A/N: Hello people! Well this is my very first fic! So please review! Also note that all flamers will be laughed at.
Summary: Joshua "Josh" Swan is moving in with his father, Charlie Swan, at Fork, Washington. He expects it to be boring and dreary, but it's anything but. There he catches the attention of the supernatural, including a family of vampires, a coven of rogue vampires, and a tribe of werewolves.
Warnings: Coarse Language, Suggestive Themes (but not explicit), Violence, and SLASH! Male!Bella, AU (canon at first but becomes more AU as you go), a bit of character bashing, but not really.
Decided Pairings: Jasper/Alice, Emmett/Rosalie, Carlisle/Esme
Undecided Parings: Josh and Edward/Jacob/Other
A/N2: As you can see from above, I have no idea who I'm pairing Josh with, yet. I'm not putting up a poll or anything, but you can express your opinions in a review *hint, hint*
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, Stephanie Meyer does.
First Sight
I stood outside of the airport and sighed. My carry-ons for the flight was my cellphone, my mp3 player (not an IPod) and my hoodie, which would hopefully, keep me warm enough when I reached Forks, Washington.
Forks...
My dad, Charlie Swan, lived there. He's the chief of police and was born and raised there. He and my mom, Renée, married young and divorced a year and six months after I was born, my mom taking custody of me and moving back her home town, Phoenix, Arizona. Every year for the summer I would go back to Forks, Dad spent the summer fishing with his best friend Billy Black and he would drag me along. Billy would bring his son, Jacob, too.
I wasn't a big fan of fishing, but I enjoyed the time with my dad, but as I got older I went into a rebellious stage and pitched fits over it. Finally my dad gave in and we spent the remaining summers in California.
But now Mom is remarried. Her husband Phil was okay, a bit young, but now the bills were getting paid.
Phil played minor league baseball so he traveled a lot. I know mom really wants to travel with him, so I'm moving to Forks to live with Dad.
"Josh," Mom started. "You don't have to do this."
"Mom, I really don't mind," I told her straightening my shirt. I looked a lot like Mom, I had her heart shaped face, her pale complexion (which was, thankfully, zit free), and her short, slender build. But my hair, which was a wavy, dark brown, and my eyes, wide and chocolate brown, came from Dad.
She sighed. "Tell Charlie I said hi."
I smiled weakly. "I will Mom."
She engulfed me in a hug. "I'll see you soon," she whispered in my ear. "You can come home whenever you want, I'll come back as soon as you need me."
I looked into her eyes and saw that she would do just that, but I knew what she would have to give up coming home.
"Don't worry," I said looking holding Mom. "It'll be fine, I love you, Mom."
"I love you too," she said giving me a rib-crushing hug. She sniffled a bit but didn't cry, I was going to miss her, but I needed to do this. I got onto the plane and said goodbye to Phoenix.
.
It was a four hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, then another hour from Seattle to Port Angeles, and then another hour drive to Forks. I was nervous about the flight, I had a slight fear of heights, but I got a window seat on both flights and the scenery was beautiful.
I got off the plane in Port Angeles and after getting my bags I went to the pick-up area where Dad was waiting, he was standing next to the cruiser, a teenage boy in a police car, joy. Dad was the Chief of Police in Forks. The cruiser was one of the main reasons that I was saving up for a car, I refused to be driven back and forth to school my junior year by my dad in the cruiser while I had my license.
Dad gave me an awkward one-armed hug and smiled a bit. "Hey Josh. It's good to see you son," he said helping me put my bags in the back of the cruiser. "You haven't changed much, how's Renée?"
"Mom's good, it's good to see you too, Dad."
We got into the car and as we got ready to leave he looked at me. "I got a good car for you, real cheap."
I looked at him suspiciously. "What kind of car?" I noticed the "good car for you" in there, not just a "good car".
"Well… it's actually a truck, a Chevy."
"Is it the one Billy drove?" I asked remembering the metallic monster, it was real old when I was little, now it must be ancient.
"Yeah, his diabetes damaged some nerves in his legs and now he's in a wheelchair and can't drive it anymore, when I told him I was looking for a car for you he offered to sell it, cheap." I was reluctant; it was ancient and probably needed a lot of work done to it, that wouldn't be cheap.
