Part I : Cullen
Chapter One
April, 1955
My life changed completely—for better and for worse—the very day I met the Cullens.
It was during the height of spring, which, in Forks, was just a muted version of winter. The wind still blew, but the bite was less fierce. The forests that encroached Forks were buzzing with life, glowing with a fervent green. Grandmama had decided to come visit us for the first time since my birth, which led Mama to stress over the tiniest of details: the throw pillows had to be fluffed just right, the carpet vacuumed until it was spotless, and new curtains bought since the old ones were ragged.
Papa and Grandmama never really saw things eye-to-eye. Even my seven-year-old self could dissect the meaning behind his grumbling and her glares. Mama tried her best to ease the tensions, but nothing really worked. Her green eyes were fraught with stress, the turmoil in the household taking its toll on her. Papa noticed, of course, and so did Grandmama. And since they both loved my mother in their own strange ways, they promised to get along.
For now, at least.
"Can I go outside and play?" I asked eagerly, jumping with excitement at the thought of exploring the close-ranged forest. It was so boring inside. Papa had gone out to take extra shifts at the police station, and all Mama and Grandmama seemed to do was sit by the windows with cups of tea and talk about all the years that had passed. I didn't understand half of it.
"May I," Grandmama corrected from the corner of the living room, her grimace softening as she took in my small form. Her grey eyes warmed, and she brushed back a lock of her snow white hair.
Grandmama loved her daughter—my mother—but hated her choice to marry my father. She disapproved of my father's occupation in the Forks police force, and only tolerated him because my mother loved him with all her heart. When I was born out of wedlock, Mama told me she was worried that Grandmama would cut ties and ignore her for the rest of her life, but that wasn't the case. Grandmama simply adored me, and I loved receiving the warmth.
"May I go outside and play?" I repeated, a little put off at the grammar lesson. My brows furrowed in annoyance.
"I don't see why not," Mama murmured, picking up a light jacket from the sofa and handing it to me to wear. "Just don't wander off too far, mon chéri."
"Okay, Mama!" I said eagerly, grabbing the light coat and running outside. My galoshes created sucking noises as I stepped into the moist mud that lingered just beyond our doorstep. It had just rained the night before. Grandmama had complained all day about it, and Papa had grown so frustrated with the whining that he left for yet another late shift at the police station.
I wondered briefly if Grandmama had wanted him gone, but shook the thought off. I didn't understand any of the motives behind Grandmama's grumpy actions when she visited us, but I did know that when she left, Mama and Papa made the house glow with their love.
In my seven-year-old mind, I likened their marriage to a Disney fairy tale. Beauty and the Beast was my favorite, and since Mama was French, I thought it fit perfectly.
Along my trek through the woods, I was picking up small pebbles and examining them with half-hearted interest before throwing them aside. At First Beach, Mama and Papa would often look for shells and glistening rocks with me, but collecting little treasures in the forest was somehow different without them.
From behind me, I heard twigs cracking loudly. I turned around quickly, backing up against one of the nearby trees as two, five—no—seven people emerged into the small clearing. My first thought was that they were all beautiful. Something about the way the dim, clouded light struck them made their alabaster skin shimmer.
"Look," one of them whispered, the shortest of the group. She wore a hairstyle that reminded me of the sun's rays, all spiky and shooting out in every direction. Her golden eyes shone as they stared me down. "There she is."
Another one of them slowly walked closer to me, crouching down until she was just at eye-level. "Hello, little one," she greeted me, her topaz eyes burning with warmth. Her voice rang like chimes in the wind, and her caramel hair was spun like cotton candy.
"Hello," I murmured back shyly, and the woman before me gave me a small, cautious smile. "Who are you?"
"I'm Esme," she said, reaching out a pale hand for me to take. A small worm of hesitation wriggled its way into my head, but I quickly pushed it aside. Something about the compassion that Esme exuded drew me into her. I put my small hand in hers and shivered slightly as her cold hand gripped mine. I was flooded by the comfort of her presence, although I couldn't quite wrap my mind around why I felt that way.
Esme got up slowly, pulling my hand up with her. My head reached just past her waist. Esme gestured to the others who had accompanied her. "This is my family—the Cullens."
