Edward dropped me off at my house and ran home to get his car. The few minutes I had to myself gave me time to think. I suddenly remembered; I had an unattended-to problem.

I still had to figure out what was going on with Jacob. I deliberated. Edward probably knew about whatever it was that was making Jacob anxious, and I wasn't sure if he would approve of me heading over to La Push for a quick visit. I could lie, though my skills lacked in believability. At least Edward couldn't read my mind, though my lie might make him suspicious.

I also wasn't sure if I wanted to spend my time with anyone other than Edward. I had just gotten him back; did I want to be separated from him for any length of time, no matter how short? I knew the answer was no, but this was something I had to do. I had to find out what Jacob's problem was. I hoped it wasn't anything to serious or sinister, but I knew that if it was, I would help Jacob in any way possible. He didn't deserve to suffer.

But what if it was something bad? What if Jacob was participating voluntarily in whatever was going on with him? If he enjoyed what he was doing, then what was the sense in trying to comfort him? I knew that none of my questions would be answered if I didn't go talk to him.

I decided to keep my expedition a secret from Edward. He had been gone five minutes, so that meant he would be home by now. He would probably spend a few minutes inside, then retrieve his car and drive back to Forks, another ten minutes. I figured I had fifteen minutes, tops. But then there was another problem; it took fifteen minutes to get to La Push, and my truck was definitely not a fast-moving machine. So, my brilliant plan was not so brilliant, after all.

I dashed to the phone, hoping to catch Edward while he was still at home. Esme picked up after one ring. I asked her if Edward had left yet.

"No, he's up in his room getting a few things. Would you like to talk to him?"

I wimped out. My lying skills were way too rough. "No, thanks. Could you just tell him I won't be at home when he comes back? Tell him to take his time; I'm going to make a quick visit to a friend."

Esme said she would relay the message. I hung up and ran to the door.

______________________________________________________________________________

I felt like an escaped convict as I drove to La Push. My blood pulsed violently in my veins. My nerves were frayed. I began to think about home.

I missed it; the heat, the sun, the desert, the things I was used to. I suddenly ached for Phoenix. I also thought about my mother, but soon had to stop. Thinking about her was making me depressed, and I had also arrived in La Push. I began to pay attention to my surroundings; I had only been to the Black's place once, and I wasn't sure if I could find my way on the first try.

The rain pelted loudly on the side of my trucks. The sky was an ominous grey, reminding me of what I was about to do. I wasn't very fond of confrontation; this was going to be difficult.

I finally reached the Black's house, a small red building that resembled a barn. Jacob heard the deafening rumbling of my truck and ran out to meet me before I could even cut the engine.

"Bella!"

"Hey, Jacob." My voice sounded a bit flat. I wasn't sure how to phrase my questions.

"What's up?" he asked cheerfully.

"Can I come inside?" The rain was soaking my hair and making me colder than necessary.

"Sure," Jacob replied with a slightly confused expression. He led me to the front door of his house and opened it for me. I noticed his eyes appraised with a bit more than excitement. I brushed it off and stepped inside the warm, albeit small house. Billy Black was in the process of rolling to the door, but Jacob had beaten him to it.

"Bella. How are you?" Billy asked me, a hint of surprise in his voice. He hadn't expected to see me, either.

"Fine," I answered simply.

"How's Charlie? I haven't been down to see him in a while."

"He's fine, too."Billy nodded to me and rolled back into the kitchen. I glanced around the cramped room. The floor was covered with dark carpet. A small TV with rabbit ears on top sat in the corner of the room, and a shabby love seat faced it. I noticed Jacob watching me, and turned back to him.

"So, what's up?" he repeated.

"Um, do you want to go for a walk on the beach?" I asked tentatively. I wasn't sure how he would respond. He ended up surprising me.

"Sure," Jacob said perkily.

We drove down to First Beach in my truck. It was devoid of other people, as usual, and the water was steel grey under the omnipresent clouds. I sighed when I noticed the trees moving in the wind; this was going to be a cold walk. I was glad I had worn a thick coat.

We walked side by side, the wind at our backs.

"So, how have you been?" I asked.

"Oh, pretty good. You?"

"Wonderful."

"Really?" I wondered of Charlie had gossiped about me with Billy. Jacob seemed surprised at my answer.

"Yeah. Really." I answered.

We continued with the small talk, until I'd had enough. I contemplated silently about how to phrase my question. My stomach cramped when I spoke. I didn't want Jacob to be angry with me if I offended him, so I spoke carefully.

"So . . . I noticed some strange things when you visited me last." I looked up at him, and he glanced at me incredulously. "I mean . . . It seems like something strange is going on with you."

"You're smart Bella." he stated.

I was surprised. "I'm right?" I asked breathlessly.

"Yes . . . and no."

"Oh." That changed some things. I wouldn't be able to figure it out as easily with that kind of answer. Unless he told me straight out, which didn't seem likely.

"I'm not sure if I can tell you. But you might be able to figure it out. If you tried hard enough. But I have one question: Can I trust you? I mean, completely?" His question confused me. I'd already been able to keep the biggest part of my life a secret for more than a year. No one suspected me of socializing with vampires.

"Of course." I answered swiftly.

"Okay . . . Do you remember any of the Quileute legends I told you about before?" I frowned. Of course I did. His "scary stories" had stuck with me all this time. They had also informed about what the Cullens actually were. The "cold ones," Jacob had called them.

I didn't really remember the rest of the legends; there was only one that really mattered to me.

"Yes."

"All of them?" Jacob asked.

"I don't know . . . Not really."

He frowned, muttering, "Yeah, I guess there's only one you care about."

"Then tell me." I demanded. He looked up in shock.

"Well . . ." he began slowly, "Quileutes are descended from wolves, and the legends say that when our natural enemy —"

"The cold ones," I whispered.

"Yes, the cold ones. When they come around, some of the direct descendants of the wolf-men actually turn into wolves."

"Like . . . werewolves?"

"Yeah, I guess that's would you would call them." he answered quietly. He stayed silent for a long moment. We had stopped walking and I was sitting on a bone-white driftwood log. Jacob stood a few feet in front of me, gazing thoughtfully out at the choppy waters.

He turned back to me, and I shivered at the expression on his face.