Disclaimer: TWILIGHT (STORY AND CHARACTERS) IS THE PROPERTY OF STEPHENIE MEYER.
First off I'd like to explain why I started this project. Despite the fact that I throughly enjoyed Twilight, yes sparkles and all, I do not like Stephenie Meyer as an author. To me Twilight had so much
potential and it was just not fulfilled by her as a writer. I don't claim to have achieved a masterpiece in my re-write, but I was happy with what I came up with. I always loved LOVE stories. I think
people have become to cynical about love. An all consuming love like Bella and Edward's could exist, if portrayed a bit creepily by the author. One example being Queen Victoria's and Prince Albert's
love for each other, I mean the man took a bullet for her. I hope you enjoy my version of the tale, and find it enjoyable in it's own funny way.
Please review as it's the only motivation for me to keep going with my project.
Preface
I'd never thought about death, let along my own. I valued my life. Yet death seemed to be thinking of me a lot lately. I was on its personal hit list. But even if I had been thinking of my own death I'd probably wouldn't have thought that I'd die like this.
The room was dark, but I could see my scared reflection in the mirrors. His face turned towards me, a small smile on his lips. Despite the numb feeling in my feet, I some how managed to walk forward. My brain kept screaming for me to turn back, but I couldn't. This wasn't about preserving my own life. I hoped that the fact that I had come here of my own free will to die for someone else negated the fact that it was, in a way, committing suicide. Would I be forgiven?
My mind focused on the day of my decision to move to Forks. It had been that decision that had landed me in this situation. Yet I didn't regret it, because it had been the best decision of my, now short, life. That decision had given me an opportunity many people only dreamt about, and I was not going to lament this end.
He stood, frustration -at my slowness- vibrated off his body. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply and I saw, even in the darkness, his blood red eyes narrow. Death checked off my name as I closed my eyes.
Chapter 1
First Sight
My mom drove slowly. It was obvious she still hoped I'd change my mind. She kept throwing glances at me from the corner of her eyes. I was a little worried that she wasn't paying enough attention to the road. She thought I had been replaced with a body snatcher, I could tell. In her opinion that would be the only reason for this decision now. It was hot, even for California weather. Not one single cloud in the sky. I sigh with longing knowing the town of Forks Washington wouldn't have brilliant sunny skies like these.
It rained constantly in that little town. It surprised me that it was still there, hidden behind the ferns. By now the rain should have washed it all away. That had always been my dearest hope. My mom knew this as well, that was the reason for her veiled glances. I hated Forks, and I made sure everyone knew that. She had barely managed to escape its clutches when she was sixteen, and she vowed she would never return. Of course then she found out she was pregnant with me and that put a bit of a wrench in her plans. She'd had to tell my dad.
In an effort to give me a "normal" life, they shared custody. My mom would send me to spend half the summer in Forks. Let's just say I never looked forward to those visits. I used to mark the days off on my calendar until I returned to California. My time was spent staring languidly at the sheeting rain through the small window of my bedroom.
But there comes a time when you realize you don't have to tolerate horrible, uncomfortable situations. My father and I mostly communicate by e-mail and through the phone now. Sometimes when he had money he came down for visits but he never stayed long. There were days I felt guilty that I hadn't tried harder to have more of a relationship with my dad. That's what I've been trying to sell my mom. I swallowed loudly as LAX loomed in the horizon.
"Mom, you've had me for so long," I told her. "Don't you think it's only fair that dad get to spent time with me too?"
I could see she was trying to find a way to change my mind. "I know its fair, but Forks?" She said the name as if it were a bad word. Her face screwed up in disgust. I couldn't hurt her feelings by telling her the real reason for my abrupt moving arrangements. My mom's new husband, whom I refuse to think of as my stepfather, gave me the creeps. I couldn't bear to be in the same room with him. Living in my house had become a nightmare for me. The day he cornered me outside my bedroom, and felt me up, I made up my mind to move. There was the hope that my mom would realize what a sick man Phil was, but I didn't really believe she would, as always she was far too in love to see anything but the fantasy man he portrayed. My mom always fell for the bad boy, never realizing how bad they were until it was too late. I wasn't going to let the "too late" be me.
My mom stared at me with that expression I loved. The one that made you believe everything would turn out great. It was her "No worries" expression. Her green eyes made me calm. They reflected her inner peace, which ricocheted towards me. It made my lie sound more convincing.
"This is going to be great."
She looked at my face, trying to detect the lie. She was pretty perceptive, when she wasn't head over heels in love. I hungrily scanned her face trying to commit it to memory. It would be a while until I saw her again.
"If you change your mind, Bella…" she began.
"I won't change my mind," I told her before she had time to finish her sentence. If it was between the rock and the hard place, Phil or Forks, I chose the hard place any day.
"Mom I swear you worry too much," I tried to sound unconcerned. She smiled and nodded softly. "I may not be the best but I am your mom and its-
"And it's your job to worry about me, blah, blah," I interrupted again.
She stared at me, a grin breaking across her youthful face. She pulled me close and ruffled my hair. Slinging my carry on over my shoulder I walked to the terminal that had been called through the loudspeaker. I glanced one last time at my mom and she caught me staring. She hugged me tightly as too fat tears escaped from her glassy eyes. Then she kissed both my cheeks and slapped my behind playfully. It was her version of "the push from the nest." My mom was letting me go. That simple act brought a lump to my throat.
