"You should have let me hit her," I said, scrubbing my body down in Paul's shower. The water pressure sucked, but it was scolding enough for me to feel some relief. Between Emily outing me to my parents and my mother's stuttering questions and tears, I couldn't get myself clean enough. After I realized that the secret I had been hiding for months was out, all I remember is my body lunging for my cousin's open throat and her smug face. My hands had just reached her when Sam's ferocious growl was enough for Paul to wrap his arms around my body and pull me outside.

"What would that have solved, Lee?" Paul asked from the other side of the curtain. He was sitting on the toilet waiting for me to get out of the shower, per my request.

"My itch to punch her in her face," I answered, running my hands over my wet hair. The water poured down my face, gifting me with a sense of temporary calm and peace.

"And then what would have happened?"

"I would have felt better because I punched her in the face," I said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Turning the shower off, my eye caught Paul sticking his arm in to hand me a towel. I wrapped myself in the small, brown towel and stepped out of the shower. Paul was facing the door with his head down. I felt a little tickled, "You don't have to turn around," I told him.

He started to look at me and then shook his head, "No, it's alright. Do your thing."

I was trying not to fixate on what happened, but I couldn't help myself! It just replayed over and over and over again; then I would keep bringing it up to Paul over and over again. The look on her face right before she opened her mouth was burned into my brain. So evil. So nasty.

It was almost impressive. She would never usually drop her façade in front of people like that, especially not my parents. I managed to get myself dressed while still bitching about the situation. "I should go back over there and rip her a new asshole," I rambled. I didn't even care if Paul was listening anymore. He was just sitting there on his bed, watching me with his eyebrows raised. Throwing my wet hair into a bun on top of my head, I nodded, "Yeah, I'm going back over there."

Determined to finish this confrontation, I headed for the door. Paul sighed behind me, "No, Lee, you can't go back over there. Just sleep on it."

"I still had time!" I exclaimed. "I had so much more time to figure out what I was going to do…how I was going to tell them…" I paused and looked at him, "or if I wanted to stay."

He met my eye, "You'd need a pretty good reason to stay."

I bit my lip and said softly, "Maybe I have one."

It took a second for him to register what I meant and I watched the lightbulb go off in his head. All of this, everything that we were doing, was still so new, but I couldn't deny what I was feeling for him. And even without saying a word about it, other than that night in my room, I knew he had feelings for me too. Was that enough to stay in La Push? I wasn't sure. Paul cleared his throat, a little uncomfortable with the silence, and spoke, "Let's just get dinner started. That should take your mind off of things."

He may not always have the words, but I could always tell when he was on the same page as me. He took my hand, entwining our fingers, and walked us to the kitchen. He very casually kissed the back of my hand before letting go and pulling out pots and pans. "What do you feel like eating?" he asked. "Burgers, pasta, or fish fry."

"Mmm," I said, thinking about it, "let's do pasta."

"Pasta it is," he said glancing over his shoulder and winking at me. I felt myself smile before I let myself wander around the empty living room. There were big scratches in the hardwood floor and dust in the corners. You could still see small glints of shards of glass near the baseboards, probably from old liquor bottles. The wallpaper was yellowed from years and years of Randall and Diana chain smoking. And there was not one single picture of them as a family or even of Paul growing up in any frame on the mantle.

My heart ached to think about me complaining about my juvenile problems while Paul was literally missing the people that brought him on this earth. He probably thought I was the most self-centered person in the world. I could think of a million reasons why Diana and Randall being gone was a good thing, but those reasons don't matter. What mattered most was that he was hurting. It was evident in his eyes, every single time he thought I wasn't looking. After years of being neglected and rejected by them, they finally left for good and left him nothing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a light flick on from outside the window. My dad unconcernedly stepped outside and set a pack of Chips Ahoy cookies on the porch rail before going back inside. I pursed my lips and continued to watch out the window to see if he was going to do what I thought he was going to do. When Daddy came back outside, it was with two glasses of milk. He placed them next to the cookies and disappeared inside once again.

I immediately headed outside before I could even think about it. Before I got to the door, I turned back to Paul who was stirring something in a pot. Stepping behind him, I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my face on his back. He glanced back at me and asked if I was starting to feel better. I nodded, kissing between his shoulder blades. "I'll be back, ok?"

When I was a little girl, my dad told me that everything could be made better with milk and cookies. He was right. Anytime I was upset, Dad and I would sit on the couch, eat Chips Ahoy, and I would tell him all about my problems. My dad always knows the right thing to say.

It had been so hard not to spend time with my dad lately. How do you maintain a relationship when you're both hiding something? I've been hiding my college aspirations and he's been hiding whatever he knows that's going on with Sam and Jared. I wished that he trusted me enough to tell me.

I dragged one of the chairs until they were right next to each other right as Dad came outside with a blanket big enough for both of us. I lowered myself into the seat with a sigh; he handed me a glass of milk before sitting down next to me. My father always read me really well. Even as a small child, I felt like no one really understood me the way my father did. He never pried; he always let me come to him. This time felt different. We didn't speak for a long time; we were both just enjoying the howl of the wind and the gentle tapping of the rain drizzle on the roof.

"Don't eat all of the cookies this time," he joked, bumping my shoulder. I smiled before grabbing a cookie and breaking it in half.

