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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Dear Alex,

    𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋, 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 could be better would be an understatement. I am still not adjusting well at this new high school, and it's been two years. Normally I would have been invisible by now. I do exactly what you've always told me, keep my head down and eventually others won't know I am there. Everything is so much harder when you have people talking about you and making up lies. Usually I can ignore that, but it's hard when I am now linked to this supernatural family. Everything is so different.

    Edward appears to be obsessing over a new girl. He claims that it's nothing and that he wants to keep his distance but he makes no effort in doing so. One minute he wants to kill her and the next he's running to her aid like Superman, mindlessly acting like a fool because of some weird fixation he has with her.

    The only plus side to this whole move, I finally found a job where I can express myself through my one true love. Music. Sure, playing rehearsed songs with an orchestrated band at a fancy French restaurant isn't really expressing myself or broadening my horizons, but they are letting me play the violin, so it doesn't matter what songs we were playing really. Also, the people are very kind so it's not a miserable work experience.

    I've thought about talking to Carlisle and seeing if there was any possibility I could claim I was getting my GED and not return to the school. I don't know why I am struggling so much or finding it so hard to concentrate. It is like I am under a microscope and it triggers my anxiety. Maybe it could be all in my head and I am only imagining the stares because of how fidgety I am around the Cullens.

   The funny thing is that I think you'd actually really like them. You were always a people pleaser. You saw the good in everyone and always found the redeemable qualities in even the worst of people. I always thought I was like that too, but being with vampires, it has made me question myself in more ways than one. How can I live with people who I don't fully trust? Worst is, they have never given me a reason not to trust them. Does that make me a terrible person?

    I don't know, Alex. That promise I made to you is getting harder and harder to keep as the years go by. I miss you... so much that it pains me.

    Bridget paused her writing with a heavy sigh, lifting her head from her journal and towards the bright blue ocean. The heavy winds were picking up, making it harder for her to continue writing with the pages blowing, no matter how hard she fought to keep them down.

    First beach was her favorite place in all of Washington. She has always loved the beach, ever since she was a young girl. Being born in sunny Florida, beach days on the weekends were pretty much essential. Every time she would move somewhere, she'd always make sure they had a beach nearby. She would travel far if she had to in order to have a quiet day by the ocean. Beaches were familiar, and made her feel connected to her brother more than anything else.

    Alaska didn't have any beaches anywhere near where she was staying at the time, but they did have a park with a small lake that she used to pretend was a beach. Bridget has a strong feeling that she is going to be out of luck in the beach department if she continues her travels with the Cullens, seeing as they can't be in the sunlight so they pick the most dreary of towns. Not that they would burst into flames or die like legend claims, but it did affect them that would definitely expose them to the humans as unnatural beings.

    Bridget was grateful for this little beach she learned was near Forks. It was a very small Native American reservation known as La Push. She has been coming here every Friday just after school lets out (if it was not raining) and would stay there for hours. It was her only day off besides Sunday. She could stay at the beach all day either reading or writing in her journal.

    Bridget looked down at the light pink booklet. It was silly to keep a journal. At least she always thought so. But still, that did not stop her from doing so. She had started a few years before her brother had died and soon after, she started addressing her entries to him. It was less ridiculous in her mind than saying 'dear journal'. At least if she was talking to her brother, it was like he was still in her life. Like she was able to keep him updated on everything going on like she used to when he was alive if she wrote to him.

    The beach was the perfect place to do just that. Because even though thinking about her brother always felt like someone punched a hole in her chest, writing to him at their favorite place in the world was Bridget's idiotic way of pretending he was still with her.

    There weren't that many people on the beach. She has seen a couple locals walking in the distance, but none ever bothered her. She was alone for the most part. She was seated a bit closer to the ocean, not too close that water would reach her since it was still low tide.

    Bridget sat under the same beach towel she always brought with her and her feet buried in the sand. She was wearing a white flowy dress that reached just below her knees with a matching white throw. Her black flats were tucked into her backpack as well as her jean jacket. It wasn't that cold out so she did not see the need for it. Bridget quite enjoyed the cool breeze.

    Bridget looked back down at her journal entry and contemplated on writing more. She didn't really have much else to report. After the incident with the new girl- Bella, she should probably get used to saying her name because she has become a hot topic for the Cullens lately- things had only escalated. Despite Edward's claims, Bella was not letting what happened go. Bella- though did indeed keep her word about not telling anyone- was a very curious and persistent young lady.

    Bridget is curious if that was out of kindness or because she thinks people wouldn't believe her. Bridget sure as hell wouldn't believe her if she didn't know the truth and was well... normal.

