The Host of I. Swan
Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. If they were mine I would have send them to Isle Esme sooner.
A/N: This story is about all those souls who have been victims of snob Edwards around the world. The link for the experiment about D-tower is in my profile.
Chapter one : Arrivals
BPOV
Sunday morning 11.00 am
Seattle, it's been years. If someone had told me I would come back here willingly four weeks ago I would probably consider him my enemy. Oh, don't get me wrong. I have nothing with the city. In fact I could say I ...like it…a little. My problem is it's proximity to a small, indifferent town with an unusual name.
Forks. Who would give a town a name like this? Then again who's talking. Who would give someone the name of a bird. Swan. My family's previous generations were sentenced to be bullied eternally. Maybe that was the reason they avoided reproduction.
I'm an only child, and my father was an only child, and my grand father was an only child. I'm the last of " Swans".At least if I was the last Mohawk bird I could have become a movie, but who's counting anyway.
A day before my third birthday my mother took me to a park just outside Phoenix. There was a lake with different kinds of birds floating and swimming . Renee – my erratic mother- explained to me the meaning of my surname when a white, pretty, thin bird passed before us graciously. The next day I considered it totally natural to ask for a lake as my birthday present, since I was a "swan". I got a plastic swimming pull instant and a white bathing suit with little swans printed on. OK, could be worse. I could be a "Magpie or...."
"Swan, wake up, we're almost landing, put your seat-belt on."
Rosalie, always straight to the point. She could have said : "Bella, sweetheart please wake up" but no, this is Rosalie Hale, better known as Rosalie "Hell"and trust me she is not the person you want to deal with when she is upset and ….she was.
You see, miss "Hell", except from being one of my best friends she has a thing about being punctual and preserve beauty. So I had to follow the first and suffer in silence about the second. This early flight only meant she had not get her usual hours of sleep. Someone should have warned that sensitive kid Eric about our tickets. She nearly sucked his blood when she found out we should be up at 5 in the morning. Rosalie without perfect make up is like watching a priest without his collar.
The truth is , she doesn't need any beauty products. Except from being a little pale thanks to diet, she could have her picture next to the definition of beauty in every dictionary in the world. She is perfect. Tall, thin but curvy, blond shiny hair, blue eyes. When I first saw her in the girls bathroom , on my junior year in high school, I wanted to dive in the toilet and never come out. I think some other toilets would have the same problem.
Luckily Rosalie saved that toilet from digesting me just by looking at me through the mirror and say while smiling: "If you tell me what color do you use on those cheeks and where did you get that dye on your hair I will buy you lunch for a week." Both colors, the one in my cheeks and the other of my hair, are completely natural but we ended up eating lunch together till today. And today we are not in high-school anymore. We are freshmen in University of Phoenix flying to Seattle for a student exchange program.
"Come on Bella, gather your staff and that book. I cannot forgive my self I let you pack it in. Who reads Withering Heights nowadays anyway and were is that little pixie?", the Venus beside me said, holding a small mirror in front of her face in order to put some lipstick on.
"Alice, were is Alice?"I asked my self and started searching around
She was so small the guy at the check in thought she was a child and offered to make us a discount.
He almost chocked when the "child" made a hilarious comment about:
".. not all men in uniforms look good, the present not excluded."
In two minutes I spotted her talking to a woman five rows ahead of us while a stewardess was politely trying to send her back at her seat. It took her almost five minutes to persuade her. Finally we heard the pilot's voice through the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen this is the captain speaking. In order to land safe in Sea-Tac I am kindly asking you all to return to your seats and fasten your belts. As for the young lady who insisted to meet the crew in the cockpit and take our opinion about a new kind of uniform she has in mind, we're sorry but we like it as it is. Bothering the other passengers I'm afraid will not work either. Thank you all for your cooperation and enjoy your visit to Seattle."
A very irritated Alice had already fasten her belt next to Rosalie who pretended she did not know her.
