A/N: Thanks for reading. We get our first peek of Paul POV in this chapter, but Rachel is up first.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, but if I did, there would be a lot more werewolves and a lot fewer vampires.

Rachel:

I smiled. Paul was cute. That was usually the beginning of the end for me when it came to my love life. It was in my experience that two kinds of guys were attracted to me:

1. Assholes that are only after one thing. They lay the charm on thick and are very self-assured, your basic 'anything with legs' attitude. When I turn them down they decide that I am a bitch and not worth their efforts anymore. They are the ones that are easy to get rid of.

2. Losers who rarely have a girl return affections but don't let that deter them from wearing their hearts on their sleeves. When I turn them down they take it as an invitation to try harder.

Basically, I attracted the guys who were willing to take anything and everything that they could get. And the normal ones, the ones I was attracted to, didn't fall into either group and tended to avoid me like the plague. It was not the situation I would have picked, but it was the one I had to deal with. So I dealt with it in the easiest way possible. I decided a long time ago that I was just giving up. I wasn't interested in any of the guys who were interested in me, and I was more than self-sufficient enough that I did not have to worry about needing a man in my life. With those two things cleared up, it was easy for me to make my decision. I didn't need a man, and I worked hard not to want one. And it had been working out very well.

I had a pretty good idea which group Paul fit into just from watching the way others reacted to him. He obviously thought very highly of himself. I quickly pegged him for Group 1, which was easier to deal with. I would turn him down, firmly but politely and he would move on to someone else. But that didn't mean I had to be nasty.

"Hi Paul," I said. "Where do I know you from?"

He smiled like he was going to enjoy giving the coming answer. "I was a year behind you in school."

"Oh, you went to QTS?" I really couldn't place him, and the school was small enough that I should still remember everyone, whether it had been 4 years or not. "Why don't I recognize you?"

He smiled that same proud smile. "I had a bit of a growth spurt last year. I grew 4 inches and put on 30 pounds of muscle." I could see in his eyes he was resisting the urge to flex. I didn't mean to but I laughed out loud. He looked confused, wondering what he had said that was funny. I tried cover as best I could. I didn't want him thinking I found him funny. That would just make it that much harder to let him down easy.

"Sorry, you just reminded me of a friend from school. He did something really funny the other day that I would explain, but it's a long story and you probably had to be there." I giggled again hoping I had sold the story.

Apparently I had. "Oh, is he your boyfriend?" Paul asked me.

I laughed slightly. The imaginary guy I had just made up in my mind was about as far from boyfriend material as possible and I couldn't turn him into Jake Gyllenhaal in my head quickly enough to reverse my opinion. "No, definitely not." Then for some reason I felt compelled to add, "I don't have a boyfriend."

He smirked victoriously. He was smug, liking the fact that I didn't have a boyfriend, thinking it meant the road was clear for him. Oh, how I begged to differ. My trust issues were downed trees in the road, while a current boyfriend would just be a speed bump.

"Are you hungry?" he asked me. At least he was pretending to be considerate. As long as he kept this up, I couldn't be mean to him.

"Actually I'm starving, but I don't eat hotdogs," I replied. It was kind of disconcerting that I felt comfortable around him, but hopefully he would understand and not force me to eat one.

I was wrong. "That's just because you've never had a secret Quileute hotdog before. Hold on a second." He grabbed a stick from the ground (disgusting) and pulled a hotdog from a cooler a few feet away. I started protesting but decided my interest in saving my stomach could be misconstrued as interest in him so I kept my mouth shut. He heated the hotdog in the fire and pulled it out after it had started flaming. Great, not only was he going to make me eat a hotdog, he was making me eat charcoal too. He blew out the flame and put it into a bun, handing it to me. I eyed it nervously, remembering all the horrible cookouts we had as children, where Dad's opinion of a cooked hotdog was one that wasn't frozen anymore. I shuddered at the thought.

"Just try it," he requested.

That strange feeling surfaced again, that comfortable feeling. I didn't like that feeling but I took a bite of the hotdog anyway. It was delicious. "Mmm. Wow, how did you do that?"

"An old family secret."

"And you're not going to tell me what it is?" I asked sweetly, hoping to get this information out of him before I sent him packing.

"I might if you go on a walk with me," he suggested. I wasn't sure I wanted to be alone with him but as long as we didn't get too far from the group Jake would come to my aid if I needed him. And Jake was a lot bigger than Paul.

"Ok," I replied, taking another bite of hotdog. It was so good I finished it before we were even to the tree line.

We walked a few yards into the woods before Paul sat on a log that had fallen sideways, motioning for me to sit next to him. I obliged and stared up at the stars. After a few minutes Paul interrupted my admiration of the sky with a question I knew would lead to topics I had no desire to discuss.

"Why haven't you been around?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "I've been away at school."

He leaned closer to me, "You don't get breaks?"

"I do, but that's when I get the most hours at work, so I just stay at school." Technically I wasn't lying, I just wasn't telling the whole truth.

