"Lex, I really don't think you should be driving-" I began, only to get cut off.

"Not this lecture again!" She whined. "I can drive perfectly fine, mother."

Fine my arse.

I pursed my lips together, but decided not to say anymore about the matter. Truth be told, Lexi had enough trouble driving in the first place because of her height... or lack of it.. She always had to lean forward in her seat – despite it being as far forward as humanly possible – to even reach the brake and accelerator.

It wasn't like Lexi had a clean record with her driving, either. I shuddered every time I remembered when she ran over my mailbox and got away scott-free, whilst I had to deal with my parent's wrath. Add a badly bruised hand to the mix, and you could see why I'm concerned for my safety... and hers... and the new mailbox...

"So..." Lexi started to say as she continued her attempt to drive one-handed into my driveway. It wasn't going so well, and I had a sneaky suspicion that she may hit something soon if I allowed her to drive like this any longer.

Too bad she didn't listen to me. I watched her carefully, just in case she did drive into my mailbox again, so I could prepare to duck, roll and run like the wind before my parents found out.

"Paul wasn't at school again today." She informed me, her dark eyes questioning as she finally settled on parking the car by the curb.

"I've noticed," I replied dryly, though I couldn't stop the smile spreading across my face.

We had been avoiding the topic of Paul since the situation in the cafeteria, but his mysterious disappearance had finally proven to be too hard to ignore.

Everyone had checked to see if Paul was at school today. And he wasn't, just like the last few weeks. Maybe he had died or something...?

Hallelujah! Ding-dong the witch is dead! Which old witch? The wicked witch! Ding-dong the wicked witch is dead...!

"I wonder when he'll get back," Lexi pondered. "I've got a score to settle with that bi-atch." She announced dramatically, waving her bandaged hand around.

I couldn't help but laugh at that one. "Lex, you hurt your hand trying to settle a score with Paul, remember?"

She scowled. "What do you mean, I hurt my hand? It was Paul's fault! He is responsible for my injury, not me!"

I just grinned. "You want to know what Ithink? I think someone tried to punch someone with their thumb tucked inside their fist."

Lexi banged her injured hand on the steering wheel, causing her wince. "I did not tuck my thumb into my fist! Paul has a head like a freaking rock, I'm telling you! But it's really no surprise I guess, because his head sure is full of 'em."

I laughed harder and shook my head at her in mock disbelief. "You sure have thought about this a lot, huh Lexi? Why, you've become so obsessed you wonder what his head is full of? You're going to become a brilliant little stalker." I teased, knowing that she wouldn't like this. After all, Lexi hated Paul. Not as much as I did, but she hated him nonetheless.

"Okay, that's it. Get out of my car!" She shouted as she leant across me to open my door and push me out. For someone as small as she was, she was definitely stronger than she looked (except when it came to punching Paul, obviously).

Luckily I landed on a patch of wet grass, although this probably meant I now had mud all over my jeans. "Ha!" Lexi yelled triumphantly, before slamming the door closed, waving cheekily, and driving away.

I waited until my laughs wore off before attempting to stand, knowing that I'd probably fall over if I didn't. I was walking toward my house when I began thinking about Paul.

It had been two weeks since the incident in the cafeteria, and since then Paul hadn't be seen. And, damn, it had been the best two weeks of my life in a long time. Without Paul, his friends were hopeless and lost. They didn't bother anyone, least of all me, and I couldn't help but question if it was because they couldn't be bothered or if without Paul to watch them taunt someone, there was no one worthwhile to impress.

I wasn't complaining, though.

However something else that was strange was that I haven't seen Jared for a week. Granted, I didn't see him that often outside of school, but I saw him enough around the house to know he hadn't been home in several days.

Sam Uley came over during the few days Jared was gone to talk privately with mom and dad, and I couldn't help but wonder if his unexpected visit meant that he knew where Jared was. I'd heard things about Sam Uley, like he was on steroids and that he hadn't gone to college, despite getting offers from amazing schools. I tended to dismiss those rumours tough, considering he comes across as a rather strict and no-nonsense sort of person… definitely not drug-lord material.

Hmmm, I dunno. He definitely has some sort of mafia-boss vibe to him, I'm tellin' ya.

