A/N: So sorry this took so long! I am so sorry! I did not forsee that my computer would completely cark it...oh well, my documents have been successfully recovered and placed on my dad's computer anyway, so who cares? As long as I get a new lappy-top, I certainly do not.
Thank you to all who have read the story. Could you guys review too? Please?
We don't want it. Sorry Steph.
When I went to sleep, I sure as hell was not thinking about this. Honest, I wasn't. It was just a normal night at home.
When I woke up, everything was normal. I woke up in the same bed, in the same room...you get the picture. Although, when I looked out the window, I wasn't expecting what I saw out there. Wanna know?
(Oh wow, riveting.)
(Not yet, Lenah. You'll get your turn.)
I saw a very wet, very miserable sky.
Ok, it was winter, I should have expected this. It's ok, Jess.
Then I noticed the truck.
Yes, a truck. Orange, slightly rusted. Classic '56 Chevy. (Oh, Dad would be soooo proud of us.)And to top it off, a police car in the driveway. And it looked farther down than I remembered my room's view to be. We didn't have a second story house yet; we were supposed to start that early next year. Wait, my dad doesn't work for the police. Neither does my mum.
Hang on, where is she? I decided to look around for her.
(Worst. Mistake. Ever.)
(To put it simply, yeah.)
I practically ran down the steps (hey, might as well roll with it) straight into the kitchen. Yeah, this was not my house. Might have to ask Dad what the hell was going on.
Speaking of whom.
Dad was sitting at a little square table in the kitchen that was not ours. The fridge was different-looking as well. Did we get a makeover overnight? When I voiced this, Dad replied, in a decidedly American accent, "No, hon, why ask?"
This was so not my dad. He may look like him and act like him, but he sure as hell ain't my Dad. Call it Daughter's Intuition, but there was something subtly off with him. Actually, there was something completely off about everything, from the house to Dad's American-style police uniform and accent to the police car next to the Chevy. Where the hell was I?
(Great question. Ask your 'Dad'.)
"Hey, Dad," I asked, and my genuine Aussie accent was a huge contrast to his new one, "where are we?"
Dad looked at me as if I'd swallowed a whale. "Forks. Why? You change your mind?"
Dad looked sadder than I'd ever seen him. "Your mom wanted you to stay with her and Phil, but you told her no, that you wanted to spend time with me."
"Woah, woah, woah." I held out my hands. "Who's Phil?"
Now Dad just looked confused. "Phil's your stepdad. Hon, are you alright?" He reached over to feel my forehead. "You feel normal..."
"Dad?" I asked, and I knew this would be the million-dollar question. "Who am I?"
Dad raised an eyebrow. "Isabella, you're being silly. All the same, maybe you should go back to bed."
I slowly nodded, having gotten the answers I'd needed. I just hoped that nothing trivial had changed. Maybe Serah and Claire would be here too? Maybe when I go to school...that's when I realised I'd completely forgotten what day it was.
"Hey, Dad!" I shouted back down the stairs, "What day is it?"
"Sunday!" Dad yelled back. "It's around 1 in the afternoon, so you might want to fix up some lunch."
Was it foolish to hope that if I went back to bed, if I woke up again, things would be back to normal?
(I sure-as-hell thought so.)
(Shut up, Lenah. Let me hope.)
When I woke up, it was around seven at night, and nothing had changed. I was still stuck in Forks; was still 'Isabella'. By all rights I should be sitting with my real Dad in our realhome, watching TV recordings. But no, I was in a dreary little town with a name that should've been someone else's, in a freakin' story book.
Yeah. Don't know how I got here, but now I know that somehow I got stuck into a bloody Twilight story! Which meant that I would probably make yet more enemies, become friends with an eventual werewolf, and presumably 'fall in love' with a guy who calls himself a vampire! More like the hybrid descendant of Tinkerbell and Dracula.
(You're slowly getting better at insults. I'm proud of you.)
Just to make sure I hadn't somehow slipped into someone else's body while I was sleeping, I walked into the bathroom – which now didn't look like my bathroom – and looked in the mirror. A pale, perhaps paler than usual, face with dark brown eyes and equally dark longish hair with red ends stared back, a crease in the middle of her eyes. This was me. I didn't change.
