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Chapter Two: Research

"Who the fuck are the Cullens?" I whispered back harshly, still a little confused. There was no way these were real high school students. They looked much more like the high school students portrayed in TV and movies—you know, perfect, attractive people who were actually in their 20s playing a 16-year-old.

"I mean, I guess they're not really Cullens," Jessica said thoughtfully, squinting into the distance as if thinking deeply while she took a bite of a carrot stick. "They're all adopted, I mean. By Dr. Cullen and his wife. Oh my God, Doctor Cullen is so dreamy." Her wandering eyes took on a wistful quality, then zoomed back into the Cullen table, hyper-focused as she carefully studied the faces.

"He isn't here," Mike scoffed, rolling his eyes. "He wasn't in Government, at least." I looked at him, my eyebrow knit together, trying to figure out who he was talking about.

Jessica looked starry-eyed as she sighed out the answer to my unspoken question. "Edward Cullen. He's one of the kids; none of them are blood related except for the blonde ones. Those are Rosalie and Jasper Hale, they're twins. I think they're related to Mrs. Cullen by marriage or something." She said all this in record time, despite her glances in the direction of the Cullen table, and I wondered briefly if there was caffeine in the water here or something.

"Jess is in love with Edward Cullen," sneered a nasally voice. A girl with cornsilk blonde hair and mossy green eyes was seating herself a few seats down, near Jessica. "You must be Isabella. I'm Lauren Mallory." She gave me a sarcastic smile and extended a suspiciously pale hand for her otherwise orangish skin tone.

"Um, just Bella," I replied, trying to smile sincerely. The last thing I wanted to do was make an enemy, but I wasn't exactly sure what I had done to apparently incur the wrath of this girl. I took her hand and gave it a friendly shake.

Lauren pulled her hand back quickly, as if retreating from something gross, and flipped her stick-straight hair over her shoulder. "I heard you're from California. Aren't people in California supposed to be tan?"

My mouth opened and closed involuntarily at the blunt question. Mike was rolling his eyes, and Jessica pressed her palm against her forehead, but neither of them made a move to speak up. "Phoenix, actually," I finally said.

She rolled her eyes, calling special attention to the thick black lashes, which looked out-of-place with her pale brows and hair. "Whatever. Same difference."

"I just burn easily, I guess."

Lauren glared at me for a moment, but another tray made an appearance directly across from her and suddenly her entire expression changed. "Tyler, oh my God!" she squealed to the tall, brown-skinned boy sitting down across from her. "Are you gonna be in French this afternoon?" she fluttered her heavy lashes and I had to hold back a sharp laugh. Even I, who had very little experience in the teenage love department, could tell that she was not-so-secretly crushing on him—and that Tyler was completely oblivious.

"Yeah, I guess," the boy said, poking at a soggy French fry on his tray. He scanned the table quickly and his eye fell on me, his face lighting up. "Well hello there! You must be Isabella Swan."

"She goes by Bella," Lauren said sweetly, and I was almost surprised that it was the same voice that had asked me why I wasn't pale.

Tyler nodded and flashed me a blinding smile. "Bella, then. I'm Tyler Crowley, Quarterback." He announced this as if it were some kind of honorific, rather than a football position.

"Yeah, whatever," Mike laughed, elbowing him. "The team sucks. It isn't that impressive." That earned him a swat from Tyler; I returned my attention to Jessica as they squabbled, who was chatting to another brunette girl that had joined us at the table. She was eating gingerly from a brown-bag lunch, but was watching Jessica politely through a pair of wide-framed glasses. She smiled when she caught my eye, and I smiled back.

When Jess finished her story, the girl turned to me. "Hey," she said quietly. "I'm Angela Weber. You're Bella Swan, right?"

"Yeah, that's me," I said, feeling a blush appear across my face again. Apparently, everyone knew who I was—and considering I knew no one, I was at a distinct disadvantage.

