I am so sorry for those who have waited for this. I've currently been busy and working on the second chapter of Marina: The Third Generation for The Little Mermaid. Now that the second chapter is up here is the third for this story. I'm halfway through the fourth and if you're reading my other one I'm nearly done with the third chapter.

Thank you. I don't own Twilight just to let you know.

Starligh529: Good guess, but no. And if you're wondering how that's possible for it not to be it'll all be clear in the next few chapters.

Chapter 3

Family Portrait

During lunch I sat at a table with the triplets and Taylor, they happened to be a pretty social group with three others included. Dana Mayer was Pamela's best friend and almost the same exact way as here, I figured those two would be the easier to get along with. Another girl named Maria Nuevo was there since she was nine and lived in Texas before that, she was a little loud and seemed to be one of Taylor's friends; though it was hard to understand since Maria was a bit of a dark person compared to everyone else.

Lastly was a boy who seemed to be a freshman. Dean Lane was a dark and very city-like boy. Right from when I shook his hand I could tell there was something about him I didn't want to get involved with. I've seen a lot of guys flirt but none so open as Dean, and it's not that he wasn't fit for it, he really was, but it made me uncomfortable.

By the end of lunch Dean had a dark bruise in his arm from Derrick and Jordan's combined bunches in the same spot. It was amusing to be honest.

P.E. was the easiest time of day for me, it was only volleyball and there's nothing wrong with a little competitiveness. Pamela proved to be to short to jump high enough and not very forceful, but she was quick which, on some occasions, gave me the chance to spike the ball.

Coach Whatchamacallit –I forget the name so I'll just call him Coach- asked me to be on the team but I'd rather not get to into anything. Normally I don't like showing off that I'm athletic because of all the comments I get about my parents. "Must have had a superstar dad." Or "Wonder which side she got it from." I hated hearing it without knowing the answers myself.

Those words lingered with me until I was walking back to the house. I hadn't seen Andrew at all after fourth period, not even at lunch or in the parking lot. Part of me wondered where he was and the other part of me just wanted to get away from him; it was this odd instinct feeling that told me to back off.

All around me the light rain barely made a sound and I was sure by now my hair looked almost black with how drenched it was. My jeans were a little uncomfortable too, the feeling of them sticking was making me walk a little slower. I'd lent my umbrella to Pamela after fifth and forgot to get it after sixth period, now I was already five minutes from home and there would have been no point in running back; I didn't even know where the Cheney triplets lived. I was also, almost positive, that one of them, if not all of them, drove by now.

The house was pretty simple. A front yard with a blue picket fence wrapped around it and flower bushes that Natasha was apparently insistent on having. Grass was green and well kept along with a sandbox that was nothing but mud now.

A large picturesque window was at the front peering into the living room where no one currently was –apparent since neither Mike nor Jessica's cars were out front. Above the awning over the front door was a pair of rectangular windows; both looked in to my room. Natasha's overlooked the backyard where more flowers and things bloomed to her liking.

"I'm home." I said, even though it felt like a lie. This wasn't a home to me; it was just a place to settle down for a bit -like the bus station I stayed in for two days before the police found me when I was eleven.

Kicking off the black rubber rain boots and setting them by Natasha's bright green ones I walked into the kitchen; the smell of chicken soup very alluring.

"Hi Claire, mom and dad aren't home yet so I'm just making us something warm to eat." Natasha was a typical dirty-blonde twelve year-old, though she had the maturity of someone my age. Her height needed some doing too; she looked nine or ten rather than a near thirteen year old.

Hopping down from the stool she was barefooted, wearing a blue skirt -not exactly proper clothing for this weather. Than again she'd been living in Forks all her short life.

"How do you stand it Natty, it's got to be below freezing outside." She brushed off what I said but beamed at the nickname I'd given her when I first moved in. Both Mike and Jessica called her Natasha. Once Mike had given it a try and only earned a glare from her, she declared only I was allowed to call her that. I had to admit I felt pretty special.

