Disclaimer: Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer. I do not own anything except the OCs.

I know people don't understand what a "good girl" like Nahti Newblossom is doing hanging around with a "bad boy" like Paul Lahote but as far as I'm concerned it shouldn't be any of their concern.

For one, I'm a regular person – I tell the occasional lie to get out of doing things, I'm not always nice or in a good mood, and I'm certainly not as pure as people seem to think. Just because I take academics seriously and volunteer at the hospital, some people on the rez are ready to make a saint. I find it limiting.

Any time someone 'catches' me doing something that they don't approve of, they think it's their place to tell me that it's not what 'good girls' do. They remind me that I don't want to turn out like my older sister, Nayla – pregnant at 16 and still running wild five years later. Considering it's me and Grams that have been raising Nayla's son for the last 5 years, I'd say their warnings are pretty unnecessary. Don't get me wrong, I adore my nephew Thomas. I just know that I'm not trying to have a child of my own until well after medical school. But none of this seems to occur to other people. They still think they need to be the ones to tell me about the perils of teen pregnancy if they see me standing within even ten feet of a boy that isn't a cousin. But the absolute worst is when someone sees me with Paul.

Paul has a reputation. It's not completely what you'd call 'bad' but it leans in that direction. I'd like to point out, it's not even really his fault, considering the fact that it started before he was even born. Paul's mother, Linda, was a lot like my sister Nayla. Beautiful and restless – always in search of some intangible thing that can't be found on the reservation. She left when she 16, without finishing high school and with very little money. She started living in Seattle where she met Paul's father, Jack. They had a volatile relationship; both liked to drink and argue. By 17, Linda was pregnant with Paul and by the time he was 6, she was done being a parent. She was back on the road looking for that intangible thing. Jack realized that he couldn't raise a kid on his own and returned to LaPush. Sill drinking and now more angry and bitter than ever. They were the kind of family that everyone talked about poorly without a single care as to how it would hurt the innocent child.

Jack hardly put up a protest when my Mama, who had been Paul's first grade teacher, intervened and started making Paul stay over at our house whenever Jack was on one of his binges. Daddy would argue with her sometimes about her love of "strays" but Mama hated to see anyone in need. She would tell us, "if you have the power to make someone's life better, you had better do it or you're not nearly as human as you think you are". She lived by that motto and she died by it too.

Back then, Paul was quiet and brooding - an unsettling combination for a young child. I knew that even when I was just as young. He was used to being around drunks that loved to yell and fight and so he'd learned to keep quiet and just observe. But if he felt threatened or wronged, you better believe he wouldn't take it calmly. He gained a reputation for having a temper in the first grade. When Michael Ute pushed me off the swings one day at recess, Paul stalked right over to him and punched him square in the nose and when the teachers tried to make him see that what he had done was wrong, he told them very calmly that he understood he was in trouble but he would do it again if he had to. So, at just 7 years old, Paul became a trouble maker.

Mama recognized that what he needed in his life was some love and normalcy so he quickly became a fixture at our place. Just another one of the kids. I loved having Paul around. I was never scared of him. We had a friendship that was built around a fierce childhood loyalty. I never forgot what he did to Michael Ute and he never let anyone forget that he would do it again. Whenever Paul would have an angry outburst at recess and get sent to the corner of the playground for time out, I would go sit with him and hold his hand. We didn't even talk. We would just hold hands until he calmed down. Things have stayed pretty much the same – at least in that regard.

Mama died in a terrible car accident when I was 11 and my whole world started to crumble around me. Daddy took off just a week after the funeral, my Grams became my only parent, my sister had no time for me – I felt hurt and confused by everything but it was Paul that kept me steady. He didn't need me to do anything or be anything that I wasn't. When people kept telling me that I needed to be brave and be a "good girl" in my mother's memory, I wanted to cave in under the weight of it all. But Paul kept me standing. He just held my hand and gave me all the comfort that I needed.

Paul's still got a short temper but now girls find his brooding nature to be a turn on. They follow him around like lost puppies and I frankly can't blame them; he's grown tall, strong, and handsome. My favorite thing about Paul though, is how clever he is. He doesn't get nearly enough credit for that. He does just enough to get by with decent grades in school but never applies himself enough that anyone really takes notice of how smart he is. I realized that a long time ago. He admitted he found a certain amount of power in being underestimated. He has other friends now, guys to joke around with and talk about girls with, but he's still my best friend. We hang out less because I attend the Advanced Studies program at Forks High and he stays on the rez for school but none of that has really harmed our relationship. He's still my rock steady Paul. And that's what I tell anyone that dares to speak ill of him.

- Thanks for reading! More soon! -