A/N: Hey everyone! I know there's a lot of imprint fanfics out there, but I hate how easy it always seems to be. So I decided to make
things a little more difficult and hopefully a little more entertaining ;) This is my first fanfic, go easy on me!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but Aunt Julie, Kate, Kate's mom and the plot. Stephenie Meyer owns anything you recognize!
Chapter 1: Exiled
I woke up with a jolt as the tires of my mother's car hit a speed bump in the airport parking lot. I sat up, running a hand through my thin, light brown hair. I stretched my arms, enjoying the satisfying crack from my stiff joints, and looked at the clock on the dashboard. 3:02 AM. Ugh. This was so early it was almost unholy. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and looked over at my mother. Her face was blank, emotionless. I mentally sighed. I had gotten used to it over the past week or so, but it still wasn't fun being in a silent war with your parents. Especially the over-dramatic kind of parents.
Two weeks ago I had been caught sneaking out the window of my room. I had done so many times before, since my room was conveniently located on the first floor, but never before had I been caught. I had been trying to get out to go visit Jordan, my – now – ex-boyfriend. Sure, he wasn't the greatest for me, certainly not one you take home to mom. But regardless, it wasn't like I was planning a life with him. The whole relationship was shallow and uninvolved; both of us knew that.
My parents knew it too, but they definitely weren't down with the whole arrangement. I didn't see why; they weren't the ones hanging out with him, after all. Anyways, they had told me that afternoon that I wasn't to see Jordan anymore since he was, and I quote, a "bad influence on me". Ha. They liked to come up with excuses for my lack of ability to choose good guys without blaming their own practically non-existant marriage. Seriously, what did they expect of the kid who grew up having no idea what a healthy relationship was supposed to look like?
And, being their theatrical selves, they decided to send me away. I was apparently moving from our cute little beach-house in sunny Key West, Florida to some ho-dunk town in Washington State. How lovely. I fought tooth and nail, threw tantrums, calmly reasoned, and tried acting the part of the angel daughter, all to no avail. They were completely stuck on me moving in with my flighty Aunt Julie in La Push, the teensy little Indian reservation on the coast of the state. They intended for me to live there for at least the rest of my high school career. I was 16 now, going into my junior year. I could come home when I graduated. At that point, I'd be 18 and old enough to leave on my own. Which I would. But, for now, I had to make do with small town life in the middle of absolutely nowhere. At least it had a beach, I mused half-heartedly.
My mother cleared her throat, bringing me out of my reverie.
"I expect you to behave yourself, Katelyn," she said sternly. I rolled my eyes. Oh no, not the dreaded use of my full name! She only ever called me Katelyn when she was trying (and often failing) to be stern. Usually I went by Kate.
"I will mother," I replied robotically. Nothing irritated her more than my nonchalance over leaving home behind. I'd never let her know just how much I hated the prospect of moving; she didn't deserve the satisfaction of knowing that her reprimanding ideas were actually successful. She sighed dejectedly. Oh, now she wanted to make up? Now that I was on my way into the airport? I don't think so.
"Kate – " I cut her off. I had no desire to hear her apologize and then carry through with punishing me anyways.
"Save it, mom. I know you don't care. You couldn't possibly; you're going to send me off regardless of whether or not we make up right now. Why should you get to be the only one who's mad?" I asked rhetorically. She just looked at me, shocked by my outburst. I guess I understood that. I usually just gave the implication to my parents that I wasn't a fan of the way they handled, well, everything. I'd never actually said it at all, let alone as blunt as I did right then. But I couldn't find it in me to really care; this was my mother, for godssake! She was supposed to protect me or ground me or comfort me when I was sad! But all she ever did was find flaws in whatever I tried to do. And frankly, I was sick of it. So I proved it.
Anger still bubbling in me and glinting in my eyes, I wrenched the car door open and got out, slamming it behind me. The trunk was already popped, so I didn't have to worry about that. I grabbed my two suitcases and carry on roughly, dropping them on the ground unceremoniously before slamming the trunk shut, too. I was glad I didn't have much with me; it would have been embarrassing to have to ask for help at this point. We had shipped most of my stuff a week ago, anything that couldn't go through the mail was going on the plane with me. I tugged the strap of my little bag up further on my shoulder, checking to make sure I had my wallet, tickets, and passport. I was all set, so I stormed into the airport. Looking back, my mother was still in complete shock at my outlandish actions. I turned around completely and looked at her in the car, a snide expression on my face. I walked backwards and further into the airport, still dragging all my things. I paused, letting go of the handle of one of the suitcases. I nearly laughed at the hopeful expression on my mother's face, thinking I was hesitating for entirely different reasons.
I raised my hand in the air, flipped her off, and called out a cheerful, "Have a nice life!" and turned away without a backwards glance.
