A/N: to clear a few things up: 1, the cullens ARE NOT dead. The sooner you review, the sooner they come back. Two: since Chief McKenzie couldn't find any relatives, he gave the twins to his cousin's wife's sister, some relation like that. Kayla and Luke appear thirteen and they are only eight. They know nothing of the fact that they are not human; all they know is their real parents died in a fire when they where two. They grew up in San Diego, CA, and are now moving to Forks, Washington. Everything will be written how they see it, not how it really is. Three: POV's will switch off between Luke and Kayla. Four: even though this is like the year 2096 or something, we're going to pretend like they have the same technology there is now. It just makes my life so much easier.

San Diego, CA

Luke's POV

My bed was safe. Safe, warm, and lazy. Outside my bed, things were dangerous. At least, that's what I tried to convince my Mom. I suppose you should know that she's not really my Mom, she's my foster Mom, but she's been my Mom since I was two, when my whole family was killed in a fire. I don't really remember it all that well, and, to be honest, I don't care. I like my life just the way it is. But it's not staying like this for long. I'm thirteen, I've lived my whole life in San Diego, and now I'm moving to a little town called Forks, Washington. Never heard of it? Neither have I. apparently it's some town in the Olympic Peninsula that nearly always rains. I'm so not going to enjoy this.

"Luke!" That's my Mom. She's the one who wakes me up every morning, whether I like it or not. Usually not.

"I'll get him." That's my twin sister, Kayla. I've called her Kay and she's called me Lu since before I can remember. It's really weird between us, we almost feel like we're telepathic sometimes and we can almost always feel what the other is feeling, especially if we're touching. We're as identical as twins can get, being fraternal. I suppose I'm lucky to have a nice twin; more than half of the kids I know hate their twin siblings. Though we argue, we'll always be there for each other.

I hear footsteps in the hallway. That can't be Kay, she's quiet as a mouse. It must be my little brother, Jaymee. He's seven, and just about the most annoying thing in the world.

"Oof!" Yep, it's Jaymee. He just jumped on me, and I think I'll suffocate if he doesn't get up.

"Get up, lazy butt!" he sang with excitement. Nothing thrills Jaymee more than bothering me, even if he gets in trouble.

"Who sent you?" I mumbled, stuffing my face into my pillow. He didn't answer; I kicked him. Still didn't answer.

Three...two...one... "YAH!" I shouted, throwing him off me. he ran off to another room, to tattle probably. I know I'll be in trouble for that, but it was worth it to get two more minutes of peace.

"Get up, Lu," Kay breathed, her mouth over my ear.

I moaned and flipped away from her.

"Fine," she said, "but today's that last day you get to go surfing before we move on Saturday. She glided out of the room with inhuman grace. The second she was gone, I was up.

Of course! We were moving in three days to the rainiest place in the country. I should surf while I still have the chance. In less than three minutes (new record) I was out the door and flying down the street. As I went, I looked at the town of La Jolla (pronounced "la hoya"), committing it to memory. We had lived across the street from the beach forever, I went to school on the beach, I practiced soccer and track on the beach I wore shorts all year round, I surfed all year round. The beach was my home: what would I do without this place? I didn't want to find out.

I surfed all day. Day in, day out, that's my motto. I rode every wave as if it would be my last. Who knew? It might be.

Just as it was starting to get dark, Kay came down to the beach and called me in. I took a deep breath and left the ocean. I would be spending the next two days finishing up packing. I doubted I would get out again.

Three days later, after I had exchanged my summer clothes for winter ones and sold my surfboard, I was on a plane, heading to Forks. When we arrived, my attitude matched the weather. Cloudy and rainy. Shocker. The only I was looking forward to in Forks was something Mom had told me before we left. Forks was the town I had lived in before my parents had died. The ruins of the building we had lived in were still here. Mom and Dad said they would even take us to the cemetery, if we wanted. I agreed. Kay did, too, after a little hesitation.

We started school a week later. Forks High School was home of the Spartans (how stupid is that), and my own personal hell on earth. Besides the whole rain thing, it was cold. I wasn't used to being cold, I wasn't used to not seeing the sun. I didn't like wearing long sleeves and a jacket every time I wanted to go outside. It was weird.

