A/N: I hate when authors repeat a chapter in other characters' point of view, unless it's really good and we need to understand what's going on inside their heads. So I think, in order to set the stage, I have to do that. Just hang in there, it's important for the story:)

I disclaim, by the way.

Kim's ring tone is Distraction by Angels & Airwaves

"And when the sky is falling, don't look outside the window." -The All-American Rejects, Change Your Mind

KPOV

I was dreaming, I knew it, but it was a nice dream so I stayed where I was. Jared and I were walking hand in hand along First Beach, just walking. He would smile down at me or he would squeeze my hand every so often. That's all, we just walked. Sometimes I would pick up a nice rock or a piece of beach glass but other than that, it was just the two of us walking lazily on the beach. It was blurry, I couldn't see where on the beach we were or hear anything except the lapping waves which were only so clear because my mind was pulling them from experience. It was nice though, having some type of human contact. It was peaceful, even if only for a few hours unconsciously.

"I'll be your distraction; I'll be your distraction. There's a film nearby, the words written in stone..." my phone blared from the bedside table. I groaned loudly before pulling the covers off of my body. I knew that once I was just a little cold there would be some incentive to get into the warm shower. I had exactly five minutes to lie in my bed before I would have to get up. It was 4:30... on a Monday. Shoot. Me. Now.

I heaved myself out of bed and stretched out my back, flexing and contracting my muscles. My body was not happy to be so abruptly awakened. I yawned a few times before walking into the hallway and into the bathroom. I turned the shower on hot and slipped out of my clothes, turning them right-side out and tossing them into the hamper. I absolutely hate Mondays. It was my day off at the barn but I did the bills on Mondays on top of whatever homework I had, so there was really no 'day off' so to speak. I washed quickly and stepped out, going as fast as I could, trying to keep myself awake and on task. I dressed in a lavender long-sleeved shirt, skinny jeans and a pair of black converse. I added a small white vest because it was getting colder. I blew my hair out quickly, adding some no-frizz serum because God knows the air is always saturated in La Push. I brushed on some light make-up; nothing too over the top, always moderate, as per usual.

It was 5:10 now, right on schedule. Like always. I crept down the stairs, not that there was anyone in the house but it was early in the morning and It just feels like you shouldn't make a lot of noise. I turned the TV on, just something for background, and made myself a bowl of cereal; Raisin Bran with skim milk and a glass of orange juice. Exciting, I know. I grabbed my laptop from the counter and checked my e-mail while I ate. There was a message from my dad,

Hey Kiddo,

I missed your schedule for this week. Did you forget to send it, or did it get lost? Write me back later and tell me what's going on.

Love you,

Dad

God, my dad was oblivious. He worked hard so that he could live in Seattle and I could stay in La Push but the man had no idea what was going on. He was lucky I am the way I am... I eat freaking Raisin Bran for breakfast, and do the bills on Monday's, and I turn my clothes right-side out before I throw them in the hamper... I was sixteen going on, like, forty. Like I said, my dad is a lucky man. He works in Seattle for some big firm that I don't care to remember the name of. He used to work from home but my mom died three years ago and he couldn't handle being in the same house. I refused to move to Seattle with him; this house reminded me of Mom and if he couldn't handle it, then he could move by himself. I was a very stubborn thirteen-year-old... I'm a very stubborn sixteen-year-old. Dad was too tired and sad to argue so I stayed in La Push and he moved to Seattle. No one knew, we lived on the outskirts of town and Dad made a very generous donation to the council every year so no one said anything. I've been living by myself for three years and no one needs to know. I'm just fine.

My mom died three years ago of Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia. She was diagnosed on April 9th and passed on the 30th. It was a hard blow but my rational self reasoned that people die, whether it was of old age, a heart attack, or Leukemia; our bodies only have so much time. I missed my mom like crazy, don't get me wrong, and I think about her everyday, I just find it easier to ignore it and not let anyone see how it affected me. I wasn't very open about it, I went back to school on Monday and when people said they were sorry for my loss, I smiled and said 'thank you'. No one pitied me anymore, which I was thankful for. No one whispered about why I was so quiet or why I had turned every boy down (nine in total) when they asked me to the Eighth Grade Dance; they just accepted the way I was and forgot about me the next year when the news hit that Tammy Forrest had given Evan Woods a blow job. That's the way High School is.

I e-mailed my Dad back telling him that my schedule must have gotten lost, since I never forgot to send it to him, and that I would re-send it. I asked how his new case was going and how Uncle George was etc. That was the way Dad and I talked... via e-mail. He drove up to La Push every other Sunday to have dinner with me and talk about my plans for the next week (not that he would listen because I sent him a written copy) and he would come down to the barn for fifteen minutes and see the horses he bought me. And then he would leave. I e-mailed him on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. That was it. It was easier that way. We were polite but didn't make small talk. He knew I was responsible, I have never betrayed that trust, and in turn he lets me take care of myself.

