I. Speed Limits

"Yes, Officer, I did see the speed limit sign I just didn't see YOU!" - Unknown Author

Perhaps, it's time to introduce myself. For those who care, my name is Gwyneth Callaghan, I am eighteen years old and I'm passing to the senior year of high school. Currently, I'm living in general happiness of my having only ten more months to graduation. Then, I will get away from the damned education system and finally start to study things I'm interested in.
My aunt, Hayden O'Leary, decided to move us from Dublin to Forks only a few months ago. Until last night, I thought it was for that she was offered a better salary and working conditions in the USA, than in Ireland. Although I have to admit that the money theory had a few illogical aspects in it; for example, Hayden was a plastic surgeon. She had her own, private clinic back in Dublin,the patients of which paid her more than she would ever be given by a State hospital somewhere in the USA. And trust me when I say she had never been out of money.

That was, after all, why she didn't hesitate to adopt me, after my parents... well, went missing. I was ten when they went for Christmas holidays to the Dolomite mountains, in order to celebrate their eleventh wedding anniversary. Therefore, father bought seven-days-long stay in a luxurious hotel in Italy. Nothing could have gone wrong, right? Well, it apparently could.
I had never understood what exactly happened the day Hayden told me the two of them went missing. The police said they had gone out of the downhill course, when an avalanche swept them away. I hadn't believed it, because my parents weren't reckless adventurers, while I thought they would never take such a risk. Obviously, I had been mistaken.

Despite this sad coincidence, I'd never complain about my life. The past eight years, Hayden did her best to take care of me. Even though I was an ass to her, always determined to argue about stupidities, I knew she was working hard to support me in everything I did. And that was something I would never be able to pay her back for.

Nevertheless, back to the story I wanted to tell you.

In the morning after the strange confession, I wanted to confront my aunt about what she had told me, yet, the fate didn't agree with my plans. I got no chance to do so, because every time I wanted to ask her, something (or someone) interrupted me. At first, it was my aunt herself, making me decide which dress suited her best for the first day in her new job. At breakfast, it was Emily who asked us if we wanted scrambled eggs with bacon, or scrambled eggs without it. When I wanted to express my thoughts for the third time, a strange, shirtless guy came into the dining room, hugged Emily and kissed her on the cheek. Ems (as I decided to start calling her) blushed widely the moment he touched her, pulling away from him, motioning towards us.

"Oh. You haven't told me we had guests." The man's sentence turned out to be very unfriendly, when he noticed us. He stiffed, shooting us a careful glance. I wasn't sure what it was about him that made goosebumps appear on my skin – considering that he seemed to be just another grumpy Indian guy, whose family was abandoned from Forks into the La Push by Abe Lincoln (or someone like that). Naturally, he wasn't the nicest person alive, having to spend his entire life in a forest.

To answer your unspoken question, yes, I had whole ten hours of flight to study a few facts about the place we were moving into, and yes, I spent them studying.

"Sam, please..." Emily sighed over his behaviour, pushing her way around him, towards us. "This is Doctor Hayden O'Leary, new support to the Forks hospital. And this is Hayden's niece, Gwyneth. They moved in yesterday, from Dublin. Doctor O'Leary, Gwyneth, this is-"

"Samuel Uley, owner of this place," said the man coolly. Wondering what his problem was, me and my aunt exchanged looks. Hayden then cleared her throat, putting down her fork and standing up slowly.

"Umm... it is very nice to meet you, Mr. Uley. I'd like to thank you for letting us stay in your lovely house. Thank you too, Emily, for everything." She said, with a small smile on her face, kicking me under the table. "We have to go now, unfortunately. Patients won't wait, I'm afraid."

Oh my. Wasn't the jerk supposed to be grateful for genuinely having some customers? Perhaps, I just hadn't noticed that this Sam-douche was a millionaire, for his coming into his girlfriend's house half-naked. It hadn't pleased me to run away from the ostensible battlefield like that either. Therefore, I, at least, bumped my shoulder into the guy's chest while I passed around him. Being bare 5 feet 7 inches tall (and having strength of an eleven-year-old tortoise) however, I bet this little rebellion of mine hadn't affected him as much as I would have liked.

