Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.
Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!
I've created a blog for this story. It's still pretty empty but you can find the outfit Bella wears in this chapter as well as a handy family tree of the Masen family on there. In time it will also contain character bios, music mentioned in this story and some other stuff that inspired me.
2.
The girl
Sea-Tac Airport, September 2011
"Edward?" Hearing his name, Edward looked up, his duffel bag slamming against his hip as a suit-clad man rushed past him, screaming into his cell phone, as he recognized the woman standing a few feet away from him immediately, even though they hadn't seen each other for years. "Is that you?"
"Esme!" Edward smiled, crossing the distance to hug his older sister; the one who, unlike Charlotte, had always stood by him, even when he didn't deserve it. "You haven't changed a bit," he added. She was one of the few members of his family, apart from Carmen, Alice and Tanya, although they'd divorced, who had always accepted him for who he was and…and he'd missed her. More than he would ever admit.
"Flatterer!" she grinned, swatting his shoulder. "It's been five years, Ned. Of course I've changed."
"Well, only for the better then!" Edward joked, wrapping his arm around Esme's shoulder as they walked out of Sea-Tac's main terminal. "It appears small town living agrees with you."
"What can I say?" Esme chuckled, directing him to the spot where her car was parked. "All that mud has to be good for the skin. You look like hell, though."
"Thanks a lot!" Edward smirked, repaying his sister's 'kindness' by messing up her hair, just like he'd done when they were kids. And from the look in her eyes, she still hated it as much as she had back then. "I figured since I've actually been through hell, I might as well look the part. By the way, why is it that all the women in my life turn out to be complete bitches?"
"Because you need us to take you down a notch or two when your head threatens to grow too big for your shoulders!" Esme quipped, though the smile she managed to plaster onto her face didn't reach her eyes.
If her brother only knew just how worried she had been about him, he would have beaten himself up about the whole damn thing even more than he already was. She knew him, hell, she realized full well that she was probably one of a very short list of people who actually did know the real Edward. Therefore she knew how hard it was to get him to admit anything to himself, least of all to others. Hovering over him like a bad rash would have been the worst she could do, no matter how much she'd wanted to be by his side. No, he would have pushed her away before she could well and truly reach for him.
As it was, all she could do was be determined to help him conquer whatever demons he was facing and go back to the cocky jackass she knew and loved so well (even though he'd once put ink in her drink right before she had a date with the guy she had been secretly crushing on for months). She'd help him get through this in whatever way he needed from her.
"Don't worry. I think dad's more than willing to do the honors," Edward muttered bitterly.
"Huh?" Esme looked up in confusion, her gloomy line of thought disrupted by her brother's voice.
"Cut me down to size?" Edward offered. "I felt about two feet tall when I left his office this morning."
"This is us," Esme announced. Stopping in front of a swanky black Mercedes. "And you know he's an asshole who doesn't even care about his own kids unless there's something in it for him or Masen Industries. I don't even know why you bothered swinging by the old place anyway." She shot him a pointed look over the car's roof before sliding into the driver's seat. "You knew it was going to happen."
"It's not like I had a choice," Edward grumbled. "Besides, after all the cash he laid out to keep me employed, I figured the least thing I could do was drop by and let him hack into me for old times' sake."
"All the cash he laid out for himself, you mean," Esme huffed, throwing the car in reverse and navigating it smoothly out of the parking lot. "By the way, I'm so calling bullshit on Tanya for going along with it."
"Keep out of it, Es," Edward warned. "I know you never liked her but I did. I still do."
Esme shrugged. "Suit yourself." She'd always known her brother was making a mistake by marrying Tanya, even if it might have been the honorable thing to do at the time. They were friends, good friends, nothing more. Marrying…it could have only led to heartbreak.
And it had, though Esme was the last person on earth to point that out to her brother. Being as it was, she just felt incredibly sorry for them, though she'd rather insert hot needles into her eyeballs than admit that last feat.
Silence fell over the siblings as Esme got caught up in the congested midday traffic around Seattle. A string of curses fell from her lips as other drivers got in her way, the mellow jazz pouring from the radio taking Edward miles away as the cityscape flashed by.
