The van rolled to a stop with a crunch of gravel, the salty air sneaking in before the doors even opened.
La Push Beach stretched out before them wide, gray, and framed by forest. The sea looked cold and endless, its waves rolling in like half-hearted applause. The sky was the usual Forks shade of "slightly depressed," but the laughter spilling out of the van made it brighter than it had any right to be.
Amara hopped out, wrapping her jacket tighter. "So this is it," she said, surveying the gray sand and mist. "Our tropical paradise."
Bella snorted, balancing the snack basket. "Tropical, if you're a penguin."
Mike appeared dramatically behind the van. "Hey, I promised you a beach day, didn't I?"
Jessica flicked her hair. "Technically, you promised us fun. We'll see about that part."
Angela smiled softly as she helped spread the blanket. "I think it's nice. Quiet."
Amara knelt to help her, shaking off one sandy corner. "Yeah," she agreed. "Quiet's underrated. Especially when your classmates scream louder than the seagulls."
Bella chuckled. "That's because you sit near Mike."
"Hey!" Mike protested, mock offended. "My voice projects confidence."
"Your voice projects trauma," Amara shot back.
"Wow," Angela said softly, pulling her jacket tighter.
"Wow?" Mike scoffed. "It's freezing!"
"Mike, you have the survival instincts of a lollipop," Amara said, hopping out of the van. "This is called fresh air. Look it up sometime."
"Yeah? You'll be begging for a heater in five minutes," he retorted.
"I'll be begging for silence first," she shot back.
Bella snorted, muffling her laugh. Amara gave her a side glance and smiled there it was, that glimpse of the real Bella. The one who wasn't overthinking or tangled in vampire drama. Just a girl on a windy beach with her friends.
Soon, Jessica and Angela were arranging snacks chips, soda, a squished cake that leaned like the Tower of Pisa. Bella gathered driftwood with Eric, while Amara handed out cups and teased Mike for his "expert" fire-starting skills.
"Mike, that's not how you light it," she said, watching him stab the logs with a stick.
"I know what I'm doing," he declared confidently, lighter raised like Excalibur.
"Famous last words," Amara murmured.
Bella nearly dropped her twigs laughing.
It took three tries, a mini smoke bomb, and plenty of cursing before the bonfire finally came alive a small but proud flame in the middle of their chaos.
Jessica clapped dramatically. "Behold, our caveman hero!"
Mike bowed with ash in his hair. "You may thank me later — preferably with snacks."
Amara grinned. "You'll get thanks when you stop coughing on smoke."
They all settled down, cross-legged, munching chips and sipping soda. The fire crackled, the air smelled like salt and driftwood, and for the first time, Amara didn't mind the chill.
Maybe it didn't matter where you were — just who you were freezing with.
It started innocently enough.
Jessica was mid-story about her cookie disaster ("they turned into edible Frisbees") when Mike scooped up a handful of sand and flung it at her.
The sand puffed against her hoodie. "MIKE!" she shrieked, brushing herself off.
Angela gasped. Bella froze mid-laugh. Amara blinked like she'd just witnessed a crime.
Mike grinned wickedly. "You all looked too clean. I fixed it."
Amara crossed her arms, tone dry as salt. "Really mature, Newton. Next, you'll start throwing rocks to assert dominance?"
He puffed out his chest. "It's called playful energy."
Amara exchanged a look with the girls the kind of telepathic female alliance that could destroy empires.
Jessica smiled sweetly. "Playful, huh?"
Angela scooped sand with eerie calm. "Then you won't mind some return energy."
Bella grinned. "Incoming!"
The girls launched their counterattack. Sand flew in glorious chaos.
Mike tried to dodge, laughing so hard he could barely move. "Truce! I said truce!"
"No truce for sand criminals!" Amara shouted, pelting him square in the chest.
Eric, who had been watching, betrayed Mike instantly. "I'm with them!" he yelled, throwing wildly — one handful included a stick.
"ERIC!" Mike coughed through laughter. "Team loyalty!"
Even Bella was laughing too hard to breathe. Jessica squealed when Mike tripped over his own foot and landed with a soft thud.
By the end, everyone was covered in sand, grinning, hair wild, and spirits high.
It was pure, ridiculous joy — messy, loud, and perfect.
