A/N: This is my first published piece of fanfic. I'm pretty excited. Thank you for giving it a chance.

xxx

Chapter 1. Silver Tiles and The Captain of the Ship

'…Three teeth left his silver smile
Brushed clean three metal tiles
And tiles like parking lots
Three miles it never stops boy
You'll be okay boy
Your silver tiles…'

"This song makes no sense Edward. I mean who on earth would buy silver tiles? Sounds pretty tacky to me."

Edward turned to his father, "Who crowned you the Queen of Style?"

Carlisle Cullen shot his son a withering look.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter if the lyrics are a little confused. Point is - the song's awesome," Edward yawned loudly.

'…And all our hopes
And all our friends
Through parking lots
I found this
'B' I got in school…'

"So, what do you think?" Carlisle Cullen asked him as they pulled up to the white clapboard house. It was neat and middle class. Just like the whole town. Just like Carlisle and Edward Cullen. How appropriate., Edward thought.

"It's all very…clean." Edward shrugged apologetically at his father. He knew his answer was pathetic, but the drive from northern Washington to southern Oregon had lulled him into a strange state of semi consciousness, where he was neither fully awake nor asleep. It had only been a nine hour journey, not long by Edward's standards, but the only thing that he had seemed to notice was the changing weather.

They had left Forks amidst clouds, rain and cool air. Edward hadn't been surprised at that; he had revelled in it as his father had steered their car out of the long, winding lane that was the drive to their house for the final time. But as they drove, the weather changed. 535 miles south of Forks, only a short distance from the Californian stateline, the Cullens were welcomed to their new home with sunshine and balmy late-August weather.

Edward's first impressions of the town of Ashland had been dominated by streets lined with trees and small, comfortable looking homes. He had seen nothing of the centre of the town, but for now everything seemed rather picturesque. Quaint, even though the town was considerably larger than Forks.

My America, my Newfoundland. Edward laughed inwardly and then thought better of it. Christ, I'm a smug clown. I'll never make friends here if I act like this. If I weren't me, I'd be the guy kicking my ass for quoting Donne.

Carlisle chuckled. "I know, but I actually meant the house."

Edward looked at the house. It was nice to look at, surrounded, as it was, by trees and lushly green lawn. It had a small porch and a low roof; the rooms upstairs would have slanted ceilings.

Most importantly, it was an appropriate size for their family. The Cullen's house in Forks had been a glass-walled, modernist monstrosity. It's large, open spaces and numerous bedrooms had made the house seem stark and empty when there were only two people two fill it. But, Edward understood why his father had bought it.

Carlisle Cullen had always wanted a large family with his wife and he had unconsciously held onto that dream, even after her death. Edward had been nineteen months when Elizabeth Cullen died in a car accident. After that Carlisle had moved himself and his son from Chicago to Alaska to live with his sister and their family. Tanya had looked after Edward, as well as her own children, so Carlisle could work the long hours his career as a surgeon demanded of him. When Edward became old enough to look after himself, Carlisle accepted a job offer in Forks and bought the large, white house on the outskirts of the town. But Carlisle had been born in California, had met his wife there. After having spent the last two decades living in a cool climate, he was drawn a little further south, towards slightly milder weather.

Edward knew that his father had worried about uprooting him for his last year of high school. Carlisle did not understand that had Edward never really felt at home in Forks, had never really made friends.

As Edward looked at the modest but pretty, three-bedroom house, he saw that his father was finally ready to move on with his life. To accept the fact that his wife would never return, never bless him with any additional children, and to attempt to make the best of his own and his son's life.

The house is perfect, Edward thought.

"I like it, Dad."

xxx

Two and a half hours later they had emptied the moving van they had hired to trail them from Washington of their belongings. The movers had left and Carlisle and Edward were now facing the daunting task of unpacking.

"Hoarding is a lady disease. We're two guys Edward; we shouldn't need this much stuff," Carlisle said as they surveyed the mountain of uniform, brown boxes that had been labelled 'Lounge' and were now piled in the living room.

