A/N: In this chapter: Nessie goes to School!

This chapter marks the introduction of an original character. Renesmee's bound to make friends, and they can't all derive from the source material. Deal with it. Personally, I like him… I think he's cute =) This installment also includes some Canada-lovin'… shout out to all my fellow Canuck readers. Hi guys… make yourselves known!

Those of you who thrive on action and tense situations… sorry. We'll get to that soon enough… hang in there.

As always, please review… and enjoy!

~Crit.

Chapter 8: Another First Day

Renesmee was up at dawn, five and a half hours of sleep more than enough to leave her feeling refreshed and ready for the first day of school. She quickly ran through her morning routine of shower, moisturize, brush, floss and blowdry, and then brushed on some subtle makeup as an afterthought. Her curls got pulled back into a neat twist at the base of her neck. Then she headed to her closet/boutique hybrid to pick out an outfit suitable for a brand new Masters student. Renesmee sighed and pulled her robe tighter around herself. She hated to admit it, but Alice had thought of everything. As much as she disliked being her Aunt's own personal dress up doll, she knew that everything in the closet was hand-picked to look stunning on her. Alice had a knack for that sort of thing.

She settled on tailored wool slacks in a rich brown colour and a crisp cream blouse, which she topped with a Kelly green cashmere cardigan. She picked out a pair of ankle boots with a slight heel to pull on later. Then she turned to look at herself in the full-length mirror at the back of the closet, and smiled at her reflection. Very collegiate. On a whim, she reached over and pulled out a pair of thick-framed glasses, placing them on her face. It was almost like looking at a completely different person. Renesmee thought to herself that she looked at least twenty-one with her new, mature wardrobe, tidy hair and completely unnecessary glasses. Maybe she wouldn't stand out so badly in her classes full of adult students.

She had bought her textbooks online weeks before the move, and she was reading one at the kitchen table while enjoying her second enormous cup of coffee when she heard Jacob coming down the stairs. It was hard to decide what she wanted to look at more, the essay that she had been poring over in her text book or her best friend's bare, muscled chest. She opted for the book, figuring it was more appropriate, willing herself to give Jacob a casual smile as he entered the room.

"'Morning," she said, turning the page. "There's still some coffee, if you want it." Jacob, his eyes still foggy with sleep, just stood there looking at her.

"How long have you been up?" he asked, staring. Renesmee suddenly felt self-conscious in her fancy clothes and ridiculous glasses.

"About three hours," she said, not looking up. Her cheeks were burning. She was sure that Jacob was thinking she looked like a little girl right now, playing dress up in a grown woman's closet.

"Huh," he said, pouring himself a coffee and sitting down. "You look really nice," he said offhandedly.

"Oh." Renesmee immediately wished she'd said something more intelligent. "Thanks. It's all Aunt Alice." Jacob grimaced.

"I guess I'm going to have to explore my closet sometime." Renesmee laughed at that and pretended to go back to her reading. She was extremely conscious of Jacob scooping teaspoon after teaspoon of sugar into his coffee before taking a long swig. "God that's good."

"Hawaiian," Renesmee said, taking another sip from her own cup (no sugar… she liked her coffee as bitter as possible). "Want eggs? Grandma Esme sent an entire hen house worth in the car with Emmett."

Jacob looked over at her gratefully. "That is the best news I've heard all day."

"You've only been up ten minutes!"

Jacob ignored her in favor of heading for the fridge. "Should I throw on a couple extra?" Renesmee sneered at the idea.

"No thanks. I'll stick to liquids this morning. I'm going to have to build up the stomach for eggs, I think." Jacob gave her an incredulous look.

"You'll completely drain a coyote, but a little chicken embryo sends you into a panic. I'll never get that."

Renesmee swatted him lightly on the arm. "You don't have to get it. You just have to make sure the steaks in the fridge are marinating by the time I get home from school."

Jacob chuckled. "Yes ma'am." He saluted her rigidly.

"Very impressive, soldier," Renesmee intoned, keeping a straight face. "But I'd prefer 'Oh Captain, my Captain'." Jacob just rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, okay."

