"Hey there! Just a few things before we get into the story:

1) I haven't been active in this fandom since I was in middle school (which is quite a long time, considering I am now in college), so I haven't read Twilight or any of the other books recently. I was just casually watching the marathon on Freeform last weekend and next thing I know, I have the first few chapters of this done. (Such is the life of a girl obsessed with background characters.) I thought it would be a waste of efforts to just delete everything, so I figured I could post it here for people to (hopefully) enjoy. That being said, there might be some timeline errors or things that don't quite align with canon. I can't be bothered to go back and fact check, so if that is something that will bother you, I'm sorry!

2) I'm kinda lazy which means that posts will be random.

3) Everyone makes this disclaimer, so I feel like I should too: obviously, I don't own Twilight, or these characters.

4) Thank you for dropping in, and I hope you enjoy enough to stick around!

"Sissy! Sissy! Wake up Sissy!"

"What d'you want, Lily?" I groan, opening my eyes just enough to see that it's still dark out. I move to pull the blankets over my head just as Lily clambers onto my bed and latches herself to my body.

"Daddy said for me to wake you up!" She explains eagerly, and obviously very proud of this prestigious opportunity. It's so precious, I can't help the turning up o the corner of my mouth. If anyone can get me to smile first thing in the morning, it's my sister. Which is likely the reason Dad sent her to wake me, rather than doing it himself.

"And you did such a good job!" I let that hint of a smile grow until it reaches full capacity. Lily snuggles against me and the warmth of it is enough to lull me into that tranquil almost-asleep-but-not-quite stage.

"Daddy made pancakes!" She chirps, jarring me awake again. Slowly, I sit up and stretch, cringing a little at the sound of my joints popping. I'm starting to think my parent's aren't joking when they say I sleep like the dead. /span/p

"Blueberry?"

"Duh!"

I snort a laugh. Even at four and a half, Lily is picking up on my sass. My parents are thrilled.

"Don't say 'duh," I chastise. "It's rude."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure how to explain the concept of condescension to a pre-kindergartener, so i just borrow Mom's favorite line. "Because I said so."

It seems to be enough, because Lily doesn't press the issue any further. We make our way downstairs with Lily counting each step aloud and me still wrapped in my duvet. I sit down next to Mom, who is already dressed in her scrubs and is fully engaged in her cup of coffee. Tiredly, I lean my head on her shoulder. She drops a kiss on the top of my head and says, "Good morning, Kimmy."

"Morning Mom."

"Our daughter, awake and talking before noon? Can it be?" Dad lets out a dramatic gasp that earns a chuckled from Mom and an eyeroll form me.

"Before the sun," I correct.

"Even more suspicious," Dad muses. "Who are you and what have you done with Kimberly Anne?"

"You're hilarious." I make sure my tone contradicts the words and roll my eyes again for good measure. "Why so early, anyway?"

"I just thought it would be nice to spend some time as a family this morning, without rushing around."

"Dad presents a platter of pancakes that are, true to tradition, the size of my face. Feeling ambitious, I put two on my plate and slather them with butter. The first bite is heavenly. I always forget how amazing Dad's blueberry pancakes are until he makes them again. I take another massive bite.

"Not a bad way to start the week after that three day weekend, right?" Dad says, laughing at my puffed out cheeks.

"After a snow and ice mix brought even the idea of motor traffic to a screeching halt on Friday morning, school was called off. Mom decided not to go to the clinic- -a rare occurrence- -and we spent the day in our pajamas drinking tea and watching the first three Harry Potter movies.

"I smile, showing off the mushed up pancake. Dad laughs harder, but Mom swats my arm. "Don't be gross, Kim."

"Yeah!" Lily says, her mouth just as full as mine. "Don't be gross, Kimmy!"

Dad and I burst out laughing, which only encourages Lily. Mom looks at me, suddenly exhausted. "See what you've done?"

After breakfast, I went upstairs to get ready like I normally do, but then I remembered that it's only 6:47. I'm normally not even awake for another half hour. I collapse back into my bed and burrow my face into the pillow.

...

"Have a great day, sweetie!" Mom's voice is as loud as it is unexpected. My eyes fly open, and the slow, steady breaths of sleep change into a gasp so sharp it hurts my lungs a little.

"You too!" I choke out as I launch out of bed. I leave my comforter in a heap on the floor and dart out of my room, stopping only to stuff the books on my desk into my backpack.

Every morning, Mom leaves the house at 8:20 and drives to the small health clinic. Every morning, I am already dressed and packed and putting on my shoes when she calls her parting words up the stairs. But today, I don't even have time to change out of my flannel pants, or do something about the frizzy, fallen-out mess of a ponytail. I don't even have the spare two minutes to brush my teeth, but rather take a swig of mouthwash.

I'm still swishing it around in my mouth when I run out the door, Converse untied and on the wrong feet. This hinders my running abilities, as does the giant calculus book whacking against my back each time I take a step. But luckily, I'm normally very fast so even under the unfavorable conditions, I'm able to sprint the three blocks from my front door to the school with just enough time to put my shoes on the right feet before class.

