A/N: Jesus Christ, "Wolfie" is the equivalent of Izzy. Kind of scary, right? O_O

Once Drew got up for school, he was already sitting at the door holding his backpack. At this time, Trixie stumbled down the stairs. She really wanted to eschew this whole "kindergarten" thing – she really didn't like talking – but I just wouldn't let her.

Trixie simply watched the window wistfully. "Mommy, can I please stay home?"

"No," I shook my head. "Besides, you'll probably meet someone nice."

She started playing with her pigtails – they were sleek, and they fell across her shoulders, so they weren't very preppy. She also wore a black and blue striped sweater, black jeans, and black boots. Drew had on a black V-neck shirt with tremendously dark blue skinny jeans and red sneakers (he was a strong "one small, strong splash of color" believers).

Once the bus strolled by, Drew quickly threw his backpack over his shoulder, ripped open the door and dashed into the bus. Bella walked up to me, hugged me, and strolled outside like she was going to Death Row.

I pat her head and said, "Oh, Trixie. You'll be alright, dear." I said sympathetically.

She nodded and waved, "Bye, bye. I hope so."

The two then boarded the bus, and I got ready for work.

++++++++Trixie's Perspective++++++++

Kindergarten was a bore.

After a boring day of learning how to correctly write the letter "a", we finally got to go outside. I was stuck in a perpetual cycle of climbing up a ladder, sliding down the slide, and repeating the process.

After three cycles, someone got behind me. I turned around. Some girl was standing there with short, scruffy black hair and a black dog collar. I think there was even a small leash sticking out of her pocket.

For her outfit, she wore an aqua hoodie and a pink shirt underneath with blue jeans. For shoes, she wore pink Mary Jane shoes with an aqua strap going across.

"Hi," she waved. I sat on the ladder and nodded.

"Hi, I'm Bellatrix." I introduced myself. I then clarified, "Call me Trixie."

"Oh! That's a pretty name!" she beamed. "My name's Tiffany, but I'm a wolf. So call me Wolfie!"

Oh, it's a game. Probably Twilight. Then she laughed, "ROAR!"

I smiled. She seemed nice – a little crazy, but nice. Maybe I needed a splash of non-silence. We simply slid on the slide, played some ridiculous – yet fun – game of "Werewolves Versus Vampires" (a game where one vampire had to attack the werewolf before the werewolf turned the tables and tore you to shreds). Due to lack of experience, the werewolves won.

However, after the playground monitor saw Wolfie tackle me to the ground, she "banned" the game.

"You two could get hurt!" she exclaimed as I brushed the mulch from my jeans, and wiped the dirt from my boots.

"Oh, it's okay!" Wolfie said crossly. "Jeez, she didn't break her arm or twist or ankle! She's still 100% fine!"

The monitor crossed her arms, and I just nodded. "I'm alright."

The monitor rolled her eyes and said, "Whatever. One bruise and it's banned."

Wolfie rolled her eyes and muttered, "Pfft, okay."

She turned to me and exclaimed, "Come on! Werewolf time!"

Wolfie then sprinted around the playground, and I shrugged and decided to chase her.

I came home and immediately wrote Wolfie's home phone number on a piece of paper at home. She gave it to me earlier, so I might as well put it in the notebook my mom got me to use later (when I could write better).

I did my homework and showed it to my dad – I had to write the letter "a" like, fifteen times.

A. A. A. A. Then, they shook things up a bit.

a. a. a. a. a. Very creative.

My dad said, "So, you just had to write 'a' fifteen times?"

I shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Nice."

"Thanks."

Drew did okay, too.

Later, my mom had to buy stuff from the mall, and I begged her for a vampire shirt. After a lot of arguments, she finally agreed.

"No Twilight, that franchise is disgusting," she said.

"Yeah. Just a regular vampire shirt."

We ended up getting this Chronicles of Vladimir Tod shirt, which was a little smiley face with fangs. To go with that, I got bright red skinny jeans and a black wristband.

"Aw, God," my mom smiled. "You're so dark."

I smiled. "I've always been silent. And dark."

She shrugged, grinned, and asked, "Why are you so into vampires anyway?"

"I made a friend."

"Oh! Who?"

"Wolfie!"

She paused. "Werewolf fanatic?"

I nodded. "Yeah. She's nice. And, it's kind of a cool fad."

She shrugged again, and kept driving. "Never was into that stuff."

I smiled and said, "But I like it."

++++++++Gwen's Perspective++++++++

Kill me now.

I hated the vampire chaos. Hated, hated, hated it. I promised to myself I'd never let her get into Twilight – and I refuse to. However, to my relief, she agreed that Twilight was simply some fat author who got lucky with a wickedly terrible, dim-witted saga.

Sometimes, Trixie simply amazes me. Drew was pretty fucking amazing, too, but…he was so normal. Sometimes I think all the aspects of my personality that make me so unique went into Trixie. Drew was so happy and dazzlingly perfect to be an equal mix between Duncan and I.

However, even when things were depressing and saddening (when my mom and Peter visited last year against all wishes), Drew's personality (oblivious to everything, peppy) made things just a bit brighter.

We came back home with Trixie's new wardrobe. She immediately hung it up with pride. Duncan looked at me and asked, "Vampirism?"

I nodded and looked towards Drew, who was fiddling with a soccer ball. "How's kindergarten?"

"Awesome! At recess, our team won." He smiled.

I nodded. "Very, very nice."

He then dragged it outside and said, "I'm going to practice!"

Once they were gone, I looked at Duncan, who was simply sitting on the couch, reading emails. "Oh, God. They're starting to have interests."

I fell back on his chest. "It's so boring nowadays."

He nodded. "I know. Nothing is going on. Not even in the news."

"…I may try making something?"

"It's going to suck."

"Thanks for your support."

I took his computer, shut off his email, and looked up recipes.

After a lot of searching, I found one easy-looking recipe for French Onion Soup. I mean, it was just heating up a can of soup and putting cheese on the top. Pfffft.

I ruin everything.

You know when you melt cheese, and it seeps everywhere? I lied it on top of the soup and over the ledge, so then it wouldn't collapse towards the bottom. I mean, it was a surefire plan. I put it in the oven and allowed to melt. However, when I got it out, the Swiss was everywhere. It even dripped off the cookie sheet and into the oven itself.

I called Duncan in and complained, "Duncan! Duncan!"

"Is the kitchen on fire?"

"It looks like a dairy farm exploded in the oven."

He looked at it and rolled his eyes. "Seriously? How much cheese does four fucking bowls of soup need?"

I paused. "I wanted it to be cheesy…"

He smacked his forehead and said, "Don't ever cook with cheese again. Never. Ever. Ever."