Chapter One
I couldn't wait to move out to a hick town in the middle of fucking nowhere.
Oh look. My sarcasm meter just broke.
I mean, seriously. Who in their right mind sends their child, from one of the most prestigious schools in the UK, to some dumbass school in Washington? Oh right, my parents. Those idiots.
The words: "experience of a lifetime", "culture shock" and "so green!" were used. Well, let me tell you one thing- Forks rained way more than England. And that was saying something.
So when I went into the school, I wasn't expecting much.
It was tiny. There were literally thirty kids in my year. And they all flocked around me. What can I say? My British accent brings the Yanks to the yard, and they're like:
"Say mascara!"
"Say car!"
"Say aunt!"
"Say ball!"
"Say loos!"
"Say piss!"
"Say toodle- pip!"
"Say Mom!"
"It's fucking MUM," I said.
"So adorable!" They said.
"Make like Draco Malfoy and turn into a ferret," I said.
"Does that mean, like 'goodbye' in England?" They said.
"Your stupidity astounds me," I said.
"You're so cute!" They said.
So yeah, I hated Forks. And lunch. God, I hated lunch. Back in England, it was all organic, healthy, mostly delicious food. In America, it was all nachos and beef chilli and things that were clogging up my arteries just by the smell. I was going to die from coronary heart diease.
"Do you have anything healthy?" I asked in desperation. God, I had thought I'd never ask that. But at this rate, I would eat salad every day to avoid the cholesterol soaked food in the canteen. And I never eat salad.
"I think we might have salad," a girl called Jessica shrugged. "It's somewhere... I don't know, I've never taken it. But take the turkey! It's so good!"
"Those things were banned in school lunches in England," I muttered. "They were too unhealthy." But I took the salad (limp and tasteless, with ranch dressing. Ranch? What the hell is ranch? My private school had chilli and orange, and extra virgin olive oil, not ranch) and an apple. It was bruised and green. Draco Malfoy would not be happy.
At the end of this school year, I would be thin enough to be a model, I thought.
And that's when I saw him.
Staring at me.
Like a stalker.
Like a pervert.
Like a homicidal maniac.
"Who the fuck is that shovel face?" I asked in disgust. He would snap and shoot someone one day,I swear.
"Edward Cullen," Jessica giggled. "He's so dreamy."
"Is albino pale considered sexy in America?" I demanded.
"He's exotic," she sighed.
And way too intense.
YOU ARE READING
If Di were in Twilight
FanfictionA girl. A girl with a personality. A girl with an abrasive personality. In Twilight. Something to break up the long wait while Di finishes editing. This is a gross exaggeration of everything wrong with Twilight, as well as Di's personality.