A/N- A day early, because I'm totally tubular. Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews that were left for chapter 1. I'm humbled and very appreciative of each and every one of you.
A big thanks to my pre-reading team and to my most excellent beta.
Stephanie Meyer is the sole owner…but not of the eighties. Also, I claim nothing that has to do with any of the bands or songs mentioned in the chapter. I do claim a one very special NKOTB bedding set. I was that cool.
Chapter 2
What Have I Done to Deserve This
The alarm clock blared, growing louder with each second I ignored it. Instead of the traditional annoying buzz it normally generated, The Cure's Just Like Heaven filled the space of the room. I groaned and reached over, hitting the snooze button and effectively shutting the damn thing off. I'd figure out how the alarm setting was changed after I had consumed at least one cup of coffee.
I was face down on my bed and I squinted my eyes just enough to see what time it was. The clock read a quarter to seven. It must have forgotten that it was Saturday morning and I needed my sleep. I tried to close my eyes and will sleep back to my exhausted state. It never came. Five minutes later, my head under the pillow, I groaned wishing that I could just enjoy the peaceful slumber I had experienced before Robert Smith decided I needed a wake up call.
I lifted my head from the pillow and rubbed my eyes with the backs of my hands. My head pounded and I wondered if I had drunk too much the night before. It wouldn't have been the first time but I'd always swear it would be the last.
What did I do last night? I tried to remember. It came back to me suddenly as I recalled how I was back in my hometown for the "oh so important" homecoming carnival. I had passed the crown off to the newest member of Forks High's elite royalty. Or at least, I was supposed to. I didn't actually remember doing that. I must have left or maybe drank myself stupid and called my dad to come and pick me up. It was the only explanation I had as to why I was in my old bedroom.
My eyes floated around the room taking in the decor. Dad really hadn't done a thing with the room since I had left. The poster of Rick Springfield that was on the wall opposite of my head still hung on the wall. Pictures of the old gang were scattered about on my dresser and on my nightstand, next to the damn alarm clock that decided for me that sleep was over rated, was a picture of Jacob and me.
I sighed and rolled my eyes wondering if maybe my dad was trying to tell me something. I threw the pastel pink comforter off of my body, realizing it was the exact comforter from my high school days, and slid my legs over to the edge of the bed, raising my arms over my head and stretching.
A sudden knock from the other side of the door made me jump slightly. "Bells," I heard my dad call. "Hurry and get a move on. You don't want to be late for school."
"What?" I said to myself in a whisper. "School? He has got to be off his rocker."
I walked to the door and opened it to find my dad standing right outside. I perched myself on the edge of the doorframe and crossed my arms over my chest. "School? Really?"
My dad, who looked twenty years younger, eyed me wearily. I studied his face. Age lines that were present the last time I had seen him were no longer evident. His hair was darker, only showing a few traces of gray, unlike the full on coverage he had.
"Did you color your hair?" I finally asked.
"What?" he asked surprised. "Bella, are you alright?"
He reached across and put his hand against my forehead. "You're not warm," he said to himself.
I swatted his hand away and rolled my eyes. "I'm fine, dad. But school? Why do I need to go to school?" I whined, sounding like a teenage girl.
"You're seriously starting all of this, this early in the year? Let me tell you why you need to go to school. One," he said, counting down on his hands. "It's a free education I'm not about to deny you. Two, because it's what you do. And three? Now listen good because this is the most important reason of all."
I rolled my eyes again. If I kept this up they were going to permanently stay in the back of my head.
"Because I said so," he finally stated. "Now, get ready and for crying out loud, put some clothes on when you answer your door."
He stalked away just as I looked down to take in what had him all fired up. Judging from the fact that I was clad in a Bon Jovi concert T-shirt, I'd say it was the bare legs that did the trick.
"Is he for real?" I asked myself. "I mean, really, school? I've kind of ridden that horse already."
I was going insane holding conversations with myself that I decided to just appease my dad and "get ready for school" like he had asked. Maybe there was some kind of event planned for homecoming weekend that I hadn't been aware of.
I walked across the hall to the bathroom and shut the door, clicking the lock in place. I turned on the shower and sat down on the toilet letting nature run its course.
