Rachel was extremely Rachel come Friday. She kept pressing for news about Blaine and I would have gladly given her the gossip—except for the part where there was nothing to tell. Finn had kept quiet about Blaine's involvement in my little dramatic episode so Rachel remained oblivious. That didn't stop her asking questions about the lunch though. She caught up with me in Trig. "So what did Blaine Cullen want yesterday?"

I went to shrug casually but she stopped me, "You can't get off that easy, Kurt! When two people's mouths are moving it's conversation—and you and Blaine seemed deep in it."

"He never really got to the point," I answered truthfully.

"You seemed kind of mad," she pointed, fishing for more information.

"I did?" I asked surprised.

"You know, Blaine never sits with anyone but his family. Trust me, I would know. It was really weird."

"Weird…? How so?"

But even with my superb acting skills at remaining inconspicuous, Rachel's eyes grew wide and it dawned on her. "Oh my… I knew it! You like him!"

"Excuse me?" I retorted, one eyebrow raised but only because I had nothing else to shoot back. Inside my heart was racing… why couldn't Rachel be oblivious like Brittany?

"It's okay," she said writing down several trig problems, at an incredible speed, "I won't judge you—two dad's remember?"

I was starting to get nervous and my writing was starting to suffer, "It really isn't like that," I pressed. "You've got it all wrong. Besides, I like someone else."

She kept up her furious writing pace, "Really? Who? Because Sam's taken too."

"Rachel…"

"And I'm still dating Finn."

"Rachel!"

"Is something the matter?" Mr. Varner asked, walking past our table and looming taller than ever as he looked down on us.

"No sir, not at all," I lied sheepishly. He seemed to buy it and continued to walk. Rachel however, thank Gaga, did not pick up the nerve to talk to me again.

At lunch, Finn had taken over, chatting animatedly of Saturday's plans. Rapt in the attention he was showing her with his arm around her as he talked, Rachel did not press me any further. I personally was looking forward to the warmer weather Finn firmly believed in—at least the day would be a little brighter.

But as depressing as I knew it was, I couldn't help looking over at the table where Quinn, Mercedes and Sam were sitting, talking only amongst themselves. Despite Blaine telling me that he wouldn't be here today, a tiny part of me had still hoped that he would be.

That night at dinner, Burt seemed exceptionally enthusiastic that I had agreed to go to La Push with Finn and his friends. He kept repeating how wonderful he thought it was that we were spending time together, and how happy Carole would be to know that we were getting along, and how proud he was that I was making such an effort to get to really know Finn better.

"Honestly Dad, with the way you're going on, you'd think you'd want me to date him!"

I had said it without thinking, not worrying of the implications, but Burt seemed to have some. He swallowed his food gently, placing his fork softly on the table and spoke very slowly.

"Why… would I think you'd want to date—Finn?"

"I don't!" I said, almost too fast. I could feel the crimson flooding my cheeks. "It's just an expression, Dad. I meant nothing by it. Besides, I think I might like someone else."

This seemed to relax Burt a little. He picked up his fork again, "Really? What's her name?"

"Bl-Brittany," I blurted out almost slipping. I couldn't look Burt in the eye.

"Brittany Crowley? That ditzy blonde who almost ran you over?"

I nodded. "Yeah, she invited me to prom."

I still couldn't quite look Burt in the eye but I could tell he was looking at me intently, almost confused even. He sighed. "Well if—Brittany—is who makes you happy, then, I'm all for it."

Burt picked up his fork again but still sat there without eating. I could tell he was thinking very hard. "Kurt," he finally said, "I just want you to be happy. And be with whoever it is that makes you happy."

I almost coughed and choked at the same time as I spluttered out a jumbled 'thank you'. Could Burt possibly know I liked Blaine? I had been very careful not to say anything but then again, this was a small town… word would get around fast, especially if Rachel had said anything. But I hadn't even yet told him I'd be going to Seattle with Blaine. Not that I was in any hurry to.

"Dad?" I asked drinking some water and hastily trying to change the subject, "Do you know a place called Goat Rocks?"

"Yeah…" he answered slowly, "You're not going to tell me you're suddenly interested in hunting, are you?"

"No."

"Good. Because it's a dangerous place. Full of bears. Okay for hunting season, but I didn't quite pick you as the hunting type to be honest."

"Oh," I murmured, "No you're right. I just heard the name in passing. Must have got it wrong. I thought I heard some kids talk about camping there."

An unusual brightness woke me the next day. I couldn't believe it. Finn had forecast the weather almost perfectly, and sure enough, as I stared out my window, there was the sun. There were still endless clouds but in the distance, a patch of blue. I stared at it for as long as I could, not sure when I would see it again.

