This just came to me while I was watching The Book Thief. I don't know why I thought of it, but I somehow managed to link it to this story. I hope you enjoy it.
Edward sighed as he tried and failed to work out the word in front of him. He was over a century old; it shouldn't be hard, and yet he still found it hard to read some words, especially ones he hadn't seen or heard before. This hadn't happened in a very long time, and it wasn't the same as before. Before, it was just Carlisle, or sometimes Esme, in the house, and he wasn't ashamed to ask them.
But now, his wife, adult daughter, his son-in-law and all four of his siblings were in the house. They would all hear him if he asked, but he didn't know the next time he and his parents would be alone. It would look suspicious if he dragged one of them out of the house, if only for a couple of minutes.
Reaching out with his talent, he found his daughter watching her husband and uncle wrestle in the back garden. His wife and sisters were all laughing in the front room, sometimes watching the match outside through the large windows. Jasper, Esme and Carlisle were silently reading in their father's study, while Edward read in his room.
Biting back his nerves and panic, he decides it might not be that bad if his family know that he finds it extremely hard to read and write. Jasper at least would understand, Rosalie wouldn't care, Alice would try to teach him, Emmett would tease him for a while then get bored, Jacob would probably tease him as well, and Bella and Nessie wouldn't change. Their view of him wouldn't change, either.
Rising from his seat on the sofa in his and Bella's room, he clutches the book to his chest before walking to Carlisle's office. Raising his hand, he waits and tries to slow his nervous breathing before knocking softly on the door. "Come in," His father calls, giving him courage.
"Carlisle?" He whispers, walking up to his father's desk. Esme hops down from where she sits facing her husband on the desk, and smiles at her son. Jasper looks over at him curiously as he shuts the door, and Carlisle pulls the ribbon between the pages he is reading in his book before closing it. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," His father smiles warmly, sitting back in his chair. Knowing Carlisle will understand, he simply holds out the book, pointing to the word. The blond nods in understanding, before saying, "Advantageous. It means creating better circumstances that make the chance of success bigger."
Edward nods, looking at his father for a moment before pointing to another word. "Endeavour," Carlisle tells him, "It means to try." Nodding, the younger vampire begins shaking as he extends his arms to point to another word. He knows this word is simple; he knows he should know it, and he knows that when Carlisle says it out loud that Jasper will know what he's been struggling with and that will make it ten times worse. "It's okay, son," Carlisle reassures him, rubbing his wrist gentlyy. "Scheme," He says quietly, and Edward's lips tremble as a stinging feeling irritates his eyes. This is humiliating, having to ask his father how to pronounce a simple word in front of his brother, especially when the entire family can hear. All conversation and noise had stopped in an effort to hear what was going on in the office.
"Oh honey," Esme sighs as a choking noise comes from the back of Edward's throat. She pulls him into a soft embrace, and he begins to cry quietly into the soft cotton covering her shoulder. Carlisle rubs his back consolingly and leads Edward to the chair in front of his desk. Esme sits on the arm of the chair while Carlisle kneels before his son, concern in his eyes. Jasper tries to concentrate on his book.
He tries.
"Why didn't you tell us you were struggling?" Esme inquires, brushing her son's hair out of his eyes. Edward just shakes his head, trying and failing to control his breathing.
"I'm so stupid," He finally whimpers, covering his face with his hands.
"No, Edward," Carlisle groans, exchanging a worried glance with his wife, Jasper long forgotten. "It's not your fault. I should have continued your lessons at home instead of just sending you to school."
"You were busy with Esme," Edward argues, sighing. "And then Rosalie, when she was changed, and then Emmett. I never wanted lessons around either of them in the first place. This is so humiliating."
"Alice couldn't remember any of her schooling," Esme reminds him soothingly. "It would have been fine with them, they would have understood if they knew. Like they did with her."
"Yeah, but she doesn't struggle anymore, does she?!" He exclaims, still not looking up. "She doesn't struggle anymore, and for God's sake I'm older than her and I remember my human life!"
"Some people learn faster than others," Carlisle murmurs. "And me abandoning your education certainly didn't help. I'm sorry for that."
Edward groans again, and Jasper attempts to calm him, but his brother can't be calmed as a new wave of humiliation hits him. "I can't believe my daughter knows I can't read."
"You can read," Carlisle says firmly, grabbing his son's wrists. "You just struggle, and that's not your fault. I'm surprised you managed to hide it."
"Well you were the only one who saw my grades."
"A C is nothing to be ashamed of."
"I barely passed."