For as long as I sat there, letting my bladder empty, I concluded that I must have drank enough to withstand the memory loss of how I had ended up at my dad's. When I was finally done, I rose, testing the warm water under my fingertips. I tore my vintage tee from my body and jumped in the shower. The water felt nice against my skin and the steam that clouded the tiny space helped clear my head of the doubts running through my mind.
I grabbed the shampoo bottle not bothering to look at what kind it was before rubbing it into my scalp. The scent nearly brought me to my knees. I quickly turned and stared at the bottle. The same coconut shampoo that I hadn't used since high school sat in the caddy against the wall. I turned around again, washing the suds from my hair and wondered if perhaps my dad had bought it for my grand homecoming. If this morning was any indication he was most definitely trying to get me to relive some old memories.
I finished in the shower, and wrapped my hair in a towel before drying myself off. When I stepped out, I looked in the fogged up mirror and used the back of my hand to wipe away the condensation. My reflection was blurry as I picked up the toothbrush I kept in the holder next to the sink. Brushing my teeth, I hummed to the last song I had heard on the radio.
When I finished I walked from the bathroom back into my bedroom. I heard movement coming from downstairs but I assumed that it was just my dad flitting about.
"School," I muttered to myself as I looked around for my suitcase. I had only packed a small over night bag, unsure if I was going to stay in town for the night.
It had to be around here somewhere. I looked on either side of the bed but came up empty. Maybe he had pushed it inside of the closet.
I strode across the room and opened the double doors. What lay inside made me gasp out loud and cover my mouth with my hands.
Inside was a full wardrobe of clothes straight out of the eighties. I thumbed through the items noticing everything from fringed jackets to acid wash blue jeans.
"No, no, no, no..." I said. "This can't be."
I nearly cried out to my dad for him to explain why on earth all of my clothes from 1989 were still in my closet when it hit me. Everything from the previous night came flooding back. I hadn't drunk enough to tranquilize a small horse; I had been sent back in time just like the fortune teller had told me.
"But time travel isn't real," I said to myself.
I jumped at the sound of the alarm clock going off again. This time, the DJ spoke from the other end.
"Hey kids, you just heard a mix of songs played at the MTV Video Music Awards last night. We started our set with The Cure's Just Like Heaven, and if you missed the show last night, you missed one heck of a performance from Madonna. Up next, a new release from the album, Hangin' Tough. Those kids from Bean Town just don't know when to quit. I've got your first listen to, Cover Girl, after these paid announcements."
New Kids on the Block? I questioned. New song? Hangin' Tough? This was so not happening. There was no way in hell I had actually time traveled back to 1989, my senior year of high school.
"Isabella Marie Swan," my dad yelled. "You have twenty minutes to get downstairs!"
"Shit," I said, stomping my foot. "Okay, this is all just a dream. That's it. I'll go through the motions and when I wake up, I'll be back in the present time. I mean, it could be fun right?"
I had seriously gone insane talking to myself but who else was I going to say all of this to? No one was inside that fortune teller booth with me. And it had to be a dream. Time travel didn't happen. This wasn't Back to the Future and I sure as hell was no Marty McFly. I'd go about my day and when I woke up things would be okay. Or would they really?
If this was real, if I had really been sent back in time, then I had been given a second chance. Things, how I knew them to be, really weren't all that great. I could change my fate, my future. I had to change the fates of six other people too.
"Shit, shit, shit!" I said a little louder.
I pulled out what I thought would be an acceptable outfit from my closet. I couldn't really tell. I hadn't dressed like this in, well, twenty years. The white-fringed jacket and tank top paired with pleated knee length shorts looked like the perfect ensemble with the white mid calf boots that had the same fringe as the jacket. It was totally Sloan from Ferris Buelers' Day off.
I dried my hair upside down, letting the gravity of having done it that way give me just enough volume. This wasn't the day of flat irons and I desperately needed one because of the natural waves that cascaded down my back. I eyed my large curling iron on top of my vanity and fired it up, hoping that I could disguise the waves with more applied curls.
I should have remembered how to do all of this. I had previously led this life. It should have come a little more naturally to me. Twenty years is a long time though. Apparently I had forgotten about a lot of things, including the electric blue eye shadow in my hot pink and purple Caboodle.
I picked up the case and turned it around studying it from every angle. I hadn't seen one of these in years. Knowing I had more around here some where, I searched my room until I found two more cases, one smaller and one much larger underneath my vanity. I opened them both to find the smaller one holding jewelry from the era. The larger of the two had all of my hair products.
