A/N: This is in response to the nosy kid I referenced back in I think chapter 5 of Trick-or-Treat. You do not need to have read Trick-or-Treat in order to understand this one, but you should anyway because I like it. =] Anyway setting: The Cullens move back to Forks for the first time since they signed the Treaty with the Quileute in 1936. It is now 1954. This will be Alice's first time to high school. Please forgive me beforehand at my attempts to incorporate 50s slang into the story.


EPOV:

I raise my fist to knock on Alice's door. I freeze; I can see myself knocking on her door in my mind's eye. "Come in," she sings. I drop my hand and shake my head. It's been four years and I'm still not used to her visions I think crossing the threshold.

"Are you ready to go?" I ask as she pins a purple bow into her short, inky black hair. She pats at her loose little curls. I don't even know how she got her pixie short hair to do that. She spins around to show off her new outfit – of course she had to pay two years college tuition shopping for her first day of school.

"How do I look?" Alice's voice rings like a chorus of bells. She truly is unique. As she twirls the bottom of her dress flares out. Alice is wearing a sleeveless, pastel purple dress to match the bow in her hair. The dress has a high, strait neck and it belted just above the waist. Along the bottom edge is a purple and white checkered frill at about the knees that matches the belt.

After her third or fourth twirl she stops and hugs me around the waist. "Oh thank you! You are so sweet." She kisses me on the cheek and skips out into the hall running the vision of me telling her how good she looks through her mind.

I run down to the garage saying bye to Carlisle and Esme as I pass by the library and Esme's workroom. As I get to my car I rub my hand across the glossy grey and black paint until I see a smudge. Why can't Rose clean up her own damn messes, I mutter to myself as I use the bottom of my black tailored jacket to wipe it off. I can't believe she'd smear my '55 Buick Roadmaster; I just bought it. Let's see how she likes it when I smudge up her pink Cadillac I think vengefully.

Just then my siblings enter the garage and go to their respective seats. I glare at Rosalie as she slides in behind me. She flips out her long blond curls over the wide shoulder collar of her blouse taking no notice to my hostility. Emmett scoots in next to her. The black leather from his jacket squeaks as he runs his hand down Rose's leg "straitening out" the hem of her silk skirt. Now she's completely preoccupied with thoughts and memories I do not want to relive with her.

Luckily Jasper's anxiety is enough to distract me. Waves of it roll off of him like being bombarded by a hurricane. I chuckle to myself hearing his thoughts. He's not even worried about himself; he's worried about Alice. Per Carlisle's advice, Jasper is going to skip out this time and wait until he has a little more self control. He hasn't completely committed to our way of life yet.

Alice stands with her arms tightly wound around Jasper's waist. His hands are securely on either side of her face as she stares deeply into her eyes. Alice stares back with the same intensity. I almost feel intrusive watching them in their private embrace. Even without my ability to read minds, they understand each other better than anyone else.

With a quick, but passionate, kiss goodbye Alice skips over to the passenger's seat. As soon as the door clicks shut behind her a peal out of the garage and down the serpentine path towards the main road.

This will be Rosalie's, Emmett's, and my third time back to school so none of us is overly cranked like Alice. Rosalie is, actually, secretly excited because she loves the attention she always receives upon our arrival. Emmett is dreading the experience almost as much as I am, but luckily for him he can easily look on the bright side. He is imagining all the new surfaces of the recently founded Forks High School that he and Rosalie have not already contaminated. I quickly shift my attention elsewhere.

Upon reaching a crosswalk in front of the school I have to let the car idle so I don't run over any of the students. Bloodshed today would not be good. I watch as our fellow classmates trudge drearily across the road, hesitant to start off a new school year. I lean back in my seat and sigh. I hate having to wait. As a truck pulls up beside me I can hear incoherent, panicked hatred in the thoughts of the driver. Lazily, I roll my head to the side to see what's going on. Out of habit my eyes drop quickly to scrutinize the red '53 Chevy pickup beside me before I look at the driver. It surprises me to see that this man's revulsion is directed towards me until I recognize the face. Ephraim Black has not aged well in the past twenty years although I'd guess him to only be in his mid-forties. He's put on some weight and his hairline has receded a bit. I'm not sure whether Ephraim's face has wrinkled much or not with his features scrunched in disgust. Quickly glancing towards the road to verify that the path is clear, I give Ephraim a slight half smile and speed off towards the school.

