What's Left of Me: Chapter 1
AN: Hi guys! After reading FF for close to 10 years now, I'm finally giving the writing thing a shot. I'd really like to gauge the interest in this story so pretty please leave a review or PM me to let me know your thoughts, they are invaluable to me. I plan on posting bi-weekly (which might not ALWAYS happen because I am an Engineering student, and class gets hella overwhelming at times, but I will do my absolute best). I'm excited to hear from you! And I hope you enjoy ride! It's going to be one helluva'n adventure!
Chapter 1
The cool morning breeze gushed cleanly from the open window of my red '81 Chevy, while the sunrise cast pink and orange swirls over the horizon, boasting a momentary pause in the ever-present downpour. The weather in Forks rarely allowed for such venture as an open window, the rain was virtually constant, ensuring that the town's inhabitants stayed locked away, safe and dry, in their respective homes, schools, and offices. This day was an exception.
Pulling out of my driveway was always a nuisance. It was bumpy and narrow to begin with, add the gigantic blind spot created by the outrageously over-sized oak tree situated tauntingly at the end of it, and Houston we have a problem. It was predicament that had been the cause of numerous close calls, and one almost-wreck, which was prevented by Alice Cullen's thankfully quick reflexes.
Charlie, my dad, knew of my dilemma. I had reminded him repeatedly of the woes, and bad mornings, and annoying comments, which had all resulted from that stupid tree, but my complaints fell on deaf ears. "It's been there since you were a baby, Bella," or "you are over-exaggerating, it's not that bad," were his most common retorts on the subject. Ergo, I dealt with the same stupid problem every, single, day.
To be fair, the tree would not be such an ordeal if it weren't for our neighbors, the Cullen's, who all seemed to drive like maniacs, and accounted for each and every one of those "close calls" I mentioned. Nothing says "good morning" like a near death experience, but I digress.
Carefully backing out with acute concentration on ALL of my mirrors, I successfully pulled out of the deathtrap. Once on the road, I exhaled a long breath and quickly took it back as a freshly waxed black Volvo XC60 swerved into view. It was pretty, but the sight of it sent my nerves into overdrive. I forced air in and out of my lungs, and reminded myself to stay in my own lane. The last thing I needed today was Edward Cullen jabbering on about my driving performance. Luckily for me, it didn't take long for him to get bored of the speed limit and race past me. It took everything in me not to look over; I could feel his eyes burning into me. I couldn't see his face without looking, but I did catch the middle-finger he reached over his passenger to flaunt at me. Breathing? Check. There was no masking the flinch in my otherwise neutral facade, I couldn't simply ignore the jab; each one seemed to hurt more than the last.
The rest of the day went by normally. AP Calculus, study hall, gym, lunch, AP Biology, and AP Government; a heavy load but I had no life so I could easily handle the work. Gym and Biology had easily become my least favorite classes; the problem being my apparent inability to remain standing in gym and the resident idiots talking inanely about the stupidest stuff in Bio. I mean seriously, how do you talk for 45 minutes solid about getting shitfaced and high? That was a rhetorical question; obviously you start with a low I.Q. and zero independence.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a loner or anything, I just don't socialize all that much. Something about me and the majority of teenagers my age doesn't click. They decide to take it as me being snobby. I see it more as divergent and opposing interests which make associating with them rather tedious. That being said, I don't hate everyone at Forks High School, just the vast general population.
Angela Weber, for instance, was an exception. She was widely accepted around the school as a pure-heart do-good-er and all-around great person; one assessment I could agree with. She tended to hang out with the 'popular' crowd, but she conveyed a certain type of innocence. She had a certain naivety that I wished I could relate to. At lunch we sat together and talked, small talk, shallow talk, whatever you would like to call it. We never got into any deep, world changing, subjects, yet nonetheless as I got to know her the innocence faded into a wisdom that could be seen in the depths of her diamond-like blue eyes. It is the kind of knowledge that is ever-present and yet invisible at a passing glance. She was steady and constant. It was nice to, for once, have someone so trustworthy in my life; despite the chronic knowledge that I could never genuinely let her in.
"Hey Bella," Angela smiled brightly, plopping her books on our lunch table before falling into the chair across from me. "So," she began before pausing to take an exhausted breath. "What ya' got going on this weekend? Any plans?" Her smile was contagious and it wasn't long until I found myself smiling too. She was attempting to tempt me into 'branching out', I quickly squashed that hope.