"Oh," he replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. Was he sad that I never came home or that I had to work when I should be having fun? Whichever it was, I found it kind of creepy. I barely knew this kid. "Where do you go to school?" he asked.

"Wazzu."

"Shit, that's forever away!" he reacted immediately. Then he composed himself and cleared his throat, looking for a way to explain his outburst. "That's what, 8 hours away?" I nodded. "How can you stand to be so far from home?"

"Well, they're the ones that gave me a scholarship," I said. I knew from his expression that he wanted more information, and I was horrified with myself that I wanted to give it to him. "It was hard at first but after awhile it's not any different from going to school in Seattle except it takes longer to drive home. I wouldn't come home any more often even if I went to school in Forks. It's just too hard." Dammit, I said too much. I didn't like how easy it was to talk to him. I didn't like people I barely knew knowing all of my business.

"What's too hard?" he pried.

I shook my head. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. It's not something I like to talk about." I stood up and turned to leave when he put a hand on my shoulder.

"Is it about your mom?" he asked, with what sounded like compassion but could very well have been feigned interest.

I spun to face him and met his eyes with a glare. "How do you know about that?"

"Jacob and I are friends, and I know he has a hard time with it. I just figured that you probably do too." He tried to take my hand in his but I pulled it back. The hurt was evident on his face, and I knew I owed him an explanation.

"I'm sorry. It's just not something that I talk about. Ever." I emphasized the last word so he would understand the topic was off-limits. He nodded slightly but there was something in his eyes that told me he was not going to let this go.

"It's ok, we should probably be heading back anyway," he said with disappointment. So he was the desperate type. I sighed, knowing that they were harder to shake off than the ones who were full of themselves. I didn't want to deal with this.

Paul:

This was not good. This was so not good. I had just imprinted on Jacob's sister right in front of him. I panicked thinking everyone had noticed, but it turns out that it takes a lot for the pack to notice something when there was food nearby. I wasn't sure what to do. I knew I couldn't keep staring at her across the fire, that would just force her to ask Jacob who I was and he would tear me limb from limb if he knew what had just happened. I had to act fast, get her on my side before her brother decided to murder me.

I hadn't been victim to imprinting paranoia like some of my brothers. One of them thought a girl was cute and followed her around for a week before he realized she wasn't his imprint because she was so annoying he wanted to stab himself just being in her presence (*cough* Embry *cough*). Thankfully that had never happened to me. Deep down I always had a feeling that if and when I imprinted I would just know. And I had been right. There was no denying that this feeling was different from any other I had ever experienced.

I walked over to her and she held her hand out to me, introducing herself. Did she really not know who I was? I was discouraged, knowing that if she didn't remember me it would take more than the approximately three minutes that I had to get her to like me enough to keep me alive.

When she said she recognized me a smile spread across my face. I could work with that. I introduced myself, probably more enthusiastically that I should have but she was my imprint, did it really matter?

She smiled back at me and I just about fell to the ground. It couldn't be this easy could it? Was she in love with me already? I knew I had no experience with this but maybe, just maybe, she could feel this on her end too. That was probably too much to hope for.

"Why don't I recognize you?" she asked me. I didn't mind the fact that turning into a wolf had changed me physically. In fact I enjoyed the four inches added onto my height and the 30 pounds of muscle that made me strong enough to uproot a tree. I didn't give Rachel all of this information though. That would be a little much for her at first. I'd save my love for my 6-pack for the eventual imprinting conversation.

While I was thinking about this she laughed out loud. Did I say something funny? Did something funny happen behind me? I was confused.

When she explained I was even more confused since she was obviously lying. She told me that I reminded her of a friend at school, which I doubted. But she had mentioned another guy, and I suddenly I had to know whether she had a boyfriend or not. I was in love with her already but if she had a boyfriend it would be easier to accept knowing her as a friend, rather than knowing her biblically, if I found out sooner rather than later. An image of her in less than sufficient clothing shot through my mind but I had to stuff if down to ask my question. "Is he your boyfriend?"

She laughed again, and this time I didn't think she was lying. "No, definitely not. I don't have a boyfriend."

YES! Thank god, I knew the friend thing would never have worked. Well, I would have made it work, but I wouldn't have liked it. I was already too in love with her to ever accept anything less than everything. I stopped myself from smiling widely knowing she would probably find that creepy, and I didn't want her first impression of me to be a creeper, since I was pretty sure that's what Jacob was going to tell her as soon as he found out. I couldn't keep my face completely stoic though and I felt a smirk sneak up on my lips.

I didn't know what to say next. I stood there trying to think of something witty to say that would make her fall in love with me immediately. I couldn't come up with anything that profound so I tried the next best thing, helping her achieve a full stomach. "Are you hungry?" I asked her.

Her response floored me. She was hungry but she didn't eat hotdogs. I couldn't remember a time when I was hungry and I wasn't shoving every food-product in the state in my mouth. Sometimes, not gonna lie, I may have encountered a napkin, bun wrapper, or other such item and was too hungry to remove it. But paper is fiber and fiber is good for you right? Though I'm not really sure I could justify the rock that was attached to the grilled cheese sandwich Jacob threw onto the beach last week.

