Changes In La Push

Author's Note:

Hi all. So this is a sequel type thing of Twilight, following the story of Holly Chance and Jacob Black. For this sequel to work, I've obviously had to change bits of the original story so that my parts of the story can fit in. Edward and Bella won't feature in it, neither will their daughter. Jacob is not imprinted with anybody, for now at least! For my own peace of mind, I also changed some of the characters slightly, mostly just their appearances, but also their ages and sometimes how they act, etc. Sorry if you don't like how I've done this, but I'm happy with it right now, and that's enough for me. I don't really think you need to know anything about the Twilight Saga, it's a standalone story in my opinion. I'm enjoying writing it and hope that you like reading it. I won't know if you are enjoying the story unless you leave a review, so please do!

Blonde Ambitions.

P.S. I am from the United Kingdom, and seeing as this story is set in the US, I'll do my best to generalise all the words I use. Sorry if there's any confusion. Ask me anything you need!

Chapter One: Arrival

So this was it, I thought, taking the in the small house in front of me. My dad pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. This was the house that I was planning to live in for ten months and twentynine days – until my eighteenth birthday. The area that we were moving into was a small recreational ground, called La Push, near the miniscule town of Forks. You can tell that I was not impressed. After Mom's death, Dad thought we should get away from our old town, old city, old life and start again. About two weeks into our search for a new place to stay, someone from Dad's childhood town and one of his old friends, wrote to him to offer his condolences about Mom, but also to tell him that there was a house in the area that he could have. Dad was really excited about this for some reason. He accepted the offer really quickly. We stayed at our old place for about four more months while schools, work and other boring stuff was sorted out. I wasn't exactly over the moon about leaving my old life and my friends and whatever, but I knew that Dad wanted this a lot and I could see his reasoning. Everywhere I looked in our old place, I could see Mom there too. In the kitchen, she was there making her amazing lasagne. In the lounge, she was there too, watching her stupid soaps. It was killing me, but at the same time, I couldn't leave without kicking up a bit of a fuss, Holly Chance style.

It was the first time I had seen our new house. It was a bit run say the least.

"Dad...seriously?" I said, my eyebrows raised. "You left Washington to come and live here?"

My father looked at me. "It'll be nice. We can work on it and it will look brand new."

I studied the front of the building again. If I screwed up my eyes and tilted my head a bit, then it looked cute. I conceded defeat. "Fine, it'll be nice...but you're doing the DIY. I get the painting jobs. Do we have a deal?"

Dad smiled. He turned to look at the house too. The smile faded. "Come on, Hol, let's go." He got out the car and went to open the door to the house. He turned back to shout out. "Hurry up. You might want a bit of rest before we go over to Billy's house. It'll be good for you to meet some new people here. I heard he has a son about your age."

I rolled my eyes. This was so typical of my father - trying to make me friends with people. I got out the car and looked around the surrounding area. It was mostly green and woody. It was pretty, I guess, but I wasn't in the mood. Long car journeys made me grumpy. This car journey had been about five hours. So I was pretty grumpy. And the fact that Dad had pretty much forced into talking to some guy I didn't know was making the situation worse. I was probably the world's worst person at talking to people I didn't know. I didn't have very high hopes for the dinner.


The house was light and airy. It smelt a bit dogs? My room was right at the top of the house, in the loft. The room had been furnished a couple of weeks back when my dad came down here with the removal van. It was a spacious room, but that might just be because it didn't have that much in it. I lay back on the bed, still fully clothed and shoed and just stared at the ceiling.


"Holly?" My dad said from the door. "Wake up, we have thirty minutes until we need to leave."