"Catch a good one, honey!" she yelled as I handed the stewardess my ticket. Both my cheeks flamed, and the stewardess chuckled. Rolling my eyes, I walked the short way into the plane. It was more likely I'd get hit with lightning.
It wasn't until I buckled myself in that I finally felt how truly heavy my sacrifice was. I cursed Phil to the darkest corner of hell and I felt a bit of resentment towards my mom also for marrying him. Then I felt guilty for feeling that way, and finally I just put my face in my hands and sobbed for most of the flight. The stewardess kept checking on me, offering me pillows and drinks. When I had cried myself out I managed to fall asleep from exhaustion.
Charlie, my dad, had never quite understood my eagerness to move to Fork. I remembered the day I called him to beg that he let me live with him.
"Dad, I need to ask you a question?" I said. "I don't know if you'll want to do it."
"Just ask me Bella," he prompted.
"Can I move in with you?" I said in a rushed voice. "Can I move in with you, please?"
"Are you the Donkey from "Shrek" now?" he said chuckling. I attempted a laugh, hoping he couldn't hear the desperation behind it. "Why would you want to come live here?" he asked.
Me and my big mouth, if only I hadn't been so against Forks. Was this karma for not spending enough time with him? "I miss you, duh."
He didn't sound convinced. "When did this start happening?"
"Dad, what's with the twenty questions?" I snapped. I was starting to fear he was going to say no, and I hated suspense. If he wasn't going to let me move in then he should just say so. Rip off the band-aid quickly so the hurt would be done and over with.
He chuckled again. "Yeah, you can move in. You know I'd love to have you here with me."
The relief that swept through me was unbelievable. I had a way out, an exit. It wasn't the best option, but it was better than staying here. The voice in the back of my head told me that I shouldn't be running away, that I should stand up to Phil. But then my mom's smiling face would break through my thoughts and I silenced the voice immediately. This was my sacrifice for her.
When I stumbled off the plane, my father pulled me in for a bear hug and kissed my forehead. He didn't know how to interact with me, he simply considered me one of the guys. He was all football and baseball. The "manly stuff" as he puts it. I didn't want to remind him that girls liked those things too, because I wasn't one of them and he would probably sit me on the couch to endure an hour long game for lack of something better to do.
"So, how was your flight?" he asked as I pulled my seat belt around and strapped myself in.
"Long and tedious, glad it's over," I told him.
He laughed. My dad had a hearty laugh, deep and rough. I looked at him closely as he drove us home. His hair had gone gray and he had grown a mustache. He looked thinner and there were lines etched around his eyes. I wondered if those lines where due to his job or me. He worried about me, that wasn't a secret. He didn't exactly think my mom was the world's greatest parent. But could his concern over me make him age prematurely?
I contemplated telling my dad about Phil. A grin lit my features as I pictured Police Chief Swann breaking Phil's nose.
"You don't look miserable right now, what's gotten in to you?" he asked me confused.
"I'm just really happy to see you," I said.
He gave me a sidelong glance just like mom earlier. I had a feeling he was going to do that quite a lot in the coming days.
"Oh," he said after we had gone sometime without talking. "I almost forgot. I've got a car for you." He paused gauging my reaction.
I stared at him, not sure what was coming off my expression. I hoped it was mild curiosity but it felt more like shocked horror. My father wasn't the best judge of people and he was always bamboozled by a sly talking car salesman. He usually got stuck with lemons, hunkers that didn't go two miles without something dropping off.
"Okay?" I said.
"I know what you're thinking, but this one is good. I swear I got a good deal on it," he told me. "Besides you need a car, I can't be driving you all over in this." He gestured at the steering wheel of his cruiser. "Would you like that?"
He was right. Whatever it was I had to like it, because I was stuck in this town for a while. Despite my newfound acceptance I couldn't help but ask. "Who did you buy it from?"
"A friend," was his short response.
"A friend…" I prompted.
He sighed again. I could tell he wasn't happy about telling me this.
"Billy Black, from La Push," he grimaced.
My mouth hung open, I had seen Mr. Blacks Chevrolet and I hope my dad wasn't taking about that. It had been old ten years ago. The paint was faded and rusted. I could only imagine what it looked like now. I swallowed my pride, chocking on it on the way down.
"Thanks, dad," I managed to say.
For the duration of the ride, I just stared out the window. It was raining none stop. The clouds were thick and purple. Immediately I felt sick. But as I kept staring I had to admit, grudgingly, that Forks had it charms. One thing was for sure, everything was green. I was sure you could see Forks from space, just point at the green stain on the Olympic Peninsula.
My dad's house, now mine also, was like any other house in Forks. Small and weather beaten, the paint was peeling and it looked like the greenery was trying to swallow it up. And my "new" Chevy truck was parked right in front of it. I wanted to laugh hysterically but I kept composed. The more I stared at it the uglier it got.
"Yeah, it isn't a beauty, but it's sturdy Bella."
I nodded, and seeing it through my dad's eyes I started to like it. It wasn't beautiful as my dad had pointed out, but it was old world. It reminded me of the nineteen fifties, which I guessed was the age the thing was built. The paint was more faded than I remembered; it had a bulging cab and large round fenders. Rust spots corroded the metal, making it look like a square orange covered in dried ketchup.
