Charlie cleared his throat in that way he did when he was about to announce something important but wished he did not have to.
Bella and Mame stood on the porch, rain misting the air lightly, when Charlie gestured toward the driveway.
Sitting there was an old red Chevy truck. Faded paint. A little rust around the edges. Solid in the way things built to last usually were.
Bella blinked. "Is that…?"
"Billy Black's old truck," Charlie said. "He doesn't need it anymore. Figured you could use something reliable."
Bella stared at it for a moment, then smiled. Really smiled. "I love it."
Mame squinted at the truck, then looked at Charlie. "Wow. This is clearly favoritism, don't you think, Mr. Black?"
Charlie frowned. "What?"
Billy's voice carried from the sidewalk as he rolled closer in his chair. "If you're a Swan now," he said dryly, "you can just call me Uncle."
Mame turned immediately. "Okay, Uncle."
Billy snorted.
Bella laughed, surprised at how easily it came.
Jacob Black stood nearby, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, already mid-story. "You remember the mud pies we used to make by the garage? She used to swear they were edible."
Bella rolled her eyes. "I was six."
"You still tasted them," Jacob said.
Mame watched the exchange with quiet interest, noting how relaxed Bella looked all of a sudden. The truck. The teasing. The familiarity.
She fit here more than she thought.
That night, though, sleep did not come easily for Bella.
Rain tapped against the window without pause. Forks did not sleep quietly. It whispered. Constantly. Bella stared at the ceiling, anxiety curling tight in her chest.
New town.New school.Being the new girl again.
Down the hall, Mame noticed the light still on beneath her door. He paused, then spoke softly through the hallway.
"You know," he said, not knocking this time, "I can always be weirder than you at school."
Bella blinked in the dark. "That's your plan?"
"Absolutely," Mame replied. "You blend in. I distract."
She smiled into her pillow. "Thanks."
Morning came gray and early.
Breakfast was quiet but warm. Charlie drank his coffee. Bella picked at toast. Mame ate like someone who trained daily and forgot hunger until it demanded attention.
Charlie stood and grabbed his jacket. "Good luck today," he said to Bella, then glanced at Mame. "And you. Look out for her."
Mame nodded. "Always."
Bella headed for the door first, eager to avoid attention. As she stepped outside, her foot caught on the edge of the porch.
She stumbled forward.
A hand caught her arm instantly.
Mame steadied her with practiced ease. "Careful."
Bella exhaled. "Thanks."
"First save of the school year," he said lightly.
Forks High School loomed out of the mist like it had been waiting.
Bella parked the truck carefully. As she and Mame stepped out, she became aware of it immediately.
Eyes.
Students paused. Conversations slowed. Heads turned.
Newcomers.
Mame adjusted the dark purple hoodie he wore, the color standing out just enough to draw attention without trying. He noticed the looks and leaned slightly toward Bella.
"Told you," he murmured. "I'll take the weird."
Bella glanced around, heart pounding, then nodded.
Everyone was watching.
And September had officially begun.
The front office smelled like paper, toner, and faintly of coffee that had been reheated too many times.
Bella stood a little stiff beside the counter, hands folded around the strap of her bag. Mame leaned casually against the wall next to her, already holding his own schedule, eyes quietly scanning the room.
"Bella Swan," the receptionist said, smiling politely as she slid a paper across the counter. "Here's your class schedule. Lockers are assigned at the end of the hall. If you need anything, just let us know."
"Thank you," Bella said, taking it carefully.
Mame glanced at it briefly. "Looks about right."
Bella looked at him. "You already got yours?"
"Yeah," Mame said. "Paperwork perks."
The receptionist raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
As they turned away from the counter, a soft click echoed behind them.
Mame stopped.
So did Bella, though she was not entirely sure why at first.
Mame turned slowly.
A student stood a few feet away, camera held up awkwardly, camera still pointed in their direction. The kid froze when he realized he had been noticed.
Mame walked over calmly.
"Hey," he said, voice quiet but firm.
The kid swallowed. "I was just—"
Mame took the camera smoothly from his hand.
