Stories - everyone has one

by Cyan McKenzie

Time traveling Bella goes back to the 1980s to complete an internship and spend time with her father as her mother remarries. At first she finds the past not all that different from the future, but she quickly learns that mythological creatures exists and that she is falling for them. It closely parallels the original series, but has twists and turns of its own.

1. Chapter 1 to 3

Introduction (Chapters 1 to 3)

Stories – everyone has one. Some are perhaps more interesting than others. Time traveling Bella Swan learns this as she travels back in time to the 1980s and discovers that storybook creatures are indeed real. Not only do they exist, but she finds herself falling hopelessly in love with them even if it means risking everything. Life as an expiration date, but does love? As Bells falls further in love, she is about to learn the answer to that question. Will time run out for her? Only time will tell. Stories is a tale as old as time – full of forbidden love and dark secrets. It is a classic Beauty and the Beast meets Twilight, Pride and Prejudice, and Romeo and Juliet mash-up.

I've had a Siren character and a Bigfoot character in my head for a few years now that have wanted me to tell their stories. They seemed to mesh will with Stephanie Meyer's masterful Twilight. So, I dabbled with her characters a little and introduced them to my own characters. I am ever so grateful with Meyer's generosity to allow us this opportunity. She has some memorable and entertaining characters. Why else would thousands of us play with them as well?

Thank you, Stephanie Meyer. You have inspired countless others!

And thank you fellow readers and writers for your own inspirational creations!

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Monday, September 1, 2087 to Monday, September 7, 1987 (Labor Day)

Going back to the 1980s wasn't exactly going to be fun. And going to Houston wasn't going to be so hot either. Well, actually it was going to be hot. Oh, so very hot. And humid. And sticky. And mosquito infested. And . . . . bittersweet.

I scowled as I crammed my last acceptable t-shirt into my suitcase. I chipped a nail on the side of my metal case and turned away so that my mother wouldn't see what I had done. Forcefully and altogether too clumsily, I shoved my shirt further into the suitcase, but in the process, I succeeded in sliding my entire suitcase off my satin comforter and onto the industrial gray tiled floor of my bedroom. As my clothing spilled out onto the floor, I sighed in frustration.

My mom giggled as she and I bent down to clean up the mess. "Oh, Bella."

"Don't start on me, Mom."

Luckily, she didn't.

I looked at my outfits that were now scattered across the floor and just hoped that I had enough. Most of my futuristic clothing would be out of place in the 1980s, but my mom and I managed to come up with something we hoped would be acceptable for the time period and yet comfortable enough for me.

"You don't have to do this." My mother brushed a lock of my long, brown hair from my face. She had a sad little smile and I know that when she looked at my brown hair and eyes she thought about my father. As she withdrew her hand, she snapped her French manicured fingers against her thumb and one of her silver studded robot servants zipped my suitcase up for me before trundling it away.

"Mom," I grabbed her small hand and gave it a little squeeze, "I'll have to take a time traveling internship soon. It might as well be now while you and Phil are settling into your new life together. It just make sense."
Tersely, she nodded. Not a single strand of her polished red hair moved from her sleek up-do. "I hate to see you go." She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.

"I know, but it won't be forever."

She set the handkerchief aside and then drew me into a bone crushing hug, "Did you remember to pack mosquito spray?"

"Yes," I assured her by pecking her on the cheek. I untangled myself from her hug and straightened out my gray sundress. I knew my mom liked to see me in dresses and I knew that it was going to be hot where I was headed. I sighed though. I was showing just a little too much skin and would probably just end up being a buffet for bugs the moment I hit emerged in Houston.

Plus, I wasn't too happy that my mom reminded how I'd be eaten alive on this trip. It would be own personal hell going back in time and thwarting bugs, but going back in time beat enduring another one of my mom's over the top whiskey weddings.

Sure, I really wasn't looking forward to my self-imposed exile, but what other choice did I have? My sweet, beautiful, but flake of a mom was getting married again and this time to a professional Quidditch player. Talk about embarrassing! What kind of grown man flies around with an electric broom between his legs? Don't get me wrong, I realize that ever since the Harry Potter series came out, the made-up game of Quidditch had risen in popularity and now was even a professional sport, but still really who wants a stick up your butt all day?

Actually my mom's new boy toy wasn't that bad. He was easy on the eyes, fun, and very kind. I liked him a lot and was glad that my mom had found someone who would take really good care of her. Plus, Phil seemed to genuinely love my mom for who she was and not just her money.

I sighed. Overall, Phil really was a great guy and I really hoped things would work out for my mom. He wasn't the first to fall hopelessly in love with my wild mother, but I hoped he would be the last. My mom needed something stable and lasting in her life, especially as she grew older.

I looked at my mom. Her face was so much like mine - oval, delicate, and yet somehow strong and chiseled. I gave her a weak smile and then took her hand into mine, taking good care to hide my broken nail from her.

"Come on. Let's go," I said pulling her out of my room. I stumbled into the doorframe and we both giggled. I rubbed my shoulder as I shifted slightly to the left in an effort to pass through the door without further injury. My mom was still laughing at my clumsiness.

"I'm going to miss you." She stroked my hair the way she did when I was little.

"I'm going to miss you too," I faltered a moment at the familiar touch, but then squelched further down the long corridor filled with cherished photos and childhood memories before I changed my mind and stayed with my mom just a little longer.

Neither of us had much more to say to one another as we descended the curved staircase. What was left to be said? I looked at her again and smiled. I held onto the metal banister to ensure I didn't trip though. The last thing I needed was a broken leg. I couldn't even begin to count the times, I'd tumbled down stairs. In fact, my mom designed the stairs in this house to be curved for that very reason.

As I thought about falling, I thought about my mom again. She had falls of her own, but they were of a different kind. My mom was like a scattered brained cat. She never seemed to know what was going on, but she always landed on her feet. Then again, maybe it had something to do with her husbands. She was good at picking reliable ones and managed to keep them around awhile before she got restless and needed to move again. She usually picked good guys who weren't able to keep up with her crazy Boeheim lifestyle, but Phil was different. He was a professional athlete and had to travel. Maybe all this traveling would keep my mom's whims satisfied, and maybe, just maybe this marriage would last. I could only hope.

As I stepped into the oval foyer, I could feel myself growing stronger in my resolve. It was time to leave my mom. Having to live through four other husbands while younger was okay, even kind of nice, but now that I was a teenager, the thought made my stomach queasy. Don't get me wrong. Phil truly was a nice man, but newlyweds needed their privacy. And since I would eventually have to do my internship into the past like all high school kids my age did, why not take it now and live with my father who was a time cop stationed in Houston, Texas in 1987.

Ugh, Houston. I thought to myself. I was from Roswell, so I knew the heat wouldn't bother me, but the humidity was beyond awful, and then to add insult to injury was the whole mosquito issue. With blood as sweet as mine, I'd be covered in bites by the time I returned home.

The idea of the mosquitoes made my skin crawl. I itched my neck as robot servants stacked my bags in the trunk. Mom gave me another hug and choked back tears.

"It'll be okay," I promised her as I slide into the backseat of the car. I straightened out my dress and tried to look like a lady.

Mom nodded and blew me a kiss.

I pretended to catch the kiss and place it on my cheek which made my mom smile. She then instructed the driver to take me to the terminal. She was too busy to see me off – something about preparing for a dinner party. It didn't really matter though. Security had been heightened yet again at the time traveling terminals, and she wouldn't have been able to do more than ride in the car with me.

I waved goodbye to her one last time as the driver pulled away from the house. My mom stood on the concrete driveway with a sad little smile and a wave that was more of a hey-come-back-here gesture than an actual wave. She looked so small against our stately stucco home. I wanted to hug her again and tell her it would be okay, but I knew I had to keep moving forward . . . well, in this case backwards.