"I'm Angela Weber." She gave me a friendly smile. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?" She seemed legitimately caring, and I was immediately relieved she didn't try to bombard me with questions or "catch me up" on all the Forks gossip, as Jessica had been attempting.

For the next ten minutes or so, I faded quietly into the background, nibbling on my food and listening to the conversations going on around me. Besides Mike and Jessica being on the dance planning committee, I deduced that Angela was on the school paper with Eric, who managed the football team that Tyler was on, which held practices at the same time as the cheerleading team which Lauren was on (although how either of those sports practiced in the Forks climate was a mystery to me), and Lauren and Jessica had been friends since they were toddlers. Actually, it seemed like everyone had known each other for years, and I realized that they probably had. My school in Phoenix had well over a thousand students; before that I'd bounced between a handful of gradeschools as Renee and I moved around the city, trying to find the "right fit", as she called it. I'd never made long-term friends. I remembered having a sleepover with a few girls in middle school, and, of course, my lunch table back in Arizona—a tableful of mismatched rejects who spent all of lunch hour with their noses stuck in their books or their laptops. I wasn't any different, either. I'd had no desire to socialize with anyone too seriously. But now… now things were different.

It was when Jessica whipped out her phone to show something on her Pinterest to Mike that she finally called attention to me, whipping her head around to look at me and shrieking mid-sentence. I stared at her, wide eyed.

"What, the hell, Jess?" Lauren cried.

"Bella! I didn't even ask for your Insta! Or—oh my God, I don't even have your number!" She dropped her own phone onto the table and held out her hand expectantly. "Give me your phone. I'm programming my number in."

"I'm next!" Mike called while Jess was punching her information into my phone. I was pink, I could feel it… the phone screen was cracked and it was a few generations old. Jessica's phone was brand new. Never before had I been self conscious about something as silly as a phone—but never before had a tableful of near-strangers passed it around, putting their numbers in and texting themselves.

When the phone finally got back to me, I scrolled through my contacts list. It had been doubled in just a couple of minutes. I hoped they didn't notice. What kind of loser has no numbers except their family and pediatrician? There wasn't a world in which Lauren finding out that I was a social reject in Phoenix would be good.

"Okay, so, what's your Insta?" Jessica asked, holding her thumbs expectantly over her phone keyboard.

My blush darkened. I had an account, but no photos or profile information. The account only existed to browse—and " h3rm10n3_p0tt3r_7" wasn't a username I was willing to be known by.

"Um," I stammered. "I, uh. Don't have one."

Jessica flipped her hair over her shoulder while shaking her head in disbelief, which, actually, was a pretty impressive move. "How? Are your parents, like, super strict or something?" Her large doe-eyes went wide again. "Oh my God, your dad is totally the Chief of Police! Does he, like, not let you have social media and stuff?"

"It's not Char—my dad," I assured her quickly. "I just didn't really see a point to having one before now. But I could check it out tonight and maybe make an account," I said when she only squeaked in response. This seemed to appease her; she nodded and looked at me suspiciously, but was distracted only a moment later by Lauren's discussion of a shopping trip in Victoria.

Lunch passed without much more attention being paid to me. A few minutes before I had to be in biology, Angela looked at the stack of textbooks I was carrying.

"Have you found your locker yet, Bella?" she asked kindly.

I shook my head. "I was going to wait until the end of the day. I didn't even think about having to get all the textbooks." I grimaced at the pile. It wasn't much, but my balance being precarious already; I didn't need more to think about when walking.

"What's the number?"

I glanced down at the binder on top of the books to where I'd hastily scribbled my locker number on my class schedule and recited it to Angela. She nodded and made to stand up.

"That's right by mine. Want to join me? I'll show you where yours it and how the locks work. They're kind of tricky."

