Howdy. I'm going to start this off by saying, that I'm not going to apologize for taking so long. Basically...life caught up with me. Senior year, captain of the volleyball team, boyfriend, car accidents and family funerals...yeah. Life caught up with me. Anyways, as it usually goes, this chapter didn't fully take form until about two days ago. I toyed with different beginnings and endings, emotions, lines, characters...and none of it fit until like, Thursday night. But, now...I love it. my schedule's calmed down quite a bit - except for volleyball - and my writing has fallen back into it's usual groove, so we're good to go. This story should be updated pretty soon because the next chapter is like...my favorite one so far. :)

Okay, this chapter is the longest one I've ever written. Enjoy it. Read, review, be merry. Make me smile like you guys did on the last one - fifty eight reviews! That's my record, and you better believe it makes me happy. :)

DISCLAIMER: Well...I own everyone in this chapter except for Jared. Unfortunately he's the only one I want to own. :)

I had already resigned myself to the fact that school today – namely school with Jared today – was going to be a complete and total hell, and of course I was right; I just hadn't expected the shit to hit the fan so early. Now, I wasn't exactly shocked when Brandon came downstairs and announced that our bus had broken down in the QTS parking lot, and we were going to have to be driven to school; but that was only because those buses were held together with bubblegum and duct tape, and catastrophes like this one were common business in La Push. I wasn't happy about the situation though – not at all.

Our father had left for work early – his excuse being that he wanted to get in a few extra hours before Christmas break rolled around – and Uncle John was the only lucid adult in the house with my brother and I. Though I wanted to be, and probably should have been, I was not mad at my uncle. Sure, he'd yelled at me and tried to make the unrequited love of my life out to be the bad guy; but Uncle John was the one person in the world I could never be mad at. Except Jared.

So I wasn't mad at him per se…but I wasn't happy with him either. And I didn't want him driving me to school. Lucas was upstairs, hung over from his liquor cabinet raid last night and quite incapable of driving anyone anywhere, so my choices were few; but I wasn't getting in a car with Uncle John. Period.

"Well kids," our uncle announced and stumbled into the kitchen with coffee cup in hand. His hair was sticking up in all sorts of odd tangled formations. "Your father's gone so I'll drive you to school today. What time do we need to leave?" He yawned.

"Seven-"

"I can drive us." My voice was harsh and it cut into Brandon's mumbled reply like a knife through butter.

Uncle John raised a lazy eyebrow and scoffed. "No you can't," he drawled. "I heard about your little Lexus incident young lady, so if you think I'm letting you drive my car in the rain…you're nuts."

I scowled into my cereal bowl. "Fine."

Uncle John nodded and turned around to fill his mug with more coffee. "Good, what time do we-"

"We'll walk then."

The silence after my statement was almost painful. I stood slowly and approached the sink at snail pace – hell…a snail could have lapped me at the rate I was going, just waiting for some reaction from my family.

"But Kim," Brandon finally whined and jammed his thumb towards the kitchen window. "It's pouring buckets outside!"

My gaze followed his pointing finger to the near solid wall of water dumping from our gutters. I could see one massive puddle forming in the dirt driveway outside the house, tiny ripples dancing across its surface.

"We'll be fine," I assured him and rumpled his hair on my way out into the hall. "People are washable." I pushed past my stunned uncle and ascended the stairs with surprising grace for someone who had trouble walking on flat surfaces.

Honestly, I was on Brandon's side of the argument. I didn't want to walk a mile in the sheeting rain, while my makeup ran and my hair poofed up to gargantuan sizes; but I really didn't want to drive to school with my uncle who I'd recently decided could go crawl under a rock.

So, I was going to walk. I was going to risk my hair and my face, just to avoid him.

This is what my life has come to. Fantastic.

xXx

"I told you this was a bad idea."

"I know you did."

"Then stop complaining. It's all your fault." My hand flew up and smacked Brandon in the back of the head. "Ow! It's true!"

I groaned and crossed my arms tightly over my chest. "I know it is."

Apparently I had underestimated Mother Nature's downright loathing of Washington State, because in the two minutes since we'd left the house, Brandon and I had become completely soaked. The freezing water droplets had trickled right on through our expensive gortex raincoats – the ones that were guaranteed to keep us dry – our gloves and our shoes. Our idiot father had never once thought to buy a nice umbrella, even though we lived in La Push – we had a million pairs of super-reflective sunglasses, but not one damn rain repelling umbrella.

Which you know, can come in handy in the Pacific Northwest.

