•Lunch•

Sammy's POV

"Sam.. What the hell happened to your hand?" Adam demands. I shrug, "It's just a sprain." He raises an eyebrow, "Are you gonna be able to wrestle with that?" I nod, "Yeah, no problem." Uriah and his girlfriend, Amy sit down, along with David, Austin, Joey, Ben, and Josiah. Out of all of the boys on the wrestling team, I was the closes to these seven.

"So, Blake's not wrestling." Amy states, as if its a question, pointed at me. I scoff, "He has no reason not to." Amy shrugs, "Apparently his nose is broken and he has a pretty severe concussion." She remarks. "Oh." I say, trying to stay as nonchalant possible. "Did he say how it happened?" When I realize they weren't responding, I look up from my bowl of soup, and ask, "What?" The roll their eyes, or scoff. "He said you happened." I frown, "Just me? I supposedly gave him a broken nose and a concussion?" I demand, arms crossed. "Well with the situation and the fact that he was under the influence, it's understood. But Paul.. Paul just punched him for no reason." Uriah explains. "Paul was more there for me than all of you. You were all drunk, and he wasn't. I don't think you fucking understand!" I snap. "I was-I was vulnerable, and I hated it. I couldn't respond correctly, and he made so that I didn't have to. Do you understand that?!" I demand. David speaks up, "Well.. Then you should be happy that Paul is your partner for the creative writing project." He hands me a rubric, and I actually growl under my breath, "Fucking beautiful."

I look up, searching for Paul's tall frame. I find him in the back, with his friends everyone's scared of. Their just tall and on steroids. I've pinned people their size. I start towards them, and the whole time, Paul's eyes stay on me. Soon, his friends look up too, and the whole table decides I'm the most interesting thing in the room. I pick up the pace, because their eyes on me made me feel nothing but uncomfortable. I finally make it to the table, and slam the paper down, before pushing it over to Paul.

"Are you going to work or not?" I demand.

"What the hell is this?" He scoffs back.

"It's a project. Can you read? If you would've stayed in class, you would've known that." I mutter, before grabbing a chair and sitting down.

"Well maybe if you weren't so stupid, and just used gloves instead of spraining your goddamn hand, I wouldn't have a reason to leave the class." He snarls.

"Maybe if you hadn't taken the whole 'I'll be the asshole' thing so seriously, we wouldn't be in this situation!" I snap.

"Maybe you should practice not dating jackasses!"

"Oh, so now this is about my fucking boyfriend?! Go to hell, Paul!" I get up from the chair, and storm away.

"I'll see you there, sweetheart." He growls after me.

I simply hold up my middle finger, and keep going.

"She's nice."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

•Seventh Period•

"Will all wrestlers meet in the gym, right now."

About half of the class immediately stands up with me, and we leave the room, with Uriah in the lead and me behind him. It was funny how that worked out, being teased for being the only girl, and ending up as the co-captain.

I walk to the freshman bay of lockers, and reach up, grabbing my duffle from the top. I sling it onto my shoulder, and open my locker. I grab my polar fleece before slamming it shut.

"Are you leaving?" I don't have to look up to know that it's Paul, and nod, "I'm a wrestler aren't I?" I say evenly before turning and facing him. He sighs, and stares at the ceiling for a couple seconds, "I don't want to fight with you." He says quietly. I shrug, "Well then don't."

"Sammy.."

"Paul."

I glance around him, and see David waiting for me. "I have to go. See you around." I say, before walking away. "Sammy." I turn around, and Paul is right behind me. "Be careful." He says seriously, his hand resting on my face. His thumb runs across my cheek, and then he walks away abruptly. I blink, then shake my head and turn around.

"Ooooh." David teases. "Shut up." I murmur. "You're blushing." He says, with a slight smile. "I don't like him." I mutter, embarrassed. "And he doesn't like you." He says nonchalantly. I glare at him, before sending an elbow into his ribcage, "Shut the fuck up."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Sammy, I'm telling you now. Do not get mad." I roll my eyes, "Just spit it out, Coach."I say seriously. "All of your matches forfeited." He says quickly, then clears his throat. "What?!" I yell, standing up. He sighs. "They can't fucking do that! I came all the way out here to the middle of nowhere to do nothing?! Are you kidding me?! This is a fucking outrage!" I kick the chair next to me over, before sitting down again, arms crossed. Coach rubs his brow, and mutters something about an Aspirin. "What the hell am I supposed to do now? Huh?" I demand, glaring up at him. "It's not my fault." He says exasperatingly. I scoff, and roll my eyes, blowing the hair out of my face. "Sammy it just means they've looked at your record. You're a fucking fighting machine and loosing to you is well, the norm. They'd probably rather do it without the cuts and bruises. It just shows how much of a coward they are." He says, "Just chill here. I'll come get you for the first one."

