Hello all! Long time no see, I know. I wish I had a good reason except my writing hit a major wall. Even now I'm not too pleased with this chapter, but it's a bit more of a transition chapter. It's to get more comfortable with the main protagonist here before stuff hits the fan. Anyway, it's a bit shorter but regardless I hope you like it! Thank you so much for the kind reviews. I really do enjoy reading all of them and it does motivate me to continue writing this and become more frequent with stuff. I finished this chapter largely because people kept telling me that this rewrite was good - it made the hardwork worth it. So thank you all so much, and I do truly hope you like this chapter!

CHAPTER THREE
The Burden of Routine

The phone sat in my lap and I sat on the ground, back against the end of the bed. My butt had long since gone numb but all I could do was sit and stare at the piece of metal in my hands. For weeks I had longed to hear his voice saying my name, and yet when my wish was finally granted, I hung up on him. I shut out my own father, even after all that had happened. How could I ever do something like that? I found myself wanting to take it back; to go back in time and force myself to speak to him. It was what I wanted, right?

I hardly noticed when the bedroom door creaked open. Soon another weight was in my lap; Laurie. Her gray eyes were watching me closely, flitting about as she searched my expression for something, anything. "Are you okay?" she voiced to me, tilting her head to the side in a way her blond curls shielded her expression. No, I was far from okay, but I couldn't tell a little girl that.

"I'm great, Laurie. Isn't it a little late for you to be awake?" A quick glance at the phone screen let me know it was nearing ten o'clock, much later than what my bedtime ever was as a kid. A sheepish smile from Laurie let me know everything; she was definitely supposed to be in bed by now. The hallway was darkened, meaning Will and Rebecca had long since gone to bed as well, I would assume. "C'mon, let's get you to bed."

"Will you read me a story?" Laurie probed, getting off my lap but grabbing a hold of my jeans as if to keep me in place long enough to pull a 'yes' from me.

"Didn't your dad already read you a story?" I asked. With a nod of her head, I laughed. Of course. As a kid, I could never get to sleep without a story from my mother. The difference was, we never needed storybooks. Mom would always sit by my bed and tell stories of my ancestors, of their bravery and how they lived their lives in the best possible way. "Okay, I'll tell you one."

A quick walk down the hall led me to Laurie's room. I was expecting pink, but instead the room was decorated in red. I could see baseball posters stuck up around the room; how interesting. Laurie climbed into the bed, allowing me to pull the blankets up around her middle. "I like that one," she told me, pointing to a book that was sitting on the little black nightstand. Clearly Will had already read the book. The two bunnies on the front weren't appealing to me, however. If I was going to tell a story, it was going to be done right.

"How about a new one? One that doesn't need a book," I suggested, sitting down beside the lower child's bed and resting my arms on the side of the mattress. The confused yet interested look from Laurie was exactly the response I wanted. "See, my momma always told me stories about our family. People who lived a long time ago who were heroes. You're part of my family now, too. Do you wanna hear about them?"

An excited grin took over the little girl's face. "Yeah! Daddy never tells me these ones," she giggled, shaking her head against the pillow, teasing her hair in the process.

"Okay, how about my favorite one? Your dad and I grew up in Alabama, right? But your grandma's family actually lived in the North, all the way up in Massachusetts. When we were your age, she would tell us stories about our ancestors. Those people who are our great-great grandparents who lived a long time before we did. I loved those stories, but my favorite was about one of our ancestors in Massachusetts during the 1860s," I began, lifting my head up from where it had rested on my arms. "Have you talked about the civil war in first grade yet?" I asked curiously. When all I received was a blank look, I knew there was some backstory required. "Well, back in the 1860s, the North half of our country and the South half couldn't get along. They fought on a lot of problems and couldn't find a right answer to any of them. It ended with the North and South going to war with each other.

