The Disillusioned by PhoenixRising25.pdf

The Disillusioned by PhoenixRising25

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5811420/1/

Chapter 1: Police Escort

Bella POV

The rain splattered against the windshield of the cruiser as my father, Charlie

Swan, pulled onto the one-oh-one, and I discretely checked my watch. Over

three hours to go until we arrived at my new home, because there was no way

we would be speeding. Charlie had picked me up in his police cruiser; one of the

perks of being the Chief of Police in tiny, terminally boring Forks, Washington,

was being able to use it anytime he needed to. I wasn't even sure that Charlie

owned another vehicle, which meant that I was stuck being chauffeured around in

this thing until I could save up enough money to afford something, anything else

to drive.

"How was the flight?" Charlie broke the silence with the first words spoken since

we had loaded my two stuffed suitcases into the trunk. From what I remembered,

he was a man of few words and I wasn't exactly the most communicative person,

either. My mother often described me as "reserved," or "quiet." Charlie and I

were going to get along just fine.

"It was okay. I had a non-stop from Phoenix, so it wasn't too bad. Just long

enough to wish that I had more reading material, but not long enough to want to

climb the walls." I didn't bother complaining about the whale of a man that I had

been seated next to, who actually spilled over my armrest and into my space. I

was tempted to ask the flight attendant if my ticket price could be reduced to half

a seat, but I held my tongue. My Austen collection kept me reasonably occupied,

even when wedged into the wall by the window by Shamu.

His question answered, silence fell again on the car. I stared out the window at

the side-view mirror. There was a long line of traffic behind us of people who

didn't have the balls to pass a police cruiser despite the multiple lanes, and I

cringed when I thought of all the drivers back there who were probably giving us

the finger. I turned away from the mirror, sank down in my seat, and looked

straight out the window at the overly-green landscape.

I, Isabella Swan, Bella for short, had exiled myself to Forks. Up until recently –

today, actually – I had lived in sunny Phoenix, Arizona, with my mother Renee

and her new, much-younger husband, Phil Dwyer. Phil was a minor-league

baseball player with more ambition than talent, and he was on the road with the

team a lot of the time. Though it was my senior year of high school, and I had

heard myself described as "born middle-aged," Renee still insisted on staying with

me while Phil traveled. Even when I turned eighteen a few weeks ago, she still

wanted to keep me company. I could see it made her sad, though. Her big brown

doe eyes would tear up when Phil left for an away game, and that pretty much

made the decision for me.

I called Charlie a week ago and explained that I really wanted to spend some

time with him before I graduated, and that I felt Mom would be happier if she

could have the flexibility to travel with Phil. She was always flighty anyway,

having left my father with me in tow when I was less than a year old because she

tired of small-town life and marriage. They had been married less than two years,

but I could tell from my infrequent visits to Forks that Charlie never really got

over her. Charlie had been happy to hear from me, and promptly called me back

a day later to let me know he'd enrolled me at Forks High. Within a very hectic

week, I had made a rushed trip to the mall for warmer clothing and a mandatory

raincoat, purchased my one-way ticket and made my sincere excuses to Renee

and Phil. I would miss them and the sun, but I knew everyone would be better off

this way.

Exhausted from the long, busy morning, I dozed a little, leaning my head against

the cruiser's window. I was thankful that I had chosen to leave on a Saturday. I

had all Sunday to unpack and get ready for my first day as a Spartan on Monday.

I awoke with a start, jostled against the window and whacking my head as the

cruiser pulled into the driveway.

"Sorry about that, Bells," Charlie apologized.

I looked up groggily, still processing where I was. That's when I noticed it. A

huge, old, red truck. The paint was peeling and faded, what I could see of the

frame looked rusty, and it looked like it could survive a collision with a Mack

truck, but I didn't care. I fucking loved it on sight.

"Whose is that?" I asked Charlie, not daring to hope that the red behemoth

belonged me. The window had fogged from my breath, and I wiped it down with

the sleeve of my hoodie so I could see the truck better. Charlie chuckled at my

obvious eagerness.

"Well, Bella, I figured since you'd be living here and going to school, and probably

doing stuff teenagers do, you'd need something to get around in, so I bought 'er

off of Billy Black. She's yours. Billy's son rebuilt the engine, so she's good as new.

Well, maybe not that good," he admitted, "but she's plenty fine to get around in.

Oh, just don't push her over fifty-five. Jake told me to tell you that. You

remember them, Billy and Jake, right? From the reservation?"

