Authors notes

Hello readers how are you.

The last Edenian is a reworking of Swansong, which was riddled with errors and had a complicated plot that was difficult to follow. This is the simplified version, which has fewer distractions and more coherent events. A few characters have been modified or completely swapped out.

As a budding writer, your reviews are very important to me, so I will be answering them with every chapter I release.

Guest—thanks for the review, I have big plans to expand the supernatural world of twilight, borrowing elements from other fandoms to make the story more interesting.

ElenaEffe—Thank you for the Review. Oh, Bella is not a witch. she's just a talented human, I'll introduce witches later.

RolePlayingGamesLover—Yeah man, Dorian is a serious die-hard car guy. I'm trying to go sci fi, without losing the romantic feel of the story, as you will see in the following chapters as we delve into Dorian's love life.

Thank you for the reviews and enjoy the story, and feel free to leave a review if you have any comments or questions; this will help the story get better.

CHAPTER SIX

Fishing trip

The room was quiet save for the low hum of the overhead lights, a stark contrast to the chaos I had left behind in the forest. I stretched, my muscles aching as the remnants of Hansel's claws throbbed beneath my skin. Despite Carlisle's best efforts, my wounds hadn't fully healed, and I could feel the dull sting with every movement.

"Dorian, please slow down," Carlisle said gently, his brow furrowed with concern. "You're not fully healed yet."

I nodded in appreciation. "Thanks, Carlisle, for everything," I said sincerely. My voice was steady, but my body betrayed me with a slight tremor.

The others were gathered around me. Alice, Emmett, and Jasper stood closest; their expressions painted with concern. Rosalie and Edward, standing near Esme, looked more puzzled than worried, clearly piecing together the events. I could tell by the intensity of their gazes that Alice hadn't had time to fill them in on what she'd witnessed.

Alice stepped forward; her voice soft but firm. "I'm glad you're okay," she began, her golden eyes searching mine. "I saw you coming to our house earlier, but then… your future disappeared. I couldn't see anything anymore."

Her admission sent a chill down my spine. The idea of her not being able to see my future was unnerving, but there was no time to dwell on it.

"While we were trying to figure out what it meant, we heard the fight," she continued. "The screams, the growls... We came as fast as we could."

I nodded, gratitude flickering briefly through my exhaustion, but a sudden realization hit me like a lightning bolt.

"My car!" I exclaimed, wincing as I straightened up too quickly. "I left it on the side of the road. If my dad hears abo—"

Jasper interrupted smoothly, his voice calm and reassuring. "I found it. Don't worry, it's safe. I drove it back here. It's in the garage."

Relief flooded me, and I exhaled deeply. "Thanks, Jasper."

I shifted my weight and began explaining everything that had happened. "I was ambushed by Hansel and his pack. They were… different. They shifted in broad daylight, not under a full moon."

Carlisle's sharp gaze locked onto mine. "Werewolves that shift during the day?" he mused. "That's unusual. The Children of the Moon only transform during the full moon. It's intrinsic to their nature."

Rosalie crossed her arms, her tone skeptical. "What about the Quileutes? They shift at will."

Edward shook his head dismissively. "The Quileutes are not true werewolves," he said, his tone clipped. "They're shapeshifters. Their transformation is unrelated to the Children of the Moon."

The mention of the Quileutes caught my attention, and I frowned. "The Quileutes have powers too?"

Carlisle nodded, his expression softening. "Yes. Certain members of their tribe possess the ability to transform into wolves when vampires are nearby. It's an ancient trait, passed down through their bloodlines."

I nodded thoughtfully. Another piece of the supernatural puzzle. If what Lyra had told me was true, these shapeshifters might be potential allies. But that was a matter for later.

I continued recounting my story, sparing no detail about my encounter with Hansel and my subsequent journey into the mindscape. The Cullens listened intently as I described meeting Lyra, her history as an Edenian scientist, and the connection between her people's psychic energy and the supernatural creatures of Earth.

