Fish Fry

February was ending. The thin sheets of snow outside were slowly melting from the approaching spring.

It's been three weeks since I've seen Paul.

The day after the accident in the cafeteria, Paul didn't show up for school. I assumed that he actually did have the flu, and later that day when I called his house, his father answered, saying that he came down with a case of the chicken pox. I had no reason to question it.

But it's been three weeks. I called his house a few times, but every time his father answered, and he just kept saying the same thing, so I stopped trying. Things were getting strange. Chicken pox definitely didn't last that long, and the longer I waited, the more I noticed things didn't add up. There was no way chicken pox was the cause of Paul practically radiating heat off of his body. Plus, I was almost sure that Paul had the pox when we were kids.

People at school began to question where he was. His friends on the football team didn't seem too happy about his absence either, considering along with Jared they were down two players.

The more time that past, the more I began to think that there was something else. Like some other piece to the puzzle that needed to be found.

I paced towards the phone; taking it up in my hands and dialling the Lahote household. It rang a few times before I heard someone pick up.

"Hello?" A burly voice spoke.

"Hi Mr. Lahote, its Seth."

"Oh," he didn't sound surprised, "What can I do for you, Seth?"

"I was just phoning for Paul. Is he home?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid he can't come to the phone. He's in bed - stricken with the flu." He added.

"The flu?" I was unconvinced.

"Y-yes, he caught it a few days ago. The poor boy can't catch a break." He chuckled.

I remained silent, which seemed to make the man uncomfortable.

He then spoke up. "Uh, well Seth I'm afraid I'm going to have to let you go. Speak to you later."

"Oh, well okay goodbye-" The line went dead.

Something was definitely going on.

Or was there? Was I just being too paranoid? Maybe Paul really was just sick.

I needed a distraction.

Hanging up the phone, I walked to the kitchen to get something quick to eat; settling for leftover lasagna from dinner last night. Quickly unwrapping and dumping it onto a plate, I shoved it into the microwave, my fingers quickly hitting a few buttons.

I stood there, leaning against the kitchen counter, hundreds of thoughts invading my mind as I listened to the loud humming of the machine next to me.

Growing impatient, I took the plate out of the microwave; striding over to the table.

With each jab of the fork, I picked up another slice of cold lasagna, instantly swallowing as it entered my mouth. I felt too distracted to chew.

Sighing as I finished, I walked over to the sink to wash the plate off, splashing water onto my face afterwards.

I spent the remainder of the day in my room, lying on my bed, studying anything and everything I could for a calculus quiz we had tomorrow.

I tried my best to keep my focus on the notebook in front of me, but which each line read, my eyes started to slowly inch their way shut.

"Seth…" My eyes shot open.

I could already tell I was dreaming.

In front of me were trees, towering over, almost covering the pitch black sky. I sat up, looking around, wondering where the voice came from.

"Seth…" It called again, harsher this time. I was on my feet now, searching for who was calling me.

"Seth…"

The voice was untraceable, as if it were coming from everywhere around me. I started walking, my head rapidly looking in every direction. As seconds past, I felt myself becoming distraught.

A shriek sounded.

I wiped my head in the direction of the sound. I knew the voice, but I couldn't place who it was. I hesitated to follow, until I heard it again.

"Seth!" It cried.

I was running – no, sprinting towards them; my heart viciously trying to break free from the chambers of my chest.

They screamed again.

"Paul!" I shouted out. My legs felt sluggish, and my balance was being tested as my whole body was shaking.

"Paul!" I shouted again.

I was crying; the tears blurring my vision, making me trip up over the ground I could no longer see. If this is a dream, why does it feel so horrible? Everything felt so real.

I saw something in the distance. It was big; its body so dark you could barely see it through the night. But it was no longer night. The sky burned a bright red, yet casted no light. The world around me felt as it was falling apart.

It was the beast – the one from the other day. It was hovering over something – someone.

"Paul!" I cried out. I kept running towards him, but he didn't move; his body lifeless. The beast started charging. It's speed unmatchable. Within milliseconds it was in front of me, ready to deal the killing blow.

I jolted; my body feeling as if it were flying – until I hit the floor with a thud.

A groan escaped my lips. I pressed my hands against the cool wooden floor, pushing my aching-self up.

