Author's Note: Hola, lovely readers! This is my first fanfic (although I've been on the site for awhile now, reading and soaking it all in) and I would really appreciate any feedback you have, good or bad! My goal is to be a published author someday, so let me have it! Sorry the first chapter is so short, but I want to see your reaction to where the plot's going before I get too far into it. I promise, if you like it, the chapters to follow will be longer, and I also vow on the good name of fanfiction that I will NOT be one of those authors that abandons a story and does not update for months at a time. That annoys me to no end. I will be loyal to you, beautiful readers. And now I've just done what I hate other authors doing by writing a freakishly long author's note, sorry my bad! (And by the way, I'll totally give you a shout-out if you review for me, lovelies! SPREAD THE LOVE!)

Paul Lahote leaned across the diner counter, cockily smirking and openly flirting with the girl working the cash register. He was the biggest player at La Push High, and he certainly wasn't ashamed of showing it. I found it to be extremely irritating. Maybe I just felt that way because I wasn't one of the easy girls. Whatever. Back to work. I was clearing off a table that was just vacated by an elderly couple on a date (how cute), when the bell on the front door chimed, signaling the arrival of more customers. I hastily ran back behind the counter, avoiding the happy couple at the register like the plague, and grabbed my notepad to take their order. When I turned around to face the newcomers, I realized it was none other than the La Push gang, a group of overly-muscled teenage guys intent on "being protectors of La Push." Whatever that means. Our crime rate here really isn't that high. Surprisingly enough, Paul leaves his post at the cash register with Amy to go join his little friends, and soon I was facing them all with a polite smile plastered on my face.

"Hi, guys. My name is Emma, and I'll be serving you today. Can I start you with-?"

"You know what you can start me with? The name of that chick over at the register. We're goin' out tonight, but I didn't catch her name." I slowly turn to lock eyes with the guy who's just spoken, spoken the words of a horny testosterone-filled boy who obviously only wants one thing from poor Amy, and as his words fill me to the brim with hate and disgust for every man in the world like him who think with their dicks and not their heads, I suddenly lose the façade of polite-charming-waitress-girl and let out all my inner frustrations toward the male race on him.

"Excuse me?!" I shriek, causing Amy to glance up from her work at the counter. I instantly feel bad that she's going to witness this, but I quickly realize that I'm saving her from a mountain of disappointment later by letting her know just what kind of guy Paul is now. "Do you mean to tell me that you asked someone to go out with you without even bothering to find out their name? What kind of inconsiderate asshole are you?"

He's staring slack-jawed at me like I'm some sort of phenomenon never before witnessed by human eyes, and I'm glaring at him like an asteroid could fall from the heavens and knock him dead and I could care less.

In the midst of all this clammer, I happened to notice the clock on the wall behind douchebag's head. "Oh, look. Time for me to clock out. Let some other unfortunate soul deal with you." I spat, turning on my heel to stalk to the employee room in the back. Before I make it too far, a large, hot hand is gripping my upper arm and turning me back around.

Douchebag is there, still looking at me with that far-off look in his eyes like I just hit him over the head with something. "What?" I snap. I'm so sick and tired of controlling, idiotic, just downright douchebag guys thinking they can walk all over people, using their looks and so-called "charm" to get in the pants of many and the good-standing of few. He jerks his hand back as if my arm just scorched his skin, and allowed me to hurry into the back room, where I ripped off my uniform apron and slashed my employee tag through the clockout mechanism on the doorframe. We're pretty low-maintenance in this town.

I say a hurried goodbye to Amy on my way out, and soon I'm stomping out of the La Push Café and am straddling my motorcycle like the badass I try to portray myself as. I stay strong for the sake of those around me, namely my mother, who is more like a best friend to me. She is the manager of the Forks Country Inn, a small but respectable business where the pay's not bad and her employees are like family to us, from the desk clerk to the head chef. I practically grew up there after my dad left us to go "find himself." Well, I'm sixteen now, and fully capable of working to help run the small but charming household that my mother, Theresa, and I share.

Bessie purrs as I roar down the vacant highway leading to my house, pretty far back in the woods, right next to the borderline between La Push and Forks, slightly on the Forks side. I think I see something blur past me in the woods next to the road, so I slam on the brake and almost lose control of Bessie, totally freaking myself out. When I finally coast to a complete stop and don't see anything threatening or resembling a wild animal, I continue home and pull in the driveway with a screech. On my short walk into the house, I hear a wolf howling in the distance, sounding as if it is slowly approaching, apprehensive and yearning, causing my strides to become harried as I sprint the rest of the way inside and lock the deadbolt on the door.

Review please, beautiful people. =)