When coach mentions my "record", he means my fighting history. I told him all about it last year, and he immediately changed my street fight/kickboxing style into a more wrestling mindset. I grew up fighting with people around me to keep what I could. Around the age of ten, I no longer lost to anyone. There is definitely a reason I dislike cutting my nails off. I mean, I know it stupid, and weird, but it's not like I can obtain a gun at the age of five. But my nails drew blood and that's all I needed. When I was thirteen an Italian family took me in, up in The Bronx. The grandfather taught me how to kick box; he himself had been a hall of famer. Lets just say my history in fighting helps me succeed in my present situation.

"Sammy." I look up, and Blake is standing there. And for the first time, I actually look at his nose. It looks horrible. It's curved like a j and is blue, purple, and black. Yeah, I did a better job than I thought. I almost smile, "What?" I demand, leaning away from him. He sits next to me, "I'm sorry. I know what I did was wrong and I said I would do the complete opposite... I just l-" "Don't you dare try to pull that 'I just love you so much' shit with me." I order, eyes narrowed. He sighs, and sits back, "I was gonna say.. I just... Let my mind go and I... Shouldn't have." I scoff, "Leave me alone, alright, Blake? When I'm ready I'll talk to you." I get up, and head over towards the bleachers.

When I sit down next to Amy, she glances at me, before immediately turning back to the mats. Uriah was wrestling, and all of the coach's chairs on the mat were taken. This was as close as she could get, and she was obviously worried. I bump her shoulder, "He'll be fine, he hasn't lost any of his last five matches." I say optimistically. She just shrugs, and keeps her eyes glued forward. Uriah ended up loosing, and coach was pissed. Did I mention that coach is his dad? I watched as coach yells at him, before making a wild gesture at Amy. Uriah gets angrier then, and swells up. He towers over coach, his muscular frame completely shielding coach from view. He roars at him for a straight two minutes, his frame shaking from anger. Then, he blurs off the mat. Amy instantly stands up, and runs after him.

Sitting back, I think about their relationship. They were constantly there for each other; it was obvious. Uriah doesn't even remember the last time he slept in his own bed. They're inseparable. And when he throws his little fits like many of us do after losing, Amy's there to calm him down. I was honestly jealous. When Blake and I step on the mats, we're teammates and nothing more. All sensitivity towards each other is gone. When either one of us lose, all we receive from the other is a pat on the back and an 'its okay'. Nothing like all of the couples. But Uriah and Amy are definitely the best example. At first, she doesn't even touch him, she just follows to whatever corner he's going to. And when he gets there, he freaks out; letting all of his unreleased anger out and venting loudly. All Amy has to do is lace a hand through his. He calms down at her touch, and it's the thing I envy the most. I want someone like that; someone that can calm me down with a simple touch. To balance out my anger with their levelheadedness, and my immaturity with their maturity. Blake and I aren't like that and I can't see us ever getting there. I just want someone to care for me... I've never had that before.

Paul's POV

"Paul, take care of Malik. I have stuff to do." Sam grumbles before walking off. I stare at the enraged teenager before me, surprised to say in the least. Malik and I were close friends up until he graduated. After we lost touch, and contact. Sam was mad at me for talking to him after I shifted, but being as pig-headed as I am, I continued to hang out with him. I knew he was always hanging out with a middle schooler, but didn't know her name. Turns out, it was none other than Sammy. And from my experience with the two of them, he's extremely over protective of her. I don't know why, as far as I know there's no reason whatsoever.

"So.. Uh.. Hey." He growls in response, an ugly scowl on his face. "How was your first time shifting?" I ask lamely. He scoffs, before spitting at the ground, "Better than yours." I take a deep breath, and try to calm my quickly rising anger, "Well seeing as how you didn't almost kill your baby sister, I would suppose it was." I sneer. "I'm not surprised." He grunts. Moving at my top speed, I snatch him up by his shirt, and slam him into the nearest tree. "Say one more thing about me, you pup! You just shifted, I could take you out with a blink of an eye. You have no control. You'll be gone." I growl, my eyes boring into his. He doesn't respond, and keeps his features calm. I throw him onto the ground, and storm out of the forest.