His sister had always been something of an idol for Edward, being the only one who'd successfully broken free of the Masen chokehold. She'd grown up just like him; privileged and overprotected. Their father tried to mold her into the vision he had for her future, which in her case had been a marriage to one of his business associates to further the glory of the family name. For the most part, she'd acted out her part to perfection, hating every minute of it but not quite knowing how to break free. All that changed when she turned eighteen.
He'd never known the particulars of it, since held been away at summer camp at the time, but he knew something had gone terribly wrong during a date with one of the men his father had handpicked for his daughter and, judging by the outcome, his father had not taken the side he should have picked; the side of his child.
It had been the last night Esme had spent under her father's roof, taking off the next morning, before anyone was up. She'd set off on a journey across the globe, staying in touch only with the little brother she felt bad for leaving behind in that viper's nest, before finally settling down in rural Washington where she'd met the love of her life.
Their father had been displeased, to say the least, cut Esme off from her trust fund and refused to even meet her husband or welcome them for the holidays in the hopes it would pull her back into the fold. Esme, true to her free spirited character, hadn't given a shit about the money or her father's disapproval and just kept doing what she'd always done: live her life the way she wanted.
"So tell me about this town you're living in," Edward spoke, breaking the silence as the car veered across the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, crossing the border between the mainland and the peninsula. "Do you guys make a habit of naming towns after kitchen utensils?"
"Us guys?" Esme snorted. "What do you mean? Us uncivilized rednecks? Jeez, Ned, biased much?"
"So no neighboring town of Spoons, I guess?" Edward mock pouted. "And, by the way, you know better than to call me Ned. I hate it."
"I know!" Esme chuckled. "I figured it was safer than calling you, Eddie, though. Last time I did that, you put salt in my coffee instead of sugar."
"You deserved it!" Edward huffed, though inwardly he loved their light banter. It reminded him of the old days. The good days, before everything had gone tits up in his life. "Besides, I have a perfectly good first name; no abbreviations needed. I suggest you use it."
"And ruin my dirty little fantasies about Edward Rochester?" Esme gasped. "Never!"
"Ewww, Es, would you mind?" Edward cried. "It's bad enough that I have to live under the same roof as you and Carlisle, knowing some of the crazy shit you got up to." He cringed, remembering some of their more candid Skype sessions where, in lieu of girlfriends close enough to share that shit with, Esme had foisted the stories of her carnal experiences on her unsuspecting brother. "I don't want to know about your dirty, little fantasies!"
"Suit yourself," Esme sang, shrugging her shoulders as the landscape around them slowly started to change as they traveled further away from Seattle.
"So…Forks?" Edward tried again. He wanted to know something about the place he was going to spend the next six months of his life in. He'd done a bit of internet research while he was still in rehab but, apart from some generic town-council-and-local-business-association site, there hadn't been much out there that could tell him what it was actually like to live there, other than the fact that it was small and far, far away from the rest of the world. "What's it like?"
Esme smiled, her eyes softening as she thought about her hometown and how it had grown on her, even though she never expected it would. "It's nice."
"Nice?" Edward's smirk of irony made her giggle as he looked at her with one brow arched and his apparent amusement reflected in his vibrant green eyes. She remembered all too well that, not too long ago, those same eyes had been dull and filled with self-hate and regret.
"Yes," she answered, trying not to let her emotions show in her voice. "Nice. It's a great town to live in, though I suspect you may probably need some time adapting, being a full-blooded city slicker and all."
"I take offense!" Edward called out in mock indignation. "Just because I grew up in the city doesn't mean that I couldn't survive anywhere else."
"Oh puh-lease!" Esme snorted. "You and your fancy, little doctor's hands wouldn't hold up for one day in the forest. Your tie would get stuck somewhere or your new designer loafers would get ruined by mud and you'd be calling dad to air-lift you out of there before the hour was up!"
"I don't wear loafers, Es," Edward pressed, just wanting his sister take note of the fact he hadn't turned into a complete drone. "Ever."