I still can't tell if it's a blessing or a sacrifice on my end, though. I'm horrible at socializing, I like to keep to myself and I'm a neat freak, so on one hand it's relieving to live in my own house and have everything the way I like it. But I don't have anybody here when I need to talk. I haven't cried in my dad's arms since my mom died. I haven't had a real hug in a very long time. I'm cold almost all of the time. I haven't had to be anyone but myself, though. Just me, I don't have to come home and keep pretending that I'm happy, like I did at school; like I did when my Dad came every other Sunday for dinner.

It was 5:45, now, and I had about an hour to do anything I forgot to or didn't feel like doing last night. I finished an AP Chem. Lab that wasn't due until next week, downloaded a few new songs, re-organized the silverware drawer, added milk and OJ to the grocery list, threw the clothes that were in the washing machine into the dryer, and did a few pages of my AP US History review book. I shut all the lights off and double checked the doors, the stove, and any other electrical/gas appliance that could destroy my house.

The last thing I always did in the mornings was go up to Mom's studio. She was a painter; an excellent artist. I opened the white washed door and slipped inside. I kept this room immaculate, never moving anything from its place. The pallet that she last used had dried paint on it and the canvas she was painting on was only half-finished on the easel. I inhaled once and shut the door. It still smelled like her, even after all this time. I knew it was my imagination, but if I could still smell her, just in that one small room, it gave me a little peace of mind.

I ran out of the house and into my truck, my baby. My dad had bought it for me right after my sixteenth birthday, a Black Ford F-350 with a black interior. I christened her The Beast. And a beast she was, she could make it through any type of weather and could pull a six-horse trailer no-problem.

I drove down my long driveway and onto the street my best friend, Mina Weller, lived on. Our mothers had met at an art convention in Tacoma and hit it off. They were surprised when they were from the same rez. My mom had grown up in Olympia but was a full-blooded Quileute. She went to college at University of Washington, Seattle where she met my dad who was studying Law. They met, badabing-badaboom, married, pregnant, and then me. My Dad was part Quileute and part Irish but they were allowed to move into the house that my great-grandmother had willed my mother anyway. Tom and Annette Weller moved in after Mrs. Weller met my mother at the convention, wanting to return to her ancestors from Portland. Mina and I have been best friends ever since. Our mothers took us horseback riding at the local farm and we never looked back. Mina was the one who knew the most about me, and I was the one who knew the most about her. We fit together like two puzzle pieces.

Mina was waiting for me at the door and sprinted into the drizzle when she saw me in the driveway. "Hey," she said, breathlessly, "You won't believe what happened Saturday night. I mean, really Kim, it's going to blow your mind. So you know how Mike Nocero was going out with Nina Foster?" I shook my head 'yes' even though I really didn't, "Well I saw him making out with Mel Lowes and..." I tuned her out after that, not that I didn't care that she had to say, but Mina was friends with everybody in school, even though I was her best friend. Mina was the type of person who you really wanted to know, bubbly and happy, always offering a helping hand. She was cute and small, spunky and funny, and ridiculously nice. I don't know how we've stayed together all of this time but we have, like glue.

Mina babbled on for a few more minutes before we made it into the parking lot. She jumped out and walked with me to my locker and then we hit hers, still talking the whole time.

I couldn't help but glance discreetly at Jared's locker as we passed it. I knew he had first period free, like me, but I thought since he's been absent for almost three weeks that when he did show up, he would want to use his free time to find his missing work. I knew his schedule well, it was almost the same as mine. I knew he had been absent for a really long time and I kind of missed him. He had a great personality, even when it was clouded by his friends' stupidity. He's extremely athletic, constantly covering the pages of the school paper. I thought he was the best looking out of the entire school, even when he woke up late and didn't have time to do anything special with his hair.

Mina knew about my little crush on him... to an extent. She didn't realize I had his name all over my journal. Mrs. Kimberly Taylor. I like the way it sounded. He was the one who I always envisioned my self with. Maybe we would go to the same college and he'd have no one who knew him except for me and then we'd fall in love because he was so used to being with all of his friends that he needed someone to understand him. Or maybe we would meet up after college and just hit it off. Maybe he would come back to school tomorrow and finally realize that I've been sitting behind him in almost every class we have together. Too many maybes for my liking.

It was just a fantasy. Not even really; he was just the face and the body. I made up the conversations between us and the wedding and our children. He was the one I dreamed about. I considered it my one immaturity besides my stubbornness. Having a full out crush on someone who I've barely said more than ten words to. I knew the exact moment it started, too.