"In comes our ancestor. Gideon Mitchell was barely old enough to join the military when the war began. He enlisted as soon as possible. And Gideon? Your relative, well he's a hero." I could tell I had Laurie's attention now. She watched me wide-eyed, gripping onto the blankets covering her with rapt focus. Telling the story brought a wave of calm over my body. This was always a tradition my mother and I had. I'd told her to stop when I was a teenager, I was too old for bedtime stories, but now I wished we would have kept going. I knew the story by heart now. Gideon worked his way through the ranks slowly until he acted as a hero during a battle in Alabama. He'd gotten Union sympathizers away from the battle site and on a safe path to the North. From then his military career flourished until he eventually settled in the very town he chose to save in Alabama with his family; Roseville. By the time I'd finished the story, Laura's eyes were closed and tears were clinging to my cheeks. I missed my mother. If there was one thing in that instant that I could have, it would be one more story from her. She was always so passionate about family history and was insistent that Will and I know where we came from. I remember she told me Will always shrugged the stories off, claiming they were likely exaggerated or outright made up. I'd always taken to the tales, though. An obsession with Gideon Mitchell formed in me until eventually that was the only story she would tell me. I could remember her eyes would light up as she spoke about him, proud that her relative had made a difference in the world. I don't think she realized how much she'd made a difference, either. Someday, I would tell stories about her just like she told stories about dear Gideon.

In the next two weeks, Dad called seven times. Each time I would sit with my phone in hand and ponder answering it or not. Each time I sat and waited until the phone stopped ringing; unable to speak to him after everything but being too nervous to outright decline the call.

I'd also gotten settled into the new school routine. Rebecca and I shared mornings together before we headed off to school, then when I got home I would babysit Laurie every afternoon. Hannah and her friends were growing on me. At first, I'd tried to be distant but it was impossible to around Hannah. She was such a bright person who truly was kind to everyone she met. I was lucky to have met her my first day. I made the soccer team, too. I was their first real goalkeeper in the four years those seniors had been at the school. The team wasn't fantastic, but it was a team.

I walked into the chemistry room, setting my books down and sitting. We weren't in the lab today, but our desks were the lab tables, meaning I was to be sitting with Emmett and Jasper all year. A sigh slipped from my lips as I saw the empty stool on the other side of Emmett; Jasper wasn't at school again. He hadn't been at school in nearly two weeks. The year had barely begun; how was he missing so much school already? "Where's your brother?" I found myself asking again.

Just like so many other times, Emmett only gave me a small, knowing smile before returning, "He's been sick."

Even though Mr. Smith was explaining a new concept, I let out a small groan to express my frustration. It was clear that he was lying to me, and yet there was no better explanation. I knew no reason why he would disappear except that he hadn't done so until I showed up to school. Had he wanted to avoid me that much? "You're not taking notes?" Emmett whispered to me, nodding toward my blank notebook page. In truth, I hadn't meant to but Jasper had distracted me from the notes.

I shrugged and whispered back, "I've taken this class before. My credits didn't transfer ov-Is that Jasper?" Yes, that was him. The pale boy had just handed a pink attendance slip to the teacher before making his way over to their lab table. Him and Emmett seemed to be having a conversation with their facial expressions, one I wasn't able to make out. "I thought you were sick?" The anger had faded but the embarrassment had not. Each time I looked at Jasper's golden eyes I was reminded of how he seemed to be disgusted by me. My shoulders inched forward and for once I was able to focus on the notes at hand; it was easier than focusing on Jasper's tense body. I didn't want to think about why he was unable to be near me. It was too difficult to find a suitable reason for why even now Jasper stole glances at me, an unreadable expression crossing his face the moment he took notice of me. The way Emmett sat between us, acting as a pseudo-mediator should anything go wrong. Every so often he would whisper something to his brother, but was so unbelievably quiet I couldn't make out what he was saying. My heart rate was only controlled by focusing on the swirling of the letters being written in my notebook. There was absolutely no way I was allowing a boy to occupy my thoughts when there were more important matters to focus on.

Time moved slowly. What felt like a year was only another two weeks. In truth, it was hardly believable that I'd only been in Forks for a month. I thought the adjustment period would be a couple days, but a month in and it still felt like a dream. The only saving grace was the group of friends I'd met the first day of school. As much as I hated to admit it, I'd come to rely on them. I was still talking to Emily every day though, letting her know about my life. She seemed relieved that I'd found a group to talk to over here, and I was relieved to hear that my old group hadn't found a replacement for me.