"You would have, if dad had been able to sink his claws in you for a little longer,' Esme countered, her words holding far too much truth in them for comfort. "Don't worry, little brother," she continued, chuckling as she patted his leg over the center console. "I'll exorcise the 'dad' out of you in the next couple of months even if it kills me. The old man won't know what hit him when you get back."
"He wouldn't if you came with me," Edward tried, knowing full well the chances of that ever happening where slim to none.
"In your dreams, Ned!" Esme huffed, the car accelerating as it crossed the Hood Canal Bridge. "I've burned all my bridges behind me a long time ago and I'm not nearly masochistic enough to stick my head back into that hornet's nest."
"I know," Edward muttered, his hand squeezing his sister's over the gear stick as the low purr of the car and the soft tunes coming from the radio lulled them back into another silence.
"Anyway," Esme went on, pushing the past and all its disconcerting memories aside, "the people are mostly really down to earth. Most of them are your typical blue-collar families, the majority of them working either at one of the sawmills outside town or hauling logs from the logging camps to the mills…"
"So, Forks really is the logging capital of America," Edward chuckled, remembering the town's nickname.
"Yep," Esme grinned, "so no hating on the huge amount of bare, polished woodwork you'll find around town or they'll chase you off!"
"Noted!" The image of a bunch of sturdy looking lumberjacks carrying axes and saws as they ran him out of town appeared in Edward's mind, making him smile, though be it a little uncomfortably.
"They're mainly harmless, though," Esme jokingly went on. "You should head over to Sam's this Friday night for drinks. It's a great way to meet people. The atmosphere is great and they usually have some live music, though not always of the best quality." Esme cringed, remembering a few of the less successful performances.
"I don't know, Es," Edward sighed. "I just got out of rehab. I don't think it would be a good idea to hit the nightlife on my first weekend of freedom."
"Nightlife?" Esme snorted. "I'm talking about a bar that's about as big as our living room and just as cozy as well. Besides, Forks is kind of a everyone-knows-everyone kinda town so if – and I'm saying that's a big 'if' because I don't think even you would be stupid enough to fuck up a second time – worse should come to worst, there'd be a whole army of town gossips trying to stage an intervention before you'd even hit the critical point."
"Are you sure it's a bar?" Edward chuckled. "Because it's starting to sound an awful lot like some sort of CIA training camp."
"You'll do fine, Ned," Esme shrugged. "I just know it."
Her brother shook his head, his eyes dropping to his legs. "I wish I could be so sure."
"Well, I am." Her voice sounded as sure as she felt in that moment as she patted his hand awkwardly, her movements encumbered by the fact that she had to keep her eyes on the road. "You're never going to get rehabilitated if you lock yourself away from the world."
Edward nodded, knowing there was truth in every word she said even if he did not really want to see it yet.
"Besides," Esme went on, her tone lighter to pull their conversation back into easier waters, "It's not like I'm going to send you in there on your own." She chuckled when Edward's brows furrowed into a confused frown. "Learn to love my shadow, little brother, because it's going to be hovering over you every step of the way."
"That's…er…good to know?" Edward snickered, part of him relieved to be easing back into society with the help of his sister but, the other wondering if having his sister around wasn't going to cramp his style.
Not that it had in the past, though. In fact, it was Esme who'd been responsible for him receiving his first kiss at the tender age of eleven, pimping a horribly shy and scared-half-to-death Edward out to the object of his youthful affection, who happened to be the kid sister of one of her friends.
"I'm only keeping my own interests at heart." She shrugged. "After all, Jasper's dating Emily Uley's little sister and I'm not going to let you screw up the life of the only one of Carlisle's kids who doesn't hate my guts."
"Things still that bad?" Edward smirked.
Esme grimaced. "Jazz is great for the most part. Keeps to himself and only gets into trouble when he and the rest of the tree-huggers stage another protest in the woods. Rosalie, on the other hand…." Esme let her voice trail off, the story of her rocky relationship with Carlisle's daughter needing no further explanation between the two of them.
"She still blames you for their parents' divorce?" As much as he hated to admit it, his family sometimes sounded horribly normal and peaceful compared to Esme's.