Dad must have noticed my slight apprehension and continued. "Billy and Jacob did a lot of work on it, it works great."
I knew that Billy fixed cars a lot and it slipped my mind, I guess it would work well then. "How cheap is cheap?"
"Well, I already bought it for you, as a homecoming gift."
Wow. Free.
"You didn't have to buy it for me Dad; I was going to buy myself a car anyway."
"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here." He was looking straight ahead, he was trying to keep me from guessing his emotions, I was good at reading people and he knew this.
"Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate it." I decided not to mention I doubted I would be happy here, the constant rain was depressing.
"You're welcome," he mumbled, his slightly pink cheeks indicated his embarrassment of my thanks.
We made some more small talk but most of the ride was silent. I stared out of the windows; it was very green in Forks, almost too green.
We eventually made it to Dad's. He lived in the same two-bedroom house that he and Mom bought after they first got married. I looked in the driveway and saw the car, it looked a lot older, the paint was faded, but thankfully not in ugly splotches, with big rounded fenders and a bulging cab.
For some reason I fell in love with it, I wasn't a bad driver, but I had my moments. This was the kind of truck that survived a crash with a sports car, unscathed, and the other car crushed to pieces.
"Thanks Dad! I really do love it," I said giving my dad a brief hug, now I wouldn't have to choose between the cruiser or walking.
"I'm glad you like it," he said, embarrassed again.
It took us one trip to get my stuff upstairs, my room overlooked the front yard. It was the same as it was only years ago, it had been both my nursery and my room while visiting. It had the same hardwood floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, and the yellow lace curtains (which I'm definitely getting rid of). It still had my old bed, which was one of the few moments I was glad for my midgetness, the bed was tiny. On the other side was an old oak desk which now held my laptop, which I had won in a drawing at a party sponsored by my school.
There was a small bathroom next to my room; across the hall was the master room. I had to share the bathroom with Charlie, it was a good thing I'm going to cook, no beans for Charlie as long as I'm here.
I unpacked and got settled, Charlie left me alone. I was slightly grateful, the move was a bit overwhelming and I needed to gather myself.
Tomorrow would be my first day of school, Forks had a total of three hundred and fifty-seven, well fifty-eight, students; at Phoenix my school had seven hundred people in my class alone. Everyone here knew everyone and their cousin, their grandparents grew up together. I would be the new guy, and once it got out I was gay, there would be a lot of scrutiny.
I forgot to mention that didn't I? Well, it's true; I Joshua Noam Swan was gay, homosexual, a flamer, a fag, whatever you wanted to call it, that's me. I didn't have any boyfriends in Phoenix and I'm still a virgin, and unlike most, I didn't plan on losing it in high school, I'd rather it be with someone I loved rather than some high school fling.
Once I finished packing I laid on my bed, I was extremely tired so I went ahead and went to sleep, I would take a shower in the morning.
.
I slept fine that night, the rain was calming, it was a lot like a lullaby. When I woke up there was a thick fog outside, I couldn't even see my truck.
I ate breakfast and Charlie left, wishing me luck, I thanked him. I finished getting ready and then went out the door; I was wearing my jacket over my hoodie.
I got into the truck and chocked slightly, there was a hint of cigarette odor in the car, I hated the smell, and I vowed to get an air freshener later. I drove to the school, which hadn't been hard to find, and parked in front of a building that had a small sign over the door reading FRONT OFFICE. No one else was parked here, so I quickly got out and sped to the office, I guessed it wasn't allowed to park there but I didn't want to look like an idiot driving around the school.
It was brightly lit inside, and much warmer than it was outside. I was in a small waiting area with padded folding chairs, commercial carpeting (I grimaced at the putrid orange), and notices and awards cluttered the walls around a large clock that ticked loudly. Plants grew everywhere in the room in plastic (mismatched) pots, great, more green. The room was cut in half by a large counter that was covered with wire baskets filled with papers and colorful flyers tapped to the fronts. Three desks were behind the counter, one was manned by a large woman with unnaturally red hair and large glasses. She was wearing a purple T-Shirt, way different than a secretary at my old school would wear.
