Chapter Text
I didn’t go with my Dad the day he went to collect Bella from the airport, I thought I’d save them the added awkwardness of the half-sister in the backseat. Hopefully, it would give them some beloved-father-daughter bonding time. Instead of tagging along, I opted to stay at the house and complete the English essay due on Monday, and when I gave up on that, I put some music on and started doodling in my textbook instead.
Turning the volume up on my headphones, I tried to drown out the anxiety that was creeping up inside of me, tapping my fingers on the table in beat with the tune rather than at a nervous pace that would steadily increase until my muscles cramped and marks would be left in the wooden surface. In fact, my music was so deafening I didn’t notice the police car that had pulled back into the driveway at first.
Watching my sister clamber out of the vehicle I was weirdly disappointed. My sister didn’t look like much, almost identical to the photos of her I had seen around the house (except a few years older) and over very bad quality video calls. Immediately the similarities between her and I in our pale complexion and mid-brown hair were obvious, but that was basically when any hint of us being related to each other ended. I watched as she clutched a small plant in her hand, looking up at the house she was about to live in again. Dad opened the boot and started to take her bags, Bella herself swinging her rucksack on her shoulder and grabbing some things out too. I contemplated going out to help them, but by the time I’d have reached the bottom of the stairs they’d already be done, so I just continued to watch from my window like some unnoticed creep.
I finally pushed away from my desk as they headed towards the door, padding down the stairs as the beloved Bella Swan re-entered her summer home. Might as well make an appearance, now was as good a time as any.
“I-err Bella, you remember Alex?” Dad blundered his way through introductions, clearly not having planned how this bit of Bella’s return to Forks was going to go.
“Yeah,” Bella replied, looking me up and down with an awkward attempt at a smile somewhat gracing her face.
The widow’s peak protruding down her wide forehead was another unmistakable feature she must have in inherited from our father – our father – it felt unusual to say that. But if there was one feature of Isabella Swan I was drawn to, it was her eyes. I had often stared in the mirror wishing that there was something more to my plain grey ones, people with interesting eyes always appeared to be more beautiful. And Bella’s were truly nice to look at. Dark brown like chocolate and wide-rimmed with thick lashes – they must be from her mother. Dad had brown eyes, but they were almost as ordinary as mine appeared to be.
Dad looked to me and I suddenly realised that I had been staring intensely at the girl for too long to be considered anything other than judgingly. Turning back to Bella I smiled, more successfully than her attempt,
“Hey, how are you?”
“I’m good.” She replied nodding her head awkwardly and dropping her eyes to the wooden flooring.
Not much of a talker then.
I continued to observe. She was pretty I decided but in a very traditional way. Her hair was pulled back in a small hairband and a brown cardigan was worn over her shirt, in her hands, she clutched a small cactus, clearly a piece of Phoenix she had brought with her. I imagined I looked like a bit of a mess in front of her.
I hadn’t bothered to get up until at least eleven o’clock, so my hair was a mess of curls from where I’d let it dry in the air and I’d dressed in a large t-shirt, leggings and a pair of thick fluffy socks, my headphones still around my neck. Not the picture-perfect little sister she may have been expecting. Meeting in person was very different from the occasional Skype call. I was pretty sure I even still had some eyeliner smudged under my eyes from last night, despite the shower.
I didn’t dress scruffily on purpose, but then again I didn’t exactly put effort into presenting myself in front of her. If she was going to be living here with us then there was no point creating a fake image that would only be shattered the first time she saw me in my PJs, hair all over the place and glasses balanced on my nose.
Grabbing one of the suitcases from Dad, I glanced at all the bags - pretty sure I didn’t arrive with as nearly as much stuff as she did. Leading them up the stairs and towards ‘Bella’s room’ Dad said he’d cleared some shelves in the bathroom for her, which actually meant he'd moved half of my stuff to make room for her, but she just replied,
“Oh right. One bathroom.”
I was kind of tempted to make some snarky comment about our home not meeting the standards of her Arizona mansion, but one flick of the eyes from Dad and I swallowed it down. I could try and be polite for his sake.
“Here we go,” I said positively, opening the door to the room.
She glanced around it, clearly wondering why it hadn’t changed since she was last here. I sometimes wondered the same thing, for different reasons though. In the whole year, I’d been living here the door was hardly ever open, leaving me with the box room at the back of the house.
“It’s a pretty good work lamp,” Dad tried to sound normal and fatherly, flicking the light on and off. “The sales lady picked up the bed stuff and… you like, you like purple right?” He placed his hands on his hips looking down at it worriedly, as if for a second the colour of the sheets may screw up the whole homecoming.
“Purple’s cool,” She replied, clearly picking up on Dad’s efforts, “Thanks.”
Silence fell for a few moments as Dad grappled with something else to say. I watched from the doorway, leaning against it after I’d placed Bella’s bag on her bed. She’d better appreciate the room; it was almost twice the size of mine.
“Well I’ll leave you to settle in,” I said, already done with the amount of tension swallowing the place whole,
“Okay,” Dad pats the sides of his legs and follows me out the room.
One good thing about Dad was that he didn’t hover, one of the very few characteristics I’d inherited from him as well. He followed me back down the corridor, to my room on the other side of the house. I could feel Bella’s eyes watching us for a moment as we disappeared.
“Just, give her some time Al,” Dad said once we were out of earshot. “She’s not like you. Things might take some getting used to.”
I opened my door, stepping inside my sanctuary once more, unable to keep the slight bitterness in my voice after his comment, “Yeah, because it was so easy for me moving here,”
“Just be nice, okay?”
“Sure,” I replied, promising because he was my Dad and despite everything, I cared about what he wanted.
Even if that was never me.
Closing the door, I practically faceplanted on my bed. Was I a little bit bitter about the whole Bella scenario? Probably. But her awaited arrival was all Dad had talked about for weeks, months even, and I couldn’t remember the same excitement greeting me when I rocked up on the door, even if it was under different circumstances.
I wished I didn’t get it, but I did. After all, Isabella was the child he wanted with the woman he loved.
Me, I was an aftereffect of that marriage crumbling and the product of the failed attempt at love that followed.
Bella didn’t even get how lucky she was. She had a mom in Arizona or Phoenix or wherever and Bella had the option to be with her, she just chose not to. She chose to come and live in this miserable excuse for a town, which is more than could be said for me.
I mean, I was just starting to get used to things around here, not that I missed back home any less. I’d even grown closer with Dad now we were living together. We had fun. When Bella wasn’t here it was almost like, I don’t know… I guess I just forgot that he was anything other than just my Dad and that to him, I was just the other one.
Dad loved me. I knew that.
I was just being pathetic.
I’d turned down a party invitation in favour of a ‘family meal’ with Dad and Bella tonight, which would probably just end up being something stuck in the microwave and eaten on the sofa, and I was seriously starting to regret my decision to stay in. I wanted to see Harvey again, even if it only had been twelve hours – probably less than - since we were last together.
I sat back down at my desk, pulling out my sketchpad and pencils to pass the time, sparing a glance at the single photo frame I kept on my desk. Bella had no idea how lucky she was to even have a mom. I still couldn’t believe she’d chosen to live here, in this forsaken place instead of being with her, and yet, she still dared to look around it as if it was beneath her.
I didn’t know what Bella’s relationship was like with her mother. I kept reminding myself I was in no place to judge her choices and that maybe she did want to be here, to see her Dad after years apart. Sometimes I get the nagging feeling that maybe there was a reason her summer visits stopped soon after I moved in…
Taking a deep breath, I clenched and unclenched my hand around the pencil as a reminder…
Just be nice… or try to be anyway.