A.N. Really, really sorry that I haven't updated in ages. =( I am trying to update more often but I am really busy.

Just want to say thanks to: LollyPopLaura1994, mylifeyoentertainment, meg, Sannis, reader, amiesuzie, Alex0007, TwilightLovarr and MyTwiDreams for reviewing the fist two chapters.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and plots belong to Stephanie Meyer.


Chapter 3

I reluctantly woke up from a deep sleep where I had been dreaming of Paul. I was surprised. Not only was I dreaming of him, but I was enjoying it as well. I sat up in bed and and started thinking about that. Why was I dreaming about him? After ten minutes of wondering I decided that I would have top think about it later, as it was nearly ten o'clock.

I got out of bed and walked towards my closet, to find what I was going to wear today. I looked through my clothes and thought the best thing to wear would be a pair of black skinny jeans, that Rebecca got me for my last birthday, and a dark red, long sleeved top that would go well with it. After choosing my clothes, I headed towards the bathroom so I could take a shower.

After my shower I walked back into my bedroom, my wet hair trailing down my back. I sat down at my dresser and started to blow dry my hair. I was taking as long as possible so I didn't have to face my father downstairs and explain where I was all day yesterday. After I had finished drying my hair I started to straighten it.

Half an hour later, when my hair was incredibly straight, I decided that I couldn't put off seeing my father for any longer. I unplugged my straighteners and left them to cool on my dresser. I then walked of my bedroom and down the stairs.


When I got downstairs I saw that my father was sat in front of the TV, watching a minor league baseball game. When I reached the door of the kitchen he turned to look at me. He looked slightly cautious but mainly curious and that was when I realized that I would have to sit and explain exactly exactly where I was all day yesterday.

I decided that I could put that off for a couple of minutes by making some coffee so I carried on walking into the kitchen. After making my coffee I knew there was noway that I could stall any more. I walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa that was next to the one that my father was sat on and prepared myself for the stream of questions that I knew was coming. I took a sip of my coffee when my father started talking. What he first said surprised me.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't explain what was going on yesterday, but really it is nothing." I decided that I'd let him get away with that even though I was desperate to know. So I told him:

"It's fine Dad, really."

"Good," he said and he looked slightly relieved. "So, what did you do all day yesterday?" This was the question that I had been trying to avoid for hours, but now I had to answer it. Even so, I was going to try and keep as much of what I actually did that day, out of my explanation.

"I just went for a run down First Beach for a while and lost track of time." The look on his face told me that he wasn't satisfied with that and what he said next proved my assumptions.

"Rachel, I may be old but I am your father and I know you. You don't lose track of that amount of time, even in a place that you haven't visited in a few years. So what did you do yesterday?" One thing I had always liked about my Dad, while growing up, was that even when he was being serious he acted casual. That had always seemed to calm me down, thinking that if he could be laid back about it, so could I. That seemed to had the opposite effect on me then. Him being so casual was just making me more nervous because I knew that however he acted, he really wanted to know. Also it make me feel annoyed. Why could he question me on what I do, and expect an answer, but I couldn't get him to answer a simple question.

In the end I decided that the only way that I was going to get away from this,was if I was going to tell him the truth. So then I started to explain.

"I wandered down First Beach and I was enjoying the sea air clearing my thoughts. I then bumped into one of the Quileute boys, Paul Millers." As I said that my father's facial expression turned from slightly concerned and curious to to more concerned and slightly scared. This I didn't understand. Why would he be scared about me running into someone from our own reservation? I thought it couldn't be that bad so I continued. "We sat down and started talking and we just lost track of time, that's all." As I said this his concern turned into was as if he hated what I had done. I couldn't understand why he was so angry. What had I done wrong? What he said next answered my question.

"You shouldn't have spent the day with that boy. He is quick to lose his temper and if he did he could have hurt you."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was like he was speaking about a totally different person. When I was with Paul yesterday, he was kind, quiet and had listened to everything that I had told him. I decided to make my point to my father.

"How could you say that." I said, getting angrier the more I spoke. "He wasn't like that, he was kind and listened to me."

"He will only get angry with you." He replied.

"You don't know that." I told him and only then realized I was standing.

"Believe me, I do." He said. "It isn't what your mother would have wanted."

When he said this tears began to roll down my cheeks. He instantly looked like he regretted what he said. But I wasn't going to let him apologize. I walked out the front door before he could say anything to me.


Before I could realize where I was going, I found myself on First Beach. I reached the place that I had sat with Paul yesterday and found that I couldn't go any further. I collapsed on the log that we sat on and that was when the sobs started to take over. I sat down and cried for longer than I had before I left for collage.

Not two minutes after I had been sat on the log, I felt two long arms wrap around me. I didn't question them as they were the one that I wanted to feel right then. I knew that those arms belonged to Paul when he sat down next to me and started soothing me. I spent a brief amount of time wondering how he could have known I was here. but quickly dismissed the thought while I was thinking what I would have done if he hadn't shown up. I would have sat and cried my eyes out and felt terrible for the rest of the day. Just thinking about being on my own was starting to upset me further so I decided to forget about being alone and thank for the fact that I had Paul with me. After deciding this, I lent into Paul and turned my head into his chest. With me doing this he seemed to relax slightly, how that he knew that I wanted him there.

