Okay, since an amazing amount of people actually read "The Talk," I've decided to write an actual full length story. I hope you all enjoy it, if only slightly.

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The Suck Factor

Okay. My life sucks. It's a common fact. In fact, if you walked into a complete stranger's house and said, "Hey, does Isabella Marie Swan's life suck?" I'm absolutely positive that they'd tell you something like, "Uh, DUH." And so it goes. When you have a mass of frizz sitting on your head, glasses like Coke bottles, and an awkward-at-best way of carrying yourself, your life generally has entered Suckville, population: me. So there's really no point in trying to make my life suck harder, right?

Wrong. According to my parents, my life should suck just a little bit more. So they're moving me to Forks, Washington. As if enough people don't already know of my hideousness. I want to stay in Phoenix, but at least I'm moving in the middle of the summer. Then maybe I can hide out and read my books. Then, at school, I'll have steeled myself against all the talk of the new girl and I can go about my business as if nothing is going on. Sure, it'll bug the hell out of me, but no one else has to know that!

Now my flight is landing, and the attendant is telling us to put our stuff away. Not in those exact words of course, but you get the gist. I put my seatbelt on and wait for our plane's wheels to touch ground. I know it's going to freak me out. As soon as it does, I'm proved right as I jump about a foot in the air off of my seat. As soon as I get to the terminal, I'm going to hurl, I told myself.

After an hour or so, when I am in the terminal, I run to the bathroom. A good five minutes later I head over to the luggage carousel to see Charlie, my dad, waiting for me.

"Hey, kiddo," he says, with a smile so big I fear for his poor cheeks, "It's great to see you. You look gorgeous, as always."

I suppress a snort as I step into his embrace, for the first time glad that I'm here. I love my father with all my heart, and I've missed him these past years. Two weeks every summer is not enough. We grab my luggage and walk toward the exit, not speaking, just enjoying each other's company. One great thing about my father: he doesn't have to speak. I got that from him.

We exit the airport and head to Charlie's cruiser. Crap. I had momentarily forgotten that we would be driving like snails today. With airport traffic, and the magical car slowing powers of a cop, I was seriously considering walking, for it might have been the faster route.

Well, I could….oh, never mind; too risky. I would, but I'd end up on the five o clock news, and then on a lab table, which is not my idea of a fun Saturday night. Not that I would know. I've never had friends to go out with on a Saturday night. I think back to the hair straightener, make-up, new wardrobe, and contacts in my suitcase, and hope to God that that will change in Forks.

I had an idea in Phoenix. What if I was never the ugly girl? Sure, there'd still be whispers about the new girl, but not about the ugly new girl, which was highly appealing. I had only tried it once in Phoenix, and that was in my room when I was bored. Although I will say, the results made me giggle at the fact that I wasn't half bad.

So I brought all of the things I had used that night with me, to recreate that look daily. I must say I'm glad I did.

After two hours (it should only take one from Port Angeles to Forks, such is the power of the cruiser) we finally made it back to my new home.

We grabbed my entire luggage from the trunk, and headed upstairs to my all too familiar room. He hadn't changed anything since I had last been here when I was ten. Those two summer weeks are mainly spent in LA.

Everything was the same, same bed, same blue walls, same lace curtains, same old rocking chair. It was as if I had stepped into my childhood. And, in a way, it was kind of comforting. All of the sudden there was fierce knocking at the front door.

I walked downstairs and yelled to Charlie that I'd get it. I walked to the door and opened it.

"Hi! I'm Mary Alice Brandon Cullen, but you can call me Alice! I live right next door to you and I'd just like to be the first to say welcome to the neighborhood!" a girl with short black hair and obsidian colored eyes practically squeaked at me the second the door was open. Then she thrust her hand out to me.

"Isabella Marie Swan, but you can call me Bella," I told her calmly as I shook her hand.

"Would you and Chief Swan like to come over for dinner tonight? My mom is making pot roast, and we have tons extra," she squealed. I already liked her. She looked like a fun girl. A little bit hyper, but fun.