Looking down at the soup I gave her a thumbs-up and put the plastic spoon of broth to my lips. I didn't care if it burned me, at least part of me would be warm. "Nice job! Add a bit of garlic and it'd be superb." It really was good, Natty told me she'd learned to cook when she was eight so she wouldn't have to wait for her parents.

Mike was running the store often enough with Grandpa Newton –I don't know his real name or I'd probably call him that. And Jessica had opened a fashion boutique, which surprisingly got a lot of business in a small town like this. A few passerby's have been known to stop there and spend a good months worth of groceries –to say the least I was involuntarily one of the best dressed at school thanks to her, I tried to downsize it as much as possible.

While Natasha worked over the soup one more time I left the kitchen and ran up the stairs. The hall was narrow and covered with family portraits all the way back to Mike and Jessica's elementary school days. Some of them portrayed friends and others of them together; than there were the very few they'd snapped last week and two months ago of them and me and put up.

It was easy to see that I didn't belong next to any of them. I looked like some foreign cousin who just came to visit.

My door was the first one on the left of the hall; across from it was a bright green door with the newly painted name 'Natty' on it. Down at the end was Mike and Jessica's room the bathroom was located on the right side just after coming up the stairs. Not a very complicated home, the only extra room that we had Jessica used as a business and study room. I never went in there unless I needed to use the computer.

When I got here, the first thing Mike had asked was if I wanted to paint my door. Since Natasha had a bright green and he and his wife had a dark blue I told him to paint mine a bright yellow. It made them happy, I knew it would because yellow is a color of happiness and everyone was more satisfied with a happy child, or teenager I guess.

The room wasn't to bright today with all the clouds shielding what little light Forks got. My simple four-poster bed was thanks to 'Grammy', Jessica's mother, it sat prettily in one corner all made up with blue sheets and blankets. A dark oak desk was against the opposite wall where a stereo and some CDs sat scattered –I'd listened to most of them the night before. My dresser was pushed into the closet, a lot of the clothes brand-new and much to pretty for me to put on and ruin; some were things that would better suit people like Mrs. Cullen.

I sighed. Figures my thoughts would go from clothes to Mrs. Cullen and finally to Andrew. The only problem was that I didn't want to think about him like every other girl in Forks' high school probably did. Where would that get me? Besides I could already tell he was just a pompous spoiled boy –just really good at hiding it or something along those lines. Which only made me wonder if the Cullen's had the money to spoil Andrew; most likely.

"Claire come get it before it's to cold." Natasha was at my door and I hadn't even realized her come up the stairs. I really must have zoned out for a moment there.

In ten minutes I was dried and downstairs sipping at the broth. There was no doubt of Natasha's staring at me for approval and when I finally gave it to her she ate to. What would have made it better was if my soaking wet hair stopped dripping little droplets into the soup.

Watching the twelve year old I kind of figured why the Newton's adopted someone my age rather than younger. They were hardly ever here for Natasha and though she was mature she was still just a kid, someone my age could help with that situation, no problem. They all seemed to have a good amount of love but if my suspicions were true than it felt a little like being used. Than again, maybe Natasha was the one asking for the big sister. I sighed; I don't think I'd ever understand the Newton's reasoning. I shouldn't question a person's hospitality.

"Hey Natty, what do you know about the Cullen's?" I asked before I could stop myself.

She stopped blowing on her soup to look up at me quizzically. "What do you want to know?"

"You make it sound like some kind of secret, Natty." Laughing I tried to add some kind of curious humor; she didn't buy it.

"Well I hear a lot of stories. The Cullen's came back to Forks last year, though I heard a new one just came with them this year maybe two weeks before you did."

"Andrew." I interjected.

"You met him?" she rose her brow and I swear she gained ten years with that look. It was that parental look that said 'I'm watching you.'

"I have him for first and fourth."