The student blinked. "Hey—"
"If you're taking pictures of new students," Mame said evenly, "you ask."
He stepped back toward Bella, handed the camera back, and positioned himself beside her. Not touching. Just present.
Then he looked at the kid.
"Now," Mame said, smiling without warmth, "take another one."
The kid hesitated.
Mame did not stop smiling.
The kid lifted the phone, snapped a quick picture, then turned and ran. Actually ran. Down the hallway, nearly colliding with a teacher coming around the corner.
Bella stared after him, then slowly looked up at Mame.
He smiled at her, completely relaxed. "See? Polite communication."
Bella blinked. "You're terrifying."
"Only when necessary," he replied.
They headed down the hall together.
Teachers glanced up as they passed. Polite smiles. Curious eyes. A few longer looks that lingered just a second too long, as if trying to place Mame somewhere familiar and failing.
"New students?" one teacher asked kindly.
"Yes, ma'am," Mame said.
"Well, welcome to Forks High," she replied. "Let me know if you need help finding anything."
Bella nodded. "Thank you."
As they walked on, Bella leaned closer and whispered, "You didn't have to do that."
Mame shrugged. "People should ask."
She looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Still. Thanks."
Mame's smile softened slightly. "Anytime."
The bell rang, sharp and loud, echoing through the halls.
Schedules in hand, eyes on them from every direction, Bella Swan and Mame Swan stepped forward into the current of students.
Forks High School had officially noticed them.
And it would not forget.
They stood in the hallway outside Bella's first classroom, the bell echoing through the building.
Bella glanced down at her schedule again. "We don't have anything together."
Mame nodded. "Yeah. Looks like it."
She hesitated. "I'll be fine."
"I know," Mame said easily. "Just survive until lunch. I'll find you."
Bella gave him a look. "You make it sound dangerous."
"First day always is," he replied. "You've got this."
He waited until she stepped inside and found a seat before turning away, hands in his hoodie pockets, already shifting his focus to his own schedule.
Mame's classes passed quietly at first.
English. History. Math.
Teachers were polite, curious in that professional way that suggested they had already heard about him through the staff grapevine. The name Swan drew a few looks. His calm answers and lack of attitude seemed to settle them quickly.
By the time he reached Art, the room smelled faintly of paint and paper.
The teacher, a woman with wire-frame glasses and paint smudges permanently embedded in her fingers, looked up as he entered.
"You must be our new student," she said. "Mame Swan, correct?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Welcome. Take the seat in the back next to Miss Cullen."
Mame glanced toward the back of the room.
A petite girl with short, dark hair was already waving enthusiastically, her smile bright enough to cut through the gray light filtering in through the windows.
Without thinking, Mame stopped walking and blurted out, "Is that a pixie?"
The room went silent.
Then the girl laughed. Not offended. Delighted.
"I like him already," she said.
A few students snickered. The teacher sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Mr. Swan. Please take your seat."
"Yes, ma'am," Mame said quickly, cheeks warming slightly as he walked toward the back.
The girl leaned closer as he sat down. "I'm Alice Cullen," she said cheerfully.
"Mame Swan," he replied.
Her eyes flicked to him with sudden interest. "Bean Swan?"
He blinked. "You know Japanese?"
She tilted her head, smile still firmly in place. "Something like that."
Mame studied her for a second, then smiled back. "Good to know."
Alice's grin widened, as if she had just confirmed something important.
Art class resumed, pencils scratching softly against paper, rain tapping against the windows. Mame focused on the assignment, but he could feel it.
The subtle weight of being noticed.
Not by the room.
By the girl beside him.
And somehow, he suspected this seat assignment was not an accident.
The teacher clapped her hands lightly to get the class's attention.
"Alright, everyone," she said, scanning the room. "Since we're already well into the term, we're moving forward with the main projects."
A few groans rippled through the room.
She continued without sympathy. "Most of your grade will come from two pieces. The first is a portrait of your seatmate. The second is a collaborative painting you'll complete together."
She glanced pointedly toward the back of the room. "So choose your conversations wisely. You're allowed to discuss for the rest of the class."
