Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and all of its characters. This is merely a bit of AU fun.

Even though most would encounter with the girl in the library was an utter and complete failure, I was stupid enough to hope for the chance that it could still spark a friendship with her. That she would approach me at lunch, tell me she was in a rush that day, or that my boyish charms had rendered her speechless, tell me how she agreed with my brilliant LA insights, and invite me for lunch. Then, in the future, the two of us would laugh at the sheer awkwardness during our first conversation.

However, the exact opposite turned out to be the case. Everything about me seemed to cause her distress. Each day at lunch, she made sure that I was in her direct line of sight, so she would notice if looked at her and stop my blatant stares with wary eyes. The rare times I would see her in the hall or the parking lot, she would immediately turn and go in the opposite direction. Once, I tried to approach her at lunch, to apologize and swear I wasn't a threat, but she had gathered her things and fled back into the building before I got halfway across the courtyard.

Eventually, I just gave up and let her be. I no longer parked in the ancillary parking lot with her. I made sure to sit with my back towards her at lunch, so she would be sure I wouldn't look at her and could focus on her reading. It got to the point where I no longer knew what color sundress she was wearing each day.

It was awful.

Esme must have noticed my despondency because her mothering went into overdrive. She began to pack me lunches with little notes like I was in kindergarten. She would bake me special treats and leave them in my room so the others couldn't get to them. I kept waiting for the irritation of my overbearing mother to overpower the longing I felt after the girl, but it never did. What was my problem? I had been saying goodbye to people my entire life. It should have been easy to forget this strange girl and move on, but her face lingered into my conscience far for often than it should. It didn't help that I was beginning to enjoy Esme's little surprises. The encouragement and desserts must be fueling the delusions, for I would dream of falling in love with the girl every night, and soon those dreams leaked into my mental musing during the day until she was literally all I could think about.

When the treats weren't making an obvious change, Esme roped my siblings into her plans as well—she must have decided the adoption was causing my mood and figured more family time would be the cure. Emmett would wake me up early to work out with him in the basement. Jasper would drag me down to the beach with him whenever he saw me inside. Alice would trick me into going downtown with the promises of food but would pull me into every store we passed.

Rosalie had been the only one of my siblings who had not attempted to squeeze me into their lives, and I would have been insulted by the fact if I didn't respect it so much. So, it was a surprise that when Rosalie called Emmett's phone after we were enjoying breakfast after a particularly painful workout, she asked for me.

It wasn't a social call, but I had already figured that out. Rosalie had merely left her sheet music for her piano lesson in her room and needed me to bring it to her during homeroom. There wasn't even a goodbye—she simply listed her demand, hung up, and expected me to follow through.

When I gave Emmett a what-was-that-all-about look, he threw back I-don't-know-don't-ask-me. There was something in his eyes that told me I should just do what Rosalie wanted and not ask questions.

Up on the second floor, Rosalie's room was unsurprisingly similar to Rosalie herself: Pretty and practical. Her room had a balcony facing the ocean, just as mine did, and her furniture just as sparse, but her room had the light, gentle touches of a teenage girl: candles, fake flowers, lots of pictures of her with friends arranged in a heart on the wall.

Sitting beside the balcony was her keyboard. I had no idea we had a piano in the household. I turned it on briefly and fluttered my fingers over the keys before abruptly turning it off again. I remembered enjoying the piano when it was offered at an elementary school in Seattle. I thought I even remembered being good at it. When I switched foster homes and got relocated to Forks, their schools didn't have enough funding for luxuries such as music classes. So, my piano lessons came to a crashing halt, and I figured they were something I would just have to leave behind in my past lives, like everything else.

Feeling silly for touching Rosalie's keyboard, I snatched her sheet music and went to my car, shutting off my thoughts of a beautiful grand piano and a beautiful girl in a beautiful sundress dancing to their music.

Once at school, I informed my homeroom teacher that I needed to bring something to my sister and would miss the rest of homeroom so I could get to first period on time. Ms. Cope had Rosalie in her homeroom last year when she was a junior, and immediately brightened at the sound of her name. "Oh! How is Rosalie? I hope she's alright!"

"Fine. I just need to bring her some sheet music."

"Oh, of course you do!" Ms. Cope cooed, "She's an angel, and angels must sing!"

There wasn't really a response to that other than a head nod and a curt wave goodbye.

