The next morning I woke up feeling disoriented. The light was different: Sacramento mornings were beautifully rosy, but here the light was of the softest gray, muffled by clouds. I couldn't remember whose home or bed I was in, and I started to panic. Wasn't this what the sex-ed lady was a first sign of getting date-raped? Waking up in a strange room with no memory of how you got there? But then I saw a picture of me and Uncle Chris when I was a baby on the clothes dresser, and I relaxed. I was in Forks, Washington, with Uncle Chris, and it was Sunday.

I stood up and stretched, then realized that I was still in my sweatpants and tank top from yesterday, and my hair was still in pigtails, mussed and tangled from sleep. I felt sticky and sweaty, and my hair was greasy. A shower was definitely at the top of my list. But as I was just thinking about having to dig through my suitcase for cosmetics bag, my stomach growled. Loudly.

I realized that my eating schedule was all off because my dinner last night was at about six at night and at home, Mom made dinner whenever she felt up for it, which most of the time was around nine.

So I found my fuzzy slipper socks, put them on, and then walked downstairs to the kitchen. I could see Uncle Chris at the table, reading a paper. I guessed that the morning trip to Starbucks had already happened, since there was an English muffin with jam next to him and a coffee cup in his hand.

"Morning, sunshine," he said, not looking up.

"Good morning to you too," I replied, walking up to stand behind him. He wrapped his arm around my middle and looked up at me.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked conversationally.

"Oddly, I slept very well."

"I'm not surprised. You were about to have your face exfoliated by that pasta last night, you were so tired. Why do you say it's odd?"

"I can never sleep after a flight, no matter how tired I am. I keep waking up, thinking it was the morning of the flight and that I missed my plane or forgot to put on pants or something," I answered, pulling away from his arm. I began to walk around the kitchen, observing everything. Chris was a writer, and he worked as a freelance journalist for several local newspapers and magazines. His more recent and more important articles were tacked up on the refrigerator, as well as several pictures of me. Most were my yearbook pictures from back home in Sacramento, the most recent being freshman year. I would be finishing sophomore year at Forks High. Tomorrow was the beginning of the second semester.

"I prepared for your arrival; there's all kinds of food here. There's Cinnamon Toast Crunch and plain Cheerios in the cabinet, PopTarts, muffins, milk, juice, everything. Help yourself; Lord knows I won't eat it." He snorted.

I opened the pantry, and there it all was, just like he said. Big boxes of my favorite cereals were propped up on the shelves, along with brown sugar-cinnamon and strawberry PopTarts. There was even a tiny bag of sugar for my Cheerios.

After two bowls of cereal and a muffin, I put away my dishes in the dishwasher and started upstairs.

"Hey, Maggie, let me know if you need to go to CVS or Walgreen's for shampoo or something." Uncle Chris didn't look up again as he asked this, and I wondered if there was a hidden meaning behind his question, like he was more worried about the 'something' part. The 'something' that all girls needed at some point in their lives.

"Um…okay, I will." I made a mental note to start scrounging the classifieds for used cars and to get my license here.

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. I took my shower and then painstakingly blow-dried and flatironed my hair. Call me vain or stuck-up, but I wanted to make a good impression tomorrow at school.

My mom had shipped most of my clothes and shoes and books from Sacramento. The rest of the day was spent unpacking all of it and getting settled in. Most of the clothes smelled musty and were hopelessly wrinkled, so I managed to start a load of laundry with the outfits I thought I would wear for the rest of the week. The 'first-day' outfit I fussed over with clothes from my suitcase. I finally settled on something I wore at home a lot when I wanted to feel confident: my favorite black dress with ruffles, a long-sleeved, fitted teal-blue tee, and a pair of black boots.

Then came the moment of the day that I dreaded: what I called 'first-day-panic'. I soon became obsessed with making sure every detail for tomorrow was perfect. Was my binder ready? Did it have pens/pencils/paper in it? Do I have money in my wallet for lunch? Was my bag ready? Did it have lipgloss/wallet/keys/cellphone in it?

It went on and on and on. Finally, at about five, Chris went out mysteriously and came back about twenty minutes later with my favorite pizza and a movie. The pizza was divided into half cheese and half pepperoni. He said it was for celebration. I enjoyed the first slice, but from then on it tasted like cardboard, my stomach turning in increasingly more and more tangled knots. The movie, he said, was for him and his buddies tomorrow, since one was having a birthday and he was going over to his place.

I went upstairs and got ready for bed, even though at only six it was far too early to got to sleep. I was too jittery to do anything else. I distracted myself for about an hour on my laptop, looking at bedding stores for room décor. My room needed some sprucing up, big-time, and I fantasized about the most ludicrous of the sets in my room.

That only lasted an hour, however, and soon I was yanking the portable DVD player out of one of my boxes and letting myself fall into one of my guilty pleasures: The Lord of the Rings movies.

I managed to watch all of The Fellowship of the Ring before I looked over at my clock and noticed with relief that it was 10:30 and I could reasonably go to bed now.

I told Uncle Chris goodnight and climbed into bed, hoping (or more like praying) that my first day at Forks High went well.


A/N: Aha! So we learn her name is Maggie. Congrats to luneressa, who will be featured in the next chapter because she got the answer to my question in the last chapter right. And she was the first person to answer it too.

We'll learn more about the mysterious Maggie probably next chapter. I do have a general idea for where this is going, but so far I'm kind of letting it go where it may. This is techically AU, since Renesmee never happened. Not that I have hate her or anything; I like Nessie. Bella is a vampire, and she has shield powers and amazing self-control, but no Nessie. Jake... I don't know what's happened to Jake. Let's say he imprinted and is living happily at La Push.

I hope what I have put in here about Maggie's mother is clear. And if anyone was confused about her grade and age, she's sixteen and she's a sophomore. It's winter break and she's starting Forks High soon.

To end this long-a** a/n, I can only say Happy Holidays and REVIEW!