The Classics


I groaned, flicking my bag into the truck; it hitting the passenger side floor with a thud. It had been a long day. Tuesdays were never good, but this one in particular was absolutely intolerable.

I was suppose to have plans with my father to go hunting after school, but at the last minute this morning he called it off. Apparently he had to help Chief Swan out with a problem he was having, but I had caught him sneaking out of the house with his rifle, so it was pretty obvious that his excuse was a lie, and he actually wanted to go alone. This wouldn't bother me as much as it did if it weren't for the fact that I had nothing else to do, and when I had nothing to do I couldn't distract myself from thinking about Sam Uley.

My mind felt as if it were collapsing in on itself, as the events over the weekend kept on repeating in my head, making it ache beyond belief. After what had happened, I had shut myself in my room for the entirety of Monday, telling my mother that I was sick. It wasn't a lie. I did feel sick. I was both physically exhausted from the hike and mentally from everything that happened afterwards.

I still didn't know what to think of the whole situation. About the legends of the tribe and the wolf – which I still questioned whether if I was being crazy to believe in the possibility that it could be Sam.

I didn't want to believe it. It was probably crazy of me to believe it, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was all true.

I wanted to find out more on the tribe, but I wasn't able to find the Quileute Legends book that had seemed to disappear on me. I even bugged Leah about it some more but she had swore to me that she never took it. I had asked my father if he had any other books on the tribe, and while he said yes, apparently they were all written in Quillayute, so that was a lost cause.

As I reached home, I hopped out of the truck and walked towards the door. Cracking it open, I paused, hearing the sound of my mother's laugh; but not only hers, but the laugh of a man as well. A laugh I knew all too well. I instantly felt queasy, and my mind was telling me to get away from the area as quickly as possible, but I proceeded on, gently clicking the door shut behind me.

"You haven't changed a bit." Her voice spoke, only to laugh again.

I took each step carefully, as to not make any sound. I peeked my head through the doorway of the kitchen, spotting my mother leaning on the counter.

Across from her sat Paul.

He was looking at me, his face unreadable. I only stared back; my mouth slightly parted and my eyes wide.

"Oh," My mother noticed my arrival. "I didn't hear you come in, Seth."

I felt myself began to shake as I continued to looked into the eyes of the boy who abandoned me; his glossed over and digging deep into mine, which seemed to be filled with emotion. I felt myself grow pale as my unsteady hand tried its best to keep grip on the door frame.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned.

"He just came over to generously drop off some of the jam his father made." My mother said, to which she gave a bright smile at the boy.

"I guess I'll take my leave." Paul spoke, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Leaving so soon?" She asked.

"Got some things to do." To which he then gave her a charming smile. My mother then bid him farewell.

My eyes never left the seat where he had sat. He brushed up against me, which I felt the intense heat that seemed to radiate off of him. But despite this, my body felt ice cold.

And with the sound of a door closing, he was gone.

I continued to stare at the now empty seat.

"Is there something wrong, Seth?" My mother asked. My eyes shot over to her as I felt a wave of anger and frustration overtake me.

"You know exactly what's wrong!" I barked back; making her jump from the sudden outburst.

"Now Seth, don't be like that."

"Why shouldn't I? You know what he did, and you know how much he hurt me." I was shaking; anger unleashing from within me in waves upon waves. The anger mixed with sorrow and pain as all the memories shot back to me like a bullet, crushing my skull from the inside. My hands were pressed to the sides of my head as I felt myself push back in response.

"Seth, he's a good person."

My eyes harshly shot up towards her. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Good person…?" I was quiet. "Good person?" I repeated; practically spitting acid at her feet. "What, he ended our friendship then stomped on it in front of my face because he's so great. Are you kidding me?"

My mother stood defensive, as if I was a wild animal about to attack. "Seth, you don't understand now, but maybe one day you will."

"One day." I hissed. "One day is already too late."

To add to the already horrible condition I was in, my heart felt it had been crushed yet again as I relived the pain I felt that day on the beach. What does 'One day' even mean? What does she know?

I furiously dragged myself up the stairs, taking quick steps towards my room, only to slow down as I felt myself growing less angry and more saddened. My gaze never left the floor as each memory of that day began crashing back to me. By the time my hand reached the knob of the door, the tears were already running down my face as my throat threatened to let out a sob. I sniffled, not letting myself break before I was in a secluded area. Pushing the door open and closing it behind me, I locked it.

