Chapter 3: Phenomenon

Phenomenon, na naaa nanana, na nana na!

When I opened my eyes in the morning something was different. It was the light. With my eyelids no longer closed there was much more light going into my pupils. What a phenomenon! Also of note the air outside my window wasn't obscured by fog. Maybe the real phenomenon was that I had been transported back to Arizona by some benevolent alien species. I ran to my window to look out it and my heart fell out of my chest and plopped onto the floor. No, not because I had been probed by the aliens and not stitched back up quite enough, but metaphorically. It had snowed overnight and now there was snow everywhere. It would take a lot of vacuum bags to clean this mess up. And there was ice everywhere, surely I would fall and break my neck today (don't worry, I won't. And even if I did I will continue writing this story long after I'm dead (or at least long after I'm undead, geddit? geddit? huh, huh?)).

Charlie had left for work before I got downstairs. In a lot of ways living with Charlie was like having my own place, if by having your own place you mean living with a neglectful parent that will no doubt create massive issues for you in your adult life, perhaps giving you some sort of extreme co-dependence. Instead of being sad about my loneliness, I reveled in it, because girls with daddy issues are hot, almost as hot as guys who secretly watch you in your sleep, determine what you can and can't do (and who you can and can't do it with), and with-hold sex and immortality. I threw down a quick bowl of cereal and orange juice and didn't bother to clean it up before I left for school (maybe that would get me some attention from Daddy, dearest.)

I was excited to go to school (not to learn, cause honestly what has a good education ever done for anybody? and not to see my friends who actually like me, cause let's face it, anyone who would actually like me has got to be a serious loser) because I'd see Edward Cullen there. And that was very, very stupid. I should be avoiding Edward after my embarrassing display yesterday. I mean, I should be avoiding Edward because he looked at me like he wanted to slash my throat and drain me of blood, tried to switch out of Biology to get away from me, and skipped school for a week to avoid me, then came back with different eyes and acted like nothing had happened. His league and my league were in totally different spheres of crazy. But I couldn't hope that someday, if I worked really, really, hard Edward and I would be united in the most extraordinary koo-koo land of them all.

While driving to school I had to distract myself from thoughts of Edward. It's not a good example to young girls to show a female heroine who only thinks about boys. So I thought about Mike and Eric and the obvious difference in how boys responded to me here than in Phoenix. It could be that the boys in Phoenix had watched me pass through all the awkward stages of puberty and still thought of me that way. Or it could be that I wasn't the main character in a teen romance novel back then. Or, perhaps most likely, it was the boob-job I had during my layover in Seattle. Whatever the reason, having all the boys in town love me was a real bummer. I want a tragic life, dammit!

For some reason my truck handled the wickedly wintery conditions on the road like a pro. I had no problems, which I found perturbing. Maybe this was some kind of weird phenomenon, maybe trucks in the fifties were built with the ability to adapt to their surroundings like chameleons.

When I got out of my truck at school I looked at my tires and saw Charlie had put on snow chains. Wow, I should have noticed that earlier. Also, how early did Charlie wake up so he could get ready, eat breakfast, perform car maintenance, and be out of the house before I woke up? He must really want to avoid contact with me. I smiled as I felt the overwhelming self-loathing, insecurity, and need for male approval bubbling up inside me.

I was standing in the parking lot, trying to hold back a wave of tears brought on by the phenomenal appearance of snow chains on my truck, when I heard and odd noise.

I saw several things simultaneously (an impressive feat for someone of my observational prowess.) Nothing was moving in slow motion the way it does in the movies (except maybe the plot…yeah…) The first thing I noticed was Edward Cullen, of course, standing several cars down from me looking like an Abercrombie model (I wondered why he wasn't cold, standing shirtless in the snow.) The second thing I noticed was Edward Cullen, staring at me half like a stalker, half like a rapist. The third thing I noticed was Edward Cullen's eyes were a different shade of yellow today. And the fourth thing I noticed was a giant, juggernaut van, hurtling toward me, about to crush me against my own killer truck. Oh the irony. I didn't even have time to imagine what my obituary would say, or the glory of my funeral service.

Then something shoved me out of the way and I fell to the ground hitting my head on the hard pavement. Hey! I heard the van hit the back end of my truck but it never hit me. Hey!

I looked up to see what had stopped my tragic demise and was surprised to find Edward Cullen looking down at me. He had one arm wrapped around my waste (You go girl! Said the sassy gay friend voice in my head) and one arm out-stretched holding the van at bay. The van's side had crumpled around his hand. We stared at each other awkwardly.

I chuckled nervously, "Hehe, of all the near death experiences, in all the world, you walked into mine."

And with that phenomenal display of lame-itude Edward sprinted off.

It took a good thirty seconds for the rest of the students in the parking lot to care enough to come over and see if I was okay.

"Are you okay, Isabella?" somebody asked. Probably Eric, what a dick-bag, he still can't grasp the concept of nick names. I really need to ditch these loser friends.

I sat up and looked around, my head throbbing. There were many people gathered around the scene of the accident, tears streaming down their faces. Was this all for me? Were they really so concerned for my wellbeing that they would cry at the thought of me being crushed under a van?

"Get Tyler out of the van!" someone shouted.

What, Tyler? Who's Tyler?

Tyler, it turned out, was the driver of the van. He had hit his head on the steering wheel when the van crashed into Edward's hand and was bleeding profusely. I could see his eyes rolling back into his head.

The ambulance arrived and some students tried to direct them frantically to the seizing Tyler but they brushed past briskly.

