hey guys! here it is, chapter one! hope you enjoy it!
let it be known that: I DO NOT OWN THE TWILIGHT CHARACTERS OR PERFECT CHEMISTRY BY SIMONE ELKELES! I merely change the words around a bit and add the Twilight characters in but I'M NOT STEALING, CLAIMING, OR COPYING THIS WITHOUT GIVING CREDIT TO WHO WROTE IT (which was simone elkeles)!
Perfectly Un-Perfect
Chapter 1
Welcome to My Life by Simple Plan
Do you ever feel like breaking down?
Do you ever feel out of place?
Like somehow you just don't belong
And no one understands you
Do you ever wanna runaway?
Do you lock yourself in your room?
With the radio on turned up so loud
That no one hears you screaming
No you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels all right
You don't know what it's like
To be like me
To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life
Do you wanna be somebody else?
Are you sick of feeling so left out?
Are you desperate to find something more?
Before your life is over
Are you stuck inside a world you hate?
Are you sick of everyone around?
With their big fake smiles and stupid lies
While deep inside you're bleeding
No you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels all right
You don't know what it's like
To be like me
-&-
Renesmee POV
Hello, I'm Renesmee and I'm perfect. My face is perfect, my body is perfect, my social life is perfect, my home life is perfect…
And even though it's all a lie, I've worked damn hard to make it seem that way. If the truth were to get out, the picture perfect life I've worked on my whole life would be ruined.
Simple Plan is blasting through the speakers of my stereo, while I try to put on my mascara. My hand is shaking, making this easy task a real hassle. I shouldn't be nervous. Seeing my year-long boyfriend for the first time since June shouldn't be making me nervous. Neither should be starting my last and final year of school.
And yet, it is.
Because frankly, I've gotten off to a bad start. My naturally curly, copper-brown hair decided it wanted to be curly today instead of straight. Then the button of my favorite button-up shirt popped off. And now, there's more mascara on my upper lid, than my actual eyelashes. I lick the pad of my thumb and rub it over the lid to get rid of it all without messing up my eyelashes which were now, long, thick and black, almost reaching my eyebrows.
"Renesmee, could you come down here?"
My first instinct is to ignore her, but doing that never gets me anywhere.
My mother, Renee Swan, is short tempered and I'm not really in the mood for a screaming match this morning.
"I'll be down in a minute!" I holler back, then sigh when I turn back to the mirror. It's funny how people can honestly look at me and think 'perfection.'
I run a hand through my long, thick locks that are thankfully now straight and hanging almost too my waist, and grab my Victoria's Secret tote bag I just bought to carry my books in, and head for the stairs.
"Did you double check?" My mother calls from somewhere distantly in the house.
Scowling darkly, I drop my bag to the tile bathroom floor with a thud and double, then tripple check my reflection in the mirror.
Did I mention my mom has appearance issues too?
"Beauty is everything." A saying my mother taught me at age eleven when my body started changing.
Sighing again, I grab my bag off the floor and make my way down the stairs. My mother is standing at the bottom scrutinizing my outfit, especially my purposely torn Abercrombie jeans. I straighten a bit.
I know, I know.
I'm eighteen, why should I listen to her, right? But I have my reasons, and one of them is because of my sister. I have a responsibility to make up for her… lack of perfection… according to my mother.
"Love the belt, hate the jeans," My mother glances me over when I reach the bottom step. "And thank goodness you turned that awful noise down; it was giving me a migraine."
"Good morning to you too, mother," I say as I lean over and kiss her cheek. Her strong, floral perfume burns my nostrils when I inhale. She already looks like a million bucks in her Ralph Lauren Blue Label tennis dress and her pale blue eyes standing out against her shoulder length, light brown hair.
"I bought you a muffin for your first day," She pulled a brown bag from behind her back.
"No thanks," I say as I glance around the room. "Where's Bella?"
"In the kitchen."
"Is her new caretaker here yet?"
"Her name is Sherice, and no."
"Did you tell her about how Bella hates the feeling of wool? Or that she pulls hair?" Bella used her nonverbal ways to lead us to the fact that wool irritates her skin. The hair pulling, well, that started just recently, a new disaster in the making. And disasters here are about as pretty as a car accident. Avoiding them is crucial.
