Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

    Forks' Police Chief Charlie Swan was enjoying his day off by sitting in his favorite chair with the game on, hoping that when his daughter Bella moved in with him in a few months that he wouldn't have to change his routine too much. Though he knew that she was similar to him in personality, she was still a seventeen year old girl, and dealing with teenage girls was definitely above his pay-grade.

    Just as Charlie was getting up to get himself another beer, there was a knock at the door. He was instantly on alert. Any of the usual people who visited him called to let him know they were coming. He suspected his friend Billy did it so he would know he would have to soon maneuver him up the stairs in his wheelchair. As he opened the door he thought about the merits of installing a peep hole for Bella to use when she came to stay with him.

    Standing there, silhouetted by the foggy, grey morning light were Dr. Carlisle Cullen and one of his five adopted children. Charlie was not as well acquainted with them, and was unaware which was which. He noticed that the doctor was also carrying a large cardboard box.

    "Dr. Cullen, what brings you here this morning? Should I be putting my badge on?" he joked, confused as to why the doctor would be at his house in anything other than official capacity.

    "No, Chief Swan, my son Edward and I received a package this morning, and there was a letter attached instructing us to not view the contents without you, Billy Black, Quil Ateara Sr., and Harry Clearwater. We were hoping you would be able to contact them for us as we do not have their addresses or phone numbers." Dr. Cullen seemed sincere enough that he was inclined to believe him without question.

    "Well, nice to meet you, Edward," Charlie shook the young man's hand, "Why don't you two come in while I call Billy and have him rally the guys together."

    "Pleasure to meet you as well, Chief Swan," Edward was surprisingly polite for a boy of his age, and Charlie was impressed with his manners. The doctor and his son proceeded to the living room while he went to the landline in his kitchen. Calling Billy was such a standard occurrence for Charlie that his fingers hit the buttons almost instinctively. Listening to the dial tone, Charlie couldn't help but wonder why someone would want to gather such a strange group of people to open a silly package. What could possibly be inside the box that tied them all together.

    The phone picked up after only a few rings, and Charlie prepared to ask his friend for a large favor. He knew that Billy, Harry, and Old Quil were elders for the tribe of Quileutes on the local native reservation of La Push, and that they still believed ancient legends that told them the Cullens were dangerous and not to be trusted. He only hoped that Billy would be willing to hear him out before disagreeing outright.

    "Charlie, what can I do for you? It's a bit late in the day for you to want to go fishing," Billy chuckled at his own joke.

    "Billy, Doctor Cullen and his son are here, and have asked me to gather you, Harry, and Old Quil. Seems they got some package that they are only supposed to open with all of us here. Sounds a bit odd if you ask me, but it must be important if whomever it is wanted the Chief of Police and the tribal elders present.

    "Carlisle Cullen and one of his 'children'? They're there with you now, in your house? We'll be there right away, don't worry." Billy hung up before Charlie could say another word, and the worry had been evident in his voice. He meandered his way back into the living room, not looking forward to the awkward silence awaiting him in the other room.

    "Billy says they'll be here soon. Now, do you fellas know who sent you this package, or why they want everyone here?" Charlie was in full investigative mode. A mystery package meant for the best doctor in town, the police chief, and the elders of the local First Nations tribe had to be something major. He knew that Dr. Cullen was too good of a man to waste his time if this weren't important.

    "There is no address or name on the box to indicate who sent it, and the only name on the note was Ness," Carlisle explained. "It asked that we share the note with everyone, so if you don't mind I'd like to wait and read it aloud when the others get here."

    "That's no problem, Doc, they should be here any minute. With the way Billy sounded before he hung up I'd say that I may just have to give them a speeding ticket when they get here." Charlie just hoped it would be soon, as small talk was never something he quite mastered. Just as he thought of asking Edward what grade he was in, he was saved by hearing a truck pull into his gravel driveway.

    "That'll be them now, I better go help Harry with Billy's chair." Charlie hopped up from his recliner and hurried to the door just as the three men barged in without knocking, looking more formidable than they had a right to at their age. He knew that his friends had allowed their superstitions to influence their decision to come, and were prepared to protect him from the kind man and his teenage son.

    "Where's the fire, guys? Harry, I know that it should have taken you a good fifteen minutes to get here. Next time I'll have to write you a ticket. Come in the living room, there's plenty of room on the couch." The men all looked apprehensive at the thought of sitting next to either of the Cullen men. Billy rolled himself next to Charlie's recliner, while Old Quil and Harry stood against the wall behind him. Sighing, Charlie resigned himself to the tense atmosphere and allowed Carlisle to take over.

    "Gentlemen, thank you for coming. I'm sorry if we have inconvenienced any of you. We are just as befuddled as to why we are all here. My son Edward and I received a package addressed to the both of us with no return address with a note attached claiming that it was of utmost importance that we have all of you present before going through it's contents." The sincerity coming off him was clear, and not so easily ignored by the tribesmen. "I will now read the note aloud so that we are all on the same page."

    Carlisle and Edward,

    I ask that you please don't open this package until
you are with Charlie Swan, Billy Black, Harry Clearwater,
and Quil Ateara, Sr. It is important that the six of you review
the contents of this box together. You have more in common
than you think. There are more instructions inside.

Love, Ness

Chapter Text

    "Who is this 'Ness' person anyway, and how the hell do they know who we are?" Harry asked belligerently.

    "Unfortunately we know as much as you do at this point." Carlisle was showing far more patience in the face of Harry's attitude than Charlie would have. If he had been speaking to him that way he'd have gotten a lot more than a kind smile.

    "Why don't we open the package now that we're all here? I'm sure you gentlemen would like to get back to whatever you were doing before we intruded on your day." It was the first time Edward had spoken since the elders had arrived, and though his tone was polite, Charlie noticed that he too seemed to be through with whatever was going on.

    Carlisle swiftly and efficiently slid a nail through the tape and opened the box. He proceeded to pull out another note and what seemed to be four ordinary books with black binding. Opening the note Carlisle read it aloud for everyone's benefit.

Dear Gentlemen, 
  The content of these books depicts the future of your lives following the arrival of Bella Swan to Forks. It is important that all of you are present for the reading of them.      There are things in them can be
prevented or changed for the better.
  Secrets will be revealed over the course of all four books that are necessary for everyone present to know.
  I understand that for some of you these secrets are bigger than others, however, they are, in fact, important
for everyone involved to be prepared for what is to come.
Please do not do anything rash until all four books have been read. Running away will not solve your problems.
I'm looking at you, Edward. Do. Not. Leave. These books will be most important for you to hear, as you are an important person in all of them.
  Billy, Harry, and Quil, please do not allow your prejudices prevent you from listening with an open heart and mind.
  Charlie, there will be instances in these books where your daughter's life will be in danger, but remember that she is okay.
  Most of them can be prevented from the knowledge you learn from reading. Know that it is important for her to come here, and
telling her to stay with her mother won't work. Bella is your daughter through and through and sticks to her decisions.
  You are both stubborn that way.
  You are all here because you have things in common that you may not believe until you are finished, so please read on.
    Love, Ness.

    "This has to be some sort of joke. Books from the future? My daughter can't possibly cause all this trouble, she's just a teenage girl!" Charlie couldn't believe someone would play a prank like this. What would they gain? Especially pranking the police chief.

    Carlisle looked reluctant as he picked up the first book. Harry, Billy, and Quil were looking at it as though the books themselves were going to inflict the danger referred to in the letter. Edward looked like he was, indeed thinking of running.

    "I guess I'll start reading them. The first is called, Twilight, and I believe it is in your daughter's perspective, Chief Swan."

But of the tree of knowledge of good and evil,
thou shalt not eat of it:
for in the day that thou eatest thereof
thou shalt surely die.
Genesis 2:17

Preface

I'd never given much thought to how I would die -though I'd had reason enough in the last few months-
but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this. I stared without breathing across the long room, into the dark
eyes of the hunter, and he looked pleasantly back at me.
Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved. Noble, even. That ought to count for something.
I knew that if I had never gone to Forks, I wouldn't be facing death now. But, terrified as I was, I couldn't bring myself
to regret the decision. When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it's not reasonable
to grieve when it comes to an end.
The hunter smiled in a friendly way as he sauntered forward to kill me.

    "Hunter? Someone is going to try to kill her?" Charlie was irate. No one would dare try to hurt his daughter.

    "I wonder who this hunter could be?" Billy asked while looking pointedly at the Cullens. Though they were looking worriedly at each other having a silent conversation.

    "I'll read the first chapter," Charlie said as he took the book from Carlisle. "I need to know who's going to try and hurt my girl."

Chapter Text

"This chapter is called 'First Sight'."

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt-sleeveless, white eyelet lace. I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.

In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America.

It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a f ew months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen.

That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead.

It was to Forks that I now exiled myself-an action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks.

Old Quil scoffed, "Teenagers! You'd think she's moving to the Seventh Circle of Hell with the way she's acting! It's not that bad here. She hasn't given it a chance."

I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city.

"Bella," my mom said to me-the last of a thousand times-before I got on the plane. "You don't have to do this."

My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt a spasm of panic as I started at her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leave my loving, erratic, hare-brained mother to fend for herself?

Of course she has Phil now, so the bills would probably get paid, there would be food in the refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost, but still...

"I want to go," I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, but I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now.

"Tell Charlie I said hi."

"I will."

"I'll see you soon," she insisted. "You can come home whenever you want-I'll come right back as soon as you need me."

But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise.

"Don't worry about me," I urged. "It'll be great. I love you, Mom."

She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone.

It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I was a little worried about.

Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car.

"Of course you were pleased. She's your daughter and you love her, why would you not be happy she's living with you?" Charlie blushed at Carlisle's words. He'd always known the Cullens were good people, and that they were wonderful with their adopted children. Their good behavior and manners were a testament to their good parenting.

    The Elders seemed shocked at his words, though Charlie couldn't understand why they would find his good-hearted nature surprising. If they wouldn't avoid the hospital due to silly legends and prejudice they would already know that Dr. Cullen was a good man.

    He put his anger aside, for now, not noticing the appraising look Edward was giving him, and continued reading.

But it was sure to be awkward with Charlie. Neither of us was what anyone would call verbose, and I didn't know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision-like m y mother before me, I hadn't made a secret of my distaste for Forks.

When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen-just unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun.

Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Charlie is Police Chief Swan to the good people of Forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be driven around in a car with red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop.

Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane.

"It's good to see you, Bells," he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me. "You haven't changed much. How's Renee?"

"Mom's fine. It's good to see you, too, Dad." I wasn't allowed to call him Charlie to his face.

I only had a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington. My mom and I h ad pooled our resources to supplement my winter wardrobe, but it was still scanty. It all fit easily into the trunk of the cruiser.

"Don't let my sister, Alice, hear that. She's a shopaholic and would drag her around shopping for hours. The little pixie is almost impossible to say no to," Edward chuckled. Charlie made a mental note to stay away from this, Alice, too.

"I found a good car for you, really cheap," he announced when we were strapped in.

"What kind of car?" I was suspicious of the way he said "good car for you" as opposed to just "good car."

"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."

"Where did you find it?"

"Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?" La Push is the tiny Indian reservation on the coast.

"No"

"He used to go fishing with us during the summer," Charlie prompted.

That would explain why I didn't remember him. I do a good job of blocking painful, unnecessary things from my memory.

"He's in a wheelchair now," Charlie continued when I didn't respond, "so he can't drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap."

"What year is it?" I could see from his change of expression that this was the question he was hoping I wouldn't ask.

"Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine-it's only a few years old, really."

I hoped he didn't think so little of me as to believe I would give up that easily. "When did he buy it?"

"He bought it in 1984, I think."

"Did he buy it new?"

"Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties-or late fifties at the earliest," he admitted sheepishly.

"Ch-Dad, I don't really know anything about cars. I wouldn't be able to fi it if anything went wrong, and I couldn't afford a mechanic..."

"Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore."

The thing, I thought to myself...it had possibilities-as a nickname, at the very least.

"How cheap is cheap?" After all, that was the part I couldn't compromise on.

"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." Charlie peeked sideways with a hopeful expression.

Wow. Free.

"You didn't need to do that, Dad. I was going to buy myself a car."

"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here." He was looking ahead at the road when he said this.

Charlie wasn't comfortable with sharing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him. So I was looking straight ahead as I responded

"That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it." No need to add that my being happy in Forks is an impossibility. He didn't need to suffer with me. And I never looked a free truck in the mouth- or engine.

"Well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.

We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much it for conversation. We stared out the windows in silence.

    "Thank God, you're buying that truck off me. Jake has been begging me to let him finish building his car, and I'm afraid if I waited much longer he'd start scrapping the old thing for parts." Billy joked, relieving some of the awkward tension that had settled in the room from Charlie's discomfort at reading about his own feelings.

    He looked at his long time friend as a brother at heart and appreciated his understanding and help.

    "Let's hope she likes it when she sees it," Charlie laughed.

    "I'm sure she will Charlie, simply because it's a gift from you." Carlisle offered. Charlie sent him a small smile in thanks.

It was beautiful, of course; I couldn't deny that. Everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy if it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves.

It was too green-an alien planet.

Eventually we made it to Charlie's. He still lived in the small, two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother in the early days of their marriage. Those were the only kind of days their marriage had-the early ones. There, parked on the street in front of the house that never changed, was my new-well, new to me-truck. It was a faded red color, with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I loved it. I didn't know if it would run, but I could see myself in it. Plus, it was one of those solid iron affairs that never gets damaged-the kind you see at the scene of an accident, paint unscratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed.

"Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!" Now my horrific day tomorrow would be that much less dreadful.

I wouldn't be faced with the choice of either walking two miles in the rain to school or accepting a ride to in the Chief's cruiser.

"I'm glad you like it," Charlie said gruffly, embarrassed again.

It took one trip to get all my stuff upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room was familiar; it had belonged to me since I was born. The wooden floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellowed lace curtains around the window-these were all a part of my childhood. The only changes Charlie had ever made were switching my crib for a bed and adding a desk as I grew. The desk now held a second-hand computer, with the phone line for the modem stapled along the floor to the nearest phone jack. This was a stipulation from my mother, so that we could stay in touch easily. The rocking chair from my baby days was still in the corner.

There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie. I was trying not to dwell too much on that fact.

