The first chapter will closely follow the Twilight book but it will start to branch off as the story progresses. Hope you guys like!
Disclaimer: Don't own nothing
Silence filled the car. My mom's brow scrunched in thought as she drove me to the airport. I took in a deep breath of the Florida air while rolling down the window. It was eighty degrees in Orlando, no clouds in sight and the sun shinning happily. I was wearing my favorite outfit-sleeveless, white eyelet lace, a pair of dark wash jeans, and my baby blue flip-flops. Buried in my backpack was a parka.
Miles away in northwest Washington State, a small town named Westchester exists under an almost-constant blanket of clouds. I believe it reads Rainiest Town in America on its welcome sign. My mother left the rain dwelling when I was only a few months old. I had been forced to spend a month every summer there until I was 14; I, with great determination, talked my dad, Jay, to vacation with me in California for two instead.
The place I dread is now where I exile myself, which I take with great honor like Gandhi and his hunger strike. I despised Westchester.
I loved Orlando; the sun, ocean breeze, and heat all played a part in this love. I abandoned it for rain, rain, rain, snow, fog, and some more rain.
"Claire," my mom said- for the millionth time since we reached the airport- before I boarded the plane. "You don't have to do this."
I am a clone of my mother except with longer hair and no laugh lines. That taste of pennies surfaced in my mouth as I stared at her wide, innocent eyes. Could I really leave my loving, crazy, harebrained mother to fend for herself? But, she had Vincent: so bills would be paid on time, food would be in the house, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost but still. . .
"I want to go," I was totally lying. At that very moment I was glad I had been saying so many lies lately that it started to sound convincing because before that I was a horrible lair.
"Tell Jay hi."
"Ok"
You can come back whenever you want. I'll come and get you as soon as you need me," she insisted with tears building up in her eyes.
"Don't worry about me," I urged. "It'll be great. I love you mom." We hugged tightly for a minute and then I go my way, onto the plane, and she goes hers.
It's a two-four flight to Seattle, another hour in a small plane, which induced a fear of tiny places, up to Port Angeles. Population 4000: Welcome to Nowhere. Then an hour drive to Westchester: Welcome to the middle of Nowhere. The small contraption of death didn't bother me as much as the thought of being in the car with Jay: this made me shake.
Jay had been really great about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased with my decisions. He already registered me for high school and promised to help me find a car.
Awkward silence filled the car with Jay. Both of us didn't know what to say. I could tell he was more than a little confused with my decision. After all, my distaste for Westchester was no secret.
The rain greeted me when I landed in Port Angeles. Some may have seen it, as an omen- I didn't it was unavoidable. My farewells to the seen were already done.
Jay and the cruiser were waiting for me: I expected this. Jay is Police Chief Lyons to the pleasant folks of Westchester. My main reason for buying a care, despite my lack of money, was my refusal to be driven around town in a car with red and blues lights on top. People seem to slow down and look inside when they spot a cop car.
Jay gave me a hug, which was weird maybe because he only used one arm.
"It's nice to see you Claire," he offered me a smile. I opened my mouth to answer when I tripped over my feet. Jay automatically caught and steadied me. "You haven't changed much. How's Judy?"
"Fine, It's good to see you too, Dad." I can't call him Jay to his face.
We only have to pick up a few backs. Most of my Florida clothes weren't proper for Westchester weather.
"I found you a really good deal on a car," he announced while pulling out of the parking lot.
"Really?" I asked, I did have a funny feeling about this car. Knowing Jay it was probably a mini van. I prayed to god, I was wrong.
"It's a truck, a Chevy."
"How did you find it?"
"Remember Billy Fisher down at La Push?" La Push is an Indian reservation about thirty minutes from town.
"No."
"Oh, he used to fish with us during the summer," he replied, trying to trigger something in my memory. Unfortunately, for him, I do a great job at blocking painful and unnecessary memories; fishing during the summer fell into that category.
"His is in a wheelchair now," I could feel his navy eyes staring at me but he continued when I didn't respond, "so he can't drive and offered to sell me his truck real cheap."
"How old is it?" I watched his expression change. Immediately I knew he hoped I wouldn't ask this question.
"Billy's done a lot of engine work. Practically it's only a few years old, really."