(Ha, you look like Bella Swan!)
(You're not helping.)
(Your Dad calling you 'Isabella' probably didn't help either.)
(Shut up, Lenah. My whole world has changed, yours too!)
(I know, stupid. We're the same person, we hold the same memories. This ain't no walk in the woods.)
I was tempted to say that wasn't my name, but I knew he'd probably have me committed, so I walked down the steps to the kitchen, where my 'new' Dad waited. He was sitting in the exact same spot I saw him last, in the exact same freakin' uniform. What I didn't notice before was the gun he had with him. I grinned. I might just be able to get used to this.
(Fucking sweeeeet.) I fought the urge to laugh at that. Lenah's always been like that when a weapon's in our reach. Probably always will be. Her favourite weapon's a bazooka. Her reasoning: Bang! Explosions have always been her thing.
"You feelin' better? Remember everything?"
"I feel a little better, but I still don't remember everything. How was work?"
Dad smiled a bit, though I could see hints of sadness in his blue eyes that I saw earlier. "Alright. Didn't do much, really, Never really do much here. No need to, apart from the kids here."
"Cool." I sat down as Lenah eyed the weapon with mild interest, slightly disappointed in the size.
(Why couldn't it have been bigger?)
(Ha! He's a small-town cop. Be surprised it's that size.)
"You cooking, or should I?" I asked, bringing Dad back from the little world he'd slipped into.
"Hm? How about you cook? You've been learning at school, right?"
(Yeah, in Australia.)Lenah sounded pretty bitter. I agreed with her this time.
"Yeah, but I'm still a novice."
"Yeah...maybe we should invest in a barbecue." Now that sounded like the Dad I know and love. He was a whiz on the BBQ. Still is, probably. Daddy Dearest – and his spirit, too – can be quite stubborn.
"If it didn't rain buckets every five seconds, yeah. Might be a good idea." I winked, standing up. "Why don't we go out to eat? You know, to celebrate my 'return'?"
Dad stood up, grinning. "Perfect. You wanna drive?"
I'm quite sure I paled. To distract him, I asked, "Who's truck was it? You know, before you bought it?"
"Thought I told you. Billy sold it to me cheap. Still works, easy to drive." His grin softened into a smile. "Thought it suited you."
"Billy?" I was confused.
"Billy Black. Went fishing with him a couple times before you stopped comin' here in the summer," he explained. "You should remember him, and Jacob too."
Jacob Black. How original. I could hear Lenah snickering in the far reaches of my mind. Of course, this is Twilight. The name kinda ruined my favourite time of day...or, you know, night. Whatever floats.
"You don't have a license, do you? My 17 year old girl doesn't have a license." He shook his head.
(How the hell did I age two years without me noticing?)
(Beats me. Get back in the game, girl, he's still talking.)
"...I'm gonna teach you how to drive. In the meantime..."
"I'll walk." I so did not want to get to my first day of school tomorrow in a police car. No way in hell.
"Settled. Let's go to Renwick's."
"You can drive." I tried to smile. I really didn'twant to be here, in a very wet little town, with a name that reminds me of cutlery. I wantedto go home to Australia so badly. The need to do so made my heart ache.
(You know it.)
When I woke up the next morning to my very loud, very annoying alarm that Lenah wanted to throw against the wall, I groaned and almost lost a few brain cells against the headboard.
(School today. Yaaaay.)I could hear the sarcasm that sentence was dipped in. (You'll get to meet most of Forks' measly population, according to the book. Ain't knowing the future swell?)
I grinned. I forgot that I'd be able to predict the future with the very book that got me here. At least it's good for something.
I dressed in a black long-sleeved tee with jeans and my favourite black ankle boots. Ah, no uniform. My grin doubled in size.
I fought not to skip down the stairs and into my not-kitchen to find my not-Dad in the same place as before, reading a newspaper. My Dad rarely read the newspaper. He looked up as I emerged.
