AN: This Bella is as OOC as you can get. She's really bitchy, but that's just how her character is. She kind of reminds me of Damon Salvatore, my FAVORITE vampire, from the Vampire Diaries. Enjoy!
PS: Who can name what show I stole the town meeting idea from? (Disclaimer: I don't own that show.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. It belongs to Stephenie Meyer.
Chapter Two: Forks, Washington is the Worst Place in the World
BPOV
I couldn't decide whether I liked Edward Cullen or not. I could see that he obviously had rude, sarcastic side to him, but his innocence was preventing it from coming out.
I hate innocence.
I added the final details to the little golden retriever I had just carved, and tossed it over to Jacob. "I think I found your long lost brother!"
He growled at me, because apparently long-lost brothers were a touchy subject among werewolves. Here was what I knew: Embry didn't know if the woman who raised him was his real mother or not. Sam's mother, who's kind of a slut, may or may not be his mother. She says she can't remember. And that, in my opinion, either means that she was stoned while she was in labor (highly unlikely), or she just didn't want to raise the kid.
I pouted as he smashed the carving to pieces. "Hey, that was a good one!"
Let's just say that's not the first dog I've carved for Jacob. In fact, I think he secretly has a collection of them that he's going to sell on eBay or something.
I stood up, sent one more glare at him, and ran out to the kitchen, which, of course, startled Emily. She let out a little squeal before dropping her very hot muffins onto the ground. Damn it. I hear a sizzle.
"Sorry, Emily," I said dully, only to use super speed again to pick the muffins up before they left a mark on the floor. Sure enough, there were little brown singes around the tiles of the floors, directly where each muffin had been positioned. I guess they each wanted to leave their mark.
I placed the tin on the cooling rack, the heat not even affecting my hands because of their deadly (literally) coldness. She smiled sheepishly as Sam walked in the room, staring at the brown marks.
"Um…. we can tell people it's for decoration." That's all he said, and then he walked away.
I shrugged. "He's right. Just tell people you're opening a professional giant-muffin making business that isn't open to the public, because you only offer your services to high-end restaurants outside of the country."
She stared at me. "That's a terrible idea, Bella."
I scowled at her before exiting the building, figuring I'd been there long enough for one day. Besides, I needed to hunt.
I found a nice, juicy fat guy down in Olympia. I just took enough to last me for about a week, then tossed him in an alley, leaving him to wake up alone about three hours later. On my way home, though, I saw the chief of police, Charlie Swan, walking by. I'd always liked that guy. I'm not sure if it's because we shared the same last name or because he didn't leer at me creepily like most old men did.
"Hey, Charlie," I greeted him. I kept tabs on all the major people that would be able to expose me, keeping them on first name basis. It made me look less suspicious.
"Hi, Bella. Are you coming to the town meeting tonight?"
I smirked. The town meetings were the only good thing about this town. "Don't I always?"
He mumbled something that was beyond depicting and waved as he walked away. He is so awkward.
I shook my head, walking back to the forest. Okay, here's the thing: I don't exactly live in a house. There's really no need to, as a vampire: anything you need to hunt for is outside anyway; your clothes always smell good because of your unnatural vampire scent; and you don't need a shower unless you've been mud wrestling.
And why the hell would a vampire mud wrestle?
Therefore, I didn't have a home. I wasn't a nomad, either, though. I lived in this forest, or in Italy. Those were my only two permanent homes.
I had been in the Volturi for about two hundred years. I probably shouldn't tell you this, because you'll make fun of me, but I'm three hundred and sixty six years old. In my defense, that's not that old for a vampire.
Anyway, the Volturi are an ancient group of vampires that think they rule the world. Aro, the leader, thinks he's my father. It gets on my nerves, because I never knew who my biological human father was; so you can imagine how much is pisses me off to find out that there's a fraud who's not even human trying to pass as him.
I ran to the library, figuring books would help ease my constant boredom. There's never anything to do in this hellhole of a town. Perfect for someone like Edward.
On the way, I ran into one of my least favorite humans of all time: Mike Newton. Or, as I call him, 'Fig Newton Bar'. He had short, golden blonde hair with sky blue eyes. He was around average height—probably five ten, give or take; and he wasn't fat. I guess you couldn't call him ugly.
I'm still going to.
"Hi, Bella."
I stifled a groan. "What, Mike?"
He smiled, despite my rudeness. "Where are you off to?"
"None of your business."
He winked. Ewe. "I think I'll join you."
I stopped in the middle of my long, exasperated steps. "I didn't ask you to, did I?"
He shrugged. "Well, no. I would think you would know that."
I would slap him if it wouldn't shatter his little baby face to pieces. "It's rude to invite yourself."
"Yeah, but you're rude, too. Rude people like rude people. Am I right?" He let out a most unattractive, stupid sounding laugh.
"No."