The car rolled down the circle drive and onto sleepy suburban street.

This was it. I didn't know what the past had in store for me, but I did know what the future was going to be like – parties, wedding, and travel.

Thankfully, I didn't have far to travel to the terminal though, so at least I didn't have to dwell on either my past or my future. Mom for some reason liked to be close to the time traveling terminals. I wondered if she liked the idea of being close to my dad. The idea that she might still have feelings for my dad made feel both happy and sad at the same time.

As my driver, approached the terminal which looked a lot like a small airport, I closed my eyes and released myself from the future. The past was my future now. I was going home now.

"Good luck and safe travels, Miss," the driver pulled to a stop and popped the trunk. Robotic terminal employees unloaded the car for us as I tipped my driver.

"Thank you." I said as I stepped out of the car.

My heart raced for a moment as I thought about leaving my mom, but I pushed my misgivings aside and drew in a deep breath. I just had to trust that we would both be fine. I had to keep my wits about me now and remember my training. I was about to become an 80s girl and needed to concentrate on only that. My thoughts of the past consumed me as I entered the terminal and before I knew it I was exiting the time portal into a whole new world.

Dad showed up at the terminal in a bright red station wagon. I expected as much, but I still wasn't happy about seeing it. The car was a beast to drive what with its non-existent turning radius and all. My dad didn't have any other options though. The clunker doubled as his time cop mobile. See Chuck Swan was a time cop. Or at least he was in the late twenty first century. The time to which I'd been born. Here in the 1980s, he was still secretively a time cop, but more widely known as a NASA geologist. The complexity of his job and fake job where in my opinion mind boggling, and I really hated thinking about it. I was like my mom in that way. I wasn't a fan on knowing how things like time travel and technology worked. I grew up in the lap of luxury and didn't have to want for much or even think about things. My biggest worry was what book I would read next. I loved stories. Didn't matter what medium - books, television, movies, even gossip – just so long as I could be entertained. But books were by far my favorite mode of stories.

My dad loaded the back of the station wagon with my luggage. He smiled at me with a grin that reached right up to his eyes. They were warm brown eyes that so evenly matched my own. It was funny how I hated my eye color, but adored it on my father. His eyes were so inviting, but whenever I looked at my eyes I thought they seemed dull like mud.

A trickle of sweat beaded my chin and I wiped it away. It was barely nine in the morning, but it was already hot outside. The oppressive heat and the humidity was causing sweat to pool under the straps of my backpack. As I shifted the weight of my backpack on my shoulder to avoid any further sweating, I scanned my surroundings. The Ellington airport was small and unimpressive from the looks of it. Most people didn't travel here unless they were on training missions or were law abiding time travelers like me. One side of the airport was dotted with small one level military style buildings and the other side was flanked by a blanket of oaks. What little breeze there was provided no relief from the heat and smelled strongly of rotting marshes.

After closing the back, my dad turned and winked at me. "At least the drive is a short one to the house." He seemed to know I hated the red station wagon.

"No it's fine Ch- Dad," I stumbled over my words. I knew he hated it when I called him by his first name, but Dad was hard for me to say. Mom had been married five times now and I had so many dads it was getting to be a headache trying to keep them in order.

"It's good to see you, Bells," he gave me an awkward hug and rubbed his knuckle on the top of my head like he always did.

"It's good to see you too," I said as I untangled myself from the good natured rubbing and went towards my door. Losing my balance, I teetered a bit before lunging for the handle

Chuck grinned and walked to the driver's side and opened it. "How's your mother?"

"She's fine," I assured him as I slide into the front seat without any further mishaps.

He got into the car too and started it up. The radio blared a Huey Lewis song Back In Time. I frowned at both the irony of the song and the ancient condition of the car.

I did my best to hide my frown, but I think Chuck must have noticed and misinterpreted my feelings. "I know it's not what you are used to, but I got you your own car."

I turned to face my dad. "You bought me a car?"

He shrugged, "Of course. I know you don't like this car and I am really busy with work, so I figured you'd need your own car."

"Wow. Thanks. What kind of car?"

He smiled. "Just wait till we get home. I think you'll like it."

I wasn't so sure. Chuck didn't have the best taste. I thought it would be better to get my disappointment out now while he couldn't fully see my face.

"So where did you get this car?" I eyed him suspiciously, but I kept my voice as even as possible. I was hoping to draw the information out of him without making it seem like I was anxious.

He chuckled. He probably could see right through me. He almost always could. "I bought it off of Billy Black. You remember him right?"

"No."

"He works with me and he's taken us fishing before."

"Still doesn't ring a bell," I said, but that didn't surprise me. I hated fishing, and I really tried forgetting things I didn't like.

"He has kids your age," Dad pulled out of the airport and onto a two lane road.

"Jacob, Leah, and Rachel," I furrowed my brow now as the memories started to come back to me.

Dad nodded. "Yes, that's right."

I could remember them now. Or at least vaguely. I pushed those thoughts aside. Somehow I'd gotten side tracked from my mission of trying to uncover more about my new car and I was a bit annoyed. I really wanted to get my disappointment over now.

"So what year is this car?"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about the car, honey. Billy has taken really good care of it. His son, Jacob, has even done a lot of work on updating it and all. It's about as modern as we can get here in the 1980s."

I sighed. "I know Dad. It'll be fine I'm sure." I tried smiling. It wasn't exactly his fault I'd have to adjust to living in a different time zone.

"Trust me. It's not what you are used to, but I have a feeling you're going to like it."

"Sure," I mumbled as I switched radio stations.

Robert Palmer's Addicted To Love rang out and I wasn't sure it was much better than the last song, but at least I wasn't thinking about time traveling any more.

He drove me straight home and it was there I saw my first true love. Parked in the driveway was a powdered blue Volkswagen beetle.

"It is so cute!" I clapped my hands together and looked at my dad.

"Well, I know how much you like playing the slug bug game, so when Billy said he was selling it and I found out you were coming to visit, I thought you might like the car."

"Like it? I love it!" I gushed. Sure, I was thrilled not to have to ride around town in a bright red station wagon, but I really loved the beetle. For some reason, I always liked them.

"Other kids around here have really nice cars. Sorry I can't afford those. I know it's not like what you are used to, but when you get back home, you can have nice things again."

"NO, this is perfect. I never really cared about nice things or the status they represent remember? Just books."

Chuck sighed. I knew he had a sort of love-hate relationship with my reading books all the time. Sure, reading seemed to be an intellectual pursuit and all, but the kind of books I read were more on the trashy side. Plus, he wanted me to get out and live more. He felt like life was passing me by. He tried not to scowl. We all knew he'd like me to pay more attention to something. Anything.

"Come on. Let's get you settled in." He lifted one of suitcases and groaned. "What all do you have in here? Rocks?"

"Books," I coughed.

Dad shot me the evil eye.

Tuesday, September 8, 1987

The next day was my first day at school and I was surprised that even though a couple of centuries separated this time from my own, school was still surprisingly the same. The school buildings from this time as well as mine all looked industrialized; as if they were factories churning out robots, and the kids, well, were basically robotic. For the most part, jeans and t-shirts were the standardized uniform and I blended right in.

It was the first day of school for everyone, so all our names were posted on the white tiled walls near the front door with where to go for Homeroom. We would receive our class schedule during homeroom. I did my best not to trip or make eye contact as I fought the crowd gathered around the posters with all our names.

