I managed to sneak into the house temporarily unnoticed as my parents were distracted by the game. The living room door had been left ajar, allowing the flickering glow from the television to spill out into the hallway illuminating my goal, the stairs. I crept further into the house, pausing to hazard a glance at Charlie and Renee. They were in their usual spots; Charlie sat in his chair, Renee sat on the sofa - the end furthest away from him.

Entering my bedroom, I quickly closed the door and for a brief moment considered propping a chair against it to prevent it from being reopened. I really wanted to avoid another confrontation with either Charlie or Renee. Deciding the chair was a bad idea and would certainly only make matters worse, I walked over to the window and waited.

As time passed I rationalised that the anxiety of what was to come would be much worse than the event itself, and I attempted to sidetrack my thoughts. The night was still, and despite being lit by the eerie orange glow of the street lights, the scene below my window looked peaceful. However, the view could not distract me from the events about to unfold within my room as I heard gentle footsteps ascending the stairs. The door opened and Renee entered. I didn't turn to face her.

"Why didn't you call?" There was no anger in her voice, only disappointment, which was worse. In preparation for my feeble defence, I squeezed my eyes shut to trap any cascading tears and inhaled deeply to steady my voice.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise how late it was. Angela and I got talking." My voice cracked, and I hoped she would fall for the lie, but my mom was quite possibly the most perceptive person I knew. When I was younger, my father had joked that she had a sixth sense, and that like himself she should have considered a career in law enforcement since nothing escaped her notice. She didn't like this idea; she had told Charlie that I needed at least one parent to be home at reasonable hours. Charlie resented the jibe, and he never mentioned the idea again.

"Not calling was completely irresponsible, Bella. Your father and I were worried." I remained silent.

"Was Mike there?" The suggestion underlying her words was clear; Renee didn't like Mike. She felt he was no good for me, that he was a distraction and the cause of my recent disruptive behaviour. He was by far the last person she wanted me spending time with. Ironically, if I weren't dating Mike, then they wouldn't have a scapegoat for my recent acts, such as sneaking out, and they might have to look closer to home for the basis of my behaviour. I felt that they knew this; whether this knowledge was conscious or not, I wasn't sure. I was sure, though, that it was for this reason alone that they didn't prohibit me from seeing him altogether.

"Yes...but it isn't his fault. I am sorry".

I wasn't lying this time. Renee and I both knew, however, that I wasn't sorry for hanging out with Mike, and I wasn't particularly sorry for coming in late. Most normal sixteen year olds broke curfew.

The problem was when I broke curfew it resulted in tension between Renee and Charlie. Renee shared my view that some leniency could be allowed on occasion. Nothing serious ever happened in Forks - it was a small town - and, in addition, my dad was the chief of police and had drilled me on how to stay safe since I was two years old. Besides, with his persistence that I "at all times, no exceptions" carried pepper spray in my purse, I was definitely safe.

In contrast to Renee, Charlie did not create rules to be broken and would not tolerate my disregard to his authority. Hence, the divergence in parenting styles created tension, the tension for which I was sorry.

Renee had always been a free spirit, and in many ways, I was just like her. She had never intended to spend her life in Forks. Everyone who knew her felt she was destined for bigger things. Everyone, that was, apart from Charlie. It wasn't that he didn't know that she wanted to travel and experience different things, and it certainly wasn't that he didn't care. Charlie just didn't know how to let go, and so he hadn't.

For sixteen years he had held onto my mom, and she had let him. I was reluctant to admit that the reason she stayed was because of me, although I suspected it was true.

No longer able to avoid her, I turned to face her. Her eyes were wet, and I fought against my own tears that were threatening to overpower me. My chest ached. She didn't know how unhappy I was - no one knew. With Mike and Angela earlier this evening I felt like I was closer to being happy than I had been in a while. Yet, as time drew closer to my curfew, the feeling began to speed away. In recent months, more often than not, my outlook was dark. Tonight, I had just wanted to savour being on the verge of my despair. I twisted my mouth into what I hoped was a reassuring smile and felt my shoulders grow heavier with the knowledge that I couldn't tell her how I really felt.

"You know we worry, that's all," she said as she closed the distance between us and held me to her. I gripped her tightly and gave into my grief, causing Renee to hold me closer. For our part, the worst was over, but in many ways the worst was still to come.

Releasing me, she met my gaze and brushed her finger across my cheek, wiping away stray tears.

"You missed dinner, but I left some in the refrigerator. You can heat it up." She then left my room, closing the door behind her.

"Where was she?" Charlie was waiting in the hallway outside of my room, and he made no attempt to hide the irritation in his voice.

"She was with Mike," Renee explained in a hushed tone. The stairs creaked as she led the conversation downstairs.

"I don't want her seeing him anymore!" The anger in Charlie's voice grew along with the volume.

"Calm down," she instructed. "You're overreacting; she just lost track of time."

"Don't say that. Don't pretend that I'm overreacting, that my fears are an overreaction," he spat the last word.

"Keep your voice down." Renee had more patience than Charlie, but I could tell it was waning.

"You always do this! Make out that I'm the bad guy, I'm the monster. I know you feel the same way. I know you do."

"I am not having this conversation again. When you are ready to speak to me I'll be in the living room."

"Renee don't walk-"

I couldn't listen to them anymore, so I crashed onto the bed, plugging in my earphones in an attempt to drown them out. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the tears to well out.