As we enter the parking lot hordes of students ogle at my passing car. I sigh and look around; my vehicle is clearly the nicest one in the lot yet it is the most inconspicuous car we own. I almost regret leaving my '47 Mercedes-Benz 170 back on Oregon, but it was getting pretty old.

Pulling into the nearest spot a few of the students shyly herd around the car doors. My mind is flooded with shouts of Wow! and Look at that hot rod! I chuckle to myself, but keep my composure until one penetrating thought stops me cold. Lucky cat, all I've got is my beat up, old Winton Runabout. I search hectically through the crowds until I find the source of the thought, a scrawny little square with an unfortunate jelly roll hairstyle. I see him staring avidly at my car as he leans against his, a 1915 red Winton Runabout. I can feel what life I have drain out of me as I'm hit with an overwhelming pang of nostalgia.

Cool it, Edward! Let's get going, Emmett thinks as he pushes me through the throng. Once we get under cover Rosalie glares at me. "What is your problem? It was starting to rain and hairspray doesn't hold forever." I touch my face to feel the moisture on my cheeks. I guess it did start to drizzle. As I stand there looking at the wet tips of my fingers Rosalie finally gets fed up and storms off to her class followed by Emmett.

Alice turns to me concerned, "Are you ok?"

"Fine," I respond numbly.

"No, really, what's wrong?"

I sigh. "There's a kid out there in the lot," I furrow my brow and pinch the bridge of my nose before continuing so quiet that no one can overhear, "he own a 1915 Winton Runabout. That's the same car my dad owned. The car I was supposed to get for my eighteenth birthday before . . ." My voice trails off and I drop my head.

Alice reaches up to place her hand on my arm sympathetically and leads me to our class. At least you can remember, she thinks sorrowfully.

The rest of my morning turns out to be uneventful. With each class I walk into I can hear the thoughts and hushed whispers of my classmates as they stare with awe and instinctive distrust. Some of them ever sink lower in their seats in response to subconscious fear. Everything is as it should be.

By lunch the school is already buzzing with rumors about my family as guys and gals alike swoon over our appearances. If only they knew.

"Hey Edward, you want to split out of here so we don't have to waste our time 'eating' lunch at school?" Emmett runs up behind me and places his grizzly hand on my shoulder. I think back to the parking lot and the old Winton sitting seven cars down from mine and shake my head. "Oh come on don't be such a wet rag."

"Let's just stay here for today and get the feel of the school first. We can go some other time. We have the whole year ahead of us." Emmett huffs and shoves my shoulder before dropping his hand back to his side.

"What ever you say little brother; you've got the keys."

"Don't even think about it," I say threateningly. Emmett turns towards me with a look of feigned insult like he'd never dream of stealing the car keys from me.

"Loosen up Edward. You're no fun," he complains as we step into the cafeteria.

"Speaking of no fun . . ." Rosalie is already sitting at a table in the front corner away from the rest of the student body. In front of her are three trays piled high with food that will go uneaten.

"What about Alice," I ask sitting behind one of the trays.

"Actually that's hers." I groan and shove my chair back from the table.

Walking past the rows of tables to stand in the lunch line I can easily pick out individuals and their thoughts. I scan through the minds of a few people to see what kind of imaginations the students here have. All of them are way off base; most of them are just perplexed. My muscles relax. No matter how many times I go trough this I'm always worried that someone will guess right for once.

That's when I hear it, vampire. The thought jumps out at me and I scan for its source. At the other end of the hall I see an awkward little nerd sitting by himself with his head buried in some flashy comic. Concentrating on his thoughts all I can hear is the plot of this issue read through his nasally voice. I look back at the cover page to read the title: Mystic. I sigh with relief. This fantasy comic series often stars mythical creatures, and apparently vampires have landed the role the week.

The scrawny kid pushes his horned rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and looks up. Through his eyes I can see his gaze land squarely on me as I stare back. My features are hostile from when I first heard him think that fateful word.

