Okay… since you readers don't seem to like Sequoia in the story, I'll change it back to Bella

Okay… since you readers don't seem to like Sequoia in the story, I'll change it back to Bella. The personality will still be like this, since I don't want her to be the same as the story Bella will still have some of the same personality, like her danger-magnet self… a few others that I can't remember.

On a better subject… since everyone knows that Edward will be in this story, I just wanted to mention this: I picture him for this as Robert Pattinson (plays Edward in movie… so how he looks in the movie). There is a link on my profile for the best picture of him (my opinion of course)… tell me what you think!!

sigh read and review.

Disclaim thing: I only own Annabelle, Ian, and Tom... Stephenie Meyer owns everything else… that was pretty obvious.

All the while- Chapter II

I flopped my blocky black suitcase onto the deep blue bed sheets that covered the twin-sized bed. He obviously talked to Mom. I sighed, scratching the base of my neck, my other hand on my hip. I drew back the shiny silver zipper and flipped the top over which bounced on the pillow at the head of the bed. I walked over to the white dresser and pulled open the middle drawer. As I put my tops into the gaping hole (yes… I always try to use creative words), I heard Dad talking to someone on the phone.

"Maybe she would… is Jacob willing to see her? ... Tomorrow sounds great." Dad sighed into the phone momentarily and said "She hasn't really spoken to me since she's got here… Annabelle said just to give her some space. She's so different now…" he trailed off, his disbelieving voice becoming a low hum as he mush have walked to another part of the house.

I felt myself frown, as I shoved the middle drawer back in, catching my left ring finger in between the wood. "SHIT!" I hissed, yanking my finger out and curling my toes. I quickly glanced at it before putting it in my mouth… who knows why, that's just what I did. I waited a minute before uncurling my toes and looking at my finger again. "Oh, fiddle sticks," I muttered seeing the skin under the nail already a slight purple color. I sighed and pulled out the top. I always found a way to accidentally cause myself pain. As you can probably tell, even closing a drawer is a danger to my health. I filled the drawer with underwear, bras, and socks… just throwing them in, not caring about how it looked. I don't expect Dad to go through my drawers; searching for bras… he doesn't need them. I snickered at the thought of my dad going through his 16-year-old daughter's bras, holding them up to himself in search for the best one for him…

"What's so funny?" my dad asked as he leaned up against the door frame, a smirk on his face and his arms crossed across his chest. His legs were crossed at the ankle

I waved his question off like nothing. "Nothing special, but one thing I wish to suggest…" he looked at me questioningly. "Don't start wearing bras…"

Instantly, his bellowing laugh filled the room and making me smile. He leaned forward, his hands on his knees as he shook with his joyful laughter. "Oh wow!" he heaved, brushing a tear from his cheek (he was laughing that hard) and stood up straight. He cleared his throat and made his voice deeper for manly effect, "Don't worry Bella, I will not start wearing bras."

I felt myself let out a light laugh as he sat at the desk chair. "So I have a friend who lives in La Push,"

"La where?" I asked, knowing that this was the friend he was talking to.

Dad fiddled with the green pen that was sitting next to my notebook in the desk. "La Push. It's… I can't explain where it is. You know I was never good at directions." I smiled in agreement. Once, when I was a little girl, Mom and Dad planned to take me to Buffalo, New York to see relatives. Well, Dad was driving and insisted that Mom and I slept, claiming that he had "a flawless sense of direction" and "all the coffee I need so I won't miss a turn". When Mom and I woke up, we were in Maryland. "But Billy has a son, who just turned sixteen, named Jacob. Since I have to go down there next Sunday, I was wondering if you would like to come and meet him."

I smiled again, but this time, it was natural. "Definitely. I need someone to be my friend." I shrugged and Dad smiled back, until an uncomfortable silence fell over us.

"Well, I'll let you be. I'll see you in the morning, Bells. 'Night," he kissed my forehead and closed the door softly behind him. I stared at the door for a minute, before falling back on my bed. There was a… feeling that I couldn't place, a certain place in the pit of my stomach. I was… nervous. I hadn't been nervous in a long time, but now, I didn't know what was to come tomorrow. Or even when school started. I didn't know what the kids were like here. I barely even knew what Dad was like anymore. School started on Monday, two days full days from now. I had two days to fit in… who am I kidding? I never fit in. I'm Isabella Swan, God darn it! I'm my own person, and moving to Forks and Knives will not change that. Tomorrow, I will ask Dad to show me around town, since it will be Saturday. And on Sunday, I will just get ready for school. Even though I'm sixteen, I'm a junior. I skipped kinder garden, Mom and Dad were contacted by the principal in kinder garden and told them that I was "too advanced to be in this class". I'm not complaining. It's just that I've always been the young smart nerd girl. As long as I get a good education, that's all that I'm focusing on… aside from the school work itself, of course.

I spent the rest of the night unpacking the other things I had brought: books, notebooks, pictures, and toiletries. I set aside the bag of school supplies I had kept from last year to use again. I'm not spending fifty dollars on binders and paper and pencils when I can just reuse things! As I was unpacking, I found a picture from 8th grade my best friend Anna and I. We were pretending to be like the other girls in our grade, so we had dark eye make up, and bathing suit tops on with the short shorts. The memory of us laughing at all the stupid pathetic girls made me laugh to myself. I pinned that picture, along with my others, on the corkboard above my bed.

"I have to sleep," I mumbled to myself. Yes, I have a tendency to talk to myself. Whether I'm in public or not, I will talk to myself. Possibly even sing, but I won't realize it until someone points it out! Talk about embarrassing… I flopped down on my bed and let myself drift slowly off to darkness, filled with the lingering memories of home. New Jersey home.

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Review… and the chapter get longer… I have over 70 hits, but only one review… yeah.