Aqua Net hairspray, mega hold, mousse, banana clips, scrunchies; I laughed at the last item as I had one in just about every color.
I applied my make up making sure I didn't go overboard with the eyeshadow. I don't care what time you're from, blue eyeshadow is not a good look. It was then, as I put my face on that I realized how much younger I looked. In the bathroom earlier, the glass was too foggy to see anything but here in the light of my bedroom I could see perfectly how fresh my skin looked. No laugh lines, no crow's feet, nothing that showed I was a day over eighteen. I guess appearance wise I wasn't. My mind however was that of a woman that had been scorned. Well, in this second chance, if that's what it really was, I was going to make damn sure that didn't happen again.
I curled a few pieces of my hair, giving it a nice bounce in the form of large curls. I grabbed the Aqua Net and sprayed it liberally over every inch of hair on my head. Feeling satisfied with my look that I had pulled off in 1989, twenty years later, I opened the bedroom door and walked down the hall toward the stairs. The smell of bacon immediately hit my senses. My stomach smelled it too and growled loudly.
I laughed as I skipped down the stairs at the thought of my dad making breakfast.
"Don't burn the house down, dad," I said as I hit the first floor and spun myself around the railing. The opening of the kitchen was right in my view. I walked in and instead of finding my dad hunched over the stove, I saw the one person who had left my life suddenly.
My mother, who had died just after Christmas in 1989, was standing over the stove, carefully removing the bacon from the pan and setting it on a toweled plate. Tears immediately filled my eyes at seeing her.
Since her back was turned, I took every moment I had standing there to really look at her. She was just as beautiful as I remembered, with her short dark hair that had been cut in the same style of Lady Di. My mother always admired her. She was graceful and beautiful, just like my mother.
"Mom," I choked out.
She turned around, a spatula in one hand and a smile on her face.
"Good morning sunshine," she replied brightly. "I was wondering if we were going to have to send the troops up to get you. Hungry?"
I nodded mutely as I stepped into the kitchen.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her smile fading into a frown as she moved away from the stove to inspect me closer.
"Fine," I was able to stammer out.
"Are you sure? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I had. If this wasn't real, if I really hadn't time traveled, then who ever thought that this was some kind of funny joke was one sick person.
"Sit," she said, motioning to the chair that was pulled out from the small breakfast table.
I watched her intently as she walked back over to the stove and fixed a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon for me. She sat the plate in front of me with a smile and then turned back around to open the refrigerator. Pulling out the orange juice and grape jelly, she placed them on the table.
"Eat," she said firmly. "You're too skinny."
Before she could walk away, I reached out and grabbed her hand, afraid that the tears would not be able to be kept at bay. Instead of speaking, I stared. It seemed to be the only thing I could do at the moment.
She stared back at me, her eyes squinting together as I'm sure she tried to assess what was wrong with me. "Thank you," I finally managed to say.
"Oh, you are most definitely sick, or you want something. I'm banking on the latter."
"What? No," I protested.
"Bella, I think I know my daughter better than that. So what is it this time?" she asked, sitting at the table with her plate of food in front of her. "New shoes? A new top?"
"Mom, I swear it's nothing. Maybe I just want to thank my beautiful, wonderful mother."
"Oh my, you're really laying it on thick aren't you? Must be something good to butter me up like this. Beautiful and wonderful, those are some pretty flattering words."
She was smiling so I knew that she was only teasing me, but my answer was as honest as I could muster.
"Mom, really. I don't want anything. Maybe I'm trying to take a step in a different direction. It's a new day after all."
"Yeah and if you don't finish breakfast you're going to be late. Now, eat!"
We ate in mostly silence. I watched her as she did the simplest things, drink her coffee or spread jam on her toast. It was these little acts that I had never noticed before. Back then I had only been focused on one thing; me, myself and I. Now, I could actually sit back and appreciate the woman that I missed terribly.
I look a swig from the glass of orange juice I had been drinking before standing up from the table. My mom rose as well, taking my clean plate from my hands and setting both of ours in the sink.
"You need help with those?" I asked.
"No sweetie. You go. School is waiting for you."
"Ugh," I groaned. "School, really?"
