Disclaimer: I don't own the Twilight Saga.
Chapter 1
"And the Oscar goes to….." This wait was excruciating. My heart was up my throat, my palms were sweating, butterflies invaded my stomach, and there was tension throughout my body. Why couldn't they just announce the winner? This wait is definitely more painful then knowing that I lost. Why couldn't they just open the envelope? Why must they make me suffer like this? It's cruel. "Isabella Swan!"
My mouth dropped open and I was paralyzed for a split second, but I was quickly able to gather myself and return back to the glamorous movie star that America loved. I stood up and put on my infamous toothy smile just in time for all of the cameras to turn towards me. I then began to saunter towards the stage in my one-shoulder, ivory, lace dress. It was form-fitting, but came down to my knees. I was wearing red heels, with red dangling earrings, matched with blood red lipstick. My flowing brown hair was curled to perfection and bounced with my every step. When I got up to the microphone, I gave a short speech that I prepared the night before, just in case I won, collected my prize, and then left as swiftly as I came.
"Oh, Bella, I'm so proud of you!" my mother gushed as soon as we were alone and on our way back home. My mom was the exact opposite of the "cool mom". One would think that after being in Hollywood with me and having a daughter that is making millions as an actress, she would pick up on the trends and learn how to act.
"Thanks, mom." I muttered out as I rolled my eyes.
"Bella, do you remember when you weren't famous?" my mother asked as we sat in our limo.
"Vaguely, I try to keep out those memories." Why were we having this discussion? I didn't really want to go down memory lane.
"You used to be a very sweet girl."
"Aren't I still sweet?" I said showing her my puppy eyes and pout. My mom easily gave into my trap.
"I'm just worried that you'll turn into one of those plastic, no-good, celebrities."
"There's nothing to fear." I reassured her and I powdered my nose.
"Well, you know that your father's wanted to see you for some time now."
"Can't he just turn on the T.V.? I'm everywhere."
"Not like that, Bella." My mother said, giving me a stern look.
"Fine, I guess I could take a weekend off." I compromised.
"How about six months?" my mother suggested.
"Six months!" I screamed. "I can't take six months off!"
"Why not? You're not filming anything."
"What am I supposed to do for six months? Sit around and knit?"
"Of course not sweetie," my mother chuckled, "you'll be going to high school."
"But I have a tutor. I don't need high school."
"You're not bringing a tutor with you. Besides, I want you to experience real life and high school."
"I'm a celebrity, there's no way I could go to school without being crowded by my screaming fans. And I am not going incognito. I don't do the whole Hannah Montana is really Miley Cyrus thing. I am not wearing a wig."
"But it'll work out perfectly. Forks is an extremely small town. There will hardly be anyone there to crowd you. And I promise you that you won't have to wear a wig."
"How about four months?"
"Nope." My mother may not be trendy, but she definitely is stubborn.
"When do ship me off?" I sighed.
"Today."
"But when am I going to pack? I need my clothes, and makeup, and shoes, and purses…"
"Calm down Bella, your suitcases will be waiting for us at the airport."
"Don't tell me you packed my stuff."
"No, Ines did. And by the way, you only have two suitcases, not your whole closet."
My mouth dropped open. For once I had nothing to say.