I found the information I needed and then fought my way back out of the crowd. A nearby table contained an assortment of papers including a school map. I swiped the map off the table and carefully examined it. I located my homeroom class and took off before anyone could notice me. I was so glad my dad had already signed me up at the school and that I didn't have to do anything more than show up. The more I looked like a regular kid, the less attention I'd receive. At least that is what I hoped would happen.

I made my way down the typical white and brown speckled tile floor that was all too common in any of the schools I'd ever been in since I was twelve. The hallways were noisy and crowded, and I bumped into skinny girl wearing a jean jacket that looked as if it had been ruined by bleach.

"Sorry," I called after the girl, but she was already lost in the crowd.

Kids were milling around classrooms only clogging up the already crowded hallways. I wished they just go into their classrooms already. I had to crane my neck around them looking for classroom numbers. I did my best not to make eye contact as my eyes flickered from room to room.

At last, I found my homeroom class. The teacher greeted me at the door and handed me my schedule. I glanced at it briefly. Everything seemed to be in order. I then steeled my nerves as I crossed the threshold into the classroom – or as I liked to think of it – prison.

Many of the seats were already taken, and others, while unoccupied, had backpacks and notebooks stacked on them. I sought out a vacant seat and shrugged off my own backpack as I carefully picked my way down the long rows of desks.

I sat beside two girls. One was definitely punk. She wore ripped jeans, a flannel button down, even though it was hot outside, and a pair of black leather boots that came up to her knees. The other girl was merely wearing jeans and an old concert t-shirt.

The girl with the jeweled red Mohawk and ripped jeans leaned across her desk and examined my leather backpack. "Nice backpack."

"Thanks," I replied. "I got it this summer while I was in Italy."

"Why were you in Italy?"

"Vacation," I said. I couldn't tell them that I was on tour with my soon to be step father's Quidditch team. The sport didn't even exist yet.

"Cool. I lived in France for year with my Dad," she continued. She then stopped and looked me up and down with her shrewd sapphire blue eyes. Noticing my pale complexion she commented, "You don't look like you spent a lot of time working on your tan this summer."

I suppressed a smile. I wasn't too versed on the 1980s, but apparently tanning was a popular past time. "No, I guess I don't spend a whole lot of time outdoors."

"I'm Angela," she pushed a pair of black glasses back onto her face. "And this is Jessica, but we call her Sparks."

"I'm Bella," I looked at Jessica trying to figure out the nickname. If she hadn't been so short, I'd have guessed the nickname might have been in regards to her near smoking hot body. But then possibly it had something to do with her super tall teased mousy blond hair that looked more like the ash on a cigarette butt then it did hair. "Sparks? Why Sparks?"
"Because she likes to smoke," Angela replied.

Jessica sighed and rolled her eyes. "Angela's teasing you. That's not what my name stands for."

"Is too," Angela smiled.

Jessica shot Angela a hardened look.

Angela laughed, "Okay. Okay. It's cause of her sparkling personality. Everyone likes Jessica. Everyone."

"Well, almost everyone," Jessica took in a deep breath and shook her head slightly as she exhaled. "So what's your schedule like?"

Before I could reply, she swiped the small piece of white cardstock that had my semester's schedule printed on it. "Oh, Trig. Just like me. I'm pretty good at math, and Angela, well, she's good at everything, but especially math, so if you like need any help, just ask. Oh and you are taking French III with Angela too. Cool."

I smiled at the girls. I didn't share in their excitement about making friends and all, but I wasn't exactly in a position to say no either. I was never really a people person like my mom was. I was more of a loner like my dad. Then thinking of my dad, I took one look at these girls and wasn't sure how he'd feel about them. Angela was straight up punk and Sparks was borderline punk-chic. They could possibly be into drugs. I knew my dad would totally freak out about that. I thanked them politely and then asked Sparks if she could show me where room 130 was on my map.

"You're new?" Sparks turned to study me as she just now realized this must be the case.

Several other eyes turned my way.

I nodded. I now tried to shrink my slight body into my chair to avoid the curious gazes. I didn't want to call attention to myself. I was never a popular girl and I liked it that way. I was usually one of the invisible girls at my various schools. This was the part of moving that I always hated though. The usual get to know me series of interviews I had to get through in order for the various pecking orders to determine if I fit into their little clichés. I sighed again. Even though I hated this part, I might as well get it over with.

"Where are you from?"

"I've moved around a lot, but right now we are living in Roswell."

"Really? Roswell, that's so cool!" Angela seemed genuinely interested.

Jessica laughed, "Ever see any UFOs?"

"Sparks?!" Angela seemed a little put out by Jessica.

"What?" She shrugged.

Just then the bell rang. I frowned. I still hadn't learned where to go.

"I'll take you to room 130. That's in the English hall. I think that's Mr. Parks' room." Angela replied.

I nodded. "Yes, that's right. I have Mr. Parks for English. Is he good?"

"Mmm, yes, but he's tough," Angela replied, she readjusted her glasses.

"I'll see later for math," Sparks got up and left following after a tall, willowy blond guy sporting a ponytail. "Yoo hoo, Patrick, wait up."

"Ignore Jessica. She means well, but she has a lot of energy," Angela replied as she stood up from her desk and flung her army green canvas bag onto her shoulder.

"Hey, Ang. Who's the new girl?" A dark haired boy with a serious case of acne approached. He wore a heavily starched, short-sleeved plaid button down that was neatly tucked into a pair of equally starched khakis.

"Eric, this is Bella."

"Nice to meet you," he smiled a little too brightly. "What class do you have now?"

"English," I replied as I tucked my folded schedule into my back pocket and shouldered my bag a little tighter.

"Me too," he replied as he stepped aside so I could pass through the door first. "Who do you have?"

"Mr. Parks," I answered.

"Me too," He pressed his binder into his chest as if he were hugging it, "What about you Ang?"

"I have history," Angela looked at her schedule again. "With Mrs. Williams."

"Well, I can walk Bella to class then," he smiled broadly. He was definitely too eager.

Angela shrugged. "I will see you in French, Bella. Then maybe we can sit by each other for lunch?"

"Umm. Yeah. Maybe," I stammered.

Eric walked me to class and played the dreaded twenty question game with me. I had never been more excited for the bell to ring at the start of class in my life. In those five minutes of class passing time, I must have learned all there was to know about Eric – or at least all I wanted to know. He was a nice boy, but he was just that – a nice high school boy and I wasn't into high school boys. If I was honest with myself, I wasn't into any boys really. I loved my books and the fictional characters found within. If I were going to like any boys, it would have been one of the made-up ones I found in books or perhaps some of the yummy looking ones in movies.

The rest of the day rushed by in typical first day fashion. The only break from the day was the dreaded lunch break where a high school's clichés were clearly mapped out. Sparks lived up to her name sake and flittered from table to table as she said hello to all sorts of people. It seemed Angela was right. Jessica was one of those rare people who was accepted by all social groups. She was a real life social butterfly.

I would never be like Sparks or even like any of the popular girls. While I guess I was what some would call a natural beauty, I never wore makeup or did anything to show case my looks. Actually, I did everything I could to hide my beauty. I didn't like it when people took notice of me. I just wanted to be left alone to read.

I can't say that my plan to stay invisible always worked, but for the most part it did. While some people may have noticed me, most tended to avoid me or at least leave me alone. Maybe it had something to do with the way I hide my slender body underneath comfortable clothing. Or more likely it had something to do with how I always had my head bent looking either at my feet or at book. In fact, at my last school, my friends nicknamed me "Bent Head."

Nothing in my real life back home really appealed to me – especially the idea of being popular. So I guess books, movies, and even TV was a way for me to distract myself from my life. I cared more about stories than people. Thus, I wasn't very good at being social and only had few friends.

