Author's Note: Hi, hey, hello! I cannot apologize enough for the long-awaited update. I swear, I have not forgotten about this story; it's just that in between my busy life, it was hard to find the motivation or the inspiration to write this chapter. But thank you to everyone who has stuck with me so far! I hope this story does not disappoint you as it (slowly) progresses. Otherwise, I just ask that you bear with me as I try to keep the story interesting and alive. My goal is to avoid copying "Twilight" verbatim (because that's really boring), so... we'll see.

OH! And I renamed this story because while I loved the concept definition of the word trouvaille, it always felt ridiculous for a story name. So I changed it. Sorry (not sorry).

With that being said, I hope you enjoy this new chapter. (It's pretty boring, though.)

If you're looking for a disclaimer, it's on my profile page.

WARNING(S): Strong language (I am a potty mouth).

CHAPTER THREE
Awkward Tension

I had gone to bed unable to achieve more than a strange in-between stage of being awake and asleep. I tossed and turned all night, trying desperately to get comfortable in my own bed; meanwhile, Gillian snored soundly beside me on the other side of my full-sized mattress. I was more than a little irritated when the alarm on my cell phone blared on my nightstand at 6am.

To say that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed would be an understatement.

Forcing myself to sit up in bed, I reached over and grabbed my phone from my nightstand. All it took was a quick swipe of my thumb across the screen and silence enveloped my room once more. The peace, however, was short lived as my exhaustion started to weigh down on my shoulders (that, and a hearty snore from Gillian reminded me that I couldn't keep hitting snooze for as long as I wanted). I sighed, setting my phone back on the nightstand before glancing over at the girl hogging up most of my bed.

I swear, Gillian could sleep through a war if you let her.

Wrapping a corner of my pillow around my hand, I raised it up and brought it down across her exposed front with a solid whack! She groaned, rolling over onto her back.

"Fuck off…," she mumbled.

"C'mon," I said, already rising up from my bed and stretching my arms above my head. I could feel, as well as hear, some of my stiff joints popping throughout my body. "It's time to wake up, Jill. I'm taking the first shower," I said around a yawn.

Gathering up some towels, I left her alone in my room.

On any normal day, I might have given Gillian first access to the shower; she had a thirty-minute drive back to La Push, whereas it would only take me about fifteen minutes or less to get to Forks High School across town. But today, I was feeling a little selfish.

I blamed it on the lack of sleep.

I made my shower quick, so as not to use up all the hot water. When I got out, I felt a little less tense but significantly more tired. I stared at my reflection as I brushed my teeth, debating how much makeup I wanted to use to hide the dark circles under my eyes and the sallow-y look of my skin today.

Gillian was already waiting outside the bathroom, towel in hand, when I stepped out.

"Good morning, sunshine," she chirped.

I grunted in response, stepping around her to make my way down the hall.

"Tough crowd…," Gillian mumbled before slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

Once I was back in my bedroom, I shut the door behind me and started rummaging through my closet for something to wear. The goal today was for the sake of comfort rather than a style. Dark jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a black sweatshirt completed my look for the day. Using my towel to dry off my hair, I brushed it out to release the tangles and threw it up into a messy bun at the top of my head. In the end, I decided that no makeup was worse than having a full face caked with it; a little concealer in my problematic spots, a little powder and gel to fill in and tame my eyebrows, and a couple swipes of mascara on curled lashes made me feel like I had attempted to do more than I actually did.

Gillian came back into the room as I was finishing up with my mascara.

"I just met your sister," she announced, rummaging through her duffle bag on the floor. "She's kind of awkward."

I rolled my eyes, closing the tube of mascara before tossing it back into my makeup bag. "Yeah, that's Bella."

"She seems nice enough. I don't know why you have such a problem with her," Gillian said conversationally, her tone light and airy despite knowing that this was not a conversation I wanted to have this early in the morning.

"Stop." I warned, glaring over at her.

She shrugged, "I'm just saying."

"Well, you shouldn't."

"Ouch. What crawled up your butt and died?" Gillian scoffed, looking up at me and rolling her eyes.

I huffed, standing up from my vanity. "I'm going downstairs."

To my surprise, I could smell bacon when I stepped into the hallway.

I spent most of my childhood eating cereal, soup, or ravioli out of a can on rotation before I told my dad I wanted to learn how to cook myself when I was about ten. I thought he would just sign me up for a cooking class in Port Angeles or something. Instead, he called every mother in the neighborhood that he personally knew and asked them to take me in after school and teach me how to cook.

Six years later, and I was a self-proclaimed culinary artist. My dad could cook basic meals, but I usually took care of most of the cooking in the house.

A person could only eat the same thing three times a day for so long before you started to lose your mind and your taste buds went haywire.