"Actually, it isn't bad. I'm starting to see a real connection between me and her." I had now given the thing a gender. I was hopeless. My dad smiled hugely- obviously pleased I hadn't thrown his gift in his face. Did he think I would do that? Had I been that much of a monster, neglecting him the way I had?
I shuffled through the door laden by my small suitcase and my carry-on. The house was the same as it had been every time I'd come to visit. It had the same small beige couch, same coffee table, same everything as far as I could see. Not even the wall color seemed to have changed a bit. The newest thing in the house was the forty seven inch flat screen he had bought for watching the game with his buddies. The only real evidence that time had passed were the pictures on the fireplace mantle. They showed a girl growing up from tiny baby to gangly teenager. They revealed every embarrassing flaw of that phase, from no teeth to too big teeth, and every blemish I had received. It surprised me that instead of embarrassment I felt loved. It had been wrong to stay away for so long.
He showed me to my room, though I knew the way already. It was surprisingly undisturbed. It was as I had left it the last summer I came to visit. I noticed it was clean which made my stomach constrict in guilt. My mind recoiled from the fact that there was only one small bathroom that he and I would have to share. My mom had sent my laptop ahead to be set up here, an Internet receiver stood next to it. It was tucked in a corner of the small room, clearly dust free. As soon as the tour was over, my dad quickly made his way downstairs and occupied himself with a football game.
That was one of things I would most enjoy about living with my dad, that he would give me my space. It left me free to sulk. Instead I put away my bit of clothes and organized my school bag for tomorrow morning. I was nearly done when my cell phone ran. I stared at the screen, it read MOM.
"What's wrong mom?" I asked.
"Can't a mom call her daughter without something being wrong?" she asked back.
She was trying to distract me, "No."
"I miss you so much," she squealed.
"I miss you too."
"Bella, are you ready to come home now?" she asked. I didn't know if she was serious or not.
"Mom, quit that or I won't answer the phone anymore," I threatened.
She huffed in defeat. "How is Charlie?" she asked peacemaking.
"He's good," I said. "Say's hi," I lied.
"I really doubt that, but just in case say hi back."
I shook my head. They didn't hate each other but they didn't exactly look eye to eye either. I wondered what brought them together in the first place. In what circumstances was I conceived?
"I will," I said. "Mom I need to finish unpacking. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Oh, alright," she mumbled disappointed. "Love you."
"Love you back." I snapped the phone shut, and then turned it off. I didn't need her calling me every five minutes. My dad poked his head into the room at that exact moment. His eyes grew sad. "Tired of this place already, Bells," he said misinterpreting my wistful expression, he tried to smile but it looked wooden.
"No, dad," I said. "That was mom on the phone. She says hi."
"Really?" he asked as doubtfully as mom. "I guess I should have asked about her. How is old Renee?"
I laughed at the word "Old." I was sure my mom would have been bristling if she were here to hear that.
"She's good," I responded. "I miss her."
His expression turned suspicious. I could see what he was going to ask before he asked it.
"Bells, why did you…"
"Dad I hate to cut our chit chat short but I need to finish unpacking." I said pointing at my already empty suitcase. I didn't want to have this conversation right now, or ever.
"Yeah, yeah, I guess you're right. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all that." He passed his hand over his face as if to wipe away the suspicious expression. "I just wanted to ask if you were hungry. I made some pasta."
"No, thanks dad, I already ate on the plane." I made a show of rubbing my empty stomach. "I'm full."
He nodded and turned to leave, "if you change your mind it'll be downstairs." He closed the door behind him and I heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs. Alone, I could concentrate on the misery I was feeling. I could think of my day tomorrow, and how awkward it would be to be the stranger in a school of kids who grew up together. Not to mention that it was January, and therefore the middle of the semester.
What was worse, I didn't look like a Cali girl. I just didn't have the California glow, that suntan, sporty, "I'm a natural athlete" look. I had very fair skin, and living in California had done nothing to improve the color of it. In an attempt to put some color on my cheeks my mom had insisted we go down to the beach and suntan, I ended up with horrible sunburn while she looked like a bronze goddess. Also my hand-eye coordination sucked, I couldn't hit water if I fell out of a boat. That's why I avoided, dodge ball, basket ball, soccer, cheerleading and any other type of physical sport. My least favorite subject in school is… drum roll please, you guessed it P.E.!
After finishing my packing, I walked downstairs to the bathroom to put my shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom closet. As I passed the mirror I caught sight of my reflection and cringed mentally. I didn't know if it was Forks or just my present state of mind that made me look washed out. My brown eyes had lost they're usual shimmer. Even my brown hair slumped lifeless on my head. I stared silently at myself and a lump lodged in my throat. Closing my eyes, I wished that tomorrow wouldn't be as horrible as my imagination led me to believe. Hoping by some miracle that I would fit in, I would belong. For the first time I wanted to be a part of a group, to have friends.
"Who am I kidding," I thought. I didn't fit in anywhere, with anybody. Wanting there to be someone who liked Shakespeare plays, and memorized nineteen century novels was impossible, because aside from me, that person didn't exist, at least not within my age bracket.
After I had brushed my teeth I walked back to my room and jumped into bed. There I stared at the ceiling, letting the hours pass by. My already gloomy room grew darker and soon my eyes grew heavy and I fell into an uneasy sleep.
"Bells, you're going to be late for school!" my dad said, knocking loudly on my bedroom door. "Hurry up and you can have some breakfast!"