"Hey, I'm pulling into the parking lot now, but I'll talk to you later, okay?" I spoke into the phone with my best friend, laughing at her groan of displeasure.

"Okay, how about tonight then? I have so much to catch you up on!" Emily exclaimed.

Right as I was about to agree, my eyes took note of the jersey I was wearing. The long sleeved red jersey reminded me that I would be occupied by my first soccer match of the year that night. "Sorry, I can't. I have a game tonight," I answered regretfully. I loved my new team, truly, but I'd give anything to spend more time talking with people from my old life. "So I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love ya, Em!"

"Love ya, Val. Good luck tonight, and don't break any bones!" Em laughed before hanging up the phone, just as I was stepping out of my car. The chilled air hit me quickly, and I found myself thankful that the goalkeeper's jersey was long-sleeved as opposed to everyone else's forest green short-sleeved jerseys which hardly offered any protection from the autumn wind.

Chemistry came quickly. I was growing comfortable with Emmett despite our poor first encounter. When I walked into the room, he was already sitting at our table. "Look at you! What's the big occasion?"

"What do you think?" I shot back, flashing him a quick smile before pulling out my notebook and gathering my supplies. "First game of the season."

"Isn't everyone else wearing green? I think you missed the memo, Dryden."

I was growing used to our casual banter by now. I rolled my eyes before quickly firing back, "Goalkeepers stand out," I said just as the bell rang. The substitute teacher let the class know that it would be a workday on our lab writeups which were due by the end of the week. "You should come to the game tonight."

"You know, I don't go to school events much," Emmett spoke up, pulling out his own notebook as if to begin working on his writeup, but never picked up his pencil.

"Fair enough. I respect it," I responded before picking up my pen and beginning to write. When I glanced up, I noticed that the boy sitting on the other side of Emmett was already halfway through his writeup; he'd clearly been working as we spoke. In two weeks, we had hardly spoken. It was hardly even civil but rather an unspoken agreement; he ignores me and I ignore him, and everyone is happy.

"Where'd you learn to play?" The question surprised me. It had come from Emmett, but I couldn't take my eyes off of his brother who had lifted his head to look at me, as if suddenly interested in our conversation. "I've heard you're amazing."

"I wouldn't go that far. But if you must know, I learned from my dad." The word alone caused pain to pound in my chest, threatening to limit my breathing. Jasper recoiled as if physically affected by what I was saying and feeling. I must have made a face.

"Did he play goalie too?" Emmett tried to continue the conversation. My hand clenched around the pen and my eyebrows tilted inward. I hadn't expected he would be so interested.

"I need to work on my lab report," I murmured, tilting my head downward and staring at the blank notebook page as if it were the source of the ache in my chest.

"Let's get this cleaned up so we can do a quick reflection time, okay?" Will told his daughter after dinner. Laurie stood up with a small groan, picking up a plate and walking it over to the counter beside the sink.

"I'll clean the dishes if you clear the table, okay?" I called out to her, now dressed in pajamas. I'd showered after coming home from the game and my damp hair was leaving a small wet spot on the shoulders of my shirt. The dinner dishes was always meant to be Laurie's chore, but I couldn't help but to want to help. When my mind was full of thoughts I didn't want to linger on, I had to stay busy.

Laurie seemed excited enough. The table was nearly completely cleared in seconds as she ran about the kitchen, as if to prove her generosity. "What do you say, Laura?" Will probed, searching for a proof of manners in his little one.

"Thanks, Auntie Val!" She cried before skipping to the living room and jumping onto the couch, clearly ready for reflection period. I took my time scrubbing at the dishes, almost trying to avoid the time. At first I'd thought telling each other about our day was cute, but it became a way for Will and Rebecca to find out my mental state, as if they were constantly terrified of me losing it. I suppose it wasn't totally off the table, but it still was aggravating to be treated so delicately.

It couldn't be avoided forever, though, and soon I found myself sitting in the living room in my own chair while the other three sat on the couch. The other three had typical stories; Rebecca spoke about how proud she was of her students, Will had a stressful day in the ED, and Laurie was amazed by nearly everything she saw. Then it was my turn. When I didn't speak for awhile, Rebecca seemed to take the hint and stood up, offering her hand to Laura. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed."