There was black everywhere; my mother would have hated it. She lay there; asleep it looked like, in her casket. She was gaunt and fragile looking. Nothing like the mother I had known, strong, beautiful, and fearless. Nearly everyone on the reservation had come, even some of the kids in my school with their parents. We had the ceremony at our house in the back garden, a place where Mom would have chosen. She was in a cream silk evening dress that made her skin glow like she was still alive. Her thick black hair was done in curled ringlets, parted to the side. Her makeup was light, just how she would have wanted it, I made sure of it. Dad was next to me, and then Uncle George, Aunt Tory, and Lily, my cousin. That was all of the family I had. No grandparents, no other Aunts or Uncles in the state.

I was standing by her head and shaking people's hands that came by, saying 'Thank you for coming'. Jared's mom, Mrs. Hall-Taylor, whom I just called Mrs. Taylor, had worked with my mother and Mrs. Weller at the little Art gallery on the weekends in Forks. It seemed that everyone who was at the funeral had known my Mother in some way. It was hard not to know her, she was a social butterfly, so unlike myself. Mrs. Taylor shook my hand and pulled me for a small hug. I said 'Thank you for coming' and she squeezed my shoulder. Instead of smiling sadly at me like the other kids who had come with their parents, most likely forced, Jared pulled me into a bone crushing hug and kissed me on the cheek before following his mother.

He didn't know me that well, we had only seen each other a few times outside of school when our mothers brought us to the shop for the day, but he had hugged me so tight that even when he walked away, it felt like he had pulled me together with superglue and set me to dry. I was shocked by his level of compassion that it made my heart hurt even worse than it was. I almost lost my composure at his sincerity. Jared had a place in my heart from that moment on.

I dreamed about that moment often, trying to get back some of the heat of Jared's arms. It worked sometimes. It made me dream of happy moments, like the one last night on the beach, instead of just memories and images thrown together. When I thought the sky was falling on me, I would think of Jared and how well he held it together. I tried to imitate his cool demeanor though I didn't have his natural charm or charisma. I tried to be the type of girl he would want to be, just so I could relive that moment when he hugged me and I felt warm, without changing myself. I wished he would think about that moment once and come into school the next day and ask me how I was doing. I wish the hug had meant something more to him than just a one time hug at my mother's funeral.

Before I knew it, I was in AP Chem. with Mrs. Atera fifteen minutes early, asking her some questions. She was a great teacher, always helpful and available for anything I needed. Sometimes she would look at me pityingly when she thought I wasn't looking, but I overlooked it because she was a nice lady.

"... Yes, see, so you have to make sure all of the charges add up so that the equation is neutral, understand?" She finished explaining.

"Yes, thank you." I smiled up at her.

"Good." She smiled back.

I finished putting my books away and raised my head when the bell rang only to be met with a huge figure in front of me. That seat, and the one in front of it, had been vacant for the past two weeks. I could tell by the birthmark right under Jared's right ear that it was him. He had grown at least a foot and I could see through his shirt the shoulder muscles. He was huge. I could barely see over his head. He had his eyes shut and was breathing heavily. Paul was doing the same in front of him. I went to the front of the room, taking the long way so I could see their faces, and almost gasped at the change in their expression. They looked ten years older and even more impossibly gorgeous than they had. "Welcome Back Mr. Taylor and Mr. Rivers. You have much to catch up on, see me after class, please," Mrs. Atera started class. Jared nodded his head. How was I supposed to concentrate on electrochemistry with Jared sitting right in front of me in all of his newly acquired beauty? It was going to be a long double period.

I barely made it through the rest of the day. Hearing Mina babble about how gorgeous Paul was at lunch was tough. I tried to stare discreetly at them from a few tables down. I was sitting with Mina and the rest of her crew on the end of the table. Paul and Jared usually sat near the other end with their jock friends but they were alone today. Jared's face switched from angry to sad and back while Paul shoved as much food down his throat as possible. Jared ate nothing. I wanted him to smile, eat, drink, do something. I tried to look away, tried to pay attention to Mina talking and what everyone else was saying but I just couldn't observe Jared for a few minutes and then throw him to the back of my head like I used to.

Thank God I had a few classes without him; he was becoming a serious distraction. I didn't see him for the next few periods; he had free sixth, I had Studio Art III. I had Italian seventh, he had Spanish. We had psychology and AP US History together at the end of the day but I had Mina in those classes as well.

I finished lunch and headed to Art. I was working on an oil pastel piece for my mother. It was from a picture taken a while ago. She was sitting in the living room on her favorite couch, a book in hand. I wanted to portray all that was her in this piece- I wanted to feel her vibe coming off of this picture in waves. The art teacher, Mrs. Sanders, almost cried when she came in on an early Monday morning to see me perched at a table working on the canvas feverishly. I told her I didn't want anyone to see and she set me up in the back room to work on it. Mina hadn't even seen it. Mrs. Sanders hasn't looked at it since I had shown her just the picture that Monday morning a couple of weeks ago.

