Part 2

February 11.
8:00 a.m.

The expression displayed on the tall girl's face could only be described as sheepish. Bella was staring up at her with a stern look, her arms crossed.

"So Jacob tells me that you and Paul are still active pen pals," she said flatly.

Angela disguised her fidgeting by tearing off the pink ribbons and paper hearts that the student council had decorated her locker with. "I don't think it's quite like that…"

"Angela, I asked you not to worry about it anymore. Really, you don't have to do this."

As she shot several wads of pink construction paper into the nearby trash bin, she replied, "Bella, it's not a matter of having to do it so much as wanting to do it. I don't like what that Paul character said, and I'm not going to sit back and let it go. At the very least, I want him to realize that this situation concerns me because I am your friend. Whatever affects you indirectly affects me because I care about you. Please try to understand that."

She had said all this while clearing off the last of the ribbon and streamers from her locker. After several seconds of silence, she turned to look at her companion, only to be shocked by the sight.

Large crocodile tears were beginning to pour from Bella's wide doe eyes as she stood there taking in Angela's words. It was evident that she was truly touched by her friend's declaration.

"Oh, Bella, don't cry…"

"No, no…I'm not crying. I'm just tearing up a bit," Bella assured her, quickly wiping the dampness away with the back of her hand. She smiled gratefully. "I'm just glad someone is still there for me. People have made it a habit of leaving me behind or shutting me out when I grow close to them, you know? It's nice to know that you're not going anywhere anytime soon."

Angela smiled back, pleased to be an anchor of sorts for her. She was aware that it had been a recurring problem for Bella to hold onto friendships as of late, and she was determined to make up for all the individuals who had deserted the poor girl. Regrettably, however, she had to ask the inevitable question.

"What happened when you went to La Push?"

It took a little longer for Bella to take a deep breath and find the words to report the result of her visit to the Reservation. Long story short, Jacob had seemed like he wanted to explain when she confronted him, but then brushed her off to the side completely once his friends arrived to witness the quarrel. He had also made it clear that he could no longer associate with her, and even included a few choice words about Angela's interference.

"I see," Angela said tightly, her eyes narrowing. "So what will you do now?"

Bella shrugged. "I'm going to give him a little while to get himself together. So this means no more writing letters, okay?"

She raised her eyebrows at Angela, who grinned and conceded by nodding. "In the mean time…" She scowled as she ripped off a large red paper heart from her own locker. "…I guess I'll have to put up with three more days of this crap."

Angela assisted her in removing the last remnants of revolting Valentine's décor from the surrounding area. "At least you won't be alone in your suffering during these last three days," she remarked wryly.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

February 11.
4:45 p.m.

The sound of the ringing phone was the source of her ascent to consciousness, but the identical calling of her little twin brothers was what forced her to unwillingly open her eyes.

"Angela! Angela! Phone for you!" Isaac and Joshua called in unison from downstairs.

She groaned unhappily, wishing she could roll over and return to her nap. But if she didn't take the call within the next fifteen seconds, her brothers would be pounding at her door to deliver the message. Reluctantly, she sat up and left the warm comfort of her bed to walk across her room and pick up the phone at her desk.

"Okay, I've got it," she called back before speaking into the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Angela?" a gruff voice asked.

"Yes. How may I help you?" she asked a bit crossly, resenting the impolite tone that was currently keeping her from her rest.

"This is Paul."

She froze on the spot, her blood chilling as the identity of the caller instantly registered in her head. Any thoughts of sleep swiftly flew out the window, and she gripped the receiver a bit harder than necessary as a whirlwind of emotions invaded her head: confusion, anger, bitterness, and apprehension.

"How did you get this number?" she asked carefully.

"I used this thing they call a phonebook," he sneered, his voice lapsing into a derogatory note. "It's pretty useful. You should try utilizing one sometime."

She clenched her teeth, biting back an answering insult that was dying to escape her throat. Instead she asked, "What do you want?"

