Chapter 2: arrival

Last night's sunset had blazed across the sky in a fury of orange and red. This morning, the sunrise sheepishly crept over the horizon. The color changed from deep blue to orange and yellow in the span of an hour. Now, the bright blue almost hurt to look at, it was so dazzling. The white fluffy clouds looked like perfect tuffs of cotton candy. I kind of liked driving at this time of day. Hardly anyone was on the road, giving me time to think through all the different scenarios of what I'd find in roughly twelve hours. I'd seen pictures of Cara's house, so it wasn't too hard to imagine. But the image of my sister and I living there together made it dissolve. I couldn't make it stay in my mind very long.

At some point during the night, Cara had propped herself against the window, her face pressed up onto the glass. Her breath fogged it up in little puffs every few seconds. Good to know she was still alive. I thought about waking her once the sun was up, but decided not to. If she could stay asleep in that position for that long, then she really needed the rest. Now that the light shone brightly into the silent car, it was a matter of time before she awoke completely.

"Collins."

Cara's voice always sounded softer in the morning, right after getting up. It was like she was too out of it to be angry or upset with anything. Or anyone.

"Still right here, driving just fine," I smiled. She groaned in response. We didn't have much farther to go, if my estimate was correct.

"Pull over at the next gas station so I can grab some coffee and we'll switch places."

I'd had my fill of driving. My adrenaline rush had completely worn off about an hour ago, and it was my turn to crash in the passenger seat for a while. Thankfully, the next gas station was only a few miles out. We'd be there in no time.

Dad wasn't going to get the promotion, I just knew it. Not because he wasn't a competent engineer or a hard worker, but because things like that just didn't happen to our family. Other people, but not us. Nothing that exciting ever happened.

My phone had beeped loudly in the middle of history class, my least favorite. Mr. Garner had a no tolerance policy for cell phones, no exceptions. It was only a matter of time before he would find the culprit and exact punishment. I reached for my phone and hastily opened it to see the one sentence I was sure wouldn't reach my phone.

Promo went thru! Moving 2 Euro!

I couldn't believe it. They were going to Europe, and I was being shipped off to live with a sister I'd hardly seen in ten years. The walls of the school could have tumbled down on all sides and I probably wouldn't have noticed. I sure didn't notice Mr. Garner asking for my phone until he grabbed it from my hand.

"Is...everything okay?" I must have looked like my best friend just died, because Mr. Garner NEVER showed mercy when it came to phones. He thought they were the downfall of civilization and the bane of his existence. I only imagined what my face looked like as I slowly nodded.

"Then you can sit in after school detention this afternoon. See me after the last bell."

It was a blessing in disguised to receive detention that day. Weird, I know, but without it, I probably wouldn't have had time to formulate the appropriate response to my father's success. Of course I was happy for him and my mother. This was precisely the position he'd been working twenty years to land. And with the starting bonus, they could retire peacefully and still have a little left over. Mom probably wouldn't have to work when they hopped across the pond.

But Europe? And Forks?

They were suited for France about as well as I was suited for Washington: not.

But when I got home, it was all smiles. Neither of them even realized that I had been over forty five minutes late in getting home. There was too much to discuss about moving for both parties.

"Can't you just come live with me?" My best friend, Bethany, whined on the last day of school before Christmas break. My last day of school in Alabama, period. I'm sure I could have convinced my parents to let me finish out the next semester at home somehow. But that plan required a lot of selfish dialogue, possibly wailing and gnashing of teeth. I couldn't tarnish their joy like that. Maybe Cara, but not me.

"You'll have to call me the minute you arrive, and then every week after that so we can gossip. I refuse to let you become my ex best friend."

That was only the second time Bethany had seen me cry, aside from the day Pascal, my favorite cat in the whole world, got snake bit and died. She'd been there to cheer me up then too, trying to take my mind off of it. But there was nothing that could help now because the harder she tried to make me laugh, the harder I cried. I'd miss Bethany's stupid made up songs and her loud mouth. The way she didn't care if guys thought she played too many sports or was a little too good at burping her ABCs. Her affinity for hot wings.

"Collins, wake up."

I had been right in the middle of a dream about tornadoes when Cara shook my shoulder hard enough that I opened my eyes. The little interior light above my head made me recoil.

"What time is it?" I mumbled, my voice thick from sleep. The sky was pitch black and we were parked somewhere, though I couldn't make out where quite yet. Cara had her door open and was halfway out of the car.

"Almost one. We're home."

