Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 6

No – no – possibly maybe – maybe –maybe – no – no – yes – nooooo. I continued flipping through shoeboxes of pictures. Some I had saved and carried with me from when I was younger here in La Push, a lot from college in California, and a few from the last five years. While I was out buying necessities for my new home like bed sheets and silverware, I picked up a few frames and I needed to find some good memories from my life that wouldn't depress me…

But I was also doing this so I could pass time as I watched Paul's truck. It was still sitting in my driveway, and I had the perfect view from my kitchen table… but it had been three hours since he left. Did he just leave –walk away? Why wouldn't he just get into his truck and drive away?

Paul Lahote was a strange person and not even the good kind.

"What are we staring at?" A deep voice breathed behind me.

"Fudge sticks!" I cursed, startled and sent a shoebox to the floor.

"Sorry, my bad," Seth laughed as he bent to pick up the spilt photos. "Ooo, you look good in this picture-"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I snatched the picture from his grip. "You little… ninja. How did you get in here?"

"Backdoor was unlocked. I came over to get Paul's toolbox. He's a got a tiny screwdriver that I need for-"

"And do you know where he is now?"

"No, where?"

"No, I was asking you…"

"Oh, is he not here?" he frowned looking around. "His truck's here…"

"Yeah and how'd you get here?"

"Through the woods. It's not too far from Billy's," he shrugged as I huffed. "What? What happened?"

"I'll tell you what happened. Paul Lahote is a jerk who runs away every time we have an argument…"

"Paul never backs down from a fight… but he's a nice guy…"

"Right, I guess when he wants to be," I scoffed.

"Hey, I am a nice guy," Paul said standing in the backdoor. "You're the one who won't let me and is always questioning my motives."

"Do you have motives?" Seth piped up before I could ask, and Paul sent him a weird glare. "Oh man… Billy is going to kill you."

I squinted at them confused. Why would my Dad kill Paul? What kind of motive would he have to have for him to… "Wait! Are you… trying to get with me?"

"Whoa nooo! No," he took a step back into the wall. "No, I was trying to be nice. You were a customer and I was being a-"

"You've gotta-" Seth started.

"No, I've gotta do nothing. Nope. Nothing," he shook his head walking out of the house.

"But why not?" Seth called after him.

I watched silently as he left out the backdoor and followed Paul around to the front of the house. Both of them climbed into Paul's truck, and they were gone.

I moved to the backdoor, closing it and flicking the lock. I needed to a hang a bell or get some squeaky hinges or something….

….

Carol45: Hey, how are you? I was going to send in the cavalry if I hadn't heard from you by tomorrow!

You: sorry. Im better

Carol45: Where are you? Have you heard from him?

You: Im in my hometown. I was living with my dad but I bought a house. no signs of Doug.

Carol45: You bought a house? A real house with foundation and windows and carpet? !

You: no, there's no carpet.

Carol45: You bought a HOUSE? It took you two weeks to decide on a novel from the bookstore.

You: well I didn't want to commit myself to a bad storyline. It was a careful decision.

Carol45: I can't believe you bought a house. Are you really okay? Do I need to come rescue you?

You: Im actually good. I havent thought about Doug much and Im not drowning in depression or anything and you know I would love a real visit.

Carol45: you know I would be there in a minute if only the Man would stop pushing me down

You: keep fighting. You've got the power.

Carol45: you know it. ;)

Carol45: Ugggghhhh! The Man just tracked mud all in the house!

You: go kick his butt. I'll ttyl

Carol45: No!

Carol45: I can kick his butt from my desk. We can talk so more

You: No, I've g2g kick someones butt too. :)

Carol45: okay, I'll be here if you need me

I signed off feeling better like I always did. But of all of the troubling things in my life right now, only one of them was aggravating the hell out of me. I glanced over at the toolbox in the corner and the large frames that needed to be hung. To use the toolbox or not to use the toolbox – that was my question. Using it would mean that I needed Paul's help and not using it would mean that I was too afraid to. Using it also meant that – screw this. I was making too much out of this. It was a stupid toolbox. It didn't matter. I needed to get over myself.

I moved the frames around the room deciding how I wanted to arrange them and pulled out a hammer and some sturdy nails. My first attempt went badly as I hammered my thumb, but the other three were quite successful in my opinion. I stared at the new Van Gogh print I hung remembering the old one back in LA and wondering what Doug would do with it.

Shaking my head, I glanced out the window and I jumped, scaring myself. My little friend from the other day sat in the back yard, panting and scratching his ear.

"Hi…" I called out to him as I opened the back door.

He barked softly before popping up and made his way to me with his tail wagging behind him.

"Hello, you're not supposed to be here," I told him as I scratched his head.

He pawed at my leg and I realized he still had his bandage on. I caught his paw and gently removed it. Maybe that was why he was here? He licked my hand and quickly entered the house almost knocking me over.

"Hey you can't just-" I stopped when I saw him resting on the rug in front of the couch. I felt like it was useless to try and argue. But could I… really keep him? "I swear if you do your business inside this house, I'm going to make Seth build you a doghouse, got it?"

He made a whimpering noise and thumped his tail once. I guess that was a yes.

…

*Squeak! … Squeak! … Squee-squee-squeeeeak!*

I watched as my new roommate chewed on his rubber newspaper. I had gone shopping to just get some dog food and a few treats, but a few other things kinda fell into the cart as I walked down the aisles of the pet store. A bed, bowls, toys… I felt like I bought half the store.

"Do you need a name?" I asked him as he continued his squeaking. "Do you even want a name?"

He stopped and tilted his head at me like he was considering something.

"What kind of name do you want? Spike – Lucky – Duke – Balto – Kujo?" I spouted off names as he went back to his newspaper. I looked up at the framed print and back to the large animal. "Van Gogh?"

He looked back up at me as if I had just spoken dog language to him.

"…Van Gogh?"

He barked and thumped his tail once.

"Alright, Van Gogh it is," I laughed. My life was absurd. I scratched his head and moved my hand down his back. I pulled my hand away as if I just stuck my hand in goop. "You need a bath…"

He stopped squeaking again and strained his ears. I did too and heard a car door shut. I peeked over the couch and saw the black truck in the drive way.

"Oh cookie crisps, you better hide," I jumped up and hurried to the front door. I opened it before Paul could knock and he looked up at me with a bashful look.

"Hey…"

"Hi, here's your toolbox," I bent down where I left it by the door.

"Right, thanks," he nodded. "But I also… came here to apologize. I'm sorry I… yelled… at you earlier. I should warn you – I'm told that I have a bit of a temper."

"Oh, I remember. I didn't call you Grumpy as a kid for nothing," I smirked.

"Right sooo I-"

I flinched from the loud bark behind me. Van Gogh was going to get both of his ears knocked off for this. Paul stood straighter peeking around me; his face fell as soon as he saw Van Gogh.

"You've got to be kidding me…"

AN: just going to tell you now, Carol is someone we know and it will be obvious who it is in the next chapter or maybe the next... : )

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