Bella –

Bloody everlasting hell. This is what I got for mouthing off one too many times to my parents. Well, mouthing off in addition to being caught at a bash with pot and underage drinking, since no parent was around. Nope. Parents did not like their little girl in the chokey, not one bit; especially since it was bad for the public image. Well, at least for a minted family.

Not that I was a little girl anymore. Sixteen with an attitude, now. At least, that's what they thought. They wouldn't even listen to me. I wasn't using pot, though I had been half way to being pissed. I hadn't been banging anybody and never had. Would they listen? Oh no, of course not!

"You're keeping bad company, Isabella," Mother lectured, staring down her aristocratic nose at me. I crossed my arms over my chest, heaving a sigh and slouching against the door frame. I wasn't going to be going anywhere anytime soon.

"We don't know if this is the first time or not," Father added sternly from his seat on the sofa. It wasn't, but I wasn't bloody well going to inform them of that fact.

"We feel that it is in your best interest to get away from your friends," Mother continued, sneering the words friends like it left a bad taste in her mouth. I knew who she was referring to. James. James Lestat. James who was cool. James who was bloody sexier than hell. And they considered him a bad influence.

"Your attitude has gotten terrible since you started hanging out with that boy." Again with the sneering. Did she know no other emotion?

"I happen to like that boy, thank you very much," I shot out, defending James as best I could.

"Don't you dare take that tone of voice with your Mother," Father said firmly, standing up to move next to Mother.

"I wasn't taking a tone," I replied. I wasn't taking a tone! I wasn't.

"I'm serious, young lady. One more belligerent word out of your mouth…" Father threatened, letting his sentence trail off at the end. I rolled my eyes and looked over to the side for a moment before returning my gaze to my parents. My fuck all parents.

Screw this shit. They were off their rockers! "I'm not being belligerent!" I shouted, standing up straight and fisting my hands at my sides. Would they never listen to me? No. Not bloody likely to happen. They were the parents and they were always right. Never listen to the child. How many times had that sentiment been demonstrated over the course of my life?

"That's it. You're going to live with your aunt and uncle in Washington," Mother informed me, taking a deep breath. "I'm going to go call her now."

Sighing, I slumped back against the doorjamb again, feeling tears gathering in my eyes. Great. Just effin' great. Bloody hell. James was going to be stoked to find out I was leaving. Maybe not. He would fuck anything with legs and I wasn't giving out. V-card still present and accounted for. Then again, it wasn't like he was really trying to bonk me.

"Go to your room and start packing. You'll leave this weekend," Father ordered and, making sure I exaggerated my sigh, I left the room, going upstairs as ordered.

Aunt and Uncle, my luck, had no problem with me coming to live with them. Not at all. They'd be glad to house their niece for the next two, maybe three, years, until I graduated high school. "We haven't seen her in so long! It'll be delightful to get to know her."

Gah. You'd think I'd committed some heinous crime, not shot off my mouth on top of getting pinched. Not that it mattered what I did to break the camel's back. Mother and Father saw only: James as a bad influence; disrespectful attitude; belligerent Isabella. I scowled out the plane window, wanting to be anywhere but where I was, as my thoughts continued.

How to deal with all three of those items? Ship Isabella off to God forsaken nowhere, somewhere in Washington, and we weren't takin' D.C., to live with relatives I hadn't seen in who knew how long. Wonderful. Effin' wonderful. Live with practical strangers. This was going to be a picnic. Just a picnic.

Edward –

"Remind me again why I'm here with you?" I inquired of Emmett, playing with my tongue ring, as we stood in the Port Angeles airport, Emmett holding a sign above his head that read ISABELLA SWAN.

"I told you, dude, my cousin's coming to live me. We're picking her up," he replied, scanning the crowd. Considering he hadn't seen her in, well, I didn't know how long, I wasn't sure how he was going to tell which girl was his cousin.

"Do you even know what she looks like?' I asked, giving voice to my though.

"I glanced at the photo Aunt Renee emailed Mom," he told me, shooting me a quick look.

"Glanced. Right. So remind me again, why the hell am I here?" I glared at him, wondering if it was worth the trouble of figuring out what went through Emmett's head.