"What?, it's three years ago design and cheap fabrics. I had to make a try." she said in an angry tone.
"Alice, one day your cheeky ways will get you in serious trouble. If you were flying abroad they would have arrested you and probably make you look less than four feet plus a milk carton tall", Rosalie said and three seconds later all three of us burst in laughter.
OK, maybe the plain was not the right place for Alice's fashion experiments but at least we all landed amused.
Half an hour later the three of us plus six more students from our school were in a van heading to the University of Washington Campus Area.
Each of us is supposed to stay with a local student who will be our host for the whole three weeks and also our project partner. Unfortunately there is a pause due to Christmas and New years Day when everyone is free from the program, so the whole thing lasts more than four weeks. My problem was that I had no plans for the holidays. Both my friends had invited me to spend those days with their families but I had kindly declined . My mother was going to Europe with Phil, her second husband, and I had not seen my father for about five years. He would not even recognize me. Being 18 meant I was free in will so I had chosen to spend the holidays alone for the first time in my life.
EPOV
"I. Swan?, is that a name?" I was trying to conclude if the information note on my desk was real or just a mistake in printing. My head was not in it's best condition.
"Who gives someone a name like this?" He must probably be one those kids coming from a family of "flower children".
"Cool" I laughed . He probably will not be offended if I offer him the couch. I'm already in the limits of permanent insomnia. Sleeping on the couch will not help my situation. Anyway, the truth was I had already regretted that whole workshop thing. The only reason I was still willing to be a participant was the extra credit and the fact that I would have a good excuse to minimize the whole "happy" holiday concept with my family.
The same every year. I could have died of boredom long ago. Fortunately being in the third year of pre-med had some advantages, living alone was one of them. And by alone I mean alone. Not in dorm rooms or with roommates. Alone. Me , myself, and I.
Selfish?...hmm, rather realistic. Not many people around meant not many wanted or unwanted interactions. Not many interactions meant not many commitments. OK, I'm 21, I have eternity for commitments plus I cannot afford them yet.
So , this Isaac,or Ian or Ice or whatever they call him will have to respect his hosts privateness and be discreet about the mysterious Edward Cullen. No need for someone to know what I wear or not in bed or who may be in it too.
"Hmm,11.30, they must be here" I stretched indolently and hopped in the shower. I was supposed to meet my future guest in about an hour. They would all be transferred to campus and every host would deliver his "package" after a light lunch with Professor Banner.
Banner will run the workshop as the head of the teaching staff. The whole purpose was to create a model. A device which could count the emotions of a small town based on daily reports by it's citizens. In simple words, if the citizens are happy, the machine will have bright colors, if not it will get dark.
The authentic experiment had first taken place in the Netherlands. One artist and one architect, commissioned by the city of Doetinchem in the Netherlands, had created a sculpture with the name D-tower. It is an art piece that maps the emotions of the inhabitants of the city. It measures happiness, love, fear and hate daily using different questions.
Our project had similar aims but with a little more ambition. My involvement was to measure the health condition of the participants as a first level. In second level I was going to have a more interesting role. Transform the various results to music. Medicine was my academic choice but piano was one of my life commitments and I was not too young for this one.
Grabbing my keys and jacket I headed outside.
"Rain as always", I murmured.
That I .Swan would have to forget Phoenix hot weather and tan for almost a month. I was the last one to pick a guest. That explains the unusual last name. Everybody must have avoided it. People often create images by words and the site of a bird – even a gracious one- does not always appear appealing.
"Let's go see what my – I. Swan looks like", I told my Volvo entering my key and the engine obeyed in seconds.
"If the bird get's on my nerves I will eat it for Christmas", I told my self and pushed the accelerator.
"I must make sure he stays away from my piano.." was my last note to my self before my house disappeared from my middle mirror. I had already sentenced him to death.
A/N: Please take the time and review. The flower in my avatar will change colors like the D-tower. Let's make it red.