I grunted my acknowledgement and stretched, yawned and swung my legs over to the side of the bed. I heard Dad walk back down the stairs and I stood up. I rummaged through my suitcase to find some fresh clothes. I doubt this Billy would want to see me in old, worn, baggy tracksuits and a huge t-shirt that said 'DON'T NEED A LISCENSE FOR THESE GUNS' with two arrows pointing to...well you get the idea. I found a red and black lumberjack shirt and some back skinnies. I laced up my Dr. Martens and stared at myself in the mirror. My skin was tan, but a lot paler than it had been. I had ugly dark circles under my eyes that made me look seventy, not seventeen. My hair was a tangled heap tied up on top of my head. My eyes looked dead. All in all, not a good look for me. I sighed and took out my hairbrush. It took about ten minutes to completely de-tangle my hair, and then I used a ton of makeup to cover up my face. After I had finished, I padded down the stairs and found my dad waiting for me.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

I nodded my head. "As I'll ever be."


The car journey was short, only about ten minutes, but for the whole drive I was worrying about meeting these new people. Dad was talking about his childhood with Billy, but I wasn't really listening. We arrived at their house. It was nicer than ours; way better condition and slightly bigger. A man with long black hair, and an American Indian look about him (a bit like Dad) was sitting on the porch. When he didn't get up, I looked closer and saw he was in a wheelchair. The man, who I presumed to be Billy, turned his head to face the door and a minute later, a younger man came out. When I say a younger man, I mean someone about year or two older than me. He was good looking, even I could admit, although I tried not to think too much about that. He had short, black, spiky hair, that seemed to stick up haphazardly, as if he had been running his hands through it. He had the same olive coloured skin as me, with dark eyes and a strong build. I could see a tattoo showing from under the ripped sleeves of his shirt. He looked just as happy as I was to be meeting a new family...not at all. Dad pretty much jumped out of the car and leaped across the short distance to the porch. He hugged the supposed Billy, who wrapped his arm around Dad's shoulders. The smile that he gave my dad knocked about ten years off his face. The younger guy, who I guessed was Jacob, Billy's son, looked on awkwardly. His piercing gaze flicked up to meet mine, his eyes chocolately and deep. He didn't smile or make any other welcoming gesture. I felt my eyes burning, I couldn't look at him anymore and I averted my gaze, slightly embarrassed. He seemed kind of rude and I decided not to talk to him unless I was specifically asked. My dad and Billy were engrossed in conversation with each other, not noticing Jacob or me. My dad turned around though soon. Dad beckoned me over and Billy smiled at me warmly.

"You must be Holly," he said cheerfully.

I forced a smile on my face (though in reality, I wanted to run far, far away). "Yeah...Billy, right? Nice to meet you. My dad's told me so much about you."

"Only the good things, I hope! Come on over here so I can see you properly. My, don't you look like your father?" he mused. "This is Jacob, my son. I think he's about your age...what are you now? Eighteen?"

"In December," I said.

Billy smiled. "I'm sure that you and Jake don't want to hear me and your father catching up with each other. Jake, take Holly off somewhere, but be back by eight, alright? I want dinner on the table by half past," Billy said to my dad, seeming to lose interest in me and Jacob.

I made my way up the porch stairs and held out my hand for Jacob to shake. "Hi," I said gravely, without much enthusiasm.

He just nodded, and I retracted my hand and shoved it deep into my pockets. I stared at the ground for a bit, but then he said, "Come this way. I'll take you to my workshop."

I tried to smile a bit. "Cool. What is it that you make?"

"Actually, I just mess around with bikes," he said still not looking at me. He led the way round to the back of the house, and down a lane. At the end of the lane was a small shed – like building.

Great, I thought, as I dutifully followed him down the road. This was going to be hell...what did I know about bikes? Nothing.

Inside the building, there was a strong sense of oil. It was too dark to see anything in the shed, until Jacob turned on the light. There were about five motorbikes. There were tools on the floor and on wooden benches that lined the walls of the outhouse. It was messy. There were overalls hanging inside out on pegs that hung on the walls. Oil and gas cans littered the floor. The bikes, however, were sparkling clean and pristine. They shone in the dim light, the paintwork like mirrors. Jacob walked around the bikes for a moment, stopping at a red one that had tools scattered around it. He crouched down beside it, making himself comfortable, leaving me guessing that we would be here for a while. I took a seat on one of the nearby benches, curling my legs underneath me.