His eyes dart back to a page in the book to avoid my glare. First day here and they already don't like me. Well they are unbelievably good looking, but why are they so mean? He continues to stare at the picture in front of him waiting until he thinks it safe to look up again.

As his eyes scan the picture and he notes how infuriated the vampire in his book is. My muscles tighten. He chances a quick look at me and analyzes my suddenly increased hostility. Looking back at the page he again notes the white skin of his fictional vampire, another glance at me to confirm the similarity. I clench my jaw tighter and dig my fingernails deeper into my palms. He drops his head to scrutinize the figure once more and notes the tawny yellow eyes of the comic book vampire then looks back towards me. The warm butterscotch coloring due to my hunting trip this morning is close enough for him. The book slides from his sweaty palms plopping onto the table as I dart out of the line.

It takes all my control to move at a somewhat acceptable speed back to Rosalie, Emmett, and Alice who's already standing up ready to leave. "We have to get out of here. We're busted," I say inhumanly fast. The frantic look in my eyes has everyone convinced. Although this has never happened before, they know well enough what I'm talking about to not argue.

I push my Buick to its limits as I weave through the midday traffic. A professional couldn't have driven any better were he in a high-speed police chase. We arrive back to the house in less than ten minutes. The engine's barely had time to turn off by the time I'm up the stairs. I find Carlisle in his study organizing books onto the massive shelves. I frantically explain what happened and we both decide that it would be safer to leave instead of risking discovery. As we walk down stairs to give the news to the family I feel a little more relaxed, but that's more than I can say for Emmett and Rose.

Having overheard the plan, Rose is sitting on the couch fuming as Alice rubs her shoulder. Esme is standing by the back window, distressed, thinking about all the plans she had for the house. Jasper is sitting on my piano bench rubbing his temples as he tries to control the emotions rampant throughout the room. Emmett is the worse. He's pacing around the living room mumbling profanities under his breath while he pounds his fist against his hand. "That little spaz is just asking for a knuckle sandwich," one of his less vulgar threats.

"Calm down," I urge grabbing his arm.

"No, that kid's going to make us move again, and this time it's not my fault. I just want the kid to pay." I strengthen my grip on his arm. "Not in that way I mean . . . Well I don't know, but we can't just, not do anything." Emmett shrugs out of my grasp and continues pacing. The air is thick with tension and the rest of the family sits, unmoving, thinking towards the future.

"I guess we should start packing so we can leave tonight," Carlisle suggests. He reaches out his hand for Esme and they head upstairs. One by one Alice, Jasper and Rosalie head up to their rooms to pack as well.

After the room is cleared Emmett turns to me concentrating intently on his vengeance plan. I've never seen him so serious before so I nod my head once and grab my keys. As long as he's not hurting anyone, I think whenever doubt pops into my mind.

Speeding through town I search for the kid's house. School is still in session so I can't follow his thoughts. Instead I have to dig through my mind to pick out which scent was his, not an easy task considering the masses of students in the cafeteria earlier. I put the top down so I can taste the air better. Before long I find myself driving down a nearly deserted road. There's a house maybe every quarter mile which will give us plenty of cover.

I follow the scent to a rundown little house with faded green paint. Why anyone would paint a house green here is beyond me. We drive farther down the road because it wouldn't be too smart if I parked my car right in front of the house. As we step out of the car Emmett grabs his bag of "supplies" and walks towards the door in an all business matter.

I follow him up the drive to the door. He doesn't bother to take the time to respect property laws. Instead he simply kicks the door open leaving cracked paneling where his foot made contact. Go into the kitchen and destroy all the garlic you can find, he orders. I nod my head and comply. With a maniacal smile he turns and heads up the stairs.

The kitchen is tiny with only enough room for a fridge, stove, a small closet and a few counters. I turn towards the closet and search through the various boxes, cans and other random cooking items until I find the garlic. The strong smell burns my nose, but there isn't any other side effect besides that. Holding my breath I pull apart the individual cloves and smash them in my fist. I don't bother to clean up; I want him to find the peelings and juices spread across the countertop. Once the deed is done I meet Emmett upstairs. He's found the boys' room at the end of the hall on the right.

