I'm an aspiring writer, so therefore it takes me a lot of courage to put up a story that is not superb. This has been an ongoing struggle consisting of whether to leave or post this long-awaited peice of writing.

Nevertheless, here it is. It took me about three months to actually edit, write, and contemplate what to turn this into. I hope you enjoy.

I do not own the Twilight Saga.

"Bianca, you don't have to do this," Mom said wearily. She averted her eyes from the road, looking me straight in the eyes instead.

"Honey-" I glared.

"Keep your eyes on the wheel, Mom. I don't want to get into an accident," I said hastily. She looked at me quickly, once again, before puckering her coral pink lips and focusing on the road. I sighed, leaning my head back against the headrest.

The sun wasn't shining in Forks and the clouds were about the most interesting landmark of the gloomy town. It was dull, grey, and covered by dense patches of greenery and forests. It was much different from Spokane, Washington, where I was from. I had a darker tan from the sun there, but I was sure in this town I'd get much paler than a Native American girl should be.

It was a good thing I'd brought sweaters, because I was sure I wouldn't be seeing a lot of sunny days.

I opened my eyes and let myself stare out at the luscious greenery. Plants I could hardly identify peeked up from the moist-looking soil, mingling and mixing with the trees and bushes. I was used to shops and malls in the place of the plants. It was maddening that I couldn't think of any of these plants ever being in Spokane.

"Honey, I'm giving you one last chance. We can turn around. We can-"

"Mom . . ." I warned.

"We're almost to the reservation I'm just making sure you know what you're doing . . ." she trailed off, a vulnerable look in her hazel eyes that I often had in mine.

"No mom. Stop asking me, I know what I'm doing. I want to go." I held onto the door quickly, securing myself until Mom finished her sharp turn into the reservation. She leaned over me and pushed open my door roughly.

"Bye," she mumbled. I grabbed my suitcase from the backseat and sighed.

"Bye," I replied, running a hand through my thick hair. I slammed the door, watching as she drove off quickly with the same pucker of her coral lips she often used to show disapproval. I smiled, ready to face the new life I'd start here with my brother.

I waited until the car had disappeared into the far horizon before walking onto the porch. I hesitated a moment before ringing the intricately designed doorbell. I waited before the wooden door, tapping my foot, a pucker forming on the my lips.

Finally the door opened, revealing an Emily with mussed hair and swollen lips. I didn't want to imagine what she and my brother had done.

She smiled, pulling me into a tight hug. I hugged her back just as tight. I had missed Emily from her scars down to her last bit of gourmet cooking.

When we finally pulled apart, I held back the urge to squeal in pure delight. "Where's Sam?"

She smirked, half of the smile pulled down by the three scars on her right side of her face. "Getting his clothes on."

"Why?" I asked curiously. "Oh ugh, I didn't need to know that." I groaned.

She hummed appreciatively, seeing my discovery and reaction.

"Emily," called a voice. "Is it Bianca?"

"The one and only," I said before Emily could reply.

"Bianca!" His booming voice shook my frame to the core. He ran to me and swung me in a circle. I giggled, a sound I hadn't made in years.

"I've missed you so much, Sam," I said, burying my face in his neck. "There's so much I've missed, I'm sure. Mom wouldn't let me see you. 'Said it was too 'dangerous' for me to go."

"Really," he said, his eyebrows shooting up practically to his hairline. "I'll have to talk to her about that." He and Emily shared a look that I couldn't read. I momentarily wondered if he was a murderer or something that Mom wanted to steer me clear of.

"Yeah, really. I told her that I hadn't been here since I was fourteen. It was urgent that I visit." Being about sixteen now, it had been two since I last came to visit Sam. I talked to them periodically and they had stopped to see Mom and I at one point, but nevertheless it had felt like a millennia since my mom and I had moved away to another city.

