AN: Thank you to danielle72679 and kittycat1980 for reviewing.

Charlie was completely surprised when he returned home from work the other day to find batches of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies waiting for him. He was probably as surprised as I was when I found all of the ingredients that I needed in his kitchen cupboards. It goes without saying that Charlie doesn't cook much. When I have seen him eating, it was either something he could quickly throw together, like a sandwich, or some form of take out that he had ordered in.

The cookies weren't really waiting for him. I baked them because I wanted them. That's right; I actually wanted to eat them. I guess they're like my comfort food, reminding me of a better time in my life. I used Grandma's recipe, they are the best after all.

Over the weekend, Charlie took me shopping. He got me to write a list of all the food I might want to try now that I was trying to eat again. There wasn't much on the list, but it was a start. It took a while to walk around the store to get it all as I still didn't have a whole lot of energy. Charlie was patient with me though, but I suppose he didn't have a lot of choice at the time. It was nice to do something together, even if it was something as trivial as grocery shopping.

Now that I was making an effort, however small, with food, Charlie thought I might also want to start talking to him. It made me wonder when he'll learn that I have nothing that I feel I need to say to him, or to anyone. It didn't stop him from trying to make conversation with me. I guessed that he had been on the phone with Dr Cullen, asking for some advice. Why else would he try?

So, now Charlie talks to me in the kitchen while I cook us something to eat. The conversation can be quite stilted at times, but I'm learning things about my father that I didn't know before. He told me that Dr Cullen recommended that cooking the food myself would give me control over what I eat and when. Then again, Charlie could be making that up just so he doesn't have to order take out all the time. Dr Cullen might be right, but cooking is something that I have always enjoyed. I guess I forgot that until I started doing it again.

It was going to take time to build up my appetite to what it once was. I knew that, but it didn't stop the stomach cramps I experienced after my first proper meal. I had never felt so much physical pain before. It made me want to throw up what little I had eaten to see if that would help, but I was trying to prove that I didn't have an eating disorder so I suffered through it with the help of a hot water bottle and some pain relief. Charlie didn't know what to do to help me. I think he believed they were menstrual cramps. I was in too much pain to tell him any different, so he left me to it.

Today is my first day of school, and it's the middle of the semester. Perfect, I think sarcastically. Charlie managed to get me enrolled pretty quickly. I think being the Chief of Police helped him with that. I bet that role gets you all kinds of benefits around this little town.

I hope that I haven't missed too much in my time away from school. Being the new kid sucks enough as it is. I was in a lot of AP classes back in Phoenix so maybe I'll catch up quickly if that's the case. Yeah, I'm a geek, but I'm okay with that. I think having to do school work will give me a distraction from the mess my life has been lately. I just have to survive to the end of each day and then I can go home again. It shouldn't be too hard, right?

Charlie is driving me to the school in his police cruiser. I guess he will be every day until I can afford a car of my own. I suppose I'm okay with that although maybe I should feel embarrassed about it. Then again, it's not like everyone won't know who I am already anyway. That's what happens when everybody knows everyone else's business. Getting a lift beats walking anyway. I don't think I have the energy it requires to walk all that way in the first place. I'm not even sure that I'm strong enough for a full day of school yet.

When Charlie pulls up in the parking lot, I get out of the car. He joins me. I wasn't expecting that.

"I'll, uh, just show you where the office is," he says.

Just perfect, I really didn't need to attract any more attention. I can already hear that several conversations have gone quiet as we head towards the building. When I look around the lot, I think I see almost every pair of eyes on me and my father.

Let's get this over with already.

I follow Charlie into the building and down a hallway. I'm glad one of us knows where they're going. We walk through some double doors and in to what looks like a reception area.

Charlie approaches the desk which is manned by an older woman. I read a sign on the desk which has a name written on it. I'm assuming this is Mrs Cope.

"Chief Swan! So good to see you," the woman gushes.

"Mrs Cope," he curtly replies. "This is Bella," he introduces me.

"Hello dear," says Mrs Cope.

I nod my response.

"Uh, she's shy… doesn't talk much," Charlie tells her.

Is that what he's telling people?

"Oh, of course, you told me on the phone! All of her teachers have been informed, so school should be a little easier for her."

What have they been told exactly? I don't want everyone to know my business.

Mrs Cope continues, "Here is your class schedule and a map of the school. Someone should be along any minute to guide you around and show you to your first class."

You're kidding me… I don't need a tour guide. I just want to go to class and then go home again.

"Well, I'll just leave you to it," Charlie says as a goodbye. He walks back through the doors that we entered.

I watch him go.

Crap, please don't leave me here. I don't think I can do this anymore. I want to go home.

"Are you alright, dear?" I hear Mrs Cope ask.

I turn to look at her. As I do, I hear the door behind me swing open.

"You must be Isabella!"

I look at the person who greeted me so loudly. How can she look so happy? Is she on something?

"I'm Alice. We're going to be such great friends!"

Should I be freaking out about this? Weirdly enough, a small part of me believes her. I haven't really had a proper friend before. I prefer to be alone.

I take in Alice's appearance. She is tiny, and I mean that both height and weight wise, like a ballerina. Her hair is short and black, sticking out in all directions. I wonder if her crazy hair is any indication of her personality.

