I Think I Wanna Marry You

Chapter One

Alright, picture this:

A huge, long hallway with hundreds of teens boisterously flitting between slamming classroom doors. On the right, a group of girls in cheerleading uniforms and boys in jerseys. A feeling of Friday is in the air and the windows on the second floor allow fall sun to shine in on the busy-ness.

A girl, one of the few lacking a big, glittery bow and white tennis shoes, throws her long, shiny auburn hair over her shoulder and laughs, friends on either side of her. The crowds of people rushing to class cleared the way and stopped to say hello as they passed her.

That would be me, about a week ago.

Now?

"Please buckle your seat-belts, we will be landing shortly."

No no no no no no no no no no.

"Are you okay, dear? We'll land before you know it," my mom assured me, reading my panic incorrectly. I saw her knuckles turn white as she gripped the arm of her seat.

Within the next 30 minutes I was getting off the plane with my family and we were tossing our many, heavy bags on a luggage cart. I had packed as much as I could in my suitcases and loaded everything else into my car, which was transported here with my parents' suburban.

When we finally reached the parking garage I approached the lady behind the desk with extra pep in my step.

"Excuse me, my car was shipped up here. Do you happen to know where I can find it?"

"Was it with the Texas load?" The attendant droned.

"Yes, ma'am." I grinned. I heard they weren't formal up north, but a little southern charm never hurt anyone.

"It'll be on the third floor, row seven."

"Thanks so much. Have a nice day!" I briskly turned away and headed toward the elevator. My parents and siblings joined me on the ride up.

"Mom, John keeps looking at me!"

My mom took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"Then ask him to stop, Prissy."

My twin brothers, John and Henry, were easily the most irritating six-year-old's I knew. My 12-year-old sister Prissy wasn't much better.

The elevator doors slid open and I immediately hopped off, shoving Henry to the side. Row seven was about 25 yards away. I sprinted, my suitcases flying and bumping along behind me.

"Jo, slow down!" I heard my mom call after me. "Your brothers are trying to catch up to you." I barely slowed my pace and glanced behind me. My twin brothers were, indeed, racing to see who could reach me first. I ignored them.

"Ahhh!" I dropped everything and ransacked my purse for my keys when I reached my car, pressing the unlock button quickly. I searched for a corner to stash my bags and came up short. My car was packed to the brim.

My father, sensing my distress, rolled his eyes.

"Just stash it up front."

While my parents took their sweet time getting loaded into their car, I put our brand spankin' new address in my GPS. I was growing impatient, so I rolled down my window and caught my mom's attention.

"Hey, Mom? Mom! I've got my GPS; can I go please?"

"Fine. But be careful sweetheart!"

I left my window down and tore out of my parking spot like I had somewhere to be.

Forks, Washington, was a small, coastal town around four hours from Seattle, where my dad's new base was located. He wanted us to be close to the water in hopes that it would remind us of home. My dad was a quiet, cold man. But I knew he had sacrificed living on base to make us happy. His new weekly commute was his way of telling us he loved us.

For the majority of the drive, I was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. It was mostly a two-lane highway and I saw only one other car every few miles.

A sign reading 'FORKS: 7 miles' flashed by as I sped on. My heart picked up its pace. I reached for my phone and sent a quick text to my best friend, Alex.

'Seven miles...'

'Wooo!' he responded immediately.

I had a very bad habit of texting and driving. I was well aware of the repercussions... But my parents had always done it and well... Monkey see monkey do.

Ironically, just then, there was a flash of something in the woods and I swerved when it caught my eye. Silver, brown, black. Big blobs, moving swiftly, darting in and out of my sight. I wonder…?

My attention was stolen by one of my favorite songs coming on the radio. I turned it up high enough so that it would kill my eardrums but not my speakers. I sang as loud as I could, trying not to let the creeping sense of anxiety overcome me as I inched toward my new home.

Another sign read 'WELCOME TO FORKS! Population: 3,120.'

People turned heads as I sped through town at the direction of my GPS, music blaring.

"Destination Reached!" It said. I pulled into a straight driveway that lead to a simple two-car garage.

