There were few things I enjoyed in this world and none of them were in Forks. I'd been here all weekend and so far, my heart had found nothing to attach itself to besides my new/old room. My dad Charlie was making a real effort, always asking if I needed anything or wanted to do anything. I didn't think saying "I want to go home" would go down too well though.
I wished I'd never told my mom I'd move here. I should have asked Charlie to move to Arizona instead in the interest of his health: vitamin D was a town deficiency here.
It was just so miserable and cold and wet and slushy and muddy and green. The palette here in Forks was so earthy, fresh and grey. In a way, it was quite picturesque. There was a forest out back I only had to take a few steps into, but getting muddied up would not help me like this place. It was somewhere I'd rather look at from a picture- 10,000 miles away.
I needed to stop whining. Forks was my home now. I just had to get over it. Just one year here and then I could leave for the sunniest university and never get a cold again.
I tried to keep positive for the rest of the evening. I cooked Charlie and I dinner: lasagne with a small chocolate fudge cake for dessert.
"What's the occasion?" Charlie asked, eyeing the cake suspiciously. "Your birthday is in two weeks right? It's not September seventeenth already is it?" he sounded worried.
"Nothing." I laughed. I had been so bored I'd baked. And I had to start school tomorrow so I deserved misery food. "Just wanted to test out a recipe."
"You've been here two days and I've already gained weight." Charlie smiled, his brown eyes crinkling up around the edges.
My heart warmed a little. Charlie was so lovely. I felt bad for feeling like a moody brat. "I don't know how you're not malnourished." I said, shuddering.
"Bread and beans are good for you!" Charlie protested. "And I have the diner in town."
"You know fried food isn't exactly nutritious, dad," I teased.
Charlie smiled sheepishly.
We passed the rest of the meal in comfortable silence. Living with Charlie was proving to be a lot calmer than I imagined. He wasn't in my face all the time or constantly trying to make conversation. It was one of the better things about being here: I had a lot more space. Mom and my stepdad Phil had always been so much livelier. It was like being around two kids all the time.
"Have a good sleep, Bells," Charlie yawned when we'd finished washing the dishes.
"You too."
I left the kitchen while Charlie cracked open a beer.
A nauseous sense of trepidation filled me as I stepped up to my room. School. Teenagers. Small town.
I was walking into a snake pit.
I had never been the popular type in Arizona. I was those in-between kids, not cool enough to be revered but not so down the social ladder that I got my face kicked in every day. But starting somewhere new in a small town like Forks where everybody knew your mother had left the town sheriff two years into their marriage…
I slept terribly and woke feeling venomous. The wind and rain had been hammering away all night like wild animals.
I got dressed in black jeans and a long black jumper. I should have painted my nails black last night too.
"Bells, do you want a lift?" Charlie asked as I traipsed into the kitchen.
"No, thanks." Getting a ride in the sheriff's cruiser probably wouldn't make anybody any more amiable.
"You sure?" he asked. Charlie's face kept twitching into a grin he failed to straighten out. Repeatedly.
"Why are you smiling like that?" I asked suspiciously.
"I got you an early birthday present." His face cracked into a wide grin.
"Dad, I told you I didn't want anything." Turning eighteen in a few days was hardly anything to be excited over. I was getting old. I'd have to pay my own bills soon. I'd have to get a life.
"I know but this is our first birthday together since… well, anyway." He got up quickly, still grinning and steered me out of the kitchen.
"Dad, where are we going?" I asked, feeling more and more worried. I hoped he hadn't thrown some kind of surprise birthday breakfast with the town. Public attention made me nauseous. People made me nauseous.
Charlie led us towards the front door. Fear had tightened in the pit of my stomach.
"Surprise!" He threw open the front door and revealed A FREAKING TRUCK.
"OH MY GOSH!" I screamed. "Dad? What the hell? Oh my gosh!"
"Do you like it?" Charlie asked nervously as I rushed to check out my new red Chevy.
