When you lose a parent, it's like only you come to a screeching halt while the rest of the world goes on. I had never been on autopilot as much as I was when Jared, Jacob, and Embry came to my apartment to tell me my father, my everything, was gone forever. Packing a bag, getting to the airport, driving back to the reservation. All of it was like a blur.

Mom and Seth were walking out of the house right as we pulled into the driveway. The next thing I knew, I was in the tightest hug of my life with my little brother, who was towering over me now as if he wasn't the tiny, scrawny kid I had left that summer. His entire body was trembling as he tried not to cry. "Thank you, Jared," my mother said softly behind me. She put a soft hand on the small of my back; I pulled her in with us and just tried to breathe through that dull ache in my chest. "I'm so sorry you had to come home like this," she whispered in my ear.

I still expected to hear him come down the stairs and say, "There's my college girl!" but nothing happened. It was so still, eerily quiet. As if they hadn't moved or touched anything since they found out. I stopped just in the doorway, lacing my hand with my brother's, as I took in everything. It was still home, just as I left it. My mom's floral perfume and dad's woodsy cologne still danced together in the air. There was a fresh pot of coffee on the counter like always. But it was darker now. The flowers on the coffee table were dying and there were papers and folders everywhere. Even from the door, the words "Sunset Hills Funeral Home" were crystal clear and it made my stomach turn.

It's the weirdest feeling for someone you love to become a memory in just a second. As I looked at Dad's work boots and jacket at the door, I couldn't help but hear him humming a Beatles song as he took them off at the end of every day. Which one was it? The melody played in a loop in my head like an earworm, but I couldn't think of the name. "I'm happy you're home, sis," Seth said somberly. Even his voice was deeper now than when I left.

I couldn't say I was happy to be home. Clearly. Mom rubbed my arm before saying, "Sit, sweetheart. I just made coffee."

The three of us assumed our regular spots at the kitchen table out of habit, but that seemed to make it even more glaringly obvious that Dad was missing. Mama poured coffee for all three of us and set out cream and sugar. Seth loaded his up, but I just poured a little bit of cream to cut the bitterness. Mama took hers black as always. Dad liked his with a half a teaspoon of sugar. I opened my mouth to speak in god knows how long, but my throat was just dry. "H-How did it happen?" I asked quietly. "I didn't want to hear it from Jared."

Mama put her hand on top of mine and gave it a squeeze. "It was a heart attack," she told me.

I reared back at the news. "Heart att—what? Aren't heart attacks for old people? He wasn't even 40 yet!"

Mama sighed, "It was a special circumstance, sweetheart. Let's not get into that now. It's been a long 24 hours; you must be tired from all of that traveling. Can we just take a second to appreciate you being home?"

"Can we also acknowledge the reason I'm at home, Mama?" I asked her, tears stinging my eyes. "Daddy's…he's…"

"Gone…" Seth finished for me in a whisper.

We all looked at the empty chair at the head of the round table. Every few minutes, my phone would vibrate in my bag at the door, or the house phone would ring, but none of us could be bothered with it. It was almost like we couldn't move because he wasn't here. But the world keeps turning…we keep going…life doesn't just stop when your most important person is gone.

That Beatles melody was still playing in a loop in my head. I started to hum it to myself as I traced the rim of my mug with my finger. "I want…" I sung, trying to remember the words. "I want to…hold your hand. I want to hold your hand. I want to hold your hand…"

I shot up from the table, the wooden legs scraping against the hard floors. I walked over to my dad's old record collection and dared myself to touch them, to feel something he's felt. Shifting through them, I found the vinyl I was looking for before carefully placing it on the record player. Dad loved to keep things classic; he didn't care to have new technology. He'd been collecting records for years. The poppy music started playing out of the speakers, a warm sensation washing over me. My head bobbed to the beat as I walked over to the kitchen table and held out my hand to my mom. She looked up at me, her eyes brimming with tears and her lip quivering. It was his favorite record. He played it for her on their first date. Mama took my hand and I twirled her around the living room. I remember watching them dance to this song in the living room when I was a kid. Seth was still a baby, but even he stood up and hummed along and danced with us.