Angela was legitimately sweet—the kind of girl I could easily find myself being friends with. As we walked through the nearly empty halls of Forks High, we chatted easily about simple topics—if I was redecorating my room after moving, if the weather would clear up this weekend like the meteorologist had said, if I needed any notes from the first month of school. True to her word, after a quick stop to her locker, we found mine just a section down, and I shoved all the textbooks into it, along with the hoodie that I'd ditched after Government but just carried around. She had biology with me, and we entered the classroom a few minutes before the lunch bell rang. I was hoping to avoid a repeat of the Mr. Varner incident.

Angela introduced me to the biology teacher, Mr. Molina, and went to sit at her table. Mr. Molina gave me a kind smile and asked me a few questions about where I'd been in biology back in Phoenix; it seemed fairly similar to where they were in their unit, and he presented me with yet another thick text.

"The only person without a lab partner right now is Edward Cullen, so you'll be paired with him. I think he's on the absentee roster today…" his eyes skimmed something on his computer screen and he nodded to himself. "Not a big deal. We're not starting a new lab until next week."

I walked in a bit of a daze to the table he'd pointed out. Edward Cullen. I hadn't even seen him yet, but already I was nervous. If Jessica thought that he was the most attractive out of that entire family of godlike beauty, I couldn't even imagine what I'd gotten myself into. I nervously threw my hair back and twisted it into a messy knot on the top of my head. I couldn't remember ever interacting with anyone that came remotely close to how good looking they were.

But that doesn't matter, I told myself firmly. You're just lab partners. All that matters is that you get your work done. I grimaced suddenly—wasn't it a stereotype that beautiful high schoolers were also dumb high schoolers? It wouldn't be the first time I carried a lab partner through a class, but it would mean more work for me.

My fingers skimmed the black tabletop slowly. Suddenly a warm arm was thrown around my shoulder, and I froze.

"Bella," I heard someone cry happily from beside me, but it sounded like my head was in a bowl of water. I took a deep breath as the voice said, "I knew we had this class together! I didn't even see you leave lunch!"

I tried to look up towards his face, but my neck wasn't agreeing with me; I couldn't bring myself to raise my head high enough. My breath quickened again. Did this boy have no sense of personal space?

But my panicked eyes caught a pair of brown eyes, and Angela Weber was coming to my rescue. "Mike," she said to him with a smile, directing him away from me. I felt my body relax a bit and exhaled. She kept him in a conversation that I wasn't part of, giving me a moment to compose myself. I feared for a moment that he might come back to finish whatever it was he was going to say, but Mr. Molina called everyone to the lesson, and I was saved.

The rest of the week went on similarly. I sat at the same table at lunch each day. Angela and I were becoming fast friends, and I was even beginning to feel attachment to Jessica; Lauren, on the other hand, was a lost cause. Her attitude towards me hadn't warmed even a degree since my first day.

Edward Cullen did not return to school. Rumors began to soar by Wednesday that he was suffering a bout of mono; those rumors, in turn, led to even more wild speculation about who exactly he had gotten mono from. On Thursday Mr. Molina assured me that if Edward didn't return by Monday, I could begin the lab with Mike and Sara's group. I smiled but cringed internally. Mike has been getting increasingly friendly with me and didn't seem to understand all the cues that I did not enjoy his physical interactions with me. Angela had managed to distract him from touching me twice more in the course of just that week, and not asked a single question in the process, to which I was eternally grateful.

On Friday morning, I opened my eyes to see rays of sunlight peaking through my curtain. I shot up at record speed and went to open it—the sun was out. I threw open the window and inhaled the scent of sun on wet earth. Of course, I quickly lost my balance leaning on the windowsill, and nearly topped out of the screenless window. When I'd caught myself and shoved the window shut once more, I scoffed.

"Not today, Satan," I grumbled, and went to look for the white eyelet lace blouse I'd worn on my plane ride to Forks. I'd just done a load of laundry the evening before, but hadn't gotten around to putting it away yet. I sifted through the clothes… but the blouse wasn't there. I frowned and pulled everything out one by one. No, it definitely wasn't there… I couldn't remember it specifically from the night before, but I washed everything that had been in the wicker hamper—at least, I thought I did. I checked it again curiously—sure enough, it was completely empty.