As my eyes trailed upwards from the floor, the lump in my throat I had been holding in broke free, but instead of sobbing, I let out a gasp.

Paul stood tall, with his sharply structured face blank. He was planted directly in the middle of the room; broad chest pushed high. His lips were tightly pressed together as his eyes invaded mine.

He didn't speak.

I gasped for air as realizing I had been holding my breath. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

He only continued to stare. Moments passed as we stood in intense silence, the whole world feeling as it had stopped.

"H-how'd you get in here?" I questioned, to which he casually pointed to the open window next to my bed. I didn't know what else to say. Why was he here? And what did he want? "If you're here to stomp on my feelings some more, feel free to leave." I glared at him.

I always spoke what I was really feeling with Paul. It was one of the few things that came naturally. Our friendship has – had always been like that.

Within seconds, the hardened exterior the boy had built around him seemed to slowly break open; his face being the first victim. The look of grief he wore was extreme. His fists clenched, shaking uncontrollably as his entire body seemed to let out a shiver. His mouth was open, teeth clenched as his eyes were pressed together in desperation. It wasn't enough, as a lone tear escaped from the seam of his eye, only to be followed by another, until finally he let out a sharp breath through the locked spaces of teeth.

He was crying?

He started to approach. Each step slow and steady as he made his way towards me. I wanted to back up defensively, but my body was already in front of the door. After a few more steps, he stopped, practically towering over me with an unreadable expression. I was about to question what he was doing, but my train of thought was cut off as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest, securing me in an embrace. He rested his head on top of mine. The heat off his body engulfed me as I stood there, completely stunned as to what was going on.

A few moments passed as I unconsciously found myself wrapping my arms back around him despite my mind telling me to push him away and start running towards the hills.

This week could not get any stranger.

I heard Paul sigh, only to whisper words into my hair.

"I missed you so much." His voice was strained. "I'm sorry." He continued. "I'm so sorry for everything I put you though, but I'm done trying to keep away from you. I can't bare it any longer." He was now shaking. "I'm so sorry, Seth. I hope you're able to forgive a sickening monster like me."

I pushed back on his chest to look up at the boy. "Paul… what's going on?" I was desperate to know. "Why are you apologizing to me all of a sudden? What happened to not wanting to be friends? I just can't understand anything, y-you're just not making any sense."

"I can't tell you right yet." His voice was barely audible. I felt myself instantly pushing away from him, only for him to pull me back in. "No... Please… I promise you'll know soon, I just can't tell you right yet. Can you accept that?"

I silently laughed into him. "Can I accept that?" I mocked the words. "First you say you don't want to be friends, and now we're in my room while you practically crush me with your arms, asking me to forgive you for everything that's happened. What's with this back and forth battle you have going on? I swear, I'm getting whiplash from just being near you." He eased his grip around me. "I just don't understand it." But I guess I didn't really understand anything that's happened to me in the past few days.

I fell silent, but I knew that Paul was still waiting for me to answer his question. Could I forgive him? I didn't want to. I wanted to force myself not to. But for some reason as I stood there hugging my former best friend, I couldn't say no. As if the word had completely dropped out of my vocabulary, it felt as if though some sort of force was refusing to let me deny what he so desperately wanted, and instead was forcing me to comply.

"Paul, I don't know if I can trust you after this." I said truthfully. I felt his whole body sag onto me in response. "But," I continued. "If you promise to never do this to me again, I guess I could learn to."

"I promise." He whispered eagerly, tightening his grip around me again.

I sighed; letting all of the confusion wash away, only to be replaced by acceptance.

"Then I forgive you."

I could feel a smile forming from his mouth which had been still buried in my hair. We stayed like that for a few moments, feeling at peace with one another.

Then Paul's stomach growled.

I let out a big laugh, to which he let me lose from his grip as he wrapped his arm around his waist, embarrassed.

"Do you uhh… want to go get something to eat?" I asked him, unsure if it was too soon to start acting friendly towards him.

He nodded eagerly.

"I'll meet you down in the truck." He spoke, before walking towards the window. As it registered in my mind as to what he was about to do, I quickly hissed at him.