Carole's Olympic Outfitters store was just north of town. Burt had been there several times—but not for supplies—and was able to drop me off as he was spending the day with Carole anyway. In the parking lot I recognized Finn and Brittany's cars. I waved bye to Burt as he joined Carole inside the store and went over to where the group were standing. Mike Yorkie was there, along with two other boys I had class with. Rachel was there too, along with Tina Weber and Lauren. Three other girls stood with them, though I didn't know their names either.

Finn seemed happy to see me. "Hey Kurt! I'm glad you've come!" He grasped my hand tight in a firm handshake, "Between you and me Mom seems over the moon that I invited you."

"Yeah, Dad's the same," I nodded.

"We're just waiting for a couple of others… unless you invited someone," Finn added.

"Blaine," I admitted, "But he won't be able to make it. He had other plans."

I could feel the eyes of everyone around me—Rachel's bearing into me the most. Finn seemed oblivious to the sudden drawn attention to me. "So did you wanna ride with me and Rachel? It's either that or risking your life with Brittany."

"You're letting her drive?"

Finn winked, "It was the only way I could get this many girls to come!"

As Finn was driving, Rachel naturally called shotgun placing her arm enthusiastically on Finn's leg as we drove away. Tina and Mike had joined me in the back but the other three girls I hadn't known had gone with Lauren and Brittany, and the first two boys I had remembered by face only were meeting us there.

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. I was glad I had the window seat—mainly because Mike and Tina had upgraded from inappropriate lunch coziness to compatible Asian McHappy Meals and were, in the softest way I could describe it, having each other for lunch.

I'd been to the beaches here before during the summers we had come down when Mom was still healthy, so the mile-long crescent of First Beach was familiar to me. I sighed breathing in the fresh air as I remembered holding Mom's hand as we strolled bare feet in the sand.

We picked our way down to the beach, Finn leading the way. He set up a beautiful driftwood fire composed of beautiful blue and green colors—it was the salt that did that. The boys decided to go hiking to the nearby tidal pools and a smirk grew across my face as I thought of Blaine's request that I not fall into the river.

Minus Rachel and Tina, the girls decided to stay on the beach while two of the boys remained back to stay with them. I joined the hiking group much to Finn's pleasure, I was sure I heard him say something to Rachel that sounded very much like, "Don't be so clingy".

The hike wasn't too long but I kept to myself. My thoughts admittedly were elsewhere with Blaine, wondering what he'd be doing and saying if he was here, but I made the effort to talk to Finn. Eventually my inattentiveness caused me to fall behind. Mike and Finn eventually decided they were hungry and we made our trek back to First Beach.

On our return, the group had multiplied and casual introductions were made. As we got closer I realized that teenagers from the reservation had also come to socialize. The food was already being passed around, and Mike hurried to claim a share while Finn introduced us as we each entered the driftwood circle—he had obviously met these boys before.

Tina and I were the last to arrive and as Finn said our names I noticed a familiar face near the fire glance up at me in interest. I couldn't quite place where I had seen him though he looked a lot like the guys Burt would yell at when he watched football on TV. I sat down next to Tina, and Finn offered us food. One of the older boys from the reservation rattled off their names of the seven others with him but all I caught was that one of the girls was Santana Clearwater and the boy who noticed me was David.

It was relaxing to sit next to Tina; she was so shy without Mike near her that she didn't feel the need to fill every moment with chatter. It left me free to think undisturbed while we ate. And I was thinking about how disjointedly time seemed to flow in Forks, passing in a blur at times, with single images standing out more clearly than others. And then, at other times, every second was significant, etched in my mind. I knew exactly what—or more specifically, who— had caused the difference, and it disturbed me.

As everyone finished up on lunch, people began to drift away in twos and threes. Some walked down to the edge of the waves. Others were gathering a second expedition to the tide pools. Finn — with Rachel shadowing him — headed up to the one shop in the village, though they seemed okay with each other, hand in hand. Some of the local kids went with them; others went along on the hike. By the time they all had scattered, I was sitting alone with Lauren and Brittany occupying themselves by the CD player someone had thought to bring, and three teenagers from the reservation perched around the circle, including the boy named David.

A few minutes after Tina left with the hikers, David sauntered over to take her place by my side. He looked close to my age, maybe older, but definitely built like a football player; his eyes were dark, set deep above the high planes of his cheekbones. He still had a childish roundness left around his chin. Altogether, he wasn't entirely horrible to look at.

"You're Kurt Hummel, aren't you?"

I was surprised. There was no role-call here to listen out for. How would he know my dad's surname?

