'Nother story that won't leave me alone. I had this chapter written since before I started Open Eyes, so I thought I'd share it with you. I'll be updating this one and MTMOL tomorrow as soon as I get up. School's starting in a week, so my updates will be more sparse, but I guess the impact of all the learning and junk will make them better. Hopefully. Anyway, enjoy! Ps; I know I'm on Team Edward...but the wolves are just too fun not to write about, you know?

Love,

Angie Anonymous

ONE.

It was raining.

I hadn't been to La Push since I was one, but I hated it. I didn't even remember what it looked like, but I didn't want to be there. But what I hated even more was my mother for dumping me off all of a sudden with my older, half brother. He's important, she'd say, chief of the whole tribe! Oh, she was so proud of her little Samuel. But was she proud of me? Not at all.

Well, I guess I didn't give her much reason to be proud of me. I was bad. No, really, bad. I'd been arrested more times than I can count, and gotten kicked out of nearly all the high schools in LA. I snickered. It was the teacher's fault for annoying me, I couldn't help it that I had fallen asleep in her class. She should have left me be. Obviously, though, it was the last straw for my mother. I'd explained to her that I didn't actually shove the ruler down the woman's throat, I had just threatened to do it. That wasn't what she wanted to hear.

So, here we were; the back of my mother's minivan stacked with two suitcases full of my clothes and other needed things, and everything else left back in LA.

Sam was my only living relative willing to take me in. I didn't have a grudge against him, though, because he hadn't promised my mother that he could change me, like the other's had. He said he'd do his best to make me comfortable, and he was glad to have his little sister come live with him. I wasn't so little anymore, at sixteen. But I was short.

Sam was a lot older than me. Let's put it this way, when I was born, he was about to turn twenty. Odd, eh? And that was sixteen years ago, so he'd have to be, what, thirty-six? At least. And he was due to be married. My mother wouldn't shut up about that. She was just so excited that Sam was finally going to marry Emily Young, the girl he'd been with for all of those sixteen years I'd never seen him. Another strange thing; I never met my brother face-to-face. Not once, not ever. Of course he called on my birthdays and regularly to see how I was doing, and how mom was doing. I liked him, I guess, he had a nice sounding voice, anyway.

I glared at the windshield, catching my reflection in the contrast between it and the sky, dark with rain clouds. I stared at my pale green eyes, my tan skin. My small nose and my full lips, kind of making me look like a mouse that got botox. My waist length, light brown hair was voluminous, due to the layers my mother had forced me to get. It fell pin-straight against my back and shoulders. I guess I wasn't all that bad looking, in the end, but I wasn't beautiful. Rather plain, actually, with a slender athletic build. The scowl I was wearing wasn't attractive, and my mother chose this moment to comment on this.

"Nayeli, come on," she plead with me for the millionth time, "it's not going to be that bad. We've already got you enrolled in high school. And Emily's niece is your age! She just turned sixteen." She took her brown eyes off of the road for a fleeting moment to glance at my face. "You'd better wipe that frown off your face right now, young lady."

My jaw came together with an audible snap, as I spat my mother's least favorite retort in her face.

"Make me."

Mom stomped hard on the brakes, causing me to fly forward, toward the dashboard. I flung both of my hands out in front of me, catching myself before my face got acquainted with the radio. Luckily, we were at a red light, or the rest of the cars on the road would have thought her completely insane.

"Nayeli Abigail Uley," she thundered, and I closed my mouth again. I knew I'd upset her when she used my full name. I averted my light eyes from her dark ones, pulling my knees up to my chest and crossing my arms over them. I glared down at my old, beat up Converse.

My mother was beautiful. Everyone knew it. But she had a commitment problem, as I liked to call it. Not that I really knew or anything, but she divorced my father the previous year, and that was another reason why we weren't on the best of terms.

I inherited most of my looks from her. She was also short and athletic, with pitch black hair that fell just past her shoulders in a mass of curls. We had the same sharp cheek bones and rounded face; she was one hundred percent Quileute, Native American. Which made me fifty percent. I definitely wasn't going to fit in here.

Mom began driving again, slower this time, as we passed the "Welcome to La Push" sign. It was old and made of wood, depicting the stark, white words over a painted picture of the forest. I groaned, pulling my iPod of my black hoodie pocket and turning it on. I put the buds in my ears and turned "Jamie All Over" up as loud as it could go, attempting to drown out the sounds of the other cars outside the windows. Rain pelted angrily against them, and I noticed my mother flick the wipers on to a greater speed. Amazing. Washington was known for the very little sunlight, and the cold conditions year round. Definitely different than the constantly warm, sunny LA that I'd grown to love so much. It just wasn't fair.