Renesmee checked the clock on the microwave. "I'm going to be late if I don't head out soon," She said, gathering her books into her waiting messenger bag. "Have a good day." She couldn't help but reflect upon the pure domesticity of the scenario. It was almost too idyllic, the two of them sipping coffee in their overblown loft, cooking breakfast, wishing each other a pleasant day. Renesmee forced back a chuckle at the thought of Jacob as a nineteen-fifties-style housewife, cooking and cleaning all day while she was off at work.

It wasn't a very long walk to the building her first class was in. Renesmee made a note of all the places she passed that she might want to visit in the future: an ice cream store, a clothing boutique, a small independent gallery, several Starbucks coffee shops. She bought herself another coffee and made a beeline for her class, now in real danger of being late. She wasn't sure how large the class would be, but her major was fairly specialized. She was willing to wager that a latecomer would be noticed.

Fortunately, when she reached the classroom, people were still filing in and chatting to each other. Almost all of the seats were taken; Renesmee surveyed her options with faster-than-human speed. There were five open spots, and she quickly made a list of potential seatmates: A stern-looking older lady sitting on the right and writing left-handed, a slovenly young man whose hair looked like it hadn't been washed recently and probably smelled, a gangly academic type with thick-rimmed glasses, a girl with dark indigo hair and too much eyeliner, another girl with very blonde highlights whose expensive-looking purse and enormous laptop took up at least two thirds of the desk. Renesmee sighed and headed for the tall, nerdy boy's desk.

"Hi," she said tentatively. "Mind if I sit here?" He looked at her, clearly surprised. At what, Renesmee couldn't say. She started to feel extremely self-conscious. Why was he looking at her that way? Did he know what she was?

"Of course!" he said suddenly, and then his expression turned startled. "Wait, not 'of course', as in 'of course I mind you sitting here'. 'Of course' as in 'of course, please sit.' So, um… of course not." He shut his mouth and looked up at her lamely.

Renesmee didn't want to laugh at him, but she couldn't help breaking into a small smile as she sat down. He clearly didn't suspect anything about her… he was just awkward. She mentally cursed her own rampant paranoia. "Thanks," she said, settling into her chair. They shared a quick smile before the young man went back to the page he'd been reading in his textbook.

From the front of the classroom, the course director cleared her throat expectantly. Renesmee suddenly forgot about everything else: her distracted morning with Jacob, her perfect morning walk through their new neighbourhood, her bookish seatmate. She was keyed up, ready to completely immerse herself in the sheer joy of studying. She pushed at her fake glasses, which were slipping down the bridge of her nose, and pulled out her pen and notebook.

"Good morning," The professor, a middle aged woman in a very smart pantsuit said as she stalked around the desk to a large, empty whiteboard on the back wall. "I'm glad to see you all made it. I'm surprised to see such a large turnout… Monday mornings are not particularly close friends with the common grad student." There were a few chuckles at this. "My name," she said, writing rapidly on the board with a green dry-erase marker, "Is Imelda Bruce, and this is ANTH. 5572: The Physical Artifact in Cultural Anthropology."

After that, it was all a blur of note-taking, question answering and discussion. Renesmee got caught up in the whole process, relishing how good it felt to be stretching her mind after so many months of stagnation. Most of the people who spoke up in the class seemed to be well-spoken and clear-headed. She breathed an internal sigh of relief: her first class of the year, and she was already certain it was one she would enjoy.

The two hour lecture finished all too quickly. Renesmee had her schedule committed to memory; she had an hour and a half break, and then another four hours of classes in the afternoon. She gathered her things and slid them into her bag.

"That was a really good lecture," her seat mate mused. She wasn't sure whether or not he was talking to her, he was staring into space, looking thoughtful. "I thought it was good. Did you?"

Renesmee nodded emphatically. "Yeah, I did. She's very good."

"Yeah, Bruce is a bit of a department legend. I'm sort of only taking this course because of her. I don't really need it." He shrugged. "I'm finished this year, and I couldn't bear to graduate without having at least one lecture with her." He looked at her, and she noticed that he looked a bit older than she'd originally thought; maybe early thirties as opposed to late twenties. He had been so awkward and bashful that she'd automatically registered him as younger than her probably was, but now she could see signs of maturity in his face that she hadn't noticed before, and hoped that he wasn't having the same revelation in reverse with regards to her. She also noticed that behind his thick glasses his eyes were very large and very green. "So, what about you? First year in the program?" He asked in a friendly tone. Renesmee nodded.

