Forwarded To My Future

by Foenix2phorks

Complete. Bella is resigned to living a boring and unfulfilling life until she's old enough to graduate. But that was before fate stepped in. Looking up from her lunch tray, she sees four perfectly sculpted, pale faces - plus a bronze-haired, green eyed boy known for his gentility. He's not like the other boys in Forks. Can he help make her life a little more interesting? AU.

18. Leader Of The Pack

A/N- This is a monster chapter that I should have split into two parts but didn't. 14,705 words. Sorry. Please go eat something before you read. You might need the energy to get through it. I don't want you passing out.

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Chapter 18- Leader Of The Pack

March 5, 2005

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My eyes are closed when my subconscious senses a subtle change in my bedroom, luring me out of sleep. I reluctantly lift open one of my eyelids and am met with something that I haven't seen since I left Phoenix well over a month ago.

Sunlight.

I've been deprived of it for so long that I at first believe that it must be a trick. I do a stereotypical rubbing of my eyes to clear my vision, but I'm pleased to see that I am not hallucinating. The sun really is out this morning. The natural light filters through the lace curtains of the window, making the room brighter than ever before. Mind you, it isn't comparable to the hot, glorious sunshine that Arizona is famous for. The rays of light currently streaming in are much weaker, giving me a pretty good idea of what the sun's heat would feel like if I were living on one of Saturn's moons. But I'm definitely not complaining. This is still a lot nicer than the dishwater-gray clouds and fog that the Olympic Peninsula has been plaguing me with during the last few weeks.

I sit up in my bed and glance at the clock on my nightstand. I have a little over an hour's time to eat breakfast and get dressed before I'll be driving to Newton's Olympic Outfitters. Around two dozen of us are meeting there before we head to the beach in La Push.

Including Edward.

Ordinarily on Saturday mornings, I laze around and don't move a muscle until my stomach growls. But today is different. I can't wait to get out of bed. The fact that I'll be seeing him in an environment that doesn't involve school or homework puts a smile on my face.

I take a long, luxurious shower where I use up most of the hot water. Charlie is already gone for the day, so I have no worries about anyone complaining about my indulgence. Last night he informed me that he would be spending this morning on the banks of a stream, fishing for steelhead until either his bag is filled with them or the weather changes for the worst. The gleam in his eyes told me that only the threat of lightning will drive him away from his favorite pastime.

As I pour out a generous amount of shampoo and scrub my scalp, my mind drifts to the events of yesterday. School was much the same as it was on Thursday. Wherever I happened to look, I was met with the sight of students staring, whispering, or giggling in my direction. As always, I hated the attention and scrutiny, but it didn't feel quite as traumatizing as it had before. It's almost impossible to care about what hundreds of people may be saying when you have Edward to concentrate on. When I met up with him before school, the nosy crowds of people gawking at us was pushed from my thoughts.

Third period was tougher to get through. I found Jessica sitting in her desk and practically salivating at the chance to resume her inquisition. The first question out of her mouth was if Edward had kissed me since the last time we spoke - which was only fifteen hours earlier. The polite "no" I gave her appeared to trouble her more than necessary. Pulling out a notebook, she revealed techniques she had collected over the years which she swore would get any guy in the mood for a make out session. I kind of had the impression that she was showing me the same strategy notebook she had planned to use on Edward if he had only been more cooperative with her - especially since at the top of the page I spotted a doodle that read "J + E" set inside of a heart.

I tried to explain to her that while I appreciated her desire to help, I would prefer it if she would just let Edward and I go at our own pace. My plea went into one of her ears and flew straight out of the other without stopping to deliver the message to her brain. Right afterwards, she whipped out a teen magazine that claimed to have mapped out a guide to capturing the heart of just about any teenage boy. According to the magazine, the secret to seducing them is to quote crude Family Guy jokes in order to show them how relatable you are. I seriously doubt that would impress Edward.

Once I'm done with my morning shower, I dress in a lightweight blue sweater and a comfortable pair of jeans. I shove my wallet into my pocket and rush downstairs to start on breakfast, noting that I have exactly twenty-five minutes left before I'll be late.

After I've finished a bowl of cornflakes, I pluck my keys up from the table in the living room and throw open the front door. The morning's light bathes me in its wondrous warmth. A contented smile settles onto my face once I see what the outside world looks like today. Although the breeze is slightly chilly, the sun's heat has warmed the air enough to have boosted the energy levels of the local wildlife. It feels like spring has arrived. Two robins, a scarlet-red breasted male and a duller colored female, are chirping at each other from different branches of a nearby shrub. A squirrel is happily hopping around the front lawn, occasionally wiggling its bushy tail as it digs out a new sprout growing from the soil.

The normally drab appearance of the neighborhood has been splashed with color. The grass is a shamrock green that speaks of rejuvenation and life. The bark of the tree which stands in the yard is a cinnamon brown that looks wonderfully earthy and warm. And in between the drifting white clouds is the azure blue of the sky - a sight you can only truly appreciate once you've gone weeks without seeing it. Now I understand how the movie version of Dorothy Gale must have felt when she stepped out from her world of gray and into the land of Oz. When Forks tries, it really can look beautiful here. If it wasn't for the occasional cloud passing in front of the morning sun, you could almost say that the weather today is perfect.

But I'm no fool.

I pull my waterproof jacket off of the coat rack and slip it on. Perfect days in Forks are almost unheard of. It's best to always be prepared for rain and disappointment.

It's around five till ten o'clock when I pull into the sporting goods store parking lot. Several vehicles and a large crowd of people are already here. While I don't know everyone by name, I do recognize their faces. Most of the kids are in the same grade as me, though there are a few sophomores and seniors here, too. Almost everyone has gathered into small groups to talk, laugh, and roughhouse until it's time to go to La Push.

The one exception sits off by himself on the hood of his Volvo, dressed in a long-sleeved white polo shirt that I would have considered simple if I had seen it on a clothes hanger. But Edward seems to have a knack for taking ordinary clothes and making them appear more interesting to me. The top two buttons at his collar are left open, forming a V-neck which exposes a few inches of skin. The shirt is fitted to his frame, yet not tight enough that it looks like he's trying to show off. However, I'm still finding it difficult to maneuver through the lot without hitting anyone thanks to him sitting there looking like a teen heartthrob, complete with a tiny, lopsided smile on his face. He and I really need to have a serious discussion concerning the danger he poses when he distracts drivers.

I park the truck in the space next to his car, the two of us barely breaking eye contact the entire time. He slides off the hood of his car and meets me halfway at the tailgate. My eyes drink him in thirstily, feeling like I haven't seen him in weeks even though I just saw him yesterday afternoon. We've barely said hello when a loud voice calls for our attention.

"Hey!" yells Mike across the parking lot, waving his arms above his head. "Everyone who wants to go to La Push needs to get over here!"

Throngs of us converge around two vehicles - a beat-up minivan that has deep scratches running down its sides and a red SUV which appears to be only a few years old. Mike moves to the center of the crowd, standing with his arms akimbo, and looks around at each face before him.

"OK, everybody," he begins in a loud voice. "As you may know, Lee and I have volunteered to drive you today. What I want you to do is divide up into two groups." He holds up two fingers into the air like we're too simpleminded to understand what he just said. "One group's gonna go to First Beach in Lee's van. The other group will get to go with me in my Suburban." He smiles smugly, folding his arms across his chest as he scans the crowd. "Of course, it's up to you which vehicle you want to choose. Though, I'd like to point out that - as an extra treat - anyone who chooses to be in my group will not only have access to the sodas in the ice cooler, but will also have the opportunity to hear about how my great great grandpa Finn Newton once found false teeth inside of a salmon's stomach. You won't believe where you can see those teeth now. So... Pick your group!"

Jessica darts to Mike's side, gazing up at him in eager anticipation of being able to ride shotgun in the SUV with him. The other 99% of us line up in front of Lee's van. Apparently stories about antique dentures isn't quite the draw he was hoping for.

