A/N: Wow. It's been such a long time since I bothered to write anything for fanfiction... I decided I missed it, so here is the first story I've posted since Freshman year in high school, when I'm now a freshman in college. Enjoy.
Chapter One
Forks, Washington was ridiculously green. Bella couldn't get over the fact that this small town was just… so green. And wet. Who could possibly want to live here?
Pulling her dark blue cardigan around her small frame tighter, she leaned back in the passenger's seat of her father's police car, staring out the window in dismay. What did she do to deserve this?
Oh. Right. She hadn't done anything. Mike had.
Rubbing her hands together, she stared out that window and at the damp foliage, her silence thickening the air around her. Charlie, he father, hadn't said much since she'd arrived, obviously unsure of what to say to the young woman he had been mostly out of contact with for years. And being thrown together in this situation was awkward, to say the least.
"You start school next week," Charlie finally said, glancing over at his daughter as they rolled to a stop in his drive way. She shrugged slightly, barely looking at him as she hugged herself tightly. She didn't want to talk about school right now. She hated school.
"Things will be different here." The quiet statement caught her off guard and she turned to look at him, studying the tight line his lips made as he turned the car off, pulling the key out and slipping it into his pocket. A bit of stubble darkened his cheeks, completing the tired look that he seemed to always have. She wondered if he was working too much.
"Teenagers are cruel where ever you go," she finally replied, pushing the door open and sliding out of her seat and onto the wet asphalt. "Nothing will change."
She closed the door before marching up the drive way and through the sodden grass, wrinkling her nose at the smell of wet leaves and dirt. She wished she was back in Arizona, where she could at least get outside and let the sun kiss her skin. Here, she was stuck with rain and moss, and she hated it.
Stepping inside the house was like having an old dream. Nostalgic, certainly, but not entirely welcome. Comfortable, maybe, but also tensely awkward.
"I've set your old bedroom up for you," Charlie told her sheepishly, stepping in behind her and rubbing the back of his head. "I hope it's alright. I wasn't sure what teenagers like…" He shrugged his shoulders, uncomfortable with the admittance of being clueless about his daughter. She gave him a small smile with the hopes of comforting him and nodded her head, assuring him that it would be fine. He nodded once before heading into the kitchen, banging around as if he intended on cooking. Bella shook her head once, knowing that after tonight she'd probably end up doing most of the house work, and sighed softly. Her trudge up the steps was as close to a walk of shame that Bella had ever experienced. She had run away from what she wasn't strong enough to face, allowing Mike to uproot her from her home and family and place her in the middle of this little wet town that she couldn't imagine calling home. He had won and she was still suffering.
Stepping into her old bedroom, Bella set her single bag down on her lilac colored bed, robotically pulling he clothes out and placing them neatly into her drawers. Her father had said she only needed to bring clothes, and sure enough there sitting on her night stand was everything she needed for her daily human rituals; tooth brush, hair brush, deodorant. Even some tampons, and she couldn't help but blush as she imagined Charlie fumbling with the box in the super market, unsure of what kind to buy. He was a good dad, really, albeit a bit awkward.
"I love my room," she informed him as she stepped downstairs, giving him a small smile. He smiled back hesitantly, his brows knitting together as if he was trying to figure her out before he nodded. "That's good."
"Are you making dinner?"
He frowned then, shrugging his thin shoulders. "I'm not a great cook."
"I remember." The light tease seemed to catch him off guard, and Bella wondered what all her mother had told him. He seemed to be expecting the worst from her, not that she really blamed him. She had been pretty scary these past few months. The mere fact that her mother hadn't locked her away in the psych ward was one she was very grateful for. She couldn't complain, really. It had been that or Forks, and she had chosen Forks.
"I'll cook," she suggested, smiling slightly, "You go watch TV, it'll be done in a bit." He nodded, looking intensely grateful as he wandered out of the kitchen, leaving her to make dinner. Which, she discovered, was dang near impossible. All the man had was old take out and a jar of spaghetti sauce. Frowning slightly, she managed to find what seemed to be old spaghetti noodles in the farthest corner of the pantry. Hoping they would be fine, she set to work making enough for the two of them.
The rest of the evening passed slowly. They ate dinner together in the awkward half silence, the noise from the television in the other room the only thing breaking it. Once or twice they had both tried to make idle chit chat, but their attempts soon crashed and burned. Eventually, they were finished eating and Charlie wandered back into the living room when Bella offered to clean up, gathering their dishes and washing them off dutifully. Tomorrow she'd find the grocery store and set to work on nourishing he father. Eating take out every night was hardly healthy.
A/N: Reviews are nice...
