Chapter III: That Which Does Not Kill You

"Driving at the speed limit—hideous thought."
—Stephenie Meyer

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Set when Renesmee is physically around sixteen

It was gloomy and rainy and, as far as weather went, a pretty miserable day in Forks. Renesmee paced the length of her grandfather Carlisle's bookshelf, which reached from the ground to the height of the ceiling and covered the entire wall.

She was fresh out of reading material. She made a soft noise of frustration. Wuthering Heights was sitting ostentatiously on her dresser at home in her room. At the first sign of book shortage, her mother had thrust her tattered copy under her nose and insisted upon her reading it. However, that was two weeks ago and the book still sat untouched.

There was something extremely . . . Bella about that book, and Nessie just wasn't ready to settle into that read again.

So she came to the big house in search of entertainment. Grandpa Carlisle was, as he always is, absolutely delighted to open his library to her. But his tastes in reading were somewhat more serious than hers. She wasn't really in the mood to read about William Harvey's discovery of blood circulation.

She gave up and made her way back down the stairs, at the bottom of which her parents sat engaged in a game of chess. This was generally quite an amusing way to spend the afternoon, watching her mother and father battle for kings. She wasn't really in the humour for it today, however.

"Look at this, Nessie," her mother called. Bella swiped her queen across the board and captured his rook. "Check."

Edward eyes darted around the squares with lighting precision, searching for an out. His knight took her queen, but she soon had him cornered again.

"I think she's got you, Dad," Renesmee whispered to his ear.

Edward chest inflated infinitesimally. "Of course she doesn't. I'm merely considering my options."

Nessie rolled her eyes. Her mother was the only one who could equal him in chess, and that wasn't because of his insurmountable talent for the game. He just usually cheated. With his mind.

"It's not cheating, Renesmee."

She nodded indifferently and moved to look out one of the grand panelled windows. She was supposed to be spending the day with Jacob, but there was some last minute emergency or something and he had to work.

It sucked that he was a grown up sometimes.

"He said he'd call over after work, Nessie," Edward said without looking up from the board.

"I know," she said. She sighed and sat down to watch the end of their game. Bella won the first, Edward the second.

Suddenly, from across the room, Emmett whistled. Nessie's eyes flashed to him. With one finger, he beckoned her over to him. Did he really whistle at her?

He was sitting in the living room, next to Rosalie, one of those ridiculous action movies that he loved so dearly playing on the television. "What?" she said indignantly when she reached him. "I'm not a dog."

"You're not," Rosalie said. "But the company you keep . . ."

Renesmee rolled her eyes. "What do you want, Uncle Em?"

"Hey!" he whispered. "I was trying to save you."

"From what?"

"Dying of boredom. You can't spend your Saturdays watching your parents play chess, kid."

"I didn't intend to," she said, and she looked a bit lost.

She must have looked very lost, because Emmett moved to the other end of the sofa to make room for her between him and his wife. He tapped the cushion. "Come on," he said.

Renesmee smiled and squashed in between them. "I was supposed to go to Jake's house. But he had to work." In fairness to Jacob, this was the first and only time he had ever cancelled anything with her. And he hadn't even cancelled – he just postponed.

"What am I always saying about stray dogs?" Rosalie asked. "Filthy, unreliable things."

Renesmee rolled her eyes again. "I know," she agreed. "Filthy."

The adverts to the movie they were watching ended and Emmett sat up straight again. "Now, watch this," he told Nessie. "It will cheer you up."

It was, as Renesmee expected it to be, an utterly ridiculous film.

She didn't say anything, though, because her uncle Emmett was obviously enjoying it, and he was being really nice and she didn't want to spoil it for him.

That was until the stunts began to test the laws of gravity. She couldn't help herself then. "That's so stupid!" she said.

Emmett didn't look up from the television. "What is?"

"This car chase!"

"What are you talking about? This is one of the best movies ever made."

"Fine, but, come on." She waved her hand haphazardly in the direction of the television. "He can't drive through a pedestrian street and lean out of the car window and shoot at the same time. No one can drive like that."

"Uh—" Emmett looked at her disapprovingly "—some of us can."

"No one without vampire powers."

"I could do that before I was a vampire."

"They had cars all the way back then?"

"How old do you think I am?"

Renesmee didn't answer that. Smart girl. She said instead: "He's too young to be driving, anyway."

"Nah, kids drive at that age nowadays."

"I don't."

Silence.

"You should."

Silence.

"I should?"

