"How often do you have these dreams?" Mrs. Dweller, my shrink, asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Very often. Almost every night."

"Miss Cullen, tell me everything you remember of your life, but make it brief, dear. Your time is almost up."

I raised my eyebrow. "My life story?"

"Yes, dear."

I sighed. "I remember faintly of my parents. My father was strong, I remember. My mother was beautiful. They both were. I remember a wolf. And then after that I just remember my foster parents. I live with them now."

Mrs. Dweller held my hand then pulled away. "Oh, my."

"What?"

Mrs. Dweller adjusted her glasses. "I just...saw...never mind. Your hand is so cold, dear."

I was expecting that. "Yeah, probably."

She checked the clock. "Your time is up, Miss Cullen."

I nodded. "Thanks." I got up and walked out the door.

The wind was strong when I got outside. My red hair was blowing in my face. As I walked down the street, I noticed that everyone was staring at me. My foster parents and I just moved here about a week ago, so I guess that no one was used to how pale I was yet. It seemed like everyone here was so tan. There goes the plan of me not standing out at school.

My house finally came into view. I got out my house key and opened the door. There were still boxes everywhere.

"Renesmee? Is that you?" Diane called from the kitchen.

"Yeah." I replied.

Diane came out of the kitchen to greet me. "How was the phycologist?"

"No help."

"That's okay. Are the dreams getting better?" she asked me.

I shook my head. Apparently since I was little Diane had noticed me not sleeping well at night because of the dreams. She told me that I would wake up screaming or crying.

"School tomorrow," Diane said.

"Yeah, Diane."

"You got school supplies?"

I went over to the couch and sat down and grabbed the remote. "Ya."

Diane sat down beside me. "Listen, Renesmee. I know that school for you is...difficult. Just be yourself."

"Yeah, but I'm going to go for a walk. I will be back by dinner," I said, heading toward the door.

"Okay."

I went out the door and started down the street. The park was two blocks down so I decided that the park would be a good place to think. I sat down on a bench and took out a magazine.

I was reading for a good twenty minutes when this guy sat down beside me. Usually I wouldn't care if someone sat down beside me, but it was almost like I recognized him. And the weird part...he looked like he recognized me.

The guy looked young. I think he was native, but his size was very noticeable. He was very tall and muscular. His hair was down to his ears. He was wearing a white T-shirt that looked tight on him. You could see his abs through his shirt perfectly. He was very handsome.

"Hi," he said.

I looked up from my magazine. "Hey."

"What's your name?" the guy asked me.

"Renesmee."

He smiled. "No kidding."

I wanted to just slap the guy across the face, but I didn't want to. I couldn't. I had this connection with this guy.

"And what's your name?" I asked.

"Jacob," he told me, "Jacob Black." Then he just studied me. "How old are you now, Nessie?...I mean Renesmee."

"Sixteen. Why are you asking me this?" I said.

"You just seem so familiar."

I sighed. That's a first.

He nodded. "Have you ever thought about your real parents?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Not too much. But I didn't say that I didn't live with them."

Jacob bit his lip. "I am an old friend of your mother's. I know that she gave you up."

I laughed. "An old friend? You don't look any older than 17."

He studied himself. "Yeah. I should expect that remark."

"How old are you?" I asked him.

"Seventeen," he said.

I couldn't help but notice how he looked at me. It was almost like the look he had was a little boy lost in the mall and finally found his mom. I couldn't help but think of him in the same way. It was like I knew him my whole life.

"Renesmee?"

I was too zoned out to realize that I was staring at him. I looked up at him. "What?"

"Do you want to have lunch or something?" he asked me.

I put down my magazine. "Sure."

We got up and walked over to a resteraunt not far from the park. We sat down at a table beside the window.

"Renesmee," Jacob said, "I know probably more about you than you do."

"Yeah, probably." He's probably right. Maybe I just needed to ask him the right questions about my real family, about what happened to them, and why they gave me up.

"You're just so grown up now. I just can't believe it," he told me.

"You actually know me?" I asked.

Jacob nodded. "I was there when you were born."

"How?" I said, "You would have been only one years old. There's no way you could remember."

"I was seventeen then, too," Jacob said under his breath so that no one but me could hear.

"Explain," I told him. How in the world could he be seventeen years old?

"I can't explain. I have to show you," he said.

"How?" I whispered. I had no idea why. There was almost a secrecy of us being together. It was this feeling that I shouldn't be talking to him. But I needed to stay. Like I said before, there's just this connection between us. It was like I knew him all of my life. Like deja vu. It was like I remember him more and more everytime he speaks.

"Renesmee," he said, "Have you ever been to Forks?"