    Bridget decided to end the entry and put it away, seeking her homework for school. She may have graduated high school eight times, she still liked the work she got to do. It was refreshing and oddly enjoyed the small challenge. She was halfway through her Calculus homework when a loud voice shouted from somewhere behind her.

    "What the hell are you doing here?"

    Bridget had been so surprised by the intensity and roughness of the tone that she jumped, causing her pencil to trail down her page, leaving a long mark over her work. Bridget turned her head to the sound of the hostile voice, brushing her blonde locks that the wind was blowing in her face away so she was able to get a better view of the figure now heading straight towards her. Frightened, Bridget climbed to her feet and turned towards the male who suddenly halted in his pursuit, his eyes trailing her entire figure, as if analyzing her appearance and features intensely.

     The once angered expression she had seen when she first looked upon him was not twisted into confusion. The male was only a few feet from her, but she was able to make out his character. He was shirtless, for starters. Only wearing a pair of black shorts and running shoes. He was a tall man, very tall indeed. About the same height as Emmett, and was nearly built as large, she compared. He had jet black hair chopped short and his skin was a familiar copper tone that she was used to seeing around this area. He was a native, then. Bridget knew little about the tribe on this beach, only their name. Quileute, she believes they were called.

    The man's tensed shoulders seemed to relax suddenly after a few seconds of looking her over and his head tilted slightly in confusion. Bridget just stood there, wondering what she had done to upset the man to make him yell at her in such a harsh, menacing way. After another moment of silence, Bridget found herself asking, "I beg your pardon?"

    Her question seemed to snap him out of whatever was running wild in his mind as he shook his head vigorously and took a couple steps closer towards her. "I'm so sorry, I thought... I thought you were someone else."

    "Well, whoever you thought I was, I'm sure as hell glad I am not them." Bridget said with an exasperated look.

    The Quileute man glimpsed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

    "It's alright. An honest mistake." Bridget brushed off and then gave a curious smile. "Mind me asking you exactly who you thought I was?"

    The man scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Uhh, hard to explain, honestly."

    Bridget noticed how he shifted on his feet and his face was a little peckish from the misunderstanding. "I get it. None of my business anyhow."

    Bridget was about to go back to her homework when he spoke up again. "Hey, have we met before?"

    The blonde looked over at the man curiously. That question had always frightened her, because she never knew if this could possibly be someone she knew in the past. But she forced herself to relax as reason came in. This man was clearly in his early twenties, too young to have known her in the past. Plus, she has never been to this reservation before, this was her first time in Washington after all. So he would have no way of connecting her to anything.

    So she thought logically and calmly. "Umm, I don't believe so. Unless you go to Forks High School, or if you've eaten at Setaara's seeing as I work there? Otherwise I don't think you would know me from anywhere."

    "I guess not," the Quileute man muttered, still a bit disoriented from who he thought she was. He did his best to change the subject. "Setaara's restaurant down in Port Angeles?"

    Bridget nodded. "Yes. Have you been?"

    The man shook his head. "I wish. Always wanted to take my fiancé there for date night but it's way too expensive."

    "I suppose it is."

    The man suddenly shook his head. "Again, I am sorry for disturbing you. I'll let you get back to whatever it is you were doing."

    The blonde nodded and the man made his way back to where had come from. It looked like he had been on a jog or something, because he wasn't heading towards the lot to get his car, but instead the woods.

    Something suddenly clicked in Bridget's mind and she grabbed her bag, pulling out what she was looking for and then calling out to the man. "Hey, wait!"

    The man stopped and turned, only to see the blonde jogging towards him. If he was surprised by her choice of outfit like most people are, he did not show it. Once Bridget was before him, she opened her wallet and fished out what she was looking for before handing him the folded piece of paper. "Uh, here."

    The man frowned, taking the paper hesitantly from her grasps. "What's this?"

    This time, it was Bridget's turn to turn a bit red in the cheeks at the awkwardness but managed to clear her throat enough to explain. "It's a free dinner voucher for Setaara's. They give it to every new employee who's been there for more than a year so their family can come enjoy a free night."

    "And you are giving this to me?" The man questioned in bewilderment. All Bridget could do was nod, not sure what else to say as she watched him unfold the voucher and read the words himself. Once he was done, his brown eyes lifted backup to hers and handed the paper back towards her. "This is very generous but I can't accept this."

    "Please take it." Bridget insisted, not making a move to take it back. "It has literally been sitting in my wallet since I got it. I have no use for it."

    He just blinked up at her in surprise. "No family or friends you want to save this for?"

    Bridget felt her heart sink from his words but did her best to hide the pain in her eyes. "No. Please, I insist."

    "Well-" he paused, realizing he doesn't know her name.

    "Bridget Clark." Oh, how she hates using her fake surname.

