the pouring rain. I was dressed in my dark blue skinny jeans with all the signatures from my friends back…home. And my grey hooded sweatshirt that Ricky had given to me prior to hugging me and crying on my shoulder. Much to the humor of our friends who believed in the Machismo ways. My black Jansport backpack was slung over my shoulder, with a couple pairs of skinny jeans and what was left of my uncle's money. I didn't want it but his friends insisted. They had already stocked up on the weeks marijuana no money was needed yet. In the pocket was a picture of my parents and one fake gold chain with one real gold charm and a blue bead hanging from it. I didn't wear it on the bus ride out of the Bronx because on those busses I was lucky to get out unmarred. Grinding my black converse encased toe into the muddy ground I walked past the sign and onto the crack paved road, clutching a piece of paper with my Aunt's address scrawled on it.

Clearing my throat I rubbed my eyes, they threatened to close, my nap had been interrupted when the bus had screeched to a stop to avoid some stupid teenage boys. Idiots. I had paid no mind to them as they passed my window; they were shirtless and laughing matching tattoos on their shoulders. I purposely scowled at them when they looked up relishing in a few surprised looks, but the bus had moved on so I couldn't mouth my insults through the dirty glass. I took a good look around me and smiled slightly. It was beautiful here. Green everywhere, it was like a mythological forest; whoever decided that this was to be home to a bunch of Native Americans was sheer genius.

I was walking on the side of the road and extending my arm to the left I could touch a tree trunk. Looking up it was massive. Huge, and magnificent a witness of time, I watched my brown hand splay out, trying to get as much rough texture as I could. This was different than grasping the dark wood of a fence; I was making contact with a thing of majesty. Weird aren't I? It's just a tree, but when you grow up in a place like mine, where you look out your window and see concrete buildings forbidding you from leaving the hellhole, this was a kind of heaven.

The light from the overcast sky made my skin look different. It looked solid, unlike my color back home where it would fade in the winter with no sun. Here it was a beautiful light milk chocolate. Harshly distinguishable from the golden tan I was used to with the sun shining down as I walked down my stairs to go next door, this was a different kind. I ripped my hand away as the memories threatened to flood my head.

I don't like to be melodramatic. I hate cliché ness. I despise people who try to fit into a Barbie doll images. So you can imagine how lost and disgusted I felt back there in the Bronx. Trying to be a perfect Barrio girl. I guess that is why I left; I wanted to be a person I painted. Ha! Melodramatic much?

I walked on passing dirt roads here and there, looking into the cover of trees I could spot houses, with huge porches and a whole bunch of charms hanging around them. I hope my aunt had them, I wouldn't mind hearing legends. They would drown me in dreams of dream catchers instead of nightmares of drive by's. Pursing my full lips I walked more and more passing a couple of stores. I received a whole lot of odd looks, even some people who stepped towards me as if to ask who I was. But I gave them no chance as much as I would not like to admit it I am a friendly person at heart, but growing up like me smacks the friendly out of you. Damn I hate it when I have to compare my 'hard' life, but that is all I really can, it's always my 'hard' life and now.

Walking further on I noticed the trees thinning out slightly, it was beach. I frowned, I had never seen the ocean like this. The ocean I knew was polluted with homeless people waling with shopping carts carrying all their belongings. Here I go again. Growling frustrated I turned on my heel and smacked into a chest. A large firm muscular chest.

Glaring I looked up, because I had too. I mean this guy was the human equivalent of the empire state building. Or maybe I was just short.

"Hey, I'm Seth!" he was one of the boys who had jerked the bus to a stop.

Stepping back I felt my walls go up. I could feel my eyes subconsciously narrow, "Hi."

Short and cold. The concrete on the day of my uncle's death.

The idiot seemed oblivious to my tone, "Are you lost? I've never seen you before."

"Nah, I'm not lost, just visiting the beach on the day Noah is supposed to come back."

"Hey you're funny!" he said smiling brightly, "I could help you find a bus stop or something."

"No." I said sizing the guy up. He was tall and tan, hair cropped short and shirtless. I narrowed my eyes at his tattoo. Looking up again I saw genuine friendliness in his eyes. I internally sighed here I was in a new small town I couldn't go around and be a bitch. "I'm actually looking for someone." I handed him the crumpled piece of paper.

"Oh, you're looking for Mrs. Cuevas? I heard her husband died a couple years back really cool guy and he made the best Mexican food ever, seriously you couldn't get more legit even in Seattle! You like Mexican chow?" he asked as he walked.

I followed and took two steps to be even with him. I will not walk second to a man, no matter how nice, "Yeah but you kinda get tired of it after a while."

