The car was silent as my mom, Renee, drove me to the airport Saturday morning, the only noise being the car we drove in and the wind through open windows. It wasn't an awkward silence or even an angry one. It was just the same silence that has existed between us for months now. Ever since I told her the truth. Ever since I came out as gay. That was back in April, on my 16 birthday to be exact. Four months ago.
My mother wasn't happy when I told her this. Her only child gay? How was she supposed to have grandchildren if I don't settle down with a woman? It didn't help that she wasn't the most open minded person in the world. In her view, homosexuality was wrong. A sin. I think the only reason she didn't voice her opinion is because I'm her son. Instead she chose to give me the silent treatment. Any conversation that happens between us was short and cold on her end. After months of this treatment I couldn't take it anymore. So here we are, on the way to the airport so I can go live with my father, Charlie Swan, in Forks, Washington.
As I'm about to board my plane Renee finally speaks for the first time, "you don't have to go you know."
A lie.
"I want to go."
Another lie.
Of course I don't want to go, I love Phoenix too much to leave without a good reason. But for as much as love it, Phoenix has become more of a cage than a home lately so I thought it best to leave.
Renee just nods her head and we say a short goodbye as my flight is called. I don't expect much more contact with her for the next two years. Not until graduation, then she'll be obligated to come. I board the plane and, after finding my seat, pull out my phone and earbuds, putting music on. Music has always been a good way for me to pass the time, especially since I not only have two flights ahead of me but also an hour drive back to Forks.
Before I know it both flights are over and I'm at Port Angeles looking for my dad. He's not hard to find, standing in his police uniform and looking out of place. See my father is the chief of police in Forks. It's also the reason I don't look forward to the drive home. Everyone knows that a cop slows down traffic, especially in a small town. I start heading towards him and once I get close enough Charlie pulls me into a hug.
"Elliot, I'm so happy to see you," he says pulling back from the hug.
I respond as we start walking to the cruiser, "Hey Dad, it's good to see you too. It's been a while hasn't it?"
Almost 8 months. The last we saw each other was back in December, a surprise Christmas visit. Normally I visit him every summer, as a part of the divorce settlement him and mom agreed on when I was a baby. I didn't visit the summer I came out to mom though. I was too scared to see Charlie after, incase he knew. I was afraid mom would have gone behind my back and told him. Luckily for me she didn't, that's one thing I can give her. Mom isn't a snitch. Even now, Charlie still doesn't know, and I plan on keeping it that way. Either way, we haven't talked much since Christmas, but for the two of us that's normal. Charlie is awkward and doesn't speak much. Neither do I if possible as I prefer to keep to myself.
"How's your mother been?"
I have to suppress the sigh that bubbles up before I answer, "She's doing fine. Her and Phil get along great."
"Oh that's great, good for her. I'm glad she's happy."
By now we're at the cruiser and I head to the trunk to put my bags inside, before going to sit in the passenger seat.
"Only two bags?" Charlie inquires as he shuts his door and starts the car.
"I lived in Arizona for 16 years dad," I say laughing, "I don't have many clothes made for Forks' weather."
The only response I get is a grunt from him. I put my earbuds back on and the rest of the car ride is relatively quiet. I spend the ride looking out of the window of the cruiser, staring at the green scenery. It's too green. Almost fake even. I haven't even entered Forks yet and I already miss Arizona and it's warm, brown environment. Oh well, I'll just have to get used to the green. It's my life now.
My new life. A brand new start for me, where no one knows anything about me other than being the police chief's son. I plan on keeping it that way when the first day of Junior year starts tomorrow morning. A new life also means starting over from scratch and for me that means making money. I'll have to find a job as soon as possible so that I can pay for my own stuff, with my first purchase being a car. I refuse to show up to school everyday being driven in a police car. I'd be the biggest laughing stock the small town had ever seen.
"Hey Dad," I say pulling out an earbud, "are there any job openings in Forks?"
"I'm not sure kiddo. There might be one or two, why?"
"Well since I'm moving down with almost nothing I thought I might as well get a job. This way I can pay for my own things, like a car."
For some reason a blush blooms across Charlie's face.
"Well you see kiddo while I do think it's a good idea to get a job for experience, and yes I know you had on in Phoenix, you won't need to worry about a car."
"What?"
At that the blush on Charlie's face turned an even deeper red. I'm sure the confusion was very evident on my face because I honestly had no idea what he was talking about. Luckily I didn't have to wait long before I got the answer to my question.
"I bought you a car already. Mind you it's a used car but a car nonetheless."
My earbud falls out of my hand in disbelief as my eyes widen. Charlie bought me a car. No one has ever bought me something so expensive before, even if it's a hand me down. I've always had to fend for myself, an adult before puberty even hit.
"You bought me...a car? How?"