"Yep," Esme sighed. "Even though she knows their marriage was broken way beyond fixing before I even met her dad; that the divorce papers were already drawn up and ready to be signed by the time Carlisle and I got together." She pursed her lips, letting out another sigh as she stepped on the gas a little, venting her frustration on the road. "Part of me even understands why she does it, that's what makes it all so damn frustrating! I can't even be mad at the little snake because, if it had been me, I'd probably have felt the same!"
"No you wouldn't." Edward had a hard time believing his sister would put anyone through the same shit she was facing at the moment.
"Believe me: I would. Hell, I did!" Esme argued. "You may not have noticed it but me and Carmen…we weren't exactly best friends for a while, right after word of her entanglement with dad got out. I may not have been home at the time but, I sure as hell had an opinion about the whole mess. It makes me wonder if this isn't some cosmic karma-bites-you-in-the-ass kind of thing."
"Maybe," Edward smiled, trying to remember what things had been like at home around that time. He'd been away at boarding school for most of it so all he remembered were a few awkward-as-shit holidays of his parents glaring at each other across the table while most of the family treated Carmen like she was a leper. "Or maybe it's just bad luck."
Esme snorted. "The worst of luck!"
"You know," Edward mused, "I'm getting kind of psyched to meet them after everything you've told me."
"Oh, you will!" his sister grinned. "I wonder how long it will take you to regret it."
"Who knows? Maybe I will get along with both of them. After all…." His grin almost split his face in two as he glanced sideways. "It's not like I destroyed their parents' marriage."
"Oh no, you didn't!" Esme shrieked, swatting him blindly as the car continued its steady pace along the increasingly scenic coastal road.
His head bumped against the headrest as he laughed out loud, trying to fend off his sister's attack without having them crash into a tree or a fellow road user. "Oh yes, I did!"
"Asshole!" Esme muttered, huffing as she cranked the volume on the radio, the noise effectively cutting short all further conversation.
Edward continued to laugh, the sensation of being carefree and happy again feeling so foreign it was almost shocking. After all, it had been a long, long time since he'd last felt that way. It felt good, though. Really good.
The rest of the journey was spent in a similar fashion, both siblings joking and laughing as they revisited childhood memories or filled each other in on the stuff they'd missed.
It was nice, Edward noted, to be around a person again who didn't have any sort of agenda or expectations from him. It was something he hadn't experienced in a while and, though his sister was pretty unforgiving in her criticism of him and his lifestyle at times, he had to admit he found it rather refreshing.
Yes, he thought, as the car swerved onto the exit, entering the town of Forks, maybe this exile thing isn't going to be so bad after all.
Driving through town it soon became inescapably clear that Edward was as far away from the world he knew and grew up in as he could get; the people walking or driving around looked like they cared more about comfort and practicality than whether or not their outfits were fashionable or pretty. The buildings, scattered around the main street, looked well-worn by time and weather but more cozy and inviting than even his own place back in Chicago and the people more likely to become his friends.
He liked it. Very much.
"We're here," Esme announced, pulling the car onto a small, private side street right outside the other edge of town, their whole journey across town taking them no more than fifteen minutes at the most. And that was mainly because the traffic light had been red.
"The place looks great, Es," he remarked as his eyes scanned the three story Craftsman style property. It had been Esme's ongoing project ever since she moved in; the beautiful historic house needing some serious attention after decades of neglect and crappy DIY work.
"Thanks!" Esme almost glowed, her eyes shining with pride as they followed her brother's. "It's been a lot of hard work – and I do mean a lot – but I think it's finally done now."
"So…" Edward grinned, chancing a sideways glance at Esme. "Time to move on again?"
"Never!" she gasped, chuckling along with him. "I've grown to really love this place, even though God knows it fought back hand and tooth, I don't think I'll ever want to let go of it. At least, not permanently."
Her love for every beam and stone of the house shone through as she pushed the button to open the garage, a happy sigh leaving her lips as she found herself enveloped by the freshly painted walls and crisp, classic contemporary furnishings she'd used throughout the place. "Besides, I think Carlisle would kill me if I'd forced him to move into another dump."