"Hey, Bells," he said. "Good sleep?"
(Ugh, he's still doing it.)
(Yup. Gonna have to get used to it though. Chances are, everyone at school's gonna call me 'Isabella'.)
(That's greeeeaaat.)There was always a difference to 'it's great' and 'it's greeeeaaat'. The former was normal. The latter was pure sarcasm. Lenah was the sarcasm queen. I probably wouldn't have been able to survive primary, then high school, if it wasn't for her.
I almost laughed at that. "Anything serious today?"
"One way to find out, and that's to go. Speaking of which," he glanced at his watch, "I need to go. See you later," he said, kissing me on the cheek.
"Be careful," I called to his back. He turned and smiled slightly.
After that, it was pretty quiet. I looked around at the place; it was exactly how it was described in the book. I sat at an old square oak table, with three unmatching chairs, examining the kitchen, with its dark panelled walls, bright yellow cabinets and white linoleum floor. Hah.
To top it off, over in the small fireplace in the equally-small living room was a row of pictures, starting with a wedding picture of my Mum: Lyndal, and my Dad: Matthew. Then was a picture of me as a newborn, wrapped in a blue blanket, a small frown on my face and my eyes scrunched up at the flash. The rest of them were the procession of my school pictures. I noticed that there were two less than there should've been. Maybe I could convince Dad to take them down? I always looked like someone had yelled, "Fire!". It was embarrassing.
(Now you're thinking like Bella.)
(Please don't. Now's not the time, especially since I think I'm gonna throw up my breakfast.)
(Please, don't. There, my job's done.)
(Thanks for the sympathy, Lenah. I really appreciate it.)
(Anytime, dear.)She sounded like a fine English-woman there. It almost made me laugh.
(Thanks again.) I was smiling widely. Then that smile faded as I was reminded by what day it was, and what I had to do.
God, I hated strangers. I wish I was as invisible as I was in Australia, in Northlakes High School. Apart from my group, and the boys acting like idiots and telling me to 'shut up' when I wasn't even talking (bastards), I was the invisible good girl. Not here. Never here. I would notgive off the aura of the nerd.
(You never did.)
Smiling, I grabbed my black jacket, and left my hair mostly down, besides the braid I always kept tucked behind my left ear. Let 'em think what they wanted of it. I checked to make sure the hair-band I always kept around my wrist was still there, along with my bracelet from Mum and the necklace from Dad around my neck. I never took them off, or my braid out, except when I showered. I grabbed a small bag, just in case, and headed out the door into the sprinkling rain.
I loved the rain, almost as much as I loved a good beach. I loved the way it weaved small dewdrops into my hair, like I was a water-sprite. I loved the way it felt against my skin, my closed eyelids, my lips. It was invigorating.
It was easy to find the school. What really surprised me was that there were no gates, fences, metal detectors (Ha!). Only the sign that said, 'Forks High School' made me walk into the parking lot, where there were a couple other students walking or driving through the lot. Least I don't have to worry about finding a good parking spot, though I will when I get my license.
Which reminded me: how on earth did I age two years? It was kind of...creepy. I sighed and headed to the office, which was behind the parking lot and connected to the other school buildings.
As I stepped inside, it was...bright, and warm. It made me want to take off the jacket, but I didn't, knowing it would be immune-system suicide. The lady manning the desk had a smile as bright as the room we were standing in, and long red hair I was envious of. We all knew what she was thinking when she looked up.
(Daughter of the Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last.)
"Hi, can I help you?"
"Yeah. I'm..." I paused, wondering which name I should give her.
(Just because. Roll with it!)
"Of course," she said, digging through a pile of documents on the desk that looked like the leaning tower of Pisa. From them, she pulled out my schedule and a map of the school. She went so far as to lead me through my classes on the map, highlighting the best routes to each. I said thanks, grabbed my 'documents' to put in my small black back on my shoulders and tore out of there.
(She seemed to be a bit too helpful.)
(Preachin' to the choir.)
(No really, she was almost creepy. Didja see her smile?)
(Enough to attract a blind man.)
(I am so proud of you right now.)I could hear her sniffle at those words.