The van quickly fills to its maximum capacity, forcing the rest of us to accept a ride in the SUV. Edward and I shuffle along at the very end of the line, quietly chatting to pass the time. Once the girl in front of me squeezes into the seat in the middle row, Mike steps in my way and blocks my entry.

"Whoops. It looks like there's just one empty spot left," he announces, staring at Edward with frigid blue eyes. "I think that since I invited Bella to this in the first place, that she should get the last seat. Sorry, Edward, but I guess you're outta luck. You'll have to follow us in your own car if you still want to go." Although he has apologized, the smirk creeping up his lips tells me that he's anything but sorry.

I told Mike yesterday during English class that I had invited Edward to come with us. I could sense that he wasn't exactly happy by the news but he acted like it would be no problem. There will be plenty of room for everyone, he promised me. Now I see that it was a lie. A lie purposely said to punish Edward for having the audacity of wanting to take part in a group trip.

I glance over my shoulder to gauge Edward's reaction. If Mike's attempt to alienate him from the group is affecting him, he hides it very well. His face is devoid of expression. Gone is the boyish smile he had only moments before.

Mike once claimed that Edward was weird for wanting to keep to himself, and for that reason, he shouldn't be trusted. Yet, when Edward does put more of an effort into being sociable, Mike's always there to make him as uncomfortable as possible. When Mike wants to chitchat at the lunch table, he includes everyone except Edward. When Mike puts together an event, he invites everyone except Edward. Be it because of hatred or jealousy, he tries to push Edward away from everything he can.

Even me.

But he should understand by now that every time he attempts to push Edward away, I move one step closer to the boy with haunting green eyes.

I turn back around, straightening my posture and looking at Mike directly. "I think I'll ride with Edward. It looks a little too claustrophobic for me in your SUV anyway."

Mike loses the smirk and stares at me with a look that hints at his disbelief. That expression further intensifies when I glance behind me and add, "You don't mind, do you, Edward?"

When Edward's eyes meet mine, I'm pleased to see that they have lost some of their strain. "Not at all."

Mike's face burns a lobster red and he immediately storms away. He yanks open the door to his SUV and climbs inside, not giving Edward or me another glance. At the same time, Lee's minivan cranks up and puffs of black smoke cough out from the tailpipe. Edward utters a subdued "let's go" and the two of us hurry across the parking lot to his car.

By the time we're inside of the Volvo, the SUV and minivan are already gone, leaving us to fend for ourselves. But Edward must have been an Indie 500 racecar driver in a former life. The speedometer hits 73 mph as he flies past the few vehicles traveling along the road to the reservation. My eyes bulge from my head. It's been a long time since I've been in a vehicle going above the speed limit. I'm used to trucks that can barely beat a tricycle in a street race.

Before I know it, we're right behind Lee's van. He then reduces his speed to a more appropriate one, and I finally feel that it's safe enough for me to stop digging my fingernails into the passenger seat.

Now that we've joined the convoy, my thoughts return to the injustice that was done to him. Why does Mike only target Edward? How can Mike be so cruel to one person while being friendly with everyone else? And why doesn't anyone let Mike know that his bullying isn't OK?

"I'm sorry," I say once we're well outside of town.

Edward glances away from the road for a moment and makes eye contact. "Don't worry about it," he replies, his voice as soothing as warmed honey.

"I don't understand why he likes to single you out so much."

His mouth cocks up to the side and he snorts as though what I said is funny. "I don't know why. I doubt he knows why either. He's behaved this way ever since I first met him. I should be used to his bluster by now, don't you think?"

My shoulders slump and I gaze back at him with a new frown. "You might be used to it, but it doesn't make it fair."

His smile gradually slides away and he goes back to staring straight ahead. "Fairness and my life haven't quite seen eye to eye," he explains in a somber tone. "Mike is just another test of my moral fortitude which makes up my existence."

My teeth draw my bottom lip into my mouth and I watch him for a while. Long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel turn pale from the force they are inflicting upon the unfortunate object. They are the only indication that I can discern that what just happened bothers him.

The realization that Mike has been like this from the very beginning makes me even more upset and confused. What was Edward's crime back then? That he happened to live with a local wealthy family? That he was not only smart but kind as well? That he had the smile of a GQ cover model? What could possibly make Mike hate him to such an extent?

When I moved here, Mike didn't persecute me just because I am the child of the chief of police. Heck, Mike was like the school welcoming committee that first week. He offered to show me around town so that I wouldn't get lost. He told me where you can find the best deal on gasoline. He warned me to never buy food from the convenience store on Water Mill Road because they sell live bait right next to their warming trays. That last bit of advice is something I'll be forever grateful to have been informed of.

"He seemed so nice when I first met him," I say with slightly furrowed brows.

Edward looks over at me with a growing grin. It lights up his eyes and makes my heart beat a little faster. "I'm sure that he was the epitome of hospitality to you. You seem to bring that out of most of the male population of Forks," he replies with a teasing quality to his voice.

My head flops to the side and I stare back at him with slightly squinting eyes. I've never been the type of girl that has legions of boys flocking to her. I'm just me. A plain, ordinary girl with simple tastes.

"You are supposed to be driving, Edward, not exaggerating," I deadpan.

He chuckles a deep, rich laugh and tries to keep an eye on me as he continues driving. "I never exaggerate. Do you think that it's normal behavior for Tyler and Eric to fight over the right to just ask you to a school dance? They weren't asking you out of the kindness of their hearts, Bella. I can guarantee you that it was more like extreme eagerness."

I bark out a scoffing laugh and roll my eyes at the memory. I seriously doubt that those two boys had any strong feelings for me. They simply viewed me as something to fight over. I was the new trophy the winner could show off at a dumb school dance. It was like a game to them. If some other girl were to have suddenly moved to Forks last week, I'm sure they would have made themselves look like jackasses in front of her instead of me the other day.

"I'm just the new face. They'll get bored eventually," I explain.

One of Edward's eyebrows arches at me for a moment before he slowly shakes his head back and forth. "You underestimate yourself, Miss Swan," he breathes out softly.

Arriving at First Beach, we step out into the sunlight and I take a glimpse at the surroundings. I haven't been here in what seems like ages but I can see that it's just as beautiful as ever. Smooth pebbles in various shades of black, gray, pink, and white line the beach. Waves crash onto the shore, producing an oddly calming roar. Sea birds hover high above our heads, reminding me of kites floating in the sky. I take a deep breath and inhale the unmistakable scent of the sea. It's not for everyone but I've always enjoyed it.

Looking behind me in search of Edward, I find that his full lips have parted open somewhat. His widening eyes keep shifting from spot to spot as they take everything in. I smile at the sense of wonder exuding from him. I know he mentioned that he's never been here before, but based upon his expression right now, I have a feeling that this may be his first time ever seeing a beach. After all, he is from Chicago. That's pretty far away from any ocean.

It takes him a full minute to notice that I have been watching him. His forehead scrunches together in a questioning kind of way as he stares back.

"First time at the beach, huh?" I ask, still smiling as a gust of wind whips my hair around.

His brows rise up, appearing faintly surprised. "Was it that easy for you to tell?"

"No. More like it was guesswork. I thought by the way you were looking around awestruck at everything and since you're from the Midwest, that maybe you've never seen the ocean before."

He doesn't confirm or deny what I say. But, I do catch one corner of his mouth lifting up a tiny bit.

While people are still attempting to shimmy out of the cramped SUV and minivan, Edward and I move to join a small but growing group of our classmates. Ben Cheney's head whips around when he hears our feet crunching against the gravel. Once he recognizes Edward, he gives a legitimate smile. The two of them politely greet one another, and during their ensuing conversation, Ben casually mentions that he and Eric have been drafted to gather wood for the huge bonfire Mike wants to build. Edward immediately volunteers to help. I try not to smile but I can't help it. It warms my heart a little to see that not everyone treats Edward like a second class citizen.

Soon, the entire group strolls down to the beach and settles down in an area that has huge driftwood logs circling the remains of an old fire. Tyler and a couple of his friends hop over them like frogs, laughing hysterically when one of them miscalculates their jump and falls on his butt. While most of the remaining boys stay upright, a majority of the girls take a seat. I follow their lead and find one that's unoccupied. My fingers rub against the wood, the material as white and smooth as a bone left out in the desert sun.

