A/N: Originally, I didn't plan on writing a sequel for "Cross Your Heart", but a friend of mine asked me to, and here it is, the very first chapter. For those of you who haven't read "Cross Your Heart" and who'd rather plunge into the sequel right away (even though "Cross Your Heart" isn't that long) a brief summary: Edward left Bella after her disastrous birthday party but not without sleeping with her first. Ten years after that their daughter comes across a strange scent and learns that she has a family after all. Here's how Gemma (that's what I call her, because in my version of the story Bella believed she'd have a boy, so the name Renesmee never came up; but it's still the same person) deals with having a family and enters a life she never thought she'd have.

I hope you enjoy it

Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga and all its characters, places etc. are property of Stephenie Meyer. I'm only borrowing.

CROSS YOUR HEART II

1

I'd never liked school.

If asked, every single teenager in the United States would probably say the same, but—if asked again, this time for their reasons—they'd probably answer something along the lines of "I hate getting up early!" or "I hate studying!" maybe even "I don't think that anybody likes me!". Nobody had ever asked me why I didn't like school, not even Alice. If she'd bothered to ask, however, my answer would have been "I'm a vampire-human hybrid. I. Don't. Fit. In. Never have!". I might have added that I'd been to seventeen different schools in two different states in less than five years and was tired of being the new girl, but the first … said it all.

I'd never fit in anywhere. I'd been the odd one out at home, the foster child nobody really wanted to have, and I'd been the odd one out at every single school I ever attended. I wasn't an outsider, no, for even an outsider was part of a school's community, had always another outside he could befriend.

I was an outcast. Well, leper might be the better word here. It wasn't because of something I'd done (or hadn't done), because of something I could change. It was because of what I was.

People didn't know what I was, of course. How would they? And even if I told them, they'd never believe me, because I couldn't possibly exist. I was a myth. I wasn't real. But I was, and people noticed, if only subconsciously, that I was different, noticed that I wasn't quite like them, and so they shied away from me. Needless to say, I'd never made any friends.

I didn't expect that to change. After all, I'd be going to school with my father, and he'd certainly make sure that I didn't hang out with the wrong people. Well, I didn't intend to hang out with anyone, because I didn't plan on going back to school tomorrow or, for that matter, the days and weeks and months after that. Alice didn't know that yet because her visions of the future didn't include me (for which I was very grateful, because I was free to make decisions without anyone judging me the second I made them), but she'd have to accept my decision.

I snorted as I slowly hiked up the slope towards my family's house. I'd finally agreed to give it a try (as if I didn't already know what it would be like…) only because I was sick of her bringing up this particular subject every time we met. Esme and Carlisle, and my father, of course, had been ecstatic, because they believed (they'd never said so, but I wasn't stupid) that living in a tree and spending most of my days alone wasn't good for me. They thought I should socialise.

I snorted again. As if they went to school to socialise. They did it because it was normal, because it was human. I, on the other hand, had no intentions of even pretending to be human, because I wasn't. I didn't want to have to pretend to be something I was not ever again. I was happy with the way things were. I didn't want to change anything.

My family wasn't. They thought they knew what was good for me even though they didn't even know me, because three weeks weren't nearly enough time to get to know someone. They'd wanted me to move in with them, too, but I'd put my foot down on that one. I didn't need a family (I'd never had one, after all, and I could fend for myself), and that's what they kept forgetting. I'd once told them that I could, and would, walk away if they didn't give me the space I needed, but they hadn't believed me. For them family was everything. For me, however, who'd never had a real family before, who'd been passed from foster family to foster family, it wasn't. I'd learnt the hard way that I was better off alone, and while I knew, intellectually at least, that I could trust them, could trust my father, it was hard.

And them trying to talk me into doing things I didn't want to do (period), didn't exactly help.

Alice was waiting for me as I stepped out of the trees. It was still very early, and while a faint line of golden light was already visible on horizon and the stars (what I'd been able to see of them anyway; the sky had been overcast for days) had taken their leave, the sun hadn't deigned to rise yet and wouldn't for at least another hour.

I ground my teeth together to stifle a yawn. I was used to getting up early, but not this early, and I had trouble keeping my eyes open. Alice hadn't told me why she wanted me to swing by their house almost two hours before we actually had to leave for school, but—as I said—I wasn't stupid.

"Hi," she said as I approached, smiling brightly.

I didn't feel like smiling at all, so I just gave a noncommittal grunt Alice was free to interpret however she liked.

"Let's get you ready," she went on, confirming my suspicions, and whisked me inside and upstairs into her bathroom, which I'd quickly come to dread. I'd never been very girly. I'd told her so many, many, many times, but it didn't stop her from trying to change that. As I didn't want to disappoint her (being part of a family also meant making concessions now and then), I let her get away with smaller things—I'd let her cut my hair, which had needed cutting anyway, only last week. Alice being Alice, however, it wasn't enough, and she wasn't the only one who felt that way.

Nothing I did and nothing I agreed to seemed to be good enough. I didn't know if that was because they were incapable of understanding the reasons behind my decisions or because they simply refused to accept them. Probably both.