I saw when I stepped out of the office that 1) it was cold again, and 2) it was becoming more crowded as more and more students started to arrive. I saw that they were mostly pale, like me, so I wouldn't stand out too much, and nor would my truck. The nicest car here was a shiny silver Volvo.
(You know who that belongs to, don'tcha?)
(I love you too.) She laughed at that.
With Lenah with me, whispering things about other students into my ear that made me laugh inwardly, I wasn't so afraid of the strangers. They really weren't going to bite me. Much (Queue Lenah's sniggering here).
Building 3 was pretty damn easy to spot, seeing as it had a big black '3' painted on the side. It was behind the cafeteria (Holy crap, a cafeteria), I noted as I followed the same two unisex raincoats the original Bella did through the door.
I was only wearing a jacket with a hood, no coats, so I didn't hang anything up. I handed the slip I was supposed to get all the teachers to sign to the tall, balding man at the desk. His nameplate identified him as 'Mr Mason'. (Nice name.)He pretty much gawked at me like I was some interesting show at the circus at the sight of my 'name'. Ugh. He sent me to a spare seat at the back of the class without introducing me, which I was happy about. What I wasn't so pleased with was the response of my new peers. They just kept staring, even though I was at the back of the class. Queue sigh here. The reading list my teacher had given me was a welcome distraction from all the staring. I read through it: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. Cool.
When the bell finally rang (More like a buzzer than a bell)a gangly boy with skin problems and black hair like an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me, like I knew he would.
"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" My right eye twitched.
"Yeah, I guess."
"Where's your next class?"
"Government with Jefferson (God!)in Building 6."
I seriously hate the name Jefferson. It all stems from this yr 10 kid at home who has a serious crush on me. He annoys me to no end, knocks on my window and...says really suggestive stuff.
(Ew, ew, ew.)
"I'm heading that way," he replied, smiling. Definite chess-club, overly helpful type. "I'm Eric, by the way."
I tried not to grimace. Really, I did. But seriously, it was just like deja vu. It really annoys me that I look like Bella Swan. Regardless, I'm gonna have to get used to it, lest I go completely insane.
As we walked, Eric would ask me questions about where I came from, and I would describe my country.
"Does it rain much there?"
"Australia is firmly in the middle. It has its fair share of droughts and floods."
And so on and so forth. By the time I actually got to Building 6, I felt like my head was going to explode – and I've only been through one class and one overly helpful guy. To top it off he walked me to the door, though it was clearly marked.
"Well, good luck. Maybe we'll have some more classes together." God, he sounded hopeful.
(Not on your life.)
(Read my mind.)
(Hard not to.)
The rest of the morning wasn't toobad, if you don't count Trig, where Varner made me introduce myself. I found myself wishing I was an actual,non-sparkling, traditionalvampire. It'd make everyone's life easier.
(Ya know what else would make everyone's life easier?If the Cullens actually were vampires, and not the fairies that we all know and you and I hate.)
(Question: how the hell are we sane?)
(No idea. Ooh, we're almost at the cafeteria!)
(You confuse me sometimes.)
(Hells yeah! My job's done!)
Lenah was right. Right after Trig and Spanish was lunch, which meant that for the 'first' time, I'd see the Cullens in all their unmoving, plate-of-untouched-food-in-front-of-them glory. Fun. Not.
There was one girl that sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and right now I was walking with her. Her name is – drum roll, please – Jessica! And guess what? She's the exact opposite of me! She's chatty and cares about boys and shopping. Ugh.
In every class, there was always one person who had the guts to say, "Hi, how're you liking Forks?" Mostly I lied. Mostly Lenah lied for me. Now thatis fun to watch.
The one good thing about Jessica was that I never actually had to talk to her. She'd continue for a long time talking, and all I had to do was smile, nod and say "yeah".
She showed me to her table, where six of her friends already were, waiting for us. Eric was one of them, and waved as I sat down.
That was when I first saw them.
(Duh. That was kinda the point.)