I went ahead and dressed in a pair of jeans and a white and purple cold shoulder top that Renee insisted complimented both my skintone and my hair. The sun had me excited, so I even popped on a pair of stud earrings and applied a lip gloss. I smacked my lips nervously and made sure to attach a hair band to my wrist. Lip gloss was the arch nemesis of unruly hair in the wind.

Charlie barged down the stairs as my head was in the dryer, trying to see if the blouse had gotten caught on anything.

"Morning, Bells," he said cheerfully. "Coffee?"

I sighed heavily, standing carefully and slamming the dryer door shut. "Yeah, sure," I said, opening the washer and this time poking my head into it. "Hey, have you seen my white lace shirt anywhere?"

"Sure haven't," Charlie grunted. I sighed, but soon the smell of fresh brewed coffee was flooding through the kitchen, and I forgot the missing blouse altogether.

I got to school with only two minutes to spare before English, but it didn't seem to matter—almost the entire student body of Forks High was hovering on the front lawn, soaking in the rare sunbeams. I glanced around and considered joining them, but quickly set my course for the front doors regardless. I'd grown to like Mrs. Mason more and more in the last week, and was reluctant to be late for her class.

Edward Cullen wasn't in Government. That wasn't surprising—what was surprising was that his family didn't seem to be in school, either. I'd kept track during the course of the week. I passed Rosalie Hale one a day, in the morning after Government and on my way to Trig. After Spanish but before I made it to the lunchroom, I invariably saw Alice Cullen and Jasper Hale huddled near her locker, looking at each other as if there were no one else in the crowded high school hallway. I encountered none of them today, and at lunch, their table sat vacant.

"They skip, like, every time it's nice out," Jessica said by means of explanation when she saw my confused gaze. "Go camping or whatever. They must buy the high-end gear online, because Mike says they never go into Newton's." I nodded slowly and thought about the beautiful blonde girl that usually sat at that table. Somehow, I couldn't picture her camping. The big one, Emmett, certainly, and even Rosalie's twin exuded the air of a survivalist who could walk into the woods armed with only a pocketknife and survive for months. Alice, the only member of the family who had acknowledged my existence thus far with a shy wave the day before, seemed like she would fit in around wildflowers and butterflies. But Rosalie? I couldn't see it.

Of course, I couldn't comment on Edward. I had yet to even see the boy.

That wasn't for lack of trying. It had taken me two nights, but finally on Wednesday after eating dinner with Charlie, I broke down and logged into Facebook. A search for "Edward Cullen" returned several results, but none were in Washington—in fact, none seemed younger than 40. He was adopted, right? So maybe his social media profiles were listed under his birth name. After a moment of contemplation, I had navigated to Jessica's profile. I'd come home after my very first day to a cascade of students from Forks High requesting my friendship on the site; I didn't use it much, but I had to admit, it came in handy for moments like these.

Edward yielded no results in Jess's friends list. I tried Eddie and then Ed, but the only profile to come up belonged to an Ed Stanley—seemingly a relation. I furrowed my eyebrows. I shouldn't have been so surprised that there were no results for him—I mean, I barely used social media myself. I could hardly fault Edward Cullen for doing the same.

But when similar searches for members of his family came up with no results, I became suspicious.

A quick search for Dr. Carlisle Cullen, as Charlie had informed me he was named, pulled up only two instances of those names being used together. One was the website for the Forks Community Hospital, which, I noted, included no photograph with his biography as their Head of Internal Medicine. The other was an article from a medical journal from 1882, available on JStor. The article only listed a Dr. Carlisle Cullen as a contributor to a study; maybe medicine was the family business. But that was it. Those two mentions of a Dr. Carlisle Cullen were the only references I could find to one of the mysterious Cullen's or Hale's at all.