"Ummm…" he made sure to gaze anywhere but at me. "Seemed like a good idea to ask you to come."

"I'm wasting a Saturday because it amused you to invite me along?" I growled, ready to beat him to a pulp.

"Sounds right."

"I'm so getting back at you for this," I hissed, trying to think of some form of suitable retribution.

"Who the bloody effin' hell are you?" a heavily accented female voice asked. I turned my attention to its owner. The voice belonged to a short, maybe five foot five, girl with hair that reminded me of mahogany, pulled back into a ponytail. A few loose strands of hair were falling out of the hair tie and hanging about her face. Eyes of chocolate brown glared at Emmett and I from her face. She had deep red lips that were a stark contrast to her pale skin and she'd dressed herself entirely in black.

"Emmett McCarty," Emmett introduced himself, holding out a hand, which she looked at briefly before scanning Emmett head to toe.

"Why the hell are you holding a sign with my name on it?" she demanded, cocking her left hip up and resting a hand on it.

"I'm your cousin. Your mouth always this nasty?" Emmett frowned down at her.

"What's it to ya?" she shot back, not missing a beat. Man, could someone say bitch?

"I'm going to be living with you. I'd like to know if I need to wash it out," Emmett deadpanned, his usual playful tone replaced with rare seriousness. Emmett, typically, was rather easy going over everything.

But, hell, what was with this chick? Emmett and I shared a looked and I shook my head at him, unable to help him.

"You got all your luggage?" I broke in, eager to get home. Wasting a Saturday to pick her up was seriously taxing my patience.

"Who you?" she turned towards me, eyeing me up and down much as she'd done to Emmett, hip still cocked. I wouldn't have been at all surprised if she popped a bubble with chewing gum afterwards. Given that she wasn't chewing any, though, that would have been a bit difficult to do.

"Edward Cullen, friend of Emmett's."

"What did you get for coming with him?"

"Nothing," I replied, getting rather confused. Where was this conversation going?

"Short end of the stick, huh? Payback's a bitch," she smirked, causing me to smile. Maybe she wasn't too bad after all.

"So, that all your luggage?" Emmett repeated my question of earlier.

"Yeah, I got all my bloody luggage. Can we get this freak show on the road? The faster I get to effin' nowhere, the faster I get back to London," she informed us, heading off in the direction of the exit.

"Don't look at me," I told Emmett. "She's your cousin."

"I didn't know she'd be so…"

"Bitchy?"

"Like Rosalie."

"They'll get along then."

Chuckling, we followed Isabella outside, finding her standing at the curb waiting for us. "Where'd ya park?"

I nodded my head in the direction of my car, walking over to my silver Volvo. I didn't bother to check if she followed or not. Somehow I knew she had.

Bella –

I couldn't say much for being here, yet. My cousin didn't seem half bad, and his friend was rather shagtastic. Muscles. Just woken up bronze hair. I'd love to run my hands through that. Brilliant green eyes, like emeralds. Bet the girls went gaga over him. He stood about six foot. Overall, not bad, not bad at all. I'd turn in my V-card for a piece of him.

I trailed behind him and Emmett to the car, watching the hunk put my luggage in the trunk before unlocking the doors. I walked around my cousin, heading to the passenger side front seat. At least I remembered to get in on the right side. Emmett apparently had plans to sit in the same spot though.

"That's my seat," he grumped, scowling down at me.

I gazed at the seat for a moment, returning his scowl. "I don't see your effin' name on it. So, it's mine now. Ain't gonna kill ya to sit in the back seat."

"Edward!" Emmett whined, looking over the top of the car at his friend. Edward shifted his gaze between the two of us.

A crocked grin overtook Edward's lips. "Backseat, Emmett."

I smirked at my cousin, getting into the front seat, hearing Emmett mumbling.

"You never did answer my earlier question. You're mouth always so nasty?" Emmett inquired, again.

"That depends. Your IQ higher than your age?" I asked, turning in the seat to look at him as Edward backed out of the parking space.

Emmett pondered my question for a moment. "Yes. That doesn't answer my question."

"Yes it does."

"How?"

