A/N: A quick thank you to everyone who added this story in their alerts and/or added it to their favorite list. It truly means a lot to me.

Chapter 3- New friends, maybe?

Bella's POV-

"Why are you still here?"

"Excuse me?"

I harshly turned, almost giving myself a whiplash in the process, the slightly dumb- in my opinion- Quil Ateara standing in front of me, an expression of complete confusion evident on his face as he waited for me to respond.

"Why haven't you left yet?"

"I…I am sorry?" I gave him the benefit of doubt. He probably meant something else, his words coming out all wrong. That happens with the best of us at times; you want to say one thing but end up saying something a world apart, heavily unaware of your misfortune.

"You don't like it here."

It was not a question, but a fact.

"You are eighteen."

Again, a fact.

"There is nothing legally stopping you, so, why are you still here?"

I rolled my eyes in annoyance, a huff leaving my mouth as I looked away from him.

Was I really supposed to answer that question?

And from when did Quil assume that I was answerable to him?

I was not. Period.

"Look," he sighed, coming to sit on my bed, folding his legs beneath him. "I am just curious. I am not as dumb as I look. I prefer to mind my own business instead, but this is kind of stretching it. You have been here for three weeks now, and anyone can see that you would rather be anywhere else. Hence, the question."

I shut my eyes briefly, partly confused between shouting and kicking his nosy ass out of my room, or just giving in and answering the damn question. While the first option was heavily tempting, I knew what was the correct thing to do in the situation.

"Charlie has sold the house."

"WHAT?"

"Shh," I frowned at him, my voice a mere whisper. "No one is supposed to know."

Especially not Joy, who I knew was in the house at the moment.

He gulped in agreement, nodding his head a few times as he let the information sink in.

"Did you just say…that Chief Swan has sold your house?"

His voice was thankfully low, despite the disbelief that it held in buckets.

I rolled my eyes in sheer annoyance, already exhausted by this conversation. "Yeah, he needed the money or something, I don't know."

"Oh." A gulp and a nod. "How did you….When did you…." He trailed off, waving a hand in the air.

"I heard your mom talking to him a few weeks ago."

"SHE KNOWS?"

"Can you just, you know, quiet down?"

Where was the damn button to reduce his volume?

I really needed to use it!

He was just so loud!

"Sorry," he gave me a sheepish look. "It is kind of shocking."

"Tell me about it." I gave out a humorless laugh. For let's admit it, there was absolutely nothing funny in this entire situation. "But to answer your question, yes, she knows. But we are not supposed to know." I waved a hand between the two of us. "So, let's keep the volume down."

"That is…so wrong." He shook his head in utter frustration.

"I agree. We are not kids' anymore."

I could and should have been a part of this conversation.

It was an important one, indeed.

"I know." He hummed in agreement. "So, he has really sold your house?"

"Yeah." I frowned. "I don't know when he was planning on telling me this, and more importantly, where will we be staying when he returns after those six months, but for now, I don't have it in me to go around demanding answers for these questions. I just want to pretend like I never heard that conversation occur."

He sighed, nodding his head briefly. "I understand."

I shrugged it off, recognizing the fact that those two words were mostly said for the heck of it, the speaker not the least bit bothered by your troubles. Which was fine. Not that I needed the sympathy.

"No, seriously," he looked away from me, an unfamiliar maturity in his eyes. "I don't talk about my dad. I…can't. It hurts too much. Mom has tried to tell me only the good things about him, wanting me to remember him for those, but over the years, I have heard about the other side of the picture. Let's just say, he never wanted me or my mother in his life. He stayed with us, because he had to, something to do with my grandfather refusing to make him a Quileute elder if he left us, but he had other 'distractions' on the side. Even in his last moments, he was shouting at me for crying. That's it. That's the last memory I have of the man. I want to hate him, but he is my father. And I still miss him…."

"I am sorry."

He waved me off. "Anyhow, I often pretend like my dad was the perfect father figure out there; that he loved us and has been stolen away from us."

"I…."

What does one say to this?

I honestly could not think of one thing, apart from apologizing, that is, that could be said in respect to his confession.

"It's alright." He gave out a brief chuckle. "You don't need to say anything. Not like it will make any difference to my present circumstances."

I nodded my head in acceptance, slightly glad to be off the hook.

"Anyhow, so your dad sold your house….and you are stuck here?"

"Pretty much!" I shrugged, getting comfortable on the bed, a new acceptance now in my tone. Quil had so freely opened up to me, telling me something so very personal about his life; the least I could do in return was to answer his questions without any hesitation. "I know I am eighteen, and legally can move out. But let's see the facts here, I refuse to go and live with my mother."

He nodded his head in agreement, motioning for me to continue.

"I don't have any living relatives that I know of, and neither do I have any friends who will let me stay with them for an indefinite period of time. At best, I can ask Angela Webber, but she is too kind a person to say no, and that would then feel like taking advantage of her kindness. And my savings are pretty much non-existent. I don't want to live on the streets, owning or renting a house not affordable at the moment. Unless, of course, I want to quit school and take a full-time job, that is."

"Oh." He frowned.

"Yeah, oh." I rolled my eyes in response.

I had thought about this, had been thinking about it since days now. I may bitch and moan all I want, but where would I even go if I was kicked out of here?

Seattle was out of question. Charlie had not sent me any invite to come and live with him. My mom would be glad to have me back in her house, but I refused to let myself fall that low. I was happy with my freedom and did not wish to babysit two full grown adults for the next one year of my life. That left me with only two options, either, I could move out and try my best to stand on my own two feet- facing anything and everything that came in my path, or I could stay with Joy for these next six months, graduate High school and go to college like a normal teenager.

It wasn't a hard choice, let me tell you that.

I may be stubborn, but I wasn't a gone-case.

At least not yet.

"So…"

I shrugged at him. Not that I had anything else to add to this conversation.

"You want to go to the beach?"

"Umm…." I gave him an apprehensive look. We were not friends; one heart-to-heart shared did not make two people the best of friends, contrary to what he believed.

"Come on," he smiled. "The weather's nice today, and let's be honest, neither of us has any friends waiting for us out there."

Hey!

I would have taken offense to that statement, had it not been the absolute truth, that is.

Quil had only two friends in this world, neither of whom were talking to him at the moment.

And my situation when it came to the topic of friends….was laugh-worthy, and let's keep it at that.

"Fine." I hid the smile attempting to make itself known. "We can go to the beach, but your mom is not to see this sort of soft side of mine." I winked at him.

He shook his head in response, chuckling, "You love to rile her up, don't you?"

I waved him off, "What can I say? I like to find the fun in life."

He let out a chuckle, shaking his head in response, leading me out of the room and house.

We were not friends….at least not yet….but maybe….we could be friends…..

I don't know.