Disclaimer: I only own the plot and my OCs. Anything you recognize as not mine belongs to Stephenie Meyer and/or their otherwise respective owners.

Author's Notes: Hi, all! Here is the next chapter, as promised. Not much more to say besides that. I'll try to get chapter 8 out before the end of July, potentially sooner. Idk, we'll see.

I hope y'all enjoy, as always,

~TGWSI/Selene Borealis

~full moon~

~chapter 7: nightmare~

I told Nonna when I got home that I had a lot of work to do, and that I didn't want anything to eat. She was concerned about me at first, but I knew she could tell from my face and tone that she shouldn't prod too much. She told me to not worry about making dinner, that she had leftovers, or that she would order out pizza if she really wanted it. I tried not to feel too guilty about that as I headed up to my room and locked the door behind me.

Inside, I dug through my desk until I found my old headphones, and I plugged them into my little CD player. I picked up a CD that Phil had given to me for Christmas. It was one of his favorite bands, but they used a little too much bass and shrieking for my tastes. I popped it into place and laid down on my bed. I put on the headphones, hit play, and turned up the volume until it hurt my ears. Then I closed my eyes, except the light still intruded, so I added a pillow on top of face rather than getting up to close my curtains.

I concentrated very carefully on the music, trying to understand the lyrics, to unravel the complicated drum patterns. By the third time I'd listened through the CD, I knew all the words to the choruses, if nothing else. I was surprised to find that I really did like the band after all, once I got past the blaring noise. I'd have to thank Phil again.

And it worked. While my thoughts had been racing a mile a minute on the drive back to Mike's parents' stores, and then on my own drive back to the house, I felt drained. I didn't want to think about the subject anymore tonight than I already had, which was the whole purpose of this exercise. I listened to the CD again and again, until I felt like the lyrics were being seared into my brain and, at long last, I fell asleep.

All too quickly, though, I was opening my eyes to a familiar place. Aware in some corner of my consciousness that I was dreaming, I found myself in the same forest I had traversed earlier, the green light from the sun shining through the leaves all around me. I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks somewhere nearby. I knew that if I found the ocean, I'd be able to see the sun. I wanted to see the sun. I was trying to follow the sound, stepping forwards, pushing back twigs and making sure I didn't trip over any roots, but then Jacob Black was there. He was tugging on my hand, pulling me back towards the blackest part of the forest.

"Jacob, what's wrong?" I asked. His face was frightened as he yanked at me with strength that I couldn't believe he possessed, making it impossible for me to resist no matter how hard I tried; I didn't want to go back into the dark.

"Run, Bella, you have to run!" he whispered, terrified.

"This way, Bella!" I recognized Mike's voice calling out of the gloomy heart of the trees, but I couldn't see him.

"Why?" I questioned, still trying to get out of Jacob's grasp in spite of the futility, desperate now to find the sun.

But Jacob let go of my hand and yelped, suddenly shaking, falling to the dim forest floor. He twitched on the ground as I watched in horror.

"Jacob!" I screamed.

But he was gone. In his place was a large, reddish-brown wolf with black eyes. The wolf faced away from me, pointing towards the shore, the hair on the back of his shoulders bristling, low growls issuing from between exposed fangs. I realized that he wasn't the only wolf in the area, either. There were three more in the forest around us; it was hard for me to make out the details of them except for their broad forms and glinting eyes, save for one. He was black, as black as night, and taller than the rest. He almost seemed...familiar.

"...Sam?" I whispered.

Besides the swiveling of his ears, the wolf made no moves to signify that he'd heard me.

"Bella, run!" Mike cried out again from behind me.

But I didn't turn. I was rooted to my spot, watching a light come towards me from the beach.

It was Edythe. She stepped out of the trees, her skin faintly glowing, her eyes black and dangerous. She held up one hand and beckoned me to come to her. All of the wolves growled.

I took a step forward, towards Edythe. She smiled then, and her teeth were sharp and pointed.

"Trust me," she purred.

I took another step.

All of the wolves converged on her across the space between them, me, and the v – the cold one, their fangs aiming for the jugular.

"No!" I screamed, sitting upright in bed.

My sudden movement caused the headphones to pull the CD player off the bedside table, and it clattered to the wooden floor.

My light was still on, and I was fully-dressed in bed, with my shoes still on. A disoriented glance at the clock on my dresser told me it was five-thirty in the morning.