"You're a Cullen, aren't you?" Emmet asked. "All Cullen's are impeccable drivers. Edward?" he called, which wasn't very necessary because, A) Edward was just across the room, and B) Edward was a vampire.

"Absolutely not," her father said, without even looking up from his game.

Emmett squinted at his niece. "I think she should. She's old enough now."

Edward looked at him as though he asked to chop Nessie up and broil her on the stove. "She's six years old."

"I thought we agreed I'm sixteen?" Nessie said. "Physically."

"I guess we did," Bella said. Carlisle's monthly measurements were very accurate.

Edward moved his disbelieving look to his wife. "Bella. She's still six."

Bella looked at Nessie. Nessie looked at Bella. "She is the oldest, most responsible six year old I know."

Her father, his eyes sewn together with panic, directed his next question at Renesmee. "Do you want to learn, Nessie?"

"Yes!" she said, and she turned to give him her best puppy dog eyes. "I'd be so careful, Daddy, please."

Edward considered it very seriously for a moment. "Well, I guess we could try—"

"Ahhh!" She jumped up off the sofa.

"—but there are conditions."

"Of course."

"Firstly, you learn in the Volvo."

"Come on, Edward," Emmett groaned. "She'll have no fun in that. I'll bring down my truck and—"

"My biggest priority right now is safety, Emmett. No trucks." He turned back to Renesmee. "Secondly, you have to listen carefully to me, Nessie. Do exactly as I say. It's vitally impor—"

"You'd swear she was performing heart surgery," Emmett muttered to Rosalie. "He's going to drain all the enjoyment out of it."

"Emmett!" he snapped.

"Alright, alright," Emmett relented. "I'll go drag the Volvo from the garage," he said and started towards the door.

"What?" Edward asked. "You're not helping."

"Little Nessie Cullen behind the wheel of a car? You expect me to miss that?" And then he had disappeared.

It all happened very quickly. One minute she was sitting in the living room watching a terrible movie, the next she was sitting behind the wheel of her dad's oldest car.

Edward sat in the passenger's seat. Jasper sat in the back seat, leaning through the middle so his head was only inches from hers. Jasper had been granted entrance to the car because tensions were running high and they figured his talents would be of use. Emmett sat beside him, bouncing with excitement.

"You'll do great, sweetheart," Bella said, leaning in the driver's window. "I know you will. Your father's an excellent teacher." Renesmee might have believed her, too, if Bella hadn't said immediately afterward that she was going to watch from inside. "Too many people will make you nervous," she said.

But Nessie knew her mother was worried that she had too much Bella in her. She had definitely inherited her mother's former terrible coordination.

"I'll be right inside, okay?" She kissed Nessie on the forehead. "You'll be fantastic, like you are at everything else." Renesmee made a face. "Good luck!" Her mother danced off inside.

"Okay then?" she said, and she put her hands on the wheel.

No one seemed to know what to do next.

She was so nervous. Ever butterfly in the world had migrated to her stomach. She could feel their wings beating against her insides.

The car was deathly silent.

"Okay then," Edward said. "First things first. Buckle your seatbelt."

Emmett actually snorted. The tension immediately diffused and Renesmee released a string of butterfly-filled laughter into the air. Even from inside, you could hear Bella's golden giggles.

"I have never," Renesmee wheezed, one hand on her stomach to hold herself together, "seen you wear a seatbelt."

Edward bristled. "Maybe not, but, Renesmee, so help me God, if you ever get behind the wheel of any car without a seatbelt—"

"Alright, alright," she said. "I'll wear the seatbelt." She sighed as she repositioned herself in the driver seat – he could be such a hypocrite.

"Hey," her father said. "I heard that."

"Sorry," she muttered.

"So," Edward said. "This is a stick shift. If you learn on an automatic, you'll never get the stick."

"Okay."

"Okay. Right pedal is the gas, left is the clutch, middle is the brake. You use your right foot on the accelerator and brake. Got it?"

She looked at her father. "You drive with two feet all the time."

"I've been driving for a very long time. For now, and until you're about fifty, you use one foot."

"One foot," she said, glancing up in the rear-view mirror at Uncle Jasper, who smiled devilishly back at her. "Got it."

Waves of soothing, relaxing, soporific energy emanated from the backseat.

She wanted to thank Jasper, but didn't dare look away from the levers her father was pointing out. "This is your turn signal," he was saying, leaning over to point. "And this one you use to shift. Now, you want to pull it toward you and—"

She tried and the car lurched forward a foot and then deadpanned.

There was silence.

Edward cleared his throat. "I hadn't finished explaining. Keep your feet off the pedals for a moment."