Ugh, what a sick joke. Okay maybe that was a little dramatic, but the icy breeze cutting through my long sleeve cotton shirt sure didn't feel like home. I couldn't imagine a time where I had felt colder. It did wake me up and set me to moving though. My whole body shivered as we started unloading the car. Couldn't this wait till morning? My hands were quickly becoming less responsive with each bag I removed from the trunk. Before long, I'd be a snowman, right there in the driveway.

I glanced at Cara's house-well, I guess it was mine too. The pale blue paint on the cottage style home was starting to peel in various places. A few pieces of porch furniture sat to the side of the door, rusty and neglected. The hedges looked just plain sad at this time of year. If I tried really hard, I could almost imagine that we were in some small south Alabamian town and that Cara had never moved away, just out. Mom and Dad would be just a few miles away, soundly asleep in their beds. But then the wind gave a sharp gust, and I knew that was a lie.

We managed to get all of my clothes in before Cara called it quits. We could get the rest tomorrow, when it wasn't so dark. I was totally fine with that. My hands had gone almost completely numb, making the task of carrying the huge garbage bags upstairs a difficult one.

"We'll have to get you some warmer clothes. Maybe when Mom and Dad drop your car off in a few days, we can all go to Port Angeles." She glanced up and down at my thin shirt and worn out tennis shoes.

"Sounds like a plan."

We said our good nights and went to our separate rooms. Mine was just after the stairs, to the left. I stood in the doorway for just a second to take all of it in. The walls were a light sea green and completely bare, except for a calendar hanging above the dark desk in the corner. The bed-my bed- was an old, metal frame with a firm mattress and a worn out yellow comforter that had seen better days. Add another thing to my Seattle shopping list. The only other furniture was a night stand and dresser, both matching the desk and a space heater, probably older than me. Everything was arranged as far away as possible from one another to maximize the space in the small room.

I reached for the bag that was labelled 'lounge wear' and pulled out a threadbare pair of sweatpants. They weren't exactly Northern winter approved, but it beat sleeping in jeans or shorts. I cranked up the heater, knowing that the HVAC unit wouldn't warm up nearly as quickly as I wanted. The place was freezing, how could I sleep like that?

The cool sheets created chill bumps all over my legs and arms as I slid into bed. It smelt like dust and laundry detergent. I was hardly tired from all the sleeping on the drive today. My mind started racing through images of people back home and the places I'd miss.

The barbecue shack that looked straight from an episode of Criminal Minds, but had the best pulled pork sandwiches in the entire state. The ice cream shop downtown that my friends and I frequented so much, they'd probably let us scoop our own orders. The little church downtown that held forty members of the congregation on a good day, but had been the place you'd find me every Sunday, in the third row between my parents and the little kids, trying to keep them from putting chewing gum in the hymnals.

And then it was the people.

The librarian at my old school that always took my book recommendations seriously, and even ordered books for the library based on them. Ms Charlotte, our neighbor that loved to bring a pie or some Johnny cake over every once in a while. My friends, that would probably forget about me once school got rolling again.

I knew that wasn't the truth, but my brain had taken a turn off of Depression Drive and was headed straight down Sorrow Street. Everything felt like it'd happened so fast. One day, I was sitting in Physics, thinking about how nice it was to be sitting next to our first string quarterback and contemplating whether asking him to prom would be social suicide. The next, I was across the country, in a foreign house, in a foreign bed.

It'll be a miracle if I manage to fall asleep, I thought.

Mom and Dad would be in town before school started, but only for a day. After, they'd fly out to their new lives. I almost didn't want them to come because when they did, it'd be the last time I saw them for months, maybe a year. It also mean that the semester was starting, and I'd have to go to school again. In a town this small, there was no way I'd get by undetected. At least they were bringing my car with them. I had insisted on driving it myself, but they insisted on that not happening at all.

The rain started falling against the roof and in seconds, I couldn't remember what exactly I'd been thinking about. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve and tried to roll over into a comfortable position. Sound enough, my lids wouldn't stay open and my mind no longer thought clearly. In minutes, I was out.

A/N: Hi readers :D If you've seen my profile, you'll know that I never envisioned myself writing Twilight fanfiction. However, after reading the books for the first time and watching the movies, I've found myself imaging all of these alternative plot lines and ideas. The Twilight Renaissance is in full swing!

I love feedback on my writing so that I can improve. If you have the time and the notion, please leave a review! I read them all. If you have any criticism, please keep it constructive. I know that my chapters aren't perfect and can always be better, but no one likes a jerk.

Stay safe and don't catch Corona.