I ignored the stares that were focused on me and stalked off towards the check-in counter and security. I checked both suitcases and got through security, and then meandered off towards the ugly padded waiting area benches. After roughly an hour of waiting, I was ready to get on the plane to Port Angeles, Washington. It was still way too early in the morning; my parents probably got the earliest flight they possibly could to get me out of there. I heard the nasal voice of the flight attendant call my boarding number and I got up, groggily boarding the plane with the other weary-looking passengers. As soon as I settled in to the plane, I was completely dead. I leaned back in the chair and tried to sleep, hoping I could make some use out of this free time rather than settling for talking to a creepy person next to me who most likely had bad breath or a very irritating insistence to tell me all about their family. I was off in dream land shortly thereafter.
After what seemed like five minutes, I was jolted awake by the plane hitting the runway. What was with people and insisting on shaking me like a ragdoll to wake me up? I rudely leaned over the person in the window seat and looked out the window. Not that I could see much; there were streaks of rain down the windows, giving everything a strange melting appearance. "I'm meeelting, meeeeelllllttiiinnnng!" I giggled to myself at my horrible sense of humour, earning me some strange looks that I chose to ignore.
After being pushed around and having my personal bubble invaded by tons of anxious and grumpy travellers, I finally stumbled into the gate. I looked around and tried to find the platinum blonde perm I was so used to seeing on my Aunt Julie. It should have been easy; she was around 5'11 with the massive hair. But I didn't see her. She better not have forgotten me. Just as I was about to pull out my wallet and find the nearest payphone, I spotted a crudely written sign that read, "Kate Marshall" with a smiley face drawn next to it. I looked up at the person holding it and OH MY GOD. This guy was hot. Not as in the kind of guy who's hot in comparison to the bland faces you're used to, but actually Calvin Klein-model hot. He had darkly tanned skin and black, shiny hair that was cut close to his head, clearly someone from the Quileute reservation. He wore only a pair of cut-off shorts and a white wife beater, which left nothing to the imagination. His muscles were clearly defined and obviously well developed. He had a strong jaw and high cheekbones. His eyes were bright and happy looking. I cautiously approached him and finally grasped just how huge he was. He had to have been at least 6'6 and twice as broad as me.
He looked over at me and questioningly pointed to his makeshift sign. I nodded and waved meekly. A huge grin spread across his face, his bright white teeth contrasting with his dark skin nicely. I smiled timidly back. As soon as I was right in front of him, I found myself having to crane my neck to look at him. He unexpectedly pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, pretty much cutting off all airflow. On top of that, his skin was boiling hot, like he had a fever. He looked fine though, so I brushed it off. I made a tiny squeaking noise and apparently the boy realized I was suffocating. He put my down immediately, chuckling lightly to himself. I looked up at him again.
"I'm Jacob. I take it you're Kate?" He smiled.
"You're tall," I stated dumbly. It wasn't my fault the boy was gorgeous enough to mess with my mind! He laughed.
"No, I'm Jacob," he grinned even wider as I blushed.
"You're also tall," I mumbled, severely embarrassed.
"I guess. I'm 6'7, but that's nothing compared to Paul and Jared, they're both 6'9!" I just looked at him, having no clue whether or not I should know who these people were. Noticing my expression, he added, "They're my friends. You'll meet them soon enough." Great. More horribly intimidating guys to make me stutter and look bad. Just what I need.
"Okay. So where's Julie?"
"She's getting her hair done," he said, like it was completely normal to ditch your niece at the airport for a haircut. I rolled my eyes and sighed, running a hand over my face. He laughed again and I looked at him again. "I take it you know her pretty well?"
"Not really," he said lightly. "She just sort of grabbed me, handed me the sign and told me to come get you at the airport." Great. So, for all I know, this guy could be a complete lunatic she just picked up off the street. I stared at him, a little freaked out. "Oh, no, not like that," he scrambled to redeem himself. "La Push is tiny, everyone knows everyone. I know Julie, just not completely well. She never comes to any of the bonfires on the cliffs and sort of keeps to herself." I nodded, relieved. He gestured grandly towards the baggage claim and we headed towards it. I saw my suitcases coming out at that second and sprinted to go get them. I pushed through the sea of bodies and caught both bags by their handles, trying to lug them off. Unsuccessfully. All I managed to do was knock a few other suitcases to the floor and get myself a few rude comments and several agitated grumbles. I ignored it and kept trying.
