A/N: Okay...so, hey everyone! This is my second, I think, multi-chaptered (well it will be eventually) story. It feels like I haven't written anything new in a while. Anyway, I feel this story needs some explanation:

Introduction to story--I decided to combine choices from my poll. This is a Jared/Kim imprint story, but every chapter will be based on a song by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. The lyrics will be placed throughout the chapter. Also, the chapters will be either Jared's or Kim's point of view. The POVs will not necessarily alternate back and forth, though. They will be whatever works for the story.

Lyrics--I'll say this now so that I hopefully won't have to say it again *looks sternly at readers...if she has any*, the lyrics aren't always going to completely fit the story or character's thoughts, so stay with me. Also, it will be my own interpretation of the lyrics and how they fit with what's going on.

Future/Present Works--I'm very disappointed with the response that I got to my last posted chapter of McGonagall's Mission (Harry Potter fic). I don't know if my readers have lost interest or what. I know that I haven't been the greatest author/poster at the moment and I'm sorry for that. It takes time, though, for me to get all of the ideas that are swirling in my head down on paper (well, computer) in a way that will make sense. As for future works, I have a couple stories that I am working on for FictionPress (my PenName for FictionPress is YouxHadxMexAtxHello so check it out!) and some ideas for stories for FanFiction. I will probably post a new poll concerning future stories or works for FanFiction.

Okay, sorry to bore you, but now Disclaimers: I do not own Twilight, that belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I also do not own the song Disconnected which belongs to The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. Alright...enjoy.

Chapter One- Disconnected (Kim's POV)

You know that you are
The center of my attention
And you leave me no choice
Tripping on to the floor
Looking at my reflection
As I follow the chord to your voice
As it rings on through
Your voice clearly receptive like the day we met I knew

Invisible- not prominent or readily noticeable; impossible to see. That is how it is defined in a dictionary. Nine letters, four syllables. Just a simple word usually meaning no more than the silly super power of a cartoon character on television. To me, however, that word labeled my existence.

When I was younger, I didn't understand why I was overlooked so repeatedly. All I ever wanted to do was scream, "I'm right here, look at me." I didn't, though. I was too shy, and I still am. I'm not a boring person, just content to keep to myself. No, not content...obligated, I guess, is a better word. No one ever really took the time to listen and understand me, not even my parents. They're good people, just not good parental figures; too much of workaholics for that.

As I stood, staring and critiquing my reflection, I realized why I was disregarded with so much ease. I was plain. Not unfortunate looking, but not exquisite either. My black hair reached a little bit below the top of my ribs and was thin and flat. My honey-brown eyes were too small to balance out my wide face, and my extra long eyelashes seemed out of place. My broad nose and mouth didn't help much either. Although I could easily point out every single one of my flaws, I wasn't totally unhappy with myself. I appreciated the unique milk-and-coffee look of my silky skin. It was very different from the copper skin tone that most people had on the reservation. I was also fond of the dark pink color that my lips seemed to have naturally acquired.

I slipped on a pair of light-wash jeans and a navy blue, long-sleeved sweater. I slung my bag on my shoulder and grabbed my copy of Pride and Prejudice off my nightstand. I shivered as I padded down the hallway in my socks and was glad when, at last, I shoved my frozen toes into my sneakers. My parents were already at their respective jobs, so the house was serene and quiet as usual. I stood on my tip-toes and guided my hand among the boxes of food in our pantry until I found one that contained granola bars. I wasn't short, probably about five-foot-seven; our pantry had some pretty high shelves. I ripped open my breakfast and bit into the crunchy food. My eyes widened as I looked at the clock. I hurried to wrap my coat around my tiny frame as I stumbled out the door. I locked it behind me and scurried down the sidewalk. It was about a fifteen to twenty minute walk to school from my house, but I didn't mind, except for days like this. The rain dampened my jeans, and I was going to be late for my first period class…history.

Don't hang up on me 'cause I'm hung up on you
Don't tell me how to feel like you always do
I know you're right, I don't wanna fight
Is this how our story ends or a new chapter begins?

I hastily threw things in my locker and, with much effort, pulled the books that I needed before lunch from my overstuffed bag. The hallway was empty apart from a few lingering students. I put my head down as I jogged to my class. I silently walked into the classroom and blushed as I gazed at the tile floor. I could feel the teacher, Mr. Hodges, and the rest of my classmates staring at me. As soon as I reached my seat all the way to the left of the classroom by the large bay windows, the students had turned to the front of the room, and Mr. Hodges had continued his lecture about the Cold War. I was left in the dust, already forgotten.