I couldn't let her go hungry, no matter her resolve. And, not too sound too full of myself, but I do cook a mean hotdog on a stick. Fire cooked hotdogs came in a close second to deep fried hotdogs in my book but hauling a deep fryer out here would be ridiculous (not to mention extremely hazardous if anyone got mad at each other). After I told her she was eating I grabbed a stick from the ground. She made a face which I'm sure meant that she had no desire to eat anything that was at one point attached to a dirt covered stick. Little did she know that the dirt only made it better. I handed her finished dog to her. She eyed it nervously like it was going to attack her.

I chuckled, "Just try it." She took a bite and closed her eyes as she chewed. A small moan escaped her lips and for the second time in five minutes I almost collapsed onto the ground. I had made her do that. I could go the rest of my life and never be happier than I was in this moment. I had made Rachel happy.

Now she was pumping me for information. How had I made such an amazing hotdog? I hated to break it to her but all I did was hold the stick in the fire. I couldn't let her know that I was a hotdog hack however. "Old family secret." Now she was really turning on the charm trying to get it out of me. I wasn't about to let it go though. I would let her think there was some 'Great Quileute Hotdog Cooking Secret' that she didn't know about and if she went on a walk with me I would tell her the secret. I was enjoying this too much.

When I asked her to go for a walk, she considered it longer than necessary. So long that I was afraid that she was going to say no. As we walked she finished the hotdog, and I put my hand out, trying to grab hers but she seemed completely oblivious. I could deal with rejection as long as it wasn't conscious rejection.

We made our way to a fallen tree a short ways into the woods, and I tapped the space next to me wishing she would join me. She sat and stared up at the sky. I stared at her. When I was finished memorizing her face my curiosity got to me. "Why haven't you been around?"

She tried to play it off, saying she'd been away at school but I knew better. She didn't come home even when she could, and I had an idea why, but I couldn't bring it up straight away. She would wonder how I knew so much. I didn't want to have to bring up the fact that her brother and I were connected mentally when we were both werewolves. That may have shocked her a little bit.

I asked about her breaks and she gave me a lame answer about working at school, but I knew that wasn't the whole story. I didn't like that she didn't feel she could be completely truthful with me. The only response I could manage was, "Oh." Maybe I could go visit her during her next break, so she wouldn't be there all by herself while she was avoiding home. I then realized that I had no idea where she went to school, so I asked her.

When she answered my heart sank. Washington State was on the complete other side of the state. In fact, I was pretty sure you couldn't be any farther away and still be in the state of Washington. I didn't think I could stand to be so far away from her. I tried to hide my shock but not fast enough. "Shit, that's forever away!" escaped my lips.

I tried to compose myself, to ask the real question on my mind. "That's what, 8 hours away?" When she nodded I started calculating in my head. Eight hours of driving after my shift on Thursday night would put me at Wazzu at about 4pm on Friday afternoon. If I left just in time to get back for my shift on Sunday night, that would be 2pm on Sunday afternoon. That left me with the possibility of 46 hours with Rachel. I realized at that moment that I really shouldn't be planning this already. I was probably coming off really creepy.

I had an idea of the answer to my next question, but I wanted to hear it from her. "How can you stand to be so far from home?" She gave me some bullshit line about a scholarship, but I knew full well that she could have gone to any school she wanted. She picked the one that was the farthest away. She was determined to stay away from La Push.

That was evidenced fully by the continuation of her answer. "It was hard at first, but after awhile it's not any different from going to school in Seattle except it takes longer to drive home. I wouldn't come home any more often even if I went to school in Forks. It's just too hard."

And there it was. I had been suspecting it and now it was confirmed. I had to make sure, though. "What's too hard?"

I could see her shut down before my eyes. Apparently it was something she didn't talk about. She got up to leave but I couldn't let her go yet. I regretted bringing it up in the first place, but now that it was out there we had to finish it.

I stood from my seat and put a hand on her shoulder. Touching her was like being hit my lightning. My entire body was electrified as I whispered in her ear, "Is it about your mom?"

She turned around and glared at me. Obviously she'd meant it when she said she didn't talk about it. "How do you know about that?"

I only stretched the truth a little when I explained that I'd heard it from Jacob. I'd said were friends, which wasn't exactly the case. We were completely antagonistic to each other, and now after I'd imprinted on his sister I was positive we would be even more so.

I tried to take her hand to show that I was sorry for bringing it up, but she pulled it back, uncomfortable with the contact. I was saddened, wishing I could touch her again. That electric feeling was addictive.

She started apologizing and stressed that talking about her mom was not allowed. I complied with her request but knew that someday we would have this conversation. She was my imprint, and I would wait for her to be ready.

"It's ok, we should probably be heading back anyway," I said. I was pretty sure that I had convinced her that I was a worthwhile human being, at least enough that she would intervene if her brother decided an execution was in order. Now it was time to face Jacob.