[Chapter Two]
Unsurprisingly, Charlie has already headed out to work when I wake up.
While he is content with getting up earlier than any normal person would willingly wake up at, I'm one of those people that determines how much sleep I got last night. I was too busy thinking about Phil and Renee for me to get the proper sleep and managed to wake up to the sound of my alarm clock blaring, thankful I had decided at the last moment before bed to turn it on.
I decide on a burnt orange turtleneck sweater that hangs down over my mid thighs with black leggings underneath and the same clunky boots I had worn yesterday.
They are a little worn around the edges due to the last owner being someone who enjoyed hiking around the Saguaro National Park along with the Grand Canyon National Park. There will always be the red cry of the desert caked into the soles of the shoes, they have ridges on the bottom of the shoes for better grip on all types of terrain. I absolutely love them, stained in random places and the soles, because they have character.
The kitchen isn't anything special as I enter it.
The dark wood paneling for the walls, the popcorn textured ceiling, fluorescent flush lighting in the middle of the ceiling. The floors are white linoleum and forever worn out, it's evident that the flooring needs to be updated. The above head kitchen two door cabinets are in serious need of a touchup. They are a tacky, quite ugly yellow shade. An attempt to make the kitchen look more cheerful but has done the opposite, making it a sad parody. There is the wooden square kitchen table near the windows that look out to the front yard with three mismatching wooden kitchen chairs. There's a vase that belonged to Grandma Swan sitting in the middle of the table with flowers that I'm certain Sue Clearwater from The Reservation had gifted to him to surprise me.
I notice the Wonder Bread bag sitting next to the clunky, silver toaster waiting for me.
Along with the clear glass bottle of Smucker's grape jelly.
Putting two slices of toast into the slots, I turn on the toaster and push down the lever.
The whole time I play with my left sleeve of my sweater, my fingernails tugging even though the last thing I need to do is pull at it hard enough to yank a hole in it.
Thankfully it doesn't take that long for the bread to toast, and I plop them down onto a paper plate before spreading grape jelly across the surface of the toast. So, the sleeves of my sweater are saved from having new holes and fraying the pieces even more.
After eating my breakfast, I go upstairs and brush my teeth before touching up the wavy parts of my hair with the polka dotted hair straightener that I had gotten from Sally Beauty in Phoenix. I also grab the cherry blossom body spray and squirt some in the air in front of me before walking through them. The last thing I grab is my worn out, but trusty purple backpack and the crocheted rainbow-colored satchel Grandma Marie (Renee's mom) had made for me before she died.
Hurriedly I leave the house and almost trip down the porch steps. I have to grab onto the railing of the steps, gasping in shock. I glare at my feet, hating how I always seem to trip at least once every other day, if not more. It just so happens that is what I'm meant to deal with the entire time I will be staying here. Maybe for the rest of my high school education if Renee isn't found again, alive or dead.
Hopping into the front driver's seat of the truck, I throw my satchel and my backpack into the front passenger seat. I smile up at the necklace before I start the truck and wait for the truck to warm up enough for me to not shake from the freezing weather. I breathe out a sigh of relief when the heat finally gets high enough in the truck, before pulling out of the gravel driveway and heading in the direction of where the high school is.
Forks High is just off the highway and is composed of many buildings instead of just one.
They are all matching crimson bricks and there are aluminum overhead pathways that could cause ear splitting if someone has to stand underneath the overheads for too long during a rainstorm.
There are nicely trimmed bushes that are lining each side of the pathways, very uniform. In the distance there is a forest that arches in a horseshoe manner where I won't be surprised if one looks out and sees a herd of deer or baby deer traveling through the small field and towards the other parts of the forest.
Arriving on campus, I park in front of the front office and sigh as I glance over where the other buildings were. I'm pretty good at memorizing things, even though I couldn't claim I have a photogenic memory. I just have good enough memorization that I don't have to look at the information in front of me more than two or three times.
Entering the front office, I'm welcomed with padded folding chairs and orange flecked commercial carpet. Potted plants are in every crevice of the room, wanting to bring out more nature throughout the room. There's enough nature outside, the moss-covered bark and dark green leaves of the trees are a reminder I'm not in the desert landscape anymore. I can't help but cringe my nose back involuntarily at the fact, missing the cacti and the clear blue skies.
A large, red haired woman wearing glasses sits behind the counter (the counter cuts the front office in half).
As I get closer, I notice she's wearing a thick purple sweater that hides most of her weight, and she's wearing cat-eyeglasses that are the same color as the sweater. A name tag is on the corner of her shirt, that says her name: Mrs. Cope. I have no interest in learning what her first name is, I'll only be in her life for another school year and then I'll be heading off to college.
I've barely shut the front office door behind me when she looks up from glancing at the screen of the clunky computer sitting on the lower half of the counter that is on her side.
