Stephanie Meyer owns the characters of the Twilight Saga. I'm just borrowing them.
Edward Masen has just been adopted by a young couple with a heart for orphaned teens. When he discovers life as the shiny new toy to the even shiner Cullen family may be worse than life as a faceless nobody, he finds comfort in the oddest place: in dark eyes of a stranger, as deep and mysterious as the ocean itself. Will he find the solace he had been always searching for in this strange, quiet girl, or will he find something greater than he could ever imagine?
"You hit the jackpot, kid," my social worker muttered, rereading the file for my adoptive parents yet again. "No kids get adopted at seventeen, let alone to a family like this!" Garrett closed the manila folder and gleefully smacked it on the fold-down tray in front of him.
I nodded to appease him. I didn't understand his enthusiasm. This adoption was going to be the same as any of the foster homes I had been dropped in. I would simply arrive at this new house, be used as a tax reduction, and in two years' time, everyone would move on with their lives. The only difference this time was added annoyance of acquiring a new driver's license for my new last name.
"You're just like Little Orphan Annie moving in with Mr. Morebucks," he smirked, mussing my hair, "red hair and all."
Orphan jokes hardly stung anymore—it had been fifteen years since my parents' accident—but they had to still be in poor taste, right? Garrett was only trying his best, so I let it slide and offered my most encouraging smile.
He returned the gesture—pleased with himself—and opened the folder to read about my new parents' obscene wealth again.
Doctor Carlisle Cullen and his wife, Esme Cullen. Apparently, the young couple had a heart for orphaned youth. When the couple was married right out of college, a terrible accident had forced Esme's niece and nephew into her care. For whatever reason, this led them to adopt two more teenagers. And when my social worker had read about this couple and their absurd generosity, he contacted them about me, and they decided to adopt a fifth.
I was on my way to begin my new life as a Cullen.
It was only a three-hour flight from Seattle and too soon our plane landed at LAX. Garrett retrieved my two bags from the overhead and the two of us ducked off the plane. We made our way towards the baggage claim, where we were met by an attractive, young couple in their late twenties.
My parents.
I had seen them once before when they came up to Washington to meet me and initiate the adoption process, but I could not help but be struck by their absurd youth and beauty. The doctor was young and blonde with movie-star good looks; his wife had caramel locks and golden doe-eyes and was just as beautiful. Both were smartly dressed in business-casual outfits that probably cost more than all of my possessions combined.
Esme held open her arms for me immediately, "Edward!" she sang. I did my part in my role as son and allowed her to gather me into my arms.
Garrett met Carlisle with a strong handshake and the two exchanged some final paperwork. They went over a few more details, and after about two minutes of chit-chat, Garrett wrapped it up. "Well, Edward, my flight back leaves in about thirty minutes, so I'll have to get going. It was a pleasure knowing you, kid." Garrett came in for an awkward, one-armed hug. It was unnecessary; he accomplished his job as my social worker. He could move onto the next kid and just forget about me.
"Oh, Garrett," Esme cooed, "It must be so dreadful to spend all day on a plane. Are you sure you wouldn't like to spend the night at the house?"
"No, Ma'am," he said, despite the fact that he was older than my new mom, "Thank you, but I'd rather get home to my bride."
Esme put both hands on her above her heart, "Oh, how sweet." I could already tell that Esme was like this all the time—babying anything that wandered into her view.
Garrett gave my new parents a parting handshake and offered me a final wave before heading back into the main terminal of LAX.
After a few brief seconds of uncomfortable silence, we decided it was time to leave the airport. Carlisle took both of my bags while Esme chirped away at my side, "You're so tall! Carlisle, dear, do I remember him being this tall? The plane must have been so uncomfortable for those long legs! We can take a walk on the beach before dinner; let you stretch them out. Carlisle, can you move our reservation? Oh, but, you must be starving! Come, now. There are smoothies right over here."
Soon, I was enjoying a strawberry-banana smoothie in the back of a luxurious black Mercedes with my new parents. It was a very surreal experience. I usually didn't care for bananas.
For the next hour, I listened to Carlisle and Esme complain about LA traffic and discuss their other kids. Eventually, we drove up a pristinely manicured drive to my new house.
No.
House was not the word for this behemoth. Mansion was more like it. The entire home seemed to be made out of stone and glass, formed with surgical precision. The grand scale of the home was evident from the entry-way, with its thirty-foot ceilings and immaculate chandelier.
