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Seventeen Again	By : ledybugb Category: Twilight Series > Het > Bella/Edward Views: 5371 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Seventeen Again
- 1
Thanks to baerwb (my husband) and Lyssie for being my betas for the first chapter. Without their help I probably would have never posted this.

This first chapter is pretty tame, more lemony goodness to come though. To get the full experience, play these songs while enjoying this chapter.
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Playlist in order of scene: First Taste – Fiona Apple (Tidal), Just For Now – Imogen Heap (Speak For Yourself), Talk to Me – Blue Foundation (Life Of A Ghost)

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Chapter 1 – Aural Stimulation

EPOV

Sitting alone in my room, tracing the lines of stucco on the ceiling with my eyes, I try my best to drown out the sounds that permeate the atmosphere around me. Perching on my black leather couch, hands clawing into the soft leather, I desperately want to push that volume button farther. Can’t it go any louder?! I have to rein myself in though, because I do not want to break another Ipod. Not that I have ever been in need or want of things, my birth parents saw to that.

The thumping, screaming, and panting just keep inundating my senses. I laugh, and think how ironic it is that I am like every other 17 year old boy, who doesn’t want to hear, let alone have knowledge of, my parents’ carnal acts. However, unlike most teenagers, I have the sounds coming from all sides. Three sets of animalistic lustful couples going at it, night and day. I doubt normal boys have to feel the house shake on its’ foundation and worry that the window glass might shatter any moment. Normal seventeen year olds also do not have to hear and see every nasty unnatural thought their family is having while consummating either. That is thanks to my ability to read minds. I sigh with exasperation. What a life I have in the Cullen house!

While plugging my Ipod in to download more music, I recall I am the odd man out, put in the place of ‘youngest’ by my siblings. We are a coven of vampires. My mind is reeling with unwelcome images: Carlisle and Esme, my ‘parents’, role-playing in costumes; Emmet and Rosalie, my brother and sister, reaching new heights with their volume and breaking furniture; Alice and Jasper, taking advantage of her limitless energy with repeat performances. If my mouth could fill with vomit, it would.

With Jasper’s power to control emotions, Alice and his fornicating cause everyone else in the house to be on full alert as well. This effect continues to get me in this situation, with the noise attacking from all around. Jasper has trouble controlling his power when he is otherwise occupied, sending waves of lust through the house. One time, I attempted to satisfy my own ‘needs’, so to speak. I tried using my imagination and visual aids. Nothing seems to stimulate me. So basically, my body is in a constant state of dissatisfaction. It doesn’t help that I was a virgin when I was changed. I still am. It is not like I haven’t gotten offers from the opposite sex, vampire and human alike, during my hundred some odd years. But none of them have ever been tempting enough.

I would love to be able to have someone to make those noises with. But I know it is never meant to be. I am destined to be alone. I have been this way for 107 years. I know it will never change. I don’t deserve it to. I am a monster, a fiend and the ultimate predator. Don’t get me wrong, I do not begrudge my family. Even though I might want to deny it, my dead heart aches for that kind of union.

When I was changed, I was a mere seventeen; I still had a beautiful future. I can feel the burn from the venom like it was yesterday. Unfortunately for me, I was turned at my sexual peak. It may have been 1918, but I was just as eager as young men are now. Though I was not as exposed to explicit sexual images, like today’s youth, I still have that primal instinct. Luckily, I only have to fight one monster now, the one that thirsts for human blood. I can at least control that.

As I lay here, trying to drown out the cacophony of disturbing noises, I find myself wishing for the morning. Why I do not know. The sun just brings another monotonous day of high school. Lord knows, I certainly will not be able to keep others’ illicit thought from entering my mind there, surrounded by teenagers. My own personal hell.

BPOV

Leaving my world of dry, beautiful browns behind, I have reluctantly decided to move to Forks, WA, the town where it rains 364 days a year. That’s where my real dad lives. My mom, Renee, recently got remarried. Phil is a good guy. He makes my mom the happiest I’ve seen her in years. But living with newlyweds has a lot of disadvantages. Besides the mushy cutesy talk you never want to hear coming out your parents’ mouths, there is the problem of being in hearing range…when they are in the bedroom...alone. It makes my skin crawl just thinking about it. Phil is a minor league baseball player hoping to get into the majors. In order to do that he has to go on tour. Mom obviously wants to be with him and I don’t want to be the one to make her unhappy. I had very few friends in Phoenix, no one I was really close too. I’ve always been kind of a loner, so it wasn’t very hard to leave. I do hate having to pick up everything and start over when the school year is almost over. I was so close to my beloved Phoenix summer, filled with sun and good books. Now I’m going to be stuck in this wet humid atmosphere surrounded by ominous green forests that look like they are about to attack me. The difference is like night and day.

After getting off the plane in Seattle, it really starts to sink in. This place is ugly and depressing. The sky is an awful shade of gray. It almost feels like you have one of those rain clouds bearing down on you, following you around, like the ones you see in cartoons. The breadth of the situation doesn’t hit me until after I grab my bags and I see that my dad picking me up in his police cruiser of all things. Could he be more embarrassing? Charlie is the Forks Chief of police. You’d think he could at least have driven something a little less threatening. We all know he doesn’t tow his fishing boat with that thing. That cinches it. I’m definitely walking to school tomorrow. I am not starting at new high school with that introduction.