"Yeah. I'm pretty excited for my other classes… I've got North American Prehistoric Culture this afternoon." His face brightened.

"Really? I took that last year… I'm specializing in North American Prehistory. Do you have David Prott?"

Renesmee wracked her brain. It sounded familiar. "I think so."

"Oh man… Prott's the best. You'll really like him… just make sure you're always on time."

"On time. Got it." They were leaving the lecture hall now. Renesmee's seat mate stopped and turned to her.

"I'm heading down the street for a coffee… I couldn't help but notice how attached you were to that Starbucks cup earlier. Can I interest you in another?"

Renesmee was pleased and surprised. She'd barely spoken to him, and he was inviting her for a coffee. Meaning he wanted to spend time with her. Meaning maybe she'd already found a friend. "Sure. I'm always up for coffee."

They strolled through the hall towards the exit side by side. Renesmee realized with a start that she hadn't even introduced herself. Renesmee Cullen, socially inept, half-human moron, she thought before extending a hand and saying, "I'm Ness, by the way."

"It's nice to meet you, Ness." He shook her hand firmly. "I'm Rideau."

She couldn't help it; a quick, derisive snort of laughter escaped her before she could realize it was happening. "Reedo?" She said incredulously. Almost as soon as she'd said it she began to feel immeasurably awful. She'd made a friend, and within two minutes had insulted his name and laughed in his face. Nessie, you're such a creep, she thought to herself. She snuck a look at him, to see if he was horrified by her behavior.

He was just rolling his eyes at her with an indulgent smile, giving her the impression that maybe this sort of thing happened to him a lot.

"Rideau with an E-A-U, like the canal." His smile looked a bit like a grimace. "It's French," he said dully. Now Renesmee laughed right out loud, seeing a chance to redeem herself.

"That's not so bad," She said, and the she leaned into him slightly, lowering her voice. "I'll tell you something that'll make you feel better, but you have to keep it a secret."

"Okay," Rideau said in a stage whisper, playing along, "I promise. What is it?"

"My name's not really Ness," she said, and then she looked at him very seriously. "It's Renesmee."

"Ruh-nez-may?" He sounded it out slowly, making a face like he was tasting something strange and not entirely pleasant. "Yikes."

"Tell me about it." She rolled her eyes. "I'd take the canal any day."

Rideau laughed. "I don't actually mind it. It's in Ottawa, by the Canadian parliament buildings… I think my parents were trying to be patriotic."

"You're Canadian?" Renesmee asked excitedly. "My family just moved to Upstate from St. John's."

Rideau gave her a huge grin. "Ahh… so you're a Newfie." He shook his head. "I should have known. There's always something wrong with the cute ones." He was clearly joking. Renesmee decided to ignore the fact that he'd called her cute.

"Sadly, No. I'm from Washington state. I wish I was, though… Newfies are always a fun crowd." She thought distractedly of Emmett, who had been so delighted to discover the hard-partying, fun-loving ways of the locals in their last place of residence. "And not dumb at all," she added in a scolding tone.

"I'll believe when I see it," said Rideau laughingly. Renesmee laughed along with him.

"What about you… where're you from?" she asked as they entered the coffee shop. Rideau examined the posted menu as he answered.

"Northern Ontario… a town called Temagami. My father is a biologist, and he moved up there with my mother when my older brother was two. It was supposed to last six months, but they fell in love with the place and ended up staying." He turned to the cashier. "Venti Cappuccino, dry please and…" he gestured to Renesmee.

"Oh! Um, a Venti Americano. Thanks." She pulled a five dollar bill out of her wallet, but Rideau waved it away.

"My treat. I insist." Renesmee opened her mouth to protest, but Rideau just shook his head. "Don't worry… you can bring me one next Monday morning."

"Okay," Renesmee put her money away. She wondered if Rideau still would have bought her coffee if he'd known how much her outfit cost.

They got their drinks and sat down. "So," Rideau said conversationally, "What made your family decide to move back below the 49th?" Renesmee was thankful to be halfway through a sip of her coffee… it gave her more time to piece together a plausible answer. She went for a half-truth.