"You have access to anywhere in the house," Esme started the tour immediately—her high heels clicked loudly on the tiled floor. I scrambled to keep up with her, "The pool is out back, the game room is on the second floor, the gym is in the basement." We walked through an enormous walk-in kitchen, "Feel free to eat what you want when you want it. Snacks are in the pantry; drinks are in the drawer here. The only rule is that everyone must attend dinner every weeknight. Weekends are free-for-all."
"Your room is at the back of the house," Esme led me up the stairs. She opened a door at the end of the hall to a sparse bedroom. This was standard—all of my previous foster homes were required to give me my own space. My bags were already sitting on the bed—Carlisle must have brought them up during the tour.
"You have your own bathroom," she pointed to a door, "through the walk-in closet," she spun and pointed to a glass door almost hidden among the floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the ocean beyond. It seemed everything about this house was designed around incredible vistas. "And everyone has their own balcony."
That was new. "Wow," was all I could say.
Esme smiled at my obvious awe. "I want you to be comfortable here. Never be afraid to ask me for something. No matter how frivolous. Your happiness is most important to me."
I nodded.
"Speaking of, when we met, you mentioned your love for the oldies, so I took the liberty of buying you a few more records." She waved at the back wall of my room that was lined in shelf-after-shelf of records. She must have bought out a store's entire inventory for this collection. In the corner beside the shelves sat an impressive antique record player, looking charmingly out-of-place among the modern décor. This was new, too. I couldn't remember the last time something was purchased specifically and uniquely for me.
"Thank you," I whispered, still reeling.
"Of course," Esme fiddled with the controls and gingerly placed the needle on the disc. Fats Domino played an opening riff and the room was soon filled with his iconic piano sound.
"I'll leave you to unpack. We have a dinner reservation at seven; your siblings will meet us at the restaurant. Carlisle and I will be on the third floor in our master if you need us."
There wasn't too much for me to do. I took the clothes from one bag and stuffed them in one dresser drawer and did the same with the second bag. My backpack contained a few books and notebooks, but those could stay in there for now. When I was finished, I sat on my bed and stared out the window at the vast ocean before me.
Promptly at six-thirty, I waited for Carlisle and Esme in their front sitting room. I didn't dare to sit on anything in this sitting room—every piece of meticulously-placed furniture looked like modern art that shouldn't be touched.
"Oh, Edward, sweetie, don't you look dashing!" Esme called as she rushed down the stairs, adjusting her jewelry. I had only changed out of my t-shirt and into my only dress shirt. She led me to a different car in the driveway and stuffed me in the backseat, calling Carlisle's name behind us. He was on the phone when he slid into the passenger seat of Esme's car and stayed on the phone all the way downtown. Esme left her car with a valet and I followed her and Carlisle through a crowded downtown area.
I was able to identify my new sibling among the throng of pedestrians on the street in front of the restaurant. Esme and Carlisle had given me a brief overview when we met and before my arrival, each of them sent me a letter introducing themselves.
A large guy with dark, curly hair was obviously Emmett. His letter was the longest of them all, but not because it contained anything of substance—it was littered with stupid jokes and poorly-taken pictures and work-out routine suggestions. His goofy grin and massive brawn gave him away immediately. Beside him, would be his biological sister, Alice. Her letter wasn't as long as Emmett's but was entirely filled, front-to-back, with words written in her tiny, little font in order to squeeze as many of them onto a single page as possible. Her short stature and willow figure matched her handwriting perfectly. Standing off to the side, a bit aloof, would be Jasper. His blonde, wavey hair and tanned skin told the world he owned a surfboard and he was not afraid to use it.
The second I came into view, the one I presumed to be Alice was in my face.
"Hi, Edward! Welcome to the family! It took you long enough to get here! I'm Alice. Wow, your hair! Mom! You didn't say he was a redhead! I love the color. The button-down, however. Eh. Redheads really shouldn't wear white; it washes them out."
It was easy to see the family resemblance between Alice and Esme.
Emmett pushed Alice aside and shook my hand, "Don't mind that little bug; she's easy to flick away. I'm Emmett."
Jasper stepped up behind him and offered me a fist to bump, "Jasper." In his letter, Jasper only talked about his art and surfing, so I was not at all surprised to catch the strong scent of weed wafting off of him. Smoking was almost a requirement for artsy, laid-back guys like him.
"Hey. Thanks, Um, it's nice to meet you."
"Where's Rosalie?" Esme asked.