"So Jacob," I said, "Is this what you do in your spare time?" I was trying to make conversation and escape the ever increasing awkward silence that seemed to be Jacob's idea of communication.

"Yeah," was his short reply. He was now fiddling around with a spanner on the bike, turning it repeatedly. Seeing as he was obviously not going to be talking voluntarily any time soon, I decided to amuse myself and look around his workshop. There was a desk and a notice board, and not much else, so I walked over to the notice board first. As I walked past him, I noticed Jacob was now lying on his back on the floor and that his t-shirt had ridden up a bit, giving a teasing glimpse of a toned and tanned torso. Blushing, I turned my gaze away quickly. Wait, blushing? I never blushed...why start now?

The notice board was covered with slips of paper, mementos, tickets and other bit and pieces. There was a photo of a girl; pretty, slim and with gorgeous dark hair. She looked the same age as Jake, a bit older than me. She had a smile on her face, but her dark eyes looked sad.

"Who's this?" I tried again to make another stab at conversation.

Jacob rolled himself out from under the bike and looked at the board. When he saw what I was looking at, his face grew dark and got up. He snatched the photo of the notice board, tearing it slightly in the process, and threw it in the trash can. "No-one," he growled menacingly. He moved back to the bike and slid under it again.

Oh man, this was tough...but I was determined to stick it out for Dad. "I'm just going to sit here," I said, pointing at the desk chair.

"Whatever. Just don't touch my papers."

Patronizing or what? But I nodded, and looked to see these papers on the old wood desk. There were long calculations on huge sheets of paper, which made my eyes go fuzzy. The thought that the guy was autistic ran through my mind, but I discounted that one because his dad wouldn't have made him look after me if he was autistic. That would just be cruel. Then I realised that it must be because he didn't like me. I suddenly felt really awkward sitting there. The silence felt thick and tense. I looked around for any sort of distraction, until my eyes finally settled on the clock on the wall. I was relieved to find that it was nearly eight.

"Um, Jacob?" I began, looking back at him, under the bike. I had to pause for a moment because my tongue decided to tie itself into a knot. Jacob was on his back, arms outstretched, his shirt ridden up over his taut abs. "...uhh, I mean, it's nearly eight...we should probably be getting back to have dinner right?" I said, trying to drag my eyes away from his chest. Jacob slid out from underneath the bike and stood up, stretching awkwardly.

"Sure," he said and began to stride out the door.

After a moment, I realised I needed to follow him quickly because I wouldn't be able to find my way back to the house in the dark. This guy, Jacob, must have anger issues or something. He was not what I needed right now and he evidently didn't want me around. As I neared the house, about two metres away from Jacob, I heard laughter through the open window. I sighed in my head. As much as I was going to hate being around this crazy bipolar kid, I knew that even me, Holly Chance, with the heart of stone, wouldn't be able to take this new found happiness away from my dad.

"Hey," Jacob called from the door. "I can't wait here all day. Come this way."

I rolled my eyes at stuck out my tongue when his back was turned.


Inside the dining room, we were greeted by smiles from our fathers.

"Just in time!" said Billy. He wheeled himself over to the lowered work unit, where there were four plates set out, near an oven which was, by now, producing delicious fishy smells. "I hope you're all hungry," Billy continued, over the loud noise of clattering plates and the slamming of oven doors. Jacob stood and went to hover behind his father, trying to lift plates and open doors. Billy frowned and waved a hand, motioning his son to sit down and leave him alone. "Sit down Jake," he said, voice slightly lowered. "I can manage." I guess Billy just didn't want to look weak in front of my dad (who, I was proud to admit, looked to be in pretty good shape).

Billy brought the plates over to the table, and said, "You lot had better appreciate all this. I was fishing for hours for these beauties. And I spent ages peeling these disgustingly healthy vegetables. Well, what are you waiting for? Tuck in!"

