BPOV

Nothing at this point could help the annoyance I was feeling. Well, annoyance was a total understatement. I was fucking pissed!

My mother is like a tube – anything that goes in one ear flies out the other! And damn did I ever feel pissed when she didn't understand the simplest things in life. Sometimes I wondered how we were even related. I mean, wasn't she ever a teenager? Didn't she ever break rules? Didn't she ever party hard, get in trouble with her parents or the cops? Oh, God, did she even ever live?

Well, some teenagers just weren't nuns and even though she had enough cause to understand that, she didn't. She grounded me and took my things away until I had nothing left.

I looked out the plane window, gazing at the distant land beneath us, I mentally cursed my mother. That bitch! How could she do this to me!? Even if she did have that upper advantage over me, a sixteen year old girl? My mother thought I had "issues" and I needed to "cleanse my life to get a better experience before college". Fucking dumb words! I hated Forks with a passion and I wasn't about to not let that be recognized. All of Forks – all twenty feet of the damn land named after a utensil – would know in seconds that I despised Forks and its dreary weather. I wanted Phoenix. Not some dumb...Fuck, I was at a loss of damn words!

My anger was boiling and I felt like hitting something. I wasn't quite sure what...but I knew something had it coming, and coming hard. Maybe I should start taking in my surroundings carefully in case I did lash out.

I hadn't seen my dad in about four years – four fucking years! And now I would be spending two years with the guy. How lovely. I'm simply boiling with excitement...! Well, he would be one of the many to realize what a dumb and pointless place Forks actually is. Actually, he would be granted the first person to get a round.

That much I could offer.

Finally, the plane landing in Port Angeles after the connecting to Seattle, and I knew trouble was to come when I almost punched the fucking woman in front of me. That's when I knew nothing would get easier. So I pushed past all the little tourists and clueless people, when a semi-familiar voice called out.

"Bella?" I knew, after a paused second, it was my father.

"Hey, Dad," I sighed. As I saw the familiar stance that he was about to hug me, I inconspicuously ducked and headed over to collect my luggage. I didn't want to hurt his feelings or anything, but because he was the one helping imprison me in this...place, I didn't want any icing on the cookie.

We headed out into the cool breeze without further delay, dodging the mounting tourists eagerly heading for the door. Charlie popped the trunk and I loaded in my bags, suitcases and guitar case. Playing would probably be the only thing to keep my semi-sane. It only sucked that I couldn't haul the grand piano sitting in the living room in Jacksonville, Florida.

I had the kind of life that you always read about in story books, but were never actually true. A girl living life against her parents' wishes and partying every hour of the day and night, drinking and smoking and never getting caught. Well, most of the time – it only happened once, though.

Charlie led us out of the parking lot in the police cruiser – and with my better judgement, I didn't make a snide comment about the poor transportation – dodging the tourists trying to manoeuvre across the street. There was an awkward silence in the car, and I knew words could not express what we were both feeling. As my father cleared his throat I knew we would have to get into some deep discussion that would end in some kind of fight.

"Bella, I talked to your mom," Charlie began as we started out of Port Angeles. I sighed and looked at his profile levelly. "And I think you need to know that your behaviour in Jacksonville won't be the same in Forks. Your going to have strict rules—"

"I had strict rules in Florida, too, I just didn't follow them," I pointed out. And it was true – curfew was eleven, and yet I always rolled in at about two a.m. My mom had been so strict about and firm about the rules, but a year ago, she totally gave up. I was free. Totally free of any rules or boundaries.

He frowned. "But that's not going to happen, Bella. You are going to go by the eleven o'clock curfew," he told me sternly, casting me a quick look full of authority. I could have been scared by him, worried of what would happen to me if I disobeyed him, but he didn't look like much of a firm person. Charlie lacked that I-know-what-I'm-doing-and-you-should-be-scared-of-me air around him.

"Yeah, well, I think I have some say in this, and I'm not going to be following any fucking rules," I said sternly.

