Author's note- Enjoy.

Thanks to my beta Warui-Usagi :).

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Twilight series. All recognizable characters, places, plot lines etc. are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

I was folded over the desk in history class, grumbling about the project on the Harlem Renaissance that we had just been assigned.

"Alright, kids, Forks High School is letting us borrow their library," the teacher dictated. Stupid, small town budget. Can't even afford to have a library in our own high school…we actually have to share—how embarrassing, I complained silently. "So, bring at least three sources tomorrow, cited on note cards. Only one of them can be from the internet." A collective groan rose from the group of students around me. The teacher rolled her eyes and spun on her heel, marching out of the classroom.

I shoved my books into the messenger bag on the back of the seat and swung it over my shoulder. I stalked into the hallway and ran up to the swish of long, silky black hair ahead of me.

"Chance!" I called. She paused to look over her shoulder and waited for me to catch up. "Will you drive me to Forks tonight?"

"No."

Typical. I rolled my eyes, "Chance, c'mon! I need books for a history project!"

"Have Quil drive you."

"He's…working."

"Well, Claire, I'm going on a date," she explained, whipping her luxurious hair over to the side with a flick of her wrist. "And I've honestly blown this guy off four different times, so I actually have to go."

"But…but—"

"C, why don't you just take my car?"

"Maybe because I don't have my license?!"

"You get it in like two weeks!" She cried in a high voice, twisting a length of her mane into a side braid as she slumped into the driver's side of her car. "You've been driving the two of us around for months!" My heart beat flew through the roof as the recognition of how close everything was finally dawned on me. Sixteen. It was a big year. I gulped. "It will be good practice for you!" she insisted, a charming smile on her face as she tried to convince me.

"Yeah, that's fine," I placated her, my voice shaky with the fresh realization. Quil. Sixteen.

I paced back and forth in front of the door once we got back home, chewing my nails to the quick. Quil. Quil. Quil. Quil. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sixteen. Sixteen. Sixteen. Sixteen. It was a mantra—a terrifying, exhilarating, unbelievable, anxious, pent-up, tense mantra. I felt a huge ball of nerves rolling in my stomach, twisting this way and that as I strode through the small entryway.

"If you don't go soon it'll be closed," Chance sang from the bathroom.

"Leaving," I called. I wrenched the keys off of the counter, digging the jagged edges into my palms with nerves. The old, black sedan protested as I turned the spark plugs to life, hearing the engine flip flop under the hood. To be honest, it probably could have used a visit to Jake's garage.

My fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel the entire way there. My lips tingled incessantly from the heat that I had on my mind, imagining his hands flowing over the parts of me that I'd wanted to give to him for so long. My pulse was rocketing in my ears, fourteen days until my birthday? That couldn't be right, if it was March fifth today…that left me with…well—fourteen days until my birthday. That had never seemed as small of a number as it did then.

The drive to Forks wasn't a long one, twenty minutes in the absence of rain. I meandered into the small building to the left of the main office with the large, black plaque reading Library over the door. I allowed my fingers to trail over the spines of books as I sauntered through the aisles, grabbing one on the Blues, one about Zora Neale Hurston, and a biography of Jackie Robinson.

My excitement and anxiety rose and fell in my chest, riding a roller coaster of intensity. I felt my eyes fluttering nervously as my hands shook, how could I not have realized how close everything was? I could almost taste the anticipation that revolved in my core.

I ambled to the librarian's desk, fitting a (hopefully) discreet smile onto my lips. The thud of my heart was strong beneath my breast bone, each beat ringing with the same syllable. Him. Him. Him.

"Good evening," the lady behind the desk said politely, scanning my books and taking my school ID. "You're from La Push, huh?"

This is a bright one. "Yeah, born and raised."

"I like it over there, beautiful beaches."

I nodded in agreement and took my books once they had been scanned, "thank you," I called out as I pushed into the still air outside. The car complained as I stuck the key in again, pulling back out onto the road.

The tall trees that lined the interstate stretched their fingers up to the rain, scratching the clouds with their branches. The scenery flashed by me in a blur of grey and green, familiar in its type, unfamiliar in its contents. A song I knew began wafting from the speakers and I couldn't help my fingers as they danced on the guitar strings that I imagined onto the steering wheel.