"No promises," I answered. I reached over in front of us to grab the fleece blanket, draping it over both of our legs. Scooting closer until our arms were touching, I was taken in by Dad's familiar scent. He always smelled of saltwater and sandalwood. His hair was graying a lot in the past year, but I think it just made him more distinguished in his age. I chewed on the cookie for a long time before skeptically turning to him, "Are we doing this now?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Up to you, baby girl."

I sighed and thought through what I wanted to say before I just blurted it out. I was about to be an adult and absolutely capable of making my own decisions. But I also needed to trust my parents enough to know that anything I decide, they'll back me. Even if they think it was a bad idea. "Things are changing," I started. He made a small hum of acknowledgement and nodded, dipping his cookie in his milk. "Some are out of my hands and some…I'm making myself."

"Like?"

Why wait? If I was going to be honest, it needed to be the full story. "About a year ago, I got an email from NYU about their admissions and most popular majors or something like that. It was this picture of one of the buildings in the city and I was just speechless at how beautiful it was. Sam and I had gotten into this big blowout and then I remembered arguing with Mom about something that same week; I was feeling really sad and just…trapped. So I clicked on their website. I found out they have the most incredible art history and fine arts program and I ended up printing out the application.

"I felt so guilty at even thinking about leaving you guys behind that I shredded it the next day. But I don't know what happened; I caught the travel bug or something and I was looking at all of these other schools around the country to see what they had to offer. And then I just applied to as many as I could."

I listened to my dad munch before he swallowed. "Well, Leah honey, that's perfectly normal. Where did you apply?"

"Columbia, NYU, Duke, UMiami…" I trailed off.

"Uh huh, where else?"

"Tulane, Boston University, Wake Forest, Pepperdine…"

"Keep going."

"University of Chicago, Vanderbilt, Penn…"

"Is that it?"

I shook my head. "Northwestern, Georgetown…" I paused. "Peninsula and UW."

"All acceptances?" he asked. He let out an impressive whistle when I nodded. "That's impressive."

"Thank you," I mumbled, swirling my glass around.

I waited for the scolding. The guilt trip. The 'I'm so disappointed in you keeping this from us, Aileah.' But it never came. Instead, he let out a hearty chuckle. I turned my head to face him, bewildered at his amusement. He settled his chuckles with a sigh and said, "Every time I think you're more like your mother, part of me shines through like a goddamn bright light."

"What do you mean?"

Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in so he could kiss me on the forehead. "Baby girl, there's nothing wrong with wanting to leave La Push. I get it," he told me. I watched his face to wait for him to continue. He looked like he was grappling with what to tell me and what not to tell me. "I was feeling the same things when I was your age."

"Really?" I said, perking up a little.

He nodded, "I had this dream of going to Los Angeles to go to film school. I just knew in my soul that I wanted to be a film producer like Orson Welles."

"You would have been good at that," I smiled. My dad was a huge movie buff and sometimes would make commentary on how he would have directed a scene. He had an artistic eye, for sure. "Who's Orson Welles?"

"Citizen Kane?" he hinted. He deflated when I shook my head. "Anyways, I had this whole plan to move to Los Angeles to pursue film. I trusted my eye and my gut. I wanted to put all of this behind me so I could start fresh."

"What happened?"

He grinned, "I met your mom. At the diner, actually. Billy asked me to go with him so he could meet this girl, your Aunt Sarah, and he told me she was bringing a friend. I knew who she was, but we ran in completely different circles. She just blew me away; she was this incredibly beautiful, funny girl who made obscure movie references and called me out on my shit. She was the one."

"So, you stayed for Mom," I concluded. "You stayed because you fell in love?"

"Not exactly," he said, looking up at the trees, as if the memories were hanging in them. "We spent the whole summer together before senior year started. I was head over heels for her, but she wanted to stay here and knew I wanted to leave. She was supportive of that. We even took a trip to LA for a weekend."

"So, what happened?" I asked.

"We broke up not long after that trip because we were too busy for each other. And then I got rejected from film school. I was crushed. I didn't have a back-up plan. Or 15," he teased. "I was trying to figure it out though. A few weeks later, Sue asked me to meet her at the diner. Said she had something to tell me. I thought she had met someone else. But that's not what it was at all."

He paused for a second to look at me. Dad tucked my stray hairs behind my ears before stroking his thumb across my cheek. "She was pregnant…" I whispered.

Dad nodded. "Our baby girl was born premature, 5 pounds, 5 ounces, and a fighter. And you have kept us on our toes ever since."

I chewed on my lip as I digested his words. "But…if she hadn't gotten pregnant, you would have still left."

He sighed, "I remember asking her to come with me. I also remember struggling with the idea of leaving her and my parents behind, much like you. I think there are some things that are destined to happen though. You were always meant to be here and I was always meant to be your dad.

"So, after we both graduated high school, I found a job working for the Council and I loved it. I took a couple of film classes at Peninsula, but it just didn't compare to watching you grow up. I kept film as a hobby though and you were always right there next to me. Then one day, you picked up a camera and held it up to your face; it felt like this sign that you, in some way, would pick up my love for art. You were only 2 years old, but I felt it.

"My point is," he paused. "Mine might have been a pipe dream, but, baby girl, yours isn't. That's evident in you being accepted into so many schools. I would do it all over again if I knew I could give you the world that you want."

"But what about Mom? She's always asked me to do something more practical. I kind of just assumed that you agreed with her."

