Author's Note: Okay, so I last updated with a long chapter because I hadn't updated in awhile and felt I owed you that. However, I didn't take into consideration the many trips and activities I would be doing shortly after. So no, I have not abandoned this story. But I've only been home (and within reach of a computer) for about 2 days since my last update... I'm trying here, but I'm SO BUSY! So thanks for bearing with me! Also, I've been asked to add more of Paige's home life - the reason I haven't until now is that her home life is pretty boring - but I'd been planning this for awhile. I'd also like to thank again my REVIEWERS! So thanks!

Gym became my hardest subject.

I was still stuck with Matthew Black as a partner - and so, whenever it became impossible to ignore him and him me, we exchanged quick, jerky phrases, and I glared disdainfully at him whenever our eyes met.

I still felt nothing, and not just for my gym partner. I felt nothing for anybody or anything; no fondness, nor pain, nor love, or hope, or disappointment, or sorrow - only that deep, resounding, almost painful emptiness, struggling to keep the outer wall - the wall of emotions; of my heart - out of my heart. The emptiness was winning.

It wasn't that I didn't care about homework or friends or anything - I still did my work and got decent grades - it was just that I didn't feel any motivation or particular joy or disappointment when it came to anything regarding any of them or anything anymore. I still went to the occasional party, still went out and talked about stupid, shallow, unimportant things - but I didn't audition for or go to our school's play, which was a big deal for me. My heart was swollen and numb, but not sorrowed. I refused to let it become remotely sad.

Hours turned into days; days turned into weeks; weeks turned into months. Nothing changed.

"Paige?" My aunt called from the kitchen as soon as I stepped through the door. Odd. I hardly ever saw Cynthia Hayes, my aunt, legal guardian, and housemate, on the weekdays. She slept in the mornings while I was sat through school. She went to work every afternoon at the hospital, (she was an office worker there) and went out almost every night, so she was rarely home before I went to bed. I was used to finding and utilizing an empty house. Having her there practically felt like an invasion. It was the first shadow of a feeling I'd felt in months.

"Yeah?" I asked, finding her. She was sitting at the kitchen table alone, sipping a hot chocolate. It was a cold January afternoon, "You're home early."

"Yep. Well, I had off today. And I thought we'd - er - hang out."

I raised my eyebrows skeptically, "Really?"

"Yes."

"Cynthia, come on. What's really bothering you?"

"Oh. Nothing. Well, something actually. I don't know - I just feel so paranoid lately," she attempted to laugh breezily, but her tense intonation wasn't very convincing. Her deep brown eyes darted around the room nervously.

"What do you mean?" I asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Well - I know it's silly -" she brushed her hair out of her eyes and attempted to look sheepish, "But I swear when I get home every night - well, I feel like I'm being - watched."

"Watched?" I asked indifferently. I studied my thirty-two-year-old aunt. I'd always had to admire her; for my entire childhood, I'd thought she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen. She really was stunning; she was thin, but not overly so - tall, but not too tall. Her fabulous, shoulder-length hair was strewn with streaks of varying shades of red, brown, black, and blonde. She pulled it off well. She had a gorgeous, wrinkle-free, heart-shaped face. It was no wonder she was always invited to social events, and was never found wanting on dates.

Of course my opinion on her looks had gone way down since seeing Lorraine and Matthew Black.

I felt a pang against my heart's wall at the thought. Why did she have to remind me of them? Not that I cared. No, I thought, mentally erasing the pang - I didn't care.

I hadn't seen my aunt for more than a cumulative half hour in weeks, (when she didn't go out on weekends, I shut myself in my room) but I noticed now that there were a few subtle differences in her appearance. She'd always been carefree and trusting - now I saw shadows of worry on her face. Her hair was a little less perfect than usual, and her clothes were somewhat wrinkled and way less fancy than what she usually wore.

