It was a cold, rainy Sunday afternoon

It was a cold, rainy Sunday afternoon. The only aspect of Forks, Washington that was unchangeable was the weather, which was the only part I hated. Except for the occasional day when the sun peeks through the clouds and it's warmer than the average 60 degrees.

This wasn't any ordinary Sunday though. It was the Sunday experienced by millions of young Americans grades K-12. The Sunday before the first day of school. Anxiety and anticipation of the upcoming school year always drove me nuts, even though every school year wasn't as bad as all the summer meetings with the guidance counselor suggested. Why should this year be any different?

I was entering the 11th grade. Not the bottom of the food chain, and high enough for seniors to take interest in you. Nothing I was worried about though; I've never been interesting, since Day 1 of high school.

See, I'm not that pretty. Sure, I can pass off as tolerable, but that's what my parents tell me. Then again, that's their job and obligation; it's what their supposed to tell me. That I'm the "most beautiful thing alive" or "too precious for words". I wonder how many kids, other than me, face the knowledge that we know better than our parents, despite when they say that they know what we're going through.

I'd lived in California until I was twelve years old, so my skin was dirtied to a light tan. It wasn't exactly noticeable where I used to live, but it definitely stood out here. I didn't match the porcelain white skin of almost every person here. And, just because the sun never came out, doesn't mean that my tone faded away. Dirty blonde hair, weird blue eyes that everyone always commented on, in good ways and bad. Freckles that spotted across my upper cheeks and nose. A total beach bum is what I am.

The only thing I can do exceptionally well is boogie boarding, but I gave that up the minute I found that I was given either one of three excuses as to why I couldn't claim any dominance in the ocean. It's too cold, it's raining, or the current's too strong. A few weeks after the move-in was completed I dumped my board in the nearest Dumpster.

The rain kept pounding against the windows as I was casually flipping the channels on our family TV. Soon the pelting water became too loud to even hear my thoughts, and Full House couldn't hold my interest anymore. I turned it off and escaped to my room, the only space in the house that I was adamant of the rule of privacy.

My room is your ordinary room. I probably have more books than teenagers my age, but I was never one for the whole extra curricular activities. Books were tossed haphazardly across my floor and navy blue bedspread. I do this weird thing where I'll start on a novel, but forget the next day and start another one. And since my parents aren't allowed in my room, they don't know how messy it is, so they can't remind me to put my reading material back on the shelves.

I picked up the one closest to my foot. It was worn out from reading it so many times, and the bounding was almost coming off. I'm afraid that my copy of Pride and Prejudice has seen better days.

I took my time in flipping through its content. I'd done all my school shopping the week before, so that was finished. All I needed was a backpack, some notebooks, and pencils, so it wasn't too consuming. I analyzed the conversations between Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy, especially when she vehemently refuses to marry him when he proposes the first time. To be honest, I find Elizabeth a bit too headstrong and outspoken, and extremely prejudiced. Then again, I'm neither of those things; I'm shy, quiet, and reserved. I believe that only my close friends and my family even know what my voice sounds like.

The time slipped away, and I looked up a hundred pages later to find that it was almost time for dinner. I hadn't heard the garage open in the past two hours, so neither Mom nor Dad was home from work yet. I took this as a sign to make myself some dinner.

I'm no extravagant cook, so all I could come up with was tossing a cheese quesadilla in the microwave. It obviously wouldn't help my figure at all, but what do I care? People who live their life based on how much they weigh need to find a better hobby.

I wasn't slim, but I wasn't a whale either. I was short for my age, only five foot four, and weighed 135 pounds, I think. The last time I was weighed was a year ago at a routine checkup at the hospital. Oh well, if my fellow classmates couldn't like me because of how I looked, that was just tough for them.

About thirty seconds later, the timer beeped to signal that my culinary masterpiece was ready. I ate slowly in front of the TV since my parents weren't home to scold me for doing so. Normally my folks don't condone eating in front of the television, but tonight was a special occasion in my mind. Besides, if I didn't make a mess, where's the crime?

My parents didn't get home until I was done showering and getting ready for bed. Mom said she had to work late because of a client's being late to an appointment. She's a defense attorney and represents the lowly crime rate of Forks. Dad's excuse was that a wave of customers at the department store in Port Angeles stormed in minutes before closing time, and such a business opportunity couldn't be missed. He was manager and oversaw all sales, employees, and a bunch of other stuff.

I was suspicious; they'd been late everyday the past eight days and used different excuses for each. I was curious about what was going on in my parents' lives. It definitely didn't give me a good feeling, and the fact that they were acting distant towards each other and not hugging and kissing anymore made me paranoid.

Half an hour later, Dad stepped in to say good night. He cracked the door open and I couldn't see his face. I stopped him as he was about to close the door.

"Dad?"

He stepped in as I turned on my bedside lamp. His eyes were somber and nervous. "Yeah?"

I sat up and twirled the fringe on my blanket. The following conversation was not one I wanted to have with him, and he knew it was coming.

"Are you okay?" I looked up at him as his face fell.

He sighed and came to perch on the edge of my bed. I kept my gaze on him until he turned to me with a defeated expression.

"Listen Amy, I've been having some issues lately with your mom," he began. I stiffened and felt my expression of discomfort freeze on my face.

He gave me a little smile, but it didn't reach his lifeless brown eyes. "But you already knew that didn't you?" I hesitantly nodded.

He looked down at his hands as he folded them over again and again, clearly unhappy. That was it; I was going to settle this once and for all.

"Mom, can you come up here please?" I shouted. Dad stared at me and started shaking his head. Too late. There was no way he was getting out of this without an explanation.

She arrived promptly, but froze when she noticed Dad. I patted the space next to him, but she took stance by my desk. She looked wary, as if debating whether I knew her problems or this was another matter entirely.

I straightened up and squared myself to both of them, my eyes flickering back and forth between them. "Okay guys," I stated, "what's going on?" It sounded stronger than I felt. I thought I would throw up if this took the direction I feared it would.

"Well, tell her Carol." Dad obviously didn't want to be the one to explain. I turned to Mom, mentally trying to prepare myself for the oncoming blow.

She looked disgusted. "I'm not going to tell her! I don't want her to hate me the rest of her life because I was the one who told her about the decision we made together!"

So it was true then. My doubts were confirmed. They were too wrapped up in their argument, so I put on a confused face and piped up, "Hate you? Why would I hate you?"

Mom suddenly fell to her knees and started weeping. Sobbing, actually. Dad took my busy hands and held them in his own.

"Because, honey, we're getting a divorce."

A/N: Okay, so...what did you think? I've been itching to write a Twilight FF, but wasn't too sure about making it an OC romance or just stick to friendship and comfort. I think I've made the right choice since people haven't been screaming at me for changing the inpenatrable romance of Bella and Edward, and the other relationships of Twilight. Then again, they're not even in the story yet, so I guess I'll have to wait and hope that it doesn't happen! So, if you liked it, please review! I'm still not comfortable with flames and criticism, so none of that! Thanks again, and I'll update soon!