"Kurt Swan," I corrected, "I'm not sure how you know me as Hummel as I had my name changed before I got here. Speaking of which, I can't remember yours."

"I'm David Black." He held his hand out in a friendly gesture. "You bought my dad's truck, your name was written on one of the papers."

"Oh," I said, finally making the connection as I shook his hand. "You're Artie's son. Now I know where I've seen you! We used to make pies together when we were little!"

"Pies made out of mud!" He laughed remembering, but then his face grew solemn, "I know we were just kids then but I called you some pretty horrible names. I can't believe I was such a douche. It was why Dad and Burt—"

"—stopped talking," I suddenly recalled.

Burt and Artie had consequentially organized our play dates, to keep us busy while they fished. They were really close before the falling out. I hated it when they stopped talking partially because I blamed myself for it happening. I remembered thinking I would never have gone running to Burt if it meant he would lose his friend.

"It's kinda funny now isn't it?" David asked but I wasn't quite sure what he was referring to.

"What's that?"

"The only thing that drove our fathers to start talking again was for one of them to almost die in a car crash."

"True," I agreed, "But I think it had more to do with the fact that Mom was nagging him to talk to Artie for ages! Burt really missed his company and she was the only one who could soften him. But then when the accident happened, Burt didn't need telling twice."

"Elizabeth…" David realized, speaking my mother's name out loud, "Her maiden name was Swan, right?"

I nodded, "I took it after she died."

He must have seen something in my face because David quickly changed the topic. "So… how do you like the truck?" he asked.

"Honestly? I was just glad to not have to turn up on my first day driven by my dad! But all in all, it runs great, I love it."

"Yeah, but it's really slow," he laughed. "I was so relieved when Burt bought it, though I'd thought he'd be using it for spare parts. That was exactly what I was going to do with it, so I could build another car, but Dad disagreed."

"It's not that slow!" I objected.

"Have you tried to go over sixty?"

"No," I admitted.

"Good. Don't." He grinned.

I couldn't help grinning back. "It does great in a collision," I offered in my truck's defense.

"I don't think anything could take it out," he agreed with another laugh.

"So you build cars?" I asked, impressed. "Burt's a mechanic; he'd probably love to have you around."

"I'd love to help! I build in my spare time provided I have the parts. Speaking of which, your dad wouldn't happen to know where I could get my hands on a master cylinder for a 1986 Volkswagen Rabbit?" he added.

"I'll be sure to ask," I laughed, "I haven't seen any lately, but I'll keep my eyes open for you." As if I even knew what that was. At least, he was very easy to talk with.

He flashed a brilliant smile, looking at me appreciatively in a way I was learning to recognize. I wasn't the only one who noticed.

"How do you know David, Kurt?" Brittany asked, "I've never seen him at school before..."

"We've sort of known each other since we were born," he laughed, smiling at me again.

"Oh. I'm surprised Lord Tubbington never said anything to me." She was talking about her cat of course, but David didn't know that. He looked at me and asked me what he was missing but all I could do was laugh even harder.

"Kurt," she called again, as if I wasn't laughing at all, "It's a shame your new friend Blaine Cullen couldn't make it today."

At the mention of Blaine's name, a tall older boy looked up. There was a slight look of almost hatred on his face. He was really closer to a man than a boy, and his voice was very deep. "The Cullens don't come here," he said in a tone that closed the subject.

Brittany thought nothing of it and was distracted by Lauren asking her to change the music. But I stared at the deep-voiced boy, taken aback, but he was looking away toward the dark forest behind us. He'd said that the Cullens didn't come here, but his tone had implied something more — it was as if they weren't allowed. I'd been isolated from a couple of places myself in the past to know that tone. His manner left a strange impression on me, and I tried to ignore it without success.

David interrupted my thoughts. "I can't believe Forks hasn't driven you crazy yet."

"Oh, it's getting there." I grimaced. "I might actually run out of clothes to wear soon."

He grinned understandingly. "I can't imagine how hard that must be for you." He was being sarcastic of course, but there was something about the way that the sun caught his watch which made me raise an eyebrow.

"Says the boy who's wearing Armani on his wrist!"

"Now come on, that doesn't mean that I'm—"

He suddenly stopped.

"That you're what, David?"

He flushed red though I wasn't quite sure what had just happened. "Do you want to walk down the beach with me?" he asked. His eyes were downcast. It was as if he was terribly embarrassed but I had no idea why. I jumped up willingly enough and he grinned, almost in relief.

As we walked north across the beach the clouds finally closed ranks across the sky, causing the sea to darken and the temperature to drop. I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my jacket.

