Arrival

WHEN WE ARRIVED AT MY HOUSE, THERE WAS THIS AGED, faded red truck at the curb of the driveway. It had these big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. It didn't look like it'd turn on, much less ride down the street without the engine giving away. The truck seemed to boldly stand out against the alienated saturation of greens.

Dad's cruiser was nowhere in sight. I gnawed my cheek anxiously. Maybe someone dropped the truck randomly and took for the hills. I'd probably do the same.

"Who's here?" Anais glanced at the truck after she put the Accord into park.

"No idea."

"Where's Charlie?"

"Again, Ana, I don't know." I repeated and unbuckled myself to get out in the rain. My friend turned off the car and followed me.

"Do want me to stay until your dad gets back?"

"I don't mind," I shrugged. "I need your help with my Trig homework anyway."

We hurried to get our bags, rushing for the house. My keys jingle around as I unlocked the door.

"I'm gonna raid your shelves!" Anais made a beeline for the kitchen after she stripped off her coat and boots.

I chuckled. "Hey, if you find any Twizzlers, bring them up, yeah?"

After kicking my sneakers off, I tread up the narrow staircase. The wooden steps creaked under my weight, mostly under the weight of my schoolbooks. I reached the top of the steps and found myself looking into the room next to mine, just directly to the left of the staircase. It was a paralleled version of mine, though it used to be empty. Through the cracked opening, I spotted a bed and frame that hadn't been there before. Bewitched by curiosity, my legs carried me to the doorframe. My palm grazed the hardwood door, leaning the slightest force to push it forward, causing the hinges to squeal loudly. I'd have to put WD-40 on them later.

I peered inside. There was the mattress, it was set against the left wall with dark purple bedspreads neatly folded on the foot of it. An old pine dresser sat off to my left, pressed against the wall. There was also an old desk with an even older laptop laying in the center of the surface. Yellow lace curtains draped over the only window in the room that overlooked the backyard. And in the corner near the window, a rocking chair from my baby days sat innocently.

My chest tightened as the realization dawned on me.

This is Bella's room.

I knew where my father was - he was on his way back from picking her up at Port Angeles.

The thought left a bitter sensation in me. She really was coming to stay. I swallowed hard and backed out of the room as if there were a feral animal inside. I grasped the doorknob and tugged the door shut, containing the sight of the cleaned-up room.

My breath left me the moment the mechanics clicked, ensuring me the door was really shut.

I entered my own room, flicked the lights on, and dropped my bag onto my disheveled bed. I forced my thick hair into a messy bun, so it'd be out of my face when I begin my homework.

Anais' footsteps were loud as she hurried up the stairs, each thump seemingly louder than the last. Her bag accessories jingled when she walked into my room. Her arms carried a bag of half-eaten potato chips, a package of cookies, and the pack of Twizzlers I asked about. The snacks crinkled in her arms while she slid off her bag. It thudded heavily on the floorboards of my room. And after the extra weight was off, she tossed the snacks onto the bed.

"Thanks," I snatched the Twizzlers from the bed and sat at my desk, my chemistry homework already displayed on the surface.

"That your chemistry?"

"Yep."

"Oh! I've got the same paper, lemme do it with you!" She hurried to retrieve her paper from her heavy backpack.

We did our homework for the next hour and a half. It went fairly smoothly for schoolwork. We normally goof off before we even got to study or write a single sentence. I'm proud of us, I boasted to myself and rewarded myself with a piece of Twizzler, enjoying the strawberry flavoring. I twisted toward my bed, peering at the clock on the nightstand. It had just turned four-fifty-five.

"Oh crap!" Anais startled me when she dove for her bag. She tugged her phone out from one of the side pockets and flipped it open. "I forgot to text my dad! He's gonna lose his shit!"

Knowing her dad, he'd likely give her a stern lecture. Or maybe ground her. "Do you need to go?"

"Yeah. I really don't want to be grounded again," she packed her things. "I'll text you later, okay?"

"Sure," I waved at her as she threw her bag over her shoulder. "Tell Andy I said hi."

I could hear the vertebrae in her neck crack and pop as she practically gave herself whiplash to twirl around to face me. "Please don't call my dad Andy. It's weird."

"You call my dad Charlie."

"Touche."

Her dad had a simple name everyone liked to say. Andy was a nice guy. He was also one of my dad's deputies, newly promoted. He was more or less an awkward guy, a widowed father who struggled to raise his hell-raiser teenage daughter. He made it work, having made it this far with her. Like my dad was with me, Andy kept a close eye on Anais, which meant for him to know when and where she would be if she wasn't at school and to text him every other hour to let him know she was okay.

I heard the Accord outside whir to life and eventually pull away from my house.

With my friend gone, silence engulfed me.