"What are you doing?"

But it was already too late, as I saw his figure jump from the window.

Stricken with panic, I sprinted over, looking down at the ground outside, fully expecting to see Paul sprawled out with some kind of injury, but he stood straight, looking back up, giving me his famous cocky grin. I rolled my eyes at him, shaking off the minor heart attack I just experienced before closing the window and sprinting down stairs.

"I'm heading out!" I announced to my mother.

"And where exactly is out?" She questioned.

"Out." I happily responded, bolting out the door.

I spotted Paul. He was sitting in the driver's side of my truck, patiently waiting for me. I walked around towards the passenger side before opening the door and hopping in.

"Keys, please." He said, sticking out his open hand.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "And why exactly do you get to drive?" I questioned, passing over the item he desired.

"My driving on my worst day is a thousand times better than you on your best." He stated; his head held high. I pretended to be offended at the comment. He cheerfully laughed at my overdramatic reaction.

We drove up the road to Forks. Neither of us spoke, but it was a relaxed silence. A peaceful one that was familiar.

My mind still couldn't comprehend that I was sitting in my truck with Paul, let alone the fact that we were… I would want to say best friends again, but I didn't want to let my guard down so quickly. I felt weary, but I didn't dwell on it though, as I'm sure that Paul thought we were best friends again.

Questions floated around in my head. I wanted to ask him about it, but I knew that he wouldn't tell me, as he already said beforehand. It bothered me though. Paul was in this 'pack' that seemed to be led by Sam Uley. I wonder if Paul knew about the black wolf – that is if my assumption about Sam was correct. I wanted to speak about it badly, but I was afraid it would upset the ambiance we had going.

Instead, I settled for trivial questions.

"You broke up with Rachel." I more so stated than asked. I could see the grim look that appeared on his face, only to vanish seconds later.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I found someone else."

I whipped my head back towards the boy, surprised as to what he had said. His lip had curled up into a half grin.

I waited a few moments before asking; "Seriously?"

"Yeah." He repeated, looking back over at me; his crooked smile now growing. I only frowned at this.

"…I thought you loved her." my voice was faint, confused as to how he could do a one-eighty like that.

Though of course, he did the same thing to our friendship… twice.

"I did." His voice then became full of emotion. "But when I saw this person, I knew it was meant to be."

"Love at first sight, huh?" I questioned.

"You could say something like that."

The way he spoke about them, it seemed that they haven't even spoken yet. I knew Paul was always the type of person to jump the gun when he got a good feeling about something, but was this really worth the risk?

Moments passed, and I realised there was one question I hadn't asked yet.

"So," I looked over to him, wiggling my eyebrows up and down, "Who is she?"

He rolled his eyes. "You don't know them." He said, laughing and giving a toothy grin, his pearly whites vividly contrasting against his russet skin in a beautiful way.

I wasn't afraid to admit that Paul was quite striking in the looks department, and he was quite aware of this himself. Ever since we were growing up, he was always popular with the girls at school – and sometimes even with guys. Of course he wasn't attracted to men, so he let them down easy, but the amount of girlfriends he had would probably be some kind of record somewhere.

Things slowed down in high school after he found Rachel. Something about her caught Paul's attention, and he was hooked ever since. That is until now, and I still questioned as to why it had ended. I doubt the cause was as simple as 'love at first sight'. But I knew Paul, and once he was set on something, he planned to get it, so whoever this girl is, she must be pretty special.

As we entered the outskirts of Forks, I expected us to head into town, but Paul had then turned onto a side road. I shot a look towards him.

"And where exactly are you taking me?"

"I'm in the mood for a mighty burger at Micky-D's. You mind if we go to Port Angeles?" He gave me a hopeful look.

"Sure, although I'm not sure how this old hunk of junk will take driving that far."

Paul nocked the roof with his knuckles. "Have more faith in her, Sethy." I chuckled, shaking my head.

I soon found my mind wandering back to Rachel. I did feel bad about what happened with her and Paul, and even slightly irritated at Paul for what he did, but I guess when you find yourself second-doubting who your with, it probably wasn't meant to be in the first place. That's what I thought anyway.

