Chapter Text
Starting a new school is like a game to the Cullens. Not unlike DND (which they tried playing once, but Jacob kept purposefully trying to throw the plot off track because it made Nessie laugh), but not like it either. They don’t take on personas or quests beyond trying to blend in. Trying to act like modern teenagers (which Bella had told them they failed rather spectacularly at, but it hasn’t caused them trouble so far so why fix what isn’t broken?)
Starting a new school is like playing the lottery for Alice: she never knows what sort of lovely reward the new area will bring to her.
The week before the Cullens move to their new home, Alice has a vision in three parts.
One: Nessie. Nessie blocks her, so she isn’t in the vision itself. But oh, Alice knows she’s there. That it’s about her. She sees a young girl of eleven (twelve in six weeks!) running around their home, screaming with laughter. Playing with Rosalie. Asking what it’s like to be a vampire. What is it like to be more than human? If she can come over to play every day after school with her new friend. Alice also sees her saying she’s not allowed to come over anymore. To never speak to Nessie again.
Two: Rose. Rosalie is in bloom. A beautiful glow surrounds her already ethereal appearance: she’s smiling, waltzing around the house–Humming songs under her breath. Being nice to strangers. She is miserable. On her knees, hands curled up into fists, venom coming out of her eyes. She’s in love and it is beautiful and horrible all at once. Rosalie is forever nineteen and her beloved is sixteen. A child. Unaware of the sufferings of eternal life.
Three: her parents. The only mother and father she remembers and will ever know. They ache the most in this vision. Knowing that the other is in agony, knowing that their morals cannot be broken. Not without consequences. That the object of their desires lies behind a veil they cannot trespass easily. If at all. She’s beautiful, she looks like a mother. Smiles like one. Cares like one. How easily she’ll fit into the threads of their family.
How easily they’ll all fit into the tapestry that is the Cullens.
Alice sees the future that will happen if she doesn’t do anything to help. If she stands aside and lets her family suffer. Her niece, her sister, her parents.
Alice Cullen smiles like she just won the lottery, opening up her planner and scribbling furiously. Underneath her, Jasper glances at his lap: her mood bringing a sudden pep to his step.
“See somethin?”
Alice turns her head to look up at him, “How do you feel about pasodoble?”
-
Jasper, as it turns out, is a natural.
Now to bring the rest of the family on board.
Edward is privy to her machinations and is mostly against it, which ruffles Alice’s feathers well and good.
“I had a vision.” She tells them the next morning, all of them gathered around the table (only Jacob and Nessie are eating). “Our family is going to grow by three.”
Esme is the first to react. She’s delighted at the thought of more children. Of a full household with joy and laughter and never an empty nest.
Rosalie is next: she’s worried that Alice is talking about a human. Or worse: multiple humans. That the foreseen family members are not already turned and will put the rest of them at risk. That she’s going to have to deal with another Bella all over again and be the villain of the family once more.
Edward keeps mum. Arms crossed. Not getting involved. Worried. Alice knows him well. His experience with Bella left him cautious about how a new factor will affect his family. His past with Carlisle makes him wary of how their father will react to keeping out of his second mate’s life. His life as a father leaves him worried over any unnecessary heartache his daughter could experience.
But he doesn’t need to worry because Alice has a plan.
Everyone just needs to do exactly as she says.
-
Their new high school is a charter school that’s seen better days. Then again most of the schools they’ve attended (if not all of them) are in the same boat. Buildings not up to code, potholes in the parking lot, and classrooms with more than thirty kids in attendance. Despite this, the local area is surprisingly cozy with everything being within walking distance, and anything further than that only requiring a bike.
Their cars bring a lot of attention.
“This is the kinda town where you could leave your doors unlocked, but uh–” Their guide (part of Ambassador’s Club) scratches their nose, “Well it doesn’t hurt to lock them anyways.”
They’re a nice person, Penelope ‘but call me Penny’. Most humans who meet the Cullens get something akin to the heebie-jeebies or stare with starstruck eyes. Penny is too distracted by trying to do a good job on the tour to focus on how pale or beautiful the lot of them are–Edward knows from reading their mind. It’s a decent enough space, and it’s nice to rest in the thoughts of someone who doesn’t immediately make snap judgments or worse: objectify him.
Emmett compliments Penny on their camo metal tumbler.
Alice wants to see the Arts building first. Rosalie stiffens and excuses herself to the nearest restroom.
Penny is very excited about the Arts building, and their energy is spurred on by Alice, who wants to drag every little detail out of their guide while they have them. Penny tells the Cullens about upcoming performances, after-school clubs, and different skill levels within the various subjects offered.
“Any of you signed up for an art class?” Penny sniffs (Alice foresees Nyquil in her future) “Like, music or drama or photo?”
They all raise their hands, naturally, because Alice wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Runs in the family, huh?” Penny doesn’t think they’re actually all blood-related but is too polite to ask the obvious question. “Well you’ll end up coming here at some point in the week or semester, depending on your schedule, and more than likely, you’ll be taught by Ms. Prieto at some point in time.” A pause, “Wait, shit, Mx. Prieto.”
This was new. Alice blinks. Emmett pipes up, “Mix?”
“Gender neutral way of saying mister or ms. Real California, huh? Don’t tell her I said that.” She’s anxious, suddenly. Concerned or self-conscious about what they might think. “The town’s real don’t ask don’t tell about all that transgender stuff, but Mx. Prieto’s been here so long, nobody minds about what she calls herself. She makes it easy for them to understand.”
Penny’s defensive. Protective. It’s a good sign. Jasper feels no resentment and Edward skims over happy memories of her with the arts teacher.
He then glances over across the corridor, at the end of the hall. “Is that her?”
“Wha? Oh yeah, hey!” Penny waves at a teacher carrying an absurd amount of tote bags stuffed to the brim with what appears to be random junk. “Mx. Prieto, do you need any help?”
The teacher smiles, awkward, touched at being considered, and denies the offer of assistance, looking flustered at being caught in such a state. Alice thinks she looks kind. Bella thinks she looks young.
“Aight!” Penny shouts back, turning back to the group, “Mx. Prieto single-handedly runs the entire Arts department.” They sip from their tumbler (smells like battery acid mixed with blueberries), “It’s both inspiring and fucked up: the school doesn’t hire more people because she does it all herself. No room in the budget for added help, but plenty for those new tv monitors in the halls and gym. Who even stops to read those, anyways?”
Alice stops listening. Or rather, she pushes the conversation to the back of her head as she rests her chin on her fist, arm across her torso. Wondering about the woman her parents would eventually come to love. “What are the after-school activities again?”