Hello, lovely readers. Thank you for returning and sticking with us (by us, I mean me, people I actually know who have to read this story, and the characters whose stories are not yet finished). I give you the POV so we can get to know the new girl and family moments galore. There's a reason this story is Jacob & Rosalie.

Adrian POV

I did everything very slowly that night. I was stretching out my conscious time before I went to sleep. Maybe I could get all of my thoughts out of my head now so they didn't keep me up all night.

So I ate my dinner in small bites, talking where I could with Kyle to create a longer meal.

And then I dragged my brush through my curls, working small section by small section.

And I took care in picking out my pajamas…

All the while one white grin was flashing behind my eyelids at every blink and a husky laugh rang in my ears. It was scary how I couldn't get him out of my head.

Almost like magic.

When I was little, I was obsessed with magic. I wore sparkly, pink wings to pre-school every day and searched the grass in the park for evidence of recent fairy visits. When no such proof was there, I would get discouraged and sometimes cry, but Mom or Kyle would tell me that they were just hiding, and they might be here another time.

Mom was always sick, but ever the naïve child I was, I believed the magic would make her better soon enough. Like in every fairy tale and story. But then she didn't, and I hung up my fairy wings for good. I learned that if you want happily ever after, you need to be prepared to work your tail off. That's what I've been doing since then. I swore off boys as soon as I started to notice them. I didn't want anybody's help. I needed to show myself that I could get myself whatever I wanted if I worked for it.

I didn't want to let some random boy ruin all my hard work.

Bells chimed and I flipped open my scratched phone.

I'm glad you didn't leave me hanging.

-J

Despite my thoughts from mere moments ago, I racked my brain to find an appropriately flirty response.

...0.0

Jacob POV

When I would run with my brothers, and their heads would be filled with thoughts of their imprints, it was so confounding to me. How can one person relate to every thought passing through your head? I get it now. I am lying in bed, and I can't sleep because I don't want to go eight hours without seeing her face even if it's only a mental picture. I keep moving my eyes to my nightstand where my phone is charging (God forbid it be dead when she texts me). I keep waiting for it to light up even though we exchanged "good night's" hours ago.

Everything I've done since I left her has reminded me of her. I was thinking about what she'd think if she had been sitting next to me when I pulled up to the house. I was thinking about how she would respond to Dad's teasing (Magnificently, I presume). I was thinking about whether she would like my mom. Speaking of her, I talked to Mom, and she already loves her (but mostly because she's not Bella).

Seriously though, Mom was overall happy for me. I had to explain to her what this means, and she got kind of emotional. All that empty nester stuff.

Despite my utter infatuation, I don't feel any different. I didn't undergo any huge identity loss. I'm just Jacob Cullen, but imprinted.

I talked with Bella for a long time. She was happy for me and told me several times. I didn't really know what I was. My mixed-up feelings had been clouding my brain for too long for straight thought. I had seen some of this in Sam's thoughts. Everything I feel for her is still there except for the desire. Even though I love her, it's being completely overridden by the imprint so all romantic feelings were eliminated. I still see the same girl I had ached over yesterday and everything I loved her for, but I don't want to be with her. If that doesn't make sense, that's okay because I don't fully get it all either.

One of the most familiar sounds of my life reached my ears- my mother's pumps walking with deliberate clack. She always makes sure I can hear her when she's coming to my room. It's so I can decide whether or not to close my eyes and feign sleep. Tonight I close my eyes and lie back out of pure curiosity for what she'll do when she thinks no one's watching.

I hear the door opening and two quieter steps towards me. I felt my recently cut hair being pushed back and the brush of cold fingers, one wearing a diamond that slightly scraped.

"I know you're awake, Jakey," she said.

I opened my eyes and found her topaz ones staring into them from above. She smiled warmly.

"Don't call me that," I grumbled, for the first time tonight realizing how tired I was. Thinking was easier than talking on good nights.

She raised one challenging blonde eyebrow.

"Don't call me that, please?" I tried.

She smiled and patted my leg, prompting me to scooch over. I complied and she sat down on the edge of my bed. She combed her fingers through my hair.

"I feel seven years old," I half observed, half complained.

She smiled again. I noticed it was nostalgic. "Sorry. I'm trying to fit it all in. I don't have much experience with human relationships, but I know the clichés. There's boy meets girl, but no mention of the mother."

