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A/N: It's 1 am I am not wearing pants, and I shouldn't be starting a new story. I feel frazzled, okay. Hope I don't regret posting this tomorrow, lol. I jUst WaNT to WrITe TwILight fanFictiOn OkaY?

P.S. this is an AU something fierce. Jacob doesn't imprint on Renameme. Bella never get's preggers, poor Charlie has no idea about Jake and his shape-shifting ways. Also they didn't get married because marriage at 19 is just a no go for me. The Cullens left town, and basically followed their original plan before Jakey boy took matters into his own hands. Also, when is it too early to eat a pepperoni tostino's pizza? Is 9 am too early?

"So, did you hear?" Two young girls sat tucked away in a quiet alcove. The darker haired of the two leaned in close and snickered softly. The fair haired companion drummed her long acrylic nails repeatedly against the laminate retro dining table.

Grace Novarro was minding her own business, scrubbing away at a day old ketchup stain. But it was noon on a Wednesday and business was slow. Not to mention there was that awful wrapping of nails on plastic.

A beat. Tap. Another beat. Tap.

Besides, a little eavesdropping never hurt anyone. Tap.

"Hmm?" The blonde girl hummed with eyes fixated on her cell phone, it didn't take rocket science to know she wasn't really paying attention.

"Well, you remember Isabella Swan, right?" The darker haired girl whispered conspiratorially attempting to catch the attention of her friend.

Grace idly scrubbed away, straining to hear the hushed conversation. At the mention of Isabella Swan, she paused, and hurriedly sifted through the blurry memories of high school until she landed on a faded face framed with brown tresses.

"No, I don't think so." The girl responded. Grace supposed she couldn't blame her, Isabella Swan had done an impressive job of hiding. Grace probably could have learned a thing or two from her.

"We went to school with her, remember? I think you sat next to her in biology sophomore year." The dark haired girl prodded, twisting her hands in time with her words. "She had that like half dead look on her face all the time?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess I remember her." The light haired girl shrugged innocuously.

A beat. Tap.

Grace fixed one last scrutinizing gaze on the granite table before deeming it passable. Gathering her rag and plastic bucket she moved onto the next booth ignoring the slosh of lukewarm soapy water that threatened to spill from the sides.

"Did you know she died?" The girl exclaimed, all too happy to pass on the news.

Grace looked up at that, searching the dark haired girl's face for any sign of deception. Isabella Swan had only been a year older than her, could she really be dead?

The fair-haired girl lifted her head up at that as well, phone screen abandoned momentarily, "What? Like actually?"

"Yeah, it's insane right?" Confirmed her companion while repressing a smile.

"How did you find out?" Pressed the other girl, Grace was glad. She was starting to wonder how refutable the dark haired girl was, after all who delivered information like that with such a morbidly pleased smile?

"I read it on an article or something, pretty legit. Said she died of like some kind of flu or something." Responded the dark haired girl.

"Hmm, that's kind of sad," Hummed the other girl, once again returning to her cell phone. Tap.

"I know right."

And no more was said on the subject.

Grace continued her cleaning while mulling over the conversation that had just transpired. While she hadn't thought about Isabella Swan in over five years something about the news of her death had stuck a chord inside of her. A nasty ugly curious chord.

People died every day.

Young people died every day.

Grace hadn't even been friends with Isabella, she could hardly remember what she looked like. Just that lingering haunted hollow look. A shiver ran down her spine before she returned to her cleaning.

That night Grace shamefully googled Isabella Swan. There was very little in the way of article's available, apparently the mysterious death of a twenty-two year old with no known health issues wasn't big enough to be plastered all over the news.

After obtaining an unsatisfying amount of information Grace clicked onto her Facebook page. Multiple people had left various comments on her timeline.

RIP. Bella. So full of life.

So loved. Fly high, girl.

It's always a tragedy when young people die, I mean you never did see a happier girl.

Something about the whole thing felt wrong, forced. The Isabella Swan Grace knew was quiet and demure. She didn't talk to anyone and waded through the hallways like a ghost. Could she really have changed so much when she moved?

No, that didn't seem right.

People didn't just change like that. Grace tapped a finger to her cheek before scrolling farther down. The page was sparse, after the condolence messages there was a video of a very young Bella holding up a wiggling fish from twelve years ago. She giggled every time it splashed water on her. But even then she still wore that same reserved expression.

Grace sighed and resolved herself to scouring the internet for more information. When Isabella's name yielded no new material she decided to google Forks, Washington.

Forks, Washington, animal attacks.

Another hiker has been found dead, a few miles south of Elk Creek. Bringing the body count up to a staggering twelve. No new information is currently being divulged.

Animal attacks? Grace thought while resting her elbows on the surface of her desk and holding her head in her hands, what the hell kind of animals did they have in Forks, Washington? And could the murders have anything to do with Isabella's strange death?