"Oh?" he asked glancing at me curiosity evident in his eyes.

My hood covered the top half of my face. I could feel him try and search the shadows but the cover of the hood and my bangs proved useful.

"You've always had Mexican?" he asked. I wanted to cut him off to stop talking but it was a harmless question so I answered.

"Eh, no, it depended on who cooked in my…house, sometimes it was Ecuadorian, or Chilean…Bolivian food was real good. But I grew up with Mexican food."

"Wow cool! So what were you like an international household?" I nearly stopped cold…international yeah kind of…household…no. Battle base, weaponry building yes.

"Sure." I said shrugging my shoulders as we turned down a dirt road.

"You live close to where I hang out, come see me sometime and I'll introduce you to my friends ok?" he said smiling brightly down at me.

"Yeah, sure." I said smiling despite myself. I had made a friend.

He stopped in front of a cabin like home, it was weathered and smelled of firewood. Charms hung everywhere a huge dream catcher was hanging above a rocking chair, and sitting in said chair was a woman who could be the wife of father time himself.

She had a long braid, gray with speckles of black. Her face was round and wrinkled but I had the feeling that she had been beautiful. She stood and was barely taller than me.

"Thank you Seth, I trust you found her by the ocean?" she asked her voice was rich and deep.

"Yep, just like you said Mrs. Cuevas."

"Such a good boy, come up and have a cookie." She said beckoning him forward with an ancient hand, holding a plate; she barely looked strong enough to support it. Seth bounded up and took the plate inhaling nearly half of the cookie mountain in less than a second.

I noticed vaguely that the rain had stopped.

With Seth distracted she turned around to face me. Her eyes were a youthful brown, and they held an uncanny intelligence. I got the feeling that she wanted me to take my hood down. I had no desire to make this woman mad, I was done with pubescent rebellion and wasn't about to get into a battle of wills with the person kind enough to house me. After all she should know about my childhood and there aren't many people out there willing to take on a kid like me.

I slowly pulled my hood back, and my braid fell around my shoulders. Identical to hers, thick and long coming to my waist, the only difference was the dark brown of my hair and the Carmel at the ends. No dye job just the way my hair was, everyone had that.

I heard a choking sound and turned to look at Seth whose eyes were wide as he pounded his chest, "Dang! You're beautiful!"

I rolled my eyes at him, "Where I come from beauty can walk the same line as poison." I said quoting my Uncle when he was in a particularly bad mood with one of his various girlfriends.

"Hybrids are always beautiful." My great aunt said, studying me with a look of pride, "Come here Keinan Eztli."

I couldn't move. She had said my name right. No one had ever since my dad died. Because no one knew how, whenever I went to conventions of Arabs (when I could get the ride) I always said my name was Eztli. It was nothing close to my first Arab name, it was an old Aztec name that meant blood. But my first name is harder to say, most pronounce it 'Key-nun', but she had said it with the perfect accent.

I walked up the wooden steps and stopped in front of her. She looked me up and down. I saw her smile slightly and I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding.

"You must be tired from you trip. Sit next to Seth, I will bring more food." At the mention of food Seth crowed happily, "Have you made tamales yet? It's almost Christmas."

Laughing in that rich voice of hers' my aunt said no and disappeared inside.

Seth turned to look at me he offered me a cookie and I took one. Biting into it I smiled slightly, it felt good to feel my lips curve.

"Hybrid huh?" Seth asked, curiosity riddled his question.

"Yeah…not that common around here?" I asked, sitting down I used my free hand to rub the wooden beam that supported the porch roof.

"Yes and no.' Seth answered back as the rain started to pour again, "So what are you?"

"Half Mexican half Arab." I said reluctantly I have mixed feelings about my nationalities.

"That is totally awesome dude."

"Yeah…" I tried for a joke, "But like a bench I ca support a family." I referred to the infamous joke, 'What's the difference between a Mexican and a fence…

Seth guffawed and I looked on in mild alarm, wondering if he would choke on the cookies and die. "You don't hate jokes like that?" he asked after calming down.

"When people joke around and don't mean it I can laugh just as hard as them, but if it's an insult you'd better beat it before I stick an M-16 where the suns don't shine." I replied smiling bigger now.

"Nice." He said chuckling he handed me another cookie. I accepted it and listened to the sound of rain when Seth's head snapped to the right. I toyed with the though of his head spinning off…psychopath much? Shaking my head to rid the thoughts I studied the side of the forest he was looking at.

