AN: Hey Everyone! I always found stories about if Edward never came back fascinating, so here is my own take on it. I hope you guys enjoy! Please review if you want to! Its how I grow as a writer! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters.

I've never minded living in Forks. Looking around the town, it might be difficult to see how we could possibly have a population of almost four thousand people, with our main road housing our single stop light within city limits. Occasionally, I'd make the drive to Portland, or even Hoquiam if I had the time to spend in a car like that, just to have something to do. There was no movie theatre or mall or any other normal teenage time waster around here. But, I didn't really mind that. Most of the time, I spent my hours at the coffee shop or at the many different beaches scattered on the western outskirts of Forks to work on my photography skills – or lack thereof.

For the first boring sixteen years of my life, my parents, brother and I lived in a ranch style house near the center of town. After my brother, who was just a year and a few months older than me, had moved out and left to go to Washington State, Mom decided it was time to have a different view when she looked out her window. Admittedly, I was worried that they'd decided to move east, to Seattle, perhaps, like Dad intermittently mentioned from time to time. Or maybe down south, to Portland or even California; that made me shudder. I hated the idea of leaving the Northwest all together the most.

Thankfully, though, Mom wanted to stay in the Olympic Peninsula and Dad didn't mind continuing to make the four hour drive to Seattle's airport. He traveled a lot for work and, if he was desperate, could fly out of Port Angeles when needed.

To my relief at not having to start over at a new high school, my parents found a house just recently put on the market on the outskirts of town. It used to be owned by a man who was the retired police chief before my parents were even born. His daughter apparently never moved into the house after he died, but kept it, hiring workmen to keep it in shape. Sometime after my brother's first birthday, the woman passed away, living to be a hundred and five years old. Her great-granddaughter lived in the house for a while before deciding to sell it and moving her own family to New York, or somewhere that far east. To their delight, my parents were able to get the house well below their budget, leaving plenty of funds for the remodeling.

We moved into the house quickly. I wasn't the biggest fan of having my bedroom just across the hall from my parents, where in our old house they'd been on the complete opposite side of the house. Thankfully, I wouldn't have to share the upstairs bathroom with them since the previous owner had a full bathroom added in on the main floor just off the small living room. Mom volunteered to take that one as theirs. I'm sure it was because we had an agreement to let me decorate any space that was designated as mine however I wanted to. Very proud of how her home was viewed, I'm sure Mom wanted any guests – who were sure to be using the main floor bathroom the most – to see her decorating skills and not mine.

All in all, I liked the two bedroom house from the moment we settled in, even the strange faded yellow cabinets in the kitchen. Removing the paint and giving it a newer, darker finish was the first thing Mom did. I found it disheartening, but unavoidable.

Slowly, over the past several months, Mom repainted and updated the house. It lost a bit of its old world charm to me, but I still loved the two story hide away.

"Sloane! Can you come down here?"

I groaned, throwing my worn copy of Mansfield Park next to me on the bed. The pastel blue cover depicting a large mansion in grassy hills blended in with the old thin quilt my parents had picked up at an estate sale in Olympia a few years ago. It was my favorite.

Slipping of the bed, I made my way down the steps and into the small family room.

Mom and Dad were sitting on the couch next to each other. I didn't panic yet. They often called family meetings for any minor infraction or small disruption to our lives. They were very new age like that.

Without a word, I sat down in the armless tan chair and waited patiently.

"Sloane, honey," Mom started. "We're going to move the renovation process to the upstairs."

I nodded, kind of wishing they hadn't called me down here for this. "What are you going to do?"

"The floorboards need replacing," Dad explained. "We're going to hopefully start in two weeks or so, as soon as your mother picks the type of wood she wants. We're going to be doing the replacing ourselves, so we'll need your help."

"Okay," I nodded again. It made sense for us to do the work ourselves. There wasn't exactly a contractor just down the road that they could hire and bringing one up to Forks would be more costly than it was worth. "That's fine."

My own floorboards were looking a little pathetic. The only retouching my room had received was a new paint job for the walls. Mom wanted to paint it light purple or maybe a soft yellow, but I liked the pale blue walls, so we matched the color as close as we could to give it new life and even on cloudy days I could look at my walls and see a piece of the sky.

Since there was nothing else that needed to be discussed, I was allowed to go back to my room. I stood up, told my parents good night and headed up the stairs. The rhythm of my reading was disrupted, so I picked up the book and placed it in my backpack for school tomorrow. My homework was done and not a single movie or TV show seemed interesting enough for me to watch. The only choice seemed to be to sit in my chair and stare out the window, watching the woods.

It all fascinated me. The impossibly tall yet thin trees, the moss that seemed to cover anything that stood still long enough. For vacations, Dad tended to choose places like New York, Florida, and Texas. All places that were severely lacking the color green. They were civilized, void of real nature. The cities were fine in small doses, but nowhere I could think to live for long durations of time. They were too crowded.