"Maybe we should get started on the bedrooms; I'd rather put our beds together so we have somewhere to sleep by tonight, than spend the evening setting up the surround sound system," Edward suggested.

Well, look who's being all sensible and shit, Mr. I'd-rather-eat-ice-cream-for-breakfast-thanks.

Carlisle laughed, "Well, look who's being all sensible and stuff, Mr. I'd-rather-eat-ice-cream-for-breakfast-thanks."

Okay. That was creepy.

Edward, worried that he was turning into a foul-mouthed version of his own father, just nodded and rushed upstairs.

Within another hour and a half they had assembled their beds. It had taken them slightly longer than anticipated, because they had set up Edward's stereo and were playing 'Black Betty' on repeat. Ram Jam had been encouraging Carlisle and Edward to stop putting the beds together repeatedly for air guitar interludes. Accordingly, they were getting rather hungry. It was eight o'clock, but they had yet to unpack any kitchen utensils.

"Well, we've been real men today, with all the heavy lifting and bed-building we've been doing. Why don't we continue in that vein and go pick up some greasy takeout for dinner?" Carlisle, ever the responsible doctor, asked.

Edward gave his assent, "Yeah, but we might need to shower first." He sniffed his father, "You smell like something died on you, so I'm guessing I do, too."

Carlisle lifted an arm and sniffed his underarm in a similar fashion. "Don't know what you're talking about, son. That's real man's sweat – the stuff angel's breath is made out of." He grinned at his son and added, "Meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes."

Edward took a quick shower and then tried to find some clothes in the boxes and suitcases that filled his room. He heard his father descend the stairs and a moment later a high-pitched "Yoo-hoo!" drifted up to his bedroom. Edward bounded down the stairs, while simultaneously pulling a t-shirt over his head and shouting "Dad that was a very feminine sound you just made. Did you hurt any important bits?"

Suddenly he heard a booming laugh from the direction of the front door. Edward's head whipped up to see a giant of a teenage boy and a plump middle aged lady, with a pink blush and a shocked expression covering her face, standing in the open doorway.

How the hell did they get in here? Edward panicked, wondering if they had moved to a town where it was okay for people to break and enter.

The woman still seemed a little out-of-sorts, so her son, or what Edward assumed to be her son, stepped in. "Hi, we came to introduce ourselves, well rather my mother wanted to introduce herself, and dragged me here for moral support. Your front door was open."

"Oh, um…hello?" Smoooooooth, Edward.

The lady recovered her composure and smiled kindly at Edward. "Hello dear. We saw you move in earlier, but I was completely unprepared so I quickly made you these." she said, holding out a platter-full of cookies.

"Um, wow. Thanks…that's so nice," Edward said as he took the platter. Not really improving your eloquence here.

"I'm Bernadette McCarty and this is my son Emmett," Mrs. McCarty pointed to the boulder looming behind her. Edward inspected the boy's appearance more closely. He had a kind face, like his mother, with a big grin stretching from one side of his face to the other, accentuated by dimples. He had twinkling eyes and brown curls that looked a little bleached as if the boy had been spending a lot of time in the water and sun. If not for the dangerous looking muscles that were threatening to burst through his shirt at any moment he would have looked as wholesome as a Walton.

Though not as inbred.

Emmett smiled even wider, if possible, and gave Edward an enthusiastic wave with one of his meaty arms. "Hey man."

Edward was about to respond, when his father rounded into the hallway from the kitchen on Edward's right. "Edward did I hear voi…Oh. Hello…" Carlisle finished his sentence as awkwardly as his son had been conversing with the McCarties.

Maybe bad social skills are hereditary. They must think we're hermits.

Mrs. McCarty, however, didn't seem to have noticed Carlisle's less than articulate greeting; in fact, she seemed rather flustered.

