4. DIFFERENT

ODDLY ENOUGH, I felt exhausted even though I have slept well in the past few days. I felt awful, too, almost hideous of myself when I looked in my reflection. I, of course, waved this off, trying not to worry about myself. Instead, I worried about Daiane and her plans to throw a party. Don't get me wrong, I wanted her to throw one. . . but who would come? I mean, let's face it: Daiane didn't have many friends. I didn't either, and so didn't Lidia. A part of me imagined that no one was going to come.

Daiane was enthusiastic about her idea. "I mean, no one's thrown one all year!" she squealed, bouncing on my bed.

I frowned. Today had been the first time in what seemed like weeks, that I had tidied up my room. Though one visit from Lidia and Daiane seemed to ruin my grand effort.

"Well, that's for sure," I said in a dull voice, not sure if I should voice my opinions. "It might be fun, I guess."

She gaped at me. "Might?" she asked in an offended tone. "It is!"

Lidia nodded along, thinking. "I think it is going to be fun. We can throw it at the beach, you know—more space, more people," she reasoned, smiling up at the both of us.

My chirpy friend clapped her hands. "Great idea!" she praised Lidia, smiling. I wanted to say something to wipe that smile off her face—I hated being around happy people when I wasn't in the mood. "Now, who should be the guest of honor—besides you two, of course. . . Aha!" She jumped up from my bed, and almost succeeded in dropping my organized stuffed animals.

Her sudden outburst made me jump back, startled. "What?" I asked, gritting my teeth. "Don't do that, please." I made a face.

Daiane rolled her eyes at me. "Stop being so moody," she complained. "Cheer up! I'm going to invite Paul, duh. Don't worry."

My face flushed. "That's not why—" I cut myself off, knowing that if I argued about anything relating to Paul Lahote, they would keep the subject up. I exhaled loudly, biting on my lower lip. "I'll stop being moody if you don't ruin my room." I huffed.

Lidia burst out laughing. "Alright, Miss Cleaners!"

Daiane joined in her laughter.

I rolled my eyes, the tips of my lips rising. "Ha. Ha. How lame."

They stuck their tongue out at me, making me do the same.

"It's official, then: Party time next week!" Daiane giggled, grinning at Lidia.

A groan almost escaped my lips. Unlike them, I wasn't really into crowded, loud places were people "partied". I'm always uncomfortable, which makes the fun go away. I knew that both my friends weren't happy with my wrinkling nose—they had stopped cheering to stare at me, and roll their eyes. I chuckled nervously when I saw Daiane's glare, and when I heard Lidia's huff. They should know though. I just wasn't a party person. Heck, I wasn't even a fun person. I hated wild stuff, like jumping off the cliffs, or driving a motorcycle.

In all, I was just a boring girl.

"Ana," Daiane began to whine. "C'mon! You're gonna like my party!"

"That's what you said for Dean's party." I retorted, flushing. That party had been humiliating; I had worn high-heels for my first time, and had ended up almost falling right in front of Jacob last year. That might be the reason why I don't wear high-heels. "Plus," I continued, "I don't like wearing dresses. Simple."

Lidia opened her smart mouth. "Then don't wear a dress. Wear jeans."

I cringed. I racked my brain for a comeback, and almost patted myself in congratulations. "I don't have new jeans—the one's I have are all worn out." I saw Daiane open her mouth, but I quickly added in, "And I don't have money to buy new ones, either."

Both of them huffed.

"Party-pooper," Lidia grumbled.

"Dumb ass," Daiane said, glaring at me.

I shrugged. "I'm still not going. Even if you two call me stuff. I, Ana Pamela Martin, will not go to the party," I said strongly, keeping a solemn face. "Sorry," I added in, for Daiane's benefit. "You know I don't like parties. . . I'd probably ruin it, anyways, if I go. Like ya' said, I'm a party-pooper." I laughed.

"Fine," Daiane grumbled. "Though you're gonna pay for it," she warned me, her face serious.

I raised my hands in the air. "Okey-Dokey." I grinned.

