Forks, Washington. Really mom? Not exactly my residence of choice. Of all the places in the world, my mother had to choose the most miserable spit-ball of a town she could locate. I tried to be optimistic. I tried to view this experience as an exciting new adventure. I, after all, had lived in the same house my whole life. However, this made me a little reluctant to leave the only place I'd ever called home.

As we winded through the maze of tall, dark forest, I found myself growing more and more homesick for LA, where the sun always shone, even through the rain, and everyone looked like movie stars. I tried to be excited, I really did. But inside, I couldn't calm this stirring sensation. I couldn't control my urge to take control of the car and drive as fast as I could away from this place. I couldn't help but feel that I was driving towards a place I didn't want to be,

"This will be fun, Charlie." My mother smiled weakly. My distaste must have been wriggling through the cracks of my disguise. I smiled as enthusiastically as I could and nodded, then pretended to stare in anticipation through the raindrops racing across the passenger side window.

It wasn't that I didn't like Forks. I loved the forests all around me, and one of my favorite things to do was dance in the rain considering we didn't see much of it in LA. But I had a feeling that I was going to get very sick of both those things in a hurry when surrounded by these damp forests and constant drizzle for any long period of time. I watched the trees slide by like daggers against the gloomy skies and stared into the abysmal darkness between the trees. The rain fell off and on every half an hour or so and forced us to make periodic stops to check the straps and ties and ensure that the last of our things weren't getting drenched in the back of the truck. Most of our belongings were already in the new house in Forks. Mom had gone ahead of me for weeks, moving boxes back and forth along the coast in big trucks. She was definitely a do-it-yourselfer and I too had inherited that trait.

I tried to imagine the new house as she had described it to me. She seemed sure I would love it. An old wood worker had lived there before us. His house had been his masterpiece. Apparently, there was wood everywhere and big windows that opened outward instead of up and down. He had designed it to blend in with the forest and work in harmony with nature, which in translation meant that he never cut down a single tree on the property and the back yard was a forest, literally. It sounded beautiful and dreaming about it lightened my mood. Still, I was torn between my thirst for adventure and my resistance of change.

The world began to grow dark as the shrouded sun crept down in the west. I swayed in and out of consciousness and the rain whispered lullabies on the roof.

"We're here." My mother's voice reached into my subconscious and pulled me back to the surface. I blinked groggily and peered out the windshield in the cones of yellow cast by the headlights. We were there, wherever there was.

The house was covered in wood just as she had said, and set deep in a cluster of tall pines. The porch light was on and smoke trailed from the chimney. We pulled what we wanted from the back of the truck and left the rest for the morning. The driveway had a big overhang that would protect our things from the rain until the sun came up, if that actually happened here.

I followed my mother and shuffled under the porch. The concrete patio had strange twisting lines in it unlike the normal square grooves. There were tarps and damp boxes scattered about and two wooden rocking chairs against the house further to the side. I stared at the chairs and tried to make out the shapes in the carvings while my mother unlocked the door.

"Who's here?" I asked, realizing that my mother wouldn't leave the fireplace burning while we were away.

"Billy Black; he's been watching the house for me while I was going back and forth." She answered and pushed the thick door open.

I looked at her funny. "You let a stranger watch our house?"

"He's not a stranger, Charlie. Billy is an old family friend; I've known him since before you were born." She threw me a look that was intended to make me guilty for not trusting her judgment. It slid off like the rain drops on my coat, unaffecting me underneath.

The house was warm and smelled of roast. I inhaled and my eyes went to work picking across the living room, then the kitchen over the open bar, and as far down the hallway as I could see. There were people in the kitchen. A woman with dark hair and skin stood near the stove and basted a massive chunk of meat. She turned and smiled at us. Her face was heavy with tragedy, but her smile was warm.

"That's Sue Clearwater; she's a friend of Billy's. Her husband was Harry Clearwater, another family friend." Mom whispered to me. I nodded.