"You know, I really didn't like that last letter you sent," he replied, his voice deepening in an angry decrescendo. "Especially when I thought I'd made it clear that you have no right to involve yourself in things that aren't your business."

"Excuse me?" she retorted. She was finding it difficult to comprehend the audacity of this miscreant on the other line. "What do you think you're talking about? Perhaps I didn't make it clear that my concern is centered on Bella's welfare, which ultimately means that this is my business. Jacob Black apparently does not care about her any longer, but I do. If anything, you two are the ones who have no right to speak to us this way, because you're the ones who are the source of all this stress in the first place," she told him coldly.

She was answered by a series of animal-like growls that hurt her eardrum, causing her to hold the phone away from her head as the noises continued to emanate from it. She stared at it curiously, wondering if he was enraged beyond civilized speech. After several seconds, the growling faded and she tentatively placed the phone back to her ear.

"Are you quite finished throwing a tantrum?" she inquired daringly.

"You little bitch," he spat, the growling beginning again. "You think it's that simple? You think you understand enough to run your mouth like that?"

She could feel her anger increasing at being called such a vulgarity, but she retained her cool. "I don't need to understand anything other than the fact that Bella is distressed over that bipolar ingrate who can't seem to make up his mind, and I am quickly losing patience with his hotheaded friend who appears to understand even less than I do."

This time she immediately held the phone away from her, managing to avoid an even louder sequence of growls and snarls that sounded like they belonged to a dog, not a human.

"In any case," she said loudly over the racket, not even bothering to wait for him to finish this time, "you can stop your whining because Bella went to speak to Jacob yesterday, and she has decided to leave him alone for a certain amount of time. This also means that I will cease all correspondence with you. So now you have nothing to worry about."

There was an abrupt pause on the other line. Then–

"I know she came to the Reservation yesterday because I was there. This no longer has anything to do with her or Jacob or their situation. I'm calling you because I have a problem with you."

Angela's teeth clenched together as she realized the turn things had taken. "Don't try to deviate from the primary matter at hand. My intentions for writing all those letters were for Bella's benefit. I don't care if you dislike me because I chose to support my friend, but I am not going to entertain you with an argument on petty personal issues, so good bye."

With that, she promptly hung up. Two minutes later, when she was sure that he would not be calling back, she flopped back on her bed in complete exhaustion.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

February 13.

It would be an understatement to say that the past two days had been irritating. Angela was seriously contemplating disconnecting her phone line, for Paul had called her house every hour each afternoon asking for her. Her parents had been instructed to come up with excuses for her absence from the house, but they were growing tired of the charade. She did not mention this occurrence to Bella, who had enough problems to deal with on her own.

Finally, when her father told her that he intended to report Paul for harassment, she agreed to take his next call to end the game. Now she sat at her desk, eyeing the phone warily as she pretended to do homework. Five minutes after she had finally solved her first calculus equation, it rang.

Picking it up, she answered calmly, "Hello?"

"So you finally decided to quit hiding," the cynical voice said.

"What exactly is it that you want from me, Paul?" she demanded. Enough was enough. She was putting a stop to this. Now.

He paused again, seeming to contemplate the question. Then he said, "I want to see for myself what kind of nosy, self-righteous bitch jumps into other people's matters without a second thought, and I want to speak to her in person. I'm going to be taking a big chance going to your school tomorrow, so you'd better be there."

Click.

Angela stared at the receiver in her hand, the reality of his warning settling like lead in her stomach.

He was coming to Forks High School? What did he mean that he was taking a big chance? Why would he even go through the trouble of coming all this way to speak to her? Well, if he was planning on becoming violent, he could also plan to meet a face full of pepper spray.

She placed the receiver on her desk and absently stared at the calendar hanging on her wall, her gaze eventually settling on the date for the next day.

February 14. Valentine's Day.

She almost laughed out loud at the sheer irony of it. The one day she had been dreading all month, multiplied ten-fold in negativity by this turn of events. Of course something like this would happen. The holiday of supposed romance and love…and someone was coming after her in a fury.

