A/N: Thanks again for reading. Paul's up first this week and things get a little dramatic. Don't worry though, our favorite couple knows how to get things back on track.

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

Paul:

I was so royally fucked. Rachel was really pissed about the backpack. Really pissed. She'd been staring out the window for at least fifteen minutes, and I was about to go insane. Completely insane. Her breathing was quickened and her heart rate was above normal. I was waiting for her to go off the deep end. She had been seething when she got in the car, but had been absolutely silent. Rachel was not a silent girl. This wasn't going to be good when the silence ended.

I heard her intake of breath before she began speaking and prepared myself for the worst.

"I'm sorry," she apologized suddenly. "I overreacted.

I just shook my head. "No, it was my fault. I should have made sure Seth knew that it wasn't okay to carry it like that. I'll buy you a new bag if you want," I offered, knowing I would do anything to set this right.

This time, she shook her head. "No, Paul. It's not your fault. You did what you needed to get my bag to me, and I was an ungrateful whiny bitch about it. And you definitely don't have to buy me a new bag. I'll run it through the wash once at school, and it will be just fine."

Once? To get rid of werewolf drool? Unlikely. "It will probably take more than one time through," I informed her, hoping not to upset her again.

She sighed, but didn't seem angry, just resigned. Things got quiet again, though not quite as awkward as it had been previously. It was probably because I knew she wasn't preparing her words to yell at me. I was more than willing to give her space to think as long as she wasn't thinking of ways to break up with me. That kind of though must be avoided at all costs.

"What's your favorite color?" she asked out of the blue. I had no idea where this had come from but if she was talking, I wasn't going to tell her to stop.

"Umm, green?" I answered.

"Listen, Paul. I - " she started, but was cut off when her phone started ringing.

She pulled the phone out, and her shoulders dropped when she saw the name on the screen. This wasn't going to go well. Just hoped it wasn't Katie.

"Hey, Becca," she said quietly, giving me an apologetic look. At least it wasn't her wacko roommate. I didn't want her to start crying again. She'd done far too much crying the last few days. But Becca was different. Maybe she could even help her feel better.

She paused for a second, listening to Becca speak. "Sorry, Bex. I should have called. But you were right, going home was the right thing to do," she said, looking at me with a smile. I smiled at her and her grin widened. She was so beautiful. Then the conversation continued.

"Well, you know how Jake was in love with Charlie Swan's daughter? Apparently, she just married someone else! And she's only eighteen!" While Rachel was gossiping about the bloodsuckers, I realized I'd never told her the whole story. I'd informed her that, yes, vampires were real, but I didn't quite get in that there were some living very close by. And that Bella Swan had just married one of them. That would be an interesting conversation. I wasn't quite sure how she was going to take that.

Rachel groaned in response to something Becca said. "Don't you dare start telling me about your sex life with your husband again," she said. Apparently Becca was an oversharer. Rach was just going to have to get used to it. I was going to unintentionally overshare everything the next time I phased. Oops, I should probably mention the whole mind-reading thing to her too. Yeah, she was going to be really unhappy about that one.

Then Rachel continued, "I may vomit, and I don't want to mess up Paul's truck."

She'd mentioned me, and while that made me ridiculously happy, I also knew it wasn't the way she wanted to tell her sister about me. I was starting to learn quickly that she had a pretty severe case of verbal diarrhea. I didn't mind so much since she seemed to love giving me information I wouldn't have gotten otherwise, but in this instance I had a feeling it wasn't going to work out in her favor.

Then I heard her whisper the two great words I'd ever heard. "My boyfriend." Yes, I was her boyfriend, she was my girlfriend, and we were in love. God, could my life get any better? I moved my hand over to rest on her leg, attempting to share just how much I loved her.