The Twizzler wrapping crinkled when I grabbed another piece. My eyes wandered around my room, landing on several things that could interest me, but didn't. I had a bookshelf of books, but none of the titles piqued my interest. My bed seemed inviting, and the idea of sleeping through unpleasant chit-chat and a tense reunion was a pretty good idea. Though I'd still have to face Bella in the morning - that would be unavoidable.

"Ugh, whatever." I muttered, tossing the Twizzlers onto my desk. My best interest is to get comfortable and relax my nerves before Dad and Bella arrived.

I stripped myself and rummaged through my closet for a long sleeve navy blue thermal shirt and my favorite pair of gray sweats. After I'm snug, I tossed my old clothes into the hamper and collect the snacks brought up to my room and return them to the kitchen. I needed to make dinner anyway.

The yellow cabinets weren't as full as I hoped they'd be. I supposed the food fairies hadn't pitched us a visit yet. I fit the chips and cookies into the snack cabinet. I make a mental note to do some grocery shopping later and scrounge up money from my next paycheck. Shopping would have to wait until this weekend. But, in the meantime, the lasagna in the freezer would have to do for now.

Dad probably would sit back and relax after the long day and drive. I envisioned him to be too exhausted, but if he was hungry enough, he'd eat anyway edible and open up a beer.

I dig through the freezer, past the pizza rolls and an opened bag of tater tots. My fingers grasped the lasagna box, yanked it out, and shut the freezer door. After, I turned the oven on to the desired temperature and prepared the lasagna on a cookie sheet. Finally, I made myself comfortable at the square oak table while the oven heated. The electronic clock on the stovetop blinked the time in neon green - five o' one, now five o' two. Dad should've been back by now, right? I peered out the kitchen window.

That red truck still sat on the curb, unmoved like some rusted junkyard vehicle; the driveway stayed empty otherwise, littered with pine needles, gumballs, and bits of pinecones or flattened whole pinecones. Rain pelted the street, making it appear like a sleek ebony mirror. Thunder rumbled within the thick gray clouds hovering above Forks, and then the rain increased. It ultimately cooled, creating a ripple of goosebumps to break out on my body. And despite being inside, I felt the chilled waves emit from the storm through the window.

My nerves ate away at me, and my mind left for a journey of belated self-reflection. It was enormously stressful to think about Bella. What would I even say to her? Oh, hey sis! I'm happy to see you! Also, I'm very sorry I said I hated you and mom the last time we were together - no hard feelings, right?

"Why is this so hard?" I groan to no one in particular.

The guilt I feel seemed like acid reflux, just bubbling in the pits of my stomach. I had no idea what I'd say to her when they got back. I was so awful to her the last time around. The hurt on her and mom's faces when I lashed out at them was forever embedded in my mind. The little voice in my head was my own, or rather, my eleven-year-old self's voice. Her tiny voice was beyond hurt and furious.

God, I was so angry with Bella, and with Mom. I, at the time, didn't understand how hurtful my words and actions could be. I was downright horrible and agitative. The custody battle made me a bitter child. It didn't help with the hopping between states...between parents. It took a heavy toll on my mental psyche. The whole ordeal made me a complete disaster, and I know I didn't make it easy for Dad, either.

A beeping brought me out of my thoughts. The oven sang out for me, it was done reaching the temp I set it to. I get up to put the lasagna in to cook when there's a car horn outside. I shut the oven door and glanced out the window.

Dad's police cruiser pulled into the driveway. I could see his silhouette in the driver's seat...and a smaller one in the passenger's. The cruiser is parked, and its rider got out. In a way, my anxiety held my breath, essentially choking me. I feared the anticipation of meeting face-to-face her my sister.

Bella stood there, wedged between the car door and the car itself. She observed her surroundings, basking in the intense greens and grays.

They got her suitcases from the trunk. Dad chivalrously pulled a He-Man and carried all of her things, despite the obvious argument she seemed to put on. Dad didn't have it and continued forth with her trudging behind him.

Classic Dad.

My heart hammered in my chest as I watched them approach the house. I rushed to the door, clamping my clammy hands on the doorknob, and threw the opening wide open for them. Dad was already halfway up the short set of steps, his arms too full to try and open the door himself. Bella was right behind him.

Shockingly, she was the same - pale with large brown eyes, and long dark hair that pooled over her parka. I had pictured her to have this gorgeous tan - a kind of tan Miami surfers had, but she was as pale as I was. If possible, her ashen complexion stayed the same as mine.

Bella was frail-looking, more than ever. Was she sick? Maybe pale people are paler when exposed to dim light. Even if that were true, she didn't look well. She was more than just pale; it was the kind of pale that dead people developed after they'd already died. It kind of scared me to see how incredibly translucent her skin seemed to be. Was a lively ashen a color?

"Hey, Faye!" Dad beamed. "Thank you."