Emmett pointed towards the restaurant with his thumb, "Inside. She saw some girls from school and wanted to sit with them for appetizers."
Esme shook her head, exasperated, "That girl." She touched my shoulder affectionately, "Don't worry about that, Rosalie means no offense."
I didn't take any.
When we went inside, the hostess greeted Carlisle and Esme by name and led us to our table immediately, despite the crowd of customers already waiting in the lobby. Instead of handing us menus, the hostess promised she would tell the chef about our arrival and he will come up with something special for Esme.
Esme put her hand on mine, "I don't believe there were any allergies mentioned in your paperwork. Do you have any preferences, sweetie? We usually just let Aro cook whatever he wants for us," she waved her hand toward the kitchen to indicate she was talking about the chef, "but if you want something specific, I'll let him know."
I shrugged, "I'm okay with anything."
She patted my hand once more, "Glad to hear it."
Soon, a man swept out of the kitchen doors, calling Esme's name in a thick Italian accent as he gracefully maneuvered around the tables. She rose to greet him, and he kissed her on both cheeks. He held her hands as several servers paraded towards us, placing family-style dishes on the table, while Aro described each one to Esme and why he chose to make it for her.
Esme gestured towards me, "Aro, I told you Carlisle and I were adopting again. This is my new son, Edward."
"Ah!" Aro greeted, "Molto bene! Truly a night for celebration!"
With a bow and a final flourish, Aro left us to our extravagant meal, demanding it would be on the house, in honor of their expanded family. As we were about to dig in, Carlisle's cell phone went off.
"I need to take this," he told the family. He tilted up Esme's chin to kiss her goodbye before leaving the table.
"He's always working," Esme explained.
"Dad's the best plastic surgeon in town," Alice chirped, "He did Kylie Jenner's lips."
"And Nikki Minaj's butt!" Emmett giggled.
"Kids," Esme scolded, "Your father had nothing to do with anyone's butt," she looked at me apologetically, "Carlisle is a spinal surgeon, one of the best in the country. We're very proud. However, being the best comes with a lot of extra hours. His absence is because he loves his family and wants to provide us with the most." It seemed that she needed to reassure herself more than console me. I simply nodded.
When a waitress popped over to refill our breadbasket, a beautiful blonde sat fluidly at the table beside Emmett. Her no-nonsense attitude told me she must be my second sister, Rosalie. Her letter was short, sweet, and to the point.
"Glad to see your willing to join us," Esme commented.
"Well, Jane wouldn't order another breadbasket," she said, reaching for the bread at the center of the table.
"Are you going to say anything to your new brother?"
Rosalie considered for a moment. "Welcome to the freak show," she smiled sarcastically.
"Rosie!"
"What?" Rosalie asked between bites of bread, "You think he doesn't know that? What other family has an age gap of less than ten years between them?"
To everyone's surprise—including mine—I chuckled.
Esme softened at the sound, "Well, we are an unusual group."
That didn't even begin to cover it.
OoO
The next morning, I rose and got dressed quickly for school. My first day at Harvard-Westlake Private School. Never in my life did I think I was going to end up a private school kid. Before I had arrived in LA, Esme had arranged several virtual interviews for me with the principal and various teachers at the school to make sure I would be caught up on my assignments before I even started.
Rosalie would be the only one attending high school with me, the rest of them were enrolled at UCLA—Emmett was a sophomore, and Jasper and Alice were freshmen, though they still lived at home and commuted to campus. Rosalie was one year older than me and would be joining the rest of her siblings at UCLA in the fall. It was probably why Carlisle and Esme decided to adopt me—they needed a seventeen-year-old to help them feel young again.
Outside my room, a clothing store had thrown up on the second-floor hallway—clothes were scattered on every surface while Alice whined about not being able to find a specific skirt. Esme practically ran me over as she rushed down the stairs with one phone to her ear, and a second phone in her hand, texting. Down in the kitchen, Emmett stood at the stove, burning some eggs from the smell of it. Rosalie switched on a blender, which Esme immediately switched off, and reminded her daughter that she was on the phone. Jasper sat at the island, cheerfully munching cereal straight out of the box, watching that chaos ensue.
I waited at the counter for someone—Esme or Rosalie—to tell me how I was going to get to school that morning. "Oh, Edward!" Esme breathed, as if my presence was somehow a surprise, "Rosalie, you're taking your brother to school!"
"No, I'm not," Rosalie decided and switched on the blender to drown out any further arguments.