"We've known him forever. It's Jake's friend Paul," she explained. I knew that Rachel didn't really remember me from when we were younger (thank god because my awkward phase was pretty rough), but Becca probably would. She was a lot more social than Rach. Not in a bad way, just more outgoing and needing to be in everyone's business. With that came the necessity of knowing everyone.

"Yep, that's him," Rachel said, looking at me with her lips curled up into a smile.

The smile faded quickly. "What can't you believe?" Becca spoke for a few seconds then Rachel looked like she was going to kill someone. "What? No! First of all, I haven't hopped into bed with anyone. And secondly, how dare you accuse me of something like that? I met a guy that I like, who likes me back, and it has absolutely nothing to do with Katie. And if you're going to toss out ridiculous stuff like that, I'm hanging up."

Rachel hung up the phone and turned it off. I could tell it was all she could do to hold herself together right. Hadn't I just thought a few minutes ago that I didn't want to see her crying anymore? This was starting to get ridiculous. I knew she wasn't one of those girls that broke down into tears over every little thing. Her tears were real. They meant something. They meant that she was really hurting and one of the few people she thought she could count on had put them there. I hated Becca at that moment. I knew it wouldn't last because she was Rach's sister and they would work things out. They were too close not to, but right now Becca was at the top of my shit list.

Rachel's tears weren't stopping anytime soon, so I pulled the truck over and held her in my arms again. I would never get tired of this feeling. If I could bring comfort to her, everything was alright. I held her tight, stroking her hair and trying to keep new rounds of sobs away.

"This is so fucked up," she gasped out. I agreed. Anytime she cried was completely fucked up in my opinion.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, hoping to get her start feeling better.

She apologized too. "I'm sorry," she said, burying her face in my shoulder.

"Wait, what are you apologizing for?" I asked, concerned. She had nothing to be sorry for.

"I'm sorry that you're seeing me cry. . . .again," she said while wiping her nose on my sleeve. Before my imprint, if a girl had done that to me, I would have been disgusted, now with Rachel, I'm happy to oblige.

"You're hurting. Of course you're going to cry. It's a normal human response."

She laughed quietly. "And all this time I've been convinced I don't have normal human emotions."

I smiled as he pushed my hair back from my face. I really hoped she was done crying. Those tear streaks down her cheeks were not my favorite attribute on her.

I asked if she wanted to talk about it, but all she wanted was for me to hold her for a few more minutes. My pleasure.

She pressed a kiss to my neck, and at first I thought it was just going to be a quick peck before settling back to our embrace, but when her lips lingered and I felt her hot breath on my skin, I couldn't hold back.

I pulled her face up to meet mine and kissed her with all the pent up emotions of the last few minutes. That was a lot of emotions to be put into one kiss. From the little gasping noise she made, I didn't think she minded.

Rachel:

I tried not to be angry about the backpack. I really did. But I really liked the bag, and now it really smelled like shit.

I didn't want to hold it over Paul's head. I knew that it wasn't his fault. He was the one who made sure I got the bag. I should have been thanking him.

I shook my head at myself as I got back into the passenger seat of Paul's truck. I hadn't said another word, knowing I needed to consider the things that came out of my mouth before I let them fly. I had been hot and cold all day, but I didn't know how else to react.

I had no idea how to go about this relationship stuff, and him being unconditionally in love with me didn't really help matters much. I knew that being a bitch about the bag was not helping the situation at all. But I also knew that no matter what I did, he wasn't walking away. I hated that imprinting basically gave me permission to be the biggest bitch imaginable with no consequences. I didn't want to act like that. I wanted Paul to love me because he wanted to, not because he had to. And I wanted to be able to love him back for who he was, not just because he treated me well. I wanted to be able to argue and fight, and act like the normal couple I knew we could never be.

I knew that as time went on we would settle into our routine and find what worked for us, but I'd always been impatient. I wanted things figured out now. Unfortunately, it wasn't something that could just be decided. We would need to spend time together and learn about each other. Just because we were in love didn't mean that we were truly a couple in every sense of the word. I barely knew anything about him.

