MY MOTHER DROVE ME TO THE AIRPORT WITH THE windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in New York, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt— sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.
In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America.
It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen.
That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Derek Bishop, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead.
It was to Forks that I now exiled myself — an action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks.
I loved New York. I loved the sun and the blistering heat in the summer, I loved the winters. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city.
"Kate," my mom said to me— the last of a thousand times — before I got on the plane. "You don't have to do this."
My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt a spasm of panic as I stared at her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leave my loving, erratic, harebrained mother to fend for herself? Of course she had Jack now, so the bills would probably get paid, there would be food in the refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost, but still...
"I want to go," I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, but I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now.
"Tell Derek I said hi."
"I will."
"I'll see you soon," she insisted. "You can come home whenever you want— I'll come right back as soon as you need me."
But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise.
"Don't worry about me," I urged. "It'll be great. I love you, Mom."
She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone.
It's a six-hour flight from New York to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Derek, though, I was a little worried about.
Derek had really been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree or permanence. He'd already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car.
But it was sure to be awkward with Derek. Neither of us was what anyone would call verbose, and I didn't know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision— like my mother before me, I hadn't made a secret of my distaste for Forks.
When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen— just unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun.
Derek was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Derek is a police Chief Bishop to the good people of Forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop.
Derek gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane.
"It's good to see you, Katy." he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me. "You haven't changed much. How's Eleanor?"
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Till Forever is Ours
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