"So, where to next?" I look up, and see Malik next to me, picking leaves out of his hair. I scowl, I could barely see him, I was shaking so badly. "What the fuck do you think? Get your sorry ass away from me." I growl. He sends me a crooked grin, "I've heard worse." I growl in frustration. "I have no control." He scoffs. I send a punch into his jaw, and he flies a couple feet away, before shifting on the spot. "Obviously." I retort.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Paul, you're supposed to help him!" Sam yells frustratedly. I just continue to stare at my 'battle wound', a long cut on my arm. It was turning into a pink scar by now, and Malik's jaw was almost healed. I shrug, "Tell him to control that mouth of his and we'll be fine." I can feel his eyes staring at the side of my head, and I decide to let him just stare at me; I'm fucking beautiful.

"Just follow him around and make sure he doesn't kill anyone for the next week." He instructs. "Sam, I have school." I mutter, rolling my eyes. "Since when do you care about that?" He sneers. "Sam, I have a stupid imprint! I can't just skip!" I growl in frustration. "You imprinted?!" Malik asks. "Since when do you care about her?" Sam responds. "I don't!" I huff, sitting back in my chair. "What do you mean by stupid?" Emily asks quietly. I shrug, "She doesn't watch her mouth, about two thirds of the female population want to murder her, and she's constantly making it worse, she thinks her destiny in life is to wear sweats and Nike apparel, and she has the mouth of a sailor! She's young, dumb, naïve, and stupid!" I explode. "She sounds just like you! What's her name?" Malik asks happily. I turn towards Sam, and shake my head. "I swear to god, you tell him, it's gonna be World War Three." I whisper quickly and lowly. "What?" Malik asks.

I smile slightly, benefits of him being a new wolf. His brain is still unaccustomed to his superhuman hearing, so it doesn't process things as quiet as that quickly; it just gets jumbled. I send him a smirk, "Nothing."

He growls frustratedly and gets up, "I have to go." I shrug, and stand too, "Alright. Lets go." He shakes his head, "No. I'm going to my sisters house.. And you're staying here. Wouldn't want you imprint to suddenly transfer over to her." He remarks coldly. I choose to ignore that comment, "You don't have a sister." I say, searching his face for any sign of a lie. He shrugs, "She's like one." And then, he starts out of the door, with me right on his heels.

And you'll never guess where we ended up.

Sammy's house.

Malik walks in without knocking, and heads towards the kitchen. The house was huge, high ceilings, large kitchen, even bigger dining room, and two living rooms. One was more of a library with a fire place, and the other held a television and several different game counsels. Immediately into the door was a huge staircase, and you either walk forward into the kitchen, or left or right into the rooms previously described. It was built on the outskirts of town before I was born, and everyone still talks about who lives in it. I look up to see one out of the million brothers Sammy has, running down the stairs. They all attended Forks High, except the eldest one. Apparently they were pretty popular there, seeing as how half of the Forks population had crowded this house the other night.

"Hey, Lahote, what's up?" He asks with a smile. I shrug, "Not much." "You here to see Sammy?" I shake my head, glancing in the kitchen where Malik is, "No, I'm just here with Malik." He nods, "Good, because she's at a wrestling tournament. Come on in." Then, for the sake of being polite, I follow him into the kitchen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The door slams, and the sound rings for a couple minutes. I look over my shoulders, and see a flash of red before it disappears.

Sammy's home.

"How was your meet?" One of her brothers asks. "How was my meet?!" She yells, "How do you think it was?!" I walk into the room, and see her eldest brother, Eli, shrug. "I didn't do a fucking thing!" She screeches. "Language, sweetheart." Her mother says gently. "I didn't do a freaking fracking fluffing thing!" She says, gesturing wildly. Malik and I glance at each other, before he bursts into laughter. She picks up a pillow, and throws it at him. I raise my eyebrows at the speed that it flies through the air before nailing him in the face. "That's my girl." Her dad says without looking up from his book. She glances in his direction, a small smile playing onto her features, "Dad, I just said I didn't wrestle." He nods, "I know. But you've got quite the arm." I notice that she seems to like her father more than her mother, and watch as she crosses the room and sits down next to him.

