note: i had already put trigger warnings on this but some people are all dumb and they don't read it and when I put triggering shit on any of my stories ppl come at me & messaging me like that chapter made me uncomfortable and like im sorry but like read! ive put warnings and this book is mature so like caution ok, fuck. on with it.

『 CHAPTER viii: MODERN VAN GOGH. 』

JUNE SWAN FELT LIKE SHE WAS LOSING her damn mind. Her room smelled of paint, various cans and paint brushes scattered her bedroom floor as the open window blew in the spring time smell from outside, which, for Forks, was nothing but mist from the morning rain. Patrick Verona was asleep on her bed, already accustomed to his new home. June didn't want to even look her dad and sister in the eye when she got home after visiting the Reservation. June knew her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, they'd hound her with questions she didn't have the strength to answer. June only kept hearing her grandmother's words over and over, sooner than I thought, and the taunting voice in June's head only seemed to get louder and cackle in her ear, June's going soon. June's going soon. June's going— She was feeling particularly tortured and solemn and the music that blared through her vinyl player wasn't the usual soft coffee house tunes but bordering nirvana level, maybe even the hollies and the moody blues came out at times and had June ripping up new canvases and tossing paint on them.

Charlie had let her and Bella stay home from school, her face convincing him she did have a flu; but Bella and she would be leaving for La Push in a bit with their friends. June knew she had to be okay by then.

But she wasn't okay now. June screamed in her pillow, crying, crying and crying and repeating when one particular song lyric struck a cord in her. Now you know that you are real ... Patrick Verona whined when June got up and tossed more paint on the painting of the forest with glowing eyes staring at her through each crack in the brush. She watched as the paint, red as the eyes she colored, stained her hands. June stared at it, crying, knowing that she'd see this picture soon. When she was dead, with her heart in her hands, blood staining the olive tones of her skin. ... I'm going out of my mind with these nightmares I see every time I close my eyes, June told herself as Patrick Verona jumped from her bed and went over to where she was huddled in the corner of her room. He licked her tear stained cheeks, June sniffles and holds her dog close. My room smells like paint from the amount of drawings I've been doing, and my bruise is gone ... no thanks to the pills grandma gave me.

June had never understood Vincent Van Gogh more in this moment; she felt like mutilating her ear too, she felt like dying more than anything, too. She didn't feel safe in her own skin anymore. June, like Van Gogh, worried about her mental stability, too; her grandmother said she was dying sooner than she had thought but June's only fear, wasn't death itself, but the state she'd be in when she'd be that eternally dead teen girl — was this the calm before the storm? Was this her punishment? Would her death be by her own hands if she couldn't take the horrific nightmares anymore and the strange glowing of her palms and her ability to bring plants to life? June could see herself terminally depressed, more so, ending her life with a revolver too, just like her dad keeps in his room ... the relief she found in that scenario was the most terrifying thing.

A knock at her door startled her and she jumped a bit, Patrick barking before the person behind her door said, "Junie? Can I come in?"

"Going," June shouted back, standing up shakily, getting the last bit of her tears out and rubbing her paint stained hands on her ripped painter jeans. June walked over to the door, opening it. "What's up?"

Bella came in, her eyes going to the vast paintings that her younger sister had hung up on her walls and even had some drawings on the wall here and there — Bella stared in awe at the ceiling that had glow in the dark stars, stuck on the large recreation of Van Gogh's Starry Night. Bella had never seen June's paintings before, not really, nor had she been into her room. The warning sign outside her door was enough. Bella also noticed the ruined paintings and the ones of wolfish eyes in a forest while red paint splattered over it.

"I love your room," Bella says, her lips parted in slight awe as she looks around more. "Honestly, June ... you're literally an amazing artist."

June shrugs, smiling falsely, "I'm no Claude Monet or Frida Kahlo ... but I guess I can make some pretty spiffy stuff."

"Spiffy?" Bella was baffled by her sisters extreme understatement. She picked up a small watercolor painting of a bellflower June had did two years ago. "This belongs in a museum, near the Mona Lisa, where everyone can see it—"

"That's nice," June hums. "I'm glad you like them, because ..." She drawled and decided now was as good as time as any to give Bella her gift, she had finally finished it. "I made this for you. It's Arizona — desert life, I call it: Parched and Pretty."

