I had looked everywhere.

The parking lot, the halls, the library. I'd even stooped as low as eavesdropping in the boy's bathroom. Of course, I realized after Mike Newton collided into me that I'm totally closed off from the person I'm looking for anyway, and scurried off with my metaphorical tail between my legs.

It's not until lunch, I realize that Edward and his family have ditched. I tell myself I shouldn't be disappointed. I tell myself that whatever ridiculous admiration I have for him can be chalked up to him defending me against those street hooligans over the weekend.

Yeah right, I think to myself. He practically galloped in on a white stallion with his shining armor while I stood there stupidly like a damsel in distress. How pathetic.

"Bella! It's an emergency!"

"Calm down, Ang," I sigh as she comes from behind me and slams her backpack onto the floor. "I have one in my bag."

"Thank, God," she breathes and goes digging in my messenger bag for a tampon. "What are you pouting about anyway?"

"I'm not pouting."

"Aw, B!" Angela laughs as she sits in the seat next to me. "You miss your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend!" I move to kick her shin, but my foot gets caught in the strap of my bag. The movement knocks it sideways, spilling its contents all over the floor. "Cut it out before someone hears you."

Stifling her laughter, she bends over to help collect my things. "What's this?" She pulls out the book that I had completely forgotten was still in there. "Wicca in the New World," she reads aloud.

"I found it in that store we saw last weekend. I bought it so Shego would stop trying to sell me a palm reading," I explain as she sifts through the paperback pages.

Eyeing me over the pages, she asks, "Shego? Do you even know who that is?"

"I do now. She's a total fake, by the way."

"I'm so lost." She shakes her head and gives up trying to understand. "Anyway, have you changed your mind about practicing your abilities?"

I glare at her, silently telling her to lower her voice. "You already know how I feel about that."

"Look, I'm not pushing." Angela flips a few more pages in the book. "All I'm saying is this seems kind of interesting. The store may have been a sham but this seems like the real deal. It talks about chakras and energy. It even goes back as far as the legends of the Quileute tribe back before they lived on the reservation in La Push."

"What kind of book mentions chakras and Native American legends?" I say as I take the book back from her.

"The kind that's trying to cover all its bases. Speaking of, we should go to the beach today!" She grabs my chin and turns my head toward the wall of windows. "Look at that sun! We're gonna get tan!"

"Ang, it's barely sixty degrees out today," I remind her. "All you're going to get is pneumonia if you go."

"Please? We don't have to get in the water or anything. Ben knows how to make a great fire."

I roll my eyes while she bounces in her seat. "Fine."

"Yes! Thank you, Bella!" She kisses me on the cheek and I can't fight my smile any longer. "We're going to have so much fun!"

After school, Angela lends me her Abercrombie & Fitch pull-over while she zips up the oversized windbreaker that Ben had left in her backseat. It's an ugly red and gold (go Spartans!) that clash together in the middle. It's practically a dress on her but with all this wind from the shore, maybe it's a good thing.

"It's cold here," I say as we step out of her car. I cringe at the uncomfortable crunch under my feet. "I should have brought better shoes."

"You're not supposed to wear sneakers," she teases as she unties her laces. "Take them off! Leave them here. I have some towels in the trunk we can clean up with."

"I'm sorry, maybe you didn't hear me." Angela rolls her eyes as I lean over the roof of the Honda. "It's freezing out here."

"C'mon, B." She tosses her shoes onto the driver's seat. "Live a little."

After another moment's thought, I shrug and toe off my sneakers. "Fuck it. At least I'll have a story to tell my grandkids when they ask how I lost my pinky toe to frostbite."

"Attagirl."

I ignore Angela's laughter as she watches me hobble along the sandy gravel as we head further down the shore. She walks over the pointy rocks as if they don't exist. They're practically stabbing my foot with every step.

You look like a baby giraffe.

"Shut up!" I don't look at her. I'm still concentrating on the ground.

"I didn't say anything," she says, feigning innocence.

"Yeah, well you were thinking it. This is nothing like Phoenix." The tiny rocks fall behind us and I relax when I feel the cool, smooth sand under my feet instead. "This isn't so bad."

"See? It's kind of nice, right?"

"Yeah." I shiver as an ominously dark cloud passes over the sun. "I think we're losing light though. When is Ben coming?"

"He should be here soon," she tells me. "We should have a couple hours before it starts raining again. Let's gather some driftwood before he gets here."

I follow her down to where the sand is cold and damp. I'm tempted to whine about my desire to keep all ten toes when I find a piece of wood. "Is this stuff dry enough to burn?"