Edward leaves my side for a few minutes as he helps to collect armloads of driftwood. I occupy myself by watching everyone around me. Angela waves at me from across the log circle, pausing in her conversation with a senior girl that I've never spoken to before. Nearby a small group of boys form an impromptu football game. Soon, their playful banter and laughter can be heard as they run around with the ball.

Due to the sea breeze which occasionally sends out strong gusts, I notice that Jessica has suffered a hair emergency. It's practically standing straight up in the air, giving it the illusion that she just stuck her finger into a light socket. One of the boys laughs and asks if her name is Marge Simpson now. In full panic mode, she flees back to the SUV to borrow Christina's can of hairspray in hopes of taming her wild, curly locks.

I unfortunately spot Lauren standing nearby too. Although she's dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a sweater today instead of her usual wardrobe of crop tops and skirts which barely pass the school's dress code, I take note that she couldn't bear to wear appropriate shoes. It can't be comfortable wobbling around on toothpick heels on a rocky beach.

Every few seconds, she pauses the conversation she is having with her friends for the sole purpose of shooting withering glares and eye rolls in my direction. I see her scowling so often that I'm shocked that she doesn't have wrinkles. If she doesn't watch out she's going to wake up to find that her face resembles a Shar Pei before she even hits twenty-five.

Once a large pile of wood has been stacked, Mike breaks off from a conversation he is having with Lee and begins the task of starting a fire. The spot I chose to sit is only a few feet away from where he currently squats. You couldn't miss me even if you tried. Yet, somehow, Mike manages to block me out. He keeps his concentration devoted entirely to constructing the pieces of wood into a pyramid shape.

Having him completely ignore me like this is unheard of. Ever since we first met, Mike has always reached out to me in some way. He has almost always given a friendly hello along with regaling me with a long-winded story. Even the couple of times when he was angry, he would still acknowledge me in some way. But right now it's as if I no longer exist to him.

Minutes later, the wood is fully ignited, producing strangely beautiful flames of blue and lavender. Mike quietly monitors the fire with crossed arms, his brow hung low. Every so often he tosses in another log and the flames progressively grow higher, producing more heat. Once the fire reaches a few feet into the air, he rises from his crouched position and walks away to join a group of girls sitting on the opposite side of the bonfire.

A pair of long, lean legs suddenly stretch out from the spot next to me. Without needing to look, I know that it's Edward there. I can feel his eyes on me just as sure as if he had reached out to touch the skin of my face. I have confirmation of it when I turn my head a few degrees and find him watching and waiting for me to speak.

"I guess I just lost a friend," I announce in a quiet voice.

His mouth twists and he silently regards me for a few beats of time. "He's just being sullen. I'm sure by Monday all will be forgiven," he reassures me.

Then, a slow, devilish smile appears and he leans in closer. I involuntarily shut my eyes, trying to slow down my quickening pulse. His warm breath tickles my ear as he whispers, "Anyway, his brain can only keep up with one outrage at a time. I'm sure when I anger him again for some inexplicable reason today, that he'll forget that he was ever upset with you."

He backs away and I look up to find his eyes dancing. If truth be told, I want to laugh. Very badly. But I am chewing my lips to keep that from happening because I don't think it would be appropriate. Although I don't approve of Mike's behavior today, I don't want to take part in bashing him either. I don't believe bullying a bully is the right way to deal with a problem.

"Don't be mean, Edward," I order, trying to sound stern. But judging from the smile that has yet to leave his face, I don't think he's buying it.

"Hey guys!" trills a high-pitched voice as Jessica flops down next to me. Her eyes sweep over Edward and then me as thoroughly as any camera, probably searching for signs of hickeys and unbuttoned clothing that she can speculate over.

I can almost hear the exhaustion in Edward's voice when he greets her. As she starts yapping, he grows quiet. His mind and eyes begin to wander, appearing to effectively tune her out. He's never been very keen on listening to her gossip. So, instead of taking part in the conversation, he watches the antics of our classmates.

A couple of minutes into her telling me about a freshman boy who is supposedly an undercover federal agent searching for hidden drug cartels operating within Forks High, she abruptly switches topics.

"So," she begins in a whisper. "Anything new on your end to report?" The way she's excitedly wagging her eyebrows leads me to believe she wants an update on Operation: Get Edward To Kiss Bella.

"Nope," I answer simply.

Her mouth turns down into a frown and a look of disgust crosses her face. "Ugh! Bel-lah!" she quietly hisses. "What's taking you so long?"

I take a quick peek to see what Edward is up to. He's currently observing Ben and Angela as they chat twenty feet away. He doesn't look to be listening in to our conversation.

"It's only been two days," I point out to her.

She expells a frustrated sigh. "I know! And that can be a long time when it comes to high school relationships. You've seen Brian Kowalski around school before, right? Well, last year he was the new guy. At first I totally hated his guts. He came off as a smartass, know-it-all and I couldn't take being around him for very long. I changed my mind about him when my car wouldn't start one day. He walked up to me and asked if I needed any help. He fiddled around with those spark plug thingies under the hood and it cranked right up. We got to talking after that and I discovered how nice he was.

"We started dating soon after. I really thought I had met a great guy. He was so attentive to my needs. He brought me daisies when I was feeling low. He walked with me to my classes. He always acted like all he ever wanted was to make me happy, ya know? So you can imagine my shock when I found a note stuck in my locker from him. It said that he didn't love me anymore and explained that he had been coasting through the relationship, hoping that I would break it off first so that he wouldn't have to hurt my feelings."

Jessica squirms in place and presses her lips together for a few moments. "He was such a coward. Couldn't even tell me to my face that he wanted out. Then, to top that off, he started dating a girl from Port Angeles only a day later. Can you believe that? And would you like to know how long it took for us to get to that point - from the start of the relationship all the way to the break up, Bella? Six days," she emphasizes. She dips her head down and stares at me solemnly. "So, do you see now? If you don't do something about Edward soon, you may miss out on everything. Chances are that he'll move on to someone else before you can blink an eye. Just like what happened to me."

I nod my head like I get what she's saying, but I have no intention to change course. Throwing myself at Edward just because Jessica had bad luck with a past boyfriend doesn't seem to be a smart move. Thankfully, she doesn't linger on the topic any longer and switches to other matters to gossip over.

She's halfway into telling me something she overheard yesterday during her History class when she becomes distracted. Mike has drifted closer to this side of the fire again and she has noticed. Unaware of the incident that took place earlier between us, Jessica shrieks his name and flags him over. He steps over a log and takes a seat next to her, warmly greeting her while ignoring me.

It doesn't take long before I feel like the outsider. Whenever Mike gets close to her, Jessica's attention span narrows significantly. She tends to forget about others around her as she flirts and giggles at his stories. I guess placating his ego would take up a lot of your attention.

"Bella?" murmurs Edward on my other side.

I turn to find his eyes glued to where a few girls are gathered across the log circle from us. "I was wondering. Is Angela attending that dance next weekend?" he questions with a lilt to his tone.

My mouth purses as I try to think. I do remember Angela saying a few days ago that she hadn't asked anyone yet. Also, Jessica has made it her life's duty to keep up with who's going with who to that spring dance. I haven't heard her mention anything about Angela going.

Just as I'm about to answer his question, I grasp the significance of what he's asking. A boy wondering if a girl is going to a dance usually indicates some sort of interest on his part. I also realize that it was Angela that he was watching a minute ago. In fact, he's still staring at her. She's currently smiling and chatting to a red-haired girl that she's sitting next to.

The story Jessica shared a few minutes ago creeps back to haunt me. Teenagers can be fickle with their affections. One moment they're playfully teasing you and pulling you in for a kiss. The next they're bored and they find someone else to fawn over. I've seen it happen plenty of times to poor guys and girls in Phoenix. I just never expected for Edward to do it to me.