Bella took a look at the painting that June held in front of her in utter awe. It was almost exactly like the view from the cul de sac that Bella used to live in. The desert was beautiful and dangerous and the moon hanging in the night time almost gave the same feel of life as a sun would've done in this instance. Bella ran her finger over the painting and smiled fondly, looking up at June who is waiting for her reaction with guarded eyes.

    "I love it," Bella gasped tenderly, tears welling in her eyes as she set the paint down and pulled June into a tight hug. "I love you, June. Thank you."

June breathed in Bella's lavender scent, trying her hardest to not cry into her shoulder, "Love you more, Bella." She stayed like that for few moments before she pulled away and put on the perfect facade. "What time did Mike and all them want to meet at La Push?"

"In half an hour, Jess just texted." Bella replies smoothly, sitting on the edge of her bed and petting Patrick Verona as he jumps on the bed again. "Oh, by the way, I forgot to ask—how was the visit to the Rez? How'd you get this cutie back so easily?"

If only it had been so easy. I never should've gone, June had thought the whole walk home. I never should've gone, never, ever, never—But there was a nagging reminder that her visit hadn't been all bad. She had Jacob there, and the thought of him and his smile had encompassed the bad part of that visit as a whole.

June smiles a bit, "I had another cutie helping me."

"Does this cutie have a name?" Bella asks but realization falls over her pale features and she grins widely. "No way! Jacob helped you commit a crime? Aw, June, he's so in love!"

      June rolls her eyes, blushing a bit and letting the dulling pain in her heart try to ease away, "He's not in love with me, he's just really nice and agreed to commit a robbery for me to steal back my dog." June tries to reason. "Totally platonic."

Bella was unconvinced, "Oh my god, you're like, so in love too!" She exclaimed. "Dad will be so happy about this, I'm convinced Billy and he have secretly been rooting for you two since y'all were young—"

"It's not happening, Bella." June snaps, watching her sisters face blink in surprise. She sighs, running her hand through her hair as she sat down next to her. "Sorry. Sorry, I just ... I don't know. Sorry."

Bella shakes her head, "It's fine. I won't press it—"

"It's not that," June assures. Because that isn't it. It's the constant reminder of what won't ever happen. "I telling you, something been up with me lately. Like weird stuff. I never should've visited my grandma."

      Bella frowns then, a fierce look set in her earthy irises. "Did she say something to you?"

A lot, but I won't tell you that. "Not really, she just had some stuff to say about my mom coming back soon and how it wouldn't last," June lied through her teeth easily. "I went over there for an armistice and I came out with a scar. I never win with her, she's impossible."

"Maybe you shouldn't go over there anymore," Bella bit her lip, her voice firmer. "I can tell it really bothers you, whatever she said. I don't like to see you worrying over things you can't control."

That just so happened to be June's biggest and most trusted occupation; worrying over things she couldn't possibly control. 

         June smiles at her sister. She hugs her without a word and holds her close. She can feel Bella hug her tighter and June's eyes begin to well up with tears, "I don't know what I was doing before you got here, Bella." June tells her earnestly.

Her older sister pulls away to meet her eyes. Bella's smile is so pretty, June knows she'll dread the last day she'll ever get to see it. "Me either," Bella chimes. "I just ... was. You know? It's comforting knowing you're here for me. And I'm here for you, you know that right?"

       June nods firmly, "Yeah, Bella, I know."

Her sisters smile is promising. Her eyes look down though, "Oh, I also forgot," She shuts her eyes as if she remembered just then. "I had invited Edward to the beach with us. But he bailed, he said he came down with something."

     June's eyes dazzled, "Inviting him places are we?"

Bella blushed, "Just to be nice, he's the one who said he wanted to be friends with me, I thought I'd be a good idea."

"Oh, it was a fan-fucking-tasic idea," June winked, pulling over that facade as easily as she could rip it off. The one of happiness. "Maybe you can stop with your little theories on their weirdness and finally like, ya know, make a move. Not all guys are fans of conspiracists, unfortunately. I'm all over that shit — like, Area 51 and that sad excuse of a moon landing."

   Bella rolled her eyes playfully, "I don't mean it to be a conspiracist, I just wanted the truth."

"And he gave it to you. An adrenaline rush."

"Supposedly."

"Most likely."

"Not entirely."

June laughed, "For god sake, Bella! What do you want to know? They're like the Incredibles or something?"