They entered the threshold; the door being closed behind them. I did my utmost best to avoid eye contact with Bella. A part of me wanted to know about her travels. And how she was. About her life with Mom, amongst other things.

"How...how was the flight?" I clear my throat and semi-bravely look at my sister in the same eyes I have, hugging my midsection.

Bella's pale face contorted, her eyes flitting around. "It was fine."

The words rolled off her tongue so easily, I wondered how many times she'd said them. It was probably an automatic response, knowing our mother, she most likely asked Bella if she was sure about the move to Forks. Telling people that one was "fine", was saying that to appease them and get them off the one's back. And I, for one, am one of those persistent talkers who must pry into the lives of others.

"And the drive here?"

"It was fine," she repeated and shook her parka off. "Everything seems greener than I remember."

Dad and I chuckled. "Yeah, well, it's greener when it rains. Oh, by the way, Dad, I put a lasagna in the oven."

"Sounds good, Faye." He said as he began up the stairs to Bella's new room.

"You cook?" Bella looked at me in surprise.

I snorted. "No - well, I mean I can, but this is a frozen dinner thing."

"Oh." She shuffled awkwardly and peered off toward the stairs.

"Do...do, uh, you want help unpacking?" Though I asked with good intentions, I hoped she'd say no, to save me from the embarrassment of trying to conversate with her.

"I've got it, thanks though." She declined and ascended the narrow staircase.

Whew. It seemed bizarre to be near her again. We're carbon copies, only with our own minds and voices. I suppose we sounded alike too. Maybe all of this overwhelmed her, and her walls were up, not that I blame her. I was a bitch the last time around.

I rocked on my heels, glancing around the hall. My teeth gnaw at the inside of my cheek. That was a bust. And disappointing. But also relieving at the same time.

Before I could further myself in my self-pity and anxiety, Dad bumbled down the stairs. The wood creaked under his quickened pace. I forced the worry down so he wouldn't see it.

"So, what's with the truck?" I quipped about the eyesore parked on our curb.

He looked at me. "That's yours and Bella's. I bought it off Billy."

"Ours? Billy? What?"

Dad laughed lightly and went to hang his coat and gear up.

"Wait, is that why you went onto the reservation?"

"Yeah," he answered and turned to me. "You just got your license and need a car to get you back and forth from home to school. Please try to share."

"What - " My jaw hinged open, and he bustles away, quaking with amusement. "Dad!"

After dinner, I take a shower.

I massaged sweet-scented shampoo into my scalp. A warm shock rippled through me when I moved to rinse the soap out. Once the bubbly sods were out, I scrubbed some conditioner in.

While it soaked in my roots, I washed my body. To say I was merely wasting water by taking another shower would be an understatement. Showers relaxed me, especially scalding ones. My body wash didn't smell half as good as my hair products, but it cleaned me. The loofa traveled around my limbs and midsection, leaving a wide trail of soap that was quick to be washed away by the stream of piping-hot water I stood under. It felt so heavenly, that I dreaded having to leave it. For the first time since yesterday, my mind was void of thoughts. I am content with the peace of myself.

But Bella was probably waiting for me to finish up so she could shower too.

I need to get out now, I tell myself, but the water was so immaculate, my body stalled. This would take some time to get used to - sharing a bathroom with another girl. Dad didn't take nearly as long as I do. He gets in, and he gets out. Unless he's shaving, then that's another story.

With a deep breath, I rinse myself free of the conditioner and body wash; my hands grasped the shower knobs and turned them, causing the water to falter until nothing but small droplets dripped from the showerhead. I bunched my hair up, wringing what water I could out, and pulled back the curtain to grab my towel.

The mirror was fogged by the steam.

Adjusting the towel to my body, I reached up and wiped the fog away, smudging the condensation into tears. My reflection hadn't changed since our last meeting. She continued to copy me. Her face, her eyes, her sloppy wet hair. The redness of her skin from the hot shower. Her chocolate eyes bore into mine, and all I could see was the hurricane of anxiety swirling within them. Her brows furrowed when I noticed. She didn't want me to notice; she glared at me.

I swallowed dryly. I knew it was me in that mirror. Maybe I wished she was a whole other being that played a more significant role other than a mere reflection. She was the closest thing I had to a sister - well, not anymore now that Bella was here.

"Okay..." I clutched my towel and left the bathroom, scurrying across the hall into my room.

Once the door's shut, I make quick haste to dry and change back into my thermal shirt and sweats; snug and warm again, I spied the phone on my nightstand. A frown anchored the corners of my mouth. I wasn't much of a technology person, except for the occasional checking-in. It was rarely taken out of my room, but now that Bella's here, it's about to become my one and only true love. I had three contacts: Dad, Anais, and work. Dad would check in on me during the days he worked late, and work texted me my hours. Anais usually called and we would talk for what seemed like hours.

