Florence gets her first job at 14, during the summer before her first year of high school. It's just as a dishwasher at the local diner, but it's a paying job, something she'd been craving for a while. Money that was her's and not given to her by her parents. Something she could save or spend as she pleased.
Still, it left her soaked, usually. The industrial sprayer tended to spray not only the dishes but her clothes as well. So when her dad picked her up after work, she tended to be frowning.
"There's my working girl," her father greeted her warmly. He was wearing his own uniform, khakis and a green polo.
"Hi, dad." Florence grunts, slumping into the truck seat next to him. It smelled like his cologne in the car, familiar and nostalgic. "How was your day?"
"Mighty fine, mighty fine," he grinned. "And how was yours?"
"Some idiot mixed all the seasonings and condiments together on three plates," she grumbled, picking at a loose thread on her shirt sleeve. "Probably some kid."
"Nothing to be done about it but wash it off," he offered, reaching over to pat her on the shoulder. "Are you excited about school starting soon?"
Florence tried to contain an eye-roll. School was one of the few things she didn't enjoy about having to relive childhood. Perhaps it was the lack of choice of study in the matter, or how her peers were woefully lacking in brain development to interest her, but school just wasn't her thing. She went, she did her work, but she didn't hang out or vibe with any of it. Hell, if she tried to talk to people she usually slipped up and used slang two decades ahead of time.
"Not particularly," she replied. "Same ol', same ol'."
"Maybe not," he said. "I hear there's a new family moving to town. A fancy doctor and his whole family."
She tilted her head. They'd been the last new family to move to town, and somehow it never gets old for the residents that the Newtons are "new." Maybe with these guys moving to town, people would finally stop treating them differently.
"Do you know who they are?"
"Only the doctor, Carlisle Cullen. Susan," he said, name dropping a Nurse who frequents the store, "keeps raving about his resume."
"Nice," she replies lacklusterly. "Mike found a job yet?"
Her dad gave a hearty laugh, which was all the answer she needed.
One thing she did love about school - it usually meant new clothes. Her parents weren't shy in buying her things, but they'd had control over her wardrobe all her life until now. She'd never had a problem with it, per se, but she and her parents didn't see eye-to-eye on aesthetics. It wasn't that she wanted to wear revealing clothing, or something they'd not allow her out of the house in, it was just that they had vastly different styles.
Karen held up a pair of low-riding, boot cut jeans. They were bedazzled on one ass cheek. Around them, the thrift store was teeming with other shoppers. They'd travelled all the way to Seattle to get the best thrift stores after scouring the single Forks one and three Port Angeles ones.
Florence made a face, hoping to properly convey vomit. "Sorry, mom, but not a chance in hell."
"But honey!" her mom whined, scrunching the pair of jeans in her hands. "These would look so cute on you! And I'm sure I've seen Britney Spears wearing pairs like these in magazines."
"Not necessarily my style, mom," Florence shrugged, turning back to the rack with her measuring tape. She wanted high-waisted jeans and she wasn't leaving with a pair otherwise.
Clothes were a not-so-guilty pleasure of her's. She loved thrifting, loved sorting through the clothes, finding strange pieces and the occasional masterpiece. She'd learned to sew just so that she could take pieces she wouldn't normally wear and turn them into something she would. There was a sewing machine in her room for that very purpose, plus a trunk full of sewing and embroidery supplies. Plus, when she went thrifting it was easier to piece together fashion that wasn't yet in fashion. Just because no one else understood why she liked what she liked didn't mean she had to change her style.
She was wearing her go-to thrifting outfit; a simple black t-shirt, a comfy pair of jeans, and plain white sneakers. It was, in her opinion, a basic outfit, but still cute. Plus, when she was trying jeans on she got to see how they'd look without being distracted by a more intricate top, and vice versa regarding tops to bottoms. She'd left her hair loose down her back, but had brought a black scrunchy on her wrist to put her hair up if needed.
Which was needed, she decided, as her hair kept getting into her face. She reached back and tucked her blonde locks into a bun at the base of her neck. As she did, the tag of a Levi's caught her eye. Snatching it up she measured out from the button to the crotch and grinned. High-waisted! And potentially in her size, she decided, holding it up to her hips.
Florence threw the pair into the cart along with all her other things. She had a plethora of cardigans, sweaters, turtlenecks, long skirts, scarves, and other items already to try on. This was only the second thrift store they were planning to hit today. Saving up almost all of her paychecks had paid off.
Her first glimpse of the Cullens was in the lone crafting store in Forks. She was there for a number of things; fabric paint, embroidery floss, sewing thread, and new denim needles since her last one broke. Kraftz, as the store was called, had a small stock but it was a little bit of everything one could need. It was small and cramped, and there was a bell above the door that rang every time it was opened.
Case in point, the couple walking in right now.
Florence couldn't help but stare. They were both beautiful, the man with golden hair and the woman with a warm smile. They were as pale as sheets, with golden eyes. They held hands, loose but stuck together. The woman led the pace, leading the man straight to the embroidery - right where Florence was stuck staring in awe.
Shaking her head, she turned back to the floss. Kraftz had a new stock in today, glittery floss. It would be perfect for a starry night idea she had for a jean jacket.
"Oh, Carlisle, look!" a bell-like voice said with interest. "Glitter!"
A pale hand entered her vision, and Florence watched it grab a glittery red floss. She turned her head, and met the eyes of the woman, who smiled.
"Uh," she said eloquently.
"Sorry for the intrusion," the woman said. "I can't help myself when I get excited."
The man chuckled, next to her. "She really can't."
Florence swallowed around the lump in her throat. They were so pretty she was almost scared. "It's alright, I get the same with embroidery. I haven't seen y'all around here; you must be the Cullens?"
