Title: Somewhere In Between
Author: Courtney
Email: courtneystovall@yahoo.com
Rating: R
Category: Bella POV; Alt-Universe
Summary: Bella wakes up one morning to find everything she knows in life has changed overnight. Now, caught in some sort of strange reality, can she ever find her way back to the way things used to be . . . and does she really want to go back?
Disclaimer: I own them all and they'll be appearing this fall on *my* network, ok?
Author's Notes: I wanted to write an alternate universe fic for Young Americans where everything was just a little different than it had been on the show and in trying to come up with something, I ended up with this. It's not exactly what I had in mind but we'll see how it turns out I guess.
This is over my head but underneath my feet
Cause by tomorrow morning I'll have this thing beat
And everything will be back to the way that it was
I wish that it was just that easy
Cause I'm waiting for tonight
Been waiting for tomorrow
And I'm somewhere in between
What is real . . . and just a dream?
--Somewhere In Between, Lifehouse
* * * * *
Prologue
Bella opened her eyes slowly, not wanting to give in to the morning just yet. She'd been having a wonderful dream, though as quickly as she could think of returning to her dream, she had already forgotten entirely what it had been about. It didn't matter, really. She'd still be happy to go back to sleep. But it would probably be no use anyway. It was Wednesday and she and Grace were supposed to take turns watching the station on Wednesday mornings while their dad ran his weekly errands. This was actually Grace's week, but that really didn't mean much. Nine times out of ten Bella ended up covering for her little sister. Covering for Grace should have been considered a part time job unto itself, she thought.
With a sigh, Bella finally let go of any last thoughts of returning to her dreams and pushed back the covers to get out of bed. When her feet hit the floor, however, her eyes snapped open. Where was the carpet? She looked down and, sure enough, her feet were on a polished hardwood floor instead of the thin, beige carpet that had been in her bedroom forever. She blinked rapidly, wondering fleetingly if maybe she were still sleeping. If she had been, though, her glance around the room would have surely woken her up.
"What the hell?" Bella muttered as she surveyed her surroundings. This wasn't her room. For that matter, this wasn't even her bed. Or her pajamas, she realized. What was going on?
The room she had fallen asleep in had been the room she'd occupied for her entire life. The room above the garage, right next to Grace's room and right down the hall from her dad's. The room with its worn, beige carpet and pale pink walls and beat up old dresser and familiar four-poster bed. Looking around, she could see that this . . . this *place* was anything but that room.
There were two beds here instead of one. They both had navy blue bedspreads and white sheets. Or, at least she assumed the sheets on the other bed were white since it was already made up. Two small, wooden dressers occupied one wall and two matching desks sat across from them. Each bed had a nightstand next to it and an oval shaped navy blue rug covered the floor between them. Bella got up out of the bed and began moving around the room to do a further inspection of her strange surroundings.
The room seemed to be divided in half with one bed, one dresser, one nightstand, and one desk all on one side of the room and the identical counterparts in the same spots on the opposite side. Her first thought was that it reminded her of Scout and Will's room at Rawley.
The desk on the same side of the room as the bed she had woken up in was covered in stuff. There was a computer and stacks of textbooks and various school supplies; the sorts of things you'd expect to find on a desk. She didn't recognize any of the items. She didn't own a computer; none of those books were from any class she had ever taken and nothing else on the desk seemed remotely familiar to her. So, just where was she . . . and whose stuff was she looking through?
Seeing some pictures atop the dresser, she turned to examine them to see if anyone in the pictures might look familiar and give her some idea of what was going on. All the faces in the pictures did, though, was shock her. There, in dozens of photos both framed and stuck into the mirror, was her own face. But she had never seen half the people that she was posing with. And even the pictures where she did recognize all the faces . . . those pictures had never been taken. There was just no way.
Picking up a framed photo of herself, Grace, Charlie, and Donna, Bella was astonished. Judging by the approximate ages of herself and her sister in the picture, it couldn't have been more than a year or two old. But, it had been ten years since Charlie and Donna had lived together; it had probably been nearly as long since they had spoken to one another. Why on earth, then, would they be in a picture together with their arms around one another?