I groaned and fell back onto my mattress, then rolled over onto my face and kicked off my boots. I was too uncomfortable to get anywhere close to being able to sleep, though, so I had to roll back over to unbutton my jeans and shimmy them off awkwardly as I tried to remain as horizontal as possible. I could feel the braid in my hair, an uncomfortable ridge along the back of my skull. That had to come out, too. I turned onto my side to rip the hair-tie out, quickly combing through the plaits with my fingers. I pulled the pillow back over my eyes.

It was all no use, of course. Now that I was awake, I couldn't help but think again the same thoughts that I'd had yesterday on the way back from La Push – the thoughts that I felt like I'd thought a thousand times over.

I sat up with a sigh that made me feel like the teenager I was, and my head spun for a minute as the blood flowed downwards. First thing's first, I thought to myself, happy to give myself something to do and stave off the inevitable as long as possible. I grabbed my bathroom bag.

The shower didn't last nearly as long as I hoped it would. Even taking the time to blow-dry my hair, no matter how it wouldn't be good for it, I was soon out of things to do in the bathroom. Wrapped in a towel, I crossed back to my room. I didn't hear Nonna downstairs, which made sense. She was probably still asleep.

I dressed slowly in my comfiest of sweats and then made my bed – something I never did. I couldn't put it off any longer. I went to my desk and switched on the old computer.

I hated using the internet here. My modem was sadly outdated, my free service substandard; just dialing up took so long that I decided to get myself a bowl of cereal while I waited.

I ate slowly, chewing each bite with care. When I was done, I washed the bowl and spoon, dried them, and put them away. My feet dragged as I climbed the stairs. I went to my CD player first, picking it up off the floor and placing it precisely in the center of my right nightstand. I pulled out the headphones and put them away in the desk drawer. Then I turned the same CD on, turning it down so that I could barely hear it. It would serve me well as background noise.

With another sigh, I turned to my computer. Naturally, the screen was covered in pop-up ads. I sat in my desk chair, one that had seen better days even before Charlie had bought it a couple summers ago secondhand, and began closing all the little windows. Eventually, I made it to my favorite search engine. I shot down a few more pop-up ads before typing in one word:

Vampire.

Just typing it in made me cringe. I didn't want to believe it. There were reasons for why that was the case – but it wasn't because I was afraid of Edythe now.

Rather, it was because I was afraid for her.

But from the bits and pieces that I remembered of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it made sense. I didn't think that she and the rest of her family would burn up in the sunlight, but now that I recalled it, it had been sunny during one of the days where she and I hadn't been talking and neither her nor her siblings had showed up to school. I hadn't thought much of it at the time, because I had been trying (and failing) to ignore her existence at the time, this strange girl who had gone from cold to pleasant to cold again in such short notice.

She had a unique way of speaking when compared to our peers, older-sounding. Her skin was cold, freezing to the touch. She'd skipped out on blood-typing day with no explanation for how she'd known about it beforehand. And the changing of color of her eyes...

If the legend of the cold ones was true, though, and if my ancestors knew how to kill them so thoroughly...how could the rest of the stories not be true? Did the story of the Third Wife really happen? Were the Quileute people really descended from wolves? Had they really turned into wolves? Did some of us...do that still?

In a strange, twisted way, it made sense. When he'd broken up with Leah, Sam had undergone a change. He'd become taller, filled out. His skin was the opposite of Edythe's, searing and hot. Jared and Paul were the same way, but they hadn't been that way at Charlie's funeral. The changes they'd undergone could not easily be explained by a couple months of time.

And my dream. I wasn't one to ever believe in dreams having more meaning to them than being some conception of the mind, but besides Jacob, there had been three wolves in my dream. I had identified one as Sam. By that logic, the other two could have easily been Jared and Paul.

I felt like I was getting ahead of myself.

It took an infuriatingly long time to find what I wanted with my search. There were a lot of results to sift through – everything from movies and TV shows like Buffy to role-playing games, underground metal, and gothic cosmetic companies.

Finally, I found a promising site – Vampires A-Z. I waited impatiently for it to load, quickly clicking each closed ad which flashed across the screen. When the screen was finished, it revealed itself to have a simple tan background with black, academic-looking text. Two quotes greeted me on the home page:

Throughout the vast shadowy world of ghosts and demons there is no figure so terrible, no figure so dreaded and abhorred, yet dight with such fear fascination, as the vampire, who is himself neither ghost nor demon, but yet who partakes the dark natures and possesses the mysterious and terrible qualities of both. – Rev. Montague Summers

If there is in this world a well-attested account, it is that of vampires. Nothing is lacking: official reports, affidavits of well-known people, of surgeons, of priests, of magistrates; the judicial proof is most complete. And with that, who is there who believes in vampires? – Rousseau

The rest of the site was an alphabetized listing of all the different myths of vampires held throughout the world. The first I clicked on, the Danag, was a Filipino vampire supposedly responsible for planting taro on the islands long ago. The myth continued that the Danag worked with humans for many years, until one day when a woman cut her finger. The Danag sucked her wound, enjoying her blood so much that he drained her entire body of it, and after that the partnership ended.