"So… let me take you to class," she says as she takes my class schedule from my hands. "Oh! That's my first one too."

She hands me back the piece of paper, hooks her arm through mine, and walks us out of reception.

"It looks like we're in a lot of the same classes. Isn't that lucky?" she asks. I hope she isn't expecting me to answer.

This is all a bit overwhelming.

Our first class is English Literature. It was always my favourite back in Phoenix. I've already read this novel though. I was hoping for something new. That's another thing I had forgotten- just how much I enjoyed reading. Maybe I should try to find the local bookstore after school. Does Forks even have one? I bet Alice would know.

Alice sits next to me and tries to pass me notes every so often. I don't respond to them, making it obvious that I'm trying to pay attention to what is being taught. She doesn't seem to be offended by my behaviour. I'm not sure if anything could offend her, not that I want to. I'm actually sort of flattered that she's trying so hard with me. Not a lot of people would.

She guides me to my next couple of classes and stays by my side in those that she shares with me. She's actually really useful as she politely tells the students around us who I am when they ask. She answers all of their questions, taking the pressure off of me. All I seem to be able to do is try to smile when required, or nod or shake my head if a response is needed. None of the teachers bother me either. It's been a good day so far, I decide.

At lunch time, Alice walks with me to the cafeteria.

"Will you sit with us today? Please?"

I can tell that she's used to getting her own way quite often. I don't think I have a lot of choice but to stay with her. It's been raining all day so I can't escape to get some fresh air and be by myself.

I nod to give her my answer which makes her squeal in delight. I've never heard someone squeal before.

"Do you need to buy your lunch?"

I shake my head.

"Great. Follow me."

We walk over to an occupied table on the far side of the room. Waiting for us are three other people, one girl and two guys. Alice takes a seat next to one of the boys, leaving the seat next to her free.

"Everyone, this is Isabella," she smiles at them. She looks at me as she points to each individual, "this is Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie. They're my brothers and sisters."

I give them a small wave, feeling put on the spot. I feel intimidated by them if I'm being honest with myself. They're all so… beautiful, Rosalie especially. They don't look very much like siblings though. Jasper is kissing Alice, and Emmett has his arm over Rosalie's shoulder.

Should I be grossed out by this, or does everyone practice incest in Forks?

"You look a little confused," Rosalie says as she looks at me wearily.

"Oh! I should probably explain," Alice cuts in. "We're all adopted. Rosalie and Jasper are twins though."

That suddenly makes a lot more sense. But it's still strange. They all have the same pale white skin. Glancing around the table, I quickly look at them all again. There's something else… their eyes. They all have the same golden coloured eyes.

Just like Dr Cullen…

I thought they were all adopted?

"Now you look even more confused than earlier, little one," booms Emmett, who then laughs at me.

You've got that right.

"Emmett, don't scare her," says Jasper.

I notice that Jasper has a southern accent but Rosalie doesn't. I thought they were meant to be twins?

Maybe they were separated at birth?

"So, Isabella, what are you doing this evening? Do you want to come over to our place?" asks Alice.

"She probably has her own plans already, Alice," argues Rosalie.

I silently thank her. I don't think I'm ready for that just yet. Besides, we've only known each other since this morning.

"Maybe next week then?" questions Alice.

I shrug in response, and hope that she isn't offended by my apathy.

I take my lunch out of my bag as the siblings talk amongst themselves. For some reason, the only thing I want to snack on at the moment are pop tarts. Today, I've gone with chocolate flavoured. Yesterday, it was strawberry.

As I unwrap the packaging, Emmett says, "What the hell is that?" He looks kind of disgusted as he points the sugary goodness in my hands.

I shrug once again, and drop the pop tart, suddenly put off by my food.

"Now look what you've done," scolds Alice.

"Hey, I didn't mean-"

"Shut up, Emmett," interrupts Rosalie.

"Sorry," he says quietly.

I don't think I'm hungry anymore. I'm not even sure that I really was to begin with. I hope Charlie won't be disappointed later when he sees that I haven't eaten. Maybe I could throw it in the trash before he picks me up.

I feel stupid though for thinking that I could try to fit in here and be normal.

I pack up my lunch and grab my bag.

I want to go home.

As I stand from the table, Alice grabs my hand. Her touch is just as cold as Dr Cullen's. She's also quite strong for such a little person.

"Please don't go. He didn't mean anything by it," she begs.

I'm sure he didn't, but I don't want to be here anymore. I manage to get out of her grip and walk away.

On my way to the school's exit, I walk past what I assume are the music rooms. The signs on the doors tell me that much at least.

One of the rooms is open. There's no one around so I walk in and close the door.

The room is mostly filled by a piano. It looks like it hasn't been used for a while. I dump my bag by the door and walk over to it.

I haven't played the piano in a long time. I had to stop when Mom couldn't afford the lessons any more. My wage from the library back in Phoenix went towards helping to pay the bills, so I couldn't pay for them myself.

I play a scale and see that the instrument is still in tune. This makes me smile. I was never allowed to tune the piano myself so I wouldn't know how to go about doing it.

I begin to play the first song that comes in to my head.

I stop half way through when I hear an odd noise. Looking around the room, I realise that the noise came from me.

I was singing.