"We're a pretty tight-knit family, and my, uh, brothers and sisters are probably going to want to visit me here in the city fairly often. With the way the borders are these days, they figured it would be easier just to move Upstate."

"Wow… you must be close if they're willing to buy a new house just to be nearby for visits."

Renesmee felt a bit uncomfortable. It was hard for her to remember that her family's wealth and ease of living was uncommon. "Well, we already had the house. My parents own a lot of property, and we never stay in one place for long."

Rideau seemed to accept this explanation. "So, how many brothers and sisters do you have?"

None. "Six."

"Six?!" Rideau's eyes were wide. "Wow. Your parents are brave people," he said.

"Braver than you think," Renesmee said, thinking of both Carlisle and Esme and her real parents. At his curious look, she explained, "we're all adopted."

"Wow. So basically, your parents are Brangelina, right?"

Renesmee laughed. "Basically. Only better looking."

"They must be fascinating people," Rideau said, admiration clear in his voice.

"You can't even imagine," Renesmee said with a wry smirk.

Rideau shook his head. "You're probably right."

They talked about family and places they'd lived for a good long time, until it was finally time for Renesmee to head to her next class. Before she left, they exchanged cell phone numbers, and after promising to meet up later in the week for another coffee, they went their separate ways, Renesmee with a huge smile on her face at having made a real, honest-to-god Human friend at last.

oooOOOooo

"Hi!" Renesmee called out as she shut the door to the loft behind her.

"Hey Nessie!" Jacob's voice echoed through the wide open space of the loft before he came into view. When he did, it was by dropping himself over the railing, landing hard on his feet in the middle of the main room. Renesmee snickered; clearly, her mother's admonition about using the stairs hadn't gotten through to Jacob, either. Then she took in the sight of him, and found herself laughing for yet another reason.

"Have you even gotten dressed today?" She chided, walking over to him and lightly snapping the waistband of his trackpants. Jacob yelped and jumped back as the elastic waist hit his skin.

"I am dressed!" he said in a mock-defensive tone. Renesmee rolled her eyes.

"You're La Push dressed… Cullen compound dressed. You are not New York dressed."

"You sound suspiciously like a certain tiny, bloodsucking thorn in my side," Jacob said, flopping backwards onto one of the couches, "and therefore, I am chosing to ignore you." Renesmee smirked.

"Yeah. That'll last." She strode into the kitchen, opening the fridge and noting with satisfaction that the steaks were marinating in a large corningware dish. She pulled them out and set about readying the indoor grill. "I'm famished… are you ready to eat?" Jacob's response was a low-pitched growl. "Ok, dumb question. Potatoes? I'm thinking yes."

"Yes." Renesmee pulled out four potatoes (one for herself, two for Jake, one for hashbrowns in the morning) some oil and the tin foil, and started wrapping.

Some forty minutes later, their small kitchen table was spread with a small feast of red meat and carbohydrates. Renesmee put her hands on her hips and grinned proudly. "Not too shabby, all things considered," she said. Jacob, who was already splitting open his potato and slathering it in butter, paused to give her a thumbs up.

"My compliments to the chef," he said, making the first cut into his steak. Renesmee grabbed her steak knife and took a small piece of her own steak into her mouth, chewing slowly. She sighed around her food, which was admittedly quite delicious. Eating wasn't so bad, once you got past the disturbing range of textures. At first, her parents had tried really hard to give her a balanced diet, but eventually she proved so difficult about eating human food, and gave such convincing arguments as to why she should be allowed to dine with her family, that they'd caved in and let her hunt with them instead more often than not. The result was that she preferred to avoid non-liquid foods, except when present company made it impossible or difficult. But now she was living a mostly-human life, and she thought she'd better start eating as such. Renesmee made a conscious note to try eating a more diverse selection of foods. She was sure that, in time, she'd get over her squeamishness. It would just take a little work.

She realized with a jolt that Jacob had been talking to her, and now he was looking at her with a fond, amused expression, waving a hand in front of her eyes. "Sorry," she said, "Just spaced out for a minute." Jacob rolled his eyes.

"No kidding. What's going on in there?" He said, reaching across their small feast and tapped her lightly on her forehead. Renesmee cracked a smile.

"Just thinking about food," she said, taking another, much larger, bite of steak. Jacob's laugh was loud and enthusiastic.