I read carefully through the descriptions, looking for anything that sounded familiar, let alone plausible. I was looking for evidence. It seemed that most vampire myths centered around beautiful women as demons and children as victims; they also seemed like constructs created to explain away the high mortality rates for young children, and to give men an excuse for their infidelity. Many of the stories involved bodiless spirits and warnings against improper burials. There wasn't much that sounded like Buffy or the movies I'd seen, and only a very few, like the Hebrew Estrie and the Polish Upier, who were even preoccupied with the drinking of blood.

Only three entries really caught my attention: the Romanian Varacolaci, a powerful undead being who could appear as a beautiful, pale-skinned human; the Slovak Nelapsi, a creature so strong and fast it could massacre an entire village in a single hour after midnight; and one other, the Stregoni benefici.

About this last one there was one brief sentence:

Stregoni benefici: An Italian vampire, said to be on the side of goodness, and a mortal enemy of all evil vampires.

This entry made me release a breath I didn't know I had been holding. It gave credence to the most recent story of the cold ones, that not all vampires were bad or evil.

Overall, though, there was little that coincided with the Quileute legends or my own observations. Speed and strength, two qualities that I'd added, along with beauty, pale skin, eyes that shifted color, blood drinkers, enemies of the werewolf, cold-skinned, and immortal. There were very few myths that matched even one factor, let alone multiple. That was not mentioning a problem with sunlight, whatever it was. Even with the clouds, it didn't make sense to me for the Cullens to walk around during the day if they were liable to burning or turning into dust.

Aggravated, I snapped off the computer's main power switch, not waiting to shut down things properly. Through my irritation, I felt overwhelming embarrassment. It was all so stupid. I was sitting in my room, researching vampires, putting stock into the legends that not even the Chief's son believed. What was wrong with me? I decided that most of the blame belonged on the doorstep of the town of Forks – and the entire sodden Olympic Peninsula, for that matter.

I had to get out of the house, but there was nowhere that I wanted to go that didn't involve a three-day drive. I pulled on my boots anyway, unclear where I was headed, and went downstairs. With it now being nine-thirty in the morning, Nonna was up. She smiled at me over the blanket she was knitting. "Buongiorno, Bella," she said. "Avete dormito bene?"

"Sì," I said, not willing to divulge anything more than that. "Is it okay if I go out for a while, Nonna?"

She seemed surprised; I'd told her about going to La Push yesterday, but I hadn't made any plans for today. "Yes, of course," she replied. "Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

"I had some cereal earlier – I woke up early."

A smile graced her features. "So I thought. Just be safe, cara."

"I will."

When I got to the door, I shrugged on my raincoat and left without bothering to check the weather. It was overcast, but not raining yet. I ignored my truck for the time being, deciding that if I wanted to, I would come back for it later, angling across Nonna's yard towards the ever-encroaching forest. It didn't take long until I was deep enough for the house and the road to be invisible, for the only sound to be the squish of the damp earth under my feet and the sudden cries of the jays.

There was a thin ribbon of a trail that led through the forest here, otherwise I wouldn't have risked wandering on my own like this. My sense of direction was hopeless; I could get lost in much less helpful surroundings. The trail wound deeper and deeper into the forest, mostly east as far as I could tell. It snaked around the Sitka spruces and the hemlocks, the yews and the maples. I only vaguely knew the names of the trees around me, and that was only because of Charlie pointing them out to me over and over again over the years. There were many I didn't know, or knew I had known at one time but didn't anymore, and others I couldn't be sure about due to how covered they were in green parasites.

I followed the trail as long as my anger pushed me forward. As that started to ebb, I slowed. A few drops of moisture trickled down from the canopy above me, but I couldn't be certain if it was beginning to rain or if it was from tiny pools from yesterday, held high in the leaves above me, slowly dripping their way back to the earth. A recently fallen tree – I knew it was recent because it wasn't entirely covered in moss – rested against the trunk of one of her sisters, creating a sheltered little bench just a few safe feet from the trail. I stepped over the ferns and sat carefully, making sure my jacket was between the damp seat and my clothes wherever they touched, and leaned my hooded head back against the living tree.