She looked up. "Can I help you?"
"I'm Joshua Swan," I informed her, and saw a glint in her eyes. I was expected, I knew I was a topic for the gossipers of Forks. The son of the Police Chief and his flighty ex-wife, come home at last.
"Of course, of course," she said. She dug through a stack of papers on her desk till she found what she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She showed me the papers.
Period . . . Class . . . . . . . . . . . . . Room . . . . . . . . Teacher
1 . . . . . . Grade 11 English . . . . . 3-3 . . . . . . . . . . Mason
2 . . . . . . Government . . . . . . . . .6-2 . . . . . . . . . .Jefferson
3 . . . . . . Trigonometry . . . . . . . .1-3 . . . . . . . . . . .Varner
4 . . . . . . Spanish . . . . . . . . . . . .5-2 . . . . . . . . . . .Geoff
5 . . . . . . Lunch . . . . . . . . . . . . .Cafeteria . . . . . . . . . . . . .
6 . . . . . . Biology . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-3 . . . . . . . . . . .Banner
7 . . . . . . Physical Education . . . . Gymnasium . . . . . Clapp
She went through each class for me, highlighting the best routes from class-to-class; she also gave me a slip for each of my teachers to sign, which I had to bring back to her at the end of the day. She told me her name was Mrs. Cope and that she hoped that I would like Forks. I hoped so too.
I went back to my truck; other students were arriving, so I drove around the school, going with the traffic flow. I was glad most of the cars were old like mine, back in Phoenix my truck would've been a laughing stock. The nicest car was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out.
I tried to memorize the map, so I wouldn't have to walk around all day looking at it. I placed it in a binder and into my backpack. I breathed in deeply and got out of the truck.
I kept my face hidden by the hood of my jacket; my plain black jacket didn't stand out in the crowd, which was a relief.
I reached building three, where the English classes were, according to Mrs. Cope. I walked in the door behind two people and looked around. The classroom was small; posters of famous authors hung on the walls, a few posters of books-turned-movies, like Romeo and Juliet, the Odyssey, Phantom of the Opera, and others. I walked up to the teacher, a tall, balding man, and handed him the slip and I introduced myself. He gawked slightly and I sighed internally, I hoped that not all the teachers were like this.
He didn't introduce me to the class and sent me to the empty desk in the back of the classroom while handing me the syllabus. The reading list was basic: Brontё, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulker. I've read all of it. I briefly wondered if I could convince Mom to send me some of my old essay, but quickly squashed the idea.
When the bell rang, which sounding like an airhorn, a gangly boy with bad skin problems and greasy, black hair leaned across the aisle to talk to me.
"You're Joshua Swan, aren't you?" He reminded me of the over helpful, chess club type.
"Josh," I corrected. Everyone within a three-seat radius looked our way, great.
"Where's your next class?" he asked.
I rechecked my schedule. "Um, I have Government, with Jefferson, in building six."
"I'm headed for building four, I could show you the way…" Definitely over-helpful. "I'm Eric Yorkie by the way," he added.
I smiled slightly, hoping he didn't see the grimace. "Thanks."
"Hey, no problem, need a tour guide, a friend, a shoulder to cry on, I'm the one."
Did he seriously just say "a shoulder to cry on"? What am I, a girl? Was he trying to flirtor something? It was a very poor attempt, if he was.
Class ended and we got our jackets and headed out into the rain. I swear, there were people behind us close enough to eavesdrop.
"So, this is different than Phoenix, huh?" he asked.
"Very."
"Does it rain much in Phoenix?"
"Three or four times a year."
"Wow, what's that like?"
Seriously? "Sunny."
"You're not very tan."
"My mother's albino," I said sarcastically.
He looked at me apprehensively. Sarcasm was lost to him apparently.
We walked around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.
"Well, good luck," he said as I opened the door. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful, great, I had a stalker now.
I smiled vaguely and walked in the door.
.
The rest of my morning passed in a similar fashion. My Trig teacher, Mr. Varner, was an asshole. I would've thought this already, because he taught my least favorite subject, but he was the only teacher that made me introduce myself in front of the class. Plus he insisted on calling me Joshua, bastard.