"Was?" I asked without taking my eyes off of Sue.

"He died this year." Mom replied.

"Welcome back." Sue called as she maneuvered around the bar and up the step into the kitchen.

"Thanks, Sue." Mom dropped her bags and hugged the woman. They both turned to me. "This is my daughter, Charlotte."

Sue hugged me. Slightly surprised, I dropped my things and hugged her back.

"It's so good to meet you, Charlotte." She smiled. "Wow…" Her warm hand touched my face. "You look so much like your father."

My mom smiled.

"You knew my father?" I didn't know much about him but I had known he had lived here when mom met him. I was surprised and slightly upset by his mention.

"Yes, he was popular around here." She chuckled.

"Yeah, popular for causing trouble." Mom chimed in.

I went silent as they reminisced. My father was a ghost to me. I only knew what he looked like from the few pictures I had of him.

A heavy set man in a wheel chair enters the room. Sue and mom turn to help him over the step between the kitchen and living room.

I assume this is Billy. There is something incredulous about him. I can see the secrets in his eyes, in his worn russet features.

"Billy, this is Charlie." Mom introduced me.

He wheeled closer to me, staring at me with the same intense stare I must have been giving him.

"It's good to meet you, Charlotte." He smiled, but his words were distant as if he were speaking while concentrating on something else. My whole body shivered. "I've heard so much about you."

I shook myself from my daze and put on a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Billy." I leaned down and hugged him.

"She's so tall…" He commented, speaking to my mother. "Just like James."

This talk of my father set me back again. I was exhausted and it was just too much to take. I'd never met anyone beside mom who knew him, and I'd especially never heard his name spoken so casually.

My mother caught me staring at the floor. "Charlie, your room is up stairs. Why don't you go get settled in?"

I nodded and picked up my things. "Excuse me." I slid past the three of them and made a b-line for the staircase.

The stairs were in sight, I was home free. I sighed, moved down the hallway toward them and into the shadow.

A figure swung around the corner and nearly collided with me. I gasped and dropped my bags. As tall as I was, I still had to look up to find the face of the stranger. His hair was short, his expression crude, his eyes deep like Billy's and yet seemingly even more secretive. He must have been almost seven feet tall. My head fell back and my eyes went wide.

He stared straight down at me and I up at him for what felt like five minutes.

"I'm sorry." He took a step back and swooped down, scooping up my bags in one hand. "I didn't mean to startle you. You must be Charlotte."

My name sounded weird when he said it. "That's me."

He held my bags out and I took them from him, one in each hand. "Thanks." My shoulders slumped when he let go. Though they were heavy and I was pretty strong for a girl, he handled them with ease. His massive arms bulged under his T-shirt. He made me want to run up the stairs and never come back.

"No problem. I'm Jacob, Billy's son." I watched his white teeth flash behind his lips.

"It's nice to meet you, Jacob." I smiled and tried not to be awkward. "Excuse me…" I slithered along the wood walls on my back and crept past him toward the stairs.

I could feel his dark eyes on me until I was off the stairs and out of sight. I practically had to pry myself apart in order to get my body to relax. Something about him made me uneasy.

There was only one room on the top floor so it wasn't hard to figure out which one was mine. My belongings were in labeled boxes strewn about the bare wood floors. My bed was pushed up against the corner near the window and covered with my blankets.

I dropped my bags on the bed and collapsed beside them. I stared at the open door across the room that led into the hall. Voices trailed into the room. I sighed, exhausted.

There was another door; a bathroom, and inside that, a closet. It was strangely shaped but fairly large and nice.

I put my toothbrush and toiletry bag on the counter and shut the door. The room felt like a tower with its wide windows on three walls. The windows had no blinds. This was odd to me. Then, I realized there was no point in hiding behind a curtain when you had no neighbors to see in, especially on the second story.

Voices still trailed up the stairs. It sounded as if more people were there.

I changed and went downstairs.

