Hello roses! Long time, no read. I've begun working on this fanfic again and decided to rewrite the older content! This is the new first chapter which comprises the prologue and chapter one of the original story. It is both edited and expanded so while the beginning may seem the same, please bear with me and give it a chance! Thank you for the support, I really didn't expect anyone to read this, but I'm thrilled over 10k of you did!
Before we begin, a little disclaimer; Any portrayal of mental illness or health disorder is based on my experience. As such, it may be inaccurate to your own experience, but I hope you enjoy regardless. Be kind to yourselves!
–
On the day I moved to Forks, I drove to the airport with the windows rolled down and my laughter-lined mother in the passenger seat. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. My slice of heaven. Her short and mousy brown hair blew around her as she leaned out of Phil's car, smiling and carefree. She was the perfect foil to me, by design. She was erratic, irresponsible and while sometimes I loathed her for it, I loved her all the same. I had to keep reminding myself of that fact as I chose to leave behind all I'd ever known.
She glanced at me now with a face full of hope and a mischievous sparkle in her childlike eyes. How could I deny her happiness? I asked myself. Let her chase her dreams. With Phil looking after her, the bills would probably get paid on time, there would be edible food in the fridge and perhaps she'd finally settle on what she wanted to do with her life. Perhaps…
I'd gone over my goodbyes to Phoenix a thousand times. It was here we fled when – in the middle of the night – my mother could no longer stand to stay in Forks. Charlie wasn't a bad husband. He was a father who tried to do right by my family. But 'right' was never enough for my mother, she wanted 'spontaneous.'
I was a baby when she left; and as I grew older my mom regaled me with the tales of how she hitchhiked for days in search of the sun after leaving the near-constant cover of clouds the Olympic Peninsula thrives under. She thought it was inspiring, but it just made me anxious.
Still, Phoenix represented something important for us both - freedom. For my mother, it was freedom from boredom, for me it was freedom to feel safe. I put down roots here - now I had to rip them up. I had chosen to exile myself, foregoing the lively city I loved to watch bustle around me while I curled up with a coffee and a book. I was leaving the safe bubble of blistering heat I called home.
When we arrived at the airport, I tried to exchange quick words of goodbye. She was harebrained and rambling, excited to go start her new life in Jacksonville, but Phil and I both knew she'd miss her plane if we didn't push her right to the gate. And, truthfully, I was too far recessed into my own head to indulge her need for validation as I have through the years. I knew her promises of always being there for me were false. I was the one who was there for her - and I always would be, whether I liked it or not.
It was a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Until I stepped off the plane, I hadn't really thought about my new life here. Mostly I was just ignoring it in favour of the blissful peace of my book. Now the panic washed over me, as did the rain that was managing a steady but miserable drizzle.
I ran for cover and the bright lights of the Port Angeles airport in the dark. As soon as my flats met the slick floor, I knew I should have been more careful where I stepped. I braced myself for the fall backwards and was surprised when rough hands caught me with a grunt. I looked up at Charlie as he steadied me.
"Guess it was good I decided to come meet you outta the plane." He gave a small twitch of his mouth that passed for a smile.
Charlie's face was lined like my mother's, but instead of lines wrinkled by laughter and memories he had a thick moustache and frown lines weathered and hard. Time hadn't been as kind to Charlie - we were both worriers. He didn't show his emotion with his whole face like she did, Charlie was more secretive. Where he did show it, was his eyes. Warm and brown and honeyed just like mine, with kind crinkles at the corners, if you knew where to look. That's where he truly smiles.
I shook my surprise at seeing Charlie off my face. "Thanks dad. It's good to see you." He grunted and picked up my small suitcase. I really didn't have a lot of clothes for such a rainy place.
"Oh, you really don't have to do that, I got it…" He waved me off and we made our way towards the exit in silence. Whereas mom always needed noise and chatter, Charlie and I were more comfortable in our own thoughts.
We stopped at the parking lot - it wasn't hard to tell which one was Charlie's. "Ah, I forgot that I have to get used to… you know, getting into a cop car." I said, rubbing my arms awkwardly.