During my self-pity, Mom turned the car sharply onto a dirt drive, following it slightly into the forest. I stared around me, utterly confused, as we drove a few feet into a dense forest.

"What the hell?" I mumbled, pulling my headphones out of my ears and turning off my iPod. My mother glared at me for my choice of words; mom was a freak about swearing, while I cussed like a sailor.

Suddenly, the tiny house came into view. It looked more like a bungalow, really, than a house. There were telltale signs that someone had spruced it up in the past few years; chipping paint, and half of the house was a dingy gray, and the rest was white.

Mom jumped out of the car like it was on fire. She slid open the doors on her side, pulling my luggage out onto the small porch. I grabbed my other suitcase, pulling my hood up over my head to hide my hair from the drizzle. I glanced around; nothing but trees and the house. Awesome.

"Sam!" Mom called, opening the tiny screen door like she came there every day. There was the shuffling of feet from upstairs, and then the creak of the stairs. Someone heavy was descending upon us.

Suddenly, it seemed like the light from the kitchen had been blocked by an eclipse. A large, russet skinned man was hugging Mom with all his mite, a huge, stupid smile splayed across his features. When he straightened up, dropping my mother from his embrace, large didn't seem to quite cover his sheer mass. Enormous might work better. And then, he whipped around and bared down upon me.

"Nayeli!" the man cried, throwing his arms around me. His searing hot arms. I nearly yelped in pain. My feet left the floor as I patted the man's back awkwardly, knocking the air out of me.

"S-Sam?" I managed to huff as he plopped me back down on the ground. His smile grew wider. "You look exactly as I imagined," he cooed, taking my face in both of his gigantic hands. One of them could grasp my whole head and twist it off like a doll's. But Sam was surprisingly gentle when he handled me. Maybe because he was over a foot and a half taller than me, and could span my body three times long ways.

"You look…large," I said, crossing my arms and appraising him. His gray t-shirt strained heavily across his well developed chest, and his arms were the width of my head. He was at least six foot eight. Sam's booming laughter filled the room. "You should see the rest of the p-" he stopped speaking suddenly, disguising it as a coughing fit, shifting his eyes around the room. "'Scuse me. You should see the rest of the guys."

I was well aware that he wasn't originally going to say 'guys'. But I was too interested and surprised to care. "There are more of you gigantic freaks?" I asked lightly, poking at Sam's bicep with my pointer finger. "Damn, I could break a hand on these things. How many days a week do you work out?" Sam just laughed at me again, and called, "Emily!"

More shuffling of feet. The stairs didn't creak as loudly this time as a slender, beautiful Native American woman leapt lightly into the kitchen.

She had long, straight, black hair that fell to the middle of her back. Her dark eyes were kind, and she would have been exceptional looking, except for three, pink, jagged scars that tugged down her right eye and that side of her mouth. But when she smiled, I felt my heart warm. She really was pretty.

"You must be Nayeli," she said nicely, stepping forward to offer her hand, "I'm Emily, Sam's fiancée. I'm really glad you're coming to stay with us." Her words were so sincere, I felt myself smiling back at her. "Yeah, me too," I said, and it was only half a lie. I really didn't want to leave LA, or my friends, or Dad. But, I guess if everyone was going to be kind here, I couldn't complain, right?

"Are either of you hungry?" Emily asked, bustling about the kitchen. I finally pulled my hood down and shook my hair out, smoothing it down in the places where it'd become gnarled. Sam plopped himself down on one of the old kitchen chairs. It groaned respectively as his weight settled.

"No, thank you," Mom said kindly, leaning against the table and smoothing Sam's short hair from his forehead. She looked at him fondly, and then turned to glare at me for not answering.

"Huh? Oh, naw, I'm not hungry," I muttered, crossing my arms and glaring directly back in her face. She looked away, back to Sam, and I took to fingering a small hole near the pocket of my jeans. Well, this was sufficiently awkward.

"So," Sam suddenly thundered, making me jump nearly out of my skin, "sixteen, eh?" He whistled, like it was a big deal.