"Like it? Dad, this is perfect, I freaking love it!" I squealed. I never squealed. But getting my first car was squeal-worthy.
"Well, I'm glad." He smiled awkwardly. "I got it off of Billy down at La Push. It's not the best car but it runs smooth and it'll be good for your first car."
"Thank you so much!" I said earnestly. If he were mom, I would've hugged him. But Charlie and I were mutually too awkward for such affection.
Charlie smiled. "Well, I best be off to work. See you later, Bells."
"Bye, dad!" I jumped into my truck.
I felt ten times better sitting in my own car. I didn't have to walk around this stupid wet place anymore or take the bus with a bunch of strangers. My heart swelled.
I drove around the block a few times to get a feel for the car before I set off for Forks High School. It had a really loud engine but I liked it: I felt so strong behind the wheel. The truck was such a heavy piece of metal; it would do well in a crash- which I hoped I never had, of course.
I drove in to the high school, following the signs around the roads. Forks was so small I would've gotten lost and found it by accident anyway. There were loads of other cars in the parking lot; all mediocre small vehicles parents gave their kids. The only car worth gawking at was a sleek silver Volvo that looked too good to be a student's car.
I had fifteen minutes to go until time for homeroom but I needed to go to reception and sort out a few things. The euphoria of having a car seeped away as I walked up the path. I could feel the happiness being sucked out of me already.
People were definitely looking at me as I walked around school, trying to find my way. It was like they could smell the new girl. I supposed in a town as small as this, my arrival had reached every ear from the looks I was getting.
"Hey, are you new?" A bright face took over my vision.
I stepped back hastily from the lanky boy before me. He was blond and baby-faced, complete with blue eyes. It wasn't the kind of face you could comfortably be mean to. "Yeah." I replied hesitantly.
"Isabella right? Chief Swan's daughter?" The guy asked eagerly. "I'm Mike Newton."
Word had indeed gotten round. "Yeah, it's Bella." Please stop talking to me.
He smiled wider. "Do you know where you're going?"
"Yeah, I do. Thanks!" I ran away.
"See you around!" he called after me.
"I hope not," I mumbled.
I eventually found my way to my homeroom; just as everybody was packing up to leave.
"Ah, Miss Swan," Mrs Julian, my homeroom teacher—I assumed— said. "Are you all right?" she asked kindly.
"Sorry, I got lost." I said feebly.
"Hey, Bella!"
I turned dreadfully to the sound of my name and saw Mike Newton. I groaned inwardly.
Mrs Julian gave me the run down on a few things after she shooed everybody off to their next class. My first class was English with a Mr Cullen, then trig with a Miss Vance. She mercifully took me to my next class, asking me how I'd found the town so far. I lied and said it was really great here. I didn't want to lose the only friend I'd just made.
When I walked into English, everybody else was just filing in. I hurried in but wasn't quick enough to get a seat at the back. I ended up at the end of the middle row. Heads turned in my direction as I made my way, and even after I'd sat down. Whispers of "that's the new girl, Chief Swan's daughter" flew around the room. I wanted to die inside of my shirt; I hated feeling watched.
"All right vagabonds, settle down!"
Everybody fell silent at the voice. I looked up and saw the back of the teacher's bronze head. He wore a sleek navy shirt and black suit trousers as he wrote his name on the chalkboard. Even from the back he seemed too fashionable to be in Forks. This was the town of plaid shirts and dirty jeans.
The girls around me were whispering and giggling. I wondered if Mr Cullen was actually good looking or if the stock of guys here was so bad girls had nothing else to look at. Mr Cullen did have a nice deep, velvety voice. I'd wait till he turned around to make the final judgement.
"I'm Mr Cullen and I'm very glad you've all made it to your first class on time." He said, turning around.
My heart dropped.
