Chapter Text
A gasp of fresh air greeted Bella as she stepped out of the airplane gate. The mixed smell of sweat from the other passengers and screams of little children on the flight clung onto her like a parasite. While she waited her turn, she turned and stretched her sore muscles in a vain attempt to be more awake, but alas, she came out of the air-plane feeling like a zombie. All the walking, dragging, panicking, sprinting became a blur until she stepped out of terminal 1.
What laid before her was surely a punishment from whatever deity is out there.
The sky was openly mourning for the arrival of Isabella Marie Swan.
The wind and rain moved as if it was alive, sweeping over the airport grounds again and again. It fell with such intensity that it was difficult to see where Charlie was. The rain bouncing off the ground and onto her jeans, Bella backtracked into what’s left of dry land.
The pouring rain seems comical with the dryness of Arizona. And there she was, wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt and old jeans with two luggages by her side— completely at the mercy of the elements.
Somewhere between the raging storm, a shout could be heard as someone chased after their escaped umbrella, it went unregistered to Bella as she stood and stared wide-eyed, not knowing what to do. Her groan was muffled by the storm as she forgot to bring an umbrella or any rain-proofed equipment for that matter— not that it would be of any help.
So much for not getting cold and wet. She sighed, pretty sure Charlie would be at the right-side exit, where the hell could he-
A distant car honking got louder and louder and finally Bella was snapped out of her mixed state of confusion and sleepiness.
She helped Charlie to get her luggage into the car, once everything was settled, they scurried back in.
Unfortunately, the car still drove a very cold, very wet, and very upset Bella to her new home.
A silence settled over father and daughter, which felt like a familiar friend who grew out of touch. It started after a strained:
“Welcome back, kiddo. How was your flight?”
And a clipped:
“It was fine, dad.”
And so the silence reigned supreme. Only broken by radio static and occasional reports of large wolves sightings and increasing missing persons at hike trails, Charlie assured her, “they are suspected to be bear attacks, given the scars on the victims and all that,” he face turned serious next, “just don’t wander into the woods, Bells.”
The car crawled on the road accounting for the bad weather, odd bumps in the road formed a repetitive melody that almost caused her to miss the Phoenix, Forks Welcomes You! sign. And isn’t this a warm welcome, the deepening circles under her eyes an indication of her snappish mood.
They reached the house safely, which Charlie tried to joke about but received a grunt as a reply.
After they dried off and changed, he showed Bella to her childhood room that didn’t change one bit to her eyes. Some boy band poster that she was crazy about was still on the wall, pencil markings of her height were evident on the ridge of the doorway, though she was thankful that her blankets were changed to a deep-sea green instead of the pink polka dots she had before.
A tired smile and a “Thanks, dad” led to him shuffling out of the room muttering something about preparing dinner and Bella began another journey: unpacking.
Piece by piece the older Bella integrated into the younger Bella’s room, with her tiny potted cactus standing center stage at the window sill. “The cactus might rot with all the humidity in the air,” she worried.
Bella sat on the bed with finality, pulled out her phone and decided to text Renée that she arrived safe. Though she knows it won't be until the next couple of days or weeks when she replies, she’s absent-minded like that, and Bella always makes excuses for her.
Pathetic, weak-willed, Bella sat in self-loathing. Staring at the mostly empty contacts list on her phone, no friend cares enough to ask about her, to tell them that she arrived. Between a life of being tossed from one parent to another, changing schools, taking care of things for her mother, Bella has little time and less energy to make and maintain friends.
Wishing never gets anything done. She stood, tossed her phone back in her pocket, and headed down to check on Charlie. All the while, droplets of rain attacked the glass, banging like an unwanted guest to get in, and the cactus did nothing but stare.
.o0o.
“So this was the surprise Charlie told me about!” An excited grin broke out on Bella’s face, all past woes temporarily forgotten by a rusted-red pickup truck. She danced around Charlie and his wheel-chaired friend, all the while careful to avoid any puddles from yesterday’s rain, and hopped into the driver’s seat, which creaked upon impact.
Up came the smiling face of Jacob Black, her childlike enthusiasm was contagious to him.
“So…what do we think?” He spoke in a sing-song tone.
“I love it!” Came her reply without hesitation.
“Good, I fixed her up myself. All she needs now is a new paint-job and bang! Good as new,” he continued on and on about the inner mechanics of the car and the modifications he’d made and some other motorcycles that he’s been fixing and how she should come by sometime, Bella nodded along and smiled when needed.