Gym class was just as much of a disaster as could be expected; we were doing a unit on volleyball which resulted in me both getting hit in the head and hitting a redheaded girl I didn't recognize. I was still a little dazed as I walked out to the parking lot after the final bell had run.

"Bella, wait up!" cried a familiar voice. I turned to face in the direction it had come from. "Hey, what's up?" Mike half-panted when he caught up to me. I didn't bother to answer, knowing he meant it as a greeting rather than as a question; sure enough, he continued a half second later. "So, a bunch of us are going out to La Push this weekend for this end-of-season bonfire thing on First Beach." I nodded solemnly, trying to match his expectant tone with my face, but probably failing horribly—I had no idea what he was talking about. "We were gonna meet up with some of the Quileute kids. They tell all these cool old stories and stuff—and Tyler's bringing a keg!" He grinned and looked at me expectantly, but I still didn't know what he was getting at.

"Okay?" I finally asked curiously.

"And you should come!" Mike said, looking at me with a grin.

A smile crept involuntarily across my face. I'd never been invited to anything like this before. In fact, the closest I'd ever come to being "invited" to a social even back in Phoenix was the morning announcements talking about school mixers.

"Oh," I said quietly, unable to contain the smile or my blush. "Yeah. I'd like that a lot."

"Great!" Mike swept me into a brief hug. I felt only a slight annoyance, and was proud of myself for being able to avoid the panic—then felt immediately guilty that I still couldn't bring myself to enjoy harmless, platonic physical contact with someone who I was admittedly coming to consider a friend. "So, I'll text you the details. Tyler's taking a bunch of us in his van. You need a ride?"

I shook my head. Now that my initial surprise had worn off, I remembered that La Push was the Quileute reservation. Maybe I could go up early to visit Jacob and Billy… that would certainly make Charlie happy. "I'll take my truck," I replied.

Mike grinned. "Sweet. Yeah. I get that, I would totally drive down in my car too but my dad's making me give it to my older brother while he's home from college for the weekend." If he thought the hint was subtle, he was wrong.

"Oh… Yeah, that sucks. I was actually gonna head that way early anyway though and meet up with some family friends for lunch." That probably wasn't even a lie—I hadn't actually discussed it with Jake or Billy yet, but it was plenty likely and believable.

Mike's face fell a little. "Right. Awesome. Well I'll see ya there, Bella. I'll text you the info later."

I smiled and waved slightly as he turned, but once he was a few steps away felt the smile slide from my face. My hand fell to my side and I sighed. It was obvious Mike was interested in me. Admittedly, he was nice enough and he wasn't unattractive or anything—despite the babyface—but I just couldn't see myself looking at him with anything more than friendship. The thought of him kissing me nearly made me gag and I hopped into my truck before anyone could notice my discomfort.

As it turns out, I hadn't lied to Mike Newton after all. After telling Charlie about the invite (leaving out the bit about the keg, of course), he called up Billy Black immediately. As it turned out, Jacob was also planning on attending the bonfire—which was apparently some kind of tradition getting together a bunch of teens in Forks and La Push. Charlie and Billy swiftly decided that the Swans would meet the Blacks for lunch and then, later in the afternoon, Jacob and I would head to the beach while Charlie and Billy watched some game that they both seemed pretty excited about.

The sun was still out when Charlie and I arrived at the Black's house the next day. It gave the forests around the reservation a sunny, cheery vibe—something more akin to Disney fairytales than the Brothers Grimm version. I couldn't help the smile on my face when I saw Billy and Jacob lounging on their front porch, with Jake laughing loudly at something his father had said and threatened playfully to push him down the wheelchair ramp.

Father and son were both thrilled to see us. It felt warm—not just from the sun, but from… something inside me that lit up when I saw the smiles. I hadn't felt truly wanted in a long time—not like this. Not in a way that felt this comfortable.