Bella raised her brows, "Considering the way he stopped Tyler's van with his own hand! Yeah, I think something along those lines are good."

               June went over to her desk and grabbed some towelettes and cleaned her hands from the dried paint and tossed it in the bin. "Well, he bailed, you said? Bummer. I asked Rosalie, too. But she said she wasn't for beaches. Me either. I hate sand between my asscheeks, but hey, skipping school is my cup of tea."

Bella sputters into a laugh at her words, standing up and clapping her thighs as she chuckles still. June grins and Bella goes over to her door, "Get ready, dork. They should be here soon."

June gave mock look of offense, "I'm the dork?!"

Bella winked and shut the door. June scoffs playfully. She looks to Patrick Verona who looks at her from her bed. He gives her that look, you're a dork but your my dork. Romanization of death and night terrors and all. June nodded to herself, glancing to the mirror and staring at the wild blues that clashed in her irises in the lighting of her room — cupping her ear with her hand, hiding it behind her hair and exposing the other ear, she stared at herself again. Hmm. She thought she'd look pretty damn good with one ear. But then she realized, quite numbly, it wouldn't matter what she'd look like. Death would take her as the prettiest doll or the most gnarled giant, no matter how hard she'd try to meet the fate of a painter who's mental health had been the end of him.

•—•—•—•

LA PUSH WAS AS BEAUTIFUL AS IT ALWAYS had been. It was only fifteen miles to La Push from Forks, with gorgeous, dense green forests edging the road most of the way and the wide Quillayute River snaking beneath it twice. June was happy that Mike let her have the window seat in his truck. It was still breathtaking. The water was dark gray, even in the sunlight, white-capped and heaving to the gray, rocky shore. Islands rose out of the steel harbor waters with sheer cliff sides, reaching to uneven summits, and crowned with austere, soaring firs. The beach had only a thin border of actual sand at the water's edge, after which it grew into millions of large, smooth stones that looked uniformly gray from a distance, but close up were every shade a stone could be: terra-cotta, sea green, lavender, blue gray, dull gold. The tide line was strewn with huge driftwood trees, bleached bone white in the salt waves, some piled together against the edge of the forest fringe, some lying solitary, just out of reach of the waves.

           The La Push beach was a sort of trademark of the Quileute Reservation for generations and the beauty was immortal it seemed; June could remember, from when she was a toddling toddler, her parents bringing her down here and letting her run on chubby legs as she thought the water chased her on shore. Occasionally, she'd fall, but consistently, her mom or dad had always been there to pick her up. June had to only close her eyes to smell the salty sea and the icy air to reminder what being picked up and kissed on the cheek by her mother felt like, what the scene would've looked like from the outside — Daphne's soft hands trying to pat down her wild blonde curls, Charlie laughing with love in his eyes as he dusted her back off from the sand that clung to her. People would smile and think what a beautiful family, when they'd see Daphne, russet skinned and blue eyed and having a warmth about her and Charlie, curly-haired and fair skinned, holding a baby girl who's finger they were wrapped around; their child with skin tone that is a perfect combination of her parents, bright blue irises she inherited from her lovely mother and wild curls from her doting father.

               June felt a rocket of emotion rock her, she reached down to touch the sand, she needs to know it was real. That her life was good and it had been before she was told she was meant to die — June had never understood Daphne more in that moment. June saw what her mother thought of: the squealing little girl with diamonds for eyes who thought the waves were chasing her, who's little laugh was so infectious, almost as endearing as the sloppy kisses she gave. When June Swan was told she was going to die, all Daphne Uley saw was her daughter, the little one on the beach, so full of life and almost surreal — dead.

June watched the waves a bit longer before she went back to the van where Bella and Angela sat and drank hot chocolate and ate Twizzlers. She had brought Patrick Verona with her, he poked his head out from the van and she went to pet him.

        Bella must've saw her expression because she said, "Feeling good, Junie?" She asked when June sat beside her.

June nodded, giving a closed lip smile. "Great." Then she rested her head on Bella's shoulder, Patrick licking her cheek.

"Soooo," Angela began talking, resting her own head on the handle of the van. "I keep thinking Eric is going to ask me to prom and he just, doesn't."

"Then you ask him." June frowned. "It's lady's choice anyway, and you've chosen."

