A/N: This story contains some mature language, violence, drug/alcohol use, and suggestive situations. Reader discretion is advised :)
The old truck engine hums and sputters loudly. Bella turns up the radio to drown out the sound.
Oldies rock music blares over the static-y car speakers as she drives into Seattle. An SUV with a golden retriever sticking its head out of the passenger-side window honks and speeds by her.
She groans, heat rising in her cheeks. This happens every time she has to go anywhere on the highway. Her truck can't go faster than 50 mph without breaking down. Her friend Jacob did everything he could to fix up the outdated engine over the summer, but it would cost less to just buy a new car at this point.
She loves her old truck, though. It has sentimental value. It's the biggest gift she's ever received from anyone, and one of the more thoughtful things her dad's ever done for her.
Her phone starts to ring. She reaches over to grab it and put it on speaker.
"Hello?" she answers, punching the off button on her radio quickly. The creaky engine thuds. She wonders if the person on the other end of the call can hear her over it.
"Bella! Where are you?" Jessica's voice shouts back at her. She can hear an Ariana Grande song playing in the background loudly.
Bella was supposed to meet her high school friends Angela and Jessica at their new apartment in Eastlake over an hour ago, but her 1963 Chevy Pickup is vehemently protesting.
"I'm on my way. I'll be there in like half an hour. I hope. I had to pull over for a bit because my engine overheated, but it's fine now."
"Are you serious? I told you that you could have gotten a ride with Angela or me! I'm surprised you made it more than a mile or two out of Forks," Jessica replies excitedly. "Whatever. The delivery guys dropped off your desk and bed a little while ago, so you don't have to sleep on the floor. We're starving and it's getting late. Do you want pizza?"
"Sure, pizza sounds great. I'll see you soon."
Bella sighs, running a hand through her long brunette hair, her fingers tangling in a knot.
The sun's already set, and the clock on her dash reads 8:51 pm. She laughs at the thought of sleeping on the floor when she knows that they have a perfectly good couch she could have hypothetically slept on.
In twelve short hours, Bella will be sitting in her Nineteenth-Century European Literature class and beginning her new life as an undergraduate student. The awkward days of small-town high school dances and being more than a quarter-mile from a Starbucks at any given time are long gone.
She will be living in an actual city again for the first time since Phoenix.
Bella wonders if Charlie will be okay without her. Sue and Billie come over for dinner every so often, but aside from that, he doesn't have anyone in Forks now that she's gone.
She won't be able to visit very often on weekends, either, after seeing how badly her truck is tackling the drive.
When she finally arrives, Jessica is standing out front, jumping and waving her arms. Angela is holding the aforementioned pizza and smiling.
"You made it! Woo! The squad's back together!" Jessica cheers.
Bella laughs, shifting her truck into park with a clang on the side of the street and hopping out.
She didn't bring much with her—just a suitcase of clothes, her laptop, some books, and the cactus that her mom gifted her when she moved from Arizona to Washington during her sophomore year of high school.
She can pick up whatever else she was missing around town later on in the week. She isn't a very high maintenance person.
"I'll help you carry your stuff in," Jessica says, grabbing the weighty box of literary classics and briskly charging into their new apartment.
They're now proud renters of a third-floor walk-up unit with a view of both the freeway and Lake Washington. The three-bedroom has an in-unit laundry, two bathrooms and is perched above a smoothie bar and yoga studio.
The building is neither super old nor super new, which means the affordability and mildew levels are in perfect balance for a group of young college students.
Jessica flings open the door and reveals the apartment in all its glory. Boxes block half of the hallway, but the living room and kitchen appear to be partly unpacked. Someone already set up the TV, and an episode of 90 Day Fiancé is playing on the screen.
Bella's room is at the back of the apartment, sandwiched between Angela's room and the shared bathroom. Jessica, naturally, got the master and agreed to pay slightly more than the others—for her own sanity, as she put it.