We ate quietly for a bit; I was absolutely famished. Then, my dad said, "So Holly, how've you and Jacob been getting on?" He was grinning, expectant, waiting for a positive answer. I couldn't tell him that I hated all this socialising and that his oldest friend's son was a complete nutter.

"It's going great, Dad," I lied, with a smile. "Jacob showed me his bike was real...interesting." I peeked a look at Jacob through a sheet of my wavy hair, expecting an awkward look, or guilt, or maybe even anger. Instead I saw him smiling politely, yet still clearly out of his own free will. I noticed that it made him look far more attractive and younger, more like his own age. Although I could hardly pass any judgement on acting my own age. This was my first night out in ages, and my dad had arranged it. Now that was embarrassing.

About two hours later, we had all moved into the Black's sitting room. It had been a really nice dinner, not awkward at all. Billy was friendly and I could see why he and dad were friends; they were so alike. Jacob had hardly talked to me at all (except to say thank you when I passed him things and stuff like that), but I really didn't mind that.

On our way out the house, I realised I had left my phone on the table by my chair. I told dad to start up the car, while I ran back and got it. When I re-exited the house, Jacob was no longer there. As I passed by Billy, saying good night, Billy caught my wrist.

"Holly," he said, "You and Jake seemed to get along well."

I was caught in a dilemma, not entirely sure whether or not to lie. I decided on the latter, just because I really didn't want to disappoint Billy.

"Sure," I said finally.

"Good, good," said Billy. "Well, it would please me very much if you two could be friends? I'm sure your dad would appreciate that too."

He let my arm go, and I walked to the car. I wasn't entirely sure if I really did want to be Jacob's friend and I was certain the feeling was mutual. Jacob didn't seem to like me at all. Although this wasn't what was bothering me. I had the weird feeling that Billy wasn't telling me something. Call it intuition if you want, but my intuition was rarely wrong.


When we got back to our house, Dad was strangely cheerful. "Well that was great, wasn't it?" He smiled. "Jacob seemed a nice boy. You get along alright?"

Thing is, I hardly ever lied to my dad. But, there went nothing; "Yeah, he seems cool. But...uh, dad," I began, "Is he like autistic or something? Only just, he didn't seem very talkative. And he was a right grouch," I added, muttering the last sentence under my breath.

My dad laughed, then stopped to say, "Actually now you mention it...I think Billy did say something about him being really hung up about some girl." That would fit, I thought, as I remembered the picture of the girl. "Apparently, they were as close as anything for a while, then some guy from Forks went off with her, and they got married. Strange story if you ask me." It was weird, but I felt like my dad was avoiding telling me something. I didn't push the subject though, and he continued, "Billy told me that Jacob ran off somewhere for a while, not telling anyone where he was going. And there was no communication. That was very odd..." he trailed off. "But you shouldn't let that put you off him!" Dad had cheered up again. "You two look like you'd get on well. He's probably just shy like you are."

"Alright dad!" I said, "I get it! I know you want me to get a life again. I'm working on it, I mean, it's not I've only been here for a whole evening."

My dad just laughed, saying, "You know, we should have done this sooner."

"Done what?"

"Went out a bit, let our hair down, had some fun. It's what your mother would've wanted."

"Hmm. Anyway, it's late, and I'm dead tired. I'm heading up to bed, see you tomorrow," I said, kissing his cheek.

"Night sweetheart," he replied.


Next morning, I woke up at 6.32. Precisely. I know this because that is the time I wake up every morning. It's the same time that I was shaken awake by my dad to be told that my mum had passed. Now it was like an eternal reminder that I wasn't there to say goodbye. I can never go back to sleep again after waking up so I spent the next three hours reading until I felt that it was a normal hour to get up. Dad was downstairs already.

"Hey honey, sleep well?" He asked me with a smile.

"Yeah. I'm hungry."