The only things I knew about him were basic. He was a year younger than me. He was a werewolf. His name was Paul . . . Umm. Shit. I didn't even know his fucking last name! Fuck!

I didn't know anything about this guy, like seriously nothing at all. I didn't know his last name, where he lived, who his friends were outside of the pack. I didn't know his favorite food, what he did for a living before he was a wolf, or what he wanted to do later on.

What bothered me the most was that in spite of all of this 'not knowing', I still felt sure of my feelings for Paul. Okay, I guess it didn't bother me. It was just a little disconcerting to realize that everything I ever believed about falling in love was completely untrue.

I always thought that when I fell in love, it would be a long build-up. I would meet a guy, we would date for a while, we would start spending more and more time together, realizing that there was nothing either of us wanted more than spending time together. Then eventually without realizing it, love would sneak up on me. But that's not quite the way things happened.

Love still sure as hell snuck up on me though.

I glanced to the side and saw Paul watching me more than he was watching the road. Again. I couldn't say that I minded at all. The look on his face was not quite what I was expecting though. He was worried that I was mad at him. I could read it all over his face.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I overreacted."

He shook his head. "No, it was my fault. I should have made sure Seth knew that it wasn't okay to carry it like that. I'll buy you a new bag if you want," he offered.

It was my turn to shake my head. "No, Paul. It's not your fault. You did what you needed to get my bag to me, and I was an ungrateful whiny bitch about it. And you definitely don't have to buy me a new bag. I'll run it through the wash once at school and it will be just fine."

He gave me a regretful look and bit his lip. "It will probably take more than one time through," he shared.

I sighed but didn't let it get to me. It wasn't a big deal. It was just a bag, and even if it did need to be replaced, I could more than afford to do it myself.

Also, I had more important fish to fry, like finding out anything about him, so I didn't feel quite so much like I was riding with a stranger. A stranger I was in love with. A stranger who was also a werewolf. God, this was a soap opera waiting to happen. Phases of Our Lives.

Now, I just needed to figure out how to get to know him. I'd known for quite a long time I wasn't very good at getting to know people. It stemmed entirely from not ever having to get to know people in my youth. I knew everyone's life story until I graduated from high school. I could tell you everyone's first, middle, and last name, their birthdate, and their drink of choice. Even the people I didn't like, I still knew everything about. One of the perils of growing up in a small town. I didn't find the information myself, it was all given to me through the gossip grapevine, or information moving so slowly among people that it could barely be considered new knowledge at all.

Finally I decided to go with the obvious.

"What's your favorite color?" I blurted.

He looked at me with his eyebrows drawn together, obviously taken aback by my random question.

"Umm, green?" he offered tentatively. He still thought I was upset about the backpack so he was treading lightly. I needed to figure out a way to assure him that I wasn't as pissed as I'd originally appeared.

"Listen, Paul. I -" I was cut off by the ringing of my phone.

I reached into my backpack and pulled it out. The name "Becca" was on the screen and I immediately felt ashamed that I hadn't called her in two days. Especially after the state I'd been in the last time I talked to her. She was probably worried sick about me.

"Hey, Becca," I answered warily.

"Well, hello there, twin. I see you're still alive, despite the fact that you haven't called me in two days." I could tell she wasn't really upset, just more confused that I hadn't been leaning on her for support like I usually did. She probably thought I was incredibly depressed and not able to talk about things yet. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I was relying on someone else for emotional support.

"Sorry, Bex. I should have called. But you were right, going home was the right thing to do," I said with a glance at Paul. He smiled at me and I couldn't stop myself from smiling back.

"That's good," Becca replied. "I'm glad Dad and Jake kept you occupied. What's the new gossip?"

Becca was a gossip hound. As much as I enjoyed people giving me the dirt on everyone else, Becca was the one who actively sought it out. Since she'd moved away she didn't have any real source of information anymore and she was not happy with how little I snooped whenever I was home. Thankfully, I had some information for her that should would find very interesting.