Natasha was quiet for a moment and picked up her bowl to sip at the broth again while I chewed on a soft carrot and pushed the peas out of the way –apparently those green, round veggies were her favorite.

"When the couple first got here there was this whole hustle and bustle about it, than it just died down into a stupid rumor. Mrs. Cu-"

"You don't know her first name?" I questioned a little more anxiously than I meant to.

"Calm down Claire. I get most of the talk from kids. We only call her Mrs. Cullen obviously. Geez."

"Sorry."

"Anyways, Mrs. Cullen took the teaching job over at the school and I'm not really sure about Mr. Cullen. Come to think of it I've never seen him. There's a rumor that he doesn't exist; another that says he works out of town and another says he's a big, fat rich guy that works at home." She finished it with this goofy grin that said she was more likely to believe that last rumor. Things like that reminded me Natasha was still just a kid.

Rolling my eyes I stood up and finished the last stray noodle in my bowl putting it into the sink and rinsing it. I only felt it proper to do the dishes, since I'd been here though Jessica had done them. No one seemed keen on giving me to many chores. Mike had said to watch Natasha when they weren't around and make sure my room was always tidy. The hardest, in all honesty, would be the occasional help over at the store or boutique; both had told me that they'd pay when I helped so it was hardly a chore.

They all treated me like I was this breakable doll, vulnerable and weak. It was preposterous and actually ironically amusing; here I am trying to be the perfect daughter and they're trying to be the perfect parents. It was just funny in it's own way.

"The rumors about them before were silly." Natasha said again, I was only half paying attention since my mind was still wrapping itself around the similarities between the Newton's and me. "People used to say they were monsters, kind of like the succubus, you know, because they're so pretty."

My head perked up a bit and I turned to face her leaning against the counter. "Just because they're pretty?"

"Yeah. There was this girl a long time ago that was supposed to be real close to the Cullen's and poof one day she was gone. No one can even remember her name, it happened like twenty years ago or something." Natasha shrugged it off though, just like any other rumor.

"Weird." I muttered finishing off my dish and starting to rinse the pot Natasha had used to make it in, putting the remainder in a container to save for later.

"I like Mrs. Cullen, she helps out a lot around town and goes to see some of the senior citizens a lot. People think she's an angel." She giggled and almost laughed harder before continuing. "But if you ask me I think it's because she had a connection with them. Grandpa says that Mrs. Cullen likes to help out the former chief of police a lot, he had a bad accident a long time ago and he lost some of his memory, or at least that's the story."

My brows probably rose to my hairline at that point but before I could ask anything else I heard the door open and quickly dried my hands moving to sit at the table nearly slipping over my own sweats on the wood floor.

"Claire? Natasha?" it was Jessica, I was kind of thankful she wasn't as nosey about me as Mike was. He'd most likely come home and demand how my first day was. I suppose Jessica would be the same way if she weren't so awkward about my presence.

"We're in the kitchen mom." Natasha hopped off the chair and clung to her mother's small waist the minute she walked through the doorway. Her curls were drenched and pushed into her face hectically.

Once she'd spotted me she gave me a smile that was half forced and half true, it was easy to pick out the difference; I'd seen it to many times already.

"How was your first day, Claire? A lot of people have been expecting you so I'm sure you were hogging all the limelight today." Jessica seemed almost proud about that, but I didn't deny it and nodded my head.

"It wasn't so bad."

"She met Andrew Cullen." Natasha piped up innocently.

Jessica's eyes widened for a moment her hues glazing over in thought, like she was trying to remember something. A second or two later she snapped out of it and put on a smile.

"Is that so, I heard about him, such a nice boy too. He and his mother stopped by after school to take a look."

"Sister." I corrected watching her raise a brow at me. Natasha nodded her head to agree with my words.

"Oh, well I guess I could have been mistaken, they seemed very well behaved for siblings." She said. "I guess they really do have an uncanny resemblance."