The man smiled. "Infamous already, I see?"
"Only in a small town," she replied with a grin, finally easing into the conversation. "I'm Florence Newton, it's nice to meet you."
"I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen, and this is my wife, Esme," he introduced, and Esme smiled warmly at her. He held his hand out.
When she took it, goose bumps rose on her skin. His hand was ice cold. She thought he should be wearing gloves.
"Well, it was nice meeting you, but I've got all I need and my parents are waiting for me outside," she threw a thumb over her shoulder at the door. "Y'all have a lovely day!"
"And you, dear," said Esme. She had a very warm presence, unlike her husband's skin.
She went and paid for her things, carrying two sacks out the door to the minivan where Karen and Matthew were waiting. Mike was sat in the back, texting on his flip phone. Florence still didn't like flip phones and barely used her own. She missed her touch-screen smart phone and dozens of apps. Paying for accidentally pushing the web button on a Razr phone wasn't her cup of tea.
"I met Dr. Cullen," she said as she shut the door.
"Oh?" Matthew replied, peering over her shoulder in the driver's seat. "They were there?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "He and his wife, Esme, were looking at the new embroidery floss, too. They seemed nice."
"I wonder if they have any daughters," Mike mused, and Florence rolled her eyes and smacked him lightly on the arm.
She'd been right about no longer being interested once the Cullens moved to town. Pulling up to school the next week, there was a bright, shiny volvo parked in the lot drawing attention from everyone. When Karen dropped she and Mike off, even their mother couldn't help but whisper a stunned 'wow' at the car. No one in Forks had such a new, shiny vehicle.
Florence was still peering at the volvo in interest when Karen drove away.
"Tyler!" Mike shouted, and she jolted at the sound. "Hey, man!"
Mike's best friend was running up. Great. Florence still wasn't interested in making friends in high school, especially in Forks. The kids here were judgemental as hell. She'd have plenty of time to make friends when she was travelling the world as an adult.
Florence patted Mike on the shoulder, "See you at lunch."
Heading inside the building, she found her name on the sheets of paper taped to the inner doors of the school listing their lockers. She found her number, 25, and went searching for it. It was in the first building, thankfully, so she wouldn't have to wander through the rain.
Opening it up, she saw her schedule sitting inside. Her first class was in the same building, thank god, with the art classroom being her homeroom. Conveniently, art was her first class following, so she wouldn't have to leave. Florence set her backpack inside the locker after taking out her sketchbook and art supplies baggie, locking the locker with the code written on her schedule. As she turned away, she saw two lockers down, the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen.
She was tall, with gorgeous blonde waves, and an even prettier face. And her fashion was impeccable, at least for this time period. She made low-riding jeans look good, which was a feat she'd never thought imaginable.
Before she could stop herself, Florence stepped forward. "I love your jeans!"
The girl looked over at her coldly. Florence could have flinched from the ice in her golden gaze. She didn't reply, or maybe didn't have the time to, before a behemoth of a man cuddled up next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
He was equally beautiful to the girl he was planting a kiss on. Muscular in a way teenage boys tended to not be, with messy dark hair and a strong jawline, Florence was really in her biggest bi-crisis yet. He didn't seem to notice her, though, and the girl in his arms looked away from her to smile warmly up at him.
She was even prettier smiling, Florence decided.
But shit. Class.
Florence turned and scuttled off, and she could feel the warm blush on her cheeks.
The art room was large with floor-to-ceiling windows facing out to the forests, wooden tables in the center of the room with easels propped up along the walls. There were already a couple of kids in the room, she saw, as she went up to the teacher's desk to look at the seating chart. Lauren Mallory, she saw with a sigh of despair, shared her homeroom. Great.
Looking at the seating chart, though, she realized she was sat next to a Cullen. Alice, it said. Looking around, she spotted the girl easily from her beauty. She was sitting in one of the far corners - and she was wearing high-waisted jeans! A silky camisole top in green with a cowl neck, and a black, wide-knit cardigan over it! Now this was someone Florence could get along with.
With a pep in her step, Florence approached her table and set her things down next to Alice.
"Hello," she greeted with a smile - and nearly froze when Alice set her golden eyes on her. What was with that color? All of the Cullens seemed to have it.
Alice smiled, though, and her bright teeth sent shivers down Florence's spine. Fear or attraction? Maybe both. God, she was a disaster.
"Hi," Alice said. "You're Florence, right?"
Florence blinked at the girl already knowing her name, but realized she'd probably guessed it from the seating chart. "Yup! How's it going? I love your outfit, by the way."
"Thank you so much!" Alice said with a smaller smile as Florence settled into her seat. "It's alright, first day and all."
Florence nodded sympathetically. "I get it, my family and I moved here a couple years back. It can be a bit underwhelming and overwhelming at the same time."
Alice shrugged. "I'm pretty used to it, my family moves around quite a bit."
Florence sighed. "Lucky, traveling is all I want to do with my life."
"I'm sure you'll get to," Alice said with certainty and a mischievous smile. Florence couldn't help but grin back. "I'm Alice, though you probably already knew that."
"Guilty as charged," Florence held her hands up. "We should hang out sometime, get coffee or something. I work at the Diner in town, we'll get it free."
Alice made a face, and Florence already knew what she was going to say. "Sorry, I can't. I've got things to do at home."
Florence smiled, more a grimace really. "It's alright, no worries."
Mrs. Clarke entered the room then, signaling for class to start. Alice didn't speak to her the rest of the class period.
School, was, well. School. The rest of the day finished out without any surprises, aside from seeing she had PE with Edward Cullen. She didn't approach him, remembering how Alice had sidestepped her invitation to hang out. She could only take so much rejection at a time, especially when she hadn't asked anyone to hang out at all in this lifetime. She went home silently.