One of the best things about Charlie is he doesn't hover. He left me alone to unpack and get settled, a feat that would have been altogether impossible for my mother. It was nice to be alone, not t o have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and just let a few tears escape. I wasn't in the mood to go on a real crying jag. I would save that for bedtime, when I would have to think about the coming morning.

Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven- now fifty-eight- students; there were more than seven hundred people in my junior class alone back home. All of the kids here had grown up together-their grandparents had been toddlers together. I would be the new girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak.

Maybe, if I looked how a girl from Phoenix should, I could work this to my advantage. But physically, I had never fit in anywhere. I should be tan, sporty, blond-a volleyball player, or a cheerleader, perhaps-all the things that go with living in the valley of the sun.

Instead, I was ivory-skinned, without even the excuse of blue eyes or red hair, despite the constant sunshine. I had always been slender, but soft somehow, obviously not an athlete; I didn't have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating myself-and harming both myself and anyone else who stood too close.

    "Well, she's definitely your kid, Charlie. I couldn't tell you how many bruises I got trying to play ball with you down on the rez when we were her age," Harry interjected before Charlie could continue reading, causing him to blush to his hairline.

    "Yeah I'm surprised that they let you handle a gun, Chief," Billy continued teasing his friend. Charlie heard Edward snicker and shot him a look that caused him to pretend to cough to cover his laughter.

    "I'd like to finish this chapter today, guys," his voice was rough with suppressed embarrassment.

When I finished putting my clothes in the old pine dresser, I took my bag of bathroom necessities and went to the communal bathroom to clean myself up after the day of travel.

I looked at my face in the mirror as I brushed through my tangled, damp hair. Maybe it was the light, but already I looked sallower, unhealthy. My skin could be pretty-it was very clear, almost translucent-looking-but it all depended on color. I had no color here.

Facing my pallid reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself.

It wasn't just physically that I'd never fit in. And if I couldn't find a niche in a school with three thousand people, what were my chances here?

I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period. Even my mother, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never in harmony with me, never exactly on the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things t hrough my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain.

But the cause didn't matter. All that mattered was the effect. And tomorrow would be just the beginning.

I didn't sleep well that night, even after I was done crying. The constant whooshing of the rain and wind across the roof wouldn't fade into the background. I pulled the faded quilt over my head, and later added the pillow, too. But I couldn't fall asleep until after midnight, when the rain finally settled into a quieter drizzle.

Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning, and I could feel the claustrophobia creeping up on me. You could never see the sky here; it was like a cage.

Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet event. He wished me good luck in school. I thanked him, knowing his hope was wasted. Good luck tended to avoid me. Charlie left first, off to the police station t hat was his wife and family. After he left, I sat at the old square oak table in one of the three unmatching chairs and examined his small kitchen, with its dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Nothing was changed. My mother had painted the cabinets eighteen years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house. Over the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room was a row of pictures. First a wedding picture of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, t aken by a helpful nurse, followed by the procession of my school pictures up to last year's.

Those were embarrassing to look at-I would have to see if what I could do to get Charlie to put them somewhere else, at least while I was living here.

It was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie had never gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable.

I didn't want to be too early for school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore. I donned my jacket-which had the feel of a biohazard suit-and headed out into the rain.

It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately as I reached for the house key that was under the eaves by the door, and locked up. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. I missed the normal crunch of gravel as I walked. I couldn't pause and admire my truck again as I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out of the misty wet that swirled around my head and clung to my hair under my hood.

Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. The engine started quickly, to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, a plus I hadn't expected.

    "That's going to annoy Rose," Edward mumbled.

    "My daughter, Rosalie. She's a bit of a grease monkey." Carlisle explained to everyone. They had all been wearing varying expressions disbelief. Charlie couldn't picture any of the Cullens working on cars, except for maybe that big fellow with the curly hair.

Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-colored bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. Where was the feel of the institution? I wondered nostalgically. Where were the chain-link fences, the metal detectors?

I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading FRONT OFFICE. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot. I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were tree desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing a purple t-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed.

The red-haired woman looked up. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Isabella Swan," I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last.

"Of course," she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school."

She brought several sheets to the counter to show me.

She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and hoped, like Charlie, that I would like it here in Forks. I smiled back as convincingly as I could.

When I went back to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. At home I'd lived in one of the few lower-income neighborhoods that were included in the Paradise Valley District. It was a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was a shiny new Volvo, and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in the spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention to me.

I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now; hopefully I wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and sucked in a huge breath. I can do this, I lied to myself feebly. No one was going to bite me.

    "They'd better not," Billy said, glaring at the Cullens. Charlie wondered just what the hell that was about. He decided against confronting him though, as they had just had a fight over the Cullens, and he hoped this would be a way for them to mend fences.

I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck.

I kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers.

My plain black jacket didn't stand out, I noticed with relief.

Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A large black "3" was painted on a white square on the east corner. I felt my breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as I approached the door. I tried holding my breath as I followed two unisex raincoats through the door.

The classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-colored blonde, the other also pale, with light brown hair. At least my skin wouldn't be a standout here.

I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name-not an encouraging response-and of course I flushed tomato red. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. I'd already read everything. That was comforting...and boring.

I wondered if my mom would send me my folder of old essays, or if she would think that was cheating.

I went through different arguments with her in my head as the teacher droned on.

When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the isle to talk to me.

"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type.

"Bella," I corrected. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at me.

"Where's your next class?" he asked.

I had to check my bag. "Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building six."

There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes.

"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way..." Definitely over-helpful. "I'm Eric," he added.

I smiled tentatively. "Thanks."

We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't getting paranoid.

"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?" he asked.

"Very."

"It doesn't rain much there, does it?"

"Three or four times a year."

"Wow, what must that be like?" he wondered.

"Sunny," I told him.

"You don't look very tan."

"My mother is part albino."

He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didn't mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm.

We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.

"Well, good luck," he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together."

He sounded hopeful.

I smiled at him vaguely as I went inside.

The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat.

After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I tried to be diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot. At least I never needed the map.

One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my five feet four inches, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between our heights. I couldn't remember her name, so I smiled and nodded as she prattled about teachers and classes. I didn't try to keep up.

We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced to me. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me.

The boy from English, Eric, waved at me from across the room.

It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. They weren't gawking at me, unlike most of the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes.

But it was none of these things that caught, and held, my attention.

They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big-muscled like a serious weightlifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students.

The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw o n the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden, gently waving to t he middle of her back. The short girl was pixielike, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction.

And yet, they were all exactly alike. Every one of them was chalky pale, the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. Paler than me, the albino. They all had very dark eyes despite the range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes-purplish, bruise-like shadows. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, angular.

But all this is not why I couldn't look away.

I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful.

They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine.

Or painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful- maybe the perfect blonde girl, or the bronze-haired boy.

They were all looking away-away from each other, away from the other students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, the small girl rose with her tray-unopened soda, unbitten apple- and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed at her lithe dancer's step, till she dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who sat unchanging.

"Who are they?" I asked the girl from my Spanish class, whose name I'd forgotten.

As she looked up to see who I meant-though already knowing, probably, from my tone- suddenly he looked at her, the thinner one, the boyish one, the youngest, perhaps. He looked at my neighbor for just a fraction of a second, then his dark eyes flickered to mine.

He looked away, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance, his face held nothing of interest-it was as if she had called his name, and he'd looked up in an involuntary response, already having decided not to answer.

My neighbor giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did.

"That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said this under her breath.

I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening. The other three still looked away, and yet I felt he was speaking quietly to them.

Strange, unpopular names, I thought. The kind of names grandparents had. But maybe that was in vogue here-small town names? I finally remembered that my neighbor was called Jessica, a perfectly common name. There were two girls named Jessica in my History class back home.

"They are...very nice-looking," I struggled with the conspicuous understatement.

"Yes!" Jessica agreed with another giggle. "They're all together though-Emmet and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean-and they live together," her voice held all the shock and condemnation of a small town, I thought critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix, it would cause gossip.

"Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked. "They don't look related..."

"Oh they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins-the blondes-and they're foster children."

"They look a little old for foster children."

"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that."

"That's really kind of nice-for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything."

"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that she didn't like the doctor and his wife for some reason. With the glances she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though," she added, as if that lessened their kindness.

    "Terrible gossip, that girl, her mother is the same way. Dealing with her every time I deposit a check is an exercise in patience, " Charlie grumbled, irritated that no one seemed to have the courtesy to mind their own business.

Throughout all this conversation, my eyes flickered again and again to the table where the strange family sat. They continued to look at the walls and not eat.

"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked. Surely I would have noticed them on one of my summers here.

"No," she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

I felt a surge of pity, and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted. Relief that I wasn't the only newcomer here, and certainly not the most interesting by any standard.

As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up an met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.

"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?" I asked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other students had today-he had a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date.

Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when he'd turned her down.

I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at him again. His face was turned away, but I thought his cheek appeared lifted, as if he were smiling, too.

After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They were all noticeably graceful-even the big, brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn't look at me again.

I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would have if I'd been sitting alone.

I was anxious not to be late for class on my first day. One of my new acquaintances, who considerably reminded me that her name was Angela, had Biology II with me the next hour. We walked to class together in silence. She was shy, too.

When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbor. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the center aisle, I recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single open seat.

As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. Just as I passed, he suddenly went rigid in his seat. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face-it was hostile, furious. I looked away quickly, shocked, going red again. I stumbled over a book in the walkway and had to catch myself on the edge of a table. The girl sitting there giggled.

I'd noticed that his eyes were black-coal black.

Mr. Banner signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about introductions. I could tell we were going to get along. Of course, he had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by him , bewildered by the antagonistic stare he'd given me.

I didn't look up as I sat my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face like he smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my hair. It smelled like strawberries, the scent of my favorite shampoo. It seemed an innocent enough odor. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, making a dark curtain between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher.

Unfortunately the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I'd already studied. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down.

I couldn't stop myself from peeking occasionally through the screen of my hair at the strange boy next to me. During the whole class, he never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. This, too, he never relaxed. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin. He wasn't nearly as slight as he'd looked next to his burly brother.

The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for his tight fist to loosen? It never did; he continued to sit so still it looked like he wasn't breathing. What was wrong with him? Was this his normal behavior? I questioned my judgment on Jessica's bitterness at lunch today. Maybe she was not as resentful as I'd thought.

It couldn't have anything to do with me. He didn't know me from Eve.

I peeked up at him one more time, and regretted it. He was glaring down at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. As I flinched away from him, shrinking against my chair, the phrase if looks could kill suddenly ran through my mind.

At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose-he was much taller than I'd thought-his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.

    Everyone turned to look at Edward as though he knew where this animosity stemmed from. He looked pained, and Carlisle was speaking lowly to him, though Charlie could not hear what he said.

    Whatever it was, it must have helped as the boy seemed to calm marginally. Charlie continued to read, hoping to understand why the usually polite young man would behave this way.

I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It wasn't fair. I began packing up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up.

For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.

"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" a male voice asked.

I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully gelled into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. He obviously didn't think I smelled bad.

"Bella," I corrected him, with a smile.

"I'm Mike."

"Hi, Mike."

"Do you need help finding your next class?"

"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."

"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small.

We walked to class together; he was a chatterer-he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California till he was ten, so he knew how I felt about the sun. It turned out he was in my English class also. He was the nicest person I'd met today.

But as we were entering the gym, he asked, "So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that."

I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And, apparently, that wasn't Edward Cullen's usual behavior. I decided to play dumb.

"Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?" I asked artlessly.

"Yes," he said. "He looked like he was in pain or something."

"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to him."

"He's a weird guy." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

I smiled at him before walking through the girls' locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring. But it wasn't enough to ease my irritation.

The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress down for today's class. At home, only two years of P.E. were required. Here, P.E. was mandatory all for years. Forks was l iterally my personal hell on Earth.

I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering how many injuries I had sustained-and inflicted-playing volleyball, I felt faintly nauseated.

The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to my office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and colder. I wrapped my arms around myself.

When I walked into the office, I almost turned around and walked back out.

Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized again that tousled bronze hair. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free.

He was arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time-any other time.

I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the Biology room. The look on his face must have been another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to me.

The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling the papers on the desk, swirling my hair around my face. The girl who came in merely stepped to the desk, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out again. But Edward Cullen's back stiffened, and he slowly turned to glare at me-his face was absurdly handsome-with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist.

"Never mind, then," he said hastily in a voice like velvet. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And he turned on his heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door.

I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip.

"How did your first day go, dear?" the receptionist asked maternally.

"Fine," I lied, my voice weak. She didn't look convinced.

When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. It seemed like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this damp green hole. I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly. But soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life.

I headed back to Charlie's house, fighting tears the whole way there.

    "What the hell was that?" Charlie demanded, glaring angrily at Edward.

    "I'm sure it will explain further in the book, Charlie. Why don't we continue on and try to calm down? These events have yet to occur, and my son cannot possibly know why he may have acted in such an uncouth manner." Carlisle clearly wanted to know just as much as everyone else what had happened, but it was plain to see that his primary concern was his son's well being.

    "I apologize, sir. May I read next? I would like to know why I would treat a lady that way as well," Edward spoke directly to Charlie and surprised him with his sincerity. As he passed to book to him he warningly kept eye contact.

    Most of the teenage boys he had encountered were not as respectful and genuine. This uncharacteristic hostility was a shock, and Charlie wondered what could possibly cause anyone to treat his daughter this way.

Chapter Text

As Edward took the book from Charlie he couldn't manage to keep his thoughts from reeling at the implications of his behavior in the book. He knew that he would only behave as such in instances of sheer thirst. However, he could not fathom what about this girl could make him react so strongly that he could potentially reveal their secret.

The note had told them that their secret would be revealed in these books, and though the Quileutes knew already, he was most worried about Chief Swan. The stalwart man held an important role in their town and could potentially ruin the lives they had built for themselves here. Although it had warned him against running, he worried that it would be the only option to avoid the consequences of what may be brought to light today.

Turning the page to the second chapter, a note fell into Edward's lap.

Edward,

As much as I know it won't help, I'm going to tell you to relax.

You don't need to worry. I know, a shocking concept for you, but I mean it.

Charlie is a good man and will understand in due time.

