If Bella Were a Boy
Preface
I'd never seen a face like this, so evil, twisted by rage and bloodlust.
His icy fingers cupped my chin as his mouth curled to the side.
"Where is he?" he spat, a deep, guttural and animalistic growl burning in his chest. I tried not to scream against his fury, but was too weak to suppress my cries. I closed my eyes, biting down on my tongue.
"Look at me!" he screamed, crushing my leg with his mammoth strength.
I screamed, instinctively reaching out, my fist breaking against his cheek.
"Tell me...where he is." His voice came out like poison, slow and intoxicating, as his breath fanned my face.
"I...don't know," I sobbed, cradling my fist and wiping my tears.
"Liar!" he bellowed, squeezing my broken leg.
I felt my body convulse under the overwhelming rush of agony; blood sputtered from the open wound, staining his marble face. From my party open eyes, I could see him lick his lips and relish.
"P-p-p-plea-ea-eas-se," I stuttered.
He chuckled before holding down my broken leg.
I closed my eyes, hoping that Edward would not show up, that I had done my best, and that he would be safe.
One – The New Boy
When it's this hot, it's almost a miracle that anyone can even breathe in this weather. The sun is like a raging, yellow spore, stretching across the clear blue sky. What I'd do for clouds right now.
But I guess it doesn't really matter, since in a matter of hours, I'll be leaving all of this behind. My entire life here, in the sunny Arizona metropolis, will be over. I'm abandoning the bustling city life, for a more complacent and mundane existence in the perpetually rainy village – I mean "town" – of Forks, Washington.
"Wen," my mom said, frowning. She didn't take her eyes off of the road.
"Mom, I know what you're going to say... Just, don't," I said, looking away. If I see her cry, I'm going to cry.
She sniffled, sighing. "I'm sorry, honey."
"I need this," I said, for probably the fiftieth time.
"But why?"
"Mom, don't," I said, clenching my fists.
"Wendell, you don't have to go."
"Mom, please."
"I just don't understand."
"Mom."
"If you just explain it to me –," she tried.
"Mom!"
Just like that, she stopped. Great, it was bad enough leaving, now I was leaving and she was upset.
"Mom," I started, turning in my seat. She didn't look at me. "Mommy."
She smiled at that, but it was partly stifled by tears. "I'm going to miss you."
"Me too, mom. But...I just feel...like I need this. I can't go with you and Phil."
She nodded, but I don't think she understood.
When we get to the airport, reality sinks in.
"You come home right away if you don't want to be there anymore," she said, stressing over me for the last time.
She ruffled my hair and straightened my shirt.
"I will," I promised.
She nodded. "Okay, go on. You're going to miss your flight. Give Charlie a hug for me," she said, locking her arms around me.
And then she was gone, and my life in Arizona came to a stop.
It's hard to describe so much green. That's all Forks is, a green wonderland of perpetual rain and silver overcast. Everything seems to glow under the pale lights of Forks.
It's beautiful, don't get me wrong. But it's too much.
Charlie, my dad, picked me up from the airport in the police cruiser. Seeing it made me stop in my tracks; riding in the cruiser always made me feel like a stupid criminal.
"Hey, Wen," Charlie said, an awkward smile on his friendly face.
"Hi, dad," I said, mid-hug.
He took my bags, a total of two suitcases, seeing as all of my Arizona weather clothes was built for summer.
"How you been, kiddo?" he asked, stepping into the cruiser.
I shrugged. "Ok."
"How's Arizona?"
"Dry."
"And Renee?"
"She's good."
"And her husband? Phil, is it?"
I looked at him through narrowed eyes. "He's fine."
"School?"
This is question-answer thing is beginning to be too much.
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
"Dad."
He got stiff. Ever since I came out four years ago, Charlie's been trying to understand, but he always managed to make things more awkward.
"It's just a question, sport," he said.
"I know...but it's awkward talking to you about that," I frowned.
"Why? Do you talk to your mom about it?" he asked, hurt.
"No. And I don't have a boyfriend," I assured him.
He coughed silently. "I think you're going to like here. We just got a department store, and they're accepting applicants so I put in a good word for you."
