Okay trying one where everyone is human.
Bella is the clumsy painter from Pheonix and Edward is the gradation artist with a broken heart.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.
The ride from the airport to Charlie's place was a quiet one. He was a little enthusiastic when I told him I decided to move from Phoenix to live with him, but he usually wasn't one for expressing feelings through talking: something I inherited from him. That's what my painting is for.
I started painting one of the months I stayed in Forks in the summer out of boredom.
My first masterpiece: Green all over the paper with a strip of gray over it to signify the only two colors I saw here.
Even though it was simple, I got hooked right away.
I carried a brush, a little plastic assortment of oil paint, and paper on my lap, looking out the window of the police cruiser: I saw a field covered in moss and grass and decorated it with blotches of flowers the color of purple, blue, and the value of white.
I soon transformed it into an area of pure warm and cool color: The thick clouds overhead evaporated in the sun into an array of yellow-orange, light red and deep gold sky with dark blue cirrus clouds, making it appear as if it held they finest treasures this world had to offer. The ground darkened into an ocean with the dark green trees, grass, and moss as the waves as the wind whirled them around and the flowers as the fishes fighting against the current-
"Bella?" Charlie said, snapping me out of my artistic fantasy, which I have to remember to paint later.
"Yeah Dad?" I asked sheepishly.
"You want to get your things out of the car?" He said obliviously, though I knew that he knew what I was up to just now. He doesn't mind though; as long as I'm doing something that will keep me entertained in Forks, he's happy.
I looked out the window again and saw that we were in front of Charlie's house.
"S-Sure Dad." I stuttered.
I got out of the car and headed to the trunk; that's when I noticed an old red Chevrolet truck in the driveway on the driver's side of the police cruiser.
"Um Dad? What's with the truck?"
"I sort of…bought it as a homecoming gift." He said in that same sheepish tone. "Remember Billy Black?"
I nodded.
"Well he offered his truck to me because he's in a wheelchair, and I thought you'd want to have it."
"Wow Dad thanks, but you didn't have to, I mean, I was going to buy a car-"
"I know Bella, but that wasn't too expensive and I wanted to buy it."
"Okay, thanks again dad." I wasn't too fond on people spending so much money on me, but if Charlie seemed happy about it, so I didn't complain.
"You're welcome, lets get you're things inside so you can unpack, you start school tomorrow."
Forks High School was no different from any other school I've been in: Outside, covered in God only knows how many bricks with glass windows revealing some of the classrooms with a normal-sized parking lot. Inside, it retained a pale white wall with red lockers outlining the sidewalls. Except, there were less kids, and ALWAYS soaked from the roof to the ground due to the rain. I hoped I could imagine colors to decorate it, and soon.
The office wasn't very different, except for the fact that the floors were carpeted and had a bunch of wooden desks everywhere.
"Hello Miss…" the woman with red hair at the front desk said. "Isabella Swan."
"Bella." I corrected her. I never really liked it when people called me by my full name. I really, in honesty didn't know why exactly.
"Yes." The woman said. "Well Bella, my name is Mrs. Cope. Here is your schedule and papers. I would like you to get them signed by each of your teachers and bring them back to me at the end of the day."
I nodded and took the papers to my first class. I looked at my schedule to see that my first class was art. Yes! I said internally.
I looked at the schedule more closely to see what the room's number it is: Room 210 on the second floor. I climbed the stairs and walked around the hall at least twice, looking at all the plaques in front of the doors, all to no avail.
I sighed, knowing the bell would ring soon, and I didn't really want to draw any attention to myself by asking any kids.
"Hey." A boy called in my direction.
I thought he must have been calling to someone else, so I didn't turn around and kept on walking in search of the art room, which I doubted even existed at this point.
I felt a hand grip my arm and spin me around in the opposite direction. I saw the hand belonged to a boy with a round face with dark blue eyes and spiky blond hair.
"Um…hi?" I said, more of a question than a really gesture.
"Hi." He said. I recognized his voice as the one who said 'hey' a few moments ago.
"Um, do you need help finding your class?"
I blushed, guessing that my searching around the same hallway twice must have looked ridiculous to other kids in the hall.
I just nodded and showed him my schedule.
"Ah, art. Hard to find."
I rolled my eyes.
"That's where I'm going, come on I'll show you." He said, gesturing me to follow him with his hand.
I smiled and followed.
"You're Isabella Swan, right?" He asked.
"Just Bella." I clarified.
"Cool I'm uh I'm Mike Newton."
I just nodded.
"So art." Mike said, a bit awkward. "You like art?"
"Yeah. Do you?"
"Not really, I always suck at anything we do, even after the teacher tells us what to do."
"I'm a really good painter." I said, a bit smug.
"Can you teach me?" He said, more confident this time.
"Um…Maybe." I said, awkwardly this time.
We walked in silence rest of the way. I turned out that the art room was in a, 'dead end' piece of the wall way that only contained three doors. I saw it on my two trips, but I thought they were janitor closets or something. I blushed thinking about it.
"Well, here we are." Mike said, making me jump.
"Thanks." I said
"No prob." He said. "Hey listen, do you want to sit at lunch with me? I could introduce you to my other friends." He sounded a little shy in the latter.
"Um…" I said. I really didn't want any more attention than I already had, but I didn't want to be rude. "Sure."
He smiled as we entered the Art room. It was like my other art rooms: large tables covered in this thin wood material that people usually drew on and where extra paint landed if it didn't make it on to the canvas, each occupied groups of two to five. I saw a table with only one occupant in the back corner, but I focused on getting to the teacher. Each flat surface was covered in papers, canvases, various art supplies, etc.
I didn't look at anyone as I walked to the front of the room to the teacher: A somewhat young man with a big nose, curly black hair, and wore glasses with thin arms and lenses.
"Mr. Molina." Mike called.
He looked up to see me with my papers. He signed them without a word.
"Mr. Cullen." Mr. Molina said.
I followed his gaze to the only open seat in the room, in the back corner. My jaw dropped to the floor when I finally saw the one Mr. Molina called 'Mr. Cullen': He had a perfectly straight face with hypnotic emerald green eyes, topped off with untidy bronze-colored hair. He looked like a god.
He looked up, first to Mr. Molina, then me, and back to him again.
"Could you move your things over to make room for your new partner?"
'Mr. Cullen' did so without answering.
As I walked over to the table, I tripped over some one's backpack and had to catch myself on a table to avoid falling on my face, earning a few giggles from the other kids.
I sat down blushing a deep crimson. When I looked at 'Mr. Cullen', he was staring at a drawing in front of him. It didn't contain any color, it was more like gradation: The page had streaks scattered everywhere, resembling rain and a boy hunched over on the ground in the middle. He had a sad, torn up expression that I didn't notice sooner, so I didn't say anything.
"Okay Class." Mr. Molina called.
I averted my gazed to the front, awaiting my next project.
Chapter 1 complete, let me know what you think- comments, ideas etc. TNX