I get the job at the diner. My first training shift is quiet. They have me in for the day shift a few days a week, so I'm not full-time. I have few skills with any, and I don't know if I can legally even serve alcohol though I do bring out pints of beer to the few truckers who find a spot to rest in Forks. I make polite conversation.

It's really quiet. I don't mind.

I make friends with the chef, Henry. He's polite enough, an older fellow with a pot belly and a hearty laugh to match. He promises to let me sneak home some food, so long as I leave through the back entrance. That's no problem with me, but I feel bad for the boys at home. I'd offer them some of my food, but they eat way too much.

When it is time to go home, and I've texted Embry to come and pick me up, there is only one customer in the diner. Unfortunately, she approaches me.

It's the same person that I saw yesterday. She's wearing the same dark sunglasses as before, even though we are indoors. From close, I can see her lips. They are plump and the colour of raspberries. Her nose is just as sweet, a tiny dainty thing on her face. Her long dark hair goes down into the middle of her back.

"Excuse me," she says. "Do you mind sitting me in a booth? Tables always make my back hurt."

"Sure," I say, even though I'm technically done my shift. I don't even take in a deep breath and top her off. Rather, I plaster a smile on my face. "I won't be your server though. Marie will."

"That's too bad," she says. She pulls a book out from her purse. "Have you ever read Dracula?"

"I really should get going," I say, trying to soften my eyes.

She puckers her lips for a second, before readjusting. She turns and brushes past me without offering thanks. It feels like a ghost passes through me, though I remind myself there are no such things as ghosts. Or vampires, for that matter.

Damned Dracula.

Outside, Embry's car is already waiting for me.

"You good?" he asks, scanning my face.

"Mhm," I bite my lip. As much as I feel close to Embry, I feel like I cannot trust him. He just reports back to Jake everything he does, I imagine. There could not be a secret between us if I wanted it.

"Okay," he says, and we ride back to La Push.

My first paycheck, which we've negotiated with the owner to be in cash since I don't have a bank account or a Social Security Number, won't be for a week. Then, if I get a second job to work nights, I will be able to afford to move to Forks. It'll take some time, but I'll be settled. That is, if this stranger isn't a private investigator brought here to drag me home to the convent.

When we arrive back at the house, we fall into the swing of things. We eat dinner, and then we eat breakfast the next day and lunch. I go to work for three days in a row, each day expecting to see the lady, but she never does show up again. In my free time, I chat with the boys. The boys ask me if I've heard anything at night, which is odd but I don't press them. I take my hearing aids out at night, and if they want to keep their activities secret from me, I'll let them.

One night, I dream that the lady is watching me through the window. It seems she her eyes, which have remained hidden to me, are following me no matter where I go.

With the weather getting colder, we sit around the living room on Saturday night. It's too cold for a fire, though I'm sure the boys don't notice. They are still wearing shorts and tanks, after all. Sometimes, they are even shirtless. Even inside the house, I cling to my leather jacket because of the cold.

Quil and Embry each steal a lounge chair, so Jacob and I share the couch. He sits as far away from me as possible, practically snuggling with the chair's arm.

"What game are we playing tonight, gang?" Quil asks.

"We have Monopoly," Embry offers.

I've never played Monopoly before. We only played games that weren't considered worldly. Really, my only connection to the world is music. Growing up, I was once allowed to play karaoke. Only once though.

"I didn't know they made a blind version of Monopoly," I look over at Jacob, happy that he can be included.

"Scratch that," Quil says quickly. "Let's play a verbal game. Like never have I ever?"

"We've already played that," Jacob shakes his head.

"Well, how about the voting game?" Quil suggests. "Truth or drink?"

"Truth or drink," I agree since I don't really understand the voting game's premise.

"Sounds good," Quil says.

He gets up and brings back a bottle of vodka and four shot glasses. I watch as he pours a shot into each. The liquid nearly spills over the top. I am not prepared for this.

"Embry, who was your one-night stand?" Quil asks.

Jacob and Quil laugh as Embry picks up one of the shot glasses and pounds it back.

"Hey, Fawn," Embry turns to me. He pats his chest. "Where are you from again?"

I'm a quick learner, so I get what I have to do. So, I pick up a shot glass and pour the vodka down my throat. It thunders through me, like fiery lightning. I could, practically choking on it.

"Let's give Fawn a beer," Jacob says.

I brush him aside. "I can handle it."

"Really?" Quil questions. "Because we go hard."

When I nod, the game continues. I need a second to let the fire ignite my throat. "Jacob, who was the last person you kissed?"

"Bella," he says, "and she's the only person I've ever kissed."

The game goes on, with them mostly pestering Quil about substances that he abuses and Embry about sexual escapades. Any question that hits me, I drink.

"Are your parents evil?"

"Are you afraid of them?"

"How long ago did you run away?"

"Why Forks?"

That one I can answer. I chose Forks because of the rain. It might seem silly, given that hearing aids cannot get soaked, but I couldn't help myself. It's the rainiest place in the continental USA.

"I think it's beer time," Embry says.

"I'm fine," I insist. I've gotten up to use the bathroom three times now. Each time, the room practically spins around me. It's hard to sit down on the toilet without keeling over. I've lost count of how many shots I've had.

"You aren't," Jacob insists. "You're slurring."

I shrug. My body tips forward, and I hang there with my eyes shut, before sitting up. "I'll answer the next question without drinking. We'll give it a few minutes."

"Okay," Quil says. "Everyone has to be honest for the next round. That's doable. Jacob, what was your first impression of Fawn."

Jacob stiffens. His head tilts forward, and his glasses slide down his face. He pulls them back up, and it's too quick for me to get a glance at his eyes, but now it's all I want more than anything in the world.

"I thought her voice was soft and sweet, like a violin," Jacob admits, taking a deep breath in and out. He furrows his brow and bites his lip. "I thought, she must be beautiful. I wasn't sure if I wanted to see her. I still don't know. I wasn't sure if I had made a mistake or not."

The air in my throat tightens. I scan Jacob's face for any flicker, a twitch of his lips or brow, the scrunch of his nose, but he is expressionless.

"For what it's worth, she is good-looking," Quil says.

Embry rolls his eyes. "You should see her."

"Well, I can't," Jacob says. He gestures up to his blinded eyes.

The room is quiet. I tuck my hair behind my ear. It's difficult for me to be the centre of attention. It feels like pulling out a sliver. Long, sharp, and arduous. One wrong move and something is deeply stuck inside me, and I won't be able to get it out. Eyes on me. I wait for the howl of a wolf, or for anyone else to speak.

Eventually, Jacob clears his throat. "Fawn, why did you run away?"

I should not have agreed to one sober round. If I wanted to, I could lie. Just claim my parents were overbearing, which isn't entirely untrue. Maybe say they were abusive, but I wouldn't want to lie about that.

"My parents are part of a delusional group of people," I say, sighing. "The convent believes that they are the special chosen ones, here to eradicate the world of evil. Like every kid figures out that Santa isn't real, I figured out that evil doesn't exist. At least, not the kind that the 18 of us were hunting."

"What were you hunting?" Quil asks.

I reach forward for a shot glass. Not because I'm keeping it a secret, but because if I say it out loud, I'm going to need to be drunker.

I pour back the shot. "It's stupid really. They think they are vampire hunters."

~~~~~

Teehee. How silly of me. I think this is a fun development. I don't think anyone guessed it, but it is interesting nonetheless.

How do you think this will play out?