"We're both on your team," he told me. "Your mom just worries. The world is big and scary, Leah. She wants you to be safe, but I know how important it is to step outside your boundaries."

I contemplated his words. They made sense. I just wish it hadn't felt this complicated. "I just didn't know how to tell you guys. And I thought if I waited too long…maybe I'd find a way to be happy here. I thought Sam and nursing school and babies were somehow going to be my life's plan. But then he started skipping school and yelling at me and then…this whole Emily thing. It was like this big flashing sign telling me to get out."

"Then what happened?"

I watched the cookie crumble between my fingers. "Paul happened…" I said.

"Ah," Dad nodded. "Honestly, if that boy knew what was good for him, he'd get out of here too. I don't want to see him end up like Rand. Especially now that…" he trailed off. Dad shook his head, "Never mind. I stand by what I said. He needs to get some life in him."

"I think so too," I agreed. We sat quietly. I could hear Seth yelling at his video game from his open window directly above us. Looking across the yard, I could see Paul walking from the kitchen into his bedroom and then back again. The thought of one of my parents seeing us that night haunted me for a second. "He's been good for me," I told my dad.

"I can tell," he said honestly. "You can stay with him until we get this Emily situation under control. But the second Randall and Diana come back, you bring your butt back home."

If he only knew… "Yes Dad."

XXXXXXXXX

He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. He always looked stern when he was moving through his day. But right now, he was at peace. I traced a finger gently down the bridge of his nose and watched him sigh, contently. I leaned forward and placed a ginger kiss on his lips. He flinched before relaxing.

Paul had offered to sleep on the floor next to the bed when I came back, but I told him that was dumb and he should be able to enjoy his own bed. He somewhat hesitantly climbed in next to me, sleeping only under the comforter, not the sheet. I couldn't sleep though. I was thinking about everything my dad told me. All it takes is one event to completely change the course of your life. My dad had to figure out a whole new life because of me.

Maybe this meant that I'm supposed to do something huge to make him proud. The least I could do was give the world a chance. Play by my own rules. Do what I want to do.

I kissed Paul's lips again, a little harder. It took a second, but I felt him lazily kiss me back. "Why are you awake?" he whispered against my lips.

"I can't sleep," I whispered back.

Paul's eyes began to open, heavy with sleep. He wiped a hand down his face before shifting onto his back. "We have school in the morning," he rasped. "You need to get some rest."

He opened his arms to invite me in for a cuddle. I snuggled up close to him, sliding my arm around his torso. My wheels were turning. He began to softly snore again. My head popped up to look at him. I poked his cheek. He moved away from my prodding. "Paul…" I loud whispered.

"Go to sleep, Clearwater," he said sternly. I rested my chin on his chest, staring at his face. It took a second before his eyes popped open again. "That doesn't look like sleeping."

"I have a question," I said. He raised an eyebrow. "What if we didn't go to school tomorrow?"

"You never skip."

I shrugged. "There's a first time for everything. We should do something fun."

He chuckled. "Like what? Watch Grey's Anatomy again?"

"No," I sighed. "What about San Juan?"

His brows knit together. "San Juan Islands? That's 5 hours away, Lee."

I looked up at him through my lashes and smiled coyly, "Aren't you the one that told me to live a little?"

He smirked at me, remembering his words. Then he shook his head before rolling over and going back to sleep.

At the crack of dawn, we were in the car heading north. Windows down, music blaring, going 90 in a 75. I usually hated watching the sunrise, but the sky was a beautiful orange that morning. Mom and Dad used to take us to San Juan all the time when we were kids. It's just this magically wonderful place where you can do everything under the sun. From ziplining to whale watching, it used to be one of my favorite places to visit. San Juan was our SeaWorld…without the animal cruelty. It took two hours to drive and then three hours on the ferry; that was plenty of time to talk and laugh and eat breakfast. Paul and I shared a croissant breakfast sandwich and watched all of the excited children run around. At one point, he turned to me and said, "Remember when that was us?" and I just smiled.

It was a beautiful day! It was that time a year for the annual concerts and festivals. People from all over the west coast come to San Juan to take in the beautiful views and wonderful talent of local musicians and artists. Other teenagers, clearly skipping like us, walked around the festival grounds with ice cream cones and cotton candy. I saw this older couple sitting on a bench, the gentleman leaning down to kiss the lady on the forehead.

Paul and I stopped in front of one of the stages to watch this indie band perform. The lead singer was beautiful; her brown hair was wild and fizzy, framing her face. She moved gracefully across the stage as the notes flowed flawlessly from her mouth. She sang about broken love; two people who love each other so deeply but just can't get the timing right. The airy music was the perfect soundtrack for a beautiful morning. Then, as the day progressed, the music began more playful and faster paced.

People around us were swaying and bobbing to the beat of the music, under the warm sun. Paul and I stayed to listen for a while, dancing every once and a while. He grabbed my hand and spun me around before pulling me close to him. I noticed how he kept a couple of inches in between us, his hand firmly placed on my hip. Smiling up at him, I lifted his hand and watched as he turned himself around, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

I could tell there was something on his mind that day, but I didn't want to bother him with questions. After staying for a show or two, we wandered around the land. We had the whole day to do whatever we wanted. It was just like old times; we went to the arcade and goofed around in the antique shops. I stumbled upon one of those photobooths and made Paul take pictures with me. He looked at me in amusement and called me a cliché; I told him to stop being so uptight, like he had told me a million times before. Sometime in the afternoon, we found ourselves in the gallery, speaking in hushed tones and brushing against each other every five seconds. Looking at all of the Native art, I was filled with such joy and excitement. "So, they have a bunch of pieces from reservations all over the west coast," I told Paul. He stood behind me, studying some masks on the wall. "Tlingit and Kwaguilth and even Makah are here. It's like a living anthology of how our cultures have evolved from each other."