How fitting, she thought dryly.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

February 14.

Angela apathetically walked into her classroom and ignored the blabbering girls shoving their heart-shaped balloons and rose bouquets at each other in comparison of who had the most impressive Valentine's gift (or who had gotten the biggest sucker to spend the most on useless crap). She picked up pieces of conversations detailing plans for after school, such as dates, dinners, and every other nauseating romantic venture that many males saw fit to participate in only this one day each year. It was enough to make her sick.

The look on Bella's face mirrored her own as the two anti-Valentine's girls exchanged glances. They endured the last hour of class, and then breathed similar sighs when the final bell rang. Bella had to get home to start Charlie's dinner and Angela, wanting to get the confrontation with Paul over with, told her that she was staying after school. They bid each other good bye and went their separate ways.

In all honesty, Angela was currently having a bad case of anxiety. Although she wanted this over and done with, she was certainly not looking forward to it. And as if to add to the austerity of her day, she passed by Ben in the hall on her way outside. He glanced at her and then quickly averted his sight as he lowered his head and accelerated his pace. She exhaled tiredly once he was gone, wondering if her life would remain in this bleak state for much longer.

How had things turned out this way? Ben had broken up with her; she'd dealt with it. Bella had needed her; she'd been there. Paul had practically ordered her to meet with him at her school; here she was. She strove to be the best possible human being she could be, and she had believed that she was doing well in obtaining that goal. So…why?

Stepping outside in the crisp cool air, she watched the other students heading for their cars or their rides, toting small and large objects that mostly consisted of the colors red and pink.

Well…might as well go look for him.

She did not have to look far.

"Do you know Angela Webber? Can you tell me where she is?" a familiar gruff voice asked from somewhere behind her.

She whirled around and caught sight of the shirtless back of a tall dark-skinned boy towering over the quivering form of Eric Yorkie. They were next to the side of the cafeteria, where few people passed through during this time of day…which essentially meant fewer witnesses.

The look of terror on Eric's face transformed into relief when he saw her, and he pointed a shaking finger in her direction.

"Th-There! That's Angela!" he all but shrieked. And not waiting another second, he hastily scurried away once his prospective attacker's attention left him.

Slowly, the giant form of the Quileute turned around. She found that her heart was thundering in her chest as she prepared herself for the coming storm.

And why in the world is he half naked? she wondered vaguely, taking in the toned muscles of his shoulders and arms. It's about thirty degrees out here.

At last, he fully faced her. About twenty yards apart, their eyes locked for the first time. She grudgingly admitted to herself that he was rather attractive, sporting well-defined features and eyes as dark as night. Even though they were burning with an angry fire, they were still the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. It was a shame that he was a foul-tempered, bad-mouthed, rude, stubborn brute who could best be described as her polar opposite.

Sighing, she walked forward until she stood not five feet away from him. Her gaze was on the snowy ground as she said solemnly, "I'm Angela."

A full ten seconds passed. No response.

Somewhat perplexed, she summoned up the courage to meet his eyes once again. What she saw only served to increase her confusion.

His expression, which had initially been one of hostility and malice when he'd first spotted her, had changed into one that appeared to be shock. His eyes were as wide as saucers, and his lips parted to form an "O" of surprise. He was a few inches taller than her, and he remained frozen in his stance as he continued to stare down at her face in awe.

"Are you all right?" she asked in utter bemusement. What on earth? Should I call someone? What just happened?

Thankfully, though, he was able to convince her that he was coherent. "I…I…" Or somewhat coherent.

She simply stared back at him, mystified. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he managed to choke out, his voice issuing a strange pitch that did not convince her. "It's just…uh…I didn't expect…"

"Paul," she said sharply. She was beginning to grow nervous from his odd behavior. "Please try to make sense. You send me rude responses, insult me on the phone, call me out here to confront me, and then proceed to act this way. Whatever game you're playing, I want it to stop."