"You raised me. Nothing's going to change that. You're my only-you're my mom."

I felt bad if it hurt her, but I couldn't change the fact that she was my second chronological mother. I didn't want to forget the original.

"I know. I'm not going to make you say I'm your only," she said. Mom looked around my room and bit her bottom lip, the only color on it coming from a tube. I recognized the look, but not on my mom. It was a classic Bella move. I almost laughed seeing it on her South Pole. I read it like a second tongue- she was biting back the words she wanted to say.

"Just spit it out," I said.

She looked at me and gave a bubbly laugh. "Very perceptive." Her focus was on my closed door. She murmured, "Your father is looking for me."

"Emmett. In here," she called. Unlike most vampires, my father did not move silently. I could hear his loud stomps on the wooden floors.

My dad came in, grinning as usual. "Stood up for my own son?"

Mom laughed. "Later, but first Jacob caught me in my own thoughts. I want you to be here for my confessional."

"Alright, but nothing discriminating about his old man, alright?"

"As if there was anything like that to be said," I said sarcastically. He ruffled my hair which had fallen out of style a while go in favor of a punch on the arm or shoulder.

"Okay. This is a big secret. Something I've been keeping for a very long time. It's something that I feel very awful about every day," Her voice was husky because I could hear that a giant lump had formed in her throat.

I was scared of what I was about to hear. Dad and I stared at her. The serious was frightening to us both.

"I did a bad thing, and my biggest shame is that I can't bring myself to regret the results. I wasn't justified to do it or make such a choice for someone else, but this sin has brought me more joy than I knew I was capable of."

"What did you do?" Dad and I asked simultaneously.

"Only two people know about this, and neither of them are you, Emmett." Dad raised his eyebrows with a hurt expression. "And that is only because I am too weak to admit my mistakes, not any reflection on you. You're too wonderful a man for me to deserve."

"What did you do, Mom?" I asked. My fear was escalating with every guilty word.

"I lied. To my family, my husband, and most importantly to you, Jake. There was no mother giving me permission to take you in her final moments. I tried to save your family. I was too late. There was not a living person at the scene. I was leaving, and I found you in the snow. Your mother, I think, threw you out of the car to save you as the car rolled down the hill. You were freezing so I took you to Carlisle."

I smiled, relieved, "What's wrong with any of that? I mean, I'm sure you weren't what Mom had in mind, but I don't think there was anyone better to find me."

She smiled sadly, "No, the shame there is limited. It gets worse. Before I handed you to Carlisle, I ripped off a hospital bracelet that was still on your wrist. It had your name which is why it's the same as the one your real parents gave you. With our connections, that and a clever story would have been enough to get you to your next of kin.

"That means no home-schooling, no moving, no secrecy, no vampires hunting you. Just a simple, human life in La Push. I'm sure you had some real family left. You would be in your home, your natural habitat, so to speak."

"Rose," Dad said, the name threaded with all different sentiments- disappointment, surprise, personal hurt (he didn't know about this either). But my father set aside any other words he wanted to say, and all eyes were on me, waiting for a reaction.

I didn't know what to say. I had thought about what it would have been like to grow up in La Push- a lot when I was living there. Mom thought that that would mean I could be blissfully undivided between Cullen and Black. I would never wonder who I was or where I belonged.

For a long time those questions had bothered me, but with this confession, I realize that I don't think there really is a question. I am who I am, and despite the difficulties that presents, it's unchangeable. I had never doubted who my parents were. What my mother was painting as difficulties was normal for me. And I felt so at peace tonight. I wouldn't choose any other path that didn't bring me to where I was lying in this bed.

"What's done is done," I shrugged, "I think it all worked out pretty well."

She stared at me, mouth agape. "You're not angry with me?"

"Well, we can't go back in time. It's pretty useless to be angry over the what might have been. I may have had a nice and ordinary life, but frankly, I doubt it."

"Jacob, I don't think you're getting everything you gave up because of this."

I was prickled by this. "Do you want me to be mad? I could be, if I really tried, but what's the point? Nothing is going to change, and I don't want to spend eternity mad over something that wouldn't have bothered me if I didn't know it. Okay?"

"Uh...okay. It's just that I've been holding this in for sixteen years. I didn't expect such...okayness. Please think about it, for me?"