Today was one of those few days I actually paid some attention to anything around me. Granted, I was still prepared to use my textbooks as escape hatches into my private world if need be, but I was a little curious what life in the 1980s was like. I couldn't help but to sneak a few causal glances into reality. Again, this school life wasn't all that different from my regular life back home. School was school. And the school lunch time procedure was as familiar as chicken noodle soup.

Lunch, like the rest of my school day, passed by like a jacket blurb with my barely noticing any more kids. Sparks continued to introduce me to a host of people, but really the names were jumbled up in my head by the end of the day. I knew I'd be lucky if I could even remember a couple of the names by tomorrow.

On top of that, the teachers had already started piling on homework. I wasn't sure I'd make it through this exile after all. I had to pretend like I was a girl from this era, do chores, do homework, and make friends. Gulp! All I wanted to do was read or maybe watch some TV from this time frame. I had no idea I would have so much work! Yuck! I couldn't wait for the day to be over.

By the time I took Chuck's dog out for a walk later that evening, I was exhausted. Tiger, my dad's beagle, however, wasn't nearly as worn out as I was and pulled me further and further from our home. He'd stop only briefly as he ran from scent to scent. Each time he'd stop, he'd tangle his stupid leash and I'd be left trying to maneuver the leash around his squat, but sturdy legs.

"Slow down," I told the dog, but it was of no use. He still yanked me harder down the street. My arm was starting to get a little sore and I wasn't sure I'd ever take the dog for a walk again.

"Hey, Bella," a familiar voice called out.

I turned to see that Jessica was standing at her mail box. She had a stack of envelopes in her hand. I had been so busy fussing with Tiger's leash that I hadn't even noticed her standing there - typical "Bent Head" move.

"Nice dog. What's your name?" she cooed at Tiger as she leaned against her mailbox, but didn't pet him. Instead she flicked the stack of envelopes across her pant leg like she was slightly bored.

"Tiger," I said.

"That's a good dog," she pressed her lips together like a duck and continued to coo at him, but she still refrained from petting him.

From my perefreial vision, I saw a half-naked jogger streak by. Don't ask me why, but the scent of him was strangely intoxicating. I turned and stared.

"He looks hot," I said untwisting the dog's leash for the tenth time that walk without ever taking my eyes of the jogger.

"You mean because it is so stinking hot out here or because he's HOT!" Jessica now fanned herself with the stack of envelopes as she looked after the runner also.

"He's HOT!" I grinned, I couldn't help it. He was a real looker.

"You know him; he goes to our school."

"Oh, I wasn't looking at his face." I blushed slightly at the fact that I had actually said that to Jessica.

She laughed. "That's Edward."

Even though he was several house down, he turned to look back at us with an irritated half grin. He was too far down the street to have heard us, but something about the quizzical expression on his face made me wonder. He had curious liquid amber eyes that had a hot, smoldering quality to them, and I just knew he could trap any girl he wanted with those sticky, sultry eyes. His thick, bronze hair looked as warm and inviting as an unmade bed. In fact, I would have been happy to curl up in bed with him. His smile faltered as he turned his head back towards the pavement in front of him.

I looked down at the ground still blushing from what I'd said aloud or worse the thoughts that had followed. I couldn't believe what had gotten into me. Never in my life had I been interested in a real life boy. Then again, he didn't look like a real life boy. I pretended to fix Tiger's leash again and then once I thought I had my emotions in check, I looked back at Sparks. "I can't believe that he goes to our school. He looks like something out of a magazine, even while running."

Jessica separated from the mailbox and rolled her eyes. "Don't waste your time on him. He and the rest of his family are way too cool for school. They are super smart, but are hardly ever at school."

"Hmm. I wonder why?"

"I don't know. It's all very weird. Their dad, Dr. Cullen, came here just this summer to help some sick kid. Jacob Black."

That caught my attention.

"Did you say Jacob Black?"

She nodded. "Why, you know him?"

"Yes. A little. My father works with his father. We've meet before. A long time ago. I didn't know he was sick. My dad hasn't said anything. What's wrong with him?"

Jessica shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know if anyone does. But there are rumors."

"Rumors?"

She nodded, "But I'd rather not say. I'm not the gossiping type."

I looked at her questioningly. I had a hard time believing her last remark. She seemed exactly like the gossiping type.

"What?"

"Nothing. Well, no I guess I'd better get home soon. Have a nice night."

"Same."

After my brief encounter with Jessica, I hurried back home to start dinner. Chuck would be home soon and I thought it be nice if I made dinner for him while I was staying with him. I wasn't much of a cook, but neither was my dad, so I figured he'd be happy with whatever I made.

I wasn't really sure what sort of ingredients my dad had, so I first looked through his refrigerator. The machine was ancient or seemed like it to me. It was this big machine that hummed with a high pitch electrical sound. Like everything in the kitchen it was avocado green. I may currently have been living in the eighties, but Chuck's place was straight up seventies. I didn't see much of interest in the fridge, but I was also a bit distracted. My mind kept wondering about Jacob Black. I wondered why Chuck didn't say anything about Jacob being so sick that a specialist had to be called into town.

I pushed those thoughts aside so that I wouldn't be distracted. I needed to come up with dinner plans. Any questions I might have had about Jacob's conditions were just going to have to wait until Chuck came home from work.

I rummaged through the pantry and pulled out a package of spaghetti and a jar of Ragu. I set these aside on the counter while I explored the kitchen cabinets looking for cooking utensils. It didn't take long to find the pots and pans. I filled one of the pots with water and set it on the stove. I examined the knobs for a few minutes as I tried to remember how to work the stove. I then dumped the jar of spaghetti sauce into another pot and set this next to the pot of water. I turned the knobs to high and waited a few minutes to make sure everything was working properly.

I then went back to the fridge and pulled out stuff to make a salad. Tiger sat at the back door with his head on his paws obviously waiting for his master to come home.

"Waiting for Chuck?" I asked the dog.

Tiger lifted an ear, but the rest of his body was still trained on the back door.

I smiled. I was glad Chuck had a pet and wasn't entirely alone. His line of work made it hard to have a family. He had to go back and forth in time. It would be too hard to drag a family all over creation like that. But a dog. He could do that with a dog. And Tiger seemed perfectly happy. It seemed like a good pairing. Maybe a little lonely, but not entirely.

By the time I finished making the salad, the water was boiling and spitting like a geyser. I emptied the package of spaghetti into the hot water. I took a big spoon and stirred the pot. The Ragu sauce was also now popping like lava so I gave that pot a quick stir too.

Tiger scampered to his feet and made a howling bark that started me so much that I dropped my spoon into the boiling water.

I turned just in time to see the back door open. Chuck walked in and greeted Tiger.

"Tiger is loud," I said as I opened the utensil drawer and pulled out another spoon.

Chuck laughed as he knelt beside his friend. "How was your day?"

I had to look back at my dad to see if he was talking to me or the dog. Chuck was looking at me, but rubbing the dog like he was kneading dough.

"My day was fine," I stirred the Ragu.

"Were people nice?"

I shrugged. "They were okay."

"Did you make any friends?" He stood up and walked towards me. Tiger followed his tail wagging.

I shrugged again as I rummaged through the cabinets looking for a strainer. "I guess. Hard to tell at this point."

Chuck smiled at me encouragingly and then he seemed to notice my search. "What are you looking for?"

"A strainer."

He opened a cabinet and pulled one out for me.

"Thanks," I said taking it from him and placing it in the sink.

"What are you making, Bells?" He looked over my shoulder and into the pots. He seemed a little more cautious than quizzical.

"Spaghetti," I replied with a sad little smile. I guess he knew that I probably wasn't much of cook – although I was far better at it than my mom. This fact also made me sad. Maybe my dad was remembering her.