I pulled out and opened my history notebook, expertly flipping past the first ten or so pages that were filled with initials inside hearts. I started to take notes, but my hand had a mind of its own as it began to form different letters. I looked at my paper to see "Jared" scrawled in my boyish print. I blushed and carefully looked to the desk next to me, which held the object of my affection. Jared Lupus had shaggy black hair that hung a little past his chin and dark chocolate eyes that made you want to melt...well it made me melt anyway. He was about five-foot-eleven and was built pretty muscular, but he was on the high school's football team so it was expected. His smile was beautiful and gorgeous. He was amazing, smart, funny and-

"Miss Connweller?"

My head snapped to the front of the room where Mr. Hodges was standing, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Yes?" I asked timidly.

"I asked you what year the Soviet Union collapsed, and I would like you to answer the question today please," he uttered obviously annoyed.

"Oh, uh 1991," I stammered.

"Yes, thank you. That led to the United States being the dominant military power. This was-"

I tuned out the rest of his lecture, and I was sure that about ninety-three percent of the other students in the classroom were doing the same. I continued my musings of Jared. I still had a crush on him from when I was thirteen. I was seventeen and a junior in high school now. Jared and I had gone to school together since we were little, everyone had. There were only three schools on the reservation: an elementary school, a middle school, and a high school. Still, Jared never noticed me. He just fell into the trench of people that continued to look through me every day.

As the days roll by
Can't help myself just sit and wonder why
Was it something I said?
Something I did? My girl
Your wilted roses make me cry
A sentimental sign of rejection
As I follow the chord to your voice
As it rings on through
Your voice clearly receptive like the day we met I knew

The week went slowly, and homework was piled onto our backs as though we were our teachers' own personal pack mules. I sat alone at an empty table in the cafeteria reading on Wednesday just like every other day. Part of the reason I brought a book to read is that I used it as an excuse to not look around the lunchroom. Right about now was when Kieran Bennett, Jared's latest girlfriend, would walk over to his table and flirt shamelessly. That was something I didn't want to see.

Nobody even stared at me, wondering why I sat alone. They didn't even see me, I was transparent. I considered what I could possibly have done to make myself this way. I wasn't unapproachable or hostile. I was simply introverted, but I had opinions and thoughts that I wished I could share with someone other than my diary. I yearned to be able to tell my parents that I wanted to be a writer or a literature teacher, but to them they are both impractical careers. I wished that people knew I could draw fairly well and that I thought Harry Potter was one of the best series of books ever written. I desired to tell somebody, anybody, that I had always wanted Atticus from To Kill a Mockingbird to be my father. I had always wondered what would be worse, being mocked and ridiculed or unseen. I was beginning to think the latter.

~*~

I staggered through the halls trying to make it to my last class of the day on time. My head was down, and I walked with a purpose. I collided with something and would have fell to the ground had the person I knocked into not reached out and caught me by my shoulders.

"Sorry," they muttered almost imperceptibly.

I peeked up to the person standing before me. Jared Lupus stood gazing at something over my right shoulder. I blushed as I looked at his striking features. His hands were above the average temperature for a healthy person, and I wondered if he was coming down with something. I almost swooned as I looked into his eyes. They weren't even focused on me, but that seemed trivial. Too soon he let go of his hold on my upper arms and stepped around me. I stared after him as he continued on his way down the crowded hallway, continued on with his life.

Don't hang up on me 'cause I'm hung up on you
Don't tell me how to feel like you always do
I know you're right, I don't wanna fight
Is this how our story ends or a new chapter begins?
Begins...

The rain saturated my clothes and hair with water as I half-ran home. I jiggled my keys into the lock on our front door.

I threw me keys onto the counter in our kitchen, and they fell onto the island with a thud. I looked at the clock on our microwave: four o'clock. I knew my parents wouldn't be home until at least ten, so I started making dinner for myself. I'll admit that sometimes I feel deserted, like my parents forgot they ever gave birth to me. I would never complain, though. They made sure that our house was stocked with food so that I could keep myself fed and gave me a place to live. For that I was happy.