The changes you will see in yourself in these books are good. Don't fight them.

Love, Ness

Edward had chosen to read the note aloud despite it being only addressed to him and was now regretting it as his father was hiding his amusement behind his usually calm demeanor.

They must know you very well to treat you with such cheek Carlisle mentally chuckled. He decided not to show that he'd heard.

"This chapter is titled Open Book." Edward tried to ignore the thoughts bombarding him from the rest of the men in the room. The Quileutes were now convinced that he was the hunter referred to in the prologue.

He chose to read on for answers.

The next day was better...and worse.

It was better because it wasn't raining yet, though the clouds were dense and opaque. It was easier because I knew what to expect of my day. Mike came to sit next to me in English, and walked me to my next class, with Chess Club Eric glaring at him all the while; that was flattering. People didn't look at me quite as much as they had yesterday. I sat with a big group at lunch that included Mike, Eric, Jessica and several other people whose names and faces I now remembered. I began to feel like I was treading water, instead of drowning in it.
It was worse because I was tired; I still couldn't sleep with the wind echoing around the house. It was worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trig when my hand wasn't raised and I had the wrong answer. It was miserable because I had to play volleyball, and the one time I didn't cringe out of the way of the ball, I hit my teammate in the head with it. And it was worse because Edward Cullen wasn't in school at all.
All morning I was dreading lunch, fearing his bizarre glares. Part of me wanted to confront him and demand to know what his problem was. While I was lying sleepless in my bed, I even imagined what I would say. But I knew myself too well to think I would really have the guts to do it. I made the Cowardly Lion look like the Terminator.
But when I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica- trying to keep my eyes from sweeping the place for him, and failing entirely- I saw that his four siblings of sorts were sitting together at the same table, and he was not with them.
Mike intercepted us and steered us to his table. Jessica seemed elated by the attention, and her friends quickly joined us. But as I tried to listen to their easy chatter, I was terribly uncomfortable, waiting nervously for the moment he would arrive. I hoped that he would simply ignore me when he came, and prove my suspicions false.
He didn't come, and as time passed I grew more and more tense.

"Where are you, Edward?" His father questioned him aloud, adding mentally that he hoped he hadn't left, as it would make his mother very sad.
"I'm unsure, hopefully, these books will tell us in due time." Edward attempted to reassure his father, though he believed that he may, in fact, have left if his behavior was an indication of what he suspected was the problem. It reminded him of previous incidents involving Emmett and a few unsuspecting innocents.

I walked to Biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, he still hadn't showed. Mike, who was taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walked faithfully by my side to class.

Edward suppressed a growl, feeling oddly protective of this strange girl. He knew the sorts of vile thoughts that ran through Mike Newton's head, and this girl, no girl, deserved to be debased in such a manor. He avoided his father's eyes, hearing his confusion at this reaction. He, himself, couldn't understand his reaction.

I held my breath at the door, but Edward Cullen wasn't there, either. I exhaled and went to my seat. Mike followed, talking about an upcoming trip to the beach. He lingered by my desk till the bell rang. Then he smiled at me wistfully and went to sit by a girl with braces and a bad perm. It looked like I was going to have to do something about Mike, and it wouldn't be easy. In a town like this, where everyone lived on top of everyone else, diplomacy was essential. I had never been enormously tactful; I had no practice dealing with overly friendly boys.

Wish it would stay that way Edward caught the thought drifting from a disgruntled Charlie. It seemed they'd all noticed the male attention Bella would be receiving when she arrived here in Forks. He couldn't understand why that thought appeared to upset him so. Ignoring his confusion for the moment, he continued to read.

I was relieved that I had the desk to myself, that Edward was absent. I told myself that repeatedly. But I couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason he wasn't there. It was ridiculous, and egotistical, to think that I could affect anyone that strongly. It was impossible. And yet I couldn't stop worrying that it was true.
When the school day was finally done, and the blush was fading out of my cheeks from the volleyball incident, I changed quickly back into my jeans and navy blue sweater. I hurried from the girls' locker room, pleased to find that I had successfully evaded my retriever friend for the moment. I walked swiftly out to the parking lot. It was crowded now with fleeing students. I got in my truck and dug through my bag to make sure I had what I needed.
Last night I'd discovered that Charlie couldn't cook much besides fried eggs and bacon. So I requested that I be assigned kitchen detail for the duration of my stay. He was willing enough to hand over the keys to the banquet hall. I also found out that he had no food in the house. So I had my shopping list and the cash from the jar labeled FOOD MONEY, and I was on my way to the Thriftway.
I gunned my deafening engine to life, ignoring the heads that turned in my direction, and backed carefully into a place in the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot. As I waited, trying to pretend that the earsplitting rumble was coming from someone else's car, I saw the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their car. It was the shiny new Volvo. Of course. I hadn't noticed their clothes before-I'd been too mesmerized by their faces. Now that I looked, it was obvious that they were all dressed exceptionally well; simply, but in clothes that subtly hinted at designer origins. With their remarkable good looks, the style with which they carried themselves, they could have worn dishrags and pulled it off. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. It didn't look as if it bought them any acceptance here.
No, I didn’t fully believe that. The isolation must be their desire; I couldn’t imagine any door that wouldn’t be opened by that degree of beauty.

She’s a very observant girl, Edward. It may be that she discovers what we are. Carlisle’s thoughts were slightly tinged with worry. Edward nodded his head almost imperceptibly. He agreed with his father, as did the Quileute men. They were surmising that Edward was attacking her in the prologue in order to keep their secrets, and the treaty would then be over. If it weren’t for the fact that they knew this girl, they would have been rejoicing at the thought of being rid of them once and for all. It sickened him, and he had to struggle to restrain himself from attacking them.

Edward composed himself, questioning his strong protective instincts toward this particular girl. He didn’t even know her yet.
They looked at my noisy truck as I passed them, just like everyone else. I kept my eyes straight forward and was relieved when I finally was free of the school grounds.
The Thriftway was not far from the school, just a few streets south, off the highway. It was nice to be inside the supermarket; it felt normal. I did the shopping at home, and I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly. The store was big enough inside that I couldn’t hear the tapping of the rain on the roof to remind me where I was.
When I got home, I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them in wherever I could find an open space. I hoped Charlie wouldn’t mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in marinade and balanced it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge.
When I was finished with that, I took my book bag upstairs. Before starting my homework, I changed into a pair of dry sweats, piled my damp hair up into a ponytail, and checked my e-mail for the first time. I had three messages.
“Bella,” my mom wrote…
Write me as soon as you get in, Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining?
I miss you already. I’m almost finished packing for Florida, but I can’t find
my pink blouse. Do you know where I put it? Phil says hi. Mom.

I sighed and went to the next. It was sent eight hours after the first.
“Bella,” she wrote…
Why haven’t you e-mailed me yet? What are you waiting for? Mom.

The last was from this morning.
Isabella,
If I haven’t heard from you by 5:30 p.m. today I’m calling Charlie.

I checked the clock. I still had an hour, but my mom was well known for jumping the gun.
Mom,
Calm down. I’m writing right now. Don’t do anything rash.
Bella.

I sent that, and began again.
Mom,
Everything is great. Of course it’s raining. I was waiting for something to write
about. School isn’t bad, just a little repetitive. I met some nice kids who sit by me
at lunch.
Your blouse is at the dry cleaners-you were supposed to pick it up Friday.
Charlie bought me a truck, can you believe it? I love it. It’s old, but really sturdy,
which is good, you know, for me.
I miss you, too. I’ll write again soon, but I’m not going to check my e-mail every
five minutes. Relax, breathe. I love.
Bella.

Sounds like Renee hasn’t changed much Billy Black’s thoughts were mildly derisive.
Edward had heard the story of Chief Swan’s divorce from the minds of several children at Forks High who were consumed with thoughts of what Isabella Swan would be like when she arrived. Would she be like her father, the no-nonsense, reserved man, or would she be like her impetuous mother? He guessed that, based on her mindset so far, she sounded much like her father.
Isabella’s interactions with her mother concerned Carlisle; he could hear his father worrying over the girl’s wellbeing. She seems to have been forced to be the responsible one, Edward. Hopefully staying with Charlie will give her the opportunity to be a child while she still has time. He could only nod imperceptibly in agreement as he continued with the chapter.

I had decided to read Wuthering Heights -the novel we were currently studying in English-yet again for the fun of it, and that’s what I was doing when Charlie came home. I’d lost track of the time, and I hurried downstairs to take the potatoes out and put the steak in to broil.
“Bella?” my father called out when he heard me on the stairs.
Who else? I thought to myself.
“Hey, Dad, welcome home.”
“Thanks.” He hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I bustled about the kitchen. As far as I was aware, he’d never shot the gun on the job. But he kept it ready. When I came here as a child, he would always remove the bullets as soon as he walked in the door. I guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident, and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked warily. My mother was an imaginative cook, and her experiments weren’t always edible. I was surprised, and sad, that he seemed to remember that far back.
“Steak and potatoes,” I answered, and he looked relieved.
He seemed to feel awkward standing in the kitchen doing nothing; he lumbered into the living room to watch TV while I worked. We were both more comfortable that way. I made a salad while the steaks cooked, and set the table.
I called him in when dinner was ready, and he sniffed appreciatively as he walked into the room.
“Smells good, Bell.”
“Thanks.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Neither of us was bothered by the quiet. In some ways, we were well suited for living together.
“So, how did you like school? Have you made any friends?” he asked as he was taking seconds.
“Well, I have a few classes with a girl named Jessica. I sit with her friends at lunch. And, there’s this boy, Mike, who’s very friendly. Everybody seems pretty nice.” With one outstanding exception.
“That must be Mike Newton. Nice kid-nice family. His dad owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. He makes a good living off all the backpackers who come through here.”
“Do you know the Cullen family?” I asked hesitantly.
“Dr. Cullen’s family? Sure. Dr. Cullen’s a great man.”
“They...the kids...are a little different. They don’t seem to fit in very well at school.”
Charlie surprised me by looking angry.
“People in this town,” he muttered. “Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here,” he continued, getting louder. “We’re lucky to have him-lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town. He’s an asset to the community, and all of those kids are well behaved and polite. I had my doubts, when they first moved in, with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have some problems with them. But they’re all very mature-I haven’t had one speck of trouble from any of them. That’s more than I can say for the children of some folks who have lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should-camping trips every other weekend...Just because they’re newcomers, people have to talk.”

Charlie’s face was turning a mottled red, and Edward knew that, were it possible, Carlisle would also be blushing. With the embarrassment flooding his mind, Edward was finding it difficult to clearly hear what the Chief was thinking, picking up only every other word or image. He had never come across anyone whose mind was impossible to read, and Chief Swan, whilst difficult, was not entirely closed off to him. He found it an interesting distraction from the thoughts of the other men.. Billy had already heard a form of this rant of Charlie’s and was unsurprised, but Harry and Quil had had no idea how strongly Charlie felt, and were convinced that their family had done something to influence his mind.
“Thank you, Charlie. That’s very kind of you to say. I appreciate your sticking up for my family.” Carlisle had finally managed a response, and Edward could hear the emotion in his voice.
“Don’t mention it,” Charlie stuttered out, still blushing a vibrant red. “Why don’t you keep on reading there, Edward.”

Chapter Text

Edward was quick to continue with the chapter, hoping to dissolve some of the awkward tension in the room from having heard Charlie’s impassioned defense of his family. He also wanted to understand what it was about this girl that caused him to react to strongly.
In all of his 104 years, he had never been one to run away from a threat, so what was so special about Isabella Swan? And why was he feeling so protective of her? There was no reason for Edward to wish to keep her away from the petty, shallow children of Forks High. Mike Newton’s lascivious thoughts about the female population of their school was none of his concern.

It was the longest speech I’d ever heard Charlie make. He must feel strongly about whatever people were saying.
I backpedaled. “They seemed nice enough to me. I just noticed they kept to themselves. They’re all very attractive,” I added, trying to be more complimentary.
“You should see the doctor,” Charlie said, laughing. “It’s a good thing he’s happily married. A lot of the nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him around.”

This is getting ridiculous Old Quil Ateara was starting to wonder if this was going to be worth sitting through all the pro-Cullen nonsense to figure out what this Ness person wanted from them. The rest of the Quileute elders were thinking along a similar vein, and poor Charlie just wanted the book to move on from his personal thoughts and feelings.

We lapsed back into silence as we finished eating. He cleared the table while I started on the dishes. He went back to the TV, and after I finished washing the dishes by hand-no dishwasher-I went upstairs unwillingly to work on my math homework. I could feel a tradition in the making.
That night it was finally quiet. I fell asleep quickly, exhausted.
The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes. By Friday I was able to recognize, if not name, almost all the students at school. In Gym, the kids on my team learned not to pass me the ball and to step quickly in front of me if the other team tried to take advantage of my weakness. I happily stayed out of their way.
Edward Cullen didn’t come back to school.

“Edward, where are you?” Carlisle was truly worried for his son. “This behavior is so unlike you.”
“It’s irresponsible to miss so much school, young man. You’ll never get into a good college that way,” Charlie was attempting to lighten the mood. He, too, was concerned what could cause such a prolonged absence.
“I’ll remember that, sir,” Edward pretended to chuckle to ease their minds. “I hope this eventually explains where I’ve gone.”
I hope he never comes back Edward suppressed a growl at hearing Billy Black’s churlish mental remark, and continued to read.

Every day, I watched anxiously until the rest of the Cullens entered the cafeteria without him. Then I could relax and join in the lunchtime conversation. Mostly it centered around a trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks that Mike was putting together. I was invited, and I had agreed to go, more out of politeness than desire. Beaches should be hot and dry.
By Friday I was perfectly comfortable entering my Biology class, no longer worried that Edward would be there. For all I knew, he had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about him, but I couldn’t totally suppress the worry that I was responsible for his continued absence, ridiculous as it seemed.
My first weekend in Forks passed without incident. Charlie, unused to spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend. I cleaned the house, got ahead on my homework, and wrote my mom more bogusly cheerful e-mail. I did drive to the library Saturday, but it was so poorly stocked that I didn’t bother to get a card; I would have to make a date to visit Olympia or Seattle soon and find a good bookstore. I wondered idly what kind of gas mileage the truck got...and shuddered at the thought.
The rain stayed soft over the weekend, quiet, so I was able to sleep well.
People greeted me in the parking lot Monday morning. I didn’t know all their names, but I waved back and smiled at everyone. It was colder this morning, but happily not raining. In English, Mike took his accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights. It was straightforward, very easy.
All in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable than I had thought I would feel by this point. More comfortable than I had ever expected to feel here.