I cocked my head to the side, taking in their gleaming, golden eyes and concluding that they must be related because they all shared the exact same eye color. "You have a very big family," I whispered conspiratorially to Esme, who only chuckled.
"I'm Alice," the woman with the jagged hair said happily, bounding forward with endless energy. She reminded me of a pixie. "We're going to be great friends, Therese!"
I didn't ask how she knew my name; the thought didn't even cross my mind. My mouth only shifted into a small scowl. "Only my Grandmama calls me that," I said with distaste. "I like Tess better. That's what Papa calls me."
Alice nodded enthusiastically. "I like Tess more, too."
Another woman stepped forward curiously. She was the most beautiful of all; her hair glimmered, reminding me unconditionally of finely spun gold. She was tall, contours and shadows perfectly engraved into her skin. She looked unreal, like a marble statue.
"You're very pretty," I said shyly, mouth slightly agape and not knowing what else to say.
She smiled, and her white teeth flashed. "Thank you. I'm Rosalie."
"Mama's name is Rosette!" I exclaimed happily, finding the coincidence funny. They both had blonde hair too, although the eye color was different.
As I finished my short quip, Rosalie's face fell a little, but perked up instantly as I continued to smile brightly.
"This," Rosalie began, pointing at a large, hulking man behind her, "is my husband, Emmett."
Emmett grinned at me. His black hair was short and very curly; I thought they resembled bristles on a brush. "Hello, squirt."
I wrinkled my nose, unfamiliar with the word. I thought it sounded kind of strange, too. Like something stuck in the mud. "What's a squirt?"
The others laughed, and Rosalie lightly smacked Emmett on the shoulder. "That's Edward," Rosalie continued, pointing at a bronze-haired man with an amused expression on his face. He cocked his head thoughtfully in my direction, and I grinned back.
"This is Jasper!" Alice interrupted suddenly, drawing forward a tall man with faint scars lining his face. Rosalie huffed at Alice from behind her. "He's very excited to see you, even if he doesn't really show it." Jasper gave me a small smile, his eyes teeming with curiosity. His hair was tousled and wavy, a little longer than Alice's, and the thought amused me.
"I like your hair," I giggled, finding my childish inside joke hilarious. He gave me hesitant smile.
Rosalie smiled warmly at me before pointing to the last unnamed member of the odd family. "This is Carlisle."
"My husband," Esme explained softly, her hand still clutching mine lightly.
"A pleasure," Carlisle said with a smile, his pale blond hair reminding me of my own.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, too," I said politely, suddenly remembering my manners. Grandmama would have been appalled had she been here.
A soft "Aww" escaped Alice's mouth. She looked between me and her family. "Isn't she just the cutest?"
Carlisle gave her a thin smile but nodded all the same. Alice squealed with giddiness, and I bit my lip nervously, a little put-off by Alice's energy.
"Wait," I said, a thought surfacing in my head. "What are you all doing here?"
"We were hiking," Esme explained softly, her head angled down toward me. "We were just headed home until we found you."
"Are you my neighbors?" I asked with excitement. Our house was enclosed, slightly cut off from the other residents of Forks. Mama had wanted it that way; when she emigrated from France, she valued her privacy above all else and felt as though the house was perfect. But, while she was fine with seclusion, I ached for company.
"Kind of," Alice said. "We're near you, but a little ways off. Would you like to come over for a bit? We'll bring you right back home!"
My brows furrowed for a moment. Nothing about these people screamed danger; in fact, they seemed the opposite of danger: sweet and kind and caring. "Okay," I acquiesced.
Alice let out a little cheer. The others appeared slightly wary.
"But I have to be home in time for supper," I said seriously. "Otherwise Grandmama will be annoyed, and that's never fun."
Alice nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, of course."
"How do we get to your house?" I asked.
Rosalie stepped forward and flashed me a blinding smile. "How does a piggyback ride sound?"
She stooped down to my level and scooped me into her arms. I clambered onto her back as carefully as possible, trying not to muss her golden curls.
And we were off.
A/N: hey! so this is an idea i've been thinking about/working on for a really long time. the story's pretty canon. it's essentially a Demetri/OC story, but it's got a long way to go before we even reach Demetri, so bear with me.
thanks for reading! and please review so i know if i should continue! :)