It was easy to sit and listen to Jake and our dads talk and tease each other, and obvious that the three of them had spent a lot of time together. I wondered again what happened to Jacob's mother—she had definitely been there in my memory of building a sandcastle with Jake as a kid. I remembered her, a tall, regal-looking woman with short black hair, and two slightly older girls laying out on the beach, chatting between themselves. They had been a family, and now… now it was Jake, Billy, and apparently my father.

Time passed easily. Besides a few trips in for beers and lemonades, we stayed out on the porch, absorbing the nice weather. As it got closer to the evening, the cloud cover was beginning to return, but it didn't seem like rain would threaten the bonfire. Charlie and Billy started impatiently looking towards the front door and I took that as a cue to stand.

"Hey, Jake, you wanna start heading out to First Beach? We can see if anyone needs help setting anything up."

Jacob jumped up. "Oh, shit, I was supposed to help the guys!" he groaned. "Okay, Bella, come on, see you later dad!" And then we were off—I barely had time to wave goodbye to Charlie. Even if I was more coordinated, Jacob was a lot taller than me, and his strides were two of mine.

"Jake, slow the fuck down!" I finally called from forty feet behind him as he started to duck into the woods. He glanced back and paused as I half-jogged to catch up.

"Sorry, Bells," he said sheepishly. "Kinda forgot you were back there."

I peered suspiciously into the forest. "Where are we going? I don't know if you've noticed this, but I'm not the most graceful person on the planet.

He gestured to the dirt path winding into the wood. "Shortcut down to the beach. Come on, it's an even path and it hasn't rained all day. It won't even be muddy." I narrowed my eyes at him, but he offered his arm, and it turned out he was plenty strong enough to support my weight the few times that I almost wiped out on the way down. We popped out of the woods suddenly, and I had to squint my eyes against the brightness coming from the direction of the ocean. The salt air, although noticeable in the whole area, was especially prominent here, and I smiled. Jake ran forward to help a couple guys drag something out of a pickup parked on the sand, so I took my time walking down the beach.

The breeze was starting to pick up a bit. I was glad Charlie had insisted I bring a sweater with me as I wandered in the direction of Jacob and who I presumed were "the guys" he'd mentioned back at the house. By the time I got over to where they were, they'd set up the old folding tables they'd lugged from the truck and were starting to unload coolers of hot dogs and s'mores ingredients.

Jake grinned when I approached and waved over the other two guys. "Bella, this is Quil and Emery. Guys, this is Charlie Swan's daughter that I was telling you about."

Quil, who was a good foot shorter than Jacob with short hair and a lopsided smile, waved happily. "We've heard a lot, Bella!"

"Oh really?" I asked nervously, my cheeks starting to heat up. I shot Jacob a look. "What kind of things?"

"Pretty much that you're the single clumsiest human to ever live," Emery said with a dry smile. Jacob held his hands up.

"I told no lies, Bells, you can't get mad about that."

I rolled my eyes, but accepted the hand to shake that Emery extended towards me. A moment later a green van pulled into the parking area and Jacob whooped.

"Beer's here," he said cheerily, bounding up to assist the new arrivals with Emery on his heels. Quil stayed behind, and we made pleasant chat about school and Jacob while I helped him set up the food.

An hour later, when what we could see of the sun through the hazy cloud cover was approaching the horizon over the ocean, a few dozen other kids had arrived and the fire was starting to pick up. Angela rode with Tyler, and after she'd helped Quil and I set up, we settled onto a picnic blanket she'd brought and chatted casually, occasionally entertaining visits from Jess or Mike Newton.

Jake plopped down onto the blanket with us with a hot dog shoved halfway into his mouth and two more clutched in his hands. He smiled widely and I shrieked, laughing and turning away.

"Jake! Gross! Chew your food!"

He swallowed then looked to Angela. "Hey."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, blushing. "Jake, this is Angela Weber. Angela, Jake. Our dads have known each other for about a century."

Jacob nodded solemnly. "That sounds about right."