Maybe a job and school would help me get over the decision of coming to live here.
"Thanks, dad," I said. "I was going to do some volunteer work at the hospital, too. I did it in Arizona and I really liked it."
"That's great. I'm sure Dr. Cullen will appreciate the help," he smiled.
"Dr. Cullen?"
"Yeah, he's the head doctor at the hospital."
We pulled into the driveway and I was flooded by memories. The little red house looked exactly the same, with white paneled windows and a dark brown door with a matching roof.
"Home sweet home," I mumbled under my breath.
Charlie opened the trunk and took out my luggage. I followed him to the front door and braced myself for the wall of school photos. Lining the soft blue walls of the hallway was the evolution of my awkwardness, from second grade to my sophomore year.
I looked the same, with dark brown, short cropped hair and blue eyes on pale skin. My ears used to be bigger, but I managed to grow into them somewhat, and my nose was upturned; I had my mom's lips.
"Dad, if I'm going to be living here, can we please take these down?"
Charlie set my suitcases down and sighed. "We can move'em, but I'd rather not take them down completely."
"Dad, please," I begged.
He raised his eyebrow.
"Fine," I said, taking my suitcases.
"I'll order pizza for dinner in an hour," Charlie called after me.
"No meat," I said.
He followed me upstairs. "No meat?"
I stopped in front of my bedroom door. "Yeah, I'm a vegetarian."
"I'll order half and half," Charlie said.
"Okay."
My room small, but there's a computer and a desk now, but my bed still has the bright yellow sheets I liked when I was ten.
"Wendell, hurry downstairs!"
"I'll be down in a second," I called.
I set my things down on my bed before heading downstairs. Charlie isn't in the living room so I go to the front.
He's standing on the porch, and when he hears me coming he beams.
"Got a surprise for you," he smiles.
In the driveway, next to the police cruiser, is a bright yellow VW Beetle, and inside is a teenage boy with long hair.
"You got me a car?" I asked, confusedly.
"In your favorite color!"
The boy, who seemed vaguely familiar, came towards us. He tossed Charlie the keys and smiled.
"Hey, Wen, remember me?" the boy asked.
Jacob, his name is Jacob, I remembered.
"Uh, yeah. Jacob?"
He nodded. "Yeah. How you been? It's been awhile."
"Yeah, like, five years, right?"
"Six," he corrected.
"Jacob's dad Billy sold the car to me," Charlie said. "It wasn't in very good working condition, but Jacob here is quite the mechanic, fixed her right up."
It was cute, and it was my favorite color. But I still had my reservations.
"Thanks, dad, that's really great of you," I started.
"But?" he asked, seeing right through me.
"What if the car breaks down? I'm a total idiot when it comes to those kinds of things," I said.
"That won't be a problem," Jacob interjected. "I changed the engine and she runs great."
He's still smiling at me; his eyes are dark but inviting.
"See, everything's fine," Charlie smiled.
I nodded. "Thanks, dad."
I hugged him, awkwardly.
"Thanks, Jacob," I said, reaching my hand out.
He took it; I remembered him being at least two years younger than me, but his hand was bigger than mine; he was taller than me too.
"It's was fun," he laughed.
I nodded again. "Well, I should probably go unpack. Thanks, Jacob."
"No problem. We should hang out soon," he said.
"Uh, yeah. Maybe after I get settled with school and work," I said.
"Sounds good," he smiled. "I'll give you a call."
"I don't have a cell phone," I said.
"That's okay."
"I'll give you a ride back to the reservation, Jacob," Charlie said.
"Thanks, Charlie," he said.
And then they were gone. I walked around the Beetle a couple of times, examining it. It was in pretty good condition, a little dented, and the interior was tan and a little ripped. But I liked it.
I folded my clothes slowly that night, after dinner. And then when I went to bed, I cried myself to sleep.
The morning was gray and wet, but that wasn't a surprise. My eyes were still puffy from crying.
Looking out the window, the green world was sprawled out in front of me. It was endless, and the trees turned into a swirling mirage and I suddenly felt sick.