She pops her head up, smiling brightly when she sees me.
I let my eyes land on the wire baskets that have a lot of papers in them, some of them are notes from doctors so that she can look at them later and confirm that they really did go to the doctor.
In a town like this I'm sure that none of these doctor note excuses are real, while back in Phoenix some people created doctor names and somehow got away with them if the school was too busy. It just reassures me there's no possible way for me to skip school just because I want to, something I sometimes did back in Phoenix because I needed a day to recharge myself.
"Hello, I'm Mrs. Cope. You must be Miss Swan. You look just like your father."
I give an awkward smile and come forward to the counter, where she pulls out a map of the school that she highlights for me to know how to get to my classes. It's in the normal yellow color, and she also hands me a slip of paper for each of my teachers to sign to acknowledge me coming to class.
Leaving the front office, I barely hear her tell me that I can keep my truck here since it's my first day, but I'll need to park in the student parking lot the rest of the school year. I glance down at the map and memorize the first half of the buildings I'll be heading to for the day before stuffing the paper into the pocket of my weather, thankful that I had gotten a cute one with pockets.
I've barely reached the pathway to my first class of the day, building 3, when someone comes bounding up to me with incoordination. I glance over at them and see a tall and lanky boy with all ankles and elbows. He has a mop of black hair, and his face is broken out. He has Oriental features and is wearing nothing remarkable. The long sleeve shirt is blue while his blue jeans have a few holes in them and blue tennis shoes. His one strap backpack has seen better days but there's no need to throw it away quite yet, it will probably make it through his senior year.
"Hi! I'm Eric, Eric Yorkie! Can I take a picture of you for the Newspaper?"
The boy takes off his backpack with a little struggle and brings out a camera with a strap to it, before hooking the strap around his neck. He brings his camera up to show me it better but my heart stops and clusters together in a nervous manner. I think back to all the unnecessary pictures I had to take when I was younger and know that I don't voluntarily take pictures unless they are from family members. Even then it's quite rare to find pictures of me.
"Oh, no, thank you. I need to head to Mr. Mason's class. I don't want to be–"
"I can walk you to it!"
I shake my head, mildly, before rushing away from him.
He is tempted to run after me but seems to realize that just makes him look like a stalker.
He slumps off in another direction and I sigh a breath of relief before I reach the front doors that lead into the single floor building, which holds the English department. I open the doors and enter, getting a blast of freezing air conditioning, just like I did when I entered the front office. There are students that are rushing in all different directions, some of them are in small groups either going into a classroom together or staying near the strip of lockers so they can converse with each other.
Mr. Mason is a tall, balding man that smiles at me as I walk into the classroom. I notice two girls putting their coats up on the coat rack. Their coats are nicer than others but nowhere near being the best of the best.
One of them is a porcelain blonde girl with sour but still pretty features while another girl has light brown hair. She's a lot shorter than her friend and she has kind blue eyes, though she's in an intense conversation with the blonde girl. She does glance over her shoulder and sees me, sending me a way too large smile that is borderline concerning.
"Good morning, Miss Swan."
Ah. Yes. The teacher. Mr. Mason.
Turning my head away from the two girls, and instead head forward and reach him. I hand him the slip of paper and he signs it, asking me if I prefer to be called by my full first name or if I want to use a nickname. He barely asks me this when I tell him I prefer to be called Bella, and he sends me a nod before writing it down on his attendance list.
It turns out that the class will be about the Bronte Sisters and their works, Shakespeare, along with Chaucer and Faulkner. All writers who I have read their works quite extensively. The Bronte Sisters and Shakespeare are my favorite writers. I don't have any issues with the other writers, but I feel more connected to the sisters and Shakespeare.
The class goes by quickly without any issues and I soon head off to my second class of the day, Trig with Mr. Varner in building 4.
I manage to trip over my clunky feet and fall down and almost hit my head on the corner of the table. People gasp in surprise while there is that one bitch or asshole that still chuckles at my inability to even walk down a straight aisle to my desk. My face is flushed red, and my head is dipped down, I don't bring my head up the whole time and hate how Mr. Varner makes me introduce myself to the class (he also keeps telling me that he doesn't do nicknames in this classroom, he only does the full first name that our parents gave us for a reason).
Spanish is better, I'm pretty fluent in the language.
I knew enough in Phoenix from having Mexican neighbors that would let me babysit their children and cousins. I'm good enough that I could probably take Spanish 2 if I were still in Phoenix, but they don't offer anything other than one level for foreign languages. It's also the class in which I realize the blue-eyed girl happens to be in all my other classes. Her name is Jessica Stanley. She's determined to become my friend and only speaks Spanish when the teacher demands her to.