Edward groaned inwardly. He was used to the reaction the fairer sex had to his father. Carlisle was tall, blonde, blue-eyed, possessed the bone structure of a young God and he had a singular effect on women. Once they found out he was single and a doctor, Carlisle did well to speed away in a blur of silver Volvo-ness.

Carlisle watched Mrs. McCarty expectantly as she attempted to get her breathing pattern under control. When she made no attempt to do anything other than stare, he offered her his hand. "Hi, I'm Carlisle Cullen. You seem to have already met my son Edward."

Ok, so maybe I still can learn a thing or two about manners from Carlisle.

Not to be outdone by his father, Edward said, "It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. McCarty, and you Emmett."

"Suck up." Both Carlisle and Emmett said under their breaths, but they smiled at Edward to show that they were only in jest.

Great, Edward thought darkly, those two will get on like a house on fire.

"I'm Bernadette!" Mrs. McCarty said loudly, having clearly just snapped out of whatever Carlisle-induced haze she was in. She then proceeded to actually take the cookies out of Edward's hands and thrust them towards Carlisle. "I made these for you." she stated with another near-shout.

Carlisle rewarded her efforts with a toothy grin, "That's very generous of you Bernadette. Thank you." There goes another Carlisle-haze.

Emmett nudged his mother gently with his elbow. "Ma, dinner remember?"

Mrs. McCarty looked at Emmett as if he had just given her the most considerate gift of her existence. "Yes, that's right! We also came over to invite you to dinner. I mean you must be in the middle of unpacking and I don't know whether you have managed to pick up any groceries, yet. We'd love to have you join us this evening." She smiled brightly at Carlisle, making Edward feel distinctly left out of the invitation.

"Yes, that would be great. We were just about to head downtown to pick up something tasteless and artery-clogging, because that's the kind of thoughtful father I am, but this sounds like a much better offer."

"Ok, well you can come over now if you'd like. Will Mrs. Cullen be joining us?" Mrs. McCarty enquired casually.

Carlisle shifted nervously, "No, it's just my son and I. I'll get the keys so we can lock up."

"So real men worry about take-out clogging their arteries, huh?" Edward asked Carlisle quietly as they followed the McCarty's down the garden path of their new home and across the street towards a yellow house. It was cheerful looking even in the orange glow of the street lights.

His father smirked. "A real man never turns down a lady's invitation to dance or dinner."

xxx

"That was truly delicious Bernadette. Howard, you are a very lucky man." Carlisle sat contended at the table, slightly patting his poor, abused stomach.

Mr. McCarty chuckled. "If you're impressed with that you should see the things she does with turkey. Come Thanksgiving you'll be begging to be let in, unable to cope with the pure torture of the smells wafting across the street from our house."

As soon as Edward saw Howard McCarty, he understood where Emmett had got his considerable size from. If anything, Howard's form was even scarier to look at. But underneath that he had the same jolly air and kind demeanour as his wife and son. In fact, all the adults in the room were currently sporting a jolly air and kind demeanour.

Probably has something to do with that second bottle of wine they just opened.

"Hey Edward, I have my Playstation set up upstairs. You want in?" Emmett nudged his head in the direction of the staircase.

Edward took one look at his father and Emmett's parents, none of the party seemingly having any intention of moving in the near future. "Sure, that'd be great."

As Edward followed him towards the stairs Emmett's huge form accidentally walked into the banister. "Argh! Motherfucker!" Emmett cursed loudly.

"EMMETT MCCARTY! Did I just hear what I think I heard?" his mother shouted at a pitch almost too high for human ears.

"Um, ah…I said little bugger, Ma!" he grinned and shrugged unapologetically at Edward.

Emmett's room was surprisingly neat. From the mischievous glint that sparkled in his eyes, and the careless way in which the boy toed off his sneakers next to his bed, Edward would have supposed it to look like a war zone.