My eyes shot open. Jumping off the bed, I rushed to my dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. I grabbed my towel and my bath robe then ran to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water soothed my bones and dispelled the last vestiges of my sleepless night. I wrapped the towel around my head as I brushed my teeth.
The kitchen smelled of pancakes and maple syrup when I joined my dad at the table. He eyed my wet hair, "its cold outside Bells, you shouldn't walk out with wet hair. You'll catch a cold." I scoffed and pointed at the kitchen window with my fork. "I don't think it matters, dad." The weather had turned grizzly during the night and it had been raining none stop ever since.
He chuckled, "I suppose your right."
"Of course I am," I said looking down at my watch. "But you're right about my being late for school, I have to hustle." I stuffed a large piece of pancake and washed it down with milk. Running around to my dad, I placed a kiss on his forehead. "Wish me luck," I said with fake cheer.
"You won't need it. You're a natural, everyone will love you," he said. He heard me scoff as I walked to the hall closet and laughed. I pulled out my new coat and put it on, slung my shoulder bag then ran out the door.
The rain almost blinded me as I ran out of my house, pausing only to close the door behind me. I was starting to get a little worried I wouldn't be able to find my way to school. My father had given me pretty good directions but they wouldn't make a bit of difference if I couldn't see the road.
Luckily it wasn't hard to find. The school was a big, brick, one floor building, broken down into sections of different height. It had a large domed canopy made of what looked like green tinted plexiglass supported by long metal pillars. In front of the school was a sign with the words FORKS HIGH SCHOOL printed in bold gray letters, framed by multihued stones. I'd have to be stupid and blind not to miss it.
Relief poured through me as I noticed the parking lot was empty. My truck had not shut up since leaving my house and I didn't want to draw attention to myself. I passed a building with an administration sign printed in white on a glass door. There was a "No parking sign" in clear view, but today felt like a rule breaking kind a day, I might as well break this one. Pulling in slowly, hoping my truck wouldn't alert anyone about my criminal actions I rushed into the tiny building, trying-in vain- to not get wet.
The woman behind the counter smiled up at me. My eyes scanned my surroundings, not knowing what to expect. This room was small, and made ever smaller by the long counter which cut it in half. The walls were mint green, and there were cork boards every where cluttered with the schools notices and events. The carpet looked old, worn and moist.
"Hello, dear, how can I help you?" The woman asked. She was clearly wondering if I even belonged there.
"I'm new here," I said. "I really don't know where to go. I figured I'd ask."
She smiled brightly and her thick red glasses shifted up her broad face.
"What's your name?" She asked me.
"Isabella Swann," I responded.
The woman's eyes widened and she studied my face more closely. Subconsciously my fingers reached up to see if anything was stuck or dangling from it. She noticed and quickly looked away.
"Yes, Isabella Swann. Your father is really happy to have you home at last." She said this while she searched for something in her highly disorganized desk. "Ah, here it is. That one gave me a little trouble to find." She pulled a pack of papers out of a pile of other seemingly unrelated packs. I smiled indulgently at her.
"I'm Mrs. Cope by the way," she smiled back. "This is your schedule," she told me. Her hand brushed a loose strand of red hair off her face. "You can go straight from here to your first class. Just take a left here," she traced an invisible line around a square which had Administration printed inside it. Then she highlighted the route so that I wouldn't forget. She proceeded to do the rest of my classes in exactly the same way. When she finished my schedule looked like it had been scribbled on by a six year old with bright yellow marker. I couldn't tell which way to go anymore but something told me that asking Mrs. Cope to explain it all again wouldn't be the best idea. "Give this to all your teachers," she handed me a small slip of paper which read attendance. "Just bring it back to me at the end of the day."
"Thanks," I told her and nodded my head as if I understood her perfectly.
"Oh, you're very welcome dear and good luck." I nodded again not wanting to open my mouth for fear of what would have come out.
Once more I rushed back into the rain. The packet of information and my attendance slip clutched tightly to my chest. Grabbing the slippery handle of my car door I managed to pry it opened and toss my papers next to me. My stomach constricted as I noticed the parking lot had grown full with vehicles and kids. I breathed deeply and turned on my car, which burst into noise. Through my peripheral vision I saw some kids smirking at me and others pointing at my beat up pickup. It wasn't rational to be angry, they were right, but that's what usually happened when I was been mocked. My cheeks started to burn and my teeth bit the inside of my mouth. Who were they to criticize my truck? It wasn't as if their cars were in any better condition, I noted. Staring about I could see the many cars parked around me and noted the same signs of distress in all of them, rust spot and dents. The only car that would be considered pretty was a shiny silver Volvo that must belong to a teacher or they kept staring at me as if my car was an oddity. This was just like California, they're stares reminded me of the stares of the Cali kids. It would only be a matter of time before I got a nickname. California kids had there favorites, Craza-Bella, Weirdo, That Austen Chick. The Forks kids should compare and then come up with a better one.
Despite my qualms about Mrs. Cope's dubious directions, Room three wasn't all that hard to find. I filed in next to two girls in matching bright pink raincoats.
The teacher was young, early thirties, with a naturally good natured face. I waited for him to notice me. "You must be my new student" he said smiling warmly. "I'm Mr. Mason."
