I guess I've always been a daddy's girl. My mom passed away when I was 9 and now at the ripe age of 17, I have learned to enjoy life's curve balls with my best friend- my dad. We've always been well-off. My mom's parents owned half the city of Forks and we lived in a 5 bedroom home that felt too lonely after mom passed away. My dad got a promotion shortly after her death as the town's sheriff and I barely see him now. He's devoted his life to the safety of the city and now- his new wife. I've only met the woman twice- at the wedding 3 months ago and yesterday, when she dropped off her 18 year old son.

I've always imagined what it would be like to have siblings. What is it like to wake up to a full house with laughter and commotion? Being an only child taught me only one thing that I consider valuable-how to entertain myself. My parents have always been my two greatest fans. We did everything together: hiking, ice cream binges (mom's favorite guilty pleasure) and shameless nights of cup-a-noodles (my favorite guilty pleasure) while watching Supernatural.

She died of breast cancer at the age of 29. She was only 20 when she had me and according to my dad, I was every bit as planned as her future was before she was even born. My grandparents are basically royalty here. What's funny is, they don't even live here. Too rainy and gloomy for the Wicks. My mother was the princess to Albert and Chanel Wick. They taught me elegance and self-righteousness and to never chew with my mouth open. Although I still talk to my grandparents, I'm not as close to them as I am to my dad's father. I never knew my grandmother on my dad's side because she passed away when my mom was still pregnant with me, but I heard she was every bit as witty and all-knowing as me. In fact, I've been told more than I can count that I get all my wits from her.

My beauty-that's all my mother. Auburn red hair, light brown eyes and fair skin.

When my mom passed away, I didn't really understand what it meant to have her gone. To never see her again. At the age of 9, you don't understand the level of permanence that comes with death. But with each day, every minute and every tear on my dad's cheeks, I understood. There would be no more ice cream or instant ramen.

But I'm making it sound worse than it was. My dad took it all relatively well and we created new traditions. Ones that didn't remind us of mom and instead, made us become even closer. We started to eat dessert before dinner because we both agreed that life was too short and you should never have to be uncomfortably full to enjoy your favorite things. We started running together so that my dad could keep in shape for his demanding new job and at the same time, spend precious time together that were so hard to find. He leaves town for days at a time and even though I'm pretty used to it now, I still wish that he would slow down. I wish he would enjoy life with me without having to keep his brain numb with work.

You know what they say, though? Be careful what you wish for. 4 months ago, dad left on an unusually long trip. 3 weeks. Clay, our live-in guardian stayed with me and dad said he was leaving to Oregon to offer his services to a town in need. When he came back, he sat me down and explained that he had met someone. They had been dating for months and he felt that it was too soon to tell me. Now that woman had finally divorced her ex-husband (literally a week ago!), and she was ready to commit.

A month later, an extravagant wedding was thrown in the city of Portland. My grandparents Albert and Chanel were furious and refused to attend. They asked that I refrained, as well. They threatened to take away every penny from my father and put me in charge of all the liquid cash (a 17 year-old, but ok). My father drew up a pre-nup and the wedding continued as planned. I attended with my new step brother, Edward Cullen. We stood on each side of our parents. His- an ice cold replica of a freaking candle wax model and me, next to my warm, trusting father.

I was okay with my dad moving on. I wanted him to. But I just assumed it wouldn't be with someone that looked like they just stepped out of a meat locker. I had imagined someone with sunshine in their eyes who smelled like vanilla and smiled with all of her teeth. Not this. Not the cold, hard smirk that this woman had permanently painted on her face. Not the perfectly manicured toes peeking out of her $2,000 shoes and sure as hell not the equally intimidating son that she had brought with her.

I knew nothing about them. My dad assured me that she was sweet, that she was loving and that I would love getting to know her. He told me that her former husband had treated her horribly and left her with nothing. That he was a drunk and a low-life and he just wanted to save her. That was not the vibe I was getting. Every breath seemed calculated, every second of eye contact she established and every step she took seemed deliberate. This did not seem like a woman who could be beaten down. She was too confident and I didn't like it.

But I couldn't argue- I couldn't contest and I sure as hell couldn't tell my father that he had just married the stupidest looking bitch I had ever seen. Seriously, her wedding "dress" was half crochet-half silk. She had her hair half up-half down. And she had half white roses and half ice blue. She was a walking poster child for 'unable to make decisions on literally anything' and it took everything in me to not punch her and her stupid looking kid.

My dad started teaching me how to defend myself when I was 2. I was pretty sure I could take them both. Sure, Edward looked like the all-American football star but I had agility. I was half his size and knew exactly where to land my jabs. He was probably too predictable and easy to move around.

"Bella?" My dad called for the rings in front of me, breaking me out of my contemplation.

"Right-sorry, dad. Here you go, last chance to back out." I said as I handed him the small box while earning nervous chuckles from the audience.

The rows directly in front of us were filled with my dad's police friends, college buddies and a few family friends. I didn't recognize a single face on their side.

The ceremony was over fairly quickly and all I could think about was getting home, drawing a bath and maybe lighting a joint. Except that was pretty far-fetched seeing as we were in goddamn Oregon. We stayed in their 2-bedroom apartment for one night after the wedding and I took a flight back home the next morning so that I wouldn't miss school. Esme and Edward had to stay and get everything settled for the movers while dad had stayed with them to help. Dad stayed mainly in Oregon to make sure her ex-husband didn't bother her and visited only once in the 3 months that he was gone.

I had the whole house to my self for an unknown amount of time- sans Clay, my guardian while dad was out of town. But Clay is 67 years old and lives in the staff house almost a quarter mile away near the front gate of the estate. He did several tours in the Marines and knew his way around God knows how many weapons and has been my dad's best friend since high school. He's a strong dude and always has got a poker face on so you never know if he's actually about to hug you or kill you- perfect for the job.

I threw 4 parties, smoked about an ounce of weed and made out with more guys than I can count before my new mother dearest showed up in her new home- a whole three months later. They wanted to wait until Edward had finished his first semester as a junior in high school, same grade as me.

As far as I knew, she had never been here. And from the look on her face- she was very pleased. She walked into every room, opened every fucking cabinet and drawer and made Clay carry all of her shit into my dad's room while her son locked himself into his new quarters. I still had not had an actual conversation with her and even though I was not looking forward to it, I knew it was ridiculous to assume that I could just ignore her until she went away.

I too locked the doors to my room and blasted music through my speaker system while smoking a joint. My dad basically dropped her off, gave me a kiss on the cheek and went straight to work. I guess when you take 3 months off, they kinda need their sheriff back ASAP.

That night, I dreamt of nothing. I woke up restless and hesitant to get out of bed. I knew that it was the last day of finals and thus the last day of school so I got up, got dressed and headed downstairs.

When I got to the kitchen, I did not expect to find my new brother cleaning up the only tub of coffee that had spilled on the ground and all over the counter.

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