"Yeah. I'll admit it - I'm worried that I may have a stalker," she watched my face and continued earnestly, "I know what you're thinking - that's ridiculous, that only happens in movies, blah blah blah. But whenever I get home at night, when I enter the room, I feel like someone just left it. And like I said, I feel like I'm being watched all the time - but only when I'm home. I swear one night I even saw - a - a glimpse of a figure on the stairs," she interpreted my indifferent look to be one of doubt and laughed at herself, "You're right, it's stupid. It's just been going on for months now and I keep trying to tell myself I'm being stupid, but it's not as if I could tell anyone else without being regarded as crazy. I suppose I've been watching too many horror movies, "she sighed.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, making myself chuckle.

She laughed, "Wow, you have no idea how much better I feel getting that off my chest. It's been slowly tearing me apart at the seems - but saying it aloud, well, yeah. Thanks Paigie."

I rolled my eyes at my childish nickname, "Yes, because I did so much." She smiled.

"Yes, you did. Well, Paigie, I did clear my night's schedule. Do you want to do something? We haven't really talked much in a long time. The last time I took you out, we went to the zoo, do you remember?"

"Yeah, I do." It had been about three months after I'd moved in with her.

"Wow, you've grown up fast. Well?"

"Oh - uh - sure."

This night was sure to be interesting.

"Well, you're too old for the zoo - where do you want to go?"

What could get me out of talking?

"A movie?" I suggested.

"But you can't talk during a movie. Let's go out to dinner for sure, and then how about we go shopping and then how about we buy a new movie to bring home and watch. So we still get your movie seeing done. Sound good?"

Her tone made it obvious that I didn't really have a choice.

"Sure."

"Good. Well then, let's get ready."

I sighed, "Okay."

We both went to our rooms. I threw on a nicer shirt, ran a brush through my hair, and knocked on Cynthia's door.

"Ready?" I asked.

"No!" She threw open the door and looked me over, sighing. Her hair was up in a fancy arrangement and she was halfway into a tight black dress.

"Oh come on! We're going out! You look like you just got home from school."

"I did just get home from school."

"But now you're going out. Change, please. I've told you a million times, it's best to always look your best. You never know who you might meet."

She shut the door again.

After changing twice more and letting Cynthia touch up my makeup and do my hair, we were set and we finally left the house.

"So where do you want to eat?" she asked once we were out on the town, (she insisted on walking) "Is Dairy Freeze still your favorite? I mean it's not that fancy but-"

"No. I don't like Dairy Freeze anymore," I said stiffly.

"Oh. Well, okay. Good. We can go somewhere better. Damn. You're too young to get into Mitty's. How about Pioneer Grill or Betty's Kitchen?"

"Pioneer Grill."

"Sound good."

"So... what made you change your high opinion of Dairy Freeze?" she asked after a walking in silence for several minutes.

I internally groaned.

I externally shrugged.

"Well come on; there has to be a reason."

"Grew out of it I guess."

"I thought you still loved it - didn't you go out there several times this summer?"

"Yeah."

"So what happened?"

I shrugged again, and Cynthia rolled her eyes and threw up her hands in exasperation.

"What the hell? You are never this quiet and hard to get information out of," she studied my face and slowed her pace, her face and tone becoming deadly serious, "...Or this serious and depressed. What happened?"

I sighed, "It doesn't matter."

"Something did," she said, nodding at my vague confirmation, "I cross my heart and hope to die I won't tell another soul as long as I live - or however that's supposed to go," she promised, holding a hand up.

The corner of my mouth twitched, "I don't remember. But that's not what I'm worried about."

"Than what are you worried about? I can actually be trustworthy, you know."

"Yeah. Well, it's - er - I don't know. I guess I'm embarrassed too." I crossed my arms.

She groaned, "You are killing me here! What happened?"

"Well, there's this guy..." I started, smiling a little at my aunt's reaction.

"Ah," she said, throwing her head back and rolling her eyes, "I knew it. They cause all the problems in this life, don't they? Well," her eyes found mine again, "Which guy was this?"