My mind took a U-turn, flipping back to the channel that kept my heart racing and my palms sweaty. His gorgeous eyes flashed behind mine, full of all the adoration in the entire world. His sincerity made the mocha color soft and moldable, able to send shocks down my spine.

And then there were some times…those times, when I knew exactly what he was thinking about. There was a smoldering need there, a fiercely greedy and pleasurable need that he yearned for. And lately, my body had come to responding to those looks. My lungs would freeze and my eyes would glaze over, a coil of desire tightening in my core.

And soon, as in fourteen days soon, there wouldn't really be anything to keep us from fulfilling those…feelings. My head swam at the possibilities. The drops of precipitation continued pounding my windshield as I rolled down the roads, like the drops of keen anxiety that were pelting my brain.

I probably wouldn't have noticed her if the rain jacket that she was wearing hadn't been a sapphire blue trench. She stuck out like a sore thumb against the silver Volvo that I hadn't ever seen before. She was leaning against the hood of the car, staring at something off in the distance. I glanced back before I pulled to the side of the road and she had the most flustered look on her face. I followed her eye line and noticed that her troubled expression was glaring at the green sign less than twenty yards in front of her, Welcome to La Push. I swerved to the shoulder in front of her, flipping my hood up so that I could step into the rain.

"Stormy!" I called from the front seat, hoping that she wouldn't make me get out of the car. She squinted her eyes at me and tilted her head quizzically. "Stormy, what are you doing?" I yelled. She didn't respond. I clambered out of the car and scowled as the swollen rain began throttling the body of my jacket.

"No, no!" She came out of her laid back position and her eyes were wide, her voice kind. "Keep going!" She told me. I paused about twenty feet from her, glaring demandingly.

"What the hell are you doing out here in the rain?" I asked, completely annoyed at her weirdo antics. "And whose car is that? I've never seen it before."

"I don't think you know who I am," she promised, her pretty brown hair getting dark from the moisture.

I rolled my eyes and guffawed. What is she on! "Stormy, please just get in the car. I'm freezing, and this isn't very funny."

She turned her head and her dark eyebrows closed the space between them. "That's not my name."

"What do you mean it's not your—"

There isn't an accurate way to describe the way it feels when time literally stops around you. The rain didn't fall; it dangled in midair, suddenly paused into the same shock that had trilled through me. The air went cold in my lungs; the fog that was hanging from my lips froze.

I gaped at the girl in front of me, my eyes scanning over her. The flowing brown hair looked so familiar…but different. Her skin was as smooth as ivory, and I may have imagined it but I'd have sworn that it nearly reflected the low light of evening. But that wasn't what gave it away. It was her eyes. Stormy's milky grey eyes could have caught me anywhere. But these, these were different. They were gold, a bright gold.

"You're shivering," she said sympathetically. I nodded my head slightly, unable to formulate any type of response. "You should go, really, I'm fine. I promise."

"But you're…" the words tripped their way up my throat, "you're Bella."

Her eyes flew open, her expression almost…bewildered. "You—you know who I am?"

I nodded.

"Maybe you should." She paused and was in mid-step, trying to decide what to do. "Would you maybe talk with me?" Her voice was muted, nearing pleading. Bella. Bella. Bella. Jake's Bella.

"Sure, sure."

She winced at my response and pressed two fingers into her temples. She walked to the passenger side of the silver Volvo and tossed the door open, motioning for me to get in. I approached warily, lowering stiffly into the warm, leather interior. Bella. Jake's Bella. The thought couldn't thread itself into my consciousness fast enough. This couldn't be her. This girl didn't look a year over nineteen.

But it was her.

"Erm—I don't even know where to start…" she whispered.

"Seems like you're about as eloquent as I am then."

She laughed, "How is it possible that you know who I am?" she wondered quietly, accompanying the question with a shake of her head.

"Um, Jake told me." How was I supposed to feel? Sitting here with a girl I felt like I knew. Being in this small of a space with the one person that had crushed one of my best friends. Shouldn't I have felt angry? Betrayed? Spiteful? Bent on revenge?