He chuckled. "At least you get to sit in the front." The car door clicked behind him. He cleared his throat as I slid into the passenger seat. Minutes ticked by in awkward silence as he started the engine and conjured up a conversation topic.
"So, uh, speaking of cars I was talking with Billy Black, you remember me talking 'bout Billy, right?"
"Ummm…"
"He's my fishing buddy, down at La Push."
"Oh right, I remember now."
"Yeah well, he's in a wheelchair now and he offered to sell me his truck for cheap. I, uh, I bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." He saw me beginning to sputter in surprise and waved me off.
"I know I know, you don't like expensive gifts. But I want you to be happy here and I… don't want a repeat." He squared his jaw, looking straight ahead. I realised then how much it meant to him for me to come here. But I couldn't help but ask myself, would he still feel the same in a year?
I swallowed my tears and gulped. "Thanks dad, I… I really appreciate it."
"Well, now, you're welcome." He mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.
The silence that followed was much more comfortable than before, despite our mutual uneasiness at big emotions.
I watched the rain pour down through the dark windows, imagining the vibrant canopy awaiting me with the light of day. I wondered what it was like, the green. Mom always described it as an alien planet, the trees, their trunks covered with moss, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves. It sounded beautiful, but cold and wet and… lonely. Alienating.
I fell asleep then, leaning against the window in an awkward position and hiding my hands in my sleeves to shield them from the cold. I was exhausted. At the time, I expected Charlie to wake me when we got to my new home. I expected a brisk goodnight and a badly disrupted sleep, tossing and turning all night.
Instead, he carried me inside, shrugged off my wet parka and flats and gently placed me in bed. I weighed nothing to him, he later told me, I was just a tiny, bony little thing. He covered me in the quilt, kissed my head and left me to rest. It might not have been much to anyone else, but to me? It meant the world.
–
Waking up in an unfamiliar room was hard for me, especially when the last thing I remembered was the hum of the engine and my warm breath on the cold window. I sat up, pulled the purple quilt around me and tried to calm my heart rate. Usually, taking exhaustive notice of my surroundings helped to force me to reality. So, I examined the room that had belonged to me since I was born.
There was a worn wooden rocking chair in the corner where the ghost of my young father rocked me to sleep. Yellowed lace curtains hung around the bay window my mother felt was a cage to keep us both in. These were few things that remained from the last time I was here. Charlie had told me the things he had changed as I grew. My crib to a bed, a desk for my summer homework.
I was never allowed to take him up on the offer to visit. Although my heart hurt to see him try so hard to accommodate me, my mother always had an explanation, excuse or emergency to keep me by her side. I vowed to be grateful I now had a reason to put these things to use - and I would try to pay Charlie back when I could.
I tiptoed to the window seat and drew aside the curtains, unaware of what time it was. The early September sun was attempting to break through the thick fog and foliage that was as ever-present as the evergreens in Forks. It was pretty, my mother was right about that. There was a heavy feeling settling in my chest as I gazed at the shrouded treetops in the distance. I wasn't sure it was a bad thing. The weight was more akin to a heavy blanket than a noose around my neck.
I heard Charlie shuffle out of his room and my earlier panic returned – I forgot to make breakfast. A wave of shame washed over me as I mentally kicked myself. I quickly changed out of my travelling clothes from last night and rummaged around in my suitcase for something decent - close to the top was my favourite white blouse, hand-embroidered with tiny roses, and comfortable, loose fit jeans. I could make my outfit weather-appropriate later, I decided.
I hurried to open the door then carefully shut it behind me. Mom hated the noise of my movement around the house. When questioned about it, she argued that if she was painting, it would throw off her brushstrokes. Personally, I doubted I was ever loud enough to startle her, but I followed her rule regardless. I found Charlie at the square, scratched oak table in one of the unmatching chairs of the tiny yellow kitchen, wearing his uniform with all but his jacket and gun.
"Morning. I'm really sorry I didn't get breakfast ready, I must have forgotten to set an alarm." I smiled at him apologetically.