After getting ready, a thick gray jacket and a dark pair of jeans, I joined Charlie in the kitchen. He was wearing his uniform – I forgot to mention that Charlie of the Chief of Police is in little old Forks.
"Morning, sport," he smiled.
"Morning," I said, serving myself cereal.
"Ready for school?" he asked.
"As ready as I'll ever be," I sighed.
He smiled awkwardly. "Renee tells me that you're good in school."
"I guess," I shrugged.
"You guess?" he laughed.
"I do okay," I said. "I like school."
He nodded, laughing. "So I here."
"Can I give you a lift to school?" he asked.
I looked at him with horrified eyes. "No. I have the car. I think I know where it is."
He looked uneasy.
"Dad, I'm seventeen," I reaffirmed. "I have my license. And I would rather die than have you take me to school in the cruiser."
"Okay, okay," he said.
"Thank you," I said, finishing my cereal.
For a minute, the kitchen was silent.
"I'm going to get a head start," I said.
Dad stood, "Okay. Be safe."
"Dad, I'm the son of the police chief, no one is going to do anything. Besides, it's Forks, not Los Angeles."
He smiled, but wasn't convinced. "I don't want to mess this up."
"Mess what up?"
"This thing they call "parenting". I haven't done it for more than a few months, so you're still that little baby to me, Wendell. I don't want Renee to not trust me."
I couldn't help but smile. "Dad, it's fine. I'm not a baby and Renee trusts you. You're not going to screw this up. I'm in the safest little town in the world, and nothing is going to happen."
When I pulled into the parking lot, my stomach flipped. It was the first day of school all over again, but this time, I didn't know anybody and it was February.
I was early, so there were hardly any cars.
I sat in the Beetle, clenching the steering wheel until my knuckles were white. All I could do was breathe and tell myself that everything was okay.
I got out of the car as students began arriving. I hugged my messenger bag to my hip and made my way to the admittance office.
The woman behind the desk looked up at me with kind green eyes when I walked in.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"Um, yes. My name is Wendell Swan," I said. "It's my first day."
"Oh, yes, of course! Chief Swan's son," she smiled. "I've got your schedule right here."
She handed me the piece of paper and wished me a good day before asking me to come back after school.
My first period was physics, and that passed by quickly. I was grateful that Mr. Baker didn't make me introduce myself to the class.
I wasn't so lucky in calculus, when my evil instructor had me tell the class where I was from and my name.
P.E. was the worst; I did not fair well in athletics in Arizona either.
By the end of the day, I was glad when art came rolling by.
When I stepped into the classroom, I saw him. He was sitting in the farthest corner, the pale, gray light from the windows casting him into view. His eyes were golden and his hair was cropped, a vivid shade of copper. He was uncommonly pale, his skin like a stone.
He was staring at me, too. But his eyes weren't quizzical or searching, instead they were narrowed and angry.
"You must be Wendell Swan." It was my teacher, Mr. Lane. He was smiling broadly and he accepted my schedule. "Yes, just take a seat at the last table, near Mr. Cullen."
Cullen? The doctor's son?
I nodded and walked down the aisle, towards my seat. My face was hot and I was sure that I was red.
I sat down. By this time, I recognized most of the faces from earlier. A few of my new classmates even smiled at me and said "hi".
But not this boy.
I let myself look at him, and I regretted it. His piercing stare was chilling; he made no attempt to hide his disdain.
Kill me now, I thought.
He was the most beautiful boy I'd even seen; everything about him was immaculate. But even in his perfection, he frightened me. I couldn't stay here, not for an hour every single day.
"I can ask for a new seat," I said, under my breath, only so that he could hear me.
He seemed confused. "No. That will not be necessary." His voice was cold and unwavering.
I tried to stand, but felt a hand grip my leg. I was rooted to my seat.
"I said, no," he repeated.
He was strong. Even after he pinned me to my seat, he didn't let go. His grasp was like iron.
"You're hurting me," I said, trying to not let my voice break.
His eyes widened, and he released me. "I'm sorry."
My leg was throbbing.
"Wendell, was it?" he asked.
I looked up at him, nodding.
"I'm Edward... Edward Cullen."
