"La Push?" I asked, feeling my face twist up in confusion. "What the hell are we going to La Push for?"

"Language!" Mom cried as she passed the doorway to the kitchen, laundry basket in hand as usual. Dad rolled his eyes at her and continued on, leaning against the counter.

"Yes, La Push," he grumbled. "We have to go back."

"Back?"

"You don't remember living there? I'm sure Adam and Sam do."

"Of course I don't remember living there, Dad, I thought you said I grew up over here?"

"We lied."

"Yeah, no dip…"

"Language!" Mom cried again, poking her head in the doorway this time before scurrying away. Dad laughed lightly.

I studied the both of them, fancying the way they always had a reaction to each other. Neither of them ever said or did anything without the other saying or doing something in return.

That was the thing about my parents. They were best friends. Inseparable. Unlike so many kids at our school, I'd never seen my parents argue, Hell, I'd never even seen them shoot each other a dirty look unless it concerned me and how I was being raised. Even when Dad had a long day at work and Mom looked like she'd had a fight with a briar patch, they looked perfect next to each other.

"I still don't understand why we have to move." I grumbled, picking at my apple. Dad frowned at me and patted me on the leg as I swung it back and forth against the cabinet.

"I know, Kitty, I know."

Kitty. That's another thing. When I was six, I'd found that I was the only human being alive able to sneak past my father without him hearing. Not Mom, not Adam, not even Sammy, who was the one who was the quietest of all of us. When I'd managed to successfully waltz into my parent's bedroom, lift a 5 and make my way out to the ice cream truck without anyone hearing me, they went crazy, like I was some sort of magician.

"You didn't hear her leaving?" Mom screamed, her tears slipping over her bronzed cheeks. They might have all thought that I was playing in the front yard and gotten kidnapped or something. (I know, I know, what the hell, right? My family's awkwardly protective; it's something you'll get used to.)

"No! Not at all! It was like one second she was in the house, and the next second she wasn't!" Dad defended himself loudly, bewilderment filling his gaze while I attacked my Bomb Pop, ridiculously proud of myself.

Ever since then I used it to my complete advantage. They never caught me, not until I came back at least. I could come and go as I pleased, do what I wanted for the most part which earned me my ridiculous nickname. What really got me was the fact that they all expected Dad to be able to hear me anyway. Why would he? I was only "5'3", and 112 pounds. There was no reason my Dad should've been able to hear me!

"I don't wanna go." I pouted.

"Why, don't wanna leave your boyfriend?" Adam teased, waltzing in the same way he always did-as if he owned the damn place. He threw an orange in my direction-and even having amazing reflexes, it caught me in the side of the face, nearly toppling me off the counter.

"Can it, Adam!" I yelled, swatting at him.

"Boyfriend? What? NO, no, no, no, who said anything about you having a boyfriend?" Dad cried, his jaw dragging across the floor.

"What's wrong baby, don't want me to spill your secret?" Adam egged on, pressing and pressing until finally I got a hold of his dark locks.

"Zip it!"

"Get off, freak!"

"NO REALLY, WHO SAID YOU COULD HAVE A BOYFRIEND?"

"Honey, have you seen the washcloths?"

"ADAM LEIBER ULEY, GET OFF ME RIGHT NO- AHHHH. DAMN IT ADAM, YOU'RE SO FAT."

"WASHCLOTHS? WHO CAN THINK OF WASHCLOTHS WHEN OUR DAUGHTER HAS A BOYFRIEND?"

"FAT? You're calling ME fat? Nonsense."

"Sweetie, you have a boyfriend?"

"NO! Mom, get him off!" I whined, my face pressed against the cold tile as Adam lay on my back.

Dad picked my brother up by the collar as if he weighed 2 pounds instead of 165, nearly tossing him halfway across the kitchen before scooping me up by the shoulders.

"SO YOU DON'T HAVE A BOYFRIEND?" He asked, excitement growing in his voice.

"Nooo!" I cried. Relief washed over Dad's face as Mom shrugged and waltzed out of the kitchen again, Adam rubbing the back of his neck where Dad had picked him up.

"What were you whining about when I came in, anyway? What exactly are we leaving?" Adam asked, sitting across from me on the breakfast bar.

"Here," I grumbled, hopping back onto the counter. "We have to go to La Push."

"La Push? What the hell are we going to La Push for?"

"Dammit, Arbor Jordyn, what did I tell you about language?" Mom yelled, tossing her slipper at me.

"OW. IT WASN'T-Ugh, what's the point." I growled, rolling my eyes.

"There's just some things we have to take care of." Dad shot quickly, avoiding our eyes.

"Things like what?" Adam pressed.

"Like…things."

"Like….what." I asked, Adam and I working together on this rare occasion.

"Like things that you don't need to worry about!" Dad cried, throwing his hands into the air and turning away from us, scrubbing away at already clean dishes.

"I mean, if we don't know, we can't support you." Adam said, the smart-aleck that I'd grown up with starting to appear.

"Listen," Dad said, his voice growing stern. "We have to make this move. There's nothing we can do about it, there's nothing you could say to make us change our minds. We're leaving."

"When do I start packing?" I groaned, rolling my eyes.

"Tomorrow."

"WHAT?" I yelled, flinging myself off the counter. Dad sighed and covered his face like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Tomorrow." He repeated.

"NO! Dad, what the hell?"

"I HAVE SOCCER TRYOUTS TOMORROW!"

"I CAN'T PACK ALL MY THINGS IN ONE NIGHT!"

"You couldn't have given us a little more warning?" Adam demanded, throwing his hands into the air.

"Listen, listen, LISTEN!" Dad yelled, his voice ringing through the air. It silenced us both. There was something about Dad's voice when he meant business…something that warned everyone to shut the hell up before they got punched, no questions asked. "I know you guys have spent most of your lives here. Trust me, it's just as hard for your mother and I to accept this as it is for you…but it's something that has to be done. Understand me, Kitten?" Dad asked, his voice softening as he lifted my chin. I hated when he did that to me. Used his fatherly advantage.

My Dad and I were practically best friends, there was nothing I couldn't tell him(unless it had to do with boys), or say around him. He was my protector, my savior, whenever I was lost, he knew exactly where I needed to be, and if La Push, Washington was where it was, then I had to go.

"I understand," I murmured, still pouting a little. Adam stormed out of the room in front of me, Mom brisking in just as we'd left.

I reached into my back pocket, searching for my phone but coming up empty handed. Damn it all. Turning on my heels, I started heading for the kitchen again when Mom and Dad's whispers brought me to a halt.

"Can't shelter her forever, Sam. The boys are getting older, you know if we stay now they're bound to phase."

"I know, Em, I know. I didn't want this for them."

"Sweetie we don't even know for sure yet. You're freaking yourself out, what you need is a cup of coffee and a cuddle session."

"I need more than a cuddle session." Gag. Super gag.

"If things go the way I want them too, she can't be Imprinted on Em. It's way too dangerous especially if one of the bo-"

"Shh. Stop talking about it. Let it go, Sam. Let all three of them be."

"Suppose it's my only option now."

"They're ready for La Push, love."

"I know. But I don't think La Push is ready for us."


And it's begun! I know, I know, slow start, but cut me some slack...I have writer's block! We haven't gotten to explore the kids' personalites a whole lot yet, but trust me it'll get much more developed with time!(:

xoxo-Sixth