The strength of emotion that Edward could hear coming from Charlie was poignant. A hesitant hopefulness was welling up inside him. He’d been cautious with expressing outwardly how much he wanted his daughter to stay with him. Isabella had made her disdain of Forks well known in the past, and Charlie had surrendered to her complaints and spending time with her elsewhere. However, hearing that she was feeling comfortable living here with him was making him hope for a connection with his daughter that he felt had been missing previously.
Everyone else in the room was also feeling optimistic on Charlie’s behalf; Billy knew better than anyone how much Charlie missed seeing his daughter grow up, and wanted so badly for this to work out. The only thing they could see getting in the way of his happiness was the girl’s apparent fascination with the bronze haired Cold One.
Carlise’s thoughts were the hardest for Edward to hear, as he was comparing Charlie’s excitement over Isabella’s homecoming to his elation when Edward himself had returned from his rebellious phase so many years ago. He did not agree with Carlisle’s comparison, for Edward believed that he should have known better than to go off in the first place. Isabella Swan could never be compared to a monster such as himself.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. The wind bit at my cheeks, my nose.
“Wow,” Mike said. “It’s snowing.”
I looked at the little cotton fluffs that were building up along the sidewalk and swirling erratically past my face.
”Ew.” Snow. There went my day.
He looked surprised. “Don’t you like snow?”
“No. That means it’s too cold for rain.” Obviously. “Besides, I thought it was supposed to come down in flakes-you know, each one unique and all that. These just look like the ends of Q-tips.”
“Haven’t you ever seen snow fall before?” he asked incredulously.
“Sure I have.” I paused. “On TV.”
Mike laughed. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of his head. We both turned to see where it came from. I had my suspicions about Eric, who was walking away, his back toward us-in the wrong direction for his next class. Mike apparently had the same notion. He bent over and began scraping together a pile of white mush.
“I’ll see you at lunch, okay?” I kept walking as I spoke. “Once people start throwing wet stuff, I go inside.”
He just nodded, his eyes on Eric’s retreating figure.
Throughout the morning, everyone chattered excitedly about the snow; apparently it was the first snowfall of the new year. I kept my mouth shut. Sure, it was drier than rain-until it melted in your socks.
I walked alertly to the cafeteria with Jessica after Spanish. Mush balls were flying everywhere. I kept a binder in my hands, ready to use it as a shield if necessary. Jessica thought I was hilarious, but something in my expression kept her from lobbing a snowball at me herself.
Mike caught up to us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting the spikes in his hair. He and Jessica were talking animatedly about the snow fight as we got in line to buy food. I glanced toward the table in the corner out of habit. And then I froze where I stood. There were five people at the table.

Thank goodness you’re back Carlisle practically shouted mentally at Edward, I was so worried that you may have decided to leave us again.
Edward was glad to hear that he had come back as well. He was hoping to unravel the mystery that was his response to her the first day she arrived.
“Looks like I won’t have to put out an APB for you, kid,” Charlie joked.
Harry, Billy, and Quil forced out laughs. They believed that Charlie would soon see that his faith in them was misplaced, and were only waiting for him to discover the truth.

Jessica pulled on my arm.
“Hello? Bella? What do you want?”
I looked down; my ears were hot. I had no reason to feel self-conscious, I reminded myself. I hadn’t done anything wrong.
“What’s with Bella?” Mike asked Jessica.
“Nothing,” I answered. “I’ll just get a soda today.” I caught up to the end of the line.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Jessica asked.
“Actually, I feel a little sick,” I said, my eyes still on the floor.
I waited for them to get their food, and then followed them to a table, my eyes on my feet.
I sipped soda slowly, my stomach churning. Twice Mike asked, with unnecessary concern, how I was feeling. I told him it was nothing, but I was wondering if I should play it up and escape to the nurse’s office for the next hour.
Ridiculous. I shouldn’t have to run away.
I decided to permit myself one glance at the Cullen family’s table. If he was glaring at me, I would skip Biology, like the coward I was.
I kept my head down and glanced up under my lashes. None of them were looking this way. I lifted my head a little.
They were laughing. Edward, Jasper, and Emmett all had their hair entirely saturated with melting snow. Alice and Rosalie were leaning away as Emmett shook his dripping hair toward them. They were enjoying the snowy day, just like everyone else-only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.
But, aside from the laughter and playfulness, there was something different, and I couldn’t quite pinpoint what that difference was. I examined Edward the most carefully. His skin was less pale, I decided-flushed from the snow fight maybe- the circles under his eyes much less noticeable. But there was something more. I pondered, staring, trying to isolate the change.
“Bella, what are you staring at?” Jessica intruded, her eyes following my stare.
At that precise moment, his eyes flashed over to meet mine.
I dropped my head, letting my hair fall to conceal my face. I was sure, though, in the instant our eyes met, that he didn’t look harsh or unfriendly as he had the last time I’d seen him. He looked merely curious again, unsatisfied in some way.

Curious and unsatisfied? What could that possibly mean? Waiting to read what was happening at a human pace was driving Edward mad. This was his life he was reading about!
You must calm yourself Edward, the chapter is almost finished and we will be able to hear what’s happening soon Carlisle mentally attempted to soothe him.
Breathing shallowly, Edward tried to relax. He didn’t want to unintentionally frighten Chief Swan. This Ness person had claimed their secret would be revealed in these books, so they needed to ensure the positive impression the Chief had of them wasn’t tarnished. He would just need to dig deep for patience.

”Edward Cullen is staring at you,” Jessica giggled in my ear.
“He doesn’t look angry, does he?” I couldn’t help asking.
“No,” she said, sounding confused by my question. “Should he be?”
“I don’t think he likes me,” I confided. I still felt queasy. I put my head down on my arm.
“The Cullens don’t like anybody...well, they don’t notice anybody enough to like them. But he’s still staring at you.”
”Stop looking at him,” I hissed.
She snickered, but she looked away. I raised my head enough to make sure that she did, contemplating violence if she resisted.
Mike interrupted us then- he was planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school and wanted us to jon. Jessica agreed enthusiastically. The way she looked at Mike left little doubt that she would be up for anything he suggested. I kept silent. I would have to hide in the gym until the parking lot cleared.
For the rest of the lunch hour I very carefully kept my eyes at my own table. I decided to honor the bargain I’d made with myself. Since he didn’t look angry, I would go to Biology. My stomach did frightened little flips at the thought of sitting next to him again.
I didn’t really want to walk to class with Mike as usual- he seemed to be a popular target for the snowball snipers- but when we went to the door, everyone besides me groaned in unison. It was raining, washing all traces of the snow away in clear, icy ribbons down the side of the walkway. I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased. I would be free to go straight home after Gym.
Mike kept up a string of complaints on the way to building four.
Once inside the classroom, I saw with relief that my table was still empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn’t start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, doodling idly on the cover of my notebook.
I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but my eyes stayed carefully focused on the pattern I was drawing.
“Hello,” said a quiet, musical voice.
I looked up, stunned that he was speaking to me. He was sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but his chair was angled toward me. His hair was dripping wet, disheveled-even so, he looked like he’d just finished shooting a commercial for hair gel. His dazzling face was friendly, open, a slight smile on his flawless lips. But his eyes were careful.
“My name is Edward Cullen,” he continued. “I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan.”
My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? He was perfectly polite now. I had to speak; he was waiting. But I couldn’t think of anything conventional to say.
“H-how do you know my name?” I stammered.
He laughed a soft, enchanting laugh.
“Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town’s been waiting for you to arrive.”
I grimaced. I knew it was something like that.
“No,” I persisted stupidly. “I meant, why did you call me Bella?”
He seemed confused. “Do you prefer Isabella?”
“No, I like Bella,” I said. “But I think Charlie-I mean my dad-must call me Isabella behind my back- that’s what everyone here seems to know me as,” I tried to explain, feeling like an utter moron.
“Oh.” He let it drop. I looked away awkwardly.
Thankfully, Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren’t supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right.
“Get started,” he commanded.
“Ladies first, partner?” Edward asked. I looked up to see him smiling a crooked smile so beautiful that I could only stare at him like an idiot.

Despite hearing similar thoughts from the minds of others over the years, and knowing that his kind were designed to attract humans as prey, Edward could only find himself feeling inordinately pleased to read that this particular human thought him so. Humans would always subconsciously be both drawn to and repulsed by his otherness. It was the stark reminder of this otherness that he used to keep himself from ever forgetting that he would never be anything other than a monster. Why, then, would he secretly be almost...joyful..at the idea of this specific one finding him attractive?
These burgeoning feelings for Isabella were driving him to near distraction. He wished that he could simply jump ahead to learn if he will ever understand this growing desire inside him.

”Or I could start, if you wish.” The smile faded; he was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent.
“No,” I said, flushing. “I’ll go ahead.”
I was showing off, just a little. I’d already done this lab, and I knew what I was looking for. It should be easy. I snapped the first slide into place under the microscope and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective. I studied the slide briefly.
My assessment was confident. “Prophase.”
“Do you mind if I look?” he asked as I began to remove the slide. His hand caught mine, to stop me, as he asked. His fingers were ice-cold, like he’d been holding them in a snowdrift before class. But that wasn’t why I jerked my hand away so quickly. When he touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, pulling his hand back immediately. However, he continued to reach for the microscope. I watched him, still staggered, as he examined the slide for an even shorter time than I had.
“Prophase,” he agreed, writing it neatly in the first space on our worksheet. He swiftly switched out the first slide for the second, and then glanced at it cursorily.
“Anaphase,” he murmured, writing it down as he spoke.
I kept my voice indifferent. “May I?”
He smirked and pushed the microscope to me.
I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, only to be disappointed. Dang it, he was right.

For the first time since arriving at the Swan residence, Edward began to genuinely laugh in earnest. He was pleased to notice that the Chief was also chuckling at his daughter’s thoughts.
It felt nice to share in a moment of brevity with someone outside of his family. Edward rarely got to experience bonding of any sort with humans; it was generally avoided to prevent any risk to their secret.

”Slide three?” I held out my hand without looking at him.
He handed it to me; it seemed like he was being careful not to touch my skin again.
I took the most fleeting look I could manage.
“Interphase.” I passed him the microscope before he could ask for it. He took a swift peek, and then wrote it down. I would have written it while he looked, but his clear, elegant script intimidated me. I didn’t want to spoil the page with my clumsy scrawl.
We were finished before anyone else was close. I could see Mike and his partner comparing two slides again and again, and another group had their book open under the table.
Which left me with nothing to do but try not to look at him...unsuccessfully. I glanced up, and he was staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes. Suddenly I identified that subtle difference in his face.
“Did you get contacts?” I blurted out unthinkingly.
He seemed puzzled by my unexpected question. “No.”
“Oh,” I mumbled. “I thought there was something different about your eyes.”
He shrugged, and looked away.
In fact, I was sure there was something different. I vividly remembered the flat black color of his eyes the last time he’d glared at me-the color was striking against the background of his pale skin and his auburn hair. Today, his eyes were a completely different color: a strange ocher, darker than butterscotch, but was the same golden tone. I didn’t understand how that could be, unless he was lying for some reason about the contacts. Or maybe Forks was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word.

Charlie was starting to put together some of the differences that he had noticed himself with what his daughter was thinking. Edward wasn't catching every thought, but was beginning to worry that there were more similarities between the two of them than just their clumsiness. There was a reason Charlie Swan had become Chief of Police for the town of Forks, and it seemed that Isabella had inherited his deductive reasoning.

I looked down. His hands were clenched into hard fists again.
Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren’t working. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, and then stared more intently to check the answers.
“So, Edward, didn’t you think Isabella should get a chance with the microscope?” Mr. Banner asked.
“Bella,” Edward corrected automatically. “Actually, she identified three of the five.”
Mr. Banner looked at me now; his expression was skeptical.
“Have you done this lab before?” he asked.
I smiled sheepishly. “Not with onion root.”
“Whitefish blastula?”
“Yeah.”
Mr. Banner nodded. “Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” he said after a moment, “I guess it’s good you two are lab partners.” He mumbled something else as he walked away. After he left, I began doodling on my notebook again.
“It’s too bad about the snow, isn’t it?” Edward asked. I had the feeling that he was forcing himself to make small talk with me. Paranoia swept over me again. It was like he had heard my conversation with Jessica at lunch and was trying to prove me wrong.

Smart girl. Always be suspicious of Cold Ones. Edward was too shocked at her perceptiveness to be upset by the smug thoughts of Quil Ateara.
Edward, I believe that Isabella may be the one who discovers what we are. She notices everything. Carlisle was having trouble keeping his shock from showing on his face. He was also impressed with her intelligence, and Edward could not begrudge him that for he was also feeling a growing respect for her intellect.
The story had also mentioned his inexplicable frustration whilst staring at her again, and he was beginning to wonder if her thoughts were as disjointed for him to put together as her father’s. It would make sense, however it would make two people for whom he had difficulty getting a clear reading on. Just another thing to add to the list of things the girl may share with the Chief.

