Waking up in an unfamiliar room was hard for me, especially when the last thing I remembered was the hum of the engine and my warm breath on the cold window. As I sat up and pulled the purple quilt around me, I looked at the room that had belonged to me since I was born. There was a worn wooden rocking chair in the corner where the ghost of my young father rocked me to sleep. Yellowed lace curtains hung around the bay window my mother felt was a cage to keep us both in. These were the few things that remained from the last time I was here. Charlie had told me the things he had changed as I grew. My crib to a bed, a desk for my summer homework. I was never allowed to take him up on the offer, although my heart hurt to see him try so hard to accommodate me. I vowed to be grateful I now had a reason to put these things to use - and I would be trying to pay him back when I could.

I tiptoed to the window seat, unaware of what time it was. The early September sun was attempting to break through the thick fog and foliage that was as ever-present as the evergreens in Forks. It was pretty, my mother was right about that. There was a heavy feeling settling in my chest as I gazed at the shrouded treetops in the distance. I wasn't sure it was a bad thing. The weight was more akin to a heavy blanket than a noose. I was starting to feel cautiously optimistic about Forks - it seemed there were a lot more things lately I couldn't quite trust my mother on - more than even the promises of having filed her taxes or that she was on top of the moving paperwork.

I heard Charlie shuffle out of his room then, and panicked - I forgot to make breakfast! A wave of disappointment and shame washed over me - what an ungrateful thing to do. I mentally kicked myself while I quickly changed out of my travelling clothes from last night and rummaged around in my suitcase for something decent - my favourite white blouse with tiny roses I had embroidered onto the babydoll collar and some comfortable loose fit jeans. I could make it weather-appropriate later.

I hurried to open the door then carefully shut it behind me. Mentally cringing, I all but ran down the stairs to greet Charlie. I found him at the old square oak table in one of the unmatching chairs of the tiny yellow kitchen, wearing his uniform with all but his jacket and gun.

"Morning dad! I'm really sorry I didn't get breakfast ready, I must have forgotten to set an alarm." I smiled at him apologetically.

He waved me off. "Caffeine is usually my breakfast anyway."

"What can I fix you before you leave?" I asked, as I opened the nearest cupboard.

"Bells, relax. I haven't really done any food shopping yet anyway." He downed his mug and patted me on the shoulder as he passed on his way to grab his police jacket and gun belt.

"That's fine, I can go after school if you want me to."

He paused at this and looked at me puzzlingly. "I thought you'd want to give yourself a day to settle in first. You don't have to rush back to school on the first day if you need a break from travelling."

"I… I should go. No sense in delaying the inevitable, dad." I gave what I hoped to be a brave smile.

Now he looked embarrassed. "I mean I can take you in the squad car if you want but I had planned for Jacob to swing by with the truck today. The kids at La Push don't start back 'till next week. Might be nice for you to have a friend too."

I thought quietly for a minute while he pulled on his jacket. The last thing I wanted was to show up like that. But wouldn't it be lazy to skip my first day with no good reason?

"You wouldn't be skipping," He read my mind. "I already talked to the school about this. Told em' you get plane sick. C'mon, take a day off kid." He pulled the back of my neck towards his chest and gave the top of my head a quick kiss.

I smiled at him weakly. If I wasn't careful, the tears would spill over before he was out the door. "Have a good day, Chief." His eyes crinkled in response and he left me in the kitchen. It was only when I heard the sputter of the engine that I let myself sink into a chair and fall apart.

The little time I had spent with Charlie on his visits hadn't prepared me for this. Back then we were awkward, standing 5 feet apart and barely talking. Now I was… home… he was being sweet. He caught me when I fell at the airport, he brought me to bed when I fell asleep, he knew exactly what I needed today. How could I have ever listened to mom about him? Cold and unfeeling? Neglectful and selfish? God, how could I have been so stupid? It took less than two hours combined living with Charlie to realise how wrong I'd been.

I walked to the fireplace in the adjourning handkerchief-sized living room. It was the only place in the whole downstairs that was dusted, as far as I could see. Sitting on the mantelpiece was a row of family photos. A wedding picture of a young mom and dad in Las Vegas, one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, school photos of every single year we were apart, right up until last year. It was impossible, being in this house, not to realise that Charlie had never gotten over my mom taking me. I didn't remember the last time mom had even looked at a school photo of mine. I pulled myself together. I couldn't wallow in the mistakes of my mother.

I headed back up the wooden stairs to unpack and pulled my hair into a simple ponytail. My lacking winter wardrobe fit easily in a single drawer, and I hadn't brought with me a lot of personal belongings other than my books and a tiny cactus - a cutting of the big one we'd had in the backyard in Phoenix. I was surprised to see that the noticeboard above my desk had already been populated with drawings I'd done for my dad when I was a kid. Touching, but of course, embarrassing. I carefully unpinned them and put them away in a second drawer.