"Yeah," I said grouchily, looking back down to the oh so entertaining hole in my pants, "been sixteen for a good two months. You called, remember?" I saw him grin wryly out of the corner of my eye. "Got quite an attitude, don't you?" he asked, folding his hands behind his head and leaning his chair back on two legs. I groaned again, and I nodded.

"You're lucky she likes you guys or she'd threaten to shove a ruler down your throat," Mom piped up, once again glaring at me with narrowed eyes. I flung my arms out to the sides. "She woke me up! I didn't sleep very well the night before, sue me for being grumpy!" I heard Sam guffaw, and Emily turned around to face me, a shocked expression on her face.

"You threatened to shove a ruler down your teacher's throat?" She asked, her own equally scarred right hand flying to her neck. I let out a dismissive chuckle. "Yeah. I'm not too good with schools." My mother snorted.

"'Not too good'?" she quoted, her hands clasped against her body hips, "you will behave this time, young lady, or it's boot camp for you! And no cell phone!" My hand flew to the LG Rumor in my hoodie pocket, and my eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't dare," I stated venomously, and Mom opened her mouth to reply, but the kitchen door banged open again.

Eight other ridiculously huge men (and one woman) floated through, each shirtless (well, except for the girl, of course), each dark skinned. I felt my green eyes widen as I stared at them, all plopping down around the kitchen like they lived here. Did they live here? My heart nearly stopped.

Sam shook each of their hands in turn, smiling at them. I pulled myself closer to the counter in an attempt to give them all more room. Was everyone in La Push freakishly large?

"Guys, this is my little sister, Nayeli," Sam came to stand by me after he'd introduced Mom, who was also beginning to say goodbye to all of them. I gave them a small smile as each brown eye turned to stare at me. "That's Embry, Jacob, Quil, Seth, Leah, Jared, Collin, and Brady." As Sam listed their names, the owner waved. The one called Jacob slapped me a high five that I had to jump to return. He laughed.

Meanwhile, Sam's eyes were scanning the faces, his eyebrows pulled together. "Where's Paul?" he asked. There was another one?

The one called Embry spoke up first. "He's running a little late, said he'd get here a few minutes after the rest of us." Sam only nodded.

The next half hour went by slowly. Mom had said her goodbyes, but kept getting sidetracked into conversation. I was almost free of her. Almost.

And now, finally, as it neared six o'clock, she stood up, brushing her shirt off. "I really should get going now. It's a long drive back to LA," she smiled pointedly at me. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. She gave Emily a quick hug and waved goodbye to the rest, who'd I grown to like more and more. We got along great; they cussed like sailors and had their minds in the gutter as well.

She stopped and gave Sam a motherly kiss, fawning over him for another few seconds. And then, she turned to face me for the final time. Mom wrapped one of her arms around me awkwardly, but I only crossed mine against my stomach tightly. She sensed my resentment and pulled back, biting her lip. "Be good," she ordered, pointing a bony finger in my face. I nodded, scowling, as she turned to leave.

I heard the minivan roar to life and peal out of the dirt drive. Once I was sure the tires had hit pavement, I let out the breath I'd been holding since she'd first touched me. Sam was watching me with an interested expression on his face as the door banged open again.

The man was huge, just like the others, and shirtless. He had slightly lighter hair than the others, but the same dark, russet skin. And, I noticed, I found him exponentially handsome.

"Hey, Paul," Sam said, offering his hand to the newcomer. Paul's head had been bowed against the rain until Sam had spoken to him, and he now looked up.

His eyes were a deep brown, his cheekbones not as prominent as the rest. His jaw was squared and clean shaven. I found myself staring.

And then his eyes found mine, and locked there.

I blinked, and turned my eyes away, folding my arms across my stomach again. I was doing my best to look nonchalant, but Paul's fierce gaze was boring straight into my skull. I nearly felt digging holes in my face. Everyone else's eyes were flicking nervously from me to Paul, and the room had become deathly still. I felt Sam stiffen beside me. "Paul," he said warningly, slowly, stepping in front of me to hide me from view. I craned my head around the side of his huge body, trying to see what was going on.

Paul had snapped his gaze away from me, and was now staring at Sam with an apologetic expression donning his features. The corners of his mouth were pulled down in a frown and his brows knit together. I saw Sam's arms fold firmly across his chest. "Walk with me, Paul," he said quietly, stepping away from me and dragging a very fearful looking Paul out of the kitchen and into the rain. The room was silent as each pair of eyes watched them go.