"Exactly," Bella helped her. "Take control. You're a strong, independent woman."

"Girls supporting other girls. My kink." June beamed and hugged Patrick, scratching behind his ear. Angela grinned. "No, but yeah, you ask him. If he says no, that's a major bummer sure but he isn't the only pasty journalism member in Forks High. Plus, you're hot — so, it won't be hard to snag someone else."

      Angela giggles, "Thank you, June. You're hot, too."

"No, I'm not." Bella shook her head, eyes bewildered.

"I've been told," June drawled simultaneously, bored. "By an entire football team this weekend. Yay. It's cemented in my mind, they think their compliment won't make me look in the mirror for assurance ever again."

         Before Angela can reply, Jessica comes up, "Hey, zip me up." She tells the bespectacled girl.

Then in the corner of her eye, she sees some figures walk by where they're parked and her eyes widened to see that's it's boys from the Reservation. More specifically, Embry and Jacob. The second boy makes her heart feel as fluttery as it had been when he helped her in her crime to steal her dog back. As if recognizing him, Patrick Verona in question barks and jumped from the van and rushed up to Jacob, yipping and jumping up with a wagging tail, only to come back to June and then back to Jacob.

"Even the dog knows," Bella whispers to her.

"Shut up," June hisses back playfully, hearing Bella snicker.

              June stands up, "Jacob." She greets in front of everyone, her voice airy and bright.

Jacob looks up and she couldn't notice the inaudible release of content his breathing makes, "Ocean eyes."

Everyone there, Mike, Eric, Jessica, Lauren and Tyler and Lee and Angela and Bella all stare at them. It's clear the way the younger kids look at each other, there's that content in their own view. Mike clears his throat and June snaps out of her gaze, hoping she isn't red on her cheeks or her neck or anywhere her thick windbreaker and beanie isn't covering. Along the way, Sam came into view with Jared flanking his side and June blinked in surprise but before she could get herself out the temporary paralysis from their presence, a sickly annoying voice sounded out that made June grind her teeth.

"You know June, Jacob?" Lauren asked — in what she could only take as an insolent tone — from where she pulled on her water-shoes.

Jacob nods, smiling at June again, "Yeah, since we were born, sorta."

"I lived on the Reservation when I was little, my moms Quileute and Sam's my cousin," June answers with a duh tone, gesturing to Sam who Lauren takes note of and the others greet. "Plus, I was born there."

Lauren coiled, "How nice." It sound like she thought it was nice at all, her pale and fishy eyes narrowed in some sort of dissatisfaction. "Friends from here and family on the Rez — aren't you so important? I mean, didn't Bella and you invite the Cullen's here today; since you're all, like, friends now?" 

               Jacob didn't seem to notice the tension until Sam spoke up, his eyes on June who was stiff as a rod as she noticed Bella glaring at Lauren, "The Cullen's?" Sam echoed, turning to June with a dark look. "You invited them here?"

"They didn't come," Bella defended quickly.

"They are our friends besides." June also piped up, looking at Sam with narrowed eyes. "So what if we invited them?"

   Sam sputters, "So what?"

"I think it's nice they invited them," Angela, ever the Saint, speaks up and interrupts the fight she senses and says to them, "No one ever does."

"Because the Cullen's are freaks, Ang." Mike retorted angrily, frustrated for some reason as he pulled on his surfing suit.

    "You got that right," Jared scoffed out and cackled, earning a smirk from most of them there.

"You don't even know them," June retorted icily as Patrick Verona growled lowly, ready to defend his owner for any reason.

"The Cullen's don't come here, June." Sam told her with a voice of finality.

"You really gotta stop listening to those fireplace stories grandma rambles on about." June says, annoyed.

"And you should start." Sam replies gruffly, turning to leave without giving her a look back — Jared following after him with a wince at June.

          She stared after her cousin, taken aback by the way he was looking away toward the dark forest behind them all. He'd said that the Cullens didn't come to La Push, and she had always knew they had some grudge on them for some reason, but his tone had implied something more — that they weren't allowed; they were prohibited. His manner left a strange impression on June and by the look on her sisters face, Bella as well, and the Swan sisters  tried to ignore it without success. Luckily, everyone goes back to doing their own thing after Sam's mini fit. Tyler hollers before he and Lauren and Eric are rushing out to the water with Jessica and Mike and Lee following after them. Someone calls Embry's name and June can hear it might be Quil's voice and he gives them a quick farewell before he's off.

