"Bella, can I watch TV?"

"Mother, may I take Bella to the park?"

I looked up from the dishes and smiled. Bobby, my charge for the day, stood waiting in the kitchen with me. He fingered the inhaler in his pocket nervously. Bobby was a shy little boy, the son of Renee's new friend Pam, and my first babysitting job in Phoenix.

"Of course you can, buddy. The remote's on the coffee table."

I listened until I heard the television and turned back to the sink.

Babysitting was a quick way for me to earn extra cash. I made a point to avoid newborns and toddlers, though, in case time travel got in the way.

Christmas was coming up fast and I really needed the money. Babysitting didn't pay too much, but Renee always appreciated the thoughtful over the expensive.

After Bobby's parents came home, I took the bus to a record store I found online. Most of our CDs were destroyed in the move. I moved through my tasks swiftly, but my mind was elsewhere.

Stregoni benefici.

The words darted through my mind again. I had never heard them before I went to Devils Lake. But strange as they were, they were important, and the key to learning what the Cullens really were.

When I returned to Phoenix, I immediately set to work. Rather than focus my research on the Cullens themselves, I threw myself into learning the meaning of stregoni benefici. It was harder than I thought. The phrase was not English; I misspelled it more times than I could count. I pored through Spanish, Latin, and Italian dictionaries, but found nothing. I was forced to admit that perhaps the words did not exist at all.

Maybe Emmett had lied.

Or I was making a huge deal out of nothing.

Dejected, I took the long way home. The sun had gone down already. I cut through the park and sat down on an old bench. The temperature was in the sixties, but not a lot of people were out walking. The couple that strolled past my bench were the first passerby I'd seen in an hour.

The man fumbled with his jacket. It reminded me of Bobby. Suddenly he was sinking to one knee, his eyes turned hopefully toward his girlfriend. His lips moved, but I couldn't hear the words.

Something about it made me bolt for home. I ran as fast as I could. I threw my CDs in the closet and braced for the sound of cracking. There was none. I stomped into the kitchen and threw my wallet down.

There was a note waiting for me. Phil and my mom had gone to dinner over two hours ago. They left me money to order out. I left it untouched and plopped down on the couch.

The phone rang while I channel surfed for something mindless. I ignored the ringing and settled on a horror movie. Anything to distract me from the ugly, uncomfortable loneliness.

It was old school horror. I watched a young woman, faint with terror, fall into the arms of an older man. The castle around them was ancient and crumbling. The lightning flashed. The older man's smile grew wicked. With the remote tight in my hand, I watched his lips part to reveal a set of fangs. He smoothed a hand across her neck and sank his into her throat. When he drew away, the blood was dark against his white skin.

I drew the blanket around me, shivering. I was transfixed. The old man closed her dead eyes and laid her gently on a slab.

His hands must have been cold on her skin. Ice cold.

For the second time that evening, I bolted. Our laptop was sitting on my desk. Panting, I typed in stregoni benefici and one other word: vampire.

The search engine took me to Vampires A-Z. I carried the laptop back to the couch and made myself comfortable.

Stregoni benefici: an Italian vampire said to be on the side of goodness, and an enemy of all evil vampires.

There was a difference, then. Good and evil. That changed things.

Vampires are the powerful undead. They possess extraordinary beauty, strength, and speed. No blood runs through their veins; their skin is cold and devoid of color. Their eyes may be black, red, or most rarely, gold. Dietary preference applies.

The Cullens were beautiful; that needed no explanation. I had not seen a demonstration of strength, but speed . . . Edward had been awfully quick with my plate. How fast could a vampire move?

I remembered Esme taking my arm in Rochester. Her skin, even through the gloves, was freezing. All four—well, five now—were whiter than snow. And the eyes . . . black one day, gold the next, and perhaps most disturbingly, red.

And what of their aging? Even without my research, I had testimony from Edward himself.

"We don't age."

"Why not?"

"The transformation prevents us from moving forward. We stay the same . . . forever."

There was simply no explanation—mythical, magical, or medical—that would explain why someone would look like a teenager and be actually be in their thirties. Other than being blessed with great genes, of course. But that was very unlikely.

I scanned the website again. It was silent on the subject of the sun. Didn't vampires sleep in coffins? How were the Cullens able to be awake in the daylight?

Dietary preference applies . . . well, what did that mean?

Aggravated, I closed the computer and shoved it aside. This was all so stupid.

The phone rang again. I sat listening until it stopped. Then a male voice spoke through the machine.

"Hey, Bella, it's Andrew. A couple of us are going to the movies tonight, if you're down. Call me back at my house, the number is five five five . . ."

I stopped listening. I was getting angry and I couldn't figure out why.

But I knew why. Instead of trying to fit in here and make friends, I was spending my night researching about vampires. Wasting valuable time.

Loser.

I pressed play and listened to the message again. It would be so easy. In twenty minutes, I could be on my way to the movies with kids from my school. That was normal.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that I was onto something. To the rest of the world, time travel and vampires were the stuff of fiction. If I could move through time, who was I to say that vampires were made up?