"Yes. And yes. We don't want the same thing that happened last time to occur again. I gave your sister an earful this morning. If she keeps this up, we'll need another new caretaker…" My mother prattles on.
I've heard it all before, so I tune her out.
I walk into the kitchen and find Bella sitting at the table, in her wheelchair, eating her specially blended food, because even at the age of twenty, she can't chew and swallow without the physical limitations. As usual food has found its way all over her face, everywhere but her mouth.
"Hey Shell-Bell," I say smiling, then grab a napkin to wipe her face. "It's my first day of school. Wish me luck."
Bella holds out her jerky arms and smiles up at me. I love that smile.
"You want to give me a hug?" I ask grinning, knowing she does. Her brown eyes, a replica of mine, shine bright with happiness when she nods her head. The doctor says the more interaction she gets, the better off she'll be.
I lean down and hug Bella's fragile body and carefully keep her hands away from my hair. When I stand up, my mom gasps. Her intake of breath sounding like a referee's whistle halting the game called my life.
"Renesmee, you can't go to school like that." My mother glances at my shirt with a deep frown.
"Like what?"
"Look down," She sighs frustrated.
When I glance down at my white Calvin Klein shirt I notice a wet spot. Bella must have drooled a bit when I hugged her. I looked over and saw Bella's lower lip tremble when my mother scowled and went to get a wet paper towel. Her poor, apologetic expression causing a pain in my heart.
"It's cool, no biggie, Belly," I grace her with the nickname I used to call her when I was little and couldn't pronounce her name right. She always smiled at it. And does now.
My mom comes bustling back into the room with the towels to dab my shirt. It makes me feel like a three-year-old. "I'll get you another shirt."
"Mom, its fine." I'm treading water carefully; the last thing I want is a creaming fit over a shirt with a wet spot on it. Accidents happen. Besides, I'm glad it was Bella's and not someone else's.
"Renesmee, you don't want people thinking you don't care about your appearance."
"Whatever." I want to yell that 'I don't care' but I clamp my mouth shut. I'm the perfect daughter: good children are to be seen, not heard. They do as they're told.
"I'll see you after school, to finish our checker tournament. I'm so going to beat you." I grin at Bella and give her a kiss on her curly brown hair, making sure she doesn't think her drool bothers me or grosses me out.
I run back up the steps, taking two at a time and check my alarm clock in my room. Crap. It's ten after seven. Bree, my best friend, is going to flip out if I'm late picking her up. Grabbing a deep blue colored scarf out of my closet, I pray it will work. It does. When I tie it just right, no one can see the little drool mark.
When I come back down the stairs, my mother is there scanning my appearance, much to my irritation. "Love the scarf."
Phew. One less screaming match, saved by the pretty little blue scarf.
As I pass her, she shoves the muffin into my hand. "Eat it on the way there."
I take it. On my way to my car, a Mercedes Guardian (my eighteenth birthday present), I absently bite into the muffin. Unfortunately, it's not blueberry, my favorite. It's banana nut and the banana is overdone.
It sorta reminds me of myself- seemingly perfect on the outside, but on the inside, it's all mush.
Jacob POV
"Get up, Jacob."
I scowl up at my little brother and bury my head under my pillow. Sharing my room with two thirteen-year-old twin brothers really sucks. There's no escape except the little privacy a lone pillow can give.
"Leave me alone, Collin," I say roughly into the mattress. "Piss off."
"I'm not fuckin' with you, man. Dad told me to wake you up so you won't be late for school."
Senior year. I should be proud: being the first man in the Black family to graduate high school. My dad came close, but dropped out halfway through his junior year and took over the family business, managing our family auto shop, the Eclipse Werewolves Auto Body.
But when I think about school and after graduation, I know real life will start. College is just a dream. Graduating for me is like retirement. You can do more but everyone expects you to quit.
"I'm wearing my new clothes," Collin states proudly, his muffled voice coming through my pillow. "All the ladies won't be able to resist this Quileute stud."
I snort under my pillow.
"Dad said to pour this cup of water on you if you don't get up."
Was some privacy too much to ask for? I chuck my pillow over at him. It's a direct hit. The water splashes all over him.
"Shit!" Collin yelps. "These are the only new clothes I got!"