I believed in soulmates – or at least some form of it anyways. I truly thought that each person had someone that was their other half. But the thing is, I also believed that it's quite possible to never get to meet them in your lifetime.

This is exactly what I thought was going to happen to me.

I rarely dated, but when I did, I enjoy myself with the aspects of being in a relationship, but out of the few girls I did date, something inside of me always told me that they weren't the one, and I probably was never going to find them.

That is unless I got out of La Push.

For awhile now, I've been thinking of saving up a college fund in hopes of someday leaving the reservation, and possibly never looking back.

To other people – especially the older generation, the reservation was their home, and they could never leave it, but I saw it more as a prison. Everywhere you look there was poverty. I was fortunate enough to have parents who both had a nice and steady income, but others weren't so lucky.

Of course it was only an idea, and so far I haven't really acted on it. I knew I would have to sacrifice a few things if I left. Not seeing my family as much would be one of them, but of course I would have to move out one day, so it was bound to happen eventually.

Not seeing Paul everyday would definitely be strange, and in the last month I've learned that such a thing would definitely have a major toll on me, and the more I thought about leaving not just La Push, but Paul as well, hit something deep inside me that almost made me feel sick at the thought.

I hadn't the clue of what Paul planned to do after school – that is if he graduates. He hasn't been to a single class in a month, so his average grades were undoubtfully pretty bad at the moment. What's worse is that if things didn't work out with this girl he likes, what would Paul do?

"Hey um…" I spoke up, catching his attention. "What do you plan to do after school?"

Paul gaze remained on the road as his face scrunched up. It looked as if the question had hit some sort of nerve. "I don't know." He said honestly, only to quickly pick himself up as he looked to me, giving a warm smile. "Probably follow you wherever you're headed."

I stared at him in surprise. "Oh yeah?" I tested. "What if I plan to take flight to Antarctica. Would you be able to handle the cold?"

"Please." He brushed me off. His hand then shot out for mine, swiftly grabbing it, giving me a challenged look. "I'll be fine."

I instantly felt the warmth he gave off, and once again felt stunned as to how intense it was. My brow furrowed as I questioned how it was still possible after all this time for him to be radiating this heat.

"Hey, you're just as warm as you were when you got sick last month… how's that possible?"

He seemed to shrug the question off.

"It's a me thing." He said casually, before giving yet another smile.

It wasn't really the answer I was looking for, but I dropped it.

Minutes seemed to pass by until I realised Paul was still holding onto my hand, his fingers tightly laced into mine. He didn't notice, as his face indicated that he was in some sort of trance.

"Paul?" I gave him a look.

He seemed to stare at me for a moment, only to quickly remember what he was doing and harshly snatched his hand away.

It didn't seem like a big deal, but I felt a lingering sense of awkwardness in the atmosphere.

The ride to Port Angeles seemed surprisingly short, as Paul kept up the conversation, asking me all these questions on what I had been doing the past month.

"So Angela Weber… she's the tall girl who is friends with the leach lo-" He paused. "Friends with Bella Swan, correct?"

My eyes narrowed at him. "Uh, I don't exactly know who Bella Swan is, but yeah she is tall."

"And Ben Cheney is the boy I um…" He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence from embarrassment.

"Yeah, that guy." I chuckled, only to then sigh. "I'm glad I'm friends with them, and not just because they're my only friends. They helped me out when I was kind of a loner during school. They're very nice people." I felt myself smile purely from memories of the positivity both Angela and Ben seemed to always give out.

"You wouldn't have had to be alone if I hadn't have been such a monster…" His face made him look like he was in physical pain.

"No Paul, It's okay now." I reassured him. "We're back together and that's what matters."

The boy seemed to have more to say, but never spoke afterwards.

We had soon reached Port Angeles. The city was as big as I remembered, and I found myself admiring how urban it all was – the complete opposite of the reservation.

We drove down streets up on streets as we searched for the fast food chain that seemed to be hiding away from us.

"You spot it yet?" Paul asked.

"Nada." I replied, eyeing each individual building with intense focus.

One building in particular caught my eye. It was off to the side – almost hidden away from the world. The Thunderbird & Whale Bookstore.

I quickly remembered that the book I desired had made a sudden disappearance. I was definitely going to stop by there, and if I was lucky, maybe they might have the book in stock.