"This kid's every freakier than I thought he was," I mumble. Strings of garlic hang across the walls with copious crosses. Scattered across the dresser are at least five different sized wooden stakes and random silver bullets. It's hard to even walk across the floor with the massive stacks of comic books everywhere. I shuffle my way over to the bed knocking over as many stacks as I can along the way.

Emmett is standing on the edge of the bed taking crosses off the wall, breaking them, and throwing the pieces to the floor. He even bites a few for more effect. (I really hope I'm not offending anyone. That's not my intent. Please tell me if I do so)

"Emmett, don't you think that's a little disrespectful?" My family wasn't too religious, but I think back the Carlisle's cross that he's drug around the country with us on every move.

"I'll be forgiven," he grunts, "and besides we're going to hell anyway, according to you at least."

I bite my tongue. He's distressed, not thinking clearly. "What now?"

"Take care of that garlic over there and those stakes," he says pointing to the dresser. I trudge over and go back to garlic smashing.

The whole de-vamping process takes about three minutes, but Emmett couldn't look more excited. I look at the clock on the wall. If the kid leaves right after school he should be home in ten minutes. Perfect. We hide out in front of the house behind the bushes and wait.

"Hold on!" Emmett jumps up and runs back into the trees leaving me alone. I sigh and pick through his thoughts to see what he's scheming now.

"You are a sick man," I call out to him. He just laughs to himself as he scours the ground so some small rodent. Once he's found a nice plump one, Emmett runs back towards the house. He's back within a few seconds looking more excited than before.

"Man with blood everywhere that kid's really going to think his house was attacked by vampires!" Emmett holds up his hand for a high five and then crouches down to wait.

"He's coming," I mumble elbowing Emmett in the side.

Great! You are going to have to provide commentary for me though. I nod my head and concentrate.

He pulls into the drive in and old Ford truck from the 40s. He grabs his shoulder bag from the seat and fumbles with his keys looking for the one to the door. Once he finds it, he looks up to see the door barely hanging on its hinges. "No," he shrieks breathless.

"Ok Emmett, he's walked into the house. He sees the blood dripped up the stairs. Good job on that by the way. He stops and turns to the kitchen to get a knife for protection. He's found the mashed garlic and is starting to put it together. Ha, he's pulling out his hair in insanity.

"He's running upstairs to get his crosses and a stake. He's trying to avoid the blood. Ooh he just tripped and fell into a puddle of it. He lift's up his hands to stare and the stains. I think he might loose his lunch. No he's good now; he's got to get to his crosses."

A high pitched scream erupts from the house. "He's found them alright. You covered his bed in blood too? That's just wrong. He's rummaging around his dressed looking for any stake that's still intact, but he won't find one. Wait he's stopped. His mind is...blank? Oh no, I think the kid's snapped."

Deranged laughter comes from the house followed by hyperventilated breathing. "He's still here," the kid wails. His voice is hoarse and cracking.

"I can't make sense of his mind. His thoughts are bouncing everywhere," I say. Emmett shrugs his shoulders and listens. The kid thunders down the steps and bursts out of the house. His eyes twitching, he's making strange noises that sound like a mixture of disturbed laughter and tortured screams.

Once the kid's run out of site Emmett and I burst into hysterics. We stretch up from the bushes and run back towards the car laughing all the way.

When we get back to our house there are boxes upon boxes stacked up in the living room. People are randomly flitting around the house grabbing one thing or another.

"Where have you two been? We've been trying to pack and you guys just go off without a word to anyone," Rosalie rants as she spots us by the door.

"Hey, we're here now babe. We'll do whatever you want so we can get out of here as soon as possible," Emmett says trying to hold back his laughter. Rosalie glares at us trying to figure out what we did. She opens her mouth to ask when Alice appears behind her.

"You don't want to know," she mumbles into Rosalie's ear before returning to her packing. Emmett and I just look at each other and burst out laughing leaving Rosalie thoroughly ticked off.


A/N: Ok this one was just for the fun of it and I know you guys wanted to know what happened, so here it is. I hope you liked it. Even though it is a one-shot please leave a review and tell me what you think. I love your feed back.

Thanks!