The following belongs to Stephenie Meyer.
"You're going home to your mother." Charlie sounded like a broken record and I almost resigned myself to his demand. "But Dad......" I looked down in resignation. What was the point? I didn't have the strength or the will to fight it. Maybe he was right. He was intent that I would be better off with Mom. I would have to trust his judgement because I couldn't imagine feeling better in another dimension let alone another state. Edward had left me and he wasn't coming back. I had stayed in Forks for three months, barely existing, but for the small hope that he would return. It didn't matter where I lived, who I was with, my life was over without him. I could continue my zombie-like existence in Phoenix if it kept Charlie off my back.
"OK....I'll go." I looked up from staring at the floor. Charlie was startled at my response. "Uh..Good." "It's for the best," he said with a sudden command to his voice. "I'll go upstairs and pack then," I said, in the flat tone that was familiar to all my speech of late. "I'll call your Mom," he said, scratching the back of his head. I don't think Charlie had expected or even wanted my sudden change of mind, but he didn't usually backtrack. That isn't a sensible trait for a parent or a police chief. As I climbed the stairs, I overheard him call the airline to confirm the ticket for the following morning.
I packed my bags in a daze. It didn't feel right to leave Forks, just in case, but I was giving in to the momentum of life that surrounded me. I knew that outside my bubble, people were moving forwards. Towards graduation. Towards college. Eventually I would have to join them but I didn't see how. My friends were all alienated even before Edward left. Angela was still a sweetheart, of course, but I didn't want to inflict myself on her. Jacob came by now and again and he was cheerful enough. But at least in Phoenix, no-one knew the reason for, or could speculate on, my melancholy. I could probably slip back in and graduate without anyone realising I was there.
Mom and Phil were already living in the old house. Phil had set up as a freelance ball coach, visiting different schools in the area. I think he was also scouting to set up his own baseball team. Charlie had convinced my mom that if I could get back to my life pre-Forks then I might snap out of my current trance. With Phil in a settled job, Little League at the weekends and Mom making pancakes for breakfast, it would be anything but my old life. It was, however, a gallant effort to lure me back to Phoenix. I would make out that it worked, even though it was Charlies' insistence that had won over. Charlie wouldn't be satisfied until I was behaving normally and I couldn't imagine feeling or behaving like my old self again. That would mean facing my previous emotions, which were safely buried. The slightest hint of their resurfacing brought with them such unbearable pain that it was an instinctive reaction to push them back down. The slightest feeling of happiness or excitement was still vividly associated to falling in love with Edward.
Charlie was going to drop me off at the airport. As I opened the cruiser door, I had a brief flashback of the ride we shared when I came to live in Forks. I was full of trepidation at the overly green surroundings and the prospect of joining a new school. My shoulders slumped as I realised I had been right to have a bleak outlook. I forced any further thoughts out of my head and stared straight ahead. This was going to be a long hour's drive. "Bella." Charlie hesitated. "I hope you realise that this isn't what I truly want." I looked into my lap and gave a polite smile. "I know, Dad." I looked to my right, making it clear that I didn't want to continue with the confessions. "As long as you know," he said, trailing off as he looked to his left. The rest of the ride was in silence.
As the plane touched down in Phoenix, I noted that the sun was blazing in the sky. I tugged at the parka I had wrapped around my waist, thinking a small farewell for the, now redundant, garment. Renée was waiting at arrivals with a beaming smile that matched the sun outside. "Honeey," she screeched in my ear, as she hugged me tightly. "I'm so glad your home. You have to see the house. Phil and I re-decorated and it looks great. We painted your room, the same colour of course, but it's fresh and clean. How are you? How was your flight." She finally stopped for breath and looked intently into my eyes. "I'm fine," I lied with a smile, but her optimism was infectious. "OK, let's get you home."
I must admit, it did feel healthy to be back in the sun. I would wake early from the brightness at the window instead of groaning each morning at a droll post-dawn Forks. I arrived back on the Friday and Charlie had arranged for me to go to school on the Monday. That was a pre-requisite of leaving Forks. Part of me couldn't believe I was returning to my old high school, clear that I had failed in my endeavour to branch out. However, I had never really fitted in the social framework of the school and this suited my current desire to barely exist at all. In fact, the only people that would be stirred by my return would be the teachers.
Monday morning and my first class was Biology. I was a little late because I had to fill out registration forms at the front office. There was only one seat left and it was next to a boy that I had never met before. I couldn't help feeling a sense of déjà vu. I nodded and smiled politely at a few familiar faces, as I made my way to the empty seat, and sat down just as Mr Brannon called the class to order. I was slightly nervous that he would bring attention to my arrival. The teachers were presumably informed last Friday as the office staff tried to put together my timetable with unaccustomed haste. Luckily for me, he went straight into the class agenda and I had a sudden sense of old times.
"I think we have something in common." The boy next to me leaned towards me and spoke in hushed tones. I turned to look at him, wide eyed at his abruptness. "I'm new in town as well," he said as he smirked. Part of me acknowledged that he was good looking but it didn't ignite any excitement. "Um...I'm not new in town...........I'm a failed deserter," I quipped. "What were you deserting?" "The sun," I said thoughtfully, as I looked out of the window at the bright morning sky. I had a sudden flashback of wet, green foliage and looked sharply down at my papers. The boy was pale like me, with cropped, sandy coloured hair. I suppose others might think him average but my quick assessment of his chiselled features and broad shoulders had him ranked above average. Still, this was an automatic assessment, almost a reflex. It bore no emotion or desire. My answer to him had been short, discourteous even. He made no further attempt at conversation and I thought how well we would get along in silence.