"Of course! Have a nice day, see you tonight!" Emily called after us, as we exited the room quickly.

"I'm not surprised that Wilson – or what was the president's name – decided to kick Indians out of civilisation. Especially if they were all acting as arrogantly as this douche," I stated realistically, before Hayden grinned at me.

"Shush, haven't you heard him? He owns this place," she unlocked her car, and so did I with my lovely Golf. "He can kick us out without a blink of an eye; so please, save these racist considerations for yourself, or tell me after we get the hell out of here."

"Come on! What is he, a freakin' satellite? He can't hear it, there're four walls between us and him," my right palm waved her worries away.

"Well, I would be careful with that. Some people have so developed hearing, that they can catch sounds much more over 600 Hertz, which is the normal hearing of-"

"Yeah, alright, I got it. He could be one of the... what... ten human beings in this world, who could hear us?" I asked her, not satisfied with her idea. "That though doesn't change anything about the fact, that you probably even agree with me; which means you're a racist too." I pointed out.

She shrugged innocently. "Can't deny that now, can I?"

I shook my head, a large, victorious smirk appearing on my face.

Hayden meanwhile frowned a bit, letting me know she was already somewhere else in her thoughts. Her hand went to the handle of her car's door, on the side of the driver, and she opened it as gently as ever. "Honey, are you sure you don't need a lift just today?"

Now, it was my time to frown. If only we hadn't discussed it million times this morning, I would have just passed it with a roll of my eyes. "No, I don't, because I'm not dumb. I know where to go!"

"But..."

"Hayden, I'll really be fine. Go, enjoy your first day at work!" As quickly as I could, I jumped into the driver's place, and shut the door closed behind myself. It was more than probable that she would try to persuade me to go with her, if I hadn't done so. So I started the engine, immediately turning the radio on, so there I got no chance to catch any of her protests. I then backed away to the main road, as I slowly drove to the first crossroads in the middle of nothing. I was well aware of that my aunt had to turn left to get to the hospital, while I had to go straight to the city centre.

I checked the right side for any other strangers who might be driving from La Push to Forks at eight in the morning, but none of such appeared. That was why I looked into the backup mirror, suspecting Hayden to look at me from behind. I smiled in the mirror and she sent me an air-kiss.
Then, I moved forwards. When my yellow Golf was far away enough from her black Audi, I speeded up for the first time properly. Don't think I was a road-pirate – because I wasn't! It was just that... the car literally asked for it.

The road was wide, smooth and far more beautiful than roads in Ireland. It really was a paradise for drivers, even more for those who weren't afraid to go a bit faster. Technically, the rules could have been broken, considering that NO ONE was going through La Push, right?

It made sense to me.

When checking the backup mirror, I found out there was a car behind me. That alone shocked me, of course, not to mention that the car brand announced it was a Mercedes; a beautiful, black Mercedes to be exact, the owner of which must have been a pretty wealthy person. I had no doubt about it. Soon, another expensive car appeared behind the Mercedes, while I found myself wanting to stop my poor Golf right there, run out of it, and plead the drivers to give me a lift to the city centre. I knew I would never see cars like that again (especially not here in Forks), until I'd earn enough money to buy some on my own. Then again, who said I'd EVER earn enough money?

Although I didn't want to do it, I flickered twice, in order to let them know they were free to overtake me. It was more than apparent that their cars were capable of going faster than my Golf was, and for that, I had to let them go. The Jeep driver hadn't hesitated to pass around me; in a few seconds, I lost the sight of him. The driver of the Mercedes, on the other hand, did nothing. It was rather creepy, considering that no matter how fast or slow I decided to go, the driver kept his car in a safe distance from my Golf.

With every single mile, I was growing nervous and impatient of the Mercedes' presence, using rudders more and more frequently. I had no idea what his/her problem was, but I needed her/him to overtake me, since my hands were sweating and I got the urge to show the driver a lifted middle finger in the mirror.
Soon though, something highly suspicious happened to me (which I would have never expected to happen on a remote road in the middle of nothing).

A police car appeared on the left side of the road, and before I managed to slow my beautiful Golf down, the policeman had already pulled out a STOP schedule for me.

Oh crap. What was I going to do?