"Why aren't we in here?" he asked.

I shrugged, "You know how protective the Council is about our art," I answered. "I kind of like that our stuff is only ours."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it's like our secret."

Most of the art was nature focused. Every piece was a deeper look into how people view the natural world and everything is symbolizes. I stayed to admire a painting while Paul wandered off into another room. When I found him, he was staring intently at a statue. His brows were knitted together as he cocked his head to the side. I appeared beside him and saw a beautiful piece I had seen before in my art history class. "This is the Wolf Dancer," I spoke lowly to him. "It's Alaskan."

"How do you know all this stuff?" he asked, glancing at me over his shoulder.

"One of us has to pay attention in class," I teased, bumping him. "What do you see?"

His jaw clenched as he studied it more. "It just looks like…a man to me. I can't stop looking at it though."

I nodded, "It's a gorgeous piece of art so that's understandable."

"No…it feels like something else. I don't know," he sighed. "What do you see?"

"Well, you know the wolf dance is about the ritual of young men being overtaken by the wolf spirit. It's kind of similar to those weird legends that Billy Black is always telling at bonfires. So you can look at it like he is just a wolf dancer. A participant in this tradition, but see how his arms are stretched out wide?" I asked, pointing. Paul nodded. "Part of me thinks that he's in the midst of a transformation. The change from man to wolf."

He snorted, "Yeah, as if that's possible."

"In art, everything is possible," I told him, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He wandered closely behind me throughout the rest of the gallery before we left to go to the beach. In the distance, you could see whales pop their heads out of the water for the tourists. The wind blew over us a little, the saltwater spraying our faces a little. The nostalgia was a little overwhelming for me. Ever since my dad's confession that he was so close to leaving La Push behind to be in film, it felt like a lot more things made sense. "Do you remember when Mom and Dad would bring us every year for film fest?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," Paul chuckled. "Film fest was the first time I learned what a vacation was."

Mom and Dad would pull Paul, Seth, and me out of school for a full week, every October to come to San Juan Islands to go to their annual film festival. I had never seen my parents drop that much money on anything before. The three kids would stay in a separate room in one of the bed and breakfasts and we could really do whatever we wanted. We went every year until Paul and I started high school. By then, we were too busy with everything else. I had volleyball; Paul had football. We were growing up.

Paul sighed beside me, but it just sounded so dejected and sad. "It's kind of hard to think that this could be the last time I get to be out here with you," he admitted, "you know, before you leave."

I blinked in surprise before I turned to him. He was sitting a very obviously intentional distance away from me. His forearms were resting on his knees as he stared out to the ocean. "Is that why you're being so weird?" I asked.

"Am I being weird?"

I gestured toward the empty space between us. "Are you?" I challenged.

He blew out a breath before scooting closer to me. With juuust a little room for Jesus. "It doesn't feel fair," he said quietly. Then he laughed humorlessly. "Then again, is anything actually fair?"

"What are you talking about, Paul?"

When he looked at me, it was guarded. "I don't know what to do, Lee. I don't know how I'm supposed to say goodbye to you when it's time. I…" he trailed off for a second, "I finally have you and I still can't have you. The timing just sucks, I guess…"

He looked like he had something else to say, but his words stopped there. I didn't know what to say either. There were so many things that I was feeling and I wasn't sure how to make it better. "It doesn't have to be goodbye," I said to him.

"Be real, Clearwater. As soon as you step foot outside this place, you're not coming back."

"That's not true."

"How is it not true?"

"I have a whole life here!" I exclaimed. "My parents, Seth, the twins, you. I would never just turn my back on that."

A small family passed us, rendering us to silence. The little boy chased the younger girl down the shoreline, kicking up as much sand and water as possible. I watched them for a few seconds, joyed by their joy. The parents weren't far behind, hands entwined, just strolling down the beach. "I'm…" Paul started before taking a deep breath. "I'm falling in love with you, Lee. But I'm never going to be the person that asks you to stay for me. I'm not Sam. And I'm not going to ask you to come back if you don't want to come back."

My heart skipped. "What did you just say?"

"I…fuck," he cursed. "I didn't want to tell you this way. I almost didn't want to tell you at all. This sucks. Being here with you, sleeping next to you at night, cooking dinner for just us, it all feels like…"

"Something you want to get used to?"

He nodded.

"So come with me," I blurted. He immediately started to protest, but I put a hand on his arm to stop him. "We've talked about getting out of here our whole lives. Right now, I have the ticket to do just that. In 6 months, we could be sitting on the fire escape of a tiny Brooklyn apartment or listening to jazz in the French Quarter or hanging out on South Beach."

He chuckled mirthlessly as he shook his head, "It all sounds great, but you don't even know where you want to be yet."

"Does that matter?" I asked seriously. I shifted my whole body until I was facing Paul. "You're not the only one feeling this way, Paul. A future doesn't end in La Push. We could figure this out, the two of us; come with me."