"I don't think she is," I reply, sucking in my bottom lip. I'm attempting to sound unaffected by his sudden disinterest in me when I add, "She's a very nice person. I like her a lot."

For a few seconds, Edward's brows come together and he silently blinks back. Gradually, the confused expression clears. He leans down to gaze into my eyes - not allowing me to look away. "I'm not asking for me, Bella. I already made plans with a certain girl that day, and only a cataclysmic event could ever hope to keep me from being by her side."

"Oh," I breathe out. Relief rushes through me. It's also nice to know that he hasn't forgotten about our trip to Seattle next weekend. But one question remains unanswered. "Then who are you asking for?" I ask, putting emphasis on the last word.

His lips form into a slight smile and he laughs just once. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you yet. If luck is on my side, you'll see soon enough."

When he notices my pouting expression, he doesn't hold back his amused chuckles. Although I hate being kept out of the loop, seeing how his face glows when he laughs makes my irritation a bit more bearable.

Not long afterwards, Mike tromps over to a vacant log and climbs on top. He tries whistling though nothing but air is being blown out. Soon he's reduced to shouting in order to catch our attention.

"Since we still have a while to go until lunch, I've decided that there's plenty of time to go check out the tide pools," he loudly proclaims while struggling to keep his balance on the large piece of driftwood. "Anybody that wants to go should follow me."

"Like, how far away is it?" asks a brunette wearing a sleek, turquoise headband. I recognize her as being one of Lauren's friends.

"Almost a quarter of a mile. Most of the walk is down a dirt hiking trail. It should be dry since it hasn't rained today."

The girl's nose crinkles and she shakes her head. "Count me out then. I don't want to ruin my shoes." As she announces this, she points down to the silver colored heels attached to her feet. Wearing pretty shoes that keep you from doing anything fun or useful while on a beach trip must be one of the requirements of joining Lauren's gang of groupies.

While people are dividing up into who wants to go and who wants to stay, Edward leaves the decision entirely up to me. I take several moments to think it over. I'm not a fan of hiking. And walking a quarter of a mile doesn't sound easy to me either. Sitting here by the toasty fire sure does sound nice. However, once I find Lauren's "bitch face" directed at me for the thirtieth time today, it isn't difficult for me to decide that hiking is the lesser of two evils. Besides, seeing the tide pools again should be fun.

Edward and I stick to the very end of the hiking group since Mike is leading. We can still hear him, though. I try to concentrate on staying upright and not tripping over anything instead of listening to his trail tips and tricks.

I'm doing OK until the trail enters a wooded area. That's when problems arise. Although the sun still peeks out from behind the clouds, there isn't enough light to brighten the path very much. I keep finding rocks and roots to trip over that everyone else seems to have no trouble avoiding. Branches from shrubs and bushes come out of nowhere and slap into my face. Pinecones and last autumn's acorns are strewn across the forest floor, and my feet seem determined to find each and every one. I'm slipping and sliding all around like I'm wearing socks on a newly waxed floor.

Did I mention that I hate hiking?

While our classmates pull way ahead, I'm forced to walk at a snail's pace. To his credit, Edward stays close and steps in to save me whenever it appears that I'm about to go down. However, when he suggests toting me bridal style down the rest of the path, his earlier chivalry doesn't save him when I shoot a glare. Cracking jokes at my expense during times like this tends to tick me off.

During one particularly nasty near fall, I flail around to try to keep from face planting. Edward's arm appears right then and I latch onto it. I thank him for the help but I'm admittedly distracted a little bit. I can feel that his muscles are flexed underneath his long-sleeves and my hand doesn't want to detach from his hardened bicep. A part of me wants to shove up the sleeve so I can check it out, though the sane part of me decides that doing something like that would be a little invasive. So I limit myself to holding on to his arm as we slowly shuffle down the dark path. This helps me maintain my balance while also slightly satisfying my fantasies. Sometimes being balance-challenged isn't so bad.

When we finally exit the forested path, I take a look around and decide that the hell we just went through was worth it. Before us is a picturesque curving river where it joins the ocean. During times when the tide is in, the area where our classmates are currently standing and crouching is under water. When the tide is out, sea creatures are left stranded in small pockets of water. There they will remain until the evening tide rolls in and gives them the option of rescue.

We at first intend to join the group and check out the pools that are close by. That plan changes once we overhear a certain, familiar voice bragging to a boy about his expert level fishing prowess. I witness Edward's shoulders slump. He then encourages me to walk a little further so that we can investigate the pools that are too far away for Mike's droning voice to reach. That sounds like a good idea to me. I've endured most of Mike's fishing tales before and I think that I deserve a break.

Soon we're standing in front of a fairly large pool. One of my fists remain firmly clasped onto Edward's arm for both pleasure and safety purposes. Peering in, I see that the seawater is almost crystal clear. Fish ranging from the size of my pinkie nail all the way up to several inches swim around. One fish in particular grabs my attention. Its scales catch and reflect back the sunlight like little mirrors. I am slightly disappointed when the unusual fish darts away, seemingly disappearing into a darker area of the pool.

I crane my neck over the water, scanning for the little creature. Yet before I get the opportunity to begin the search, I feel myself losing my balance. A gasp squeezes past my lips when I am flung forward. In vain I try to tighten my grip on Edward's arm but I can tell that it won't be enough to stop me from falling. As his shirt sleeve slips through my fingers, I try to prepare myself for the sting of the ice cold water that awaits.

The next moment something locks around my midriff and I seemingly freeze in place - no longer falling. The sudden pressure there causes a gush of air to expel from my lungs and I am pulled back into a standing position. With a heart racing, I discover Edward's face near my own, his eyes spread wide in alarm. I glance down to find that it is his other arm that is wrapped around my middle. My breath catches in my throat - half from the shock of what almost happened to me, the other half because it feels oddly intimate standing like this with him when over a dozen people are close by.

Without looking away, he cautiously pulls me along with him as he lowers us down to the pebbled ground. I willingly follow, still somewhat disoriented by what occurred to argue. Once we've safely made it into sitting positions next to the tidal pool, he loosens his hold on me and leans back on his hands. His chest heaves while he stares back.

"Please... Please don't fall into the ocean today. I'm not dressed for an aquatic rescue," he pants with a tinge of exhaustion.

My eyes briefly clamp shut and I attempt to slow my breathing. "I'll see what I can do," I fire back in a whisper.

Once our nerves are calm again, we remain sitting and return to examining the tidal pool. I stare at the creatures in awe, wondering what life must be like for them. Is it better to be stuck in a tiny pool with less of a chance for a predator to harass you, or is the freedom of the ocean preferable despite its numerous dangers?

A few minutes into my study of the sea animals, I'm distracted when I feel Edward's leg bump into me. I turn and spot him pulling his cellphone out from his pants' pocket. Then he quickly dials a number and presses the phone to his ear.

"Hello," he begins, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. "Yes, everything's fine, Esme... She's fine as well... No, I haven't seen them... Well, I am too... I promised, did I not? Would I ever lie to you?" He chuckles and carelessly drags his fingers through his hair. Pausing for a brief time, he then says, "All right. I will. Goodbye."

Flipping the phone closed, Edward slides it back into his pocket. There's still a trace of the smile left when he glances up at me. That phone call I just heard makes it clear that Esme has become a mother figure to him. The day he drove me to his house it was easy to see how much she cares for her family. She's like the twenty-first century's version of a new and improved June Cleaver. She is a perfect wife to a successful doctor. She is a perfect mother to a house filled with unusually beautiful and intelligent teenagers. She is a perfect interior designer that could probably go into business decorating the apartments and houses of the well-to-do in Seattle. Esme makes most of humankind look like slackers.

"She cares a lot about you," I tell him, even though I'm sure that he's already aware of the fact.

He moves one knee until it's pointed towards the sky and props an arm across its top. "I know. I care about her, too. All of them."

You'd never guess by looking at him that his life was once turned upside down. Losing your parents and being required to move halfway across the country to start over has to be a nightmare. I'm sure being given a very supportive family to lean on during the aftermath had to have been a blessing. But, I've often wondered if given the choice back then, would he have stayed in his hometown instead of relocating to Forks? Does he still sometimes wish that he had stayed?