    "Well, Bridget," he nodded, a smile now forming on his once hardened expression. "This is probably the nicest thing a stranger has ever done for me. Thank you. I'm Sam Uley."

    Bridget watched as he held out his hand and she hesitated for a second before taking it, shaking it firmly and smiled sweetly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sam. And you're welcome. I hope you and your fiancé enjoy it."

    "Trust me, I think she might faint when I tell her."

    The blonde couldn't help but giggle. "Make sure to catch her if she does. I should probably go get my homework before the tide changes and carries it out to sea."

    The two parted ways, Bridget heading back to her homework while Sam remained where he was, watching her go. He could have sworn he smelled the familiar scent of one of the Cullens. He has their stench memories since the moment he shifted and came to reality of what he was. And during patrol, he got close to the beach where he smelled it. It was faint but it was there. He sprinted to the beach after shifting to check it out, thinking the treaty had been broken. It was coming from one of the only people on the beach and he was seconds away from shifting out in the open, not caring if there were any civilians lurking about.

    But as he got closer and she turned around, the scent suddenly changed and he realized his mistake, especially while looking at her. She was definitely human, there was no question about it. But why the hell does she carry around a brief scent of a leech?

><><><

    𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐍 and Bridget was at her second favorite place in Washington. The public library.

    This was a second job of sorts, but she only worked one day a week and the pay wasn't great, but she didn't mind. She would have been happy for a volunteer position if it meant she was surprised and taking care of books. But Martha Claw, one of the librarians, had talked her into a paid gig.

    She was a very kind woman. Mid-forties with beautiful chestnut hair and matching eyes. She was very spirited and a caffeine addict. Everytime Bridget saw the woman, she had a coffee cup in her hand. Martha even sends Bridget on a coffee run at least twice in one day when she runs out. She doesn't think she has ever seen someone so addicted to the beverage before.

    Bridget does not care too much for the taste of coffee in general, but she can handle a frappuccino here and there. If she couldn't taste the coffee, then she was happy.

    Martha was exceptionally surprised to see Bridget waltzing through the door a couple years ago, offering her assistance and taking a general interest in books and the care that goes into handling them. It warmed the older woman's heart to see such a young youth take an interest in literature like she has, where she has expressed many times that her own children do not, and one of them was Bridget's age.

    Bridget always found it weird when people would remind her of her age. Stuck as a seventeen year old for eternity it seems like. Sixty-four years since she has stopped aging and it still is hard to get used to.

    Martha was one of four librarians, but the other women were much older than Martha and nowhere near as talkative and hyper as she was. The woman always seemed to talk her ear off and for some reason, Bridget did not mind at all. She enjoyed Martha's carefree and wild personality. And even though Bridget hardly spoke, Martha definitely did enough of that for the both of them.

    Right now, the two were in the back of the library labeling the new arrivals they received on Friday before they were to put them in the correct spots and logging where they were filed so it can be put in the computer later on. Martha was going on about her children, about how her youngest was in another fight with the same bully who won't leave him alone.

    "It's not like I can be angry at Gavin for defending himself. But it's hard when witnesses claim that he is the one who started things. The damn principal is looking at me as if I am a bad mother and it took everything in me not to punch that woman square in the mouth the other day," Martha rambled on, sticking another label on the book cover before gasping loudly, her wide brown eyes turning towards the blonde. "Oh no! No wonder why Gavin is so violent! His mother has anger issues."

    Bridget could stop the chuckle that escaped her lips. "You do not have anger issues, Martha. Any mother would think the same if someone was judging their parenting."

    "So I should have hit her?"

    Bridget shook her head. "That would have only caused more problems than solutions. I'm just saying, your thoughts are understandable."

    "That's good to hear," Martha says. "My husband always says I'm crazy, but that he loves my craziness. I keep our marriage real."

    Bridget did not respond but smiled in amusement. This woman was something else. Very entertaining.

    "You would think my oldest would be the troublemaker, but no. He is the picture perfect, straight A student. Smart as a wipe and is looking at a full ride to Harvard University."

    "That's impressive." Bridget had to admit.

    Martha grinned. "It is, isn't it? Oh, he's already a senior, I'm not ready to let go of my baby just yet."

    "You know, Martha, I don't think I've ever seen your son at school." Bridget mentions, recalling how she says she has three in high school and two in middle. "In fact, I don't think I've seen any of your kids."

    "Oh, that's because they go to school on the reservation."

    Bridget lifted her head from her pile towards the older woman. "They do? But I thought you lived in Forks?"