"I'm fine," I grumbled. The more I said that, the more bristled I felt. I meant what I said, but I didn't like having this truth thrust upon me, sixteen years too late but far too early. I didn't like sitting in my childhood bed with my mom pushing my hair back. Normally I'd say I wanted to be alone, but I realized that I wanted Adrian here more than anything. It was as overpowering as it was surprising. The new reality of my desires set in.

"Good night, sweetheart," Mom said. She kissed my forehead and an uncomfortable feeling stemmed from my irritation. Then she walked out, avoiding looks from my father. I rolled over and forced all thoughts from my head so I could fall asleep quickly. But really, it's fine.

...0.0

Mom called off classes that day. I spent the afternoon in La Push fulfilling my promise that I would think about the meaning of what she told me last night. I took flowers to my family's grave and sat for a while. No revelations came to me so I took to walking around the reservation. This proved more…stimulating.

I walked past a lot of houses. It was a rare sunny day so there were a bunch of kids out. Kids playing baseball, roller-skating, riding their bikes, shouting at each other. I tried to picture myself among them, but it was difficult. I hadn't had a lot of playdates, and almost never with the same kid twice. We moved so much, and people could tell we were different. There would be a few here and there, and then spontaneous daycares because everyone agreed that a kid needs to talk to other kids. I got out more when I was older, and wary parents had less to do with my and other kids' social lives. But by then, no one really played anymore.

I tried to imagine me running out of the house to join my neighbors whenever the weather was good without needing introductions or schedules. I never knew any of my neighbors so instead I pictured the kids I would have known had I actually grown up here- the pack. It was kind of amusing. I couldn't separate the present from a childlike personality. I snorted at the idea of serious Sam getting into trouble like – one of my only references to real, neighborhood boyhood, and the image that kept popping up in my head- The Sandlot.

It had come out a few weeks ago that I still had family alive. My father had a lot of sisters, most of who had moved away. One lived here still with a husband and son (who was getting bigger every day so we see he inherited the wolf gene). I also found out that Quil was a second cousin which he reminded me of. A lot. Harry said that any family would have taken me in happily being the descendant of an important chief and the son of a beloved couple.

For a moment, I saw it. I saw me running out of my house to play football and running when it rained. I saw myself going to the tiny rez school and playing on the active playground. Then after school, my friends and I would go home. I pictured the kind face that I had seen in some pictures of my mother that Harry Clearwater had shown me. She looked like the type of Mom who would always have food waiting and never turn away a friend I brought home. I almost smiled at the very real picture. I relished the thought of bickering with my sisters the way my family does, with mutual love always under the surface. Lastly, I pictured Billy teaching me everything my father did- how to ride a bike, fish, swing a bat. For a moment, it was very real, and I almost longed. Almost. It was complicated. It isn't like I wanted my family to die so I could be Cullen. But I can't find myself wanting to never meet my adoptive parents. I loved them both, and though impossible, I wish that I could have lived twice so I could have the life I have and the one I'm picturing.

I felt selfish thinking these things. I'm not the first kid to be adopted. In fact, I'm lucky that I ever got to live where my parents lived and be a part of the Quileute community. And as far as adoptive parents go, I got as lucky as you could get.

I didn't like one of the facts of my whole life being wrong, but it had. Although the truth had changed, I was determined not to let the same happen to my love for my families old and new.

What? What? Continuity? In The Other Cullen? I wonder if anyone thought I forgot that Rosalie was hiding a secret, and Jacob had was aware that she knew his name before she gave him it (Does that make sense?). I don't know if this was clear but Book 2's end is a ways before Book 3's beginning so the moments mentioned involving Harry and Quil took place during that time and never made it into either story. Maybe I'll write a separate Outtakes Fic. Thoughts? Hmm, summer's approaching. Maybe after Book 4… I want to edit the chapters too once I figure out how. If anyone knows a simple way to do that, please message me because this story is betaless. Okay, I'm rambling.

Review please (: They mean so much. I don't know if I acknowledged the 200 mark, but….WOO! YEA! HEY-O! You are all beautiful in your way. Because God makes no mistakes. I'm on the right track, baby. I was born this way.

Okay, now I have to go. If you've read this far, you're a champion. Have a nice day.