He waved me off. "Caffeine is usually my breakfast anyway."
"What can I fix you before you leave?" I asked anxiously, as I opened the nearest cupboard.
"Bells, relax. I haven't really done any food shopping yet anyway." He downed his mug and patted me on the shoulder as he passed on his way to grab his police jacket and gun belt.
"That's fine, I can go after school if you want me to."
He paused at this and looked at me puzzlingly. "I thought you'd want to give yourself a day to settle in first. You don't have to rush back to school on the first day if you need a break from travelling."
"I… I should go. No sense in delaying the inevitable." I gave what I hoped to be a brave smile.
Now he looked embarrassed. "I mean I can take you in the squad car if you want but I had planned for Jacob to swing by with the truck today. The kids at La Push don't start back 'till next week. Might be nice for you to have a friend too."
I thought quietly for a minute while he pulled on his jacket. The last thing I wanted was to show up like that. But I couldn't skip my first day for no good reason. I had almost resigned myself to my fate when–
"You wouldn't be skipping, I already talked to the school about this. Told 'em you get plane sick. C'mon, take a day off kid." He pulled the back of my neck towards his chest and gave the top of my head a quick, scratchy kiss.
I smiled at him weakly. If I wasn't careful, the tears would spill over before he was out the door.
"Have a good day, Chief." His eyes crinkled in response, and he left me in the kitchen. It was only when I heard the sputter of the engine that I let myself sink into a chair and fall apart.
The little time I had spent with Charlie on his visits hadn't prepared me for this. Back then we were standing 5 feet apart and barely talking. Now I was… home… he was being sweet. He caught me when I fell at the airport, he brought me to bed when I fell asleep in the car, and he knew exactly what I needed today. It took less than two hours combined to disprove everything mom had said about his 'unfeeling' nature.
I walked to the fireplace in the adjourning handkerchief-sized living room. It was the only place in the whole downstairs that was dusted, as far as I could see. Sitting on the mantelpiece was a row of family photos. A wedding picture of a young mom and dad in Las Vegas, one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, school photos of every single year we were apart, right up until last year. It was impossible, being in this house, not to realise that Charlie had never gotten over my mom taking me.
I composed myself, headed back up the wooden stairs to unpack and pulled my hair into a simple ponytail. I was good at cutting off my emotions if I needed to. My lacking winter wardrobe fit easily in a single drawer, and I hadn't brought many personal belongings with me other than my books and a tiny cactus, which was a cutting of the big one we'd had in the backyard in Phoenix.
I was surprised to see that the noticeboard above my desk had already been populated with drawings I'd done for my dad when I was a kid. Touching, but of course, embarrassing. I carefully unpinned them and put them away in a second drawer.
I spent the morning cleaning the kitchen after I was done arranging my room how I wanted it. I wasn't sure if Charlie could cook very well and honestly, I was used to being assigned kitchen duties – mom was an 'experimental' cook and burned almost everything that 'graced' her stove. The cupboards were sparsely populated, but what I found was surprisingly in date and usable. It was simple enough to make a quick meal plan for what we had in, and a shopping list for what I would need. I kept things simple for Charlie, and I wasn't a fussy eater either.
As I packed my cleaning supplies back into the cupboard I'd found them in, there was a knock at the door, which I could only assume was Billy's son, with my new truck. I opened the door to a tall, russet skinned boy with impossibly long black hair framing a face with high cheekbones, a wide lop-sided grin and dark, deep set eyes. Despite his tall height, he looked fourteen, maybe fifteen and still had just a hint of childish roundness left around his chin.
"Hey! You're Isabella, right? I'm Jacob Black, I live just out of town." He extended a hand which I gingerly took.
Before I could answer, he pulled me forwards into a crushing hug. "You're so much smaller than I thought you'd be! I thought you were seventeen!"
I laughed as he let me go. "Just Bella actually. And I am seventeen!" I told him indignantly, crossing my arms. He was so friendly, with a clear easy-going attitude – it was kind of contagious.
