Estrangera

The airport was dead, as dead as I felt standing beside my father at the entrance. No cars were beeping at us to move - it was midnight, and I felt the humidity seep into my skin even at this late hour. I had no desire to stand next to this man any longer, but I knew I had to for the sake of appearances, just until I'm past those doors.

"Daniela, are you always this stubborn?" My father glanced at the boarding ticket in my hand again as he spoke. The pain was evident in his eyes.

I sighed as I gave him one final hug before going to pass through security at the airport. "You should know the answer to that, Dad," I whispered in his ear, letting go and hiking up my backpack. "Bye, Dad. I'll see you at Christmas?" I didn't mean it.

With a sad smile, he nodded. Enrique was not a sad man, and some part of me, deep inside, knew I must have been the first real reason this man was sad in the longest time. But I couldn't be bothered to care right now - Mom needed me. And I couldn't find it in me to make it easier on him, a serial cheater.

The plane ride was long, boring, and more than once I reconsidered my choice to fly instead of driving with someone across the country, at least that could have been fun. Sitting in the aisle seat for six hours was not the move, you know? And of course it had to be six because why would it be shorter from Miami? Life couldn't just be simple for me. First, it turns out my dad cheated on my mom and she moved away to the middle of nowhere Washington. Tell me why that was the move? I personally think she would have done well in Cali or New York, signs of life; she's not the gloomy type at all. I guess that's what happens when you get cheated on after twenty years of being together.

On principal, I hate cheaters, so it was a no-brainer to abandon my dad for my mom. I only wish I'd done it sooner. I had to wait for the school year to finish out to start junior year at the new high school, I needed my records, physicals, all this shit I never even considered, pero así es. All the things we want come with prices, I guess.

Whatever, I was just glad to get away. My mom - her name's maria - is my idol. She's this phenomenal artist and uses sea glass a lot, she says reminds her of the Caribbean. It broke my heart to see her wither into nothing from sadness, especially over a man. She left the house the very day she found out, staying in a hotel until she found a place as far from my dad as possible. We have a… flare for the dramatics, you could say. There was even a huge blown out argument in Spanish and English in front of all the neighbors, meaning I couldn't go anywhere without pitying looks from them.

The great part, the absolutely greatest part of this all, was that this meant mom would let me do art with her now. It's the little things that make the difference. She said she must have done something wrong for my dad to cheat - she did nothing wrong - but that meant she now wanted to spend more time together to make up for the "disruptions", she calls them.

My mind started to race, though, the closer to Forks I got. I'm a very anxious person by nature, so I've always preferred either all in or all out. I was either home for the longest time just reading and barely interacting with people, or I was out every night. Suffice to say, I think my mom is hoping for the first as long as I'm with her. Anxious energies always manifested differently for me than my friends, well, the few ones I still had, come mierdas que són.

Feeling the nerves getting to me, I settled into my seat for the last two hours of the flight, intent on getting some sleep before morning. Fuck red-eyes.

When I got off the plane, my mom was standing right there in baggage claim. All sleepy, nervous energy faded away as soon as my eyes landed on her. All I wanted was to run up to her, let the hug say everything I needed to say. The only thing stopping me was the bulky backpack and massive suitcase I was lugging behind me. The moment I was close enough, though, the tears sprung. Maria Antonieta Sanchez and Daniela Rivera were together again, and that's all I cared about.

"Mami," I said, hugging her tightly, squishing us between my bags. "Ay, mami, como te a estranado."

"Yo sé, mijita."

It was then I noticed someone behind us. Just… there.

"Mami, who came with you?" I pulled away from her as I raised an eyebrow, examining the person just a few feet away. She was gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, just, I had no words. I probably looked a fool just standing there because she laughed softly, and even that was done so elegantly.

My mom laughed beside me as well before going over to the person. "This, mijita, is Esme Cullen. She's the architect I was commissioned by recently. She has a few children attending the school you'll be going to as well, and her husband is a fantastic doctor for the town. Esme, this is Daniela, my little angel." She said the last part with a gleam in her eye and it was almost enough to make me burst into tears in front of this stranger. I refused, not this soon at least. I extended my hand to shake hers - something I could never get used to from white people, handshakes - and she extended hers. The first thing I noticed was how cold she was. I attributed it to the fucking cold because go figure, it was cold as shit outside.

