I mostly loved, but occasionally hated being the half-human daughter of two vampires.
I was following in the footsteps of my dad, Edward, posing as a seventeen year old human at Forks High School. In theory, I actually was seventeen. I certainly looked the part: standing 5'8" (smaller than my dad, but taller than my mom), with cascading bronzed ringlets and warm chocolate brown eyes. I could act the part satisfactorily most of the time. I had to remember to make my moods swing fairly often, or it looked a little suspicious. That was one of the many vampire traits I had inherited: a rarely changing temperament. Luckily my skin did not betray be too much; because my heart pumped blood, I was warm to the touch. However, it was hard, and I had to be very diligent about controlling my gift when I made physical contact with humans. Also, it had a certain luminosity to it that occasionally drew unwanted attention to me when I stepped out in the sun. Any bit of skin I left uncovered would glow like a pearl. It was not overly obnoxious, but still bizarre enough for people to stare a little longer than normal. My face, though certainly that of a teenager, was slightly more delineated and of above-average attractiveness. It had become all but impossible for me to go anywhere in public with my dad after boys started to take notice of me: he was so appalled by a few of their thoughts that I felt his muscles tense and coil to spring at them. Although I was more than accustomed to and comfortable with the nature of my family, this particular incident scared me. I had immediately suggested we go home and hunt.
That was one of the bigger problems in both my social and romantic lives: my diet. I was definitely more vampire than human, and although I could eat human food, I rarely chose to. When it was necessary, like at school lunch times or any extended period of time I spent with humans, I would grudgingly eat what was put in front of me. But any other time, I would go after what truly satisfied me: blood. I found this neither problematic nor repulsive, but Jacob did. He loved me unconditionally, but he never fully adjusted to the darker side of my nature. He loved that I could keep up with him, and sometimes beat him at physical feats; he adored my animalistic snarls and teeth gnashing when I got annoyed with him. But when it came to dinner, he got a little squeamish. It was common practice for him to try and get me to eat human foods; he'd been doing that since I was born. But I stubbornly refused to do it. Going out for dinner wasn't something we would consider for a date. I avoided eating in front of him and he avoided trying to change my ways.
That was one of the things I liked best about Jacob being imprinted on me. Whatever I needed, Jacob provided. Whatever I didn't need, he eliminated. When I was a baby (or the age of a baby, rather) he would play with me for hours on end and never seem to tire of the games we played over and over. He said he felt constantly drawn to me; and I agreed, saying I always wanted him with me. When I started to get older, Jacob became my best friend. I didn't need his physical protection, but I needed someone who knew what it felt like to not be completely normal. I struggled with who I was for a long part of my "adolescence". I didn't fully belong to the vampire world and I certainly didn't belong to the human world. To make matters worse, I insisted that my grandfather Carlisle determine my chromosomal makeup. I believed that my DNA would tell me to which world I belonged. Humans have twenty-three pairs; vampires twenty-five. Jacob, a shape shifter, had twenty-four. I was expecting to be like Jacob, but it was not the case. Carlisle hesitated before he told me the news. He had only ever hesitated once in my lifetime: when he was trying to figure out when I would stop growing and how long I would live. He had hesitated because he wasn't sure. "You have twenty-four chromosomes," he started; I beamed with joy- "and one half." The only being on the planet with a half chromosome.
It had hit me hard. I was now officially standing by myself in every possible way. Jacob had been there for me through it all, and although Carlisle tried to help, he had inadvertently made things worse. He hypothesized that due to the discrepancy of chromosome numbers, Jacob and I would never be able to conceive. At the time, I was not concerned with that because children were not what I wanted, and so Jacob had not tried to oblige me. But as I grew older the thought of not having children with my one and only love almost broke my heart. I knew that my mom and dad had been able to conceive me, and I hung onto this with all of my hope. When I eventually came to the age where I started to find Jacob sexually attractive, he unconsciously adapted to my new feelings although he was actively trying to resist them. He was twenty-two but looked seventeen; I looked seventeen but was only five. Along with this issue were others. Jacob would stop aging whenever he was around me; I felt that this would deprive him of a normal life. Although imprinting made him a glorified slave to all my needs, he was still afraid to fall in love with me after having been my protector for so many years. Eventually he returned my affections and we fell into a rather normal relationship (for two hybrids of mythical proportions, of course).