"Not really," I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else. I was still trying to dislodge the stupid feeling of suspicion, and I couldn't concentrate.
"You don't like the cold." It wasn't a question.
"Or the wet."
"Forks must be a difficult place for you to live," he mused.
"You have no idea," I muttered darkly.
He looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn't imagine. His face was such a distraction that I tried not to look at it any more than courtesy absolutely demanded.
"Why did you come here, then?"
No one had asked me that-not straight out like he did, demanding.
"It's...complicated."
"I think I can keep up," he pressed.
I paused for a long moment, and then made the mistake of meeting his gaze. His dark gold eyes confused me, and I answered without thinking.
"My mother got remarried," I said.
"That doesn't sound so complex," he disagreed, but he was suddenly sympathetic. "When did that happen?"
"Last September," my voice sounded sad, even to me.
"And you don't like him," Edward surmised, his tone still kind.
"No, Phil is fine. Too young, maybe, but nice enough."
"Why didn't you stay with them?"
I couldn't fathom his interest, but he continued to stare at me with penetrating eyes, as if my dull life's story was somehow vitally important.
"Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living." I half-smiled.
"Have I heard of him?" he asked, smiling in response.
"Probably not. He doesn't play well. Strictly minor league. He moves around a lot."
"And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him." He said it as an assumption again, not a question.
My chin raised a fraction. "No, she did not send me here. I sent myself."
His eyebrows knit together. "I don't understand," he admitted, and he seemed unnecessarily frustrated by that fact.
I sighed. Why was I explaining this to him? He continued to stare at me with obvious curiosity.
"She stayed with me at first, but she missed him. It made her unhappy...so I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Charlie." My voice was glum by the time I finished.
"But now you're unhappy," he pointed out.
"And?" I challenged.
"That doesn't seem fair." He shrugged, but his eyes were still intense.
I laughed without humor. "Hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair."
"I believe I have heard that somewhere before," he agreed dryly.
"So that's all," I insisted, wondering why he was still staring at me that way.
His gaze became appraising. "You put on a good show," he said slowly. "But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."
I grimaced at him, resisting the impulse to stick out my tongue like a five-year-old, and looked away.
"Am I wrong?"
I tried to ignore him.
"I didn't think so," he murmured smugly.

"Edward," Carlisle said sharply. "You have better manners than that."
"You're right. I'm not usually so rude," Edward agreed, turning to face Charlie. "I'm sorry, Charlie. Your daughter deserves to be treated respectfully, and I will endeavor to be more so in the future."
He ignored the internal interruptions of the Quileute elders. They were not so easy to believe a Cold One could ever have manners or be respectful of human life. This was not unusual to hear from them.
"I'll hold you to that, kid. She's a spunky one, though, so I wouldn't be surprised if she did eventually stick out her tongue at you for it," Charlie chuckled. "She's a spitfire; gets it from her mother."
"I'll try to remember that," Edward was surprised at the easiness of the rapport he was building with Chief Swan. He was enjoying the comfortable comradery.

"Why does it matter to you?" I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher make his rounds.
"That's a very good question," he muttered, so quietly that I wondered if he was talking to himself. However, after a few seconds of silence, I decided that was the only answer I was going to get.
I sighed, scowling at the blackboard.
"Am I annoying you?" he asked. He sounded amused.
I glanced at him without thinking...and told the truth again. "Not exactly. I'm more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read-my mother always calls me her open book." I frowned.
"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read." Despite everything that I'd said and he'd guessed, he sounded like he meant it.
"You must be a good reader then," I replied.
"Usually." He smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultrawhite teeth.
Mr. Banner called the class to order then, and I turned with relief to listen. I was in disbelief that I'd just explained my dreary life to this bizarre, beautiful boy who may or may not despise me. He seemed engrossed in our conversation, but now I could see, from the corner of my eye, that he was leaning away from me again, his hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakable tension.
I tried to appear attentive as Mr. Banner illustrated, with transparencies on the overhead projector, what I had seen without difficulty through the microscope. But my thoughts were unmanageable.

Edward shared a look with his father, they had both heard for the last few moments that the mens' stomachs were growling in hunger. They had been at the Swan residence for a few hours and it seemed that lunch time had snuck up on them.
"Gentlemen, might I suggest that once we finish this chapter we adjourn for lunch," Carlisle broached the topic delicately.
"That's a great idea, Doc. I can order some pizzas and we can take a break. I need to stretch my legs anyway. What do you say guys?" Charlie suggested.
Before they could voice the protests to eating with them that Edward could hear them thinking, Carlisle's cell phone rang.
"Pardon me, I'll be back in a moment," his father demurred as he walked into the kitchen to answer.
Edward could hear clearly as he picked up that it was Alice on the phone. She had seen the potential fight that could break out amongst Charlie and his friends due to their lunch issue, and had told him to say that there had been an issue at home they would need to attend to once they'd finished the chapter. Carlisle thanked her for the warning and headed back into the living area.
"I'm sorry to say that Edward and I will have to head home for our lunch. My wife needs my help with some remodeling she's doing in my study, but we'll return at around two o'clock. That should give everyone plenty of time," Carlisle had developed a reason that wasn't so emergent that they would need to leave immediately.
"That's no problem. One less pizza to order," Charlie was in no way suspicious of their need to leave. Edward heard Quil mutter under his breath that they would rather eat them, and suppressed a growl. He was ready to have a break from their vitriolic thoughts.
"I'll continue then," he picked up the book and turned back to the page they'd left off on.

When the bell finally rang, Edward rushed as swiftly and as gracefully from the room as he had last Monday. And, like last Monday, I stared after him in amazement.
Mike skipped quickly to my side and picked up my books for me. I imagined him with a wagging tail.
"That was awful," he groaned. "They all looked exactly the same. You're lucky you had Cullen for a partner."
"I didn't have any trouble with it," I said, stung by his assumption. I regretted the snub instantly. "I've done the lab before, though," I added before he could get his feelings hurt.
"Cullen seemed friendly enough today," he commented as we shrugged into our raincoats. He didn't seem pleased about it.
I tried to sound indifferent. "I wonder what was with him last Monday."
I couldn't concentrate on Mike's chatter as we walked to Gym, and P.E. didn't do much to hold my attention, either. Mike was on my team today. He chivalrously covered my position as well as his own, so my woolgathering was only interrupted when it was my turn to serve; my team ducked warily out of the way every time I was up.
The rain was just a mist as I walked to the parking lot, but I was happier when I was in the dry cab. I got the heater running, for once not caring about the mind-numbing roar of engine. I unzipped my jacket, put the hood down, and fluffed my damp hair out so the heater could dry it on the way home.
I looked around me to make sure it was clear. That's when I noticed the still, white figure. Edward Cullen was leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from me, and staring intently in my direction. I swiftly looked away and threw the truck into reverse, almost hitting the rusty Toyota Corolla in my haste. Lucky for the Toyota, I stomped on the break in time. It was just the sort of car that my truck would make scrap metal of. I took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again, with greater success. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but from a peripheral peek, I would swear I saw him laughing.

"That's the end of this chapter," he said as he closed the book.
"We'll head out, then, and we'll see you gentlemen at two," Carlisle stood and and dusted off the invisible wrinkles in his clothes. It was a trick they had picked up to make humans more comfortable. Fidgeting was normal.
"I'll walk you out. I've got to go call about those pizzas anyway," Charlie got up and headed for the door.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Charlie."
"My pleasure, I just hope these books let us know that my girl will be okay.
"I truly hope so."
"Goodbye, Charlie," Edward interjected.
"See you in a bit, Edward."
They headed for his father's Mercedes and drove at a regular, human pace until they were far enough out of sight.
Hopefully, Alice would have more information about this whole situation. She and Jasper had been out hunting when the package arrived, and he'd like to know if she'd seen anything.

Chapter Text

As they pulled up the drive, Edward could already hear his family’s anxious wonderings about the contents of the package they’d received that morning. The letter had stated that only he and Carlisle were to begin the reading with Chief Swan and the Quileute Elders, and the rest of the family had been understandably frustrated by the exclusion. Alice had been particularly flustered by the lack of information. She hadn’t been able to see anything pertaining to its contents in her visions.

Esme met Carlisle at the door, her thoughts full of relief and curiosity. His siblings were all gathered in the living room, some of them rather impatiently.

“Well?” Rosalie demanded, glaring at Edward as though he somehow was the reason she was not involved.

“Now, Rosie, Eddie will tell us. Won’t you, Eddie?” Emmett put his arm around his wife, hoping to calm her down.

Edward could feel a sense of calm seeping into him and nodded to Jasper. He appreciated the interference. The false feeling of calm was helping him in his attempt to ignore the confusion he’d been struggling with since they had started that book. He didn’t understand his growing fascination with Isabella Swan, and wasn’t ready to face what it might mean.

“Children, settle down,” Carlisle spoke, coming further into the room as if to separate them. “We must discuss this as a family. There was a letter inside the package from some person named Ness along with four books. The letter said that the books were about our futures once Charlie Swan’s daughter arrives in Forks. It also said that our secret would be revealed to them as we read through the books.”

“Carlisle, you have to see that this is outrageous. If the Volturi discovers that we’ve shared our secret with these humans, we'll be killed. We can not do this!” Rosalie was livid.

“We still have a few more years here and I refuse to move so soon.”

“Rosalie, according to the letter there are future events that can be prevented if we allow these men to know.”

“As it is, the Quileute men are already aware of what we are. They practically scream it in their minds every time they see us. Chief Swan is starting to notice that we are different, but he’s more concerned about the potential danger to his daughter. The way the first book started, she was being stalked by a hunter; a hunter with 'dark' eyes,” Edward cut in, interrupting Carlisle. He knew that Rosalie wouldn’t care about a single, random human being threatened, but if that threat were to also risk their way of life then she might see reason. “Clearly, if Bella Swan is being hunted by one of our kind after moving to Forks, then our family will be somehow involved.”

Bella? Esme was intrigued by the way he had spoken her name. Could he be showing interest in someone after all this time?

Ignoring his mother’s interest, Edward honed in on Alice. She immediately started singing some inane pop song in an attempt to block him, but he had already seen enough.

“There’s another letter?” He questioned her, earning a warning glance from Jasper for his forceful attitude.

“It came while you were gone, and we weren’t supposed to read it without you,” she pulled it from her back pocket. “I may have read it first.” I couldn’t stand not knowing anything She gave him a look, begging him to forgive her. He sighed; one doesn’t stay angry with Alice for long.

“Come on, Alice! What does it say?” Emmett was getting impatient with all the arguing.

Cullen Family

Patience is a virtue, you know. You would think that
after all these years you would be used to waiting. Time
will show that what we are doing here is important.
Rose, you know that the Quileute tribe are aware of
your secret, and you will see that Charlie Swan is a kind
and trustworthy man. He will tell no one. Have faith.
Emmett, you know Edward hates being called Eddie.
Stop antagonizing him. There will be plenty more you will
want to tease him for later.
Jasper, Alice is in no danger. The Swan family will be
very important to her, so please relax and stop plotting their
potential murders.
Esme, your family will be fine. They will be happy, safe, and
loved. I am trying to ensure they go through no unwanted suffering.
You will be allowed to read these books together once Carlisle
and Edward have finished. They can give you each one as they
are through. Alice, your visions don’t work on these books
because they don’t technically exist yet and trying will only cause
headaches.

Love, Ness

Chapter Text

Reactions to the contents of the note were a mix between cautious acceptance and outright distrust. 

"This is ridiculous! Who is this Ness person anyway? How could they know us and how we feel about anything?" The most vocal, both mentally and verbally, was unsurprisingly Rosalie. Her fear of exposure and the potential to lose her family was so strong that Edward could feel it without Jasper's abilities.

" Headaches ? Please be careful, Alice," Esme had been shocked to hear that any of her children could be in pain. She was willing to trust this Ness person if it meant her family didn't need to suffer. Alice, however, was more perturbed than anything else. She was unused to not knowing the potential outcomes of any given situation and didn't like feeling as though she wouldn't be useful.

"Relax, babe. This is great. We get to know the future at the same time as Alleycat over there for once, and some embarrassing stuff happens to Ed boy. I can't wait!" Emmett reacted in the exact way that Edward had anticipated. With exception to the atrocious nicknames, Edward was genuinely grateful for his brother's interjection. Rosalie still wasn't sure about the situation, but she had relaxed some. 

The person that most worried him now was Jasper. He had stopped actively planning to interfere, but the intent to act on a moment's notice remained clear in his mind. His mate's safety would always be Jasper's first priority. Edward respected that, though something inside him railed at the thought of Isabella Swan being harmed. 

"We will have to trust Ness until we have reason to believe they mean us any harm. They seem to only have our best interests in mind for now. I will tell Chief Swan of this letter when we go back after a suitable amount of time has passed for lunch. Until then, please try to remain calm and do no harm to any of the humans involved," Carlisle was firm in his decision, and it eased most of the remaining tension in the room. 

Rosalie stomped off to the garage in a huff, Emmett a few steps behind her. Working on her M3 would keep her mind on other things until we had more news. Hopefully, his Vanquish would remain unharmed in her ire. Edward was usually the target of Rose's angry outbursts due to his innate ability to get under her skin.

He could hear Jasper reevaluating his strategies in his mind; he would wait for more information before acting, however, it was clear that he was still set on his original plan of action. Were it to become unsafe for his mate, Jasper would do whatever necessary to remedy the situation. 

"Jasper, I will not allow them to come to harm over something that we can not control," Edward could feel him testing his resolve and knew he would find no indecision. He realized that he would fight his family for this girl he had never even met. The thought chilled him, though the idea of her being killed was unconscionable.

Protecting her had become his only thought since reading of the red-eyed hunter prowling around her. He hoped to understand why she had become so important to him as they got further into the book. 

"Stop it, Jazz. Edward is serious about this and I don't want to keep having visions of the two of you fighting. I can't see what we'll learn from these books, but I can see what you're plotting, and I would like to know what happens in the future without interference." Reattaching limbs is not how I want to spend my evening, Edward. Alice glared at them both until they backed down.

Jasper allowed Alice to drag him up the stairs to their room, the confrontation put on hold for now. Edward knew that this would come up again later, he only hoped that it would not result in a physical altercation. He may be able to hear his opponent's next move, but Jasper was a formidable foe in even the mock fights they had for fun. It would not be easy to stop him.

They would need to return to Chief Swan's house soon, and Edward found himself looking forward to it. Discovering the source behind the draw he felt towards this human girl had seemed to become an obsession for him. Isabella Swan was an anomaly. An enigma that he needed to understand more than he needed anything else that he could remember in his long life. 

Sitting down to his piano for the first time in an ashamedly long time, he began to run through the scales, ensuring that it was still perfectly tuned. Music had been Edward's salvation and escape for the last eighty-odd years, and as he played through the beginning notes of the tune he had composed for his mother it felt like he was greeting an old friend. He vowed to not go so long without playing again.

Chapter Text

Closing the door as the doctor and his son walked through the drizzle to their Mercedes, Charlie couldn't help but think of the things he had noticed about the two Cullen men. Seeing that his daughter would also notice them had brought them into stark relief in his mind. He refused to jump to conclusions yet, but he knew he would need to keep a better eye on the differences he saw.