I hadn't originally intended to tell her anything at all about Matthew - but for some reason, being around her made me feel very at ease - perhaps it was because everything about her was warm but brisk - and so I figured I'd tell her a bit - a very little bit - of the truth.

"Well, he was great. Best-looking guy I'd ever seen. And the best personality too. Anyway, we - he - sort of broke up with me in Dairy Freeze."

"So were dating?"

"Uh - sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Well we hung out in gym and English and talked all the time. But we never went on a date or even talked outside of those classes. But then one day he invited me to Dairy Freeze, and, well, sort of told me he didn't want to be my friend, and had only been being nice by talking to me."

I felt humiliated getting the words out. Why had I suddenly felt the need to tell her nearly everything?

"Okaaaay..." she said, obviously confused, "So that was painful? This seems weird - why would he have to drag you to Dairy Freeze to tell you he didn't want to be your friend - which by the way, seems extraordinarily junior high to begin with? It just doesn't make sense. And why does that make you not want to go to Dairy Freeze? Because of humiliation at his juvenile behavior? I guess I just don't get it."

"Uh... yeah." My face burned. Of course my reaction had been ridiculous. Of course I was stupid; who else in the world would become so obsessed over a guy so quickly - and one who obviously had not felt the same way?

"Wait," Cynthia said slowly, scrutinizing my face, "Did you have feelings for the guy? He seems like a real jerk..."

Her tone implied that I had been foolish to acquire feelings for him, that I should have seen he was a jerk and somehow stopped the feelings I'd had, thus preventing the whole Dairy Freeze episode.

"Well, yeah, I kinda did." I admitted, in an almost-rude tone. It felt almost like a necessity to tell someone, anyone, finally - and also, her tone was angering me, thus egging me on.

"Oh," she said, clearly taken aback. The air suddenly seemed tense; Cynthia was offended for some reason beyond me. I was extremely annoyed.

"Actually, I really did," I continued in the same defiant tone, "A lot. And if you'd been in my place, you'd have felt the same way. Apparently he'd seen or sensed my hopeless crush on him and felt the need to tell me the truth. Whatever. I don't really care."

"I see. What was this kid's name?"

"Matthew Black," I all-but-snarled back at her.

She started in complete surprise, all traces of challenging hostility and superiority suddenly gone.

"Matthew Black? As in a relation of Renesme and Jacob Black?"

"Yeah," I said carefully, surprised by her sudden change in attitude, "They're his aunt and uncle."

"Oh," she said, this time as lightly as possible.

"Why?" I asked, "Do you know them?"

"Uh," she began evasively, "Yeah, I've seen them around."

"And?" I pressed.

"Well, you know. Have you seen them? I mean, it's no wonder you fell for their nephew. I don't blame you."

"A second ago you did. And no; I haven't seen them."

"Well - Renesme Black is breathtakingly beautiful," she admitted begrudgingly, "Actually, those words are an understatement. I didn't know it was possible for anyone to look that beautiful, but she does. I used to turn guy's heads. Now, if she's in a place, guys pay zero attention to me. Nobody does. It's terrible. And she's married for crying out loud. And Jacob Black - wow. He's not at all as inhumanely good-looking as she is but - he looks about twenty-seven. He's tall - one of the tallest men I've ever seen in my life. And he's so muscular. Tall, dark, and mysterious doesn't even begin to cover him. He's so dark, and quiet, and rough, and masculine. Ugh. You should see him. Such a shame he's married. And of course he'd get her. But they're stuck up and snobbish anyway, so it's no wonder that their nephew is too. Sorry you got mixed up with them."

I was surprised, but had no doubts that we were talking about the same family. I had to wonder though, how exactly my aunt knew the Blacks.

The rest of the night passed without anything major happening. We went out to eat, we watched a movie, and we talked about silly, shallow things. We caught up. My aunt was cooler than I remembered.

Overall, it was a good night.