I looked towards the alarm clock, seeing at it read 4:35 AM. Sluggishly, I climbed back up onto my bed, wrapping the sweat-filled blankets back around me.

I fell back to sleep, feeling as if though the black beast were watching me.

The door to my truck slammed shut. I let out a loud yawn, rubbing my eyes hard in an attempt to wake myself up. It didn't help that it was only forty-six degrees out; the cold only made me want to curl up in my bed even more. I stalked across the parking lot and into the building. I was late getting to school this morning, and I blamed it on my lack of sleep.

Photography class dragged on longer than I had liked, but it did give me more time to study for the quiz I had.

The bell rang. I took my time getting up from my seat and gathering my things. Angela Weber gave me a smile and wave as she passed by my desk - I happily returning the gesture.

After the incident a few weeks ago with Ben Cheney – which I had learned was Angela's boyfriend; both he and Angela have been quite friendly towards me. I was grateful for this, as my only other friend had seemed to all but forgotten about me.

Of course though, I probably was being a tad overdramatic with the whole Paul situation. But even realising that didn't stop my mind from going wild with possibilities and explanations. It was all just one big headache to think about. Walking through the halls, I tried my absolute hardest not to knock into anyone as my head once again went wild with speculation.

Paul wasn't in calculus, but I wasn't surprised.

The quiz the teacher gave out was difficult to say the least. I cursed under my breath as I tried to think back to the problems I studied last night before I idiotically fell asleep. I sighed, knowing it would take a miracle for me to get above a C on this.

For lunch I walked out to my truck, sitting up in it while eating the sandwich I brought. This has been my usual routine for the past week, as I figured if I was going to sit alone, I might as well listen to music to keep me occupied.

The remainder of the day seemed to fly by fast, and before I knew it I was in my truck again, driving down the backroad to La Push.

Pulling in, I saw no other cars in the driveway, to which I quickly remembered that mom and Leah would be gone to Seattle for the weekend, so it would be just me and dad. I stepped into the house, not bothering to announce my arrival as I already knew my father was still at work.

I planned on getting a head start on some homework, but as I glanced at the table, noticed a slip of paper – one from my mom.

Written down was a set of instructions; I would have to go out and buy groceries, to which I got a separate list of everything that I needed. She also said that there was a paper bag in the fridge which contained some of dad's homemade fish, and that I would need to deliver it to Chief Swan in Forks; saying that on the back of the grocery list was directions to the Chief's home.

Looks like I wasn't going to get any work done after all.

I snatched the list off the table. Walking to the fridge I retrieved the fish and retreated back out the door.

First things first, I had to get this fish delivered before it stunk out my truck. I found myself aimlessly driving around Forks as I tried to find my bearings. Each time I thought I was getting somewhere; I would just end up passing the same beat-down red house that I passed moments ago. It took me a good twenty minutes longer than it should have but I finally found myself pulling into the driveway of a two story house.

Picking up the bag, I stepped out of my truck. Noticing the police car in the driveway, I let myself relax, knowing that I did in fact get the right house.

I knocked on the door a few times before a familiar face greeted me.

"Well hello there, Seth. What brings you here today?" The man asked in a welcoming tone.

"Hi Chief Swan, -"

"Please Seth; I've known you all my life, call me Charlie." He cut me off.

I smiled. Charlie was always nonchalant, so it didn't surprise me that he didn't much care about mannerisms.

"Charlie." I corrected. "I came on by to give you a delivery," to which I then held out the bag; "my dad's homemade fish fry."

Charlie's face instantly lit up. "Oh, great!" He said with delight, taking the bag from my hand. "Thanks so much, kid. So what are you up to today anyways?"

"Nothing too much, just doing some errands. I have to go pick up groceries after this." I gave a smile.

"Oh, well don't let an old dude like me keep you any further then." Charlie said, nonchalantly waving me away with a smile.

I found myself chuckling at his words. "Okay. I'll see you later, Chief!" I waved, watching him disappear into the house.

After I arrived at Thriftway, I learned that the store having sales on all kinds of stuff, so it was no wonder my mother wanted me to get everything today.

The place was packed with shoppers left and right, but my small frame let me navigate through the crowd with ease. With each item added to my basket, I crossed said thing off my list.