"Hey Bella, how's the truck running?" Jacob asks her sister, who beams at him for her sister.

    Bella nods with smile, "Oh, fantastic." She offers him some Twizzlers. She gives June a mischievous look then says, "June here really loves it too, don't you sis?"

June glares in the second the boys aren't staring at her, smiling after they look at her. "Sure do. Knew it had to be Jacob fixed it — how could it run smooth otherwise?"

   Embry and Bella ate their candy with knowing looks as Jacob reddened, "I wouldn't go over sixty though. It's pretty slow, my fault."

"Bella shouldn't be speeding anyway," June objected with a grin. "But you have to give it some credit, it does great with being in collisions." She eyes Bella suggestively who laughs a bit. "Ask Bella."

          Jacob nods, grinning too. "I don't think a tank could take that old beast out."

"So, Jacob," Bella chimes. "How're your sisters? Rachel and Rebecca? I haven't seem them yet."

"They don't live here anymore," Jacob informs with a hint of solemnity in his eyes. "Rachel got a scholarship to Washington State and Rebecca married a Samoan surfer — she lives in Hawaii, now."

"Married?" Bella blinks in surprise, and June knows the feeling because when she heard and the entire Reservation heard, they knew it was a cause for stirring; Rebecca was only nineteen. "But living in Hawaii, that's cool. So you're like, what now, fifteen? Like June?"

Jacob nods, "Just turned fifteen a few months ago."

"Nice," Bella says.

June knows what Bella's doing and wants to roll her eyes at her sisters antics. Bella wants answers, she's curious about what Sam said but June could care less what the Elder's of the Tribe preach about with their prejudices and whatnot.

"Wanna walk with me?" June asks Jacob, her eyes on his.  Jacob nods eagerly, rushing to her side. June looks back at Patrick, "Come on boy."

    Her dog barks happily and follows, loyally by her side and kicking Jacob's hand. He grins down at her dog, picking up a stick on the ground and tossing it a good distance while Patrick runs after it, bringing it back quickly in his mouth. Jacob does so again and they begin walking.

"Mind if I come?" Bella says, much to both of their irritation but Jacobs obviously nicer and doesn't show it as much as June does. They walk for a short distance before she speaks, "What did Sam mean by The Cullen's don't come here, June?"

   "It's some stupid story," June says quickly, frustrated that Sam would further the curiosity in her sister. "The kind the Rez parents tell their kids to scare them when they misbehave and stuff — Sam's dramatic anyway."

"We're not really supposed to say anything anyway," Jacob says, looking at Bella with a shrug.

"I can keep a secret," Bella says and then whines a bit making her younger sister laugh. "June! I'm your sister, rules don't apply to me—"

"Really, Bella, it's just some old scary story." Jacob says, helping June in trying to pacify Bella. "Basically they're legends, Quileute legends, dating back to the flood, how our ancestors tied their canoes to the tops of trees to survive."

          "Oh, tell her about the scary ones. The ones where the Spirits took pity on the Quileutes and made us descendants of wolves," June tried to make her voice sound sorta eerily and giggled. "And that wolves are our brothers, it's tribe law to not hunt them. Ooooh, and let's not forget my favorite: the Cold Ones." She nudged Jacob.

"The cold ones?" Bella repeated.

             "There are stories of the cold ones as old as the wolf legends, and some much more recent. According to legend, my own great-grandfather and my great-uncle knew some of them. He was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our land." Jacob rolled his eyes, to show his disbelief.

"Your great-uncle?" Bella encouraged.

"He was a tribal elder, like my father. Brother to my great-grandfather, Gideon Black. But my great-uncle was named Ephraim Black. Gideon took over as Chief after his brother died. You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf—well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors."

"Like werewolves," June wiggles her brows.

"Werewolves have enemies?" Bella seems genuinely interested.

"Only one. So you see," Jacob continued, "The cold ones are traditionally our enemies. But this pack that came to our territory during my great-uncles' time was different. They didn't hunt the way others of their kind did — they weren't supposed to be dangerous to the tribe. So my great-uncle made a truce with them. If they would promise to stay off our lands, we wouldn't expose them to the pale-faces."

Jacob gave Bella a pointed look and she feigned a offended look.  "If they weren't dangerous, then why... ?" Bella tried to understand.