The house was relatively small. It had a cute little front yard with a concrete bench centered in the patch of grass to the left and lots trees framing the front walkway. A yellow, single-seat swing barely twitched from the breeze as it hung from a tree.

The house was obviously one-story, but I wasn't surprised by that. My dad had warned my siblings and I that houses in the north were often one-story with basements.

I hopped out my car and shut the door behind me. Where to begin?

There was a narrow concrete pathway between the house and the garage leading to the backyard, which was enclosed by a small wooden gate. I knew my brothers were going to destroy the already loose hinge within a week. I swung it open and went to check out the back yard.

It was green.

I know, I know. Duh! What color do I think grass is?

But there was so much of it.

In the South, backyards typically featured a patio with a huge fan and a pool to cool off in. There was no need for a excessive vegetation because it all died in the summer anyways.

This backyard was a complete rectangle of lush, green grass. In the corner there was a dried up patch of soil. It was surrounded by a tiny white fence suffering from serious rust erosion and obviously used to be a garden before being overtaken by weeds.

There were no trees in the fenced in area, but beyond the fence was thick woods. I wondered how far back they went. I remembered my mom mentioning a national forest nearby.

After taking in the amount of green outside, I was ready for a change of scenery. I texted my friends.

'Uhhh the plants are alive?'

There was a back door centered on the back of the house. I cautiously tried the doorknob. It was locked. I sighed and walked back to the front, guessing I would have to wait for my parents to arrive.

The neighborhood was very small. There were houses on one side of the road and the other side was lined by more thick forest. There was at least 50 yards between each house, and there were only one or two houses on the street that had second stories.

I started to pull boxes and suitcases out of my car as I waited for my family to finally arrive. There was rumbling down the road and I looked up, hoping it was my parent's beat up suburban, but saw an old, red truck instead. It slowed as it approached and pulled into the driveway next door. The engine cut off and a tall, skinny girl with brown hair tumbled out. I offered a tentative wave and a smile as I lugged another stack of boxes from my car. She returned the gesture and headed inside.

I wondered if she went to the high school I would be attending.

A few minutes later, just as I began to wonder if my family was still alive, I saw them barreling down the road. My father stopped in front of the house so harshly, I swore I heard the brakes screech. It was obvious why as soon as John swung the rear door open and leapt from his booster seat. Prissy was crying about something and Henry was passed out in the third row.

"Mom! Keys! I am dying here!" I yelled with my hands in the air. She looked worn and chucked them at my head. My dad opened the trunk and began unloading.

I furiously shoved the key into the front lock and jostled it until I heard a click. But the door wouldn't budge.

"DAAAD!" I screamed, now beginning to panic that I would never get into our new house and would soon have a mental breakdown from all of the built-up moving nerves. Before he could even answer, the door busted open and I stumbled into the entryway.

It was so... white.

The front door opened to a dining room on the left and a sitting room on the right. You could see straight to the backyard where huge windows and the back door connected the living room to the outside. The kitchen was positioned in the back-left corner. I walked in further to scope out the rest of the space.

On the other side of the living room from the kitchen were two bedrooms and a connecting bathroom. They were regularly sized and simple. The walls were bare besides the light gray coloring of the paint and a few shelves. The carpet was painfully boring and I spotted a small piece of tile missing in the bathroom.

I hoped the basement had more to offer.

THE BASEMENT!

I sprinted out of the two bedrooms and ran furiously around the house in search of the door leading to my safe haven. I found it, right between the dining room and the kitchen, and practically fell down the stairs to my discovery.

I flicked on the light and was greeted with a decently sized room with navy blue walls and thin, gray carpet. Shelves covered the back wall and the right wall sported another two doors. I slinked over to the first door, a little creeped out by the dark hues of the underground space.

The first door opened to yet another connecting bathroom and the second, another bedroom. I considered my options. My parents would most definitely stay in a bedroom upstairs. This meant, most likely, my brothers would be positioned to share the bathroom with them. Which left Prissy and I to claim the exciting basement space. I decided to let Prissy pick which navy-walled room she preferred downstairs because they were essentially the same and I needed brownie points.

