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A New Aquaintance

My first attempt at Fan Fiction and fiction writing in general. This was my entry for the Spetember Back-to-School challenge on Twilight Novel Novice. The story centers on Bella and the Cullens first day back at school after Breaking Dawn. Told from Bellas POV, the family is attending college at Dartmouth and face the challenges you would expect, and one you may not have. This story earned third place in the contest!


1. Dartmouth

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 1084   Review this Chapter

It truly was the most boring time of day.

After the initial thrill of going to college, adjusting to the longer lectures and somewhat greater freedom of movement, it was, as Edward had warned me, really quite dull.

Sighing on a breath I didn’t need, and remembering to squirm in my seat like my fellow students, though I was perfectly comfortable sitting still, I let my thoughts roam. I didn’t need to pay attention, having finished the course work for this lecture class, English 101, the first week of school. Not requiring sleep could really put you ahead in your studies.

I wondered what Renesmee was doing at home. It wasn’t only my first few days at school; it was Renesmee’s as well. We had decided against putting her in public school. Due to her rapid aging, she now resembled a child of about six, but that same rapid aging would make her appear much too large for her class by the end of the year. If Edward and I wanted to stay at Dartmouth long enough to get bachelors degrees, my first, his somewhere in the double-digits, it would be necessary to keep Renesmee out of the public eye as much as possible.

Instead, she was being home-schooled at our house in Hanover, where we had relocated to that summer. We had moved into the beautiful colonial-style home near the edge of town the week before school started.

Carlisle, with his 200-year head start on learning over the others, was Renesmee’s main tutor, but everyone pitched in on their favorite subjects. From Edward, she learned about music. Emmett was a gym teacher of sorts, always ready for a hike or a race, some of which he even pretended to lose. Rosalie worked with languages; they were currently perfecting Renesmee’s Spanish. Jasper taught strategic planning and warfare. Alice and Esme both worked with math, as their chosen fields, fashion and architecture, both required very precise measurements. If you wanted a dress that didn’t hang crooked or a building that wouldn’t fall down around your ears, anyway. Carlisle probably could have handled everything fine, but the others enjoyed the chance to spend time with Renesmee one-on-one.

She was an eager student, devouring books and information with a veracity that would have stunned any mortal teacher. Her favorite subject, however, wasn’t one anyone in her family could help her with.

Renesmee loved to cook. Several times a week, she and Jacob could be found in the kitchen, surrounded by a royal mess of pots and pans, mixing bowls and spatulas, usually arguing over some ingredient or another. Entirely weaned from the human blood she drank as a baby, Renesmee found the taste of animal blood somewhat unsatisfying and was working on expanding her palate of acceptable human foods. As the only other member of our “family” who would eat human food, Jacob was the logical choice as companion in these culinary explorations. I figured Jacob just liked to be in the vicinity of so much food; as a werewolf, his appetite was somewhat large. He’d eat almost anything though, even the experiments that didn’t end well. I smiled, thinking of the scene I’d come home to the day before.

Jacob and Nessie (yes, the name was a battle I knew I was losing) had been in at the large center island in the kitchen. The room had been entirely remodeled by Esme to include industrial-grade appliances set in a brick-façade along one wall and a flat-screen television mounted high on another. All the walls were painted a cheery light yellow, and the stainless steel of the pot-and-pans hanging from the ceiling rack gleamed in the light from the floor-to-ceiling windows opposite the doorway. After all, no one who couldn’t be exposed to the rare sunny days here really had any reason to be in the kitchen anyway. Even so, all of the windows in this house were outfitted with the same steel shutters as the house in Forks.

This day, Martha Stewart blared on the screen while the two “chefs” - one in a too-small apron and the other on a footstool in order to see over the counter, were having an argument.

“It’s too much! You’ll ruin it,” Nessie flared.

“Oh settle down. A little extra spice will just liven it up a little bit,” Jacob countered, his hand holding a small bottle containing a red powder over the electric mixer bowl.

“It’s a cake! It’s supposed to be sweet, not spicy, stupid!” she screeched back, jumping for the red bottle in his hand and almost toppling the stool over. Jacob deftly caught her before she could fall and noticed me standing in the doorway.

“Oh, hey Bella, how was class?” he said.

“Not nearly as interesting as what seems to be going on here. Who told you to put cayenne pepper in chocolate cake? Not that I’d eat it now anyway, but I don’t think I would have eaten it as a human either,” I joked as I set my book bag down on a chair.

“Well, who said you had good taste in desserts then either? Besides, after that shrimp and sauerkraut combo she foisted off on me last week, I think I deserve a little say in tonight’s menu,” Jacob said, still holding the shaker out of Nessie’s reach.

“Mom, tell him to stop wrecking my food!” Nessie said, climbing back up on her perch.

“Yeah, Mom. What are you gonna do about it?” Jacob grinned at me.

“Ugh. You know I hate it when you call me that, Jacob. Why don’t you just make two cakes? Split the batter and put half in one pan and half in another. Then you can add however much pepper you want to your cake,” I said. Then, looking around at the flour-dusted surfaces and the batter dripping from the edges of the counter and from several measuring cups and spatulas, I added, “What I want to know is who’s going to clean up this mess? If you leave it for Esme again, I’m going to spank you both.”

“Ooohhh, I’m scared,” Jacob said, feigning a look of mock-horror, and flinging a spoonful of chocolate goo in my direction, which I quickly ducked.

“We’ll clean it up Mom. I promise,” Renesmee sighed.

“Goody-goody,” Jacob muttered as I turned to leave.

“I heard that,” I said as I walked back down the hall toward the staircase. Heading up to the spacious room I shared with Edward on the second floor, I thought back on that first day of class - now that had been anything but dull.