All she could see was the little boy that she played with at the playground, building sandcastles. Man, his hair sure does look soft.
“See you at school tomorrow then” She followed up after a relative lapse of silence. Clearly, Charlie and Billy stopped their mock fighting.
“I don’t—”
“—Jacob! Stop flirting! We need to go home now!” A voice behind the car boomed, followed by giggling from two middled-aged men.
“I go to the reserve, sorry” he sheepishly said by way of explanation, hurried after his father.
A crease showed on her brow when she realized there wouldn’t be a familiar face at school tomorrow. Her disappointment faded when she gripped what she held in her hands. It was the steering wheel of her new car, it was freedom manifested.
Throughout Jacob’s adorable tangent she caressed the wheel to soothe herself. She stroked the fraying leather with a gleam in her eyes that said: maybe life in Forks wouldn’t be so bad.
Also, maybe it’s time for a test drive.
She told Charlie she’s going out for a ride, “to get used to the town.” He nodded and gave her a bit of allowance, “in case you wanna buy something nice.”
After eating heated-up Chinese takeout last night, Bella decided to go to the supermarket to pick up a few things. Might as well meet a few locals while she’s at it. Although it’s more of necessity, seeing that after the divorce, Charlie’s been living the bachelor lifestyle.
The population of the lonely fridge: three eggs, half a carton of milk, a peanut-butter jar, and some pop-tarts.
She swung the door close until it clicked, keyed the car, turning it once, twice. The truck hummed to life, bringing excitement to Bella’s eyes. Backing out of the driveway, she embarked on her second journey: finding the supermarket.
This has got to be the dimmest day she has ever seen. Shouldn’t the sky be brighter after the rain? Apparently, this doesn’t apply to Forks. This place abides by its own natural laws.
Grateful that either Charlie or Jacob topped off her truck. She drove on the winding road, hypnotized by the repeating models of houses that filled the in-between space. So far, she passed one ice cream store, a nearby clinic, a local hospital, one small fire department, and one gas station. She almost missed the gleaming sign of the local supermarket in her haze.
Its artificial lights outshone the few sunbeams that permeate through the heavy clouds. All that she needs to do is to find a parking spot in this sleepy town of 3,120.
Such a difficult task indeed.
She slugged out of the truck, finding a parking space next to a shiny Volvo. Wobbling a bit while she closed her truck’s door. The familiar jingling of keys and clicking of the lock brought her back to memories when she went shopping alone, times when she had to restock Renée’s fridge because she went out for periods of time and wouldn’t come back. Sometimes Bella feels as if she’s Renée’s personal maid, only to be tossed aside when she gets hitched again.
She shook her head as if knocking the negative thoughts out. Bella walked her zombie gait to the supermarket. Her dragging feet caused her to trip over a couple of times, muttering curses along the way.
.o0o.
Spaghetti, check.
Eggs, check.
Tomato sauce, check.
Onions, potatoes, carrots.
Check, check, and check.
Bella strolled through the aisle, pushing a cart that is now semi-full, filled with various discounted goods that she felt were a good deal.
Having spent most of her life with Renée, she learnt the power of a dollar. She peered at the prices with professional eyes, quickly calculating whether or not she went over budget and whether or not she could haul it all home.
She was in her element at the dry goods aisle. Bella purchased a few guilty delights, two boxes of her childhood cereals nestled among all other essentials.
Scanning the shelves in deep concentration, her face serious while passing the frozen fridges. So focused in fact, she didn’t notice that she was blocking the yogurt section above the milk until an arm reached from behind her.
She yelped, spun around, and clutched her carton of milk for dear life. Slowly, her eyes moved from the person’s chest up, up to his face. Meeting the amber eyes of the most gorgeous stranger she’d ever seen.
This man is too handsome to be real. His picture would be next to “drop-dead gorgeous” in the dictionary.
She moved her hair self-consciously and the beautiful stranger’s nose scrunched up, as if standing next to a dumpster on a mid-summer’s day. She could see his mouth moving yet as if she was underwater, nothing could be heard.
“You’re blocking the way.” God, even his voice sounds beautiful.
“….” One blink, two blinks, three—
“Are you moving?” His request finally made it through her fangirling. Its harshness awakened her.
“Oh!” Her blush rose with a fury causing the stranger to be even more disgusted, turning half of his face away. Horrified by this failure of social interaction, she hung her head down with her hair cascading.