So we spent what felt like hours listening to it. Every time it would end, we would start it over. We danced, we laughed, we cried. He wouldn't have wanted us to cry, I don't think. And as I stared at the family photo of all four of us on the mantle, I could have sworn I felt an extra presence there with us.

It didn't take long before people were starting to come in and out of the house like a revolving door. Pam Cameron and Allison Uley came by first with masses of food for us. Allison just kept aggressively rocking me back and forth while she cried. Actually, that ended up happening a lot. It was very strange. I think people anticipate your pain and it makes them so emotional that they almost expect to be comforted.

Rachel came by next with Billy Black, immediately trying to task herself with cleaning up or helping around the house. This made sense; she did the same thing when her mom died when we were 12. "Rebecca's on her way," she let me know with wide sympathetic eyes. "She got on the last flight off the island. She told me to tell you she loves you and asked me to give you hugs." She hugged me before I could even say anything. She just kept repeating that she was sorry, and she was here for me, whatever I needed.

When the pack, old teachers, and other miscellaneous members of the community started funneling in and out, the long hours started to finally wear on me. There were so many people, it was overwhelming. The pack was growing fast, our reservation protectors I almost felt bad for being out of the loop. It was clear that Seth would be next; he was matching them in height and weight. I had escaped out onto the back porch to alleviate the pressure from all the noise. Paul's house sat untouched next door. It was exactly as we left it. Through the big living room window, you could still see the white plaster contrast against the flat yellowish paint from when we had to patch up the massive hole from that day.

"…what if she doesn't want to see me?" I heard from the other side of the house. I knew that voice anywhere. Emily.

"I'm sure she's not going to hold a grudge, honey. It's fine," Sam told her.

I cringed before slipping back into the house, quietly. Not today. Any day but today. I bounded up the stairs into my old bedroom and closed the door. It was like walking into a time capsule. Just photos and old gifts and keepsakes everywhere. My backpack was still hanging off of my desk chair and that book that I never finished was sitting on my nightstand. It was like I never left. There was a knock at the door. Seth slipped into my room quickly. He looked at me and gave me a sad smile. "Are you hiding?" he asked.

"Are you?" I teased lightly. He nodded sheepishly as he sat down on my bed. My baby brother looked like a man now. But no amount of building muscle or rapid height would change who he was inside who was still so sweet and a little shy. "It doesn't feel real," I commented, picking at a loose hem on my comforter.

Seth nodded before confessing, "I'm scared it never will."

Pulling him to me, he rested his head in my lap and let me play with his hair. I never wanted my sunshine of a brother to ever experience any kind of hurt ever. I always thought he was too good for this world, even when he was just being my bratty little brother.

"Where's Paul?" he asked after a few minutes as he finally realized that Paul hadn't gotten out of the car with me that morning.

I shrugged as I mumbled, "I don't know." I couldn't help that little nag in my head that hoped one of those many phone calls was Paul. It was strange to be here without him. One of the many, many things that were strange at that moment. "We've been fighting," I told Seth, "and he took off."

"Took off? That doesn't sound like Paul…" Seth shook his head. "Have you called him?"

I resisted the urge to say something sarcastic in response. So I just nodded.

"Well, hopefully, he'll make it in time for the…funeral," Seth choked on the word, but it's so crazy that even in the darkest of days, he can still find a way to be optimistic.

"We'll see, Bub," I muttered as I started to play with his hair. "Let's not talk about Paul right now, is that ok?"

Rebecca showed up sooner than expected, an expected storm as she looked over me to make sure I was alright. "I got here as fast as I could, but I missed my connection in San Francisco and then Jacob was driving so slow. I had to take over, but then we got pulled over—" she rambled.