He held up his hands in fake surrender and backed away with a snort. "Okay, just Bella. Don't shoot the mechanic – I might just be the only one able to get that thing running again if it breaks!"
He shoved his hands in his pockets with a grin, stepping aside so I could peek my head out to see the driveway. The truck was a faded reddish-orange, with big, angular fenders and a boxy, square cab to match. To my intense surprise, I loved it. I just hoped it would prove reliable – I had enough bad luck as it was.
"Does it break down often?" I asked anxiously. I couldn't tell whether he was joking or not.
"Only as often as it rains." He paused. "Nah, I'm kidding. I've fixed it up good, you probably won't have any problems 'till it needs its winter tires."
Smiling, he added, "I may be sixteen but trust me, I've been working on cars since I could walk, and I'd be happy to keep it in ship shape. I know it's not what you might have wanted, but I hope you like it."
"Jacob, hush. I… I love it. It's great, thanks for fixing it up." I smiled as genuinely as I could muster. It must have been convincing as, in response, his face lit up like a praised puppy.
"Great!" Jacob threw the keys at me, and I caught them awkwardly, managing to bump my shoulder on the doorframe lightly. I chuckled weakly - I wasn't looking forward to the oncoming bruise that would cause. I rubbed my arm as I went to grab my coat.
"Want me to come with you for a test drive? I'd be grateful if you could drop me off afterwards too," Jacob called. He was leaning casually but attentively in the doorframe, head stooped, gangly arms and legs crossed.
"Sure," I answered, flushing red. Did he think I'd crash it on my first drive or was he just being nice? I hoped for the latter.
"It'd be nice to have at least one friend around here."
"Yeah, 'course. I can't imagine what it's like, moving so far and all. I'd never dream of leaving here," He shrugged, "it's all I've ever known. Plus, my dad would kill me!" He grinned.
I thought of my own mom, how she was so happy to rip herself away and set herself free at the cost of my exile. I zipped my coat and pushed the thought out of my mind as I headed back to the front door.
As I stepped out, I noticed dark clouds billowing above the treeline, threatening a torrent any minute. I quickly locked the house. "At least you're comfortable here. But do you ever get used to the weather?" I pointed upwards.
Jacob laughed. "Tell me when you find out!"
–
Sitting inside the truck felt like a warm embrace. I could imagine what a godsend this warm and dry cabin would be on those rainy Forks mornings I had ahead of me. Jacob had obviously done a great job cleaning it, but the inside still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. Paired with the worn light brown leather upholstery, the cabin felt comforting and grounding. The truck was clearly well loved by its previous owners, even if it didn't quite get the use it needed towards the end.
Of course, that would soon change – I refused to be driven to school in the cruiser and considering my attendance record was almost spotless, it was safe to say the truck would be getting a lot of use from now on.
But not that day. What started out as a simple test drive turned into hours of talking, laughing and genuinely feeling like… a teenager. How Jacob convinced me to hang out with him that day is still a mystery to me, but nevertheless, I wasn't behind the wheel long before we arrived at his house. It was a small wooden place with narrow windows, the dull red paint making it resemble a tiny barn.
Apparently, Billy was out, so Jacob led me to where he spends most of his time - his garage. A thick strand of trees and shrubbery concealed it from the house, and it was no more than a couple of big preformed sheds that had been bolted together with their interior walls knocked out. Inside was a chassis of some kind of vehicle and an array of different parts and tools strewn around the floor. Here and there were dirty dishes with the remnants of some old meal; a bowl, a plate, a pizza box. He looked embarrassed when I noticed them.
"Sorry, I don't usually have good company!"
I laughed. "If I'm good company, I don't want to know the company you usually keep." I took a seat on an upturned bottle crate. "So, you build cars as well as keep them running? I'm impressed."
"Yeah, when I have the time, and the parts. They run on the expensive side, especially the classic ones," He paused sheepishly.
"In a way I was relieved when Charlie bought your truck... My dad wouldn't let me work on building another car when we had a perfectly good vehicle right there," He rolled his eyes. "It's nice, but pretty slow."