He nodded and then walked over to the cabinets. He opened the door and pulled out two plates. I took these to the small oval shaped kitchen table and set them on the harvest gold placemats. He continued setting the table while I drained the pasta and looked for a bowl to put it in.

Once everything was in place, we sat down to eat it.

"Looks good, Bells," Chuck gave me an appreciative smile.

"Thanks." I smiled back. Tiger shuffled over to me and rested his head on my lap.

"Tiger," Chuck said in a deep voice that said all too clearly to desist.

Tiger whined, but complied. He went back over to his bowl and laid down. It was at this point that I remembered that I forgot to feed him.

Scooting my chair back as I stood, I bit my lower lip, "Oops. I forgot to feed him."

"Sit back down, Bella. He can wait. So tell me about your day."

I went through the list of names that I could remember, but he didn't recognize them.

It wasn't until the end of our meal that I broached the subject about Jacob Black. "So I heard that Jacob Black is sick."

My dad frowned and folded his napkin. "Yes, he is."

"Oh, no! That's terrible. Will he be okay? I heard that he has a specialist even. What's wrong with him?"

Chuck held up his hands, "Whoa, slow down there, Bells. Not so many questions."

I squirmed in my seat.

"Yes, Jacob is sick, but don't worry. He probably won't die from it. He just has a condition that he will have to learn to live with. Or so that's what the doctor thinks, but they are still trying to figure it all out."

"And what's his illness or what do they think it is?"

"Bells. It's late and I don't want to talk about it right now. It's just too sad and I have a lot on my mind right now. But I promise you he will be fine. . . and don't talk about it with others, okay? People are spreading all sorts of terrible rumors right now."

"But Dad?"

"I'm sorry, Bells. I don't want to talk about it tonight. I've had a bad day. We will talk tomorrow. I promise. . . . I don't know much, but I'll tell you what I know," Chuck rose up from the table, grabbed his plate, and carried it to the sink. He splashed some water on to it and then placed it in the dishwasher. "Night, Bells. I've had a long day and am going to go to bed. Thanks for dinner though."

"Sure Dad," I said pushing the leftovers around my plate.

He walked back over and kissed the top of my head. "I'm just not used to having another person around. Looks I might need to make some adjustments too."

"It's fine, Ch- dad. I'll see you tomorrow. Good night," I squeezed his large hand that he had placed on my shoulder.

He returned the squeeze before leaving. "Oh, and don't forget to call your mother."

"I won't."

I looked down at my plate and stared at the remaining food. I didn't have much of an appetite now. I wondered why my dad wouldn't tell me anything about Jacob. Surely, he'd tell me right? Was it that he was worried I couldn't keep a secret? Really? He should know that I could keep a secret. Sure, I was terrible at keeping secrets as a child, but for the past two years, I'd been training to learn to keep secrets and come up with quick responses so that I could complete my time travel internship. Maybe my dad was worried that if I had too many secrets, that I couldn't keep my biggest one.

After mushing the last of my pasta into paste, I retreated from the table and scraped my leftovers into Tiger's bowl and then placed my dish into the dishwasher. I then poured dog food into Tiger's bowl and refreshed his water bowl. Tiger looked at me askew, but seemed pleased.

By the time all the kitchen chores were complete, I was still worried about Jacob. What kind of serious diseases were around in the 1980s. I trudged upstairs and looked at the clunker of an outdated computer sitting on my desk. I ignored that machine and went into my closet and pulled open an old jewelry box that my dad had once given me. It was from the 1970s and had this cute little plastic ballerina that twirled slowly to music when it was opened. I loved that box. Inside I pulled out a flat metal tablet the size of my hand. The front was a screen and when I tapped it, lights and a keyboard appeared. I typed in diseases from the 1980s and the first thing that popped up was AIDS. I looked at the information and was shocked.

My heart folded as I tapped off the screen and secured my futuristic computer back into my childhood jewelry box. Jacob couldn't have AIDS could he? I was determined not to worry about anything. Worrying never did any good, but I was resolved to broach the subject again with my dad first thing in the morning. Surly, he'd be in a better mood once he had a good night's sleep.

It was then I yawned. I looked at the clock. 8:00. I yawned again. I was beyond tired. Life in the 80s was far more exhausting than I had anticipated.

Time for bed, I thought to myself. Better check in with Mom first though.

I sent my mom a quick message to let her know that I loved her and that I was going to bed for the night. Next, I went through my nightly routine the best I could considering I was living in a different era. Thankfully, I had my own bathroom and wouldn't have to share with my dad. I was a teenage girl and needed my privacy.

Like everything in my dad's house, the bathroom was also dated. The long, narrow room was covered in giant hot pink daisy wallpaper. The stems of the flowers were the exact shade of green as the shag carpet. I felt like an ant walking among the garden.

I noticed that next to the toilet was a basket with a stack of National Geographic magazines. I picked up the basket and trotted to the other side of the bathroom. Ever since I'd read Harry Potter, I had this weird thing where I couldn't go to the bathroom if there were pictures of people nearby. I felt as if they were watching me. I know the story is fiction and all, but I just have this fear that pictures might come to life while I'm using the restroom. I know. Clearly, I read too much.

After I got everything in the bathroom situated the way I wanted it, including my supplies, I was ready to call it a night. I rushed through my nightly routine and returned to my room. Yawning, I crawled into bed and shut my eyes on my strange new world.

It rained that night and hard. Needless to say, I didn't sleep well. I twisted and turned trying not to think about Jacob. The storm raging outside mirrored the pain and confusion I felt over Jacob. Every time it thundered, I jumped. I wasn't used to such strong storms and was beginning to wonder if maybe I was in the middle of a hurricane.

I pushed the covers off and sprinted towards Chuck's door, but stopped half way when I could hear his heavy snores over the rain. It was only then I remembered that storms in Houston were common. I returned to my bed and eventually drifted off to sleep as the storm eventually faded into morning.

Wednesday, September 9, 1987

The morning was bright and sunny, but the ground outside my window was as soggy and was littered with a strewn of leaves and branches. I scratched the corner of my cheek and sighed. It would be extra humid this morning. The idea of the thick oppressive heat weighed heavily on my heart as I trudged down the stairs looking for Chuck. I had hoped he'd tell me about Jacob. To my dismay, I found a hastily scribbled note on the table from my dad wishing me a good day and informing me he had to go in early.

I pushed the note aside and made room for my bowl of cereal. This exile was turning out to be exactly that - an exile. Chuck was hardly around and even when he was, he was broody. Scratch that. He was so quiet that he was just a . . . mystery.

School wasn't much better. Most people continued to ignore me as was typical in a school this large, but still there was those brave few who would come out of their protective shells and approach me.

The questioning began as soon as first period started.

"You're Bella Swan aren't you? I'm Mike Newton. Jessica introduced us in the hall yesterday."

"Yes," I smiled politely at Mike. I could tell right way that Mike was one of the more popular kids. He had a cute, clean-cut face, perfect blond hair, and a dimpled smile. On top of that he was dressed like a prep in khaki shorts and a light blue polo that made his eyes pop.

He sat down in the chair next to mine and I could see dark-haired Eric glare at him. Eric scowled but he didn't say a word. He picked a thread off his neatly pressed button down, but kept his eyes trained on me.

"I heard you moved here from New Mexico," Mike unzipped his backpack, took out a blue folder, and laid it on his desk.

"Yes," I replied tapping my pencil on top of the book I was reading, hoping he'd pick up on the hint that I wanted to be left alone.

He laughed. "So how's the humidity treating you?"

I smirked and then even laughed a little. Something about Mike was welcoming which coming from a popular kid was refreshing. "Horrible," I confided.

