Alright, so I live in Florida, not Jacksonville, but Orlando, so I'm getting a lot of my inspiration just staring at the ocean. I'm hanging out in a hotel on the beach, stealing the wifi from somewhere around here. I'm in Daytona for my cousin's quince, and then we're leaving for Minnesota! We're waiting to hear back from family while "stuff" happens. That's all I'm allowed to know. Fudged up, if you ask me. Of course, they didn't.
Anyways, whatever with my personal problems! Here's the next chapter of Perfectly Made! Uh, the show part with the coaches is coming soon, so just please be patient! You guys rock…my socks…off! Yeah, so that's why I'm cold? No, I'm freaking hot! I think we're having a heat wave or something. I don't know. I don't watch the weather! ;D
DISCLAIMER: I own 'nuffin! (;
Have you ever been to a Florida beach? You know how in movies there is crystal clear water and pale soft sand? The sun would beat down on your body, warming your skin slightly, while the gentle breeze blew your hair around your face. The sky would be the clearest blue you've ever seen and the humidity wasn't so bad that the actors' hair stayed flat, and didn't poof up like a sheep dog? Or how about the smell? Doesn't Glade have a candle called, Ocean Breeze? I'm pretty sure it smells good.
Yeah, no.
I mean, the beach was nice. The water was different shades of blue and in some places greenish brown. I didn't like to look at those parts. The sand was pale and soft, but also very hot! I blame the sun. There was a light breeze blowing, but it was small and barely did anything, but fan my hair in my face.
An hour ago, this lady passed out; had a heat stroke. They started handing out mini water bottles after that.
And have you ever really smelled a real Ocean Breeze scent? It didn't smell anything like the candle, though. Kinda salty.
Reminded me of fish.
Which, reminded me of Charlie.
Which, reminded me of Forks.
Which, reminded me of things I would not like to think about.
But kinda did anyways.
I tried, but it was always there nagging in the back of my mind. Well, recently. Earlier the thing nagging my mind was Renee.
Turns out, she doesn't like surprises anymore.
I blame Phil.
Anyways, when I made it off the plane—unharmed, thank you—I caught a cab to Renee's. The cab driver gave me a dirty look, but I just ignored him, staring out the window, noticing the bright blue sky, instead of the dreary gray one I'm so used to. I tried to ignore the tug in my chest, so I asked the cab driver if he could turn on some music.
Apparently, I look like the type of person who wants to listen to techno. Definitely not, but I asked him to turn it on and it felt weird to ask him to switch it off, so I bobbed my head, hoping I was in time with the music.
The ride seemed short enough as I stared out the window again, bobbing my head, probably looking like a complete idiot. The street signs passed in a blur, and before I realized it, the cab pulled up to Renee's house.
Renee always liked bright colors and things that made her feel young—a reason I think she married Phil for, other than love, of course—But her house was just…glowing.
And not in a good way.
The bright yellow reminded me of one of those lamps that you put the little chicken egg under, so it will keep the chick warm, because its mother isn't there. Yeah, our school did that in kindergarten. To teach kids responsibility or something. I remember we had scheduled times to watch the egg and make sure it was okay, skipping recess in the process. I still remember my first time watching it…
FLASHBACK
The little girl was extremely nervous. Today, the day of right now, as in, today…yeah, she was dreading it. Her mother assured her it would be fine, as did her father, but none of them mattered, until her best friend said it. After he made sure she knew she would be fine, she felt fine.
For the moment.
Well, really until he walked out of the room, leaving for recess with all the other kids. Of course, they wouldn't leave a child alone in a classroom, so there was always an adult, whether a PTA mom, or a custodian, there was always someone there.
Today, it was Miss. Laird. She was a young lady, maybe mid-twenties, and she had honey-blonde hair. Currently, her class was in lunch, since she was a first grade teacher. Her eyes were a soft blue and they held a kindness that the little girl always loved to see. She hoped that when she was in first grade, this would be her teacher, because you could tell she loved her job.
Today, though, Miss. Laird was busy, working through a stack of papers, while occasionally looking up and making sure the girl was okay. She was, obviously, but she still checked every few minutes.