It was a pain in the ass in any case.

"I've already picked something out," Alice announced as I followed her into her bathroom, which was brightly lit, not so much for her benefit as for mine because my eyesight was poorer than hers. I stared at the clothes she'd laid out on the rug in front of the bathtub, then at what I was wearing, a pair of faded blue jeans and a white button-down shirt that could use a round in the washer though I seriously doubted that the bloodstains would ever come out. Granted, the clothes Alice had bought were fancier than every single piece I owned. Fancier and not my style at all.

Raising an eyebrow and putting my hands on my hips, I turned. Alice smiled back at me innocently and, when that didn't work (which it never had so far), did her best impression of a Labrador puppy begging for a treat.

"No," I said flatly. "Pick something else or I'm not coming." I sat down on the edge of the bathtub with an air of finality and my arms in front of my chest. Alice tilted her head, moving from puppy dog to vampire chick trying to lure in a victim as she unleashed the full force of her golden, smouldering eyes on me.

I glared back at her. Alice was nothing if not persistent, but even she should have realised by now that dazzling me didn't work.

"Fine," she huffed eventually. "I'll see what I can do."

Alice busy rummaging in Carlisle and Esme's room across the hall, I started combing out my hair which was knotted, even matted in some places. It was a tedious process, and it made me wish—as it always did—that I had straight hair instead of curls, a cardinal sin as far as Alice was concerned.

"I heard you're coming with us today," Jasper said. I turned to find him standing in the doorway, a slight smile on his lips.

"Yeah, I guess I am," I replied, yanking the comb through another strand and dislodging a fistful of hair as I did. Shit. I quickly dropped it in the basin and turned on the water. Alice would kill me.

Jasper chuckled quietly.

Alice returned with a clean pair of jeans, a grey shirt with short sleeves and a long black cardigan and dropped them in front of my feet with a martyred expression. "At least put on the underwear I got you," she muttered, starting to collect the clothes I had rejected, and Jasper suddenly remembered that he'd forgotten to complete an assignment.

Assignment, my ass. I snorted as I dropped the comb, my hair finally knot-free, and stripped off my clothes before Alice had the chance to offer me some privacy. I'd quickly found out how inhibited they all were. It wasn't that I was exhibitionistic by nature—I just didn't care who saw me naked. If not for the fact that it was plain uncomfortable sometimes and could get really, really weird when a human saw you, I'd probably run around in the buff more often.

A quick shower and a heavy load of expensive conditioner later I put on the underwear Alice held out to me (very feminine and way too cute for my taste), then Esme's clothes and the pair of sneakers I wore whenever I visited them at the house. I preferred walking barefoot, but I still put them on. At least they were practically unworn.

I let Alice have her way with my hair to cheer her up, and when we emerged from her bathroom half an our later, my hair straight for once (and two full inches longer) and my lashes strangely heavy with the mascara Alice had insisted on putting on, we were ready for school.

It was still dark outside, the sun just creeping up on the horizon. I could have slept almost an hour longer, I thought glumly. I wasn't used to getting up at a specific time, and it was just weird to have a digital alarm clock tucked in between the branches of my tree. When it went off this morning, the birds that slept on the higher, thinner branches where they knew they were safe from me had taken off screaming, and I'd nearly fallen out of the tree myself.

Alice had thought of everything. I found a bag and a matching purse (with a shiny credit card, a driver's license and at least a hundred dollars cash inside) waiting for me on the coffee table in the living-room, both looking expensive. I'd gotten used to Alice spending money on me by now, though, so I didn't mind. I just hoped she didn't expect anything in return.

"Excited?" she asked, grinning.

You wish, I thought, and said, "Yeah, a little." I flopped on the couch and closed my eyes, trying to doze off until it was time to leave.

"You'll love school," Alice went on.

I gave a noncommittal grunt, pretty sure I'd hate school just as much as I always had. I could have shown her what it had been like, could have let her in on my memories, memories I wasn't able to forget because my mind didn't know how, but I didn't. I still hadn't told them about my gift, and I never even thought about it when my father was around. I hadn't had a single solitary hunting trip since I told them that I needed to hunt, too. Alice and Edward were always with me now, sometimes Emmett (who kept giving me pointers on how to perfect my hunting technique), and I was sick of it. I needed to be alone, wasn't used to being part of a family, but they didn't understand, didn't understand my need for privacy. At night, too, one of them was always there, watching over me, which was just plain ridiculous. I knew, of course, whose brilliant idea that had been.

My father had serious control issues.

A soft chuckle told me I was right. I told you to stay out of my head, I thought and opened my eyes just a little like a lazy cat to find him leaning casually against his piano, watching as I tried to ignore Alice. It was working pretty well so far. I had no clue what she was talking about. And I told you to leave me alone, I added. I could use some alone time. I closed my eyes again. I didn't want to see his response to my … request. He probably didn't give a damn about it, anyway.

"It's time to go," Alice chirped, jerking me awake. I realised, not without surprise, that I'd managed to fall asleep again after all. "You're riding with me."