"I'm sure it's fine," she calls to me. She's standing closer to the water as she inspects her own piece of wood. When the tide washes up over her ankles she starts dancing. Then after she shrieks, I realize she's not trying to bust a move, she's trying to get out of the water.

"Aw, are you cold?" I'm giggling at her little performance, but she only responds by shoving the wood into my arms. "Careful! I don't want any splinters."

"Don't be such a baby."

I start making a pile of wood on the dryer part of the sand while Angela searches for more. We go at it a little longer before we see Ben's black Kia park next to Angela's little Honda.

"Hey girls!"

Angela waves to him from where she stands next to me. "Down here!" she calls out to him.

"How come he gets to wear shoes?" I ask her quietly after eyeing his rubber boots.

She arches a brow at me. Can you pretend you know how to have fun?

"I'm just saying."

Ben catches up to us, pulling Angela into his side and plants a kiss above her cheekbone. The action is small and simple but I can't shake the feeling that I'm intruding on an intimate moment. I look away, but it doesn't keep me from knowing the sweet nothings he's whispering in her ear and the blush that rises all the way to the top of Angela's frames.

"Oh, Bella! Hi!"

I hum in acknowledgment, feeling a bit irritated that I agreed to being a third wheel.

Cut it out, Bella.

Per Angela's request I turn to meet Ben's gaze and offer him a smile.

"It's nice to see you too," he says.

I do my best not to pay attention to Angela as she silently tells me to stop being so antisocial. "Thanks."

"Let's get this fire started." He rubs his hands together and inspects our pathetic-looking pile. "Have you ever seen a driftwood fire, Bella?"

Crossing my arms, I roll my eyes. "I do live here, you know."

Hurt flashes behind his eyes and I sigh, feeling a bit guilty for taking my frustrations out on him.

"I know that," he starts. "It's just that…" you're always at home. "Never mind."

"Sorry," I mutter before Angela murders me. "Guess I have a lot on my mind."

"No worries." Ben smiles at me and I can't help but feel grateful for his kindness. I don't deserve it. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I take a seat on the sand and Angela follows suit. "Not really."

"Don't mind her." Angela shoves me gently with her shoulder and I can feel she's not happy with my attitude but she's trying to be patient. "She's too busy pining after Edward Cullen."

Snapping up at her, I narrow my eyes. "Seriously?"

Ben surprises me by sitting next to me. I expected him to sit with his girlfriend. "Yeah, you and every other girl in this school. You should have invited him. Weren't you guys hanging out?"

I sigh and hide my embarrassment behind a curtain of my hair. "It's complicated." I wonder if I did invite him, would he even show up? Do I want him to show up?

"I think it's cute," she adds. "Bella's never had a crush before."

"Shut up!" I throw a handful of sand in her lap and grin when she frowns at me. "Yes, I have."

Ben starts digging a pit in the sand by our feet and I pretend not to hear Angela mentally licking the muscles of his bicep. Gross.

Fortunately for me, I don't have to listen to Angela's mind fuck for long. There's a pair of voices that are unfamiliar to me and my stomach turns, in fear of repeating the events of Friday night.

"Ang." I keep my voice low and she seems to detect the alarm in my tone. "Someone's coming."

"Who?" She looks around and I do as well, but don't see anyone around. "Wait, there. Do you recognize them?"

I follow her gaze to find two caramel-skinned boys heading in our direction. One is significantly taller than the other, with muscles that are apparent even through his jacket. The other stood a little lanky compared to him. Straight black hair, hanging down past his shoulders.

"Bella, is that you?" It's the shorter boy.

Angela raises her eyebrows and a smirk is pulling at the corner of her mouth. "Do you know them?"

Ben turns to look over his shoulder and waves his hand in greeting. "Hey, guys. Did Bella invite you?"

"No," I respond almost immediately. "I don't know them."

"Aw, c'mon, Bells." The shorter boy comes closer and something about the shape of his face and the arch of his nose has me cocking my head to the side. Where have I seen him before? "You don't remember me?"

"Jacob?" I stand up and chuckle when I finally get a better look at his face. "You're Billy's son."

"Finally." Jacob smiles a wide, toothy grin at me. "I knew it had been a while, but I didn't think it'd take you this long."

I shift uncomfortably on my feet and run a hand through my hair. "Sorry. Charlie doesn't let me out much."

The larger boy passes us to help Ben build his fire pit. He looks older and I wonder what he's doing here hanging out with a bunch of kids.