Renesmee's fingers flexed over the steering wheel. "I think you should put on your seatbelt, too."

Edward smiled like it was ridiculous, but he still fastened it around himself. "Right pedal is the gas, middle is the brake, left is the clutch?"

"Right – gas. Left – clutch. Okay."

"Okay. Let's get started. Take a deep, calming breath." She snapped her head to him and glared.

"I am calm."

"Take a breath and press down on the clutch with your right foot."

She did. "Alright. Now what?"

"Now you shift the car into drive. You just – yeah, that's it – pull it towards you."

"Now what?"

"Press down – gently – on the gas."

With immeasurable trepidation, she softly eased her foot onto the accelerator. The car sputtered and died.

It took eleven more tries before she got it successfully into first gear.

"Alright – okay – good – that's great, Nessie."

"You're a pro, darlin'," Jasper said behind her. She smiled and looked at him through the mirror.

"Thanks, Uncle Jazz—"

"Renesmee, keep your eyes on the road!" her father all but shouted.

"What? I – ahh!" She slammed her foot on the brakes.

The car stuttered to a halt.

More silence, and then—

"Why did you stop?"

"Why did you shout at me?" Renesmee said indignantly

"I didn't shout. You've just got to play attention, Nessie."

"I just looked in the mirror. You have to do that when you drive! Beside, I'm only going, like, four miles an hour."

"Okay. Let's just try again. Gas pedal – a little harder. Perfect."

They were coming to the end of the driveway. Renesmee's thoughts went haywire to panic. "What – am I – am I going out on the road?"

"Yeah," Edward said. "Slow down a bit and take the left. Don't worry, on one drives along here. Slowly, alright? Very, very slowly."

Renesmee flipped the indicator and she very slowly turned out onto the main road. Her speed climbed steadily, and she was almost enjoying herself when:

"Change the gear. Nessie – clutch, gear."

She glanced down at her feet and then at the gear stick.

"Eyes on the road!" her father hollered.

"I'm trying to change gear!"

"Too fast. Renesmee, slow down!"

Renesmee grunted and slammed her foot on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt.

Edward sat up in his seat. "Well, I think that's maybe enough for today."

"No, no, Nessie's just getting good," Emmett said. He sounded like he was enjoying this.

"I wouldn't call it good," Renesmee muttered.

"Neither would I. I was trying to be nice."

"You're doing fine," her father assured her, shooting daggers over his shoulder at his brother.

Renesmee focused on the wheel. She had never been fine at anything before in her life. She had never been anything less than excellent. Less than the best. This was a strange experience for her. She wanted to talk to Jacob.

Edward sighed. "Turn around here and we can head back to the house."

Renesmee flicked the turn signal and shifted the car into reverse. It was slow, painful process. She would back up too far and go into the ditch, and then go forward too far and into the opposite ditch. She cut out the engine a lot.

Driving, as it happened, was difficult.

And learning to drive with a father who could read your thoughts was significantly more difficult.

The return journey sounded something like this—

Edward: "No, Renesmee, no – you're not doing it right."

Renesmee: "I'm doing exactly what you told me to."

Edward: "I did not tell you to swerve into the middle of the road!"

Renesmee: "I didn't mean to do that!"

Edward: "Will you please concentrate on what you're doing."

Renesmee: "How am I supposed to concentrate when you're shouting in my ear the whole time?"

Edward: "I'm teaching you, Renesmee, not shouting."

Renesmee: "Oh, well, you could have fooled me."

And then there would be an uncomfortable silenced, followed by either Emmett laughing inappropriately and making some snide comment about women drivers, or Jasper sending waves of calming energy forward in the hopes of bridging some peace.

"Turn signal, Renesmee," Edward said. "Turn signal!"

For the umpteenth time that day, Renesmee slammed on the brakes. "That's it!" she cried. "That's it." She turned to her father with venom in her eyes. "I cannot drive all the way back home with you snipping at me the whole time! I just can't!"

Sometimes, Edward's daughter frustrated him without even meaning to. She could manage it by just being his daughter. They were too alike, Bella often said, so they bumped heads easily. Their tempers were the same.

"Well, Renesmee," (it was beginning to annoy her, the way he kept using her full name. It meant he was mad at her) "I don't see any alternative. You're just going to have to suck it up if you want to learn how to drive."

"I don't," she snapped back. "Not this much." She unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car. "I'll walk."

Edward stared open-mouthed as she slammed the door. He was discovering how distinctly teenagers differed from children. "You are not walking—" he began, climbing out the passenger side, but Emmett intervened.

