Morning sunlight poured through the windshield as Mike Newton pulled into the familiar driveway.
He honked once before hopping out of the Mountaineer, stretching his arms overhead.
Beth Crowley was already standing on the porch with a mug of coffee in hand, her bathrobe fluttering lightly in the cool breeze.
“Good morning, Beth!” Mike called cheerfully, leaning against the car with his usual easy grin.
“You look radiant as always.
Honestly, Tyler must’ve gotten his looks from his dad’s side of the family, because if he inherited yours, girls would be falling out of the sky every time he walked by.” Beth laughed, waving him off.
“Flattery this early in the morning?
You must want something.” “Just speaking my truth,” Mike said innocently, holding his hands up in surrender.
“Though if you ever get tired of Tyler, I’m available for adoption.” “Dream on,” she replied with another laugh.
Right on cue, Tyler appeared in the doorway with his backpack hanging off one shoulder and an expression sour enough to curdle milk.
“Dude,” he groaned while limping toward the car, “stop flirting with my mom.” Mike smirked and followed him.
“Can’t help it.
She’s so nice to me.” Tyler muttered something under his breath that sounded vaguely threatening as he climbed into the passenger seat.
A moment later the engine rumbled to life, and they pulled onto the road toward Forks High.
The radio played some upbeat pop song while Mike tapped the steering wheel in rhythm, humming along under his breath.
Tyler narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“You’re way too happy for a Monday.
What’s wrong with you?” Mike’s grin widened.
“What’s not to be happy about?
Nice weather, sunny skies, emotionally devastating cafeteria pizza waiting for us…” He conveniently left out the real reason.
Sunny weather meant no Cullens.
No Edward Cullen staring into his soul from across the cafeteria.
No psychic warfare.
No desperately trying to think of the dumbest things imaginable every time the vampire looked at him too long.
Not that it wasn’t funny sometimes.
Mike took a certain amount of pride in being one of the only humans alive capable of mentally flash-banging a telepath with thoughts about banana-costume tap dancing competitions.
But honestly?
It was exhausting.
And he was running out of ammunition.
There were only so many times a person could mentally loop Baby Shark before beginning to lose fundamental pieces of themselves.
So yes.
Today was a good, calm day where absolutely nothing weird would happen.
Hopefully.
… The cafeteria buzzed with the usual lunchtime chaos: trays clattering, conversations overlapping, and the lingering smell of burnt cheese that no amount of ventilation could ever fully remove.
Mike sat with the usual group: Jessica, Lauren, Angela, Ben, Eric, Tyler, and Bella.
His tray held what the school legally claimed was pizza, though Mike suspected it had once been used in a chemistry experiment.
Bella, meanwhile, barely touched her food.
Her eyes kept drifting around the cafeteria like she was searching for someone.
And of course, Jessica noticed immediately.
“Who are you looking for?” she asked, already sounding smug about whatever conclusion she’d reached.
Bella blinked.
“No one.
I just thought…” “Cullen?” Jessica interrupted with a knowing smirk.
“Don’t bother.
They never come to school when it’s sunny.” Bella frowned slightly.
“What?
Why?” Jessica shrugged dramatically.
“Their parents take them camping or hiking or something every time the weather’s nice.
Weird family tradition.” Bella stared down at her salad, clearly thinking hard about something.
Mike, meanwhile, was enjoying the rare experience of not being psychologically harassed by vampires.
He took a bite of his pizza and immediately regretted it, but then he took another bite anyway.
Angela glanced over at him and smiled faintly.
“You seem unusually happy today.” Eric pointed accusingly with a fry.
“Seriously.
Nobody smiles like that voluntarily on a Monday.” Tyler snorted.
“Maybe he finally found someone who actually laughs at his jokes.” Mike nearly choked as every single person at the table suddenly looked at him with dangerous levels of interest.
“Uh…” Jessica crossed her arms immediately.
“Okay, what happened?” Mike thought about dodging the question for a moment, but then decided he was in far too good a mood to bother.
He swallowed his food and leaned back casually.
“I met a girl.” The reaction was immediate.
Eric almost dropped his drink.
“No way.” Angela smiled warmly.
“That’s great, Mike.” Lauren leaned forward.
“So, who is she?” Jessica, meanwhile, went suspiciously still.
“Oh really?” she asked lightly, though the tightness in her voice didn’t quite match the smile on her face.
“When did this happen?” Mike completely missed the danger signs.
“Yesterday.
At La Push.” Bella looked up immediately at that.
Mike grinned helplessly.
“She’s… different.” Angela tilted her head.
