"Well," Charlie was smiling with his arms outstretched looking both apprehensive and excited. "What do you think?"
"Wha- I… I." Panic began to sink its claws into her gut. She couldn't speak, couldn't think- was she even breathing?
What did she do?
No. No No.
"It's not much but I figured it would get you to school and… well, anywhere else you want to go." He rubbed the back of his neck and turned to look at the rusted out tank of a truck.
"Dad, it's…" She couldn't do pleasantly neutral for this- that would just piss him off. She had to be at level ten with her gratitude and excitement. Anything else, if history were any kind of teacher, would incite violence "This is amazing!"
Her voice squeaked, her face was doing that crazed smiling lunatic thing that appeased her mother whenever she gave Bella anything at all. Bella had to be over the top grateful for the clothes on her back, the food in her belly and for anything more than that, Bella had to grovel. Rene never gifted anything. Everything she gave was a punishment waiting to happen.
Bella could not deal with any more punishments. Especially not from Charlie.
No. No. No.
"You like it?" He turned to grin at her, hands on his hips and looking relieved. "Really?"
"I love it." Bella's stomach curled. Moisture popped up on her forehead. Blood was rushing to her head and starting up a dull roar in her ears. "Thank you so much! This is so awesome- I can't believe you would get me a truck!"
She hated it. Loathed it.
Was he buying preemptive forgiveness? Did he intend to use the truck as leverage to keep her under his thumb? She had perfectly functioning legs- why couldn't she just walk everywhere?
"Wow- Dad- wow!"
Bella made sure to touch the damn thing. She touched the tires, pet the hood and wrenched the driver side door open. Her hands shook as she gripped the steering wheel. Her skin crawled and she tensed when he moved to stand beside her in the driver's side- blocking the only quick exit.
She'd have to climb over the seats to get out the other side and then fight with the heavy door to even get it open before she could escape. Which gave him plenty of time to just reach out and grab her- drag her out by her hair or foot or arm.
What if she wasn't showing enough gratitude? Charlie was bigger than her mother. He was taller and more muscled. When he hit her it would hurt so much more. Bella couldn't take another beating. Her bruises were still healing from the last time she'd been punished. It would hurt. Did she have the structural integrity to withstand one of his hits?
"Bells," She could just barely register his voice over the blood pounding in her ears. "Are you okay?"
"Oh um…" She was breathing too fast and he heard her. Her hands were shaking on the wheel and her vision was tunneling. Bella was about to have a full blown panic attack in front of god and county. Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Yes, I'm fine." Bella wiped at the tears running down her face and tried to get her breathing under control. "I'm just- I'm very happy and…" She needed to escape. "I'm sorry- I get really emotional sometimes. I just love it so much." She needed to find a corner and hide. "If you'll excuse me… I'll go get a tissue."
"Sure, Bells." His voice was hesitant and unsure but he stepped back and Bella all but fled into the house.
Bella didn't know where she was going. Blind panic had her in a near run. She hadn't had time to find a safe space. Where could she go to panic? Where wouldn't he be able to find her?
"Fuck." She was in her room. The same one she'd stayed in when she was a baby and any summer Rene had let her visit.
The bed was too out in the open. He could pull her out of it and just wail on her too easily. Under the bed was small but she'd been dragged out of smaller spaces. There was only one bathroom, she couldn't lock herself in there- it would probably only piss him off.
So... into the closet, she went.
Bella pushed herself in the deepest corner, shut the door and pulled all the clothes she'd hung up the day she'd arrived on top of her. Panic-Mode-Bella thought that the clothes would serve as a barrier that would somehow make her invisible to the human eye.
Bella curled into herself and tried to remember what that book had said about grounding and breathing exercises. Name three blue things? Breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth?
Uh… Blueberries. The ocean. Blue jeans.
Tears continued to stream down her face. Her quick uneven breaths felt like they were burning a hole in her lungs. Her limbs were still shaking.
Blue things did not help. Fuck.
Did they have to be in the room with her? What was the trick? Whatever. She would just ride it out. Yippee.
It wasn't so much that Bella didn't expect to be hit. It was just that, like the naive little girl she actually was deep down, she really hoped she wouldn't be. Which was pathetic. Much like Bella herself.
Pathetic.
Stupid.
Clumsy.
Waste of space.
Fuck.
No.
She'd read about this. She was supposed to be nice to herself. Which was so much more difficult than it sounded. But she had to try. She didn't want to be Phoenix-Bella anymore. She wanted to be Forks-Bella.
Forks-Bella would be strong. She'd be confident and valued by someone. Forks-Bella wouldn't get hit. She would keep out of Charlie's way until graduation and then Forks-Bella would be out of Forks and the entire pacific northwest altogether.
Bella didn't know what she'd been expecting out of Charlie when her mother had told her to pack her shit and get the hell out. Definitely not the Movie-Dad she used to dream about when she was six and so much more… stupid was too harsh a word. Hopeful? Gullible? Naive?
Movie-Dad was the kind of Dad that would buy her ice cream, take her to amusement parks, and impart fatherly wisdom on occasion. Movie-Dad would never yell at her. Movie-Dad would never ever hit her- even when she really deserved it. Her six-year-old self had prayed for that Movie-Dad to swoop in and take her far away.
Charlie wasn't Movie-Dad. He hadn't swooped in. There had been no rescue. Her mother had discovered a new fixation, Phil, and had shaken Bella off the first chance she got. Charlie just happened to be the first available option.
Maybe what she'd been expecting when she got on the plane to Forks was… either a whole lot of something or a whole lot of nothing. Which maybe didn't make much sense, but there it was.
A whole lot of something would be life as she knew it in Phoenix; a constant cycle of really really good times- times that would make Bella doubt that there were ever bad times- and really really bad times.
Bella was tired of the whole lot of something life.
She would very much prefer the whole lot of nothing possibility. Which would consist of Charlie tolerating her presence until she turned eighteen. Bella would earn her keep with chores and cooking and he would leave her alone.
However, Charlie was not performing as expected.
In the three days they'd spent together he'd never rose his voice, never tried to swing at her, and hadn't even batted an eyelash when she'd burned breakfast.
Instead, the man tried to make conversation with her, asked her opinion on things, and bought her a truck- seemingly out of the kindness of his heart.
Bella couldn't figure him out. It was scary and nerve-wracking. She was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to snap and smack her, yell at her, threaten her, look at her sideways- anything.
He was calm and controlled.
Which was somehow more terrifying.
Bella could almost breathe normally now. The tears finally stopped and left itchy dried tracks down her face. She wasn't ready to leave the relative safety of the closet.
Charlie hadn't tried to hit her in the truck. The thought itself was almost like a blow to the gut. He hadn't been trying to hit her. He hadn't been a teensy bit aggressive or moody. Charlie hadn't even seemed all that interested in the amount of gratitude she'd been all but projectile vomiting. Panic-mode Bella had been sure he was going to hit her.
Maybe Charlie wasn't like her mother?
Maybe three days was long enough to judge a person's character?
Maybe Charlie wasn't going to beat her.
Which made for an almost comforting thought as she fell asleep.