I nodded slowly. Billy Black was my father's best friend, and Jacob was his son. If

I remembered correctly, Jake was a couple of years younger than me. He

probably wasn't even driving yet, but I wasn't about to sneeze at his mechanical

prowess. Rebuilding an engine was pretty badass…I couldn't even put together a

bookshelf without practically losing a limb. My Dad's other best friend, Harry

Clearwater, had died a year ago of a heart attack and since then, Charlie had

been spending a lot of time with Billy. At least, that's the information I got from

our infrequent father-daughter-bonding phone calls.

"Dad, I don't know what to say. Thank you." I leaned over the center console of

the car to hug him, which was awkward enough without the Cirque de Soleil-style

contorting. Charlie patted me on the back.

"Let's get your stuff in the house so you can get settled. I'll make us some lunch.

Sandwiches okay?" he asked, already out the driver's side door. I remembered to

throw on my rain jacket before I got out. I had shrugged it off early on in the ride

because Charlie had the heat blasting.

Raising my hood, I got out and helped my Dad bring my luggage in. I just had

the two suitcases and my carry-on bags. I hoped that I would have a chance to

get more clothes as time went on, but I wasn't even sure where to shop around

Forks. Maybe the nearest city had something like a Target?

An hour later, we had just finished our sandwiches. I'd had dismal expectations of

Charlie's cooking, but apparently he'd gotten better in the years since I would

spend summers here, when we would either eat at the diner, or have bacon and

eggs. I took a quick inventory of the pantry, and discovered that it was pretty

well-stocked. We went over a list of chores, dividing up ones that we wanted first,

before divvying up the others that nobody wanted to do…mainly cleaning the

bathroom, and anything related to garbage. I liked cooking, so I agreed to do a

lot of that, though Charlie surprised me by saying he'd do his share as well. This

moving-to-Forks thing was turning out fairly well after all; living with Charlie was

shaping up to be like having an older, mustached roommate rather than an

overbearing father.

I was in the process of making a grocery list when Charlie got the phone call that

he needed to deal with a traffic accident on one of the main roads.

"Are you going to be okay here, Bells?" he asked, already putting his holster and

coat on. He had worn his uniform to come get me, which was actually more

mortifying than just the cruiser on its own. It looked like I needed a police escort

from the airport.

"Yeah, that's fine. I was actually going to take Gigi to the store and get some

more food. I'll have my cell on me."

"Sure. Here's some money." Charlie pulled a few twenties from his wallet and

handed them to me. "You should probably get used to driving that thing anyway,

before you take it to school. You don't want to go crushing some poor kid's

Corolla. Wait, what did you call it?"

"Um." I blushed. "You called it a 'she' before, and for some reason, Gigi just

struck me as a truck name."

"Gigi," Charlie repeated, shaking his head and heading out the door. "I'll never

understand women. You know where the key is, right?"

I nodded; I was sure it was where it had always been…right over the eve of the

house near the side door.

"Oh, and Bella?" Charlie said over his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here."

"Thanks, Dad. I'm glad I came." That was as mushy as it was likely to get around

the Swan house. I set out a few minutes later to go to the store and make nice

with Gigi. I needed her running well…I couldn't be late for my first day of school.

Sunday rolled around, and I spent most of the day unpacking. Charlie had left

most of my bedroom the same as when I was a little kid, but with the addition of

a double bed and a decent desk with a computer. The machine was kind of old,

but I'd deal with it. I counted my blessings; at least he had cable internet and not

dial-up.

Mercifully, Charlie left me alone while I busied myself, emptying my suitcases and

putting everything away. I also got my school bags ready for the next day, and

even picked out an outfit to wear. I hated being the center of attention, but I

knew it was going to be unavoidable. Maybe the other kids would lose interest

quickly, like bears are supposed to if you played dead to save yourself from

getting mauled. The first day would likely be just as enjoyable.

Sunday night, Charlie and I went to the diner for dinner. He said it was because

he wanted to celebrate me coming to live in Forks, but I knew not having to do

any dishes might have been a factor.

"Did you work when you were in Phoenix?" Charlie asked me between bites of his

bacon cheeseburger.

"Um-hmm. I had a part-time job at the library, putting away books and stuff. I

put some money in my college fund, and spent some having fun. You know,

going to the movies and the mall." I didn't have too many friends in Phoenix, but

I did have a good time with those girls I did like.

"That's good. Have you thought about working, or doing something around here

to keep yourself occupied when you're not at school? I gotta be honest, Bells,

there's shit to do out here, and a lot of kids get in trouble because they're bored."

I rolled my eyes, taking a bite of my own half sandwich and cup of chicken

noodle. I had a feeling I'd be eating a lot of soup…it was rainy soup weather here

all the time.

