1 – First Sight

My mom drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. This town was made for me – I hated anything cold and wet.

So I suppose I'm being dumb by moving to Forks, which is almost always covered with clouds. It gets rained on more than any other place in the USA. I thought I'd escaped from this place years ago, when I moved when I was a few months old, with my mom. Then I'd been compelled to spend a month, every year, in summer, until I was fourteen. Then I finally put my foot down; and for the last three summers, Charlie, my dad, took me to California for two weeks instead.

Now I was making the journey to Forks to live with him. Totally my own choice, but an action I took with great horror; Forks was a living nightmare. I loved Phoenix. It's my namesake. I loved the feel of the blistering heat on my back, and I loved the bustling city.

"Phoenix, you don't have to do this."

My mom looked at me, and I felt a spasm of panic rush through me. How could I leave my childlike, hair-brained mother to fend for herself? Sure, she had Phil now, so the bills would get paid, there would be food in the fridge, and gas in her car, but I'd still worry.

"Aw, mom, you know I wanna go live with Charlie." I could never lie, but I guess if you say something so frequently, people eventually believe you.

"I'll see you soon. Ring me if you want to come home. I'll be right back." But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise.

So I boarded the plane, and took a four hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle. From there it was another hour in a small plane to Port Angeles. The next stage was an hour in a car with Charlie.

Charlie was genuinely pleased about me choosing to live with him, after he'd gotten over the shock. Mom was just as shocked. It wasn't as if I'd kept my hatred for Forks to myself.

I was already registered for Forks High School, and he was going to help me get a new car. But of course it was going to be awkward. I was pretty sure mom had told him about my first 'boyfriend'. I just hope he wasn't embarrassed about me being 'gay'. Neither of us were what you'd call verbose, and I didn't know what to say about it regardless.

It was raining (big surprise) as I stumbled into the cruiser. The cruiser was my primary motivation behind buying a car. Charlie is Chief of Police, and it's not like I wanna be driven around in a cop car. Nothing slows the traffic like a cop.

I stumbled into the car. "It's good to see you, kiddo… You haven't changed at all. How's Renée?'

"Mom's fine. It's good to see you too, Dad." I wasn't allowed to call him Charlie to his face. Moms rules, of course.

"I found a good car for you. Real cheap," He announced halfway through the journey. I'd noticed the way he said 'good car for you'. Not a good sign.

"What do you mean by 'good car for me'?"

"Well, it's a truck. Real sturdy." Oh, I got it. The kind of truck that would stand, unscathed, in the middle of broken pieces of car it had just totaled. Perfect for me. Accident prone, dangerous me. Great.

"How old is it?" I could see from his reaction that getting this out of him would be difficult.

"Um. Well Billy – Do you remember him? Billy Black? We used to go fishing with him down at La Push."

"No."

"Oh. Well, his sons done a lot of work on it. Good as new."

"When was it made?"

"Late fifties, early sixties, I think. But honestly, the thing runs great!" He smiled sheepishly at me.

"How cheap is cheap?"

"Well, I already bought it for you. Kind of a welcome home present… I want you to be happy here." He was looking straight ahead as he said this. He wasn't too good at expressing his emotions, and I inherited this from him, so I was doing the same when I responded.

"Aw, dad. You shouldn't have! Thanks. That's real nice for you to do that."

Twenty minutes, and a lot of wet, green stuff later, we were at Charlie's house. It was the same as I remembered; a small, two bedroom, cream house. He'd bought it in the early stages of his marriage with mom, when things were still lovey-dovey. And there, parked on the driveway was my truck. To my surprise, I loved it. I had no clue if it would run, but I could imagine myself driving it.

It took a single trip to get my stuff upstairs. It was exactly the same as I remembered; pale blue walls, pale wooden floor, and a rocking chair in the corner. The only differences was a desk, a second-hand computer with phone line stapled along the floor (a demand from my mom, so we could stay in touch easier), and some new navy blue bedding.