Mike laughed again as he ran a hand across his short blonde hair. "It took me a while to get used to it too."

I slipped a bookmark into my book and closed it. "You're not from around here?"

Mike smirked and then looked around, "This town is fairly new. Lots of us have moved here over the years. But no. I'm from California. San Diego actually. I moved here when I was about ten."

"Your mom or dad work at NASA?"

His dimpled smile expanded. "You'd think, but no. My dad owns a boating store near the lake. My whole family helps out at the shop. Mom included."

"Oh," I was surprised that at least one of his parents didn't work at the Johnson Space Center.

"You ever been out on the lake?"

I nodded. My brows furrowed as I remembered Chuck taking me out fishing, which I loathed. "A few times when I was littler with my dad, but I haven't been in years."

"I'll have to take you some time. This weekend?"

"Umm. This weekend?"

He nodded as he leaned in close.

"I'm not sure. I'll have to check with my dad." My stomach winced. I wasn't so sure about this idea, plus I didn't want to encourage him, but really the problem was that I wasn't a fan of the great outdoors. Then again, I supposed I needed to step outside my comfort zone a little a start to experience life. I knew that would make Chuck happy. I looked into Mike's smiling blue eyes and couldn't help but to smile in response, "But I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Great, here's my number." He handed me a ripped piece of notebook paper that was folded in half.

"Thanks," I took the slip of paper and tucked it into my English folder.

The bell rang and Mr. Parks waltzed into the room carrying a stack of paper piled up to his chin. He dropped the stack onto his Spartanly clean desk. I groaned to think how much work those papers represented.

"Problem?" Mike leaned forward and folded his hands his hand over his blue notebook.

I picked at the hot pink polish I had hastily dabbed on my fingers last night in an effort to fit in. "That's a lot of homework."

Mike chuckled, but Eric answered. "That's Lake for ya. The teachers want to prepare us not just for college, but for Ivy League schools."

I groaned again.

Turned out Eric was right though. The rest of morning classes turned out like my English class. Each of my teachers entered the class with stacks of paper. I wondered how many trees had been sacrificed just so we would learn.

After lunch another storm blew in from the South. This one wasn't as blustery as the one last night, but it stayed around much of the afternoon. By the time Physics, my last class of the day, rolled around, I couldn't wait to get home. But as I looked outside, I dreaded the idea of sloshing through the rain to my car. I hoped that the rain would be over by the time the school day ended. In New Mexico, the rain probably would have ended, but here in Houston, well, it could rain nonstop for days. I must have been staring at the weather too long because I was almost late to class. By the time I made it to class, most of the seats were already filled. I quickly took a seat. I flipped open a book like I usually did and hid myself behind it as a barrier.

As soon as the bell rang, someone slipped into the seat next to mine. The smell of freshly baked sugar cookies filled the air. I looked up from my book.

What could smell so good in a Physics' classroom I wondered?

I turned to see that the cute jogger, Edward, was next to me. His back was long and rigid and he was perched on the edge of his seat with his hands gripping the edge of his desk. His brows were drawn so tight, I thought he'd burst a blood vessel, but the look he shot me chilled me to the bone.

The expression on his face was so comical though, I nearly giggled . . . or maybe my mirth was caused by nerves. Either way, I couldn't register the emotions playing out across his face. While his brows were drawn together like butt-cheeks, his eyes were large startled looking pools of latte shifting slightly as if they'd just been stirred. And yet his eyes were darkening with intensity as he looked at me unwaveringly. The funny part was that although his eyes and brows had a look of confusion and malice, the bottom half of his beautiful face looked tempted as he nipped his lower lip with his teeth. I looked into his stunning face and saw that his nose, checks, and mouth looked as if he just been caught in mid sniff. His eyes were watery now as he continued not to breathe. He scooted away from me as he clenched his fist around his composition notebook.

I looked away from Edward. What on Earth could possibly be wrong with him? Did I smell bad or something? I sniffed my perfume. Chanel. How could that be offensive? It was an expansive brand.

I tried not to think about Edward, who it seemed still hadn't drawn a breath, and concentrated instead on Mrs. Patterson's lesson. I couldn't help myself though. I had to sneak another peek at Edward. I remembered all too well his rippled chest and muscular arms. I wanted another look. The shirt he wore now was a disappointment. It marred the true beauty of his bare chest. Sure his muscles fought against the fabric of his t-shirt making a bid for escape and that in itself was a welcoming sight, but covering his body with clothes was like covering a sports car.

I cautiously drew my gaze to his face. His face was turned away, but I could see that his jaw was clenched. What was his deal?

My mind raced.

Why was he acting this way? Did he not like me? Why? What had I done? Or did he know that I found him attractive? Was he repulsed by me?

I clenched my pencil in frustration and let my hair down like a brown shield that would forever separate us. I blinked a few too many times, but kept my eyes trained on the dull green chalkboard at the front of the class. Scientific equations were scribbled across every inch of the board. Looking at the work made my head hurt, but I knew I couldn't look away or I'd be tempted to stare at Edward.

Do not look at him I repeated to myself, but it was hard not to. I even gripped the shiny plywood surface of my desk with my other hand in a Herculean effort not look.

Mrs. Patterson launched into her lesson and I tried to concentrate on her too pink of eyeshadow and the glossiness of her drugstore lipstick.

Once the bell rang at the end of class, Edward was up and out of the door quicker than I would have thought humanly possible. I sighed to see him go, but was distracted by yet another round of twenty questions. Mike and Eric both bantered with me about the day's lesson while I gathered my belongings.

I looked at the window as I zipped up my backpack and then struggled to get into my raincoat. "It's still raining cats and dogs out there."

"I can walk you to your car," Mike held up an umbrella as if it were a sword and he was a knight coming to my rescue.

"Thanks," I smiled and somehow tripped as I fell over my own two feet trying to get out of the chair.

Mike caught me and steadied me. "We can talk more about what type of boating we should do on the lake this weekend."

That caused me to pause. "What do you mean? You have more than one type of boat?"

Mike laughed. "Yeah. My dad owns a boat store remember? We have a couple of boats of our own, but sometimes we have access to the boats we sell. You know, so we can test them out and make sure they are working. So I can take you canoeing, fishing, skiing, and I can probably arrange sailing. Or we can just ride around the lake and hang out on a pontoon boat."

I was impressed and my face must have shown it.

"Don't be impressed. It isn't much. It's not like I have a yacht – though I'd really like one."

"Oh, yes. A yacht would be nice," Eric chimed in, clearly not wanting to be left out of the conversation. And it was a good thing too because I had almost forgotten he was there. I wasn't used to so many people paying this much attention to me. It was hard to keep track of everyone. Plus, I was still trying to get my bearings on how to get around the building.

The two boys both walked me to my car. As we walked, we talked. The conversation was bizarre. I felt like I was in some sort of weird cocktail mixer as both boys tried to pour on the charm and out-do one another. Eric talked about his various chess championships and debate awards while Mike talked about his baseball games and all the fun outdoor things he liked to do. As the boys droned on, it became clear to me that neither of them was my type. I needed someone who could have been the perfect blend of the two. A little athletic and a little academic, but totally into reading.

Even though we had transitioned from indoors to outdoors, the boys still stayed by myside. The rain came down in sheets, but they popped up their umbrellas and shielded me. Neither Eric nor Mike seemed deterred by the rain and I wondered what was wrong with them. What was so interesting about me that they would so gauntly protect me from the rain?

"This is my car," I said slipping a little on the slick concrete. I had hoped the boys would take off at this point, but instead they walked me over to the door and held up their umbrellas even higher as I unlocked the car.

Rain splattered the umbrellas and rolled down the sides like drippy fingers. I was still dry, but both boys now had droplets of rain running down their exposed arms.