"Dad, I'm not exactly the kind of kid who gets in trouble, but I probably will need

something to do. Did you have any suggestions?" As soon as the words were out

of my mouth, I wanted to suck them back in. Great. Now I was going to get stuck

with a part-time job at the grocery store or something, where I'd probably be just

as bored as I would be if I stayed home, but just getting paid for it.

"Actually," Charlie started after swallowing a big bite, "I was thinking that I

wouldn't mind giving you gas and shopping money, but on one condition."

"Okaaaay, I'm listening," I hedged. Parental conditions were never good.

"You'll be applying to colleges soon, right?"

I nodded cautiously, wondering where this was going.

"And from what I hear, volunteer work looks great on applications."

I agreed once more.

"So, if you find somewhere to volunteer after school, that would both keep you

from being bored, and look good to your schools." Charlie looked rather proud of

himself. "I might suggest the hospital. They have a lot of stuff you could probably

do, record keeping and filing, things like that. Maybe cheering up sick kids."

The idea seemed reasonable enough, and definitely had potential. At least I'd

already be at the hospital when I tripped and fell over my own feet. I wasn't

exactly known for my coordination. Besides, I was pretty interested in studying

the humanities. I'd mulled over majoring in Psychology or Sociology, so

something medically related would probably help my odds in the admissions

process.

"I'll look into it. Maybe I'll stop in tomorrow after school and see what I have to

do to sign up." That seemed to satisfy Charlie, who didn't bring it up again for the

rest of the night.

My first day of school at Forks High dawned like I assumed most of my days here

would…cold and rainy, even for October. Having showered the night before, I

pulled on my dark jeans and a cobalt sweater, grabbed my bag and headed

downstairs.

"Morning, Bells," Charlie greeted me, already dressed for work. "Cereal?"

I picked up the box of Rice Krispies, and poured myself a bowl. I wasn't much of

a morning person, and it being so dark and cloudy outside only made things

worse. I didn't feel like I'd actually woken up yet.

"So you're going to see about volunteering at Forks General today after school?"

he checked, crunching on an English muffin.

"Yeah, might as well," I confirmed, listening to my breakfast snap, crackle and

pop in my bowl before digging in.

"'Kay. I won't be home until after five anyway. Take your time." Charlie got up

and put his dishes in the sink, telling me to have a good day. I waved, and

finished eating. I had to get going.

Like nearly everything else in this small town, Forks High was right off the

highway. The ride to the high school wasn't a long one, less than ten minutes,

but I was still glad I had left early. I had to stop by the office first to get my

schedule, and I wanted to be able to park Gigi with enough room on each side of

her. I figured it would take a little while to learn to be able to park her properly

without sideswiping anyone.

Relieved that my black raincoat wasn't going to stand out in the sea of students, I

quickly made my way to the office building. The school wasn't one large building

like mine in Phoenix had been, but was made up of about six or seven smaller

brick buildings, like little houses. It reminded me of one of those historical model

towns, and I laughed as I wondered where the tavern and meeting house would

go. A horse-drawn carriage wouldn't have looked completely out of place going

through the center. But why they had designed a school that made you walk

outside between classes in the rainiest town in the U.S. was beyond me.

After getting my schedule and a map from a slightly nosy secretary, I headed off

to my first class, British Literature. I handed my "new kid" slip to the teacher and

got my books and course syllabus, delighted to find out that I had read

everything in this class at least once. This was going to be a piece of cake.

The morning flew by exactly as I had thought it would. People stared and

introduced themselves, perfectly welcoming, though I was thankful that none of

my teachers required me to stand and give a "Hi, I'm new here" speech. Instead,

I gave what felt like a million small ones. My classes would be a breeze; it

appeared that my school in Phoenix was a little ahead of the curriculum here, so I

had already done most of what they were teaching right now. At least good

grades would be a given for a month or so. Finally, I exited Calculus, my last

class before lunch, and made my way first to my locker, then the cafeteria, to

eat.

I had made my lunch the night before, not wanting to be rushed in the morning.

It took me a few minutes to find the right building, and I was grateful that I

didn't have to stand in the long line, waiting to get food. I looked around for a

second, feeling a little lost and wondering where I should sit. Would I be better

off claiming a table by myself, or attempting to find someone I recognized from a

class? I couldn't have been standing there more than a few seconds, when I was

flagged down by a short poodle-haired girl.

"Hey, you can come sit with us," she offered. She looked familiar, and I knew I

had at least one class with her, but for the life of me I couldn't remember her

name.

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