Chapter Text
Washington State is beautiful- though when Esme Platt looks inward, she thinks it has less to do with the damp, gray-green scenery around her, and more to do with the irresistible, tangible freedom that danced at the ends of her fingertips.
Her cross-country move from Ohio to the Pacific Northwest had been sudden, but it hadn’t taken her long to pack her few belongings after accepting the post of interim art department head of Forks High School, in the sleepy little town of Forks, Washington. It was about as far away from her old life as she could get; only one person knew where she was, and she trusted her cousin to keep her secret safe.
The apartment she’s renting is small- a one bedroom with the tiniest kitchen she’s ever seen, but it has a balcony that looks out over the small lake Forks had to offer, and enough space for her to keep a few plants and a row of flowers. The scent of lilies hits her nose as she slides open the screen door with her morning coffee, embracing the chill of the air, and sips at the dark liquid slowly while she takes in the morning mist over the mountains.
Today was the first day of school, and even though she’d spent the last week planning as much as she could for her handful of classes, she felt woefully unprepared. She hadn’t taught in Ohio and her teaching degree, even though it was less than a decade old, felt rusty with disuse.
Forks High School’s art department had been in shambles when she’d told the principal she’d take over at the end of their spring term, just as school was finishing for the year. It had been when she’d first arrived, essentially promised the job but signing the last of the paperwork and going over what, exactly, she was signing on for.
They barely had anything in the way of actual classes- her predecessor had taught a basic drawing course, a digital media class with curriculum from 1998, and ceramics. She’d been delighted to learn, however, that the art room had a small dark room attached to it, and she had the ability to offer photography, which had been a passion project of hers in college.
In the end, Esme had settled on a full day of classes to teach, starting with Basic Drawing in the morning, followed by Art History, Painting, Advanced Drawing, Ceramics I (with the intention to offer Ceramics II in the future, should there be enough interest), an updated Digital Media class, and ending the day with Photography. That way she was able to cover her required study hall between her ceramics class and digital media (which would also serve as her lunch period, not that she minded), and she had a free period after her first class of the day.
When she’d first posted the classes, she’d worried no one would sign up for them. But to her surprise, most of the beginner classes were packed, and even the more advanced classes had a decent amount of students, especially a handful of students she’d been told had transferred the year prior with credits. It seemed the student body had been eager for more art classes for years, and she’d already been sent emails about possible classes for the following year from parents of underclassmen.
Esme arrives on campus early, wanting to inspect her classroom once more before the students flowed in; she gets a decent spot near the soccer field, only a stone’s throw from her own window, and begins to gather her belongings, arms loaded with books and binders. With her bag slung over her shoulder and her thermos of coffee precariously balanced in the tips of her fingers, she trudges through the halls, a little shocked at how quiet it was only forty minutes before the first bell. In fairness, 90% of the town lived within a fifteen minute radius, so perhaps she’d been just a tad overzealous in her time management.
Unlocking her door, the smell of turpentine hits her, and Esme can’t help but allow a smile to curve her lips. She’d rearranged most of the classroom to her liking, settling the high tables in a semi-square so she could more easily lecture during Art History, and to make Painting easier for modeling. Gone were the outdated references- she’d brought a few of her own precious paintings in, her apartment too small to display them, and a few pieces she’d found at the Goodwill. It was a decently sized room once she’d rearranged, and she’d placed her desk in the back corner, near the entrance to the dark room.
Setting her things down, she opens the windows a crack- it isn’t a sunny day by any means, but it isn’t raining, so she wants to enjoy it to the fullest. The fresh morning air spills into the classroom, smelling like moss and the outdoors, and Esme inhales deeply.
Next she sets about double checking the supplies she already knows are more than fine, but it comforts her nerves to give her hands something to do other than twist her fingers together. Then she goes around to each seat and sets a syllabus before it, and writes her name on the board- writing and erasing it multiple times before she truly likes it- for the class.