"But Aunt Val didn't talk!" Laurie protested, always interested in what I had to say. "And I want her bedtime story!"

"I'll be up in a minute, okay? I wouldn't ever forget about our bedtime stories," I told her, giving her a small, forced smile before she disappeared up the stairs with her mother in tow. Even with her gone, I couldn't find the right words. I thought the ache in my chest from chemistry class would go away but it only seemed to spread through the day. My body felt either numb or hurting, much like when my mother died initially, but I had a feeling this wasn't over her.

"What's wrong, Valerie? You can talk to me," Will spoke then, face full of concern for me. Maybe he thought I was actually losing it now. Maybe I was.

"Dad keeps calling me." There it was, right out in the open. I wanted to reach out and pull my words back to me, as if the information was somehow private and close to me. I couldn't read Will's face. I could see shock, but there was another emotion that I couldn't quite decipher.

"Have you answered?" He finally spoke, but it wasn't what I wanted.

"No," I admitted, looking down at my hands folded in my lap. "I can't bring myself to. I mean, who does that? I have a perfectly good parent, and I'm cutting him off." I glanced back up at Will before adding, softly, "I don't know how you did it."

Silence. The sheer emptyness of the air between us made me squirm in my seat a little, as if a new position could make me more comfortable. "How much did Mom and Dad tell you about me?" Will finally asked, slowly, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to ask the question. My shrug was all he needed to see, apparently, because he continued, "I didn't cut them off, Valerie. I would've given anything to see Mom again before she-well, you know."

"You could've," I whispered. Shock truly filled his face then, and I was beginning to feel it too. The words weren't planned; I didn't truly know what I was saying, but the pain in me was beginning to subside, as if this conversation was making me forget about it. "I don't know why I haven't seen you in ten years, but you could've seen her."

"Valerie, you do-"

"No, I understand enough. I know Mom would nearly start crying anytime little me would ask about you. I know Dad would get this look on his face, like he couldn't decide between being angry or hurt. I know they missed you and I know they would've wanted to meet their granddaughter, especially one that acts so much like Mom." The tears were flowing freely now, but I couldn't find it in me to care. Will looked hurt, but I couldn't care about that either. "I can't imagine going ten years without seeing them. Without hearing Dad's laugh, without Mom's perfect advice for every problem I ever had. I can't imagine going ten years without Mom's special grilled cheeses just because of some stupid reason. Hell, it kills me to not be around them for a few months. I don't know how you went ten years, and I don't think I'll ever know."

"Valerie, you're taking this out of cont-" Will began, standing up in suit with me, taking a step as if to get near me.

"Goodnight," I spoke before hurrying up the stairs before he could see the tears now clinging to my cheeks. It had been quite awhile before I'd spoken of my mother, and it just made all of the feelings come rushing back. I pulled out my phone and tapped the number of the one person I truly needed in that moment. I listened to it ring, knowing that she should be at home by this time. She was ignoring me, it felt like. Voicemail. A groan slipped from my lips as the call to Emily didn't go through, having expected my closest friend to be there for me.

"Aunt Val, are you okay?" How did Laurie always seem to find me when I was at my worst? She was standing in the doorway to my bedroom, clutching a teddy bear and looking wary of the situation. I suppose it was likely a strange sight to see my standing in the middle of my bedroom crying seemingly without reason.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks, willing myself to hold the rest back behind the dam. I couldn't afford anymore outbreaks like that. It was all just so confusing and so difficult. I wanted Mom and Dad back, but I couldn't talk to my Dad, not after all that has happened. I didn't understand why Will has been gone for ten years and still accept me into his home. It felt like I was living with strangers as opposed to my only brother's family. There was a lot more to his relationship with my parents than I thought, and I couldn't come close to trying to understand it. Not only that, but I was on a losing soccer team. I was making friends when I specifically said I didn't want to, and the one person who seemed to detest me was the one I found most interesting. It was all too confusing, and I found myself wondering how life could possibly get anymore convoluted. All I knew was I had a bedtime story to tell. "Yes, baby, I'm okay. Don't ever worry about me, okay? C'mon, let's go. Do you want to hear about Gideon or Edwin tonight?"