"Got to get to Bella," they said, seriously, "She's the main character here."

Some students protested, but mostly they understood.

They put me in a stupid neck brace to possibly save my life or something, but I was pissed off because between that and the snow-boots, I couldn't look like a bigger doofus.

They brought me to the hospital and put me on a bed. As soon as I had a second alone I ripped off the neck brace because screw my spinal cord I need to look hot as hell while I'm in the emergency room. Well aren't I just the most believable teenager, more concerned about looks than health. They wheeled in another person next to me. I recognized Tyler from my Government class under a mess of bloody bandages. He looked bad, he should get those bandages off, the red and white were totally out of season. He looked at me with dying eyes, and breathed out painfully, "Bella, I'm sorry."

I ignored him and looked at the EMTs who had brought him in, "Um, I'm pretty sure this is a private room."

The EMTs had the audacity to ignore me and left the room to go save other people's lives or something. Douchebags.

"Sorry, iBella, eggs," he said, the head trauma really starting to show.

I stopped talking to him because with this amount of brain damage he could do something crazy, like fall in love with me and ask me to the prom.

A little while later they wheeled me away to X-ray my head. They told me there was clearly something wrong with my brain, but it wasn't from the fall. They put be back in the ER where I was harassed by Tyler's apologies. Well, I assume they were apologies, because he wasn't really making much sense anymore. I tried to tune him out.

"Is she sleeping?" a musical voice asked. My eyes flew open.

Edward was standing at the foot of my bed.

"I'm not sleeping," I told him.

"Oh, sorry, I'll come back later then," he started to leave.

"Wait! Don't go!" I screamed, panicked.

Edward stopped, looked at me confused, then shrugged deciding to just go with it.

"So what's the verdict?" he asked.

"It's going to be guilty when I sue this motherfucker for everything he's worth," I shot a fierce glare at Tyler."

"I mean, how are you feeling?" he elaborated.

Still glaring at Tyler I replied, "Physically I'm fine, but emotionally…I feel like I'm out a million dollars, maybe even two hundred and fifty million dollars."

Tyler started spasming and they wheeled him out of the room.

With the patient in need safely out of the way, the best doctor in the hospital came around the corner. The best doctor, was of course, Edward Cullen's "dad," and Edward Cullen's "dad" was, of course, super pale and superhot, hotter than any doctor I'd ever seen (except maybe on Grey's Anatomy.)

"So, Miss Swan," Dr. Cullen said , "how are you feeling?"

I couldn't look away from his eyes. What were the chances that a family of foster children, completely unrelated to each other would all have the same strange, yellow-colored irises? Maybe they all had some sort of crazy disease they picked up while walking the runway in some exotic location like New Guinea or something.

"I'm fine," I told him.

"Okay, your father's in the waiting room, run along now."

I hopped off the stretcher and immediately collapsed to the ground. Dr. Cullen looked at me with mild concern.

"Don't worry," I said, "It's not from my head."

"Well, take some Tylenol for the pain," he said.

"It doesn't hurt that bad," I told him.

"It sounds like you were lucky."

"Lucky Edward was able to run across the parking lot at lightning fast speed and stop a moving vehicle with his bare hands—excuse me, bare hand."

"Erm…yes," Dr. Cullen said, suddenly engrossed in his papers, "Come back if you have any dizziness or sudden blindness."

I struggled to stand up then stumbled away down the hallway. I can really see why Dr. Cullen is the best, I mean, that Tylenol thing was genius. And I never would have thought to go to the hospital for sudden blindness.

Before I reached the waiting room Edward pulled me aside, "Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked.

"Edward," I said, "You can talk to me for all the minutes."

"I just wanted to clear a few things up. I was standing right next to you before the van hit, I didn't sprint across the whole parking lot, I mean, hehe, that's crazy, right?"

I shook my head, "No…I'm acutely aware of exactly where you are at all times, so I know you were across the parking lot."

"Well you hit your head so you don't know anything."

"Even if you were standing right next to me that doesn't explain how you stopped the van with your hand," I pointed out.

"That was totally normal."

I raised an eyebrow, "And how did you get strong enough to stop a runaway van with one hand?"

"Pillates?"

I shook my head.

"Plot hole?"

He had me there.

"Why did you even bother?" I asked frigidly.

"Bother what?"

"Saving me?"

"I don't know!" he threw up his hands, "And believe me when I tell you no one reading this will know either!"

He turned and walked away from me.

I was so angry I felt dizzy and suddenly couldn't see. A few minutes, or maybe a few hours I really had no sense of time anymore, passed and my senses returned to me, good as they ever were, and I headed out to the waiting room. I didn't see my dad there in the throngs of high school students all truly concerned for my health. I found a note though, left on a chair.

B, dr says ur alright so im going to head back to work. dont cook steak for dinner again. it was gross last night, D.

When I got home I had to call my mom and tell her I was alright. She kept pleading for me to go home but I didn't really care what she wanted anymore because I had a new obsession, Edward. Who was he? Where did he come from? With what modeling agency was he signed? And would he ever love me? I tried to go to sleep, but I couldn't because my head hurt too much. At first I was at a loss for what to do, then I remembered Dr. Cullen's advice and took some Tylenol. It really did help. I drifted off to sleep.

That was the first night I dreamed of Edward Cullen.

It was also the first night I dreamed of Bela Lugosi, and Christopher Lee, and Bram Stoker, and Anne Rice, but that was probably totally unrealated.