I don't own any of the characters. Either Stephenie Meyer or Meg Cabot owns them. I do own the town (even though, as of now, I haven't given it a name quite yet) so it isn't real. This story (excepting the prologue) takes place in 2015. Bella is, of course, a vampire. Jesse is no longer a ghost. I am going to pretend that Suze graduated the same year as Bella (so around May 2008, in this story). This is the first story I have written with characters from the Mediator series, as well as my first crossover, just so you all know. This is the prologue, in which Bella and Suze meet for the first time (at a summer camp in Texas between the eighth and ninth grades). That is everything, read & review, please.

July 2004…

Bella P.O.V.

Why was Mom making me do this? She knows I don't want to. She knows I don't like being away from her, because she is so likely to do something, well, stupid. And besides, I don't make friends well. I am too awkward around people my own age. With any luck, we won't be required to play many sports. That would be disastrous. At least it is somewhere warm.

I get off the plane and board the bus, ready for the hour long car ride. I find an empty seat, grab a book and begin to read. About five minutes later, just as I'm getting into the book, another girl comes up to me. "Is anyone sitting here?"

"No." I take my carry-on bag off the seat next to me and she sits down. She is wearing a tight black shirt, and very short denim shorts. Her flip-flops are a turquoise color, and her toes are painted a vivid green.

Suze P.O.V.

"I'm Suze," I say, glancing at the girl sitting next to me. She is wearing a loose pale blue t-shirt, knee length shorts, and tennis shoes. She is reading a book that has been read so many times the cover has fallen off, so I couldn't see what it was.

She doesn't even blink, her chocolate eyes staring at me with a strange intensity. "I'm Bella." She didn't even ask about my name.

I lean back and go to sleep, just as she finally takes her disconcerting gaze off me and looks back at her book.

I wake up when the bus lurches to a halt. I look out the window. We are next to a building. An old building. "Wonderful." I groan.

The girl who calls herself Bella raises her eyebrows at me. In explanation, I say, "I hate old buildings. They're more likely to be haunted." I try to make the last part sound like a joke, even though it isn't. And I hate it. Dead people are forever ruining my life.

Again, her piercing gaze seems to stare right through me. She thinks I'm strange. What a wonderful start to this two week long trip. The only advantage to this conversation was that Bella didn't look like the kind of person to talk about me behind my back. And, in all likelihood, she wouldn't be my roommate.

We all crowd into the front hall of the building—there are about one hundred and fifty of us at this stupid, all-girls camp. They start calling out names. I zone out for a while, waiting for my name to be called. "Simon, Susannah, room 237." I nod then follow the slow trail of girls to the pile of luggage, find my three bags, then head towards the doors. Just as I reach them, I hear, "Swan, Bella, room 237." I glance around to see who it is. Sure enough, with my luck, it's the same girl I sat with on the bus.

Bella P.O.V.

I walk slowly up to my room, careful to not trip on any of the steps. The girl I sat with on the bus is the girl I am supposed to room with. I'm still trying to figure out her comment about this place being haunted. Surely she was joking? It seemed like that, but I kind of sensed that she was hiding something. Oh well, I probably won't see her much; she looks like the kind of girl who doesn't have problems making friends.

I walk into my room to find Suze staring determinedly at the chair next to one of the beds, speaking to it. "Just leave. I don't want to be here. I won't be here for long. What's wrong with leaving for two weeks? You can come right back."

Bewildered by her speaking to no one, I say, "Uh, Suze?" She turns, her eyes wild looking for an excuse. "Never mind. Don't ask, don't tell, okay?" I have deduced that her talking to non-existent people is somehow related to the haunted comment. I think my roommate can see ghosts. I will never tell her that, of course, because she obviously wants to hide it, and I'd probably look like a complete and total lunatic for merely suggesting it.

She looks startled, then relieved, as if she is caught talking to someone who isn't there quite often, and this is the first time anyone has been willing to just leave it. "I promise I'm not a schizophrenic, no matter how often I seem like I'm speaking to a chair or a wall or something."

"Okay, that's fine with me. Just try to keep the talking to a minimum during the night. I'm not exactly a heavy sleeper."

"Deal," she says.

Two weeks later…

Suze P.O.V.

Surprisingly, Bella and I have gotten along pretty well. She is pretty quiet, and likes to read a lot. She, like me, doesn't really care for sports. But it isn't because she's concerned with ruining her outfit. It's because she falls down more than anyone else I have ever met. She doesn't ask a lot of questions, despite the fact that they are raging behind her brown eyes. As far as I can tell, her only real flaw is a total lack of fashion sense.

We sit together on the bus back to the airport. She is headed back to Phoenix. I am headed back to New York. So far apart. She has promised to email me. My mother will be so thrilled. I actually made a friend. Due to my… tendency to talk to people invisible to everyone else, I don't have many friends.

Maybe that's the reason we get along so well. She told me that her mom was her only real friend, because she is pretty introverted and doesn't "relate well to people our age," is how she put it.

No Particular Person's P.O.V.

By 2015, Bella and Suze have all but lost contact with each other. Suze emailed Bella when she moved to Carmel, and Bella emailed her when she moved from Phoenix to Forks. That is the extent of their conversation.

Until the Cullens move to a fairly rainy town in Michigan.

The same week Dr. Jesse de Silva and his wife Suze move to that same town.