A fit of laughter comes from the bed opposite of mine. My other brother, Brady, is laughing at Collin like a freakin' hyena. That is until Collin jumps him. I watch the fight spiral out of control, as they punch and kick each other.
They're good fighters, I think proudly as I watch them duke it out. But since I'm the biggest male in the house, it's my duty to break them up. I grab Collin's shirt collar but trip on Brady's leg and land on the floor with them.
Before I can regain my balance, ice cold water is poured on the bare, heated skin of my back. I jump and curse, turning around quickly to see my father, sitting in his wheelchair, gripping a bucket in his fist dousing us all. He's dressed in his everyday clothes, jeans and a t-shirt, his long black hair pulled back in a low ponytail. He doesn't have to dress for work because obviously he's handicapped.
He has been for ten years now. And he got that way from trying to save her.
"Get up," My father demands in his low, gravelly voice.
The three of us stand up, straight and tall. I tower over all three of them making me feel like I have more of an advantage.
Then the scowl on my father's weathered face shifts my mood, making me feel three inches tall.
"There will be no more fighting in my house. Understood?" Ever since ten years ago my father doesn't tolerate fighting or violence of any kind.
"Yes, sir." Three soldiers solute him, including me.
"Jacob?" My father motions for me to bend down to be face to face with him. I cautiously do and find him grinning. It throws me off guard, so I didn't expect what came next.
Crack!
My father's large hand whacked me up the backside of my head.
"Ouch!" I yelp, and pathetically rub the spot he hit.
"That's for not breaking up the fight sooner," He rumbles, his dark eyes narrowing at me.
Brady and Collin start to giggle until my father turns his scowling eyes on them. They stop abruptly.
"Now get dressed and come have breakfast before school." My father wheels himself out of our room and the conversation is over.
After a quick shower, I walk back into my bedroom with a towel wrapped around my waist. I catch sight of Brady with one of my bandannas on his head and my gut clenches. I yank it off him. "Don't ever touch this again, Brady."
"Why not?" Brady asks, his hazel eyes, just like hers, all big and innocent looking.
To Brady, it's a bandanna. To me, it's a symbol of what is and will never be. Of what I'm stuck in. It's not a secret the bandanna has the Pack symbol on it. Payback and revenge got me in and now there's no way out. But I'd die before I let one of my brothers get sucked in.
"Brady, don't touch my shit. Especially my Pack stuff."
"I like wolf symbols in black."
"If I ever catch you touching this again you'll be wearing an eye in black. And blue. Got it, little brother?"
"Yeah, I got it." He shrugs.
Hearing him say he liked wolf symbols in black was the last thing I wanted to hear. When he leaves the room with a spring in his step I wonder if he really does get it. I try not to dwell on it for too long and grab a black t-shirt and my faded, tore-up jeans from my dresser and pull them on. Carefully I tuck my bandanna into my pocket: I'm not supposed to wear it around my dad.
Well there's nothing he can do about it anyways. He's the one who got you into this. A voice thinks bitterly in my head. He's got a point. It is my dad's fault, he knows I'm stuck in this now, but he doesn't want to think about it. Well he better get used to it, that's your future.
I reach up to pull my hair and remember most of it is gone. I had to get it all cut off this past summer when I turned eighteen. A Pack tradition.
"Jacob, come eat!"
"Dad, first: I'm not hungry. And second: would it kill you to call me Jake?" I grumble as I walk into our small kitchen.
"Don't you like that name you were given?" My father's voice is sharp.
I cringe. My mother named me Jacob and never called me Jake.
"Jacob is your name, and I will call you by your name, Jacob."
I remembered her soothing, alto voice so clear in my memory, my throat constricts.
"I'm gonna get going," I choke out quietly and then clear my throat gruffly, grabbing my black leather jacket off the chair.
I ruffle Brady's chin length black hair and pat my dad's shoulder on my way out. I only wave at Collin, whose black eyes were narrowed at me as he sits at the table in his underwear while his clothes are in the dryer.
When I walk out the door, I watch the guys on the street as they flag the Pack signal: right hand tapping twice on their upper right arm, where our symbol is tattooed permanently for life. My blood boils as I do the signal back and wonder how I'm going to keep Collin and Brady off my path while steering them to a better one. Oh the fucking irony of it all.