The next few hours were a tedious process of hauling things in the house and slowly organizing the boxes into the rooms they belonged. By the time the sun set we were all hungry and exhausted. I called a gathering in my parents' room to discuss something very important to me: dinner.

"Alright here's the deal," my mom started, "I absolutely refuse to go to the grocery store today. So, we can order delivery or Josie can go pick something up."

I rolled my eyes. Ever since I had gotten my driver's license a year ago my parents had volunteered me to pick up everything from their morning coffee to my mom's laundered undergarments.

"Don't even bother acting like y'all are going to order in because you and I both know you are about to send me to get KFC." I scoffed.

"Jo, just please go this for your mother." My dad sighed. I smiled.

"I'm joking. Of course I will."

He reached in his pocket and handed me $40.

"You know where you're going?"

"No, but I'll figure it out!" I yelled, halfway out the door and walking briskly to my car before they could catch me and add anything else to my list.

The town seemed to have shut down with the sun because half of the businesses were already closed. There was a locally owned pharmacy, hardware store, an antique furniture store, a large plant nursery, an auto shop, the self-proclaimed Forks Outfitters, a café/gift shop, and a gently used clothing boutique. I was utterly astounded by the lack of civilization. The only chain restaurant was the KFC I was hunting for... located inside the gas station.

Perfect.

I placed my parents order and waited patiently at a booth inside.

'How's BFE?'

My friends finally responded to the mass group text I sent hours ago.

'Just as bad as you think it is, Drew.'

I sighed and rested my chin on my hand as I thought about what they were probably doing now. Fridays had been the best days of the week at home. School was always buzzing with plans for the weekend and whispers of a party at so-and-so's house. Girls planned their outfits with their friends and decided who to carpool with to the football game. About this time, I would be showered and ready to hit the town after a long day at school and soccer practice. My friends would be blowing up my phone about where we should go eat.

Alex, Drew, Tim and J.D. were my best friends. They played for the boys' soccer team at school and were undefeated in the San Antonio area. I played for the girls' team, so it was pretty natural when we all started hanging out after practice in middle school. We had been close ever since.

'Danielle literally just texted me asking what we were doing'

I knew the reply Tim was about to get before my phone even buzzed.

'Dude...'

The guys considered our Friday dinner routine pretty sacred. Go home after practice, shower, head to the burrito place. They always pretended they would consider a new spot, but we always ended up piling in the car and heading to another queso-induced coma.

My parent's food was ready and I left to head back to the house. I thought about driving by the large campus that housed the elementary, middle and high schools, but decided I would wait to face that torture another day.

As I pulled up in my driveway, I noticed a gathering of teens in the yard next door. I hopped out and they waved. The girl with the brown hair I had seen earlier called over to me.

"Oh. Hey! Did you just move in?"

"Yeah!" I answered. "It was quite the process." I made a few steps in their direction. May as well not burn any bridges before I figured out who I liked. They met me halfway.

"I'm Bella. I live here with my dad." She jerked her hand toward the house next door. Her friends introduced themselves as Jessica, Mike, Eric and Angela.

"I'm Josie. We just moved here from San Antonio." I smiled, suddenly remembering I left all of the food in my car.

"That's awesome!" Jessica squealed. "I've always wanted to go to Texas." She said 'Texas' with a corny southern accent and I couldn't help the grimace that spread across my face. Mike laughed rowdily.

"We'll stop bugging you. Are you going to Forks high?" he asked. I was dreading this question. I was hoping to fly under the radar until I got a feel for the student population so I didn't get stuck with one friend group.

"Yep." I said casually, popping the 'p'. "I'm going to be a senior."

"Us too!" Bella grinned. "I'll have to get your number. Uhhh knock on my door whenever. Charlie is hardly ever home." She sounded insincere as hell, but I still appreciated the offer.

"That's really sweet." I said, and I meant it. At least I would have someone to pester with questions about Forks High before the first day. "I'll have to do that. It was really nice to meet y'all!" I leaned back toward my house.

"Yeah! Really cool!" The group nodded and smiled in agreement. We all waved and I headed back to my family with way too many bags of KFC in my hands.