Making my way downstairs, I walked into the kitchen to see the table set for four—plates, silverware, and cups!—with steaming plates of scrambled eggs, French toast, crispy bacon, and a carton of pulp-free orange juice.

The Chief sat in his usual spot at the head of the table, flipping through the morning newspaper as he took a sip of his coffee—or, as I liked to call it, his liquid tar.

"Morning, kiddo," he said, smiling up at me from the newspaper. "You hungry?"

"You cooked."

He smiled up at me, setting his newspaper down on the table. "Thought you could use the break," he said.

"Yeah, but, you never cook. I have to be on my deathbed just for you to make Gram's chicken noodle soup."

Dad shrugged, a faint blush rising on his cheeks as his mustache seemed to bristle. "I can take care of my kids every now and then," he grumbled.

Oh.

He was doing this for Bella. To make her feel more welcomed.

Because I was shit at doing that.

I smiled, though even I could tell that it was tight on my face. "Well… thanks, Dad. It looks great," I said as I moved towards the table.

"Looks good, but it tastes mediocre. You've spoiled me, Gracie."

I scoffed, making up my plate. "I'm not Gordon Ramsey, but I do alright. Besides, I still can't make Gram's chicken noodle soup like you do, Pop."

Dad chuckled, taking another sip of his tar.

I sighed and poured my orange juice, opting not to comment (yet) on his poor taste in coffee.

Gillian burst into the kitchen first, her clothes as loud as her personality. "Gooood morning!" she chirped, dropping dramatically into the seat beside me. "Did you make all this, Charlie? Looks great."

"Eat up, Jill," Dad said simply as he gestured to the plates of food. "I made plenty."

"Don't mind if I do," she said, piling up her plate with mountains of food.

"Jesus," I hissed. "There's still another person here that has to eat too! Quit being such a pig!"

Gillian rolled her eyes. "There's more than enough left for her. Besides, have you seen her? She's as thin as a twig. She looks like she might break in two if the wind blows the wrong way."

"Um…?"

We all freeze, looking up towards the doorway. Bella stands awkwardly in the doorframe, fidgeting with her hands at the sudden attention while the three of us stared at her like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"G-Good morning?" she greeted, almost hesitantly.

I was the first to break the moment, reaching out to smack Gillian on the back of her head.

"What the hell?" she shouted, whipping around to glare at me.

"You're so rude," I huffed.

"Oh, I'm the one that's rude?" she scoffed.

"Yes," I said simply as I started to dig into my breakfast. Bella took the seat across from mine, on the other side of our father. I paused in my eating endeavor, looking up at her and catching her eye in an awkward sort of stare down. "Hi."

"Uh, h-hey."

I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my seat. "You don't have to look so uncomfortable."

"Grace…" Dad said warningly.

"What? You want me to work at this, right? Well, I'm trying."

"It's fine," Bella stuttered, staring intently down at her plate. "She's right. We need to start somewhere."

And start somewhere we did.

We passed around plates of food around until her dish was filled as the rest of ours.

Dad cleared his throat, passing me a carton of orange juice. "Grace likes juice in the mornings. Do you want some coffee, Bella?"

"Sur—"

"Dad made it," I warned, sliding the orange juice towards her. Gillian snorted into her own glass of juice.

Bella wrinkled her nose, picking the carton up from the table and pouring some juice into her glass. "I'm good with juice."

"What's wrong with my coffee?"

And here I thought I could actually get through this breakfast without reminding my dad why I rarely let him into the kitchen to begin with.

"It's literal sludge, Dad. If there's ever a tar shortage, all you have to do is whip up a couple thousand pots of this stuff and you could pave brand new roads across the state of Washington," I said, biting into a piece of bacon. "Do you know how long it takes me to clean the coffee machine after you use it?"

"Oh, come on. You're exaggerating."

"She's not too far off," Bella said, one corner of her mouth rising in a shy smirk.

"Not you too!" Dad groaned.

I gave him a smug smile as I waved my half-eaten strip of bacon in his face. "Hah!"

Thanks for reviewing!

BigBangVIP: Thank you for your review and patience! Sorry for the long wait. Life got really hectic for a minute. I'm hoping I can find the time to make updates more frequent, but I'm pretty go-go-go right now! And yes! I learn all my Twilight facts from the lexicon website. It's helpful!

Honey Evans: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR KIND WORDS OMG! And thank you for your patience! I promise I haven't forgotten this story; I have ideas constantly brewing in the back of my mind, it's just a matter of getting them out into words that's critical. PLEASE CONTINUE BEING PATIENT WITH ME!

RoniMikaelson: I can't wait to hear what you think as this story progresses! Thank you for reviewing!