"Never thought it'd happen," Collin said, rubbing the back of his head. Embry nodded, his eyes wide. Jacob's mouth was hanging at the hinges, wide with shock. "Wow," Brady and Jared mumbled at the same moment.

I just glared at them all, confusion lighting my eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked, my arms tightening. No one answered, in stead, Emily placed both of her hands on my shoulders and started to guide me out of the kitchen and up the stairs. "Come on, let's go get you unpacked."

I wasn't blind enough to see her glare at the people in the kitchen, a message hidden in her face; don't say another word.

I struggled against Emily's firm grasp. "You're going to have to tell me what's going on sometime, you know," I growled as we headed slowly up the stairs. Emily pushed me farther with her shoulder, dragging both of my heavy suitcases with not much ease. I sighed, leaned down, and grabbed them from her. "You don't have to carry these," I said, now allowing myself to be nudged up the stairs, "you're letting me stay with you, after all." I almost felt the smile grow across her face.

My room wasn't large. The cream colored carpet and white walls made it look bright, even in the dark. Emily flicked the light on.

The bed and black comforter were the only things that really belonged to me. My mother had sent the queen sized contraptions earlier in the week, so Emily and Sam wouldn't have to buy me some. The bed rested against the wall to the far left, and beside it was a small, white cabinet. There was a desk on the far right, and a white dresser and mirror. Overall, it was nice.

I set my suitcases down on the bed, unzipping the first. It was nearly filled to the brim with denim; I was a jeans fanatic. I pulled a few pairs out, sifting frantically, until my white Apple laptop came into view, along with my iPod speaker station. I sighed. They both looked to be in good health. I pulled my laptop out and set it on the desk, and plugged in the speakers. My iPod was thus put in place, and Say Anything began to fill the room.

Emily had set my other suitcase down on the bed and zipped it open, pulling out some of my shirts, when Sam called her name from the first floor. She glanced toward the door, then back to me, biting her lip. I smiled.

"Go ahead down to him," I said, waving her away kindly, "I can take it from here. Thanks." Emily beamed, and jogged quickly out of the room.

I pressed my fists to my hips, staring around at the empty walls. That would definitely have to change. Next time I hit Port Angeles, I'm buying posters, I thought, picking up where Emily left off. I pulled out all my brand new long sleeved shirts and thermals, grimacing at them. They were definitely my style, but I didn't like the fact that I actually had to wear them. I was used to heat and sun, not cold and clouds. I sighed, fitting them all to the hangers, and moved to my short sleeved shirts. Those were in ample supply, so I picked two drawers and separated the plain ones from the ones with print on them.

Needless to say, I was already bored.

I got all my clothes put away in a short amount of time; nearly an hour. It was already seven-thirty, too early for sleep. With a sickening jolt, I realized that I started school tomorrow.

La Push high school couldn't possibly be frightening. I mean, with around three-hundred students -total- how could I really not fit in? Everyone knew each other.

Exactly. Everyone knew each other. And I'd be the freak from LA, living with her older brother, the Chief of the tribe, because she kept messing up and finally drove her already stressed out mother to the brink. But I tried not to think about it. Instead, I sang along to the song that was now blaring from the speakers as I rolled my socks together in mismatched pairs.

"Please run, please run,

Please run away with me.

Please come, please come,

Please come and stay with me.

I don't know what to do if once more I lose you.

It would tear me in two."

I shimmied my hips in time with the beat, throwing another pair of socks and a pair of underwear into the drawers I'd picked out for the individual items. I was a neat freak, that was an obvious fact, and everything in my room had it's place. Dad used to say it was a mild form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

"You have an amazing voice."

The sudden voice made me scream and jump around, causing me to drop the armful of brightly-colored bras I'd just been meaning to put away.

Paul stood in the doorway, his hands in his jeans pockets. His eyes flashed to the pile of undergarments at my feet, and then back to my face. He smirked.

"Didn't mean to scare you," he muttered, rolling his eyes. I carefully controlled my facial expression, keeping it neutral instead of going straight to glare-mode. "You standing in my doorway being a creeper didn't scare me," I said lightly, leaning down and picking up the clothing and shoving it roughly into it's drawer, "your face is enough to frighten anyone." Though he was feet away, I could almost feel him tense.

"That's how you're going to be after I just paid you a compliment?" he growled, suddenly closer than I'd last thought he was. When I turned around, I was staring straight at the lower part of his chest. My eyes grew wide.

