A/N: Um...um...*facepalm.*

Okay, go back and see where last chapter ended, because I screwed up with it and then replaced it with a shorter one so I could re-do the second part right here. Sorry about that, long story filled with not-worth-half-a-crap excuses, so we'll skip it, but basically, yeah. I screwed up like I haven't since I was eleven (well, with regards to my writing, anyway) and now I'm flipping it on you, my poor innocent readers who did nothing to deserve it...

I humbly apologize. (Bows.)

And know what I'm even more sorry about? Not updating in forever. I am so...so...so...sorry. See, what had happened is, I figured out how this story ends. And it was kind of like reading in that now that I knew how it ended, I had to wait before I was ready to read it again, except...I don't know. I'm sorry. Please forgive me.

Chapter Notes: I had to write in Sam's POV for this one. I didn't think I would like it, but I turned out to love it.

Also, I think I'm gonna have to cut down on Rory's "inner voices." It's fun to write, but I feel like it's a bit distracting from the rest of the story. Maybe it can just by a little thing I break out when Rory's feeling stressed. Let me know how you guys feel about that, unless you're going to deny me reviews because of the long wait. Whatever.

Ah, yes. Anyway, again sorry, and as always, I don't own Twilight.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"Headache?"

I turned around, my hand still in the medicine cabinet. It was my mom.

"Oh. Yeah."

"Sorry to hear that." She didn't sound sorry. She had her business voice on. My mom wasn't a cold person, she was just...focused sometimes. Now was clearly one of those times.

"Rory. Sit."

I sighed and sat down, wondering what was coming up.

"It's time we talked about your education."

Ah. So that was it.

I immediately rattled off my plan. Summer school class, independent study, so on. You remember.

"Sounds good," she said when I was finished.

"Um...yeah. Thanks."

My mom and I didn't talk a lot. It was kind of awkward.

"Now, let's talk about college. I was thinking you could go to S.W.U., because-"

"Wait, wait, wait-college?" When was it decided I was going to college?

"Yes, Rory-did you think you were going to stay here and lay around all day?"

"What? No!" I snapped indignantly. "I thought I'd, you know...get a job...?"

"You're barely fourteen!"

"I'm almost fifteen!" I answered. "And I could work here-I already do, don't I? What's a few more shifts?" I couldn't help but think that a few more shifts=sore feet, but I chose not to voice this concern at that particular moment, taking my preference of sore feet over college into consideration.

"Okay," she said. "Fine. Fine. But if you stay here, you're paying rent!"

"Paying rent? I'll pay rent when you pay me for waitressing!"

"That's your responsibility as a member of this family!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, you seem to be running the family like a business. So maybe I quit-it looks like my benefits package just fell through."

Whoa. That was a good comback, I noted.

Shut up! Pay attention.

Right.

We stared at each other for a few more moments before I got up and went upstairs.

"Well, you haven't made it to a retirement, if that's what you're thinking!" she shouted after me.

0o0o0o0o0o0

I stayed up there for about an hour, alternating between trying to come up with an idea as to what I was going to do about the current situation, and doing random crap to distract me from that, hoping to give the idea center of my brain a break. That random crap consisted of reading Harry Potter, and staring at my ceiling and picking out images from the bumps in the plaster. I was screaming about the graveyard scene in Goblet of Fire when I heard a voice outside my door.

"Okay, fine. You talk to her."

My mom came inside.

Knock much?

Okay, who says that? You've been watching too many nineties sitcoms.

"It's your brother." she told me, handing me the phone. I was extremely tempted to ask "Which one?" but it's not like I didn't know, so I just brought the phone to my ear.

"Hey, Danny."

"Hey. So you don't want to go to college?"

"Well, I mean, maybe eventually, you know? Just...not right now."

He didn't answer for a minute. "Oh, sorry. I was nodding, I forgot I was talking over the phone."

"Moron."

"Your face is a moron. So, you wanna move in?"

I blinked. "What now?"

"I asked if you wanted to move in with Whitney and me."

"Wha-yeah, are you sure?!"

"No. Just kidding, we want you to run away again."

"Not funny, Danny."

"Oh, lighten up! Hey, let me talk to mom, I gotta make sure it's okay with her."

"You haven't asked her?!"

"Rory," he said slowly. "Think now. Do ya really think she's gonna say no?"

"...Point taken."

* * *

Danny set down the last of my boxes in the spare room.

