Chapter 3! I'm so proud of myself. I'm on a roll at the moment, so to speak. If you read the A/N that was last chapter, I hope things make sense to you. Sorry for the confusion .. In any case, yet another high school experience: Lunch! Poor Renesmee = (.

Disclaimer: The usual…all I own are a couple of books, and a still lost hoodie. Lame. On the plus side, I do own that yummy teen-boy-god of goodness, Andy. Along with that as of yet unnamed snobby chick. Boo.

Group of girls banging on the door//So many new fair-weather friends ooo…//Have you ever been so lost
//Known the way and still so lost

-Lost-Katy Perry

~*~

I toyed with the crust of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, easily the least offensive thing in the cafeteria. And considering that this tasted pretty foul, that was saying quite a bit.

I had retreated to an empty table toward the back of the cafeteria, one I assumed my parents and aunts and uncles had occupied, based on the stories they used to tell me, and its location.

Strange, that after all these years, the table remained empty.

Or rather, almost empty. There were two more students, both of them obviously cast-offs like myself. They both glanced at me warily when I approached the table, before turning back to their books.

I thought I had this high school thing figured out. It couldn't have been much more different than it was on television and in the movies, right?

Wrong. It was entirely different. So far, the other four classes I had sat through, Trig, Bio, Government, and P.E., all of them honors with the exception of P.E. had been beyond boring. All the teachers did were go over the course outline, and warn us that the lessons would not be easy. And oddly enough, my government and P.E. teacher was none other than Coach Warren, the short, burly man who had addressed Andy this morning. Apparently, he had begun teaching here when my parents went here, and recognized my name.

"Another Cullen, eh? I'm already expecting your best, Miss Cullen." He said, with a small sneer.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Damn the reputation that preceded me. Damn it to hell.

"You do that then, sir." I replied quietly, as he handed my signed schedule back to me, and waved the next student forward.

Morosely, I continued to play with my sandwich, staring out over the cafeteria. I could have just as easily been sitting with anyone of the groups of students, but the idea was none too appealing. After being spotted with Andy this morning, I had encountered a flurry of interested questions, mainly from curious girls, asking if I was already involved with him.

Once I denied any involvement with this minor god that graced the halls of Forks High, the girls became disinterested in me largely, except for curious questions about my family, and my clothing. I was slowly deciding that maybe I rather stay at home than become a social butterfly, and go to school, like I had been so desperate to do originally.

"She's so stuck up. Look at her sitting over there by herself. What is she, too good to hang out with the rest of us?" I looked up, as the acidic works reached my ears. The blonde from earlier, whom I had since identified as Jennifer something-or-the-other, was pointing directly at me, a malicious grin stretching her lips. She fluttered her finger tips at me when she noticed me waving, and I rolled my eyes, turning back to my lunch.

"Don't mind that cow. She's just jealous." I looked up, spotting one of my two table mates, turning back from casting a glance over her shoulder. She closed her book, and smiled, sliding down her bench on the opposite side of the table.

"I'm Michaela…you're Renesmee Cullen, right?" I nodded, confused. How did everyone automatically know who I was?

"You're in my English class." Michaela continued, taking in my confused expression. She held up her copy of Animal Farm, which I immediately realized from class. Mrs. Cheney hadn't been kidding; English had easily been the most difficult class I had encountered so far…although none of the other classes had actually assigned any work. In just the hour allotted by the school board for our instruction, she had assigned us the first 20 pages and a critical analysis of three characters. I thought; I remembered her; she sat a row behind me, toward the middle of the class.

"You sit in the second row, around the middle, right? Next to that dude with the…hair?" I asked, motioning up toward my head. I had no name to describe the thin guy with the snakebite piercings, and the fauxhawk easily standing six or seven inches, stiff with hair gel and dyed green.

"Finnegan's the dude with the hair. It's kind of his trademark." Michaela replied, putting a name to the face. I suppressed a snort.

"I can tell. I didn't realize Forks allowed that kind of stuff? I assumed it was 'disruptive to the learning process'". I made air quotes as I spoke the phrase, and Michaela laughed, rolling her eyes.

"It is considered disruptive. He's already been told to get rid of it, from what I've heard. Don't worry; he'll have it in some equally distracting style by next Monday." She chuckled.

I looked over her shoulder, where Finnegan easily stood out, his hair like a neon sign, calling all attention to it.

"Is that even possible?" I snickered, and Michaela pretended to think. Her freckled nose scrunched in mock concentration as she twirled a lock of red hair around her finger.

"I…think it might be." She said, smirking. "So, what brings you to Forks High, after all these years? Haven't you guys been in two for like, three years?" Michaela asked curiously.

"Two years." I replied automatically, returning to shredding my sandwich crust. "And I don't know. My parents are protective, and wanted to keep home schooling me." Michaela nodded, as if she understood.

"Sounds like my parents. They home schooled me until the sixth grade. They said the outside world was full of perverts, and the schools would teach me a liberal, Darwinian sense of thinking." I blinked, confused. Darwinian sense of thinking?