Anyway. There they were, sitting next to a window (HA!)with an untouched tray of food in front of them. Bella sure wasn't kidding when she said they were beautiful. If sparkly vampires were my thing, I'd say they were pretty hot.
(Don't lie, Lenah. You would too.)
(Shut it, you.)
Inside my head, I winked at her and she stuck her tongue out at me. From the corner of my eye, I could see the bronze-haired vamp look at me, and keep looking.
(Do what you want, a-hole. You'll never have her.)
(Damn right he's not.)
Oh, if only he were a real vampire, one that didn't sparkle in the sun, that turned to ashes instead. I bloody wish.
I sat down in a chair with my back to the Cullens so I wouldn't have to see the bronze-haired fairy stare at me. Alas, I could still feel his eyes on me. In my head I shuddered, and Lenah shuddered with me. Have I ever described Lenah in my head? She's so kick-ass. She wears a black white and red Gothic Lolita dress and a red and black sheathed katana strapped to her back. Her black hair's tied up in a plaited ponytail and hangs at her butt when it's out. The ends of her hair is dyed red, like mine, but it's a brighter red, like it'd been dipped in blood. She wears black knee-high boots with black thigh-high socks, and the skirt of her dress has black lace at the end of it and comes down to mid-thigh. She also wears fingerless elbow-length leather gloves. She's more-than-capable of kicking anyone's ass when pissed off. I love her so much.
(Hell yeah you should.)
(Well I do, so don't stress.)
I was getting really annoyed with the feel of the bronze fairy's eyes on me, so I turned to glare at him. As I did so, the tiny chick with the black spiky hair – I think her name was Alice – got up with her tray of untouched food and drink and gracefully walked over to the exit, casually throwing the food in a bin as she passed.
I like her already.
I felt like I had to ask Jessica, who was sitting next to me, who they were. Something just told me to. She looked at the bronze fairy and giggled embarrassingly as she saw he was still looking at me.
"That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said all of that with nary a breath in between. Because curiosity told me to, I looked over at the vamp, who was now picking a bagel to pieces. Oh joy. His mouth was moving quicker than my eyes could follow; even though his adoptive siblings were looking at anything but each other – or any person – I felt sure he was speaking to them.
"Well...they sure look nice." The words came out by themselves, and as I stared at Jessica, her image changed.
Oh God, what the hell was happening in this freak-show of a town?
Her hair straightened and grew longer, and turned black-brown. Her eyes turned brown, too, and her cheeks grew plump.
God, it was Taylor.
(How did no-one notice that she just changed appearances?)
(Maybe it's the norm here.)
(Yeah. Suuuuure.)Sarcasm again.
(Well, if Taylor's here, then Paige should be too. They are sisters.)
(Shhh! Taylor-Jess is talking.)
"Yes!" Taylor-Jess said with a giggle. "They're all together,though – Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together." Her voice sounded both shocked and like she was condemning them. Hey, it'd start gossip in Australia, too. Just not as much.
"Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked, trying not to sound like I already knew. "They don't look related or anything."
"They're not. Dr Cullen is really young, in his late twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are related, they're twins – the blondes, I mean – and they're foster children."
"They look a little old to be foster children, don't they?"
"Well, they are now. Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt, or something like that anyway."
(Wow. Textbook perfect. Literally.)
(Yep.)In my head, Lenah was perusing the Twilight book of horrors. She was reading it.
(What are you doing?)
(This is the only reading material I have. Gimmee a break.)
(Well, we can go to a library, if you want.)
"That's a nice thing to do – take care of all those kids when they were so young." I was tempted to ask just how the girl knew so much about said 'foster children'. I was acting just as much as they were.
"Yeah I guess."Taylor-Jess admitted, albeit reluctantly, and it sounded to me as though she didn't like the 'happy family'. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have kids though."
(I wonder why?)
(Must be jealous that the fairy didn't go out with her.)
(Not that! The last bit she said!)
(Oh. That. Why? We already know the answer.)
(We need to keep up appearances. Just ask.)
"Did they always live in Forks?"
"No," she replied in a tone that said, you should know! "They moved here two years ago, from somewhere in Alaska."
