After classes ended, Mike gave Tyler a ride home like he’d promised.
The drive through Forks was quiet and familiar, gray skies hanging low over the roads while damp pine trees blurred past the windows.
Tyler had apparently spent his week trapped in bed gathering enough stories to fuel a small podcast, because he spent most of the drive talking lazily about the teachers he’d missed and how half the school still treated him like some local celebrity.
“And then Mrs.
Cooper brought me extra homework,” Tyler said with a betrayed expression.
“Extra homework, Mike.
I almost died and her first thought was better give him more algebra.” Mike stared at him in horror.
“Jesus.
You almost got hit by a van and survived Mrs.
Cooper?
You’re basically immortal.” Tyler nodded solemnly.
“I know.
It’s a heavy burden.” Mike snorted.
When they pulled into the Crowley driveway, Beth was already standing on the porch waiting for them.
She smiled the second she saw the car, waving warmly.
“Mike!
You really don’t have to drive him every day,” she said as they got out, her voice carrying that mix of gratitude and motherly insistence.
Mike shrugged with a grin.
“Hey, no big deal.
It’s on the way anyway, so it doesn’t cost me anything.” Beth crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes slightly.
“Well then, at least come in for dinner.
I won’t take no for an answer.” Mike attempted the weakest resistance in human history.
“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly…” Then the smell drifted out from the house.
Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and something sweet cooling by the window.
Mike looked toward the doorway.
“…I have been defeated.” Tyler shook his head.
“Traitor.” Inside, the house felt warm in a way that instantly made you want to sit down and stay awhile.
Soft yellow light pushed back the gloomy evening outside, and the table was already set.
Mike stared openly.
“This looks amazing.” He sat across from Beth and beside Tyler, whose arm was still tucked into its sling.
“You sure you didn’t secretly hire a chef or something?” Beth laughed.
“Flattery will definitely get you seconds.” Mike pointed at her with complete seriousness.
“It’s not flattery if it’s true, Beth.
If I’d known dinner was like this, I’d have started freeloading years ago.” Beth tilted her head and smiled slyly.
“Careful, Mike.
I might start taking you up on that.” Tyler looked between them suspiciously.
“Wait.
Since when are you two on a first-name basis?” Mike looked at Beth.
Beth looked at Mike.
And the exact same thought crossed both of their minds at the same time.
Mike leaned back casually.
“Well, your mom and I have gotten pretty close lately.” He turned toward Beth with a grin.
“Right, Beth?” “Very close,” Beth agreed smoothly, resting her chin against her hand.
“He’s been such a gentleman too.
Helpful, polite…” Tyler blinked.
“…Okay, you can stop the joke here.” Mike ignored him.
“Come on, son.
Don’t be like that.
You have to get used to these things eventually.” He put on his most fatherly expression.
“Go ahead.
Call me Dad.” “Alright, man, stop it!” Tyler threw up his good hand in panic.
“That’s seriously creepy!” Beth hummed thoughtfully and tapped a finger against her cheek.
“I don’t know, Tyler…” she said slowly.
“I’ve been alone for years now.
It does get lonely sometimes.” Her eyes drifted toward Mike.
“And I certainly wouldn’t mind dating a handsome young stud like Mike here.” Tyler froze and his face lost all color.
“Mom!” His voice cracked halfway through.
“What the hell?!
Please tell me you’re not serious!” That completely destroyed Mike.
He bent over laughing while Beth followed immediately after, bright warm laughter filling the room.
Tyler sank lower into his chair and covered his face.
“Oh my God.” He peeked through his fingers.
“You two are the worst.” Later, when Mike finally got up to leave, he clapped Tyler lightly on the shoulder.
“Alright, son.
I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.” He paused and put on a stern face.
“And don’t make me come upstairs to wake you.” Tyler pointed furiously toward the door.
“Get out already.” Mike could still see the reluctant smile trying to fight its way onto his face.
Beth walked him to the porch, still shaking her head with amusement.
“Drive safe, Mike,” she said softly.
“And thank you.
For everything.” Mike smiled and gave her a mock salute.
“Anytime, Beth.” He started walking toward his car, then looked back.