When I finished, the room fell silent. Their expressions ranged from astonishment to quiet disbelief.

"So… vampires and werewolves aren't divine punishments or curses?" Edward asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "We're… the result of forced evolution?"

I nodded, though I could see how difficult it was for them to accept. "Lyra said it wasn't intentional. The psychic energy left behind during her battle with Kragas seeped into early humans, triggering mutations. That's how creatures like you came to exist."

Carlisle broke the silence, his tone carefully measured. "This Kragas… If he's as powerful as Lyra described, why haven't we heard of him? If the Volturi knew about a being like that, they would have told us—or dealt with him."

I chuckled humorlessly, shaking my head. "The Volturi think they're the most powerful creatures on Earth, don't they?"

Edward's jaw tightened, but he didn't refute me.

"Well, if Kragas is as dangerous as Lyra claims—and if Hansel gets back to him—then your Volturi are in for a rude awakening," I said darkly. "Kragas won't care about their authority. He'll crush them like ants if they get in his way."

The room grew heavier with the weight of my words. Each of us knew, in our own way, that this wasn't just my fight anymore. This was a threat that could consume everything. And as much as I hated it, I knew Lyra was right. The time for alliances would come soon.

Carlisle began pacing the room, his measured steps filling the silence as everyone watched him. His face was etched with concentration, his mind clearly formulating plans. "We have to uncover information about this Kragas," he began, his tone steady but urgent. "It's obvious he uses other supernatural creatures as his pawns, but he's careful enough not to leave a trail behind."

"That suggests he's powerful, but paranoid," Jasper interjected, his voice calm but with an edge of calculation.

Carlisle paused mid-step and nodded. "Exactly. He's calculated, which makes him even more dangerous. We can't underestimate him."

I crossed my arms, watching Carlisle thoughtfully. "What's our first move then?"

Carlisle turned to me, his expression softening slightly. "Dorian, I know you had plans to enjoy your time in high school, but it seems this situation revolves around you. We need to find answers, and we can't let school become a distraction."

I frowned slightly. "What do you have in mind?"

"You'll have to graduate early," he said simply, as though the idea was already set in stone. "Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie, and you will all finish together. That way, once we begin our search, school won't be in the way."

I tilted my head, intrigued but skeptical. "And how exactly do we explain that to Charlie? Or even the school?"

Carlisle offered a reassuring smile. "Your grades are exceptional, Dorian. With the influence I have on the education board, it won't raise any eyebrows. As for Charlie, I'll talk to him personally. I'll make him see the importance of this opportunity for you."

I considered this for a moment and nodded. "Alright. If you think it's best."

Carlisle's gaze turned serious again. "There's more. You'll need to set up an alternate identity—one with all the essentials: passports, bank accounts, and offshore assets."

I blinked, confused. "But I already have documents. Why do I need another identity?"

"This one will be different," Carlisle explained patiently. "Your alternate identity will be that of a twenty-one-year-old. You're mature enough, and your build makes it believable. This will give us more flexibility when moving forward."

Jasper nodded in agreement. "I have a contact who can handle the documentation. Everything will be legitimate and able to pass any scrutiny. It'll take about two weeks."

Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward had been quiet throughout the conversation, their faces contemplative as they absorbed the information. Meanwhile, the weight of everything was beginning to press down on me. It wasn't just my life anymore; it was a responsibility that extended far beyond anything I'd ever imagined.

Esme must have noticed the shift in my demeanor because she stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright, Dorian?" she asked, her warm voice full of concern. "This is a heavy burden, especially for someone as young as you."

I gave her a small smile, trying to reassure her. "I'm fine, Esme. I've made it this far, haven't I? But… thank you. It means a lot."

She squeezed my shoulder gently. "You're not alone in this anymore. We're here to help you carry this burden."