So we were soaking wet, and it was entirely our uncle's – and partly my cheap father's - fault. (Actually, it was my ego that had caused this; but it was also my ego that prevented me from admitting that it was my ego.)

"You just had to spite him didn't you Kim?" Brandon swung his soggy rain boot at the nearest roadside dandelion he could find. "Why couldn't you just…get over yourself this one morning and do me a favor?"

My mouth popped open and my hand shot out to grab my brother around the wrist. I tugged his arm until he was facing me and sent my best, "You are so dead mister," glare at him.

"Excuse me?" I growled. "Need I remind you that I have been taking care of you every morning since you were born?" He glared at his muddy boots, avoiding my gaze – so I grabbed his chin and made him look at me. "I have been doing favors for you your entire life Brandon. I changed your diapers and fed you; held your hand when you were scared, kept a smile on your face when you were in pain. "My voice had slowly softened from my growling rage, and now that I wasn't yelling at him, Brandon quit struggling and met my gaze with his big brown eyes. "One morning for me, Brandon – that's all I ask." His lip quivered.

I hated it when he did this to me – the "I'm so sorry, I love you," puppy dog look that always made me feel like the devil no matter what I'd done to cause it. I sighed and released his chin, sending water droplets down his face and neck. I laughed as he scrambled to wipe them away. "You'll be fine you baby, its water." I chuckled. "It's not acid or lava or…hot sauce even – it's just water."

"I know," he mumbled with a smile. I mimicked his gesture and pulled his shoulders into a quick embrace.

"You're a booger; but I love you kid." I sighed and held him at arms length – just to get a good look at him – and realized with some confusion that he wasn't looking at me. Instead, his eyes were focused on something over my left shoulder.

I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced back to see what had caught his attention.

A red jeep was sloshing through rain puddles on the gravel road behind us. I groaned. I would have known who was driving even if I hadn't seen the dark-skinned boy behind the wheel, hunched over because he was too tall to sit up straight with the top up.

"Perfect," I moaned. Her I was, really honest to God not thinking about Jared for the first time in a long time…and he just has to drive up behind me while I'm walking to school. Even better, was the fact that for once in my life I didn't want to see him?

How many times had I fantasized about Jared Brooks saving me from a downpour, with a big smile on his face and a kiss waiting for me? Millions. And the one time I don't want him to, the one time I could have lived without his face – he's there.

"Just perfect."

"Kim, who is that?" Brandon whispered and inched closer to me. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and listened as the sound of tires turning slowed to a stop and I could feel the heat from the Jeep's engine steaming up the air next to us. Jared would want to give us a ride, I would refuse, and an argument would occur whether we wanted it to or not – it wasn't a battle I would win, of that I was certain. So, for fear of my little brother catching a cold, I gave in before the war started.

"Just get in the car, Brandon." I whispered. My hand rose up automatically and pulled the door open with one easy tug. I was amused, for a moment, to realize that I was getting used to Jared's car. The thrill of excitement this realization sent through me was soon flattened by reality.

You can't see him anymore Kim – you're not allowed to. Don't get used to it now; it'll only hurt worse later.

"Who-" Brandon started but I silenced him with one heated glance. Brandon's brow furrowed and he shot me a very calculating look, but he obliged and lifted himself into the idling Jeep.

"Hey," he mumbled and I heard Jared chuckle. The sound made my heart flutter…and it hurt.

"I'm not going to bite you kid, I promise." His voice sent my heart into the awkward and newly painful spasms once again.

Why? Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?

I took one long steadying breath and then hoisted myself in next to my brother.

"Hey, Kim." Jared boomed – his voice was shockingly loud in the small cabin without the luxury of his convertible top being down. The volume didn't help my pain any.

"Hi," I mumbled. The old Kim took over for a moment and I had to glance at the glorious boy hunched over the steering wheel. He was smiling at me, his pearly white teeth a shocking contrast to his dark skin. His scruffy hair was wet and dangling adorably in front of his eyes like black silk curtains. He shook his head and a few tiny drops splashed onto my face. The breath caught in my throat and I had to look away.

I wanted him so badly it was literally painful. And for some…elusive reason, he wanted me too – at least enough to ask me out and seem excited about it. He had finally noticed me, and my father just had to go and squash that dream like an ugly intrusive beetle.

This blows.

My teeth sawed into my bottom lip and it took me a few minutes to realize why it hurt so badly – I already had a battle wound from the bus ride yesterday with Jared when he'd tried to…kiss me…I slammed my eyes closed to stop the memory and only opened them again when I deemed it safe to do so – when I felt I wouldn't be producing any more pain inflicting memories.