He could hear Billy and Quil conversing in hushed tones as he neared the living room. Harry had already gone into the kitchen to order lunch, and Charlie knew that they would wait for him to finish the call before launching into their speech. The serious looks on their faces confirmed his suspicions.

"Now, before you start, I've already heard what you have to say about the Cullens, Billy. I don't want to hear another lecture about how dangerous they are, or how the doctor shouldn't be allowed to work in the hospital. I'll admit that there's something funny going on here, but until I know what that is I'm not gonna treat them any differently." He didn't want a repeat of their previous fight, and he needed his friends to understand that.

"Charlie, we just want you to know what you're getting into. They shouldn't even be in your house. What if this is some sort of trick?" Quil's face was flushed with his indignation.

Harry returned from the kitchen and joined them in their attempt to make him see things their way. "Exactly. How do we know that they haven't made this up as an excuse to get to the four of us?"

"Why would they create such an insane-sounding story? If whatever their secret is is so important, why would they even suggest they would reveal it just to get to us? What would be the point of sitting through two hours of reading if they only got us together to do us harm?"

"Charlie, they aren't to be trusted. I've already said my piece on this, and I won't repeat myself, but I don't like that your daughter is being used in their ploy," Billy sounded concerned, and Charlie knew that Billy wouldn't use his little girl as a tool to make him agree with him.

It seemed like the Cullens may be hiding some huge secret. Someone had sent knowledge from the future and Isabella would be wrapped up in whatever that secret may be. He was worried about what sort of hunter would be after her, or how it was related to the Cullens' secret.

"Look. I intend to figure out how to keep my daughter safe, but I can't do that without continuing to read these books. As far as we know we can't read them without the Cullens, so until we know what sort of danger is waiting in the wings for my baby girl I don't want to hear anything else about it," He was relieved to hear the sound of a car pulling up. "The pizza is here. Let's eat."

They split up to grab drinks and plates from Charlie's cupboards while he paid the delivery boy. He knew that this wouldn't be the end of it for them, but he hoped they would lay off now that they had gotten it off their chests. His friends were known for making their opinions known and he had always respected them for it; he only wished they were less intractable.

Charlie Swan was no man's fool, and he had noticed all the things his daughter seemed to in the book. He had also noticed that Carlisle and Edward looked as though they knew who or what the hunter may be. Learning what a person was hiding took a delicate hand. Forks' Police Department hadn't made him the Chief for no reason.

Chapter Text

    Lunch had been a relatively subdued affair. Charlie could tell that his friends had more that they wanted to say in regards to the Cullens, but they stayed silent. Whether due to his rant earlier, or whatever unspoken agreement they seemed to have, he was unsure. 

    The sound of tires on gravel announced the arrival of Carlisle and Edward to the group. Charlie sighed in relief; at least they would be able to read to break up the awkward silences. It would also allow him to observe the differences he had been ignoring up until now. He had had no reason to be suspicious of them before and chosen to allow them their oddities. This unexpected package of books had changed that resolution.

    Getting up to let them in, he made it to the door just as they were knocking. "Come on in, guys, I think we're all ready to get back to business here."

    "We have an update as well. Another letter arrived at our home while we were here earlier. It was to inform my family as to what was going on, and it stated that once we finished each book we could bring it to them to read as well." Carlisle was speaking to him, but Charlie could tell that he was expecting a response from the others.

    "Why not have them come here? Wouldn't that be just what you wanted? To have us outnumbered?" Harry questioned indignantly. 

    "Hey, now! That's uncalled for, Harry," Charlie knew that he had been ramping up in hostility, but he hadn't expected him to blow up that quickly.

    "Mr. Clearwater, our family have never intended any harm to you or yours. Chief Swan has welcomed us into his home and he deserves the respect owed him as your friend to at least behave with civility," Edward's words were tame, but Charlie could see the restrained rage in his eyes. It was a side of the kid Charlie hadn't been exposed to yet, and it added another piece to the puzzle the Cullens and these books had presented. 

    His friends had drawn closer to him, they were blocking the entryway to the living room. 

    "This is ridiculous. They're dangerous and shouldn't be allowed in your home, Charlie! They shouldn't even be allowed in this town!" Quil Sr. had not calmed down while they'd eaten, and had doubled down on his protest from earlier. 

    Just as Charlie was about to chime in to calm the explosion of complaints from his friends that followed Quil's outburst, there was a knock on the door. Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment before Edward and Carlisle wordlessly moved aside to allow Charlie to open the door. He ignored the looks of worry he received as he passed between them. 

    Stepping up to the door, Charlie concluded that he would definitely be installing a peephole before Bella moved in. 

Chapter Text

    Charlie opened the front door, grateful for the disturbance if it meant his friends would stop arguing with the Cullens for a moment. He couldn't help wondering who could possibly be knocking this time. The first time was about books from the future; was it going to be aliens now? 

    "How can I help you, Dan?" The mailman was the last person he'd imagined. Though, he had half expected it to be Bella at this point. 

    "Sorry to bother you, Chief, just need you to sign for this parcel. It was sent through express, so I'm glad I caught you at home." 

    "No worries. Good thing I didn't miss ya." Charlie signed on the screen, vaguely missing the days of signing with pen and paper, as his name looked more like Chanle Swam on the digital ones. 

    "Have a nice day, Chief," Dan left quickly, his raincoat swishing loudly in the light drizzle. 

    Charlie was glad that his postman hadn't commented on the odd group of people at his house, though he assumed they would be the topic of gossip by tomorrow. Dan's wife was best friends with Mrs. Stanley, and tonight was their book club meeting.

    The living room was quiet as he returned to his recliner. Carlisle and his son had reclaimed their previous spots on the couch, and his friends were looming over his chair as if it were some sort of throne and they were his guard. 

    "Now, as I'm certain I haven't ordered anything, I'm going to guess this has something to do with this whole situation," he stated as he opened the box. It was incredibly light and not very large, so Charlie was stumped as to what it may be. There was a loose, folded piece of paper on top of three sealed envelopes inside. He pulled the paper out, assuming it was meant to be read first.

    "Well, this is another note from 'Ness'."

     Gentlemen, 

    My friends and I concluded that you may be unwilling to trust a stranger such as myself, and I take no personal offense. Many people fear the unknown. I'm no stranger to that notion. Story of my life, but I digress. 

    Inside this package are letters to Billy, Harry, and Quil. They are from Jacob, Seth, and Quil the fifth. Maybe you will be more willing to continue this adventure if you know that they approve. I hope that this may help ease some of the inevitable tension amongst the six of you. 

    Charlie, Bella felt that she would unintentionally spoil things if she wrote to you too. We can't have that now, can we?

    Edward and Carlisle, we all agreed that you are incapable of being anything other than polite, even to a fault. Sometimes it's okay to tell people to buzz off. 

    Love, Ness

     "How did our kids get mixed up in this?" Billy sounded upset at the very idea his son may be affected by what they were doing here.

    "How do you think I feel about my daughter apparently being smack dab in the middle of it? Just read your letters and we'll go from there." Charlie was already fed up with this whole mess anyway, he didn't need them dragging it out further.

    He handed them their respective letters, and looked to see what the Cullens reaction was to the note. Edward seemed a little impatient, though Charlie could tell he was trying to hide it, and Carlisle just looked concerned.    

Chapter Text

    Wonderful. They were going to have to wait for the Elders to read letters from their progeny. Edward could already tell based on their thoughts that they would not want to share the contents with himself or his father. He was only slightly appeased by the thought that they would be unintentionally sharing them with him anyway. 

    His patience with them had already worn very thin prior to the break they had taken, but the confrontation upon their arrival, added to the fact that he had seen in their thoughts the argument Chief Swan had had with them whilst they were gone, brought him to the brink of his threshold. Ness, whomever they may be, may have had the right of things suggesting telling them to "buzz off". 

     Do you need to take a moment to step outside, son Carlisle thought at him. He had to have sensed his rising irritation. Edward shook his head minutely so the others wouldn't notice. His father placed his hand on the couch along his back as a small sign of support.

    "You gonna make us sit here in the quiet and watch you guys read?" Charlie was clearly frustrated with his friends as well. Edward could hear only that he was feeling a similar level of impatience as he was feeling. The kinship that he had felt before for the man was growing steadily. 

    "Well, mine was short. It just said, 'Dad, Ness knows what she's doing. The Cullens are great, so give them a chance, please. I love you so much, Seth. P.S. listen to mom, you know she's always right.'" Harry read off. 

    "Seth? Isn't he about thirteen or fourteen? What's he got to do with this?" Charlie sounded concerned now. His thoughts were too jumbled to discern.

    Harry was wondering how far in the future these had come from, because Charlie was right about his son's age. Though Mr. Clearwater already had an idea of what would get his son involved. He shared a look with Billy and Quil, who were just finishing their letters. 

    "Jacob said to believe in Ness, too. That the Cullens could be trusted," Billy seemed skeptical, though he was distracted by how close his son sounded to this Ness girl. For they at least knew now what pronouns to use in reference to her.

    "My grandson agrees on that point as well. We will behave for now," only Edward could hear the rest of that sentence. They would behave until they discovered how their family may have brainwashed them. 

    "Okay, then! Well, I say we keep going then, yeah?" Charlie sighed in relief as he picked up the first book and turned to the page where they had left off. "Chapter Three: Phenomenon."

    When I opened my eyes in the morning, something was different.

    It was the light. It was still the gray-green light of a cloudy day in the forest, but it was clearer somehow. I realized there was no fog veiling my window.

    I jumped up to look outside, and then groaned in horror. 

    A fine layer of snow covered the yard, dusted the top of my truck, and whitened the road. But that wasn’t the worst part. All the rain from yesterday had frozen solid—coating the needles on the trees in fantastic, gorgeous patterns, and making the driveway a deadly ice slick. I had enough trouble not falling down when the ground was dry; it might be safer for me to go back to bed now.

     Charlie had left for work before I got downstairs. In a lot of ways, living with Charlie was like having my own place, and I found myself reveling in the aloneness instead of being lonely.

    I threw down a quick bowl of cereal and some orange juice from the carton. I felt excited to go to school, and that scared me. I knew it wasn’t the stimulating learning environment I was anticipating, or seeing my new set of friends. If I was being honest with myself, I knew I was eager to get to school because I would see Edward Cullen. And that was very, very stupid.

    Edward quickly suppressed the thrill he felt at hearing Isabella's excitement to see him. He didn't think he deserved that type of admiration. The fear that he may be the hunter from the prologue based on his reaction to her on her first day hadn't gone away yet. 

     I should be avoiding him entirely after my brainless and embarrassing babbling yesterday. And I was suspicious of him; why should he lie about his eyes? I was still frightened of the hostility I sometimes felt emanating from him, and I was still tongue-tied whenever I pictured his perfect face. I was well aware that my league and his league were spheres that did not touch. So I shouldn’t be at all anxious to see him today.

    It took every ounce of my concentration to make it down the icy brick driveway alive. I almost lost my balance when I finally got to the truck, but I managed to cling to the side mirror and save myself. Clearly, today was going to be nightmarish.

    Driving to school, I distracted myself from my fear of falling and my unwanted speculations about Edward Cullen by thinking about Mike and Eric, and the obvious difference in how teenage boys responded to me here. I was sure I looked exactly the same as I had in Phoenix. Maybe it was just that the boys back home had watched me pass slowly through all the awkward phases of adolescence and still thought of me that way. Perhaps it was because I was a novelty here, where novelties were few and far between. Possibly my crippling clumsiness was seen as endearing rather than pathetic, casting me as a damsel in distress. Whatever the reason, Mike’s puppy dog behavior and Eric’s apparent rivalry with him were disconcerting. I wasn’t sure if I didn’t prefer being ignored.

     "I know I prefer it," Charlie mumbled. Edward felt himself in agreement, though couldn't seem to figure out why he would care.

    "Hey, it happens to all of us, Charlie. One of mine is already married and not much older than Bella," Billy chuckled. 

    Harry was thinking of his daughter as well, though his thoughts were slightly tinged with regret. Edward couldn't help wondering why the man might feel responsible for his daughter's recent breakup. 

     My truck seemed to have no problem with the black ice that covered the roads. I drove very slowly, though, not wanting to carve a path of destruction through Main Street.

    When I got out of my truck at school, I saw why I’d had so little trouble. Something silver caught my eye, and I walked to the back of the truck— carefully holding the side for support— to examine my tires. There were thin chains crisscrossed in diamond shapes around them. Charlie had gotten up who knows how early to put snow chains on my truck. My throat suddenly felt tight. I wasn’t used to being taken care of, and Charlie’s unspoken concern caught me by surprise.

    I was standing by the back corner of the truck, struggling to fight back the sudden wave of emotion the snow chains had brought on, when I heard an odd sound.

    It was a high-pitched screech, and it was fast becoming painfully loud. I looked up, startled.

     Charlie looked frozen, he seemed like he may be in shock. Carlisle gently pulled the book from his hands, as the others tried to check on him. 

    Billy Black reached over to pat Charlie on the back while Carlisle continued the passage that seemed to have caused the Chief to stumble. 

     I saw several things simultaneously. Nothing was moving in slow motion, the way it does in the movies. Instead, the adrenaline rush seemed to make my brain work much faster, and I was able to absorb in clear detail several things at once.

    Edward Cullen was standing four cars down from me, staring at me in horror. His face stood out from a sea of faces, all frozen in the same mask of shock. But of more immediate importance was the dark blue van that was skidding, tires locked and squealing against the brakes, spinning wildly across the ice of the parking lot. It was going to hit the back corner of my truck, and I was standing between them. I didn’t even have time to close my eyes.

    "My baby," Charlie whispered so faintly that even Edward and Carlisle could barely hear him. Edward almost wished Jasper were here to help them calm down. The tension in the room was palpable. His fists were clenched on the tops of his thighs.

     Just before I heard the shattering crunch of the van folding around the truck bed, something hit me, hard, but not from the direction I was expecting. My head cracked against the icy blacktop, and I felt something solid and cold pinning me to the ground. I was lying on the pavement behind the tan car I’d parked next to. But I didn’t have a chance to notice anything else, because the van was still coming. It had curled gratingly around the end of the truck and, still spinning and sliding, was about to collide with me again .

