–noun
A male parent.
"Hey Bells!" My dad screamed. I groaned and rolled over in my bed, readjusting myself for comfort.
"Bella!!" He repeated, more of a whine this time. I dug my head into my pillow, trying to fall asleep again.
"Isabella Swan!" My father screeched. I turned onto my back and sighed. I could heard Charlie walking up the stairs, stomping slightly.
Oh boy, here we go...
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, but kept my hands draped over my eyelids. I sighed.
"Bella!" My daddy hissed. I turned my head to look at him. "What?" I asked. His emotionless face turned into a frown.
"Bella, it's 1:30. Wake up!" Charlie growled, and sure enough, my bedside clock read: 1:37 pm.
"Dad, what do you want?" I asked sleepily. His sour expression lightened slightly. I raised my eyebrow.
"I'm going down to the lake, you coming?" He asked smugly, like he already knew the answer.
"Hell, yes!" I screamed, jumping off my bed. Charlie just chuckled and walked out of the room.
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"Kay, daddy. I'm ready!" I yelled, running down the stairs. Due to the fact that I have as much balance as baby sitting on a ball – this was a bad decision. I hurled to the ground, and down the last 12 steps of the staircase.
"You okay, Bells?" Charlie asked, his eyes still asphyxiated on his newspaper. I slowly got up and nodded. I've had worse.
I reached up into the into the cabinet, and stuck Pop Tart in my mouth. I walked back to the living room, and plopped down into the love-seat.
"Bella, do you want to take your truck?" Charlie asked, standing up. He began running around the room, taking things and shoving then in his pockets.
"Mm-hm.." I mumbled, still chewing on my chocolate Pop Tart. I quickly shoved the rest of the delicious confection into my mouth, and put my shoes on.
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The lake really was beautiful. Even after the countless times I've been here, it's beauty never ceases to amaze me. I know since I'm seventeen and a girl, it might seem weird that I enjoy fishing. But theres something about the feeling of the rod in your hand, giving you an empowered feeling.( hehe, no dirty pun intended.)
I remember the first time I went fishing with my dad...
I was about 7, and my mom was out with her friends. Charlie had made fishing plans, so he took me with him. At first I didn't really like it, but then I felt a tug. Oh, that tug. Just a small tug, sent my senses into an overdrive. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins, my breath quickening. The tugs adventurously became stronger and stronger. I called Charlie, and he helped me get the fish out of the water.
That day I caught my first fish; a 2 lbs catfish. I felt great, uplifted, almost....euphoric. I've gone fishing with my dad ever weekend since.
"Bells?" Charlie asked. I snapped out of my reverie.
"Yeah?" I called back. Looking at my father who had a smile on his face, and a gorgeous man standing beside him.
Wait,
a gorgeous man?
Well, gorgeous wasn't a good enough description.
This man was a heavenly.
His hair was the most oddest shade of copper, like a penny you'd find on the road, and treasure it just because you found it. It was messy, but in a I-don't-give-a-shit-what-I-look-like-but-I'm-delicious-anyway, way. Ugh, I just wanted to run my hands through it.
His face was pale, but not in a scary way. It was a beautiful alabaster, like snow you'd watch falling out your window – knowing it won't last for long, but enjoying it while it's here. His jaw was angular, but soft at the same time. His nose looked like it had been carved my a famous stone carver. And his eyes.....
Oh, his eyes....
There were such a shocking green – there are no ways to describe them. It looked like there was electricity in them, like a smoldering energy trying to escape. His lashes were long, almost more then normal for a guy. Not that he's a regular guy.
His lips were pouty and oh-so kissable. Their light pink color standing out on his pale face. His mouth was open slightly, viewing his red tongue and the bright shiny white of his teeth. The things I wanted to do with that mouth...ugh.
As I focused on the whole picture of his perfection, my knees went weak.
"Bella, this is Edward." Charlie said sternly, gesturing at the godly figure beside him. Edward smiled, his pearly white teeth gleaming. My heart skipped a beat.
"Nice to meet you, Bella." He said causally, holding out his arm. I clasped in with my own and shook it. A shock ran from my finger tips all the way to my toes. I looked up Edward through my eyelashes. His smile had shrunken, eyes widening. I pulled my hand away.
"Yeah, pleasure to have your company." I said, shyly. His grin had returned, full force.
"Okay, Bells. Why don't you get your rod." Charlie suggested. I looked away from Edward's splendid face, and got my fishing tackle in order.
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"So, like fishing?" He asked. I chuckled. I can already see where this conversation is going.
"Hmm, I might. What would make you think that?" I asked innocently. Gazing at him through my eyelashes. He shifted form one leg to the other.
"Well, the beautiful pole in your hand..." He said. I giggled. His eyes popped out of his head in realization. "uh...that's...uh.." He started spluttering. I laughed him again.
"Don't worry. I think your pole is great too." I teased. He gasped. I turned my head towards him. He looked....uncomfortable. My eyes trailed down his incredible physique, until I got to a certain part on his anatomy.
uh...
"...and apparently so is your tent." I joked. He looked down and groaned. I giggled. This was probably the most I've laughed in one day.
"I'll be back." He mumbled, walking away.
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"So, Bells....how do ya like Edward?" Charlie asked, leaning his fishing rod against the metal railing. I turned my head and smiled.
"He's pretty cool." I said, thinking back to want happened earlier. Which confused me.
"How old is he?" I asked, curiously. One of my eyebrows lifting. Charlie was gazing at the water, his expression impossible to read.
"Thirty two." He said quietly. I gasped. That's not possible! That is so wrong!
"Makes me feel like an old man." My dad laughed. His face softened immensely. Charlie wasn't very old. He had creases on his forehead, and crows-feet. But he still had a full head of hair, and a shining personality.
"Daddy..." I started. He turned his head and looked at me. I shut up.
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"Hey, Edward. You headin' out too?" My father asked. I glanced over to where Edward's stuff was, and he really was packing up.
"Well, it is getting kind of late..." He trailed off. He put his backpack on, holding his rod in one hand – which was in two pieces.
"Why don't you come over? We did catch a lot of fish, Bells can cook them up." Charlie suggested. Edward flashed another one of his amazing smiles.
I'll take that as a yes.
"Dad, can you drive my truck back?" I asked. "I have a headache." I explained. My dad nodded, and got into the cab. Just as was about to step in – Edward cleared his throat.
"Um, Excuse me. But I don't know the directions to your house." Edward announced. I smiled.
"I can ride with you...if that's okay?" I imposed, sweetly. He looked down warmly at me.
"Of course." He said, beautifully.
I smiled and walked over to his car – a silver Volvo from the looks of it. I stepped into the shiny car and grinned, awaiting what was to come form this infatuating stranger.