I was just finishing the negative space around the couch, a mixture of the dark hardwood floors and light sage walls. I was taking my time. I wanted this to be perfect. I didn't know what I was going to do with it when I was finished, but I wanted to have something that really said Mom to me. Like her studio, like her favorite coffee mug, like her clothes that still remain in the dresser in the master bedroom. I went in there sometimes just to look at her beautiful dresses and shoes.

The bell rang and I covered the canvas with a piece of tarp and made my way to Italian. I don't know why I took the class. I wanted to visit Italy but by the time I probably get there, I won't remember a word. I passed Jared in the hall but refused to look at him. I was not going to let his sudden appearance as a Native American Adonis change what he was to me: a face, someone to picture myself with, someone to imagine as a security blanket because I was currently without. I concentrated hard on conjugating irregular verbs into the present indicative and finishing my homework on double time.

The bell rang again and I hurried off to AP US History, my last class, with Jared. Mina would meet me here in a minute and I had no doubt that she had even more gossip about Paul and Jared. I walked into the classroom and smiled at Mr. Kelly, who smiled back, clearly excited to be teaching us today. He was a cheerful one, that one. I looked over to the table that Mina and I shared to see Jared and Paul sitting there. Both had his head buried in his arms atop the table. Why was he sitting here, for the love of all that is holy? Do the great Gods want me to fail out of school with these stupid seating arrangements? I walked over to the table, and put my books down roughly as I glared at the wood in front of me, mentally cursing Jared. I was not leaving my table because Jared and Paul had been kicked out of theirs. Mina wasn't paying attention as she walked in and started talking to me immediately.

"So I just talked to Monica and Louisa just texted me and asked if I could ride Orion but I already have Mac and Ace to ride on top of whatever three school horses Monica wants me to ride and I have a Psych test tomorrow that I really need to study for-"

"Yes, Mina, I can ride Orion and whoever else you need me to." I smiled at her. That girl had too much on her plate. It meant more ride time for me, though, so I'm not complaining. Mina plopped her bags down in front of Paul who proceeded to curl his hands into fists, obviously upset about the loud interruption of his thoughts, not that Mina meant to do it. I saw Jared squeeze Paul's shoulder and Paul immediately relaxed. Mina looked at the table now, her eyes landing on Paul, then Jared, and then me. I shrugged, not knowing why they were there either. I turned around then, facing Jared, who looked like he just got slapped in the face. He snapped out of it quickly though.

"Hey, sorry we hijacked your table but we've been shunned from ours." He said, nodding toward his former table. He sounded genuinely sorry, why I wasn't sure, but he honestly seemed apologetic. I decided to be agreeable "Oh, no, it's okay; we'll just go sit at the other one." I didn't even get a chance to pick my books back up before he very nearly shouted, "Wait! No! Stay here, this is Paul."

"Yeah, sorry. Like he said, we've been shunned. We don't want you to leave, though," Paul said smiling at Mina. I could already tell what was going on inside o Mina's head- the epitome of sa-woon. She was keeping it cool on the outside though as she raised an eyebrow at the exact same time I did. We couldn't have planned that one if we wanted to.

"Yeah, sit, sit. I don't think he has any work planned for us anyway." Jared said, referring to Mr. Kelly. I looked at Mina and she nodded eagerly. "Alright," I said a little hesitantly.

"So, are you going to tell us why you were shunned?" I asked, trying to make conversation as I sat down next to Jared.

"Because we're not playing football next year and I quit lacrosse so everyone hates us now," he said a little sadly.

"Oh... well... aren't you guys a big deal on the football team?"

"We were," Paul answered sourly.

"I see. Well, they're stupid and are just pissed because you won't be there to save their asses at counties next year," I said confidently, smiling at them both.

"Damn straight," Paul answered and Mina and I laughed.

I felt at ease with Jared and Paul. Mina was openly flirting with Paul but Jared and I just rolled our eyes, smiling. I could get used this. I had wanted something like it for so long, it almost seemed unreal. My dream Jared seemed to be modeled after the real thing, which got me hoping beyond hope. I was going to dream again tonight. I was going to dream of Jared's smile, and his eyes, and his hair, and his charming tales of football pranks. This was not good for my heart. This was just a coincidence that my ideal guy was a carbon-copy of Jared. I was hoping, against my own advice- against my own will, really- that Jared was really what he seemed to be today... perfect.

A/N: Okay, I got a little messed up with the school schedules. Jared and Kim are supposed to have almost the whole day together:

per.1- Free

per.2- AP Chemistry

per.3- Lab/Gym

per.4-Jared English, Kim AP lang.

per.5- Lunch

per.6- Jared Free, Kim Art

per.7- Psychology

per.8- AP US History