"This isn't happening," Bella said softly to herself. "Just close your eyes and count to ten and you'll wake up and this will have all been some bizarre dream and Grace will be grumbling about you covering for her for the millionth time and--"
"Uh, who are you talking to?" A voice asked from behind her.
"Huh?" Bella spun around to face the intruder . . . and came face to face with the first familiar sight she'd seen in this place. Well, vaguely familiar, anyway. It was Jake . . . but it wasn't. Not the Jake she was used to seeing, anyway. Her friend wasn't dressed in her boy clothes today. Instead, she worn a short, peach sundress and a pair of strappy brown sandals.
Jake seemed more than a little disconcerted by Bella's stares and finally said, "What's up with you today?"
"Um . . . uh . . . nothing," Bella stammered. "I just . . . uh, I just woke up," she said quickly.
"Hmm. Well, I guess that means that you aren't a morning person, then," she quipped. Jake rummaged through the dresser on the opposite side of the room, pulling out a shawl, then grabbed a crocheted handbag off the back of the desk chair and started back towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Bella asked anxiously. She'd finally found something she recognized here; she couldn't let that slip away.
"To brunch with Tom Cruise," she said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. Then: "I'm going to the lake with Matthew, what's it to you?"
Bella was a bit surprised by Jake's harsh tone and wondered if this "friend" was so familiar to her after all.
"You're so freaking *weird*," Jake said. "I mean, I thought you were normal when we met the other day but this . . . Jeez, I always get the freaky roommates," she muttered.
Wait, the other day? Roommates? What was going on?
Jake started back towards the door and Bella knew she had to ask before she got away. "Jake, wait," she called.
The other girl stopped and turned around. "Now you can't even remember my name?" she said. "It's Jackie. J-a-c-k-i-e. Not really too difficult. I'm out of here," she said with a sneer and then she turned again and finally left. Bella was left behind, wondering yet again what was going on.
Walking back to the desk, Bella began opening drawers, hoping there would be something in the room to explain things a little better. She came across some stationary that read 'Rawley Academy For Girls' in light blue letters across the top. "Rawley . . ." she repeated aloud in confusion. That couldn't be. She couldn't be at *Rawley*.
She continued to sort through the notepads and pens and pencils until she found a leather bound book; an address book. She pulled it out of the drawer and started leafing through the pages. Some of the names she knew; her relatives were listed, but most at addresses and phone numbers that she had never seen. Then there were lots of people she had no clue about. But the words were in her handwriting and the inside cover had her name as the owner of the book. It didn't make sense, though. This couldn't belong to her.
A phone number was listed under her name in the front of the book so she decided to call it to see if she could get in touch with her dad or with Grace. Anyone who could explain this increasingly weird situation.
The phone rang several times before a voice she didn't know answered. "Banks residence."
"Um, yes . . . is my da-- I mean, is Charlie there?" she asked.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Banks is in Washington at the moment," the woman said. Washington? Why was her father in Washington?
"And Mrs. Banks?" Bella asked.
"She's with him this week," the woman replied. She paused, then said, "Bella, is that you?"
"I . . . uh . . . um . . ."
"Bella, is everything alright?" she asked.
"It's . . . yes, it's fine," Bella replied. "Who is this?"
"Bella dear . . . it's Margaret, of course. Who else would it be? Are you feeling okay dear?"
"Um . . . actually I'm feeling a little . . . strange. Everything is a little strange today," she admitted.
"So it seems," Margaret agreed. "Bella, if you need to reach your parents I'm sure that you could get them in Washington. Your mother will be there until the end of the week."
"Why are they in Washington?" Bella asked.
"Well, Congress is in session, dear," she replied. Her tone was kind, but Bella could tell that the woman on the other end of the phone thought that she was crazy.
"Okay," she said, not really knowing how else to reply. "Um, is Grace home by any chance?"
"Grace?" the woman questioned.
"My sister," Bella clarified.