"Oh!" I heard Paul exclaim, pointing to something in the distance.

It wasn't hard to see what he had spotted, as there was a sign with a gigantic 'M'.

"Juicy burger, here I come." Paul licked his lips in anticipation. I only laughed at his eagerness.

I hadn't expected there to be so many people there. The parking lot was practically three-fourth's full, which in itself was strange considering it was closing in on six pm. We both stepped out of the truck, making our way to the front doors. As we stepped in, we had quickly noticed that the place was packed on the inside too.

"Oh, man. We drove all the way down here just to have to wait in line for half an hour." Paul grumbled.

"Don't worry, you'll get your 'juicy burger'." I smiled.

"A juicy burger…" He trailed off. "One with bacon and cheese… lots and lots of cheese." He was practically drooling as we stepped in line.

"Easy there, Urkel. You'll get all the cheese you want soon, just be patient."

He rolled his eyes, chuckling at the comment.

After a moment, my mind began to wander back to the bookstore I had spotted earlier. By the time we're done eating, it'll be getting close to seven, so there probably wont be time to stop by.

An idea popped into my head, and I turned to Paul.

"Hey, there's a book store just a few blocks from here, and I've been meaning to get some new books. Do you mind?" I asked.

"Oh… uh sure, we can come back when the place isn't as packed." He said.

"No, I wouldn't want to make you wait longer. I can go by myself, really. I'll be back in fifteen minutes tops. Just order me whatever you're having."

He seemed hesitant. "…Okay. Just be quick okay."

"Promise." I gave him a thumbs up along with a wink, to which I swiftly turned on my heels and started walking out.

"And be careful of strangers!" He shouted out like a worried mother.

The streets weren't too crowded as I made my way to my destination. A chilly breeze blew straight past me, an I felt myself shiver in response; zipping up my coat immediately.

A few blocks soon turned into a lot, until finally I spotted the place I was searching for.

The building had resembled a shack-like appearance, giving it a more welcoming and less intimidating vibe compared to the others around it. I walked up the green wooden steps, each one slightly squeaking. As my hand reached for the door, I opened it; hearing a bell chime above me as I entered.

The first thing I spotted was a man behind the counter. He resembled myself, with his russet skin and black hair, but was broader built and a lot more masculine.

"Good evening." He politely nodded his head, to which I mimicked the greeting.

I walked through rows and rows of book shelves, only to find that I soon had made a full lap, to which I quickly re-searched everything, only to come up short.

Sighing, I made my way back to the front counter.

"Excuse me," I asked the man. He looked up from the computer screen next to him.

"Yes?"

"Do you perhaps have a book called Quileute Legends in stock?"

The man's face seemed to scrunch up, trying to think of what to say. "Hold on just a second." He said, before turning back to the computer to type in something. Once he found what he had been searching for, he turned back to me with an apologetic face. "Sorry, it seems that the last one we had in stock was sold about a year ago."

"Ahh…" I felt myself slouch a bit in disappointment.

"Is there anything else I can help with?"

"Oh, no thank you, I'm fine." I assured him.

Since I was already here, I might as well get some books anyways, even if they weren't what I was looking for.

In the end I had picked out Frankenstein and Dracula. I always had a thing for books on monsters – especially the classics – as they always seemed to peek my interests.

As the man checked them out, he put them in a bag and passed it over to me. I murmured a thank you and goodbye before exiting back out the doors, but not before checking the clock on the wall, seeing that thirty minutes had already passed.

"Shit." I said to myself, as I began to speed walk down the alleyways.

Paul was probably worried sick.

I entered back out onto the sidewalk, which had seemed to be less populated than before, as there were only the scattered few walking.

As I passed by an open door, I glanced in to see that it was a pub – one that was heavily packed. People were dancing in an erotic manner, grinding up on each other to the sound of up beat music.

"Something wrong, kid?" A scratchy voice said, and I jumped in surprise, seeing a man leaning by the doorway with two others, giving me strange looks. They were all wearing leather jackets along with jeans that seemed to be a tad snug. They all were intimidating, but the man in the doorframe was most frightening, as his head was shaved with tattoos all up his neck.

Probably some biker gang.

"N-no." I stuttered out. "No problem."

