First year of school
My first year of school is, ironically, also my last. I am starting school – real school - in 12th grade, a necessity but still a bone of contention between my family and I. Intellectually, I knew I couldn't attend school earlier due to my rapid maturity, it was still a bummer not to have any friends my age. My closest friend (aside form Jake), was probably Claire, who still lived in La Push and was now 10 – she knew my secret – but was also attending La Push Elementary.
I had goaded my family into attending school this year taking both 11th and 12th grade classes and finally had them convinced that not only could I maintain our family secret but manage to take all the classes I needed to graduate. I could finish up my education and then go to university next year. I still didn't know what I wanted to do but I believed half the fun was going to be finding out, besides, if I chose the wrong major I could always change my mind … more than once…living forever has its perks.
I got a used car and my driver's licence right before I started school. Dad had taught me to drive in mom's Ferrari but we both thought I'd blend in better this way. I was more than happy Jake tailored a car just for me. My new birth certificate now said I was 17 – that felt about right. My parent were pretty cool, I thought (damn, Dad would have heard that) - not too many parents would arrange fake ID for their daughter.
School is amazing – I love biology, math, chemistry and physics. English is boring – I read everything on the reading list before I was 9 – I wanted to ask for something new but don't want to draw attention to myself. History – well – I'll just have to remember the teacher's version, writing about vampire wars and the Volturi would likely get me in hot water. I have a few friends and have taken to hanging out at lunch, talking about boys as well as the latest fashions – I had Alice to thank to be able to add my 2 cents for the latter topic anyway. Boys, on the other hand, I didn't have a clue. I wasn't oblivious to the fact that my life had been sheltered, so even though some things about school were going to be easy, meeting boys wasn't going to be one of them.
It wasn't hard remembering my story. I told everyone that I moved here to live with my uncle Edward and aunt Bella, my parents having been hit and killed by a drunk driver (I figured maybe if I could lower the incidents of drunk driving by my classmates, my lie might save lives and absolve me of some guilt I felt lying to new friends). I lived with my 2 aunts and 2 uncles and my grandparents, Esme and Carlisle. As Carlisle was working at Harvard and Esme was doing mega online shopping and decorating for the new house and yard, I was hoping I wouldn't need to explain to my new friends why my grandparents looked uber young. Everyone was sympathetic and accepting of me, not asking me too many questions about where I used to live or about leaving friends to come here, maybe they thought the memories would upset me (I was glad, though knew I wouldn't falter – too many lives depended on the lie). I debated about whether to take gym, but decided it was a good peer bonding activity; I would have to remember to keep my abilities in check. I knew I couldn't join a team, it didn't seem fair to the competition. To make up for it, my family and I still put together the occasional ball game if the weather was right.
Everyone at home was keen to know how school was going and I told them all the gossip every day. I'm glad they decided not to attend High School with me this year, it's fun spreading my wings. Jake and I still hang-out almost every day, we go to the movies, the park, go hunting or just hang-out at the garage – I can change a tire and do an oil change like a pro, Jake even jokes about hiring me!