Mr Cullen was young. I mean like really young, way too young to be teaching. His face was sharp and square, the kind of chiselled look only models had. He was tall too with a leanness to him that hinted at a stronger body beneath the ordinary clothes. He smiled crookedly. Even from the middle here, I could tell his eyes were beautiful. The whole freaking rest of him was breathtaking.
His eyes fell on me for a moment with curiosity. I thought I saw him freeze but he moved off so quickly I was sure I was daydreaming wishfully.
I pinched myself. Well, he was real at least.
"So, we'll be studying Wuthering Heights this week," Mr Cullen announced, turning back to the board. He began writing the title down. The chalk screeched so hard against the board from the force of his writing and broke.
"Damn it," he muttered quietly. "Right, everybody get your books out while I find more chalk." Mr Cullen didn't even look at us but he spoke with such authority everybody did as they were told. He hesitated by the board for a moment, seeming not to find any chalk and walked so swiftly out of the room I thought he was a dream.
That was really fast.
A slow chatter creeped into the room as Mr Cullen didn't return for a minute and another minute and another. I kept my head down and focussed on my cover of Wuthering Heights, not wanting to make eye contact or conversation with anybody.
"Hey, are you Isabella Swan?"
I looked up to see a girl near the front with dirty blonde hair and a thin face with too much attitude looking at me. All she needed was a bubble gum blowing out of her mouth to complete the jerky cheerleader look.
"It's Bella." I said and looked back down. Everybody knew me by my stupid full name here. Who even called their kid Isabella? It was like my parents had wanted me to reach middle-age before I hit puberty.
"How come you moved here?" the girl asked loudly.
I gripped my pencil hard. I hated speaking to people who just wanted gossip.
Mercifully, Mr Cullen strode back in just then. "Sorry about that guys," he smiled, looking around.
My breath caught as his eyes fell on me for a second with that smile. Our eyes locked and in that moment I could've fooled myself into thinking he was interested in me. He was so beautiful.
Mr Cullen's eyes left mine and he turned to the rest of the class. He began talking about the book and Emily Brontë. Hot guys talking about books were my kryptonite. I could feel all the other girls in the class trying not to melt too.
But a lot of the stuff he talked about were things I'd already learned in Arizona. We'd covered this book last semester. It was one of my favourite novels too so I didn't need to take extensive notes. I could quote almost every line from memory.
Still, at least the teacher was nice to look at and listen to. I could tell from the way he talked that Mr Cullen knew more than he could say; probably keeping in mind his audience's age. He should have been a college professor in English instead.
When class ended, Mr Cullen called my name. "Bella, could I have a word please?"
I froze and looked up at him, my hands hovering over my bag.
He was sat at his desk, peering over the tops of his hand calmly. "You're not in trouble," he smiled lightly. I felt my heart stutter.
Everybody filed out of the class as I shoved the rest of my stuff into my bag and went up to the desk.
"You're new here, right?" Mr Cullen asked, surveying me.
A few feet away from him, I saw his eyes were a bright golden-honey colour. Contacts. He had to be wearing contacts. No human deserved such beautiful eyes.
"Um, yeah." I said, not trusting myself with more words. My heart was thundering against my chest.
He nodded. "Great. Have you studied Wuthering Heights before?"
I nodded.
"I thought so from the little notes I saw you take." he smiled, his pale face brightening.
I felt myself go red. "Sorry. We spent a whole semester on it last year."
"Not at all, it's good you know your stuff. Which school was this?" he asked. He hadn't moved in position since he'd called me; he seemed locked in his seat, gazing at me over the tops of his hands.
"It was in Arizona, Medley High." You are so beautiful it's not fair.
He smiled, making my heart splutter even more. He looked like an angel. "Nice. I'll try and throw in some new things so it's not completely the same for you. Have a good day."
"Thanks, Sir. Goodbye" I hurried away.
"Goodbye, Bella," he said quietly.
It was only after two minutes of wandering around looking for my Trig class did I realise he'd called me Bella. Everybody here knew me as Isabella. Where the hell had he gotten Bella from?