"Kurt," Dave said, staring at the ground as we walked, "When I apologized for calling you all those names when we were younger, I really meant it."

"I know," I smiled, pushing into him a little, trying to lighten the situation. He didn't even budge, but he laughed. "You're trying to take me down Hummel?" He bumped back into me and I almost fell to the floor.

"Swan!" I reminded persistently, though I was grinning widely.

"Always Hummel to me," he said, pretending to nudge me again and laughing as I flinched. "But really, I never should have called you those names."

"It's okay," I said, "We were only kids and it was never physically abusive. At least you never tried to throw me in a dumpster or shove me into a locker."

"Whoa… really?"

I nodded, "I didn't really want to leave Ohio. But at least here, people seem to be more indifferent towards it I guess."

"So you are—g-g…" He seemed to have a lot of trouble grasping the word. I decided I'd help him a little.

"Gay, David? Is that it?" I sighed but I was smiling. David had just about frozen but to me the whole situation was rather amusing. Coming out to the boy who used to tease me for being a 'fag.' "Yes I am gay." I told him, "I haven't told Burt yet. Still, there are these moments when I think he might know but I haven't said anything to him."

David finally found the ability to move again and nodded, "Can I tell you why after so long I still feel so stupid for picking on you when we were kids?"

"Hmmm, because you've found Jesus and are suddenly a reformed man?"

He laughed, "Well, er no, not exactly. It's just… you made me realize a lot of things about myself and as I grew older I wished I still had you as friend. It would be nice having someone around who, you know, would have really understood what I was going through…"

I turned to face him but he wasn't looking at me. I was instantly curious. "What are you on about, David?"

"I'm not out to anyone but—I'm gay too," he confessed. He let out a deep breath. "It feels so good to finally be able to tell someone!"

"Really?" I was shocked. I would never have picked it. Really, anyone who looked at this guy wouldn't have guessed it. Even Rachel with her self-confessed "gaydar." "That's come as a surprise Dave, I would have sworn I saw you flirting with Lauren."

I was only teasing and though he realized it he still bumped me again, laughing. "She's a little bit too much woman for me to handle," he explained. "Just, please don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Hey!" I said, "We're on the same boat, remember? I promise not to out you if you don't tell Burt!"

"Deal!" He agreed. "And after I get my car finished, I can come up to Forks more often and we can hang out and stuff."

"I'd really like that!" I said, and I meant it. It would be nice spending time with someone, who as Dave put it, understood. I wasn't too sure about his other friends though. "Hey David… who was that other boy Brittany was talking to? He seemed a little old to be hanging out with us."

"Oh that's Azimio — he's nineteen," he informed me.

"What was that he was saying about that doctor's family?" I asked innocently.

"The Cullens? Oh, they're not allowed on the reservation." He looked away, out toward James Island, as he confirmed what I'd thought I'd heard in Azimio's voice.

"Why not?"

He glanced back at me, biting his lip. "Sorry to be such a buzz-kill but I'm really not supposed to say anything about it."

"Oh, I won't tell anyone, I'm just curious." I tried to make my smile alluring, wondering if now that I knew he was gay too I could work it to my advantage. Like I'd pull it off. I didn't want to use him.

He smiled back, though, looking allured. Then he lifted one eyebrow and his voice was even huskier than before. Ah! Was he flirting with me?

"I don't know… Can you handle scary stories?" he asked ominously.

"I love them," I enthused, "And what's there to be scared about when I've got a football player en garde."

He looked confused, I had let my French slip so I elaborated, "It means I have you on my defense."

"Huh? Oh not that, I was just thinking—I mean I have thrown a few balls around before but—you think I resemble a football player?"

My eyes widened, "Well yeah—from what I've seen Burt watch on TV, you're all jock. Very masculine."

He stared down at the rocks, a smile hovering around the edges of his broad lips. I could see he was going to try to make this good. I was really intrigued but I didn't want to be too obvious. I didn't want David to know I was crushing on Blaine which was the real reason I was so intent to find out. Though there was no reason to suggest that he would, I didn't want David to stop talking to me if he found out why I had started talking to him.

"Do you know any of our old stories, about where we came from — the Quileutes, I mean?" he began.

"Not really," I admitted.

"Well, there are lots of legends, some of them claiming to date back to the Flood — supposedly, the ancient Quileutes tied their canoes to the tops of the tallest trees on the mountain to survive like Noah and the ark." He smiled, to show me how little stock he put in the histories.

"Another legend claims that we descended from wolves — and that the wolves are our brothers still. It's against tribal law to kill them."

His voice dropped a little lower. "Then there are the stories about the Cold Ones."

"The Cold Ones?" I asked, not faking my intrigue now.

