DISCLAIMER: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer
All lyrics (including chapter titles) belong to Breaking Benjamin


AUTHOR'S NOTE: Real quick… rubyslippers15 sent me the Microsoft documents for this story, but you may want to reread it, just in case I change a little bit here and there. Enjoy.


God, if you are real, and you are indeed living high on the hog up there, would you please—and I can't believe that I'm saying this—send me a sign? Send me something so that when I open my eyes, there will be some sort of hint that life here in this soaking town in the middle of nowhere will be as grand as Charlie has cracked it up to be. Please…

As the police cruiser sped down the highway away from Sea Tac airport, I opened my eyes. And the moment I opened them, I was drawn to my sign—a lump of brown mess in the middle of the road. A dead bird. I looked up at the sky, hoping that He was listening loud and clear. Thanks, I hissed, and then mentally flipped him the finger. I know it was completely irrational to do so, but I had been raised to believe that God was the savior supreme and would help us in our dire times of need. Well, clearly he wasn't in the mood to help me now.

I knew that we must have entered Forks by the mess of trees and mist we suddenly were driving through. Houses along the road grew scarce, and everything went from either gray or brown to green. Everywhere. The trees were covered in a green mush and the leaves high above seemed to have colored the sky. I stared out the window, leaning my head against the glass. If only I could have been in control over the one aspect of my mother's life that she seemed to have straight—who she fell in love with. She had married a ball player and was therefore convinced that she didn't need me. So, she sent me to live with Charlie.

She didn't technically send me, actually. I sent myself. And I was seriously beginning to have doubts about that decision as we pulled into Charlie's driveway. I had never been much of a people person, and had been hoping that once we had arrived home I would have dinner, talk to my dad for a few minutes and then go into a 48-hour hibernation period. But, with a surge of despair, I realized that I wouldn't get that. Because Charlie hadn't just planned a small welcome home party that just included him and me. No, this party had to consist of the whole town.

The whole goddamn town.

The car came to a stop, and Charlie jumped out, greeting the angry mob of people that began to surround us. I mentally calculated the distance to the house from the car and realized it would probably be impossible to make it there without being attacked. So, grabbing my duffel bag and holding it in front of me as my only weapon, I jammed my ear buds in my ears, turned up my music and stepped out of the car—catching me foot on the ledge—where I was immediately sucked into the vortex. Hands were on my shoulders and in my hair, grabbing my shirt and pulling me this way and that in a flurry of faces, everyone tried to introduce themselves to me.

I smiled—though it probably looked more like a grimace-- and glanced around, looking for Charlie. He was standing with some guy with long black hair tied into a ponytail, away from the crowd, watching me and laughing. They were having fun and enjoying the sight of me being tortured by a town of bored citizens with nothing to do but wait in anticipation for the police chief's daughter to arrive. If only I had a rocket launcher, I thought to myself. I pushed forward, stepping on feet and shoving hands off of me as I tried to make it to my front door. But the crowd kept surging me backward, closing in around me so that I could feel an unbearable heat radiating from all of their bodies.

I was about to give up and just talk to them when I felt a firm, warm hand encircle my upper arm. I whirled around, about to tell who ever it was to get the hell off. Of course, being the sap that I was, the words stuck in my throat. And, even though I would never admit it to anyone, for the first time in my life, I didn't want this one to stop touching me. Just the feel of his warm palm and fingers against my skin sent tingles down my spine. And the way he was looking down at me didn't help either.

Complete with a mop of bronze hair, his angular face was pale and smooth. A pair of sparkling green eyes gazed down at me, and the strangest expression crossed his face—a mixture of frustration, agitation, curiosity and condescension. I winced as all of the emotions played across his face, suddenly making him so beautiful that the attractiveness was nearly palpable. And he continued to stare at me as I was pushed and jostled back and forth. And then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone.