When I look around the room, I'm delighted to see that I'm not the only one in a three day weekend slump. The class is a sea of hoodies and sweats. The only exception being Jared, who is wearing basketball shorts and a cutoff. I guess that could still count as pajamas, though.

Wait.

I blink a few times, just to make sure I'm not imagining Jared, but he's still there. He is hunching over his- -and a little bit of my- -half of the work table, furiously copying two week's worth of notes from Molly Warren's pristine notebook. He's there, but he's different. The haphazard knot keeping his dark curls out of his face and off of his shoulders is gone. His hair is gone. I allow myself just a second to mourn it, before a surge of delight pulses through me.

After two long weeks, he's here. As the loud voice always cracking jokes and diverting lessons, his absence was impossible to ignore for everyone. But mostly me, and not just because I've been in love with him since like, the fifth grade. Jared had left a sizable gap when he dropped off the face of the Earth. He had gradually been taking up more room at our desk, and while it had been nice to be able to rest my elbow on the surface of the table again, it was nicer to have Jared occupying that space again.

"Jared! I can't stop myself from exclaiming once I reach our table in the back corner of the room. "You're back!"

He looks up from the notebooks, that thousand-watt smile already lighting up his face, the dreary Pacific Northwest, the world. But then he looks at me, and it's gone. He just stares. Not blankly, exactly, but not focused, either. I couldn't even feel stupid about seeming so eager when I saw him, because I was too busy feeling unfathomably awkward. My cheeks catch fire.

Once I sit down, Jared shakes is head, as though he is physically clearing a thought. The smile comes back in full force. "Yeah, I figured everyone was starting to miss me."

"I was."

I have to fight the urge to clamp a hand over my mouth, but before the mortification can swallow me whole, I see Jared smile. It's not that beaming grin. This smile is soft and crooked, because he isn't trying to put it there. It's like he didn't even feel the corners of his mouth turn up. "Really?"

"Yeah," I clear my throat and respond as casually as possible, "It's been pretty boring without you."

"So you do think I'm funny!" Jared picks up right were we left off, as if it hadn't been weeks since then. He's looking at me with the smugness of someone who has just won something much more noteworthy than a semester-long debate with me.

I roll my eyes and concede, "You have your moments."

Jared considers this. He shrugs his massive shoulders, "I'll take it."

Mr Armstrong is shuffling through the rows of desks, passing out a pop quiz over the last few chapters of emTo Kill a/em emMockingbird/em. In his paper-thin voice, he jokes that he expects a perfect class score since we had an extra day to read. I can barely hear him over the chorus of groans.

I pass Jared his quiz without looking up from mine, though I have to bite my lip to keep form smiling when I hear him mutter, "Well shit."

I can't imagine he was prepared for this. I can't say I was, either. Sure, I had completed the required section on Thursday so I would be ready for Friday's discussion, but leave it to Armstrong got give a pop quiz after a long weekend. His quizzes are hard, too. Way more in depth than is necessary for a high school course.

I try not to think too hard as I scribble down my answers, dropping vocab words wherever they fit to make it seem like I know what I'm talking about. When I'm done, I write my name at the top and flip it over.

I glance at Jared's paper and see that the only pencil marking he's made is his name. Jared is staring at the paper, trying to will the answers to write themselves. I subtly nudge him with my elbow, then turn my quiz right-side-up again. Even though Mr Armstrong's ancient eyes can't see across the room, I glance up at him nervously, just to be sure. My grade in this class is dangling on the precipice of a B- and a C+, so I really can't risk getting a zero for cheating.

But the sigh of relief Jared lets out is enough to quell any anxiety about breaking the rules.

When the bell rings, I start to stand up, but Jared catches my elbow. I allow him to gently guide me back into my chair.

"Thanks, Kim." Jared appears almost sheepish, raking a hand through his hair. Or, what's left of it.

"Don't thank me yet," I warn. "I bullshitted the entire thing."

"I trust you." He says, surprising me with his sincerity. Then he really shocks me when he asks, "Do you think you could help me catch up?"

"Uhhh, I'm not sure if that's a good idea. English is not my subject." I see Jared's face fall a little. I can't imagine how stressed he must be about catching up, so I quickly add, "But if you need help with chem or calc, I'm your girl."

Jared brightens at this. So much that I feel like I'm looking directly into the sun. "Okay! D'you mind if I come over after school to get started?"

I stare at him, stunned. I know I probably look stupid, but I can't help it. Jared and I aren't really friends. Sure, we talk in class and complain about homework, and make bets on whether or not today will be the day that Armstrong remembers my name isn't "Connie"- -Jared owes me a lot of money- -but we don't interact outside the bubble of our corner desk in room

"Um, sure." I respond, standing up again. I just hope I don't sound as nervous as I feel. Jared falls into step with me as I walk into the hallway. "I can meet you out front after eighth period?"

Jared beams at me, "Can't wait."

Can't wait to what? Discuss derivatives? Get quizzed over the periodic table? My eyebrows raise into the picture of skepticism, but Jared doesn't take back his response. He just smiles and starts walking in the other direction.