“I’m so sorry” she squeaked out an apology that only a socially-awkward introvert could muster, which is to say, hardly heard. Dropping the milk into the cart with a little too much force, making a dint in the process. She left the fridge door open in her hurry.
Not daring to look back. Not daring to continue her shopping either. She headed straight to the cashier. Bella’s eyes darted around this time, checking the town folk more thoroughly. Her blush never receded, only increased as she thought of the stranger of supernatural beauty.
She walked, picking up the pace that matched her hyperventilation. The way she held onto the handle of the cart, one would think she had a personal vendetta against it.
How can there be so many damn turns in this market?
Breathing out a sigh of relief at the few people waiting at the cashier, she moved to the end of the line. There were only two people in front of her until she heard an admonishing female voice, her sharp voice pleasant despite the obvious anger.
“Honestly, Edward. You don’t have to be so rude.”
Sneaking a glance, Bella turned behind her. Eyes widening in recognition, It was that jaw-dropping stranger and his girlfriend.
“Look at her, dazed as a doe! You scared away my new friend...”
Mollified in getting caught, she twisted back and started fidgeting with a loose nail.
“….she’s right there!…don’t you tell me to shut up…go on and apologize!”
“Fine! If you won’t, then I will!”
The clinking footsteps unique to high-heels came springing to her way. If anxiety has a sound, it would be this.
Everything is fine, you are fine, just get the bags, then get out, everything is-
“Hello! I’m Alice!” piped a young woman, who didn’t look more than a few years older than her and a couple inches shorter than her. She looked friendly enough, even if her grin has a slightly deranged quality to it.
“And that emotionally-constipated oaf is Edward, my adoptive brother, he wanted to say he’s sorry for his blatant rudeness.” She twirled around and pointed at him, glaring at Edward while saying it.
“No, no, it’s alright, I was the one blocking the fridge.” Bella apologized and Alice returned with aggressive politeness.
“Nonsense, absolute nonsense, my dear! I say, I haven’t seen you around here, you must be new!” She remarked while her eyes flashed with sudden recognition, “you are the Sheriff's daughter! My, my, where are my manners, all this conversing and I still don’t know your name.” Alice flushed everything out in one go, the way she talked reflected an older time.
“It’s Bella.” She said, suspicious as to how Alice knew Charlie.
“Isabella! Oh, what a beautiful name…” Alice trailed off, a dreamy look in her eye.
“It’s just Bella.” She corrected it automatically, hating that name.
“Well, ‘just-Bella,’ I have a feeling we'll be great friends.” Alice spoke genuinely, certain of the future. Bella, on the other hand, was not so certain. Holding Alice’s prolonged eye-contact, her honey-colored eyes became increasingly unnerving to Bella, who blushed uncomfortably and looked downward at Alice.
She was wearing a fashionable short-sleeved blouse, which is tucked in by a long pleated skirt, and ended in dainty, dark heels. There seems to be a vintage aura about her, one of those classic beauties Bella sees in those magazines. Her pixie hair-cut completes her elegant look.
The last lady in front of Bella finally finished scanning her goods. The beeping marked the passing seconds in the background. Pushing her cart to the cashier, the rolling of the wheels jerked Alice’s head back to Bella.
The sudden movement caused Bella to jump, shaking the contents of her cart. Strange, they have the same honey-colored eyes, though Edward’s was shades darker.
“Miss, d’you mind moving?” The cashier said in a monotone voice that is known by retail workers universally as the I-don’t-get-paid-enough-for-you-to-keep-wasting-my-time voice.
“Ah, yes!” Bella exclaimed, appearing to have forgotten about the supermarket line. Alice and Bella fell into step together, Bella placed all her goods at the counter. She kept her gaze at the cashier, though noticing Alice still standing next to her out of her peripheral vision.
“Shouldn’t you be helping your brother?” Bella asked. Hearing no reply, she turned to Alice only to find her watching with unfocused eyes.
Her eyes were glassy, like fine mesh pulled over them. The soulless appearance pricked hairs on Bella’s neck. Something isn’t quite right about her.
“Miss, miss! That would be 19 dollars and 56 cents, would you prefer cash or card?” The cashier snapped, breaking Bella’s reprieve, she stole one last glance to find Alice normal again.
“Cash, please. Here,” Bella took out her allowance and watched it get swallowed by the cash register, then spitted out a couple of coins.