I pulled her into a hug without a word and felt her relax against me. I remember being a kid and trying to imagine what it felt like to grieve so greatly the way Billy Black and his family did. Sarah Black was a pure light in the darkness; when she passed away, we all felt it. This community of people is so small. When someone is missing from that, it's like a blow to the chest. "I missed you so much," I said as I took her in. She smelled like sea salt and sunblock. Her skin was even tanner than before, and she was almost glowing. "Thank you for coming home, Becca."

She tucked my hair behind my ear as she looked at me, "Are you kidding? I'd do anything for you."

She didn't stay at the house for long, knowing how important it was for us to come to terms with this, undistracted. But I was experiencing this really weird phenomenon where every single time someone walked away from me, an aggressive flare of anxiety would flow through me. I wanted to stop Bex from leaving me. And Rachel. And my brother. Just stay here with me forever.

It was around 10 when a harsh knock came at the door. Me, Mama, and Seth all looked at each other confused before Seth got up to get the door.

"I'm so sorry," I heard his rushed voice say. "I got here as fast as I could. Are you guys alright? Where is she?"

"Take a breath," Seth told him. "She's inside, but…I don't think now is a good time."

"I just need to see her for a second, Seth, please," Paul was just shy of begging.

So I got up and walked to the door. "It's ok, Seth," I told my brother softly as I opened the door wider. He looked disheveled and on the verge of tears. When he saw me, his whole body deflated; I couldn't tell if it was relief or sympathy or…pity or whatever.

Seeing Paul was stirring a battle in me. As much as I wanted to fall into his arms and cry until I physically couldn't anymore, I was still reeling from the last conversation we had and the fact that he had just disappeared for days. "Lee, I…" he started.

I shook my head, "You don't have to."

"I couldn't get a flight out of New York so I just started running. When I got to Chicago, I finally got a seat on a plane," he explained. "Jared told me what happened. I'm so, so sorry, Leah."

He reached to hug me and it was the first time that I felt myself steel away from him. He looked hurt, but stepped away from me anyway. "It's been a long day," I deflected. "Go get some rest and we can talk in the morning."

I'll never forget the single tear that fell down his face. But I still closed the door before I started to cry myself.

XXXXXXXXX

When I got out of the shower, the day of the funeral, I found myself talking out loud to Dad. Every few minutes, I was telling him I love him and if he's at peace, then I will be too. Every single thing I thought I was supposed to be feeling was being pushed down further and further. "Can you just help me get through the day?" I asked out loud as I left the bathroom.

"Leah, honey?" Mama called from inside my bedroom. She walked out and even though you'd never be able to tell through how impressive her makeup hid it, she hadn't slept in days. She was putting in her sensible hoop earrings. "I steamed your dress for you and laid it on your bed. I have to call the funeral director. Can you please make sure everyone is ready to go by 10?"

I nodded, "Sure, Mama."

My dress was too tight. I dealt with it. Seth was dragging his feet. I was dealing with it. My hair wasn't cooperating. I was so close to screaming. I threw my curling iron down when I felt my fingertips touch it for a second too long. "Fuck!" I cursed before putting my face in my hands.

"You should just wear it natural," I heard from the door. Mama was standing there, sadness clouding her eyes. She came up behind me and fixed my hair like I was five years old. "Your dad always loved your natural hair."

I hated this dress, I hated this day, I hated the fact that I was preparing to see my father for the last time. The lump in my throat was making it harder and harder to breathe.

Paul and I hadn't talked; I just couldn't bring myself to have that conversation while helping my mom plan my dad's funeral. It was just beginning to be too much. But was I surprised to hear bacon sizzling downstairs that morning? No.

Mama and I got downstairs and saw Paul at his favorite place, in front of the stove. "Oh, Paul, sweetie, you didn't need to do all of this."