Emily ushered me in, practically shoving me into a chair and telling me to get comfortable. I grinned- she had always acted like everybody was her children, even if the particular person didn't want to be spoiled. I leaned back into the chair and watched her for a good few minutes; she was bustling around the kitchen, preparing something that looked like a meal for five-hundred lions.

"Are you hungry?" Emily asked. I hadn't noticed that I was hungry until she mentioned it. My stomach almost immediately growled.

I smiled sheepishly at the both of them. The growl had been loud enough for both of them to hear, much to my dismay. It was obvious that they were preparing a dinner for someone or something judging by the heaps of food that were laid out in giant plates of the tables. I didn't want to disturb them and eat some of the food.

"I'm fine," I answered, waving her off. She looked skeptic, but continued on with making her food, knowing that I wouldn't except it no matter how many times she offered a plate to me. I wasn't that hungry anyway; there had been food in the car on the way here.

I was only slightly startled when Sam pulled out a chair across from me and rested a hand under his chin. He rested his head on the fist and looked me straight in the eye.

Gosh Dammit, I thought, What did I do, I just got here?

"Are you staying here or with The Bastard?" He said lowly, using 'The Bastard' as another name to address our father. I shrugged at him. My plan had been to stay with him- he had never treated me bad as far as I could tell. Sam had acted as a father figure most of my life before our mother decided to move away from La Push and my father occasionally visited me- so he was okay I guess, but I would still rather stay with Sam.

"I'm staying with you," I replied, frowning. "What's the problem with dad?"

He looked like he was about to snap at me, but Emily stopped her bustling and whispered something too low for me to hear. She then kissed him on the cheek and went on to check on whatever was in the oven. He seemed oddly at peace after her whispering in his ear.

"Not at all." He sat back a little more in his seat. I couldn't tell whether he was angry or okay with it, but guessing by the bastard comment, he wasn't exactly happy. "So why did mom drop you off here? Didn't you want to see The Bastard?"

"For the same reason you call him a bastard," I replied, rolling my eyes at his single-mindedness. He should know by now that Mom hated Dad. It was a mutual feeling between all three of them of which I didn't really agree with. Nevertheless, they would never listen to me if I tried to work something out.

He raised an eyebrow and snuck a glance at Emily, who had taken to listening in on our conversation while she finished up cooking. "So am I being expected to drop you off?"

I shook my head. He didn't need to drive me anywhere; I was perfectly capable of getting there by myself. "No, I can walk."

He and Emily both looked at me as skeptically as they had when I refused food.

"Really, it's only a bit away from here and I wont be going for quite a while," I added quickly.

"Good," Emily said quickly. Thank god for Emily. She had always known how I felt, even if I didn't tell her.

I smiled at them reassuringly. "I'll get going and set up my space if you'd like- I don't mean to intrude. Besides, I need to get settled quickly."

"You're not intruding at all!" She exclaimed, her motherly side coming out again.

I got up and grabbed my suitcase. "I'll visit him tomorrow, okay?"

"That works," Sam said. I nodded even though I probably wasn't going to need to go any time other than for visits.

As I went to open the door, he said something that made me turn back around and close it. "Did Mom fail to mention that he is an alcoholic?"

My breath hitched. "Yes," I squeaked as I turned around to meet his eyes. Alcoholism was something that I had seen often in my town- which was I wanted to leave Spokane. I made the decision to come here so I could get away from all the drama back home, but yet there alcoholism was, taunting me in the form of my father. I hadn't ever associated alcohol with good people and I wasn't going to start now.

I made a split second decision. "Can I not go?"

"That's what I was looking for. That's why I call him a bastard, Bi."

"I'll take you to your room," Emily said, a touch of relief in her voice. I hesitated and stared at Sam before following her down the hall.

"I'll call him and let him know that you won't be," he paused. "showing up."

Emily must have sensed my discomfort, because the second she got me into the room, she started to talk about me making myself at home. I pretended to listen, but was really contemplating whether to stay long. I was a burden, no matter how much they wanted to deny it. I was showing up and suddenly they had a guest at their house. I didn't want Sam to have to cut work to make sure I was taken care of. He was my older brother and clearly had a life of his own.