Charlie left me alone to unpack. It was nice to be alone and let all of my emotions wash over me, let a few tears escape. I was dreading tomorrow. Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven – now fifty-eight – students. There were more than double that at my old school. I was going to be the new boy at school, the new gay freak.

It rained that night. I couldn't sleep for the loud whoosing of the wind, and the smattering of rain on my window.

The next day I drove to school in my new truck. I had no clue where to go, so I parked up my car in the empty car park and headed for the reception. It wasn't so hard to find, as it had a FRONT OFFICE sign on the door. It was also surprisingly pleasant inside. There were cushioned chairs lined up against the wall, and a plump, friendly looking woman sitting behind a desk. I walked up to her, and she looked up.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm Phoenix Wright." Her eyes widened as she realized who I was. No doubt Charlie had been talking about me. The town is so small, I wouldn't be surprised if everyone knew who I am.

"Of course." She rummaged through a filing cabinet, and then gave me a map and a timetable. She went through my classes with me, highlighting the best routes to get to classes… as if I could get lost here.

"Thanks."

I walked out of the door. The car park was full now. It was nice to know my truck didn't stand out amongst the others. Most were older models like mine, nothing too flashy. I leaned against my car and tried to memorize the map now, so I wouldn't have to keep it out all day.

First class was English. The teacher, Mr. Mason, gave me a reading list. Most of the books I'd never heard of; English was my weak point.

"Your Phoenix Wright, aren't you? I'm Maggey" An overly helpful girl with glasses asked.

"Mmmhmm…"

"Do you want me to walk you to class?"

So we walked in silence to building 6.

"Well, good luck" She smiled and went off to her class.

The morning passed by in a similar fashion, and soon it was lunch. There was one girl that sat next to me in two classes, Spanish and Trig, and she walked with me to the cafeteria. She was rather short, but pleasant, and I found myself zoning out while she prattled on about teachers and pupils, nodding politely occasionally.

We sat at the end of a long table with more of her friends. Maggey waved from across the room. It was there, as I was trying to fit in, that I saw them.

They were sitting out of view from most people, in the corner of the cafeteria. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a full tray of food in front of them. But that wasn't what caught my attention.

There were three boys. Each one of them was perfect. The first had huge muscles, like he was a body builder, and chestnut hair, put up in and 'antenna' style. The second was taller and slimmer, but still muscular, and had blonde long hair. The last was younger looking, slim, and less bulky, with black hair brushed back neatly back. He also had side bangs.

The girls were different too. The first had short, pale blue coloured hair that was shaped around her face. She was beautiful, in every way, and she certainly knew. The other was kind looking, short, and thin to the extreme. Her hair was long, bronze-coloured and wavy, and ran halfway down her back.

Yet they were all very much alike. Each one was pale, and beautiful – dazzling almost. They all had dark, contrasting eyes, and bruise-like shadows underneath. All of their features were perfectly proportioned and inhumanely beautiful, the type that belonged on a runway. As I watched, the short one got up and gracefully strode across the room with her untouched tray.

"Who are they?" I asked. The girl from Spanish, whose name I'd forgotten, looked up and blushed. At that moment, the younger one looked up, almost as if his name had been called. He looked at my neighbor for a moment, and then looked at me.

I dropped my eyes down. I could feel my face flushing with embarrassment.

"The three boys are Apollo and Miles Edgeworth, and Klavier Gavin. The girl at the table is Franziska Gavin, and the girl that just left was Dahlia Edgeworth, and they all live together with Dr. Edgeworth and his wife." She whispered, as if it were a secret. Strange names. Perhaps from another century?

"But they're all together. Like together together. Apollo and Franziska, and Klavier and Dahlia. And they all live together." Hm.

"But they don't look related…."

"Oh, they're not. Dr. Edgeworth adopted them all. The Gavin's are brother and sister. Mrs. Edgeworths their aunt or something…" The boy with the black hair looked over again.

"Who's the boy with the black hair?"