"Speaking of..." I trekked toward the nightstand, grabbed my phone, and then plopped down on my bed. Flipping the device open, I go into my contacts, entered the messages, and jotted down a simple text to Anais, explaining I'd be riding with Bella tomorrow.

My dainty phone dinged before I could set it down.

Anais - R u sure?

Me - Yes.

I was ready to toss the phone aside when it dinged again. She answered fairly quickly. My eyes flitted across the tiny screen.

Anais - If ur sure, but txt me if u change ur mind.

I replied with a simple, "ok", and THEN tossed the phone aside. It plopped silently on my scarlet cover, essentially being swallowed by it, out of sight, and out of mind.

A bear-like and jaw-splitting yawn tore through me. That shower must've induced the natural melatonin into the ballpark. I felt sleep coming fast. However, there was something I wanted to do before I hit the snooze button and fluttered off into the dreamless realm of Loo-Loo Land.

Forcing myself to my feet, I head to Bella's room. Her door was cracked open, allowing me to see inside, just a bit. She'd just finished putting on the dark purple bedspread on the mattress. My palm met the cooled wood of the door and pressed ever-so-slightly. The hinges squealed softly and alerted her to my presence.

"Faye?" She seemed wary.

"Settling in alright?"

"Oh," she refocused on the sheets and grabbed her pillows to fluff them into their purple pillowcases. "I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me."

I examined her. She wore an olive-green undershirt and black women's boxer bottoms. Her hair was loose and draped over her pale shoulders while she moved. She looked like she was about to crash.

"It's okay if you're not," I frowned. "No one's forcing you to be all jolly and happy. Take your time, you won't hurt anyone's feelings."

She paused and straightened her posture, glancing back at me. Her face crinkled with homesickness, or so I assumed. Her eyes brimmed with tears she refused to let fall.

"It's strange being back here," she admitted as she peered around her near-empty room. She twisted around and sat on the bed. "Just like I remember. Maybe more than I remember."

I approached her, sitting next to her. The bed dipped under my weight. Our shoulders grazed together when she lifted her arm to wipe her eyes dry.

"Forks is an alien planet," I joked lightly. "I get it. Phoenix is the same for me."

"I'll get over it," she shirked away from me and hugged herself. She avoided looking at me. "Eventually."

I frowned at that. Despite having been loved by our mother, she never seemed to have the chance to depend on someone else for support. Realizing this made my anger flare a bit. It was condescending to know our mother was that hare-brained and immature enough to rob her daughter of her childhood and teenage years.

All this time, yesterday and half of today, I was worried about my own feelings, never taking into consideration hers. I detested fluctuating between our parents, hopping between the states they lived in, and now Bella is doing the same - only this time, she's mature enough, and her time here may potentially be permanent. Phoenix was her home, but now it was just the memory of one. She still was gathering herself about such a huge change, trying to cope. She needed someone to help her with that.

In other words: me.

Who would understand better than a sister - a twin sister, at that?

I took a breath. I'm way in over my head with this, but...

"I'm here if you ever want to talk," I bumped my shoulder against hers. "We can catch up and swap stories."

"...I don't feel like talking tonight." Bella leaned away from me, curling back into her bed, and cocooned herself within her blankets.

She was quick to withdraw from me. I guess I deserved that. Comforting people was never my best attribute. I should've known better than to try and bring up the past. I get up from the bed. Bella kicking me out didn't exactly hurt; as odd as it sounded.

"Goodnight." I left her to sleep, giving one last glance at her lain form before flicking off the light, and shutting the door behind me.

My bed cried my name the moment I returned to my room. The dark red comforter hummed for me to join it, to let myself be engulfed by it. It was tempting me to the dark side, it seemed. I would have liked to join in on the evil thread. Sigh. I tried with Bella, that was all that mattered, right? Maybe tomorrow won't be as horrid and humiliating as I imagine it'd be. Bella would make new friends and settle within this rainy terrain soon enough. Or at least, here's hoping. I hoped she'd make new friends. She seemed so lonely; I saw it in her eyes. An off-and-distant look in them. After a few hours together, I already saw how lonesome she is, or had become.

I shut my door and body-slammed onto my bed, plopping on my stomach. Curling into a ball in the center of my bed and seized one of my pillows. I held it in a chokehold as if my life depended on its fluffiness.

I lay there, uneven rumbles of the clouds above Forks obnoxiously drummed; slight vibrations quivered the walls. I felt its disembodied power emit through my window and floorboards. My bones seemed to rattle with them, though it felt nice. Especially during the night.

Thunder and rain were like a lullaby to me. It was my sweet serenade that soothed me into a deep, undisturbed slumber; and soon, the rain pelted like hail against the roof and sides of the house while the wind whooshed and swished outside. It was lovely.

I closed my eyes, cuddling into my blanket and pillow.

Sleep took over me.