Carlisle nodded in agreement; his expression resolute. "We're in this together. You're family now, Dorian."

Jasper's sharp voice cut through the moment. "We also need to begin training," he suggested. "You need to better develop and control your new powers. Without that, we're at a disadvantage."

Emmett's face lit up with excitement. "Training? Finally!" he said with a wide grin. "I've been waiting for a real challenge. You're going down this time, Dorian!"

I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at his enthusiasm. If only he knew what Lyra's unlocked power had done to me. Beating him was going to be the easiest thing I'd done all week.

But despite the levity of the moment, I knew the path ahead would be anything but easy. This wasn't just about training or forging alliances. It was about survival, for me and for everyone else.

Alice stepped forward; her golden eyes gleaming with excitement. "Now that everything's been cleared up, I think it's the perfect time to play some of my board games," she announced with a mischievous grin.

There was a collective groan from some of the others, but I noticed a spark of curiosity in their expressions. Apparently, this wasn't just any game night.

"You've got no chance, Dorian," Emmett teased, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. "Alice is unbeatable."

"She's not unbeatable," Edward corrected, smirking. "I've managed to hold her to a stalemate a few times."

Alice rolled her eyes playfully. "Well, let's see if our newcomer here can keep up."

She retrieved an elaborate chess set from the cabinet—except this wasn't just one chessboard. It was a set of three stacked vertically, connected by narrow pathways. Each piece looked custom-made, intricately carved and sparkling faintly under the overhead lights.

I raised an eyebrow. "Triple-layer chess? You're not playing around, are you?"

She giggled. "What's the fun in playing if it's too easy?"

We set up the first game, and I quickly realized just how outmatched I was. Alice's moves were deliberate, her strategies so many steps ahead that I could barely keep up. Within fifteen minutes, I was staring at the board in dismay as she claimed victory with a gleeful clap of her hands.

"I told you," Jasper said from the sidelines, his face smug as he gave me a knowing look.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," I muttered. "She's good."

"She's more than good," Edward added with a chuckle. "She anticipates every move."

As Alice reset the board for round two, I thought about that. She anticipates every move, huh? Well, two can play at that game, shortie.

I leaned into my psychic abilities, discreetly reading her thoughts. Sure enough, I saw how she was focusing on my decisions, visualizing the future of the board based on what she predicted I would do. Her mind moved quickly, branching into multiple paths, but I realized something: her visions only solidified when I committed to a choice.

I smirked inwardly. If I could read her thoughts and use them against her, maybe I could level the playing field.

This time, I played unpredictably, intentionally veering off from logical strategies just to throw her off. Her frustration became apparent as the game dragged on, her thoughts jumping erratically as she struggled to lock onto my moves.

Finally, after nearly an hour, we reached a stalemate. Alice sighed dramatically, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. "Fine, you win. Well, sort of."

Edward chuckled from across the room. "Congratulations, Dorian. You're now officially in the club. Only I have ever managed to stalemate her before."

Alice gave him a mock glare before turning her attention back to me, a glimmer of respect in her eyes. "You're sneaky. I like it."

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and friendly banter as we cycled through Alice's collection of complex games. Emmett got a bit too competitive, Rosalie remained aloof but participated when goaded, and Jasper quietly dominated a few rounds himself. Even Edward joined in, his calm demeanor hiding a ruthless streak when it came to strategy.

By the time the clock struck 9 PM, I was genuinely enjoying myself. I stretched as I stood, stifling a yawn. "Alright, I should probably head home. Charlie's going to wonder where I've been."

Esme smiled warmly. "Drive safe, dear."

The others bid me goodbye as I made my way out to the garage and climbed into my car. The drive home was quiet, my mind churning with everything that had happened that day. From my battle with Hansel to my conversation with Lyra, and now bonding with the Cullens, it felt like my life had taken a dramatic turn.

When I finally pulled into the driveway, I noticed the warm light still shining from the living room window. Inside, Charlie sat on the couch, a baseball game playing on the TV.