"Oh, that's Miles. He's not with anyone… he doesn't date. I guess none of the girls here are good enough for him…" None of the girls? Hmm. He looked over again, this time with a frustrated expression on his face. He was staring at me. Me. Crap. I bent my head, glad for once that I didn't remember to gel it into spikes.

Soon lunch was over, and it was time for my last lesson. One of my new acquaintances, who constantly reminded me her name was Adrian, walked me to class. She was quiet too, and so we walked to class in silence.

All the tables were filled – well, all except one. The one next to Miles Edgeworth. I introduced myself to the teacher, and he handed me a book. I was then sent to sit next to Miles. It was at that moment that it happened.

As I passed, he suddenly went rigid in his seat. He stared at me; his eyes were hostile, full of fury and hate. I looked away quickly – I didn't know if any rumors had been spread, but it certainly looked like it. His eyes were black. Coal black. Did he wear contacts?

I didn't look up as I set my books down. A glanced once his way, only to see he was leaning away from me, on the very edge of his chair – his face was leaning away from me, as if I smelt bad. Huh. I sniffed my hair. It smelled like mint. I sniffed my breath. That too, smelled of mint. Innocent enough fragrance.

I let my hair fall down, blocking him from my view. I tried to concentrate, but I could feel the tension in the air. He never once relaxed his posture; constantly had his left hand curled into a tight fist.

The lesson dragged on, partially because of Miles Edgeworth, and partially because I had done this topic in my old school. Not that I understood any of it… but it was still dull to listen to it. What was wrong with him. Not once did he loosen the tight fist, not once did he look my way. If I didn't know better, I could swear he wasn't breathing… but of course, that would be impossible.

It couldn't be my fault. I mean, sure, he probably knew I was gay. But, surely he wasn't a bigot. No. It had to be something else.

I glanced at him one last time, and instantly regretted it. He was glaring down at me, his eyes still black, still full of hate and fury. If looks could kill. Yeah, now I know what that guy meant.

The bell rang, and before I knew it, Miles Edgeworth had risen, and was now gracefully running out the door. Wow. Well, he was taller than I'd thought.

"Are you Phoenix Wright?" A male voice asked. I turned in my place, only to find a baby-faced boy with brown hair carefully gelled into spikes.

"Yeah. Who are you?"

"I'm Larry. Larry Butz."

"Hey Larry"

"Do you need help finding your next class?"

"Um. I'm headed to Gym actually, so.."

"That's my next class too!"

We walked to class together – he never shut up, which made my life easier, I guess. But, as we walked through to the changing rooms, he asked "What did you do to Miles Edgeworth? Stab him with a pencil? I've never seen him act like that."

Oh god. It appears I wasn't the only one that noticed… and it wasn't his usual behavior. I decided to play dumb. "Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?"

"Yeah. He looked like he was in some serious pain."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I never spoke to him."

"He is pretty odd. If I had been lucky enough to sit near you, I would have at least talked to you." He lingered next to me, before heading to the Gym hall. He was friendly and clearly admiring. Well, I guess it's nice to know I'm not the only 'gay'.

The Gym teacher, Coach Gant, found me a uniform but didn't make me participate today. I watched the volleyball games, suddenly feeling nauseated as I remembered how many injuries I had sustained – and inflicted – playing volleyball.

Finally, the bell for the end of day rang. I walked slowly to the office to return some paperwork. I walked into the warm, welcoming office, and almost turned around and walked back out.

Miles Edgeworth stood at the desk in front of me, not noticing my arrival. I stood against the back wall, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Of course, things never work out for me. He had been arguing in an attractive, low voice. Trying to move his Biology lesson for another time – any other time. But of course, now he had turned slowly to glower at me – his face was absurdly attractive – with piercing, pitch black eyes. Crap. He was terrifying. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"Never mind, then," he said hastily, in a voice like velvet. "I can see it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And then he turned on his heel and disappeared out of the door.

I went meekly to the desk, and handed over the shaking paperwork (it was shaking because I was shivering in fright). I walked silently back to my truck, and drove home, dreading the coming day.