He searched every part of my face to see if I was serious. I looked back at him, unblinking, showing him that, yes, I meant it; yes, I had feelings for him; and yes, I could see us together outside of La Push. "What would I even do?" he asked, nervously.

I smiled, "Whatever you wanted. Go to cooking school during the day, work some janky part time job on the weekends, and then we can just be together every second we can. You and I…we get to know the world as much as possible and do what we want to do, not what our parents or our friends or anyone else wants us to do. Dad thinks it would be so good for you to get out; if you come with me, we can take care of each other like we always have. We could both have a real chance to do something amazing for our future."

He hesitated before putting his hand over mine and linking them together. "So, what are you saying, Clearwater?"

I leaned over and kissed his lips ever so softly. "I'm saying I'm falling for you too," I whispered. "I don't want me leaving for college to be the end. Don't let it be the end."

XXXXXXXXX

We fell into a nice little groove after that day. I spent most of my days at Paul's where we started acting like an old married couple, taking naps and finishing all thousand seasons of Grey's. When I wasn't at Paul's, I was sleeping on the couch at my house, avoiding my bedroom at all costs. We hadn't had sex since that night, but neither of us really minded it; we just enjoyed being with each other. I got him to actually consider going to school for his passion; he fought me on it for so long. Paul thought that he didn't have the level of talent to go to cooking school, but he was wrong.

Emily surprised all of us by moving in with Sam a few weeks after I caught them in my bed. I happened to be walking up to the house when she came outside with her bookbag on her back and her suitcase trailing behind her. We didn't speak to each other. Her eyes were just filled with spite and evil as she passed me. It didn't matter though. Now that my family knew I was thinking about leaving, I could actually start to consider it seriously.

Speaking of leaving, Bex finally told Rachel, Jacob, and Billy that she wanted to go to school in Hawaii. While Billy was ultimately unshocked by his child's shock-value antics, Rachel and Jacob's reactions were more than over the top. Rachel was trying to wrap her mind around not being next to her twin every day for the rest of her life; Jacob was stoked to be able to visit the island whenever he wanted.

I'm not gonna lie, I was getting really excited about life after high school now. Not only was I falling in love with my best friend, but I was this close to figuring out where we both would thrive. Most nights were spent looking at breathtaking pictures of my options. As we neared closer to graduation, I found myself between New York, Boston, and New Orleans. Columbia, Boston University, and Tulane, to be exact. "Why do you have to go so far, Leah?" my mom had pouted.

"Craving adventure, Mama!" I told her, kissing her cheek. "But I'll always visit, I promise."

We spent all spring break riding our parents' boats and living it up as much as possible before the end. Or the beginning. Or the beginning of the end, maybe? Anyways, I was feeling good; life with Paul was so easy. Sure, the infamous group of six had drastically changed in the course of a few months, but it was almost better that way. Instead of six, now it was only four of us. Jared was busy following Sam around like a lost puppy dog. Not only that, but these two sophomores, Embry and Quil I think, started going through the same weird growth spurt and exploding anger; it wasn't long before they were following Sam around too.

None of the adults wanted to really acknowledge what was happening and that didn't seem right to me, but what could I do? Bex said that Billy was being super secretive too, not so subtly alluding to some big changes coming to the reservation. She said that, as long as Jacob stayed out of it, she didn't care. We had two more months before we were out.

A year ago, I would have been completely obsessed with getting ready for prom and making sure that everything was perfect. Rachel, Rebecca, and I would be on our way to Port Angeles to shop in the one prom shop in the area. I would be sending Sam his tux options and color-coordinating everything down to his pocket square. A year ago, everything needed to be exactly right.

This year, Paul surprised me with that spontaneity that I'd always loved. The night before prom, he looked at me and said that he booked us a hotel room in Seattle for the weekend. I guess that travel bug got him good. I didn't have to worry about making sure that my dress would fit the day of; no struggling to breathe because I had one too many of Paul's homemade cinnamon rolls or stuffing my bra the day of because my boobs were swollen when I bought it. Instead, I was packing snacks and making sure that my car had enough gas to get us there. I was scratching the back of Paul's head as he drove, watching the small smile form on his face because it felt good. Rachel had told me before we left that she was sad I wouldn't be going to prom, but she loved how happy I looked.

We ripped our way through Seattle, laughing and dancing and…living. I could feel myself getting high on that feeling. Breathing in the big city life was much more comfortable than I expected. Paul looked like he was having a good time too. He even got to talk to the chef at one of the restaurants we went into. When Chef Owen made a surprise appearance at our table to ask how we liked the food, Paul showered him with compliments and then asked him something about his technique while braising or broiling something. We ended up staying after hours to Chef Owen and Paul could talk more. He was hanging onto the chef's every word. Nearing midnight, Owen gave Paul his card and told him, "Whenever you're ready to work, give me a call."

Now here we were. Graduation day. As I stared at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a little sad in all of this happiness. It was all just a little bit bittersweet. The days in my hometown were officially numbered. And nothing was the way I thought it would be. It was my last summer with my best friends. My last summer before stepping into the real world and learning who I wanted to be. And I would be doing all of it with the person I want by my side. That's all that mattered.

"Shit…" Speak of the devil. "These pants don't fit," he grumbled. I turned around and saw him staring down at his only pair of slacks, which were about two inches too short. He was feeling a touch stressed this week, but I was hoping it wouldn't affect his mood too much tonight. We had graduation, family dinner, and then our last party on the beach as high school students.