"Do you miss Chicago?" I blurt out before I can chicken out.

Seemingly without needing to mull it over, he shakes his head. "No. The way it is now - there's nothing in Chicago that I care about anymore." His eyes settle on the tide pool, pausing there for a few seconds. Without warning, they flick back to my face. "What about you? Do you miss Phoenix?"

I breathe in a healthy dose of air and then exhale slowly. Not long ago, all I could think about was escaping Forks and returning to Arizona. I felt so out of place here. Fast forward a few weeks and now I've come to accept that moving was the best decision I have ever made.

"I used to," I emphasize, tucking my hair behind my ear. "I don't miss it now like I first did. I miss my mom, of course. But, no, I don't miss Phoenix."

Looking back on my life, Mom was really all that tied me there. Sure, Phoenix is wonderful. It has fantastic weather. Beautiful scenery. It's a metropolis built in a desert paradise. But, truthfully, I would have probably formed an attachment to any place Mom had moved us to - be it Topeka or Sacramento or Atlanta. It wasn't the place that made it home. It was her.

I shift my attention back to the tide pool, admiring the sight below me. It is very much like looking into an aquarium. Sea Stars of magenta, tangerine, and mauve slowly crawl and bump into one another, one of which climbs over a rock in its quest to make it to the opposite side of the pool. A fish the size of my hand swims around languidly while the spikes poking out of its back wiggle from its movements. A sea anemone resembling a rare, tropical flower sways at the bottom, its frilly white tentacles snatching food particles from the water.

The only place besides La Push that I have ever seen animals this colorful and fascinating was at an aquarium in California. It's a trip that I haven't thought of in years, yet it remains in my memories as an important, eye-opening experience. Although I was a small child at the time, that particular day taught me that my mom wasn't quite like most of the other adults around me. I became the person she depended on from that day forward, warning her whenever she was on the verge of doing something unwise - like leaving the house with the iron on, or investing her hard earned money in a moose milk farm in Russia. It was a role I served in for more than ten years before Phil came along.

I find myself suddenly speaking aloud, wanting to share this tiny part of my life with Edward. "When I was six, my mother and I traveled to Monterrey to visit my grandmother. It was my first real experience with the ocean," I explain while still watching the fish and invertebrates below. "Mom promised to take me to the aquarium there so I could see what real, live sea creatures looked like. It was even better than what she had promised me. I had never seen so many beautiful, colorful fish. And, we both fell in love with the sea otter display. I didn't want to leave. They looked so sweet and playful."

When I smile, I notice that Edward's lips do the same. His positive response encourages me to continue on with my story. "I don't know how long I stood there watching them, but eventually I realized that my mom wasn't around. I knew that she wouldn't have gone far without me, so I began searching for her. It only took a couple of minutes. And, thankfully so, because she was holding the hand of a child she obviously thought was me. He was blonde and at least a half a foot shorter." My face turns up into a sly grin, picturing the astonished look on Mom's face that day when she discovered her mistake. "But, in her defense, we were both wearing similar jackets."

Edward's soft chuckles bounces off the rocks, sounding like the strumming of a tuned acoustic guitar. "I look forward to meeting her one day. She sounds like a very special lady."

"She is," I confirm without first grasping the enormity of what he said. Though, as it sinks in, I'm slightly startled to realize that he is insinuating that he will meet her one day. As in, he thinks he'll still be hanging around me long enough for that to happen. And even more surprising, he looks forward to it. That's great news to hear because he may get a visit from her whether he likes it or not.

Ever since Mom heard about him coming over nearly every afternoon, she's been flooding my inbox with emails. She's been begging for updates almost daily. I've been putting her off by telling her that I haven't had the time to sit down and type up a long explanation, but I know she will eventually put her foot down and demand answers. Additionally, she writes that if I don't send her a picture of him soon, she will be jumping on a plane and showing up on Charlie's doorstep one afternoon when Edward and I are at home studying.

"She wants to meet you, too," I admit nervously, my voice barely audible.

His posture perks up and his dark bronze eyebrows slightly raise. "You mentioned me to her before?"

Oh, boy. If he only knew...

"Yes. You don't mind, do you?"

The faintly surprised expression on his face vanishes. "Of course not. I'm glad that you did," he emphasizes. A soft, crooked smile appears and he leans closer. "My family likes you, you know."

Those perfect people that make Mary Poppins look like a failure actually like me? How is that even possible? All Esme and Carlisle have seen of me was that day I borrowed those books. I was a nervous, trembling wreck the entire time. Then, when Edward began playing the piano, I lost the ability to speak and blink. I made an idiot of myself in front of his adopted parents and siblings. How could they like someone that did that?

"They do?" I question, scrunching my forehead.

His face illuminates into a grin that's brighter than the wanly shining sun. "How could they not? Everyday after I come home, Esme interrogates me about what you like and what you dislike. I think she's planning on dragging you and your father to our house for dinner sometime soon, too. So, be prepared."

My mouth lifts into a smile just as I hear a crunching noise behind me. I peek over my shoulder and see Mike leading a procession of people back to the beach. I find myself instantly frowning. I guess it's time to leave and eat lunch - which also means that I will be required to stumble down the hiking trail once again. I hadn't realized that I would have to go through that hell so soon.

Edward must spot them leaving too because he pops up into a standing position, takes a moment to stretch his arms above his head, and then holds his hand out for me to take. I grab on to it and he pulls me up alongside of him.

The journey back to the beach isn't quite as terrible of an ordeal as it was earlier. We take our time walking the path, not minding that the others are getting well ahead of us. Whenever I am about to teeter over, his arm shoots out to steady me while I make sure to keep a hand on him at all times. Now that I am aware that the secret to hiking is to always have a sturdy boy to hang on to, I get the appeal.

By the time we make it to the open air of the beach, I notice that the sun is hiding behind a blanket of clouds. The loss of sunlight cools the temperature of the area, requiring me to zip up my jacket. I'm very relieved to find that the bonfire is still going strong. Our friends and classmates are crowded around its flames and digging into their lunch of sandwiches and cans of cheap soda.

As Edward and I get closer, I see that several new faces have joined our group. We take a seat on an unoccupied piece of driftwood and Eric hands us our lunch, who then loudly introduces us to the La Push kids. I shyly wave at some of them while Edward just gives a simple head nod of acknowledgement, his posture suddenly stiff. Several of the La Push kids say hello and exchange friendly smiles.

While I'm eating my sandwich, Tyler chats to one of the new girls and I casually watch them interact. With long, black hair the color of obsidian and her coy smile, she is undeniably pretty. Tyler's eyes grow big and dopey, appearing as though he just got shot by Cupid's arrow. I hide my smile when I overhear him boast that he once won a pie eating contest at the county fair. To demonstrate his skills, he stuffs an entire bologna sandwich into his mouth and tries to eat it in one go. Thankfully, one of the seniors in our group steps in and performs the heimlich maneuver before he turns blue.

The sound of rustling fabric nearby causes my head snap to my left. For a second, all I can see is a barrel-chest wearing a thin cotton t-shirt on this chilly day. My eyes travel up and up in search of the stranger's face until my head flops back. The man standing there is far and away the tallest person I have ever seen. It feels like I am looking up at the top of a tree. If he only possessed a bit more hair he could find work as a Chewbacca impersonator.

Speaking of his hair, it's dark and cropped short. This is odd because most of the other La Push boys wear theirs much longer. They seem much nicer than this guy, too. With arms folded across his bulging pecs, the stranger stares down at us with a hard, unsmiling expression.

Standing to his right is another man not quite as tall, yet he is still very muscular compared to your average person. But, unlike the huge man, this guy's face is downright menacing. There's a nasty sneer there that's being directed at Edward. He appears even less friendly than the giant.

"I never expected to see you here," the taller man says with a voice like the Jolly Green Giant's.

Edward has stopped eating his sandwich and quickly swallows what is in his mouth, his eyes already locked onto the man's face. "Yes, well... Under normal circumstances, this would be about the time when I would say it's a pleasure to see you again, but I'm afraid that I cannot truthfully say that in this instance."