"There's always a risk for humans to be around the cold ones, even if they're civilized like this clan was. You never know when they might get too hungry to resist." He deliberately worked a thick edge of menace into his tone, jokingly.

"How does it fit in with the Cullens?"

"There's bad blood," June decides to say, remembering the stories now. "Apparently the Cullen's like, supposedly stole something belonging to the tribe leader at that time. I don't remember much."

     "Stole something?" Bella echoes.

"No one knows what." Jacob says.

Bella then blinks, meeting Jacobs eyes as she says, "So apparently the Cullen's are like the kind of cold ones your great-grandfather met?"

         "No." He paused dramatically, winking to June who grinned. "They are the same ones."

"DUN-DUN-DUNNNN!" June boomed with a cackle, Jacob giving her an endearing smile.

       "And what are they?" Bella was desperate to know, June could hear it. "What are the cold ones?"

June and Jacob smiled darkly at her. "Blood drinkers," Jacob replied eerily as June tried to make hers sound. "Your people call them vampires."

Bella kinda stiffened, looking at the waves. June took over the talking then, "It's just one big pile of crap, anyway. Like I'm saying, scary stories and stuff."

Her sister nodded, her face in deep contemplation and June was wondering why Bella looked so convicted by the stories—June's thoughts were interrupted by Bella jolting suddenly when a phone rang. Bella shoved her hand in her back pocket and pulled out the cell and sighed, showing the caller ID. It was their dad. Bella looked at her one more time before she said goodbye to Jacob and began to walk back to where the van was parked, answering the phone and her voice fading the further she got.

"I think we just violated the treaty," Jacob laughed with a mocking wince, nudging June as he rubbed Patrick's fur, her dog licking his hand again.

     "I love being rebels," June grinned then giggles as she gestures down to her dog. "It's not the first time you've broken the rules anyway, Black."

"I find myself doing that a lot around you." Jacob says, his voice husky and pleasant.

June blushes; feeling a drop of rain. "Get used to it."

"I think I already have." Jacob says back, his eyes such a beautiful color of toffee.

June is entranced but she's jolted as well when she hears a voice call out her name. Mikes jogging towards them, waving his hand. "June! Hey," Mike calls out in relief as if he had been looking for her. He eyes Jacob warily, then smiles at her with his starry filled gaze. "There you are."

"Boyfriend?" Jacob asks lowly before Mike gets to them, his eyes hard.

June blows out a breath and laughs, "Definitely not. Worse. Ex." She replies back in just as low of a whisper.

       Mike reaches them, "We're heading out. Looks like it's going to rain. Ready?" He tells her and his voice sounds like he isn't asking but telling but he is her only ride.

Reluctantly, she nods. June turns to Jacob who looks a little sullen and pulls him into a tight hug and guys on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll see you around, handsome. I promised, didn't I?" She laughs a little at his expression. She wouldn't get tired of it. "Bye!" Patrick Verona runs to the van and she follows after him, Mike right behind.

            June thinks of Jacob's expression, his toffee colored eyes wide and his perfect russet skin tinged pink and the way the smooth skin felt under the quick press of lips to it. It's him, she realizes. He makes her happy. So happy she forgets she was just crying in her pillow and feeling like she wanted to die. It's him, she realizes, terrifyingly. It's him. He makes her want to live. But she wants ... she had to fulfill her fate, it was written. It wasn't going to change. But he made her really happy and she wondered if she was selfish for using that happiness, by extension, him, for the time being while her heart still pumped and her lungs still took in air. Leave it to her glowing palms as she gets home to ruin any happy thought she had, sucking her back into the cycle of tossing paint on a blank canvas. Van Gogh, await me at home, June thinks to herself as she steps back from her painting and sees a russet skinned girl in the brush of a forest, a wolf skin hanging over her back. I'm going out of my mind too.

note: 💞💝💗💞💝💘💕💕💘💖💕💕💞💝 oh and check out my girl firenations her embry fic because 👀👀 her oc is gonna be popping up in the next part, which will follow new moon 👀👀👀 and ugh this chapter was so annoying to write, but I had to because people will be like how did they know about this and what about that and the stories and what and this and bleh blah bleh so yeah. twilights going quick okay. I want it OVER I'm so turned off I want to NUT with some werewolves