Although after his visit, I noticed mom and dad didn't worry about Jared. They just pretended like nothing had changed and everything was normal. The only time they mentioned him was when Marley asked them where he was. They just told her that he was on an extended field trip with his history class.

I didn't bother to tell them that I was in the same history class as Jared.

. . .

I flicked absentmindedly through TV channels. I was bored. Downright bored.

Mom, dad and Marley had left the house to spend the night at my Aunt Marissa's, so I was left alone for the night as I was forbidden from Marissa's house.

Marissa was that annoying type of relative whom had no children of her own yet felt entitled to ownership over the ones in her extended family. She demanded frequent visits from my parents, and had guilt-tripped them, on more than one occasion, to spend a few days at her house in her guest rooms.

Marissa was dad's older sister, and he always felt guilty that she was the one that cared for their parents in their final years whilst he was spending time with us, his own family. Marissa complained she never had this luxury to build a family of her own because she was too busy being a caregiver, but I thought her terrible and narcissistic personality is more likely to blame.

This meant that he always went along with her crazy requests and had no problem spending most of his spare time at her house. Mom was happy go wherever dad goes, so she had no problem with the arrangement.

I had been excluded from such activities due to Marissa's ongoing grudge aimed toward me.

It started when I was born and vomited on her, followed by when I was five and tracked mud on her floors. The final straw for her was last year, when I skipped one of her visits for Lexi's birthday. I was now deemed as an ungrateful, selfish child in her eyes and 'will not be receiving a cent of her inheritance'. I wasn't the only one who had been out-casted though; Jared had been excluded from the visits since middle school, during his immature pranking phase.

Apparently Marissa didn't appreciate coming back to sit on whoopee cushions whenever she returned from the kitchen or bathroom.

If Jared were here, he'd probably seize his chance and throw one of his frequent rager house parties that I had grown to hate. But at least if there were a party, I wouldn't be dying a slow death from boredom.

After flicking through the complete set of channels for a fourth time, I sighed and decided to have an early night.

Wow, you're exciting.

"Shut up." I tell myself tiredly as I climbed the staircase and walked to my room.

Make me.

I frowned and jumped under the blankets, pulling the covers over my head and cursing that little voice in my head.

...

I shot up in bed, sweating like crazy.

I looked around my room, squinting my eyes to make out the familiar shapes of my desk and bookcase in the dark. I finally groaned and fell back on my bed, pulling a pillow over my head.

"Only a dream. Only a dream." I mumbled incoherently into my pillow. But it had been one scary dream. I didn't even remember all of it, but I knew it was terrifying. I had been running in the hail and rain through a forest, just like the one that surrounded La Push and Forks. But I didn't know why I was running – all I could feel was the overwhelming emotions of panic and fear.

I pushed the pillow off my head and sighed, reaching over to my bedside table to check the time on my phone. 1:27 a.m. As if I was going to get to sleep after that dream.

I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the pounding rain outside. The sound usually soothed me to sleep rather than kept me awake, but tonight it just reminded me too much of my dream.

I was still staring up at the ceiling when I heard it. The sound of the front door being opened slowly. I knew that it was that particular door because it was the only one in the house that made a very distinct creak when it opened. I tensed and held my breath, waiting for another sound. I really hoped that hearing the door open was only a result of my active imagination after my dream. I was sure I had locked it before I went to bed, so it must be my imagination. I was so sure...

But the unmistakeable noise of heavy footsteps downstairs proved otherwise. Since there was no sound of low conversation or Marley's jabbering, I knew it couldn't be my family choosing to come home early at this insane hour.

I sat up in my bed and leant forward slightly, as if this would help me hear better... please be my imagination...

"Remind me why we're here again?" A baritone voice whispered. I didn't imagine that.

Oh, crap! Robbers! Or serial killers! They're going to kill you, Aria! Why is the world so set on you dying? First Paul, now this!

Well if this is how I was going to die, I was not going to wait for them to find me. If I was going down, someone was coming down with me.

This is how people die in horror movies. You'd be the one that people yell at for being stupid.

I silently slid out of bed and reached forward in the darkness to feel under my bed. After a few seconds I found what I was looking for. The bat from my little league baseball days. I may not have been the best batter, but at least if I could hit someone with it, it would be sure to leave a mark.

I edged down the hallway quietly, pausing at the side of the staircase and waiting for my eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. Holding my breath, I was about to creep forward to the staircase when I heard another voice.

"Sam is going to kill me if I keep wrecking his clothes, so I have to get some of my own while they're not here," an equally deep, impatient voice responded to robber/murderer number 1. I frowned slightly. That voice sounded very familiar. And why were they wrecking clothes? Who's Sam? Could they mean Sam Uley...? Sam was a common name, though. And despite the mafia-boss vibe, he didn't seem like the type to actually associate with thieves or murderers... unless the rumours about him were true.

Who cares? There are TWO of them, and there may be more! We'll never make it out alive! Go back!

I ignored my inner voice, curiosity overtaking my fear.

I repeat: this is how people die in horror movies. This is a horror movie. You are going to die.

"I don't think you should worry. Emily can always buy him more and we all know Sam loves it when Emily shops for him..." Came the first voice, before they both broke off into loud laughter. I frowned. These guys must be very confident if they thought they could talk as loud as they were while robbing a house.

That's because they're males, Aria. Don't you know how big the male ego is? They think they can do anything.

"True that."

For a second I thought that someone must be reading my mind and agreeing with me, before I realised it was just the second guy agreeing with the first guy.

"But at least Sam isn't such a kiss-up to Emily in hope of getting more food." The familiar voice continued laughing. A loud thump followed his statement.

Then it clicked.

The reason I recognised the second guy's voice. It's because it was Jared's voice. Maybe it's deeper than before, but it was definitely his voice. I knew my twin's voice anywhere.

I dropped the bat that is poised in the air and ran to the top of the staircase, in full view of the living room. My mouth dropped at the silhouettes I saw in the darkness.

Two humongous are facing away from me, one who has the other in a headlock. I may as well call them giants because they were both insanely tall, putting my proud height of five foot six to shame. And just by looking at them I could already tell that their biceps were probably bigger than my head.

For a second, I wondered if I'd gotten it wrong when I thought it was Jared. Because Jared barely passed the six foot mark, and although there was no way anyone would describe him as scrawny, he had quite a lean form - definitely nowhere near as big as these men.

He also didn't have hair like these men did, either. His hair wasn't as long as some of the other guys on the Rez, like Jacob Black or Seth Clearwater, but it had been shaggy, reaching his jaw. The hair on these guys was short and trimmed.

I decided the best thing I could do was stick around and see if it was, in fact Jared, and then lock myself in the bathroom and try to escape through the window if it wasn't.

That plan sounds absolutely perfect, except for the fact that the bathroom window is about as big as your hand!

I frowned and decided to just wing it instead. Maybe pick up the bat that was now abandoned somewhere in the hallway or grab a few vases and chuck them at their heads.

... Good enough.

Pleased that I had the approval of my inner voice, I began phase one of my plan.

Finding out if it was or was not Jared.

Seeing that the men had no desire to turn around from their wrestling match, I decided to try the simplest way to find out if it is him.

"Jared?" I called tentatively, walking down a couple of steps but not all the way down. The closer I was to the top of the stairs – and the baseball bat – the better. I leant backwards and reached for the light switch, causing the room to illuminate with light.

Both men froze and slowly turn around.

I focus on the taller and leaner one, and can't help but do a victory dance in my head. I was right. His face may look older and more matured than when I last saw him, and he may look like a bodybuilder or extreme gym junkie, but it was definitely Jared. Just Jared with abs.

Somebody's been taking steroids. My inner voice tittered in disapproval.

I focused on the other man, wondering why he too looked familiar. It was only when my eyes met his light brown ones do I finally recognise him. Because those eyes belong to the person I hate the most.

Paul Lahote.

Holy Shiitake mushrooms.

. . .

DUN DUN DUNNN! Sorry I had to leave it there. I wanted to write more, but I just love a good cliff hanger.

Quick question: I want to know if you guys want to see some chapters from Paul's POV... Do you?

Aria, Paul and Jared are currently 17 in this story, by the way, also meaning Lexi is 16.

Anyway about this chapter... if you like it, love it or hate it, remember to review. I would love to hear any feedback!