"Glad to have done you a favour… Wait, it's not that slow!" I objected, already attached to my beloved truck.
"That's only 'cus you haven't gone over sixty. Word of advice – don't." He grinned.
"I'll keep that in mind," I said gravely.
"So, it's your first day at school tomorrow, right? Are you dreading it?"
I nodded. "It sucks that we don't go to the same high school. It would have been nice to know someone there."
"Well, you know where I live now. If you want to come complain about the palefaces, you're welcome to."
I laughed.
"Seriously though, you should come. A few of us are going to hangout and have a bonfire on First Beach this Saturday."
"Thanks, but I wouldn't want to intrude - you know, as a paleface." I teased half-heartedly. "Plus, I'm not much of a people-person, present company excluded of course."
At this he looked visibly deflated. "You wouldn't be intruding, and we could always just go for a walk or something. But, please, don't feel pressured, I get it!" He smiled, looking almost apologetic.
"Maybe I will come then, it would be nice to see the beach." I revealed it shyly, but truthfully. Although Jacob, like everybody for me, was difficult to read, it was clear that Jacob genuinely wanted me there. And I wanted to go. Especially after the shitty week I'm doomed to have at school.
"It's a stone beach, right?" I asked suddenly.
"Yeah, why?" He asked, curious.
"Well," I began, blushing. "It's kind of embarrassing, but I really like the idea of finding sea glass or some cool rocks. I've only ever been to warm and sandy beaches and there's not much to pick up."
"Hey, that's not embarrassing! It's awesome to collect stuff, I mean look at me and my engine parts. I'll help you find some cool rocks, I promise!" He puffed his chest out like a kid and pounded his chest proudly as he made the vow, making me crease with laughter.
He pulled up a tire to sit next to me. "So, you're not good at the social stuff, huh?" He looked away.
"I was wondering actually, if you were diagnosed with anything? It's not a dig at all. I just… struggle with some of my own issues, that's all."
Jacob sighed and gave an apologetic smile. "That definitely didn't come out right."
On one hand, I was stunned at his sincere confession yet grateful for his honesty. On the other hand, if Jacob, who I had known for less than a day, could tell that there was something… different about me, could everyone else here?
I flushed red and picked at a loose thread on my jeans. "A couple of things, yeah. I had a friend… well it doesn't matter now. But they were worried about me, and the school made me see a counsellor for a while."
I dared a glance at his face through my lashes. An unreadable mask. He gave a sympathetic shrug of his mouth and nodded at me to continue.
"My mom was furious, so it never went in my medical records – she fought it. We had the money to afford the care, but she didn't believe there was anything wrong with me." I laughed hollowly.
"At the time they were considering depression, anxiety, even autism. It didn't surprise me. I know I'm a freak."
"That's not true," Jacob insisted, "If you're a freak, then I'm one too; And hey, you wouldn't want to insult your first friend here like that, would you? The reason I ask… my mom died when I was young and I kind of lost it for a while. That look in your eyes reminded me of my own back then."
He sighed. "Of course, we both have mommy issues, why am I not surprised?" He looked down for a second, serious and sad. Then,
he broke out in laughter. I couldn't help but laugh along. It was silly, but for Jacob to reframe it so plainly helped me cope with the complicated reality.
It was then that I knew I'd made a friend I'd never forget.
I left Jacob's when it was almost dark, with a warm hug and a promise to see him on Saturday. Before I went home, I searched for directions to the nearest grocery store. I may as well do something productive on my day off, and it would be nice for Charlie to have a good meal. It was the least I could do for him.
When I came out of the store, it was pouring with rain. Luckily, my truck was truly the miracle I thought it would be. The sound of the rain hitting the roof was satisfying, and I took a moment to enjoy it and relax my tense body.
I had always hated shopping. The fluorescents seared my eyeballs, the sound of rattling carts shook my bones – it was all just too overwhelming. And then, to do that in front of other people? Weekly? I sighed. Hopefully, it will be weekly.