"Hey, Dad," I greeted as I stepped inside, kicking off my shoes.

"Hey, kid," he replied, looking up from the screen. "Late night?"

"Yeah, just hung out with some friends. Nothing too crazy." I left out the more exciting details, figuring he didn't need to hear about werewolves, mindscapes, or plans to fight a cosmic tyrant.

"Good," he said with a nod, turning his attention back to the game.

I made my way upstairs, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit me. After responding to a few emails from Mom, letting her know things were fine, I finally crawled into bed. As my head hit the pillow, my thoughts drifted once more to Lyra's warning and the task ahead of me.

The weight of it all was daunting, but as I fell asleep, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. I wasn't in this alone anymore.

The days slipped by, and before I knew it, the weekend had arrived. Jasper had arranged for me to meet his associate, J. Jenks, an influential lawyer with a reputation that seemed to precede him. As we entered his opulent downtown office, the lavish decor screamed wealth and power. A polished mahogany desk dominated the room, flanked by leather armchairs and a wall of gleaming law books, but what caught my attention was the man himself.

J. Jenks stood as soon as Jasper walked in, his face draining of color. Fear clung to him like a second skin, his hands trembling slightly as he gestured for us to sit. I wondered if Jasper was using his abilities to project calm—or perhaps intimidation—but as the meeting unfolded, it became clear that Jenks's unease stemmed from years of dealing with Jasper.

After a terse exchange of pleasantries, Jenks asked for my details. He meticulously noted everything, his gold pen scratching across paper with precise strokes. "Do you want to use a different name for your identity?" he asked, looking at me over his glasses.

I paused for a moment, then smirked. "Dorian Gray," I replied.

Jasper chuckled softly beside me, clearly catching the literary reference. Jenks, however, remained stone-faced, quickly jotting it down.

Once the details were finalized, Jenks promised to have everything ready within two weeks. "You'll receive legitimate documents—passports, IDs, bank accounts—the works. All of it will pass any scrutiny," he assured me, though his voice wavered slightly when his eyes flicked to Jasper.

We left the office, Jasper still amused by my name choice. "Dorian Gray, huh? Bit on the nose, don't you think?"

I shrugged. "It fits."

The weekend was approaching fast, and Mike Newton had planned a beach party. I'd initially thought about going, but my car was a priority. It needed serious work, and I had scheduled an appointment at a custom shop in Port Angeles. Bella, of course, had agreed to the beach trip, and Mike—ever the lovesick puppy—abandoned any pretense of inviting me. He'd latched onto Bella like she was the last life raft in a storm, completely oblivious to Jessica's not-so-subtle attempts to get his attention.

During lunch, I sat with the Cullens, as had become routine. Across the cafeteria, Bella and Edward sat at their usual table, their quiet conversation punctuated by stolen glances.

Emmett leaned back in his chair; arms crossed. "You're skipping out on training this weekend?" He feigned offense, though the mischievous glint in his eye betrayed him.

"I've got to get my car fixed, besides, don't you have a "camping trip" to go to?" I replied.

"About time," he teased. "That piece of crap's been rattling around town long enough."

Rosalie smirked at this, chiming in, "I'm curious to see what it'll look like when you're done. You've been awfully tight-lipped about those upgrades."

I grinned. Rosalie was the only one I'd shared my plans with—everything from the sleek body kit to the new rims and paint job. I wanted the car to look sporty but still close to its original style.

After school, I went straight home and spent the rest of the afternoon working on the engine. The less the shop had to do, the quicker they could finish the bodywork and install the upgrades. My hands were blackened with grease by the time I called it a night, but I felt a sense of satisfaction as I stood back and admired the cleaned-up engine.

The next morning, I woke early and loaded up my car. After letting Bella and Dad know I was off, I hit the road. Bella was spending the day with Mike and the others, and Dad mentioned he'd be heading out with Harry, Billy, and their friends for a fishing trip the following day. He'd even agreed to let me tag along, promising to convince the others to bring their kids.