I spent the morning cleaning the kitchen after I was done arranging my room how I wanted it. I wasn't sure if Charlie could cook very well and honestly I was used to being assigned kitchen duties - mom was an 'experimental' cook and burned almost everything that came across her stove. The cupboards were sparsely populated, but what I found was surprisingly in date and usable. It was simple enough to make a quick meal plan for what we had in, and a shopping list for what I would need. I kept things simple for Charlie, and I wasn't a fussy eater either.

As I packed my cleaning supplies back into the cupboard I'd found them in, there was a knock at the door, which I could only assume was Billy's son, with my new truck. I opened the door to a tall, russet skinned boy with impossibly long black hair hanging around his high cheekbones, wide lop-sided grin and dark, deep set eyes. Despite his tall height, he looked fourteen, maybe fifteen and still had just a hint of childish roundness left around his chin.

"Hey! You're Isabella, right? I'm Jacob Black, I live out of town." He extended a hand which I gingerly took. Before I could answer, he pulled me forwards into a crushing hug. "You're so much smaller than I thought you'd be! I thought you were seventeen!"

I laughed as he let me go. He was so friendly, with a clear easy-going attitude. It was contagious. "Just Bella actually. And what are you, the age police? I am seventeen!"

He held up his hands in fake surrender and backed away. "I'm just the mechanic. And I'm almost sixteen." With that, I looked eagerly to the driveway. The truck was a faded reddish-orange, with big, angular fenders and a boxy, square cab to match. To my intense surprise, I loved it. I didn't know if it would run as well as I hoped, but I could see myself in it. It was the kind of truck you see at the scene of an accident, paint unscratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed.

"Let me guess, you hate it." I wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

"No, I love it! It's so… me." I grinned at him. It had been a long time since I felt this light.

"Yeah? Good because I sunk a lot of work into that thing! Now, I'm going to give you some car talk so don't be put off. It's a 1963 model, Chevy of course. C10 stepside pick-up with a nice short bed. Here's the keys and I'll show you how to work the clutch on the way." He threw the keys at me and I caught them awkwardly, managing to bump my shoulder on the doorframe only lightly which, of course, Jacob laughed at. I rubbed my arm as I went to grab my coat.

"Where are we going?" I called, shrugging it on regardless.

"Well I thought I'd take you for a ride, show the sights, you know." He said, lounging against the truck as I locked the house behind me. "I know your dad's got you playing hooky but that's fine, we'll stay on the rez."

I unlocked the car and walked over to the driver's side, sliding onto the tan upholstered seat next to Jacob. Although, luckily for me, it wasn't raining right now, I could imagine what a godsend this warm and dry cabin would be on those rainy Forks mornings I had ahead of me. Jacob had obviously done a great job cleaning it, but the inside still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. It was surprisingly comforting. I put my seatbelt on.

"So," I looked to Jacob, "Where to?" As promised, he showed me how to double pump the clutch and directed me towards his home in La Push.

The Blacks' house was a small wooden place with narrow windows, the dull red paint making it resemble a tiny barn. Apparently Billy was out right now, so Jacob led me to where he spends most of his time - his garage. A thick strand of trees and shrubbery concealed it from the house, and it was no more than a couple of big preformed sheds that had been bolted together and their interior walls knocked out. Inside was a chassis of some kind of vehicle and an array of different parts and tools strewn around the floor. Here and there were dirty dishes with the remnants of some old meal; a bowl, a plate, a pizza box. He looked embarrassed when I noticed them.

"Sorry, I don't usually have good company!"

I laughed. "If I'm good company, I don't want to know the company you usually keep." I took a seat on an upturned bottle crate. "So, you build cars as well as keep them running? I'm impressed."

"Yeah, when I have free time, and the parts. They run on the expensive side, especially the classic ones. But if your truck has any problems, I'll do my best to take care of it." He offered.

I smiled indulgently. "I doubt it will, with you around. It runs great!"

"Yeah, but it's really slow," he laughed. "I was so relieved when Charlie bought it. My dad wouldn't let me work on building another car when we had a perfectly good vehicle right there."

"It's not that slow!" I objected, already attached to my beloved truck.

"That's only 'cus you haven't gone over sixty. Word of advice - don't." He grinned.

"I'll keep that in mind." I said gravely.

"So it's your first day at school tomorrow right? Are you dreading it?"

I nodded. I was relieved that he seemed to understand more than my parents did.

"It sucks that we don't go to the same highschool. It would have been nice to know someone there."

"Well, you know where I live now. If you want to come complain about the palefaces, you're welcome to." I laughed. "Seriously though, you should come. A few of us are going to hangout and have a bonfire on First Beach this Saturday."

"Thanks, but I wouldn't want to intrude - you know, as a paleface." I teased. "Plus, I'm not much of a people-person, present company excluded of course."

At this he looked visibly deflated. "You wouldn't be intruding, and we could always just go for a walk. But I get it!" He smiled apologetically.

