Bella is ten. School has let out; she spends one week at the beach with Renée, celebrating, and then from there Renée drives her up to Forks, and drops her off, with many hugs. Charlie picks her up, with some hugs, although not as many; it's not his way. Bella settles in for the summer. It is, if nothing else, cooler up here.
"You just explained why there is no good hearsay. The last two are pretty much equivalent here and they're both worse than the method I actually picked. Nice try, though."
"If it's more fun or useful to talk to them than to do whatever else I'd be doing," says Bella. "Or if I have to for some reason, I guess."
"I could! But I clearly haven't decided that you're not worth talking to, because here I still am."
"You are still here," agrees Bella. "And I still haven't shooed you and started reading my book again."
"That depends entirely on the person," she says. "And factors such as, for example, what they like to do with their time."
"I mostly read. Or write notes about things," says Bella. "I'm not particularly interesting company, I think. It's pretty neat living in my head, but you aren't invited. So if we're going to do anything it might be useful to know what you like to do."
"That is why what you like to do with your time is only one factor," says she whom we shall call Elizabeth. "What's neat about living in your head?"
"I just think I'm interesting. I like to take my thoughts apart and find what littler thoughts they're made of."
"I dunno, no one ever wanted to know that many details about it before. If it comes up in conversation I'll tell you."