"Don't you swear at me!" Charlie yelled, lifting his hand like he was going to slap me. I didn't recoil because I knew he didn't have the guts. And sure enough, he lowered his hand with a sigh. "Look, Bella, your out of control behaviour is not going to fly with me. You need to learn respect for other people, as well as yourself."

I sighed and frowned, ignoring the rest of his attempts to make small conversation. For now, I just wanted to be alone. Alone in the quiet. Charlie drove on, trying to comment about the weather, my schooling or Forks, but I didn't return the interest. I just stared out the window blankly, barely noticing all the green passing. When I noticed thousands of trees surrounding us and too much green in every direction, I knew immediately we were in Forks. I sighed as we drove through town.

Well, I guess we just drove down a single street, which was the main part of town. I sighed again, immensely hating my mother and father. It was their fault I was being subjected to something no one should ever be put through. And I don't just mean having to move all the way across the United States, but for the reason and the place.

I'd known for years and years that Forks was the dreariest place in the US and it would be my ultimate death if I ever had to live there. And here I am – being put through it all without a chance in hell for myself.

As we pulled down the faintly familiar street, Charlie started again. "We have some company," my dad told me. "Dr. Carlisle Cullen and his sons, Emmett and Edward, are here to fix the cruiser. Poor baby isn't working the way she should." He pat the console of the car softly, frowning. I just rolled my eyes. Great, now I would need to socialize with a bunch of small town hicks.

Charlie's house began to come into view and once I evaluated it – and all its small, confined space and dull siding – I noticed the three people standing on the drive. They were all male and incredibly gorgeous. It was hard to pick out the father or whatever he was, from the three because of how young they all looked.

As Charlie pulled into the driveway, one of the men, obviously the father, waved to him. I rolled my eyes as Charlie exited the car and started greeting them all. I sighed in annoyance as I followed, but skipped out on introductions. They started talking and laughing all together as I was forced to carry all my bags inside.

"Dad, pop the trunk!" I called, not caring if I interrupted anyone, as I stood near the rear. I just wanted to get inside as fast and painlessly as possible. I could just see over the car and noticed quickly one of the sons, and, damn, he was hot. He had gorgeous dishevelled golden hair and the most striking green eyes I'd ever seen. And he was looking at me, probably with the same amount of curiosity I was having.

I looked down quickly, blushing madly as the trunk clicked and opened to ajar. Sighing as I hooked the bag handles over my arms, I slammed the trunk closed and struggled to carry my guitar in my full arms.

As I was making my way to the front door, Charlie stopped me.

"Bella, I'd like you to meet part of the Cullen family from next door," Charlie said, and I reluctantly turned around to look at them. Fuck, did I ever feel a lot of jealousy for to their looks. "This is Carlisle," he gestured to man that had waved previously," Emmett," he gestured to the huge, bulky guy," and Edward." So the hottie's name is Edward Cullen, I thought ponderingly, glancing at them all.

I sighed, feeling oddly drained. "Hey," I said bluntly, turning around and heading into the house.

My room was still the same from when I stayed here last – about five years ago. It was small, dark and still had the rocking chair in the corner that had been present for years. I frowned slightly as I dumped all my things on my bed and slipped open the guitar case. Besides holding the beautiful acoustic, it also contained two packs of cigarettes. Glancing out my window, I recalled that I overlooked the front of the house. Shit. I couldn't light up with my father just outside the window with a group of neighbours.

I paced around the small room, chewing on my nail and bumping my leg repeatedly on the small bed. I was in desperate need of a good smoke after that long plane ride and I had no way of getting one. Certainly I had enough mind not to light up in the house, but it was looking quite tempting actually.

When I realized that Charlie and his little friends were going to be too long and I was too lazy to go all the way downstairs, I unpacked all my stuff from the bags and suitcases. I stuffed all my clothes in the dresser and hung some in the compact closet, then stuffed the bags under my bed. There wasn't much else to do because there actually wasn't much here. So I exhaled and crashed down on my bed, looking up at the blank ceiling.

Tomorrow would be my first day of school. The first day at Forks High School. Yeah, at a shithole! I thought, laughing to myself.

But I shut up quickly. Fuck, Forks is already making me crazy.

I'm already fucking talking to myself!