I glanced around, confused, and was almost positively sure that I heart a chuckle. A low, deep, masculine chuckle. I felt goosebumps raise on my arm, and continued to turn in confusion, looking for him. But I didn't have time to ponder on the idea, because as I was looking, a hole broke in the middle of the crowd, giving me a path to the house. And so, I took it. Holding my bag tightly in one arm, I dashed forward, ignoring the yanks and tugs, and darted to the front door. I jiggled the knob, and finally was able to successfully push it open.

I fell into the hallway and shoved the door closed behind me. Leaning against the door, I sucked in the air that I could get. I reached up and slid the lock firmly, locking the door and keeping me away from the strangers outside the house. I peeked through the wall length window, watching as the people jostled from left to right. I had never in my entire life faced a welcome like this. And one thing was for certain. I never wanted to again.

"The whole town?" I asked as Charlie and I ate pizza across the table from one another. He had finally gotten the people to clear out while I had watched from my bedroom window, hoping to get a view of the boy again. But I hadn't seen him anywhere. And it surprised me how much that had affected my mood. One tiny interaction with someone I had barely met and I was in a sappy romantic mess all ready to jump and go Jane Austen on everyone. I shook my head, horrified that I had let anything get to me that way.

"They were excited that you were coming." He bit off his pepperoni slice.

"The only reason they could have been excited was if you had been talking about me too much." He had the grace to look down, running his pinky around the opening of his beer bottle. "Well?" I asked impatiently. "If you aren't going to give me an excuse, you might as well tell me what you told everyone else."

His face turned the familiar shade of red that I had seen on my face many times as he said in a tiny squeak of a voice, "Just that you were smart…and were in Advanced Placement… and pretty… and still sleep with the teddy bear Sue Clearwater sent to you…"

I was beyond mortified. "You told them that? Dad how could you!" My face was hot and full of color as my ear tips burned and nose tickled.

He looked up at me petulantly. "You didn't mind it when you were five."

I snorted. "Yeah, that was twelve years ago." In a tantrum, I picked up my plate and dumped it into the sink. "I'm going upstairs. The plane ride was exhausting."

The rain pattered softly on the roof, and as I pulled the incredibly girly white lace curtains away from my bedroom windows, I saw that the rain was pattering against the window as well. It was a depressing sight, in all actuality. Some say that rain is calming and soothing—it just made me frantic and skittish. The dark sky seemed like smeared watercolor in the fog, and I could smell the dampness of the forest seeping through the thin walls. I lay down on the bed, curling into a ball and trying not to listen to the sounds coming from outside my window.

Rain, rain, go away…come again another day…all the world is waiting for the sun…

In a desperate attempt to find something to do, I pulled open my window. Glancing down, I realized that the fall wouldn't be too bad, especially if I fell from the conveniently close tree. I grabbed my iPod, stuffed the headphones into my ears, pulled up the hood on my sweater and slid my feet into my shoes. I straddled the windowsill, and then, gathering all my courage, swung my other leg around. I let my feet dangle in the air, and then, closing my eyes, leapt for the tree.

I braced myself for the scream, but my hands connected with the thickness of a branch. Slowly opening my eyes, I inched forward, trying to find the trunk. My feet made contact, and I slowly moved them down. I could have cried out in joy when they touch another branch. I slowly made my way down in the darkness, crouching and feeling around before descending to the next branch. I was straddling an low branch when I glanced down. I could drop, couldn't I? And so, I swung my leg around and slid off the tree. As I went down, I saw something white in the grass, just by the base of the tree.

My feet touched the ground. And then, I took off running.


I felt bad for this Isabella Swan. I really did.

Her father, the Chief of Police in Forks was bringing his teenage daughter from Phoenix to stay with us for a while, and the only feeling I felt was pity—regardless of the flurry of emotions everyone else was feeling for her. Mike Newton was eager to get a glimpse of her to see if it would be worth getting into her pants; the boy had always disgusted me. Then there was Tyler Crowley who needed someone who didn't know of his social status so that he could take her to Prom. Angela wanted a new study buddy, and Jessica needed someone new to gossip about. Then there were the boutique owners who needed new clerks and old women who needed someone to get their groceries and boys who needed new fuck buddies.