I smiled despite the chill traveling up my arm. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Cullen. Thank you for looking out for my mom while she's been here. I'm very grateful, ma'am."

She laughed again in good spirits, making me smile wider. This was good, my mom needed some colleagues, some friends for once. It had been a month since she moved out here and hadn't once mentioned any friends. To my knowledge, she was a recluse, but I'm glad to see that's not the actual case.

"Well, how about we all head into the car?" My mom turned to me as she spoke. "Esme was kind enough to drive me over this morning since my car still hasn't gotten fixed."

"Oh, true," I said more to myself than them. I had forgotten about my mom being carless. She told me at least she was fine, but now looking at the small scratches on her forehead and hands, maybe it had been worse than she let on. Maybe that's how she met the Cullens in the first place, the hospital. Shaking the morbid topic away, I smiled at Esme. "Thank you, then, again, Mrs. Cullen."

"It's no problem, dear." Her smile was blinding. I felt like I was staring into the sun.

The house was cozy amidst the gloomy background of Forks, Washington. The light blue wood paneling and brown roof were a far cry from the condos and townhouses of Miami. I stepped out of the Volvo, wondering not for the first time during the trip from the airport how an architect in Forks owns a car like that.

My eyes started to flutter closed as I slumped against the car, hearing my mom getting the suitcase from the trunk. The key in the lock reminded me I still had a whole day ahead of me. Mom had opened the door and was waiting in the doorway, beckoning me over. Realizing I had been dozing off, I sped up to the small clearing in the house, and took in the quaintness of the home. It was cute, I meant that. It was like a safe haven away from everything. There was a breakfast nook with a small bookcase beside it. The backsplash in the kitchen was white and blue. The couches looked worn in and comfy. I was filled with contentment as I looked around. Mom and I were going to be alright here.

"So, mija, why don't we just have some breakfast and catch up?"

I saw my mom grabbing the pans out of the oven and grinned. "Yeah, I'm down for that."

"Perfect. Esme," my mom started, "you're more than welcome to stay,."

"Oh, don't worry about me, I have to head over to the house anyway. But thank you." She turned to me with her blinding smile again. "Have a good breakfast, and welcome to Forks, Daniela, dear." She bid my mom goodbye and just like that, it was just maria and Daniela.

The quiet was comfortable, a good quiet where we were left to our devices to cook, or in my case examine the house further. I did hug my mom again, though.

I came upstairs and noted three doorways. I started by opening the one to my left. Bathroom. It was nice and white and more familiar. Bathrooms don't change. Come hell or high water find me in a bathroom with a breakdown - bathrooms don't change. This one was just cleaner than the one back in Miami if anything. Less broken down in.

The next room down the hall was my bedroom, I assumed. It was full of rich and light greens, my favorite color. It was cozy like downstairs, with little lights hanging on the wall and a wide enough seat at the window to read by. It also looked naked. I didn't bring any decorations; I'd left all of that in the house back in Miami, too. There was no space to bring that, no room for memories of my father gifting me stuffed animals for holidays. No room for the Harry Potter lamp he gave me just a few months ago "to always turn on the light" he said. The pang in my heart hurt deep inside, but knew it was nothing like what my mom was experiencing.

I heard a clatter downstairs, and decided I'd save my mom the space and not look at her room. Peeking over the banister I saw my mom squatting on the ground trying to pick up shards.

"Oh, shit, Mom! What happened?" I rushed over and shooed her away, telling her to grab a broom. "Honestly, Mom, get a grip," I joked.

A sigh from behind me signalled that it wasn't an accident. "Mija, it was your dad. He was calling."

"Yeah? Well, fuck that bitch, sorry. Not going to talk to him."I finished picking up the shards and went to toss the garbage outside in the tank with my mom following.

"Mijita," she pleaded, the pain evident in her voice.