"Did you grow overnight or something? You just wore those to senior dinner," I said, putting my mascara down.

He shrugged. "I don't have anything else to wear."

"Just take them to my mom. She can figure out how to fix them," I told him, standing up. We still had time before we had to be at the school. I wrapped my arms around his waist to hug him and was thrown off by how warm he was. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, it's just hot in here," he said, looking down at me. He captured my lips quickly before stepping away from me to take off his pants. "I'll be back, baby."

Mom saved the day, of course. Then we were at our school, for the last time. All of the students were crowded in the parking lot, a sea of maroon caps and gowns. Paul held my hips as I guided us through the crowd, looking for Rachel and Rebecca. My heels made up for that strange additional two inches that Paul had grown overnight, and I could feel him easily press a kiss to the back of my head. "We did it," he whispered in my ear. "We finally made it out."

To my surprise, Jared was with the twins, waiting to walk in with the rest of the graduates. He looked about as normal as he could be. He had a bright smile on his face and his tall frame was bouncing up and down in anticipation. Rachel and Rebecca looked like ants compared to his giant. But as soon as he saw Paul, he stopped bouncing and just scanned his body from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He reached around Rachel's head to give Paul the man-shake, eyeing him closely. "How's it going, brother? You feelin' alright?" Jared asked.

"I'm fine, bro. Living the life. Everything good?" Paul returned.

Jared shrugged. "It is what it is, my man," was all he said.

"What is this man-speak?" Bex asked, craning her neck to look at both of them. "Can't you guys just talk like regular people?"

Paul chuckled at Becca before looking at Jared, "Let's hook up at the beach party later, bro."

Principal River's assistant, Ms. Cheyenne, called for everyone to line up in order by last name. So, Rachel and Rebecca stood in front of Jared who stood in front of me. I couldn't even see over him, he was so tall now. I glanced behind me to see Paul dap up Ollie Jennings before standing behind him. He caught my eye and winked at me. I felt my cheeks flush before glancing down the rest of the line. Right there at the end was my cousin, smiling up at my ex-boyfriend as she took his cap off her head and leaned up to place it back on his head. He gave her the most pure and loving look I'd ever seen.

Paul saw me looking behind him and turned his head. When he looked back at me, he shook his head and mouthed, "Don't worry about them." I nodded before turning around and following Jared into the auditorium. Well…it was the cafeteria with fold up chairs, but same thing. Pomp and Circumstance played as we passed all of the parents, older and younger siblings, family friends. Everyone looked so happy and excited for us. I reached for my mom's hand as we passed; she had tears of joy streaming down her face. She squeezed my hand affectionately before releasing it to clap with the rest of the parents. Dad nodded at me, giving me his proud papa look. Seth was pumped his fist in the air, the little weirdo.

"Welcome, friends, family, faculty, staff, and the Class of 2014," Principal Rivers' voice boomed through the speakers. He droned on for way too long about his favorite superhero and somehow tied that to our future and our potential. It was Green Lantern, by the way. Green Lantern was his favorite superhero. Green Lantern is no one's favorite superhero.

I leaned over Jared to grab Bex. "How much longer is he going to talk?"

"You know they drag these things out forever. We should have taken a couple of shots before walking in," she whispered.

"Please welcome to the stage our valedictorian, Rachel Black."

Rachel gave this inspiring speech about how all of our lives could be compared to a butterfly's. How we grow from a caterpillar, hungry for life and knowledge, before we are wrapped up in the safety net of our education and our families. "…as we sit here today, surrounded by our loved ones, we know that we are close to being able to spread our wings and flutter out into the world. The potential in all of us is endless…"

I wondered as she spoke if there was ever going to be a time when we were all going to be in the same room again. Would there ever be a time when I will be with this same group of people? If so, would it even be the same? After we walk out of those doors, we will never be the same as we were in those long days in the classroom. But, maybe that was a good thing. We're not meant to stay the same people as we are in high school. If we were, we would never learn.

"…instead of saying this is the end of a chapter, I like to think of it as the beginning. The moment we step across this stage will be the first day of a brand-new adventure. We will explore every corner of the map; we will be subject to successes, failures, love, heartbreak, wonderful friends, and even more wonderful lessons. We, hopefully, will be unafraid to make mistakes and to push our boundaries, no matter how uncomfortable. Every day spent outside these walls is another day for us to learn who we truly are and who we want to be. To my class of 2014, I'm so proud of you and everything you've accomplished so far. And notice, I say 'so far' because we are so far from being finished changing the air around us. Congratulations, graduates! You deserve the world that is now at your fingertips."

We all stood and clapped for Rachel as she looked out to all of us, tears brimming in her eyes. She locked eyes with me and blew me a kiss. I smiled at her and blew one back. My sweet Rachel. Then I watched as her eyes drifted left toward Rebecca, that fateful tear dropping and rolling down her cheek. I knew today would be hard for her. With Bex leaving for Hawaii soon, this would be Rachel's first time away from her twin for more than an overnight stay. Even then, it wasn't often they were going anywhere without each other. Rachel turned and was handed her diploma before she walked off stage and sat next to her twin. I watched them hug for a long time, Bex saying probably the sweetest and most sincere and genuine things ever to her sister.