He looked over his shoulder and smiled, "It's the least I can do. I figure it'll be a long day; you guys need to eat."

The idea of eating hadn't even crossed my mind; I wasn't very hungry so I just ate some fruit and ignored the concerned looks from everyone.

Even with all of the preparations and conversations and reflections, I still don't think I would have ever been fully ready to go to my dad's funeral. He looked peaceful, which I was grateful for. But he was so still that it made me sick to my stomach. Seth stayed close behind me the whole time we were at the casket. The sun graced us with its presence through the whole funeral. It was warm against my skin, a direct contrast to how cold I felt inside.

Billy Black led the service. We couldn't have asked anyone else except for him. I was sandwiched perfectly between my mother and my brother, with Rachel, Rebecca, Paul, and Jared directly behind me, and Seth's girlfriend and a couple of his friends say directly behind him. Sam and Emily were very strategically placed on the other side of the field, but I noticed way too many times that Emily had turned on the full theatrics. "She really can't help herself," Bex whispered to Rachel. Rach shushed her before agreeing with her.

Mama, Seth, and I all stumbled through our speeches about Dad, holding back the absolute crippling heartbreak that coursed through us. My hands gripped the podium as I spoke. "My dad was my best friend," I started. "I don't think I could ever imagine a better father, a greater support system, a louder cheerleader than him. He had the purest heart I've ever known and I honestly don't think I'll ever know one like him ever again. And I'm alright with that," I shrugged, "because, looking out at all of you, I am so warmed to know how much of an impact he had on our community."

The only thing I ever hoped was that my father was proud of me. My family had always told me that I was brave, I was confident. I wasn't sure if that was true right now. I had never felt smaller than I did at that moment.

I sat down next to my family and Mama instantly put a hand on my shoulder in comfort. Billy Black was saying his final remarks, but I couldn't hear him. My eyes couldn't leave the casket. His still face. He's just asleep… I tried to convince myself. They started to close it. No…

"Please," I heard myself say out loud. "Please…not yet…"

Billy looked at me with the most sorrow wearing on his face. I couldn't hold Seth's hand tight enough as my heart pounded in my ears. I was seconds away from never seeing my dad's face again. Billy cleared his throat. "Would anyone else like to say something about Harry Clearwater?" he asked.

It was quiet. Almost too quiet. Everyone was too sad to speak. I didn't have anything else to say and my mother was barely holding it together. I bit my lip to choke back the sobs. If no one else spoke, they would close the coffin and that would be it. It would really be goodbye.

"I would." His voice cut like a knife. Billy waved Paul up to the podium and I could finally take my eyes off of my father's face to see Paul shaking the nerves out of his hands. His black button down was a little too tight across his chest, but he tucked it in and he looked neat. That's all that mattered. Dad would have wanted him to be neat.

Paul leaned his hands on the podium and looked out into the crowd before his eyes rested on me. "Uh," he started, nervously. "I'm pretty sure everyone here knows me, but, for the few who don't, I'm Paul. Leah's boyfriend and the unofficial third child of Harry and Sue Clearwater," he joked, lightly. There were a few chuckles in the crowd. "A lot of you must be thinking, 'why is Leah's boyfriend speaking?' which is totally fair. But, as most of you know, before I was Leah's boyfriend, I was taken in by the Clearwaters when I was 6 years old. I had it pretty rough growing up so Harry would be the one to bring me clothes and slip Leah an extra lunch for me to have at school. Then, later when I was about 12, he was considered my sole guardian around the reservation. And he did everything he could to make sure that I was taken care of when my own family didn't.

"Harry was the man who took me the same time he took his real daughter out to learn how to ride a bike while he was wearing one of those baby front backpack things. He had Seth strapped to his body and was holding my bike steady at the same time. He taught me how to shave and gave me the birds and the bees talk," Paul shook his head at the memory as the twins and I giggled a little. "He was my protector; he saw something in me that I was never brave enough to see in myself. Even now, it's been from his encouragement and support that I pursue my dreams.

