Twilight OC Rewrite VERSION TWO

Chapter Two: Open Book

When the school day was done, we changed back into our respective clothes after gym and hurried from the girls' locker room, Bella was pleased to find that we had successfully evaded Mike Newton for the moment. We walked swiftly out to the parking lot, now crowded with fleeing students. We got in our truck and breathed in unison, a sigh of relief.

Last night, we discovered that Dad couldn't cook much besides fried eggs and bacon. We requested that we be assigned kitchen detail for the duration of our stay: Bella on food, and myself on clean up as I wasn't blessed with cooking skills, either. We had also found out that there was no food in the house, so we had a shopping list and the cash from the jar in the cupboard labeled FOOD MONEY and were on our way to the Thriftway after school.

Bella in the driver's seat, she gunned the deafening engine to life. I sank a little lower in the passenger seat as heads turned in our direction. I wasn't ashamed of the truck, I just didn't like people staring. Bella backed carefully into a place in the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot. As we waited, trying to pretend that the earsplitting rumble was coming from someone else's car, I saw the two Cullens and the Hale twins, along with their cousin, getting into their car. It was the shiny new Volvo. Of course, I hadn't noticed their clothes before — I'd been too mesmerized by their faces. I knocked my elbow against my sister's arm, hinting at her to look in the same direction. Looking now, it was obvious that they were all dressed exceptionally well; simply, but in clothes that subtly hinted at designer origins. With remarkable good looks, the style with which they carried themselves, they could have worn dishrags and pulled it off. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. It didn't look as if it bought them any acceptance here.

No, I didn't fully believe that. The isolation must be their desire; I couldn't imagine any door that wouldn't be opened by that degree of beauty.

They looked at our noisy truck as we passed them, just like everyone else. I kept my eyes straight forward and was relieved when we finally were free of the school grounds.

The Thriftway wasn't far from the school, just a few streets south, off the highway. It was nice to be inside the supermarket; it felt normal. Bella and I did the shopping at home in Phoenix and we fell into the familiar pattern of the task gladly.

"I can't hear the rain outside." Bella told me cheerfully as we gathered the items on our list.

When we got home, I unloaded all the groceries while Bella prepared to cook, stuffing them in wherever I could find open space and hoping Dad wouldn't mind. Bella wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in marinade and balanced it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge. While she did that, I brought our book bags upstairs and changed into a pair of dry sweats, leaving my damp hair down to air dry and checked my email for the first time since arriving in Forks. I had one email. Bella came up the stairs not long after me and also changed, putting her hair into a ponytail. She had three emails.

Her first and my only email were exactly the same.

"Bella," our mom wrote in hers, as she started mine off with, "Alexandra,"

Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you already. I'm almost finished packing for Florida, but I can't find my pink blouse. Do you know where I put it? Phil says hi. Mom

I sighed and closed my laptop, scooting over to my sister as she opened her next one. It was sent eight hours after the first.

"Bella," she wrote...

Why haven't you e-mailed me yet? What are you waiting for? Mom.

The last was from this morning.

Isabella,