I rolled my eyes, turning back to face the front. "Yes, my mouth is usually this bad. Well, at least when I'm dealing with jackasses whose age isn't higher than their IQ."

"That's harsh."

"Cry me a river. It's life. You want harsh?" I demanded, looking at Emmett in the rearview mirror. He nodded. "Harsh is your parents shipping you off to another country because they can't stand your friends or tolerate you being a teenager with an attitude instead of the Miss Perky they think you should be."

"That's why you're here?" Edward said, obviously gobsmacked.

"Didn't I just fucking say that?"

"So are you Goth or something?" Emmett tossed out of the blue.

I scrunched up my nose. "Not really. More my parents think I'm a belligerent snot, so I dress the part."

Slowly I could feel myself relaxing around these two. Normally I wasn't this snotty or shitty, but new place. I wanted to protect myself and see what I was getting into before letting my guards down fully. My cousin seemed to be giving as good as he got. It made me like him for it. I rather admired him for hit.

According to Mother and Father I had a bad habit of speaking my mind. I didn't see it as a bad habit, though. I didn't like people pussyfooting around or sugarcoating something. Say what you think. Save us some hassle of trying to figure out what you mean. I enjoyed that Emmett didn't appear to have a filter and did just that.

"That makes no sense," Emmett informed me.

I laughed. I mean actually laughed like I hadn't in months. Things had been tense with my parents and as a result I'd been tense because of it, so my time with friends had likewise been filled with that tension. Vicious cycle. "It doesn't, does it? Parents already think I'm into the dark side: shagging, blazin', boshing, and all that shite. I'm not. Bloody hell! I'm still have my cherry! Not that they'd listen to me. I figure if they want to think that about me, then I'll dress that."

"You should laugh more often," Edward said quietly.

"I haven't laughed in a long while," I responded, turning to look out the window.

"Why not?" Emmett inquired, leaning forward between the seats.

I shrugged. "Tense between my parents and I. I guess it carried over to the rest of my life."

"So, you're not this shitty?" Emmett asked for a third time. "Wait, before you answer that, what the hell does blazin' and boshing mean?"

I looked at Emmett blankly for a moment, before it dawned on me that they wouldn't understand my British slang. "Blazin' is smoking, like marijuana and boshing is drinking." Chuckling at his persistence over whether I was shitty or not, I shook my head, answering his question. "And as to my being shitty, as you put it, mostly when I'm mad and sometimes when I'm annoyed. Usually."

Emmett heaved a sigh. "I was really beginning to think I'd need to wash out your mouth with soap and water."

Emmett-

She wasn't all that bad, when she relaxed and stopped running her mouth off. I was beginning to think she might not be all that bad to live with. Life certainly wouldn't be dull with her around.

My cell choose that moment to start ringing, playing a clip from Pirates of the Caribbean. Something Captain Jack Sparrow said. Rosalie had programmed it as a joke. I pulled it from my pocket, answering, "Hey! What's up?"

"Where are you?" a perky voice came across the line.

"Hello to you too, Alice. Driving into Forks now."

"Good! Meet us at the usz!" she ordered right before hanging up.

"We gotta detour. Usz spot," I told Edward, hanging up and putting my cell back in my pocket.

The usual spot was a small diner called Aunties. We had a regular booth in the back.

"Detour?" Bella inquired, clearly baffled.

"Yeah. We have to meet up with our friends. Alice's orders. Sorry, Bella," I told her, smiling at her.

"Isabella," she responded, the edge that had been in her voice before back.

"Sure thing, Isabella." I looked at Edward in the rearview mirror and shrugged. If that's what she wanted to be called, that's what I'd call her. I reached over the seat and squeezed her shoulder, causing her to look at me, an odd look on her face, as Edward parked in front of Aunties.

We got out of the car, Isabella trailing behind us. A tinkling bell announced our entrance in the diner and looking at our booth, I saw Rosalie, Alice, and Jasper sitting there waiting, Alice bouncing in place. We made our way over to them, Edward sliding into the other side of the booth first. I gestured that Isabella slide in next before taking a seat next to her. she looked rather uncomfortable, though I didn't know why.