Disclaimer: All characters and ideas belong to Stephanie Meyer, I'm just playing around. Enjoy.
Chapter 1:
The thought of returning to Forks was an undeniably pleasant one, but the thought of leaving my mother was not. The thing is, it wasn't really a choice. Well, it was, but not a fair one, because how could I deny that shine in Renée's eyes when she talked about Phil? Traveling with him, starting a family with him... how kind, sweet, gentle and supportive he was? No, there was no way I could put a stopper on her plans. Unfortunately, staying in Arizona did just that.
My mom was a free spirited woman. Renée took the spotlight in any crowd. She wore bright colors and had a voice to match, always talking and planning. She was constantly looking for an adventure. I was dull by comparison. I've always favored my father in that way, preferring the simpler things in life. The feeling of swinging on a hammock while reading a nice book, surrounded by trees and life— that was all she needed. No adventures, just... existence. Even with their differences, I consider my mom one of my closest friends and confidants.
That's exactly why I needed to do this for her. Renée didn't need an almost eighteen year old butting in on her and Phil's plans. After all, moving to Forks wasn't the end of the world... if anything it would be a calming environment. Small town, green forests, comfy houses, familiar people. The kind of place I've always appreciated most, in fact.
"— and I know that it would be a huge change, honey! You don't have to if you don't want to of course, I just want to support him you know? He has all these big games to go too... I've always wanted to travel, and you only have one more year of school..." Renée blabbered on, hands gesturing precariously close to the open water bottle on the counter she was leaning on.
I listened silently, eyes wide. She'd already decided the moment her mom brought up the idea of going with her boyfriend, Phil, to his baseball league tour. It was obvious she really wanted this.
"Mom!" I finally cut Renée off, smiling in bemusement, "It's okay. Really. I don't mind staying with Charlie."
"Really, you mean that?! Oh sweetie are you sure? It's no big deal really..."
I sighed, stepping forward to take my mom's tan, freckled hands in my own pale ones. "Of course it's a big deal. You deserve to live out your dreams. Besides," I smile softly, dropping Renée's hands to cross my arms, "I haven't seen Charlie in a while, and I'm sure he'll be happy to see me. I'll be eighteen in a few months, a full blown adult."
My mom sighs, although I can see she looks relieved. "I suppose your father would be very pleased to see you. Oh, thank you so much honey!" She pulls me into an ecstatic hug, one that I return only a little bit awkwardly.
"No problem." I whisper into my mom's auburn hair, mind speeding. Was this really a good idea? I guess I'll find out soon enough...
The trip to Forks was uneventful. Renée, predictably, made the ride to the airport one to remember. I read a book on the plane, but wasn't able to finish it on account of multiple wailing children. When they landed in Port Angeles, it was as stormy and overcast as she remembered Forks always was. The airport was a stark contrast to the one in Arizona, with only a sparse population that didn't form into loud and irritated crowds.
When I found Charlie, he had a half finished pastry in his hand and his tired eyes were darting back and forth between the emerging crowd of people to look for her. He looked just like I remembered him from the last time I visited about a year ago, with a big prickly mustache and curly brown hair that was tamed with a police cap. I waved at him and sped over, and he stood up hastily to meet me.
My dad had sounded very excited (if flustered) over the phone when I told him the news, but his often gruff and awkward — not unlike my own — presence kept him from being as overtly joyous as her mom might have been. I've always liked that about my dad. He had an easy, quiet restraint to him that my more hair-brained mother lacked.
Charlie greeted me with a one-armed hug that was stiff and comforting all at the same time, and I couldn't help but breathe in the smell of cigarettes and cologne. It was grounding, and I felt the disorientation of being on a plane for nearly four hours drift away from me.
"It's good to see you, Bells," He said with a smile, and I couldn't help but return it. No one in Arizona calls me Bells; It was a distinctly Forks thing.
I chuckled a bit when he stepped back and dramatically looked me over, one hand on his hip and the other stroking his mustache.
"Well, you haven't changed much." He quipped with a decisive nod. I smiled shyly at that. Charlie liked when things didn't change too much and I took it as a great compliment.
"How's Renée?"