"Well, thank you," I said opening my car door. I then ducked between them and climbed into my car.

We said our good-byes and Mike closed my door for me. Both boys stared at me a moment, and then once they were satisfied that I was dry and safely within my car, the two boys bolted and parted company. I started up my car and fumbled around until I found where the windshield wipers were located. It was then that I saw him through the blurred, rainy window of my car. My second true love.

He carried a stack of books that reached his chin. Ah and what a chin! It was firm and square befitting heroes of lore. I could only see his profile, but I think Michelangelo must have used him as the model of David. His cheekbones were like chiseled marble. He was tall and powerfully built very much like the adored David statue. He had long black hair that was pulled into a low ponytail and he walked with such animal grace it was hard not to watch him. In fact, had he been a woman, I would have thought Lord Byron and written the poem She Walks in Beauty Like the Night about him.

He walked through the rain as if he didn't have a care in the world. I watched him until he disappeared into a red pickup truck three spaces down and across from where I was parked. He was gorgeous and he liked to read. My heart fluttered, but as he pulled his truck out of the parking space, my heart stopped. On the back of his bumper was a sticker that read Clear Lake Falcon Football. Then my heart sank like an anchor. He was a jock and not just a jock, but a football player. They were the worst. Usually full of themselves and obnoxious. Ugh! And he probably wouldn't even notice me. What a shame. He was cute too!

Slowly, I eased my way out of the parking lot and drove the whole way home with nothing more than the whooshing sound of my windshield wipers to comfort me. My heart had a dull ache and my head pounded like the rain. The day had been long and now this weather really had me down. I was beginning to miss my hot, sunny, but dry environment.

The phone was still ringing when I finally made it into Chuck's house.

"Hello," I lifted the handle and fumbled my way around the curly chord. I wasn't use to such an old fashioned phone.

"Hello, Bella? This is Jessica."

"Oh, hey Sparks," I ventured back unsure why she was calling me.

"I hear that Mike is taking you out boating this weekend?" Jessica sounded slightly miffed.

"Yeah, maybe. How'd you hear about that already?" I was confused. He'd only just asked me. Maybe someone in class had overheard our conversation and told her.

"Doesn't matter. Just wanted to let you know he's a good guy. . . " she sounded sad or maybe she was just holding back something else about him.

"That's good to know," I assured her. "Maybe we can get a group together and you can go too?"

"I'd like that," she perked up on that.

"Jessica. . . " I started to ask her about the boy from the parking lot, but decided it against it. For one thing we were at a big school she might not even know him, but for another, I got the feeling that Jessica was a bit of a gossip.

"Yes?"

"Edward was at school today and he's in my Physics' class."

"Lucky you," she giggled.

"What do you mean?" I coiled the chord around my index finger as I sat down on the green shag carpet that seriously needed to be updated. Tiger waddled over and sat beside me and demanded a thorough petting.

"I would probably fail that class with all the staring and day dreaming I'd be doing of Edward. At least you have some nice scenery in that class what with Mike and Edward."

"Oh," was all I could say. I thought about asking her about Edward's weird behavior, but decided against it. I was beginning to think she'd spread that news around too and then as if to confirm my suspicions, she launched into a blaze of daily gossip. By the time she was done my ear was burning from having the hard plastic surface pressed up against it so long.

"I'm sorry, Sparks, but I need to take the dog for a walk now that it has stopped raining. I have to hurry too because I still need to get a start on dinner and homework."

"If you walk this way, I'll come out and meet you," she suggested.

"Umm, okay, but I can't really be gone long. Dinner, homework, remember?"

She laughed. "See you soon."

Then with a click she was gone.

I hung up the phone, pushed Tiger off me, and stood up. "Come on, Tiger," I sighed, "let's go for a walk."

I didn't have to ask him twice. We were out the door and down the street at rocket speed. His squat little legs were strong and fast. We raced down the street with me flying behind.

Jessica was outside waiting for us. "Hey, Bella. Hey there, Tiger." Her voice was again in that who's-a-good-boy high octave, but she still didn't pet him.

"Hello, Sparks," I untangled my leg from the leash. Tiger wanted Jessica's attention, but she still deemed not touch him. "Let's walk."

She prattled on about wanting new clothes and needing to take a shopping trip to the mall. She stopped for a moment and looked me over. "You should come with me."

"I'd like that," I replied. She was probably right. My clothes from the future weren't the best choices, but I went through and tried to find things that would fit in. I didn't have much that worked though.

"So what's the story on Jacob Black?" I asked. I know my father said that I should be careful talking about him because there were so many rumors about him and I knew Jessica was probably one of them spreading rumors too. Still, I was curious and I knew that she had information.

She pushed her bangs out of her eyes and looked at me. "Like I said it is soooo sad. He is like soooo gorgeous! Tall, angelic, black haired-"

"Yes, yes. I know what he looks like remember?" Although admittedly I didn't remember much about him. Her description made me think of the boy from the parking lot though.

"Well, like I said he is sick. No one knows with what though." She looked at me again.

I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"Keep in mind and I really don't know anything. I think he was some sort of immune problem like that bubble boy-"

"The bubble boy?"

"You know the bubble boy." She looked at me like I was crazy not to know who the bubble boy was.

"Oh, the bubble boy," I said trying to hide my confusion.

"Or maybe he has AIDS." Jessica lowered her voice and looked down at her feet.

"Oh," I said and I could hear the sadness in my voice.

She then looked up and said, "But I think he has some other condition like maybe some sort of cancer. I don't know. I hope it isn't AIDS. Everyone is sort of freaked out about it right now and no one would want to be around Jacob if that was the case. . . . That would be really sad too. Jacob is such a nice guy."

Tiger let out of one his howling barks and yanked on his leash so hard that I fell to the ground. An orange tabby dashed across the street and Tiger did his best to chase after it. He didn't get far with me at the other end of the leash, but he did manage to drag me an inch or so across the concrete pavement.

"Dang it, Tiger. Stop," I yelled and balled my fist tighter around the leash least he get away.

Tiger bellowed some more, but at least he stayed put. With Jessica's help, I got back onto my feet and it was then I noticed that I had scrapped my elbow bad enough that I was bleeding.

"Why don't you come in and get cleaned up?" Jessica suggested.

I shook my head. "No, it's not that bad. It'll keep until I get home and I probably should be getting back. Thanks though."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

As I made my way back home, Edward turned the corner. He was out for what I presumed was his nightly run. As soon as he saw me, he blanched. His entire body went rigid and I swear that he wasn't breathing. He turned on his heal and rounded the very corner he'd just taken.

I fought back tears. I was mad, and for some reason when I was mad, I would often cry. What was his problem? Was I that offensive? I didn't notice the tears until one of them burned into my fresh wound. Great, I thought. I'm out in public and I'm crying.

I wrapped my arms around my chest and chased Tiger all the way home.

Chuck was home by the time I returned and had already started on dinner.

"Hey, how was your day?" He asked as he flipped a pork chop that was frying in the pan.

"Fine."

Something in my voice must have caught him off guard because he turned around.

"You've been crying." He frowned, "And you've been hurt. What happened?"

I laughed it off. "You know me, Dad. I'm clumsy as it is and then Tiger here saw a cat. I fell. It hurt at first, but it doesn't now and it is really just a scrape. I think I was more embarrassed than hurt and that's why I was crying."

"Sit down, honey, while I clean it up."
I rolled my eyes at him. "Dad, I'm not a child. I can take care of it." I hung up Tiger's leash and made my way to the bathroom.

"Okay, then. First aid kit is in the linen closet." Chuck called after me.