Carlisle sighs. It was true. Edward was barely passing his English classes. But they needn't worry about that now; they had the entire summer ahead of them. "Let's go downstairs," Carlisle suggests. "If you want a lesson now it might be easier to concentrate; there's better lighting, and other people to help you."
"Okay," Edward concedes, and together they go and sit next to each other at the dining room table. With him, Carlisle has the book Edward was showing him, and the small journal that Edward used to use a dictionary. Edward smiles as he spots it.
"Carlisle!" They hear, and Edward looks down, knowing that the rest of his family would like to know what's happening.
"Would you mind if I told them?" Carlisle asks.
"They already know about my past."
The older man takes that as a yes, and walks into the front room, where the entire family, including Nessie and Jacob, are sitting. "You know of Edward's past," He begins, instead of waiting for them to ask him to explain. "His father never allowed him to go to school. After he was changed he couldn't read, write, and he didn't know the alphabet or numbers. I taught him, but we both neglected his studies after Esme was changed, and then Rosalie came along and he didn't want lessons around her. I suspect the only reason he is letting you know now is because you know of his past. So don't tease him." The last part is blatantly directed at Jacob and Emmett, who look down in slight shame, but not enough to be acceptable for what they were planning.
No one says anything, so Carlisle steps back into the dining room and sits down. "Where were we?" He smiles, and suddenly Jasper is standing in the doorway.
"Would you mind if I sat with you?" He asks Edward, and when his brother shakes his head he sits on Edward's other side.
"Right," Carlisle says, smiling as Edward shuffles his chair closer to look at the book. Throughout the years, his son's love of learning hasn't diminished. Jasper smiles as well. "Would you mind starting this book again?"
"No," Edward answers, shuffling closer still. "Vintage Grimm," He reads, looking at the front cover. "The complete fairy tales."
"Good," Carlisle praises. "Let's skip all the notes on the book and just go straight for the first tale."
Edward nods, opening the book at the right page. "One," Edward reads, and Jasper smiles. "The frog king, or iron He-Hey-in-"
"Heinrich," Carlisle corrects, watching as his son nods in understanding before continuing.
"Heinrich," Edward repeats. "In olden times, when wishing still helped, there lived a king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the yo-yon-youngest?" Carlisle nods, Edward grins uncontrollably, and Jasper shakes his head in amazement at the pride coming from his younger brother. "But the youngest was so beautiful that the sun itself, which had seen so many things, was always filled with amazement each time it cast its rays upon her face. Now, there was a great dark forest near the king's castle, and in this forest, beneath an old... lin-line-lineden-linden! tree, was a well..."
The lesson continued in much the same way, Carlisle and Jasper praising and correcting; the rest of the family listening in. After a minute or two Edward relaxes, knowing that even if his family know, it doesn't matter, as they understand. Or at least, they don't judge him. Not even Emmett and Jacob are thinking of teasing him.
"So how much can you read?" Emmett asks later, as everyone sits in the front room. Edward grimaces before answering. This is the first anyone has spoken of what was revealed ealier in the day. The others turn to him expectantly.
"It's hard to tell," He shrugs, leaning back in his chair. "I know how to say a lot of words, but I don't know how they're all spelt so when I see them in a book I'm not sure what word they are. But other times there are some words that I've never seen before, so I can't work them out. Like earlier today with advantageous."
Emmett laughs loudly, throwing his head back. "To be fair, I've never heard that word either... So how did Carlisle find out you couldn't read?"
"That was probably the most humiliating experience of my life," Edward admits, and yet he smiles slightly. "Carlisle didn't know, so when I had enough control he sent me to school. The teacher made me write my name on the blackboard. Of course all I could write was the three crosses you write if you can't write your name. The whole class laughed and Carlisle was called in."
"That had to be tough."
"It took all my new found restraint not to tear out their throats."
The room goes stiff at this piece of information, suddenly realising why Edward has so much control. His restraint was tested from day one.
"I still don't understand how you managed to hide it," Bella whispers, sitting next to her husband and leaning her head on his shoulder.
"Fancy handwriting," He replies, kissing the top of her head. "Only using words I knew the meaning of. Pretending to read. Avoiding writing at all costs; my spelling is atrocious. Only Carlisle sees how bad my grades are, anyway. Also, you'll notcie that any book that was read to Renesmee by me was for children below ten, and not over."
"I hated those books," Nessie recalls, wrinkling her nose. Edward laughs.
"I'm sorry sweetheart."
"That's okay," Renesmee smiles, sitting at her father's feet. "I get it now."
"Thank you," He replies, kissing the top of her head too. "Thank you."