"There," he panted. "Geesh. If we had a yard, and if that yard wasn't an ocean under the grass that would get everything wet, I'd say you should have a yard sale, because you have a LOT of crap."

"Yeah, well, your mom."

"We have the same mom." he retorted, nudging a box with his foot more to the left of the room. Earlier, I'd asked him why he was being so OCD about which side of the room the boxes were on, and he'd answered, "Oh, look, the thing-it fell," and ran off, all while Whitney hummed happily, making dinner in the kitchen. She'd offered to help, but Danny had asked her to make dinner for us instead-secretly, I wondered if maybe he wanted her to get more practice. From what I'd learned in the past few days, which had been "moving days," I'd learned that Whitney couldn't cook to save her life, which, I'm not going to lie, was more than a little comforting, considering that she could do everything else.

But anyway, Danny's boxkicking reminded me of his previous squirrelly-ness, and so I glared at him.
"Yes?" he deadpanned.

"Seriously. What's up with the boxes?"

"Well, I have this sister who doesn't want to go to college-"

"Danny."

"You're sharing it, Ror."

For some reason, it made me laugh. "With who?"

"A five-year-old Russian girl named Natasha."

That made me laugh harder, and I still didn't think it was funny. I wasn't, you know, mad or anything, I was just a little stunned.

"How is that funny?" Danny asked me incredulously.

I swallowed my laughter. "It's, uh, it's not. So...you're...fostering? Adopting? Kidnapping?"

"Adopting."

"Oh...congratulations..."

"Yeah. And we were thinking that you could, you know, take Russian classes at community college...we are, too, you know, because I think she speaks a little bit of English but not all that much."

"Have you met the kid?"

"Nope. Whitney's flying over to get her in two weeks."

"Okay." I said.

"So, you aren't...mad?"

"No...not, not really...a little shocked, but not mad...you could've mentioned this before I moved in."

"Why? Changed your mind?"

"No! I just...don't like surprises. You know that."

"And you know that I'm a wuss. Come on! I wanted you to move in." He grinned conspiratorially at me. "And you know, don't tell the others, but you were always my favorite."

I grinned despite myself. "Danny, I'm pretty sure they know, considering every time they tick me off you say 'that's why I like Rory better than you.' But I appreciate and reciprocate nonetheless."

"True."

"DINNER TIME!"

The smiles slipped off both ours faces simultaneously.

* * *

I slept on an air mattress that night, except for the sleeping part. That never happened, there was no sleeping. Because after the shock wore off, the worry set in. The one girl in the world who never wanted a sister was getting one. Well, niece. Close enough, though, we were sharing a room. As the only girl in my family, I'd never had to share a room before. It sounded stupid, but what if I didn't know how? There were no classes the teach me that.

The next two weeks passed without event. We unpacked my stuff and got me moved in, decorated the other side of the room, and still couldn't sleep. If I wasn't worrying about the little Russian girl who I would be now sharing a room with, I was worrying about Seth. I hadn't spoken to him since he asked me out; I wondered if we'd ever speak again. The idea that our friendship was over almost sent me into a full-blown panic attack. I called him every day, but he never answered. I did once get ahold of Leah, but our conversation was sort of cut off short.

"Hello?"

"Hey...Leah?"

"Who the Hell is this?"
"Rory."

"Why are you calling this number?!?"

Long pause. "I wanted to talk to Seth."

"Oh, NOW you want to talk to Seth? Well, let me tell you something, you stupid little-"

"Leah?" I heard someone in the background say. "Who are you talking to?"

"Uh, no one, Mom." Leah's muffled voice answered.

"What did they do?"

"NOTHING! Gosh, I'm nineteen years old, can't I have any privacy?"

"Well, yes, but I thought I taught you better than to speak to people like that."

"What's going on now?" My heart skipped a beat as a I heard an all-too familiar voice come into the conversation. Seth. My heart broke as I heard how depressed he sounded.

"Nothing, Seth." Leah said. "Fine, fine. I'll be nice, Mom." She came back on the phone.

"I'm not interested in anything you're selling right now." she said, malice dripping from every syllable.

And that was the end of that.

* * *

(Sam's POV)

"I'm worried, Sam," Sue told me in hushed tones. "She didn't mean to, but that girl just about killed my son. He just mopes around all day. He went to bed at around six last night and didn't get up until almost noon."

