Two years ago, Bella Swan had her heart broken. And now, Bella is back in California with mixed feelings for Edward Cullen, her born rival, and ex boyfriend. Could it all just be deja vu, or will history find a new way to entertain these lost souls?
Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Stephenie Meyer's.
Chapter One – Home Is Where The Heart Is
Bella's Point Of View
Moving schools was going to be hard. I already knew that – any respectable kid or teenager knew that. It was common sense. But just this one time, I wanted to not believe it. This wasn't my first time moving to a new school either. And I wasn't one of those people who knew how to make this scenario work in their favour, because every time I moved, it was different.
I had moved to seven different schools since I was six, moving between my mother and my dad. See, my mother, Renee, lives in Forks, Washington State, only the most miserable place on Earth. The population was about two thousand, it always rained, and the kids there were unbelievably…plain. After reaching the age of eight, I moved to live with my father Charlie in sunny California, the exact opposite as to where I had been, along with my older brother Emmett.
The population was truly five times the amount of Forks, there was extremely little rainfall, and the kids there were plainly unbelievable. So after that I moved once back to Forks, much to my dismay finding nothing had changed. My mother and father eventually talked to each other about my migrating obsession, and agreed that I was able to stay in Forks until I was seventeen, where I then had the choice to move to California for junior year and complete my education, or stay in miserable little Forks. It was obvious what my choice was.
I had a good circle of friends from California who I stayed in contact with via the ever popular myspace and facebook (although it's completely safe to say that I stopped using myspace when its popularity decreased immensely, hence creating a facebook page). God knows what I would do without the social network. It made going back a little less daunting, and a little less hard.
I waited nervously for my father Charlie to come and collect me from outside the airport, where diversities of people hurried in and out of taxis. Suited balding men, fat women struggling to lift their legs, and of course, the tourist family with the matching outfits. I sighed and took my jumper off, realizing I was melting in the sweltering heat. I called Charlie, no answer. I guess that meant he was on his way, or left his phone somewhere. But alas, I saw a familiar black car enter the arrivals car park, and waited anxiously but nonetheless excitedly.
Charlie Swan was Lieutenant of the Los Angeles Unified District and prior to that, worked in the Navy, the airforce unit and the marines. He stood tall and proud, but wasn't at all smug about his position. He's had the same moustache since high school and is quiet but caring. Unfortunately, with him being "Mister Save The Day" and all, he always had me in bed on time, set my curfew a little too early, and gave me lectures about drinking underage, when to have sex, not to take drugs or get a ride home from strangers. I strongly remember when I was about seven or eight; he taught me how to break somebody's nose and how to make a person black out. I also remember trying it out on a couple of kids at school.
My father was also very emotional and often manipulative (unless he used his booming voice at me) but was somehow unable to show this. It was hard to know what his emotions were, seeing that his face gave nothing away. Ever since I can remember, Charlie has never moved the picture of him and my mother on their wedding day from its spot on the corner shelf. There had been numerous times when I was little that I'd be awoken by his crying, or seen him walk by it and stop and stare, only for a little while. I wondered absentmindedly if things were going to be different this time.
"Bella!" Charlie called over, smiling, making his face go crinkly. My face grew hot – I hadn't seen my dad in such a long time.
"Hi dad," I smiled, as we embraced.
"How are things? I can't believe your actually here." Charlie jeered, taking my suitcases for me. I had packed fairly light, seeing that I didn't exactly own warm clothes – Forks had about three or four days of hot weather per year. The rest was rainy and miserable.
"Things are good." I replied. We got talking about how we've been without each other these past couple of years with a silence here and there, and Charlie telling me about the success that Emmett, my older brother, has bought to him. As we cruised along the roads of Los Angeles, I realised how much I missed the feeling of the warm sun on my skin, and the feeling of being with my dad. He was actually there, reachable. He wasn't having a webcam conversation with me on Skype or asking me how my day was via email.
As we passed along the beachfront, I noticed a group of teenagers my age sun tanning, all stereotypically diagnosed with that Californian look that made me throw up in my mouth a little. I did happen to notice one boy in particular, who I knew from high schoo, two years ago. And once Charlie had stopped at the traffic lights, he just happened to turn his head and look my way.
His name was Edward Cullen, and he was the hottest thing on the west coast. The bad part was that he knew it too. We had been frenemies since I could remember, to me making his nose bleed (yes, he happened to be one of the kids that I tried my self defence moves on), as well as him being an ex boyfriend – more of a flame, really – and then, him totally and completely embarrassing me in front of the whole school a couple of years ago. His reddish brownish hair was incontrollable; his glistering green eyes could be spotted from a mile away. He had lighter skin than the others, and he stood tall, lean, and muscular.
Quickly, I wound my window upwards and looked down at the floor, my face growing hot from embarrassment. His head pricked up a little more, and I knew I had been caught. Fuck. Charlie made a noise with his throat. "You never liked that Cullen kid did you Bells? Didn't you break his nose once?" Charlie remarked.
"No and no – unfortunately I only made it bleed." I said honestly, and Charlie chuckled.
"Yes, I remember now. I always secretly knew you were going to adapt to Emmett's trouble making. You've got that sense of rebellion in you – like all good Swan's." Charlie admired. I smiled as the light thankfully turned green. I didn't dare look in the review mirror.
It was true though. I was always eager to start trouble; it was just too much fun to break the habit. But of course when I lived with Charlie, I made sure to not be too foolish and get myself in too deep. I smiled at Charlie and we once again entered a silent spell. Stupid Edward Cullen – he was always making an idiot of himself. He caused controversy and mess wherever he bloody went.