"Yes. 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 knew some of them. He was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our land." He rolled his eyes.

"Your great-grandfather?" I encouraged.

"He was a tribal elder, like my father. 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. You would call them werewolves."

"Werewolves have enemies?"

"Only one."

I stared at him earnestly, hoping to disguise my impatience as admiration.

"So you see," David continued, "the Cold Ones are traditionally our enemies. But this pack that came to our territory during my great-grandfather's 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-grandfather made a truce with them. If they would promise to stay off our lands, we wouldn't expose them to the pale-faces." He winked at me.

"If they weren't dangerous, then why… ?" I tried to understand, struggling not to let him see how seriously I was considering his ghost story.

"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.

"What do you mean, 'civilized'?"

"They claimed that they didn't hunt humans. They supposedly were somehow able to prey on animals instead."

I tried to keep my voice casual. "So how does it fit in with the Cullens? Are they like the Cold Ones your great-grandfather met?"

"No." He paused dramatically. "They are the same ones."

He must have thought the expression on my face was fear inspired by his story. He smiled, pleased, and continued.

"There are more of them now; a new female and a new male, but the rest are the same. In my great-grandfather's time they already knew of the leader, William. He'd been here and gone before your people had even arrived." He was fighting a smile.

"And what are they?" I finally asked. "What are the Cold Ones?"

He smiled darkly. "Blood drinkers," he replied in a chilling voice. "Your people call them…vampires."

I stared out at the rough surf after he answered, not sure what my face was exposing.

"You have goose bumps," he laughed delightedly.

"You're a good storyteller," I complimented him, still staring into the waves.

"Pretty crazy stuff, though, isn't it? No wonder my dad doesn't want us to talk about it to anyone."

I couldn't control my expression enough to look at him yet. "Don't worry, I won't give you away."

"I guess I just violated the treaty," he laughed.

"I'll take it to the grave," I promised, and then I shivered.

"Seriously, though, don't say anything to Burt. He and Dad almost got into another huge fight when Burt heard that some of us weren't going to the hospital since Dr. Cullen started working there."

"I won't, of course not. Same way I promised I wouldn't out you to anyone either."

David smiled. I could tell he trusted me and I appreciated it. I might be a gossip queen but I was also incredibly trustworthy.

"So do you think we're a bunch of superstitious natives or what?" David asked in a playful tone, but with a hint of worry. I still hadn't looked away from the ocean.

I turned and smiled at him as normally as I could. "No. I think you're very good at telling scary stories, though. I still have goose bumps, see?" I held up my arm.

"Cool." He smiled.

And then the sound of the beach rocks clattering against each other warned us that someone was approaching. Our heads snapped up at the same time to see Finn and Rachel about fifty yards away, walking toward us.

"There you are, Kurt!" Finn called in relief, waving his arm over his head. "Mom and Burt would've killed me!"

"I didn't know you had a brother" David said, interpreting Finn's relief as sibling concern.

"Almost step-brother," I whispered. I was tremendously grateful to David for taking me on this walk and clearing so many things up even if he added so much more for me to think about. I winked at him, carefully turning away from Finn to do so.

"So as soon as I get that car up and running…" he began.

"You should come see me in Forks. We should definitely hang out sometime." I felt guilty as I said this, knowing that I'd used him. But despite what had gone down when we were younger, I really did like David now. He was someone I could easily see myself being friends with.

Finn had reached us now, hand in hand with Rachel. I could see his eyes appraising David in an older-brother demeanor—even if he was just that little bit younger than me.

"I'm sorry I wandered Finn, David was just telling me some local stories," I volunteered. "It was really interesting."I smiled at David warmly, and he grinned back.

"Well," Finn paused, carefully reassessing the situation as he watched our camaraderie. "We're packing up — it looks like it's going to rain soon. And if I don't get you home safely Mom and Burt will definitely have me." We all looked up at the glowering sky. It certainly did look like rain.

"Okay." I jumped up. "I'm coming."

"It was nice to see you again," David said, and I could tell he was taunting Finn just a bit.

"It really was. Next time Burt comes down to see Artie, I'll come too," I promised.

His grin stretched across his face. "That would be cool."

"And thanks," I added earnestly.

I pulled up my hood as we tramped across the rocks toward the parking lot. A few drops were beginning to fall, making black spots on the stones where they landed. When we got to Finn's car, the others were already loading everything back in. I crawled into the backseat by Tina and Mike as Rachel loudly called out shot gun again.

Mike had his arm over Tina and while they both seemed content to just stare out the window, I still couldn't look at them. I simply lay my head back on the seat and closed my eyes trying very hard not to think.