A few weeks ago, the teacher announced that they would be gaining a new addition to their classroom. Of course, everyone thought it would be a puppy, or maybe even a lizard, but no, it was a little white egg. One kid almost tried to eat it, saying his mommy made eggs like that all the time. The teacher scolded the kid and explained to the rest of the class that after a certain amount of time, the egg would hatch and a baby chick would come out. And we would take care of it until it grew and would be given to the high school kids in the agriculture program. Of course, these big words made no sense to the children, so she just said it was a chicken, earning a chorus of, "Ohhh," which made her chuckle.
The teacher told the children it was very important work and they had to make sure they were responsible enough to handle it. The little girl was excited and so was her best friend, but she was also nervous. What if the egg fell and broke? The baby chick would die and the little girl couldn't live with being a murderer. Her best friend assured her she would be fine, but when her best friend was out of sight, so were his words. Of course, she missed her friend, her only friend, but he didn't seem to mind playing dolls as long as they could race cars later. There's always a compromise.
The classroom door creaked open, snapping the girl out of her memories. She quickly checked the egg to see that it hadn't moved an inch, and then looked at the door.
Her best friend was standing in the doorway; a crooked grin graced his lips while he gave her a thumbs up, and then pointed to the egg. In other words, he said good job. He mouthed the words, "You can do this," before ducking back out the door just as Miss. Laird walked out, a large stack of files in her hand, smiling smugly.
"Well, I'm finish with this and you only have a few minutes left, so why don't you go outside and play?" She asked, smiling brightly, still proud of finishing so much work so quickly. The little girl nodded her head, smiling and racing out the door almost running into her best friend. They smiled at each other before he asked.
"What are you doing? I thought you were supposed to watch the chicken?" His voice was low in a whisper, like it was a conspiracy or something.
"The teacher said I could play for few minutes." She replied smiling smugly. "What are you doing?"
"Waiting…" his reply was vague, but she didn't dwell on that, because the teacher walked up.
"Isabella, what's wrong?"
"Umm…" Miss. Laird decided to walk out then.
"The chicken is hatching," She told the teacher, excitedly. The teacher's eyes widened and she started gathering the kids from recess while the little girl and her best friend watched Paco being born. Well, hatched.
END FLASHBACK
Paco, at first, didn't look like the little baby chickens you see in books. Instead of the fluffy yellow feathers and cute little body, we got a brownish-red one that had its feathers patted down, thinner than I imagined, almost looking as if they were wet. The color of the chick reminded me of His hair, so I loved him, even though he looked like a dirty rat.
After a while, the baby chick grew, earning thicker feathers, its coloring becoming more pronounced, introducing shades of orange and yellow that weren't seen before. Paco wasn't its official name or anything, but me and…we liked to call him that. The teacher and the rest of the class didn't approve, wanting something cuter, like Winnie, or baby, something typical and boring. I forgot what they settled on, but I knew we didn't follow that rule and called him Paco, whispering if someone else was around, always afraid we were going to be in trouble for having a different name.
So young…
If I would've known this is how it would've played out, I would've been different. I wouldn't have been so love-struck. I wouldn't hurt as much as I did now. I could have met someone who could love me back as much as I loved them without fearing the pain of losing both love and friendship.
But look at me now, sitting on the beach in Florida, the waves washing away my pain only to bring it back seconds later.
I was pathetic…
Sigh. Anyways…when I pulled up in front of Renee's house and had one of my "moments" I continued up the pathway, hearing waves soothing in and drifting out, and smelling the fishy scent. The ocean almost calmed me, easing some of the nerves I held on the drive over. I was worried for many reasons, most of them causing worst-case scenarios, like Renee sending me back, or maybe she acted indifferent and forgot who I was, like, "What daughter?"
I know some of them were a little over the top, but no matter how hard I tried; the thoughts wouldn't leave me alone.
The house had a wrap-around porch that I actually loved. The shutters were the whitest white I've ever seen, matching the rail on the porch. The house was blinding in all, but it was Renee. That's all the explanation needed, really.
Dragging my bags up the few steps onto the front porch, I sighed heavily, dropping the bags ungracefully in a heap on the floor. Stepping over the mess I made, I hobbled over to the door, lifting my fingers, hesitating only briefly, before knocking softly three times.