"Bella" I said, handing him my slip to sign. He handed it back, his signature printed in bold letters on it and directed me to the back of the room. Thankfully he hadn't had the foresight to introduce me to everyone. I had a feeling this would be my best class. He then brought my text book, my assignment schedule and the reading list.
"Don't worry if you don't catch up right away," he said. "I'm not a tyrant, I understand."
"Thanks," I told him. I didn't want to point out that I had read every one of the books on the reading list at least twice already.
The class past by in a blur, I was day dreaming for most of it. As good natured as Mr. Mason was, he didn't hold my attention as some of my old English teachers had. His lecture was straight forward with no exciting twist or turns. Like a ride in an amusement park that only went round and round. The ring of the bell that signaled the end of class startled me.
I was packing up my new book in my bag when a boy with bad acne and black oily hair sauntered over to where I sat. I looked up, mystified at his sudden interest.
"Isabella Swann?" he asked.
"Bella" I corrected. In that instant, I could swear that every face in the class turned in my direction. Murmured voices began to be heard outside, but no one inside the classroom seemed in much of a hurry to join them.
Scrambling off my seat I headed for the door. The boy was next to me in a flash, keeping up with my hurried steps. My head was bent down scanning my map intently, I was afraid my next class wouldn't be as easy to find as this one.
"Government with Jefferson," he told me, as my finger skimmed over it. "I'm heading close to there."
My head snapped up and my eyes narrowed. He looked contrite, obviously understanding that staring over someone's shoulder was bad manners. I smiled, my lips widening slightly to let him know that I wasn't angry. He had offered his help and I wasn't about to start making enemies when I hadn't even made friends yet.
"Thanks," I said. "That would be a big help."
He stared at my map doubtfully, "Mrs. Cope is a nice woman, but she lacks common sense." I grinned with more enthusiasm.
"I'm Erick, Bella," he said extending his hand for me to shake.
"Nice to meet you," I shook his hand briefly. We fell into step with each other. Erick wasn't that much taller than me, I didn't have to power walk to keep up. The bad thing was he liked to talk, a lot. He kept up a slew of questions which range from the normal to the bizarre.
"So you're from sunny Cali?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said, not wanting to elaborate.
"Being under a Cali sun should have given you a perma-tan, shouldn't it?" he asked.
"I had the Michael Jackson procedure done on me." My sense of humor didn't come across. He just stared at me with an "is she serious" expression on his spotty face. I would have thought that would deter him from asking any more questions but after a pause he just continued with as much enthusiasm as before.
As we neared the door of my classroom, he turned to me. "This is it," he said. "I saw some classes we'll have together later," he said. I simply nodded feeling weird, because I wasn't used to this type of attention. "See you later." He ran to his next class which didn't seem to be in anyway near this building. The rain had turned into a soft drizzle.
My whole day had gone mainly the same. People continued to be generous with their help and I was never lost when it came to getting to my classes. To my intense embarrassment Erick and I did have a couple of classes together. The weather apparently made sarcasm impossible because every time I'd attempt a joke people just looked at me strange. But they seemed nice on the whole. Girls my age wanted to walk with me and have conversations with me. My teachers weren't horrible, except Mr. Varner my Trigonometry teacher. His subject was my second least favorite and he was the only one who made me introduce myself, like a five year old in kindergarten. The embarrassment got the better of me; I tripped over my own feet and stuttered out my words. There was muffled laughter from my fellow classmates and pitying glances from my new friends.
I was dragged to lunch, arm in arm with a girl whose name I couldn't remember from my previous Trigonometry class. She asked her friends to make room for me at their lunch table. I then proceeded to make stilted conversation and stared down at my food. It was while I answered a particularly annoying question from a platinum blond with a puckered up expression, like a bull dog who had run head long into a wall several hundred times, that my eye strayed and I noticed the group of kids sitting alone. They were as far away from the other students as the room allowed.
Five faces who stared, not at each other, but in completely different directions. They're lips didn't move, they obviously weren't conversing, they weren't eating either, and unlike most of the kids in the cafeteria they weren't looking at me. Taking advantage of that fact I stared.
My eyes scanned each of the faces, taking in their features, each as or more beautiful than the next. There were three guys and two girls and they sat unmoving with a far away look as if lost in day-dreams. One of the guys was seriously brawny with curly brown hair. He had a slightly petulant look on his face like a misbehaving child. Another had honey blond chin length straight hair and a stoic expression, his brow was slightly furrowed, in frustration maybe. The last looked younger and much less muscled than the previous two, his hair was bronze-colored and dishevel, my eyes lingered on his face the longest. His boyish face was heartbreakingly beautiful. He looked sad and lonely and I felt an immediate familiarity with him.
Both girls were opposites in everyway. One was supermodel-like, with long waves of light blond hair. Her long legs were crossed under the table, as were her arms across her chest. She stared vapidly towards the doors that let out of the cafeteria. The other was tiny to an extreme with a tuft of black hair that extended in all directions, she sat ramrod straight except for her head which tilted at an angle. Her face was expressionless and her eyes, I noticed, were staring vacantly across the room.
As much as they were different, there were still obvious similarities and that's what made me stare. They're features were so perfect. They're straight noses and bow shaped lips, they're pallid complexions or the shadows under they're eyes, couldn't all be coincidence. Yet could they be related?