They collapsed in a heap near the fire, their laughter echoing against the waves.
Mike lay back, groaning dramatically. "I think I swallowed half the beach."
"Good," Amara said. "You needed minerals."
Bella groaned. "Don't encourage her."
Angela passed around cookies. "Truce offering?"
Amara held one up like a toast. "To the brave, the sandy, and the slightly dumb."
Everyone clinked cookies together. The sea hummed softly beside them.
Amara leaned back on her elbows, watching the gray horizon blur into gold. Forks still felt strange, but here — surrounded by laughter and salt — she almost felt at home.
That peace lasted right until she noticed someone waving down the beach.
Jacob Black, all smiles, walking with a few boys from the Quileute tribe.
"Hey!" he called. "What are you two doing here?"
Bella blinked. "Oh! We came with some friends from school."
Jacob grinned, looking from Bella to Amara. "Ah, the famous Forks crowd. And you—Amara, right? Didn't think the weather would tempt you out here."
"Peer pressure and snacks," Amara replied. "They work wonders."
He laughed, then introduced his friends Embry, Quil .
When the boys' gazes lingered on Amara, she just waved casually. "Hi."
Bella muttered a shy "Hey," hiding in her hoodie.
Embry elbowed Quil. "Dude, she's like… glowing."
Amara pretended not to hear. Moonlight charm. Perk of whatever cosmic joke she was living in.
They chatted easily, the fire crackling, until Angela leaned toward Bella with mischief in her eyes.
"So, didn't you invite Edward Cullen too?"
Bella froze. "I—uh—it wasn't really an invitation. It was friendly."
Jessica gasped theatrically. "And he rejected you?"
Bella turned scarlet. "It wasn't like that!"
Amara smirked. "Yeah, sure. Just friendly eye contact that could melt glaciers."
Jessica and Angela burst out laughing. Bella groaned. "You're all awful."
"Honest," Amara corrected. "Big difference."
Even Mike was chuckling, pretending to be mature while stoking the fire. The mood was golden until Jacob's voice cut through softly.
"Cullen doesn't come here."
The laughter faltered.
For a second, even the ocean hushed.
Jessica blinked. "Why not?"
Jacob's face stayed calm, but his tone had that quiet edge. "Just… tribal stuff. The Cullens stay on their land. We stay on ours."
The fire crackled louder, like it was listening too.
Amara exhaled quietly. Great. Way to summon the foreshadowing spirit, Jacob.
She forced a smile. "Well, as long as no one bites over the last marshmallow, we're fine."
Laughter returned, thinner now, but the shadow of his words stayed — drifting like fog across the sand.
Later, when the sun dipped low and the others wandered off, Bella and Amara walked beside Jacob along the shore. The tide whispered against their boots, the air cool and silver.
"So…" Bella asked, curiosity soft but steady. "Why don't the Cullens come here, really?"
Jacob chuckled. "You really want to know?"
Bella nodded.
Amara's inner voice sighed. Oh no. Here we go — the vampire PowerPoint presentation.
Jacob kicked at the sand. "It's a story — a legend. My great-grandfather told it to me. About our ancestors and the cold ones."
Bella frowned. "Cold ones?"
"Yeah. That's what the Quileute call them," he said. "Pale, fast, strong… not exactly human."
Bella listened, transfixed.
Amara kept her face neutral, but inside she was groaning. Fantastic. The spooky slideshow begins.
Jacob continued, voice lower now. "There was a treaty. They promised not to bite anyone, and we promised to stay off their land. That's the balance."
Bella's eyes widened. "Wait, so they're—"
Jacob smiled faintly. "Just a story. Don't take it too seriously."
Bella didn't look convinced.
Amara gazed at the sea, pretending calm while her heart beat faster. Oh, it's real, alright.
She forced a light tone. "Creepy bedtime story, Jacob. Ten out of ten for atmosphere."
He laughed. "That's the point."
The wind rose slightly, cool and whispering through the pines.
They walked on in silence — three silhouettes framed by dying sunlight.
Amara's thoughts drifted, uneasily calm. Forks had a way of smiling before it struck.
And she was starting to realize something unsettling —
you didn't need to chase danger here.
When you lived with Isabella Swan, it eventually found you.
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