So, it's not surprising when Jessica decides she will be the one to walk me to the cafeteria although it wouldn't be hard for me to go to the building.
It's the only one with all the windows framing the building, the one that has a more modern aesthetic to it than the others. There are blinds that frame the windows, and they are at half mast, not full open but not fully closed. There are some picnic tables that are scattered throughout the side of the campus where the cafeteria is but not that many students are sitting at them, most of them are interested in sitting inside of the room.
Just like the other classrooms the cafeteria is too cold but I'm thankful that I'm wearing this sweater and decided not to wear a quarter length sleeved shirt. The custom bowling shirt Phil had gotten for me when he was obsessed with me and Renee starting our own little league isn't thick enough for me to be able to walk around the school without having a jacket wrapped smug around me. So, it was a good choice. I chose this one instead.
Jessica hooks one of her arms around me tightly, in order to make sure I can't escape from her. She hurries us towards the table in the middle of the room. It is round and has about ten seats. There are three seats that are already taken, two girls and one boy.
One girl is Lauren Mallory, the sour girl from earlier and happens to be Jessica's best friend. The other girl is Oriental and has quite stylish glasses, along with a camera hooked around her neck but she doesn't have this overwhelming hyper taking over her whole personality. Then there is the boy, Eric Yorkie, and he's looking through his own camera, most likely seeing if he has gotten any good shots for the latest article for the School Newspaper.
She reaches the table and properly introduces me to the girl, Angela Weber.
She's the Lutheran Minister's daughter and it's probably expected for her to marry a minister or a preacher. She's the good church girl who has this purity around her, if there was an actual guardian angel that resided on earth it would probably be Angela. She has this glow around her, as though invisible wings are ready to spread out and shelter someone. She dressed very conservatively, there's not that much skin that she's showing.
Lauren Mallory is the Varsity Volleyball Captain and has made the school be the champions of the state each year she's been here. She dresses in the latest but most affordable clothes and seems as though she could break you in half if you cross her. Overall, she's that proper athletic girl that just so happens to have excellent grades too.
I've barely gone and gotten my lunch and sat down when the last two members of the table arrive.
Two guys.
One of them is an African American with short hair that is almost shaved down and has a basketball propped up against his hip under his arm. He's freshly showered, and one can smell the Axe Body Spray that is coated on him. He's wearing a white t-shirt and some sweatpants, along with Nike tennis shoes. There's a sports jacket that rests on his shoulders, he's not interested in putting it on. His body temperature is probably still warm considering he just finished exercising.
His name is Tyler Crowley, one of the members of the Varsity Basketball Team and one of the most annoying boys in the world. He has this peppiness to him, like the world is all sunshine and rainbows. Too friendly for me, I'd rather slowly get integrated into a friendship before being fully thrown into a world of social butterflies.
The other boy is Mike Newton.
The Golden Boy of the high school.
One who can do no wrong, one that no girl with common sense would ever reject.
With spiky blond hair that is gelled too much, and baby face features he looks like he should be an eighth grader instead of a junior in high school like the rest of us. It's worse that he decides it's his honorary duty to start flirting with me, his features turning into a scowl when it doesn't work. It's probably rare for girls to not accept him.
Thankfully Jessica decides to gain my attention by squealing my name, making me sigh and sit my flavored water bottle down onto the surface of the table again. She yanks me by the arm and all I can hear is, "the Cullens are here", in a not so quiet whisper. I'm sure that a few tables around us can hear her proclaim this.
Still, I decide to humor and turn around as a couple crosses through the cafeteria to a table that is closer to the side right corner of the cafeteria.
My eyes widen at the beautiful couple, they remind me of ancient marble statues of a god and goddess as they move effortlessly through the cafeteria. One of the things that's remarkable about them other than their perfect symmetrical features is their golden eyes. The first I've ever seen on someone, anyone other than them would look weird with gold eyes but on them they make it work.
The girl is tall, with thick hip bones and breasts that are not too large but certainly are not small. Her golden hair cascades down to her hips, and sways with each movement of her hips. There's no need for her to have eyeshadow or eyeliner, but she has on light pink lip-gloss. There's a weaved pattern bubblegum pink turtleneck sweater that falls on her mid thighs and skin-colored tights. Some stylish brown boots with too thin and too tall high heels click in sync.
"That's Rosalie Hale and next to her is her foster brother, Emmett Cullen. They're currently dating. Like dating, dating."
Said Emmett Cullen reminds me of a professional wrestler or boxer. He could possibly become one easily.
There's a mess of obsidian curls that hang just right, and his features are more Adonis while Rosalie reminds me of Aphrodite. He's wearing a quarter length sweater, a warm autumn brown color, dark washed jeans and clunky hiking boots that thunder against the linoleum flooring. One of his arms is wrapped around his girlfriend's and the other hand is holding a bag which is filled with hard boiled eggs. I kind of chuckle at the sight of them.
