Chapter 7

Monday morning found Renesmee cast back into her usual routine. The two key differences: the Jacob sized hole had gotten larger, the ache more palpable; she was not speaking to her father. She drove her car past the Juneau-Douglas high school gates and scanned the student car-park for a space. There was a space beside Devon Hayes' Audi. Renesmee groaned internally; Devon had been one of the girls desperate to get to grips with Jacob's anatomy at the party. Renesmee scowled as she remembered and pulled the silver Volvo into the space. She killed the engine and sighed, reaching for her rucksack. A tap at the driver's window caused her to look up, Devon beamed at her through the glass. Renesmee forced a smile and moved her hand to the door handle, Devon stepped back so that she could open the door. As soon as she exited the car she was assailed by Devon's excited chatter.

"Renesmee! Great party...everyone's talking about it!"

Renesmee smiled at the girl, she wasn't so bad – she was actually pretty decent. She deserved Renesmee's kindness, regardless of the turmoil that raged inside of her.

"Hey, Devon – glad that you enjoyed it."

Devon linked arms with her as Renesmee turned and began to head towards the school's main building. She chattered about the party, what everyone had been wearing, the music, how cool Alice seemed. Renesmee smiled but made no reply. Devon had been what you would call a friend ever since Renesmee had joined the high school and Renesmee liked her, truly, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not engage on the same level as Devon or any of the other girls in her classes. They had reached the lockers. Renesmee entered the combination and opened the cool metal door to retrieve her copy of 1984. When she closed it, Devon smiled,

"So?" she said.

"What?" Renemsee responded.

"Oh come on Renesmee...who was that guy at your party...drool worthy..."

A feeling that could only be described as possessiveness took hold of Renesmee's system,

"A friend." she lied.

"A friend? Please - he was like clearly obsessed with you. He totally ignored every other girl there."

Renesmee detected a hint of envy in Devon's tone. She did not like it; this was the sort of thing that she consistently endeavoured to avoid. Besides, she did not want to talk about Jacob – talking about him was a reminder of his absence and whenever she was reminded of that, the pain she felt would increase ten-fold and the pull between them would protest loudly. She did not want to talk about him, but she knew that Devon would not let up. If she gave Devon something to pacify her she would at least shut up for a while and then the other girls would leave her alone because Devon would relay every little morsel of information back to them. Renesmee met her eyes,

"He's a friend from back in Forks."

"What kind of friend? The way he was holding you...and he wouldn't dance with anyone else."

"Ok...maybe slightly more than a friend," Renesmee admitted blushing.

"I knew it!" Devon exclaimed, "Gayle said there was no way 'cause he's clearly older than us...how old is he?"

"He's nineteen, nearly twenty."

"He looks way older...like twenty five or something...how cool are your parents letting you see him?"

Renesmee winced internally. Her parents...Devon was talking about Carlisle and Esme of course. It simply was not plausible to expect people to believe that Bella and Edward were her parents, not when they appeared to be the same age as her. The Cullens had concocted a new story on their arrival at Juneau: the good doctor Carlisle Cullen and his beautiful wife, Esme had adopted all of these teenagers. They were all, bar Renesmee, college students. She was Edward's little sister – their resemblance was too uncanny to be explained away.

"Yes...my parents are really cool..." Renesmee smiled weakly.

"So, how long have you been going with him?"

"We aren't...it's complicated."

"'Cause he lives so far?"

"Yes."

"But he is pretty much your boyfriend right?" Devon asked eagerly.

"Yes...he's my boyfriend."

If only Devon knew how insufficient that word was for describing who Jacob was in her life and what he meant to her. Soul-mate, life companion, kindred spirit, one true love and any other number of terms would have been closer to the truth than plain old 'boyfriend'. The word implied a degree of frivolity and temporariness. Jacob was forever to her.

"You are so lucky...he is totally hot. I think pretty much every girl at the party was scoping him out...is he at college?"

Renesmee recovered herself from the idea that every girl at her party, many of them purporting to be her friends, had been lusting after Jacob and said,

"Yes, he studies in Port Angeles."

