MPOV

MPOV

I walked around my room, picking whatever random crap was lying on my floor and tossing it into the giant suitcase on my bed. My clothes hardly took up half the space in the monstrosity, so I had plenty of room to spare.

At least my room will be clean while I'm away.

Not paying attention to what I was doing, I picked up a candy bar wrapper and chucked it at my suitcase. It ended up going behind the bed. Huh, I thought. Maybe there'll be mold on it when I come visit. That would be…um…scientific.

Yeah. Scientific.

I glanced at the digital clock sitting on my dresser.

"1:55 already?" I muttered to myself. "Damn." I grabbed a big handful of God-knows-what off my dresser and dropped it all into my suitcase. Maybe it would have some sentimental value in college.

Nah.

I zipped up the suitcase and started out of my room.

The moment I reached the bottom of the stairs I was locked in the iron grip of none other than my mother. She squeezed me mercilessly, sobbing onto my shoulder, blubbering things about "her baby" and "can't believe you're really going" and "call me as soon as your flight lands." The rest of what she said was lost in her motherly hysterics.

"Mom?" I tried. "Mom?" I said with more force, but she still couldn't hear me. I always spoke quietly, but I don't think that was the case right now. "Jenna!" DAMN could this woman cry! "Dad?" I gasped, as her hold on me had tightened uncomfortably. He knew what I meant. Slowly, he made his way from across the room towards the sobbing mess that was my mother. He cautiously grabbed my mother's arms and pried them from my waist. At first she resisted, but then gave up. She freed me from her relentless grip and locked her arms around my father, still crying. Poor guy.

Just then, a horn honked.

"That's Edward," I mumbled. "See you guys. Love you, mom. See ya later, dad." My dad responded with a nod and a smile, while my mother burst into another sob-fest. I smiled apologetically toward my father and grabbed my suitcase. I opened the door to see the sun; an incredibly rare and highly desired sensation here in Forks. I was nearly blinded by the light reflecting off my best friend's car.

Stupid, shiny Volvo owners.

JPOV (Same time as MPOV)

I looked around my room.

I'd always thought that when I was leaving for college I would miss this place.

Like hell.

The tiny house barely fit my room, which barely fit my bed, which barely fit me. No, screw that; it doesn't fit me…I sleep diagonally across it and my head and feet still hang off the ends. (Well that might not be saying THAT much considering my debatably massive height of six-seven, but still! It would be nice to be able to sleep comfortably for one night without having to curl myself into a little ball.) And I can't even stand in my closet…hell, half of me can't squeeze into the nonexistent space that I call my closet. Even my suitcase is mini; it hardly holds the clothes I'm bringing, and I pack light!

All in all, there really isn't anything to miss.

I sighed and grabbed my suitcase. I forced the top down and tried to zip it. After multiple tries, (don't ask me for numbers; I've never been good at math,) it finally gave in. It looked totally overstuffed, like it might explode at any second. I lifted it with ease and brought it out into the living room.

My dad was there, sitting in his wheelchair, talking on the phone about fishing. Harry's on the phone, no doubt, I thought, collapsing onto the only couch in the already cramped space. Billy muttered something into the phone and hung up.

"My boyyy!" he drawled gruffly in his low, gravelly voice. He wheeled his way over to where I sat and patted my shoulder. "College! My last one! So proud of you, son!"

"Thanks, dad," I mumbled. I just want to get out of the hellhole that is Forks…more specifically, my house. Both are small and cramped and boring. There are no good-looking girls in Forks! And I live right by the beach! Then again, why would anyone bother coming to the beach at La Push when the chances of getting a sunny day are roughly a gazillion to one? All the girls I've dated, (and there have been many,) have either a) been visiting someone in Forks, b) lived outside of Forks and I met them on the rare occasion that I got out of here temporarily, or c) had gotten lost and stumbled by mistake into my rainy little hometown. But no matter the situation, they were never permanent residents of Forks. Never.

Also, my older sisters, Rachel and Rebecca, have both been gone for three years. Rachel went on scholarship to Washington State University, and Rebecca ran off with some surfer. I think they went to Hawaii. This meant that Billy only had me to talk to when his old-people friends weren't available.

Of course I'll miss Billy. And Embry and Quil…maybe even Paul and Sam. After all, these guys are my friends, more or less.

But nothing – NOTHING – can keep me from catching the next flight to New York. There is no force on this planet that can keep me in Forks for any longer than absolutely necessary.

A horn honked.

"See ya, Billy," I called to my dad as I headed for the front door.

"I'll see you on Thanksgiving!" I though I heard him yell back, but I can't be certain, as I was already out the door.

There's Edward, I thought. Richie-rich Edward with his shiny Volvo. Grinning, I opened the door of the car and jumped in the back. I would have sat in the front, but my other best friend, Mike, was already sitting shotgun.

"Jacob!" Mike yelled. Wow. He must be really psyched, I thought. Mike never yells. He twisted around in his seat and held out his hand for a high-five. I slapped it.

"To college!" I bellowed, my grin widening.

"To college!" my best friends echoed, and the car started moving.

BPOV

"Yes, mom, I have that too," I sighed into the phone.

"And you've got plenty of underwear?" my mom asked anxiously.

"Good God, mom! I'm not a child anymore! I've lived with dad in New York for two years now…I think I know how to fend for myself!"

"Yes, yes, I know," my mom muttered, her tone conveying surrender.

"Thank you. I love you, mom," I said, about to hang up.

"Wait! Don't go yet Bells!"

Another sigh. "Yes, mom?"

She took a deep breath. "Bella, don't do anything crazy," she began. "I don't want to even think about almost losing you again. Remember when you fell out the window of that hotel? Lord, you gave me a scare. Be responsible-"

"Mom-" I tried to interrupt. She ignored me.

"No drinking-"

"Mom-"

"Drugs-"

"Mom-"

"Unprotected sex-"

"RENEE!" I barked.

"What?" she retorted, annoyed that I'd interrupted the one "talk" she'd ever given me.

"You know me better than that!" I snapped, honestly taken aback. I should be giving her this lecture! Renee was slightly impulsive – okay, really impulsive – and just did what she wanted to when she wanted to do it. Like marrying my dad…look how great that turned out.

She sighed. "I know, Bella, I just…college…and…I just…" she trailed off, and I could tell she was holding back tears.

"Oh, mom. I love you." I'd never been great at comforting people. Actually, I'd never been very good at anything involving any sort of emotion.

"Love you too, Bells," she choked out.

"You have fun with Phil, mom. Say hi to Florida for me. I gotta go, I'll call you when I have my stuff in my dorm and everything, 'kay?"

"Call me as soon as you get there," she insisted.

"Mom-" I began to whine.

"Bella," she warned in a shockingly motherly tone.

"Fine. I'll call you when I get there. Bye."

"Bye." Click.

"Bella, you ready?" my dad called from somewhere on the first floor.

"Coming!" I yelled back, grabbing my suitcases. I stumbled to the top of the stairs and started down them, too fast –

– I tripped halfway down. Charlie caught me, but my suitcases tumbled to the floor. I cringed at the thought that that could've been me. Then again, I've had worse.

"Sorry, dad," I gasped, breathless.

"'S okay, Bells," he chuckled.

"I'm ready." I broke free of his grasp and grabbed my suitcases.

"Let's go." He put his arm behind me, fingers almost – but not quite – touching my back. he directed me toward the front door and led me out to the car.