A/N: Ok, so I'm not gonna give you some BS excuse. Sure, I've been away from home a lot, also I've been busy with my horse being sick and I don't currently have any kind of Word program on my computer, but if I had wanted to I could have updated.

But I didn't, sorry. I suck.

Thank you for all your supportive reviews, I'm glad you like my story as much a I like writing it.

This chapter is longer than usual, is that a good sorry?

Disclaimer: if you recognize it, it isn't mine.

(Announcer voice) 'Previously on 1 New Message'

"Monica killed herself, almost a year after… after everything."

My face was hot and I could feel tears stinging my eyes, threatening to escape. I looked away from Emily, pretending to look for something in my bag so she wouldn't see me cry.

"I'll just leave you to unpack" she whispered.

It somehow sounded like she really meant: 'I'm sorry.' You know; Princess Bride style.

When I heard the door close I flopped down on the bed, knocking my bag down in the process. A few of the top things fell onto the floor. Looking down at them I noted my cell phone charger, a few crumpled dollar bills – all that remained of my graduation money – my iPod and my wallet. I bent to pick them up, but stopped instantly when I saw the corner of a paper sticking out of my wallet.

It was the photograph; the one of my mother and me on the beach.

The other items lay forgotten as I reached for my wallet with trembling hands. I flipped it open and removed the photo slowly, as if it were made of tissue paper. I let out a shaky breath and held the picture up to see.

It was old and faded; living in a box for a decade and a half will do that to a photo. I could still, however, make out her face. She looked so much like me. The same heart-shaped face, high cheekbones casting shadows on the lower half of her cheeks. The same full lips and tanned skin, the same big brown eyes, so dark it was hard to find the pupil.

A tear fell from my eye and hit the picture, I hurriedly wiped it off before it could soak in. I didn't want to damage the photo even more.

I carried the photo over to the mirror, holding it so that I could see both the picture and myself. I looked from myself to her, trying to find more similarities. The woman in the picture was older than me, but only by six or seven years. I found features in common wherever I looked. I had my father's eyebrows, but they were the same color as hers. The lines of our noses were almost the same, mine just a little bit smaller. Our hair was the same shiny black, hers a little longer, mine a little wavier.

She looked so happy, radiant. I tried to twist my face into the same expression, but no matter how hard I tried, I just looked sad, worn, tired.

Tears were now pouring down my face. I gave up on copying my mother's expression and allowed sobs to take hold. I lowered myself to the ground and held it to my chest, rocking back and forth.

I didn't understand. Why was I so upset? I never even knew her. I'd had to guess that the woman this picture was her. It was not like I'd lost anything.

That was a lie.

If I was honest with myself she was what I wanted to find here. I'd never said it out loud, or even let myself think it, but deep down I thought she'd be here.

And she wasn't here.

She wasn't anywhere.

"Monica killed herself, almost a year after… after everything."

Emily's words repeated in my mind, again and again. Each time I heard them I felt the truth sink in a little more.

I pulled my legs in closer to my chest and allowed my tears to soak through the knees of my jeans.

The door opened, but I didn't look up.

"Claire?" A voice said "Emily sent me to…" he stopped short.

I looked up to see the tall one, Jacob, standing in the doorway.

Jacob's eyebrows pushed together in a concerned expression.

"What's wrong, Claire?" he asked, walking over to where I was sitting.

"Nothing." I said.

I didn't feel like explaining myself to a complete stranger. He sighed and sat down next to me, his back resting against the bed frame, knees pulled up close to his chest.

"Right, just crying for fun, then?"

He nudged my arm, pushing me to sit up a little straighter. I complied, lifting my head all the way off of my knees. Jake looked at the photo in my hands.

"Emily told you; about your mom, I mean." He said.

It was almost a question, but not really.

I nodded my head, a few stray tears making their way down my face.

"I'm sorry." Jake said softly. "I remember Monica, she was a nice lady."

"I don't." I said, my voice a but raspy from the sobs.

"Don't what?"

"Remember her."

Jacob sighed.

"My mom was in a car accident when I was little. I don't really remember her much either."

I don't know what I had expected him to say, but that wasn't it. I sat quietly for a moment, trying to think of what to say.

"What do you remember?" I asked, curiously.

The faintest smile traced Jacob's lips.

"I remember she had the brightest smile, just looking at it made you feel warm. I remember she used to tell me stories, little things she made up. What about you, what do you remember?"

I thought back, picturing the little beach scene. I thought hard and told Jacob all I could remember.

"I have this one memory, it's not very clear, but it's all I have. We were on the beach, here I think. There were all these colored rocks and she was asking me which color I liked best."

I tried to remember more, but nothing else came. Another tear rolled down my face.

"Hey, it might not be much, but it's something."

Jacob and I talked for a few minutes. We didn't talk anymore about my mom, but we talked about La Push and he told me about the '67 Chevy he was restoring to take the place of his dying VW Rabbit. I genuinely liked Jake, he managed to make me feel better even without talking about what was bothering me. It was like his sheer presence made me happier, like it wasn't possible to be sad when he was so bright and cheerful.

I suddenly remembered that he hadn't come in here just to chat.