I was just finishing the last of my whopping pile of homework when I heard the front door creak open and slam shut. The parental unit, or at least one part of it, was home. The clock read half past ten. I put my pen down softly and stood up from my mahogany desk. The stairs groaned in protest as I made my way to the kitchen.

"Hey," I heard my mom say.

"Oh, hi," I replied walking into the kitchen. I saw my mom leaning over the sink, her back facing away from me.

"So, how is everything?"

"Okay, I guess. Well, today I-" I was cut off as my mother whirled around, frantically pointing at the earpiece on the side of her head. Oh, she was talking to a client or her boss. My mom was a real estate agent for the small town of La Push. Where she got all her business from, I'll never know.

I walked dejectedly upstairs and lay down on my bed in an attempt to go to sleep. I could only think about Jared, my parents, Jared, school, and more Jared. My parents lived for work and worked to live. Along their way to the top they had forgotten a lot of things. My dad even forgot where he came from. My dad was one-hundred percent Quileute, but we no longer honored or even acknowledged their traditions. I used to love when my grandpa had sat me on his knee and told me the old legends as he smoked an ancient pipe. He died when I was ten years old, and I still miss him.

Lastly, I reflected on my crush on a certain boy. I really liked him. I mean I really, really, really liked him. I've sat next to him since we were in the eighth grade. Four years I have sat next to him and he has only ever spoken to me when he needs the answer to a question or to ask for an extra pen or pencil. I supposed he doesn't even know my name.

Don't hang up on me 'cause I'm hung up on you
Don't tell me how to feel like you always do
I know you're right, I don't wanna fight
Is this how our story ends or a new chapter begins?

Friday, the last day of the school week. I think tomorrow I would go sketch or write in the spot I found a couple of weekends ago. I hope it still looks the same as last time, I thought to myself. The field I discovered had been beautiful in the spring. Wheat grew in bold colors of gold and tan. White clouds smeared across a canvas of blue. Trees covered in leaves of fluorescent greens created a circle around the wheat field. Ever since I discovered my little hideout, I had been craving to go back. It stirred a feeling in me that I can't describe. It made me feel blissful and happy and many things I can't even put into words. It was a place where I could be totally at peace.

I was interrupted as Mr. Hodges and some of the stragglers ambled into History 2. Everyone came in and took their seats. Everyone except Jared, that is. I wonder where he is, I pondered frenetically.

I peered around the cafeteria at lunch time. I placed Pride and Prejudice on my lap and took a better look around the boisterous space. Still no Jared. I concluded that he probably wasn't coming to school today. I really hoped he was just out sick with a one-day stomach bug. Maybe I should go by his house and give him a fruit basket or something? No, no, it wouldn't matter if I cared. Maybe I'll just discreetly mosey past his house after school. I'll just have to take the longer way home, no big deal.

History was extremely boring without Jared to watch. During the forty-five minute subject, I had filled two entire pages in my notebook with "I love Jared" and "Mr. and Mrs. Jared Lupus", which was normal for me anyway.

~*~

Jared's entire house was dark, but it still had a very quaint feel even without anybody home. Since I didn't see him anywhere, I jogged faster past his house. I passed a strip of woods as the sun starting sinking in the sky. It was a magnificent sight, and I wanted so bad to stay forever.

I heard a howl from deep in the dense forest. I whipped my head around and searched the trees. I would have sworn that I saw a flash of dark brown in the plummeting sun, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared.

"I'm losing my mind," I whispered out loud to myself.

I sat propped up on some pillows in my bed later that night. I had my sketch pad out and was tapping a pencil against my chin trying to think of what to draw. I thought about the sun in the sky this afternoon and the opaque woodlands. I also replayed the burst of brown that I had seen in the forest over in my head. I deliberated what it could possibly be. Maybe a fox? Or a bear? It could have possibly just been my eyes deceiving me. The last was the most likely of the three.

I caught a glimpse of my once-blank piece of paper to see a rough outline of a regal wolf staring back at me. Its eyes held such emotion that I was afraid it could see into my soul. I hastily shoved my sketch pad under my bed wanting to break the trance that those eerily impassioned eyes had captured me in.

Ending A/N: I hope you liked it. I know there will be at least a few grammatical errors seeing as that is not my strong point. Well, please drop a review...you know you want to. No really *starts making mind controlling gestures (whatever those are)* you are getting sleepy and you want to review my story before you take a niiiice long nap.