"Alright, alright! Wait five minutes. Can you do me a favour after breakfast?"

I looked at him warily. "That depends what the favour is."

"I want you to go to the High Street and get me some stuff. Would that be alright, your highness?"

I laughed. "Yes, that would be alright...I suppose."


I got into my car (that had been sent over yesterday with the last of our furniture). It was a vintage Gullwing, old and battered, but I loved it. Dad's list was in my pocket. He just wanted the basics and he assured me that I would find it in the grocery store.

It didn't take long to get to the High Street, if you could call it that. Compared to the High Streets I knew, in the city, this was pitiful. The road was about 100 metres long, a whole six shops making up the stores on offer. It was like a toy town compared to what I was used to. There was a general grocery store, a diner, drug store, book store, clothes store, a motor store (plus garage) and a weird, tiny little shop. This last building was intriguing. I couldn't see what it was selling inside the shop, because it was too dark to see into it. Forgetting about Dad's shopping for a while, I decided to take a look inside.

When I opened the door, a bell jangled loudly. I hated those things. It was alerting people to, well, me and I would much rather prefer to remain invisible. I began to look around the shop. It was a bit musky and slightly dusty, there were only a few light beams shining through the grimy windows. The shop was selling dream – catchers, carved wooden models (mostly wolves) and little painted landscapes. It was sort of American – Indian. I loved that sort of stuff and these had a really cute homemade feel about them. A door opened at the back of the shop, and a girl slipped over behind the counter.

"Hey," she greeted me. "Can I help you?"

"No, I'm just looking around for a bit, thanks," I replied, eyeing the girl cautiously.

She was pretty, tall, slim build, around my age – probably a bit older. She had jet black hair, caramel coloured skin, like Dad, Billy and Jacob. I could see a theme coming on. Although, strangely, this girl had bright blue eyes. They were looking at me curiously as she asked,

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but are you Holly Chance?"

I was now even more cautious. Why and how did she know me? "Yes, I am. And you are...?"

The girl smiled. "I'm Leah Clearwater. You won't know me, but we know lots about you. Billy's been talking non-stop about you and your father."

I nodded, understanding now. "I see. live in La Push then?"

Leah smiled to herself as if she knew something that I didn't. "Yes, I live here. My family have lived here for generations. Are you enjoying it? La Push, I mean."

I nodded, uncomfortably realising that that was a bit of a lie. If Jacob was anything to go by, then La Push and me weren't going to get along very well, although this Leah seemed quite nice.

"Yeah, it's nice. I haven't seen that much of it-"

"Not that there's much to see," cut in Leah.

I laughed. "And I haven't met anyone except you and Jacob and Billy. I'm not very good at socialising though, so I don't really think that I'll meet that many people anyway."

"I get it," said Leah. "But you're my friend now."

I smiled, a little awkwardly, at how forward Leah was, but I liked it – it was refreshing.

"In fact, come over to my place. About seven, say? I want to show you around La Push. That'll probably take about five minutes and then we can hang by the lake or something. Would that be alright?"

I shrugged. "I've got nowhere else to be."

"Cool. So...see you at seven then." She then added hopefully, "Are you going to buy anything?"

I looked around the shop, eyeing the dream catcher that had caught my eye when I'd first entered the shop. I pointed at it and handed Leah the right amount of cash. She told me how to get to her house, then I waved goodbye and walked out the shop.

Although I'd never thought I'd admit it, I was glad to have someone who could be my friend. Remembering Dad's shopping, I went into the general grocery store and bought everything off the list. At the counter, I had to go through another round of "Are you Holly Chance?" and "We've heard all about you", but I eventually escaped.

When I got home, I told Dad about Leah.

"Oh yeah, the Clearwaters. I know Tom well," said Dad, with a nostalgic smile. "That's great honey. I'm real glad you have a friend."

I had thought he was going to pee his pants with excitement at the mention of a friend. I got the rare feeling that I had made my Dad really proud and happy. I liked it.