I straddle my motorcycle, the one I built from a bike I saved at the junkyard. I spent two years fixing it up in the shop and now it looked brand new and kickass. They want a tough-as-nails Pack member, they got one. I put on a hell of a show for the outside world: I even surprised myself sometimes.
"Jake, wait up!" A very familiar female voice calls.
Leah Clearwater, my ex girlfriend and neighbor, runs up to me.
"Leah," I mutter and nod.
"Give me a ride to school?"
Her short black miniskirt shows off her smooth, copper colored, long legs and her shirt is tight, showing off her long, slim waist and perky breasts. Once, I would have done anything for her. But that was before I caught her in another guy's bed over the summer. Well, car actually.
"Come on, Jake. I won't bite… unless you want me too… again."
Leah is my Pack sister. Whether we're a couple or not, I've got her back and she's got mine. It's the code we live by. "Hop on," I say.
Leah hops on my motorcycle, deliberately placing her hands on my thighs and pressing her chest into my back. It doesn't have the effect she was hoping for. What the hell is she on? Does she honestly think I'll forget the past?
Bullshit.
I try to focus on starting my senior year at Forks, the here and now. It's damn difficult because unfortunately after graduation my future will likely turn out like my past.
Renesmee POV
I fidget with my hair, looking at my reflection in my rearview mirror.
"Renesmee, will you stop? You look like a freaking bronze haired Greek Goddess. Are you nervous about seeing Nahuel again?"
My gaze wonders to the heart shaped picture of me and Nahuel taped to my dashboard. "Summers change people."
"Distance makes the heart grow fonder," Bree throws back. "You're captain of the cheer squad and he's captain of the Varsity football team. You two have to date or the solar system would go out of alignment!"
Nahuel called a few times over the summer from his family's cabin where he and his friends were hanging out. But I don't know where we stand now; he just got back last night.
"So how's Bella?" Bree asks politely when I don't answer to her previous comment. I'm lucky to have her because other than Nahuel, no one knows about Bella. She might not understand but she knows enough to listen and keep my home life confidential.
"She just got a new caretaker."
"What happened to the last one?"
"Bella pulled a chunk of her hair out."
"Ouch."
I drive into the high school parking lot with my mind more on my sister then the road. My wheels screech to a stop when I almost hit a guy and a girl on a motorcycle, I thought it was an empty parking space.
"Watch where you're going, bitch," Leach Clearwater, the girl on the motorcycle, said as she flipped me the finger.
She obviously missed the Road Rage lecture in Drivers Ed.
"Sorry," I say loudly so they can hear me over the motorcycle's engine.
Then I realize whose motorcycle it belongs too. The driver twists around.
Angry dark eyes. Black bandanna.
I slump down in the driver' seat as low as I can.
"Oh, shit. It's Jake Black," I whisper, wincing.
"Jesus, Ness, I'd like to be able to have the chance to live through the rest of my life. Get outta here before he kills us both!" Bree hisses.
Jake is still glaring at me with the Devil's eyes. He puts the kickstand down.
I frantically search for reverse. Yeah, my dad would buy me a car with a stick shift and not teach me how to drive it.
Jake takes a step toward the car.
"Bree, help me!" I whisper, panicking.
But Bree is searching through her purse looking for nothing in particular. Her tatic on avoiding eye contact with people.
Finally grinding into reverse, my wheels screech loudly as I back up and search for another parking space.
After parking at the end of the lot, away from a certain Pack member whose reputation could scare off Forks entire football team, Bree and I walk up the steps of Fork's High School. My luck, Jake and the rest of his members are hanging out by the front doors. Bree tosses her hair and leans toward me,
"Just keep walking. Whatever you do, don't make eye contact."
It's pretty hard not too when Jake Black steps right in front of me and blocks my path.
What's the prayer you say when you know you're going to die?
"You're a lousy driver," Jake says in a voice a lot deeper then it was last spring when the students of La Push were sent to go to school here after their school "mysteriously" burnt down.
He looks different too.
His russet colored skin is darker, his crow black hair, that used to be past his shoulders, is now cropped short and looks like a faux hawk, his cheekbones, chin, and jaw are sharper with no child roundness left behind, and he now stands at a jaw dropping 6'4 with a I-AM-THE-MAN stance.
Okay so he might look like an Abercrombie model with his ripped bod and flawless face, but lets' face it ladies, his picture is more likely to be taken for a mug shot.
