February, 2009

"I'm worried about her. She seems to be having trouble making friends."

Ear pressed to her door, Renesmee frowned at her father's remark—not because he was wrong, but because she felt the red-hot prickle of embarrassment crawl up her throat.

Her parents were down the hall in the master suite of their two-story Anchorage home, murmuring in the dark as flurries of snow pattered against the windows.

Bella was pensive for a moment, and Renesmee expected her mother to come to her defense, even if what Edward had said was true; instead, Renesmee's heart clenched as Bella replied softly, "I know. She doesn't like school that much."

"I don't blame her," Edward said, and his daughter could hear the wry grin in his voice. "Already smarter than most college graduates, and she has to spend her weekdays relearning things she read about for fun as a baby."

Renesmee grimaced, a deeper shame painting her cheeks. She blinked away tears. Edward wasn't exaggerating too severely, since she started reading Jane Austen novels at four months and enjoyed the writings of Fyodor Dostoyevsky by six. Shortly after her first birthday she began taking a couple online classes from Harvard. And now, at two, she was, undoubtedly, the most seasoned and knowledgeable student in her seventh grade class.

Although she did not flaunt her intelligence or brag about her grades, everyone knew she was brighter than them. She often forgot to hide the boredom in her face during classes some found difficult, and easily passed pop quizzes that were meant to reflect on students' attention span.

In short, her peers found her intimidating, despite her best efforts to treat them with kindness and respect. Renesmee was a girl who genuinely liked most people and wanted to get to know as many humans as possible. And this was the first time in her life where they weren't drawn to her, and didn't find her captivating. She was, to put it simply, the weird girl who no one wanted to invite to sit with them at lunch, and who couldn't come out of her shell to save her life.

Renesmee used to take pride in being different, in being one of the first of her kind. Now she never felt more abnormal than when she was at school, because she couldn't truly be herself.

There was nothing more suffocating than having to hide almost every facet of who she was to protect her family.

Swallowing a lump, Renesmee crawled back into bed, not wanting to hear any more. She pulled her duvet over her head and only let a few tears fall silently.

Eventually she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, plagued by her lack of belonging.


"I don't want to go to school today, Momma."

Bella looked up from the stove, where she was scrambling eggs for Renesmee, who studied her hands rather than make eye contact. Bella's brow furrowed as she slid the eggs onto a plate and brought it over to the kitchen table.

"You heard us talking." It wasn't a question, nor an accusation, but Renesmee flushed pink regardless. Bella sighed and took the seat next to her, chin in her hand. "We thought you were asleep."

"I shouldn't have listened," Renesmee mumbled, poking at her eggs. "I'm sorry."

"No." Bella shook her head, quick to reassure. "Don't be sorry. What did you hear us say?"

Renesmee sniffled around a bite, only eating to be polite now that her appetite was gone. "That I have no friends and dislike school," she summarized, a tad bitterly. Not at her parents, but herself, for being so…whatever this feeling was.

A sad look passed over Bella's pristine face, and she put her cold hand over Renesmee's warm one. "Honey. Please know we weren't trying to criticize you."

Renesmee knew that, but peered at her mother anxiously anyway. Bella continued gently, "And we aren't mad at you. Okay? If you're having a hard time, you don't have to go. We know you've been trying to make friends. I'm not saying you should give up, but—" She bit her lip thoughtfully, a human habit she'd never lose. "It's alright if middle school isn't for you."

Renesmee put her fork down, blinking rapidly to quell her tears. There was a tightness in her chest that strained against her ribs, an uncomfortable pressure that desperately wanted out.

"I wish I was normal," she sputtered, pulling her hand away. Her chair knocked to the floor in her haste to leave, her gangly adolescent legs carrying her up the stairs. Tears spilled down her cheeks as her mother called for her, but her door slammed before Bella could say anything else.

Sobbing, Renesmee grabbed her favorite baby blanket from the foot of her bed and went to sit in her closet. She pressed the well-loved fabric to her streaming eyes, choking miserably into the rest of the blanket.

Outside her door, Bella sat cross-legged with her face in her hands and listened to her daughter weep.


Some time passed until Renesmee dozed off, tired from her outburst. She awoke to a soft knock on her closet door, clutching the blanket the way she did as a fussy infant. Her head ached from crying, and there was a soreness in her neck.

"Nessie?" Jacob's voice asked, and for once she wasn't comforted by it.

"Go away," she grumbled, wanting to go back to sleep. She turned toward the wall, toeing off her shoes. It was rather comfy in here. All she needed was a pillow.

"Nessie," Jacob said again, a little firmer now, an unusual way for him to speak to her. "Hey. C'mon out."

A frustrated grunt escaped her lips, and she kicked open the closet door, almost hitting him. "No. You come in."

He didn't hesitate to crawl in, ducking his head so as not to bump the shelf above it. The closet wasn't big enough to fit all of him, so his legs partially stretched outside it, meaning the doors couldn't provide the necessary comfort and privacy she was enjoying. Renesmee sighed, resigned to this new development.

It was quiet for a minute, then Jacob broached carefully, "Your mom told me what happened."

She lifted a shoulder noncommittally in response. She could feel his concerned gaze on her tear-streaked face, and wished he wouldn't look at her so pityingly.

"Nobody likes me," she mumbled into her blanket, keeping her sleepy eyes closed.

