Clearcall - Embry Call

Homecoming

Forks was a small town smothered in petrichor—trees and mist, rain and cold. The forests were dense; century old trees reaching into the clouds, while roads wound swiftly between their trunks. Nature lurked on everyone's doorstep, and cold seeped into their bones.

With two hundred or so rainy days a year, it was difficult for Madelaine to not love the dreary weather. Her sanity depended on it, really. Direct sun was rare, and when it did appear, the warmth was fleeting. As far as Madelaine was concerned dense layers of clothing, hot cups of coffee and careful driving were paramount to living in Forks.

Old-timey entertainment was a close runner-up. Forks had electricity, yes, and the internet, but outages were frequent and the connection was shoddy. Board games, cards, three die, and several thrifted books were tucked away into a crumpled box in the linen cupboard (with 'For Imergincees' written in blue crayon by a grumpy Madelaine many years ago).

One of those ancient books was in Madelaine's hands now. It's spine rested against her legs. The pages were singed yellow and smelled of cigarettes, its soft cover torn in half. She wouldn't be keeping this one in her collection, no matter how enthralling the story was.

Madelaine sat outside on the front steps. The porch was sheltered, so only the tips of her shoes were spotted with rain. She tapped her toes without rhythm.

Perhaps Madelaine should had waited inside for her father to return—she did have homework to complete. But she could hardly focus on the equations. So instead she sat outside, wrapped up tight in a jacket and scarf, flipping pages aimlessly. She felt restless, like a puppy at the door, eager for company to come home.

It was a little bit pathetic. Truthfully, she didn't care; she had a damn good reason to be so anxious.

Madelaine's sister, Bella—two years older, three notches quieter—was coming home after years of staying with their mother, Renée. If the news of Bella's return had shocked Charlie, it had caused a typical teenage reaction in Madelaine—she floated halfway between furious and elated. It was a dizzying feeling.

She could hardly believe it. Bella had spent her last stay in Forks miserable and bitter, snapping at Charlie whenever she could. Madelaine hadn't understood it, still didn't, honestly. But after a quiet summer, Bella had left and simply not come back. Charlie had taken it hard, but put on a brave face for his remaining daughter.

"Sometimes," He'd said, arms wrapped around Madelaine's shoulders, comforting her as she cried, "we can't be with the people we love."

Madelaine had mumbled, "That's stupid," into his chest and that had been that: Bella didn't come back for summer break, Madelaine stopped replying to Renée's letters and started keeping a tight hold on every letter from Bella. Seventy-eight letters stored in a shoe box under Madelaine's bed. Grouped by year with a rubber band around the waist. She replied to every single one.

In the weeks following Bella's departure, Charlie had spoken at great lengths with Renee over the phone. They'd come to an agreement that Bella's happiness and comfort mattered, and instead of Bella's six week visit over summer, Charlie and Bella would vacation in California for two weeks.

Madelaine had made sure she wasn't included in the holiday trip. Charlie had assured her that her mother wouldn't be there; just him and Bella. Still, Madelaine refused. It was a matter of principle, she thought.

Charlie had begrudgingly allowed his youngest daughter to stay in Forks, calling on his friends to take her into their home while he was away. Madelaine had spent her time in La Push, one year staying with Billy and his three children, the next year with Harry and Sue Clearwater and their two children. The last year Madelaine had convinced her father to allow her to stay at home, provided she called daily and didn't go crazy with her freedom. Allowing Charlie to let Madelaine have an unsupervised sleepover with Jacob, however... That was an uphill battle.