I really couldn't say that. Time travel was possible; I was living proof of it. Was it impossible to imagine the extraordinary, when I was a walking myth as well?

I went to the bathroom and stared into the mirror. There were circles under my eyes. My skin had unhealthy, pale pallor. I could be one of them right now.

I made myself say one word.

"Vampires."

I forced myself to repeat it, over and over, until I could say it without rolling my eyes or laughing. Was there really any other answer? Radioactive spiders and kryptonite were the only things that came to mind.

I did laugh at the kryptonite. But I knew I was right. Vampires, the most illogical explanation, actually made the most sense.

All I could do now was wait.

December 23, 2004

"Bella, you're wanted in the Main Office."

I gathered my things and ignored the knowing snickers around me. All of my classmates had been to the office at least once before; I supposed it was my turn. I wondered why they wanted from me on our last day before break.

While I waited to be seen, I perused my notes. North Dakota was now a past destination. I hypothesized that my next trip would be to a new location. A new year as well.

It should happen any day now, I assured myself. Any moment, really.

What would I do when I got there? Wave my research in their faces? Inspect their mouths for fangs? Startled at the thought, I touched my throat. Imagining them with fangs was horrible.

My blood on Edward's lips, his arm steadying me as I sink, lost in the haze of a faint; his fangs digging into my skin, tearing through—

"Bella?"

I followed the man into his office and shoved my notes into my backpack. I nearly had a heart attack the other day when half of them spilled out in the hallway. With the zipper secured, I relaxed.

"I'm Mr. Barton," he said with a warm smile. Mr. Barton was in his forties, with dark hair and a receding hairline. "I run the guidance department. How are you liking school, Isabella?"

I didn't correct him on my name; for some reason, I didn't trust him. "It's fine. I like it here."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Am I in trouble?" I asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, of course not," he shook his head. "This is merely a check-in. As an administration, we try to reach every student."

But you don't, I thought. I thought this school wasn't going to pester me. What was this really about, anyway? I asked him as much.

"When she registered you in school, your mother asked that we monitor your grades. You've seen so many curriculums; we don't want you to fall behind."

"I'm haven't."

"I'm sorry, but you have," he said gently. "This is your last history exam."

I didn't need to see the grade to know I failed. There was more red ink on the paper than black. I pushed it back across the desk, frowning. I knew I studied for that test.

"I don't understand."

Mr. Barton folded his arms. "Frankly, neither do we. Until now, your grades have been excellent. In these past two weeks, I've received bad reports from every one of your teachers."

I could feel the tears in my eyes. I remembered now; though I studied for those exams, I had trouble focusing during them. My mind was constantly in the past, dwelling on the mysterious Cullen family. Instead of memorizing the major Civil War battles, I was imagining my next trip away.

"This is not an interrogation," he told me, then pushed a box of tissues in my direction. "I don't want to ruin your Christmas. I merely want you to know that my door is open. If anything is going on with you, I want to help."

But you can't!

How could he help me? Could he stop my travels through time? Erase the Cullens from my brain?

The last bell of the day interrupted my thoughts. I stood up, clutching my backpack in stiff fingers.

"Thank you, Mr. Barton. I'll think about it."

I held off crying until I reached the privacy of the restroom. This had been building up for a long time. Everything seemed to come pouring out of me: my fears, the loneliness, and the depression I decided to ignore. My hands shook as I reached for a paper towel, dabbing my eyes.

The door opened. I turned away from it, busying myself with my backpack. I was still sniffling.

"Hey, Bella. You okay?"

It was Grace. She was wearing her volleyball uniform already, a gym bag slung over her shoulder. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

She squeezed my shoulder on her way out. "I live across the street from Bobby. If you ever want to talk, I'll be around."

Grace matched my watery smile and left, her Merry Christmas floating in the air.

In only a few minutes, I had two offers to talk. Two people who didn't know me at all. For them I was more than grateful. I had my mom and Phil as well, people who knew me better. I was grateful the most for the two of them, those who fed and sheltered me, and cared when I went away.

But the people I wanted to talk to were years away from me. They were possibly dangerous.

I was left with one alternative, and perhaps the most faithful of them all.

But surprisingly, Charlie wasn't available.

"He's on a detail, but I can take a message if you like."

I sighed. "Just tell him I called, okay?"

"Of course."

When I hung up the phone, I realized how much I missed my dad. I missed him today, when I needed his support, but more than that: I had been missing him a lot lately. The confusion of these past few weeks would have been silenced by his endless patience. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and I suddenly wished I was there with him.

I went to bed early that night, dreaming of Forks.

A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, and I'm glad you enjoyed Emmett's introduction! Next week's chapter will move things along. Stay tuned . . .

LittleMoCullen, thank you very much for your weekend wishes!

And a Guest reviewer commented that my story seems like a spin on The Time Traveler's Wife. I'm glad you pointed this out! Several stories have influenced mine, including The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffengger, Homer's The Odyssey, and The Rose Garden by Susanna Kearsley.

Thanks again, and see you all next Wednesday!