I exited the main building to head up to North Campus where Rosalie and the rest of the AP seniors had class. Rosalie stood out in the hallway, waiting for me. This would be our first interaction at school. Rose refused to drive me since day one and even though the entire school shared a lunch period, she was careful to never have our paths cross. I wasn't sure what caused the scowl on her face—the fact that she made a mistake and needed help or my presence. Whatever the case, I offered her what she needed, "Here you are, sister dear."

She snatched the sheet music from my hands, "I hope you didn't touch anything in my room."

"Don't worry. I only threw up on the bed."

Her smile was anything but amused, "Cute."

My answering smile was just as cold. I think I was beginning to like Rosalie.

Rosalie slunk back into her homeroom without a goodbye, which seemed to be a standard for her. The bell would ring soon, and if I didn't utilize this head start, I would never make it to first period on time. I turned, ready to head back to the main campus with the other plebs and lowerclassmen, when I was once again brought to a stop by the loveliest pair of warm, brown eyes.

The girl was there. At the end of the hall.

How did miss someone I didn't know? How could I look into the eyes of a stranger and feel the home I'd never had?

I wasn't sure if it was because absence made the heart go fonder or whatever, but she looked more beautiful than I remembered. Her long mahogany was hair tied back the way I liked it and she was wearing a light green sundress I hadn't seen yet. This one might be my new favorite.

When she realized I was staring back, her eyes widened, and she turned abruptly to walk in the opposite direction, as she always did. This time, two guys happened to be walking out of a room right as she turned. She crashed into a guy with a blonde, douchebag ponytail, spilling a bright red energy drink down the front of his white shirt and her pretty dress.

With both hands over her mouth, she quickly took two steps back, assessing the damage.

"What the hell?" the guy demanded, shaking off the access drink from his hands.

Panicking, she turned back around. When she saw me still standing there, her features morphed from guilt to dread. She froze, like a deer in headlights, not sure if she would rather face me or Douchebag Ponytail, looming behind her.

Taking advantage of her hesitation, Ponytail grabbed her upper arm and pulled her closer to him, "Hey, babygirl, I'm not mad." She tried to pry his hand from her arm, but he just gripped her harder.

"I know a way you can make it all better," he growled playfully. Then, to my horror, he dragged her back into the room he came from.

"Hey!" I yelled, rushing down the hallway and into the room, which turned out the be a back entrance to the gym, where the pool was located. When I arrived, the girl had kicked Douchebag Ponytail where it hurt and was starting to flee. Douchebag Ponytail hunched over in pain with his hands over his groin, yelling after her. His friend with dreadlocks snatched her before she could get too far and passed her back to Ponytail.

"Hey!" I yelled again.

Dreadlocks tried to block my path, "Get outta here, man."

I shoved him out of the way to get to Ponytail, "Leave her alone!"

Ponytail scooped the girl up into his arms, "Calm down, buddy. We're just going for a swim. The two of us are going to get all cleaned up. Aren't we, babygirl?"

She shook her head emphatically.

"You're fine," he teased the girl, "If you want us to leave you alone, just say so." The two boys laughed.

Although she was obviously terrified of the approaching water, the girl said nothing. She put her hands on his chest and tried to shove him away, but it was a wasted effort. Though he wasn't that big of a guy, she was still tiny in his arms.

"Say something if you don't want to go for a swim!" he mocked.

"Stop!" It sounded more like a plead than a command.

I ran at them as he swung her back, preparing to toss her into the pool. The intention was to take her from his arms, but instead, he threw her into me, causing the three of us the drop to the floor. Unfortunately, the floor for me was dangerously close to the water, and I fell backward into the pool. When I resurfaced, Ponytail was on his ass, cursing out at Dreadlocks for laughing at him. The girl was gone.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Coach Clapp yelled from his office, rushing towards the scene. The two assholes hauled out of there at the sound of the teacher's voice. By the time I pulled myself from the water, they were long gone as well.

"You that desperate for a Swim, Cullen?" the coach demanded.

"There were two guys—," I started.

"I saw them," Coach Clapp interrupted, "I know where they're going. Take a seat," He pointed to the bleachers, "I'll round them up."

Reluctantly, I sat where he pointed. With my head in my hands, I wondered after the girl. Once again, she was gone without a trace, but hopefully, she was safe, wherever she was. As I moped, a towel was draped gingerly across my shoulders. I looked up, expecting a teacher or Jessica or Angela, and was amazed to see the girl.

"Thank you."

She smiled shyly. It was magical, surreal. Then again, every moment with her felt like a dream.