(How were we supposed to know that? Sure, we know because of the book, but that's not the point!)
(She so has the Taylor vibe going for her.)
As I looked at the bronze vamp, he turned and looked at me, curiosity evident in his expression. I looked away.
"If you're wondering, the bronze-haired one is Edward, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. None of the girls here are good-looking enough for him, it seems." She sniffed.
(You were thinking it too! Doesn't matter anyway. I've always wanted to say that about her.)
(What stopped you before?)
Couple more minutes, and then they all stood up and left the table. God, they were graceful. The fairy didn't look at me again, though, which Lenah seemed to like.
I stood up too, and Angela stood up with me. As she did, she changed too: her hair shortened a little, and turned a dark blond. Her eyes changed to blue, and suddenly I was looking at Melinda.
(Yep. And we haven't even hit the end of the first day yet.)
"Come on. We have Biology II now," she told me, and made for the classroom with me following closely behind her. When we got there, there were only two spare seats left. Mel avoided the seat next to Edward, much to my amusement.
As I approached the teacher I could feel one pair of eyes in particular on me. They didn't feel too nice, and a shiver passed down my spine.
The teacher's name was Mr. Banner. He signed the slip of paper and handed it back to me, then gestured to the only empty seat left – beside him. I didn't look at him, instead staring in the direction of the board at the front of the classroom. He leaned away from me, which I found amusing.
(Guess my blood smells nice.)
(Honey, it must smell spectacular, the way he's leaning away from you.)
Banner was now at the front of the class, giving a lecture about cellular anatomy. I found it interesting enough, so I took notes. It also provided a fantastic distraction from the glares given my way from the boy next to me.
(He's over 100 years old. No way is he a 'boy'.)
(Next time you narrate, you can decide what to call him. Remember, I said no names? Some people want to be anonymous, hence why I named my two best friends 'Serah' and 'Claire'.)
(Awww, but - )
When the bell rang, I sighed in relief. Edward immediately rose, grabbed his stuff and almost ran from the room. Again, I found it amusing. I had to stop myself from grinning.
"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" a blond boy asked me. My right eye twitched.
"Isa," I corrected. I refused to be called 'Isabella' nor 'Bella'. I wanted to be as much my own person in this twisted world as possible. Plus, that name sounds vaguely Egyptian.
"My name's Mike. Need any help finding your next class?"
"I need to get to the gym. I think I can find it on my own."
"That's my next class too," he said excitedly. Good God.
As he accompanied me to class, he supplied most of the conversation. Kind of like Jess-Taylor.
(They'd be a great couple.)
As we entered the gym, he asked me something I didn't want to be asked. "Did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that."
I shrugged. "Maybe he doesn't like newbies too much."
He frowned, but otherwise did nothing to prove I was wrong. "He's weird. If I had the chance to sit next to you, I would have talked to you."
(We know you would have.)
I escaped into the girls' locker room. When I came back out, the teacher, Coach Clapp, gave me a uniform to put in my locker but didn't make me participate. Too bad, too. I like P.E, so it was torture for me to have to watch four games of volleyball running simultaneously. When the bell finally rang, I stood and ran into the girls' locker room to avoid Mike, who seemed to have taken a liking to me.
(No surprises there.)
(Please don't. You'll make me shudder.)
(He likes you, he likes you!)
When I'd grabbed my stuff, I made my way to the office, where, of course, Edward already was, arguing with the lady about shifting from sixth-hour biology to some other time.
And to think, all this was about me and my sweet-smelling blood. I almost laughed out loud.
Turns out I didn't need to. When a girl stepped inside the office from the front entrance, a gust of wind blew in, sending my scent over to him. He turned and glared at me. I just smiled back and waved.
He looked a tiny bit confused at that, but he then turned and said to the office lady, "Never mind then. I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for you help."
And then he walked out of the office like the chicken he was. I stepped forward, unable to hide my smile.
"How was your day?" the recipient asked of me.
My smile grew. "It was great."
A/N: Done! Hope you liked this significantly longer chapter. Could I ask you again to review? It would make me feel a lot better about this story.