"Yeah, I heard. Um…" Crap, am I supposed to ask her about it? How do her seizures even work? Is there any warning? "Are you feeling—"

"Stop." I wave his words away before he gets a chance to finish. This is the last conversation I want to have with him right now. "I'm fine. Really."

Angela rises from her spot next to Ben and moves to stand next to me. "Hi, I'm Angela, by the way."

"Oh!" I roll my eyes at myself for being so inconsiderate. "Jake, these are my friends, Ang and Ben."

"Good to meet you. That's Sam, he lives on the reservation with me. He's nineteen."

"How did you and Bella meet?" she asks curiously.

Jacob wraps an arm around my shoulders and I try not to wince at his touch. I see images of his sister's wedding in Hawaii. Rebecca's her name. There are flashes of Billy in his wheelchair as he brings her down the aisle to her Somoan husband. "Our fathers are like, best friends."

As subtle as I can, I wiggle out of his hold and breathe when the connection is broken. "The last time I saw you, you were nine. How old are you now?"

"Fifteen. I'm a man now." He's beaming at us again and I join Angela when she starts giggling at him. "What? It's true."

I would ruffle up the hair at the top of his head if I weren't worried about the things I'd see when I touch him again. "Sure, Jake. Whatever you say."

With Sam and Jacob's help, Ben gets the fire going just as the sun begins to set.

"Check this out, Bella."

I turn when Ben calls my name and find that I'm genuinely surprised by the fire they've made. "It's blue!"

"Cool, right?" Ben sits next to Angela and she snuggles up into his chest. "It's the salt that does it."

The boys and I sit on the other side of the fire, in an attempt to give the spooning couple some space for themselves.

The older boy, Sam, claps his hands and then rubs them together like he's drawing a master plan. I do my best to hide my exasperation when I hear what he's thinking. "So. Anyone up for a scary story?"

"Not this one again." Jacob shakes his head. His thoughts tell me there's more to this scary story. Seems like it's more of a tribal legend. One he doesn't believe in.

"Me!" Angela chimes in. The sun is setting behind the ocean and the pink and orange skies reflect against her glasses. "I wanna hear!"

Ben nods his head toward Jacob. "What, you don't like scary stories?"

"Not when they're racist," he replies. Sam groans and shoves him playfully. "Shut up, you know I'm right."

"Okay," I speak finally. "I'm intrigued. Sam, do tell."

"It's a Quileute Legend of the Cold Ones. Or sometimes the Pale Faces," Sam starts. "Have you guys heard of them?"

"AKA, white people," Jacob interrupts.

"Would you stop it?" Sam shoves him again, but this time Jake fights back. Suddenly the two of them are wrestling, throwing sand into the fire and I flinch when it begins to crackle.

"Cut it out, before someone gets hurt!" I yell, but it's meaningless. Before I'm even finished, they're back to where they were sitting and they're both chuckling like they weren't brawling just a moment ago.

"This story is not about white people," Sam continues. "It's about the creatures who attacked our land."

"So…" Jacob cuts in again, "white people."

Angela laughs, the sound muffled by Ben's side. "Be quiet and let him tell the story already! We all know white people are historically shitty anyway. You're not offending us. Right, babe?"

Ben shrugs. "Well, I'm Asian. So, it doesn't really apply to me."

We're all chuckling again and Sam accepts it as an invitation to go on.

"Jacob's great grandfather was the chief of the tribe back then. Did you know that?" He directs the question to Jake who is clearly unfazed by the story. He's heard it all a million times before. "Our tribe descends from men who turn into wolves. Your people would probably call them werewolves."

"Werewolves?" I raise my eyebrows. "You guys really believe that?"

"Yeah," Jacob responds with a roll of his yes. "There's still a tribal law against killing them. Wolves, I mean. Not werewolves. There's no such thing."

Sam gives him a side-eyed glance but before I can look into what it means, he's already focused on finishing the rest of the story. "The wolves only had one natural enemy. The Cold Ones. They preyed on the townspeople. It's the wolves' duty to protect them and the land."

"But what are they?" Ben asks. "The Cold Ones."

Sam leans forward and the light of the fire, that's now turned into a slightly lavender color, shines under his chin. It casts shadows under his eyes and mouth. If this story weren't so corny, I might actually be intimidated. "Blood drinkers."

"Dun dun dun." Jacob throws his head back, laughing. Sam doesn't find his outburst very amusing but the rest of us smile at his antics. "Dude, you're worse than my dad. I can't believe you buy this crap."