The drive to Port Angeles was smooth, the early morning sun casting golden hues across the horizon. The hum of my car's engine was steady, though the occasional rattle reminded me why I was making the trip.

By midmorning, I arrived in the city. The streets were already bustling with activity, the sidewalks filled with people sipping coffee, browsing shops, or heading to work. The car custom shop wasn't far from the city center, tucked away in an industrial district where the faint smell of motor oil and burnt rubber hung in the air.

I pulled into the shop's lot, parking among a collection of souped-up vehicles that gleamed in the sunlight. A mechanic with a grease-streaked apron and a clipboard approached as I stepped out of the car.

"You Dorian?" he asked, giving my car a quick once-over.

"That's me," I replied, handing him the keys.

He whistled low as he walked around the vehicle. "You've got your work cut out for you. What're we talking—full body restoration?"

"Yeah, plus a body kit, rims, and a fresh coat of white paint." I spoke.

He nodded, jotting down notes on his clipboard. "We'll get it done. Should be ready by the end of the day."

I thanked him and made my way into the office to finalize the paperwork, already envisioning what the finished car would look like. This was the start of something new—both for the car and for me.

After leaving my car at the customs shop, I felt a mix of anticipation and dread. The upgrades I requested, combined with the shop's suggestions—a turbo system and a high-end sound system—pushed my budget to its absolute limit. Despite the financial sting, I knew it would be worth it. This wasn't just a car; it was a project, a symbol of my progress.

The shop guys promised the overhaul would take a full day, giving me time to kill in Port Angeles. I wandered around town, stopping for coffee at a small café and browsing a few stores. The hours passed slowly, my thoughts frequently drifting back to the shop and my car. By 4 PM, I couldn't wait any longer. I made my way back, my excitement barely contained as I stepped into the workshop.

The moment I entered, my Civic rolled into view, and my jaw nearly hit the floor.

Gone was the battered, faded paint job and the panels that had hung on for dear life. In its place stood a masterpiece: a wide-bodied white Honda Civic with a flawless coat of pearl white paint that shimmered under the workshop lights. Aggressive black five-spoke Spoon rims wrapped in street-legal racing tires gave the car a stance that screamed power and precision.

"Damn," I muttered, walking around the car, unable to tear my eyes away. "You guys outdid yourselves with this."

The head mechanic, a burly man with grease-streaked hands and a proud grin, leaned against the hood. "Glad you like it. We put in the work."

"How much power is she cranking out now?" I asked, already buzzing with excitement.

He smirked. "You're looking at 400 horsepower and 340 Nm of torque. Small package, big punch."

I let out a low whistle, circling the car again and taking in every detail. The wide-body kit hugged the car perfectly, and the new exhaust system gleamed. "Damn," I repeated, shaking my head.

"We could push more if you're interested," he offered, his grin widening.

I shook my head, laughing. "No, this is plenty. I've got to get used to this beast first."

After thanking the team and paying the remainder of the bill (which stung, but not enough to dampen my excitement), I slid into the driver's seat. The interior was just as impressive as the exterior: a new digital dashboard displayed every stat I could need, and the upgraded sound system was ready to be connected to my mp3 player via Auxiliary cable.

I turned the key, and the engine roared to life, the turbo flutter and deep exhaust note filling the air. It wasn't just a sound; it was a symphony, each note vibrating through my chest.

Pulling out of the shop, I decided to give the new setup a proper test. I floored it, and the car shot forward like a rocket. The turbo whistled, and the exhaust crackled and growled, a beautiful cacophony that made my pulse race.

The digital dash showed my speed climbing rapidly—120 km/h, 180 km/h, 240 km/h. By the time I hit 280 km/h, the Civic was tearing up the road, but I felt in control. My reflexes were sharper than ever, my enhanced reaction times keeping me steady even as the world blurred around me.