Society and I didn't get along very much. Sure, I had friends that I enjoyed spending time with, but ultimately I was an introvert, preferring solitude and time to recharge my batteries that went dead very quickly around people. Living in a small town where the closest city was at least an hour or so away was my perfect habitat.

Slowly, but surely, the sun began to disappear behind the trees. Seeing a beautiful scene begging to be captured, I swiped my camera off the desk and turned it on. I threw open the window and leaned out, careful not to lean too far out so my clumsiness could make me slip. Taking pictures from different angles and zooming in and out, I caught almost every second of the sunset until the sun was gone. Hopefully I'd been able to take at least one photo worth keeping.

I decided to take a shower before I went to bed, yanking my jeans off before exiting my room. I took a towel out of the hall closet and crossed over to the bathroom. Mom and Dad were still downstairs discussing the pros and cons between real wood and laminate flooring.

After removing my shirt and underwear, I stood in the bathroom and waited for the water to heat up. Our house was always relatively warm, but the beads of hot water felt amazing, warming and massaging the knots in my back.

I lingered in the shower, letting my mind focus on the two people downstairs responsible for my existence.

There was very little room between them on the couch and they were leaning in to each other. So, they'd made up.

Mom and Dad didn't fight often, and never in front of my brother and me, so I have no idea had what this latest tiff had been about, but it must have been a bad one, the fallout having lasted over the past several days. Whatever it was, I was relieved it hadn't been too serious. Dad looked more rested now, like he had slept in their room rather than on the couch. They probably thought they were being careful, waiting for me to go to bed before he stretched out on the sofa to go to sleep, but I knew. At least it was over now.

Once my hair was washed and conditioned and my legs smooth and hairless, I turned off the water and stepped out of the tub, wrapping the fluffy blue towel around me. The cool air drifting in from under the door gave me goosebumps, a shiver running up my spine. My teeth chattered quietly as I ran to my room, clothes in hand. I dried off as quickly as I could, slipping a thin Forks High School hoodie over my head and fresh underwear.

Outside was now pitch black, save for the porch light. My phone told me it was only about eight-forty. A little early to be going to bed. Shrugging, I turned off my light and shuffled myself under the sheets and my favorite quilt.

Tossing and turning, I tried to get comfortable. I just wasn't tired enough to really go to sleep. My mind wandered, thinking of possible photo ideas and if every math problem on my homework was really done. After what seemed like hours, but was probably only thirty minutes, I fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning before my alarm went off, fully rested. This allowed me to take more time to get ready than I used did, contemplating each piece of clothing separately. Eventually, I settled on a long sleeved purple shirt and dark green jeggings with knee high boots. I wasn't exactly Miss Fashion Forward, but I liked to be a little bit presentable. I kept my makeup light and threw my hair up in a lazy knot on the top of my head.

Exiting my room, the smell of bacon hit my nostrils, making my stomach rumble. Grabbing my backpack I hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Mom was making breakfast. Not a completely new sight, but it'd become less regular as Mick and I had gotten older and able to fend for ourselves. I made no mention of this as I sat down at the breakfast island, pouring myself a glass of orange juice that Mom had left out.

"Well, look who who's up and rearing to go this morning," she sang, looking up from the eggs that were sizzling on the stove top. Mom was always more of a morning person than the rest of us. She never had a problem getting up out of bed, singing whatever really old song popped into her head that day.

I shrugged. "I went to bed early last night; body woke me up." If I had my way, I'd sleep in every day until ten. I loved sleep. Dreaming even more. Anything was possible in the much better world of my head.

The toaster made me jump when it sprang up the now crisp bread. Mom suppressed a laugh as she buttered the toast and put it on a plate, adding eggs and bacon before placing it in front of me. Immediately, I dug in. This beat soggy cereal any day.

Making a plate for herself, Mom sat across from me.

"Excited for school today?" she asked, just trying to make conversation.

I shrugged again. "I mean, it's Monday. Just starting the count down until the weekend." Now that I was excited for. The guys and I were supposed to be exploring a new trail down near the Sol Duc Falls. That is, if they didn't cancel on me. Again.

"Don't wish for it to go too fast," she warned. "You'll miss these days soon enough." Uh-oh. Mom was getting that misty-eyed, "how'd you get so grown" look on her face.

"I know, Mom," I nodded sympathetically, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. It was time to subtly change the subject. "I'm just excited for Saturday. We're going to try hiking a new path."

The water was gone from her eyes as her entire face lit up.

"Oh! Is EJ going with you?"

A huff escaped my lips. Perhaps this was the wrong road to steer down. "As far as I know." My sudden irritation was twofold.

The first was because if Mom could arrange my marriage, EJ would be the groom. She'd fawned over him since I first brought him home. We'd met after I went on a trip to Second beach with some school friends. With a love of hiking in common, we'd hit it off and the reservation became my second home. Mom's pushiness got even worse once EJ hit a growth spurt and started packing on the muscle. He was no longer a gangly kid and it came out of nowhere. I kept teasing EJ that was part of an experiment since a lot of the boys seemed to grow at the same ridiculous rate as him.

