"Edward, you really don't have to go. I mean I could, umm, you know…."

"Mom," I sighed in exasperation. She was at it again, trying to convince me not to leave. Not to get on the plane and fly away from her, but it was to late for that, my decision was made.

"Mom, please stop trying to convince me not to leave. I am about to board this plane to Washington. There is really nothing more you can say, or do for that matter, to convince me to stay." I reached down to pick up my carry-on bag.

"Oh, okay," she said in a defeated voice. The change in the sound of her voice made me look up. Her normally beautiful face was distorted in a frown.

"Oh, come on, Mom. I am only a plane ride away. It's not like I won't come home to visit, or anything. Oh come on! Please don't cry! Mom!" She sniffed and wiped at her eyes.

"Okay. Okay. Go ahead. I'll be fine."

I pulled her into a hug and then held her at arms length. "I'll call you as soon as I get there. I promise." I kissed her forehead and then squeezed her tightly. "I love you."

"I love you too, Honey."

I walked away from my mother, towards the desk from which a female worker was calling for boarding passes.

As soon as I had found my seat I stowed my bag and settled into my seat to endure the plane ride to Seattle.

I walked off the small plane I had connected to in a little town outside Forks called Port Angeles. Forks was my desired destination or so I had convinced myself. I quickly picked out Charlie's police cruiser, and walked to where he stood.

"Hi Dad," I said quietly, head bowed against the light rain that was falling.

"Hey kid," he replied and reached to take the largest of three bags I held in my hands.

"No, that's okay. I've got it." I said and tossed my bags into the backseat. I slid inside the car, followed closely by Charlie. In my head that's what I referred to him as, out loud….. well that was another story.

The car ride home was longer than any other time I could remember. I had developed the habit of spending the summer in Forks, well not the whole summer just a few weeks. It was nice to get out of the heat and humidity of Mississippi for a while.

The car ride passed with a minimal amount of boring small talk up until I thought about needing to get a car.

"So Dad, I have a little money saved up, and I was thinking about getting a car so I don't have to ride around with you in the cruiser, no offense intended." The words came out in a rush, that reflected my need to get this conversation over with.

"Well, I sort of got you a car. A truck actually." I cringed inwardly. If he had gotten me a truck, then it was probably older than me by about 40 years, and that would make it a 1957 model at best.

"Dad….," I said slowly, cautiously. "What do you mean you got me a truck?"

"Well you remember my friend Bill down at the station? He has a son a few years younger than you."

"No Dad, I can't say that I do. Anyway, what about your friend Bill?"

"Well, he got into a car wreck a while back, and well he doesn't need his truck anymore so I offered to buy it from him for you but he wouldn't let me pay for it so I ….."

"So I don't have a truck?"

"You do, he just wouldn't let me pay for it."

I put a hand to my temple. I couldn't believe this I had a 30 year old, maybe more, truck on my hands and I would have to pay for whatever had to be repaired, and however often the repairs would need to be made. Wonderful. One more thing I would have to worry about.

"I know what you're thinking. The truck's in great shape. It doesn't go very fast, but the engine's in very good condition, so you won't be having to take it to the shop, and all that." I breathed a sigh of relief as the thoughts of engine trouble vanished. Well I guess it wasn't so bad that the truck was old. Really, all I needed was something to get me from point A to point B.

"Thanks Dad," I said quietly from my seat. Charlie wasn't much for big shows of emotions, so he blushed and nodded, looking out the window at the trees he probably had seen a million times over.

In a matter of moments, it seemed, we were at the familiar small house that I remembered so well. I got of the cruiser and opened the back door to get my bags. As I did this something large, red and ancient caught my attention. I turned in the direction I had caught the glimpse and saw a rust red 1957 Ford truck parked to the left of the brick walkway. I was surprised that I actually liked the truck. It seemed familiar in a comforting sort of way.

"So what do you think?" Charlie said as he caught me appraising the truck.

"I like it," I said and genuinely meant it.

He nodded and grabbed a couple of the bags from the backseat and carried them into the house. I gave the truck one last glance and then grabbed the last bag and closed the door.

When I walked into the house I heard the t.v on already. I walked past the tiny living room and up the narrow staircase. I found the room in the same state in which I had left it a few months previous. The bed, my desk, the solitary dresser. Everything was exactly the way I remembered it. The only exception was an old computer that now sat on the desk. I assumed my mom had ordered this as one of her stipulations of letting me come to stay in Forks. I knew about a few of her stipulations, but not all. The computer,for instance, was one of those things I didn't know about. A few I did though, like having me call every few days. I guess now I understood why she didn't question me when I said I would email her. She had already arranged the means for me to do what she was already planning on telling me to do anyway. I just sort of beat her to the punch. Sort of.

I swiftly unpacked the few things I had brought, and then set off to the kitchen to fix myself something to eat.

Living with my mother, had taught me a few things. Things like responsibility and how to cook. My mother had absolutely no skill whatsoever when it came to cooking. I had learned at an early age that if I wanted to eat from somewhere other than a fast food place every night, that I would have to cook myself. I had gotten quite good at it, and before my mother met Philllip, a man who was now her husband, she had come to rely on me for dinner, in addition to a few other things.

I found a pot and put some water on to boil. I wasn't in the mood for anything elaborate so I figured I would have a cup of tea and a sandwich of some sort.

After dinner I said goodnight to Charlie and headed up to my room. I grabbed a few things and took a quick shower. When I got back in my room I turned on the decrepit machine that now adorned my desk and waited for it to warm up. My mom was probably going out of her mind with worry, but I really didn't feel like calling her now. It surprised me that she hadn't called yet. But I was even more surprised when I opened my email account and there were several messages from her.

Mom: Have you made it there yet? Well I guess you can't really tell me if you're not so I guess I'll just have to wait until I hear from you.

Mom: Surely you've arrived by now. Maybe somethings happened with the plane and it's crashed! Oh, I knew I shouldn't have let you leave!

Mom: Edward Alexander Swan! You email me back this instance or I will come and get you myself! Don't think I won't.

This message was the most recent and had only been sent about 20 minutes ago. I immeadiately began typing a response answering her nervous questions and reassuring her that I was okay and that nothing bad was happening. I sent the email and shut the computer off.

I climbed iinto my bed to try and get a little sleep before my first day of High School in Forks.