The man barks a laugh but his eyes remain unamused. "I'm not your enemy," he counters.

Edward flashes a condescending smile. "Oh, I know. I've never considered you as anything more than a pain in my neck. The word enemy gives you more credit than I can give you."

The other man's thick brow ridge collides when he glowers down at us. "You talk to Sam with some respect."

A bronze brow lifts and Edward studies the guy for a moment. "I give my respect where it is due," he stresses, his tone calm and unflinching.

The second man's eyes narrow and his nostrils flare like an irritated bull's. Then turning his focus on to the giant named Sam, he barks, "This guy is a piece of work. I knew he wasn't worth the trouble."

"Finally. Something we can both agree upon," Edward fires back, nodding his head up and down.

Sam stares back mutely for a few beats. His lips pucker ruminatively as he scans the area immediately around us. "I see that you've been enjoying yourself today," he remarks.

Edward's eyes briefly hold the gaze of the second stranger's face. "It was wonderful. But, funnily enough, I don't feel quite as secure now as I had been."

The second man's gigantic hands ball up into hardened fists, soon turning white with strain. In seconds his body vibrates, appearing like a volcano readying itself to erupt.

Edward's body instantly tenses and he drops his half-eaten sandwich onto the ground. Without looking away from the shaking man, he grabs me around the elbow and secures a firm grip. My heart pounds in my chest, fueled partly by the sudden stress I feel pouring from him.

The man grinds his teeth and glares back with feral eyes. "You're a lot safer here than you would ever be at your house," he growls.

Sam's arms fall to his sides and he whips around to face the enraged man. "Paul. Go cool off," he instructs, his mouth sloped into a deep frown.

Sam's companion immediately diverts his eyes to the ground and nods his head. Although his shoulders are only slightly shaking now, I see that his hands are still fisted at his sides. Without another word, Paul turns around and stomps towards a dirt path that leads to a small group of houses.

Edward's grip on my arm gradually loosens once the guy is a good distance way. I temporarily close my eyes and try to breathe through my nose in hopes of decreasing my accelerated heart rate. When my eyes reopen, I take a good look around and notice that most of our classmates are either talking amongst themselves or preparing to return to the tide pools. I'm shocked to discover that no one in our group seems to have noticed the heated exchange that occurred right under their noses.

Edward shoots up from the driftwood log with his square jaw locked tight. "I need to speak with you privately, Sam," he demands. Sam dips his head in agreement and backs up a few paces. Before the two of them leave, Edward looks down at me and the fire in his eyes briefly extinguishes. "Excuse me for a moment, please. I'll be right back," he softly requests.

A jolt of fear stuns me and my heart starts pounding again. I don't want him to go off by himself with this guy. Even though Sam appears in better control of his temper than that Paul person, I still don't trust him completely. There's a part of me that wants to grab on to Edward's shirt and tug him back down with me. But the determined look on his face seems to plead for me to understand that this is something that he has to do. So, I reluctantly nod my head and allow him to walk away.

I watch worriedly as they march up the beach while I mull over what just happened. What's going on? The conversation they had in front of me made no sense. How does Edward know those two giants? And why would that Paul guy even bring up Edward's house and insinuate that it isn't safe?

The further away they go, the more pressure my teeth exert on my bottom lip. Just as I am wondering how far they plan to go, a boy plops down right in my field of view and takes the seat Edward just left behind without asking.

The boy is one of the kids who lives on the reservation. His long, dark hair hangs down below his shoulders, and the warm smile that he wears would be a welcome sight under normal circumstances. But after what I just witnessed between Edward and those two giants, it certainly isn't helping my anxiety any. Nor my annoyance. He's kind of blocking my view of what's going on...

"Long time, no see, Bella," the boy says casually.

My forehead creases and I blink back at him dumbly. He flashes a white-toothed grin, slaps his knee, and brays a laugh. "Excuse me?" I ask with mounting confusion.

"Sorry. I'm just jerking your chain," he jokes. He holds out his hand until I shake it. "I'm Jacob. I'm a couple of years younger than you are so you probably won't remember me. But I bet you know my dad and sisters. We're the Blacks. My dad's Billy."

The names sparks something inside of me. "My dad bought my truck from him," I murmur. Jacob confirms my statement by nodding his head.

Though my memory is fuzzy when it comes to my past trips to Forks, I do vaguely remember Billy and his twin daughters. Charlie and Billy have been friends since before I was born. A few years ago he lost his wife in a terrible car accident which also paralysed him from the waist down.

Each summer during my childhood, Charlie would drive elementary age me to La Push for a day of fun playing with the twins while he talked sports with Billy. Well, he had hoped I would have fun playing with them. In reality, I was painfully shy back then and had trouble speaking when around new people. This made it difficult for me to make friends. I later found out that the twins had incorrectly assumed that I couldn't speak English since I was too nervous to talk. No wonder they usually only communicated with me by using body language and hand signs. At the time I thought that they just liked pretending to be mimes. The three of us would usually limit our interactions to building sandcastles and walking in the waves until it was time for Charlie and me to return home.

I bend forward until Jacob is no longer blocking my view of Edward. He and Sam keep on walking up the beach and don't stop until they are both far away from the bonfire.

"Um, Jacob?" I begin hesitantly. "Do you know that big guy that's talking to my - uh - friend over there?"

Jacob checks where I am pointing and the smile on his face slackens. "Yeah. That's Sam. He thinks he's 'the protector' of La Push." He rolls his eyes to the sky and snorts derisively. "He's a real asshole is what he is. All he does is roam the Rez and try to order people around, telling us not to leave after dark and stupid stuff like that.

"Then, a couple of months ago, I noticed that my friends Paul and Jared disappeared for a few weeks. My dad said that they came down with pneumonia but would be OK once the sickness passed. Well, when they came back, they were acting just like Sam. They don't wanna hang out with us anymore. They shoot you down when you try to invite 'em to play a video game. They skip school a lot more now. All they ever want to do is tag along wherever Sam goes, playing Follow The Leader. And they'll do whatever he orders - like they think he's a mafia boss or something. One time I heard that Jared took his girlfriend to that steakhouse in Forks, and in the middle of dinner, Sam called to tell him to drop everything and come straight back to the Rez. And he did! I'm telling ya - it's like he's running a cult. He's Marilyn Manson while they're his devoted followers."

"I think you mean Charles Manson," I correct, glancing back and forth between him and the distant bronze-haired boy.

Jacob's face winces slightly, noticeably embarrassed. "Oh. Yeah, that's right." Pausing to snatch up a pebble, he plays with it absentmindedly as he continues to speak. "Me and my friends tried bringing it to the attention of the Tribe Elders of what was going on, but they didn't see any problem with it. They said that Sam is-" Jacob lowers his voice into a deep rasp and grumbles mockingly, "An exemplary role model for the youth of the Quileute tribe that deserves our full support." Throwing the rock into the fire, he shakes his head and stares into the purple and blue flames.

My eyes have barely left Edward during Jacob's story. More worry surfaces within me when I notice Sam glaring down at him. Despite the fact that Edward easily hits over six foot two, Sam still towers above him. But that doesn't appear to intimidate Edward. I see him visibly upset, waving his arms around as he speaks. I'm terrified that he's going to say something to anger Sam and the two of them are going to start brawling right there.

"He isn't - umm - crazy or anything, is he?" I question anxiously with my eye on Sam.

Jacobs snickers and scratches the tip of his nose. "It depends on what your definition of crazy is. Is he crazy enough to rob a bank and hold people hostage? I don't think so. Is he crazy enough to booby trap his front yard to keep invisible boogie men from getting to his house? Yeah. Most definitely."

I go back to monitoring Sam, searching for signs that he will attack. Edward has stopped arguing and looks my way for several beats before the giant man reclaims his attention.

"Do you think he's crazy enough to hurt Edward?"