I wondered if he really thought I buy it. "When was the truck bought?"
"1984, I think," he muttered.
"Was it bought new?" I questioned, wondering how old this truck really was.
"No," he admitted sheepishly, "late fifties at the latest."
"Ja-Dad, I know nothing about cars. I will never be able to fix it when it breaks and a mechanic doesn't fit into my budget."
"Don't worry about it Claire, it runs perfectly."
I sighed, realizing Jay tried really hard even if he found a thing, "How cheap is cheap?"
"I kind of bought it already as a homecoming gift." He looked at me with a hopeful expression like I would jump for joy. No, I like to keep my feet planted on the ground. Besided when they are off the ground I tend to fall.
"You didn't have to do that. I have money to buy a car myself," It wasn't that I wasn't grateful; no, I just found it hard to wrap my mind around the fact Jay bought it for me.
"It's nothing really," his eyes stayed on the road, not daring to look at me, "I want you to like it here." Jay wasn't the type of guy who expressed his emotions aloud, he passed that on to lucky me.
So, I copied his stare when I responded, "Thanks Dad." I decided to leave out my happiness in Westchester is impossible, he shouldn't have to suffer with me.
"You're welcome," he mumbled; Jay's really not used to the display of emotions.
A few more comments about the weather were made; it was wet and after that the conversation died.
Reluctantly, I admitted it was beautiful. Everything was green including the air, which filtered down green through the leaves.
Perhaps it was too green; maybe, Westchester was an alien planet.
Finally, we made it to Jay's house; he still lived in a small, two-bedroom house. The same one he bought with my mom. There parked in the front of the house was my new-well to me-truck. Surprisingly I loved it: the faded red, big rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. Sure the thought that it could break down ran through my mind but I pictured myself in it. The truck looked like a Hummer could hit it and still it would be in one-piece.
"I really love it, Dad." Now my nightmare of a first day at school would be less horrific.
"Glad you like it," Jay gruffly muttered, embarrassed once again.
In one trip all of my stuff was upstairs. Hay let me have the west room, my room since I was born. The only things Jays changed where the crib for a bed and added a desk, which now held an old computer. A phone line ran along the wall for a modem; this would serve as my mother's main communication with me. I tried not to dwell on the fact there was only one bathroom that Jay and I would be sharing.
Jay's best quality is he doesn't hover. He allowed me to unpack and settle alone. My mom wouldn't be able to do this. The loneliness was nice, not to smile but to stare outside the window absent-mindedly and allow a few stray tears to fall. Simply because I wasn't in the mood to really sob that would be saved for bedtime as thoughts of Monday flooded my mind.
BOCD only had 357-now 358- students total. At my old school, there were more than 700 students in the junior class alone. Everyone had grown up together and now I was about to be the new girl, the freak.
For once, I was glad I didn't look like a stereotypical Florida girl, so maybe I could blend in at school Sure, I had blonde hair but it was more white blonde than beach blonde. And I wasn't tan but had ivory skin. My eyes were bright blue perhaps that could be my excuse for lack of a tan. I wasn't athletic; no, I lacked the hand-eye coordination needed for sports. Whenever I attempted sports it usually ended in embarrassment.
When I finished putting everything away, I decided to clean myself up after a day of traveling I felt pretty disgusting. I looked in the mirror as I brushed my tangled hair. My blue eyes seemed to pop against my pale skin, which looked unhealthy. I blamed the light, in the right light and with a tad bit of color maybe, I could pass as pretty. No, I decided no amount of color would help me. I was plain and should just accept it now to save myself from further disappointment.
Looking at myself I was forced to see I was only kidding myself. I would never fit in physically. Plus if I couldn't find a clique in a student body of 2000, what were my chances at BOCD?
Relating to people wasn't my strong point. Not only did I have trouble with relating to people my own age but in general. I couldn't even relate to my mother, who was close to me. We never seemed to be in perfect harmony. Maybe, there was a glitch in my brain.
It didn't matter what was wrong with me, just the effect it had on other people. Tomorrow was a fresh start and maybe people wouldn't notice my defect.
So what did you think, who do you think the other characters are going to be? What pairings do you want? Remember to review!