This was the wrong place to have come. I should have known, but where else was there to go? The forest was deep green and far too much like the scene from last night's dream to allow for a peace of mind. Now that there was no longer the sound of my soggy footsteps, the silence was piercing. The birds were quiet, too, the drops increasing in frequency, so it had to be raining above. The ferns stood higher than my head, now that I was seated, and I knew someone could walk by on the path, three feet away, and not even see me.

Here in the trees, it was much easier to believe the absurdities that embarrassed me indoors. Nothing had changed in this forest for thousands of years, and all the myths and legends of my ancestors and a hundred other different groups of people seemed much more likely in this green haze than they had in my clear-cut bedroom. I almost wondered that, if I tried howling like a wolf or letting out a blood-curdling scream, a pure black wolf would come charging to my rescue. I could picture him before me now in this setting, sitting on his haunches, his black eyes boring into my very soul.

"Sam," I whispered again, this time for real.

If the legends were true – and it still felt like such a ridiculous notion to entertain, even if there was no rational explanation for how I was alive at this moment outside of something that at least bordered on the supernatural – and Edythe was a vampire and Sam, Jared, and Paul were werewolves, then what should I do? Involving one of them, Emily, and the elders was out. I could only imagine what they would think of me, knowingly getting attached to one of our supposed enemies. And even so, I could hardly believe myself about all of this; anyone that wasn't Quileute that I told would probably have me committed.

Only two options seemed practical. The first was to heed the advice of Edythe and that I was sure my family, friends, and the elders would give me: to be smart, to avoid her as much as possible. To cancel our plans for Seattle, to back to ignoring her as far as I was able to. To pretend that there was an impenetrably thick wall of glass between us in the one class where we were forced together. To tell her to leave me alone – and mean it this time.

But, no. I was gripped in a sudden agony of despair as I considered that alternative. As I'd said, I'd grown attached – far too attached than what was reasonable. My mind rejected the pain, quickly skipping on to the next option.

I could do nothing different. After all, if Edythe was a vampire, she hadn't done anything...sinister to me so far. She seemed more like the Stregoni benefici that I had read about, not any of the other kinds. In fact, I would be a dent in Tyler's fender if she hadn't acted so quickly. So quickly, I argued with myself, that it might have been sheer reflexes. But if it was a reflex to save lives, that just confirmed to me what I had previously thought. So how bad could she be? My head spun around in endless circles. And I didn't stop to consider another possible: that Edythe wasn't a vampire, but she was something else. I had too much evidence from the Quileute legends to even think about that.

There was one thing I was sure of, if I was sure of anything. The dark Edythe from my dream last night was only a reflection of my fear of what Jacob had said the cold ones besides the most recent group to be, not of Edythe herself. Even so, when I'd screamed out in terror as the werewolves had lunged, it hadn't been fear for the wolves that had brought the cry "no!" to my lips. It was fear that she would be harmed – even as she called to me with sharp-edged fangs, I feared for her.

And I knew in that I had my answer. I didn't know if there was ever a choice, really. I was already in too deep. Now that I knew – if I knew, if this was truly all real – I could do nothing about my frightening secret. Because when I thought of Edythe, her voice, her hypnotic eyes, and the magnetic force of her personality, I wanted nothing more than to be with her right now. Even if...but I couldn't think of it. Not here, alone in the darkening forest. Not while the rain made it as dim as twilight under the canopy and pattered like footsteps across the matted earthen floor. I shivered and rose quickly from my place of concealment, worried that somehow the path would have disappeared with the rain.

But it was there, safe and clear, winding its way out of the dripping green maze. I followed it hastily, my hood pulled close around my face, becoming surprised as I ran through the trees at how far I had come. I started to wonder if I was heading out at all, or following the path farther into the confines of the forest. Before I could become too panicked, though, I began to glimpse some open spaces through the webbed branches. And then I could hear a car passing by on the street, and I was free, Nonna's lawn stretched out in front of me, the house beckoning me with promises of warmth and dry socks. Her car was gone; she must've left.