"So hubby doesn't share your love for fixer-uppers, does he?" Edward teased.
"He likes them well enough," Esme giggled, "he just doesn't really enjoy living in them."
"I can imagine." Edward nodded. Having shared the gruesome strain of long shifts and on-call nights, he wouldn't have particularly enjoyed coming home to a half finished house either. "I love what you did to the place, though. Those pictures didn't do it justice."
"Come on then!" Edward's amusement grew at the almost giddy tone of his sister's voice as she jumped out of the car while the garage door slowly dropped down behind them. "I'll show you the rest of the place."
Walking through the house, Edward could immediately see how his sister had managed to built such a great career for herself as an interior designer. Somehow she'd managed to do justice to the understated elegance of the time the house was built without making the place look like a museum; the modern touches of comfy furniture and her own, bohemian style making the place look cozy and welcoming.
"It's so quiet in here," Edward mused, walking to the living room, the light pouring in through the big windows and reflecting along the fresh, white walls. The only thing he could hear was a distant rumbling of a car and a few birds singing in forest that lined the house on three sides.
"Just wait until the kids get home," Esme chuckled, righting one of the brightly colored sofa pillows she'd picked up on one of her many travels to the orient. "There's no tranquility when those two are around. I'm warning you in advance."
"Thanks, I guess," he snickered, as a thought entered his mind. "Where are they, anyway?"
"Jasper's got baseball practice today," Esme answered, "and Rosalie…God knows where she is. She's probably hanging out with some of her friends."
"It doesn't bother you that you don't know?" It sounded odd to Edward. Not that his parents ever knew where he was during the day. No, that was what they'd hired Carmen for. She was the one who welcomed him in the afternoon and freaked out in a fiery stream of Spanish if he got home late.
That was, until he'd been sent to boarding school where he'd had just about the same freedom of a prison inmate. The only difference had been that he was at least able to roam the grounds freely and wear clothes that were slightly nicer than prison overalls, though the meaning behind them was just the same.
"Where did you find this?" His fingers brushed along the knotty, dark wood sitting on top of an antique looking side table. "Did you pick it up on one of your trips?"
"It's from a local artist, actually," Esme smiled. "She lives on the Quileute reservation close to town and uses all of this great stuff she finds in the forest. You should see some of her stuff. It's amazing."
"And let me guess," he joked, "a lot of it ends up in your clients' homes?"
"You know me too well," she grinned, pushing him through the double doors that separated the living room from the dining room. "There's more to see."
He smiled, his thoughts drifting as he tried to pay attention to Esme's never-ending stream of anecdotes about the history of the house and the three year renovation project she'd embarked on shortly after she'd gotten married to Carlisle.
"….and then, of course, there's the second floor," Esme went on after they'd toured the downstairs reception rooms and taken a peek into the upstairs bedrooms. Edward knew this was where she'd really gone to town, taking out walls and adding windows until the dark, pokey attic turned into a small, loft-style guest apartment. "It's where you'll live for the next couple of months."
Looking around, Edward got the sinking suspicion that Esme had redesigned the whole thing as soon as she agreed to have him over for the next half year, the color scheme and furniture being just the kind of stuff he liked, though he'd never be able to pick and color-coordinate all that stuff himself.
"Esme," he warned, shaking his head as his eyes landed on the brand new, empty shelves lining one of the walls of the small sitting room. Perfect for his collection of music and books, he thought.
"What?" she replied innocently, though the way she averted her eyes said it all.
"I thought you hated grey?" Edward asked, his voice stern as his eyes peeked past the half-open door into the grey and deep red masculinity of the bedroom. "You completely redid this place, didn't you?"
She shrugged, smiling guiltily. "I may have."
Edward sighed. "You didn't have to."
"I know," she smiled, "but considering I like nothing better in the world than to strip rooms to their blank state and completely reconfigure them, you really did me a favor here. Besides, if it's going to be your home for the next couple of months, you'd better feel at home in it. Life's been tough enough for you already."
"You didn't have to do all this," Edward repeated himself, shaking his head as he noticed more of the rustic wooden artwork he'd spotted downstairs, his hand rising to stop his sister before she could argue her defense. "But I'm glad you did, Es. I love it."
