Leah can't get away from her past, although now her past is pursuing her cousin? She doesn't know what's going on, but what she does know is that she's going to put a stop to it. Featuring Bella from my main work Tenebrity, a full Twilight rewrite.

I looked both ways down the street before slipping through the back gate. Emily giggled nervously behind me, clutching my elbow. This was the first time she'd come down from Bellingham without her parents, who always insisted that we spend time together as a family—that is, without any teenage shenanigans. My parents agreed, but it was after midnight and neither of them were awake to stop us from sneaking out.

The yard was empty; nobody was smoking on the stoop. Of course, if Sam wasn't there, it wasn't likely that there would be anything to smoke. It looked like my guess had been right, and I relaxed.

The sound of thumping bass could be heard as I approached the door, which stood ajar. I pushed my way into the dimly lit kitchen, the only occupants Paul and his latest Forks girl wrapped around each other in the corner.

He lifted a hand from her waist and waved, casual. "Heard you finally broke Sam's heart."

I snorted, taking refuge in rudeness. "Didn't know he had one."

He snorted back. "Fair." Someone whooped in the other room. He looked in that direction. Looked back. Caught sight of Emily, standing behind me in the shadows. "Who's your friend?"

"My cousin, Emily. She's Makah. Emily, this is Paul." I'd already warned her about who to look out for and who was safe. Paul was definitely on the first list.

"Nice to meet you," Emily said, shyly.

"Hi," Paul replied. "Wanna watch me kick Leah's ass at beer pong?"

"You wish." The secret to winning at beer pong was blind confidence in your own ability, something I excelled at. "Nah, though."

"Chicken."

"I've got nothing to prove to you." I flipped him off. The girl gasped, looking offended.

"Don't mind her, baby girl," Paul said, stroking her hair. "It's just Leah."

My fingers flexed, itching for a fight, but suddenly the door slammed open. Sam was standing there, and I felt my stomach drop. All attention turned to him and I slipped back into the living room, feeling like I was suffocating. I shouldn't leave Emily, I thought, but I couldn't make myself go back. The night was ruined.

The living room was less full than I had expected. Of course—Forks High was having a dance, and that meant that attendance was down.

"You look killer," a quiet voice said. I looked up and saw Angela leaning against a wall in the corner, looking like a runway model in a long red dress. A Forks girl that I hadn't met yet lounged beside her. Although she and I were wearing more or less the same outfit, I felt suddenly self-conscious in my jeans and flannel.

"The murdering kind, I assume, since the hot kind is clearly taken," I said, once I remembered how to talk.

Angela's cheeks flushed and she looked away. "I came straight from the dance." She paused, as if about to say something else, and then didn't.

I heard Sam's voice in the kitchen and couldn't help a glare. "Yeah, nobody told me that I would be headed straight from the docks to a party, either."

"You work at the docks?" the Forks stranger asked, a crinkle in her brows.

"No. I was trying to be funny."

Angela laughed softly, as if my joke had been good. "I get it." Sam whooped in the distance and my scowl deepened. "You've got a little something on your face," she added, with half a smile.

That got my attention. "What?"

The smile turned into a smirk. "A frown."

I was surprised into laughter. "I deserved that."

"Bad day?" she asked, expression sympathetic.

I gestured in the direction of the kitchen. "Ex."

She grimaced. "Sorry."

The kitchen conversation was coming closer, and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to get out of there. "Want to go outside for a while?"

"I'd love to," she said, and turned to the girl beside her. "Will you be okay, Bella?"

"Yeah," the girl said, looking like she wouldn't be. "Go on."

Angela pushed off the wall, close enough to me that I could smell the subtle notes of her perfume. My stomach twisted. "C'mon." She held a hand out to me and, for lack of a better response, I took it.

We slipped out the door together. The February night was cold, but I hardly noticed. Angela's hand felt warm in mine—not overwhelmingly hot, like Sam's, but reassuring and solid. Her thumb fluttered against my knuckles and I held my breath, the knot in my stomach tightening. I couldn't bring myself to let go, but I didn't hold tight—she could pull away if she wanted to.

She didn't. We leaned against the metal rails of the porch, hands together, elbows brushing. I was afraid to say anything but more afraid to stay quiet.

"How was the dance?"

Angela lifted a shoulder casually. "Bad music. Bad punch. Good friends."

"Who was your date?"

She shrugged again. "I didn't go with anyone."

I tried not to think about the fact that we were still touching or the fact that Sam was only a few feet away or the fact that I had abandoned Emily. "I thought all the Forks kids were always dating each other."

She laughed, a little ruefully. "I'm not interested in anyone… in Forks."

My stomach did a flip and I swallowed. "Oh yeah?"

"Leah? Leah!" Emily's voice suddenly rang out from inside the house and I jumped as if stung. "Leah!"

I pulled away from Angela quickly and yanked the door open. "Are you okay?"

Emily looked small, her face—usually cheerful—shadowed. "I want to go home."

"We'll go. We'll go right now." I grabbed her arm and pulled her outside, everything else forgotten. "Are you okay? Whose ass do I have to kick?"

"It's fine," she said, sounding like it wasn't. "I just want to go."

Angela's face looked complicated for a second, but quickly became concerned and understanding. "Are you good to drive?" she asked me.

"We walked." The words were more abrupt than I wanted. "Um, it was nice to talk to you. You should, um, text me." If she had kept my number.

Sam was suddenly outside with us. "Emily," he said, urgently. She pulled away from him and I got in his face, anger filling me.

"Get the fuck away from her," I spat. "Stay out of my life."

"This isn't about you," he said, hands in the air between us. I couldn't tell if he was trying to calm me down or reach for Emily, but both options made me angrier.

"Like hell it isn't."

Paul's arrival turned the porch from crowded to unbearable. He hooked an arm around Sam, pulling him away from us and back toward the door to the house. "Sam."

"I have to," Sam said, the strange urgency back in his voice. "You don't understand, I have to—"

I saw the muscles in Paul's arm bulge. His knuckles whitened around Sam's arm and Sam yelped, then whirled on him. "Sam," he repeated, sounding furious. "Snap out of it."

Sam was trembling from head to toe. "I—"

I backed away, Emily behind me. Angela had disappeared—I didn't blame her. Sam turned back toward us, a look in his eyes that I had never seen before. My stomach flipped. He tried to pull away from Paul, but Paul shook him—or maybe it was Sam who was shaking. I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

"Get out of here," Paul said, something dark bleeding into his voice. Emily grabbed my arm and pulled me toward home, and I let her—but I couldn't stop checking behind me. It looked like Sam had become my problem again.