The two seemed to get along well, though I couldn't imagine anyone not getting along with Angela. Soon we were joined by Quil, Embry, Jessica, and Mike, with Lauren and Tyler standing nearby and talking quietly. As the sunk sank, the lighting took on a flickering quality around everyone's face. The air was thick with the smell of burnt marshmallow, hot dog juices, and the gently rolling smoke billowing from the fire. My legs started to get stiff from sitting cross legged, so I stood carefully and stretched them out in front of me one by one.

I wandered closer to the flames to where Eric, some of the football team, and a couple other Quileute's were chatting near the food tables and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler. I glanced at some girls roasting marshmallows near the fire and, after thinking for only a moment, grabbed a marshmallow and one of the metal sticks from the table and headed toward the fire. There were logs sitting in a circle around the worn-out fire pit, and I perched on one, grinding my water bottle into the sand to keep it from tipping over and impaling the marshmallow on the stick.

Someone sat down next to me, and I looked over to see Mike Newton staring at me. His face was closer than I thought it would be and I jerked back reflexively.

"Oh. Uh, hey Mike. What's up?"

He nodded towards the fire. "Your marshmallow is on fire."

I yanked it back from the flames, blowing it out and desperately trying to avoid splattering molten sugar on myself. "Shit," I muttered dejectedly, looking at the blackened lump on the end of the roasting stick.

Mike gestured for the stick. When I handed it to him, he carefully lifted off the burnt part, which came off in one blackened piece, revealing a perfectly white but melting marshmallow underneath. He handed the stick back to me and tossed the burnt bit in the fire.

I mumbled a thanks while happily shoving the marshmallow in my mouth. Mike looked nervous, and I cocked my head at him before he hastily blurted out, "Do you wanna go out next weekend?"

I froze halfway through chewing, my eyes wide, and swallowed halfheartedly. Mike wasn't exactly subtle about the way he was hoping our relationship would go; I had thought that I hadn't been subtle in my cues that it wasn't going to happen, but apparently I should have been clearer.

But I had no fucking idea how to turn a guy down. Besides being oblivious, Mike was a nice guy, and I didn't want to hurt his feeling and tell him the truth—that I just wasn't attracted to him at all. Finally, I decided how to respond.

"Who else is coming?"

Mike's eyes widened a little. He obviously wasn't expecting that answer. "Oh. Uh, I was thinking it would be, you know… just the two of us?" He trailed off at the end and squinted a little, looking nervous.

I inhaled deeply and held my breath, trying to figure out how to approach this, my eyes darting around rapidly to see if there was anyone I could pull into this conversation to save me. "It's just… I'm still trying to get to know people here, you know? So, like, I think group things are the way to go." It was an absolutely horrible excuse—I flinched hearing the lie, knowing it was obvious but hoping that Mike's obliviousness extended to now.

He knit his eyebrows. "Bella, no. I'm asking you on a date. I want to go on a date with you next weekend."

Oh, God. No more pretending that I misunderstood. I had to face this, front on. Maybe I should just go. Maybe I should go, and try to be a horrible date so he wouldn't ask for a second… but I didn't exactly want it getting around that Bella Swan was a bad date, and Mike gossiped almost as much as Jessica.

"Is there a problem here, Bella?"

My whole body relaxed as relief flooded through me, settling the uncomfortable butterflies starting to go into hyperdrive in my stomach. Jacob was looking down at Mike Newton with a raised eyebrow. Mike looked terrified at the huge guy looming above him, and I realized for the first time that Jacob was probably pretty intimidating if you hadn't seen how goofy he could be.

Mike stood swiftly. "I was just, uh…" he trailed off, spun around, and practically ran back towards Tyler and Eric.

Jake chucked as he took the seat Mike had abandoned. "You didn't have to scare him like that," I chastised, trying to hide my smile in the shadows cast from the firelight.

"I didn't try to!" Jake laughed. "I can't help it that he's scared of me. It must be these big-ass muscles." He flexed and posed with his lips stuck out, and I snorted.

"You look ridiculous, dumbass."

He raised his eyebrow. "Need I remind you what happened the last time you were in La Push?"

