Chapter One

Hello, Forks

The next few days, cinnamon Altoids and cinnamon gum became my best friends. I was trying to get into the habit of either sucking on a mint or chewing gum after every time I smoked. Mom kind of knew I did. She nearly caught me once, but she never brought it up to me. Phil knew, he was the one who bought them for me. I wasn't 18, yet.

He caught me a while back and was raising hell about it. He had never been a father to anyone before Renee. Then when he and her met, fell in love, he suddenly had two teenaged daughters. And he was doing the best he could. And I commended him for that.

But after I explained to him that I needed a coping mechanism, something to help alleviate the stress building up in my bones, muscles, and soul.. Well, he finally let up. He said there were worse things out there.

Bella had this.. ability.. to let things roll off of her shoulders. But I carried everything with me. Glares, whispers, and mutterings.. I kept it all inside of me. I wish I didn't, but really there was nothing for me to do about but to deal with it and laugh.

My mom thinks it was because I was born after Bella, that I was suffocating in her womb and that harmed my brain. But hey, no hard feelings. It's ABC not AOC. B goes before O.. No hard feelings. (Totally made it sound there liked I was mad at Bella for being born first, doesn't it? But I really adore and love Bella.)

The problems really showed up when my best friend killed himself. It had torn me into pieces, shredded my soul. He was only 15, yet he seemed so much older than he was.

Reese Fitzroy was my best friend. We were so much alike, we often joked that we were one soul split into two bodies. For a while, we thought we were in love. But then we realized, we loved each other, but we weren't in love with each other.

Sometimes he'd get sad. He'd sit there for hours or days and contemplate the future. He'd think of every life around him, every event, every place. He'd think of himself, his future, and his past. And sometimes, he'd think of me and how I would flourish. Everyone thought it was hot.. He was sensitive and deep, a real philosopher type..

They didn't think it was so hot when the cops had to cut his body down from the rafters he used to hang himself.

Survivor's guilt.

That's what the good Doctor said. That's what I had to deal with. With time, therapy, and medicine, I was, finally able to say good-bye. To let go of Reese, of that life I had once alongside him. But it still bothered me sometimes, of course. When I saw something funny, I wanted to turn to him and hear him laugh. When I was sad, I wanted to hear him say how everything would be okay. I was so used to having at my side. He was my best friend.

I found the body.

We were supposed to be going to the movies. Dracula, starring Bela Lugosi, was playing at the 99 cent theater. I loved anything supernatural and mythological, to be honest, we both did. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, ghouls, selkies, witches, satyrs.. You name it, and I know everything about it.

I went to see if Reese was ready yet. He was never late. So.. I was, admittedly, a little worried.

And I did find him..

He was just.. hanging there.

Eyes red as blood, skin pale as death, and cold as ice.. his flesh hard as stone. He was slightly swinging from the rope. His clothing packed on his bed and his belongings packed into boxes. He'd been planning his 'escape' for a while..

After that it was all just a blur. Flashing lights from the cop cars and ambulance, the endless streams of questions from all sorts of police officers and his parents. I don't remember much. I mumbled answers, staring at the floor, unmoving, unblinking, unfeeling.

I just couldn't understand what had happened.

Sometimes.. his face haunts me at night, while I sleep.. he just shows up. Like he's sitting right next to me, asking me how I am, what I'm doing in school. Like he's actually there. He holds my hand in his frozen hands, a smile on his sheet white face.

Then, when I wake up, he's gone. But a sweet scent is in the air.. A sweet scent that I now identified as him.

I never told anyone this. Well, once to Bella in passing.

I don't think she believed me.. and that scared me from telling her more about it.

We had arrived yesterday, all our luggage and boxes arriving before even we did as we packed and shipped that as soon as we told Renee and Phil the news of our leaving. We were incredibly tired and jetlagged. Trying to get to a new timing was a little harder than I thought..

And last night, well.. Reese was there.

I have a habit of kicking my blankets off of me at night, and shoving my pillows off, too. I talked in my sleep and sometimes wandered.

As I slept, I felt his cold hand wrap gently around mine. I remember waking up a little and he covered me back up, tsking me, and said, "You never change, Odie."

He was there. It was not a dream. Whether he was ghost or something else, he was not dead.. not totally, at least. He was there, with me.. beside me.

I sat on my bed, blankets bundled around me and stared at the window. Bella got our old room, and I took the attic. Charlie was trying to remodel it into something that resembled a bedroom. I liked it, I told him so.

My queen bed with a black, wrought iron bed frame, covered in old blankets and quilts, and my life in boxes surrounding me. My desk with my laptop, sketchbooks, and pencils littering the top. My wardrobe waiting to be filled, my acoustic guitar sat propped in its stand. Next to it was my electric, beat up, canary yellow guitar, also in its stand.

The yellow guitar was a gift from Phil, he said it used to belong to an old musician buddy of his. He didn't clarify which friend, but he said he was in a very popular band back in the 80s (my era!). He just said that it was the guitar he learned on and was happy to pass it down to someone who loved music as much as he did.

And no matter what I did, Phil couldn't tell me. Said it was part of the rules - I got the guitar, I didn't get to learn who gave it to me. I accepted it with a sigh, but swore I would be so great the grand musician would have to show himself to me. At this, Phil agreed.

Reese and I were in a band- a very unknown band, but a band nonetheless. We had a lot of fun while we were in it, as it was supposed to be. Reese usually played lead and I would play harmony.