"Good." She smiled like the cat that got the cream. "I'll leave you to unpack your things then. Dinner will be at seven, which gives you…what…" She pushed the sleeve of her pullover up to glance at her watch. "…an hour and a half to get settled."
She was gone before Edward could ask if she needed help cooking, leaving him to the task of unpacking the boxes scattered around the room, the labels stuck to the top of each one bearing Tanya or Carmen's descriptions of what was to be found inside.
Each one bore the unique style of the woman who filled it, meaning that the box of 'necessities' filled by Tanya contained most of his standard works on medicine as well as a few more specific journals and articles, and the one bearing Carmen's almost illegible scribble of 'stuffy music' contained his prized collection of classical and jazz music.
He chuckled, shaking his head as he picked up one of his favorite records and carefully placed it in the brand new looking entertainment system, the smooth tunes of Miles Davis' Sugar Ray filling the empty space. Carmen had never really understood his love for what she called 'strange, depressing music you cannot dance to', her love going out to the more abundant music of her homeland.
She'd also never understood why Edward still bothered with books and CDs when he had a perfectly good Kindle and iPod to substitute those 'smelly old things'. To Edward, however, nothing quite paralleled the sensation of putting an old Chet Baker record onto his old record player and sagging down into his comfy, worn lounge chair with his old, thumbed edition of On the Road as the record started to spin and music filled the room.
To him, it was what home really felt like.
He spent the next half hour opening boxes and unpacking the stuff he needed to function – clothes, some of his books and music, toiletries – until the strain of having been on the road all day and the protesting muscles in his neck forced him to abandon his work and drift back downstairs where Esme was hard at work preparing dinner while singing along to La Bohème.
"Don't give up the day job, sis!" Edward grinned, stealing a few carrots as he walked past the kitchen island.
His sister jumped, a loud 'ooh' leaving her lips at the sudden intrusion of her tranquil surroundings. "Don't you ever do that again!" she gasped, flashing the knife she'd been holding as if to emphasize her point. "I could have cut off a finger or something!"
"And I'd have sewn it back on before you could've even blinked an eye," Edward shrugged, snickering at his sister's flustered state.
"Cocky asshole," she grumbled, going back to the task of chopping up vegetables. "So, have you finished unpacking already?"
"Nah, I just got bored with it," Edward answered. "I figured I'd go out for a walk while it's still light outside. Unless you need my help, that is?"
"I think I'll manage just fine on my own, thank you," Esme spoke. She'd never much cared for being 'helped' in the kitchen, since most of the time it meant extra work, telling people what to do or how to do it. "Don't get lost."
"In a town like this?" Edward arched his brow, grinning widely. "I think even I should be able to find my way around here without my trusty GPS leading the way."
"Oh, before I forget," Esme stopped him before he could go out, "the garage called. You can pick up your rental car first thing tomorrow."
"Great! Thanks." It would be good to have his own way of getting around town without having to depend on his sister as his own personal driver or borrow someone else's car.
Setting off from the front porch he walked back down the lane and into town, marveling at the way nature and town seemed to almost be interwoven, like the woods were embracing the town…or laying siege to it, waiting patiently before it would surrender and be absorbed.
As he walked further into town, the greenery was pushed farther back; the side streets off the main thoroughfare no longer ending in plush, green forest but splitting off into other streets lined by the same one or two story wooden houses which seemed to be the norm around town. The main road was mostly occupied by a few small businesses, mainly ones selling supplies in the widest variety of the word.
All in all, it appeared to Edward that practicality, like he'd seen in the people and their cars, was the key word around town; nothing fancy or flamboyant, just the kind of stuff a person would need to have a nice, comfortable life.
Walking past the local 7-Eleven, he remembered there had been a few missing items among the things Tanya and Carmen had packed, toothpaste being one of them. However, as soon as he walked through the door he realized that a relaxed browse through the local offerings would be out of the question. Apparently in a town as small as Forks, every new arrival was a spectacle worthy of extensive study; conversations coming to a sudden halt as all eyes turned towards him.