About fifteen minutes before the first bell, students begin to file in. Being as her homeroom class is also Beginning Drawing, it’s mostly timid freshman, though she has a handful of seniors who want an easy A their last year, and a smattering of sophomores and juniors as well. Before long, the room is filled with chattering kids- friends catching up after winter break fills the room in a low hum, and the pit of Esme’s stomach warms.
After the bell she introduces herself and then takes attendance, working at committing each child to memory from their face and voice and nickname. Her homeroom totals 17, and once they’re all accounted for and morning announcements have sounded off overhead, she begins to go over the syllabus. The period breezes by, the next bell sounding before she even realizes, and then Esme is left with an entire free period before her next whirlwind of classes.
She forces herself to eat the yogurt she’d brought, knowing she needed more in her stomach than just coffee, and begins setting up for her next class- Art History. This class was mostly seniors, though a few juniors and the transfer student sophomore from the previous year were in it as well. She'd looked at the student’s transcript- it was impeccable. Edward, she believed his name was.
As the students shuffle in for class, it’s quieter this time, and she hands the syllabus out to each of them as they arrive, watching them pick their seats with quiet amusement.
The last two students to arrive are silent- she doesn’t even realize they’re in front of her until the taller one, with dark gold hair that nearly matches his eyes speaks softly in a voice like music.
“Good morning,” he greets, and she startles slightly before handing them each the thin packets of papers, smiling in her own greeting. His companion is as beautiful as he is, with messy blonde locks that fall in his eyes, the same golden hue as the first boy’s.
“Good morning. Pick a seat anywhere,” she says, and the two nod, moving just as quietly as they enter the room as they did before. They pick two seats beside each other, and away from the window, and Esme realizes belatedly it is a little chilly now that she’s had it open for awhile.
Shivering, she moves to shut it, struggling with the old crank until the taller boy comes to join her, a satisfying smack of the old metal as it shuts filling the room.
“Thank you…” she pauses, unsure of his name, and he smiles, a glittering thing.
“Edward. Edward Cullen, ma’am,” he supplies, and she nods, realizing he’s the transfer student whose file she’d read the other day.
“Thank you Edward,” she repeats, offering another smile. Returning to the front of the class, she introduces herself as Ms. Platt, and takes attendance. The other boy who had walked in with Edward had been Jasper Hale, who Esme remembers from her file reading is one of the seniors taking the course.
The class goes smoothly, and the students shuffle out as her Painting class begins to shuffle in. She can’t help but notice the affectionate kiss Edward gives one of her new students, and a girl near the front rolls her eyes, pretending to gag.
“Apparently the Cullen-Swan PDA of last year is still going strong,” the brunette whispers loudly, but no one seems to rise to the bait and respond, and the girl- the Swan half of Cullen-Swan, Esme makes the informed guess- either doesn’t hear or simply doesn’t care, tossing her glossy caramel hair over her shoulder and organizing her books before her.
Once the bell rings, Esme introduces herself once more, and takes attendance- the gossip turns out to be named Jessica Stanley, and the Swan in question is one Isabella Swan, better known as Bella. Esme wonders if this is a rivalry so much as Jessica is simply jealous Bella is dating Edward, and files it away to ponder later.
Edward appears again in her Advanced Drawing class, and she smiles in welcome when he walks through the door.
“Hello again,” she says, handing him a new syllabus as he enters the door.
“Hello, Ms. Platt,” his voice is soft, but sweet, and he nods to her before he takes a seat in the same place he had for Art History, this time without Jasper by his side.
In her Ceramics I class she meets Edward’s siblings Alice and Emmett, and begins to unravel some of the Cullen (and Hale and Swan) family saga on her stop in the teacher’s lounge before heading to cover her study hall.
“I still can’t believe a young, single doctor like that has so many teenagers. All by himself!” one of the English teachers was saying as Esme filled a coffee cup, trying not to look like she was eavesdropping. “And he’s so handsome- I can’t believe he hasn’t scooped up a wife yet.”