Paul paused as he struggled with his words. "There's not many people in the world who would do what Harry did for me. What he's done for this entire reservation over the years. Every day that I wake up, I'm reminded that he saved my life.

He started to get choked up a little, but he took a second to gather himself. He took a deep breath before saying, "Harry Clearwater was the only father I've ever had. Anyone who's met him knows how loudly he loved and how fiercely he protected. I've had the privilege of being on the receiving end of both of those things. I wouldn't be who I am if it wasn't for Harry, and I hope that he knew how loved he was by every single person here before he left us."

Paul held my gaze as everyone clapped. My lip quivered as I mouthed, "Thank you." He nodded once before taking his seat again.

I struggled as they closed the casket and as they lowered his body into the ground. I remember burying my face into Seth as the sobs shook my body. I hated that it was so quick. It only took a few seconds for my father to be gone forever.

XXXXXXXXX

Everyone—and I do mean everyone—poured into our house after the funeral for polite chit chat about how great Dad was and to ask things like "How's New York? I bet it's wonderful. Your father must have been so proud of you."

The twins and I had a secret game going where we would tally how many times people would do that head tilt thing and go, "How are you really?" I'm fucking sad, Janet. What are you expecting?

Bex discreetly handed me the flask she'd been keeping in her clutch. I took a small sip, feeling the burn of vodka rush down my throat. "Hey," she said, grabbing my hand. "When Mom died, Rach and I hid out in our bedroom for an hour after the funeral just to get some quiet."

"Yeah?" I looked between the both of them.

Rachel nodded, "Lee, none of these people really know what this feels like for you. If you need a second for yourself, take it."

They didn't need to tell me twice. My hands could barely get a handle on the doorknob as I stumbled into the bathroom upstairs. I paced the few feet from the door to the bathtub a couple of times, feeling my stomach flip more and more by the second, before slamming the door shut. I struggled to get myself to take a deep breath as I clenched the sink. Looking up at myself, I could barely recognize myself in the mirror.

Instead of my face, I saw everything that my dad gave me. I saw his eyes. His full cheeks. His nose. My entire life, people told me I looked like him. I never saw it until that moment. My eyeliner was completely smudged under my bloodshot eyes—his eyes. I covered my mouth as I felt a sob threaten to escape it.

A knock came from the other side, "Leah?"

No…not him. Not right now. I felt myself hastily trying to adjust myself. Trying to get rid of the running makeup. Pulling at my hair. Pulling at my clothes. This dress, that fucking dress is so tight. I felt the black fabric snap back against my torso and I started to panic. It was so constricting; between this depressing fucking dress and this tiny bathroom, I felt like the walls were closing in on me. "Fuck…fuck…" I whispered, reaching around for the zipper on the side. It budged an inch before it jammed. "Goddamn it!"

I yanked on it for too long, so focused on trying to breathe that I didn't notice the door open. His hot hands covered mine as I tried to free myself. "Hey, hey, hey, relax," Paul tried to coax me.

"I can't—," I wheezed, "I-I can't breathe."

"It's ok, Lee, I got you."

I tugged at my dress more, tears streaming down my face, furiously. "Get it off. I can't breathe. I can't…I can't…"

The air flooded back to my lungs as Paul reached to my side and broke the zipper with the flick of his wrist. I gasped as I collapsed into his arms and started sobbing uncontrollably. My heart was lowered into the ground with my father and whatever was left in my body was just breaking into smaller pieces every second. I would sell my soul to have five more minutes with him. I would do anything to go back in time and take that last phone call from him. Or to hear his voice one more time. How does someone who's been there your whole life become just a memory in the matter of a second? What do you do when your motivation for moving forward stops breathing?

My fists were clinging to Paul's black button down as I continued to cry. I couldn't stop it. He just kept planting kisses on my forehead and whispering to me that he had me. "Why did he leave me?" I sobbed. "How could he do that to me?"