"My father's a local minister." She matter-of-factly, taking a bite out of the apple she was holding.

"Oh." Well, that explained a lot. She nodded, taking in my confusion.

"He's big on the bible teaching. You know, God created man, Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve, the usual. He's not a big fan of me being here at Forks." She continued lightly. I actually found myself finding her company enjoyable, a first for today.

I heard an excited whoop, and I looked over Michaela's shoulder, my heart stuttering a bit, as I saw Andy, along with three other guys horsing around, throwing an apple.

Michaela looked over her shoulder, at the source of the noise. The apple, thrown by Andy, sailed over his friend's head, at a direct course for our table.

Michaela squeaked, ducking slightly, as the apple flew over her. Without thinking, my hands shot up, and I caught it, not wanted to get splattered in sticky juices if it smattered against the wall.

Slowly, I brought down my hands, frowning. Shit. I had just caught an apple that should have been running down the wall behind me in pieces. How was I gonna explain that?

Andy jogged over, his blue eyes slightly darkened with concern, and I exhaled sharply.

"Are you ok?" He asked, breathlessly, as Michaela sat up, staring, a slight look of awe on her face.

"Yeah." I replied, my voice small. I held up the apple, still cradled in my palms. "I caught it before it hit the wall." I said with a sheepish grin, my mind trying to process an acceptable lie, and pull me back to the real world.

"How the hell did you catch that?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"My um….my family plays a lot of baseball. I've been playing since I was little." The words came breathlessly, and I relaxed, relieved that I didn't have to lie.

"Ah." Andy replied, accepting my words, without question.

"Well," he replied dropping down onto the bench next to Michaela, who was still staring. "What are you doing over here all by yourself, when you should be with me?" Andy asked teasingly, a grin playing over his lips, catching me off guard.

I swear, if I didn't know any better, I would think this guy was a vampire. I pointed toward Michaela.

"I'm actually not over here by myself. I was kind of having a conversation before you oh-so-rudely tried to take me out with an apple." I said, smiling, hoping I didn't sound stupid.

Andy glanced at Michaela, giving her a brief nod and smile, which she returned, her face lighting up.

"Well, I wasn't aiming to do any damage." Andy joked, plucking the apple from my hand.

"Suuure you weren't. You weren't trying to drown me in apple bits." I replied, my hands fluttering nervously against each other, now that I didn't have the apple to distract me.

"Well, how about you let me buy you lunch sometime this week to make it up to you? It'll be just you and me…and the students in the cafeteria. It'll be like a date." He smirked, tossing the apple up.

"That doesn't sound very romantic." I mock-pouted, surprising myself. I was better at this flirting thing than I thought. Maybe staying with Aunt Rosalie and Uncle Emmett during the summer paid off.

"How about dinner and a movie, Friday night, then?" Andy asked, arching an eyebrow. "Just me, you, and a good of people we don't know in Port Angeles?" My heart soared, and I resisted the urge to bounce in my seat, squealing. I barely knew Andy, but a date? Best way to get to know someone, right?

"Sounds good to me." I replied, careful not to appear too eager. Andy's face split into a grin, and he stood, pulling out his phone.

"Great, what's your number? I'll text you sometime this week so we can set it up, yeah?" He asked, still smiling.

I gave him my number, and gave a little wave as he walked off, toward his friends. I turned back to Michaela, who I had all but forgotten about.

"Did Andy Crowley seriously just ask you on a date?" She whispered her eyes wide. I nodded, still smiling. She let out a little squeal, and my lips stretched into a grin.

Today wasn't turning out to be so bad after all.

A/N: Gah. I hate this chapter. Hate it with a passion. I want to torch it and toss it, but I dunno what else to do. I've recently encountered some resistance with writing Renesmee. A friend of mine told me that my personality is written all over this story, which frustrates me. I don't want to substitute myself in here, so this is getting difficult. But coming up with a Renesmee that matches the character from Breaking Dawn is hard. She's basically a Mary Sue to end all Mary Sues, and I want to lower that level of perfection, to make her more relatable, you know? I'm going to work out some kinks in her character, because right now, she's fluttering between unsure human Bella, and confident Edward, smooth and sure vampire. Which I suppose fits, but I dunno. Renesmee's gonna take some time to develop.

I know this chapter is shorter, and less awesome than the ones before it (not that they were awesome) but I've been at a loss for inspiration. I'm looking for some, and I will find it, eventually.

Also…REVIEW!!!! Two reviews for two chapters makes me sad =' (. And sad writer means less inspiration, and fewer chapters, which means bad news for the readers. The little green button is right down there. Is it really that difficult to click it, and write a couple of words? I'd be happy with a good job, or hell, even a "You fail at writing and canon." Ok, not that really, but just let me know what you think.

And as an incentive, every reviewer gets a quote from the next chapter =D. Doesn't that make you -want to run and review? I bet it does… so, hop to it! Please =).

-Dani