"Bella, I know who Grace is. I've only been your parents housekeeper for the past fifteen years," Margaret answered. "But you know that your sister is away at school, just like you. The two of you left here last week on the same day. Are you absolutely *sure* that you're feeling okay? I could call your mother, have her to fly back in if you need--"
"No," Bella cut her off. "No, I'm fine. I'm just . . . tired. I had a weird dream last night and . . . well, I think I got a little confused. But I'll be fine; don't worry. Well, I better get going. Goodbye Margaret," she said and, without waiting for a response, she hung up. This situation was confusing enough. The last thing she needed was to bring her mother into it and make things that much worse.
Being in this room didn't seem to be getting her much of anywhere so she decided to get dressed and try to find someone to help her find out what was going on. Hopefully there was at least one other people here who hadn't lost their mind overnight . . . and they could help her find her way out of this nightmare.
* * * * *
Part One
After getting dressed and venturing outside, Bella found that she was indeed on the Rawley Girls campus. That didn't really make much sense, but then again neither had anything else since she'd woken up that morning so why should logic enter into things now?
She had been wandering around outside for about twenty minutes before she finally found a familiar face. As she entered the quad shared by the girls and boys schools, there sat Will Krudski, book in hand and thankfully alone.
"Will!" she called as she rushed over to her old friend.
"Yes?" he said as he looked up to see her approach. "Um, do I know you?" he asked. Oh no, not Will, too.
"It's me, Bella," she tried. "Bella Banks? Remember?"
"I'm sorry, I just got here a few days ago, I don't know many people so . . ." Her heart fell as she saw that even Will was different. Everything was different. He saw her disappointment and offered, "I'm sure you must just have me confused with someone else. All of us rich boys look alike, right?" he grinned. "Or maybe we've met somewhere else and I just don't remember. Do you ever summer in St. Croix?"
Rich boys? 'Summer'? This was *not* the Will Krudski that she knew. As much as she knew that it was probably a mistake, she felt the need to tell him exactly who she was, who *he* was, and what was going on. And before she could stop herself, she did just that.
"Your name is William Joseph Krudski. Your mother is Susan; your father is Brian. You're an only child; you're from New Rawley, Massachusetts and we've known each other since as long as I can remember. You used to pull my hair in kindergarten. Don't you remember? And I taught you to ride a bike and to drive a car and you taught me multiplication tables and geometry and . . . doesn't any of this sound familiar at all?"
Will looked blankly at this girl who he didn't recognize but who seemed to know enough about him to know the names of his parents. "Who are you?" he asked with a confused shake of his head. "Because my parent's names are Brian and Susan and my middle name is Joseph but . . . the rest of it . . . I mean, I'm sorry, I just . . . I have no idea what you're talking about, Becca."
"Bella!" she yelled back. "It's Bella and you know that, dammit! Ugh!" And, with that, she got up and marched off, leaving Will as confused as she was.
* * * * *
At least the town hadn't changed, she thought as she made her way from the campus of Rawley Academy into the small town she'd called home for her entire life. This path, at least, was familiar. And after her conversation with Will, she was badly in need of something familiar to comfort her.
When her father's gas station came into view, Bella nearly sighed with relief. It was still there and it still looked just as it always had. She crossed the street and approached the station, hoping that her father or even Grace would be there. Anyone that she knew . . .
She opened the door and heard the bell that she had heard a million times ring in her ears. She smiled faintly at the sound. Not everything in the world had changed, it seemed.
"Be right there," she heard someone call from the back. She'd heard the voice before, though she knew it wasn't Grace or her father. It was a guy, but a young guy from the sound of his voice. In fact, it almost sounded like . . .
"Hamilton," Bella said softly as the young man emerged from the back room to stand at the counter in front of her.
"Um . . . yeah," he said, sounding a little surprised that she knew his name. "Have we met?" he asked. He was wearing a grease-smudged jumpsuit and looked like he had just crawled out from under a car after changing the oil. 'Like I always look after working at the station all day,' Bella thought to herself.
"Um, no, we haven't," she said. She quickly decided that, after the incidents with both Jake and Will that it might be a better idea to play along with this fantasy instead of trying to convince everyone else that they weren't who they thought they were. Maybe then she'd actually be able to figure out what was going on. "I just . . . someone told me that you, uh, worked here?" she said uncertainly.