"Homework," I lied, watching her face fall, like I knew it would, before becoming skeptical, again like I knew it would. "I've gotten a bit behind over the past week or so from just being lazy. What about you?" I continued to fib, if she didn't believe it, she hid it well, and once again her face fell.
"Oh nothing really," she looked away as she spoke, almost guiltily as she stumbled over the rest her sentence. "Tyler's having a party at his place tonight, so Ben and I are probably gonna check it out." It was interesting to watch her expression light up at the mention of her longtime boyfriend Ben Cheney. They made a gorgeous couple and balanced each other out well, Ben, beautiful, in that dark angel kind of way, always brooding and sardonic, where Angela was vibrant, full of untapped wisdom and positivity.
In the looks department, they looked like a celebrity pairing. Angela was gorgeous with a tall effortless figure, naturally honey-blonde waves, glowing olive skin, and ice blue eyes. Corresponding to Angela, Ben was also incredibly good-looking, gifted a charming smile, on the rare occasion that he actually used it, and a body that seemed wicked in the possession of such a nice guy. Well mostly nice, he certainly had his moments. Their coupling often had me reconsidering what I knew about Angela, like perhaps she wasn't as innocent as she appeared. Then again, I'm sure that is how it is with most people; we all have skeletons in our closets, even sweet Angela.
Ben and Angela's good looks were no oddity at Forks High School. In fact, the high school seemed to act as a magnet for attractive people, most notably the Cullen's and the Hale's. Carlisle Cullen, good looking in his own right, fathered 3 children. The eldest, Emmett, was tall and built, with bright hazel eyes and a flirtatious smile; he was the male version of his slightly younger sister. Alice Cullen was one of those girls who could pull off a trash bag, her eyes glittered beautifully hazel and her light brown hair matched her bear of a brother. Edward was the most unique out of the three. Edward's hair was darker, redder, a mixture of chestnut and gold; his eyes were green like ornate emeralds, and his skin seemed to have a golden luster. He bared resemblance to a Greek god.
Alice and Emmett paired off with the Hale's. Jasper, Alice's boyfriend since forever, and his older sister Rosalie, Emmett's fiancée of two weeks, were southern beauties. Tan, tall, blonde and blue eyed; Hitler would have loved them. Edward, despite his good-looks, had never dated to the sheer infuriation of FHS's entire female population. After going to school with the group nearly all my life, I had hardly spoken to any of them, with the exception of one.
". . . coming or not?" I had spaced out from Angela's small-talk, why does she still hang out with me?
"Oh. . . Umm I," before my brain had a chance to formulate a polite 'NO' I was saved by what could only be defined as a very unwelcome visitor. My food quickly disappeared from the table in front of me, which was now being used as a seat.
"Excuse me ladies, I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Queue wicked grin. Edward Cullen, ever the sassiest douche-bag. "Well, well, if it isn't Driving Miss Daisy," arrogance wasn't a good look for him; I quickly began to gather my things. "Aw I just got here, so what if you're a virgin that can't drive? I'm sure there are worse things in the world, like at least you aren't ugly... Oh wait..." A rumble of laughter made its way through the surrounding tables. I began backing away; of course I didn't get far before Edwards fingers gripped my arm, forcing me to look at him. "Leaving already?" he pulled me closer and his musky scent took over my senses, his hot breath tickling my ear, ". . .but the going was just getting good." Using more strength than necessary, I yanked out of his grasp, a white fire of rage had begun to erupt in my veins.
"Edward," my breath was hindered by anger, "I'm telling you right now, do not start with me today." I focused all my strength on keeping an even tone in my voice. "Angela, about that get-together, maybe another time, tonight just isn't good for me. I'll see you guys later." As I took one last look at the god-like devil standing cockily in front of me, I saw Him in his eyes, I saw my sunshine. With that, I walked smugly out of the café, without a single tear running down my face.
"Ed, what the fuck man? That shit was fucked up." Yeah, Ben was on my side. I heard a chair drop, and a pitter-patter of feet coming towards me, I walked faster.
"Angela," Edward's deep voice was raised to a volume that I could hear, even with my growing distance, "I suggest you keep your distance from girls like her, she's not exactly good for the rep, if you know what I mean." Another chair drops, I smile to myself.