While we had our complete list of silly songs, we had quite a few good ones.. In my humble opinion, at least. I thought we'd really get to go places. We did have talent, we had the heart, we just didn't have the funds or friends in high places.

I missed sitting in the garage on Saturdays and playing stupid songs with Reese (Metal versions of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Mary Had A Little Lamb..). I missed crooning into a the mic and shredding the notes as Reese screamed and banged around on the drums (Reese couldn't play the drums to save his life!). I missed playing so long and so loud that my fingers ached and I'd lose my voice.

My throat tightened and I swallowed hard, struggling against my tears. I missed Reese.. so much. He had left such a huge hole in my life.. a hole I could not fill with anything or anyone. No matter how hard I tried, the hole seemed to just grow.

Sometimes I thought I'd gotten better, but then I would lose it and have my bad days -sometimes weeks- where I didn't even want to shower or eat, I just didn't see the point of it.

I was driving myself crazy with these memories. I needed to breathe and chill and remind myself that things could be worse and that things will get better.

Things would get better.

I was in a new place, a place no one knew me.. at least apart from what my dad has told others about me. I had a chance to start fresh and meet new people and start new hobbies- okay, I wasn't going to start a new hobby. I had quite enough hobbies.

I really should unpack. I scowled, after school I was going to unpack.. Okay, I probably wasn't going to unpack.

I hopped out of bed, glancing to my light green alarm clock, seeing that it was only 6:30 am, I grinned. Enough time to gorge myself full of food and coffee.

I stumbled down the thin, plastic, collapsible stairs, I glared towards the evil steps.

"Hey, dad?" I shouted, walking through the hallway and down the stairs.

"Yeah, Otis?" he shouted back, and I found him in the kitchen.

"Is there anyway we can replace the attic stairs with like, better ones?" I asked, pouring myself a mug of coffee.

"I suppose so. Are you sure you're okay with the attic?" He pressed, leaning up. He wore his police uniform and was nursing his own mug of coffee. A plate of nothing but leftover egg yolk and breadcrumbs.

"Dad, I love the attic. Trust me, it's actually perfect for me," I chuckled, sitting down. "Except those stairs. We gotta do something about those stairs," I said scathingly.

Dad grinned and nodded, "All right, Odie."

I chuckled and sipped my coffee. It was delicious. I added four teaspoons of sugar and a scoosh of cream.

"What about.." he started but stopped.

"What about what?" I raised my brows, confused.

"The things.. in your face!" he gawked, unable to contain his shock anymore.

I laughed, "Dad.. I got this-" I pointed to the small silver stud in my right nostril, "-when I was 15. I got this-" I pointed to my monroe piercing, which was a small, black stud on the left side of my face, above my top lip, "-when I was 16."

I didn't have the heart to tell him for my 17th birthday, I got a belly button ring.

"It's just- people are gonna stare, kiddo," dad shifted around, frowning into his coffee.

"Everyone always stares.. 'cause I'm sexy!" I shouted, grinning wildly.

Dad choked on his coffee, spilling some of it on the front of his shirt, "Dammit.." he grumbled, trying to clean it up with his towel.

I snorted, chuckling, "Sorry. What I meant was.. I'll be fine. I'm good at covering my own ass."

"Just don't get into any fights, please..?" He begged softly.

"I'll try not to," I grinned, sipping my coffee.

"Forks is a whole new place. It'll be a good new start for you," he said, his voice hinting at some of my old wounds.

"I know that," I smiled softly.

Bella stepped into the kitchen, looking around, a little confused, "Oh, hey."

"Mornin', sleepy head," I smiled.

"Hi, Bells," Dad smiled.

"I can't believe you're up before me," she sat down, glancing at my coffee. Bell wasn't much of a coffee drinker.

"I know.. Hell's frozen over!" I gasped, then grinned. "Are you ready for school?"

"Ugh.. not really," Bella sighed.

"Whoa, speakin' of school-" Charlie shook his wrist, his sleeve of his shirt sliding just enough so he could see his watch, "You two should get dressed and get going. School starts at 8 o'clock sharp."

I looked to the clock on the oven, it was almost seven, "All right.. I need clothing. Bella did you want to take a shower first?"

"No, you go ahead. I'm gonna eat," she smiled and began pouring herself some cereal.

"Okie-dokie," I smiled and hopped up.

I went about showering, making up my face, adding a little eyeliner, and a bit of mascara. My hair fell to my waist in waves and loose curls, it was almost black. I had my mom's blue eyes, crystal blue and haunting (that's how Reese described them anyway..(cheesy, I know!)). I had a heart shaped face and a flatter chin than Bella. My nose was a little sharper, fuller lips, and I had dimples.

Bella and I were twins, sure. But we weren't identical, not completely anyway. She was a bit taller than me, whereas I was curvier. My eyes were bigger, and my brows would grow wild if I didn't keep them in check.

Bella was my best friend, but sometimes we were so different it would hinder us and we'd wind up arguing. Usually about stupid things, too. What cars were better, the color of something.. It's blue-green! No, it's green-blue!

She was a genius, math and science were simple to her. My brain computed literature, music, and art. Math was a foreign language to me. I liked science, but I was teerrrrrible at it.

I sighed, checking myself once over again in the body mirror in my attic. I wore my black acid wash skinny jeans tucked into a pair of brown, worn, slouchy, moto boots. I wore a long sleeved black and white horizontally striped shirt. I shrugged into my brown bomber jacket with a hood.

I had my bangs and top layer of my hair pulled back in a ponytail and I sighed.

I, unfortunately, was ready for school.