News spread across La Push's tribal school. I told a few people, like Kim O'Connor—a shy girl in my first period, English—and also Dean, and other people I talked to, which weren't a lot. I would blush when they would ask me when the party was going to happen—Daiane hadn't been very specific about that topic—or when they asked who was going. I knew I'd loose their interest when I'd shrug and say, "I don't know."

Guilt formed in my system. I had driven away customers from Daiane's party.

"So," an obnoxious voice said from beside me, while I walked to fifth period, Art. I was a bit angry with him for wanting to fight with John. I quickened my pace, moving my arm so I wouldn't touch his scorching one. "What's up? I heard there was this party. . . and you were inviting people."

I was almost surprised by the casualness in his voice. "Yeah," I confirmed. "I was." I had told all the people I knew about the party—and I wouldn't dare ask anyone who I didn't know. I was shy when it came to that. I acted all awkward and clumsy around new people.

"Was?" Paul asked. I looked up at him to see him with a raised eyebrow.

"Yep."

"Don't I get to be invited?" He smirked down at me, making me flush.

"No—" I cut myself off, a light bulb appearing on top of my head. Paul was rather popular—or I should say well known with the, um, ladies—and if I invited him. . . Daiane would be happy because if he went, then people like Elena Castle—who liked Paul, or was after him—would want to come. . . which would make other's come, seeing popular kids coming to Daiane's party. . . Damn, I'm so smart.

"Well?" he probed, still smirking.

I tried to smile sweetly at him. "Um, sure. Go ahead and come." My face flushed. "But if you want details, ask Daiane Nash—um, ya' know, my friend."

Paul nodded. "Why can't I ask you?"

"Because," I sighed heavily, "I really wasn't paying attention while Lidia and Daiane were planning." It felt odd admitting something like this to someone, much less Paul. "But it'll be fun, I betcha," I assured him, getting nervous, hoping he'd believe my words and not bail on Daiane's party. I mean, how many parties has he gone to? I estimated about. . . a lot.

He chuckled, taking me by surprised. It seemed like we were having a normal conversation for once. "I don't like parties," he confessed to me with a shrug. "Not my type of thing."

This time, the surprise showed on my face. My mouth fell open. "You don't?" I whispered, awed. "Wow, I didn't know that!"

Paul rolled his eyes at me, smirking. "Well now you do, Honey-Buns." He laughed at my distaste for the nickname. "Aw, cheer up, Ana," he complained once he saw my sour face. "It's Friday!" His enthusiasm took me by surprise.

I blinked a couple of times. "I'm talking to a different person, that looks like Paul Lahote, but isn't. . . right?"

"Nope," he said arrogantly. "This sexy beast is the real sexy Paul Lahote."

"You're not hot," I said in a hushed voice, blushing.

His smirked seemed more intent. "I'm Paul Lahote, the guy no one can resist." He winked at me. "See," Paul began arrogantly, "even my last name says I'm hot."

I raised an eyebrow, ignoring my hot face.

"La-hot-eh," he clarified. "Paul La-hot-eh?"

Thankfully, I managed not to show the smile. "You're not hot," I said stubbornly, crossing my arms and raising my chin up in the air. "You wish you were hot."

"Don't lie to yourself, Ana," he sneered, leaning down so his face was a couple inches away from mine—making my face flush. "I like good girls."

"I gotta get to class," I said quickly, looking down at the floor. "Bye."

"Bye, you fine lady," he said in a taunting voice. Then he was quiet for a moment, before saying, "You are fine, you know." He stared at me intently, making me shut up for a moment.

Before I could even utter a word out, he swiftly turned, and left. I wouldn't be the first to admit that his words were flattering. No guy had called me fine. I mean, it would have been much better if he'd said I was a pretty girl—though I think I carry Troll blood in my veins—or nice looking. . . Sadly, he called me fine lady. I think I would be fine with that; it was enough for me to smile goofily to myself, and enter my Art class.

Art class was the only class I was really good at. I loved to draw stuff. It made me feel free, almost. I wasn't the best, I knew that. Elena Castle was.

As usual, I sat in the back, away from her Non-Royalness. I sat down next to Dean, and he smiled at me politely, before going back to gawking at Elena. I turned to stare at her, too, and was amazed to see her glaring at me. I was confused; what had I done to her? Nothing. . . Wait! Had I made her hair messy, while I quickly rushed pass her ugly presence? Oh no!