I found my mom in the kitchen with Sue, unpacking dishes and putting them in the cupboards while Sue tended to the food. She turned and straightened herself, then smiled to me. "Hey Charlie, how do you like your room?"

"It's great." I smiled back. My smile faded. Something was missing.

"Where's Gryphon?" I asked suddenly.

"He's in his crate on the back patio." She answered. I fumed inwardly but kept quiet.

Gryphon was very special to me. He wasn't so much my dog because he wasn't a dog at all. He had wandered onto a friend's property in California when I was young and he was just a puppy. He was almost entirely black with light blue eyes and white patches along his underside and chest. Gryphon was my wolf.

Gryphon was like family to me. I hated when my mother left him outside. I turned quickly on my heel and found my way to the back porch. I called to him and he stood, pressing his wet muzzle to the door of his crate. I opened the door and he shot out, twirled around me several times and sniffed me all over. He then rocked back on his hind legs, stood nearly as tall as me and licked my face. He curled his paws over my shoulders and I hugged him, burying my face in his fur. He smelled of damp pines and dirt.

"I missed you…" I mumbled. He rested his head on my shoulder, and then nuzzled his face into my hair.

He followed me inside with his head low, sniffing and swaying nervously. I moved through the kitchen and he followed close to me. As we came around the corner, he stopped for a moment and his fur stood on end. I sat on the carpet by the fireplace and leaned against the couch. Gryphon slinked across the room and trotted up to me, then drove his face into the ground and threw his long body down against my leg. I stroked his face, across his shoulder and along his side. He lifted his head and stared warily across the room. I looked up.

I had failed to notice Jacob sitting at the dining table across the room. He stared at me. I smiled but he seemed dazed, off in another world. I swallowed hard and looked down at Gryphon.

Sue announced that dinner was ready and we all gathered at the table. I sat at one end with mom and Sue to my left and Billy to my right. Jacob sat at the other end.

I sat with my shoulders slumped and eyes on my food. I ate quickly while Mom, Sue and Billy chatted.

"Maybe tomorrow, Jake can show Charlotte around." Billy's voice broke into my thoughts. My eyes shot to him and then Jacob who stared intently at me from across the table.

"Sure," Jacob glanced to Billy. "I don't mind."

I didn't know what to say. Everyone watched me. Jacob terrified me. I grinned and nodded, and then pretended to eat. My stomach churned.

After dinner, I escaped to my room and burrowed into my bed. I was exhausted but couldn't find sleep. The rain picked up gently and tapped on the roof and window sills. I lay awake under my blankets and listened to the whispers of the wind and the rain. Jacob's deep dark eyes plagued my mind and despite my efforts to concentrate on anything else, I couldn't shake them. What was it about him that bothered me so much? He seemed nice, yet danger hung about him like the rain hung over Forks.

I woke at 8AM and got dressed. I stared out my windows at the forest and the mountains in the distance. The clouds were still thick, but the rain seemed to have slowed a little overnight.

Mom came upstairs and stood in the doorway. "Some time this week, we should go into Port Angeles and see if we can't find you some curtains."

"I don't really mind," I turned and answered. "It's not like there's anyone around to see in."

She seemed surprised but smiled and nodded. "Jacob is downstairs."

I shuddered. "Okay, I'll be down in a second."

I wandered my still cluttered room and dug through boxes uselessly, aimed at nothing. I took a deep breath. I could hear his voice coming up the stairs. He was in the house; in the kitchen. I heard Gryphon scuttling about, his nails rapped on the tiles as he twirled around their legs.

I checked myself in the mirror, grabbed my jacket and headed downstairs.

Jacob leaned against the counter with Gryphon at is heels and a cup of coffee in his hands which mom had undoubtedly forced on him. He didn't drink it, the steam just rose before him as he stared in the way that he did at me. His dark eyes collided with mine and chills traced my spine.

I could survive one day. He wasn't mean. He was just terrifying.