The poor girl was being sucked into a cyclone of succubus's and didn't stand a chance.

And what was even more disgusting was the anticipation of everyone as they all waited in front of her house, watching anxiously for the cruiser to round a bend. I sat under a tree near the house with my sister Alice and her boyfriend Jasper, and my brother Emmett with Rosalie, the girl who he attached to his hip. I, of course, had no one to sit between my legs, but at that particular point and time, I didn't really care for one. There was Amber, who had made herself clearly available, and then there was Tanya and Lauren, but where was the fun in that? They all wanted it.

No fun at all.

I pulled the cigarette from my lips and let the smoke burn in my lungs before blowing out. I passed it to Emmett, who, instead of taking a pull on it, placed it under the heel of his Nike-shod foot and ground it into the dirt. I glared at him—it had been the last in the pack—but he merely shrugged and turned his attention to Rose. Rolling my eyes, I plucked bits of grass from the ground. Alice turned to me from her perch on Jasper's lap. "I don't understand why you are resisting this so much. She could be a nice girl."

"Yeah," I snorted. "Exactly what this town needs."

"No," Jasper said. "Exactly what you need. It would be a nice break from the girls you like to hang around with."

"Thanks, Mom," I said, my voice saturated with venom. Alice seethed. "Anyway," I continued. "Been there, done them, gave up a long time ago."

Rosalie snickered, and Alice continued to glare. I raised an eyebrow, staring right back.

But as I was staring I noticed that everything was silent. I turned my attention to the crowd to see a hunk of metal parked in the driveway. Chief Swan hopped out and immediately walked to talk to his friend Billy from the reservation. Heads turned as everyone began to scan the crowd anxiously, the excitement in the air being almost palpable. And then, all eyes, including the friends surrounding me, were averted to the door. It opened slowly, and she stumbled out. At first, all I could see was the brown hair stuffed into a baseball cap. Not too exciting. But I glanced down and saw her holding her bag in front of her like it she would hit someone with it if they acme too close, and then saw a blush form on her cheeks.

"Damn," I whispered to myself.

I glanced around to see everyone getting up. Rosalie popped her gum. "Okay, we've seen her. Time to move on."

Alice was looking at the girl still, but she was slinging a designer bag over her shoulder. I could see her smiling a conniving smirk, and mentally groaned. Alice had just chosen her knew best friend, whether the subject wanted it or not. Emmett whistled, earning a smack from Rosalie. Jasper was looking at the ground, but sweet little Alice smiled at him. "It's okay, Jasper," she said softly. "I agree with you." She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. Suddenly, her tone was menacing. "Just don't do anything about it." And with that, she and Rosalie were gone, their hands wrapped around each other's waists while they talked about Gucci bags and damaged nail beds and some girl who had such a bad dye job that she had more roots than a Canadian Christmas tree farm.

Emmett's awed expression was replaced with a goofy grin. "Yeah, come on Jasper," he said, sauntering over to him. Jasper was a head shorter than me, and Emmett and I both seemed to tower over him—it wasn't worth mentioning the comparison of muscle size. For a moment, it looked like he was going to throw Jasper on the ground. Instead he wrapped an arm around Jasper's waist, much to his mortification and my amusement and he began to walk forward, pulling Jasper while swaying his hips and prancing. It was a god imitation. By that time, Alice and Rosalie were watching. Alice was giggling, and Rosalie was smiling.

"Sorry, Emmett," she said, breaking away and coming toward him. He turned his face away and seemed content talking to Jasper. "So, Jazz. I was thinking that tonight we could—"

Alice hit him in the head with her bag hard enough that we all heard the satisfying whack. "You better not, butt pirate," she said, pulling Jasper away. He wrapped himself around her, burying his face in her neck. "Thanks," he breathed. Rosalie wouldn't look at Emmett, and I grimaced as I watched the all-too-familiar scene begin. "Aw, baby I'm sorry," Emmett would say. Rosalie would just turn away with a petulant "No." The ending result would be Emmett sticking his tongue down her throat, which I really didn't care to see. So, I turned and walked into the crowd.