"Well, yeah, my dad owns the place," he verified.
"Your dad does?"
"Yep. Rick Fleming. Rick's Gas and Garage, like the sign says," he told her with a smile. "So, what brings you here, miss . . .?"
"Banks, Bella Banks," she filled in as she stuck out her hand to him.
"Nice to meet you, Bella Banks. I'm Hamilton Fleming . . . but I guess you already knew that, huh?" he grinned.
"It's nice to meet you, Hamilton," she smiled back.
"You must be a Rawley girl," he said.
"Why? Do I look rich and useless?" she asked with a smirk.
He grinned at that and chuckled. "Nah, not useless, but rich seems right enough."
"Well, apparently I am a Rawley girl. At least for now," she told him.
"Not too enchanted with our little town?" he asked.
"Oh, on the contrary. It feels . . . well, just like home. I'm just not sure that I belong at Rawley Academy is all," she told him.
"Another rich kid trying to bunk the rich kid life? Well, I'd like to say that was original, but I've lived here too long not to have met a few other Rawley kids who felt the same way," Hamilton said.
"How long have you lived in New Rawley?" Bella asked.
"All my life. My parents grew up here. They were high school sweethearts; got married when they were eighteen. I came along a few months after that," he smirked. "This station belonged to my grandfather and when he passed away it went to my dad. I guess someday it'll be mine. I'll probably live in New Rawley forever."
"And you want to? Live here forever, I mean," she asked.
Hamilton shrugged. "It's not so bad. It's home, ya know?" She nodded. She did know.
"So, you don't go to Rawley?" she asked him.
He laughed. "Hardly. Public school all the way for me," he told her.
"Um, this may sound a little strange but . . . do you like to take pictures?" Hamilton gave her a peculiar look and she continued to explain. "Like photography . . . has that ever been your hobby?"
"It's funny you should ask that," he said. "My mom, she lives in Chicago. Photography has always been her passion. I've always thought it was really interesting but . . . well, I just don't have the time or the money to be taking up hobbies."
Bella smiled slightly. At least some things were still the same. "I just asked because . . . well, I'm not sure why I asked, really. Just a hunch I guess."
"So, Bella, what exactly brings you here? Do you have a car you need me to look at or . . .?"
"Who me? Oh, no, I don't have a car. I just, uh . . . I . . ." she was still searching for something to say in the way of an explanation when the door chimed again and she was saved by the arrival of another customer.
"Hey Ham, what's up?" said a male voice that she instantly recognized. She turned around and, sure enough, there was Scout Calhoun. His eyes met hers and he smiled. "Hello there."
"Uh, Scout Calhoun, meet Bella Banks," Hamilton said. "Bella here goes to Rawley Girls," he told his friend.
"No kidding," Scout replied with a wide smile. His smile was still the same, Bella noted, but that was about the only thing about this Scout that seemed familiar. As much as Scout had always tried to pretend that they were on the same level, Bella had always known that that wasn't the case. It was in the way he dressed, the way he walked, even the way he spoke. Scout Calhoun was a rich kid. He was a nice rich kid, but that didn't change who he was. But this Scout . . . he didn't have that air about him. His hair was a little more ruffled, his clothes a bit more worn. He was just . . . different.
"Scout is going to Rawley this year, too," Hamilton spoke again.
"On scholarship," Scout told her.
"That's great, maybe I'll see you around campus," she smiled.
"Yeah, maybe so," he replied.
"Well, it was great meeting you guys," Bella said, "But I better get going. I need to get a few things in town and then head back to campus."
"Okay. Uh, there's a grocery store over on--" Hamilton started, but Bella finished his sentence for him.
"Seventh, yeah, I know," she said. "Thanks."
"Sure, see you around."
"Yeah, see ya," she said with a wave, then turned to go. When she was outside and had turned the corner to be out of sight, she could hear them talking about her.
"What was she doing in here?" Scout asked.