"Remember Billy Black, from the Reservation?
"Not really no."
"He's the one I go fishing with on weekends. Anyway, he's in a wheelchair now so he can't drive it and once he heard you were coming down he offered it to me really cheap."
No wonder I didn't remember him, fishing was never something I enjoyed.
"Dad," I continue a bit more weary now, "how old is the truck?"
He hesitates before answering, "it's from 1963. BUT," he says noticing my face, " Billy fixed it all up before I got it. It's basically brand new."
"Dad as much as I appreciate it, I know absolutely nothing about cars. What am I supposed to do if it breaks down?"
"I'll pay to get it fixed then."
I can't help the astonishment that must be on my face. He must really want me to like this car.
"Come on Elliot, at least take a look at it before you decide you don't want it."
"Ok ok, I'll look before I judge," I say putting my earbuds back in.
The rest of the ride home is in silence and before long Charlie is parking the cruiser next to a rusty reddish orange truck. It was one of those trucks that looked like it could take a beating and still come out solid and working. The headlights looks like eyes that were too far apart, it's steering wheel is ridiculously big, and it is in dire need of a cleaning. The most shocking part? I absolutely love this car.
"Do you have the keys," I ask Charlie while starting at my new truck.
Instead of answering, he silently handed me a set of keys, one to the house and the other to the truck. I take them and exit the cruiser, heading straight to the orange behemoth sitting in the driveway. Unlocking the driver door I sit inside and grip the wheel. Closing my eyes I take a deep breath and inhaled. It smells exactly like what I thought it would; cigarettes and the smell of age.
A knocking at the window snaps me out of what must seem like a bizarre sight to an outsider. Looking over I see Charlie holding my bags with an amused expression on his face. He motions for me to roll down the window, to which I immediately oblige.
"You liking the car there kiddo?" he says with a small chuckle.
"Ya I do dad. Thank you so much."
I tried to express the gratitude I feel and it seems to work based on Charlie's resulting blush.
"Come on inside and unpack kiddo."
Charlie still lives in the small, two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother before their divorce. Their marriage didn't last long after I was born. Sometimes I wonder if it wasn't because of me would they still be together. In the end though I still believe it was never destined to last forever.
Together the two of us head inside and up the stairs to my new room. After dropping off my bags Charlie heads back downstairs, pausing long enough to say he's ordering pizza for dinner. That's the best part about Charlie, he doesn't hover. He's perfectly content with letting me do my own thing.
After dinner I head back upstairs and get ready for bed, dressing in a T-shirt, boxers, and socks. Walking past my bedroom mirror I stop and take a look at myself. Staring at the person in the reflection I take in my small pale frame. Age 16 and only 5"6'. Back in Phoenix people would make fun of my height, calling me short for a guys. In all honestly I'm perfectly content with my height. Continuing up I look at me long brown hair, just barely reaching the middle of my back. Fairly long for a guys hair. Mom always wanted me to cut it but I prefer it long. From there I look straight into my eyes that are currently framed by black glasses. They're a strange mixture of green and blue, making a teal color, and are by far my favorite feature.
As I look into my eyes, I can't help but see something hidden there that I haven't seen in a long time. Happiness. Happiness about being away from all of the people back in Phoenix. Happiness from being able to start all over again in a town where no one knows anything about me. I plan on keeping it that way too.
With this in mind I finally head to bed, trying to drown out the sound of drizzling rain outside my window. Even still I know tomorrow I will be the talk of the town. The chief's son finally coming back for good. A new and exotic specim for the students at school to gawk at, a freak. Before long, sleep claims me and I drift off into a dreamless sleep.
To say I had a very rude awakening the next morning was an understatement. After an entire summer of no alarm clocks, I forgot how annoying they are. It doesn't help that I got little to no sleep overnight. I never knew how loud rain can be, especially at night when everything else is quiet.
Sighing I force myself out of the warmth of my blankets and into the bathroom to shower. Once I'm done I have to face my dilemma of finding something to wear to school. Being not only the start of the year but also the new kid in town, I can't exactly go in sweats my first day. I decide to throw on some black jeans and a long sleeved purple shirt, throwing my grey jacket over top. I put my hair in a quick french braid, cliche yes I know but I was no in the mood to try that hard, and head downstairs.
Charlie is already sitting at the kitchen table when I arrive, eating the rest of what seems like eggs and toast, while reading the newspaper. Silently I make myself a bowl of cereal and sit down across from Charlie. The kitchen is quite as we both finish our respective breakfasts. It's not an awkward silence, just the pleasant kind that comes from a lack of need to say anything. Halfway through my cereal, Charlie puts down the paper and breaks the peaceful silence.
"Do you think you can find the school alright?"