“He’s so busy- he’s constantly at the hospital,” one of the History teachers replies, voice soft with gossip but still full of eagerness as she leaned closer to the other woman. “But all those kids are so well-behaved, it’s almost unnatural.”
“I have Bella and Jasper for AP Psych this year, that Jasper is a quiet one, I’ll tell ya,” the Psych teacher said, shaking his head. “And not necessarily in a respectful way.”
“What’s the story behind their family?” Esme dares to ask, and the Spanish teacher looks only too happy to answer.
“They’re all the adopted kids of the doctor in town, Carlisle Cullen. Edward, Alice, and Emmett are all biological siblings, same with Jasper and Rosalie, and Bella is their cousin somehow? Apparently they all moved here last year after the doctor took the position at the hospital, they used to live in Alaska before that. But get this- most of them are dating,” the glee on her coworker’s face makes Esme’s eyes widen, and the woman nods. “Edward and Bella, Alice and Jasper, and Emmett and Rosalie. I mean, it’s not like it’s incest or anything but can you imagine living with your teenage boyfriend?! As an adopted sibling??”
Esme stays quiet, sipping her coffee. It seemed like there had to be more to the story, and she hated to judge before she even knew any of them- or had even met one of them, since she didn’t have Rosalie in a class until Photography at the end of the day. And who was to say that this Dr. Cullen didn’t have strict rules for his children? She’d never met the man, she couldn’t even hazard a guess at his home life.
But based on the looks being thrown her way, she was expected to say something, so she simply said “I seem to have all of them in most of my classes,” and her fellow teachers nodded severely.
“They’re all very artsy. Especially that Edward.”
Esme thought of his kind smile, and couldn’t help but smile slightly herself.
In her study hall, it turned out, she had the whole clan.
They dominated the back corner of the room, beautiful and quiet, like something out of a Renaissance painting. Rosalie is gorgeous like the rest of them, with thick blonde ringlets and golden eyes, something haughty in her expression, but she greets Esme pleasantly enough when she enters the classroom.
There’s not much for the students to do, as it’s the first day and not much in the way of homework has been given- but Bella has her nose in a book, legs draped over Edward’s lap; Alice and Jasper seem to be having some kind of silent conversation, eyes locked as Jasper's fingers traced Alice's knuckles, and Emmett is quietly teasing Rosalie, who keeps rolling her eyes but half her mouth is turned up at the corner, clearly in amusement. The handful of other students are either on their phones, reading a book, or doing what little homework they have been given, and Esme cracks open her own novel to pass the time.
Pride and Prejudice barely holds her attention, given that she's read it upwards of a dozen times, but it at least gets her through until the bell rings. Her Digital Media class is small, without any of the Cullen-Swan-Hale clan, but in her Photography class, she has both Bella and Rosalie. The blonde managed to look quite bored, even while taking down notes, but Bella looked thrilled by the class, and stopped at Esme’s desk when class was finished.
“I’m so excited to have a photography class,” her voice is as musical as Edward’s was, full of enthusiasm, and Esme can’t help but smile at the girl.
“I can’t wait to put that old dark room to use,” Esme winks at her, and Bella lets out a twinkling laugh. It sounds like wind chimes, dancing in the breeze, and something warm settles beneath Esme's breastbone.
“See you tomorrow, Ms. Platt,” Bella waves goodbye, and Esme looks over to see Edward already waiting for her in the doorway. Esme waves goodbye to him as well, and he offers a half-smile in her direction before he and Bella disappear.
Left alone with her thoughts, Esme begins a quick sweep of the classroom to be sure nothing had been left behind, and then begins to pack her things up.
The mist was thick by the time she makes it back to her small car, which was usually a sign of impending rain. It manages to hold off until she’s back inside her apartment, the drops pinging off the tin roof as she sets her things down on the kitchen table, and she lets out a soft sigh. The first day had gone surprisingly well; the students had been kind, her fellow teachers had been receptive, and she hadn't been rained on.
She could stand for this to be her life, she thinks.