"I did that when I was fifteen too, Sue."

"Sam, he's not eating."

"...This is serious. Put him on the phone."

"I'll try." Long pause.

"Hello?" Seth asked. He sounded nothing like Seth, the youngest, most enthusiastic member of my pack; he sounded...dead.

"Seth?" I asked after a moment. "Are...you okay?"

"No."

"Listen. Your cousin must have turned me down fifty times before she finally caved. I know what you're going through, alright? It's not over."

"That's different. Of course she didn't want to go out with you. You'd just..." He paused and I guessed that Leah must have been in earshot, because all he said was "She had a reason."

"And why wouldn't this girl-"

"Rory."

"Rory have a reason?" I pointed out. "Maybe she's not allowed to date. Maybe she doesn't want to date until she's older."

"Bullcrap." He deadpanned. "It's not like I just met her, Sam. You haven't met her, or her family."
I sighed as Emily tapped my shoulder. I turned around and she held her hand out expectantly.

"Talk to Em, okay?"

"Fine."

I handed the phone to Emily and she held it to her ear.

"Seth, she said, "She's probably afraid." Pause. "Think about it. When you imprinted on her, it didn't only affect you-it affected both of you. It changed both of you. And you, at least, know why. I mean, I get why you wouldn't tell her right off the bat, but she doesn't know why. She just knows that all of the sudden..." she paused and looked over at me. "All of the sudden, she wants to be around you all the time. And it hurts when you aren't there." She went back to staring at the wall. There was a long pause.

"No, Seth." she said. "I don't think it's a mistake-no, I know that-well, scientifically, there shouldn't be werewolves OR imprinting." she shook her head.

"Funny. I never thought you were a quitter." Pause. "You heard me. You get turned down one time and run away with your tail between your legs, no pun intended. Come on, kid. Be fair, give the girl some time. And since when have you listened to Leah's advice?" Another pause. She smiled. "See, that's the Seth I know. Good luck, okay? Okay. Love you, bye." She hung up and smirked at me.

"Told you I could get through to him better."

"Okay," I wrapped an arm around her and grinned. "You win."

* * *

(Seth's POV)

As soon as Emily hung up, the phone rang again. I checked caller I.D. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the number.

"Are you psychic or something?"

"Weirder things have happened, wolf-boy." Rory responded. "I've been trying to reach you all week, where've you been?"

"Um...busy."

"That's bullcrap. You've been avoiding me, Seth Clearwater. Is it..." she trailed off, but it wasn't hard to know what she was thinking.

I sighed. "Well...listen. Can we talk face-to-face? I can be at your place in twenty."

"Um..." she said. "I kind of have a new crib now."

"...Crib?"

"I moved in with my brother-"

"No, wait..." I interrupted. "Crib?"

She cleared her throat. "Uh, yeah. Moving on. I live in those apartments down by Port Angeles now."

"Ooh. Swanky."

"Yeah, Danny always was one for aesethetics. And apparently Whitney's ballet students' parents pay through the nose."

"Hm. What about Danny?"

"Right now he's a freelancer. I think he's got a commercial for some new cereal that will benefit the dentists almost as much as it does him."

"Cool. I'll be there in...I don't know how long it takes to get there, but I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Kay, it's 308, you have to buzz in first."

"Gotcha. See ya."

"See ya. Oh, and by the way, Seth?"

"Yeah?"

"...Um...I missed you. Just, if you were wondering."

My smile, if possible, got even bigger. "Thanks, Rory. I missed you too."

"Thanks. See you later."

"See you later."

Click.

Ten minutes of begging, pleading, and negotiating for a ride, I was in the car with Leah sitting behind the wheel, complaining as usual about how she had to drag me everywhere, blah blah blah.

"I know, I'm lucky to have such a great sister, I don't know what I'd do without you," I said mechanically when she paused to take a breath. She didn't acknowledge it in words, but she did cool off a little after I said it, which is all you can ask for with Leah, anyway.

"Thanks, Sis, you're the best," I said as she came to a stop in the parking lot of Rory's apartment building.

"Yeah, yeah, have fun." she said, sounding bored. "Get out."

I obliged.

I walked into the lobby. It was quiet, too quiet, like a ghost town, or a doctor's office. Completely opposite of everything I associated with the person I'd come to see. I walked over to the front desk, thinking, as I noticed the look that the receptionist that perhaps I should have worn a shirt for this.