"I'm so sorry, Lee," he whispered in my hair. I pressed my face hard into his chest, praying that the pain that was wracking through my entire body would just stop. But it never did. Even now, I still feel it; every time something makes me smile, I wish he was here to smile with me.

I have no idea how long we sat on that bathroom floor. He just let me feel everything and didn't speak. Meanwhile, my mind was trying to find the bargain. What was the moment—the one decision—that could have maybe changed this. What if I had worn a different shirt that day? What if I had skipped class that day? What if— "I was supposed to call him back…" I whispered. What if I had actually answered the phone when he called me again that afternoon?

I was pissed off at myself. I had gotten myself caught up in my own world that I had forgotten to call him back. "It's not your fault, honey," Paul said, making me look up at him.

"He's supposed to be here," I cried.

"I know," he said, unshed tears in his eyes.

"It hurts. Everything hurts." I was just talking out loud. "How is he just gone?"

He didn't answer. How could he? This is the only part of life that we all go through and still don't understand. He just cried with me. Nothing else mattered at that point.

XXXXXXXXX

I was cleaning up the last of the mess when the twins slipped into the back door. It was nearing 1 am; I couldn't sleep. Actually, it was more like I didn't want to sleep. As much as I wanted the day to be over, I couldn't bear the idea of waking up again and my father still being dead. "Is there any wine left?" Rachel asked sweetly as Bex went into the living room. I was setting two bottles of red wine down on the table when Bex came back with a handful of blankets. "Perfect!" Rachel said as she put the wine in her giant satchel she had across her body.

"What are y'all up to?" I asked suspiciously.

"You might want to put a sweatshirt on or something. It's chilly out," Bex said.

"Where are we going?" I pressed.

"The beach," Bex answered. "We're getting you out of the house for a bit."

I shook my head fervently. "No, guys, I'm just going to go to bed. I'm really tired—"

"We weren't asking you if you wanted to go to the beach," Rachel shrugged. She held out her two fingers and thumb like a gun. "Come on. Let's go and no one gets hurt."

I thought about it for a second before rolling my eyes and nodding, "Alright." I went over to the coat closet to see if I may have left any jackets here before I left. My dad's favorite flannel was hanging right in the center. It was blue and grey fleece and he wore it every time he went out for walks around the neighborhood in the morning. When I touched it, I sighed through the sadness before yanking it off the hanger and pulling it on my body. It smelled just like him.

I sat silent in the backseat as we drove to the beach. I had forgotten that you could see so many stars out here. In the city, all of the lights are so bright, you can't really see the stars. I missed home; of course, I missed home. All of this was comfortably familiar. Being in the backseat with my best friends, going to the beach, sneaking drinks and night swimming. But this was different. This was grief control. You know, like damage control. They were trying to take my mind off of it. All of it.

The boys had built a fire right there on the beach. The whole pack was there, even Seth. Even Sam. Seth's girlfriend, Alexis, was setting out blankets as we approached. I saw Paul before he saw me. He was stoking the fire, laughing mindlessly at something Jared said before shoving him backward. Jacob was sitting with some brunette pale face girl I'd never seen before. "Rach," I called behind me as she closed the car door. "Who is that with Jacob?"

She scoffed in distaste, "Bella," she said bitterly. I raised my eyebrows at her surprising reaction. Rachel loved everyone, unapologetically so. I'd heard that name before from Paul so, if Rachel didn't like her, there must be a good reason. "She's been coming around more since her vampire boyfriend left her."

"She looks nice," I tried to offer before my eyes widened. "Wait, do you know…?"

"The secret? Yeah, Jacob can't hold secrets for anything," she shook her head. "I get why you couldn't tell. Becca doesn't know though."

It was always weird to keep secrets from Rachel and Rebecca. I felt better that at least one of them knew now. I tried to imagine what Bex's reaction would be if she found out. I don't think it would be pretty, honestly.