It was a stab in the dark, yes, but Grace had no other ideas. She couldn't very well solve a potential murder if she'd never even been to Forks. And then a dangerous sobering thought bubbled up inside of her.

"No," Grace mumbled aloud angrily to herself in an attempt to curb the ridiculous notion that was already taking root, "No, you can not move to Washington. Are you insane?" She supposed she very well might be, after all she was talking to herself now.

Grace slammed her laptop shut and closed her eyes. It was nearing four in the morning. She was sleep deprived, that was all, in the morning she'd be refreshed and able to clearly see how foolish that brief idea had been.

That night she dreamt of Isabella Swan and her tired cold eyes.

So loved. Full of life.

The next morning Grace awoke with a start, and yes, she was very aware of how reckless her plan had the potential to be. After all how could she truly know there was anything nefarious about the poor girl's death. Did she really want to travel thirty hours away to play detective? Because what? She had a bad feeling?

Yes, yes she did. As the sunlight filtered in through the blinds Grace was finding it harder and harder to justify staying. She worked a crappy job she hated, all of her friend's had left for college, and were moving on with their lives. Maybe it was time she did to?

Okay, go to trade school. Find a boyfriend. Buy a house. Don't move thirty hours away because you're bored. Grace rubbed at her face furiously as she attempted to organize her thoughts. She could make a pro/con list. But even in her chaotic state she could see how ridiculous that idea was.

Maybe she was having an existential crisis?

With a final heavy sigh Grace trudged out of bed and headed for the kitchen. Coffee. Coffee would help.

And it did. Mostly.

Realistically there was no good reason to leave. Grace wouldn't have the advantage of knowing anybody, and then she'd have to find a job along with a place to stay fairly quickly. Busking tables for a living didn't pay much. And not to mention the most obvious she had a life here in Arizona. Yeah, it was boring, but it was hers.

The more she thought on it she realized there was no good reason to stay either. After all she had no real friends, and she never went out. All Grace did was work, sleep, and repeat. If she moved to a new state she'd have no choice but to meet new people. And there was Isabella's puzzling death.

Despite herself Grace longed for something new. Her life here was easy, and that was fine when she'd just graduated high school and didn't know what she wanted to do yet. Of course, she still wasn't entirely sure, but she wanted to find out. And if that meant leaving everything behind to investigate the mysterious death of her old classmate, well, so be it.

Uprooting your life and moving across the country, or halfway, or a quarter of the way seemed like a good idea in theory. But as Grace rounded hour twenty-eight of the thirty-three hour drive the anxiety set in. She usually liked to think she was pretty good at minding her own business, so why had she abandoned her life in Arizona to investigate some half-baked conspiracy theory?

Well, it had been a spontaneous decision.

And Grace didn't usually do spontaneous, she liked normal. But normal had gotten her a job at a crap diner while all of her friends went off to college. She was a waitress; you couldn't get more vanilla than that. But, it had never meant to be permanent, it had started off as a summer job while she mulled over the possibility of school. And then it turned into a gap year, and another gap year, and then another after that.

But, even through the panic laden drumming of her hands against the steering wheel Grace couldn't' find herself regretting her decision. Instead she twisted the volume nob on her radio and let Brian Sella's broken voice fill the car. Better than the mind-numbing silence.

Grace hadn't had to say goodbye to much when she left Arizona, just her parents. They weren't incredibly close so it wasn't a huge loss, yet Grace still felt a pang at the thought of her mother and her houseplants. Grace's parent's were hippie ne'er do well's who spent a majority of their life tripping on acid and preaching adventure.

So, It had taken very little convincing on Grace's part to get their blessing. While she was nearing twenty-one and had lived on her own for a few years now she still wanted to get her parent's opinion. They were carefree and beckoned the call of adventure, so if they thought it was a bad idea Grace figured she'd probably burry her curiosity and stay.

Grace had marched up to their RV, a monster of a vehicle that they had spent Grace's entire senior year refurbishing. Paint chipped at the edges, and a Jesus tapestry was being utilized as a makeshift curtain. Reggie was scrawled across the side of the van in her mother's great big loopy handwriting.

And what a sight Reggie was.

When she'd explained her plan to her parents they had laughed giddily, glad that their daughter was finally venturing further out. They had always been advocates of stepping out of your comfort zone. When she was young they pushed her to try many different things.

The farewell was simple, Grace's mother had engulfed her in a hug and cried a little, her father had handed her a homemade candle and a five dollar gift card to Subway. And that was that.

So with their hearty blessing Grace took off. It had felt good to finally hand in her apron and say goodbye to Joe's Diner forever. She was excited and jittery. Grace had already scheduled a few interviews for the following day when she'd arrived in Forks. She'd also give away a large chunk of her savings to a realtor that had rented her a small dirt cheap house on the edge of town.

Everything was coming together nicely, almost too nicely. In an attempt to drown out her negative thoughts she twisted the dial on the radio.

But this is my body.

The only thing I own.

Entirely.

Grace thought the lyrics were fitting.