The kids from the North (us) and the kids from La Push don't really mix. It's not that we think we're better than them, we're just different. And I'm not saying it's good or bad, it's just how it is. How it has been since the Quileutes and the Nomads (Nahuel's family) first came to Forks. And to be honest I'd rather not be friends with them. The La Push girls treat me like Leah treats me. They hate me because of who I am.
Or, really, who they think I am.
Jake's gaze slowly moves down my body like he's just recognizing my changes too. Like the way my 5'5 figure grew a bit more slender and soft, my hips curvier and legs longer. His gaze travels back up to my face, which has also lost most of its baby fat but is still heart shaped and blushing.
It's not that guys have never checked me out before, I've just never had guys like Jake do it so blatantly… and so up close. My face gets hotter when his eyes linger a bit longer than necessary on my chest, which is now a full cup size bigger too.
"Next time, just watch where you're goin'," He says, his voice cool and controlled.
I realize he's trying to bully me. He may be pro at this but I won't let him win this game of intimidation, even if it feels like my stomach is going to fall out of my butt. I stand taller and raise my chin defiantly, clenching my jaw as I sneer at him. The same sneer I use to push people away. "Thanks for the tip."
"If you ever need a real man to teach you how to drive, I can give you lessons."
The catcalls and whistles from his buddies set my blood boiling.
"If you were a real man, you'd open the door for me instead of blocking my way," I throw back, barely listening as his friends "ooo" and "burn!" around us.
Jake takes a step back, pulls open the door and bows like he's my butler. He's mocking me.
Asshole.
I glance at Bree for some moral support, but she's still digging through her purse. She's clueless.
"Get a life," I sneer.
"Like you?" He laughs harshly. "Lemme tell you something, girl, your life isn't reality. It's fake. Just like you."
"It's better than living my life as a criminal," I lash out hoping my words sting as much as his did. "Just like you."
I grab Bree's arm and pull her towards the open door. Wolf whistles and comments follow us.
"Holy shit, Ness. You got a death wish or something?"
"Bree, what gives him the right to bully everyone in his path?"
"Um, oh, I don't know, Ness, maybe the fact that he probably keeps a loaded gun on him at all times?"
I roll my eyes at her. "Bree, please be serious. It's senior year! There's no way in hell I'm going to let some loser from the Pack ruin it. I'm not going to put up with his shit anymore."
"Well I'll make sure to make the funeral arrangements soon," Bree mocks sarcastically.
"Who died?" A new voice says behind us. But I'd recognize that voice anywhere.
"Is that Nahuel Nomad?" I joke and turn smiling as he pulls me tightly to him and kisses me chastely on the lips.
Nahuel continues to hold me close to him as we pull away. I recognize his skin, tanner than it was in June, his hair a very, very dark brown now sun-bleached to a light brown, and his eyes the color of teak. He grins down at me, he's about seven inches taller than me, and I watch his lips widen across his teeth. Again he asks, "Who died?"
"Nobody, forget it. Forget everything but me in your arms, right now."
"It's easy too when you look so damn hot," Nahuel replies grinning again before kissing me once more but longer this time.
I smile up at him, glad the summer hasn't changed us at all. The solar system is safe, for now at least.
Nahuel drapes his arm around my shoulders as the front doors open and Jake and his friends burst in as if they're about to hijack the school.
"Mutts," Nahuel mumbles. "Half of them will probably drop out before the year is over anyway."
They all glare at Nahuel and he glares at all of them. Their families are ridiculous if you ask me. When my gaze briefly meets Jake's, I look away first and shiver.
"I almost hit Jake Black's motorcycle this morning," I tell Nahuel when Jake is out of ear shot.
"You should have."
"Nahuel," I chide.
"At least it would have been an exciting first day. This school is boring as shit."
Boring?
I almost got in a car accident, was flipped off by a girl from the Reservation, harassed by a dangerous Pack member outside the school's front doors and almost had my best friend plan a funeral for me.
If that was any indication of the rest of senior year, this school year will be anything but boring.
okay guys, so whatdoya think? is this worth continuing or am i wasting my time? keep in mind this is only the first chapter, it gets better..
but honestly, its your opinion that matters most. please leave a review. I NEED TO KNOW!
thanks for reading(:
