The weather La Push offered was nice, crisp, and chilly but not overwhelmingly so. It welcomed me, the breeze gently whirling through my messy, curly hair as it too hugged my body. Its nature was homey like Chesapeake but at the same time completely different, though I couldn't distinguish what exactly. The move became a dilemma that I was already struggling with. Being happy was difficult for me-due to the fact that I lived in a supermassive black hole for the past five years of my life. A greater dilemma than the first. I didn't know how to deal with my feelings yet, and I most definitely didn't want to drag anyone down with me.

I knew I had about ten seconds before my too excited Mother came looking for me, but I didn't care at this moment. Charlie's cruiser wasn't parked too far away from me, so I decided to hang back a bit before being overly welcomed by everyone. Laying on the hood of the car, I stared into the sky and decided to clear my mind of all things irritable.

I closed my eyes, letting the breeze caress my skin gently as I fell into, I guess what you'd call a conscious slumber. Inevitably, the first thing that came to mind had been the Cullen boy, Edward, which Mom mentioned. I didn't really want to think about him but I couldn't seem to get him out of my head. The funniest part about the whole ordeal was the simple fact that I hadn't a clue what the kid even looked like, but figured he must be pretty cute for Bells to fall for him.

I painted a portrait of a young man around eighteen years old with dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a breathtaking smile. His voice was as smooth as silk and was extremely charming. And he, of course, had pale skin-just like the other townspeople in Forks. A smile formed across my lips as I admired the picture I painted greatly. The thing I couldn't get my mind wrapped around was the disgust my Mom felt about him. Chesapeake had been her home for the past ten years-so what, from the other side of the United States-could have possibly set her off?

I shook my head in confusion and sat up on the hood. I furrowed my brows in thought of different possibilities as to why Billy and/or Charlie may feel about him but nothing came to me for Billy's reasoning. Charlie, on the drive here, mentioned something about Bella not being at home as much as she used to be, that she was constantly with Edward and Alice.

"She broke his heart," Charlie explained to my Mother, leaning in close so I couldn't hear, but I was too interested to not eavesdrop. "He took off for a while, wouldn't talk to anyone about it-not even to Billy. He's been home for about a month now-but you can still see that it's killing him." His tone ended the conversation. I knew, instantly, 'he' meant 'Jacob'.

Mom would be worried tonight. I could picture her glancing at Jacob every so often to try and read his expressions. Jacob was smart, I assumed anyhow, and would put on a façade to hide the painful tugging at his heart, but too knew that no one would be convinced that he was okay. It bothered me that Jacob was in pain. Being the too generous person that I am, I wanted to console Jacob, support him, and love him like a true friend would. I wanted to forget about all the excruciating pain that tore at my heart and repair his.

"It's a beautiful night out tonight, huh?" I heard suddenly. The voice was familiar and it put a smile on my face. "Welcome back, Chère," Sam called sweetly. His words made it feel like, Welcome Home.

My smile widened as I turned to him, admiring his sweet, gentle face-a face I could never forget. Though, the last time I saw him, he wasn't as tall as he is now. It seemed as though he were a whole foot taller than I-which, to me, is abnormally large. "Hey Sammy," I cooed.

"What are you still doing out here?" He asked with a slight chuckle following. He leaned on the cruiser, causing it to shift to the left a little.

"Admiring the silence," I told him honestly. It was more peaceful than Chesapeake, I admit, and the life which surrounded me was pleasing. "The weather is perfect, crickets singing, frogs croaking, and the trees dancing from side to side…it's beautiful out here."

Sam's smile widened as he turned away to admire the scenery I just described. "I told Nina I was worried you wouldn't like the constant rain and cold," he began and turned to me. "But I'm more than glad that you chose to come back."

I laughed a little and grabbed Sam's hand and gave it a squeeze. The heat which radiated off his skin and onto mine was unimaginable, almost fairytale-like. It was apparent to him that I'd noticed but I tried to not make a big cabaret about it. "Me too," I muttered softly and hung my head low for a mere moment before peering into his dark, yet sweet and gentle eyes. Though La Push's view was extravagant, part of me longed for my home in Chesapeake. The other part, the more adventurous part, wanted to wander around and explore forgotten memories from here.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, his voice full or curiosity and concern and grabbed my attention at once-pulling me away from my troubled thoughts.

I frowned, just a small change in the set of my mouth. Nothing too serious though. I could easily be frowning out of pure boredom. "I was thinking about Jake earlier," I told him suddenly, dodging his question. This too grabbed his attention as he seemed more interested about my sudden statement, rather than how I felt. His brows furrowed and he took a step closer toward me. Keeping silent, he let me continue. "Charlie mentioned him to Mom in the car; said 'she broke his heart'," I told him, putting the words in quotations of Charlie's dialogue. "What happened to 'em?"

He suppressed a sigh. He moved only his eyes, now set on a newer object. He hadn't wanted to answer me, I could tell, so I tried to change the question. "Alright…" I started, placing my hands in my lap and laced my fingers together. "Who's Edward?" I asked, raising my head toward the sky insufficiently. Sam met my fixated gaze and I could tell by his expression that the inquiry caught him off guard. He stared at me, mouth gaped open slightly, as if trying to read my mind or see through the façade.

"Edward Cullen is Bella's boyfriend," he told me, his voice calmer than the expression on his face. This had been the same words my mother spoke back in the car ride here. It was now my turn to read his expression.

I studied the look on Sam's face and noticed a few changes. His brows were pulled together slightly, and rather than his mouth being gaped open, his lips were pursed together.

"And?" I asked, tilting my head vaguely to the right.

"And we don't talk about him much," he told me, his tone firmer now. He too tilted his head to the right, mimicking me. "Really, we don't talk about him at all."

"Why?" I felt as if I was interrogating him. This time he sighed heavily in return. "Sam, you know I was friends with Bella. I'm back now…and if I want to rekindle said relationship with her, I'd like to get to know her boy-"

"What if I told you I'd rather you not get to know him?" He asked me suddenly, crossing his arms. His tone was much firmer now, almost in a lecture manner.

"What did he ever do to you?" I asked, defending the stranger. I didn't know why I was, really. I guess it was just in my nature to do so. I always cared for people-even complete strangers.

"He didn't do anything-"

"Then what's the big deal?" I asked, trying to compose my tone. "If he didn't do anything, then why do you guys hate him so much?" I asked, referring to my mother and Charlie as well.

"If you knew the story, you'd understand," he told me. I scoffed lowly in return. "But I don't think you'd even understand the story, Raeleigh."

I slid off the hood of the cruiser and stood in front of him, inches away. He towered over me, but I didn't feel intimidated by the drastic height difference between us. "I understand that it may be complicated, Samuel, but that's not a good enough reason. I will find out."

"Maybe when you're a bit older," he suggested, gently placing his hand against the back of my neck, his thumb on my cheek.

"Sure, sure," I grunted lowly before pulling away from his gentle yet firm grasp and making my way toward the house. Guilt washed over me. I hated arguing with Sam and knew he'd get over it sooner rather than later. He was never one to hold a grudge. But it still didn't make me feel any better. I wasn't even sure if I could call it an argument, really.

Sam made it into the house before me, his long strides helping him to walk faster. It seemed to be unpleasantly colder outside the moment he sauntered into the house, letting the door slam behind him. I exhaled heavily-not quite a sigh. I bit my bottom lip in thought of an apology as I slowly walked up the step and rested my hand on the frozen doorknob. Why should I apologize? I thought to myself, standing on the front porch completely motionless. I didn't do anything wrong…right? I asked myself.

Right.

When I walked into the house, my attention was immediately drawn toward Sam at the end of the hall. One in particular, one I didn't recognize-Jared or Paul-either grunted or growled at Sam. Either way, it wasn't a pleasant sound. I grimaced a little and peered closer though unfortunately, I couldn't hear what they were saying.

I forced myself to tear my gaze from them and stare at a picture-though I wasn't necessarily focused on the photo. Hanging my head low toward the photo, I tried to not look overly conspicuous as I kept my eyes in their general direction. I tried tuning out all other noises which surrounded me and thankfully the conversation between Sam and the angry boy became louder-though their words weren't the clearest, I tried to make out what I could.

"What in the hell are we supposed to do?" The angry boy asked firmly, his voice full of irritation. "We've done a lot but he's just not wanting to accept it. We don't even know if that's even going to happen in the near future!" He added.

Then it became inaudible again. Nothing the angry boy, whom I assumed to be Paul, made sense. What was supposed to happen, and if what, to whom? It seemed that everything had become a mystery, which I found to be intriguing. A mystery that wasn't my place to bud in, I reminded myself. Paul's voice became audible once more, pulling me out of my daze.

"We've tried, Sam! What the hell do you think we're doin' in our spare time? He ain't havin' it. What he needs to figure out is he can't fix everything that's ever happened." he explained, his tone more furious now, causing me to gasp at the sudden volume of his voice. I listened intently. "What I don't understand is that he still cares."

It irritated me that I couldn't hear Sam's responses. I grunted to myself as I tried to pay closer attention to them.

"I don't like 'em either, Sam, but what do you want me to do about it? I'm not the one in control here," His voice was still firm, but not quite as loud as earlier. My breathing became heavier the more I listened, "They're nothing but a bunch of leeches, even her. Sooner or later that kid's gonna figure it out and get his crap together," he commented lowly. "What that kid needs to do is find someone else who'll truly love him because he can't keep chasing the same girl who doesn't want him back."

It took me less than a minute to understand that they'd been talking about Jacob all along. What I didn't understand, however, was everything they were talking about in which involved him. I had a feeling it had to do with Bella and Edward. What had happened to Jacob that had Sam and Paul all worked up?

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I became a little flustered with all the questions brewing inside my already cluttered mind. I wanted to ask Sam or Paul about their conversation, but I knew it wasn't my place. I was already too curious for my own good. If I tried talking to Jacob, how would he react? Would be become furious with my bringing up an already heartbreaking subject? Or would he stop long enough to listen to what I had to say?

What could I say? I knew telling him that everything was going to be okay just wasn't good enough. I wanted to help but no advice came to mind. Maybe what Jacob needed wasn't a few consoling words. No. Perhaps what he really needed was for someone to love him the way he loved her.

Mom called to me as I sauntered into the living room. Holding out her hand, she took mine gently and smiled a little. "Are you okay?" she asked me.

I looked into her playful eyes-her lively eyes-and nodded after a short moment. "Yeah, I'm gonna go take a walk. Is that cool?"

"But everybody is so excited to see you," she complained-her smile fading slightly.

"I won't be long, I promise."

When I left the house, my first thought was to just get away from everything-to try and clear my head once again, though as I walked, my attempt at clearing my mind failed. Instead, I was thinking about the flood of information Paul shared with Sam, trying to force it all to make sense. Despite the overload, I felt better. At least I knew I was able to get my mind off of my Dad and concentrate on other things. Knowing Jacob was hurting, his problems thrashed out…it didn't make things perfect, but it made them better on my behalf. Knowing what it's like to have lost someone, I now know I was capable of consoling him.

First Beach was where I ended up. A beach I wasn't ever able to forget, no matter how hard I tried. The scenery was just as beautiful as I last remembered. I smiled, the warm, familiar smile that I had missed so much. I was right to have come here. I walked further into the sunset, while the night wasn't completely engulfed in darkness and noticed a familiar piece of driftwood-an entire tree-slightly discolored and beached deep in the sand, which lay just a few feet away from the shore.

The water was a dark gray, even in the sunlight. Islands rose out of the waters with cliff sides, reaching to uneven peaks, and crowned with austere, soaring firs. The water's edge had only a thin border of actual sand, after which it grew into millions of smooth stones that looked equivalently gray, but owned their own unique hue. Driftwood trees, some discolored and some bleached bone-white, were strewn into a half-moon like manner just along the tide line. Some were piled together against the edges of the forest perimeter while others lay introverted, just out of reach of the waves.

It wasn't long until I was accompanied, and it so-happened to be the one person I couldn't stop thinking about. He looked different-bigger than Sam-but there was still something about him that remained the same as I last remembered. He stood just before the shore-line, his face blank with shock. "Raeleigh?"

"Hey J.B!" I shouted, a nickname I gave him when we were younger.

"Oh my God, Raeleigh!" He yelled back in mid-laugh, running toward me. Now only a foot away, he ambled closer to me and took my hands in his. "Wow, look at you! You look amazing! When did you get here?" He asked hurriedly, excitedly.

I laughed, "You look really good too," I told him, I inevitably noticing how the more beautiful he became. His always-beautiful, russet-toned skin and long, glossy black hair-pulled into a messy half-ponytail-practically glowed from the reflection from the moon. "Mom and I just got here about twenty minutes ago."

Jake and I meandered alongside the beach, letting the cool, crisp water splash against our feet. We talked for what seemed like forever about everything we missed over the years. I, too, wanted to ask him about his part of the story, but was too keyed up over his excitement. He gently traced the scar on my inner forearm-the scar leading from my wrist, all the way down just before the pit of my arm-with his finger, "How are you coping?" His voice became a whisper now.

I took in a deep breath, as if bracing myself for the breakdown. It was too early for him to see me…shattered. I wanted to skip this part. I wiped the beginning tear from my eye and softly chuckled, "I'm good," I lied with a nod.

His face puckered up like he'd just eaten a lemon. "I'm sorry," he started softly. "You know you don't have to say anything if you don't want," he apologized and took hold of my hand, intertwining it with his. His hand burned into mine-hotter than Sam's, I noticed-but I part of me didn't want to let go.

I smiled a little to myself, "C'mon. We should probably head home before my Mom and Charlie assemble a search-party on us," I suggested lowly and scooted off the natural bench. Jacob's grasp on my hand, however, prevented me from going any further. I turned to him and glanced at our intertwined hands before looking at him. "What?"

Jacob pushed himself off the bench and pulled me closer to him, hugging me tightly, "You know you can tell me anything, right?" He said-his words sounding more like a statement than a question-with his face buried in my neck. I tightened my arms around his waist and nodded in reply, knowing he'd feel the bobbing of my head against his balmy flesh.

I pulled away from him sooner than he wanted, but he recovered from the awkwardness it left us. He stared at me as if expecting something to happen. I hung my head low, unable to speak. The thought of my Dad hadn't crossed my mind the moment it was averted to something unfamiliar and a little more interesting, the moment my curiosity took charge.

"I make you nervous," he said suddenly. I slowly lifted my head up to him, looking into his dark eyes. His expression was hard to read. He looked…hurt? I couldn't tell but I didn't want him to feel that any more. "If something I said upset you-"

"Don't be stupid," I interrupted, giving him a playful nudge. I forced a grin on my face and thankfully the mask I wore was paying off. The worried expression across his face lightened. "I'm fine, don't worry about me. I'm stronger than you think."

He didn't respond verbally. Instead, he only nodded at my reassurance and took hold of my hand. "Alright. Let's go home."