"I think I have an idea," he said.

"Not now," Edward said, his eyes on his daughter who was taking visibly calming breaths.

"No, really." Emmett looked enthusiastic. "You need to cool off, Edward. Why don't you walk, and I'll drive back with Nessie?"

"No, I don't need—"

"That might be a good idea." Jasper was standing off to the side a bit, avoiding the conflict. "You two aren't best together in confined spaces when you're annoyed."

Edward looked at his daughter. "Is that alright with you?"

"Fine." She got back into the car.

Emmett made his way to join her, when Edward caught him. "Be careful with her. She's more brakeable than you're used to."

He smiled. "I always am."

Renesmee had settled back into the driver's seat when Emmett slid in next to her. "Alright, Nessie! Are you ready for some real driving?"

She tied her seatbelt and tried to be positive. "Absolutely."

He gestured freely to the open road. "Then whenever you're ready."

Her knuckles were white against the black wheel. She started the car slowly (it only took her four tries this time) and pulled out onto the road.

After a few minutes, he said, a bit disgruntled, "Forget what your dad said. Kick it up a gear. Let the wind in your hair."

She tried to look at him and look at the road. "What?"

"Driving fast will not kill you."

"It won't kill you, Uncle Em."

He rolled his eyes. "Seriously. Let loose a little.

So she sped up. And then she sped up a little more. And then she found that, like the rest of her family, she enjoyed moving quickly. So she sped up a lot more.

"Now we're talking!" Emmett was grinning madly, watching her like she was a crazed woman.

The engine strained and she knew she was in the wrong gear. But the process of changing it seemed uncomprehendingly difficult. And she remembered how expressly her father had asked her to go slowly, just for the first time. And the car was really going too fast. And Renesmee was getting altogether too stressed. She tried to relax.

In her mind, Jacob appeared, telling her to calm down and close her eyes and take a deep breath, like he always did.

So she did. And she started to relax.

Until Emmett was roaring himself hoarse.

"The brakes! Hit the goddamned brakes!"

But it was too late. The car crashed into a tree just as Renesmee slammed the brakes. She tensed for the pain, waited to wallop into the steering wheel, but Emmett yanked her out of the car before any damage was done.

She watched as the Volvo's hood bended itself around the trunk. Billows of smoke seeped from the engine. The car alarm blared.

She turned to her uncle. He had no sympathy for her.

"Why the hell did you close your eyes?" he screamed over the blaring.

"I don't know!" she screamed back.

"Edward's gonna kill me!"

"You? I was the one driving his precious Volvo!"

"Yeah, and I was looking after you!"

"Oh, God."

Emmett took a deep breath. "Hey, at least you're still alive. You know what they say . . . that which does not kill you—"

The alarm stopped abruptly, and Nessie looked up to find her father and Jasper standing beside the car, which was still coughing and spitting fumes.

Edward darted around the wreckage to his daughter. He gingerly placed a hand on either of her cheeks. "What – what happened? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" he asked, horrified, checking her over for injuries.

"No. I'm fine," she whispered, her voice lost all of a sudden.

"There's not a scratch on her, Edward," Emmett said. "I got her out before."

"Really?" Once he assured she was perfectly intact, he seemed to realise that she had just totalled his car. "I've had that since before you were born."

"I know, Daddy. I'm so, so sorry. I panicked!"

He let go of her. "So I can see."

No one said anything for what seemed like a very long time.

Emmett took a step back. "I'll run up to the main house. Get the truck so we can – uh – get towing."

"Emmett!" Nessie whipped around. She was waiting for him to defend her, not run away. He was, after all, the one who offered to teach her in the first place.

"What?" he said. Was he laughing? "I didn't know you'd be so terrible!"

Not a moment later Bella appeared, her face aghast. "My God. What happened?"

Renesmee put her head in her hands. This was horrible.

"Well," Emmett said, and if he wasn't such a loving uncle, Nessie could have sworn he was enjoying this. "It appears we found something little Renesmee isn't good at."

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COMING UP . . .

She tried to shake her head out of it – what did it matter to her if Jacob was with a girl? A whole legion of girls? It shouldn't matter one bit.

But it did.

God, it mattered.

"Nessie?" Jacob was asking. "Are you alright?" He stepped in front of her.

"Yeah," she told him, and before she could stop herself, a haphazard, fatal sentence leapt put of her mouth—

—"I'm just wondering why I've never met any of your girlfriends," she blurted.

Noise drained around them like air from a punctured balloon. It went deathly quiet. Painstakingly quiet. So quiet she could hear the blood pump through her veins.