"Now you're speaking my language," He said around a mouthful of potato. "God this is delicious."

"It's not bad," Renesmee said. She almost reached for the sour cream, and then thought better of it. Baby steps, she mentally reminded herself.

"So, how was school?" Jacob asked casually. Renesmee brightened.

"It was fantastic! My lectures were great, and the profs all seem really knowledgeable. Nobody seemed to notice my age, so I think I must've fit in pretty convincingly. And I made a friend." At that, Jacob looked over at her with an almost goofy grin.

"See, I told you people'd love you! What's she like?"

Renesmee snickered into her glass of water. "She is a very nice BOY named Rideau," she said mockingly. "We had Physical Artifacts together."

Jacob's expression had gone completely blank. "You had what with this boy?"

Renesmee rolled her eyes. "Physical Artifacts in Cultural Anthropology. It's my first class, Jake. I sat next to him, we chatted a bit before class, and then we went and got coffee. He's really nice, and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm totally normal. Anyway, he seemed to like me, which is what friends are supposed to do, right?"

"Of course he likes you," Jacob retorted, and it didn't exactly sound like a compliment. Renesmee furrowed her brow and fixed her friend with a searching look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She said, suddenly feeling a bit miffed at Jacob. "The way you're acting, you'd think it's a crime for someone to be friendly towards me."

Jacob let out a loud breath that was almost a sigh and set his fork down, a first for him, considering the amount of food left on his plate. "Look, Nessie… you've gotta be careful making friends with guys here. These New York guys, they're different than most of the men you've met in your life…"

"If by that, you mean I'm related to most of the men I've met in my life, then yeah, you're probably right."

Jacob shook his head. "Look, I know you're not completely without experience where guys are concerned—"

"Gee, thanks."

"—but this is a whole different world. I just want you to be careful… you're a really, um, attractive girl, and I know the way guys minds work." He shrugged. "I don't want to have to break any skulls. Too messy."

Renesmee felt herself ease up at Jacob's joke, and she could tell that he'd picked up on her defensive attitude and decided to back off. That was one of the things she liked most about her best friend: he had a way of figuring out when she'd gone on point and course-correcting so as to steer them away from unpleasant territory. She knew she could be emotional and irrational sometimes, and wondered if Jacob ever felt like he was working for the bomb squad when he dealt with her moods. But the fact remained that, in this case, she was totally justified in feeling a bit put out. She decided she needed to spell things out for Jacob before they were done with this line of discussion.

"Look, Jake," she said, staring him straight in the eyes, "I know all about how boys think. I've spent enough time around you and the wolves and my uncles to have it at least partially figured out. And seriously? I can handle myself. Besides, not every guy is just looking to bang as many women as he can," Jacob flinched visibly at her use of the word 'bang'. She gave him her most charming smile. "I know you're just trying to look out for me. But this guy is really nice, and we have a lot in common. We talked about school stuff, and our families. He's the first human friend I've made in a long time, maybe ever, who I could actually have a real, intelligent conversation with about stuff I'm interested in. And besides, I'm sure he's not interested in me in that way. He wasn't hitting on me, or acting weird and sweaty and twitchy. He was just nice. Boys and girls can be friends without having sex with each other all the time." She raised an eyebrow at him and gestured between them. "Case in point."

"That's…" Jacob paused and found a spot on the table that was evidently very interesting, "That's very true." He looked back up at her and smiled, that big goofy wolf-grin that sometimes made Renesmee's heart turn over in a warm, happy way. "So," he said in a tone that clearly indicated they were putting the topic to rest, "What's the plan for tomorrow?"

They ate the rest of their dinner while engaging in companionable, happy chatter, making plans for some shopping and exploring in between Renesmee's morning and nighttime classes. By the time they had the dishes washed and put away, the conversation was all but forgotten.

For the time being, anyway.

In the next Chapter:

"Okay, now we have to try something I want to do," he said. Renesmee caught sight of his mischievous expression and looked suddenly leery.

"Oh—kay," she said slowly, "What is it?" Jacob took her hand in his and pulled her along the sidewalk.

"This," he said, coming to a stop. Renesmee's eyes went as round as dinner plates.

"Nope," she said firmly. "Nuh-uh, No way."