Loud footsteps echoed through the house, coming closer to the door, as well as a voice.
"Renee, we need to leave in ten minutes tops if you want to make it in time. You know how they get when we're late and…" The door swung open, revealing a well-dressed Phil. "Oh, hey…Um, Bella?"
No, Santa Claus.
"Uh, yeah, hey, Phil," I lifted my hand waving half-heartedly. His shocked expression never wavered as the clacking of heels followed him down the hallway.
"Honey, I'm ready. Who's at the door?" She pushed him aside, coming face-to-face with me.
"Hey, mom," Again, I waved shortly. Her face softened, but she looked sad. Why did she look sad? Shouldn't she be happy she had her daughter back? I knew she wouldn't want me here.
"Hey, honey." Her voice wavered slightly, trying to sound cheery. "What are you doing here?"
Gee, mom, I love you, too.
"Um, actually, I was wondering if—." The sound of a phone ringing cut me off and Phil looked over his shoulder quickly walking over to answer the phone, disappearing from my sight. Renee gave me a look to continue. "I was, um, wondering if I could, uh," I was a stuttering mess, that's what I was.
"Isabella, just say it, already. Phil and I have somewhere we need to go." Oh, okay, then. Since when was Renee so blunt? Oh, and since when am I Isabella? I seriously almost did that whole head roll thing, snapping my fingers in a zigzag form. Almost.
Huffing, I replied. "I left Forks to spend my last year with you. I kinda hoped you would be happy, though," I admitted, feeling like a complete idiot.
She scowled. "Isabella," Really, are you serious? "You can't just come to someone's house unannounced and expect me to be happy about it. You didn't even ask. What if I was gone on…I mean what if I didn't want you here right now?" Ouch. I really feel the love radiating off of you, mom.
"Mom, if you don't want me here, I'll leave and be in a motel, but I'm not going back to Forks," I tried to keep the desperation out of my voice, but I could still hear it. "Can you give me directions to the nearest motel or are you going to make me figure out where it is by myself?" I could hear the bitterness in my tone, but at this point I didn't care.
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her pointer finger and thumb. While she was doing this, I backed away, picking my bags bag up, throwing the strap of the duffel bag over my shoulder. "Wait," She sighs. Turning around I see her looking me up and down, checking me for something. I almost had the urge to look and see if there was something on my shirt. She scowled when her eyes reached mine, so I guess she didn't like what she saw. Rolling my eyes, I turned back around, walking down the steps. I heard her footsteps following me. "I said to wait, young lady," Her tone was scolding, but I could hear a faint hint of disgust.
Why is she acting like a bitch?
"Mom, I heard you, okay, but I'm not going to be here if you don't want me. I'm sorry for invading on your perfect worry-free life. I really am, but I just had too many problems in the last twenty-four hours to deal with you, too, so say what you have to say, because I should leave so I can get a room." She seemed taken aback by my outburst, but I just waited patiently for her to speak.
Her shock wore off eventually and she sighed, smoothing an invisible wrinkle in her dress. "Do you want something to drink?" The question was so unexpected, I blanched. In my moment of shock, she grabbed hold of one of my bags, bringing it inside with her, leaving me standing at the bottom of the stairs in shock. "Are you coming inside? You can stay in the guest room, it has the best view." Renee called from inside. Shaking my head, I walked up the steps slowly, not feeling comfortable enough to just waltz in, so I crawled at a snail's pace, trying to prevent the inevitable. Renee appeared in the doorway then, watching me curiously.
I knew she was now itching to figure out what I was really doing here, but she didn't say anything aloud, yet.
"So, why are you really here?" Took sooner than I thought.
"Um," Finally walking through the threshold, I noticed Phil ending his phone call. He walked over to us, wrapping his arms around Renee's waist.
"Bella," He nodded towards me, then leaning in to whisper—loudly, I might add—into her ear. "We really have to go, now." His voice was demanding and I almost told him not to talk to my mom like that, but she just smiled and nodded her head, unwrapping his arms around her and linking an arm with me.