Ignoring him, Sam carries on. "Ephraim Black, Jacob's great grandfather, ran into a pack of them that claimed to be different. They swore they didn't target any of the townspeople. They claimed to live off of the animals. At the time, there were more of them than there were of tribal leaders. So, the chief made a treaty. As long as they vowed not to cross over onto our land and abide by their...diet if you will, the wolves promised not to expose them."

"Wait." Ben holds out his hand and I can literally hear the wheels spinning inside his head. "So, you're saying this actually happened. Like in real life?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you people!" Jake raises and drops his arms dramatically. "It's just a story that has been taken way too damn seriously! They're delusional, of course there are no blood drinkers! Or werewolves for that matter."

"Well, there's always some truth to myths," Angela adds. "Maybe the creatures are a far fetch, but it's like Jacob said. The Native American tribes and land weren't exactly respected. We were always trying to take over. Maybe the Cold Ones were personified by white people."

Jacob visibly relaxes and smiles at her. "Thank you. At least someone here has their head on straight."

"Are you the only one who doesn't believe the stories?" I ask him.

He scratches the back of his head. "No. As much as Sam likes to tell it, he doesn't believe much either."

"There are other legends as well," Sam adds on. "Legends that date back to the flood. If you'd like to hear them."

A quick glance at the darkening sky and I shake my head. "Not tonight. I've got to get home before my dad freaks."

"Me too." Angela sits up straight, but only after kissing Ben chastely on the lips. "It's a school night. But thanks for hanging out with us!"

Jacob stands and offers me a hand up. "You should come more often. It's been too long."

Politely declining his help, I stand on my own. "Definitely. It was good seeing you again."

We push sand on top of the small pit to put out the fire. Once we're sure, the embers are snuffed out, I follow Angela and Ben back up to the cars. As I use a towel to get all the sand off of my legs, I wonder what Edward's opinion would be on the tribal legends. Would I see him again tomorrow? Would I have the chance to ask him?

"Are you thinking about Edward again?"

"What?" I glare at Angela from the passenger seat. "No, of course not."

She chuckles as she shoves her key into the ignition. "You're a terrible liar, B."

"I'm actually quite good at it," I remind her. "You just know me too well."

She shrugs. "You may be right about that."

When the engine starts, I turn the heater on as high as it goes and direct it to my feet. "My feet are frozen, thanks to you."

"Well, it's like you said." She shifts the gear from park to drive. "Now we've got a story for our grandchildren."

Angela gets me home just after seven and I see Charlie sitting on the couch through the window.

I hope she's alright, she hasn't called. She normally calls! Relax, Charlie, she's fine. Just wait.

I groan and lay my head on the headrest.

"What's wrong?"

Looking over at her, I nod my head toward the house. "He's worrying. I forgot to call him. He's probably going to lock me up forever."

"Give him a chance." She reaches over to unbuckle my seatbelt and unlocks the door for me. "He might surprise you."

Tugging on my shoes, I open the door and shoulder my bag. "I hope so. See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow," she repeats.

I begrudgingly climb the steps. I know that Charlie hears me and tense up. I'm ready for him to berate me when I step through the door, but instead, he just looks at me from where he sits on the couch.

"Hi, Bells! How was your day?" His mind is reeling. I'm waiting for him to ask me where I've been, who I was with and if I'm feeling well. He says none of those things.

"It was fine," I answer after a moment. "Sorry, I missed dinner."

"That's alright, sweetheart." Charlie rises from the couch and beckons me to follow him into the kitchen. "I got pizza delivered, so you wouldn't worry."

I look at him again, waiting for him to lose his cool, but he doesn't. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"You've cooked plenty," he insists. "I'm not completely incapable, you know." He grabs me a plate and I take it from him gratefully.

Eyeing his reaction, I grab a slice of the pizza. He's got his back turned as he reaches for his own plate. I grab another, and he sneaks a look over his shoulder. I go for another, and he snaps around.

"Alright, Bells. Don't test your luck."

Laughter bubbles up in my chest and comes out as a snort. "I couldn't resist. You should've seen your face."

We strike up an easy conversation as we eat. Him asking me about my night and me telling him about our time at the beach.

"I ran into Jacob Black. Do you still go fishing with his father, Billy?"

"I used to," he responds. "It's been a while since we've gone together. Jake's a good kid."

"You should go sometime." I look up at him and notice how his mustache twitches with a small smile he's trying to hide. "I know you miss it. Fishing, I mean."