“Different how?” Mike thought about Leah’s sharp tongue, the way she glared at him while secretly trying not to laugh, the fierce spark in her eyes, and the fact that she somehow managed to call him “pipsqueak” despite him towering over her like a streetlamp.
His grin only widened.
“Just different.” Jessica poked aggressively at her food.
“Can’t wait to meet her,” she muttered.
Mike remained blissfully oblivious while leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh.
Yeah.
Life was definitely looking up.
… By the time he dropped Tyler off later that afternoon, Mike should’ve been satisfied.
The day had gone perfectly.
Sunny weather.
No vampires.
Good mood.
No disasters at all.
But the moment he found himself alone in the Mountaineer again, Leah’s laugh started replaying in his head on an endless loop.
He pulled out his flip phone and flipped it open.
He started a new message, and then immediately froze when he realised something.
“…I forgot to ask for her number.” Mike stared at the screen in disbelief before dropping his forehead against the steering wheel.
“Leah was right,” he muttered.
“I’m actually an idiot.” Then his brain finally caught up with something useful.
She mentioned that she worked at a grocery store on the reservation.
That counted as a lead.
And Mike Newton, unfortunately for everyone involved, was a man who thrived on reckless optimism.
The Mountaineer roared to life as he peeled away from the curb like he was heading into battle.
The drive to La Push passed in a blur of trees and nervous energy.
His stomach bounced the whole way there.
He had never done anything this impulsive before.
Well.
Except for that skateboard incident.
But he was determined not to end up in a bush this time.
… The salty ocean air hit him the moment he parked near the reservation.
Mike hopped out and immediately realized one small problem.
He had absolutely no idea which grocery store Leah worked at.
So naturally, he did what any sane, composed person would do.
He panicked internally and asked the first person he saw.
“There’s two grocery stores,” the kid at the diner explained slowly after Mike’s rambling attempt at a question.
“Old Mill’s down that road.
The other one’s by the marina.” Mike lit up like he’d just discovered buried treasure.
“You’re a hero.” Then he sprinted toward the store visible in the distance.
The kid watched him with visible concern.
… Old Mill Market turned out to be tiny and cramped, with narrow aisles and a little bell above the entrance that jingled loudly when Mike stepped inside.
He scanned the place hopefully before approaching the cashier.
“Hey,” he said, attempting casual confidence and failing spectacularly.
“Do you know Leah Clearwater?” The cashier blinked.
“Leah?
Sweetheart, she works at the marina store.” Mike deflated instantly.
“Oh!
Right.
Thanks.” He turned and practically ran down toward the marina-side market before he remembered he had come by car, so he ran back to his mountaineer and drove the two miles.
… The marina-side market was slightly bigger than Old Mill’s, though not by much.
When Mike stepped inside, windblown and slightly sweaty from nervousness, the old woman behind the counter looked up from her magazine.
She was tiny.
Tiny in the terrifying way certain old women were tiny.
The kind that looked fully capable of killing a man with a soup ladle.
“You lost, boy?” she asked suspiciously.
Mike smiled nervously.
“Uh, sorry to bother you, ma’am.
I’m looking for Leah Clearwater.
I met her yesterday on the beach and…” The woman’s eyes narrowed instantly.
Mike felt his survival instincts activate.
“She works here, right?” he continued quickly.
“I just wanted to…” The old woman reached beneath the counter.
And pulled out a shotgun.
Mike stopped existing for a second.
“Listen carefully, pale boy,” she said coldly while leveling the weapon at him with alarming confidence.
“You come wandering in here asking about young girls and think we won’t notice?
I’ve lived long enough to recognize trouble when it walks through the door.” Mike’s soul nearly left his body.
“No!
No, no, no, that’s not what this is!” he blurted.
“I know her!
We talked yesterday!
I’m not a creep, I swear to God!” The shotgun lowered exactly one inch.
Not exactly reassuring.
“She works tomorrow morning,” the woman finally said.
“You show up tonight skulking around, and I’ll introduce you personally to every shell in this gun.” Mike nodded so fast his neck almost snapped.
“Understood.
Crystal clear.
Message received.” The woman squinted at him another second.
Then jerked her chin toward the door.
“Go on.” Mike did not need to be told twice.
He turned around and speed-walked out of the store with what little dignity he still possessed.
The moment he reached the Mountaineer, he collapsed against the driver’s side door and let out a long breath.
“…Well,” he muttered weakly.
“That could’ve gone better.” And yet somehow…
He still felt hopeful.
Tomorrow… he’d come back tomorrow.
Properly.
Normally.
Without accidentally looking like a creep.
He’d talk to Leah, ask for her number like a functioning human being, and maybe avoid getting threatened with firearms this time.
Hopefully.
Either way, the mission wasn’t over.
Not even close.