"Um, hold on, lemme' ask Charlie," I told her. I walked into the living room to see Charlie in front of the plasma screen, watching some type of sport.

"Dad? The Cullens invited us for dinner, what should I tell Alice?"

"Tell her to tell her mom that we'll be there and that she's the best."

"Okey-dokey, Smokey bear," I told him, letting our inside joke shine. He chuckled and continued to watch basketball, which is what I could now tell it was.

I walked back to the door and gave Alice a thumbs-up. She squealed for real this time.

"Come over at seven, okay?"

"Okay, Alice," I said, trying not to laugh at her eagerness.

"You know, Bella, I can already tell that we're going to be great friends!" she said, and tapped her head in an all-knowing way. "I can see it."

"That sounds like fun to me Alice," I told her truthfully. It might be fun to have an actual friend.

"See you at seven!" she said as she walked toward her house.

I closed the door and went upstairs to my room to get ready. After all, why not start maintaining the not ugly look now. I wanted to look nice for dinner.

I took a five minute shower and combed my hair. I got my straightener and plugged it in as I went to pick an outfit out of my suitcase. I went with a pair of dark wash skinny jeans, and a navy blue sweater. Something I would never wear in Phoenix, but I found perfect for Forks' weather. I laid it on my bed as I heard the straightener beep from the bathroom. I meticulously straightened my hair and then grabbed my make-up bag.

I kept my make-up light, just some pale pink eye shadow and mascara. I didn't have zits and I blushed enough on my own so it was all I really needed. I finished the look with some clear gloss for my lips and then went to get dressed. I put my chosen outfit on and got my black Chuck Taylor's from my bag. I laced them up and then stepped up to the full length mirror in my closet.

I looked pretty darn good compared to my normal. And I didn't even break a sweat doing it. But that's because I didn't use my hands or feet.

How, you may ask, did I accomplish this feat? Simple.

I'm telekinetic.

Yep, I can move things with my mind, including myself, which explains why I didn't walk anywhere. The only reason that the Suck Factor on my life hasn't been a ten out of ten is because I can do this stuff. That makes it a nine out of ten.

I looked at the clock and saw that Charlie and I had ten minutes to get to Alice's house. I went downstairs and asked Charlie if he was ready. He told me to wait five minutes and he would be. Five minutes later he came down in a new outfit and took a look at me.

"Bells look at you!" he exclaimed, causing me to blush.

"Daaaaad," I whined, pleading with my eyes for him to let it go.

"Oh, alright."

"Thank you."

We walked over to the Cullens's house and knocked on the door. A gorgeous woman with caramel brown hair and big hazel eyes opened the door and smiled.

"Hello, Charlie," she said to dad, and then turned to me, "This must be the beautiful Bella that we've all heard so much about."

"Hello," I said, blushing to the ears.

"I'm Esme. Welcome to our home Bella," she said, radiating welcome and kindness. I liked this woman instantly, she was so lovable.

"Thank you very much for inviting us, Mrs. Cullen," I said, as I spied Alice approaching.

"Please dear, it's Esme, Mrs. Cullen makes me feel old," she chuckled, and I swear it sounded like music.

"Mom," Alice interjected, "you are far from old," she assured her as she dragged me and Charlie through the halls towards what I assume is the dining room, coming from the heavenly smells.

"Thank you dear," Esme told her daughter lovingly. "Tell me Bella, what grade are you in?"

"I'll be a junior when school starts," I said.

"Oh, perfect! You'll be in the same grades as Alice and Edward, and a year younger than our Emmett!" she said as we sat. "Speaking of which…BOYS!"

I could hear the rumble of footsteps as two men entered the room, one blond and around Esme's age, I'm assuming it was Mr. Cullen, and one that looked like a body-builder, I'm hoping he was Emmett, the senior.

But then, he came in. He had bronze hair and green eyes, he was lean, and he was heart-breakingly beautiful. He looked up and saw me, and his eyes grew wide.

I think the Suck Factor just dropped to eight.