What I want to tell him is of course I'll find the school alright. It's the only one in town and is right off of the highway. You'd have to be blind to miss the school.
What I actually say is:
"Ya I'm sure I'll be fine."
"Ok," Charlie says, picking up his dirty dishes and putting them into the sink, "have fun at school then kiddo. I'll see you when I get home from work."
"Sure thing dad"
With that Charlie grabs his keys and leaves the house. As I hear the cruiser start in the driveway I push my cereal away, suddenly no longer hungry. Sighing I decide that going to school early wasn't a bad idea. With this thought in mind I throw away the cereal and quickly finish getting ready for school.
Hopping into my truck I start the engine, which is louder than I expect, and begin my journey to Forks High. When I arrive I can't help but notice how different from my old school it is. There's no metal detectors, no security guards keeping watch, no irrational fear that you're doing something wrong. It honestly looks more like a school from a movie or book than an actual school. I guess living in a small town does have a few perks. Very few but still.
Pulling into a parking spot I cut my engine and glance at the clock on my phone. 7:15 am. I still had 45 minutes before class started and less before the other students start showing up. Sheesh, I knew I would be early but didn't think it would be this early. At this point I could either wait in my car for a few minutes or just go inside the office extremely early. After a moment I decide to just bite the bullet and start heading into the office. Entering the office, I immediately noticed a woman sitting behind one of the three desks. I glance at the plaque on the top of the desk before I move further into the office. Ms. Cope: Secretary, bingo. Walking over I stand near her deck and wait for her to notice me. Didn't want to be rude as she might be doing something important. After a minute of silence I let out a small cough.
Startled, she looked up at me. "Sorry about that dear, I didn't hear you come inside," she says. Looking at the time she continues, "You're here a bit early, even for the first day of classes. Anyway, how can I help you, dear?"
"I'm Elliot Brooks," I tell her. Recognition flashes in her eyes and I can tell the day is going to be long. Of course she knows who I am. I've probably been the topic of discussion around here for a while. Charlie's long lost son, come home permanently at last.
"That explains it," she says with a light chuckle. After digging through some files she pulls out two different papers and hands them to me. "Here you are dear, your class schedule and a map of the school."
Setting them down she takes out some highlighters and writes down the route to each different class. After that she hands the papers to me along with an orange slip. She explains that because I have never been to this school before and registered so late, the slip is to ensure I am in the correct class and that the teachers have updated their class chart. I thanked her and walked out of the office and headed back to my truck.
As I walk back I noticed that the parking lot has filled up a bit more. I got a bit of relief, that I didn't even know I needed, when I noticed that most cars in the lot were around the same condition as my truck. The newest car is the Volvo parked as far away as possible from the other cars. Pulling the hood of my jacket up, not wanting to be spotted just yet, I quickly clear the distance left between me and my truck and hop back inside. Grateful to be out of the wet and cold, I begin to look over the schedule and map. No need to draw more attention to myself by having a map in my face all day long. It doesn't help that the school isn't completely connected. Whoever decided that a high school should just be a group of small buildings grouped together was insane. A college yes but a high school? Insane. At least my schedule is pretty straightforward.
English, building 3
Trigonometry, building 5
Government, building 6
Spanish, building 7
Lunch
Biology II, building 2
Gym
I glance at the time again, 7:47. Quickly I stuff everything in my backpack and leave my truck. Before I start heading towards the English building I take a deep breath to calm my sudden nerves. Just two years, I tell myself, I can do this. It's not like anyone is going to bite me. Exhaling I pull my hood up again and start walking to class.
Building 3 wasn't very hard to find. Not with a giant number 3 on top anyway. Once I get to the building I follow behind two people in raincoats. As we pass the threshold of the door, they stop and put their coats on the coat hooks along the wall. I go to follow their example but stop short when I make eye contact with a black haired boy.
"Aren't you Elliot Brooks, Chief Swan's kid?"
Suddenly deciding that I would be more comfortable with the coat I reply a short yes. The reply is barely out of my mouth when all of the students in the area turn to face us. Blushing I quickly turn and go up to the teacher, Mr. Mason, and have him sign the slip from the office. Lucky for me he has a bit of sympathy and puts me in the empty desk at the back of the room. Even though it makes it harder to gawk at me my new classmates somehow find a way. The class proceeds like most do on the first day of the school year. We go over the rules, requirements, and assignments for the year. Mr. Mason hands out a short syllabus along with a reading list for the class. Glancing through it I realize it is mostly classic literature, a plus for me as I own many of the books listed. I haven't read all of them yet, so this is a good opportunity to do so. Before I know it the bell is ringing and everyone starts to pack up and leave. As I get my stuff together, the black haired boy from earlier comes to stand in front of my desk.
"Sorry I didn't really get to introduce myself earlier, I'm Eric Yorkie" the boy, Eric, says as he sticks a hand out to me.