I walked down an isle in search of cans of mushrooms. Spotting them, I took the last four off the shelf. As I was about to cross it off, I noticed that my mom specifically indicated that she needed five. I looked around, searching for one more, only to groan as I spotted them. They were on the top shelf, and there didn't seem to be any stool I could step on.

I resorted to jumping in an attempting to snatch it off, failing each time. I felt the blood rush to my face as I noticed people around giving me strange looks. After a few more attempts I sighed in defeat. She could make do with four, right?

As I was about to walk away, a hand reached out, grabbing the can off the rack, placing it into my basket. My eyes whipped towards the owner.

Quil Ateara – the fifth. He's the grandson of old Quil; a friend of my fathers. A bright smile was radiating off his face - as usual. He usually hung around Jacob Black and Embry Call, so it felt almost unnatural to see him without the other two.

"It's Seth, right?" He asked. His tenor voice was soothing.

I smiled back nodding. "Yes. And you're Quil." I more so stated than asked. He returned the nod. "Thanks for the help. I was about to lose my mind knowing that I wasn't going to be able to buy them all out." I awkwardly joked, but he seemed to genuinely laugh at it. "So where are Jacob and Embry? It's strange not seeing the three of you together."

His expression grew dim. "Well Jake had to help his father with some stuff today." He then paused; face unreadable. "Embry well… Embry decided to join Sam's cult, so he doesn't speak to me or Jake anymore."

I gave him an odd look. "Sam's cult? What's that?" I questioned.

"Sam Uley. He has this sort of pack that follows him around and practically worships his every move. They flaunt around the reservation, acting like they own the place." The bitterness was clear. His voice became faint. "Beats me on what they all see in him."

Sam had a pack of worshipers? And apparently Embry Call had joined it. It sounded unbelievably bizarre.

"Who else is in this… pack?" I questioned.

"Well there are four of them. Sam and Embry of course, and then I think there's… that Jared Cameron guy-"

Jared? What's he doing hanging around with Sam?

"- and I think Paul Lahote." He finished.

My eyes widened.

"P-Paul?" I stuttered out.

"Yeah, I think he joined a few weeks back. Not surprising, I always thought Paul was that type of person, 'ya know?"

That type? What the hell does that even mean?

I felt myself become irritated with the boy in front of me. Luckily, he spoke up, saying he had to leave. I was glad, as I wasn't able to say anything I would later regret.

As I continued my shopping, I felt myself becoming more distracted. Why was Paul hanging around with Sam Uley? I thought he was bed-stricken, unable to move or even talk to me on the phone, let alone be wondering around with my sister's ex-fiancé.

Purchasing the things I picked up, I walked out of the store, my mind running wild from the new information. I put the grocery bags at the foot of the passenger side of the truck and started the engine; to which I swiftly drove out of the parking lot.

My thoughts were quick to be interrupted as my stomach growled. I contemplated on whether I wanted to cook anything home. In the end, I found myself making a snap decision, turning the truck into one of those fast food chains.

I was parked in a parking lot; a greasy burger in hand as I sat up in my truck. With each bite, my teeth ripped the burger apart. There was anger in me, and all of it was directed at Paul.

I made it home from Forks within twenty-two minutes – driving way over the speed limit. With a grunt I dropped all the bags onto the counter before putting it all away with a sour look on my face.

The conclusion I had come to was that Paul was simply avoiding me. There was no other explanation. He lied to me. He was lying to me and didn't even have the guts to say it himself.

He got his father to do it for him for gods sake!

I dropped the eggs into the fridge – probably a bit too harshly.

I wanted to confront him. Accuse him of avoiding me and ask what I did to him, because hell, I certainly don't know. I only felt myself growing angrier.

"What did those cans of mushrooms do to you?"

I jumped, whipping my head in surprise. My father stood there, taking off his jacket, giving me a strange look.

It was then I noticed that I had been slamming the cans down in the cupboard awfully hard.

"S-sorry, I just got a lot on my mind."

"Why don't you tell me about it; preferably as you warm me up some stew?" He winked at that last part. I rolled my eyes.

Reaching into the cupboard I took out a jar, to which I then grabbed a pot and placed it onto the stove.