"I remember," I replied. His words stung a little. I could remember countless falls I'd taken as a little girl. And every time I needed patching up, Chuck would have to go into the linen closet to bring out the kit. I smiled at the memories as I pulled out the kit and took it into the bathroom.

After sufficiently bandaging up my elbow, I returned to the kitchen. Chuck was nearly finished so I went ahead and set the table.

"So how was your day, Dad?" I set down the plates and arranged the silverware as I listened to his brief recanting of the day.

"So it was a better day than yesterday?" I asked once he'd finished talking.

"Yes," he slide the pork chops off the pan and onto a plate. He then placed the plate on the table.

"So what exactly happened yesterday?"

He placed the pan into the sink and then looked at me briefly. "You know I can't tell you everything about my work," he replied as he then turned his attention to getting potatoes out of the oven. "But some anomalies, and I don't know what, were reported at Ellington, and we have been notified that there has been a possible technology breech or stowaway this past week."

"And what does that mean?" I asked although I had some idea as to what that meant.

"Well, we don't know just yet. It is still under investigation."

I nodded. I now understand why he was so aloof yesterday. Stowaways cold be a real problem. It wasn't uncommon for criminals to try and disappear into the past.

"So," I said changing subjects as we both sat down to eat, "Are you ready to tell me about Jacob?"

Dad cut into his pork chop savagely. "It's not good. Just warning you."

"What's not good?"

I twirled my fork on the table and watched Chuck. He set his knife and fork down and looked at me.

I stared back.

My dad folded his hands together and pressed the ridge of his knuckles to his chin and lower lip. He placed both of his elbows onto the table and sighed.

"The Blacks are nephilims."

"Angels-"

"Half angels,"

I nodded. I knew what the term Nephilim meant. I wasn't all that surprised. I'd heard rumors from my mom of their existence and that they were even guardians to time travel, "Is that what's wrong with him?"

"No. Not all. It's much more complicated than that."

My dad twiddled his thumbs but didn't say anything. I waited.

"He's been bitten-"

"By a snake?" I pulled my feet up off the floor instinctively. I didn't like snakes and Houston was crawling with them and the venomous kind too.

"I wish."

I gave Chuck a quizzical look.

"By a vampire," he blurted out.

I stopped twirling my fork and looked at Chuck. "Wh. . . wh. . . what?" I stammered.

"I know. I know. This is crazy. Nephilims. Vampires. But it is true." My dad's hands parted and he placed them on the table top.

I watched for a long moment as I tried to wrap my head around what he was telling me. He wasn't much of a jokester plus he looked so serious. I had to belief him. What he was telling me was unreal, weird even, but I sensed it was the truth. But what was I to do with this information?

"So now what?"

Chuck drummed his fingers on the table a moment. "Like I said. He won't die. He can't now that he's immortal. The problem is that not only is he a vampire, but he's a Nephilim. That makes him a real threat or could."

"But you don't think so do you?"

"No, of course not. This is Jacob. He's always been such a kind person. I'm not worried about that, but I'm worried that vampires might be threatened by him or that they might want to sway him into doing things he may not want to do," my dad sighed and he sounded like a steam engine. "Like I said this is all very new and complicated and confusing. The Black family is trying to figure things out. Jacob is being kept under surveillance and we have even called in a vampire specialist."

"Dr. Cullen," I said.

"Yes. He has a special set of skills that will help in this area."
"What sort of skills?"
Chuck stopped his drumming, "He will teach Jacob to live off animal blood as opposed to human blood."

"Okay, that doesn't sound so bad. Is it possible though?"

Chuck assured me that it was, "But it won't be easy for him. He will be tempted."

"So he won't die, but he is still in danger and could be a danger to others?" I tried to sum up what my dad had just told me about Jacob's condition.

"Yes, but he's also Nephilim so his will power should be stronger than that of humans. Plus, he's kind. I don't think he'll be a danger. I really don't. The problem is other vampires. We just need to make sure he doesn't attract other vampires that might want to harm or sway him." My dad repeated himself as he attacked his pork chop again, stabbing it into smaller pieces.

"I thought you said he wouldn't die."
"Vampires can still be killed."
"Oh, that's right. Sunlight, stakes-"

"No, that's not true. Sunlight won't kill them, neither will stakes. Fire, and I'm talking an intense fire, is one of the few things that'll kill them."

"Oh,"

"And Bella. I want you to know that the Cullens, while not a threat, they are also vampires."

"What?" I gasped. Now I knew what Edward's problem was. He was a vampire.

"Don't be alarmed. They can control their urges. Or at least most of them can. Just stay away from the Hales – especially Jasper. My understanding is they are all well-disciplined, but that Jasper has had a few lapses. But I would say that you really don't have to worry about them."

"Dad?"

"Look, these vampires have special skills that Jacob needs right now. One of them can see into the future and the youngest one, Edward, can read minds."

"What?" I was mortified now. Had Edward been able to read my thoughts? No wonder he acted so strange around me. I was a freak from the future who thought he was incredibly hot! How embarrassing!

"Look, they will help and protect Jacob. It'll be okay. And Billy needs all the help he can get. He still has work to do. He can't babysit Jacob all the time. And I need Billy Black's help right now. Strange things have been happening lately and I can't afford for Billy to have to quit his research so that he has to leave and take care of his son. Jacob will be fine. Or as fine as he can be in his new condition."

I was taken so far aback that I couldn't think straight. This was just crazy. What kind of story book world had I found myself in? Maybe I had fallen asleep while reading one of my books and this was all just a dream? But no this was real. Angels and Demons walked the planet. My world would forever be altered. I knew my dad was speaking the truth, but I wished he wasn't. My head hurt a little. It was hard enough living being a teenager, but I already had so many other things on my plate right now that I didn't need more secrets.

I sighed. What else could I do? Nothing really. And in the end, these secrets weren't really mine, so what did it matter to me?

I looked into the dark depth of my dad's eyes and could see for the first time layers upon layers of secrets that would take me years to uncover.

"You are not just a time cop are you?"

He looked back at me. "No."

I waited.

Nothing.

"I've got all night."
He smiled, "I've got longer."

I huffed. "You'll have to tell me eventually."

He shook his head. "Not all of it, but maybe someday some of it."

I crossed my arms. "Really? How can you be so insufferable?"

"Sorry, Bells. Secrets are just that way, and I wouldn't wish them on anyone. It's a rather big burden and you're just a kid."

"I'm nearly seventeen."

He knuckle rubbed my scalp. "Kid."

"Cut it out. Stop that. It hurts," I shooed his hand away.

"And so does the truth," he placed his hands back onto the table.

I looked at him and knew that he wouldn't give me any more information tonight.

"Too many secrets," I picked at my food.

"I agree, but eat up," he pushed a bowl of peas in my direction. "You'll need your strength if you plan on keeping up with all these fairytale creatures."
I looked back at him. He knew me only too well. I loved stories, but for the first time I had actually taken an interest in real life.

Chuck gave me a sad little look as if he realized how much life had just changed and then as if he didn't want to admit it, he quickly brought up other topics.

"So? Plans for the weekend?"

I narrowed my eyes at my dad. "Really? So, this is how you are going to play it?"

He nodded.

I folded my arms and stared at him. He was too busy shoveling peas into his mouth to notice.

I huffed, but went on to answer him, "Well, I have been invited to go boating with some friends. Would that be alright?"

"Probably. What kind of boating?"

"Plans are still being worked on, but I'll let you know what we come up with soon. Oh, and I was thinking maybe I should visit with Jacob."

Chuck paused and thought about it. "Maybe or maybe you can see my work. I have some things we should begin to take a look at and maybe talk some more."
I eyed him. "More secrets?"
He smiled wryly.