I don't trust her," Rachel said with a stern face, talking about Bella. "She's been using Jacob and I'm not here for it."

"Forever the fierce protector," Bex joked as she got out of the car, throwing her arms around both of us. "If we get drunk, we won't even notice she's there. Let's go."

I had already decided that I didn't want to drink myself silly that night. I didn't need to drink to forget or to numb the pain. I was already numb so…what else could be done other than to just let it ride?

Drinks started flowing pretty quickly though, I must admit. Rebecca poured mine into a red solo cup and held it out to me. I took a long drink out of the cup and asked her to refill it. "Thanks for this," I said.

"For what?" she asked.

"All of this," I gestured out. "I needed this more than I thought."

She shook her head, "I didn't do this."

She pointed across the fire at Paul who had Jacob in a playful chokehold. He looked up right then and smiled at me. "Seriously?" I asked Bex.

She nodded before telling me she was going to bug Jared about something. "I'll find you in a bit."

I was about to walk over to Paul to give him my thanks when that Bella girl stepped in front of me. She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Y-You're Leah, right?" she said.

"Yeah," I smiled nicely. "And you're Bella. I've heard a lot about you."

Her eyes widened as her pale face flushed. "Oh! I-I didn't know there was anything to know."

"It's a small reservation," I said coyly, picking up a bottle of rum and pouring myself another drink. I needed to slow down. So much for not drinking the night away. "Life on these lands? There are no secrets."

She flushed again as she ducked her head, "Well I guess that's good to know," she muttered. "I just wanted to say I'm so sorry about your dad. He was always so nice when he would come around to see Charlie. I…I feel kind of responsible for what happened to Harry."

I squinted at this girl in front of me. "I'm sorry?"

Across the fire, Paul and Jacob stopped roughhousing long enough to listen to what was going on.

Bella started stuttering worse than she was before. But it essentially boiled down to this: "Harry was helping with the wild animal manhunt the police are conducting and he got caught in the crossfire of a vampire that's hunting me and the wolves that were hunting her. I had no idea he had a heart attack until after—"

My ears were ringing a little at the information. She spoke about what happened so casually. As if she wasn't talking to someone whose father just died. "Why are you telling me this?" I asked, feeling myself get upset. Paul and Jacob started coming around the other side of the bonfire.

"I-It's just all been a huge mess. You're dating one of the wolves, right? So you probably get how crazy it can be. You see, my boyfriend—"

"I don't care about your vampire boyfriend," I interrupted her, sternly. "Your vampire boyfriend doesn't have anything to do with my dad."

"N-n-no, of course not," I could tell I was making her sweat. "He's long gone anyway. I-I was just saying that if Edward hadn't killed James then Victoria wouldn't be hunting me then…then maybe Harry would…"

"Be alive?" I finished for her. "Are you asking me to absolve you from this weird guilt so that you'll feel better that my dad is dead?" I was trying not to raise my voice and failing miserably.

The boys were in front of us now. Paul put a hand on the small of my back. "Ease up, Lee," he said lowly.

"I really didn't mean to upset you," Bella said, her big brown eyes wide with fear. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for your loss."

"That's not going to bring him back now, is it?" I snapped as Paul pulled me away. He walked me so far up the beach, I almost didn't notice Jacob Black putting his arm around her to comfort her before he took her home. I ran my hand through my hair as I let out a frustrated, "Ugh!"

The entire party had gone quiet at the commotion, but that didn't matter. Paul was rubbing my arms up and down, "Hey, come back to me," he said. "What just happened?"

I shook my head, "You know what? I'm really fucking tired of everyone wanting me to comfort them when I'm the one that's hurting." My own voice was making my head hurt. "All I've been doing since I've been home is making everyone else feel better. That's so fucking sick."