"I hope that was alright for me to do back there… It just seemed like you were in trouble and needed help. Not that you need a man to swoop in and save you all the time. Because girls can handle themselves too. Wonder Woman and all that. You know. Feminism." I was rambling. "Sorry. Ignore me. Are you alright?" That was what was more important, anyway.

Instead of responding, she turned to walk away. Which was fair—her proximity always turned me into a babbling idiot.

However, I couldn't let her. Not again. Without thinking, I grabbed her hand and pulled her back to me—her skin was as cold as I remembered. I squeezed her hand a bit tighter and regretted it immediately. She yanked it from my grasp and turned to me with incredulous eyes.

"I'm sorry! It's just, I—I," I didn't even have a reasonable excuse. I was simply obsessed with her, and I certainly couldn't admit that right to her. I'd terrify her more than I already did, "I think I could really like you. I like your truck. I like your books. I really like your pretty sundresses. So please, would allow me to get to know you?"

She bit her lower lip in that heartbreakingly adorable way, looking around for a moment or two dispiritingly. Her little shoulders slumped when she did not see what she was looking around for. With a little sign, she rotated her pointer fingers around each other. Then, she closed one hand into a fist and lightly tapped her fingers to her lips.

Sign language.

"Oh." My mouth popped open as all of her past behavior suddenly made sense. She was deaf. And I was over here babbling like an idiot. "I see."

I was barely able to catch her beautiful features fall in shame before she hurried away.

Desperate for a way I could offer reassurance, I stood. I didn't want to touch her again, and I obviously couldn't call after her. Even if I knew her name, she wouldn't be able to hear me. I was about to chase after her, but an older man with a stern eye and a no-nonsense scowl had marched into the room.

"Take a seat, Cullen," Principal Greene commanded.

The girl slipped around him out the door and was gone.

My heart felt emptier.

Unable to chase after the girl, I complied. Coach Clapp followed in after him, pulling the boys from before along with him. The boys took their seats beside me on the bleachers while the Principal looked the three us of over with disgust. "James Hunter and Laurent Cote. I'm not surprised to see you two behind the trouble. Are you bothering Mr. Cullen, here?"

"We were messing around, Mr. Greene," Ponytail lied, "We weren't trying to hurt anyone!"

"It looked like you were harassing that girl." I retorted.

Ponytail held up his hands, "Merely flirting, my guy."

Mr. Greene didn't look amused, "The school pool is not for play; it is for exercise. I do not wish to see anymore horseplay around the pool or any unsupervised swims. Do you boys understand that?"

"Yes," I said awkwardly aloud while the other two guys silently nodded.

"Very good. I don't see the need for punishment for a first offense, but if it happens again, you will get detention. And James?"

"Yes, Mr. Greene?" Ponytail asked.

"Find a different technique if you wish to woo a young lady."

"Yes, Mr. Greene."

We were dismissed with a warning each. A sick feeling in my gut told me this would not be the end of it.

oOo

Every weekday night, the Cullen family sat together for dinner together. Their absurd dining room was designed to seat about twenty people, so for dinner, we sat around the second, secret table that was not fit for guests in their eat-in kitchen. And every night, Esme would cook a spread out of a dietician's dream journal. The appropriate amount of protein, veg, and carbs adjusted for each family member, so Emmett got extra protein and Alice got no dairy and Carlisle got double veg. Over a month with this family and I still had no idea how she did it.

"How was school today, everyone?" Esme asked, as she did every night, per the Perfect Mother Guidebook.

"Business school kinda sucks," Alice grumbled, "I had tests in statistics and macro econ, and had another presentation in communications."

"Maybe it's because you're taking nineteen credit hours when you only have to take twelve," Emmett commented with a smile.

Alice stuck a tiny tongue out at him.

"Alice, we love that you push yourself. Just remember, there's no shame in dropping a course if it gets to be too much," Carlisle reminded his daughter, using his stern-but-loving fatherly voice.

"I had to drop two courses one semester, and I still graduated on time with honors," Esme added.

There was a moment or two of silence as we waited for the next person to contribute something.

"I painted a sick robot today," Jasper stated with a mouthful of chicken.

"That's wonderful!" Esme smiled, "Do you have a picture?"

Still chewing, Jasper pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and reached across the table to hand it to Esme.

"It's amazing!"

Alice peeked over her mother's shoulder to look at the picture. "Ugh, that's so fun," she practically whined, "I should have gone to design school."

Esme mussed Alice's hair, "There's still time for that. You chose the practical option, first."

"Fuck practicality…"

"Language," Carlisle and Esme warned at the same time.

"And I…" Emmett tapped the table with his knife and fork, creating his very own drumroll, "…failed my math quiz!"

