I warily glanced in the mirror. I stood there fiercly glaring at my reflection. And inwardly despising the resemblance to my mother. Carefully, I stepped away from the mirror. The last thing I needed was for somebody to come up after me and interrupt my-weekly-ritual. A ritual in which I could feel sorry for myself. Usually, it begins with the fact I'm in love with my best friend. My best friend who was - and still is - in love with my mother. Ever since I'd heard the story I'd been convinced he only expressed interest in me because of my inexplicable resemblance to her. Poor me.

My father, the mind reading obstacle he was, is now convienantly disabled from hearing my thoughts. My mom thought I should have my privacy now that I was phsycially, and mentally a teenage girl. Technically, I was eight years old. But I appeared as an eighteen year old. Maybe a bit younger, seventeen at the least. I was grateful for this, though I still had a little spite towards her. Jacob loved her without having a choice. He only cares for me at all because he has, too. My life was so pathetic.

"Hey." A soft voice came from the door, I turned to see my father.

I forced a smile. "Hi."

He stepped into the bathroom with a pained expression, "You don't honestly do this every week, do you?"

I gasped in horror, "You read my mind!"

He chuckled, "Your mother was worried about you."

I gritted my teeth and stormed out the door. Now everyone would know how truly pathetic I was.

"You're not pathetic." The haunting voice followed me. "I won't tell them." He paused. "But you should talk to your mother."

I turned to face him, "And what good will that do? She'll be sympathetic of course. But there's nothing she can do to change how I feel."

He sighed, and ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Renesmee, I can't tell you how the Mutt feels. All I know his thoughts are centered around you. All the time."

"I'm going to sleep," I said hastily before stomping all the way to my room, feeling no better than I had before.

I slammed the door frustratedly. Only to find the last person I wanted to see waiting in my room.

"Hey Nessie." Jacob smiled.

I sighed, "Now's not the best time, Jake." I glanced at the open window in which he must have entered. I really needed to learn to lock it more often.

"I know." He said, his face suddenly glum. "But we have to talk about this, anyway. Might as well get it over with, right?"

I stepped backwards into my dresser and fell to the floor. I blushed, as he laughed. "It's not funny." I grumbled.

Jake stopped laughing. "Okay, so, are you going to tell me what's wrong, or is this going to be a guessing game sort of thing?"

I grimaced. "Nothing's wrong."

"I see." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Is it boy problems?"

"You could say that, I suppose." I smiled, inwardly amused. You couldn't exactly call Jake a boy...

He frowned, "Is it that bloodsucker, Nahuel? Is he hitting on you again?"

I laughed, wholeheartedly. How well I remembered that dillema. "No." I shook my head, still laughing.

"You know, I hate guessing games." He stated, while he shot me a hopefull smile.

I sighed, remembering the situation. He made it seem like he liked me sometimes. But it was really the alikeness of my mom that drew him in.

"In other words; Why don't you just tell me, Ness?"

I shook my head, "It's too...embarassing and pathetic." I paused. "Just like me."

His eyes looked dangerously angry. "You are not pathetic!" He then smiled teasingly, "But you can't help you embarass yourself so much."

I smiled, too. It was almost too easy to be around him. The situation at hand raced back into my mind, and the smile disappeared.

"Jake...you" I stuttered, while I blushed furiously. This was not going to be easy. "You only hang around me because you imprinted on me."

He laughed. "Is that what you think? Ness, you know I love you."

"Only because I'm like my mom," I muttered, spitefully.

Jacob's face was troubled. "Nessie...Sure I loved your mom. But- she's like...like a sister now."

"And what I am I, Jake?" I asked, annoyed. I probably already knew the answer.

"Not like a sister," he mumbled, and glanced up only once to meet my expression.

I half-heartedly smiled. How gullible did he think I was? If he really felt this way it was going to take time for him to prove it to me. I wasn't some teenage girl who let her horomones get the best of her.

Then I felt his warm lips upon my cold ones.

Okay, maybe I was some teenage girl who let her horomones get the best of her. Sue me.