"Why're you smiling?" Dean muttered under his breath.

I hadn't realized I had been, until he'd pointed it out. I wiped it off my face, flushing. "Um, I don't know." I said quickly, looking down at my desk. I kicked myself internally because I was such an idiot.

"Okay. . ." Dean said awkwardly.

My face heated. "Er, yeah. . ."

Throughout the class, I felt as though someone was watching me. I had an itching feeling that it was Elena, but then I would ask myself: Why would she be staring at me? I was nothing of value to her. I was no threat to her. I had nothing to give. I hadn't even taken anything away from her. So why the hell was she staring at me—no, no: Why was she glaring at me?

As the questions circles around my head, I found myself being uncomfortable. I hated being watched. Paul watching me seemed much different. Elena watching me was also rather different, and I wasn't at all flattered. I twitched a couple of times in class, and I was trying my hardest to focus on what Mr. Jones wanted us to draw for homework.

"Free time," Mr. Jones announced loudly, his voice cool. "Your welcome." He grinned.

"Good," Dean sighed beside me. Then I felt him tense, and I looked over at him to see him gaping at something, his mouth had fallen open and his eyes were wide. "Oh, h—hey E—Elena," he stuttered, his face darkening. I wondering if I looked like an idiot whenever I was nervous, too.

When I looked up, sure enough, Elena Castle was glaring down at me, some of her followers behind her, trying to look cool. I felt miniture compared to her, almost threatened. I looked around me desperately, seeking a way out of this little Chit-Chat I was sure to have in a couple of moments. Yet everyone seemed too preoccupied to even notice that I needed help from this female-dog.

"So," she drawled in a high-pitched voice, glancing at me with disinterest—well, nobody said she had to be interested! "You're Ana." She sounded almost disappointed, yet relieved at the same time. A faint, sweet smile formed on her lips.

"No duh," I said, pointing to the tag on my shirt I had clipped on in the beginning of class—Mr. Jones had us do this because sometimes he forgot our names. "How do you know my name?" I blurted out, sounding stupid.

Wow, I was such an idiot.

Elena glared at me. I was a bit awed at how pretty she was. I was a troll compared to her. This now made me feel self-conscious of myself, making me look down at the desk. I knew I was acting like a coward; but then again, I had never really said I corageous, or brave. I actually didn't know how to fight. I was a chicken, but I stood up for myself. Somtimes, when I had my best friends to back me up. Now, sitting here alone, against. . . seven people, I felt like a chiken.

She wasted in no time to get straight forward to the point, ignoring my question. "Paul's mine," she said in a certain, snotty voice.

I raised an eyebrow. Now I felt annoyed; and for two entirely different reasons. I was annoyed because everyone thought I wanted Paul. And then I was also annoyed because in reality, Paul wasn't her's. . . I felt a rush of anger when I heard the possessiveness in her voice.

"He isn't," I muttered quietly.

The beauty Queen laughed falsely at me. "Of course he is. You think he belongs to you?"

She didn't even let me answer, because she continued her speech.

"He doesn't," she sneered, flipping back some of the hair that were bothering her eyes, back. "He belongs and wants me. Do you hear me? Me, not you—but me." The words sliced deep into me for some unknown reason. I could feel the angry scowl disappearing from my face, being replaced by pursed lips. My lips had began to tremble.

"So?" I asked, trying not to make my voice shake. "I don't care."

Elena rolled her eyes, laughing once more. "Of course you don't. You're just some toy he wants to play with. In the end, he's gonna throw you out like a used rag doll."

"No—"

"Oh, but he is!"

I clenched my jaws. "No." I shook my head quickly, trying not to show my watery eyes. Had he confided this to her? "I'm not gonna let myself."

She hummed. "I'd like to see you try. How can somebody resist him? I really don't see why he looks at you. You're just pure, ugly crap that he's—"

That struck the nerve. "Shut up," I growled, glaring at her. "Stop insulting yourself."

Elena seemed taken aback. Seems like nobody has ever treated her with such, "disrespect". "Repeat yourself," she hissed.