"She's noticed the Cullen's," whispered the puckered up blond in her nasty nasally voice. At that moment, before my eyes turned from them to the blond, his eyes looked up. My gaze fell down and I turned my head quickly in embarrassment. After a few minutes of indecision I hazard another look, staring at them over my shoulder. I was relieved he wasn't looking at me. Instead he stared down at his long fingered hands, his face set in an angry expression. The pixie girl wasn't looking away anymore, she was staring at him her eyes wide. Her small chest rose as if she had taken a deep breath then rising with her tray she rushed to the garbage can. As gracefully as a dancer she dumped her untouched food and walked out the double doors. My eyes returned to the table were the others sat as still as if nothing had happened.
"Bella?" asked the girl from my Trigonometry class. "Are you alright?"
I pried my eyes off the group unwillingly. "Yeah, just fine," I responded absently. I thought about asking her who they were, but I kept it to myself.
"The Cullen's," she answered my unspoken question. "He's looking at us," she whispered to the girl next to her. Mechanically I turned my head and sure enough his eyes focused on her. Then they turned to me, and his gaze pierced mine as if he were concentrating very hard.
The girl huffed sourly. "He has never really noticed anyone before," she told me.
"Who are they?" I finally asked, my curiosity taking the better of me.
"Emmett and Edward Cullen, Jasper and Rosalie Hale," she told me. "There is another girl, a brunette but she's not there now." I supposed she meant the girl who had left earlier.
"Jessica," the blond girl called from across us, "do you want to go to the movies Saturday?" They stared to talk, and she forgot all about me instantly. My foot tapped impatiently, I was annoyed that she had left me with half a story. As soon as I was sure their conversation was at an end I asked her what that other girls name was.
"Alice Cullen," she told me.
"They're really…they look okay," I didn't want to make my sudden obsession too apparent.
"Ye-e-ah," she said, exaggerating the word. "They're HOT! Unfortunately they're a match set," she said sadly.
I tried to understand that statement, "A matched set?"
She rolled her eyes, "You know, together, Emmett and Rosalie and Alice and Jasper, that is."
"Oh," I said, finally understanding.
"The whopper is that they all live together," her eyes widened at the implication.
In a way I agreed with her. California may be filled with crazy characters but this particular situation would be strange even there, let alone here.
"Who is who?" I asked her changing the subject. I could tell she was getting annoyed by my everlasting questions, but I just couldn't stop.
"The blond is Rosalie, and the other blond is her brother Jasper. The big muscled guy is Emmett, and Edward is his brother, the one with the messy hair. Alice is they're sister." I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding when she made the distinction between Edward and Emmett. "Edward, Emmett and Alice aren't related, they're like, adopted or something. But Rosalie and Jasper are blood siblings. They're the kids of a sister of Mrs. Cullen I think."
"And the red haired guy, Edward, isn't with anyone?" My question was mostly due to curiosity. How could a guy that good looking not be attached to an extremely lucky girl? But Jessica misunderstood completely, she stared at me warily. "No, but like I said he doesn't really notice anyone." It was a warning if ever I heard one. It clearly read "Don't even try, it isn't worth it." I ignored her probing eyes.
"How old are Mr. and Mrs. Cullen?" I asked.
"Dr. Cullen," she corrected. In my mind I pictured a wrinkled old man with white hair and glasses. Jessica continued talking, not noticing my brief inattention. "I don't know, really young," she said. "Late twenties, I believe."
My eyes widened, I questioned why people that young would take over raising other people's kids. "That's really nice, since they're so young and everything."
"Sure." Jessica said unimpressed. "Mrs. Cullen can't have kids though." How did that make any difference? I thought. And how did she get so much information on them since they didn't appear at all sociable. To picture any of them conversing with Jessica like regular kids, telling her their life's story just didn't seem possible. Jessica seemed overly bitter about the whole situation. The rest of the lunch hour was spent on mindless conversation about guys and for friendship's sake I tried to join in, but I was quickly overwhelmed by all the names and details. Looking around me for a way out, I noticed the girl I sat next to whose name still escaped me. She had been immersed in a book for the whole Lunch hour and had supplied nothing to the mindless chattering.
It felt wrong to disturb her and I was about to forget it when she lifted her head up and shut her book in frustration. Her gaze rose to me as if she noticed me for the first time sitting next to her and smiled. She had a friendly face, and large benevolent brown eyes with stick straight hair of the same color.
"That must be a really good book," I told her.
She laughed, "I get too attached. The heroine always picks the guy I don't like."
I felt closer to her in that small conversation than to Jessica whom I had been talking with none stop.
"I'm Bella," I told her.
"Oh, I know," she said and blushed. "I'm Angela."
After a couple minutes of silence in which we tried to find something to talk about she asked, "How do you like Forks?"
"It's wet," I said simply.
She laughed again, and nodded. Finally, I sighed in relief, a person who didn't let the weather impact her sense of humor.
"I heard what you were asking Jessica. The Cullen's are interesting to say the least," she told me turning serious. "They're a bit scary though."
In a way I was happy that the conversation had turned to the Cullen's again. "I have never seen them in all my summers here. I can't understand how I could have missed them."
"They only moved here a couple of years ago. They used to live up in Alaska some where, Denali I think," she blushed again. "My moms a nurse in the hospital and she's a bit noisy," she explained. "They never talk to anyone and they make no friends. They prefer to stay together."