In all his life Edward had never felt as awkward before, not even when he was caught red-handed, pilfering the hospital pharmacy in need of his next fix. The women – because the store seemed to be strangely devoid of men – peering at him from over the shelves made him want to hightail it out of the building like his ass was on fire. And that was even before the whispering had started.
It wasn't until he reached the seemingly deserted produce section along the far end of the store, that the whispering started to die down and he managed to breathe freely again, noting only after a few more moments he wasn't alone.
His companion appeared to be the only woman under forty inside the store at the moment, the way she was studying the selection of apples making him wonder what could be so interesting about a piece of fruit to warrant such a thorough inspection.
She was beautiful, in an almost otherworldly sort of way; her dark brown hair and pale skin making her look like she'd wandered out of one of those old-fashioned films, her black, fifties-style dress perfecting that look almost to detail, making her look kind of like Dita Von Teese's more approachable younger sister. That was, apart from the shoes.
He almost snorted when his eyes fell on the black and white checkered Vans she wore, the contrast with the rest of her vintage appearance so striking he started to wonder if maybe some, troublemaker hadn't stolen the shoes she'd left the house with.
There was something about her, though, something that went deeper and further than her beauty and her freaky sense of style that drew him towards her in an almost primal, unstoppable way. His urges to speak to her and find out more about her making him drift subconsciously towards the apple section, where she was still scrutinizing them as if her life depended on it.
"They look good enough to eat," he remarked, grabbing one from the stack.
She did not answer but she didn't have to, the way she turned her shoulders to physically draw herself away from him saying enough as she quickly grabbed a few apples from the display and set them into her basket, her retreat quite startlingly similar to the way he had just fled from the front of the store.
Edward snorted, turning his attention back to the apples, smiling wryly at his own antics. Apparently, his newfound charisma only worked on women over forty.
She had already left by the time he'd managed to find all of the things he needed and made his way to the register at the front of the store, fortunately taking most of his captivated audience from before with him. The woman manning the register looked like she didn't care who or what he was as long as he paid; ringing up his purchases with a professional indifference as she shot a few pointed glares at the die-hards who still seemed to regard him as some sort of miracle appearing to the good people of Forks.
Time to go. Even if a look at the clock hanging above the counter hadn't told him so, the unfortunate incident in the convenience store was more than enough to put Edward off of further explorations of the town, intuitively picking a small alley next to the store in the hope it would bring him in the direction of the Cullens' home. His home.
It appeared his presence in the alley couldn't have been timed better; his eyes looking up from the paper bag containing his purchases to find a young woman – a very familiar looking young woman – besieged against her car by a group of teens hollering abuse.
"You're such a freak!" one of them, a pimply looking boy of about seventeen screeched, pushing her shoulder into the unforgiving steel of the car door.
"Yeah!" A girl, her startling blond hair and blue eyes in stark contrast to the ugliness pouring from her mouth, nodded. "We don't want you here, you filthy whore!"
"Hey!" Edward yelled as the group converged closer and closer around the defenseless girl, his feet taking off in a jog as he awkwardly clutched the bag with one hand, the other poised to fight if needed be. "Get the hell away from her, you idiots!"
The look in his eyes sent the kids scrambling, though not before one of them – the one who appeared to be the ring leader – gave the girl one final shove which sent her crashing into the concrete with an anguished yelp, the unforgiving surface scraping her knees and hands as she tried to break her fall.
"Are you okay?" Edward panted, kneeling next to her as his mind shot automatically into doctor mode, checking her wounds to see if they were in need of medical attention.
"Get away from me!" Her eyes were aflame as she yanked herself free from his hold, jumping into the rusty, old truck and started the engine before Edward could even blink his eyes.
He just about managed to jump sideways as she tore out of the parking space, the wheels narrowly missing the tips of his toes as the truck roared down the street like a charging cavalry before turning onto the main road and vanishing out of sight. Edward, meanwhile, stood in the empty street, scratching his head and wondering what the hell had just happened.
It would only be much later on that he would realize just how life-changing his little pre-dinner walk had been.
Thoughts?