Summery: Just how do you deal with a hormonal teenage shape shifter? That is what Renesesemee and Jacob want to know, and what happens when the Volturi find out about her and her power?

An: This idea has been bouncing around my brain for a while, the story of a girl who is a mix of a shape-shifting werewolf and a half vampire. I hope you all enjoy. Oh and by the way, Nessie can now project thoughts from a distance in this story.

Thoughts/writing, Renesesemee's projections "Speaking"

Chapter 1 The Black Family

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There it was, sitting in front of me, my blank English paper on The Catcher in the Rye. It was shinny and white in the lamp light, it looked almost like grandpa Edwards skin but the paper wasn't as pretty. I shook my head, focus, I had to focus. I turned back to my desk and the paper. My eyes narrowed at the pen sitting next to my homework trying to will it to write the paper for me, but it didn't work it just sat there, motionless. It was times like this I wished I could move thingswith my mind. That would be really cool…..

No! Paper. Focus. Now. I picked up the pen, held it over the paper, and began to write.

The catcher in the rye is a book about a winy boy named holden-

I stood up from my desk and walked out of my room; I walked down the hallway and opened the door to the kitchen.

I blinked a few times to get my bearings before growling angrily, if my mother wanted me to come to the kitchen she could call me just like every other mother on the planet. I started to write again.

I stood up from my desk and walked out of my room- I shook my head and willed the rest of the mental attack away. I refused to respond to a mental call! If she wanted me, she could call me by my name.

"Hanna! Get your butt into the kitchen!" I sighed and put my pen down, so she made dad call me, she could have tried to talk to me like a normal parent but no, she made dad call me instead. I stood up and left the bedroom, taking the familiar route from my room to our kitchen.

My parents sat at the dining room table, my father was standing in the middle of the room, and he was handsome if you like the tall, dark type. I looked like him, my skin was a very light brown and my hair was black, like his but mine was curly and my eyes were the same brown as my mothers. My mother was sitting at the dining room table, looking pretty and young as always, her curly bronze hair glowed in the afternoon light that leaked in through the window close by, her ghostly pale skin glowed too, not the sparkle my grandparents had, but an ethereal glow that added to her beauty. Her deep brown eyes were narrowed at a piece of paper in her hand and a frown crossed her pretty lips.

Oh no, I knew what that was it was my-

My mother opened the mailbox, a letter addressed to her from the school was sitting there, she opened it and saw-

"I'm sorry!" I blurted out causing mom and dad to look at me. Dad spoke first, as usual.

"Han, why didn't you tell us your grades were this bad?" I shrugged and reached up to tug at my curls, a nervous habit I have yet to get rid of.

"I thought they were fine." I mumbled. It was true too I thought I was passing all of my classes.

"These grades are not fine." my mother said in her whispery voice, she showed me the image of the paper in front of her as if to prove her point "You have all D's."

"Not in Mr. Jackson's class! I have a C there!" I liked Mr. Jackson, he was nice to me, and he even lets me skip assignments sometimes. I actually try to do well in there when I buckle down and do my homework, hence my frustrating English paper that probably wasn't going to get done now.

"That's one class out of six, you are still doing poorly in your other subjects." my dad said and rubbed his temples "I don't understand Hanna its not like the work is that hard." I glared at him, well done dad, you've made your only daughter feel stupid again.

"Well it's not like I have fifty years of experience to go on!" I snapped. My mother tried to soothe me.

"You don't have to have fifty years of experience to be able to do this work, your smart Hanna-"

"Forget this." I hissed. I turned and ran back to my room; I did not want to hear the 'You should be smart enough to do better' speech again. I jumped onto my unmade bed and threw open the window, the warm afternoon wind brushed against my skin, I gave a small sigh of relief. I hated going out when it was cold, but that was Michigan for you, cold, dank, and dark most of the year. It was a perfect haunting ground for vampires.

"Hanna!" I glanced over my shoulder, dad had chased after me, "Hanna Isabella Black don't you jump out of that window." I ignored him and leaped out; he jumped for me his hand just missing my ankle. I smirked and began to change, feathers sprouted from my skin, my bones shrunk and hollowed, my arms turned into wings, my lips turned into a razor sharp beak, my eyes sharpened, my legs shrunk and my toes turned into talons. I was a red tail hawk. With a powerful beat of my wings and a shifting of my tail, I pulled up out of my dive and soared upwards, over the pine trees and towards the mountain like hill in the distance. A place far away from our little house nestled next to Lake Michigan and far away from my family.

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(Nessie POV)

I sighed and shook my head; I would never understand that girl. Jacob stormed back into the kitchen his eyes blazing and muscles trembling. He was about to transform, I quickly sent him soothing thoughts, old hunts, jokes, that new position we tried last night-

He chuckled and relaxed for a moment before his eyes hardened.

"She's flown off again." he growled. I sighed again, this was a common occurrence in our home, we would try to talk to Hanna and she would just fly off, run away, or more recently swim away.

I sent him an image of my father, "If anyone can find her he can." Jacob tensed and ran a hand through his hair, "I hate having to call him when Hanna runs off," he mumbled and looked at the door, "Give me a chance to find her before you call Edward." It had taken me forever to get him out of the habit of calling my father a leach.

I sent him an image of him in his wolf form, running through the trees, "Go." he nodded and left the kitchen, I waited until I heard the front door close before I moved; I went into Hanna's room. Posters of bands covered almost every inch of her room, the walls in-between the posters was a gloomy looking gray color. I had tried to get her to change it to something brighter without success. I carefully stepped over the piles of books, socks, and food wrappers that littered the floor, Hanna never cleaned her room unless you forced her to. I went over to her bed and looked out of the window, I could see an outline of a hawk in the distance, I was sure it was her.

I tried to send an image to the hawk but my ability didn't reach out that far, my ability to put images into the minds of others got weaker the farther away the person was. It could be very frustrating at times. I turned away from the window and went over to the desk next to the bed.

The lamp on the small wooden desk was on; I reached over to turn it off when a piece of paper caught my eye. I looked down at it.

The catcher in the rye is a book about a winy boy named holden- I winced, there were so many problems with just that sentence. She didn't capitalize Holden's name or the books title and her word choice left much to be desired. I resisted the urge to fix her mistakes and shut off the lamp light. I stood there in the dark for a minute before reaching into my pocket.

I pulled out my cell phone, flipped it open, and hit the number 1. I held it to my ear the instant I did my father picked up.

"What's wrong Nessie?"

"It's Hanna. She's gone." that was all I needed to say.

"I will find her, don't worry." I smiled.

"Thank you daddy."

"Its no problem, do you have any idea where she went?"

"I saw her flying north from the house."

"I will find her." he repeated and the line went dead. I sighed in relief, I had faith that Jacob would find Hanna eventually, but even with his senses that could take days and Hanna never listened to him when she was in one of her moods, as soon as he was in sight she would just run off again. My father had a better chance of bringing her home. He could tell her apart from other animals because of her thoughts, and she actually talked to him when he caught her. He would bring her home safely.

I looked back out the open window; I never shut it when she runs off, just in case she decides to come home on her own. I went over, sat down on her messy bed, and smiled sadly at the setting sun, just another day in the Black family.