"Well I think you're about to meet my friends." Seth said grinning at me, "They're all pretty cool but don't set Paul off he's the resident hot-head and Quil likes to flirt…actually they all pretty much do, except for Sam but that's cuz–"

"Well, damn Seth why don't you just tell her where we live and how to find us?" someone said. I looked on as a group of boy–no, men, came out of the woods. Like some weird Native American gods of sex, they were all shirtless and I was pretty sure they were all in front of the bus. I stiffened, I wasn't afraid of seeing them again but I wasn't in the mood for a bunch of arrogant males. Yeah, sure I guess they were all pretty hot, but I'm not looking for love here. I'm looking for another chance at life.

"I wasn't going to Jared, but she is really pretty and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't mind her coming to your house, cuz I know I wouldn't mind her coming to mine." Seth grinned at me and I had to smile back, it felt good to joke.

"Damn, not bad, not bad." The man named Jared said, eyeing me up and down. I narrowed my eyes exuding a silent warning: Back off.

He chuckled and followed the first male up the stairs; he seemed to be the leader of their little gang. I shivered as that word came to mind.

Seth laughed again and stood up to introduce me to them. I took a perch on the railing as he stepped forward and turned around to look at me.

"This is Jared, Sam, Quil, Embry, Jake or Jacob, Leah is at home, and Paul." He pointed to each one in turn, Jared winked at me, Sam eyed me curiously and nodded, Quil smiled and stole the cookie plate from Seth, and Jake gave me a smile and a wink before taking a cookie from Quil's hand. Paul however, resident hot-head looked at me once, disdain evident in his face, it was a quick fleeting glance, and my hands curled into fists. But then he looked at me again, as if taken aback, I could feel his eyes rake down my body and I hated that. He gave a raunchy grin and shifted closer.

"So you're the new girl rumors have been flying around about." A deep voice resonated I realized it was Sam's but I wasn't surprised.

"New girl yes, but rumors don't fly." I responded. He smiled briefly and Seth chuckled again. I was used to being quick with words, in the ghetto; words can sometimes be the difference between life and a bullet in your head.

"Fast mouth huh?" Paul said, I was starting to resent him, "Girl's with fast mouths are always the best in my king sized bed." Embry tried to stifle his laugh, Jacob smiled and Quil bit his lip to keep from smiling, Jared refused to curb himself and laughed out loud.

"I've got standards, Paul, resident hot-head." I said coolly leaning my head against a beam. He was starting to irritate me.

Jared laughed even harder, "That shut you up Paul?"

Paul looked at me and we met eye to eye, his jaw went slack for a moment but he regained his composure and said in a teasing voice, "I don't fit them? I beg your pardon but I've bedded just about every girl here. You can ask them the details and then see if I meet your 'standards'" he smirked and gazed at me. Not looked, gazed like he was looking at some star.

He was pissing me off, I was tired and not in the mood for some testosterone high pig. So I attacked, "The lowest I'll go is six inches and that's pushing it."

This time the entire group laughed, even Sam who seemed uptight chuckled, "Not many people can shut Paul up." He said eyeing me with a newfound curiosity.

I shrugged my shoulders and stared at the window, refusing to meet his or Paul's eyes.

Auntie Cuevas came outside with a huge glass pan of sandwiches, "I heard you boys laughing, and you want some food?"

"Always, Mrs. Cuevas." Quil said before winking and taking the pan from the laughing old woman.

"I'll go get some napkins." My aunt disappeared inside and the all the boys except Paul were sinking their teeth into bread and beef.

I blinked once and almost fell over when I realized Paul was next to me.

"I'm nothing close to six inches." He said eyeing me like I was some gum on his shoe.

"You're insecure enough to measure?" I jabbed.

"No just courteous enough to the girls who want it." He replied inching closer. He was good, but I didn't like his close proximity. I banged my converse on the one of the small wooden poles holding the railing; it was loud enough to raise some eyebrows from the boys.

"Shut up and go find someone else to stick your five millimeters in." I said before swinging around him nimbly and picking up my back pack. I turned to go through the door but was met with a wall of really nice abs ignoring the good physique I glared up at him. If Seth was empire state building, this guy was sun-high.

He was glaring at me and I glared back. Again I saw his face go soft but I tried pushing past him and he stopped me, his hands grasping my shoulders, I growled softly and he smiled wickedly, "What if I want to stick my five meters in you?"

Huh. I haven't really done any fics outside my usual category. But I have been reading a lot of Paul fics lately and I have to admit Paul is a hottie ;). But I haven't seen a fic yet with a girl like Keinan Eztli and I wanted to try it, so please review and sorry for the cliché seeming plot and stuffs.

Review plez! If you like or you don't give me a bone ;)

~pw