"Are you ready to start your path into the future and become an educated, productive member of society, Isabella?" Jessica says in mock reverence. "Just kidding-It's finally time to go to cool college parties! With cool college boys! And no curfews! And beer pong!"
Angela laughs, walking into Bella's room chewing on a slice of pizza. "Is that why you broke up with Mike just before graduation?"
"No, that was because he wouldn't stop checking out that girl who worked at Arby's. Plus he kept insisting that becoming a professional Fortnite player was an acceptable plan for the future. That's just not what I'm going for in life. I want to marry a doctor. Or a lawyer. Or an engineer."
"Okay, but what if Mike becomes like a famous gamer and gets a multi-million dollar brand deal with Twitch or something?" Angela teases.
"Then I'll take him back, I guess. I don't know," Jessica grumbles back at her. "Are you already eating pizza without us? Rude!"
Angela laughs and walks back towards the kitchen. "Grab a slice then! I'm not keeping it from you!"
Bella sets down her cactus and nods approvingly at her new space.
She has her friends, a blank canvas of a room, and an entirely new city to explore. This year will be fun, she decides, fighting back the urge to worry about Renée and Charlie and all the uncertainty that her new life will bring. Fun.
...
"Good evening. You're listening to Midnight Sun: Seattle's best music podcast. We stream live every Sunday night from 11 to 3. I'm your host, Edward Masen, joining you yet again in our final hours of summer. It's 11:05 pm and raining outside with a high of 65 and a low of 52.
"Many of us-myself included-are going to be returning to school soon. I would like to remind everyone that Midnight Sun is available to stream 24/7 on Spotify and Apple Music if you can't listen live. Tonight we will be starting with a wildly popular rock song released in 1995 by Oasis. This is Wonderwall. Enjoy."
Edward clicks play on the music stream, and the British indie hit fades in through his headphones. He checks the queue of highly curated songs he has lined up and rearranges a few.
He's been running the radio podcast for a few years now. It's picked up a decent following of listeners, most of whom are locals or other students from the surrounding universities. He usually plays rock, indie, and classical music.
Edward would never want to let down his regulars by carelessly slapping together songs he didn't truly care for.
His phone lights up and a text pops up on the screen.
Oooh, I just saw something. It's from Alice.
Anything good? he types back.
Her reply is instantaneous. You're going to have to wait and find out!
Edward rolls his eyes. The last time she got excited over a vision was when Esme bought her a new Chloe bag for Christmas last year—which came true. Or the time she said she saw a really cute guy with long blond hair and a voice smoother than Matthew McConaughey's" smile at her in a dream—which did not come true.
She needs to stop watching so many romcoms before bed.
Regardless, Alice insists that all her visions are one-hundred-percent true and accurate. She says that it's other people who mess them up and make them not happen.
She just doesn't want to be wrong.
Tell me. Stop being cryptic, Edward types.
A smiley face is all she sends back. He lets out an annoyed sigh and tosses his phone down on the desk as the closing notes of Vance Joy's "Georgia" drift through his headphones.
It's probably nothing. She probably saw a vision of the Jimmy Choos she's been eyeballing for the past month on sale. Like he cares.
Another text lights up the screen on his phone, this time from Tanya. You up? Wanna get a drink?
Edward sighs again and decides to ignore the message. He's already passed up her last two requests to get a drink, but she's persistent.
She's pretty with her curly strawberry blond hair and well-balanced features, but he can't see her as anything more than a family friend. He doesn't dislike her, but he doesn't feel there's enough there to warrant dating her.
Not to mention she's seven older than him, and he finds that outright intimidating.
He's never dated anyone before, and he isn't sure he wants to jump into the deep end with a woman whose serial dating could put Sex in the City's Samantha Jones to shame, as Alice would phrase it.
Either way, Tanya and her sisters come over every year for Christmas and Thanksgiving at Carlisle's place. She was invited to his graduation and always comes to the New Year's Eve parties and barbecues.
Ultimately, he doesn't want to make things awkward by being overly harsh in his rejections.
