Hoping for the best, 𝐈𝐯𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐧 moves to small-town Forks, Washington to live with her dad and brother. As she's getting situated in her new school, she meets the one and only 𝐄𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧, also known as "The hair." Over time, she...
IVY DRUMS HER FINGERS ON the door to her right."So... Ivy, how've you been?" Charlie asks his daughter, trying to make small talk. He had just gotten off of work so he picked her up from the airport in his cop car. He's the chief of police.
"Good," Ivy says, distracted by the cloudy sky. It looks like it's going to rain. She's so used to the sun always being out that she almost forgot how foggy it gets in Forks. She missed it.
Beau had told her to be prepared for it, but it was still surprising. Beau Swan is Ivy's older brother who moved here at the begining of the year so that he could get them set up for when Ivy moved out here as well. Their parents split up years ago, but their mom recently remarried, and her new husband is a traveling baseball player. Since they would be moving a lot, they all decided it would be best if Beau and Ivy moved back to Washington, with their dad.
Ivy hadn't been here in years, since she was little, so when they pulled up to the house's driveway, next to her and Beau's shared truck, she felt a rush of nostalgia.
Ivy could see Beau peeking his head out the window to his room on the second floor, grinning down at her. As she exited the car, her brother ran down the steps, causing Ivy to drop her bag and run up to him, giving him a big hug. "Hey, Fuck-face," Beau chuckles.
They are pretty close, and the time they were separated from each other felt like hell. "I missed you!" Ivy tells him.
"Me too." They pull out of the hug. "I got your room pretty much set up. It really hasn't changed much, though," Beau tells his sister, running his hand through his cheastnut brown hair. Visualy he hasn't changed much. He's still pale as can be but that's a trait that we both have had since forever. The freakles on his face have dissapered, though.
Ivy grabs her bags off the floor and follows her brother inside. It's been years since she's stepped foot in the house. "Everything looks smaller than I remember," the girl says, looking around the kitchen and the living room. Furnature looks lower and the floor feels futher away.
"Well, we were a bit smaller last time you were here," Beau says, bringing a few of Ivy's bags upstairs as she follows him with the rest.
"Yeah, just a bit," she muses.
"I cleared some space on the shelves for you in the bathroom," he says as they pass it.
"Right, we share one now. I almost forgot," Ivy remembers aloud. Their old house back in Arizona was a lot larger than this one. They walk into the light purple room she spent most of her summers in.
"I was also thinking we could have a movie night tonight like we used to," Beau adds, placing down his sister's things by the door.
"I would love that," Ivy gives her a grateful smile before Beau nods, walking to his blue bedroom across the hall to let Ivy unpack.
As Beau said, Ivy's room looks the same except where there used to be a small twin bed, now a big queen bed in the corner. There's also a standard wooden desk facing the big window that faces the vast forest behind the house.
There's also a dresser with a picture of Beau and Ivy with a friend they used to hang out with all the time when they were here, Jacob Black. Beau had told her he's hung out with Jacob a couple of times since he arrived since Charlie and his dad are so close.
Ivy starts unpacking, placing her laptop and camera on the desk, putting clothes away, hanging some fairy lights around her bed, adding a few photos to her dresser, and putting her suitcase away in my closet.
"Looks good," Beau says, looking into Ivy's room as she leans against the doorway. "I'm still so jealous of your room's view." He walks further into the room and looks out the large window next to the desk that outlooks to the vast woods.
Ivy trust falls onto her bed and sigh before patting a space next to her, motioning her brother to come over and sit with her. Once he takes a seat, Ivy asks, " So, what should I be expecting from this school? Should I be scared?"
Beau huffs a small laugh and says, " No. However, you'll probably be the topic of discussion for the first couple of weeks. I'll introduce you to my friends at lunch, though."
"Fun," Ivy replies sarcastically, her eyes widening a little. "School been treating you right?"
She only asks because she knows Beau struggles when it comes to bonding with people. When they used to live in Arizona, they'd rely on each other for company constantly. One of the many reasons being without him for the past few months has felt weird.
"Yeah," Beau replies, looking down. "Y'know, social anxiety and stuff. But it's fine. I get by." He shrugs.
"Okay," Ivy replies. "As long as you're okay."
Beau seems to be doing okay in forks so far. They're both seniors.
Beau is older by ten months. He really dislikes the wet weather here. He basically can't think of it without cringing, though Ivy doesn't mind a little rain here and there. In fact, she enjoys it.
Beau and Ivy aren't similar. Although, if you were to look for what they have most in common with their parents, Beau's more like their dad, and Ivy is more like their mom, both visually and emotionally. Like how Beau has dark brown hair, light brown eyes, and is pretty introverted, while Ivy has auburn long hair, hazel eyes, and is pretty outgoing.
"Come on. I found this new show on Netflix I want to watch with you." Beau stands before taking his sister's hand, pulling her up to stand with him. They walk downstairs to the living room sitting down on the couch. Beau makes popcorn and puts on a show called 'Rain'.
They watch it until they dose off to sleep. Charlie walks in to ask a question, only to find the Swan siblings passed out with popcorn everywhere. He smiles before finding a throw blanket and covers them with it. "Night, kids."
≪∞≫
This chapter's bonus meme:
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
