Kiss Me by Moonlight - The Love Story of Renesmee and Jacob

Chapter III: That Which Does Not Kill You

"Driving at the speed limit—hideous thought."
—Stephenie Meyer

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Set when Renesmee is physically around sixteen

It was gloomy and rainy and, as far as weather went, a pretty miserable day in Forks. Renesmee paced the length of her grandfather Carlisle's bookshelf, which reached from the ground to the height of the ceiling and covered the entire wall.

She was fresh out of reading material. She made a soft noise of frustration. Wuthering Heights was sitting ostentatiously on her dresser at home in her room. At the first sign of book shortage, her mother had thrust her tattered copy under her nose and insisted upon her reading it. However, that was two weeks ago and the book still sat untouched.

There was something extremely . . . Bella about that book, and Nessie just wasn't ready to settle into that read again.

So she came to the big house in search of entertainment. Grandpa Carlisle was, as he always is, absolutely delighted to open his library to her. But his tastes in reading were somewhat more serious than hers. She wasn't really in the mood to read about William Harvey's discovery of blood circulation.

She gave up and made her way back down the stairs, at the bottom of which her parents sat engaged in a game of chess. This was generally quite an amusing way to spend the afternoon, watching her mother and father battle for kings. She wasn't really in the humour for it today, however.

"Look at this, Nessie," her mother called. Bella swiped her queen across the board and captured his rook. "Check."

Edward eyes darted around the squares with lighting precision, searching for an out. His knight took her queen, but she soon had him cornered again.

"I think she's got you, Dad," Renesmee whispered to his ear.

Edward chest inflated infinitesimally. "Of course she doesn't. I'm merely considering my options."

Nessie rolled her eyes. Her mother was the only one who could equal him in chess, and that wasn't because of his insurmountable talent for the game. He just usually cheated. With his mind.

"It's not cheating, Renesmee."

She nodded indifferently and moved to look out one of the grand panelled windows. She was supposed to be spending the day with Jacob, but there was some last minute emergency or something and he had to work.

It sucked that he was a grown up sometimes.

"He said he'd call over after work, Nessie," Edward said without looking up from the board.

"I know," she said. She sighed and sat down to watch the end of their game. Bella won the first, Edward the second.

Suddenly, from across the room, Emmett whistled. Nessie's eyes flashed to him. With one finger, he beckoned her over to him. Did he really whistle at her?

He was sitting in the living room, next to Rosalie, one of those ridiculous action movies that he loved so dearly playing on the television. "What?" she said indignantly when she reached him. "I'm not a dog."

"You're not," Rosalie said. "But the company you keep . . ."

Renesmee rolled her eyes. "What do you want, Uncle Em?"

"Hey!" he whispered. "I was trying to save you."

"From what?"

"Dying of boredom. You can't spend your Saturdays watching your parents play chess, kid."