As she received her change, Alice was already picking up her bags and smiled wider than ever, like nothing happened.
“Oh, it’s alright, let me carry these, I want to make it up to you.” Alice moved out of reach when Bella came to grab her plastic bags.
“You sure?” Consumed by an irrational thought that Alice would run off with her groceries, never to be seen again, Bella kept her hand outstretched, itching to rescue what would be her future dinner.
“I insist.” Alice pressed on, satisfied as Bella retracted her hand.
“Now, where did you park your car?” She linked her free arm with Bella’s as she carried six plastic bags in her other hand. Alice’s arm was as cold as the milk from the freezer despite not touching it. “Bad circulation,” she assured Bella.
What a strange girl.
.o0o.
What a strange girl, indeed.
Bella rethought her time at the supermarket, convinced that there was something wrong, or at the very least strange about Alice and Edward.
Uncaring how loud she was being in the kitchen, Charlie left for the station a while ago when he received a call that they discovered another body from the bear attack, though this one was still alive.
This gave Bella plenty of time to overthink her latest social exploits. And criticize the mannerisms of the Volvo-driving family.
The way Alice spoke, who even says “I say” anymore? They act as if they were from another time.
Also, who on Earth is even that cold? Bad circulation is one thing. Alice felt like a corpse.
Despite claiming to be adopted and not related by blood, how many people had yellow eyes? Those were certainly not contact lenses. Edward must take her as an idiot, “it’s the fluorescence,” that gorgeous, condescending bastard.
The way Alice carried six plastic bags filled with necessities in one hand. She moved so quickly too… Come to think of it, her eyes were watching Bella too intensely, almost memorizing her features to track her down.
Or she could just be a really jumpy person. Like Alice said herself to be.
Or she could be lying.
What else did Alice lie about?
Bella stopped, not daring to continue that train of thought. She took one of the apples out of the bowl, washed it, and started munching in earnest.
A snort broke the silence, coupled with crunching sounds of the apple. Bella jokingly googled ‘icey skin and fast reflexes’ to see what comes up.
True to Alice’s words, there were ‘blood circulatory issues,’ ‘adrenaline rush,’ and other medical conditions that fit the two descriptions. However, scrolling further down on the phone, clicking to the fourth page on Google, and entering one unstable blog later, she found the word ‘vampire.’
What seemed like hysterical and fictional writing on the blog known as, Nighttime Patron of Arts, became increasingly applicable to Alice and Edward. They included detailed descriptions of vampires. All of which included key words such as: cold skin, fast movement, super strength, red eyes, last but not least— incredibly beautiful with no sign of aging. There was no mention of yellow eyes though, nor glittering skin.
It recommended some books to read toward the end of the webpage, “if you, our dearest reader, find this field of topic interesting, do peruse these selection of books. For more information about the study of the Undead, contact us privately at [email protected], we’re dying to hear your questions!”
In an even smaller print and written in smaller font size stated: “All email and IP addresses are tracked upon entering this webpage, your personal information will not be transferred to any third party organizations.”
Well, that isn’t concerning at all. Frustrated that she’s going to get spam emails later, Bella continued scrolling and snacking her apple.
At the bottom of the blog, there’s a Q&A session. To her shock, there were recently submitted questions with responding answers only a few minutes apart. Ranging with curious questions such as “where do I meet vampires?” to plain trolling “vampires aren’t real dumbass LMFAO.” And Bella’s personal favorites: “can vampires photosynthesize?” The absurdity of it caused her to choke on a piece of her apple. The answer caused her into full-blown laughter.
“Dear Amelia Johnson, thank you for submitting a question to the Nighttime Patron of Arts. To answer your question simply, no. Also, no known vampires are plants or plant-related.
The corresponding replies remained polite regardless of the question they received. Somehow always replying with the asker’s given name despite being submitted as an anonymous ask, and ended with “your extended reply would be found in your personal email. We thank you for your patience.”
Okay, that’s enough for now.
Leaving the phone to toss the apple core. Bella began to prepare dinner, thinking of leaving a plate for Charlie when he comes back and planning to sleep off this crazy day.
Only her first day in Forks, and suddenly vampires are real? As if. What’s next, werewolves are real too? And there’s unicorns prancing in her backyard? Unlikely.
Falling into her routine of washing, chopping, slicing, struggling with the tomato jars began. Among the noises of the water boiling, careful not to get burned or cut, Bella did not hear the dinging gmail notification from [email protected].