"Yes, really," she said putting her hands on her hips. "Don't take that attitude with you all year. It's your last one before you leave this house and I can't be a pain to you anymore. Make the most of your senior year, Bella. It's the only time you'll ever be here."
I shook my head because apparently she was wrong. This was my second rodeo at the playing the high school senior. Only this time, I vowed to do things differently. I wasn't sure what that entailed but I knew something had to change if I didn't want to end up the way I did.
I gave my mother a half smile and reached out to hug her neck. She placed a small kiss on my cheek before sending me out the door.
"Bella," she called out as I walked down the walkway that led to the driveway. "You might need this."
She held my purse and keys, along with a few books in her hands. I ran back up the path and took them from her arms returning the kiss she had given me just moments before.
"Have a good day." She waved as I approached my car.
I waved back to her and stopped short when the car I had driven until it crapped out on me my junior year in college came into view. It was a cherry red, 1985 Ford Escort. I looked on the key ring my mom had handed me for the keyless entry, but had to laugh because, this was 1989, and there wasn't keyless entry.
Using the key to unlock the door, I turned it in the lock and opened the handle. Inside, the black leather seats shined. I smiled but all too soon it faded as I saw the manual transmission. I sat down in the driver's seat, tossing my purse and books into the passenger seat before shutting the door closed.
"I haven't driven a stick since I traded this in. Shit, how am I going to remember this?"
The words, said aloud, came out as a whine. I tried to remember exactly how driving a stick worked. Slowly, I pushed down the break and the clutch with each foot and turned the key into the ignition, bringing the car to life. I took a deep breath before removing my foot from the brake and placing it on top of the gas pedal.
With the gearshift in my hand, I wiggled the stick before successfully placing it in reverse. Ever so slowly, I raised the foot that was down on the clutch and pressed down lightly on the accelerator. Gently, the car began to roll backward and I had to give myself a mental high five for getting this far.
As I made my way on the street, I shifted the car into first and gave the car a little too much gas than I intended too. It gunned forward and on instinct I slammed both feet down on the clutch and gas. The car sputtered before it died.
I moved the gearshift from first, back to neutral before giving it another shot. Taking my time the car roared to life and before I knew it, I was coasting down my street with a wide smile on my face because I had successfully shifted it from first to second gear.
"Just like riding a bike," I said to myself.
I felt brave and reached over, as I continued to sail down the street, to turn the radio on. The same DJ that had been on the air when I had been getting ready talked on and on about different artists and songs. Before I knew it, I was singing along to what I considered classic tunes, only for them to have been in release for a few years.
The ride to school wasn't too long. We lived in a fairly populated residential neighborhood and the only high school in town was about a ten minute drive. I flipped the blinker as the entrance to the school came into my view.
I remembered the words of The Cure that woke me up. This really did feel like a dream, but I seriously doubted, going back to high school was going to be anything like Heaven.
A/N- ** long note ahead** So originally this chapter was, like, 8000 words long. I halved the chapter so now, chapter three- where yes, we'll meet Edward- is already in the que ready to post.
If you would all indulge me for one moment while I talk about a little something that I'm working on. April is Autism Awareness month and yours truly will be donating something very special for it. Originally I was going to do an outtake for my Carlisle/Bella story, You Are, The Only Exception, but after staring at the 200 or so words that I wrote, it was apparent to me that they only thing they've really been doing in the future is having a lot of sex. So as of right now, I'm placing that particular outtake on the backburner. I'll revisit it eventually, but at the present moment, something else (other than this retro story) has taken over my brain.
If you'd like to read the story that I'm submitting, please go to thefandomgivesback (.) blogspot (.) com and from there, they will tell you how you can donate to this cause. This piece that I'm submitting is the first chapter of the next story that I'm working on. For more information on it, check out my profile where I have a link to the banner that the awesome d_inspiration made for me. It is an Edward and Bella pairing and it is loosly based on a movie.
Also, for Lent, I gave up twitter. It's been a week. I miss it. But I'm coping. I can be found on there after Easter Hollister_1980 or for now, you can follow my tumblr where I post pic teases of upcoming chapters and maybe…just maybe I'll post a teaser or two for the first chapter of the story I'm submitting for the Autism compilation. (link in profile)
Until I post again on March 31st…(maybe on the 24th- since chapter 3 is ready to go), I can't wait to hear what ya'll thought about this chapter.
Xoxo
Holly