"Just take a deep breath," he told me. "Tonight is supposed to help you feel better. This has been hard for all of us, but we know how much weight this is for you."

"He's my dad," I choked out as my chest constricted for the millionth time that day. Paul looked down at the sand and I sniffled, willing the tears to go back down. Paul was hurting too, I knew that. He had been on the receiving end of the fatherly love that flowed through Harry Clearwater. It was as natural as breathing for him. Dad didn't need to be Paul's biological father to love him; he just did. "He was yours too," I said out loud.

He met my eye and I watched his jaw tick. "Yeah…" he nodded, "he was like my dad."

I wrapped my hands around his waist to hug him and my body physically relaxed as I made contact with him. This felt different than earlier in the bathroom. The bathroom had been absolute devastation and understanding that my father really is gone from this earth. This time…it was the silent acknowledgement that we had lost the same person. "I'm sorry," I said out loud.

"I'm sorry too," he said as he hugged me back. We still weren't ready to talk about that thing that happened at the foundation. It didn't matter right now. But we knew that every day that Paul and I didn't talk about what happened in New York, the more difficult it's going to be. But how do you work on your relationship when you're both grieving? Once things dialed down, it'll be easier to figure out what's next. He kissed me on top of my head before resting his chin on top of my head. "If you want to go home, I can take you home. You can get some rest and forget this whole thing."

I nuzzled into him closer, "I don't want to do that. You brought everyone here for me and Seth. We can still salvage the night, I think."

"Are you sure?" he double checked. I nodded. We walked back down the beach and had another drink to quench the nerves. Rachel and Rebecca looked concerned, but knowing. "Everything's fine," Paul called out to everyone.

It took a while but everyone seemed to relax again. When we settled in, I listened to everyone tell these wonderful stories about Dad. What he did for the reservation, how he was always present, how he made sure everyone knew they were loved. "He used to always come to the football games and cheer everyone on, but at the same time," Sam said with a genuine smile. "There'd be like a hundred different plays going and all you'd hear was, 'Heck yeah! Go Sam! Go Paul! Jared, kick some ass!'"

I was shocked to hear how easy it felt to laugh at all of these stories. Because they were true. My dad's favorite part of being home was the people. He was able to see what was special about everyone. That was something I always wished I'd gotten from him.

"Or do you remember when the basketball team and cheer had that combined bake sale and he went around to every booth asking for one cookie, handing everyone $20 bills, and telling us to keep the change?" Bex added.

I giggled, "He ate all of those cookies that day, by the way. He told Mom he was going to give them away, and then he ate himself sick."

I rested my head on Rachel's shoulder as Rebecca entwined our fingers together. Don't worry, Paul wasn't far away. He was sitting on the other side of Bex, with Jared.

Bex looked over at him, "I have a question for you."

"What's up, Bex?" Paul asked before taking a sip from his red solo cup. He was on his 5th drink, I think. I didn't mean to count. It was just something I noticed.

"Is it irony or just pure hilarious coincidence that Harry Clearwater gave you the birds and the bees talk only for you to birds and bees with Leah like three years later?" Bex snickered as the rest of the pack laughed. I smacked her on the leg, only making her laugh harder.

"I think it means you guys are meant to be," Rach gushed. "Maybe Harry knew you guys would get together."

I shifted a little uncomfortably; so did Paul. So did Sam. "Maybe he did," Paul shrugged. "He always knew what was best for me, even if I didn't."

"He was special that way…" I added, earnestly.

"It definitely won't be the same without him…" Jared said somberly.

The sound of the waves was louder than the silence. Bex lifted her red solo cup, "To Harry," she said.

Everyone raised their cups and all repeated the cheers, but no one clinked them together. I blinked back the tears in my eyes as I followed suit, willing myself to smile at least a little, "To Dad."

Paul discreetly wiped a tear from his cheek before tilting his cup to the rest of us. He said so quietly, almost inaudibly, "To Dad."