It was noon when I got back inside. I snooped around in the kitchen and found a note from my grandmother, telling me that she had gone out with friends and would be back around four or five. The news relieved me more than it should've, but right now, all I wanted was to be alone. I went upstairs and got dressed for the day, jeans and a t-shirt, since I was staying indoors. It didn't take me too much effort to concentrate on my task for the day, a paper on Macbeth that was due on Wednesday. I settled into outlining a rough draft contentedly, more serene than I'd felt since...well, since Thursday afternoon, if I was being honest.

That had always been my way, though. Making decisions was the painful part for me, the part I agonized over. But once the decision was made, I simply followed through – usually with relief that the choice was made. Sometimes the relief was tainted by despair, like my decision to come to Forks. But it was still better than wrestling the alternatives.

The decision was ridiculously easy to live with. Dangerously easy.

And so the day was quiet, productive – I finished my paper before eight, long after Nonna had come home with a large catch that one of her friend's sons had gotten while out fishing. I was glad to see evidence for the generosity of the townspeople towards her, and made a mental note to pick up a book of recipes for fish while I was in Seattle next week, since hers was a little outdated. The chills that flashed up my spine whenever I thought of the trip were exhilarating. I knew I should be afraid, but I couldn't feel the right kind of fear.

I slept dreamlessly that night, exhausted from beginning my day so early, and sleeping so poorly the night before. I woke, for the third time since arriving in Forks, to the bright yellow light of a sunny day. I skipped to the window, stunned to see that there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and those there were just fleecy little white puffs that couldn't possibly be carrying any rain. I opened the window – surprised when it opened silently, without sticking, not having been opened in what had to be months, if not years – and sucked in the relatively dry air. It was nearly warm and hardly windy at all. My blood was electric in my veins.

Nonna was fixing her own breakfast when I came downstairs, and she picked up on my mood immediately. "It's a nice day," she commented.

"It is," I agreed with a grin.

She smiled back, her hazel eyes crinkling even more around the edges.

I ate breakfast cheerily, watching the dust moats stirring in the sunlight that streamed in the back window. Nonna said goodbye to me as I headed my way over to the door. I hesitated to grab my raincoat, but I decided it would be tempting fate to leave it at home. With a sigh, I folded it over my arm and stepped out into the brightest light I'd seen in months.

It wasn't until I was in my truck, after using much elbow grease to get both of its windows almost completely rolled down, and on my way to school that I thought back to my musings from the weekend. It was a sunny day outside. None of the Cullens had showed up on the other sunny school day I'd witnessed before. Apprehension dawned on me.

Maybe they would, I tried convincing myself. That would certainly be proof to refute the idea of them being vampires...or the idea that vampires had to evade the sun.

My proof one way or the other did not come immediately; in my haste to get outside, I hadn't checked the clock. I was one of the first students to arrive at school. I parked and headed over to the seldom-used picnic benches on the south side of the cafeteria. The benches were still a little damp, so I sat on my jacket, glad to have use for it. My homework was done – the product of a slow social life – but there were a few Trig problems I wasn't sure I had right. As I worked, however, my eyes kept on drifting from the page, either towards the parking lot to see the steadily increasing amount of students arriving, or to the trees where the sunlight played at their red bark. I wound up sketching inattentively along the margins of my homework. After a few minutes, I suddenly realized I'd drawn four pairs of eyes – one a light grey because that was all the lead of my pencil could accomplish, and the other three black. The black ones were shaped like wolf eyes. Hurriedly, I scrubbed them out with my eraser.

"Bella!" I heard someone call, and it sounded like Mike.

I looked up, and indeed it was him. He was wearing a t-shirt like everyone else, although he hadn't dared to wear shorts like some others even though the temperature couldn't be over sixty. He was waving at me.

"Hey, Mike," I called, waving back.

He came to sit by me, the tidy spikes of his hair shining golden in the light, his grin stretching across his face. He was so delighted to see me, I couldn't help but feel gratified.

"I never noticed before – your hair has a little bit of red in it," he commented, catching between his fingers a strand that was fluttering in the breeze.

"Only in the sun," I replied. The red was from my grandpa Swan's side of the family. Geoffrey Swan had been about as English/Irish as they could come with a red beard in the colored pictures my family had of him, and it had surprised Renée and Charlie alike when I'd inherited this one particular feature from him.

Mike let the strand go. "Great day, isn't it?"

"My kind of day," I agreed.

"What did you do yesterday?"

"Oh, I mostly worked on my essay," I divulged, not wanting to add that I was finished with it.

He hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Oh, yeah...that's due Thursday, right?"

"Wednesday, I think."

"'Wednesday?'" he quoted. "That's not good...What are you writing yours on?"

