Dear Journal,

I just finished my second day at school, acquired a minimum wage part-time job, and made a bunch of new friends. Go me! But how many days has it been since I've scored? Eight days and counting? Damn it. Now I suddenly have too much free time and not an inkling of how to spend it.

To make matters worse, the only hot, available guy in the whole school didn't even bother to show up today. What the fuck? Jessica mentioned something about how everyone in his family is an outdoor enthusiast and they usually go camping together or some shit. Give me access to Edward and some rope then…

I paused with my pen poised in the air, thinking back to Ms. Tanya and the reason for this journal. It was supposed to help me get over my fixation with sex, not compound it. I scratch out the words and start again.

Dear Journal,

I have not had a sexual thought the entire day - by which I mean I have not acted on any sexual impulses. I did not stop to masturbate in the bathroom nor did I fantasize about receiving and/or giving head. Perhaps Edward being absent was a blessing in disguise? Maybe all I need to do is avoid him and then I'd cure myself in no time! No other guy inspires carnal thoughts the way he does.

Problem solved!

I close my journal and shove it in my desk just as Charlie walks up the stairs.

"Ready to head over to Billy's place?" he asks, stopping just before the threshold of my door. His eyes dart quickly around the room, as though wary of finding anything incriminating, but feeling compelled by his fatherly duty to check just in case. I nod and he disappears back down the stairs.

Soon we're in his police cruiser, pulling up to a faded yellow house. The surrounding yard is immense, but the house itself is rather compact. There is an old Chevy truck parked under a tree and I can't tell what year it was made. Charlie nods his head in the direction of my gaze.

"So what do you think?" he asks. "It's not flashy like more recent cars, but it's sturdy and dependable. Built to last, that sort of thing."

"I really like it," I say in surprise. And it was true. The truck had its own sort of appeal.

I continue to eye it as we walk to the front door, mentally counting how much I have saved up. That big ol' clunker is coming home with me, one way or another. The door creaks open and at first all I see is an older man in a wheelchair coming towards us. His skin is like weathered leather. I watch as Charlie walks forward and slaps the man on the back in greeting. I don't notice the other guy approaching until I feel his arms wrapped around me.

"What the f-" I yelp, panicked when I feel my toes leaving the ground.

"Bella!" A masculine voice crones in my ear, "You have no idea how much I've missed you! I'm glad you decided to move to Forks!"

I lift my face away from his shoulder, where it had been smothered against a pretty impressive bicep, and look into the eyes of the guy pressed up against me. At first I don't recognize his face. If the man in the wheelchair is Billy, then surely this guy holding me is Jacob, right?

Author's Note : *Waves hand in greeting* I'm still alive! I was cleaning out my computer today and came across this bit of writing I did over a year ago. Rather than deleting it, I thought I'd post it here instead. Hardly a full chapter, but at least it's something. Not sure if anyone is still reading this story, but feel free to share your thoughts!