My irritation's second half only came into fruition after the ridiculous growth spurt. Lately, EJ had been canceling plans almost as quickly as he made them. Before that, there was about a two week period where he didn't call, text, or contact me in any way at all. Granted, I didn't contact him either after the first week, but I didn't want to be annoying.

When I finally heard from him, things were… different. He kept his distance, never hung out with me alone unless it was a public place, and, well, he was older. Look wise, anyway. We were the same age, but now he looked like he could walk into any bar and order a drink without being carded. For the first two changes, I thought that maybe he'd started seeing a girl form the rez, but Graham, another boy from La Push, said that EJ was still as "single as a Pringle". So, I was still in the dark.

Mindfully, I chewed this over along with the last of my bacon.

"Um, Sloane, honey," Mom pulled me from my thoughts, "you might want to start to head for school."

I looked up at the clock on the oven. "Crap!"

Scrambling, I threw my plate and fork in the dishwasher and kissed Mom goodbye before snagging my blue jacket out of the closet.

"Love you! Thank you for breakfast!"

I jumped up into my little ford and drove into town, careful of the ice that had formed in the night.

The parking lot at school was half full when I arrived. Unwilling to leave the warmth of the cab, I sat in my car for a few more minutes and watched my fellow students pile into the different buildings that held their various first period classes.

Breaking through my silent cocoon, the warning bell told me it was time to go. I braced myself for the cold, turning off my engine, and shuffled to English.

Like always, Abby was sitting near the middle of the classroom, the seat next to her waiting patiently for me. Her corkscrew curls bounced as she turned her head to me, watching me sit down.

"How was your weekend?"

Her curly hair was hard to get used to. Since our friendship's beginning in the sixth grade, Abby had used relaxer to rein her locks in. Recently, she decided she didn't need to do that and they've been running free ever since. I liked the curls. They fit her wide, toothy smile and heart shaped face perfectly.

Not that she needed my validation.

"Boring," I answered her. "I spent both days at home."

She made a face. "EJ canceled again?"

I nodded. We were supposed to just hang out at his place, but "something came up".

Abby's opinion of EJ was slipping farther and farther into the negative zone. She was happy that I had found someone to go into the woods with me. She like the occasional trip to the beach, but long hours of outdoor activities just for fun wasn't really her thing. But now I was being deprived of that joy.

"I'm going to kill him," Abby growled. All five-foot-even of the girl could be scary when she was angry. Though she be but little, she is fierce. Shakespeare would be proud.

I waved her off. "Don't worry about it. If he cancels, I'll just go with the other guys." EJ didn't really like me hanging out with Graham and Alex without him. I figured it was because he didn't want me to be uncomfortable with the two big flirts. Mom had another thought in mind.

Jealousy.

I pushed the thought from my mind. The final bell rang and we each turned to face the front.

English class was my favorite. Well, more like I loved that it was basically an entire hour devoted to the discussion of classic literature. I admired the way people spoke back then, with feeling, using words that were long and complicated, but now tossed to the side for being too pompous.

"Would you say that Dicken's wrote any sympathetic characters in this novel?" Mr. Rosner jumped right into the conversation.

We were studying Great Expectations and, though I liked the novel's storyline, I hated the characters.

I commented softly, "Barely."

He heard me anyway. "Why do you think that, Miss Summers?"

It was easy to keep him happy, just answer his questions and keep the conversation going.

"Joe is the only one who deserves the happiness he got," I replied, leaning forward in my chair. "All he ever did was try to do the right thing and give Pip a chance."

"The guy doesn't have a backbone!" Jackson jumped in from the front row. His dark brown hair was pulled back in a bun today, his red flannel shirt unbuttoned to show off the sarcastic T-shirt he wore underneath. "He let everyone walk all over him."

"But he ultimately was the one who gained happiness without having to go through hell and lose everything beforehand." I countered. "Through Joe we can learn that loyalty and conscience are more important than wealth and advancement." Getting a little too into my argument, I began to talk with my hands more than usual. "Pip has to lean those the hard way, even though he had a great example right in from of him!" My fingers flicked my pencil off the desk. Before it could hit the blue speckled tile, a ghost white hand snatched it out of the air.

Alice Masen sat in the desk in front of Abby. Typically, she sat perfectly still, facing the front of the classroom all hour long. But now her torso was twisted so she was looking at me, my pencil safe in her hand. I took it from her, noticing how careful she was not to touch my skin.

"Thanks," I smiled at her.

She smiled back warmly and nodded before turning back to the front.

The discussion soon shifted to a breakdown of chapters ten through fourteen.

I tried to pay attention, but I kept glancing at the back of Alice's head. She was back at her unnatural stillness. It was like staring at a statue in an art museum. Her classic, impish looks just egged on the comparison.

Suddenly, her shoulders twitched, startling me. I hadn't realized I was watching her so closely that the slight movement was a shock to my system.

The bell rang and, gracefully, she hopped up from her seat and practically skipped out of the classroom.