I clenched my jaws. "What? Are you deaf now?" I faked a laugh. Now I was beginning to get nervous.

She opened her mouth, but the bell rang.

I wanted to kiss the bell.

And to think that I wanted to murder it in my first period, English.

She was still standing in front of my desk, I knew that, but I ignored her. I packed my stuff and didn't make it a secret that I didn't want to hear Elena. And I actually dared myself to walk by Elena, and smack my shoulders against her seemingly fragile ones.

I was proud of myself.

Ana Martin had stood up to the Beauty Queen. That's something to be proud about!

"I don't believe you," Daiane whispered to me in an awed voice as we walked home.

My brows furrowed. "Don't believe what?" I assumed she was talking about me standing up to Elena. This made me smile, and I prepared myself to tell a gland tale about the Wonderful Ana.

She proved me wrong. "You invited Paul to the party!" she squealed, and tackled me to a hug.

"Daiane," I whined, feeling my face heat up, and feeling weird—uncomfortable at feeling her arms around me. "Please stop," I almost begged. She was touching me.

Daiane flushed. "Oops," she said, while pulling away. I was glad that I had made her happy, but she could keep her body from mine.

Lidia grinned. "Now we're gonna have more people in the party!"

"Trust me," I said cockily, "you are. You're welcome."

We walked in silence, both Lidia and Daiane too happy to speak. I was okay with that; I understood their need to inner-dance in their minds. I tried to whistle like I've seen in the TVs, but found out that I suck at it. I could only do two, short tunes, before my whistle turned all raspy and airy.

"Is it true?" Lidia finally spoke up, flustered.

I looked at her, confused. "What?"

"You and Elena. . ." she trailed off, uncertain.

My face brightened. "Yeah," I said, nodding my head, proud of myself.

"Good job Ana Banana!" Daiane giggled, knowing I hated that pesty nickname.

I glared. "Don't."

Daiane merely stuck her tongue out.

"Oh," Lidia said absentmindedly. "What about?"

I bit my lip. "About Paul. . ." I trailed off, observing both their shocked faces. "Not the way you think," I added in quickly. "She thinks he's mine—which he's not—and then she called me stuff," I spoke out in a rush, getting angry. "Who the—"

"—hell does Elena think she is?" a voice snarled, ending my sentence.

It made me jump up, surprised. I turned around to stare at Paul, his face twisted in rage. "Paul," I said automatically, speechless. "Calm down."

He glared at me. "Don't tell me to calm down! She treated you like crap!" His trembling increased.

Closing my eyes and exhaling loudly, I took a cautious step forward. I remembered what Jared had told Paul last time; to calm down for me. I figured I'd use that exact same method now. Though I had no idea why it had calmed Paul last time. "Paul," I began warily, ignoring my friends for a little, "please calm down. For me."

Angry hazel eyes met mine. I held onto them, willing to coax them with my own green one's. It seemed to be working because he stared at me, his trembling decreasing, until he was shaking only a little bit. I was proud; both at myself and him. I had managed to calm him down, and he had succeeded to calm down.

"I should have ran away," he muttered to himself. "To the woods. . . but no! I wanna stay with her." He shook his head, not even realizing that I was listening in to his rambles.

Daiane tugged on my sweater, and mouthed, "We're leaving." And then winked. Lidia did the same, but didn't wink.

I hope they saw my glare.

"Well," I breathed when they were gone, staring at Paul uncertainly. "Did your girlfriend tell you?"

He looked offended? "Ha!" he barked. "That girl ain't nothing to me," he sneered, spitting at the ground. "She's nothing compared to you."

Paul stared into my eyes so intensely, I found myself unable to breath. My mind was questioning me; shouldn't I be leaving? He was okay, right? Was he playing with me, like Elena had said? As I thought of this, I felt my face harden, and my fist tighten. I looked away from Paul, and glared down at the ground.

My mouth opened, but he interrupted.

"I'm not playing with you," he sighed, sounding sincere. I looked up at him, frowning. "I would never do that to you. . . Heck, even if I did want to—which I don't—I can't. You're probably the first girl in like, ever, to actually catch my interest." He paused, his hazel eyes strong as they stared into mine. "Ana, that girl is insane. You, on the other hand, are rational. Better. Smarter. . . Prettier."

