A/N
Disclaimer – Stephenie Meyer owns all that is Twilight. I own the pair of broken down Ascics I used to pound out this chapter in my head.
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My eyes flew open, startled awake from the jarring impact of tires making contact with cement as the plane touched down. I leaned my head back in the seat and rubbed my eyes, although I had slept, my rest had been dreamless and unsatisfying. Begrudgingly, I stood up from my seat and waited for my turn so that I could grab my duffle and make exit off of the plane. I really didn't enjoy flying; the only times I've flown were for the court prescribed visits to see my father, so there were never any fond memories to attach. The fact that I was stone cold sober and sporting a pretty decent dehydration induced headache wasn't helping either. I slowly made my way off the plane and on to the jet way, keeping my eyes down and not looking at the flight attendants as I shuffled past ,catching my toe and stumbling midway down the aisle. The mildew-y smell of the greater northwest assaulted my senses as I made my way into the airport. I hated it already.
I could see Charlie nervously fidgeting in the crowd of people surrounding the baggage carousel as I made my way down the escalator. His appearance really hadn't changed much over the years…maybe a little more gray peppered in his dark brown hair, forehead a little longer, a few more creases around his eyes – which became even more creased from his smile as he spotted me stepping off the escalator. He still sported the same stereotypical cop 'stash that he had since as far back as I could remember.
"Hey Bells, how was your flight?" Charlie raised his arms to give me a hug, which I eyed suspiciously. This obviously made him uncertain, as he dropped his arms, fidgeted some more, and then decided on a one armed hug, a mix between squeezing and patting my right shoulder. Awkward. We had never done the father-daughter thing very well.
"I made it here, didn't I?" my tone was a little gruff, and I was surprised by the twinge of guilt that I felt for that. I really needed to do something about this headache. I was relieved when I spotted my suitcase, grateful for the opportunity to create some space between Charlie and me as I dashed off to grab it.
"Where are you parked?" I asked, really not looking forward to the next four plus hours we would be spending in Charlie's police cruiser on the drive from Seattle to Forks. I could've taken a connection directly into the tiny Forks airport, or into the slightly larger Port Angeles, but there was no fucking way you were getting me on one of those puddle-jumpers. "On level four of the parking garage. Here, let me grab that" he reached out and took the suitcase from me. The rest of our walk to the cruiser was silent, and I could easily feel the tension between us. My stomach twisted uneasily as Charlie loaded my suitcase and duffle bag into the trunk. Even though Charlie was not known to be very verbose, four hours gave him a lot of opportunity to rip into me on getting expelled from high school back in Phoenix and I knew he was pissed. Maybe I would get lucky; Charlie typically took the 'Ignorance is Bliss' approach to myself and Renee. Unsure of how much Renee had actually told him, I could feel a thin sheen of nervous sweat building on my forehead, aided in part by the stifling humidity. I really wasn't sure how this trip to his house in Forks was going to go.
"OK, Bells, we need to talk" I continued to look out the window, my mouth twisted into a slight grimace. I really was not ready to do this. I carefully constructed my armor.
"Really, Charlie? You want to do this now? Play father-daughter?" Charlie winced from my verbal slap, but didn't say anymore. I turned my head to stare out the window again; the view a blur of green and brown of trees merging onto a solid mass as the cruiser passed. It looked like I had one this battle, but I didn't feel any victory.
We quietly ignored each other for the rest of the trip. I pretended to be all consumed with my iPhone, but I noticed every time Charlie glanced over at me, and every time he opened and then shut his mouth, obviously undecided on what to say.
Charlie pulled the cruiser up in front of the simple A-frame where I had spent my earliest years and a few weeks every summer after that. He looked over towards me, I think sensing his last opportunity to talk to me as a captive audience, and cleared his throat. "Look Bella, I'll admit I haven't been the most attentive father, but I can't ignore this or pretend like nothing has happened. You got yourself expelled from school for Christ's sake! You're a smart kid…I didn't think that you were the kind of kid to get herself kicked out of school." My cheeks burned in discomfort. "I really don't know what kind of kid I am" I barely whispered, looking down at my hands.
"I have to admit, as disappointed as I am about what happened in Phoenix, I am glad that you are here, Bells. But there are going to be rules that I expect you to follow. You have to go to school. No drinking. No drugs. And no boys." I rolled my eyes at his last stipulation. "You don't have to worry about that, Charlie. Are we done here? I really like to get my shit inside so that I can hit the sack…I'm exhausted." Charlie hesitated, then nodded gruffly, getting out of the cruiser and walking towards the trunk to retrieve my suitcase. I followed suit, grabbing my duffle bag out of the trunk and following Charlie up the stairs to the front door. Charlie unlocked the door and walked into the house, but I hesitated, my legs seemingly unwilling to move. I took a deep breath, and stepped into a childhood memory.
"Look daddy, I drew a picture of you fishing with Uncle Billy" I beamed, waving a piece of paper in my chubby 7 year old fingers with two crudely drawn stick figures standing in a bright red rowboat, each figure holding what resembled a fish. "That's great Bella, you are a regular Picasso!" Charlie had grinned at me, taking the picture over to the fridge and sticking it under a magnet so that it could join the others.
I snapped back to reality at the sound of Charlie clearing his throat. I looked over to where he stood in the kitchen, next to a fridge that was bare of any decoration. I couldn't help but wonder when and how everything had seemed to go so wrong.
I flopped down on the bed where I have slept ever summer, not even havening the energy to change out of my clothes or unpack. I picked up my pillow and buried my head under it, trying to block out all the noise in my head and willing myself to sleep so that I could dream about my boy, the dream that has eluded my since my last night in Phoenix. I wished that I had something to drink, or something that I could take to numb my brain. I flipped over on to my back in frustration. I was exhausted, but at the same time I couldn't get my head to stop buzzing so that I could fall asleep. I tried to force my muscles to stretch and relax, tried thinking of a blank page, but nothing was working. I felt edgy, my legs twitching and restless like when you force yourself to stay awake way too long. But I wasn't forcing myself, in fact I wanted nothing more than the opposite. After trying to lie still for some time, I growled in frustration and rolled my self out of bed, stumbling on the carpet as I made my way out into the hallway and into the sole bathroom that I would now be sharing with Charlie. The thought of that made my scowl increase even more. I scoured the shelves of the medicine cabinet, intent on finding something that I could put to good use. My eyes settled on a bottle of NyQuil. That'll do, I thought. I twisted off the cap and took a couple of long pulls from the bottle. I went to put the cap back on, shrugged instead and took another pull for good measure. I placed the NyQuil back into the medicine cabinet, moving other bottles in front of so that Charlie wouldn't notice that about half the bottle was now gone. I went back to my room and laid down on the bed and closed my eyes, waiting for my medicine to kick in.