I sat crying into him for fifteen minutes before I started to calm down. All of that time Paul just sat with me, his warm arms making me think that nothing could hurt me again. He let be soak his shirt with tears while he rocked us back and forth, telling me that it was going to be OK and that he was here for me. He never once asked me what was wrong and I was grateful for that. Even though I would tell him, at that moment I didn't want to think about what had been said to me.

When I had fully calmed down, Paul asked me if I was OK. When I said that I was he said:

"Do you want to talk about it. You don't have to but I'm here to listen." I thought about that. It would be good to tell someone about it, someone that had proved to me that I could trust him no matter what my Dad had said to me earlier. I then decided that I would tell Paul.

"Dad asked me what I did yesterday since he hadn't seen much of me." I then looked at Paul to see if he was listening to me. He looked genuinely interested, so I continued. "I told how I had come down here and talked to you and we lost track of time. He then started to get angry when I said this. He said things like how you would only get angry with me and hurt me." When I said this I saw something change in Paul's eyes. They looked hurt and slightly angry. I had paused, debating whether to continue or not. He seemed to sense this and told me to carry on, so I did. "He then said that it was not what Mom would have wanted me doing." When I said this tears started to roll down my cheeks again. I felt Paul's arms tighten around me and he wiped my tears away with his thumb.

With me then calmed down, Paul said:

"Jake told me that your mother died in a car accident when you were nine. You can tell me about it if you want to." Since Paul had been so good to me and always listened to what I had had to say, I could think of no better person to talk about my mother's death with. With that I started to explain how exactly Sarah Black had died and why I had never gotten over her death.

"It was just a normal day. Six year old Jake was running around the house, wanting to play outside, Rebecca was being begged by Dad to get off the phone to her friends because he had just gotten the phone bill and I was with Mom." When I said this, for the third time that day, I started crying. Paul just pulled me closer to him, but didn't interrupt. I took a deep breath and then continued. "I wanted her to go to Seattle to get a new book that had just come out and it was only available there. I had been begging her for hours and she was starting to back down.

Half an hour later she said that she would go to Seattle. I told her what book I wanted and she got in the car and headed towards Seattle.

I was sat on the sofa, talking to Rebecca, when the phone rang. Dad picked it up and I remember the look on his face when he listened to what the caller was saying. He suddenly looked so scared. Me and Rebecca went over to him and he called Jake over too. He said that Mom had been in a car crash and that she was in the hospital in Forks. Dad was like a robot when he got us three into hid truck and drove us there. I remember walking into the hospital and walking into the room that she was in. I was shocked when I saw her. She was on a life support system. there was what seemed like hundreds of wires that were attached to and even a machine that was breathing for her." When I said this Paul pulled me closer to him, as if that was possible. " We all sat with her for hours, all in shock. A came in some time later and told us the news that will stick with me forever. He said that mom has suffered a lot of damage to her brain when a drunk driver hit her car. He also said that he was in a deep coma and there was a good chance that she wouldn't wake up from it and that we might want to think about turning off the life support system.

When he said this me and Rebecca started crying and Dad came over and hugged us both. At the time Jake didn't really understand what was going on. We all sat down together for about an hour and then we all decided that it would be best to turn the machine off because Mom wouldn't have wanted that sort of a life. We all said goodbye and then, eventually, the machine was turned off.

Dad then took us all home. Me, Rebecca and Jake all went straight to bed and I think that Dad stayed up all night. He was either crying or sorting out things like funeral arrangements. Me and Rebecca stayed up for ages, holding each other while we cried for our mother. That was when we decided to leave La Push as soon as we could and try out best to stay away.

So that is what we did. As soon as we were eighteen we left. Rebecca married her husband Nick and went to live in Hawaii. I went to Washington State Collage and trained to be an elementary school teacher.

It was never quite enough for me though. It's not easy to forget that it is your fault that your mother died." When I said this Paul turned to face me and said:

"It wasn't your fault that Sarah died. You didn't know that there was going to be a car crash when she went to Seattle."

"Yeah." I said. "But if I hadn't begged her for hours to go to Seattle, then she wouldn't have been hit by a drunk driver." He suddenly interrupted me.

"Exactly my point, she was hit by a drunk driver. It was the driver's fault, not yours."

"But..."

"No buts. It was the drivers fault that your mother was killed, not yours, OK?" He looked so forceful. Like he wanted me to believe that it wasn't my fault that Mom died. After that thought I said:

"OK." And I relaxed into him. He, once more, put his arms around me and told me.

"I won't be around tomorrow morning but I want you to meet me above the cliffs above this beach at around twelve thirty, OK?" I was slightly surprised with his request but agreed.

We spent the rest of the day together. Just sitting, talking and having fun on the beach. At some point, Paul went to a store and bought us both some food. He seemed to eat an enormous amount , but I didn't question it.

When the sun started to go down, we both said goodbye to each other and headed home. Paul was looking delighted when I said that I would defiantly meet him the next day.


Five minutes later I was at my house. I walked in and saw Dad watching the TV. When he saw me he looked like he was going to apologize for earlier but when I told him to leave it he must of seen the hard expression on my face because he looked away instantly.

I walked up the stairs and into my bedroom. I grabbed my sweats and t-shirt and went to take a shower. Afterwards I went back into my room and got into bed. As I settled down to sleep I started to dream, and this time I wasn't surprised that I was dreaming about Paul.


A.N. I hoped you liked this chapter. The next will be slightly different as it will be in Paul's POV. What will they be doing on the cliff? Who knows! You will have to wait to find out! (I'm too cruel!). Please Review and you may be given a slight clue! ;-)