"What were you saying when you came in? Something about Emily?" I asked.

"Right!" Jake said, remembering "She thought you might like a shower, told me to show you where the bathroom was. She would've come herself but she said something about burning the glaze again."

I nodded.

"As it happens, I would like nothing more than to shower."

Jake sniffed at the air.

"I'll bet."

I glared at him, but followed him down the hall to a rather spacious blue and white bathroom. Jacob pointed at a cabinet and told me that it had towels inside. I smiled and waited for him to leave.

When he did I closed and locked the door. I looked at myself in the mirror. You could tell I'd been crying, but it wasn't too bad. I stripped my clothes off, folding them up and setting them on the toilet. I pulled a ridiculously soft towel out of the cabinet Jacob had indicated and set it by the edge of the tub.

I waited a few seconds after I'd turned on the water, letting it heat up before I stepped inside.

The water was warm and soothing, I let it cascade down my back and wash off all the smells of the road. I hadn't realized how much I loved showering until I was forced to miss it for three days of travel.

I stood under the water for several minutes, letting the pounding spray massage the pain of sleeping in my car out of my neck.

There were several bottles lining the edge of the tub. I found one labeled 'shampoo' and squeezed some into my hand. It smelled like lavender and I thought that would be a nice improvement from 'eau de Montana truck stop.'

After washing off the shampoo I turned around and let the water wash over my face. The warm water washed away all signs of tears.

Fifteen minutes later I felt about fifty times better. Clean, warm and fresh-smelling I turned off the shower and wrapped myself up in the extremely fluffy towel. I picked up my clothes and poked my head out into the hall, to make sure the coast was clear. It was, so I pulled the towel tighter and dashed across the hall to my room.

Once inside, I brushed my hair (best to do it while it was wet, before the curls set in) and looked through my bag for some clean clothes. I shimmied into a tight pair of jeans and then surveyed the assortment of shirts I'd brought. It was a lot colder here than I had anticipated, and even though it was May I knew my tank tops weren't going to cut it. I grabbed one that looked pretty clean and threw it on making a mental note to buy some long sleeved shirts.

I walked down the stairs feeling refreshed and much happier than I had been before my shower. In the kitchen Emily was putting a large amount of freshly cooked hamburgers onto a huge dish.

She turned to smile at me when she saw me enter the room.

"Everyone is eating over tonight." She commented when she saw me staring at the enormous pile of food.

Apart from the burgers there were giant dishes of hot dogs, mashed potatoes, corn and about four pies.

"Why don't you go join everyone in the living room while I finish up in here?"

I nodded and did as she said.

"Claire!" Embry called when I walked into the room. "We're just watching Brady kick Jared's ass at guitar hero."

He motioned for me to come join him on the couch. I sat down between him and a woman I didn't recognize. She must have arrived during my shower, along with a second woman who was sitting next to Paul.

She introduced herself as Kim and told me how glad she was that I was back. It was a little weird having so many people I couldn't even remember make a fuss about my coming back.

I spent the next ten minutes watching them play. I had never seen anyone play guitar hero, or any other video game so energetically. It made me tired just watching. After a little while they switched to some zombie game called Left 4 Dead 2. This game involved less jumping around, but a lot more shouting.

Brady won every game and Jared was cursing up a storm by the time Emily called us in for dinner. The amount of food had doubled in the time I'd been watching Jared and Brady play video games and I had no idea how an entire school could eat that much food, much less ten people. The boys rushed forward, descending upon the food like a pack of wolves.

"Ladies first!" Emily yelled, just before they reached the counter.

"Grab a plate now or there will be nothing left" Kim whispered in my ear as she began filling a plate of her own.

I put a burger and some mashed potatoes on my plate and moved over to the table. From my seat I watched in awe as the huge mound of food dwindled. By the time everyone was seated there wasn't any food left on the counter. My jaw dropped and Leah shot me a nasty look.

Dinner was fun. We talked and laughed while we ate. Embry and I talked about movies which somehow dissolved into a debate about the best horror movie. One by on the others joined in our debate.

"The Shining? Are you kidding me?" I exclaimed.

"The Shining is an amazing movie!" replied Collin.

"If you ignore the random waves of blood and disregard for the original plot." Jake chimed in on my behalf.

The argument continued for most of dinner. I joined in the conversation and pretended not to notice all the strange looks (or glares, in Leah's case) I got when people thought I wasn't looking.

Eventually dinner began to wind down. Paul and the woman I now knew to be Rachel announced that they had to get home. Collin and Brady mumbled something about patrolling and left a few minutes after Paul and and Kim decided to go home as well.

Leah practically jumped at the opportunity to leave. I had no idea what her problem was.

With most everyone leaving I decided to head upstairs and crash. I was about to say so when I heard footsteps. I turned to face the door.

A man walked into the room. He was tall and muscular like the others but he was... Hmm, what's the phrase?

Oh, drop dead gorgeous!

He stopped moving when he saw me, his eyes going wide. I felt my stomach flip over when we made eye contact.

He opened his mouth, as if trying to speak and closed it again. He repeated the process a few times before words came to him.

Just one word, actually.

"Claire."

A/N: Alright, what do you think? Good? Bad?

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