"Whether Shakespeare's treatment of the female characters is misogynistic."

"That sounds cool," he said genuinely, grinning. It made warmth bloom in my chest – it was nice to know that I had a friend who could say those sorts of things here. "I guess I'll have to get started working on mine tonight. Have no idea what mine's going to be about, though."

"I'm sure you'll come up with a good idea," I encouraged. I got to my feet. "I'm going to head over to class. I don't want to be late again."

We walked over to building three together, talking about possible essay ideas for him. He came up with some good ideas on the fly – I hoped for his sake that he went with one of them and not a more mundane choice.

When I saw Jessica in Trig, she was bubbling with enthusiasm. She, Angela, and Lauren were going to Port Angeles tonight to go dress shopping for the dance, and she wanted me to come, too, even though I didn't need one. I was indecisive. It would be nice to get out of town with some (female) friends, but Lauren would be there. And who knew what I could be doing tonight...but that definitely was the wrong path for my mind to wander down.

So I gave her a maybe, telling her I'd have to talk with my grandmother first.

She talked of nothing but the dance on the way to Spanish, continuing as if without an interruption when class finally ended, five minutes late, and we were on our way to lunch. I was far too lost in my own frenzy of anticipation to notice much of what she said, and unsure of what to feel of outside of that. As I crossed over the threshold into the cafeteria, my emotions only became more pronounced.

The adrenaline coursing through me, I did as was my routine and looked over at the Cullens' table first. When I realized that it was empty, it felt like all of the blood had left my face. I looked around the cafeteria, hoping to find Edythe somewhere, waiting for me. The place was nearly filled due to Spanish making us late, but there was no sign of Edythe anywhere or her family. Desolation and another, unnerving feeling hit me with crippling strength at the same time.

They hadn't shown up today, because I didn't remember seeing the silver Volvo in the parking lot. This was the second sunny day I'd witnessed where they hadn't shown.

I shambled along behind Jessica, not bothering to listen to her anymore in spite of how guilty it made me feel.

We were late enough that everyone was already at our table. I sat down between Mike and Angela, knowing that Jessica wouldn't be too pleased by it – which a look at her face confirmed – but wanting solace between the two of them. Angela asked a few questions about the Macbeth paper, which I answered as naturally as I could while spiraling downward in my thoughts. She, too, invited me to go with them tonight, and I agreed now, grasping at anything to distract myself.

I realized I'd been holding on to a last shred of hope when I entered Biology, saw her empty seat, and felt a new wave of disappointment and that other emotion I couldn't place.

The rest of the day passed by slowly and dismally. In Gym, we had a lecture on the rules of badminton, the next torture they had lined up for me. But at least it meant I got to sit and listen instead of stumbling around on the court. The best part was that our coach didn't finish, which meant I had another day off tomorrow. Never mind that the day after they would arm me with a racket before unleashing me on the rest of the class.

I was glad to leave campus, so I would be free to pout and mope and go through everything else that I was feeling before I went out tonight with Jessica and company. I told Nonna about my plans when I got home and once again told her I would not be around for dinner, but she was just as fine with that as she had been before. If anything, she seemed more excited this time – presumably at the prospect of me going out again with friends so soon. I still made her a salad that she could eat later along with bread from the night before.

When I was finished with that, Jessica still hadn't arrived or called me to let me know she was on her way, so I decided now was as good of time as any to check on my emails, not feeling in the mood to work on my homework. I read through the backlog of letters from my mother, getting snipper as they progressed to the present. I sighed and typed a quick response:

Mom,

Sorry, I've been out. I went to the beach with some friends, and I had to write a paper.

My excuses were fairly pathetic, so I gave up on that, continuing with:

It's sunny outside today – I know, I'm shocked, too. I have some plans tonight with some friends, though. I'll email again when I can. I love you,

Bella

As soon as I had clicked the button to send the email, I heard a loud honk from outside. Looking through my curtains, I saw that it was Jessica in her old white Mercury. I switched my scruffy wallet from my school bag to a purse that I rarely used, went downstairs to say goodbye to Nonna, and ran out to join Jessica. She told me on the way to Angela's that Lauren's parents had told her at the last minute she would have to babysit her younger brother tonight, which she was upset about, but had told Jessica to continue on without us – no doubts because of me, although I thought that was unfair for me to think about. Nevertheless, I felt better at her absence and, as we actually drove out of the town limits, that only became even more the case to an exponential level.

Word Count: 6,032

Next Chapter Title: port angeles