Brandon was staring at me when I had enough peace of mind to focus my eyes on anything other than my raggedy fingernails. His eyes were narrowed the way they always were when he was thinking hard about something. He shifted his gaze discreetly to Jared, then back to me, then to Jared again – the circuit was completed numerous times before a look of understanding crossed his features. A look of understanding, and fear. His eyes shot open and suddenly I felt embarrassed under his heated glare.

Neither Brandon nor Lucas had been downstairs when my father and uncle had spoken to me about Jared's supposed cult activity; but I had a feeling that they both knew just as much as I did on the subject. They were masters at eavesdropping.

By the looks of things, Brandon had just discovered who our oh-so-willing chauffer was. He stiffened up and the grip he had on his backpack tightened until his knuckles were white. For a moment I found myself worrying about his blood pressure; but the I remembered that he was twelve and heart issues at that age were…well, not an issue.

I swallowed hard as a more disturbing thought occurred to me: Brandon could tell on me to Dad. We had passed up a chance to drive to school with our trusted uncle, and instead had taken a ride from an alleged cult member – an alleged cult member that I was banned from seeing ever again.

Do. Not. Tell. I ordered Brandon silently, trying to yell at him with my eyes rather than my words – mostly because if he wasn't in a cult, that accusation could seriously offend him, but also because if he was in a cult…I didn't want him knowing I knew he was dangerous.

"Well," Jared announced, breaking the silent scolding session I was having with my brother. "Here we are."

I wrenched my eyes away from Brandon for a quick peek out the windshield and realized with amazement that we were already at school.

That was fast.

Jared pulled smoothly into the parking lot and stopped right next to the curb in the "student load and unload" area. I opened my mouth to warn him, but Brandon reached across me to pop the door open, and without so much as a thank you, shoved me out of the car. I found this extremely rude so when he slid out behind me, I punched him in the arm.

"That was very-" Brandon grabbed the hand I'd hit him with and tugged me through the grass towards the main building with an annoyed and terrified look on his face.

Then I got it. He wanted me away from Jared – the scary cult man who had offered us a ride to school. How devious. What a scoundrel. How dare he help us.

I frowned and yanked my hand free of his grasp. "Stop it," I snapped and turned around to wait for Jared so that we could at least thank him ;but he was turning the key in the ignition like he was going to leave…

"You're not staying?" I squeaked, my voice un-expectedly anxious.

Way to play it cool, Kimmy.

Jared smiled at me but it looked strained…fake. "No, I've got a…meeting to go to."

Brandon gasped behind me and tugged on my hand again. "C'mon Kim!" he begged. I pulled my hand free of his nervous fingers and waved him away. I waited until he was out of the parking lot and grumbling quietly to himself to speak again.

"What kind of meeting?"

Another strained smile. "An important one." I nodded slowly.

"With Sam Uley?"

Shit. My teeth slammed down on my tongue and my eyes flew open wide. I hadn't meant to say it, really I hadn't. The gears in my head had started turning the moment he said he wasn't staying, and I just couldn't help my reaction.

Guess this means I believe he's in the cult then.

Jared's eyes darkened and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. I could feel his piercing gaze inside my bones, burning deep inside of me, and I realized with a shock of intuition that I was afraid of him. I was afraid of Jared.

His eyes narrowed and then his face broke in an unexpected smile. He barked in laughter and shook his head. "Yeah, with Sam Uley."

I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding as the irrational fear evaporated, and a small smile took control of my features. Jared locked eyes with me for a second – just one second – and my knees got all wobbly. Then he smiled and I had to lean against his car just so I wouldn't fall over.

A car horn behind the Jeep startled both of us out of our own private thoughts.

"Hang on a second!" Jared shouted out his window at the small line that had formed behind him. "We still on for this weekend?" He asked me hurriedly, still smiling so blindingly I could hardly think.

"Uh…um…"

Another brilliant reply from Team Miller.

The angry line of people honked their horns in unison and I jumped, suddenly feeling the pressure of being in the spotlight.

"I uh…"

Someone else blasted their horn. "Come on Kim," Jared urged softly.

"My…my dad doesn't want me to go with you." I blurted, my voice shaking terribly. Jared's face fell, but I could still see a spark of his smile in his eyes.

"Oh…what do you want to do?"

I gasped, glanced at the growing line of pissed off cars and answered without thinking.

"I want to be with you," I whispered so quietly I didn't think he could possibly have heard me. I hoped he hadn't – I sounded like an idiot.