I blushed immediately, my mind going right back to falling directly into a tidepool and having to change into a set of Jacob's shorts and a t-shirt, both of which I swam in. Instead of responding, I stuck my tongue out at him. He was about to say something back when someone stood nearby and cleared their throat.

This was, apparently, some kind of call, as the teens started to drift from their groups and settle in around the fire. "Who is that?" I asked Jake. The man was almost as big as Emmett Cullen, which was seriously impressive, and was wearing only a pair of shorts and a grey tank top despite the chill creeping into the seaside breezes.

"Sam Uley. He's kind of a weird guy."

"How so?"

"I mean…" Jake sighed. "He used to be super cool, but two years ago or so he kinda… changed. Broke up with his girl, after cheating on her with her cousin. Emily—that's the new girl—she has this huge scar on her face now, and no one in the tribe will tell us how she got it. But for some reason, last year Quil's grandpa told him to come down here and tell us all some of the old stories." He shrugged. "He's a really weird guy. I keep thinking he might be in a gang."

I glanced back at Sam and was about to ask Jacob about this girl, Emily's, injury, but Sam Uley began speaking.

As it turned out, this huge guy who may or may not have been in a gang was also a fantastic storyteller. There was hardly a whisper as we listened in awed reverence to his recounting of the origin of the tribe—the legend of the Spirit Warriors who would project their souls outside of their bodies; of Taha Aki, the last Spirit Chief, and how he lost his body to Utlapa, later becoming a half-wolf, half-man; eventually becoming a man who did not age, could turn into a wolf at will, and fathered many sons with his first two wives, all of whom learned at puberty that they shared the ability to transform into wolves. We listened with bated breath to the story of the Third Wife, and her sacrifice to save the Tribe from the Cold Ones. When Sam finished and sat down, there were only hushed whispers for a few moments before chatter started to pick back up.

"That was…" I finally breathed to Jacob.

"Sweet, right?" he grinned. "Maybe someday I'll be a wolf." He winked cheesily and I laughed, hitting his shoulder with my own. It was a few hours later—and after Mike and Eric and talked me into a cup of beer—that Jacob noticed I was yawning and insisted on escorting me back to his house.

"Here," he said, pulling something out of his pockets and handing them to me. I stared blankly at the small metal box. "I figured Charlie might notice the beer breath."

"Shit, you're right," I grumbled, fumbling with the little box. He snorted, took it from me, and handed me two, which I chewed slowly. He leaned down and sniffed.

"You're clear," he said, a playful sparkle in his eyes. I grinned.

"Thanks for that."

"No problem, Bells. Brought 'em for myself, anyway. I had three cups." He winked, then laughed when I tripped immediately upon trying to step forward. I glared at him—apparently three beers for him still meant graceful, while one for me only impaired my severely limited motor skills even further. We walked slowly back to the house, chatting the whole way, taking the paved street instead of the shortcut through the woods. I was asleep in the passenger's seat of Charlie's cruiser before we even pulled out of the reservation.

I ended up sleeping in on Sunday, not waking until just a couple hours before Charlie returned from fishing and then pushing off my homework until after dinner. This turned out to be a huge mistake—my brain was completely refusing to comprehend the material in front of me, and I finally gave up just after midnight with only half the problems completed, falling into bed and letting sleep overtake me immediately after a quick shower. I was still groggy when I woke up in the morning, but managed to wake myself most of the way up by the time I got to English.

Tyler and I were chatting about the trig problems before government started. He had the same class in another period, and I felt better knowing that he struggled as well. Mike joined us a minute later, and I cast my eyes down in frustration as he immediately started bickering with Tyler about something or other. I was trailing my gaze up the path between the desk aisles when I noticed a canvas bag sitting casually next to a desk that had, until now, been empty—the only desk in the class that had been empty ever since I started. Butterflies started in my stomach once again as I processed what exactly this information meant.

Edward Cullen was back in school.