She still hasn't even realized that I'm here.

"Coach tried to say that the only reason they wouldn't wrestle me is because they were scared. Do I look scary?" I press my lips together to keep the laughter from escaping, glancing down at my feet. "Maybe they've seen you wrestle before, Sam." Malik says as if its obvious. "Yeah, well I'm wrestling next time whether they want to or not."

I notice that she got back up, and while she was talking she made her way over to me, until she was standing less than a foot away. She pulls the bandage from earlier out of her pocket, and shoves her sprained hand towards me. "Can you fix it, please?" She asks calmly. "Why'd you take it off?" I question, and take the material from her hand. She shrugs, "I thought I was actually going to wrestle. There's no reason for them to think I'm injured." She says, and produces medical tape for her pocket. "But you are injured." I remind her. Her eyes fly up to mine, "And they have to know that why?" I smile slightly, and shake my head. I finish and start taping it, before casting her a suspicious glance, "Where did you get this?" She smirks, "My coaches bag." "Did you ask for it?" I question. "Of course!" She scoffs rolling her eyes. "Don't lie to me." I say seriously. "He won't miss it! Besides I needed it and I'm giving it back Monday." I doubtfully raise an eyebrow, "Sammy." She throws up her free hand, "You'll never know when you'll need medical tape!" I shake my head laughing, "You kleptomaniac." She scoffs, "You better watch out or else I'll take all of your stuff." She says, then sends me a playful wink. Yeah, I know she didn't even mean it like that. The thought probably didn't even cross her mind; but I'm blushing anyway.

"And I thought I was going to have to introduce you two." Malik growls. I slowly let go of Sammy's hand, and shrug, "I've got it covered." I can see him get angry, I just want to see his limits before he storms out of the house and shifts. But all he had to do was glance at Sammy, take several deep breaths, and leave the room. Sammy watches him leave, a confused look on her face, "Since when does he get angry so fast?" I shrug, "It's been happening all day." She rolls her eyes, and elbows me for apparently no reason, then starts towards the stairs.

I watch her go, then lean against the wall.

"Lahote! i was implying for you to follow me dumbass!" She screams, seconds after. I walk to the base of the stairs, arms crossed. I glare up at her, "You know, you can be a real bitch." A full grin appears on her face, and she laughs, "Just get your arse up here." She instructs, before turning and walking away.

I couldn't get the stupid grin off my face as I walked up the stairs and into her room. She was sitting on her bed, a ton of books in front of her. "Do you wanna help me?" She asks hopefully. I take a deep breath, "You want me... To help you?" I ask. She nods, "Yeah.. I can never focus in class, and I don't understand the reading." She explains. "I skipped the majority of freshman year." I protest. She rolls her eyes, "I don't give a fuck. Just help me!"

I sit down next to her, and start to read what she was looking at; biology. It was fairly simple and easy to understand. I looked to the questions, and easily find the answers. "Sammy, do you read this? All of the answers are in bold. I say flipping through a couple more pages. No answer comes and I look up. Sammy is staring at her lap, unmoving.

"Samantha." I demand. Her head flies up, a scowl on her face, "Don't call me that." I discard the comment, "Did you hear what I said?" I ask. She nods, "Something about the numbers." My eyebrows pull together, "What? Sammy, if we're really gonna do this, you gotta focus." I say gently. She nods, "I am, really."

After many of my attempts ending the same way, I get frustrated. "What the hell are you staring at?!" I yell. "You, I'm trying to focus on what you're saying." She says softly. "What? How does that make any sense?" I demand "Sorry," she murmurs, obviously ashamed, "I have ADHD and dyslexia." She admits quietly, "I'm just kinda like that.. Sorry. We don't have to do it. It's worthless anyway. It's never gonna work. My brain doesn't work. " She says, reaching to close the book in front of me.

I stop her by gently taking her chin in mine. "Don't say that." I murmur. "She shrugs, and starts to move away, "It's true-" "Sammy, everything about you is beautiful, and that includes your brain." I say determinedly. Her cheeks are painted scarlet, and she stares up at me, shocked. I plant a kiss on her forehead.

"We can do this." I say, taking a deep breath

Yeah its cutesy at the end XP

don't you adore their mood swings?