Note: Thanks for the feedback! Keep it coming! Also, thanks for correcting Nessie's eye color. I did update the chapter, but it doesn't seem to be taking…Hmm…

The characters, of course, belong to Stephenie Meyer. Well, most of them do.

I stepped through the large double doors of the school, immediately hit by its smell. A mixture of rusted metal, old sweat socks, musty wood, and…good grief, what did they clean this place with? The floors smelled of pasty vomit. There were times that I wish my senses weren't so heightened. This was definitely one of those times.

I entered through the office doors, seeing an older woman behind the counter, sorting through papers. That must be Mrs. Cope – my parents had described her in detail. My father chuckled in his recollection of how powerful of an effect he had on her. I hoped to see it for myself someday. He made it sound like she was completely in love with him.

She didn't notice me enter at first. I walked to the counter and cleared my throat to catch her attention. Instantly, her head snapped up.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. When she trained her full gaze on me, I heard her breath suck inward. She didn't seem to exhale.

"Hi. I'm Ness – er, Reneesme Cullen. I was told to check in here."

"Yes, of course," she sighed. She scrutinized me for another moment, then looked in her papers for my registration card. She read the card and looked at me again incredulously.

"You're…Edward Cullen's daughter?" she asked, slightly bewildered. My father would be amused when I told him about the look on her face.

"Yes," I replied, hoping she wouldn't press for more information.

"How….is that possible?" She seemed to talking to herself more than to me.

I just stood there for a moment. When it was clear she wasn't going to continue, I pressed on.

"Do you have my schedule ready? I'd really hate to be late on my first day," I sang sweetly.

She shook herself out of whatever state she was in. "Yes." She reached into another pile. "Here you are, dear."

I took the paper from her. "Thanks." I wanted to ask her for directions, but something told me that she wouldn't be much help right now. That stricken look stayed on her face.

I smiled at her and turned, leaving the office. I sighed. This might be harder than I thought.

My locker assignment was stapled to the back of the schedule. I followed the hallway, searching the numbers on the doors lining the walls.

Upon finding the correct door, I fumbled with the combination and finally sprung the lock free. I quickly stowed my messenger bag, grabbing a pen and shoving it hastily into my pocket.

As I turned to make my way to my first class, I saw a girl walking toward me. At least, I think she was a girl. She kept her head down, a black hoodie pulled down over it, allowing just a glimpse of sandy brown hair. She wore a backpack over one shoulder and hurried along the corridor, taking the first turn to her right and shuffling down the hallway. I wondered what her deal was.

I followed her down the same hallway. I noticed that she never seem to look up or loosen her hunched-over posture. She disappeared through a wood-framed doorway. My first class was across the hall.

I entered a brightly lit room littered with old tablet style desks. I was one of the last to enter. The subtle buzzing of the students seemed to stop suddenly as 20 pairs of eyes turned to me. Had I been able to blush, I imagined that I would be as red as a beet.

I took the first open desk and sat down, feeling those eyes now boring into the back of my head. I was right. It was going to be a long day.

A middle aged man entered the room with a worn leather satchel, which he sat on the table at the front of the room. He made a sweep across the room, his mouth moving as if he were counting. When his head swiveled in my direction, he stopped, his eyes widening. He quickly looked down at his bag and pulled some papers from the outside pocket. He pulled out a light blue paper. His eyes lifted to me.

"Uh…" he began, looking down at the blue paper again. "Rena…Reneesie….uh…"

"Rah-nez-meh, " I offered. He continued to look confused. "Nessie."

"Uh, right. Welcome to Forks High, Ms. Cull – er, Nessie. I'm Mr. Brown. Welcome to English."

********************************

The rest of my day continued much the same way. Finally, it was lunchtime. Instead of heading to the crowded cafeteria, I made my way outside to a small courtyard with a picnic table. The rain, which had been misting when I arrived this morning, stopped, the sun now attempting to peek through the remaining clouds. I sat on the table and planted my feet on the bench, plopping my bag beside me. This seemed like a good spot to observe my new surroundings without finding myself crushed in the throngs of other hungry students.

I removed a stainless steel thermos from my bag and unscrewed the cup, then popped open the flip-lid and sipped my meal. I wrinkled my nose at the lukewarm blood as it ran over my tongue. I much preferred it warm, but I couldn't have exactly asked someone to zap my mountain lion blood in the school's microwave. I'm sure it would have been considered a bio-hazard of some kind.

The crisp breeze felt good against my face. I welcomed the fresh air into my lungs, trying to clear them of the awful smell of the school building. Couldn't I just take classes outside? I might think better without all the pasty vomit smell.

I scanned the lines of students crossing the courtyard between the school buildings. A sea of bouncing heads and multi-colored bags going to and fro. Everyone looked the same to me for the most part, just different colors.

I began to notice a few turning and whispering to each other while looking in my direction. I tried to not let it bother me. Even though I looked more "human-like" then the rest of my family, I still didn't look quite right to most normal people. Something about me told them to stay away from me, though I don't know why. I assumed it was my vampire traits, though I'd never considered hunting people, never been thirsty for them. I'd listened to my Uncle Jasper's stories of tangles with the newborns after he was created and shuddered at the thought of them. I imagined the terror of their victims. I never wanted to inflict that kind of pain on anyone. I didn't see how it was worth it.

"A pretty bland bunch, aren't they?"

I whipped my head toward the sound of his voice. There, on my left, was a boy about 17 or 18, I guessed. His brown…no, mahogany hair fell in short, soft waves, ending at the nape of his neck. He wore a striped oxford shirt and light blue jeans, capped off by a pair of non-descript hiking sneakers. A weathered, light brown leather bag sat at his left side, on the table. He was looking at the same throng of people.

I was shocked that I had not heard his approach. Had I been too engrossed in my own thoughts? That seemed unlikely…but possible, I suppose.

He turned to me, flashing a pearly white smile. His eyes were a gorgeous shade of blue – much like the ocean after a summer storm. They twinkled at me. I forgot to breathe.

"Hiya," he said. "New here?"