"Of course, just let me show Isabella to her room," Your husband—my step-father—calls me Bella, but you can't? What the fudge. Phil's eyebrows shot up, but Renee shot him a warning glance. Nodding towards Phil, we walked through the hallway, towards a set of stairs that were next to the back door, in the kitchen. The back door was open, but the screen was closed, so I could see the ocean through the grainy screen.
Leading me up the stairs she pointed out different rooms, like the bathroom, the second guest room, their room, and finally my room. The walls in the hallway were a duller version of the white outside, so the inside wasn't as bright as the outside. An array of photos were littered all over the walls, most f them from weddings and vacations that I didn't know they went on. Each one had a story that Renee had to share.
By the time we made it to my room, I could write a book of the past few years of my mom's life.
"And this is your room," She opened a door at the end of the hall. "It faces the beach and has a balcony and everything! The closet is decent size and the room is quite large, I think you'll like it." She rambled on as I walked in setting my bag on the large queen size bed in the middle. The room was a soft baby blue, with streaks of white, making it look like a sky with clouds, or a wave when it breaks. The bed looked soft and plush, with a white duvet covering the top. The pillow cases were light blue and the closet door was white. There was a set of French doors leading out into the balcony which reminded me of some kind of fairytale. The dressers were plain white, one short and long and the other skinny and tall. There were two small nightstands on each side of the bed. There was still enough room for about ten people to stand in here comfortably.
The room was three times the size I had in Forks, but somehow it didn't feel like home.
"Renee!" Phil called from downstairs. "We really have to get going!" He seemed stressed and something told me he didn't want me here.
"Coming!" She yelled back, before turning back to me. "Okay, so if you need anything, you have my number. I've got to go, but make yourself at home. We'll be back late, so you can make yourself dinner or something." She seemed distracted and started straightening her dress and hair before saying goodbye and walking downstairs.
Well, now what do I do?
Checking over my shoulder back at the balcony, I decided to hang out on the beach for a while. Running my hand through my hair, I could feel the oil thick in my hair and felt gross from not showering in more than a day. Checking the hallway closet for a towel, I grabbed a fluffy white one that looked big enough and found my way to the bathroom Renee pointed out. Turning the water to the right temperature, I climbed in letting the water cascade down my back, relaxing under the hot spray.
Once the water started to run cold, I shut off the water, reaching out for my towel, wrapping my body up as much as I could. The towel was fluffy, like really big. Standing in front of the mirror, I wiped off the steam and looked at myself, really checked myself out.
I didn't know who this person was. How did I become this? My hair was matted around my head, dripping down my back, limply hanging there. My skin looked soft and pale, but chubby cheeks. My dark brown eyes stood out from my pale skin and I cast my eyes elsewhere. My body was shapeless under the towel, but the portion of my legs that peeked out from under the towel were thick and pale, also. Backing away some, I examined the way my legs rubbed together when I walked, or how pasty they looked.
Sighing, I wrapped the towel tighter around myself before exiting the bathroom, turning off the light as I left.
Back in my room, I pulled out my duffel bag, setting it on my bed. Unzipping it, I realized all I had was jeans and sweaters. Maybe even a few t-shirts, but mostly winter clothes. Groaning, I shuffled through everything until I found underwear and a bra, along with a pair of sweatpants and a Forks high junior t-shirt. Not even bothering with shoes, I padded back downstairs and out the back door onto the back porch. Walking down the few steps, my feet felt the soft sand mixed with stray pieces of grass and small bushes here and there.
There were a few families just hanging out on the beach over here and I guessed it was the people who live in the other houses, because there weren't many out, though it was a warm sunny day, perfect for a trip to the beach.
The other people stared at me as I walked down the pathway into the open, probably wondering who the newbie was.
Would it be weird to wave?
Yeah, I thought so, too.
Walking little ways, I still settled near the back, people watching near the grassier areas.
So, here I was, thinking about things I didn't want to think about, probably getting sunburn from just sitting here, and absolutely alone.
Well…0.o
What do you think? Renee will be bitchy now, but there's a reason, so don't hate her, yet! Uh, review? Speak Bella is coming soon, as well as The Cullen's and Bella read New Moon, so watch out for those! (:
-Bianca