A beat.
"And yes," she added, "that means you too, Mr. Swan and Miss Cullen. Good luck."
Alice's eyes lit up instantly.
Mame turned slightly in his seat. "Well," he said quietly, "guess we're painting each other."
"Fun," Alice replied brightly. "I call dibs on not making you look scary."
"Unfortunate," Mame said. "That's my best feature."
She laughed again, light and musical, then leaned her elbow on the desk. "So. New guy. Tell me about yourself."
Mame considered that. "That's a dangerous question."
"I like dangerous," Alice said.
He smiled faintly. "Name's Mame. Moved here recently. Training enthusiast. Apparently intimidating to photographers."
Alice's grin widened. "Oh, that was you?"
"Allegedly."
She tilted her head, studying him in a way that felt curious but not invasive. "You don't act like someone who just moved."
"Neither do you," Mame replied.
Her smile flickered, then returned. "Touché."
He glanced around the room, noticing several students openly staring at him now. Some whispered. Some did not bother hiding it.
He leaned closer to Alice and murmured, "Did I do something?"
Alice followed his gaze, then shrugged lightly. "You're new. That's probably it."
"Only that?" he asked.
"For now," she said.
He accepted that answer, though something about it felt incomplete.
"And you?" he asked. "Alice Cullen. What should I know?"
She tapped her pencil against her chin. "I like art. Fashion. Predictable things."
"Predictable," Mame repeated, amused.
"And I don't like boring people," she added, eyes flicking back to him.
Mame smiled. "Good. I'd hate to disappoint on day one."
The room slowly returned to its low hum of conversation, though the looks toward the back never fully stopped.
Mame picked up his pencil and began sketching lightly, eyes occasionally flicking to Alice's profile. She noticed immediately.
"Careful," she said softly. "You're going to have to paint me later."
"Research," he replied. "Very serious."
Alice laughed again.
And somewhere between pencil strokes and quiet conversation, Mame had the distinct feeling that this class, and this girl, were not going to be simple.
Mame had been sketching for a while before he realized something had changed.
At first, it was just shapes. Light lines. Guesswork. He studied Alice's profile carefully, the sharp line of her jaw, the way her eyes seemed to catch light even in a gray room.
Then it clicked.
Not dramatically. Not all at once.
His hand steadied. His strokes became deliberate. Proportions made sense instead of feeling guessed. He adjusted angles without erasing, instinct guiding the pencil instead of trial and error.
A faint, familiar sensation stirred at the edge of his awareness.
A transparent window flickered briefly into view, only for him.
Skill Acquired
Drawing (Basic)Description:You now understand fundamental proportions, line control, and basic shading. Improvement accelerates with practice and observation.
Mame blinked once.
"Oh," he murmured.
Alice tilted her head. "Oh what?"
"Nothing," he said quickly. "Just… figured something out."
He continued sketching, refining the profile with calm confidence. When he finally paused, Alice leaned over to look.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"That's… actually really good," she said. "You said you were new at this."
"I am," Mame replied honestly. "Just a fast learner, I guess."
She studied the sketch again, then glanced at him sideways. "You're full of surprises, Mame Swan."
He smiled faintly. "So I'm told."
The bell rang moments later, sharp and final. Chairs scraped back, students gathering their things. The room filled with movement and noise again.
As Alice packed up, Mame hesitated, then spoke quietly. "Hey. If you have any classes with Isabella Swan… Bella."
Alice paused. "Charlie's daughter?"
"Yeah," Mame said. "She's my… sister. Sort of. She's nervous today. First day and all."
Alice's smile softened. "I'll keep an eye out."
"Thanks," Mame said. "I appreciate it."
They stood as the last students filtered out.
"See you next class, Bean Swan," Alice said cheerfully.
He groaned. "You're never letting that go, are you?"
"Absolutely not," she replied, already halfway out the door.
Mame shook his head, amused, and gathered his things.
As he stepped into the hallway, surrounded again by curious glances and whispered conversations, he felt it clearly.
This was only the beginning.
And somehow, art class had just become one of the most dangerous places in Forks High.