Hi ! I'm Lena and this is my first ever fanfic. I hope you enjoy! Please feel free to give me as much feedback as possible-- good and bad. I'm here to be a better writer! :)

Chapter 1- BPOV

I lied down on the grass, trying to clear my head. He lied down next to me, and held my hand.

"Don't worry," he whispered, "I'll never forget you. We'll see each other again, some day."

"How could you know that?" I snapped, instantly regretting it. This was hardly the time to get testy. We only had so much time left between us.

"I just do. It's like… fate or something, right?"

"I guess," I sighed. I stared up at the gray sky, the clouds that signaled that rain was on its way.

"Bella," he leaned up on his arm to look at me. "You're my best friend. We'll keep in touch, I promise… we won't lose each other."

I looked at him speculatively. He chuckled at my unsure expression.

"Don't you believe me?" I shrugged. "Like I'm ever wrong," he chuckled.

"Oh please, you always are!" I teased him, poking his stomach.

"What?" I laughed, and soon he gave up on his mock look of offense and laughed with me.

"Bella? You there?" Charlie's voice snapped me out of my reverie.

I mean Dad. Right. Not Charlie.

"Yeah, Cha—dad, I was just thinking," I answered.

"You excited to see all your old friends?" he asked. What a bad time for him to suddenly decide to be conversational.

"Um, yeah. I talked to Alice a few weeks ago. And Rosalie texted me on my birthday last year." My friends and I did keep in touch, relatively speaking. Except for the one I wanted to hear from… the only one I really needed to hear from.

"Well, that's nice of them. Y'know, we're just across the street from Cullen's house. I bet you and Alice will be good friends." I stiffened instantly.

"Yeah, dad," I answered, my voice strained, "I bet we will. Alice is nice."

"She's a sweet girl."

Then the awkward silence again. For once I was grateful for it.

"Well, home sweet home," Charlie mumbled. The house was exactly the same as I remembered it from 3 years ago- a rickety white house with a peeling red door. Not by any means up to the standards of the beautiful, but very out of place, glass house across the street. The house where I used to spend most of my time. I tried not to look at it.

We gathered the few things that I had and headed inside, into my room up the staircase. It was a pleasant surprise—nothing like the pink girly room it used to be. Charlie must have taken care of that… I'd have to remember to thank him. The walls were now plain white adorned with a chalkboard on one side and a bulletin board on another. I had a small twin size bed with a navy blue comforter, and a wooden desk with a lamp on it. There was an armoire to use as a closet and a bureau with drawers. It was perfect.

"I'm going to go order a pizza. I'll help you unpack later," Charlie said.

"'Kay," I murmured back.

"And Bells," he patted my shoulder, "it's nice to have you home."

I blushed slightly. "Thanks, dad. It's nice to be back in Forks." I was careful not to say home… I could not call this place my home, yet. My home was in Phoenix, with my mother and step-dad. My home was warm and sunny and humid, not gray and rainy and cold. But I would only be in this place until I graduated in two years… two years… I tried not to dwell on that.

I began to unpack the few things I had. I left the rest at home, knowing that it wouldn't exactly be a good idea to wear tank tops and shorts here. I slowly unpacked pair after pair of jeans and t-shirt after t-shirt. I placed my clothing in drawers and my closet, and then began to unpack other items. I took my MacBook and placed it on the desk and placed my iHome on the bureau. I reached into my backpack and took out my old, but very endearing iPod and placed it on the dock. I also had a few pictures of my mom and me—those went on the bulletin board. I finished in record time—about a half hour—and sat by my window, staring outside. It was a typical day- cold and overcast. Beautiful.

"Bells!" I heard a call from downstairs.

"Yeah, dad?" I answered just as loudly.

"I gotta go to the station—just for a little while. You'll probably be asleep when I get back, so I left some money for the pizza, 'kay?"

"Okay," I answered, descending down the stairs.

"Sorry, Bells. Duty calls," he chuckled. I smiled back, and locked the door on his way out. I sighed, realizing I had just about nothing to do. It was 7:15 on a Friday night in a place where I doubt there was too much of a night life. I went upstairs to change into some lounging clothes, just a tank top and plaid flannel pajama pants when the doorbell rang.

I trotted down the stairs and opened the door to find a boy who looked around my age holding a pizza.

"You're not Chief Swan," he accused.

"Apparently not," I answered exasperatedly.

"I'm Eric, you must be the Chief's daughter… Isabella, right?"

I sighed. "It's Bella." A gust of wind blew through the door and I shivered. Eric's gaze immediately went down to my chest. Shit, I'm not wearing a bra! And it's cold!

"So here's your pizza!" He said enthusiastically. I handed him the money, and right before I closed the door, he called my name.

"Bella! By the way, you might want to put on something warmer, it's a little nippy outside today," he said with a swarmy wink.

I slammed the door in his face.

Shit.

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