Devon looked disappointed. Renesmee knew that her answers bordered on the robotic, they gave little away. Devon wanted details, but Renesmee could not find it in herself to confide as much as she wanted to. She would never be able to convey to Devon who Jacob was and how she felt about him. Besides, there was a part of her that wanted to keep what they shared a secret – a world that only existed between the two of them. Revealing it to anyone else felt as though she would be cheapening it.

"And his name is..."

"Jacob. Jacob Black." Renesmee's heart pounded at the verbalisation of his name. She wondered where he was. Would he be back in La Push, at college, still travelling? The dull throbbing that went to her core increased. No matter where he was, she was not there with him and if her father had his way, she wouldn't be for a long time to come, "Come on, we're going to be late" she said and ushered Devon in the direction of their literature class. Devon pouted, clearly put out that she would not be discovering anything more about Jacob Black.

The day dragged on and Renesmee oscillated between only two topics in her internal monologue: Jacob and her father, her father and Jacob. At the front of the classroom, Mr Mahoney droned on about simultaneous equations, showing the class how to work through some of the problems that he'd sprung on them in a pop-quiz as they had entered the afternoon class. Renesmee knew that all of her answers were correct. They always were. With the exception of literature, she put little effort into any of her classes. To her teachers, the pretty bronze haired girl was disengaged entirely from the content of the classes she took and the lives and interests of the classmates that surrounded her; but they let that slide. Every piece of work that she had ever handed in was of exceptional quality – her intelligence and aptitude startlingly clear, and she was good at sports – the best cross country runner the school had ever seen. They put her disengagement down to the fact that school held little challenge for her; she would excel in college, they were sure.

Renesmee doodled in the margins of her notebook; the stars that she had been drawing had morphed into little wolves, then a ring, remarkably like the one that she wore on her left hand. The memory of Jacob giving her the ring, the way that he had kissed her and touched her bloomed in her mind. Unthinking, she placed her left hand on the notebook and looked at the ring. The strangled gasp beside her jerked her out of the memory. She looked up and turned her head swiftly to her right. Devon sat and stared at the ring, her right hand covered her mouth. She looked as though she might burst. Renesmee pulled her hand from the notebook as if she'd been scalded, placing it on her left knee beneath the desk.

"Is there a problem Ms. Hayes?" Mr Mahoney asked from the front of the classroom.

"No," Devon answered in a strained voice, "No, sorry sir, no problem."

Mr Mahoney nodded then shook his head a little, teenage girls... Devon waited until he had begun to explain simultaneous equations again, then she ripped a sheet from her own notebook and started scribbling frantically. Renesmee groaned internally, she should have taken the ring off or at least have moved it to her right hand. Devon had failed to see it that morning because the sleeve of her coat had covered it. She held her breath and waited for Devon to finish scribbling. Moments later, she passed the folded paper with as much stealth as a rhinoceros, her skin glowing with the satisfaction of having discovered a scoop of epic proportions. Renesmee unfolded the paper and read the rounded handwriting:

OMG! That ring is freaking gorgeous – did JB give it to u?

Renesmee resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She could have kicked herself for being so reckless. She had no choice, she would have to tell Devon the truth. She picked up her pen and wrote:

Yes.

She should have known that this would not suffice for Devon.

So y did he give it to u?

Birthday gift

Who gives a ring like that for a birthday gift? Y r u wearing it on that finger?

Because it fits

Tell me!

Because it fits.

Coz he's in love with u or something. Boys don't give rings for no reason. He's totally serious about u. U r soooo lucky!

Mr Mahoney looked up at them and Renesmee breathed an internal sigh of relief,

"Am I going to have to send you to the principal Ms. Hayes?" he asked sternly.

"No sir..."

"Then start working through the problems on page twenty of your textbook. Now!"

Devon obeyed immediately; Renesmee screwed up the notebook paper and put it in the pocket of her jeans. There would be no more discussion in that lesson.