When I walked in, his girlfriend and him had just finished doing things I didn't particularly want to know about. Just me walking in on that made me shiver. If I'm at their house, I would be seeing a lot more of their personal life than I wanted to see. I sighed to myself; this was going to be a long stay.

"Bianca? Are you listening?" Emily snapped her fingers in front of my face.

"Not particularly," I answered teasingly.

She shook her head, muttering about how Sam and I both had no attention span whatsoever. I carried my stuff into the room and dumped it all on the bed; I would sort it out later. Em also shook her head at this, muttering something about disorganization.

When I started to pull out an outfit to change into from the clothes I had worn the whole sweaty car rid, Emily took it as her cue to leave. As she started to leave, I saw her drop two homemade granola bars onto my smoothed-down comforter. This soothed me a lot; it made me feel welcome.

I grabbed one hungrily and munched happily on it as I picked an outfit. I decided on simple jeans and a sweatshirt that bore a quote about how important girls' athleticism was. I pulled on leathery brown ankle boots that I hadn't known I even packed; thank goodness for my forgetful mind. If I hadn't packed these, I probably would have worn flats and sandals in the windy weather.

I grabbed the other granola bar off the bed and ate it as I threw everything into the tiny closet space that had been given to me. I would also have to organize that later; I didn't want to be messing up my brother's house so early in my visit. Goodness knows he would get enough of that farther into the visit.

Still munching on the granola bar, I made my way downstairs. There was a dryness in my throat, and I didn't particularly want to steal anything from the fridge just yet. I looked around the kitchen, and oddly enough, the food was gone. I sighed, took a big breath, and yelled for him.

"Sam!"

It took a moment before he replied.

"Yes, Biance Alison?"

I crossed my arms at his use of my middle name. I had always hated the sound of it paired with the my name; the sounds together had never been something I liked. "Can I raid your fridge?" I could practically see him roll his eyes.

He didn't answer, but it was enough validation for me. I ran to the fridge and pulled out the first things I saw; a cold, delicious can of soda. I popped the top and drained the can as quickly as I could. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had soda.

I was right on the verge of licking the edges of the cans when I heard voices. I dropped the sloppy-looking soda can onto the counter and quickly wiped the edges of my face off with my sleeves. Luckily, the sweater was black, but I could almost hear my mother scolding me for being improper.

On the bright side, it was only Sam walking in, but on another matter, he had cordially invited me to come to a bonfire with him and his friends. If I was judging by how big my brother was, I was guessing his Quilete friends would look about the same. Gorgeous (in a brotherly way) and tall.

Sam's little sister, however, was lanky and muscled and looked nothing like a lot of the reservation girls. From what I had seen in my short time on the reservation, most of the girls were petite with long, flowing black hair, dark eyes, and extremely pretty tan skin. I had to have gotten the weird genes; I had slightly lighter skin, medium-length brown hair, freckles, and hazel eyes. I was also taller than I should've been at the tender age of sixteen, my lanky form just a little taller than five-seven.

My personality wasn't that great either, as I had been told. I had always been 'too loud' or 'too energetic', something that had made me insecure for years.

Nevertheless, I accepted his offer.

What was the worst that could happen, anyways?

I rubbed my knuckles together, a nervous habit that I had done since I was a little girl. There was a lot of things to think about. What would my father think about me not coming to stay with them? Would Sam's friends even like me? Could I get any friends here besides Emily and my brother?

I didn't stop until my knuckles started to sting; they were red and raw. I hadn't noticed that I had done it for so long.

Footsteps sounded down the hall, so I stuffed my raw hands into my pockets and looked up at the door.

"You ready?" Sam asked.

I shifted uncomfortably. "I'm always ready, you know I get nervous before meeting infarmiliar people."

He rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long evening.

I'm very excited about this story. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!