So he ghosts her when she suggests things like dinners alone together.
Edward wonders for a moment if he will ever find someone perfect enough for him to settle down with, or if he's destined to be alone indefinitely.
What type of woman would he even fall for? He ponders for a moment qualities that he values.
She would be witty, smart, loyal, honest, a natural beauty, not too materialistic, kind, well-read, not overly tall or short, selfless, professionally accomplished, maybe fluent in a second language, her taste in music has to be just right...An impossible list of characteristics comes to mind.
Hopeless. He's hopeless.
Edward rakes his hands through his haphazardly-coiffed copper hair.
If anyone like that even exists, surely he won't ever meet her. If he does, she probably won't even like him.
After all, he's twenty years old and hasn't even held hands with a girl before. He knows it's pathetic.
He sighs, louder this time, and queues up a particularly angsty Cat Power song.
...
The bar's so loud, Jasper almost doesn't notice his phone going off. The screen shows three missed calls, all within the last five minutes.
He throws back a shot and pats Peter on the back, holding up his phone. "I'm gonna take this. It's my sister. Be right back."
"Go ahead, Char and I will be right here," Peter says, grinning and setting down his empty glass. He pulls Charlotte in for a kiss. She giggles.
Jasper makes his way out the back door and into the little alleyway by the dumpsters. He very nearly runs into a big guy with dark curly hair coming in from the opposite way, double-fisting two pints of beer and singing what sounds like an old Britney Spears song. What a mood.
It's significantly quieter outside, the only sounds coming from the muffled revelry of the bar and stragglers standing around and smoking as they chat.
"Hey, Rose," he says as he picks up the call. "It's kinda late for you. What's up?"
At first, there's just silence, and he wonders if she possibly dialed him on accident. His stomach drops when he hears crying on the other end of the line.
"Are you...okay? What's wrong?" Jasper's words come out a little delayed, his head feeling fuzzy from the liquor.
"I don't know what to do," she says between sobs. "I can't stay here...anymore..."
He covers the ear he isn't holding his phone to, trying to hear her better. "Where are you?"
"Hospital."
She's a nurse, so it's not out of the ordinary for Rosalie to be at the hospital late at night.
Jasper wonders if something happened with a patient. Last he heard, she only works Tuesday through Friday, though.
"Um. Maybe you should go home," he suggests. "Have you talked with Royce? I'm sure he's worried about you."
"No. No...I can't. I can't go home." she chokes out frantically. "It's off. The engagement is off."
"What? Since when?" he asks.
Rosalie just got engaged a couple of months ago and was over-the-moon excited about it. She posted about a dozen pictures of the obscenely large Tiffany's ring, glimmering, glittering, and boasting a price tag that could make an East Coast trust fund baby blush.
All summer long, her Instagram was a constant feed of wedding planning and couple photos. It was damn near exhausting to watch.
"I don't know...where to go..." she blubbers. His normally put-together and fiercely confident sister sounds uncharacteristically pathetic and frail. Something must have really shaken her.
He feels like he needs to do something, but it's hard to know what when his mind is so clouded from the who-knows-how-many shots he's had.
"You can come stay with me, Peter, and Charlotte," he volunteers, the words falling off his tongue before his brain has time to catch up. He blinks hard and takes a deep breath of the cool, smokey air, trying to sober up a little.
She seems to calm slightly. "Really? Is that okay?"
"Yeah, I'll book you a flight now," he reassures her. "I'll text you the details. Give me a minute."
After a few parting words, the call ends and he pulls up a list of flights from the Rochester airport to Sea-Tac before stumbling his way back into the bar.
When he returns to his friends, Charlotte is ordering another round.
"You're back! Hey!" Peter hands him another shot. "How's your sister?"
"Not good," Jasper shakes his head. He clinks his glass with theirs before drinking it. "I should head home soon. I'm picking her up from the airport tomorrow."
"She's coming here?" Charlotte steps back in surprise. "She's not staying with us is she?"
"Uh, yeah. I kind of told her she could."