"Nah. Edward should be fine. Sam's too obsessed with him to do anything like that. Actually, I'm kinda glad to see that he's putting Sam through a little bit of hell. If I talked back like that, Sam would probably put a hole through my face," he laughs.

My eyes fly back to Jacob. "Obsessed?" I repeat.

"Sure. My dad and the rest of the Elders are obsessed with him too."

"Why?"

Jacob's hand rises to rub the back of his neck and his mouth moves uncertainly to the side. "It sounds kinda dumb..."

Sensing his hesitation, I force my lips into a hopefully friendly smile. "I doubt that. I'm sure it's very.. interesting," I urge encouragingly.

His mocha brown eyes glaze over and a funny, half-smile appears out of nowhere. "Yeah," he agrees, clearing his throat. "It is interesting. You see, uh, for the first couple of months after Edward moved here, all I heard around my house was his name. It was really annoying." I nod and pretend like I understand what he is saying even though I don't. "Sam and some of the Tribe Elders tried to think up ways to get him to come to La Push. My dad was constantly trying to get me to call Edward's house and convince him to come stay with us. I told him there's no way I'm gonna do that. I didn't want to look insane, you know? I met the guy exactly one time. And Dad thought that I could talk him into giving up a mansion in exchange for living in a three bedroom house with paint peeling off the sides? I mean, we don't even have cable! So, yeah. That ain't gonna happen," he snorts.

"Billy wanted Edward to live here?" I repeat with knitted brows. It almost sounds like they want to recruit him into Sam's gang. But why?

"That's the funny thing about it, Bella. Dad doesn't care where Edward lives as long as it's not with the Cullens."

"Why is that? I don't understand."

"Well, my dad has changed since you last saw him. He's paranoid. Delusional. You could say that he's almost as crazy as Sam. Dad and Sam have been going around telling everybody on the Rez to stay away from the Cullens. Now he's got half the population scared to death of 'em. It's crazy. Whenever we're in town and he spots one of them - even that tiny one that's barely taller than a kindergartner - Dad practically has a hemorrhage until I can turn the car around and drive us home."

Looking off into the distance, I'm relieved to find Edward strolling back towards the bonfire, leaving Sam behind to watch the ocean's waves. Edward's hands are thrust deep in his pockets, his face brooding as the wind rustles his hair.

At the same time, Jacob frowns when he adds, "It's gotten so bad that Dad is losing some of his friends. One time a few months back, I heard my old man trying to convince your dad to use his power as police chief to get Edward out of the Cullen house, saying that his health and welfare were at risk. Charlie didn't believe him and said that since there was no evidence to back up the claim, he couldn't do anything. Then, around a month ago, Dad must have said something really bad about them to Charlie and it didn't go over so well. They got into a huge fight. Charlie hasn't been back to the house since it happened."

"That's sad to hear," I say with a frown.

"Yep. Dad and Charlie have been friends forever. But I'm sure they'll make up eventually."

Just as I am poised to ask why his dad seems to hate the Cullens so much, Jacob glances to his left and notices Edward only a couple of dozen feet away. Without speaking, he stands and backs up enough to allow Edward to sit down beside me again.

While Edward carefully reseats himself, Jacob chirps, "Hey, Edward."

In response, Edward stares for a few beats longer than usual. "Hello," he replies, using an uncertain, bewildered inflection.

Jacob's smile spreads a little wider. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Edward's head cocks to the side and his eyelids half-shut. "I remember you. I just don't remember where I remember you," he remarks drolly.

"The Thriftway back last summer. You met my dad, too."

"Billy Black," Edward murmurs while he studies the boy in front of him. "And Joseph?"

"Jacob," the boy corrects in a laugh. "But don't worry about it. I forgot your name too until your friends reminded me of it."

Wetting his dry lips with the tip of his tongue, Edward politely asks, "Is your father doing well?"

Jacob chuckles and shifts his weight to his other leg. "He's good. Crazy as a hornet's nest, but good."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"My dad bought my truck off of Billy," I admit.

His eyes open slightly larger than before. "Really? I wasn't aware that they knew each other."

A short burst of laughter vibrates our eardrums. "Everyone knows each other here," Jacob grins.

"Very true," slowly nods Edward.

A strong gust of wind flies past us, blowing my hair all around. One strand lands on my face and tickles my nose until I shove it out of my way. "My dad and Billy have known each other for years," I explain to Edward. "I used to come here to play with Jacob's sisters when I visited Forks during summer break."

For the first time since Sam and Paul came and ruined the relaxed atmosphere, a small but adorable smile adorns Edward's face. "You didn't fall in the ocean while you were playing with them, did you?"

My back straightens warily. "I don't remember."

A mischievous gleam in his eyes accompanies his smile. "Oh, but I think that you do," he purrs. "Isn't there a picture of you on your mantel that shows you being pulled out from the surf by another girl with long, raven-black hair?"

My mouth compresses with annoyance at his question. His knowledge of that incident can only mean one thing. Edward broke a house rule. I only gave him two to follow. One, always wipe your feet before you step into the house. And two, keep at least twenty feet away from my gallery of shame that my father insists in showing off in the living room. Pictures of me from birth all the way up to the present decorates the area. I still don't understand why Charlie enjoys seeing me in all of my past awkward phases. It's like looking at a Halloween display 365 days a year.

"I told you not to look at those things," I snap with eyes narrowed.

"I can't help it. They are all so mesmerizing," he teases, his tone sounding dreamy.

This almost gets me to laugh, but I stay strong since I now have a plan to take revenge. "Just wait. I'll be sure to ask Esme and your sister to spill every embarrassing moment of your life to me the next time that I see them. Then you'll be sorry for disobeying my order."

He shrugs his shoulders and keeps the smile firmly in place. "They have only known me for a few months, so those humiliating stories about me wouldn't last very long. But I'll tell you what - I'll try to recall them all myself if that would make you happy."

"Deal. And I want all the details. No slacking," I smile.

He places a stiffened hand at his forehead and salutes me like I'm a General. "Your wish, my command," he agrees.

A loud, coughing noise pierces the bubble Edward and I have inadvertantly constructed. Tearing my eyes away from him, I see that we completely forgot that we had a third person with us. A wave of remorse crashes into me when I realize that we were leaving Jacob out of the conversation.

"I guess I better get a move on," he faintly smiles, backing away. "It was nice seeing you, Bella. You, too, Edward. Catch ya later," he adds with a wave of his hand. We give a quick goodbye before he takes the path that Paul used earlier and he soon disappears into the trees.

Now that it is just Edward and me, our eyes meet and I stare back guiltily. "Oops. I hope we didn't hurt his feelings."

He tries to reassure me that Jacob understands, but I don't see how that's possible. Not only did we make him the third wheel, we completely detached him from the conversation. I'll need to apologize the next time I see him.

Edward and I remain by the fire as the afternoon progresses. Most of the other kids have wandered off, either to stroll along the shore or explore the tide pool area again. I'm enjoying the peace and quiet when something hits my nose. Then my hand, hair, and knee.

Rain.

My nose scrunches irritably and I give the slate-gray clouds a scowl. They're blocking the sun completely. All I wanted was one nice day. That's it. Mike kept telling us during the past week that the forecast predicted an uninterrupted weekend of sun and warmer temperatures.

"I knew the sun wouldn't last long," I grumble.

Light drizzle soon turns into big, fat drops of cold rain. I'm the only person who had the foresight to wear a jacket with a hood. People start streaming in from all directions with their sights set on the parking lot. Edward and I do the same. I guess it's time to go home.

As we walk the path leading to the parking area, I observe a bunch of my classmates attempting to squeeze into Mike's SUV. I am kind of glad that he was a jerk this morning. Because if he hadn't left us with no choice but to take the Volvo, Edward and I would be now stuffing ourselves into a cramped vehicle with a car load of cold, damp, miserable people. And the Volvo has the additional advantages of possessing heated seats and a wet driver whose white shirt is beginning to stick to his torso. This requires intensive study that I can't enjoy if there are a bunch of people around.