When I finally pulled into the driveway at home, I parked next to Bella's truck, the Civic gleaming under the porch light. I stepped out and turned back to admire it, a grin stretching across my face.

Dad's reaction tomorrow morning was going to be priceless. I couldn't wait.

The day had barely broken when I found myself wide awake, brimming with excitement. My Civic gleamed in the driveway, pristine from an early morning cleaning session. Not that it needed it, but I couldn't help myself. Today was the day I got to show off my new and improved ride, and Dad had no idea what he was in for.

As I finished loading the last of the fishing gear, Dad stepped out of the house, coffee in hand. He froze mid-step when his eyes landed on the car.

"Dory," he said slowly, his tone a mixture of disbelief and suspicion. "How did you—where did you get the money for all of this? Please tell me you didn't dip into your college fund."

I couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face, a blend of awe and fatherly concern. "Relax, Dad. I used the money I earned from those tournaments I used to compete in. Been saving up for years. The college fund is untouched."

Dad nodded, his gaze sweeping over the Civic. "Still," he said with a raised brow, "I hope you're not planning to turn into one of those street racers. Because I'll tell you now, Dorian Swan, I wouldn't hesitate to arrest my own son."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Don't worry, Dad. My racing stays on my computer. Let's hit the road."

As we loaded the last of the gear into the trunk, Dad continued to inspect the car with skepticism. "Are you sure this is the same Civic?" he asked, peeking into the interior.

"Yep," I said with a grin, sliding into the driver's seat.

He followed, taking in the sleek new dashboard. "It looks like something out of a movie," he muttered, shaking his head.

I plugged in my MP3 player via the auxiliary cable and scrolled to my playlist. The first song blasted through the upgraded speakers, earning a grumble from Dad. "This your idea of music?"

Laughing, I started the car. The engine roared to life, and the turbo's flutter echoed like a symphony of raw power. Dad's eyes snapped to mine, his look screaming, This better be legal.

"It's still street legal, Dad," I assured him with a grin. "Just a little quicker now."

As we drove toward La Push, I could see him gradually start to relax. The car's smooth ride and powerful yet controlled acceleration worked their magic. By the time we reached the reservation, Dad was nodding in approval.

"I see why you love this car, son," he admitted as we pulled into Billy's driveway. "It's a hell of a machine."

"Thanks, Dad," I said, feeling a surge of pride.

Billy and Jacob were already outside, waiting to greet us. Jacob's reaction was immediate. He rushed past Dad to get to me, his wide eyes fixed on the Civic.

"Whoa, dude!" he exclaimed, circling the car. "This is yours? Bella told me it was some beat-up Civic. If this is her definition of 'beat-up,' I've been seriously misinformed."

I raised an eyebrow, amused by his enthusiasm. "I guess Bella has a... unique perspective," I said, shaking his outstretched hand.

Jacob grinned. "I'm Jacob, by the way. Bella's probably mentioned me."

"She has," I replied.

Billy rolled closer in his wheelchair, greeting Dad warmly before turning to me. I shook his hand and exchanged polite introductions.

"Nice ride," Billy remarked, giving the Civic an approving nod.

"Thanks," I said, beaming.

Jacob couldn't seem to stop buzzing around the car. "I'm working on a project myself," he said. "A VW golf MK1 Rabbit. It's still in pieces, but I'll show it to you next time you're here."

"Looking forward to it," I said, appreciating his enthusiasm.

The sound of gravel crunching under tires signaled Harry Clearwater's arrival. His rusty old truck pulled up, and out stepped Harry, his son Seth, and a girl who immediately radiated irritation. She crossed her arms and let out an audible groan.

"Dad, seriously? A fishing trip? I have way better stuff to do," she complained, shooting her father an annoyed look.