With my mom, I had to endure almost daily visits to the store – and we still ended up with a fridge full of mouldy food if I wasn't vigilant. I prayed to whoever was listening that this time would be different and started the sputtering truck.
Charlie was sitting in front of the TV when I came in. "Hey kid, where'd you go today? You like the truck?"
I dropped the groceries off by the door and leaned on the back of the couch.
"Yeah dad, it runs great. I was with Jacob, we hung out in his garage for a bit, then I bought groceries on the way home."
"Good, I'm glad. Jake's a good kid, keeps his head down."
"Yeah, he is. He invited me to go to First Beach with him on Saturday."
"Well, you should go. I usually go fishing on the weekends anyways; It would be good for you to have some company."
"I think I will then, if that's okay," I answered, silently grateful.
He grunted in response and with that, we slipped into our easy silence as I filled the cupboards with groceries. I warmed the oven up, planning to cook a simple roast. After I put the food in, I headed upstairs to email mom. She would have probably wanted me to call, but I didn't have a lot to say that I was willing to share.
Mom,
I hope that Florida is good. I'm missing the sun a little bit, but Forks is pretty… At least so far. I imagine I'll have a different opinion soon enough. Charlie bought me a truck, can you believe it? I love it. It's old, but really sturdy. He made me take the day off today so Jacob could drop it off. I think Jacob might be a good friend for me. I miss you, let me know if you've forgotten something. You packed your jewellery in your socks if you're looking for it.
Always yours,
Bella.
I sighed and stretched, cracking my shoulders in the process. I was certain her reply would be a list of things she'd lost in the move. But enough of that. I need to serve dinner for the immediate concern downstairs - Charlie. Although, admittedly, Charlie was turning out to be less of a concern than I had originally thought.
Dinner was simple and quiet – Charlie always seemed happy to accompany me in my silence. I did the dishes, grabbed some water and said goodnight to Charlie, earning me a scratchy forehead kiss and a thank you for dinner before he went back to his TV.
It was a little early, but it was always my tradition to read before bed. I had learned over many years to leave much more than just an hour for my reading - it simply wasn't long enough. I'd had many sleepless nights to attest to that fact as I tried to get in 'just one more chapter.' Sometimes, I wished my brain worked like everyone else's and I'd fall asleep reading, but I wasn't sure that would ever be the case.
Tonight, it was especially difficult to wind down. My thoughts churned over and over like a constant hurricane whipping through my brain. Worries swirled and scattered in every direction without letting me get a hold of any single one. A mist of anxiety and overwhelm surrounded me in my bed like the purple covers Charlie had so thoughtfully picked out for me… It was impossible to enjoy my nightly ritual like this, so I ended up staring at the ceiling, my eyes unfocused.
Like always, I had shared my thoughts with no one and, therefore, there was no one to provide me comfort. It wasn't that I lied to people when they asked me how I was doing – it was that no one thought to ask me in the first place. I was responsible, intelligent and mature for my age. As a 'gifted child,' it was all I'd ever heard from the adults around me. Truthfully though, they never saw past the carefully constructed, people-pleasing persona I had adopted to take care of my mom.
Ah, my mother. That was the heart of the problem. Not that I was in a completely foreign town with an insanely different climate, that I was living with my dad, a practical stranger to me, or that I was starting school tomorrow as a total outcast. No. I was thinking of my mom.
Would Phil manage to remember the specific way she likes her eggs? God, I hoped she wouldn't burn the house down trying it herself. What if he doesn't remind her to pay the electric bill and she can't charge her phone to call me for help? She always leaves things in the weirdest places – Phill might forget to check the fridge for her wedding ring…
And on and on it went. Several times as I watched the numbers on the clock tick by, I thought about getting up to send him an email, but I managed to keep myself in bed, even if it was a herculean task. I didn't cry that night. Eventually, the exhaustion and anxiety must have pulled me under, though I don't have any memory of falling asleep. Although I knew it was probably for the best, I felt robbed of the chance to mourn my old life at the time.
Then again, looking back, perhaps there was no need to mourn it at all.