"I like you," Jacob reminded her unnecessarily.

"Besides you," she corrected, irritated. Dissatisfied by using her voice, she held out her hand, and he took it. She showed him a few memories from school, the ones where she felt the most lonely. It made that feeling in her chest stir all over again, and embarrassment colored her mind in shades of rusty-brown and dull red.

Then she shared her conversation with Bella this morning, so he could fully grasp how she was feeling. Once she had gotten her point across, she cuddled up under her blanket again.

Jacob had the same look on his face her mother did earlier: doleful, apprehensive. "I'm sorry kids aren't being nice. It's their loss, though. They're missing out on the most special person in the world by not accepting you."

Renesmee rolled her eyes. She'd been told she was special enough to last her a lifetime.

And in this moment, she did not feel special.

"And for the record, you are normal," Jacob went on, Bella having repeated Renesmee's dramatic declaration. "You are your version of normal. And if nobody wants to see that, or be friends with someone like you—like I said, their loss."

"I only have me," Renesmee said slowly, picking the words carefully. "Nahuel isn't here."

Jacob nodded, understanding what she meant. She was the only hybrid in the family; nobody else could relate to her or give her advice on fitting in, even if the Cullens' whole lifestyle was about blending in to society. Nahuel, however, could shed a little light on his experiences.

He must have had it even worse, being the first and only of their kind until he discovered his sisters, and then her. Renesmee regretted not asking to speak to him when they met. Granted, the circumstances weren't too fitting for a formal conversation, but his perspective would have given her peace of mind, too.

"You should write to him," Jacob was suggesting, pulling her from her thoughts. She lifted her head for clarification. "Yeah. Write him a letter or something. Or maybe Carlisle can take you down to see him."

A flicker of hope ignited in the center of Renesmee's chest, where the pressure resided. It receded a bit, and she could breathe again. "Maybe," she whispered, already imagining it.

Jacob grinned and bumped her knee with his hand. "See? You're okay. There's always someone who'll get it."

She climbed onto his lap like she did when she was smaller, bringing her blanket with her. His wolfy Jacob scent soothed her and she rested her head on his broad shoulder.

"But no matter what," Jacob said, squeezing her in his brotherly way. "I'll always be your friend, wherever we go."


That night, Carlisle came by per Renesmee's request, and the two sat by the fireplace, a cup of cocoa in her hands as he told her what he knew about Nahuel and how she could reach him.

"Can we go see him?" she asked hopefully. "After I write to him, I mean."

"If that's alright with him and his aunt," her grandfather agreed. "See if they'd be open to a visit, or invite them to come here. I'm sure you'd love to show him around."

While Renesmee's true home was in Forks, she had grown to love Anchorage, and felt excited at the thought of being a tour guide for the other hybrid.

She spent a solid hour drafting her letter, the paper illuminated by her desk light. She didn't sense someone was behind her until they knocked on the frame of her door, alerting her.

Dad, she thought, turning to smile at him. He saw and felt the warmth that entered her thoughts, the peach and yellow colors that depicted her love for him and happiness to see him. Edward crossed the room and bent to kiss the crown of her head.

"Hi, my dear," he said, sitting at the edge of her bed. He gestured for her to join him, and she did so gladly.

Renesmee had an indescribable bond with her mother, but she was a daddy's girl, too.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked, his arm around her.

She pondered the question for a moment. She was now; her talk with Jacob and Carlisle made her feel better. She didn't feel so glaringly different while writing her letter to Nahuel. She told Edward about her day and what Carlisle had said about a trip to South America to see Nahuel.

Edward nodded. "I think that's a great idea. Your momma and I talked about that not too long ago, actually. We could learn a lot about you from him."

Renesmee snuggled closer to her dad. I'm sorry I was eavesdropping, she thought, guilt panging in her heart again.

Edward laughed softly. "It's alright," he soothed. "I'm sorry you had to hear us talking about you. We were going to sit down with you after school today and have a family discussion. We wanted to know if you want to leave school."

Renesmee shrugged uncertainly. She liked her teachers and the routine she'd developed over the past few months since the school year started. That, at least, brought a sense of human normalcy to her life she'd been missing. But she wasn't sure if it was worth it to stay if everyone sensed she wasn't like them. Making friends as a teen is hard enough—being part vampire was dampening her plans even further, and she hadn't realized how disheartened she was about it until she knew her mom and dad had noticed.

"I don't know," she ultimately confessed aloud, feeling small.

"That's alright," Edward calmed, kissing her hair again. "Think about it. You don't have to make a decision yet. Your mother called your school today and said you weren't feeling well. But if you want to go tomorrow, you can."

Maybe, she replied with a yawn. It was past her bedtime, but Bella hadn't been too concerned about letting her stay up late if it meant she could write her letter and take her mind off school.

Edward sat with her while she finished her message to Nahuel, then laid with her when she crawled into bed. He hummed her lullaby, scratching circles on her back til her breathing slowed and her body melted peacefully against her mattress.

When Bella came up to check on them, she was relieved at how relaxed their daughter looked under her covers, finally able to rest now that her mind had been put at ease.

Does she want to go to school tomorrow? Bella wondered, lowering her shield to ask.

"We'll see," Edward whispered, loud enough for her to hear but not to wake Renesmee.

Bella stooped to kiss her forehead, tucking the sheets in around her. One day at a time.