"Can I help you?" she snapped.

"Um...yeah," I said. "Hi, I'm Seth Clearwater, I'm here for Danny Swiston."

She glared at me. "There's no Danny Swiston here, you hooligan. My goodness, you kids spend too much time playing video games, you can't even come up with creative pranks. Out of my lobby! OUT!"

"Uh, wait!" I put my hands up in a gesture of defense. "Try Whitney Swiston."

"No, there's no Whitney Swiston. OUT."
I sighed and went outside, leaned against the wall under the awning, and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket.

Someone answered on the second ring, but it wasn't Rory. "Hello!" a soprano female voice said, sounding strangely excited to talk to whoever was on the other end of her phone. "Who's this?"

"Um...Hi, this is Seth Clearwater, is Rory there?"

"Oh!" Recognition filled her voice. "You're Seth. Yeah, Rory's told me a lot about you." I smiled at this. "Hi, I'm Whitney, Rory's sister-in-law, I don't know if she's mentioned me..."

"Uh, yeah, yeah, you married Danny, right?"
"Yes, I did. Lucky me," she said dreamily. "Oh, sorry. Let me get Rory for you."

"Thanks."

A few seconds later, Rory came on the line. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Seth. The receptionist yelled at me and told me to-"

"CRAP!" she yelled suddenly. "Stay where you are."

And then she hung up.

About a minute and a half later, I heard someone-Rory-shout something I couldn't make out, and turned around to see through the glass doors of the complex that Rory was currently sprinting across the lobby and shouting at the receptionist.

She burst out through the French doors, turned to me and grinned.

"Hey," she said, clearly out of breath.

"Hey!" Something in the atmosphere changed the minute I saw her face. Everything suddenly felt...right. "What's up?"
"Sorry, I..." she held up a finger, signaling me to wait while she caught her breath.

"You know, you should really work out more." I rolled my eyes.

She glared and waited a few seconds so she could say it without pausing: "You may want to rethink your wording, Seth."
I rolled my eyes again. "You know I didn't mean it like that."
"Do I?" she grinned. "Gosh, I missed you. Don't avoid me again, kay? It was boring without you."

"Thanks, I'll do my best. So, are you going to explain the receptionist's hostility, or what?"

"Oh, yeah." she rolled her eyes. "She's just bitter because she's like, seventy-three and never been married, which is fine, but she doesn't seem to think so, hence the bitterness." she shook her head. "But it's really my fault. I'm guessing you asked for Danny Swiston?"

"Um...yeah?"
"Yeah, it's actually Danny Nielson." she explained as we went inside. "Swiston's our Dad's name. Danny changed his when he turned eighteen. I'd do mine, too, but Mom won't let us, for some stupid reason."

"Ah." I realized that this wasn't something she wanted to talk about, and changed the subject. "So, what've you been up to?"
"Oh, you know," she said. "Moving, and...no. Just moving."

"How'd you get your mom to allow that?"
"Seth, my mom let me go eat breakfast with you the day after I ran away. I mean, really?" she sighed. "But yeah, it took some negotiating, but eventually she said that if I moved out, I had to find a job."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. Haven't found one yet, but I have until the end of the month. I still have time."

"Hm..."

"Yeah...oh, and guess what? Apparently, I'm getting a roommate. Danny and Whitney are adopting a little Russian girl named Natasha."

"Oh, yeah? And how do you feel about that?"
"Eh." she shrugged. "I mean, I'm not mad, but it's a little kid, which I'm not good with, and furthermore, it's a little girl, and having only brothers, I have no experience with that, and furthermore, it's a little girl who speaks an entirely different language."
"Wow," I said, "That's...quite a predicament."

"Yeah, thanks, Seth, very helpful."

"Um," I said, "You could try to think of it as a learning experience."

"Wow. Overused cliche of the year, much?"

"Oh, come on."

"Fine." she sighed. "So. Why, dare I ask, were you avoiding me?"

"Um..."

"No. No more stalling."

"Gosh, how much do you hang out around that crazy receptionist lady?"

"More than I'd like to, considering you haven't been around."

"Rory."

"I'm serious!" she said.

"I go down there to read because Whitney's always got music playing, choreographing for her students, it's sickening."

"Well, then."

"Come on. Staller."

I sighed. "Okay. Look. I was embarassed, okay?"