Honestly…here she was, expecting to witness a temperamental tirade consisting of loud yelling and possibly a bit of physical violence, yet he looked more like a deer caught in headlights than a sadistic barbarian. She even had her pepper spray ready to whip out from the open pocket of her backpack.

That was what snapped him out of his trance. But although he was now consciously focused, there was still no trace of aggression on his face.

"Do you…do you want to go get something to eat?" he asked uncertainly out of the blue, his tone sounding astonishingly kind and gentle.

The question left her completely baffled. "What?"

"I mean…you know, it's Valentine's Day after all…and it looks like neither of us have valentines, so–"

"What?" she said again, seriously believing his mental health was plummeting downward. "What are you talking about? In case you have forgotten, you and I happen to be very strong antagonists toward each other, and we have a short history of intense dislike and opposition–"

He placed a finger on her lips to shush her. The foreign contact paralyzed her as her heart flipped at his searing touch.

What's happening to me? she thought as she felt herself drowning in the intensity of his gaze. Like a moth to a flame…

He began to run the backs of his fingers along her chin, still looking at her in wonder. "I promise I'll explain everything. But first…can I hold you?"

Her jaw dropped as she attempted to detect the authenticity of the request. "N…NO!" she refused vehemently, jumping away from him. "Are you insane–?"

"Look, Angela. I know for the past week or so we've been at odds. And I really did come here with the intention of telling you off for butting into something that originally had nothing to do with you. But actually meeting you, seeing you…well, it changes things," he told her earnestly, some unspoken element hovering in the background.

She was now backing away from him, inwardly going over each possible escape route. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" In three giant steps he was right in front of her, and he encircled her wrists to keep her from running away. "…Now that I've met you…" He ignored her attempts to break out of his hold as he backed her against the side of the science building and trapped her by pressing his body against hers. "…I can't, willingly or unwillingly, ever bear to leave your side."

She was breathless as the strangely strong heat of his body enveloped her front through her winter coat and spurned new emotions within her chest. Caution gave way to entrancement, and inhibition gave way to instinct. She was powerless, mind and body, against his will. What was going on? Was he really as crazy as she thought? Or was there a larger unknown force that had altered their state of affairs? She was confused above all, but she could not deny feeling some sort of invisible pull drawing her to him. If anything, she would definitely be taking him up on that explanation he'd promised.

"Come with me back to the Reservation," he murmured against her ear, sending unfamiliar thrills down her spine. "You'll learn the truth of the motives behind Jacob's supposed distancing from Bella. Believe me when I tell you that it wasn't his choice." Leaning back, his gaze returned to her face. "In fact, we have little choice over a lot of things."

"I don't understand," she said unsteadily, torn between her last desire to escape and wanting to know the truth.

"You will," he assured her, a peculiar softness now radiating from his aura.

She was so mesmerized by this point that she nearly protested when he backed off and released her wrists. Her heart continued to flutter in a rapid atypical pace as she stared at him wordlessly.

"Angela," he said in a final attempt of persuasion. He held out a large hand for her to take, signifying that the decision was ultimately hers. "I want you to meet the pack."

She did not know what he meant by "pack" or if he was sincere in his declarations. Still…why did she feel like this young man–whom she'd originally disliked, loathed, despised–was someone she could trust? And furthermore, why did she feel like she was unable to refuse him?

A flash of color caught the side of her eye. Glancing to her left, she saw a small red silhouette cutout of a paper Cupid, fluttering down to the ground from somewhere above. It landed with its arrow pointed straight at them, a symbol that perhaps Cupid had not neglected her as she thought he had.

Little bastard, she thought rather uncharacteristically as she imagined the cutout laughing in good humor at her expense.

After one more moment of hesitation, she made up her mind and placed her hand in Paul's waiting palm.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

A/N: Somewhat rushed and to the point. I will be the first to admit that this story lacks the characteristic detail I usually incorporate into my fanfiction, which is why I am labeling this as a drabble fic. I may write a chaptered fanfic featuring Angela and Paul in the future, but for the time being, let me know what you think. Thank you for reading.