"Did she get into an argument with her fiancé over which place settings to use for the reception or something?" Peter questions sarcastically. "Surely they'll get back together by the weekend."
"I don't think it's like that. She sounded pretty upset," Jasper explains.
He manages to find a flight. After buying a one-way ticket, he forwards the flight information to Rosalie.
She'll arrive in Seattle a little after 1 pm, so he's going to have to leave the house sometimes around 12:30...
Shit. Jasper remembers that classes start tomorrow. He's supposed to be in his Philosophy 302 course on Moral Issues of Life and Death at 1.
That will have to wait.
"Stay a little while longer. Please?" Charlotte insists. "It's still early!"
"Fine, fine. Since you asked so kindly," he agrees.
Staying out a little while longer won't hurt.
...
When Edward gets home, he finds Alice sitting outside on the porch tapping away at some game on her phone.
Her long, neon green stiletto nails make an obnoxious clicking sound on the glass surface. The backlight from the screen harshly illuminates her big eyes and heart-shaped face in the darkness, making her look ghoulish.
None of the lights are on in the house. Esme and Carlisle should be asleep by now.
"You're still up," he states more than asks.
"Mhm. I told you I saw something. Now I'm too excited to sleep," she chimes, standing and twirling her way across the entryway into the house.
She doesn't pause from tapping the little brightly colored animals and fruits on her phone screen for even a moment.
"Are you going to tell me what it is that you saw, then?" Edward asks blandly. He's tired and in a bad mood and he wants to go to bed. Alice always has the worst timing. He doesn't understand where she gets all her energy from.
She smiles mischievously. "I think you're really going to like your writing class tomorrow morning."
"You stayed up until 4 am to tell me that I'm going to enjoy my class tomorrow?" he groans. "I'm so glad. I was really worried. That's totally something you couldn't just text me."
She giggles and flits up the stairs towards her room, her voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings of the large house eerily.
Edward shivers and tries to push her strange words from his mind. He needs sleep. Now.
He rounds the corner at the top of the stairs and there she is, standing in the middle of the hall, blocking his way with her overly-bright phone screen outstretched.
"Is this cute? Do I need it?" A picture of an impossibly tiny, yellow crossbody purse is on the screen. Under it reads, Hermes Mini Kelly II $8150.
"No. Go to sleep," he scoffs. "You don't need another fucking handbag. My god. Your closet is bigger than most people's bedrooms."
"Why are you being so mean? Lighten up," the petite brunette pouts. "It's cute. And little. Like me. I think I need it. An early birthday gift from me to me..."
Something tells him that she's already adding it to her cart and typing her credit card information into the confirmation form.
He storms past her into his bedroom and slams the door in her face before she can continue pestering him with more late-night shopping inquiries.
"Is it because Tanya texted you again?" he hears her small voice ask faintly from the other side of the door.
"No. Go away," Edward shouts back, throwing his wallet, keys, and phone onto his nightstand. He changes into the first pair of sweats he finds and throws himself down onto the bed.
"She's just being friendly," Alice continues to call out from the hallway. "She likes you. You guys could get married and have a little ginger family together and move to the Wisconsin prairies or something."
Pulling the covers up over his head to block her out, he sets his alarm for 8 am and proceeds to ignore the girl still chattering away at him. She has to go away eventually.
"Okay, have a good night! Sleep well!" he hears her say finally. She's leaving.
A fitful sleep overtakes him filled with a series of nightmares containing redheaded children, all of whom are wearing ugly designer clothing and calling him daddy.
Their mother is nowhere to be seen. They're screaming at the top of their lungs for candy.
They only cease when his alarm sounds a few short hours later.
A/N: I've started the process of slowly going through and polishing up the earlier chapters (like this one) as of January 2021. When I first started writing this fic, I was just jotting stuff down on my phone and didn't pay much attention to typos and readability. I'll be adding actual chapter titles to whatever I get through for reference. Thank you to everyone still keeping up and reading as I publish new chapters :)