Jacob walked over, sighing, and gently nudged me out of the way. I huffed, not happy with having to be the damsel in distress. He rolled his eyes at me and lifted both suitcases with one hand easily. He made it look like he was carrying empty cardboard boxes rather than two seventy-five pound bags. I looked at him, shocked, as he continued to carry both and made his way out the doors towards a huge silver SUV. He dropped them in the trunk, which momentarily sagged under the weight, proving that I wasn't insane and that the bags really were heavy. He kicked the tire as he shut the trunk, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, "Stupid, weak car." We both hopped in and I leaned over to the radio to change the station. Jacob caught my wrist and put it back in my lap. I just looked at him. Stupid radio hog…
"The car is Paul's, he's just letting me borrow it. Mine isn't exactly running at the moment," he explained apologetically. "He'd kill me if the car wasn't exactly how he'd left it, radio station and all." I nodded, secretly mulling over this new information. This Paul didn't sound all too pleasant. I mean, really, couldn't he just change it back later? I wasn't at all looking forward to meeting him.
After about an hour in the car, I saw the little wooden sign that declared that we had officially entered La Push. At first there was nothing but forest, and I was about to ask if anyone actually lived there, but then we saw signs of humanity. There were a few tiny houses spaced far apart, all of which looked worn and ancient. There were more and more homes as we got further in, as well as a tiny general store and a few other shops and restaurants.
"That's my house," he stated, pointing at a little red house with a small window and white door, with what looked to be several plastic sheds put together in the backyard. It was cute. "And that's yours." He pulled into the unpaved driveway two doors down of a two story – yet still compact – house, with white siding and a green front door. It had fluorescent pink and orange flowers growing in the window boxes and a nasty, mud-filled birdbath situated on the front lawn. Gross. I looked back at the house itself, and was generally pleased. I could handle this. All of a sudden, the door flew open, hitting the opposite wall with a reverberating smack and bouncing back. Aunt Julie came running out of the house, squealing like a teenager. I was happy to see her hair – or lack thereof. She had gotten it cut into a short little boy cut, which was pretty modern for someone like her. She looked exactly like my mother; she had the same brown eyes, tan skin, and blonde hair, as well as the broad frame that seemed to run on that side of the family. An exact replica, except a few years younger and a lot happier. She hugged me tightly.
"What do you think of my new hair? I figured since I was taking care of you, I needed a mom haircut!" I laughed. She acted so much younger than me sometimes.
"It suits you, Julie." I wasn't allowed to call her Aunt Julie; she thought it made her sound old. She grinned and released all of me but my shoulders, holding me at arms length.
"You look so much like your father!" It was true, I really did. I had a petite frame, only about 5'4. I had light brown hair and very fair skin, as well as bright blue eyes. They were my favourite part of myself. I was a girl-version of my father and proud of it. At least, I used to be. I was really going to stand out here amongst a bunch of natives with my skin tone and colouring. Oh well. I couldn't do anything about it anyways; might as well embrace it. I smiled back at her. She looked over my shoulder. "Thanks for going to get her, Jake. I couldn't be a mom yet, I wasn't even looking the part!" I heard Jacob laugh. I turned around and saw that he already had my bags out and lifted in the air.
"Where can I put these?" He seemed to still not be struggling. Julie led us upstairs and to the back room with a large window overlooking the backyard. It was nice, albeit small. The room was painted a muted aqua colour and the floors were light wood. My bed, dresser, pillow and sheets were already here, as well as my lights and alarm clock. At least I wouldn't have to set too much up. Jacob dropped the bags with a loud thud and smacked his hands together like he was cleaning off the dust. He smiled at me again.
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then, Kate." I smiled and nodded mutely. "Oh, and I'll bring the p – I mean the guys. I'm sure they're dying to meet you!"
"Sure," I agreed weakly. He laughed at my reluctance. Pulling me into a much gentler hug than the first time, he said bye and left with a cheerful wave. Aunt Julie squealed and hugged me again.
"I'm just so happy you're here! It's going to be so much fun! You've still got 2 weeks of summer so you can sleep in, but I'm sure you'll want some sleep but I'm just so excited! We need to –" I jumped in there, before she could plan out all my spare time without me having any say in it.
"Yeah, Julie, can we talk about this tomorrow? I'm beat, I just want to sleep," I whined, pouting. She frowned but agreed, leaving me in peace. I unpacked my toiletries and pajamas (which weren't much more than a pair of soft shorts and a black tank top) and headed into the hallway. I got my own bathroom, since the master bedroom had its own attached. I was more than thrilled about this fact; I had to share with my parents back home. After I finished getting changed and brushing my teeth, I headed back to my room and flopped on the familiar bed. Hurray for having an actual bed again! I'd been sleeping on a mattress on the floor lately, since the bed had been shipped here. I left the suitcases as they were and decided to finish settling in tomorrow. I arched my back and pulled the covers out from under me. I slipped into their warmth and was gone as soon as my head hit the pillow. After a long day of travelling and stress I had absolutely no more energy. It was quiet and calm, all except for the distant sound of a wolf howling somewhere in the forest.
A/N: So what do you think?!?! Review, let me know! Critiques are always appreciated, I'll try and update as soon as I can, I promise!