Harry chuckled good-naturedly, unfazed. "You spend too much time indoors, Leah. A little fresh air and time with kids your age won't kill you."

Behind me, Jacob leaned in and muttered under his breath, "Party spoiler." I rolled my eyes at his comment but didn't let it distract me. Stepping forward, I tried to ease the tension by introducing myself.

"Hi, how are you? I'm Dorian," I said, offering my hand with a friendly smile.

The girl, Leah, looked at me as if I'd just asked her to eat a worm. Her dark eyes narrowed in suspicion, and for a moment, I thought she might not even acknowledge me. Just as I started to lower my hand, she sighed and shook it reluctantly.

"Leah. Leah Clearwater," she said curtly.

Before the awkward silence could take root, her younger brother, Seth, bounced forward with uncontainable energy. "I'm Seth Clearwater! That Civic is so cool! I can't wait for this trip!"

Leah rolled her eyes at her brother's enthusiasm. "Yeah, great," she muttered under her breath.

I had to admit, Leah's attitude might have been prickly, but she was stunning. Her copper-toned skin glowed in the morning light, and her jet-black hair framed her sharp features perfectly. Even her scowl couldn't hide her natural beauty. She was of average height, her athletic build accentuated by a subtle, graceful strength.

We loaded up for the trip, with the adults climbing into Billy's truck while the kids piled into my Civic. Leah sat stiffly in the backseat beside Seth, her arms crossed as if shielding herself from the enthusiasm around her. Jacob sat in the passenger seat; his usual grin plastered across his face.

As we followed the truck to the fishing spot, I decided to try breaking the ice. "So, Leah, what kind of music do you like?" I asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

She shrugged. "Whatever."

"Okay, 'whatever' is a pretty broad genre," I teased lightly. "You've got to give me more than that."

She glanced out the window, clearly trying to ignore me. But a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, even if she was quick to hide it. Seth, oblivious to the tension, chatted animatedly about fishing and cars.

By the time we arrived at the fishing spot, Leah's demeanor had softened, if only slightly. We unloaded our gear, and the group spread out along the water. I found myself paired with Leah at a quieter spot, away from the main crowd.

She cast her line into the water and glanced at me. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

I blinked, caught off guard. "Why not? You seem cool. I just thought we could be friends."

Her hardened expression wavered. "Even after how I've been ignoring you all morning?"

I chuckled, adjusting my own line. "Trust me, I've dealt with worse. Don't worry about it."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she didn't push further. Instead, her scowl melted away, replaced by a thoughtful expression. "Huh. Most people don't bother."

"Most people don't have my patience," I said with a wink.

She actually laughed—a soft, genuine sound that seemed to surprise even her.

As the day went on, we fell into an easy rhythm. Leah and I talked more, and she let her guard down bit by bit. I also got to know Billy and Harry better, and Seth's boundless energy made everything more fun. By the time we were packing up to leave, the day felt like a win all around.

Driving back, Seth was all smiles, chatting about the fish we caught and the Civic's upgrades. When we dropped him and Leah off at their house, Leah lingered by the car.

She pulled out her phone and typed her landline number into my contact list. "Call me some time," she said, her tone casual but her expression surprisingly earnest. "Maybe we can hang out."

"Definitely," I said with a nod.

She stepped back, a faint smile on her lips as I pulled away. Jacob, sitting beside me, watched the interaction with wide eyes.

"Okay, I've never seen Leah be that nice to anyone," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Not since... well..."

He trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.

"Since what?" I pressed.

"Rez gossip stays on the Rez," he said firmly, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

I laughed at his cryptic response as I dropped him off at Billy's. Before he left, Jacob pointed to me and said, "You better come back to see the Rabbit, man."

"You've got it," I said.

Finally, I picked up Dad, and we headed home with our catch. The day had turned out better than I could've imagined. As the sun dipped below the horizon, I couldn't help but feel that something had shifted—not just with Leah, but with my growing connection to this tight-knit community.