With a farewell glance to my mother and step-father, I stepped out into the warm sun. Phoenix was so beautiful; the air was warm and tasted warm. It reminded me of stepping off a plane into a hot country. How could I go from beautiful sun to hideous cloudy days? The idea had haunted me ever since I'd made my decision. I consider myself to be pretty well attuned to people's thoughts, and I knew how much my mother wanted to travel. Living in Phoenix was her attempt to live a care-free life, but it just wasn't enough for her. Up until she met Paul, she put up with it and stuck around, for me. Paul came into her life, and she was instantly besotted. As for me, I'd never really found anyone that vaguely interested me. I just wasn't looking for a partner; I wasn't looking for a girl to be mine. I wanted to do right by my family and my friends and I settled for that. Paul wanted to travel, just like my mother, and so I couldn't stand in the way of it anymore. She insisted I come travelling with her but I knew that wouldn't work.
"I can go and stay with dad," I'd reminded her.
"You don't have to do that for me," she'd replied, but I'd already made up my mind. I was independent; I didn't mind doing this for her.
I got on a plane to the drizzly, miserable, horrible town of Forks. There was no point even attempting to be optimistic about Forks because, quite frankly, it sucked. I hadn't visited my dad here in so long because it made me feel just as miserable. When I called my dad, Mark, to tell him I was coming to stay, he seemed really happy. He wasn't much of a people person but he and I had always bonded quite well over things such as arts and sports.
Mark was waiting for me at the airport, in a small white car. He used this when he was off duty from being a fireman. I got in unwillingly and shot a glance at the red cherry light he had stuffed in the car in case there was an emergency. I laughed quietly to myself, nothing bad happened in Forks, ever. Mark threw me a wary look but I just shook my head. My father, a man of few words, let it go straight away.
We pulled up to the house, and I had to give it to my dad, he knew how to decorate. It was a small brick house but it looked homey, cottage like. It fit in the small town perfectly, but it belonged in a world of sunshine. It wasn't quite right under black clouds. Just as I had that thought, I heard thunder.
Great, I thought. Although storms were to be expected, I grimaced as rain started falling, and ran into my small house, trying not to think about how much I hated it.
Mark left me alone in my room, small and blue, with a desk and a guitar perched in the corner. I was glad that he had remembered we'd bonded over music, and thought this addition must have been to strengthen that.
Left alone with my thoughts, eventually my thoughts got as sad as my surroundings. I was worrying about starting a new school. It was so small, the entire pupil number being the same size as just one class in my old school. I was sure that people had gossiped about me, a miserable new boy coming from a big, hot city, moping around because he didn't want to be there. Who would like me? I've got to be honest; if I heard the gossip I wouldn't like me. I gave up thinking about that, hoping that some people would give me a break, reaching for my guitar. I started to play a tune, making it up as I went along. It sounded romantic, but that definitely wasn't something inspired by someone. I had never had romantic interest in anyone and was pretty sure I wouldn't until a much later stage of my life.