Emmett seemed to understand the slightly disbelieving expression Edward wore on his face. "My ma cleaned today," he admitted sheepishly. Then he grinned, and nodded towards a rather large collection of games that were stacked next to his television. "So, what do you want to play?"

Edward shrugged, "Blood and guts seems like a sensible choice."

"Alright!" Emmett cheered and punched Edward's arm seemingly in celebration.

I'll celebrate, too, once I regain feeling in that limb.

While Emmett busied himself looking for an appropriately gory game, Edward had a chance to study his room. It was spacious, the walls painted a dark blue. On the far side of the room stood a bed with what looked like a handmade quilt covering it. It was a compliment to the bed that it seemed to be large enough to be able to accommodate even Emmett comfortably.

The opposite side of the room contained an entertainment system. A desk stood opposite the door in front of the window. It was covered in sporting magazines, a laptop and seemingly everything that Emmett carried around in his pockets all day long. Gum, a cell phone, money, an Ipod, a wide range of sweets and a single condom. Well…good for him, Edward thought.

Averting his gaze, Edward noticed a large yellow surf board propped up in a corner of the room, but what really caught his attention was a collection of framed photographs on top of an oak dresser.

Edward walked over to the dresser to take a closer look at the photographs. The first was of Emmett's parents on a beach, both of them sporting impressive sunburns, and grinning widely. The next was of Emmett and a pretty, blonde girl and seemed to have been taken at some sort of a school dance.

"That was taken after we won the first game I ever played for the school's team," Emmett said proudly, pointing to a third picture that showed a grinning Emmett in a muddied, red and white football uniform.

Edward turned to the last photograph. It was of Emmett and three girls.

"Are those your friends?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's my girlfriend Rosalie," Emmett said, pointing to the blonde girl that Edward recognised from the second picture. She was standing on one side of Emmett. "Those are my other two best friends," he said. On his other side was a black haired girl, with bright blue eyes. She seemed very small, especially in comparison to Emmett, and was waving at the camera. The third girl Emmett had lifted piggy-back style, and she was clutching at his shoulders. Her long, wavy hair obscured most of her face. Edward could just make out that she was laughing.

"You've known them for a long time?"

Emmett nodded, "Since we were little 'uns. They're great; you'll meet them at school. Sit with us at lunch. My ma makes us sandwiches every day and the girls take turns bringing dessert. I'll let everyone know that we have a fifth mouth to feed from now on."

Edward smiled, "Thanks." He was glad to have already made a friend, with the prospect of gaining more by association. Edward had remained largely friendless in Forks. He had trouble approaching people, but Emmett seemed social enough for the both of them.

"So what are your plans for the last week of summer?"

Emmett groaned, "Don't say that word!"

"What word?"

"Last week of summer." Emmett sounded like he was about to cry.

"That's several words."

"Doesn't matter; still makes me want to cut myself." Emmett pointed towards the photograph of his friends, "We're heading to the coast the day after tomorrow. Catch some surf. We come back the day before school starts."

"Cool." Edward was slightly disappointed. He had been hoping that Emmett could show him the area.

Pull yourself together, Cullen. You don't have to latch on to the first person that takes an interest in you. Show some fucking back-bone. This will be a good thing…I think.

xxx

It was long past midnight when Edward finally escorted his cheerfully inebriated father across the road, back to their own house. He suspected the only reason he and Emmett were able to persuade Carlisle and Howard to part was that Mrs. McCarty had fallen asleep at the dinner table.

Edward helped Carlisle up the stairs and into his bedroom. He then proceeded to take off his father's shoes.

"What are you doing, son?"

"Putting you to bed."

"But I am the Captain of the ship!" Carlisle shouted, but as Edward finally managed to untie the second shoe and pull it off his father's foot his face took on a jovial expression.

"Thank you," Carlisle managed to say, before promptly falling asleep.

Edward was dog tired as he trudged towards his own room. He shut his door, attempted to avoid the boxes that were stacked in every available space and managed to collapse on his bed, before promptly falling asleep, too.

xxx