I do not own the The Twilight Saga. All copyrights go to Stephenie Meyer.

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"Eve."

I hear fingers snapping in front of my nose before I see them, blinking rapidly to process the image.

"Are you feeling okay, sweetheart? You've been sitting there an awful long time, and I don't see anything exciting going on out that window."

I glance up at Mrs. Jones, my thoughts scattering in an almost embarrassing manner.

"Oh, yes... I'm sorry, I just got distracted." I stand and make my way to the counter before turning to look at her.

Mrs. Jones is motherly. She and her husband offered me a job in their small bookstore years ago when they realized I spent more time there than anyone else my age, and while I had never needed employment due to my family's wealth, I did need something to pass the time.

"Well, if I had needed you I would've called sooner, but it seems there's not many people out in this weather." She glances toward the storefront, watching the slow rain form puddles along the street.

"I guess so..." I purse my lips, realizing I even sound distracted.

"Would you like to go, dear? Mr. Jones will be back any moment. He and I can close up."

I look up into her eyes, smiling softly. "Sure... I'd like to grab a tea before the storm picks up." I bend down, grabbing my jacket, bag, and keys from under the counter.

"Be safe, Eve. We'll call you tomorrow if we need you." Mrs. Jones follows me to the door and opens it for me, letting me out into the rain as I pocket my keys and pull the hood of my jacket up.

"Thank you, Mrs. Jones. I'll see you soon." I turn and start down the street, almost wishing I had driven today as the cold breeze bites at my cheeks. After walking a few blocks, I turn and duck into a small coffee shop, order a hot tea and take a seat at the corner table by the window. Keeping my hands wrapped around the paper cup, I stare out the window at the rain as it picks up, drenching the sidewalks. I take a deep breath and relax, but startle at the sound of a chair being pulled out from my table.

Turning quickly to look at the offender, I find myself face to face with the boy from the beach. I part my lips and inhale, nearing a gasp as he smirks slightly and sits down, inviting himself to my table.

"Hey." He leans back, sinking comfortably into the chair.

I glance at the cashier, feeling a confused expression bleed onto my face. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the area." He shrugs, almost too at ease. "I saw you through the window and decided to come say hi."

"Are you stalking me?" His smirk fades at my accusation, his eyes widening slightly.

"No! No... I just... I don't know. We didn't get to talk much before, and you don't seem busy now."

I stare at him for a long while, purposely avoiding his eyes while I slowly turn my cup in my hands. "I'm sorry, but I'm having a hard time believing you're here by coincidence." I pause, deciding to lean back and act natural. "Besides, what would your girlfriend think?"

"Girlfriend?" He sputters, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. His t-shirt is soaked through, and he looks to have forgotten his jacket, but the cold doesn't seem to bother him. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"So you just drape your arms over every girl's shoulders?" I lift my cup and take a sip, wishing the tea was as enjoyable now as it was five minutes ago.

"Yea. I mean no. No. She was my girlfriend, but she's not anymore." I nod, trying to keep from smiling, as he fumbles over his words. It must have been a fragile relationship if it could end in less than twenty-four hours.

"She didn't seem..." I tighten my lips into a line, trying to find the right word. "...friendly."

He shrugs, his smug smile returning. "Yea... she's not." He stares at me for a long while, remaining silent, before glancing around the coffee shop. "So... what're you doing here?"

"Having a tea." A raise the cup to my lips once more, and as I do I hear his breath hitch slightly, as if the movement was much more graceful than I imagined. Setting my cup back down, I lean back into my chair and put my hands in my pockets.

"How old are you?" I raise my eyebrows at his question, having only been asked a few times in my very, very long lifetime.

"Twenty-one." That's as close to the truth as he'll get. I watch him for a moment, but the news doesn't seem to alter his impression of me in the slightest. "And you?"

"Twenty-seven." I nod, unsure of what to say from here while he makes it quite obvious he's trying not to stare. "Look, um... I don't know anything about you. But I'd really, really like to. Can I... I don't know... give you my number?"

"Give me your number?" I smirk slightly, resisting the urge to shake my head. "Why?"

"If you're ever back in La Push, you can... call, text, whatever. I'll meet you. Anywhere you want." There's a note of desperation in his voice while he gives me a pleading look.

Inhaling a deep breath before sighing, I finally shake my head slowly. "Look... I'm not really looking for any-"

"Just as friends." He interrupts, almost as if he had anticipated my answer. "Please."

I purse my lips and look up, deep into his eyes. Why am I even considering this? "Alright, fine..." The words are out before I realize I've said them. I pull my cell phone out and slide it across the table, trusting he knows how to add his own number.

He quickly grabs the phone, taps a few keys, and sets it back down on the table, sliding it back toward me.

After a long pause, he finally speaks. "You will call, won't you?" He takes his hand off my phone as he asks, his eyes sinking into me.

I take my phone and pocket it before offering him an honest shrug. "I really don't spend much time there... but if I do, I will call."

He smiles wide, nodding his head. "Alright. Awesome!" He laughs softly before standing up, glancing around the shop once more. "I should probably get going... but, uh... well, I hope I see you again soon."

I nod once, deciding I should leave as well. "Sure... me too." I stand, quickly zipping up my jacket and pulling my bag over my shoulder.

We walk out of the coffee shop together in silence, and stop on the street corner as I wait to cross. He turns and looks at me, the rain drenching him again. "Goodnight Eve."

I glance up, catching the look he's giving me, and offer him a soft, almost flattered smile. "Goodnight."

The light changes, and I scurry off across the street before I can stop to wonder what the hell is wrong with me.