Recommence ° Edward Cullen[Rewriting]

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Chapter Two \ Forks High School

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The squeak of sneakers and the sharp thwack of volleyballs echoed through the gym. Alex stood near the front of her team's side, her braid swinging as she moved, her eyes locked on the ball. When it came her way, she leapt, striking it clearly over the net with practiced precision. Her teammates let out a chorus of approval. "Nice hit!" One girl called.

Alex merely offered a small nod of acknowledgement, her lips twitching faintly. Volleyball wasn't bad—it was fast, reactive and demanded teamwork. Still, it held no comparison to the heft of a bat in her hands, the sharp crack of leather and wood colliding, the burst of adrenaline as she sprinted toward first base, cleats chewing up dirt. That was the kind of rhythm that lived in her bones.

A part of her ached for it, the sport she'd had to fight for. Renée had been adamant that she choose something softer, something "more ladylike." Alex still remembered the stifling press of tights, the blisters in shoes that pinched her toes raw, the endless hours at a barre with music she couldn't stand. Ballet. Dance. Piano. The things her mother swore would "refine" her but only made her loathe every second she was forced to bend into a mould she didn't fit.

It was one of the many things that had driven a wedge between her and Renée. Bella had always found ways to laugh with Renée, to slip into her rhythms and roll with her whims. But Alex. . . Alex had never fit the part Renée wrote for her. Maybe it was because she was adopted, or maybe it was just who she was, but the bond Bella had with Renée had never been hers.

Charlie, though—he had been different. Quiet, steady, always giving more than he took. He didn't tell Alex who to be; he let her find it. When she'd finally gone to him, asking for baseball instead of another season of dance, he hadn't argued. He'd nodded once, signed the papers, bought the glove, and even once, his first time in Phoenix, showed up at a game, looking lost among the noise but there nonetheless. That was all she'd needed.

Baseball wasn't just a game to her. It was a rebellion and a victory. Volleyball, by comparison, was only a decent distraction. A startled yelp broke through her thoughts. Alex turned just in time to see Bella on the opposite side of the net, flinching away from the ball as if it were out to get her. She practically ducked behind another player, her arms half raised in defence. The ball hit the floor with a hollow bounce. "Sorry!" Bella muttered quickly, her face flushed as her team reset the play.

Alex smothered a laugh, shaking her head as the ball was served again. To be fair, Bella wasn't completely unathletic—she just moved with the coordination of a newborn deer on ice, all limbs and hesitation. The kind of kid Renée had always imagined twirling gracefully in ballet shoes. It was a shame that the woman had two daughters who shared zero interest in her choice of extracurriculars, but Alex wasn't the sympathetic type. "Don't worry," she called across the net, smirking. "The ball's not gonna bite you."