As we lined up to grab our diplomas, my stomach filled with butterflies. Last summer, I had started looking at this year in terms of steps. First day, midterms, Thanksgiving, finals, Christmas. First day, midterms, spring break, prom, graduation. Every time one of those steps came and went, I would check it off like it was a regular list. But now that I'm standing here, waiting for Principal Rivers to get through the rest of the Bs, I was feeling like I should have cherished more moments with my parents, my brother, my best friends, Paul. Was I in such a rush to get out of here that I breezed through my senior year? "Rebecca Sophia Black," Rivers called. I clapped along with the rest of the auditorium, adding a loud "woo-hoo!" as Bex crossed the stage.

"Jared Cameron." I could hear Pam Cameron clapping harder and louder than anyone else as her only baby boy crossed the stage. I had heard from eavesdropping on a phone call between my mom and Pam that she was worried Jared was skipping so much, he wasn't going to graduate. "I thought they'd have better control over it by now," my mom had said in response. Whatever that meant.

"Aileah Clearwater," yanked me out of my thoughts. It was almost like I was on autopilot. Take a step and another and another. Shake hands with Principal Rivers with right hand, take diploma with left. I hear Seth before I hear my parents. He's the loudest out of everyone, excitable and rowdy. And then I hear Rachel and Rebecca.

And then I hear Paul. "That's my girl!"

I look out to the crowd and see Dad snapping pictures that I make sure to smile bright for. Leah Clearwater, high school graduate. It's about time.

When Paul crossed the stage, he looked as confident as ever. I wondered if he even noticed that his parents weren't there. He was so loved at school though, it didn't matter. Applause and cheers for him were loud and proud. I stood up and clapped for him as he grinned for Dad's camera. My heart swelled. That's my guy. That's my Paul.

I went straight to him when the ceremony was over. I jumped up and wrapped my arms and legs around him, squealing in excitement. He spun me around, a deep sigh of content leaving his body. "I'm so proud of you, Lee," he said in my hair.

"Proud of me?" I asked incredulously. "I'm proud of you!"

XXXXXXXXX

After millions of pictures, so many tears, and countless hugs from classmates I've acquainted with over the years, the rest of the day was kind of a blur. Mom and Dad took us to this cute place in Port Angeles where Mom happy cried into her pasta and Dad showered both of us with compliments.

Dad raised his beer glass in a toast, "Cheers to the graduates. We couldn't be prouder of both of you for your accomplishments."

"Cheers!" Seth exclaimed a little too loud, clinking his water glass to ours.

"So, we actually have a gift for both of you," Mom said, reaching under the table. She pulled out two envelopes, one regular, one manilla, addressed to me and Paul respectively in her perfect cursive writing. "Just a little something to look forward to."

Inside my envelope were, not just one or two, but three plane tickets with my name on them. New York, Boston, and New Orleans. "No way…" I breathed. I looked up at my parents in shock. "No way!"

"Whoa," Paul said next to me. He pulled out the same plane tickets that I had and then a bunch of brochures. I only saw a picture of fancy plated food on the front. "Harry, Sue…I don't know if I can accept these tickets. They must have cost a fortune."

"You shouldn't worry your little head about the cost of a plane ticket," Mom scolded him. "This is your last summer with us and we wanted to make sure that you both get to fly free a little bit. We want to invest in you, both of you."

"We set up some tours for you, Paul. For culinary school. It's time to get real about your future, kid. Don't let your talent go to waste."

Paul stared at the contents of his envelope, rendered speechless. He fingered one of the brochures between his fingers, feeling the thick card stock cover. The Institute of Culinary Education in New York City. "I-I don't know what to say," he said quietly.

"Just say thank you, bro!" Seth said, shrugging dramatically.

Paul blew out an uneasy breath before choking out a 'thank you'. I already knew where his head was. He was nervous about the cost. He was nervous about other people taking care of him. Dad hadn't mentioned Randall and Diana not coming back, but I knew he already knew they were gone for good. He felt guilty that this kid had to deal with these things by himself. He wanted better for Paul. But Paul was prideful; he never wanted to be the charity case. Coming over for dinner and staying over on the couch was different than the possibility of my parents potentially putting him through school. "We just want you to take the tours for now, Paul," Mom said softly. "And then later we can talk about next steps. If you want."

He nodded before asking if we could change the subject. I placed a tender hand on his leg under the table. He looked at me with this emotion filled gaze that I could barely identify one of them. Instead of asking him what was wrong, I just smiled at him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. His skin was really warm against my lips, but I didn't dare mention it. "Just try to relax," I whispered to him. He nodded again, as if that was the only response he could warrant at that moment.

Eventually, he warmed back up and engaged in the rest of our celebratory dinner before we headed back to La Push so we could go to our last high school bonfire at the beach. Before we left for the beach, Paul and I were sitting on his bed, the six tickets laying in between us. He kept staring at them and sighing. "I can't believe this is real," he managed.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He looked up at me and smiled softly. Paul moved the tickets before hooking his hands under my knees and pulling me until I was straddling him. His strong arms wrapped around my waist and he sighed again. "All of this. You. Your family. Graduation. I could only dream that this day would actually come. Now it's here and damn near over."

"This just means we have so much more to look forward to," I told him, brushing his hair away from his forehead. "And right now, we have friends waiting for us at the beach."

He smirked, pulling me tighter. "They can wait."