Heat flooded into my face. He couldn't actually believe that, could he?

I snorted. "I'm a troll—I guess I'm sort of smart. . . So I'm a smart troll."

He rolled his eyes, smirking. "So. . . we good?"

Pursing my lips, I shrugged. "I don't know, Paul."

"Well, why not?"

"Because," I sighed, "how would I know when to trust you?"

"I don't know. . . believe?" he suggested, his smirk falling. A frown replaced it.

"That's just it!" I exclaimed. "Elena said that you're just using me!" I was suddenly angry again. "Let me tell you, okay? I don't want to believe in your false, sweet words. I don't want to get hurt. I don't want to be drawn in. . . Just leave me alone."

"Just ignore her, dammit!" he bellowed, shaking. "She's a lying bitch, Ana!" When I didn't respond, he continued to speak. "You know what? Sometimes I wonder why you were picked for me. Imprinting is pure bull crap, and I wish I hadn't gotten you. Heck, now I wish I'd gotten Elena. You know what? She's a hella lot better than you," he sneered, anger swimming in his eyes.

This caused me to take several steps backward. I was surprised to see that the tears weren't forming in my eyes. Instead, my stomach was twisting and turning unpleasantly, and my heart was beating rather quickly at the moment. I hated him. I don't know why he used the word "imprinting" a lot, but the way he spoke of it right now made it seem like a curse. I stared at him, rarely blinking.

"Go to her, then," I whispered. "I don't need you, or Elena, or the who goddamn school." I snarled, clenching my fists. "And like I said last time: Go away from me."

But unlike last time, that I had to walk away from him, he walked away from me, his body shaking as he stalked towards the woods. I watched, not sure if I should be angry, or hurt, or just feel nothing. In the end, I decided to be angry—it was best to be angry with Paul, than to be hurt by him. I glared at his retreating back, wishing he didn't exist. Wishing Elena didn't exist. Wishing that all this drama wouldn't exist.

Then he stiffened.

I was tempted to turn away, and begin to walk, but his furious, alert voice stopped me, and made me pay attention him.

"Go home," he ordered, not turning to face me. "Trust me or don't trust me," he sneered, "but there's something dangerous lurking around."

And then he left me there, leaving me confused.

Though I wasn't the one to follow orders, I felt the change in the atmosphere; something like a warning, told me to go home. But I didn't want to give Paul—whether it be the somewhat nice Paul, or the mean Paul—the satisfaction, and let him know that I was listening to him. So instead, I went to the local ice cream shop. I got myself some ice cream, and sat in one of the small tables like a loner.

Paul is gonna be pissed that I didn't listen to him.

Good, let him. I finally don't care.


A/N: Sorry for the delay guys :( I thought I wouldn't be able to update—my laptop was acting all funky on me. I was stressed out, guys o.O I wanted to update for all you wonderful people who are liking my story :D You don't know how happy I am! TWENTY ONE reviews for a chapter :o It amazes me. . . Thank you so much guys :') I really hope you all continue to like Dynamic. Action will begin soon, trust me. I just wanted to develop Paul and Ana some more. . . make their relationship seem more real, I guess?

Now, Paul is trying to act nice with Ana. As you can see, he thinks that by acting like a "different person", he will be able to get her easily. . . Eh, Ana isn't falling so easily xD She's a cautious, suspicious girl who agrees with, "It's too good to be true" saying. She can't, and won't, accept that a handsome guy is after her. . . I mean. . . He had yelled at her when they first spoke to one another. . . Also, Paul was so angry with Ana, he didn't want to face her. It took a great deal of effort to leave her. . . ;) He's his imprint after all, lol.

By the way, sorry if there was any mistakes. I'll come back to correct them :D And sorry if it didn't live up to your expectations /: The next chapter, 5. DOOM AND GLOOM will be good ;)

Anyways, thank ya'll for the reviews! Thank you, thank you, and thank you! Please give me your ideas on this story, and/or tell me what you want to see here. I might find a place here to squeeze in your guy's wanna-see-scenes :D It can be anything; family bonding, friend bonding, Paul/Ana bonding. . . or arguing ;D

REVIEW!