I'm not sure I'm ready to leave her alone. "Maybe you're right." His answers continue to surprise me. He's going against every instinct that tells him he needs to watch over me. While I hate he has to think that way, I'm so relieved to know he's trying to give me the space I've asked for. "I'll give him a call this weekend. As long as you think you'll be alright for a few hours."

"I'll be fine," I assure him as I toss my crust on the plate. "I've got some homework I need to finish up. I'm going to head up to my room."

"Okay, honey." Charlie takes my plate and his and throws away the scraps.

"I'll get the dishes in the morning," I say on my way up the steps.

"Nonsense." He brushes me off. "You focus on your schoolwork, I can handle the cleanup."

"Thanks, Dad."

Two assignments and a bullshitted essay later, I find myself staring at my Calculus worksheet even more confused than when I started. I've read a sentence about fractals and self-replicating figures one too many times before I shove the sheet away from me and shoot a text to Angela.

Give me the answers to calc homework. Plz

When she doesn't respond right away, I send another

I'm drowning in numbers. Send help

I stretch out on the bed and catch my old copy of Wuthering Heights lying on the floor just as it had been for who knows how long. I remember I had started reading it again over the summer, but I had gotten distracted by something, and never picked up where I left off. I suppose I could start it again, for old time's sake.

Snagging, the beat up paperback from the floor, I start from the beginning.

I have just returned from a visit to my landlord - the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society.

I'm not sure exactly when Brontë's words melt away and become something from a dream, but I start to recognize the weightless feeling in my body. Almost like I'm floating in a pool of water.

When I look down, I find my copy of Wuthering Heights had fallen out of my hands and lies face first on the bed. I move to grab it, when I realize there's something different about it. Its once beat up spine is now glossy and stiff as if it hadn't been opened and closed a million times before. Also, the gray and blue color scheme has turned into a solid brown.

When I lift the book to where I can see it, I find it is not Wuthering Heights at all.

Wicca in the New World it reads.

I could have sworn I had left this in my bag. How did it end up here?

Opening the book to the page I'd left off from, I continue to read. It is starting to get interesting after all.

When I was pregnant with you, my senses were heightened. You have incredible intuition, Bella.

I flip the page, practically on the edge of my seat.

Our tribe descends from men who turn into wolves. Werewolves. Our land was cursed.

I don't remember Brontë's work being so fantastical.

We have only one natural enemy. The Pale Faces.

I turn the page.

There's always some truth to the myths.

My body feels as if it's been hollowed out and replaced with helium. I hear the springs of my bed creak as my body floats above the mattress. I'm flying. But where am I going?

I make sure to grip onto my book. No matter where I go, I'm determined to make more progress. I'm eager to read what happens next. The story sounds so familiar, but also like I'm reading it for the first time.

I see the ceiling getting closer, but I'm not afraid. I know I'll pass through and come out the other side.

When I feel the chilly night air on my skin, I breathe in. It smells like rain and soil.

Below me is a forest. I've never been here. It's beautiful. Everything's so green. Even in the dark, there is no hiding the beauty of nature. The one benefit to having so much rain, is the life it brings with it.

There are footsteps racing behind me. I don't need to turn my body to see. I know exactly who is here. Even in the shadows, I can pick out those golden eyes.

His bronze hair is slightly darkened by the rain and his clothes are sticking to his skin. Through the fabric, I can make the perfectly curved lines on his shoulders as they flex. He's rolling his head around in circles as if he is tense.

However, when his eyes open again, I realize he is not holding tension in. He is letting it go. His eyes darken to a sinful black that match the night sky. There is a rumbling sound that almost reminds me of thunder, except it's coming from deep within his chest. What is he looking at?

I follow his gaze just ahead to a small, four-legged animal with a crown of bone. His eyes are big and round and he has a snout that lifts slightly into the air as he smells the scent around him. Then he bends his elongated neck down and muzzles the wet grass.

Edward steps forward and I watch as his lips part. I see something glint in the moonlight. It looks like a row of sparkling white pearls. They're teeth, perfectly molded and squared. They are so white, I can almost see the moonlight sparkling off of them.

Within a blink, Edward has moved from his spot below me and tackles the deer dead ahead of him. I'm unable to react as I hear the poor animal whine. He's bucking his hooves at him, but it doesn't faze Edward. His grip on the animal is tight and strong enough to immobilize him.

He rears his head back and I watch in horror as he snaps forward and sinks his teeth into the neck.

Looking down at the book I still hold in my hand, I flip to the last page.

Blood drinker.