A/N
S. Meyer owns all the Twilight stuff. I'm just having fun playing in her pool! Also, any places mentioned in this story are nothing more than figments of my imagination. Similar places may exist, but I made all this up. Special thanks to my beta, Robzbeanie, for catching my mistakes.
The Ranch
Chapter 2
Green. Miles and miles of it. I guess, being in Canada, I should have said kilometres and kilometres of it. If I was being honest with myself I would have admitted that the scenery was breathtaking – winding mountain roads, deep green forests, snow capped mountain tops – but I wasn't. The only thing I was feeling was pissed off. Backed into a corner, and pissed off.
I had 18 hours to think about how pissed off I was. The bus ride from Seattle to the ranch was a solid 18 hours aboard a rickety old bus that smelt like urinal cake and old women's perfume. Every couple of hours or so, we'd stop at a gas station to fuel up and dump off or pick up new passengers. I'd get out and stretch and have a smoke or two. I had never eaten more burgers and fries in my life. My stomach felt like a ball of lead and my knees were aching from being jammed between my seat and the one in front of me. An old man sat in the seat behind me for a good nine hours and snored like a trombone. The smell of diesel fuel burning spread throughout the bus and gave me a headache. I couldn't wait to get there, yet at the same time, I was dreading my arrival. Although I had pamphlets, and pages and pages of information on the Ranch to shift through, I really didn't know what to expect. Carlisle told me that this would build character, but I didn't care. I already was quite a character.
In my last week at home, I barely saw or spoke to Carlisle or Esme. I spent most of it at Mike's place with the guys – it was our typical hangout, and home base for most of the crap we got into. After Mike's parents struck it rich when their sporting goods store was snatched up and turned into a chain, they enjoyed living the high life. Part of that was ensuring their kid had the best of the best – brand new car, swanky apartment, vacations all over the place. You name it, Mike had it. His parents never hesitated to throw cash at whatever mess Mike got caught up in – anything to make it disappear. When Mike was charged with a DUI after wrapping his new Escalade around a lamppost, the charges miraculously disappeared after an afternoon of reading to seniors at the retirement home. Me? I didn't get away with my bad deeds so easily.
Carlisle and Esme were good to me. I often felt like they were too good. I came to live with them when I was eleven years old. I didn't want to, but that wasn't their fault. As a kid, I'd often test their limits and boundaries – see how far I could push before I'd get a reaction. It started small – pushing back my bedtime, twisting their words, asking the other one for permission even though the first already said no. Problem was - I never really grew out of it. Hence the 18-hour ride on the potty bus up to Camp Nowhere. I piled on that straw that broke the camel's back, added insult to injury – whatever the little clichéd saying Carlisle was always using, I did it. I pushed and pushed, and always wondered what it would take for them to send me packing. Esme sent me texts all week begging me to come home for dinner, to come spend some time with them before I left, to play some cards like we used to. The way I saw it, they wanted me out of their way, so why should I? My freedom was coming to an abrupt halt, and I needed to make the most of it.
I spent the bulk of my week wasting time drinking and smoking at Mike's, playing Call of Duty by day, entertaining the ladies by night. The lifestyle Mike led kept a steady stream of girls flowing in and out of his apartment. None of them ever held my attention for long, but to be fair, nothing did. I messed around, commitment free, and the girls were just as happy with that arrangement as I was. Jessica Stanley was the only one of the bunch who'd come around looking for more. She called me crying the night before I left, telling me that she'd miss me and that she'd wait for me – whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. Jessica, while nice to look at, didn't have a lot going on upstairs. I was decent to her, unlike some of the guys in our group, but I didn't see her the way she saw me. You ask a girl to prom, and suddenly she thinks you're engaged or some shit.