I've barely studied them when the next couple comes bounding into the cafeteria.
"That's Alice Cullen and Jasper Hale, he's Rosalie's twin. They're dating too."
Alice has to be one of the smallest girls I've ever seen, she's only four foot eleven and has spiky, but stylish short hair that goes in all different directions. She's wearing corduroy crimson overalls with a white turtleneck underneath and black slightly heeled boots. One of her hands is out and holding the hand of the boy next to her, a large smile upon her faerie-like features.
The boy on the other hand has dirty blond hair that falls to his shoulders in loose curls against his shoulder blades. He's wearing a white masculine sweater, dark washed jeans, and cowboy boots. His shoes don't thunder on the linoleum like his brother's shoes did. He's nervous though, and almost seems to lean against his girlfriend even though she barely reaches a proper height for him to lean on her. Especially considering the fact that he has to be at least two feet taller than her.
I go to turn around and actually eat my lunch when the door opens again, and the last Cullen comes striding in with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He has on a simple masculine sweater with a navy-blue pea coat draped over his shoulders as though it's an accessory instead of an actual usable jacket. His hair is a mess, artistic in a way, and in the most beautiful copper hue that I've ever seen someone have as a hair color.
"That's Edward Cullen. He's single, the only bachelor. Only don't even think about trying to go out with him. Apparently, he's too good for all the girls here," Jessica scoffs before she picks up her soda can and takes a long sip. I'm afraid that she's going to tighten her fingers hard enough against the can that the remaining soda will come splashing out and hitting her.
I don't turn around and look at them again, though I almost roll my eyes when Edward curves one of his lips up in amusement, as if he had heard what Jessica said. Of course that's not possible, the conversations in the cafeteria resonate and one couldn't hear Jessica mumbling unless they had superhuman hearing. Unless the Cullens are secretly superheroes with superpowers then that's not possible.
The moment the bell rings for our next class I quickly throw away the remains of my lunch and give the cafeteria ladies my tray. I hurry out of the cafeteria, momentarily shivering as I remember that I'm not heading out in warm weather but instead I'm greeted with the cold, dreary weather that looks like it will turn into a rainstorm.
I don't expect to enter Biology and be hit with the irritating lightweight plug-in fan sitting on the desk blowing in my direction. I shiver, once again, and notice movement in the corner of my eye as I hand the slip of paper to Mr. Banner to sign. He signs it with a flourish, having one of the best signatures out of all the ones today, and hands me my textbook.
"You'll be sitting with Edward Cullen. It's the only available spot for you, and he's a good kid. Just make sure that he's not the one who does all the work."
Nodding my head, awkwardly, I turn my attention away from the average looking man and let my eyes land on Edward Cullen sitting at a table near the back of the room. The white painted brick walls and the window next to him that gives off a bluish tinge only make him odder than anything else in this classroom. Even the dissected animal parts floating in jars don't look half as odd as the auburn-haired boy with dark golden eyes and hands up near his nose.
Going down the main aisle that separates the two rows of lab tables I'm thankful when I don't manage to trip over my feet. If I were back in Phoenix, I could close my eyes and try to get to my lab table only to get lost and trip. Here the layout of the classroom is simple and there's not an overwhelming number of students either.
I can't help but arch my eyebrow at Edward Cullen, not impressed with how he's curled in on himself.
I try not to think about the absurdity of his behavior.
I know I don't smell bad; the fruity body spray and strawberry shampoo are evident that I smell good. Perhaps the smell is too much? He might have a sensitive nose and the smell is too strong to him. I know sometimes I overdo it with the body spray, but it still doesn't justify the way he has his hands up near his nose as though I am the smell of rotting corpses.
As if I don't have enough problems with a dead stepdad and a missing mom.
Taking a deep breath, I focus my attention on not showing any emotions as well as I can. I won't let anything else shake me. Even Edward Cullen.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I didn't like the storyline I had chosen for Bella and Felix in The Swan Song. I'm still trying to figure out what their story should be like. She'll be a senior, because I feel better than her meeting him when she was 14. I just couldn't do that in the other storyline because it gave me pedophile vibes even though I tried not to write it like that.
Do you like the idea of Alice seeing Bella possibly becoming a part of the Volturi and Alice doesn't want that, so she and her family decide to try and attempt her to become one of them? Then when Felix and Demetri along with Jane and Alec arrive in Forks to take care of James, Victoria, and Laurant after being too sloppy in Port Angeles and Seattle, Felix decides he wants to be somewhere that matters to him? So, he decides to leave the Volturi (and since he's not Gifted the Volturi don't care) and instead becomes a Cullen?
Let me know if that's a yes.
as always: Twilight doesn't belong to me.
-it'semmynotemma