Paul was staring down at me, his expression a mixture of anger and amusement. There was an unfathomable emotion in his eyes. When he noticed me staring, he turned away sharply. He leaned across my bed and picked up my studded belts, hanging them gently on the hook on the front of my now closed closet door. I watched him warily. "What are you doing?"

He turned to look at me, one brow corked. "Helping you unpack."

I planted my hands on my hips and shifted my weight from my right leg to my left. "I don't need help, I'm almost done, anyway," I said, still put out and angry at the fact that I'd be starting eleventh grade at La Push high school tomorrow. As if he read my mind, Paul began to speak.

"So, school tomorrow," he mused, placing his hands on the small of his back and leaning to the right and the left. The joints of his spine cracked angrily. The muscles of his abdomen rippled beautifully. I tried not to stare, but I was doing a horrible job of it.

"What's it to you?" I spat, turning around and shoving some more jeans into the drawer. I immediately regretted what I'd said. Why was I always so mean to everyone? I turned around, my eyes downcast and my mouth poised open to speak.

"Look, I'm-" I stopped speaking. Paul was gone, the door swinging gently on it's hinges where he'd blown through it silently. "-sorry." I finished, snarling under my breath. Stupid, enormous freak.

I transferred the rest of my clothes to their respective places. When I was done, it was nearly eight-thirty. Time to shower, I guess.

I picked up one of the fluffy white towels that Emily had left on my desk, and started toward the cramped bathroom. I set the towel on the sink, pulling my toothbrush out of my pocket, where I'd placed it before leaving the room. I ran the water over it and squirted some minty-smelling toothpaste across the bristles. As I brushed, I seethed.

Stupid Paul. I was about to apologize before he got all huffy and stormed out. Well, he sure as hell wasn't getting an apology now. I spit, and washed my brush off, placing it in the medicine cabinet on the shelf with Emily and Sam's. I sighed again, and peeled my clothes off, turning the shower on full blast.

I was freezing. But, then again, I was always freezing. My temperature was only a chilly ninety five point two. Why? I have no idea. I got it from Dad, I think. Anyway, it always left me cold, even during the hottest months of summer. That's the reason I was always able to wear jeans in LA, even during august, and not die of heat stroke.

The shower nearly scalded my skin right off my bones. But that's how I liked it.

I lathered my body with my own body wash; vanilla scented. I loved the scent of vanilla. I had shampoo and conditioner of the same flavor, along with body spray that I used up like a leech. I managed to get my hands on four full bottles of said body spray before I was forced to move to no-man's-land. So it should last me a good few months.

As I rinsed and squirted the shampoo into my palm, my thoughts reluctantly fell back to Paul. Why had he been staring at me like that in the kitchen, like I was something he'd never seen before? Well, of course he hadn't seen me before, but I was sure he'd seen a sixteen year old girl. There had to be plenty of those around. I wondered how old he was. His sheer size made him look around twenty-five, but his face looked much younger. In fact, even Sam's face looked extremely young. He looked about twenty, especially when he smiled. Everyone else too. Was there something in the water here at La Push? The Fountain of Youth brewing somewhere in the forest? I'd have to find it.

I laughed at myself, rinsing the shampoo and conditioner out of my hair. I must be going crazy.

I shut the water off and stepped out into the chilly bathroom, wrapping the towel firmly around myself and shaking my hair into the tub like a dog. I immediately began to shiver, as was custom after a shower, so I pointedly ignored it and gathered my clothes from the floor. I darted through the short hallway and shut my door firmly, locking it. The last thing I needed was my brother barging in on me in a state of undress.

I pulled out a large, black Slayer t-shirt that belonged to my Dad. I put on my bright green bra and pulled the shirt over my head, choosing a pair of polka dotted boy shorts. I pulled those on last, and grabbed my gel-handled brush from my bed-side table. I ran it through my hair quickly, plugging in the blow-dryer as I did. This was my nightly routine: put on pajamas, blow-dry hair, fall asleep.

It was nearly ten o'clock when I finally unplugged the blow-dryer and ran the brush through my hair again. It lay smooth and straight against my back. I fluffed my layers a bit, and rolled over onto my bed, burrowing myself tightly under the covers. It was surprisingly warm under the blankets, seeing as the room and the rest of La Push was freezing cold all the time. Stupid Washington. Stupid mother for making me move here.

But most of all, stupid Paul for making it impossible to forget him.