I turned away and began walking again, only to soon hear heavy clicks of boots following close behind. I felt myself unconsciously start to walk faster, only to hear murmurs, to which the clicking noise sped up. My eyes were glued to the ground as I clutched the plastic bag containing my books to my chest.

I then hit something hard.

I staggered back, looking up to see a face – one in which I hadn't yet seen. They wore the same biker gear as the others did.

"Whoa, watch where you're going, man." He spoke, his face full of irritation.

"S-sorry…" My voice came out shaky.

"Ah, Wilson, I've see you've met our little buddy." Another voice said.

I whipped my head around, seeing the three men from the bar all standing there, each with a look that made my stomach drop.

"The little punk was planning on sneaking into a bar." The man with the tattoos spoke, chuckling.

"Ah, some under-age drinking, I see…" The man named Wilson gave me a smirk.

He then rapidly started to approach. I felt myself quickly backing up defensively, only to knock into the tattooed man. In an instant, he took me from behind, roughly grabbing my arms and shoving me into the ground.

I felt myself hit the side of a wall with a thud, only to quickly look up at the men. They all towered over me, a different yet equally vile expression written on each of their faces.

I was in danger, and I hadn't the clue what to do. That in itself made me frightened beyond belief.

Wilson was about to speak up, only to be cut off by what almost sounded like a bang.

"HEY!" A voice snarled. I looked to my left, my eyes rapidly focusing in on the figure standing there.

Paul was staring at the men, a look of repugnance etched deeply into him. His eyes were graphically wide, as his body was violently shaking. That time in the cafeteria did not even compare to the visual playing out in front of me.

He seemed like he was ready to kill.

He made his move, and before my eyes could react as to what was happening, Paul was in front of Wilson, his fist colliding with the man's face, making a cracking noise. Wilson fell to the ground, knocked out.

One of the other guys stepped up, blade in hand and ready to attack. He flung himself at Paul, and I felt myself shout out in fear.

"Paul!" I cried.

But paul simply wrapped his hand around the blade, only to flick his wrist down, snapping it off without trouble. He flung the metal away, to which he turned his attention back to the man, who in rapid motion, spun on his heels and bolted – the other man quickly following behind, leaving the tattooed man standing there, defenseless. His mouth was hung open, shaking in fear from the beast before him.

Paul's hands shot out, clenching around the man's throat. He slowly lifted the man off the ground; the man quickly reacting, grasping his hands onto Paul's wrists. Moments seemed to pass by as I laid on the ground, horrified as to what I was witnessing

Choking sounds met my ears as I saw the man tightly clenching his hands, trying his hardest to breath, only to fail as Paul's grip got tighter and tighter.

I need to calm him.

"P-paul!" I yelled, but he didn't seem to hear me; his eyes pitch-black and completely focused into the man's, watching as the life drained from him. "Paul, you're killing him!" I yelled again, but my voice wouldn't reach him.

I had to do something – anything to stop him from murdering the guy.

I felt myself jump up from the concrete ground, stumbling over, ducking under one of Paul's arms and shooting my head up through the gap to face the boy. My hands found my way to each side of his face as I stared straight into his eyes.

"Paul, p-please stop." I whimpered, tears now streaming down my face in a steady flow. His glare focused on me, and his face went neutral. "Please…" I begged. "Stop it."

There were seconds of dead silence, until I heard a thud, and my head whipped around to see the tattooed man on the ground, his hands around his neck, coughing and gasping for air. Looking back, I was met with a face of horror. I gazed into Paul's scared eyes.

His hands slowly drifted downwards, his hands taking up mine.

"Paul?" I asked, but he simply closed his eyes, his grip on my hands tightening and he slowly moved his head inward, leaning his forehead against mine.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I only wanted to protect you."

I felt myself slowly but surely start to calm as we stood there, faces inches apart. I waited for his eyes to open but the never did.

We both remained silent, until Paul leaned back away, letting go of one of my hands and began walking forward, hauling me in tow.

"W-wait, my books!" I remembered, looking back to the bag on the sidewalk. Paul turned around and we staggered back; he then snatching it up.

We continued back on track; Paul staring straight ahead as we walked, neither of us speaking.

The new moon refused to illuminate light onto the shadowed paths around us, but Paul's hand was tightly laced into mine, never letting go, so I didn't feel one bit scared.