“You and the kid take care now, I’ll be back tomorrow.” As he drove away, he couldn’t help laughing again at the memory of Tyler’s horrified expression.
For the first time in days, everything felt lighter.
Though he had a feeling he’d be paying for that joke soon enough.
… Saturday, later that week Steam still hung in the bathroom when Mike wiped a hand across the mirror.
Then he stared.
The guy staring back at him didn’t feel like the same person from a few weeks ago.
The changes had been gradual enough that he hadn’t really noticed them day by day, but now that he stopped and looked…
Yeah.
Something was definitely happening.
His face looked sharper now, the softer edges gone.
His jaw looked more defined, his cheekbones slightly higher, and there was even faint stubble along his chin where he’d never managed more than wishful thinking before.
His shoulders had broadened too, and his chest and arms looked like somebody had quietly snuck into his room and upgraded him overnight.
He stepped back and took a look down, noticing it wasn’t only his height that had gained a couple inches.
And even his shoes were starting to feel too tight.
He walked over to the measuring marks on the wall.
A few seconds later he stared blankly at the result.
“Six-five…” “What the hell.” At least the Newtons owned Forks’ sporting goods store, which made replacing clothes easier.
Still…
As he pulled on a fresh shirt, unease settled heavily in his stomach.
This wasn’t some growth spurt.
He’d seen enough Twilight in his old life to recognize the pattern.
Rapid growth, sudden strength increase, heat buzzing beneath his skin.
Shapeshifters.
The Quileute wolves.
Except…
Mike frowned.
That didn’t fit either.
The wolves were supposed to struggle with anger during the change.
Their tempers practically exploded at the smallest problem.
Mike hadn’t felt that.
Sure, he got annoyed sometimes, but he wasn’t suddenly flipping tables or starting fights.
And besides…
“I’m pretty damn sure I’m not Quileute.” Still, the thought refused to leave him alone.
Maybe he needed answers.
Maybe he should ask.
… That evening, the Newton family sat around the kitchen table while the smell of roasted beef filled the room.
Bradley Newton sat behind his newspaper as usual while Karen hummed softly along with the radio and spooned potatoes onto plates.
Mike cleared his throat.
“Hey, uh…
can I ask you guys something?
It’s for a school project.” Bradley lowered the paper slightly.
“Sure, shoot.” Mike tried to sound casual.
“Do we have any…
connection to the Quileute tribe or something?
Like ancestry?” Bradley snorted.
“Me?
Not unless New York suddenly became a reservation.
I moved here after college, city boy through and through.” Karen, however, paused.
Mike noticed immediately.
“…Mom?” Karen looked thoughtful.
“Huh.” She blinked.
“I never told you, did I?” Mike frowned.
“Told me what?” She exchanged a glance with Bradley, who lowered his newspaper completely now.
“My grandmother,” Karen said slowly, “your great-grandmother…
her name was Dorothy Black.” Mike blinked.
“…Wait.” Karen nodded.
“She was Quileute.” Silence.
“Wait, seriously?!” Karen smiled faintly.
“She left the tribe when she fell in love with your great-grandfather.
The elders didn’t approve and called him a pale face.” She made little air quotes.
“Grandma said she didn’t care what those stuck up old men thought.” Bradley let out a whistle.
“Okay, now I wish I had met her.
She sounds pretty badass.” Karen laughed quietly.
“Funny thing, though.
Years later, her younger brother Ephraim became the tribal chief, and he reinstated her into the tribe.
But she never went back.
She said she was happy right where she was, here in Forks, with her family.” Mike slowly looked up.
“…Her younger brother?” Karen nodded.
“Ephraim Black.” Mike stared.
Nope.
Nope nope nope.
Absolutely not.
Because from what he knew, Ephraim Black was the original chief, the same one who made the pact with the Cullens.
Mike swallowed.
“…Huh, that’s actually kind of cool.” His voice somehow sounded perfectly normal.
Inside, however: ‘OH CRAP.’ Because if Dorothy Black really was his great-grandmother…
Then wolf blood absolutely ran through his veins.
And suddenly one question pushed its way to the front of his mind: ‘Should I go visit the reservation?’ ‘…And if I do, am I about to make things even weirder?’ …