"You talk in your sleep."

I jerked awake. I recognized the voice, but not where I was. The pinecone Christmas ornament I made in kindergarten was absent. Even our beat up old Santa star was missing. The weirdest addition was the fireplace. I didn't understand why we bought a house with a fireplace in Phoenix, of all places. Everything was wrong.

Then my eyes fell on Rosalie, and it all came rushing back.

"Yeah," I said groggily. "I've always done that."

"It's very amusing."

"I'm sure."

She smiled again. "I made breakfast for you, if you're hungry."

"Thank you."

Rosalie read a magazine while I ate. If she was bothered by my staring, she didn't react. There was an air of friendliness between us that I did not expect. Compared to our first meeting, today was positively chipper.

I wondered why.

"So . . . where is everyone?"

Rosalie closed the magazine and tucked it under the mail. Everything about her was neat. Hair, makeup, clothes . . . even her manners. Not a hair or hem was out of place. I touched my own hair enviously. It looked terrible, I was sure.

"Church," she said. It was so incongruous to my idea of vampires that I burst out laughing.

"What?"

"It's just so . . . not what I pictured you guys doing."

"Us? Like vampires?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Can you even go inside the building? Would you burst into flames?"

"Of course we can!" she exclaimed. "That holy places nonsense was all the delusion of Bram Stoker. Dracula is nothing but silliness."

"Dracula, silliness? It's an American classic!"

Rosalie sniffed. "It's not even American, Stoker was Irish."

"Oh, right!"

We laughed together. I found that I really enjoyed her company. New York was a rather rocky start, but she had been nothing but nice to me since then.

"Thank you, again, for last night."

"Of course, Bella. I feel a special responsibility toward you. We all do."

"Really?" I said, mystified. "Why?"

After a moment of hesitation, Rosalie sat beside me on the couch. Her beauty was indescribable. The only flaw was a tiny worry line between her eyebrows.

"I—we—are very curious about your condition. It's nothing like we've ever seen before. And coming from vampires, that means a lot."

"I see."

Rosalie took my arm so fast I gasped. "But we like you, Bella. We want to keep you safe. More than your condition. You, as a person. It's not just about the time travel."

That touched me. "Thank you, Rosalie."

The worry line disappeared, and she beamed. "You're quite welcome. Now, let's get you dressed and I'll show you around town."

It was easier said than done. Her slips and dresses were lovely, but not at all suited for the weather. Being a vampire, she had no need to adhere to seasonal fashion; they were immune to goosebumps and colds and frostbite like the rest of us. When she told me we were in Maine, I almost died.

"Maine? It's got to be in the teens out there!"

"Oh, come on. We can layer."

She all but dragged me outside. I felt like Randy from A Christmas Story—I couldn't put my arms down. With my gloves and scarves and multiple layers, I thought I looked like a marshmallow. Rosalie looked like a goddess.

It was so unfair.

But to my surprise, our trip was fun. She bought me a steaming cup of a coffee to quiet my grumbles. I sipped it as we walked by the town hall and the shops. Everything was lit up for the holidays. A few churches having Christmas masses; we could hear the choirs from the sidewalk. It was a beautiful day. When properly prepared for it, cold weather wasn't so bad.

The burden of not knowing their secret was gone. They knew about me and I knew about them. For the first time in a long time, my walls were coming down.

It was funny to me. Now I had two secrets in my possession—time travel and the existence of vampires. I felt like I was somehow attracting the supernatural.

We ran into the rest of the Cullen clan on the way home. People were spilling out of the church, eager to get home to their hot Christmas dinners. A few children threw snowballs at each other, attracting Emmett's attention. Rosalie shook her head at once, and he sulked.

Edward met my eyes and burst out laughing. I scowled.

"What?"

"You look . . . " he couldn't finish. I stuck out my tongue. Oh yes, it was so funny they looked like models for J. Crew and I looked like a dork. So, so funny.

"Oh, that's mature."

"Some of us are f-freezing here." My teeth were beginning to chatter. "It can't be more than t-ten degrees."

"We should get you inside."