"Great, so…see you Saturday?" He repeated his earlier question, a radiant smile lighting his features. I couldn't breathe. My fingers fumbled with my backpack straps and I turned on my heel to leave.

"Yeah," I yelled over my shoulder. "Saturday's good..." I let my voice trail off until his voice broke the long droning sound of mine.

"Pick you up at five…in the morning." It was a good thing he drove away right then, because my brain exploded about two seconds later.

Kim Miller didn't do five in the morning. She barely did ten in the morning.

Just fucking fabulous.

xXx

I spent the entire school day visualizing Jared Brooks with leaves tied to his head, dancing around a fire and chanting some weird voodoo-magic thing while simultaneously chewing on a bloody human leg and kicking puppies. That was what you did at cult meetings…right?

Maybe not – maybe Jared was in a…cool cult? One that like, played in giant ball pits and partied with non-creepy clowns, wore luau paraphernalia and sang twang-ey country ballads with Las Vegas rodeo champions or something.

Clearly, the rebellious side of my brain was not the brightest side of my brain – or even the shiniest. I had deliberately disobeyed my father – which had never happened before – and was now for sure, one hundred percent, going out with Jared Brooks on Saturday.

At five o'clock in the morning. In all my years of admiring Jared, I had never realized that the ungodly beautiful man was a morning person. A morning person? That wasn't possible. Jared was perfect – how could he have such a…disease?

I only knew one other human being on the entire planet who enjoyed the cursed time of day, and that was my father – the very same father that was going to skin me and make a trophy out of my dead body when I told him what I'd done.

There was a part of me that wanted to just not go on Saturday – act like I'd forgotten all about it and save my own ass so I could live to see another day; but then there was the Kim side of my brain. The Kim side, couldn't bare the idea of passing up a date with Jared Brooks, even under pain of death. The Kim side wanted to go; to break the rules and be a…teenager for once.

The Kim side won. I was going to wake up at five in the morning, and get in a car with Jared. We were going to drive four hours to Seattle and…what? Hang out? I didn't even know what we were supposed to be doing in Seattle, but I would be with him so it didn't matter. We could have been clipping our fingernails for all I cared.

The wall I kept running into was the how. I had a serious problem lying to my father – not a morality problem…I just couldn't do it. Not even to be with Jared. So, the way I saw it, I had two choices.

Choice number one: I tell my father the truth – and run like hell for a bomb shelter somewhere in northern Germany…just to be safe. My father didn't exactly have a history in angry bouts of destruction; but you never knew. Mailmen went crazy all the time and my father was a prime candidate under the circumstances.

Choice number two: Since lying wasn't an option, I could simply avoid my father. It would be tricky, especially with a testosterone filled house that favored attention; but I could do it. I was the only girl in the house and so I had a few rights to privacy. If I turned on the waterworks and yelled about my feelings or something, fake PMS could save me from facing my father at all until Saturday morning.

If I got caught leaving the house at five however, my cover would be blown. I doubted that there was anyone in my family that didn't know of my downright hate of mornings – so seeing me downstairs, ready to go, and out the door before ten on a weekend would definitely draw some unwanted attention to my situation.

I was – for lack of a better term – in a pickle. At least, that's what Heather said when I called her that night, distraught and confused like a little sixth grader who's got her first date. I hadn't exactly explained the entire situation – none of the cult business or possible fatherhood was mentioned – but just kept things simple. My daddy didn't want me dating Jared, and I had gone behind his back and said yes anyways.

Heather had been the right person to go to – she was a master at lying to authority figures.

"Oh my, my, my. What will we do to solve this conundrum?" She teased, her breath making an annoying crackling sound into the phone.

"Come on Heather!" I whined and collapsed noisily onto my bed. "Don't mock me this is a critical situation! My father is going to murder me – do you want that? Do you want me to die?" It was hard not to laugh at how hysteric my voice was, but somehow I managed it. Heather however, did not. It was a full three minutes before she could calm down enough to speak.

"Take it easy drama queen, I've got a plan." Her voice was absolutely seething with pride. Though I loved the girl, and she was probably one of my best friends in the entire world; but in the past her plans had been…disastrous at best. Like the time she decided we could outrun the train on her brother's dirt bikes; or the time she told me I could fly if I taped garbage bags to my arms and jumped from the highest point in her grandfather's shed…alright so I'll admit those catastrophe's weren't completely Heather's fault; but they'd all been her ideas.

"What kind of plan?" I asked warily.

I could almost hear the smile on her face as she answered:

"A genius one."