"Well, you know how Jake was in love with Charlie Swan's daughter? Apparently she just married someone else! And she's only eighteen!"

"Hey! I was only eighteen when I got married!" Becca protested. "But seriously? She was all Jake could go on about for months? How's he taking it?"

"I don't know. He didn't really want to talk about it, but he seemed pretty upset when he told me about it. I think it's going some time for him to get over it. You know how it is with first loves."

Becca laughed. "You know I do."

I groaned and closed my eyes. "Becca, don't you dare start telling me about your sex life with your husband again. I may vomit, and I don't want to mess up Paul's truck."

Becca silenced mid-laugh. "Paul? Who's Paul?"

I mentally berated myself for my slip of tongue. Why did I never think before I spoke? This was going to be hard enough to explain without me blowing it with my big mouth.

"My boyfriend," I said quietly, knowing I shouldn't lie. It would only make things worse for me with Becca later, and worse for me with Paul right now.

I felt Paul's hand rest on my leg and squeeze for moral support.

"Since when do you have a boyfriend?"

"Umm, since about an hour ago, I guess," I informed her.

"An hour? How long have you known this guy?"

"Well . . ." I started off slowly, trying to think of where to begin. "He's from the rez and I met him again on when I came home. But I've known him forever. We've known him forever," I clarified. "It's Jake's friend Paul."

"Jake's friend Paul," Becca said slowly, trying the words out like they were in a different language. "Paul Singer?"

Yes! His last name is Singer. Thank fuck I don't have to ask him that later. Or worse, get caught going through his wallet trying to find his ID.

"Yeah, that's him."

"I can't believe you, Rach."

"What can't you believe?" I asked in confusion.

"I can't believe you went home depressed, and hopped in bed with the first guy you came across," she accused.

"What? No! First of all, I haven't hopped into bed with anyone. And secondly, how dare you accuse me of something like that? I met a guy that I like, who likes me back, and it has absolutely nothing to do with Katie. And if you're going to toss out ridiculous stuff like that, I'm hanging up."

And I did. I hit the red button to end the call then held it down to turn the phone off. I tried hard to hold back the tears, but I was fighting a losing battle. As soon as Paul realized how upset I was, he pulled the truck to the side of the road for the second time today to allow me to cry. This was starting to get old fast.

He slid across the seat and wrapped his arms around me, pushing my face into his shoulder as I cried. He stroked my hair to soothe me and held me tighter if I got particularly loud.

"This. Is. So. Fucked. Up," I gasped between sobs. I was referring more to Paul having to see my cry again, than with my fight with Becca. Yeah, she said some shitty things, but we always work things out. I'm pissed as shit at her now, but it's not worth crying over. We fought on a fairly regular basis, and though this was a big one, I knew it wasn't too big to get over. I'd caught her off guard, mentioning Paul, and she said the first thing that came to mind. She'd always had a problem with word vomit.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

We both apologized at the same time.

"Wait, what are you apologizing for?" Paul asked me, his eyes laced with concern, probably convinced that I was going insane.

"I'm sorry that you're seeing me cry. . . .again," I replied, sniffing and wiping my nose on my sleeve.

He rolled his eyes at me. "Seriously? You're hurting. Of course you're going to cry. It's a normal human response."

I barked out a small laugh. "And all this time I've been convinced I didn't have normal human emotions."

He reached his hand up and smoothed back the hair that had been clinging to my face. He gave me an encouraging smile and I knew I was done crying for the day.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

I shook my head and wrinkled my nose. "Naw, I think I just want to sit here with you a few more minutes before we start again."

"That's just fine with me," he replied, tightening his grip around me.

I pressed a kiss to his neck and lingered there for a second, just breathing in his scent.

And just like that he pulled my chin up and was kissing the shit out of me.

Not that I was complaining.