After two classes, I started to recognize several faces in each class. One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, nearly a foot shorter than my five feet six inches, but her wild, curly hair almost made up for the difference. I couldn't remember her name, so I smiled and nodded as she gossiped away about other students and teachers.
We sat at the end of a table that was full with several of her friends, who she introduced me to. I forgot the names as soon as she said them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me. The boy from English, Elijah or something, waved to me from across the room.
Then, I saw them.
They were on the farthest side of the cafeteria in the corner, there were five of them. They were silent, not even looking at each other, they weren't eating, there trays full but untouched. But this isn't what got my attention.
There were five of them, three boys and two girls. They all looked so different, but all had striking similarities.
The girls were total opposites. The first girl was tall and had golden blonde hair; she could've easily been a Victoria's Secret model. She was so beautiful that any girl sitting near her would take a hit at her self-esteem. The other girl was short, she barely reached the other girl's shoulder and her feet didn't touch the ground completely. She was extremely thin, borderline anorexic looking, but she didn't have the bony structure, she was naturally thin, like me, I guess. Her hair was dark, nearly black, and stuck out in many directions, but it seemed styled that way. She kind of reminded me of a pixie.
The boys were opposites as well. The boy sitting next to the blonde was extremely tall, he looked almost like a body builder, but not in that gross, over-muscled way, he could've easily made it onto an issue of Playgirl. He had dark, curly hair and he had cute dimples when he smiled, which seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face. I crossed my legs to hide a certain problem that had popped up. The boy next to the pixie-girl was around the same height as the blonde girl, he had honey blonde hair, he was muscular like the other boy, but leaner. The last boy, who was sitting between the other two boys, was much more boyish looking, he had bronze hair that seemed styled up, and it was very sexy.
They all had the same marble-white skin, I could barely see their eyes from the distance, but they all looked black, and their faces were perfect, no bumps, zits, or freckles. I watched as the pixie-girl got up and danced, because that's what it looked like, towards the trashcans. She was extremely graceful, more so than any ballerina.
"Who are they?" I asked the girl from Spanish, whose name was still forgotten.
She looked where I was looking and smiled knowingly. I noticed that the youngest looking boy looked our way. His dark eyes flickered to mine.
He looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in embarrassment, I looked away at once.
My neighbor giggled and looked away too.
"That's the Cullens and Hales. The big guy is Emmett Cullen, the boy next to him is Edward Cullen, the two blondes are Rosalie and Jasper Hale, twins, and the girl that just left is Alice Cullen."
Huh, old-fashioned names. I guess small towns are more likely to have them, I just remembered that the girl next to me name's Jessica. A common name, two girls in my History class back home was named Jessica.
"They're very… nice-looking." I offered the last bit a little lamely.
"Yeah, I know!" Jessica giggled. "They're all together though… and they live together." Her voice held the shock and condemnation of the small town. But then again, it sounded like incest to me.
"Are they, related?" I asked. "They really don't look it."
"Oh they're not," she said as if it was completely obvious, which it was, I guess. "Dr. Cullen, their dad, is really young, in twenties of thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are the only ones actually related, but they're all foster kids."
"They look a bit old for it."
"They are, now, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett are all eighteen, but Jasper and Rosalie have been with Dr. and Mrs. Cullen since they were eight, Mrs. Cullen's their aunt or something."
"That's really nice of them, taking care of those kids when they're so young."
"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly. "But I think Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though."
I glared at her. "And what's that supposed to mean?" I asked hotly.
She fumbled. "Uhh… well…"
"I'll have you know that my mom can't have any more children either, she nearly died giving birth to me," I continued angrily. "The woman's obviously very kind in taking in five children and you try to make it sound scandalous that she can't have any children of her own!"
I had gathered the attention of most tables nearby, I noticed that the Cullen's were looking my way, curiously.
"I can tell you're jealous of them, you have more make-up caked on your face than a Chinese hooker, your hair looks like it should be back in the eighties, they obviously have money if there designer clothes indicate anything while you have cheap knock-offs. You're just a jealous little girl who feels like attacking others just to make yourself feel better!" I towered over her now; I shot her a disgusted look and picked up my tray, threw it away, not hungry anymore, and left.
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