"She's fine. Sad to see me go, but you know how she is... it's good to see you too, Dad." I tried my best not to call him Charlie to his face, though I didn't think he minded all that much. That's just what my mom always called him and its rubbed off.
The walk to the car was mostly silent as he helped me with my admittedly light bags. I didn't have many clothes that suited Forks weather to bring with me. When we were strapped into his police cruiser, he broke the comfortable silence.
"I found a good car for you, really cheap." He announced.
My eyes grew wide against my volition. The only car I'd ever driven was my mom's old blue minivan. I'd never had my own car before.
"Really?" It came out a little breathy, and I let out a sharp breath to steady my voice. "You didn't have to..."
He grumbled a few incomprehensible words, before, "Nonsense Bella, I'm sure you don't want to be toted around in a police car. It's no big deal."
I shook my head, unable to contain a bright grin. "Thanks, dad."
"Yeah, you're welcome." He coughed, sounding pleased.
We sat in contemplative silence for a second as I stared at the trees that we were driving by.
"What kind of car?" I asked, once I got over my shock.
"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."
"Oh, wow." I raised my eyebrows at that. I'd never driven a truck, and I had a feeling this one wouldn't be fresh off the market. "Where'd you find it?"
"Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?" I remembered the small Native American reserve on the coast with fondness, but couldn't place the name.
"Don't think so, sounds familiar."
"He used to go fishing with us during the summer."
I pictured a faint imprint of a tall Native man with dark hair and a fishing rod. I didn't remember our fishing trips that well, since I spent most of the time looking for frogs instead of fishing. The way the hooks stuck out of the fishes cheeks always made me feel bad, and a bit queasy. Even if they always gutted them out of my sight.
Charlie continued when I stayed quiet. "He's in a wheelchair now, so he can't drive anymore and he offered me his truck cheap."
I felt a pang of sadness at the thought. What had happened to put him in a wheelchair? I refrained from asking so as not to bring out any bad memories. My thoughts drifted back to my new truck.
"What year is it?" I heard him scratch his stubbly cheek in response, and a sense of foreboding made me purse my lips.
"Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine - it's only a few years old, really." Charlie explained hesitantly, and I felt a strange mixture of horror and amusement. I really didn't want my car to break down on the road or something.
Not one to give up easy, I soldiered on. "When did he buy it, then?"
"He bought it in 1994, I think."
"Did he buy it new?" This was turning into an interrogation.
"Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties - or late fifties at the earliest," he admitted sheepishly.
I shifted uncomfortably, running my hands through my hair. "Ch - Dad, I don't really know anything about cars. I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and I couldn't afford a mechanic..."
"Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore."
I sighed, resolving to take his word as truth for now, even if I still felt apprehensive. If I died a horrible death, maybe I could blame it on fate or something— Renée was always going on about that stuff.
"Well... it'll have character, I'm sure. Maybe I'll give it a nickname or something."
Charlie chuckled at that, tapping the wheel methodically— probably relieved. "That's the spirit, Bells!" He chortled.
"How much was it, anyway? Maybe I could pay you back some day..."
Charlie waved me off, nearly knocking his hat off with how strongly he shook his head. "Nah, it's no big deal Bells. Besides, it's a gift. Homecoming gift if you will." He peeked at me from the front seat with a hopeful expression.
"Oh." I opened my mouth hopelessly only to close it again a second later. "Thanks, dad. Really... this is one epic homecoming gift." I eventually said in a voice much softer than my own, and I cleared my throat.
"Well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.
The rest of the ride was mostly silent, accompanied by an older band playing from the radio that I couldn't place. It was a nice silence, one I never really had when I was in Arizona. For being mostly desert, it was a loud and lively place.
Forks was lively in a different way. It was bursting with life— the plants were green, overgrown, and sprawling with insects and animals. Moss and fungus clung to tree bark and little bugs seemed to fly ever which way. I'm momentarily disturbed at the thought of swallowing one, but quickly shoved that to the back of my thoughts. Still, it was eerily quiet. The populace was small and reclusive for the most part. The rain showered down in an endless torrent, even when it was only a sprinkle it never seemed to stop dripping. It was like a completely different planet. It was beautiful, but strange.