But I didn't. I felt calm, like I'd known her forever.

"Jake?" Her voice shook a little bit, a sharp crook of pain to it. Apparently it had hurt her to leave, too. "You know Jake?" Her inquest was almost frenzied at this new bit of information.

"Yeah, I—"

"Wait," she told me, "what's your name?" Her eyebrows had nearly lifted into her hairline in curiosity.

"Claire."

The corners of her eyes softened as her lips curved into a charming smile, "Claire," she said quietly. "Quil's Claire."

My heart skipped a beat. "You know me?" I asked, baffled.

She shook her head kindly, "no, I never got to meet you. I always hoped I would though. Jacob told me about you."

My thoughts were whirring past my eyes, calculating things too quickly for me to keep track of.

She cleared her throat and sheepishly glanced towards me, "would it be terrible if I asked you for a favor?"

"No, course not."

"Could you…maybe go find Jake for me? Could you tell him I was here?" Her eyes were scorching with a desire, a need. And I knew who could fulfill it. "He's changed his number…so I can't get a hold of him."

Why didn't she just drive into La Push? Had she forgotten where he lived, too?

"Sure." What else was I supposed to say? What else could I have said? If he didn't want to see her then he wouldn't come once I told him. No harm done. The door clicked as I opened it, stepping into the soaking weather.

"Claire?" She called as I straightened up; I leaned down into the frame of the car. "It was really nice to meet you," she affirmed, her golden eyes shimmering.

"You too," I swore, a comfortable smile fitting over my lips. I rushed into the black sedan and sped towards the little red house that held a very big and soon to be surprised werewolf.

I burst through the front door, thankful that Billy wasn't in the living room. "Jake!"

He skidded into the hall, a frightened look on his face. "Claire?" He scratched the back of his neck and stalked towards me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," I assured him, breathing heavily from my sprint up to the door. "There's someone waiting for you though."

"Waiting for me?" He asked, taken aback. "Like, Quil?"

"No." I took in a deep breath and uttered the two words that he had been waiting to hear for fourteen years. "Bella's here."

"What?" His voice hardened, as did his eyes.

"Well, not here," I corrected. "She's waiting for you, by the sign that says Welcome to La Push, ya know?" He didn't respond. "She told me that she wanted me to come get you."

He was out of the door faster than I could have blinked. The rabbit's engine roared in the garage and I heard him spin it onto the main road. Something told me he would be excited to see her. I wanted so badly to follow him, to see the happiness on his face when he finally met up with her again. I wondered if he'd notice how young she looked, too. Would he realize how similar she and Stormy looked?

I wouldn't know until later and so with my nosiness at a peak, I ambled out to the car and drove slowly towards my house. I stowed it happily underneath the weather cover and didn't turn the knob of the front door fully before Quil had yanked me inside.

"What were you thinking?" He demanded.

"What?" My puzzled tone wasn't disguised. "Thinking, when?" My head was a little slow from the events of the past half hour.

"Driving, Claire?" He asked sternly. "You do not have a license!"

"I needed history books," I said softly, offering my pile of materials up to him as his expression melted peacefully. "Chance, wouldn't take me."

He sighed and dragged me into his arms, "why didn't you just call me? I'd have taken you." He took a deep breath of my hair and then went rigid against my spine. "Claire," he said gruffly.

"Yes?" My voice shook from his reaction.

"Where have you been?"

"What do you mean? I went to the library."

"No! You went into the woods, didn't you?!" He was almost yelling.

I backed away from him. "No, I didn't!" I retorted.

"You smell like them!"

Them? Them, who?

He slammed his fist onto the table, "I told you never to go into wooded areas without me, Claire! You don't know what hides out there!" He was shaking.

"Quil, I didn't go into the woods! Okay?" I screamed back.

He looked down to me, "where did you go then?" He commanded.

"I went to the library and then I—I…ran into an old friend."

He stiffened. "What old friend?"

I cringed. "Bella."

The mocha of his eyes lit with a different fire this time, fury.

Author's note- Ah! Suspense! Leave a review!! :).