Esme let out a disappointed tsk, "Oh, Emmett, I'm so sorry. You were working so hard with that tutor!" she turned to Carlisle, "Maybe we should call the tutor; we pay him so much, Emmett should be able to do rocket science by now."

"Mom!" Emmett whined, "It's not the tutor's fault I suck at math. I might just have to go to him more."

Esme pursed her lips, "Okay, baby, if you want. Just tell me what we owe him for the extra hours."

"I aced my math quiz," Rosalie bragged.

Emmett shoved her playfully, "Show-off."

"Monkey-man."

"Edward?" Esme pressed, "School?"

I shrugged, "Same old, same old."

"Actually," Rosalie grinned, "Edward got pushed into the pool today."

Esme gasped, "Edward!" Then, to her husband, "I was promised that school would be safe for him, Carlisle."

Carlisle was typing on his phone, "Already texting the principal, honey."

"No, stop!" My new parents looked at me desperately, "No one was attacking me. They were trying to push someone else in the pool, and I got pushed in by mistake when I tried to help."

"Who?" Esme demanded. Carlisle was still texting.

"I—I don't know," I admitted.

"Isabella Swan," Rosalie informed the table.

It felt like Rosalie had offered me a full steak dinner after weeks of starvation, "You know her?"

Rosalie nodded, "She's in all of my AP courses."

A senior. A brilliant senior. That was why I barely saw her; she attended her classes in the North Campus with Rosalie.

"Why would someone push this girl into the pool, Rosie?" Esme asked.

"Girl's a loner and a loser," Rose shrugged, "It's bound to happen."

"That's so sad," Esme pouted, "Good for you for sticking up for her, Edward. That was very kind of you."

"He only did it because he thinks she's pretty," Rosalie mocked. "Right, Edward?"

"I don't want to talk about her with you, Rose." If she was going to call that sweet girl a loner and a loser for being deaf, I didn't want to hear what else Rosalie had to say about her.

Rosalie smiled only grew wider at that, "I knew it. All the boys fell for that girl when she started this year. It took less than a month before they realized she wasn't worth the effort."

Wasn't worth the effort? How could anyone look at that girl's sweet, shy smile and not immediately want to move every mountain, cross every sea, fight anything and everything in their way just to see it again? I didn't believe her.

Emmett burst out into his ridiculous guffaw and flicked my earlobe, "Damn Eddie, look how pink your ears are! You got it bad for this girl."

"Aw, Edward, that's so cute!" Alice clasped her hands over her heart, "You could be like her knight in shining armor."

"Kids, leave your brother alone," Carlisle warned.

Esme allowed me to finish my meal in silence, by asking her other kids questions. Occasionally, I felt her eyes flicker to me. I could only imagine what she was thinking—her poor, sad, little orphan. Getting pushed into pools by bullies and falling for impossible girls. It made me want to hide under the table with my appropriately portioned chicken tenders and never return.

Back in my room late that night, I put on some wordless piano pieces on my record player, wanting to focus on my own thoughts and not the words of another, for once. As it always, constantly did, my mind wandered back to the girl, or Isabella Swan, as I had learned from Rosalie.

Isabella—beautiful.

It was a fitting name. I didn't know how I didn't guess it, she was nothing but beautiful.

Well, she was something other than beautiful. She was also deaf. Our first conversation made a bit more sense. I could have sworn she was smiling at me, but I had just been fawning over how easily I could read her face while she read. She could have easily been smiling at her book. Then, the stranger who spilled water all over her desk suddenly trapped her and forced her into an introduction she wouldn't have the rest of the context for. I was such an idiot. Of course I frightened her, I probably seemed every bit of a predator as the douchebags who mocked her silence and threatened her.

But she smiled at me. She brought me a towel. Went so far as to lay it over my shoulders herself.

And then I ruined it.

Oh, I see, I had said, bringing her shame.

I should have immediately worked to help her communicate with me. Proved to her that it didn't matter how she talked to me, just show her I was so entirely thrilled that she was willing to say something to me at all.

Because it didn't matter. Not even in the slightest. I was more than willing to work for this girl, now I just had to work for her in an unexpected way.

A light knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts, "Edward?"

"Yes, mom?"

Esme cracked open the door just enough that I could see her face, "I'm taking Emmett to the bookstore after his classes tomorrow, is there anything you need for school?"

"No—," I started, but then an idea struck me, "Yes. Could you please get me a book on sign language?"

Wasn't worth the effort, my ass.