I graduated from high school three months ago, in June. I had picked up college applications, and with my grades I would have been accepted. I always did fairly well without having to try too hard. I could have gotten in, but I didn't. Forgetting to send in your application before the deadline will do that. So instead, I cleaned part time at the hospital Carlisle worked at. It gave me some cash to blow, and the work was pretty slack. Well, for me it was. Flirting a little with Ms. Mallory, the janitorial supervisor, got me out of any trouble I caught for doing a half-assed job. Carlisle and Esme never hesitated to tell me how disappointed they were that I wasn't "utilizing my potential." They were constantly nagging at me that "idle hands were the devil's playground" – again with the clichés. I never gave it much thought. I was young, and having a good time was all that really mattered. I didn't see what the big hurry to grow up was all about.
I shouldn't have been surprised when the local chief of police showed up on our doorstep, sat Esme and Carlisle down, and discussed my recent endeavours. Public Intoxication. Open liquor in a public place. Possession of a fake I.D. There were more, but those were the basics. Nothing too terrible, as far as I was concerned. Apparently my parents had different ideas. They told me how worried they were, and how they didn't want me spending any more time with the friends I had. Carlisle yelled and Esme cried. It wasn't the first time this happened, and I didn't expect it to be the last. But this time, when Carlisle said he was serious, he obviously meant it. A week after that very meeting, I was agreeing to board a bus to the North Pole and basically signing my life away.
The farther north we went, the sparser the scenery. Scattered farms and trees lined the highways for increasingly long stretches between towns. I noticed the chill in the air getting cooler with every smoke break I took. According to my watch, my trip was coming to a close. The next stop would be the Swan Crossing gas station and bus depot. A handwritten note stapled to the front of my welcome package said, "You'll be catching a ride to the Ranch with Emmett. He will be the biggest guy there. You can't miss him." This irritated me to no end. How the hell did they know who would be there waiting? Did they mean fat or tall? The last thing I needed was to be stranded at some Bates Motel type gas station in a backwoods Podunk town with no more than $8.00 in my ass pocket.
I felt my ears pop as we descended into a deep valley. The bus driver announced on the intercom that we would be arriving at the station in a few moments and to pack up all of our belongings.
I grabbed my bag from the overhead cabin and stepped off the bus inside the station. I took a look around, hoping to figure out who the hell this "big guy" was without too much difficulty or embarrassment. The only people seated inside where a few younger teens, an elderly woman asleep in her chair, and a younger lady with two screaming twins in a side-by-side stroller. Definitely no "big guy." I pulled my pack of smokes from my pocket and figured I'd step out for one. I had no choice but to hurry up and wait.
I plucked a cigarette from my pack and stuck it between my lips as I pushed open the heavy metal door leading out of the bus terminal. Suddenly, the heavy door that I was pushing gave away from me, and I damn near tripped out of the building.
"What the hell!" I yelled, once I gained my balance back.
"You Edward?" a deep voice said, as I looked up into the chest of one of the biggest men I've ever seen up close. I'd obviously found Emmett. I was pretty tall – just over 6' – but this guy was huge. The stern expression on his face showed me he wasn't about to tolerate any crap, either.
"Yeah," I said, clearly annoyed. "How'd you know?"
"I know your type," he chuckled while he plucked the unlit cigarette from my lips with his giant fingers and threw it over his shoulder. "Now let's get out of here, Eddie. I'm missing dinner."
He snatched my bag from my shoulder and with very little effort tossed it into the back of a shiny, black jacked-up pickup truck. He climbed up into the driver's side of the truck with ease.
I don't know what exactly I was waiting for, but I stood there feeling kind of stunned. The hum of the window on the passenger side of the truck unrolling snapped me out of my daze.
"You coming, Eddie, or you just gonna camp out here?" Emmett barked. "Charlie doesn't like waiting."
"Yeah," I nodded, feeling the anxiety I'd been pushing down all day creeping up my throat from the pit of my stomach. "I guess I am."
Up next….The Ranch! Let me know what you think of Edward. Thanks so much for reading!