Again I felt that overwhelming sense of familiarity. Like me they were new to this town, the squares in a sea of circles. I wasn't the only anomaly and that made me relax a little. Involuntarily my head turned to their table again. My face fell as they all rose from their seat in unison and left the table together. Moments later the bell rang, making me jump half a mile out of my seat.
Angela touched my arm hesitantly. "What class do you have next?" She asked.
"Biology II," I told her.
She smiled widely, "I do too. I'll show you the way." I thanked her, ignoring her easy blushes.
The class was already crowded with students as we entered it. Angela squeezed my hand in encouragement, and then walked to her own table and sat next to her partner. I walked to the teacher and handed him my slip, he signed it without looking at it and handed me a book. His stubby finger pointed to the one empty seat in the center of the room and the color faded from my already pale face. Edward Cullen sat unmoving on the stool next to it. His eyes followed me as I made my way to him. Angela had been right, there really was something extremely scary about Edward Cullen. As I drew near him I saw him stiffen slightly, his nostrils flared and his eyes grew round. When I took my seat, his stool moved silently away from mine. His hands balled up on the desk as if I had personally insulted him and he was barely controlling his anger. I was about to introduce myself and maybe even extend my hand when he threw me a menacing glance, one that told me to back off. His dark gaze made me eat my words and I averted his eyes by letting my hair cascade down to form a barrier between us.
Did I smell bad or something? I conspicuously smelled my shirt, trying to decipher the odor that had offended him. Peeking between my curtains of hair I caught sight of his black pitiless eyes. A strange chill ran down my back and my body shook involuntarily. What's wrong with you, Bella Swann, I thought to myself. I tried to pay attention to the teacher, but the whole time I was always aware that Edward Cullen was glaring at me.
I kept my head bent down over my notebook pretending to take notes. His pale hands remained clenched in fists, his pencil, his notebook and his open biology book lay forgotten in front of him.
Suddenly he bolted off his chair as if it had electrocuted him and swiping his arm across his side of the table he scooped his book, his notebook and pencil into his opened bag and almost ran out the door. Mr. Banner stared at him stupefied. Everyone else in the class had seized to move and was staring at our table opened mouthed. Seconds later the bell ran, startling me for the second time today, I glared at the stupid bell hatefully. Slowly, I packed my bag, making sure I didn't have time to run into sour face Edward Cullen as I walked to the Gym.
Just thinking about what was next made my hands clammy and my stomach tighten, making me forget Edward Cullen for a second. Back home I was considered a menace in my P.E. class. I had once sent a girl to the hospital with a broken nose when I tripped on the basket ball and slammed her into the wall. Not to mention my long list of P.E. related accidents that had sent me to the nurses' office, the principal had almost considered taking me out of the class altogether. Instead it was agreed that I could sit out of most of the activities, in the end the only thing I had to do was show up dressed in my Gym clothes and it would count towards my grade. That didn't make me very popular with the rest of the class who thought I was getting preferential treatment and was playing up my "disability" to get out of making a real effort.
"You're Isabella Swann?" I heard a voice ask directly behind me. Grimacing I turned to face a handsome blond with gelled up spiky hair and guileless blue eyes. He held out his hand to shake, smiling happily at me.
"Just Bella," I told him, shaking his hand timidly.
"Okay Just Bella," he joked. "I'm Mike Newton."
I knew the name well, because it had been repeated over and over at our lunch table. I smiled tightly.
"Where you heading?" he asked.
"Actually I'm heading over to the Gym," I told him miserably. He stared at me, then smile.
"Not a fan of P.E. I take it?" He assumed right.
"Not in the least, and you would understand why if you knew my history with the subject." He laughed at that. I began to understand why the girls at lunch had devoted so much time on Mike Newton, he was a likeable guy.
"I happen to have P.E. next also. I'll show you the way, if you don't mind," he looked extremely excited at the prospect of escorting me to the Gym. A couple of the girls gave me sour looks as he led me out of the classroom.
In that little space of time it took for us to get from the Biology Room to the Gym, I had learned a great deal about Mike Newton. He talked most of the way, not needing me to supply anything more than the occasional "yes" or "no."
He was originally from Tampa Bay, Florida. He had moved to Forks when he was eight. His parents moved here in order to start a business. They owned an outdoors supply store on the outskirts of town, which apparently got a lot of business from all the backpackers that ran through here. "It was a good business move," he admitted. I had a feeling he didn't like the rain too much either. "There aren't a lot of other stores like us around here and we get most of the business because we're the best equipped." He was right. Apparently he had only one sibling, a little sister named Jennifer who was five. His mom used to be a real estate saleswoman, and his dad an accountant. My brain was getting information overload. When the Gym building came into view I breathed a sigh of relief.
"I'm boring you," he said self-consciously.
"No," I managed to say before he launched into chatter mode again. "Cullen didn't seem very happy to have you as a partner?" he said. I blanched at the mention of his name.
"The guy next to me you mean?" I asked making believe I didn't know who he was.
"Yeah," he said, thrilled that I apparently didn't know his name yet. Did he expect me to know his life story by now? Yet I kind of did, I thought on reflection. How long had these people been the subject of speculation? I didn't blame them for wanting to stay apart. They were probably tired of answering stupid questions.
"Weird guy, that one," he said staring at me. "With such a pretty partner I'd be thrilled." I smiled, and we lapsed into silence the rest of the short way.
