Author's Note: This is a short chapter, but I promise the rest of the chapters will be a lot longer. Hope you enjoy the story! And after you're finished reading, a review will greatly be appreciated! Thanks!
Chapter 1
Edward's POV
I come home with the groceries, Mom told me to get at the farthest grocery since they are the only one who sells star fruit. Since my Dad introduced it to our household, Mom has been pretty adamant about trying every recipe with star fruit in it. Today, she wants to master a star fruit upside down cake. Maybe my Mom should just quit being a lawyer and become a chef. It would make her happier. Mom and Dad never seem to be engrossed in their actual duties in their careers. Dad is his happiest when he's playing with his local band, Sweatdrops when he's not lecturing college students. He's an English professor at Brown University; the school I attend.
Brown wasn't my initial choice. In fact, I wanted to take a break from school and find myself going on exotic trips to Taiwan or Madagascar. But Dad convinced me I should get my education out the way. I study English. It was always my best subject so I figured why not major in it? Plus, my Dad works in that department.
My Mom is giddy when I call her down. She runs down the steps like an excited teenage girl who just scored some date with a jock. She asks me to help her with the recipe. I'm a klutz in the kitchen. Mom knows that and yet she stills wants me to give assistance!
I run through the recipe for her and she pulls out every ingredient for the cake. I offer to cut the star fruit. It's the only thing I can do without messing up. I'm a fair cutter.
"I went to the movies," Mom sparks a conversation as she mixes the dry ingredients together.
"What movie?"
"Skyline," she answers. She finishes the dry mix and starts the wet mix.
"Any good?"
"It was awesome!"
She's a lover for sci-fi disaster flicks; not my kind of film. Thanks to her I have seen just about every one there is.
I let Mom take over and finish. My eyes droop and I yawn. She takes note of my sleepiness. "Tired?"
I nod and sit on the stool behind the counter. "Finals have been stressing me."
She walks over and gives me a hug. "Ohh sweetie, don't sweat about it. You're a bright student," she encourages.
I'm just getting by. I excuse myself and head upstairs in my bedroom. I'm sick of school. Every week I have to turn in a paper. Either it's research, a debate, or creative writing. My job is boring. I work retail at Best Buy.
I plop on my bed and stare at the ceiling and think about my life. Why can't I just ditch everything and do something crazy, like skydiving or go on a road trip of some sort. I need adventure. I need an escape. I need thrills!
I touch my heart scar under my shirt. It's been three years since I had a heart transplant that saved my life. I was given a second chance at life and I could do so much more with it than write papers and study for tests. I have a right to do whatever the hell I want, but I'm too chicken to take that actual leap and do it. If I was really brave I would not have went to Brown wasting a good chunk of my 4 years to get some degree.
Bella's POV
I walk down the sidewalks of my neighborhood. It's a cool Spring. The wind blows through my now long hair. I never had hair this long before. For years I always wore boy cuts, but I convinced myself I could be the girly girl. I started wearing makeup, heels, and skirts. I'm a knockout to the boys at my school.
I think I could have just about any boy, but I'm not some whore who spreads her legs wide for every boy there is. I just like teasing, but they can never touch me. Boys don't interest me. And no I'm not some now turned lesbian. I don't do girls either.
I have declared myself asexual. I have no sexual attraction to any human being. I want no one. It's hard for me to trust again in a relationship. I barely do friends. In fact, I have had no real close friend since 2 years ago. Her name was Anne. We were inseparable…
I stop by the Weaver household. My grandmother made an army of home crafted strawberry jam for the neighborhood. It's a traditional family recipe. I ring the doorbell to their house. The youngest daughter, Lily answers it. She's shorter than the doorknob. While it's cute at the door, I would never allow my 5 year old daughter to answer alone. I feel relieved when her mother, Gemma comes up. She smiles and greet.
"Hi, my grandmother made jam," I say sort of lamely. I would make a horrible door to door sales woman.
I hand the elaborated decorated container. Gemma looks half-interested. I wonder if she'll throw it away after she closes the door in my face. We chit chat for a bit. She asks me about school. She always does. She's impressed I go to Brown University. I did work my ass off to get accepted there. I just wanted out of Forks.
I leave their house and distribute the rest of the strawberry jams.