"Well…" I started as I tipped the jar upside down, letting the contents fall into the pot. "Paul hasn't spoken to me in three weeks. His father keeps telling me he's got the flu but I know there's something else going on…" I looked over to my father; his eyes wide.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "Well um, maybe Paul is going through some stuff right now. I know I'm not too good on advice, but I do think that maybe you should just give him a little space." I looked to him, shocked from what he had just told me. His gaze didn't meet mine.

"I think three weeks is plenty of space." I huffed.

Both of us remained silent.

As the stew finished, I dumped the continents into a bowl and dropped in in front of my father without a word.

I walked out of the room as he mumbled a 'thank you.'

My mind was too cluttered to do the homework assigned. I settled for going on my computer, distracting myself with mindless games like Pinball and minesweeper.

Quil's words kept repeating in my head.

'Sam's pack.'

What exactly did 'Sam's pack' do anyway? What was Paul's role in this pack? Does he really mindlessly follow Sam around? I found such a thing hard to believe – especially for Paul.

Paul's not the type of person to take orders from people; this I knew for a fact. Maybe he was being forced? Was Sam somehow blackmailing him? As I hit a mine for the thirtieth time in minesweeper, I decided to shut the computer off.

I really needed to get some air.

Grabbing my truck keys and my bag, I headed down stairs.

"Where are you off to?" My father said, glancing up from the television.

"Just going for a stroll." I responded, running out the door and shutting it behind me.

I drove around La Push for a bit, taking in the scenery that hasn't changed since I was a kid. I guess that's what happens in a rural town – absolutely nothing.

After mindlessly wandering, I found myself parked at the beach. Watching as the waves crashed into shore was peaceful to say the least.

This was where Paul and I spent most of our childhood. As kids we use to beg our parents to take us to the beach every weekend; cheering our asses off when they did and crying our eyes out when they didn't.

Then Paul moved away. Unlike me, Paul didn't originate from the reservation. He was born in Tacoma. His parents moved to La Push when he was just an infant. When I heard the news that my best friend was going to be moving back to his birth place, I was practically crushed.

It didn't last long though. Paul's parent's divorced when he was just eight, so his father decided to move back; taking Paul along with him. I had gotten Paul back, and we had become more inseparable than before.

Of course, we weren't kids anymore. Paul has his own life, and it seems that I'm no longer a part of it.

A person flickered from the corner of my eye, to which I then spotted them.

For a moment, I was confused as to what I was seeing. They were emerging from the tree line. Sam Uley was the first to walk out, his face neutral – cold looking. Behind him was Jared. He was laughing, a grin plastered on his face.

Embry Call was next to him, laughing along to whatever had been said. The last time I saw the boy, his hair was past his shoulders in waves, but now it was cut short. As different as it was, it suited him.

My breath hitched as I saw who was last.

Paul.

He was walking close behind the others, a smirk forming from the corners of his mouth. I felt some form of shock. Nothing about him changed, yet somehow he looked completely different. He looked more… Intimidating. His whole demeanour was more aggressive.

He didn't look like the boy I called my best friend.

Sam caught my eye. He was looking at me, and I did nothing but stare back, expressionless. He was saying something; Paul's eyes then quickly darting towards me, his face growing hard.

I rapidly looked away, letting out the breath I was holding.

Was he going to come over? Or was he going to continue his streak and ignore me further. How was this going to play out? I prayed that he would come over and we'd talk like we normally do, but I couldn't steer away from the negative thoughts that heavily clouded my mind not letting me think straight.

A knock sounded on my window, making me jump in surprise.

Paul stood there with a grim look on his face; his gaze not meeting mine. I quickly rolled down the window.

It took a few seconds before I was able to speak.

"Hi…" I whispered. He didn't say anything. Moments passed as I felt all of the emotions I was holding in come out in waves from the cesspool within me, but I didn't let them bubble to the surface.

His face kept scrunching up as he started downwards. He wanted to say something – I could see it in his eye, but he didn't know how.

The first emotion shot out like a geyser.

Irritation.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to say something?" I snapped, harsher than I should have. He only flinched at the words.

Sam and the other two seemed to pack off, giving us privacy.

"I'm sorry…" He whimpered in a pathetic sounding tone, which only had pissed me off more.

I breathed, knowing that being angry wasn't going to make anything better. "For what?"

"Seth, we… we can't be friends anymore." He spoke. My head shot back up towards him, his face still glued to the ground, refusing to look at me.