"Not sure, really. She was asking a bunch of weird questions. And she knew my name, which I thought was odd. But hey, maybe someone else told her. No big deal. She seemed nice," Hamilton said.
"Maybe she saw you around here and asked about you," Scout said and Bella could hear the teasing in his voice. "She liiikes you, Hammie," she drawled. "Hammie has a rich, Rawley girlfriend," he chided.
She heard Hamilton laugh and say, "Shut up, will ya? She was just passing by and stopped to talk. She's not interested in me. Besides, you're the 'big man on campus' now, right? I should be the one teasing you about rich Rawley girls."
"Eh, I'm not interested in any of that," Scout assured him. "I'm just interested in going to class, getting the grades I need and finally getting a way out of this town. We can't all be like you and love New Rawley, Ham."
"You'll get out, Scout. If anyone will it'll be you," Hamilton assured his friend.
With that, the conversation turned to various people they knew from town and what everyone was doing with the last week of summer so Bella lost interest and finally started back down the street. She still couldn't get over all of this. Hamilton Fleming was a townie whose dad owned the local service station? And Scout Calhoun was a poor kid attending Rawley on scholarship? Not to mention that Jake was now "Jackie" and seemed to be a total snob. Or that Will Krudski seemed to be one of the well-to-do better-than-you Rawley rich kids . . . and everyone seemed to think the same thing of her. Since when did her parents have a housekeeper, or send she and Grace away to private school, or spend endless amounts of time in Washington? Since when did her parents even *speak* to one another? This was all very, very bizarre . . . and it just kept getting weirder.
Her head was still swimming with all of the days events when she turned the corner onto Seventh Street and headed into the local grocery. She didn't pay attention to the sign out front because she'd come here a million times. She knew exactly where this place was.
"Hey there, can I help you?" a man with a strong British accent called out.
She turned towards the counter but a stack of boxes blocked her from seeing that face that belonged to the voice. "Um, I'm just picking up a few things," she called back. She'd found some money in the desk drawer that morning and decided to pick up a few items that seemed to be lacking in her dorm room. Well, in whoever's dorm room she was in, that is. After all, she figured there was no way to know how long this charade would last so she might as well resign herself to the fact that she could be stuck here for a while.
"Sorry, I just got an order in," the man explained. "Let me move some of this stuff and I'll come help you find what you need," he called back.
"No, that's okay," Bella said. "I'm sure I can find everything. Just finish what you're doing, it's fine, really."
"Um . . . alright," he replied. "Well, if you need something just give a shout."
"Thanks," she replied and picked up a plastic basket and made her way down the first aisle to start collecting the things she had come in for. By the time she had everything and started back towards the register, the man had cleared away the boxes and was no longer up front. She approached the counter and sat down her basket and, after waiting a moment and not seeing him, she called out, "Hello? You still here?"
"Yes, yes, sorry. I'm on my way out," she heard him call from the back. A moment later the young man emerged with a bright, apologetic smile. "Sorry for the delay," he said, but Bella couldn't reply. She was in too much shock. There, standing before her in a grocer's apron with an uncharacteristically contrite expression was none other than Rawley's biggest pain in the neck, Ryder Forrest. "Uh, you okay, ma'am?" he asked when she still didn't say anything.
"Huh? Uh, oh, yeah, yeah. I'm . . . I'm fine," she said.
"Find everything okay?" he asked.
"Just f-fine," she replied. He nodded, but gave her a peculiar look, then began to ring up the items in her basket.
"That comes to $17.53," he told her. She handed him a twenty. "Three forty-seven is your change, ma'am," he said as he handed the money back. "Have a great day."
"Thank you," she replied softly, still unable to believe that this was real. Ryder . . . a grocery store clerk? The world really had gone crazy. Either that, or she was stuck in the Twilight Zone. With a disbelieving shake of her head, Bella gathered up her bags and headed out of the store, finally noticing on her way out that the sign she'd always known to say McAfee's Grocery now read something different. In bold white letters across the glass front window it said Forrest Grocery.
Yep, she thought, I'm definitely in the Twilight Zone.
* * * * *