When we crossed the threshold of the Gym building, Mike greeted a couple of friends just inside the door who were waiting for the class to start. What I expected to see I really don't know. Everything in this town was so outdated. Instead I came into a semi modern room of moderate size, flanked by bleachers of dark mahogany on one side and two sets of doors on the other. There were hoops hanging on opposite walls of the Gym. Small windows rose high up the wall and the room was cast in a gloomy light, made ever gloomier by the swirling clouds outside. The teacher stood in the center of it all, her arms behind her back.
"Couch Clapp," Mike leaned in to whisper in my ear. I gulped loudly. Some thing told me that Couch Clapp wasn't the sympathetic type. She was muscle bound and mannish, with an oddly square jaw and short dyed blond hair. Her beady gray eyes shifted to me as I walked closer.
"My newest pupil," she said with relish. It sounded more like my newest victim. "I hope you're here to work hard, because that's what we do, right Newton?" She turned to Mike.
"See you later, Bella," he said and walked swiftly from me to the Boys locker room. Again I gulped loudly.
Couch Clapp walked into the Girls locker room and came back with a mustard yellow t-shirt in a medium size, and handed it to me.
"You don't have to dress down today," she told me. "But I do expect you to be ready tomorrow." I nodded and she smiled.
She then directed me to the bleachers were I had a clear view of how she did things. Everyone was far too distracted to pay attention to me, and that left me free to observe them. Today they were playing volleyball and they all seem to play extremely well. Tomorrow I would have to endure this torture. Mike waved at me from his position and was smacked in the head with a ball for his efforts. Couch Clapp yelled at him for his lack of attention. I felt terrible even thought it wasn't my fault.
By the time the class was over, my spirits had sunk to the soles of my feet. Not wanting Mike to regale me with more endless chatter I didn't wait for him to come out of the locker room. Instead I slipped out as soon as the bell rang.
The wind outside had developed into hurricane like gust. I draped my new P.E. shirt on my shoulder bag and fought my way to my truck. Once safely inside I started the engine and was about to pull out when I suddenly remembered the slip which had been signed by all my teachers. Hadn't Mrs. Cope told me to bring it back to her at the end of the day? I sighed and again pulled into the forbidden spot I had occupied this morning.
I was about to open the door, when I noticed the figure bent down speaking to Mrs. Cope. Edward Cullen was instantly recognizable by his unique coppery locks. His back was to me and completely unaware of my presence. I debated whether I should forget the slip altogether, I bet it wasn't anything new to not deliver it. Maybe I could pretend I forgot and give it to Mrs. Cope tomorrow. Unfortunately the decision was taken off my hands when a brunette with glasses walked around me and opened the door. The wind whipped into the small room and Edward Cullen swung around to pierce me with an antagonistic stare. The girl held the door open for me, and I thanked her. She placed a piece of paper on the desk then walked out again, unaware of the friction that had arisen in that tiny office.
"It's impossible then, I understand," he said in a warm buttery voice, not staring at Mrs. Cope. "Forget I ever mentioned it."
"One minute Edward…" Mrs. Cope began but before she finished Edward Cullen was out of the office. She stared after him confused.
"Do you want me to call him back," I said struck stupid by my own words.
"No, dear thanks," she said to my utter relief. "I just don't understand. He was in here for thirty minutes trying to convince me to change his Biology II class to another time. It seemed pretty necessary for him. I finally relent just as you walked in and he changes his mind. The fickle youth," she sighed and began to type something on the computer beside her. My hands became cold as ice and my body trembled slightly. He didn't want to share Biology with me, which would be the only possible reason for his wanting to change his class. What was his deal? I asked myself.
Mrs. Cope took my attendance slip and tucked it in a file. "Thank you dear, you have no idea how many kids forget to hand these things in, makes my job a lot harder." If I had known sooner I wouldn't have even made the effort.
I nodded stiffly, and walked out into the gusting wind and wet. For once I didn't care that it was raining, the weather matched my mood. As I climbed into my truck and closed the door, the weight of my exhausting day came down on me. I curled on my seat, shivering. The town of Forks was miserable, I hated Edward Cullen and he hated me, my teachers were all as dull as bread and P.E. was going to be a personal hell. In my present state of mind I couldn't even see the good parts of the day, like Angela, Mike and Jessica, my new friends or the kind teachers like Mr. Mason. All I focused on were the negatives. I must have been a real witch with a capital B in a past life, to deserve this in this one. Should I heed my mom's words and return to California?
An even worse shiver of fear ran through me as I thought about what going back would mean. This day isn't going to crumble me, I thought. I'm not going to let a bad day run me out of Forks. I shifted my position on the seat and turned the engine on. I took a deep breath and held it in reconciling myself with the inevitable. This was my place now and I wasn't going to runaway, no matter what. Pulling out of the parking lot I headed Home.
I think I shouldn't have stuck so closely to the story at times. But in my opinion if I hadn't it wouldn't be a rewrite. The other chapters are going to be a bit more different and deviate more from the
original, promise. About the things I did change: I gave Bella a real reason for her to leave her mother, and that was Phil. Also I believe that if you're going to give a character a personality flaw that
you should go all out, hence Renee, the high school drop out, pregnant at sixteen, complete clueless woman. Making her dad cook explains itself. Most importantly I had to change the end a bit. I
never thought that it was plausible for Edward to not smell her when she came in... I hope you enjoyed it and PLEASE REVIEW!