"Please, Rosie," Esme asked, "I would take him myself, but I have a meeting with a new client."
Rosalie shrugged, "I'm sorry mom, but I already have a full car," she put her hand on her chest with a fake little gasp, "unless you want to me go back on my word!"
"Rosie…"
"He can take the Volvo," Emmett suggested, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.
Esme whirled, "Brilliant, Emmet! Can you please find the keys and show Edward where it's parked?"
Emmett shoveled the rest of his eggs into his mouth, "Yeah. Let me get my stuff."
"Tell Alice to hurry up or she's going to be late!" Esme called after him.
Rosalie shuffled out the back door, blended coffee in hand. Jasper soon followed after her but ran back into the room to retrieve the backpack that he left on the stool. As Esme adjusted her earrings using the glass on the front door as a mirror, Alice practically shoved her out of the way in a frantic rush to get to her car.
The house went from barely-controlled chaos to eerie silence in a matter of seconds. I took the respite to grab a few handfuls of cereal.
Emmett's chuckle echoed through the carnivorous kitchen. "Ready, kid?"
I nodded and followed him out the back door.
"School days are always like this; you'll never get used to it," he warned, tossing two gym bags and a backpack into the back of a massive red jeep. He led me out of the main garage and towards a back building.
"Esme and Carlisle bought me the Volvo, but it was never really my style. Luckily, a buddy of mine got me a great deal of an off-roading Jeep. The thing's awesome—tricked out as fuck. We kept the Volvo on a whim, and it turns out we actually kept it for you."
He opened the door to the garage to reveal one of the most basic, nondescript silver cars I had ever seen in my life. There was nothing to say about this car other than the fact that it was a car. I loved it.
He tossed me the keys, "She's yours now, buddy."
I easily caught them, "Thank you."
He saluted me with two fingers to his brow, "No problem. Good luck on your first day."
I took my time driving, knowing that my tardiness would be excused by ignorance. I wasn't exactly in a dire rush to get to school. The principal explained that Harvard Westlake Private School would offer me an academic challenge that would prepare me for anything for the rest of my life. It was going to be whiplash after attending Forks High School, where the textbooks were from the Seventies, and teachers considered Disney's Pocahontas to be a historically accurate film to show to the class.
The cut-throat parking situation was already enough to weed out the weak from the strong. I circled the school at least five times, ready to give up and go home until I discovered an ancillary parking lot down a dirt road. It was probably for staff only, but if I got in trouble, I could play the new student card and get off with a warning.
I pulled into the literal last spot and glanced at the clock on my dashboard. Thirty minutes late.
Another vehicle chugged its way into the ancillary parking lot with me. It was the only other car I saw besides mine that wasn't released in the past two years. However, the ancient Chevy truck could be a grandpa to my 2015 Volvo. It pulled up onto the grass next to the pavement.
Practically falling out of the decrepit truck, was the most gorgeous girl I had ever seen in my life. Her thick, mahogany hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing a beautiful heart-shaped face. She scurried to the back of her truck and heaved herself over the edge. The end of her ponytail seemed to taunt me as swished to-and-fro along her lower back, while she dug around under the tarp covering the bed. I tried to be a gentleman and ignore the creamy skin of her upper thighs peeking out from the hem of her little, white sundress, but I failed immediately.
Using all of her strength, she heaved a bag out of the back, which threw her off balance on her delicate tippy-toes and she began to fall backward, towards the concrete. In the nick of time, I caught her. She looked up at me in horror, as if she didn't realize there was another person in the parking lot with her.
Her big, brown eyes enraptured me. Deep as the ocean, swirling with just as much mystery. I was so entranced by her gaze, I scarcely noticed the temperature of her skin. Despite the ninety-degree weather, her skin was freezing, like she just had the air conditioning in her truck at full blast. But I didn't want to let go. In fact, I felt like I could hold on to her forever and it still wouldn't be enough.
She did not seem to feel the same way because she viciously recoiled from my touch as if I were the one with freezing skin.
"Sorry," I mumbled, but she was already racing away on shaky legs.
I leaned against the frame of my Volvo, allowing her a head start so she wouldn't have to walk down the abandoned road with me trailing behind her. I was already late—a few more minutes wouldn't hurt. Besides, I needed a moment or two the catch my breath, for I was suddenly breathless.
I'm sure the title and the mood board gave away what I am going to do with Bella, but I hope you all enjoy 😊