Rosalie took my free hand and led us back the way we came. The other Cullens followed in our wake, discussing the service. Esme was chiding Carlisle for disliking the minister. Apparently his interpretations of the passages were incorrect.

Emmett and Edward's conversation was much more entertaining.

"Did you see Mrs. Prescott falling asleep?"

"She was up all night not being a good Christian."

Emmett snickered. "Oh, tell me!"

Though I couldn't see his face, I could tell Edward was smirking. "Let's just say her neighbor played out an odd Santa Claus fantasy in the early hours of the morning."

"That is horrific!" Rosalie blurted out, pushing me in the front door. "Edward, you stay out of people's heads! Seeing things like that is going to warp your mind. More than it already is."

In an uncharacteristic gesture, he stuck his tongue out at her, then caught my eye. I laughed—it didn't seem like him to do that. But underneath that, I was anxious. What did they mean, staying out of people's heads?

Some of my confusion must have shown on my face. Rosalie explained while she began the lengthy unwrapping process.

"Some vampires have special abilities. Qualities from our human lives carried over in the change."

Carlisle was building a new fire, but he looked up to chime in.

"Edward was very empathetic as a human; he could read people easily. I believe this carried over into his life as a vampire. Reading emotions and faces became reading minds."

Though this conversation was all about him, Edward was silent. He picked up his new camera and resumed tinkering with it. But clearly he was listening, and waiting for my response.

Don't think about anything, Bella, block things out! Blah, blah, blah. Edward, can you hear this?

"Can you hear my thoughts?" The thought was more terrifying than freezing to death in Maine. I could feel the blush climbing on my face.

"No, I can't."

He sounded disappointed. But the Cullens were excellent actors. It seemed too good to be true.

"No way."

"Really, I can't," he insisted. "I've tried."

"Oh, have you?"

Rosalie pulled the last scarf from my neck. "I think it might have something to do with your time traveling. Maybe you move too fast for him to read you."

Haha! Score one for the human. Inwardly, I did a little happy dance. My thoughts were safe.

My feelings were safe, too.

The merriment aside, Rosalie's words seemed to awaken something in Carlisle. He disappeared into his study and closed the door behind him.

"What's with him?"

"Research," Edward shrugged, but his eyes were on the door. No doubt reading every thought that went through Carlisle's brilliant mind . . . every thought that was about me. Me and my condition.

Maybe he really would find the source of it. The cause of my traveling.

I never thought about why it happened. Most of my time was spent trying to survive. Discovering the source of the time travel was an extraordinary goal. But I was with extraordinary people now. Together . . . maybe we could learn something. I felt a smile growing on my lips.

A bright flash snapped me back to reality. Edward looked up from his camera and grinned.

I put my hand out expectantly. "My turn."

"What? I was testing the shutter."

"No, you took a picture," I said crossly. "Now it's my turn."

"It's my camera."

"It's my turn!"

"Oh my God, enough," Rosalie snapped, wrenching the camera from Edward's hands. "Stop being babies. Now stand together and I'll take the picture."

Grumbling, we stood up and moved together. Edward put one arm around my waist. I was instantly reminded of dancing with him the night before. My irritation disappeared at once.

"Edward Cullen is an excellent student but does not share in class," I whispered.

The picture still needed to be developed, but I could imagine it was lovely. It captured the both of us laughing. It was candid. Special.

Only minutes later I was hurtling back to my own time, the flash still burning behind my eyes.

The couch squeaked loudly under my weight. Our Christmas tree was a welcome sight. I sighed, brushing the hair out of my eyes. The clock above the television told me it was two o'clock in the morning.

I tiptoed upstairs. Renee and Phil were sleeping over the covers, still in everyday clothes. Phil had his phone clutched loosely in his hand. Expecting me to call.

Tears clouded my vision. My trips were becoming more frequent and for longer amounts of time. If I stayed for a certain time in the past, such as a day, my time in the present moved forward. If I stayed in the present, my time in the past moved forward, too. I was like a flower, bent in the wind. Jerked this way and that. No relief at all.

