This is a new story that I have had stuck in my head for a while. I hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight or its characters...*tear*...but I do own a bread maker I have only used twice...sad really.

"Please Kim I am sorry! More sorry than you can ever know! Please Lee. Just talk to me. "

I was speechless and a little pissed. He hasn't called me Lee in three years. He couldn't say Kimberly when he was little so he just called me Lee and it stuck. Hearing him say it hurts more than I can bear because he was the only one who ever called me that. His use of my favorite nickname after a three year hiatus was like a knife to the heart.

There were no words for how I felt at this moment. I was barely keeping it together at this point and I'll be damned if he saw me cry after years of pretending like he didn't know me. I shook my head to clear the moisture from my eyes and I suddenly wanted to be anywhere but standing on the rocky beach of La Push staring at the one person who I should have been at ease with. Instead he made my stomach hurt and my heart shatter. I wanted to run back down the private road to my house but my feet were frozen in their place. Damn you traitor feet!

Jared was the only one who knew why I was here today, and his sudden appearance into my private moment of grief was unexpected and unwelcome. He had promised to always protect me when we were little, and to trust that he would always be my best friend. But he had broken those promises and so many more in the last three years; I had given up counting on him. He was the only person I had let in; and now he was the reason for my lack of trust and faith in humanity.

I was staring into his eyes trying to figure out why he was pleading with me to talk to him. Why was today any different? He had been successfully ignoring me since about 8th grade when he realized that playing guitar with his childhood best friend was lame compared to football and cheerleaders with short skirts.

His abandoning of me and our friendship wasn't an overnight thing; it was gradual. He made up excuses and rescheduled time with me so much that I finally gave up trying. My Gibson and my notebook became my best friend. I became invisible to everyone in our grade. It was like I disappeared the day Jared stopped being my friend. The only friends I had were two sisters who moved to La Push during our sophomore year from New York. Mia played classical bass and her twin sister Tia, who played the drums better than Tommy Lee, talked her into joining us and forming a band. She was skeptical about playing bass but she is a natural. I talked Jared's little sister Heidi into playing keyboard; and Pixie Dust was born. We were a sort of rock/pop/country/indie band. We sang how and what we felt, no genre needed.

These girls were my friends but I couldn't open up to them; Jared had broken me too much. Behind the Def Leppard t-shirts and skinny jeans I was still, quiet Kim. I liked to read entirely too much and I was either watching the BBC or a news channel. I missed Jared everyday so bad it hurt; but I realized the summer before freshman year that the two little kids who strung a couple of green bean cans between their windows just so they could talk at night, were gone. Puberty had killed us.

His dark chocolate colored eyes were pleading with me to believe his apologies. I have been looking into his eyes since the day I was brought me home from the hospital and those eyes used to comfort me and make me feel safe but now, now all they made me feel was anger and pain; especially today.

Today had been one hell of a day. I felt like I was riding a roller coaster. And I was strapped in with my eyes clamped shut screaming for someone to stop the damn thing so I could puke and get off but no one could hear me.

Today was my eightieth birthday. Now this would normally be cause for celebration, but in my case the transition from childhood to adulthood was marred by the fact that today was also the 18th anniversary of the death of my mom. I friggin hate this day. I know that it totally blows to hate your own birth, but I do.

You see I killed my mother; my beautiful sweet Irish mother with fiery red hair, creamy white skin and eyes that were as green as the forest surrounding La Push. The heart retching fact of my being a murder is the climax of my introduction to this life was also the conclusion of hers. I wouldn't be alive if my mother hadn't given birth to me, but she would still be here if I had never been born. It is a definite paradox of suckiness.

My dad has always made sure that I knew her death wasn't my fault; that my mother loved me and would have fought to make sure that I was alive even at the expense of her own life. But despite this fact every year I feel a pang of guilt on my birthday; how can I celebrate when she is gone.

I try to put on a happy face for Dad but he sees through it. We watch the home movies he took of her while she was pregnant with me every year the night before my birthday. I love watching her wrap her arms around her belly, and sing to me. Her Irish accent used to lull me to sleep. She had made a recording of herself reading some books for a college children's literature class and I went to sleep every night for years to the sound of her voice. I think I would give up everything in the world if she could have just lived. But that is not possible; Mom hemorrhaged shortly after I was delivered and the doctors couldn't stop the bleeding. They say it is really rare for women to die during childbirth today; but I don't like the word rare. It implies that something will happen to other people not you. You hear the word rare and you think it won't happen to you and when it does you sit in disbelief and despair. No one ever wants to be on the rare side of rare; unless you win the friggin lottery.