With a slam, I shut the garbage tank closed and moved back into the house, yelling all the way. "Que no! You don't fuck with family, Mom - you taught me that! He went and broke all the rules! So absolutely not. Blocked." I huffed and threw myself down into the first chair by the door. I wasn't going to deal with this so early, and neither would my mother. We came this far to get away, and that's how it would stay. "I'm blocking him right now, Mom, nothing you say is stopping that." And I did.

Not for the first time in ten minutes, my mom sighed. "Fine."

It was now I took the time to really look at my mom since coming here. Her long dark hair was wavy and thick, sheltering her face, keeping her warm here whereas in Miami it would have been in a massive bun. The long sleeves and jeans fit her badly, she looked like a shell of the person I grew up admiring. Her tanned skin was palid, and I felt my heart break more.

"Hey, Mami, tell me about the new pieces you've been doing," I said, hoping to break her out of this funk if even for a little.

And that's how we spent the day: making breakfast, chismeando, laughing, slowly getting into a rhythm in this new life for us both. It wasn't until late into the evening I heard the rumbling of an engine. By now it was late evening and I had settled on the couch waiting for dinner to finish while my mom showered. Now, in Miami, you hear a car and it could be anyone from your great-grandmother coming over to chismear, it could be your uncle who got drunk too early and wanted to throw a party, or it could be your cheating husband coming to pretend like nothing happened. Many options, few I enjoyed. Despite my trepidation, I got up, folding the corner of the page I was reading of The Crucible. Junior year already seemed like a pain, but whatever.

As I opened the door, I was certain of three things: whoever was the blond standing there was the most beautiful person I'd ever laid eyes on from here to the Caribbean Sea; the shorter pixie-haired person had to be the other most beautiful person I'd ever seen before; and the cars they drove in had to be the most lavish things I'd ever bared witness to, and I had lived in Miami my whole life.

I couldn't breathe. Laying eyes on this pair, I felt my breath hitch, my lungs constrict, my knees shake - I felt the loss of my body in that moment, and the worst part was that I couldn't figure out why.

The pixie-looking person stepped forward first and offered me her hand. Right. White people, really, really white people.

"Wow, you're white." My eyebrows shot up as I realized I had said that aloud. I saw them both quirk an eyebrow and look at the other. "Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry I didn't mean 'wow' in a bad way, I just meant it like, you're really, white, I mean - ah fuck." I slapped a hand to my face and crumpled against the doorway. The person's hand was still outstretched and I sensed them adjusting it to their side. "I'm sorry." I peeked through my fingers to see the taller person eyeing me strangely, while the smaller one was grinning brightly. That smile, I'd just seen it earlier.

"I don't mean to be rude and ask, but, uh, are you part of the Cullens?" Now that got their attention for sure.

"You'd be right," the tall blond said. God, even their voice had me whimpering. Not that I'd let that show. "I take it you're Daniela then?"

"Well, they do say my mom and I look alike, so what's stopping me from being maria?"

Tall person let their hair fall to the side and looked at me thoroughly. "Well, the fact we already know her seems like a good reassurance."

I felt my smile widen. Was this little white person going to entrance me? I think so. "You got me. Now who are y'all? I only know Mrs. Cullen really and my mom apparently likes keeping secrets from me."

The shorter one spoke up this time. "I'm Alice! And this is Jasper. And I think we're going to be great friends."

I hesitated a little before speaking again. "Do you also mind telling me your pronouns? I don't want to just continue to call you "they" in my head without knowing what you're comfortable using." I took their silence as refusal at first, leaving me anxious all of a sudden. "If you also don't want to that fine, that's personal, so I totally get it, don't worry, I'm just used to asking in Miami, and I guess Miami is a far cry from Forks, Washington, so I'm sorry, really -"

"Stop apologizing." Oh, God, that voice was going to do me in.

I felt the heat travel up my neck as I rubbed at it, not glancing up. "Still -"

"I'm Jasper, he/him, this is Alice, she/her. Now, with that cleared up, do you mind letting us in? We did come here with a reason, after all."