Kay had always been less sporty than me, though she was just as coordinated and athletic. She knew how to surf, but didn't like to, she ran track, be didn't enjoy it, and she played soccer, which she was always unenthusiastic about. Her idea of fun was curling up on the beach with a book. Fun.

It was only here in Forks that I realized how different we really were. What had seemed natural at home was weird and strange here. Like, Kay and I had really good hearing and eyesight, were really smart, had unbelievable grace, and were amazing at sports of any kind. We could were faster, stronger, our skin was harder, we had hotter skin temperatures, and everything about seemed to scare people away. I had never had this problem in La Jolla.

The first few weeks of schools were a blur. We stuck to ourselves, excelling in all our classes and easily making the sports teams. Life was so easy, it was boring. We finished unpacking three weeks in, and Mom and Dad took us to the cemetery. This is where my life gets exciting.

The drive to the graveyard was boring (shocker) and I was really depressed, coming here. It was just a depressing place, plus the whole "my parents died when I was a baby and our buried here" thing.

We didn't really know what we were looking for, Mom told us our name had been Cullen, when I saw the most amazing stone.

It was white marble, old but refined, as though people cleaned it regularly. There were ten smaller stones circled around the big one which read CULLEN. My throat suddenly felt dry and tears were coming out of my eyes. This was impossible. I didn't cry. Never.

Without me saying a word, Kay was at my side. See what I mean about the telepathic? It can be a pain at times, but right now it was really helpful. Looking for something to distract myself with, I gazed at the little markers, and read them through blurry eyes.

The names on the stones read: Emmett; Rosalie; Jasper; Alice; Carlisle; Esme; Isabella; Edward; Jacob; Renesmee.

I was weirded out. That last name looked familiar to me, though I hadnever seen it before in my life. But I knew, just by looking at it, that this was the grave of my mother. I almost felt as if she were speaking to me from the dead, dragging me under. Blinking back tears, I scanned the names, wondering who my father could have been—Jacob. I was sure of it.

I could hold back no longer. I sobbed and cried my eyes out, leaning on Kay the whole time. When I was done, I looked at her; she gazed back in sadness, and then she started to cry. I don't know how long we were there, going back and forth—one crying, the other supporting—but it was dark.

"It's a real shame," she started out of the blue. "Besides our parents, there were our grandparents"—she pointed to Isabella and Edward—"our great-grandparents"—Carlisle and Esme—"our godmother"—Rosalie—"her husband"—Emmett—"and our aunt and uncle"—Jasper and Alice—"look Lu, we had a whole family." How she could know all that was beyond me, but I knew it was true also. I felt as if I was on the verge of a boatload of memories. I had two years worth of life with these people, surely I could remember them—but I kept coming up blank.

"Come on," I sniffed. "We have school, tomorrow."

She gave me a watery smile, glad that I was taking charge, and we left.

Now, if you thought that was the end of our graveyard experience, you are sadly mistaken. As we were leaving, the strangest people came up to us. They seemed to glitter, as if the sun was throwing rainbows on them. I looked up at the sky for proof of this theory, but the sun was hardly there, just poking out beneath the clouds.

They moved with surprising speed and agility, and walked right past us as if they didn't even notice us. But the strangest thing about them was that they were gorgeous. Two girls, maybe sixteen, seventeen, so totally opposite yet exactly the same. One was tall with poufy black hair that was tied casually back though she looked like a model. The other was much shorter, with pine colored hair (the dead kind) and again, casual but beautiful. Wait—what was I thinking! I'm a thirteen year old guy, I'm not even interested in girls yet, thanks to my sister. The second I allowed my eyes to glance away from them for a second, I was drawn back to them. Their eyes were a strange butterscotch color, their skin was pale, and they had faint bruise-like shadows under their eyes. They walked straight towards the Cullens' grave, put two flowers on the headstone of Carlisle, turned around, and bumped into us.

Their skin was hard, just like mine, but it was cold. The short one looked at me, and vanished. The taller one sighed, murmured something clearly we weren't supposed to hear, but sounded like, "Wolves, what next?" She glanced at me, then at Kay, who I had forgotten about until now, turned and raced after the short girl.

Kay looked at me, I looked at her, and we both laughed out loud for no apparent reason. Maybe it was the idea of making peace with our family, maybe it was adjusting to life, maybe it was the sudden lack of tension, maybe it was the strange girls, or maybe it was something else. Either way, Forks was about to get a lot more interesting.