I wanted to correct again and say sister-in-law but when I thought about it Jessica wasn't lying or overlooking anything. Both Andrew and Mrs. Cullen looked remarkably alike. They were both beautiful brunettes with pale skin and liquid eyes, though I'd noticed Andrews were a bit darker than Mrs. Cullen's. And both even had a way of looking at me like I was some kind of significant missing link in the chain of evolution; maybe I am a little over observant.

"I'm going to go do some homework." I finally just stated. There was no point in hanging around.

"Oh wait, Claire." Jessica interrupted my exit her face flustered –it looked like she was struggling to hold back a secret. "I wanted to wait till your dad got here." There was avoiding how awkward that sounded, "but since you passed you're Drivers ED classes last year and all. Seeing as how you're also going to be seventeen soon."

"Mom and Dad got you a new car!" Natasha interjected again and I felt myself go cherry red. I'd planned to work and get my own, not have them go out and get me one.

"Well it's not brand new, but it's not old either, two years maybe. It runs fine and perfect for a teen like you." What kind of teen did she think I was? "Of course it's more like a birthday present so you can't see it until than."

I didn't know what to say, eventually I muttered a small thank you and tried to smile as big as possible, I really was grateful, it was just weird. When I met Jessica and her husband two months ago at my foster home in California they weren't very comfortable and it still seemed to be the same. Well for Jessica it was but Mike seemed to think I was this puppy that needed love and constant attention, a cute fuzzy puppy that people can't resist or something like that.

Jessica seemed satisfied with it though and turned to towards the living room. When she got home she usually went straight to the study to punch in the day's progress. Afterwards she'd ask each of us what we wanted for dinner. They had seemed determined, Mike and Jessica, to include me right into their previous family rituals.

Later on that night after Mike got home and we'd eaten some kind of veggie meatloaf Jessica was determined to try –and of course a bunch of awkward 'moms' and 'dads' later- I finally caught some peace in my room to think over my one day in school at Forks. I never thought just one day could get me so wrapped up in everything like a good mystery book that I couldn't put down.

The homework on my lap wasn't enough to keep me occupied because a moment later I was doodling stick figures on a binder paper. Art was never really my strong point: pencil, pen or paintbrush. A knock on my door had turned my perfect circle head into an oval and I looked up not knowing what to say really –the week before everyone had waited for me to come out of my room.

"C-come in." I said, as Mike's blonde hair poked around the corner.

"Finish you're homework, kiddo?" he said.

Despite the whole situation I probably felt more comfortable with Mike than anyone else. He wasn't much a father figure, but as a big brother he could have excelled in my opinion. Especially the way he made 'kiddo' sound like a personal joke instead of some kind of regulation thing between a parent and their child.

"Just finished, it's not that hard."

"I talked to Coach today," Apparently I'm not the only one who calls him just Coach. "He said you would be pretty good on the volleyball team."

I shook my head before he could say anymore, "Uhm, it's not that I don't want to join the team." I hesitated, Mike seemed like a guy for sports. "I just would rather work on my studies."

He nodded his head, the one hand behind his back coming forward with a rectangular, flat object. Mike's visage had just the slightest smile on it while he pushed the item into my hands. I looked down at it questioningly before turning my gaze back up to him; he just motioned for me to open it up. So I just shrugged and ripped of the first layer of paper and my eyes widened a bit more than I thought ever possible.

"It'll be our first one ever." He said putting a hand in my hair to ruffle it around.

"Thanks…really, thank you."

Mike didn't say anymore and I knew I couldn't, so he gave me another pat on the head and walked out of my room.

In my hands was a five-by-seven picture of Mike holding Jessica and Natasha on my back in the front. This was the first picture snapped after they decided that they wanted to adopt me. I couldn't hide how much I'd smiled that day and Natasha was thrilled at being my sister. Our first family portrait.

The gesture was sweet but looking at it still gave me the feeling that something was missing. I didn't know what it was but somehow my thoughts seem to drift and linger on the Cullen's.

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to keep reviewing.

Elaine Coven