I flushed even more, noticing the kind of pixie look that lit up Alice's face when I heard Jasper speak. Oh… what if… they're a thing? Oh, that's kinda weird, but who am I to judge? But… aren't they, like, kind of related then?

Alice clearing her throat brought me out of the reverie. I just felt the flush on my face darkening and I allowed myself to just open the door further and let them in, hoping they wouldn't think too deeply about why I was blushing. But I will say, I caught Jasper looking at me through my curls. It was under the fluorescent lights of my new home did I notice they had amber eyes. Yeah, amber, like Jurassic-Park-mosquitoes-stuck-in-amber amber. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was breathtakingly beautiful. I felt my jaw go slack and I hurried to not look a fool, again. It seemed it would be a pattern here, though.

That's how I found myself sitting beside my mother while she charmed the most charming people I'd ever met, we were from Miami, Cuban Miami people, literally charisma empowered.

"It's so lovely to see you both again. And you have to tell Rosalie and Emmett thank you for the fast work on the car, I'm very grateful."

"Now, Alice, you have to take Dani shopping, she's a mess about it if it's not swimsuits or shorts."

"Jasper, you know we're Cuban? No, mija, listen, Jasper is wonderful in Spanish, he's a proud born Texan, you know. You two can practice Spanish together. Your teacher did say you could be with the advanced class anyway. Should have just let you place, I said, but I guess not here."

That topic seemed to bring my mom back down from whatever social high she was on now. "Oh, yes, that's right school starts soon and you should all be in the same grade! That's perfect." Here she looked hopeful at the two guests. "Please do take care of her, she tends to get a little carried away."

"Mom!" I shrieked, laughing all the while, knowing exactly what she meant. There was this one time in fifth grade - ah, good times.

I saw a grimace cross Jasper's face when I spoke, deflating me a bit. "So we've seen, ma'am," Jasper said.

My mom sighed. "Jasper, dear, please how many times do I have to remind you kids, call me maria! Really, I'm not that old enough to be called ma'am."

"Sorry, Maria! You know Jasper, always the gentleman." Alice tilted her head back to peer up at Jasper and in that moment my heart dropped a little. They had to be a thing. I shifted in my seat, practically squirming at the intimate look they seemed to be sharing.

Suddenly, the old clock behind us seemed to bring them back to the present. Almost in sync, the pair stood up and started shaking hands with my mom, offering her goodnight wishes and last minute promises to watch out for me at school once the term started. I started letting the anxiety get to me then. If the rest of the town was like this, I think I might have fucked up coming here.

"Daniela! Di adios!"

"Oh." I shakily stood up and waved goodbye from my spot. They furrowed their brows slightly, but other than that said goodbye, Alice lingering just a bit longer than Jasper, offering me a smile, then they left.

I didn't process what the meeting was about until they had cleared out and my mom was outside yelling for me.

"Look at our car!"

I blankly stared at the red Honda Civic parked in our driveway. I vaguely heard her mention I'd meet another new girl tomorrow at school, something about not being alone, Arizona, I didn't catch the rest of the spiel. I gave my mom a small smile, thanking her before heading upstairs. It was late and school would be starting tomorrow. See, I meant it when I said I was all in or all out. I could be the most relaxed person in the room and instantly be so anxious I was paralyzed. I had to be so in tune with my surroundings, or I just had to be blissfully unaware of everything. There was never an in-between for me. Mom used to always say it was perfectly all right, but it always threw Dad off his game to see my mood swings give him whiplash. Speaking of Dad, I knew I did the right thing. I just couldn't shake the memory of my mom looking so broken down - that's my job.

Sighing, again, I gave in to the idea I'd be doing that often here in Forks, Washington. This place… I looked at the window to see my mom running a hand down the car door. Something was off about it. And I didn't know if I wanted to find out why. I couldn't go back to Miami either, not like anyone would have cared. I didn't give them a reason to, after all.

I shimmied out of my jeans and sweater, tossing on pajamas, and lying in bed. I checked my phone out of habit - no new message. This was it now, I guess.