I know my birthday is hard on my father too. He tries to make the best of it with a cake and presents and when I was younger slumber parties. When I was about twelve my maturing mind could see a dead look in his eyes hidden behind all the fake happiness. I realized then my birthday also served to remind him that he lost his soul mate. I tried to down play my birthday after that; just a small dinner just the two of us and he would leave my presents on the foot of my bed before he would leave for the day.

Charles Connweller is an engineer and while now he works from home with the occasional trip to Seattle; when he met Mom he was on a business trip in Ireland to finalize plans of a building he designed in Dublin. Mom worked at the front desk of the hotel he was staying at and Dad told me it was love at first sight. They were married less than four months later in a small beach ceremony near my house on the Reservation where my dad grew up. They spent five years together before she died; my Dad never remarried. He told me once, after copious amounts of tequila on their anniversary, that he feels lost without her. He said that he felt like he was on auto pilot and the only thing that kept him going was looking into my eerily similar eyes and knowing that she wasn't really gone; her spirit was here with us and in us.

I missed her so much; even though I never really met her, I miss her. I come to the beach on my birthday every year just to sit and listen to the ocean. Dad said she loved the sea and standing on the spot where she got married, makes me feel close to her.

The second thing that made this day totally and completely beyond confusing was Jared's sudden reappearance in my life. I had known Jared Thail since birth; his dad and my dad were best friends growing up on the Res. And living next door to each other assured that we practically grew up in each other's cribs. His mother was my babysitter while my dad worked in his home office; and we have even occasionally shared bathtubs. We were best friends and totally and completely inseparable until the eighth grade when he started playing football and instead of becoming a cheerleader I started a garage band and joined the cross country team.

Standing there staring at him in the freezing October rain made me realize just how far apart we have grown over the last three years. Our relationship has taken on a lot of twists and turns throughout the last eighteen years. We have been neighbors, friends, best friends, confidantes, class mates, acquaintances and most recently I was that girl that lived next door to him who he only talked to randomly at home or away from his shitty friends.

I have loved Jared, really loved him, since we were twelve and he told me that he wanted to marry me because he already knew me and he didn't want to have to learn another girl. But I didn't know who he was anymore, especially lately.

He disappeared and no one seemed to know where he has been for the last three weeks. He just reappeared back at school today with a buzz cut looking like he had grown about two feet and robbed Arnold Schwarzenegger of his Mr. Universe body! And now he was standing in the rain in about 40 degree weather in nothing but a pair of cut off shorts and I could see steam rising off of his amazingly sculpted chest and shoulders. And even though he has treated me like shit and trampled all over our friendship my traitor heart won't let me stop loving him.

I didn't realize I had started crying till I heard Jared whimper and whisper, "Please! Please don't cry."

"What do you want Thail?" I ground out through my teeth while trying to suppress a sob.

A wave of pain crossed his face and he took a step closer to me with his arm up like he was trying not to frighten a scared kitten.

"Kim," he choked out my name, "I..I'm so, sooo sorry that I have been a dick lately," I snorted at him and wiped my nose and eyes on the sleeve of my soaked hoodie. "Your right I have been an ass for a while now…" He rubbed his hand through his hair and I couldn't help but appreciate how hot he looked all soaking wet standing in the rain. "I..I just want to say I..that..am..really sor…sorry and that I won't mess up again." He took a step closer and I was frozen in my spot staring into his eyes. "Just please give me a chance."

He reached his hand out to place on my shoulder, "I can't trust you," I choked out, taking a step back. "You…you promised." I whispered so quietly I didn't think he would be able to hear over the rain.

I heard him gasp and stumble backwards, and I knew he heard me. I was probably being a total bitch bringing up a promise he made to me when we were little but I felt like a knife was piercing my heart and I didn't care anymore. Not to mention I was freezing and soaking wet and I all I wanted to do was go home, curl up in bed and forget about this damn day.

Jared whimpered again and swallowed hard forcing him to ball up his fists and force them to his side, "I know," he whispered. "And you don't know how much I hate myself right now."

I broke eye contact with him and mumbled, "Probably about half as much as I hate you."

I heard Jared gasp and I looked up in time to see his eyes fill with tears as he started to shake. The pain that I saw in his eyes made my heart shatter. I choked back a sob and with one last look into his eyes I turned and took off running home in my soggy ballerina flats.

Stumbling through the rain I had just reached the bottom of my front porch steps when I heard a wolf howl. I turned around and listened as the pour creature howled. It sounded like he was dying. My crying increased to sobbing and as I turned and ran up into my house I heard two more wolves join his lone howl making it sound like a chorus of sorrow. I slammed the door on their melancholy sound and slid down to the floor curling myself into a soggy wet sobbing ball.

This day couldn't get any worse. Even nature was depressed.

Please review! I will try to post as often as I can! Love y'all!