All of the emotions I felt seemed to vanish, as I now just felt confusion and… fear.

"E-excuse me…?"

"I'm sorry." His face looked as though he was in pain. "It's just not going to work anymore."

I was breathing faster. My heart was pounding out of my chest. I couldn't comprehend the words spoken to me. My mouth tried to form words, only to fail each time.

"What are you even saying?" I finally let out. "What, like, you j-just don't want to be friends anymore? Like what does that even mean y-you can't just-"

"Seth," He cut me off, "please don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Is this about Sam?" The name came out like acid. "Why the hell are you hanging around with him?" I demanded to know.

"That's none of your business." He hissed.

"Stop with the bullshit." Despite myself falling apart, my voice was steady. "What is this all about? You ignore me for weeks, get your father to make up pathetic lies and now you're following around Sam Uley like a lost puppy?"

"Sam is helping me!" He screamed, shoving his fist into the door of the truck.

I was shocked. He was shaking, just like that day in the cafeteria.

"Paul…" It was Sam speaking in the distance, his voice full of warning. Paul glared at the man, only to turn around – but still not looking at me.

"This is over, Seth." He simply stated.

"N-No… No!" I subconsciously began to raise my voice. "You can't stop being friends with me! You just can't!"

Moments went by, but Paul didn't speak.

"What did I do wrong?" I begged to know. "Please, just tell me so I can fix it!"

Silence again.

All he did was stare at the damn ground.

"Paul, look at me!" I demanded.

His eyes met mine, and suddenly, it felt as if the whole world came to a stop. Tears had begun streaming down my face.

He stood there, his eyes widened and mouth hung open. He looked shocked. The shock turned to confusion, and confusion turning fearful.

He looked as if his whole world shifted from under him.

"I have to go…" He whispered.

Before I got the chance to speak, he was gone – Running back to the tree line. The other three quickly following his trail, all looking confused.

My hand viciously grabbed the clutch. Hauling it into reverse, I swiftly turned the truck – Putting it back into drive – and drove home without a second thought.

The road was barely visible from the tears pouring down. Turning into the driveway, I opened the door, slamming it hard behind me before entering the house.

My father was thankfully asleep on the couch, so he didn't hear my arrival or the silent sobs coming from me. My legs shook as I took each step upstairs.

Entering my room, I locked the door behind me, stripped off my clothing and then climbed into bed, not caring that the cold breeze seeped through the wide open window.

The sizzle of bacon made my stomach growl. I stood over the stove, frying pan in hand as I flipped the strips of meat repeatedly. My mind felt numb – as if it had been froze over.

My father left a few hours ago – my guess was hunting – so I was free to leave my room without the worry that I might break down at any given moment.

I hadn't slept well last night. I woke up to myself crying in the middle of the night from a dream that I couldn't quite remember.

Yesterday was probably the worst day of my life. It has left me so lost and confused. But neither of those compared to the sadness I felt.

A hole had been punched through my chest.

I placed the crispy pieces of bacon on a plate, before dumping the dishes into the sink and taking my plate with me into the living room.

Saturday morning cartoons were on – Ed, Edd n Eddy specifically.

It probably seemed childish to enjoy such things, but their mindless humour helped me take my mind of stressful events going on in my life. Today it didn't seem to be working though, as all I could think about was the fact that mine and Paul's friendship was over.

The worst part was I had no clue as to why, and each time I think back to yesterday, the more it seemed that Paul didn't want it to end either.

I wanted to accuse Sam Uley for all of this, but the fact that Paul said that Sam was 'Helping him' has me thinking otherwise.

How was Sam 'helping' Paul? What did Paul need help with anyways? Was he in trouble with the mafia or something?

The longer I thought about it all the more crazy my ideas seemed to get. But there was one thing I knew for certain.

Something strange was going on in La Push. And it all seemed to start that day, when I almost hit that… beast.

That person on the road who disappeared in thin air, Paul's burning skin and intense anger, and Paul and Jared always missing school, and Sam's pack. It all felt connected.

I put the now empty plate down on the coffee table. Stretching my body out on the couch, I laid my head back on the armrest.

Whatever was going on, for the sake of mine and Paul's friendship, I was going to get to the bottom of it.