I was hoping to wound his feelings, but I digress. For the Fig Newton Bar followed me all the way to the library, as if he were immune to my menacing glares. His heart wasn't beating any faster than normal, and his eyes had a happy twinkle in them, like he just knew that he was winning his way to my heart.
Damn. He really is stupid.
When I reached the romance section, he asked me, "Have you read any of Sarah Dessen's books?"
Well, he obviously wasn't into the classics. "Who the hell is Sarah Dessen?"
He stuttered unintelligently. "She writes…like…stupid, romantic novels for teenage girls. I've only heard of her because of my sisters. It's not like I've read them, or anything…that would be dumb."
No, Mike… you trying to tell a lie would be dumb. "First, you don't have any sisters, you moron. Second, are you calling me a stupid teenage girl?"
"Yes. No."
I rolled my eyes. "Wow, what a charmer! Seriously, Newton: What the hell do you want? You'd think you would've told me why you're bothering me in the forty five minutes we spent bonding, on our way to the library like BFF's."
He looked hurt. Fucking finally. "I just wanted to hang out with you, Bella. I think you're really cool. And I also think that you're a sweet, scared person under that tough exterior that you wear. I want to break through it so that I can see the real you. And that, my dear, is why I'm here."
What. The. Fuck.
"Wow." I walked away, having nothing more to contribute to the conversation. Mike the Fig Newton Bar is insane, there are new vampires in town, and Sam thinks that there's a war ahead of us.
I officially hate Forks, Washington.
Five hours, eleven books, another fat person from Port Angeles and it was time for the only redeeming quality Forks had to offer: the town meetings.
The town meetings were run by Jessica Stanley's father, who was a fat, ugly, mean man with absolutely no personality. His cheeks looked like they were running ten miles an hour while he was trying to talk in his monotone voice, which no one listened to until he announced the next topic that we, as a people, were supposed to discuss.
I always got there early, because that way I could find a spot in the direct middle, where my sarcastic comments regarding 'serious problems about our community' could be heard by everybody.
It was to my great dismay to see that none other than Edward Cullen and family walked through the door, obviously trying to gain the town's trust. They'll have everyone's trust but mine by the end of the night, most likely. We vampires have the mysterious appeal that humans like. Don't ask me why; I just use it to my advantage.
They walked up to Charlie, who always sat in the front row, and shook his hand, one by one, exchanging pleasantries.
I despise pleasantries.
Edward's eyes met mine, and my mouth twitched in amusement as he looked, panicked, back in forth between his family and myself. I raised my eyebrows, as if to mockingly say, what's wrong? Don't you want the rude, bitchy girl to meet your innocent little family?
I was looking for some kind of reaction, such as, 'yes, I'd love for you to rub off your charming personality', or, 'stay the hell away from them or I'll rip your head off'.
Since he was the polite man that he was, though, he trudged over, family in tow, and introduced me to them.
Eh, what the hell? I guess I don't have to be rude…. just not polite. "Hello. Nice to meet you." Damn. That sounded too pleasant. And pleasant meant conversation, which lead to exchanging addresses and such (which would be kind of hard to explain), which then leads to them asking you to go to social gatherings of sorts.
As you can see, being pleasant is a bad, bad thing.
I got all warm and fuzzy responses, except for a blonde that looked like a model that was missing from a runway. I liked her. She was cold, and somewhat reminded me of myself. Maybe she'll rub off on the rest of them and make them more bearable to be around.
I swear to God, though, I'd rather gauge my eyeballs out with eyelash curlers than listen to Alice's squeaky little voice again. I shudder just thinking about hearing it for the first time.
They sat down in the back, and I sighed in relief when they were gone. The meeting began not long after that, and the first topic was the Cullen's move to town.
The Fig Newtons thought that they were welcome as long as they didn't go broke and start asking for money from people. Carlisle assured them that this wouldn't be an issue.
Lauren…I don't know what her last name is…declared that they were all really hot. And then all the other teenage girls piped up to agree with her.
Okay, I had to admit it: Edward was probably the most gorgeous boy I had ever seen. His hair was a really dark auburn and in a casual disarray. His black eyes were kind of sad and ancient looking—probably the opposite of mine. It also didn't hurt him that he was tall, around 6'2, and lean with just enough muscle to not look skinny but to also not look bulky.
The rest of the town welcomed him eagerly, and we were onto our next subject: politics. I hated politics, because politics and economy, our final subject, were the two most boring things you could talk about. I didn't contribute much because of this, so time dragged by sluggishly.
Ugh. I hate this town. The only thing fun about it was the fact that the neighbors bitched at each other constantly and all hated one another. It was like the Elite Forks Club. Everyone was in it, but no one wanted to be.
When the meeting was finally adjourned, I went back to the forest, ignoring the owl that had the nerve to stare me down, and fell asleep. That is, until all the birds in the sky decided to migrate all at once, like they were fucking hypnotized or something.
As I groaned, covered my ears and rolled over, thoroughly irritated, there was only one thing running through my brain: Yep. I definitely hate Forks, Washinton.
