Bella's trip to Forks went smoothly. The train didn't derail, there were no bombs, and she wasn't crushed by any billboards or power poles while eating. No electrical shorts, no explosions — just a safe journey all the way.
Only thing was, the conversation with her dad on the train was kinda awkward.
Charlie thought she was still shaken, so he tried to be understanding and took really good care of her.
Their first few exchanges were painfully dry.
"Your hair's longer?"
"Yeah, I haven't cut it since the last time we met."
"Grew fast."
Stuff like that.
Bella wasn't sure what kind of things the original Bella used to talk about with her dad, so she kept quiet when it came to the past. Luckily, she'd personally experienced the toy car incident and Flight 180, so she could talk about those.
To break the ice, she steered the conversation toward Natasha's mom. Men are pigs — talk about women, and it always gets them talking.
And sure enough, even someone as reserved as Charlie didn't mind the topic. He listened as Bella told him how she took down a mugger with pepper spray, and how Natasha's mom body-slammed someone over her shoulder. That definitely warmed things up between them.
While dealing with Charlie's fatherly concern, Bella was also thinking about how to save herself.
She didn't believe in God, and God wasn't going to save her. Only one she could count on was herself.
"We're here. Remember this place? That café on the corner — we used to eat there all the time." Charlie was driving her home in his police cruiser.
Forks had a population of just over 3,000. Typical small-town, lots of space, not many people.
Honestly, the area outside town was beautiful. Everything in sight was green — moss on the trees, leaves, ferns — all green. The air was ridiculously fresh. This really was a proper forest.
Charlie owned a small white house in town. He bought it when he and Bella's mom first got married. That marriage barely lasted a year. The house was a bit old-fashioned — two stories, lawn in the front, cars parked wherever. Garages weren't a thing in this town.
Bella glanced around. Unlike the apartment buildings in Arizona, the houses in Forks were all different — different styles, different colors. Maybe having a house that didn't look like anyone else's was a sign of freedom or personality? She didn't really get it.
Her room was on the second floor, facing the front yard. Modern floors, dark red walls. Charlie had clearly done some prep. The walls were decorated with what looked like childhood doodles, photos, and celebrity posters. The pillows, blanket, and lamp were all new. The room was small but had a second-hand computer and all the basics.
"This is for you. I didn't know if you'd like it." As Charlie was about to leave, Bella quickly pulled out the small gift she bought at the airport. With everything going on, she'd almost forgotten.
"Oh, thank you! It's beautiful!" Small gifts build bonds. After that, they went into town for dinner — Charlie agreed without hesitation.
"Beep beep beep!" A car horn sounded outside. Charlie chuckled. "That's my old friend. Come on, let's go say hi."
Father and daughter walked outside. This pleasant journey had left Charlie feeling that maybe his daughter had changed for the better. He introduced his friend very seriously.
"This is Billy Black, my old friend. And this is my daughter, Bella. You remember her, right?" The man he introduced was a middle-aged man in a wheelchair.
Ignoring the wheelchair, the guy was huge. Brown skin, square face, long hair past his shoulders — classic Native American features.
Of course, the term "Indian" isn't politically correct anymore. The official term is "Native American."
Bella showed him a lot of respect — probably too much.
Marvel Survival Rule #1: Never underestimate a person in a wheelchair. There's a good chance they're a major boss.
Bella was lucky to be walking on her own two legs, and this guy didn't rely on anyone — not the sky, not the government — and still lived just fine in a wheelchair. That meant power.
She gave him a polite and confident smile. "Hi, Uncle Black."
The Native American man smiled warmly and shook her hand, but when their fingers touched, a subtle and hard-to-spot change flickered across the part of his face hidden under his cowboy hat.
"You've gotten more beautiful. Ever since Charlie found out you were coming, he hasn't stopped talking." The man teased Charlie with a smile.
Charlie looked off to the side, a bit embarrassed. He muttered, "Keep running your mouth and I'll push you into the mud."
"I'll break your legs first!" The man in the wheelchair started joking around like a kid.
The two middle-aged men made space, and the young man who had been holding the wheelchair finally stepped forward.
Seeing how shy he looked, Bella took the lead. "Hey, you're Jacob, right? I remember you. You've gotten way bigger since we were kids — I almost didn't recognize you."
Classic opener. Works every time with guys. No one wants to hear, "You've gotten more girly since you were a kid."
Jacob had those classic Native features. Bella's greeting made him visibly embarrassed — totally looked like a puppy wagging his tail.
"You… you've gotten…" He was probably going to say "prettier" or something, but he got too shy to finish.
In the original timeline, the two were both awkward and barely talked. But now Bella had her own plan and stayed in control of the conversation.
"I remember you used to love messing with machines. Do you still work on them? Can you modify motorcycles?" she asked curiously.
Hearing his crush talk so sweetly with him almost made Jacob jump up a tree. He wasn't confident about much, but modifying bikes? That was his thing.
"You like bikes too? Want to check out my workshop?" he asked excitedly.
Bella hesitated for a second. "Is it okay if I go?"
There was the issue of the Native reservation. These used to be the lands of the original people — now "protected" by the American government. If Bella entered the reservation without permission and got caught, that'd be breaking the law.
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