"Why? I'm not laughing at you behind your back or anything, come on, you know me. Plus, I don't have anyone to laugh at you with. I mean, not that I would, even if I did, but still. It's evidence you can't ignore."

"Okay, but that's like when they tell you it's okay to fart in front of someone because they're a doctor." "Lovely, Seth."

"I mean, they might not care, but you're still embarrassed."

"Aren't most fifteen-year-old boys supposed to find farts funny?"

"Well, this is what happens when you only have a sister and a mother."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Yeah," I said vaguely, trying to push the thought of my Dad out of my head. I looked down at Rory again, prepared to force a smile. I didn't have to. She made it easy.

"So," I said, "You and Danny are pretty close, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," she said. The elevator doors opened and we went into the hall. I followed her to her apartment as she said "He kind of raised me, you know? Cause I was eleven when Dad left, and he was seventeen. And mom was always working, so Danny was in charge most of the time. And I mean, Owen and Nate were always dog piling on me-I was kind of an easy target, I mean, I was the only girl, I was the only one with black hair-"

"I thought Nate had black hair."

"Yeah, well, he dyes it, cause he wishes he was cool, like me."

"Yeah, Rory, that's why."

She grinned. "Yeah, no, he just wants to be emo or something. I don't know." She shrugged.

We stopped in front of door 308 and she turned the handle and went inside.

"Whitney, Danny, I'm back."

The apartment was big, probably as big as the bottom story of my house. It was cleaner than most of my friends houses, but still had a warm, inviting aura to it. The couch was some kind of white leathery looking sectional, too big for three-or, I guess, four-people. It gave the impression that these were people who liked having guests over.

A blond woman stepped out of the kitchen into where we were now, which was clearly the living room. She was tall, thin, and obviously Rory's ballerina sister-in-law.

"Hi!" she said, stepping over to shake my hand. "I'm Whitney, we talked over the phone, remember?"

"Um, yeah, how've you been since then?"

She laughed. "I like him, Rory, he's funny. Good choice."

Rory blushed and sighed. "Whitney. I told you."

Whitney rolled her eyes and turned around to leave. "Deny it all you want, Rory! I'm gonna get Danny."

Rory, who had suddenly become very interested in her fingernails, stalked into the kitchen. "You want anything to drink?" she asked, clearly still irritated. I wasn't sure if her reaction to Whitney's implications were a good thing or a bad one.

"Um, yeah, water would be good."

"Okay."

She came back with two full glasses and set them on the coffee table, taking care to use coasters. "Whitney throws a fit when we don't use the coasters," she said. "She seems all mellow now, but she's really-" she glanced at the opening to a hallway, where Whitney was returning to the room, a tall, bleach blond guy in tow. "Really great. She's really great."

"Nice save, Rory," Whitney rolled her eyes. "Danny, meet Rory's friend."

Ah. So this was Danny.

I stood up. "Hi," I smiled. "I'm Seth."

"Seth," he said without smiling. "Hi. Nice to meet you." His tone did not convey the same sentiment that his words did.

"Oh, Gosh, Danny." Rory rolled her eyes. "I always hang out with guys. You know that."

"Yeah," he said, still eying me skeptically. "But I don't know. You didn't talk about Ellis like you talked about him."

"Hey, Danny? I think there's some dieing you need to do before noon, remember?"
He rolled his eyes. "Whatever, just telling it like it is." And then he left the room.

"Don't mind him, he's just overprotective," Whitney told me as she followed him.

I sat back down.

"My family," Rory told me, still red, "Is insane. I swear. When I was fourteen, my mom asked me if I was lesbian because I didn't have any friends that were girls."

"That's stupid."

"I know, right? I mean, what is so wrong about the fact that I find Tiger Beat magazine boring?" she sighed.

"So," I asked conversationally, "Who's Ellis?"
"Oh," she said, "He was my best friend in Florida. Now he's my email buddy."

I tried to hide my irritation at this as best I could, but apparently I wasn't as successful as I'd hoped, because she added "Of course, we both found new best friends."

"Who?"
"Oh, he hangs out with this guy who doesn't smile-"

"No, I mean, you."

She gave me a look. "Who do you think, stupid? You."

As weird as it sounds, I couldn't get those words out of my head for the rest of the day.

* * *

There you go. Eight pages long, I hope you like it.

Much thanks to the creators of Write Or Die, a website without which I would never have finished this chapter. And much thanks to all of you, who put up with my moods.