    A low oath made me aware that someone was with me, and the voice was impossible not to recognize. Two long, white hands shot out protectively in front of me, and the van shuddered to a stop a foot from my face, the large hands fitting providentially into a deep dent in the side of the van’s body.

    Then his hands moved so fast they blurred. One was suddenly gripping under the body of the van, and something was dragging me, swinging my legs around like a rag doll’s, till they hit the tire of the tan car. A groaning metallic thud hurt my ears, and the van settled, glass popping, onto the asphalt—exactly where, a second ago, my legs had been.

     Edward's mind went blank for the first time in over ninety years. All background noise and thoughts faded away to nothing. What had he done? What would he do?  

Chapter Text

    Charlie almost didn't notice that Dr. Cullen had stopped reading. He was just as frozen in place as the good doctor's kid seemed to be. His little girl had almost been killed by a van sliding on the ice.

    He could barely feel Billy patting his back absently. His friends were muttering to each other, but he wasn't hearing any of it. Everything had faded into the background. 

    Whatever the hell the Cullens were, one of them had saved his daughter's life. He was definitely going to get to the whys and what fors later, but right now he was only concerned about the mention of her hitting her head on the pavement. 

    "Thank you," he whispered. 

    Edward's head snapped up as he focused on him.

    "I'm going to have questions for you both in a minute, but I'd like to see if Bella's head is okay first," his voice was a bit rough with emotion as he spoke. 

    "I understand your concern, Charlie. I'll keep reading until we get to a resolution on Isabella's health. We will answer any questions you may have at that time," Carlisle didn't give the others time to interrupt as he picked up the book. 

     It was absolutely silent for one long second before the screaming began. In the abrupt bedlam, I could hear more than one person shouting my name. But more clearly than all the yelling, I could hear Edward Cullen’s low, frantic voice in my ear.

    "Bella? Are you all right?"

    “I’m fine.” My voice sounded strange. I tried to sit up, and realized he was holding me against the side of his body in an iron grasp.

    “Be careful,” he warned as I struggled. “I think you hit your head pretty hard.”

    I became aware of a throbbing ache centered above my left ear.

    “Ow,” I said, surprised.

    “That’s what I thought.” His voice, amazingly, sounded like he was suppressing laughter.

    “How in the…” I trailed off, trying to clear my head, get my bearings. “How did you get over here so fast?”

    “I was standing right next to you, Bella,” he said, his tone serious again.

    "That's not going to work," Charlie chuckled half-heartedly. His daughter was way too stubborn to let such a blatant lie pass.

     I turned to sit up, and this time he let me, releasing his hold around my waist and sliding as far from me as he could in the limited space. I looked at his concerned, innocent expression and was disoriented again by the force of his gold-colored eyes. What was I asking him?

    And then they found us, a crowd of people with tears streaming down their faces, shouting at each other, shouting at us.

    "Don't move," someone instructed.

    “Get Tyler out of the van!” someone else shouted. There was a flurry of activity around us. I tried to get up, but Edward’s cold hand pushed my shoulder down.

    "Just stay put for now."

    “But it’s cold,” I complained. It surprised me when he chuckled under his breath. There was an edge to the sound.

     “You were over there,” I suddenly remembered, and his chuckle stopped short. “You were by your car.”

    His expression turned hard. “No, I wasn’t.”

    “I saw you.” All around us was chaos. I could hear the gruffer voices of adults arriving on the scene. But I obstinately held on to our argument; I was right, and he was going to admit it.

    "Yep, obstinate is definitely a good word for it. She's not letting that one go," he was glad to see that she seemed well enough to not take any crap from Edward.

    "She gets it from you," Billy mumbled under his breath.

     “Bella, I was standing with you, and I pulled you out of the way.” He unleashed the full, devastating power of his eyes on me, as if trying to communicate something crucial.

    “No.” I set my jaw.

    The gold in his eyes blazed. “Please, Bella.”

    “Why?” I demanded.

    “Trust me,” he pleaded, his soft voice overwhelming.

    I could hear the sirens now. “Will you promise to explain everything to me later?”

    “Fine,” he snapped, abruptly exasperated.

    “Fine,” I repeated angrily.

    It took six EMTs and two teachers—Mr. Varner and Coach Clapp—to shift the van far enough away from us to bring the stretchers in. Edward vehemently refused his, and I tried to do the same, but the traitor told them I’d hit my head and probably had a concussion. I almost died of humiliation when they put on the neck brace. It looked like the entire school was there, watching soberly as they loaded me in the back of the ambulance. Edward got to ride in the front. It was maddening.

    To make matters worse, Chief Swan arrived before they could get me safely away.

     Charlie tried not to take her dislike of his appearance personally, he knew Bella hated attention, but it hurt a little to hear. The sympathetic looks he was getting from everyone weren't helping either. He flushed and nodded at Carlisle to keep going.

     “Bella!” he yelled in panic when he recognized me on the stretcher.

    “I’m completely fine, Char—Dad,” I sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

    He turned to the closest EMT for a second opinion. I tuned him out to consider the jumble of inexplicable images churning chaotically in my head. When they’d lifted me away from the car, I had seen the deep dent in the tan car’s bumper—a very distinct dent that fit the contours of Edward’s shoulders… as if he had braced himself against the car with enough force to damage the metal frame…

     And then there was his family, looking on from the distance, with expressions that ranged from disapproval to fury but held no hint of concern for their brother’s safety.

     "You see! Unfeeling monsters!-" Harry was gearing up for a long rant, Charlie could tell.

    "Later! This can wait until I hear from the doctors," he cut him off before he could really get started. "Sorry, doc."

    Carlisle just smiled thinly and continued on with the chapter. 

     I tried to think of a logical solution that could explain what I had just seen—a solution that excluded the assumption that I was insane.

    Naturally, the ambulance got a police escort to the county hospital. I felt ridiculous the whole time they were unloading me. What made it worse was that Edward simply glided through the hospital doors under his own power. I ground my teeth together.

    They put me in the emergency room, a long room with a line of beds separated by pastel-patterned curtains. A nurse put a pressure cuff on my arm and a thermometer under my tongue. Since no one bothered pulling the curtain around to give me some privacy, I decided I wasn’t obligated to wear the stupid-looking neck brace anymore. When the nurse walked away, I quickly unfastened the Velcro and threw it under the bed.

    There was another flurry of hospital personnel, another stretcher brought to the bed next to me. I recognized Tyler Crowley from my Government class beneath the bloodstained bandages wrapped tightly around his head. Tyler looked a hundred times worse than I felt. But he was staring anxiously at me.

    “Bella, I’m so sorry!”

    “I’m fine, Tyler—you look awful, are you all right?” As we spoke, nurses began unwinding his soiled bandages, exposing a myriad of shallow slices all over his forehead and left cheek.

     He ignored me. “I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast, and I hit the ice wrong.…” He winced as one nurse started dabbing at his face.

“Don’t worry about it; you missed me.”

“How did you get out of the way so fast? You were there, and then you were gone.…”

“Umm… Edward pulled me out of the way.”

    He looked confused. “Who?”

    “Edward Cullen—he was standing next to me.” I’d always been a terrible liar; I didn’t sound convincing at all.

    “Cullen? I didn’t see him… wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is he okay?”

    “I think so. He’s here somewhere, but they didn’t make him use a stretcher.”

    I knew I wasn’t crazy. What had happened? There was no way to explain away what I’d seen.

    They wheeled me away then, to X-ray my head. I told them there was nothing wrong, and I was right. Not even a concussion. I asked if I could leave, but the nurse said I had to talk to a doctor first. So I was trapped in the ER, waiting, harassed by Tyler’s constant apologies and promises to make it up to me. No matter how many times I tried to convince him I was fine, he continued to torment himself. Finally, I closed my eyes and ignored him. He kept up a remorseful mumbling.

     Charlie felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. She was fine. No concussion. 

    "Do you want to finish the chapter, Charlie, or would you rather get to your questions now?" The doctor sounded calm, but he could see the nervousness in his eyes. 

    Edward was not hiding his discomfort particularly well at all. He was clearly still stuck on the fact that he had saved Bella.

    "I think I deserve to know the truth. It's clear there's something going on here, and I seem to be the only one who doesn't know." Hopefully, his knowing would ease some of the tension between his friends and the Cullens.

    "Would you gentlemen like to tell him?" Carlisle gestured to Billy. 

    "You'd like that, wouldn't you? We break the treaty so you don't have to?" Quil snapped at him.

    "What treaty? Someone had better tell me something!" The constant bickering was grating on him.

    "Chief Swan, my family and I aren't generally permitted to tell this to anyone. You see there are those who would seek to harm us, and anyone else with whom we may have shared this information. Unfortunately, it seems circumstances have made it necessary to share it with you, therefore placing us all in potential danger," Carlisle spoke gravely. 

    "It looks like Bella might figure it out too," Charlie was more concerned that she might be in danger than himself. She was only a kid.

    "Your daughter seems like a very intelligent girl," Carlisle smiled. "This might be difficult to believe, but we are what the Quileute people refer to as Cold Ones; it is the most honest name that we have gone by. Most commonly we are known as vampires."

    Charlie waited for the 'gotcha' or 'sike' to follow that pronouncement. When Carlisle didn't say anything, simply waited for him to reply, he looked over to his friends to see if they were in on the joke.

    All three were wearing looks of relief, like they were glad he finally knew. Billy spoke first.

    "Do you understand now? This is why they don't belong here. Not in our towns and certainly not the hospital and school."

    "This isn't a joke? Vampires? Wait this is why you guys refuse to go to the hospital?" Charlie could barely piece his thoughts together. 

    "They're monsters!"

    "He shouldn't be allowed near a hospital!"

    The argument was interrupted by a noise that sounded like boulders clashing. Charlie jerked his head to look in the direction it came from to see that it had been Edward clapping his hands together. 

    "Do you have any other questions at this time, sir? I'm sure that this has been overwhelming. We can come back to read more tomorrow if that works for all of you?" 

    Charlie had to hand it to him, he was dealing with this a lot better than he was, and he wasn't the one being called a monster multiple times. 

    "Yeah, I'll save anything I can't get from these guys for tomorrow. Same time? Are you working, Doc?"

    "I'm on night shift this week, so that's no trouble. We'll see you gentlemen tomorrow." Carlisle and Edward were already heading for the door and Charlie couldn't blame them. Their big secret was out and it could put everyone in danger. They probably needed to tell the rest of their family. 

    "Drive safe," Charlie idly wondered if they even needed to drive safely, after reading how Edward fared getting hit by the Crowley kid's van. 

    As they approached their car, Charlie turned to confront his friends. They had some serious explaining to do. 

Chapter Text

    Charlie was worn out. He just wanted to get to the bottom of all this and call it a day.

    "Do you three have anything to say? Vampires are real, and one of them is our local doctor. Is Dan the mailman a sasquatch, too?" 

    "Charlie, this is serious. They're dangerous, and they don't belong here," Quil straightened up from where he had been leaning against the wall. "That thing probably only saved Bella so that it could kill her itself. It wouldn't want its meal wasted."

    "If I weren't waiting for an explanation I'd toss you out on your ass right this second for talking about my daughter's life that way. Now, someone start talking!" Charlie had never been so angry with his friend. 

    "Calm down, Charlie, I'll tell you. Do you remember hearing the stories of our tribe? You were allowed to know some of them when we were young men," Billy placed his hand on Quil's arm to indicate he should back down. 

    "Some, I guess. I remember the one about being changed from wolves, since it makes it against tribal law to kill them. I also remember your mother scaring us away from the beach with stories of Duskiya, the kelp-haired child snatcher. What's that got to do with the Cullens?"  

    "Everything. The Cold Ones first came here during the time of Taha Aki. He was the last great Spirit Chief of our tribe.

    Women in the Makah Tribe were disappearing, so he sent his oldest son, Taha Wi, to find them, but he and two of his brothers did not return. After a year, and the disappearance of more Makah women, Taha Wi's younger brothers searched for them too. 

    Cold Ones were killing them. The male Cold One had been killed, but his mate escaped. Only Yaha Uta, the eldest son of Taha Aki's third wife, returned as the last of the wolfmen"

    "Wait, wolfmen? Like werewolves? There are werewolves, too?" Charlie sat down on his couch. "Are you telling me that your tribe are also supernatural beings?" 

    "Taha Aki and his sons gained the ability after he shared the body of a Great Wolf to save the Tribe from a Spirit Warrior who had stolen his body while he was Spirit Traveling. His rage caused him to shift from Wolf into the form of his Spirit Body."

    "Can you? Are all of you werewolves?" he asked, feeling slightly desperate. Was he the only normal human in town?

    "No," Harry answered gruffly. Charlie thought he sounded disappointed. 

    "The Cold One's mate returned, and killed Yaha Uta and many other members of the tribe," Billy continued. "Taha Aki shifted for the first time in many years to fight, as well as his youngest son shifting for the first time ever. 

    The Third wife of Taha Aki sacrificed herself to distract the Cold One with her free flowing blood and they were able to defeat her. He laid by his wife's body for a day before wandering into the woods as a wolf and never turned man again. 

    After a great while, the descendants of Taha Aki only turned wolf when the threat of Cold Ones was near. The last time was when my grandfather, Ephraim Black, was the tribal chief. Five Cold Ones, three males and two females, were in the nearby area, and came across my grandfather and his pack. They already knew of the leader, Carlisle, who'd been here and gone before your people arrived. 

    They hunted differently than the ones we had faced before and weren't supposed to pose a threat to our tribe, so Ephraim made a treaty with them to stay off the reservation and the pack would not kill them."

    "Hunted differently, how?" Did they drink coconut milk instead of blood or something? Charlie's mind couldn't help but come up with ridiculous alternatives. This whole situation felt ridiculous. 

    "They claimed to drink the blood of animals instead of humans," Quil scoffed. "They come back here years later, with two more in their numbers and expect us to believe they don't drink human blood!" 

    "Now you see. They are why we refuse to go to the hospital. This is the reason we warned you away from them. They are monsters, Charlie, and your daughter will be in danger when she arrives in January," Billy looked relieved to finally get to tell him the truth.

    Charlie could understand that Billy must have been frustrated knowing he just sounded like he disapproved of a new family moving to town with a bunch of foster children. Without knowing they were vampires, he couldn't have possibly gotten what it was about them that bothered his best friend so much. 

    "Okay, they are back though, does that mean some of the guys on the reservation are werewolves now?" he was pretty sure that was what was implied here.

