The next three weeks saw me crying in the basement, spending hours and hours standing under the hot spray of the shower, then finally packing up my stuff and moving. My emotions were raw and things flew everywhere, vibrated, shattered, and even melted, but, with the help of my mom, I regained a big enough portion of my former control to keep things on the shelves.

I didn't return to school after that day and once all the glass was fixed, the incident sort of faded into something resembling an urban myth. James called me once and tried to apologize, saying it was a joke. I was so mad that the phone literally melted in my hand. He never called back.

Home schooling was mentioned during those three weeks I was recovering, but I didn't want to cut myself off from the world. I wanted to be normal, or as normal as I could be. My mom couldn't leave her job though, so that started the talk about me finishing high school in Forks, living with Charlie, my dad. He jumped at the idea, enthused about having me with him indefinitely. So I packed.

The plane ride was okay. I always get a little scared when I have to fly somewhere. It was a testament to my unshakable control being back when nothing took flight as a result of my nerves. I couldn't help but be proud of myself and my ability to bounce back.

Port Angeles appeared below me as the plane descended through the clouds. It was raining and dreary, but my mood was already lethargic so I was okay with the weather matching me. "Bells!" I turned to the voice and saw my dad striding over to me. "Look at you, all grown up." he said, stating the obvious. I resisted the urge to point out that growing was what teenagers did by default.

"Hey dad." I said, accepting his awkward, side hug. It did feel good to see him again, male companionship was seriously lacking in my life. I quickly shook that off before depression reared its ugly head again. Stupid boys.

Charlie spouted off some small talk questions on the way to his house, my early childhood home. Mostly about what I've been up to and how mom was. He didn't touch on the circumstances that brought me here, for which I was grateful. I remember Charlie being a little on edge about my unusualness. "Jacob Black is stoked about seeing you again. You remember him, eh?" he asked me.

Sure I remembered Jacob. We were in daycare together. He used to pull me hair and try to make me cry. He stopped when a rubber ball flew across the room and nailed him in the head. It was me, of course, but the only person who seemed to believe that was Jacob, everyone else blamed Lauren, the jealous little girl with a crush on Jacob. I didn't know what to say so I just nodded and gave a small smile.

It was a bit of a drive from Port Angeles to Forks, but it passed in comfortable silence. At least for me it was comfortable, I could feel the nervous tension emanated off Charlie though. Poor guy didn't know what to say to his teenage daughter that just pulled a Carrie at high school and was now fleeing the scene. I understood and didn't take offense.

The house was exactly as I remembered it. White siding with dark trim. I really did love this house. I had a smile on my face as Charlie and I hauled my one suitcase up the stairs to my room. My old bed was replaced with a new twin bed, the walls had been painted a nice neutral color that brought in the light from the bay window. It was empty save for the bed, dresser and a lamp on the bedside table. "Thanks, dad." I said as Charlie set my suitcase on the bed which was covered in a purple quilt.

"I hope you like the new colors. Miss. Morison at the paint shop told me to paint it this color a couple years ago." he said, seeming to apologize. I remembered the girlish pinky purple it used to be and was grateful for the change. A little pink and purple was okay, too much was just oppressive. "It's great, dad." I assured him.

He gave a little smile and nodded. "Well bathroom is down the hall, my room is over there. You know where the kitchen is and all that." he said, I could tell he was feeling more and more awkward by the second.

So I let him off the hook with a nod and, "I should get unpacked and settled."

He took the cue and left me alone in my new/old room. With a deep breath I began unpacking and hanging up my clothes. All the personal possessions that I brought with me, like my dolphin figurine that I got from my mom and my diary were set carefully on my bedside table. My mom was going to ship me my books in a few days, but I didn't know where I would put them; no bookshelf. The unpacking done, I sat down on my bed and looked around.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't homesick. But if being here would keep me away from that jerk that broke my heart and caused me to break about a dozen windows, then I'd deal. I felt tears threaten, the dolphin figurine started to rattle, my diary flipped open as if a huge gust of wind hit it, and the lampshade shook. Angrily, I wiped the tears away and forced myself to regain control. One stupid boy and I was causing mini earthquakes again!

Hopefully school would go well.

~*~*~*~*~