Disclaimer: Twilight is the total property of Stephenie Meyer.

Intro Note:

I wrote Waxing Crescent because I wanted to read a Jake/Ness story that fit my conception of Renesmee post-BD. Because what a fascinating character, right? How the hell do you become a proper well-adjusted adult when your dad can read your every thought? when you've never been human? when you're not really a vampire? when you prefer to show your thoughts instead of speaking them? And then there's this whole thing where your hot best friend is your auto-soulmate...

Anyway, the "M-rating" comes from 1. violence 2. foul language 3. limes/lemons. These first several chapters are mostly about establishing Nessie as a character. Be patient, and around chapter six or so, the pace picks up very quickly. (Because in enters the villain.) So read on!

Chapter One – Schooling a Half-Vamp

Bella's Point of View

"Mom, you're limiting me. Without these formative experiences, I'll never grow into a fully actualized adult." Renesmee had both hands on her hips as she looked up at me.

I did not look up from my book. There was no point. "Formative experiences?" I had no idea where she picked up that bit of jargon, possibly from talking to Carlisle... Reminding myself that this behavior was simply normal, I assured her, "You will grow into a fine person, Renesmee."

She glared back at me. "Sorry, mom, but since I'm only a half person to begin with, I don't have high hopes."

I set my book down, taking a deep, calming breath and smiling. "You'll be full grown in only a year, and your father..." I trailed off because the sentence simply did not require completion. Edward would flip.

She shook her head dismissively, though. "Dad can deal. I want to go to school. I want friends. I want to talk with girls my own age. Besides, I've slowed."

I started to turn to leave, but she flew across the room, this time grabbing my wrist and letting the images flash through. Vampire. Human. Werewolf. A seven year old human. A fourteen-year vampire. No connection. No one like her. The odd one. The ugly duckling. She was about to launch into comparison to her favorite Greeks and Russian tragic heroes, but I silenced her.

"Renesmee—enough."

She finally paused. I shook my head and sighed, staring into her eyes.

She'd gotten quite terrible since Jacob had left for Stanford in August. Her growth rate had seemed to really slow for a few months there, and we had been able to convince him he could leave. Of course, soon after he left Nessie had shot up a half foot, and the hormonal flood gates had opened. Her body seemed to have condensed all of the usual pubescent angst into a three month long series of eruptions. Nor did it help that she was more brilliant than any teenage brat should have the right to be. I really could have used Jasper right now. . .

"I want human friends, too. Everyone here has experienced human life except me. The closest I ever had was with Charlie and Sue—but I still can't see Charlie for another decade until my body matches my should-be age."

At the mention of Charlie, I grimaced but pushed aside my memories and forged ahead with a mother's determination. "Human relationships are hard dear. They aren't immortal." She was refusing to look at me now. "Nessie. Why don't I invite Nahuel and his sisters to visit? Especially, Estela—she's pretty much your age."

Nessie rolled her eyes and put a single finger up to my chin, popping an image of one of my grade school photos juxtaposed with a full-grown Estela.

"Oh, come on, Nessie. You know what I mean."

"Mom, I do, but you don't seem to understand what I mean. And I would like to see Nahuel, Estela, and Nulpi. Maybe not so much Lican—but that's beside the point. The point is I want to go to school. I love my family, but I need space, mom. This isn't normal.

"Being a teenager is mortifying enough. Normal girls get embarrassed enough when they start changing, but I live in a household of zero privacy. Everyone in this household knew when I started my period. They could smell it. And while they are sufficiently respectful enough to not comment on that—Emmett can't help himself but make the 'occasional play by play' when I go to the bathroom. Yes, I did think that was funny when I still wearing bows, but it's just moronic now. Let alone being a half-vampire and having your dad hear your every thought, your uncle leave you half-comatose every time you express yourself, your best friend leave you. . ."

At that point, she burst, tears flowing down, and I wrapped her in my arms, letting her sob. "Oh, Nessie. I crooned. "You know all young women go through this stage. I used to blush beet-red every time I had to go in the drug store with Renee to buy the 'lady-things,' as she called them, and Jake will be back soon. It's almost Christmas. Besides, you wanted him to go."

She pulled away from me then. Her jaw was still set, but she was slightly calmed. "Jake is beside the point right now. Mom, I want to go to school." She look to the side and muttered, "And then I'd be able to join Jake at Stanford in a year or two anyway."

I threw my hands up in the air. "Fine, Nessie. No promises, but I will talk to your father—though I won't mention the last part."

She nodded, and as I walked away I couldn't help but notice that she looked rather smug.

Convincing Edward was not as difficult as it might have been. I think he was far more wearied by Renesmee's regular outbursts than I was. Choosing the school, however, was something else.

"We are not sending her to North Spring High. I don't care how close it is. You know she won't learn anything there.

"Oh, Edward." I shook my head in frustration, and picked up another brochure. "And why not St. Mark's? Besides, they have uniforms."

I realized quickly that I should not have said that. Edward released a disgusted growl. Emmett burst into laughter, and Jasper just started shaking his head. Alice stared at me, horrified. I could imagine the word uniform was not in her shopping vocabulary.

"Bella," Emmett choked. "I don't think putting your angelic daughter in a Catholic school girl uniform is going to, eh, help alleviate Edward's fears about teenage boys and his daughter. Now, if you wanted to put on a little tartan print, I'm sure Edward wouldn't..."

He didn't finish his sentence before Edward lobbed a pencil at him—only to be caught by Rosalie as she flitted past. "Honestly, Bella," she chimed, "just send her to Eastwood. Girls-only. She said she wanted girlfriends, right? And then we can mostly eliminate the possibility of Edward butchering an entire population of teenage boys for ogling your gorgeous daughter."

"Eastwood?" I asked, staring my wearied husband in the eyes.

"Eastwood," he agreed.

I couldn't help but notice that my family looked positively relieved.

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