    "That isn't the point, damn it!" Quil shouted, coming closer to the couch. 

    Charlie stood up, "Oh, I know what your point is, Quil. You think one of the Cullens is planning to make my daughter their lunch.

    The thing is, I'm the Police Chief, so I would know if people were going missing or showing up dead in my town. So, it looks to me like they haven't been snacking on the good people of Forks in the time they've been living here. 

    In fact, there has been nothing but praise for the lives Doctor Cullen has saved that our local doctors wouldn't have been able to without him. Doctor Gerandy thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread!

    It's innocent until proven guilty, and they haven't hurt anyone here or stepped foot on the reservation. Now, is there anything else I should know before you all get the hell out of my house? I need a beer and some quiet to process the fact that I live in the damned Twilight Zone," 

    He could feel that his face had turned what was probably an unhealthy shade of red. 

    Did they not get how insane this all was? There were real monsters out there, and not just the kind he could slap cuffs on and put in a cell. After reading about the van accident, he figured his gun would most likely be useless too.

    If these books meant learning how to protect Isabella, he'd read them with the devil himself.

    "That's all, Charlie. We'll go, but we're coming back tomorrow. We can't leave you here alone with them in good conscience," Billy cut between them. His wheelchair handle was pressed against Quil's stomach, he was so close. 

    "This Ness girl wants the three of you here anyway. And, drive safe leaving. Don't think I don't know you sped to get here so fast this morning," he warned. 

    He vindictively thought it would be funny to hear that they'd been pulled over, but immediately regretted it. They cared about his safety, and were afraid for him.

    Charlie still helped them carry Billy and his chair down his front steps before going back in alone. He went straight for the fridge to grab a beer, but didn't make it before collapsing into one of his dining chairs. Experience told him he was most likely going into shock, though it could have been the adrenaline wearing off as well. 

    Bending down, Charlie put his head between his knees. What in the world was he supposed to do?

    Before he could really start to process anything, his phone started to ring. 

    He got up to answer it on autopilot. 

    "Chief Swan, here."

    "Ch-Dad?" It was Isabella. He slumped against the counter in relief. His baby girl wasn't in danger yet. That's what mattered. 

    "Bells, how are you? Is everything okay?" She didn't call him very often, and now he was worried something was wrong.

    "I'm fine, Dad. Did you get a weird package today?"

    Charlie froze, "How do you know about that?"

    "I got one, too. A few days ago. The letter inside said you were getting them today, but it all seems so strange that I had to call and ask," she sounded nervous. 

    "Yeah, Bells, I got them today. I wonder why you got them before me."

    "Actually, I think it's so I would call you today. Maybe Ness knew you would need to hear from me to feel better about the whole thing."

    "I always feel better hearing from you, kid," Charlie huffed. "Have you finished reading them, then?"

    She chuckled, "All five of them, in two days. I've barely slept trying to see what happens."

    "All five? We only got four here, Bells."

    "Oh, uh, I guess you guys only got the ones from my perspective. I got one from Edward's as well."

    "Huh…that's odd. Can you tell me if you turn out okay?"

    "Dad, my letters said no to spoil anything. I'll be alright, though. How far are you guys?"

    "Edward just stopped a van from crushing you. Please, be more aware of your surroundings next time around, kiddo. For my health. 

    We didn't finish the chapter, though, so the guys could tell me about Cold Ones, or vampires, or whatever."

    "So you know. I wasn't sure, since it isn't revealed in the book yet."

    "The boy stopped a car accident with his bare hands, Bells. I'm not going to let that slide without asking questions. I'm still a cop, you know," he said, faking indignance. "Not to mention it was obvious I was the only one in the room out of the loop."

    "How are they taking everything?" Bella asked hesitantly. 

    "I thought I was going to have to sock Old Quil in the face if he didn't get himself together and behave like an adult. Poor, Edward looked like he was constipated the whole time."

    They both laughed at the thought. Charlie was very glad Bella had called, but he had one more serious question to ask her before he could fully relax. 

    "Bella, honey, I have to say this. Do you want to cancel moving here? I don't care what any future lady says, if you don't feel safe coming here now you're allowed to change your mind," he didn't want her hurt, but he also really wanted the chance to spend more time with her. He wouldn't let on he would be sad she wasn't coming.

    "No! I want to come stay with you! Please, don't make me cancel, dad."

    "Okay, okay, I'm not making you do anything. I just needed you to know you had the option, Bells."

    He was shocked by how quickly she refused to not stay with him, but he could barely contain his joy about it either. 

    "I've got to figure out what I'm doing for dinner, and get ready to read all day with vampires and cranky old men tomorrow. I'll let you go, kid,"

    "Okay, dad. Eat something healthy, for my health, alright. I love you. Bye," she hung up before he could process that she had said I love you enough to say it back. 

    Charlie hung up his phone and sat back down at his kitchen table. His little girl was going to be okay. She had gotten the books, plus an extra one, and could be aware of any danger coming too. 

    That had to be enough for now, until he could finish them himself.

Chapter Text

   The dilapidated tomb, marked with the name Cullen, is imposing in the dusky fog. Approaching the door cautiously, Charlie pushes it open, wincing at the bone-chilling screech as it drags along the cold, stone floor. As the daylight leaks through around him, he peers through the dimness to see eight coffins in alcoves lining the walls up to the ceiling.

    Slowly opening the closest to him reveals Carlisle; lying, seemingly dead, with a wooden stake through his chest. Backing away in shock, Charlie clutches at the coffins behind him. They pop open suddenly at his touch, revealing Edward and Bella, both similarly staked through the heart.

    The ground trembles beneath him, causing another coffin to fall at his feet. It bursts open as a large, brown wolf lunges for his throat.

    Charlie jolts upright in the bed, adrenaline pumping through him, leaving him feeling as though he's had several cups of coffee. He can feel that he sweat clean through his sheets, and shakes himself to ease off the remaining tension from his nightmare to get up and strip the bed. 

    “Just a dream, Chief. It's not like vampires are real and coming to your house today,” he mutters to himself sarcastically. 

    The hope that he'd wake up this morning and learn it had all been a dream was admittedly, short-lived. It had been a feeble attempt to relieve his racing thoughts and endless stream of questions long enough to get some shut eye. Bad dreams about vampires were the least of his worries. 

    After carrying his sweat dampened sheets downstairs to the laundry room, Charlie quickly gets his bed remade and dresses for the day. All previous plans of fishing this morning are a distant memory as he considers what else he could possibly learn from the books still sitting on his coffee table.

    His kitchen feels stale as he heads back downstairs. Having read his daughter's thoughts on his house, he can't help but wonder if everyone thinks he never got over Renee leaving. Maybe he'd let Bells help him redecorate when she moved in, make it feel more like her house, too. 

    Before he can really think much about how he might change his home, he notices the scent of sawdust lingering in the air. Following his nose, Charlie discovers that the smell is coming from his front hall. 

    There, a little less than five and a half feet up the door, is a freshly installed peep-hole. It's just low enough for him to need to stoop a bit and just above it, at his eyeline, is a post-it note. 

         Charlie,

    I hope you don't mind that we put in this peephole for you! It will hopefully ease your mind with all your unexpected visitors lately. Bella's safety is our number one priority! See you soon!

        Alice Cullen

  P.S. The ramp was Carlisle’s idea, since Mr. Black will be coming over more often. 

    Almost more confused than he was before, Charlie unlocks his door to inspect the peephole from both sides, wondering how in the world they even got inside and what the note meant by ‘the ramp’. His confusion only grows as he sees a completed, and well-built from the looks of it, wheelchair ramp leading from the top of his stoop to the driveway. 

    How in the hell did they do that without him hearing anything? He steps outside and walks down the ramp, bouncing on the balls of his feet at different intervals to test the craftsmanship. It's completely sturdy. 

    Stepping around to his front yard, Charlie notes that the ramp even blends well with the front of his house. There are even matching handrails leading up the sides of the steps, also clearly painted to match his shutters, which are brighter with an obviously fresh coat of paint. 

    What sort of vampires install peepholes and wheelchair ramps in the middle of the night? And how the hell did they get in his house to do it? He wasn't sure if he should thank them, or install a security camera, or both.

    Before he can even get his bearings, he hears the sound of a car coming up behind him. Turning on his heels, he sees that it's Harry's truck, here much earlier than he expected. 

    “Charlie! Where did that come from? It sure as hell wasn't there yesterday!” He can tell even without seeing the look on Billy's face that his friend is just as shocked and confused as he is. 

    “Was here when I got up. The Cullens installed it last night, according to the note they left. As well as the new peephole in my door,” Charlie answers almost reluctantly. He's pretty sure the guys won't take this as a gesture of kindness. 

    He was right. “They came into your home while you were sleeping?” Quil practically explodes. Harry looks almost apoplectic with rage. 

    “Seems like it, yeah,” he's hoping to diffuse some of the tension before the Cullens arrive, and hopefully before one of them has a heart attack. None of them are exactly spring chickens, himself included. 

    “That's it, I'm calling Sam. This has gone far enough! If they think they can get away with this-” 

    “Sam? I was right yesterday, wasn't I? There are werewolves on the reservation now. And what, exactly, are they getting away with, Harry? They aren't exactly here for me to tell them that I'd rather they not come into my home uninvited, but clearly if they intended to hurt me they had plenty of opportunity to while they were installing a ramp for Billy,” Charlie is already tired of the arguments and they haven't even started reading yet. 

    “I'm not going near that thing! It's probably set to collapse the second I get on it!”

    “Then it would have when I went down it to get in the yard, wouldn't it? I know for a fact you hate that we have to carry you up the damn stairs. So, suck it up and let's go inside already! My neighbors are probably already gossiping about me having so many people over two days in a row, and I'd rather not add a screaming match in my front yard to the rumor mill on top of the magically appearing accessibility aids.”

    At that, Charlie deliberately stomps up the ramp in a show of admittedly immature stubbornness, and leaves his door wide open as he heads to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He really wishes it weren't too early for a beer. It's going to be a long day, he can already feel it. 

    Alice was right. Bella's safety is our number one priority, he reminds himself as he hears the guys shut the door. If they want to make things more difficult for themselves, that's their prerogative. 

Chapter Text

    “We were helping them, Edward! If Charlie had tried to put in the peephole himself he would have gotten hurt!” Alice unsuccessfully attempted to prove that her meddling had been necessary.

    Arriving home after spending the better part of the night hunting with Carlisle and Esme, only to learn that his siblings had spent that time building a wheelchair ramp and then hauling it to Chief Swan’s house in the dead of night, made him want to turn right back around and leave. He’d been arguing with Alice about it for the last hour.

    “A splinter is hardly a major injury, Alice,” he replied sardonically. “And, that doesn’t explain why you would risk the suspicion of Charlie’s neighbors, or even being seen, just to install a ramp for a man who would see us all ripped to shreds and burned! They already believe that we are trying to lure them into a false sense of security; this act of kindness will not be taken as such.”

    “Why don’t the two of you take a moment to calm down? We can discuss it more later,” Esme interjected. “When you arrive at Charlie’s home you will hear whether or not Alice’s gesture is appreciated or not. Until then there is nothing more to say.”

    Edward and Alice both murmured their agreement to behave, though he could hear her mentally sticking her tongue out at him.

    He ignored her immature thoughts and headed up to his room to change, despite being one of the least messy hunters in the family. Wearing different clothes every day was a routine that helped him feel more human. There weren’t many things that let him feel normal anymore. School only served as a reminder that he could not fit in.

    Edward, when you’ve finished, I’d like to see you in my study. 

    Humming his assent to his father’s summons, Edward dressed quickly and made his way down to the second floor. The door was already open, though Carlisle gestured silently for him to close it. The others may still be able to hear, but the illusion of privacy was still appreciated. 

   “I won't beat about the bush, seeing as you can hear why I've asked you to join me. While I do believe that Alice and Emmett's actions were ill advised, I don't agree with your reasoning. 

    Son, do you truly feel as though we should not do good things for those who would not give us thanks?”

    “You can't hear what they truly think of us. They question our every action, looking for ulterior motives,” Edward had hoped Carlisle understood his qualms about the situation.

    “They fear what they do not understand. Their tribe's experiences with our kind were devastating, and they do not feel they can trust us on our word alone. We must show them we mean no harm, and hope they grow to see we are more alike than we are different,” Carlisle was clearly passionate about remaining polite and being kind. It made Edward feel more the monster for believing differently. 

    But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil. Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful.

    We must do unto others, Edward, as we would have them do unto us. You may not feel as though we retain our souls upon transformation, but do you believe that precludes us from behaving righteously?

    “I'll meet you downstairs in a moment, Edward. I have some things I need to finish here first,” Carlisle dismissed him softly.

    Feeling chastened by his father's gentle correction, Edward headed downstairs to his piano. 

    He knows that Carlisle is right, of course. They should take the high road, and prove they aren't the monsters from their legends: however, Edward can't help but feel he is that, deep down. His time away from his family playing judge, jury, and executioner proved he was exactly what they believed him to be. 

    Carlisle arrived downstairs after only a few moments, thinking only of what may be in store for them in their continued readings. 

    “We're on our way out, call if you need anything. We may be back around time for them to have lunch again,” he said as he kissed Esme on the cheek. 

    “Tell Charlie I said you're welcome!” Alice shouted from the back yard, where she and Jasper had been quietly sitting in a pocket of sun, holding hands.     

    Edward rolled his eyes and ran to the car, more than ready to get away from Alice's smug thoughts. She'd seen that Charlie, at least, was appreciative if not flummoxed by their gesture. 

    Rosalie pretended not to notice him come into the garage as she lay underneath her BMW. Edward pulled out smoothly just as Carlisle climbed into the car. He'd chosen to take his Volvo as opposed to the Mercedes that Carlisle typically uses. It was no Vanquish, but he felt more at ease behind the wheel of his own car. 

    After having spent the day with them, Edward picked up on the voices and thoughts of Chief Swan and the others long before making it to his street. 

    The tone of the Quileute men's thoughts were exactly as he'd expected, though he could hear that Charlie had already given them a dressing down before their arrival. It was possible they may not acknowledge the ramp at all as a form of snubbing their gift. He hoped that was the case, as it meant only hearing their complaints mentally as opposed to that and verbally.