Soon enough we arrived home. Charlie owned a medium sized home that expanded indoors and out the back, which opened up to a patio and a pool area. The exterior was a mediocre sandy colour, and the window frames and garage were a dark chocolate brown. It had separate bedrooms for all three of us, plus a spare room that Emmett used as a semi gym and semi den.
Charlie pulled up in the driveway, and I immediately noticed the same red Chevrolet – still half put together while half was just scraps of metal strewn around it. I also noticed the black Vespa parked under the tree, next to what I suspected was Emmett's fire engine red Jeep. I hopped out and grabbed my suitcases and carryon bag, while I noticed Emmett's huge muscular frame barging through the front door and across the lawn, a huge smile etched on his eighteen year old face. Honestly, he hadn't changed a bit.
If he wasn't wearing a smile, Emmett could look like he was ready to kill someone – he had a very threatening persona that he gave off, and he used it to his advantage. "BELLA!" Emmett boomed loudly, laughing his crazy ass off while swooping me up into a bone breaking hug. My eyes widened at the spectacle of his biceps. Holy Shit were the best two words to describe them.
"Emmett!" I replied happily. We had been close for the first six or so years of my life, before we were split up. While I made trips to California, Emmett made trips to Forks to see Renee, making it difficult to have an average sister and brother relationship. Emmett had brown hair with the same curliness as mine, and he had Renee's blue eyes, along with bronzed skin to match.
"It's been way too long Bells! Look at you!" He said, still in amazement. He took one of my suitcases and lifted it over his shoulders. "This is light – you obviously aren't like any other girl." He said.
"Isn't that a little feminine for you to say that Em?" I asked, teasing. How would he know? Hmm…He punched me very, very lightly on my arm. I ran at him, but before I could shove him, he pushed my head back with one hand and laughed it off.
"Ow." I said quietly, while we walked inside, Charlie lagging behind with my other suitcase. Emmett chuckled.
"I'm just saying, isn't it like, completely stereotypical for girls to have a crap load of suitcases and stuff?" He said. Ah yes, another Emmett characteristic – he could be very presumptuous at times, as well as a little narrow-minded. "Oh yes, I almost forgot; you're not like any other girl." He smiled with realisation. I rolled my eyes as we entered the house, and the feeling of happiness washed over me. I truly loved this place. The walls were an off white in almost every room in the house. As Emmett led me upstairs, I saw a glimpse of the den – it still had the old sofa with the matching armchair that I used to curl up in and read books in, along with Emmett's weights and a treadmill in the corner, complete with a huge television. It was basically a man cave.
Emmett bought me back into my senses. "Come on slowpoke." He taunted, opening the door to my bedroom. The walls were still white, with the one feature wall, a deep ocean blue. The same wooden desk and chair, the same queen sized bed, the same wardrobe. I honestly didn't mind. Emmett dumped the suitcase on my bed. "We got new bed sheets for you. I picked them out. I hope your favourite colour has stayed the same since the last time you were here." He bragged.
Surely enough, the new bed spread was lavender purple with a dark blue floral design on it, a contrast to my feature wall. I smiled. "Thanks Emmett." I said, right as Charlie walked in, and put my other suitcase on my empty desk space.
"We'll give you a moment to settle in. Got some new coat hangers for you too." Charlie said, slowly opening the wardrobe door, which creaked rather loudly.
"Thanks dad." Both men smiled at me once more before exiting my room. I opened the blinds to the one window in my room, and I was immediately comfortable at the familiar view of the rooftops of houses and palm trees surrounding them. If you squinted enough or put your face right onto the glass, you could see the beach that led out to the Pacific Ocean.
I vacuumed the room and cleaned the desk, the walls, and wiped the mirrors down in my ensuite. After going Martha Stewart in my room, I lay on my bed and sighed heavily – I could barely remember this room being empty, now that all of my stuff had filled the spaces in between. I desperately wanted to sleep, but I instead decided to go get ready for a shower. Just as I was getting my things ready, Emmett walked in and plonked himself on my bed. "So, how was Forks?" Emmett asked, yawning.
I shrugged. "Boring as hell. Nothing new. What's the latest gossip? I need to catch up." I said.
Emmett went into thinking state. "Not much, really. I mean, when you left, there was heaps of talk. People thought you had been taken to rehab or a crazy institution or something. It lasted for a while." He said. "I never actually got the truth from you, you know. I saw it happen, and when I got home from school, everything out of your room was gone. It was like you had never been there."
"I'm sorry Emmett. But when something like that happens, and someone like that means the world to you does that..." I trailed off in search for words. "I was a coward. I ran, when I should've told the truth. By running away, it just made everything worse. And I really am sorry."
"Charlie was pissed off. He cried when you called him. He had no idea what happened, and I couldn't tell him because I didn't know the truth." Emmett said.
"I hate how I left. I felt like such a bitch. I really was an asshole, wasn't I?"
"Not more of an asshole than Edward." Emmett sighed. "Actually, he looked terrible for a while, now that you mention the word asshole. He never really got any punishment for it either."
"I saw him at the beach when we were driving here; from a distance of course." I assured him.
Emmett ignored me. "Bells, promise me you're not going to leave again. I mean, Forks would've been good and all because it's not California, but you know this is where your heart, and your home is. Just talk to me before you do anything stupid, ok? And as for Edward, stay away from him. Spend time with the people who matter." He said.
They were possibly the most caring words Emmett had said to me.
That's right, I'm back :) And I promise I'm not going to bail on you guys again. Please review your thoughts!