He kissed me with such love and ferocity, it made me dizzy. I let out a small moan, loving the feeling of his body on mine. It wasn't long before I felt his hands slide under my dress. I didn't mind how warm he was; it felt so good.

I felt my hips start to move against his hardening groin. The friction was perfect. The soft lace of my panties rubbed against the roughness of his jeans. He groaned against my neck, gently biting down. My back arched at the feeling and my eyes rolled back a bit. "I want to make you cum, Lee," he rasped. I gasped quietly at his words. "Can I?"

"Um…" was all I said. His head shot up and he looked at me concerned. I bit my lip and looked down. The truth was that I had only had one orgasm in my entire life and that was the night I showed up at Paul's door soaking wet and needing his presence. "I want you to," I told him. "I-I've just never…"

"Never…?" he prodded.

"Well, n-not never. But I…" I stuttered.

"Lee, talk to me."

I groaned as my head fell on his shoulder. I snaked my arms around his neck and tried to make myself as small as possible. Paul ran his fingers through my hair and tried to coax me into looking at him. I shook my head before blurting, "I've only orgasmed once ever, and I don't know if I'll be able to do it again."

His hand stopped combing through my hair abruptly and he grew quiet. I waited for him to say something, anything. He snorted a laugh, chuckling heartily from the depths of his soul. I looked at him with rage pouring out of me. "It's not funny!" I exclaimed, slapping his chest. I kept hitting him as he continued to laugh. "Paul!"

"Ok, ok, ok," he laughed, grabbing my hands. "I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting that."

"It's not funny," I repeated, pouting.

"You're right, it's not funny," he settled down. "So…Sam never…"

I shook my head.

"Yikes," he said, raising his eyebrows. Then he smirked. "Well, I'm going to have to teach you then."

I yelped as he grabbed two fistfuls of my ass and threw me down on my back. He attacked my neck first, pinning my arms down to the bed. He moved down toward my breasts, his soft lips trailing my skin. I felt like my body was breaking into goosebumps. Paul pulled my dress down, exposing me. "I always want you to feel good," he breathed before taking my breast into his mouth. "With or without me."

"I always feel good with you," I gasped. Paul slipped his hand under my dress and became to touch me through my panties. When I reached for his jeans, he threw my hand away and shook his head. He rubbed my clit over my wet lace underwear. "Wait, I wanna touch you."

He shook his head again as his tongue flicked around my nipple. "It's not about me right now."

It felt like he was teasing me forever. He paid attention to every single inch of my body before he finally pulled my panties to the side, hiked my leg up and held my knee, and pushed his fingers into me. I moaned loudly at the feeling, my back arching off the bed. He moved until he was eye to eye with me again and confidently said, "I'm not going to fuck you again until you learn how to cum."

"That's not fair," I moaned.

"That's why I'm doing this," he told me before crashing his lips to mine. He started thrusting his fingers inside me until I was panting uncontrollably. "Sex should make both parties orgasm, not just the man."

"Can you shut up?" I groaned, grinding against his movement. His thumb popped out and started rubbing my clit back and forth. "Oh god!"

That seemed to spur him on more. He picked up his pace, burying his face in my neck again. He bit down on that place between my neck and shoulder before kissing it softly. I felt my breathing catch as every single muscle in my body started to tighten.

"Don't stop," I moaned. "Paul, please."

He groaned. "Oh, you don't need to beg me, baby. I'm gonna make sure you cum."

I didn't think there was anything that he could do that could guarantee that. I felt it; just like before, I was right on the edge of it, but I was worried I couldn't go over the cliff. And then he did it. He curved his fingers inside me hitting something that had never been touched before. The scream escaped my mouth before I could stop it as I completely shattered. I grabbed his arms to stop him, but he was stronger than me and he let me know he wanted me to ride it out.

I started to come down and I was seeing stars. Paul kissed all over my face and gave me a second to gather myself. I looked at him and he smiled at me and shrugged. "That's my girl."

I was in a daze. Getting redressed and walking to the car and getting to the beach. All of it was a daze. I couldn't stop smiling. My head was just fogged over what just happened. When we finally made it to the beach, it was like walking into a madhouse. Grads everywhere just getting fucked up and throwing things into the fire. Mostly their caps and gowns.

Paul intwined our fingers as we walked toward the beach. We were halfway there when he stopped, "Shit, I forgot something in the car. I'll be right back," and he turned back around.

"Psst! Hey Leah!" I heard. I looked around and didn't see anyone. It was just dark. "Lee! Over here!"

Towards the woods, there was Jared, standing in a pair of really uneven cut-off jeans, no shirt, and no shoes. He was waving his hands over his head to get my attention. I waved back at him before turning around toward the beach.

"Leah," Jared called again. "Come here."

"What's up, Jared?" I asked, walking toward him. He gestured inside the treeline. It wasn't weird. Come on, it was La Push. Most of this place was woods.

Jared faced me and looked all around us. Like he was trying to keep something secret. Like he was avoiding someone. "Hey, so…I know things have been weird lately. But I really need to talk to you."

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

He stopped for a second, listening for something, before looking down at me. "There's a lot of shit going on around here. I can't exactly tell you what, but I just need to say this to you before something happens."

"Spit it out, Jared. You're freaking me out."

He sighed and scratched the back of his head like he always did when he was nervous. Then he dropped his arm, stood straight up, and locked eyes with me. He looked so serious. "You need to get Paul out of here as soon as possible."