"You are an asshole Edward Cullen, and you should be ashamed of yourself!" She has no idea. In part, I was proud; it was nice to have friends that had no qualms about standing up for me to one of the most powerful teenagers in Forks.
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School had only been in session for a few weeks and yet my lie to Angela about catching up had been partially true. I ended up spending the majority of my Friday afternoon studying and doing tedious worksheets.
At 8, like clockwork, my dad came in to let me know he was leaving for the night shift at the station; this meant I wouldn't see him until Saturday night, since he tended to go fishing with his friend, Billy, after work. He left with little else said, but an "I love you, goodnight," and an "I'm locking the doors."
I got bored with homework quickly after he left, and pushed it aside to play on my keyboard. My room was sparsely furnished. It contained nothing more than a full-sized bed that had been pushed into the corner, a small desk that doubled as a bookshelf, a keyboard, and a closet. The dark wood of the furnishings and the basic color scheme, white, gray, and lavender, made it a peaceful sanctuary of calm, while my sheer lack of knick-knack's made it easy to clean. My mother bought the majority of my room decorations as an apology for missing out on the entirety of my childhood, it was her loss.
As midnight closed in, I quickly showered, and readied myself for bed, changing into flannel shorts and an over-sized t-shirt. Finally, I climbed into bed with my wet hair sitting in a knotted pile on top of my head and my battered copy of Pride and Prejudice balanced in my lap.
Lost deep in Jane Austen's world of angst, quick-wit and long lost romance, the banging against my window nearly landed me on the floor. My heart pounded with anticipation as I stumbled to the window; it slid open with a practiced motion, despite my excited state. In a last minute haste, I glanced at the clock, it was one; my blood froze. You're late.
What happened this time? Am I enough? Can I handle this? My heart pumped harder as excitement morphed rapidly into dread. I pulled the dampened towel from my shower off the chair I had hung it on to dry and raced to the window. Sliding it open with a practiced motion, I nervously anticipated what came next.
To say it was raining, would be the understatement of the century. It seemed as though the aliens keeping watch over the ant farm had turned the hose on the hill of Forks just see its inhabitants scurry away from the spray. Visibility beyond the cover from the roof was a joke. How did he make it here in this? Water came pouring into my room along with the drenched body of the boy that made my blood sizzle and my heart want to beat through my chest.
He slid clumsily down the wall beneath my window, cold and weak. I quickly shut it after him and allowed myself a single calming breath. I let the oxygen calm my starving lungs, and ignored the knot that had begun to grow exponentially beneath my sternum. I had gotten much better at acting calm, but that was all, I could only act. For him.
Finally, the adrenaline began to behave constructively and my thoughts came at more reasonable pace. Breathing? I looked him over steadily, watching his chest rise and fall like its movement held all the wealth in universe. Check. That's all that mattered.
His clothes were darkened and heavy with water, their weight on his weakened body interfering with the demonstration of life I held so dear. Rearranging his posture to allow me better access, I pulled him so that his head rested heavy against my shoulder, with his nose in my throat I could feel him pulling in deep ragged breaths, I counted each one, cherishing them. I worked as quickly as possible with his much larger stature, pulling his jacket from his shoulders and his hoodie up over his head, they had done little in the way of protection, even his T-shirt was soppy. I dried his torso and hair quickly, knowing that he needed warmth, and being shirtless and damp was not conducive to that end. I could sense the calm spreading through his body as he relaxed into me causing me to stop my ministrations and pull him tightly to me. His large arms wrapped around me slowly pulling me impossibly tighter against his, thankfully, heating skin.
"Bella," the emotion in his voice nearly broke my forced calm. It was agony. It was defeat. It was fear. It was shame. It was my hell.
"Shh," tears threatened to overwhelm me as the knot seemed to climb impossibly higher in my throat, his eyelids were heavy with fatigue and sadness. They were still beautiful. Nothing could compare to their depth, like two beautiful evergreens set in the clearest blanket of snow, so strikingly clear, as if only they could see the world for everything that it was, wholly, completely, perfectly. The redness that poisoned them in these moments filled me with the deepest form of sadness. My lips found his forehead, my hands twining tightly at the nape of his neck into his hair. Finally, I let the tears fall, words scratching as they tore roughly through my aching chest. "I'm here Mase, I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
AN: Me again! Slightly cliffy? I hope you are as invested as I am! Let me know what you think:) Ciao lovies 3