    "We do, but only because our old house on La Push was too small and with five kids, we needed more space." Martha explained, brushing her long hair away over her shoulder. "But my husband is Quileute-born and wanted our kids to go to school where he went. It's alright, as long as the principal approves and lucky for us, that happens to be my brother-in-law."

    Bridget let her words sink in for a moment, remembering last year when she had inquired about the school at La Push and wondered if switching schools would be a good idea. She brought the idea up to Carlisle and he sadly turned her down, saying that because she does not live within the school district, she could not attend. But maybe if she had someone to pull a few strings...

    No. She can't ask Martha to do that. They weren't friends, just colleagues that talk one day a week. Well, more like Martha does most of the talking meanwhile Bridget listened carefully, inputting her opinion there and there.

    But the thought of escaping Forks High School was more pleasing as the day went on. Martha went onto a different topic, Bridget not even paying attention to what she was rambling on about now and was contemplating the thought of asking her. There wouldn't be any harm. If she said no, then it was a no. But it was awkward and maybe unprofessional? Martha had connections she said, she could talk with her brother-in-law who apparently is the principal. He could overlook the fact that she lives in Forks and allow her to transfer if he learns she was unsettled at the school she currently was attending.

    By the end of the day, once they went their separate ways to shelve the books and log them, Bridget decided there was no harm in simply just asking. It was hard because she did not like asking for favors, but in a way, she was desperate. The thought of not attending the same school as the Cullens and the thought of not having everyone talking about you constantly because you were associated with them was a huge relief. At a new school, she can do what she always has done. Keep her head down and wait out the days until it was time for them to relocate.

    Once she was finished with her sections and it was time to close up, Bridget grabbed her things and her jacket before meeting Martha up at the front counter where she was entering the records into the computer. The woman looked up and smiled at the blonde fondly. "Have a good night, Bridget. I'll see you next Sunday."

    "Actually, before I go, I was wondering if I could ask you something?"

    Martha looked up from the computer, her thin framed glasses over the bridge of her nose. "Of course you can, sweetheart. What's up?"

    Bridget shifted uncomfortably and took a deep breath. She does not understand why she was so nervous. After a second, she forced herself to speak. "Do you think it's possible for a student to transfer to La Push while still living in Forks?"

    Martha thought for a second before answering. "I'm not sure, honestly. Probably, depends on the circumstances. Why do you ask?"

    Here goes nothing.

    "I'm not handling myself well at Forks High. The other students there, well, let's just say they have a bad habit of gossiping and harassing me. It's not too serious, just silly rumors and teasing but I hate the attention. I always have, it gets me worked up. I was wondering if it's possible, only if you are willing, if you could maybe talk to your brother-in-law and see if he could make an exception for me to transfer to La Push High?"

    Martha stared up at her for the longest time. So long that Bridget was prepared for the rejection. That is until a warm smile spread over the woman's features. "Of course I will talk to him."

    Bridget was surprised by how easily she agreed. "Really?"

    Martha nods. "Of course. No one should feel so uncomfortable at their high school. Jude has zero tolerance for harassment and bullying, so I know he will be willing to consider. I shall talk to him tonight."

    Bridget blinked once, then twice before shaking her head out of her shocked state and nodded. "Thank you, Martha. This is very kind of you."

    "Oh, sweetie, it is no trouble! I shall call you when with his answer. But he will most likely need to talk to your parents."

    "I'm emancipated."

    Martha seemed shocked by the revelation and Bridget didn't blame her. She hardly told the woman anything about herself. She could see the questions forming on Martha's lips, but Bridget did not want to get into it and interrupted. "I have the papers from the Court if he needs to see them. And I can bring my own transfer papers if he agrees."

    Sure the papers were forged courtesy of Jasper. Where he was able to find someone to do that was beyond her. Bridget thought better not to question it.

    Martha nods, understanding her wish not to speak of it and forces her burning questions down. Bridget knew how hard that must have been for her and was grateful for her restraint. Bridget left the library with hope in her heart and made her way back to the house, so grateful her car was fixed yesterday and she no longer had to rely on Rosalie's.

    After parking her station wagon in the garage space they insist she use, Bridget barely made it through the door when Alice appeared in front of her with wide eyes. "You're transferring schools?"

    Bridget was so stunned she couldn't form words, until she realized that by her asking Martha to do this set off her future course which Alice clearly saw, which confirmed that Martha's brother-in-law most likely is going to agree to her transfer request and she couldn't be happy about it because now she had to explain it to the Cullens sooner than she would have liked.

Did Bridget mention how much she hated vampire special abilities?

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I loved Bridget and Sam's first meeting! The chapter was a bit slow so sorry no Paul yet. He won't show up until either the next chapter or the fourth.

Martha isn't a big character but she does appear and she is wild. Love her!

Hope you all enjoyed!!!