I plan to also question him about what happened earlier between himself and Sam. Although Jacob said that Sam wouldn't harm Edward, that doesn't mean Paul won't try. Maybe Paul is jealous of the attention Edward receives from Sam and that's why he looked ready to fight. Though that doesn't explain why some of the tribe appears to not trust the Cullens. I still don't understand that.

Edward and I are nearing the car when a tap on the shoulder stops me. "Go ask Angela if she would like to go back to Forks with us," he says in a hushed tone, his head tipping forward. I look in the direction he is indicating and notice her a few paces ahead.

My forehead furrows at his unusual request. He's up to something. I can tell. He doesn't usually offer car rides for no reason. But the low-key eagerness I see displayed on his face has me agreeing to what he wants without question. Damn his sweet, hypnotic eyes.

Edward hands me his car keys and then stops to look around while I continue going forward. I quicken my pace until Angela and I are walking side by side. Rain drops are plopping onto her uncovered head, drenching her honey-brown hair and fogging up her glasses.

"Hey, Ang," I call out over the noise of the rain shower. "Do you want to ride with Edward and me? There's plenty of room."

"Yes! That sounds great. Thanks," she agrees. With a cautious look around her, she lowers her voice to a near whisper and adds, "During our ride back to Forks, Mike promised to talk to us about the time he hiked the Pacific Crest Trail."

She and I exchange knowing looks. No further explanation concerning why she is so appreciative of the offered ride is needed.

As quickly as we can, we rush to Edward's car and I unlock the doors. She hops into the back and I take the front passenger seat. The first thing she does once we are inside is remove her wet eyeglasses and attempt to dry the lenses with her shirt.

"Where's Edward?" she wonders as she places her glasses back upon her nose.

I fidget in my seat and scan around the parking lot, squinting my eyes with the hope of seeing through the car's water-streaked windows. But I can't make anything out thanks to the pouring rain. "Uh. He'll be here soon. I think he needed to do something before we leave," I explain awkwardly.

Angela appears to accept my answer and soon smiles at me. "I'm glad that there was a tiny bit of truth to all those rumors I've been hearing. You're very cute together."

I can feel a faint blush warming my cheeks and I lower my eyes. "Thanks."

"I don't think I've ever seen him smile so much."

My face pops back up. "Really?"

"Uh-huh," she nods. "And you're smiling more, too."

I can't deny it. It's true. In fact, I'm smiling now just thinking about him smiling.

The back door opens and Angela and I immediately stop talking. I look out the window and see Edward and Ben standing in the rain. Ben stares at the backseat and doesn't move for several moments. Then, he snaps his head up to examine Edward's angelic, smiling face.

"Hurry up, Ben. You better get in before the storm comes," advises Edward.

Ben slides into the back as slow as a slug, his gaze fixed upon Angela the entire time. Once seated, he turns and I catch sight of his enlarged eyes behind his thick, wet glasses. Meanwhile Angela stares straight ahead with a body as stiff as a board. The talkative, friendly girl I spoke to just a minute ago is nowhere to be found.

Edward relaxedly steps inside of the car and pulls his seatbelt across his lap. I keep one eye on him, wondering what his angle is. If this is the guy he was hinting at earlier that he believes is interested in taking Angela to the school dance, then I think he's barking up the wrong tree. Angela won't even look at the boy, and Ben is literally shaking in his sneakers. This isn't going to end well.

Edward fires up the engine and we hit the road. He keeps his car's sound system turned off, which makes the silent car ride seem that much more uncomfortable. It isn't until we have exited the reservation does anyone attempt to make conversation.

"So, Bella. Are you going to that dance next Saturday?"

My face instantly rotates to my left to gape at Edward with furrowed eyebrows. Is he feeling all right? Did he hit his head when I wasn't looking and he now suffers from amnesia? He should know the answer to that question.

His lips curl up lopsidedly and he gives a sneaky, dazzling wink. The temperature in the car hits a thousand degrees. I'm really going to need to buy one of those battery-powered, handheld fans to combat the problem.

He keeps waiting expectantly, his attention switching from the road to my face. It occurs to me that I should just answer the question and stop staring at him dreamy-eyed.

Clearing my throat, I say, "No. I'm going to Seattle that day."

His head cocks to the side a few degrees. "Oh, that's right. Now I remember," he replies. The Volvo drives on through an intensifying downpour and a rumble of thunder fills the empty silence until he speaks again. "What about you, Angela? Are you going?"

She turns away from her window and looks towards the front. "No, I guess I'm just going to stay at home." For a spilt second, Ben glances at her unobserved before lowering his eyes down to his lap.

"Oh," says Edward as though this is news to him. He peers into the rearview mirror, and says, "And you, Ben? Surely you're going?"

"No. I'm not," he mutters.

Sadly shaking his head, Edward looks over at me. "That's too bad. I heard that it was going to be a lot of fun. Isn't that right, Bella?" he adds, sounding an awful lot like he's hinting for me to back him up.

"Yeah, I heard that, too."

He forms a small frown and says in almost a sigh, "You would think in this day and age that everyone that wants to attend such a function could do so - without any fears or qualms." I move my head up and down like I'm agreeing with him. "There must be some way that Ben and Angela could go to that dance. It's not fair for them to be left out," he drifts off, stroking the corner of his jaw.

"There's still plenty of time for them to find a date, Edward," I retort in an annoyed tone, though I almost laugh at how fake I probably sound.

"I suppose you're right... If only they could find a partner with absolutely no plans and they would both find to be pleasant to be around." I nod my head while he stares ahead in seemingly deep thought. Soon his body does a jerking movement and he's sitting up straighter. "Here's an idea - why don't you two just go together?"

I give a glance behind me and witness Angela and Ben staring at one another. Her mouth is slightly ajar while he nervously fiddles with his fingers. Although I still don't see any signs of a love connection, I put my trust into Edward's plan and go along it. Slapping on an enthusiastic grin, I look first at Edward and then at the people on the backseat. "That's an excellent idea! What do you two think?"

Ben looks back down at his twitching fingers. "I wouldn't want to be a burden to anyone. Especially someone like Angela," he says sadly.

Angela tilts her head and looks at him with a softening expression. "You're not a burden at all."

His eyes rise until his meets hers. They stay locked for a fleeting moment before they both swing their faces back towards their windows. My interest perks up. There's nothing to see out of those windows except trees, rain, and clouds. So they are basically looking at nothing. I'm beginning to realize that these two are so shy with one another that they have trouble maintaining eye contact. Maybe Edward is onto something after all.

"Why haven't you found a date yet?" I hear Ben ask a couple of minutes later.

"I didn't think anyone was interested in going with me."

He huffs out a scoffing laugh. "That's impossible."

"It's true."

I sneak a peek behind me and see Ben bravely attempting to look at Angela directly. "Would you go if I were to ask you?" he says in a voice that is only a little bit shaky.

"Yeah. I guess I would," she answers with a rising smile.

His expression matches hers when he says more confidently, "Then I guess I should ask you, shouldn't I?"

She giggles a quiet laugh. "That sounds like a good idea."

"Will you go with me to the spring dance?"

"Yes, I will."

They're mutual grins are so sweet that it feels like I'm watching a cheesy Christmas romance on the Hallmark channel. I have the distinct urge to go "aww" at them and maybe search for some tissues to dab at my eyes. But I don't since that would clue them in that I am watching.

I decide to turn back around in order to give them privacy. My attention soon darts over to our driver and I notice that he is already looking in my direction. Edward's mouth tilts up at one corner, appearing infinitely pleased with the outcome of the strategy he concocted. Smug smiles shouldn't be attractive, but he somehow manages to make it work.

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A/N- A lot happened in the chapter. Let's review. Mike's a jerk. Edward is swoony. Sam is as large as Bigfoot and is possibly crazy. Paul is also large and acts like a major douchebag. Jacob may be a bit too eager to discuss what's been going on around the reservation. Some of the folks of La Push are wary of the paler members of the Cullen family. And, Angela and Ben are super sweet together. Please discuss.

Next Chapter- Bella questions Edward about Sam and the Cullens. And though the rain may have driven them away from First Beach, their day has only just begun.

Thanks for reading! :-)