"Hello," I say as I shake his hand and walk around my desk, meeting him on the other side. We both start walking towards the door when Eric continues the conversation.
"So what class do you have next?"
I have to rack my brain for a moment before I answer "trigonometry with Varner, building 5."
As soon as we enter the hallway all eyes turn on us. Everyone wants to get a look at the new kid, yay. I keep walking forward, trying and failing, to not meet people's eyes. It's a hard thing to do when literally EVERYONE is looking right at you.
"If you'd like," Eric says unbothered by all of the staring, "I can take you there."
"That would be great."
Eric seems like one of those people who are too eager to help. And a bit to cheerful. At least he's nice. I would rather meet a nice and overly helpful person on the first day rather than someone who is rude.
As the two of us head out of the building we're forced to put the hoods of our jackets up. Mother nature decided to rear her ugly head and bestow rain upon Forks. I can't help the noise of announce that I let out, prompting Eric to start up another conversation.
"I bet this is a lot different from Phoenix isn't it? I heard it doesn't rain much."
"No it doesn't, maybe a few times a year? I don't know the exact amount but it's mostly sunny all year." I say.
"Man it must have been nice living in a place like that," Eric says with a wishful look on his face.
"Ya it was. For a while anyway."
"What do you mean?" Eric asks as we stop near building 5.
I don't give him an answer. I can't, not without outing myself and I refuse to do that again. Instead I just mutter a quick nothing and dash into the building. It was it bit rude I'll admit but it was better than the alternative option. Tell him the truth and get hated on my first day? I may not like how nosy people are now but I'll take it over being hated.
Finding the classroom wasn't hard to do. The class itself, on the other hand, was an abomination to humankind. After signing my slip, Varner quickly gets on my bad side. Not only did he teach a subject I hate, but he made me introduce myself to the class. Being on the spot like that made me embarrass myself, stuttering over myself and almost tripping when going to my seat. On the bright side he made the others introduce themselves as well, even though they all knew each other. The rest of the classes all went the same way. Introduction of the class topic and going over rules and requirements. Basic first day stuff. Before long I started to recognize many of the people in my classes. Some of them introduced themselves, although for many I forgot their names almost immediately, and asked if I liked Forks. I lied and said I was enjoying it.
Before long the bell rings for lunch. This one girl who sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, asks if I want to join her and her friends for lunch. As I have no better options I agree. It's better than sitting alone, trust me I've done enough of that. As we walk to the lunch room I try to remember her name, continuously coming up short. We soon get lunch and head to her table of friends that she soon introduces me to. Even though the school is small, I don't recognize anyone but the boy from English, Eric. We all soon start making small talk, mostly about me. They have plenty of questions to ask me: why did I come to Forks, why is my hair so long for a guy, what do I miss most from Phoenix. As I try to answer the question as vague as possible I glance around to the rest of the cafeteria. That's when I see them.
Sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away as possible from the rest of the students, are five of the most beautiful people I've ever seen. They consist of two girls and three guys. I can't help but stare at them, taking in as many details as possible before my staring is noticed.
One girl, a blond with wavy hair, is the epitome of what most guys dream about. She has a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of magazines. Just looking at her could make even the most confident person's self esteem drop. The other one, a short pixie-like girl, has deep black hair cropped short and pointing in every direction.
The three boys are all different as well. The big one has muscles that look like the size of my face, with dark, curly hair. Another is taller and leaner with honey blond hair, almost the same shade as the girl. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He seems more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in college rather than high school. If I had to choose, he would be my favorite.
Other than the two blonds none of them looked related and yet they all seemed alike in a way. Every one of them is a chalky pale color. They all have very dark eyes despite the range in hair tones, with dark bruise like shadows under their eyes. All of their features were without a single blemish, no pimple or mole or freckle to be seen. All of them look perfect, almost inhumanly perfect.
After taking in their beauty I take in the rest of the scene. None of them were speaking or even looking at each other. It honestly seems like they aren't staring at anything, zoned out in a way. They weren't eating like the rest of us either, although they each have a tray of food in front of them. Every single one untouched. As I watch, the small girl rose with her tray — unopened soda, unbitten apple — and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged to a professional ballerina. I watch her, amazed at the dance, until she dumps her tray and glides through the cafeteria door. She moved faster than I would have thought possible. My eyes dart back to the others at my table.
"Who are they ?" I ask the girl from my Spanish class, whose name I still don't remember.
As she looks up to see who I meant, the bronze-haired one suddenly looks over. He stares at the girl for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flicker to mine. He looks away quickly, but even in that brief glance, I could tell his face held nothing of interest. It's if she had called his name, and he'd looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer. My neighbor giggles in embarrassment before answering my question.
"Those are the Cullens."