I rubbed my eyes and went down the hall. My gifts sat waiting to be wrapped. Sleeping right now was unfortunately out of the question. But I knew there were ways to occupy the time. I chuckled to myself, remembering the Cullen Christmas I witnessed. I didn't have a set of car keys in my pile, but I put thought into them, and that was all that mattered.

I wrapped Renee's CDs individually. Then I moved onto Phil's presents—a voucher for the nearby batting cages, and a gift card for school supplies. I distributed them evenly under the tree and waited. There were presents with my name on them, but I made myself sit on the couch. Renee would hate it if I opened my gifts early.

By the time they came down the stairs at seven, pancakes and fresh coffee were waiting for them. Lured by the sweet smells, they poked their heads in the kitchen curiously, then ran over to hug me.

"I thought you'd miss Christmas, baby," Renee said, her fingers combing through my hair. "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too, Mom."

We tore into the presents after breakfast. They loved their gifts, and my presents were wonderful. I received a ton of new clothes (which I always needed, as many were left in the past), as well as some money and gift cards. But the last gift was my favorite: a old but lovely edition of Jane Eyre.

"Where did you get this?" I gasped, smoothing my hand over the red cover. It was so fragile; I would have to take special care of it. Phil laughed.

"I found it on eBay. Don't ask how much it cost."

"I won't!"

"I know it's your favorite," Renee smiled, kissing my cheek. I beamed.

"Can I go call Dad and tell him?"

"Go ahead," she said, winking. "Tell him I say hello."

I picked up the cordless and ran upstairs in my excitement. Dad wasn't much of a reader, but I knew he hoarded some old baseball cards of some value. He'd understand the importance of this edition.

As I dialed, my eyes fell on Rosalie's dress. I had brought it back with me last night. The pale green seemed to shimmer against my bedspread.

I wondered how they were doing. How much time had passed in my absence. I traced the gold etchings on the cover of the book, thinking. There was another person who would delight in this find, and that person was Edward. He had been reading Jane Eyre in the cafe in New York. The same day I had my threadbare copy in my backpack.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Dad!" I said loudly. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Bells. How are you?"

"I actually got back this morning," I said, leaning back on my bed. My hair spread around me in a tangle; I twirled a strand around one finger. "Just in time for Christmas. Mom says hi."

"Oh, tell her I say hello. And Phil. Did they like their gifts? What did you get them?"

"Some CDs for Mom; ours were all cracked during the move. Stuff like that."

"What'd they get you?"

"Clothes and money. But the best gift was an edition of Jane Eyre."

"That one has to be your favorite, Bell. Do you like it?"

He sounded like he was smiling.

"Wait. Did you know about it?"

"I might have."

"Dad," I whined.

"All right, all right. The three of us split it. It's one of my gifts for you."

"Gifts, plural?"

"The other one is in the mail. It might get to you in a few days."

"I haven't gotten you anything yet, so that's okay."

He laughed. "Well, thank you. But you don't have to. These calls are enough. I love hearing from you, Bell. You know how I worry."

"I miss you." I didn't realize how much until I said it aloud.

"I miss you, too. Now go on and get back to your mother. We can talk later."

"Bye, Dad. I love you."

I laid there for a few minutes, letting the phone slip through my fingers. Jane Eyre was pressed to my chest. A gift from the three parents in my life. I loved them all for it.

In all honesty, I hadn't thought about what I wanted to give Charlie. His gifts always took a little more effort. More consideration. I was never there when he opened them and had to contend with a phone call afterwards.

Maybe my gift could be a visit. I could fly up to Forks over a long weekend and surprise him. I hadn't seen Charlie since the summer; it'd be a nice interlude until the end of school. I'd have to clear it with Mom first, but they did just give me some Christmas money. I couldn't think of a better way to spend it.

With Jane Eyre in my arms, I ran down the stairs. The damn Christmas spirit had gotten to me, and I was gonna see my dad six months early.

Time travel or not, I was moving on, too.

A/N: Happy Wednesday to everyone! I can't believe this is chapter eight already! Time is flying by.

As always, I'm super grateful for your comments and reviews. I'm also trying to get back into reading some fic, so if anyone has any recommendations, feel free to leave them here.

Thanks again!