"Maybe I will come then, it would be nice to see the beach." I smiled back, meaning it this time. Spending time with Jacob would be a nice stress-reliever, and something to look forward to after the shitty week I'm doomed to have. "It's a stone beach right?"

"Yeah, why?" He asked, curious.

"Well," I began, blushing. "It's kind of embarrassing, but I really like the idea of finding sea glass or some cool rocks. I've only ever been to warm and sandy beaches and there's not much to pick up."

"Hey, that's not embarrassing! It's awesome to collect stuff, I mean look at me and my engine parts. I'll help you find some cool rocks, I promise!" He puffed his chest out like a kid and pounded his chest proudly as he made the vow, making me crease with laughter.

I left Jacob's when it was almost dark. I couldn't remember the last time I made a friend so quickly, and I really did look forward to seeing him on saturday. Before I went home, I searched for directions to the nearest grocery store. I may as well do something productive on my day off, and it would be nice for Charlie to have a good meal. It was the least I could do. When I came out of the store, it was pouring with rain, but my truck was truly the miracle I thought it would be. Like listening to rain on a tin roof, it was relaxing to drive home in this weather.

Charlie was sitting in front of the TV when I came in. "Hey kid, where'd you go today? You like the truck?"

"Yeah dad, it runs great. I was with Jacob, we hung out in his garage for a bit. I bought groceries on the way home."

"Good, I'm glad. Jake's a good kid, keeps his head down."

"Yeah he is. He invited me to go to First Beach with him on Saturday."

"Well, you should go. I usually go fishing on the weekends anyways; It would be good for you to have some company."

With that, we slipped into our easy silence as I filled the cupboards with groceries. I warmed the oven up, planning to cook a simple roast. After I put the food in, I headed upstairs to email mom. She would have probably wanted me to call, but I didn't have a lot to say that I was willing to share.

Mom,

I hope that Florida is good. I'm missing the sun a little bit, but Forks is pretty so far. I imagine I'll have a different opinion soon enough. Charlie bought me a truck, can you believe it? I love it. It's old, but really sturdy. He made me take the day off today so Jacob could drop it off. I think Jacob might be a good friend for me. I miss you, let me know if you've forgotten where you packed something.

Love you,

Bella.

I sighed and stretched, cracking my shoulders in the process. I was certain her reply would be a list of things she'd lost in the move. But enough of that. I need to serve dinner for the immediate concern downstairs - Charlie. Although, admittedly, Charlie was turning out to be much less of a concern as I had originally thought.

Dinner was simple and quiet, I was preoccupied with my dreads of school and Charlie always seemed happy to accompany me in my silence. I did the dishes, grabbed some water and said goodnight to Charlie, earning me a scratchy forehead kiss and a thank you for dinner before he went back to his TV. It was a little early, but it was always my tradition to read before bed. I had learned over many years to leave much more than just an hour for my reading - it simply wasn't long enough. I have many sleepless nights trying to get in 'just one more chapter' to attest to that fact. Sometimes I wish my brain worked like everyone else's and I'd fall asleep reading, but I wasn't sure that would ever be the case - it's not that I have some sense of superiority over being different, I'm literally and neurally different.

Tonight it was especially difficult to wind down. My thoughts churned over and over like a constant hurricane whipping through my brain. Worries swirled and scattered in every direction without letting me get a hold of any single one. A mist of anxiety and overwhelm surrounded me in my bed like the purple covers Charlie had so dutifully picked out for me… It was impossible to enjoy my nightly ritual like this, so I ended up staring at the ceiling, my eyes unfocused. Like always, I had shared my thoughts with no one and therefore there was no one to provide me comfort. It wasn't that I lied to people when they asked me how I was doing - it was that no one thought to ask me in the first place.

'Bella's so responsible, she can handle anything I ask of her. Bella's so mature, she always knows how to take care of me.' Ah, I'm thinking of my mother again. I hope that Phil is able to handle her. Can he do the specific way she likes her eggs? Find the hidey holes she tends to abandon her valuables in? She won't eat them if you don't do it correctly and she can't cook without burning the house down. She always leaves her keys, phone and everything else important in places like the fridge or the wardrobe. And honestly? She barely knows Phil. They only recently got married after a few months of dating. I'm afraid once he knows how dependent she is on me, and now him, he'll run in the opposite direction.

I thought about getting up to send him an email, but right now I needed to focus on getting some rest. It was a herculean task. As the numbers on the clock continued to tick by, my worries shifted from my mother, back to school. I don't relate well to people my age. The curse of growing up fast I suppose - I'd been running the household since I can remember. The truth is that I don't relate well to people, period. Perhaps it's due to the glitch in my brain we call neurodivergence, but the cause doesn't really matter. All that matters is the effect - and tomorrow would be just the beginning.

I didn't cry that night. It was likely the exhaustion and anxiety that pulled me under and I don't have any memory of falling asleep. Maybe it was for the best, but I felt robbed of the chance to mourn my old life.

Then again, looking back, there was no need to mourn it at all.