It was easy to find her. On the outside, the crowd looked like an angry mosh pit, but closer towards the middle they all formed an open circle around her. I stood on the edge for a minute, just looking at her. I would not use the word beautiful, I absolutely refused—however she had an air about her, something innocent yet utterly feminine and incredibly sexy. I let my eyes wander over her figure. The smooth curves of her hips, her tiny waist, her lean thighs, the irresistible curve of her breasts, her full and sensuous lips. It was as if someone placed an invisible hand around my heart and squeezed, then placed an invisible foot on my ass and shoved me forward.

I wrapped a hand around her arm—it was so small that my fingers fit around her bicep and overlapped. With a jerk, she turned to look at me.

The single look that she gave was enough to answer all of my unasked questions. Her dark brown eyes blazed as she stared at me, but I couldn't tell if it was anger or lust. Either way, the only thing I was thinking was that some way, I had to be with her. I had to be inside of her. It stunned me to feel such a raw emotion that way and I could feel the frown slipping onto my face. No. I couldn't. I wouldn't. I was not one of those guys—at least, I tried hard not to be, and I wasn't about to ruin my resolve over this girl.

I released her arm and stepped back into the crowd. I turned and pushed through everyone, not caring that I knocked a little girl over and made an old man drop his cane. I finally made it to a spot of clear grass where I was able to breathe, and only when I was on the outside did I allow myself to turn around and look at her. I could faintly see her head turning this way and that. Was she looking for me? I shook my head and headed for my car.

Turning it on, I listened to the soft purr and watched the scene from a distance. I watched as she pushed and shoved, trying to get through the mass of people. That's how I feel every day, I thought to myself as she was pulled in every direction, stumbling over everything. I smiled. She found the opening. With a surge, she pushed forward, making it to the front door and pushing it open. She had made it through.

There you go.

I pulled away.

I was still driving at ten o'clock that night. I had everywhere and nowhere to be all at the same time. But I couldn't go home. Not with her still on my mind. Emmett—the president of the 'We Think Edward is Secretly Gay' club—would say something about my prudishness, Carlisle would begin another boring speech about the hormones of a teenage boy, and Esme would get all touchy feely, asking me about what exactly I was feeling. And Alice, the little sister who I would protect from anything would say something that would make me snap and say something mean. Although I was a grouch and could act like a bit of an ass at times, I didn't want to inflict too much personal hurt on her. I would have to go the whole week begging her to forgive me, and then she would try to tell me all about my pent up sexual frustration, and that I was just leaking it out on her. And then, like every other argument, Emmett would pipe up and say, "Just go have it out with a prostitute already. You can find 'em anywhere." And for the record, I wasn't interested.

But I had never felt that sort of attraction to anyone. It angered me and scared the hell out of me, excited me and drove me crazy. For the past four hours I had been driving around aimlessly, thinking about that brown hair and goddamn blush. And those eyes! I mentally kicked myself. It was doing me no good to think about her. I didn't care. She was just another girl. Just another girl with delicious curves and full lips and round breasts that I wanted to taste under my tongue—

The only thing I knew for certain was that if I was going to think about her that way, I needed to wear loser pants.

I slowed my speed just a tad as I passed by a playground. For an odd reason, the hair on my neck was standing on end, and even as I reach back to brush down the strands the feeling of goosebumps didn't fade away. I glanced out my window as the headlights swept over a park bench, then the slide, and then the swing set. I glanced down to fiddle with the air conditioning vents, but when my head snapped back up to make sure I wasn't seeing things, there was no one sitting on the swing. But I was sure that there had been. I had seen the head of shiny brown hair and the pale body. There had been a girl sitting on the swing. And I had a heart-wrenching feeling that I knew who it was.