The drive from SeaTac to freaking Forks takes about 3½ hours. Might as well be in another country. After remembering that Charlie and I are a lot alike, I decide not to try and make silly chit chat with him. I have absolutely no idea what to say to a man that thinks fishing is like being next to God. I happily pop the ear buds from my Ipod in and sink away into some Mozart, while watching the water droplets chase each other on the windshield. It’s beautiful how two little drops find each other and form one drop shining with tiny rainbows.

When we arrive, seeing the house again after four years brings back so many memories of summers here, good and bad. I used to visit for a few weeks every summer until I turned twelve. Renee then finally decided I was old enough to make my own decisions on where I wanted to spend my summers. I chose Phoenix, hands down. It’s not that I don’t like Charlie; I just liked the sun more. I often wonder if maybe that it was also a ploy to earn the coveted ‘Favorite Parent’ award that most divorced parent’s desire. My mom has also always needed her own babysitter. Renee is a free spirit, always acting like teenager instead of a mom. I fell into the role of mom. When she met Phil, the responsibility was ceremoniously lifted. Trust me when I say I was glad to hand over the reins. I shouldn’t have to deal with that responsibility anymore. I have enough shit to deal with. I really needed a change in scenery.

Upon seeing my room, I realize what an old softie Charlie really is. The room is still painted an ugly girly shade of pink, a throwback from my ballerina days. Of course, that was before we finally realized how clumsy I am. Who was I kidding? I still can barely walk in a straight line.

The tack board on the wall still has paintings and drawings attached to it, some that are over ten years old. Was I really that bad at drawing?

The twin bed is still here. Luckily, there is a desk in the corner for homework. Looks like Charlie also took the liberty of buying linens for me. Why didn’t he let me pick them out?

“You like purple, right Bells?” Charlie asked uncomfortably.

“Yeah purple is fine.” I decide to throw him a bone by adding a smile. They don’t look that bad.

Charlie replies, “The bathroom’s down the hall. I cleared some shelves off for you."

“I forgot there is only one bathroom. No chance we could add another one on?” I say jokingly.

Ignoring my dissatisfaction, he says, “Need anything else?”

“No thanks, Dad.” I reply wearily.

Charlie turns slowly then escapes my room. That is one good thing about him; he knows when to leave well enough alone.

The next morning I wake up to the sound of a car honking. Isn’t Forks was supposed to be less noisy than Phoenix?

An unnaturally gray light seeps in from the two windows in my room. I am grumpy, probably because I didn’t get my daily release last night. My mind wasn’t cognizant enough to conjure up any fantasies. Exasperated, I untangle my legs from the covers and make my way to the front-facing window.

Could Charlie be more mortifying? He is pretending to wrestle with some guy in wheelchair who looks vaguely familiar. Next to them is an old red truck that has a lot of character. A much younger version of the handicapped man waves at me from his perch on the truck’s hood. I smile and wave back.

Where do I know him from? God, is he going to want to be friends? Time to put the nice, friendly Bella face on. It’s really too early for this.

I thought I’d have at least until school to have to pull that one out of my bag of tricks.

Having taken a shower last night, I just have to dress and run a brush through my hair.

What the hell should I wear? I was going to pick out clothes last night but I was just too exhausted after the long trip. Why do we give a shit what they think? Come on, admit it, we do! I slip off my long spinster night gown, careful to avoid the line of sight of the windows, and throw the ugly thing on the floor. I’m not neat. Get used to it, Charlie.

I take a look at myself in the mirror and am reminded how plain I am. Standing at about 5’4”, I have long mousy brown hair that reaches the middle of my back. It has a little wave in it but a brush can never get it to behave completely. My body is thin but not too thin. While I wish I had bigger breasts, at least my skin is clear, although it’s pale enough to look like I belong in a coffin or something. I wore my plain white bra and panties to bed last night so at least I don’t have to hunt them down. Feeling adventurous the last time I went on one of my rare shopping trips, I got the ones with little bows on them. Girly is good sometimes.

Picking through my suitcase, which still isn’t unpacked and will probably remain that way for awhile, I settle on a long sleeve black shirt and my favorite pair of jeans. Black definitely feels like the right color today.

Where are my socks? Digging furiously, finally finding a pair of cozy gray wool socks, I slip them on and then yank on my black boots, barely avoiding a fall. Still not a ballerina, Bella!

I cautiously run to the bathroom, brush my teeth, put on deodorant, and run a brush through my hair a few times. I never bother with makeup. That crap makes your skin worse.

Satisfied that I look passable; I grab my favorite book, shove it into my bag, and start to navigate the stairs.

Walking through the front door, the beautifully classic truck fills my vision and I’m immediately in love with it. I marvel in the way something so strong and tough could have soft, almost feminine curves at the same time. Finding a guy with those qualities would be a dream come true. I even love how the truck has a faded strawberry color with spots of rust scattered throughout. I awoke from my obsession with the truck by someone clearing their throat.

“Bella?” says a soft husky voice.

I turn and see a boy about my age, staring at me. Ugh, I want to go back to my truck fantasy, not play nice.

“Oh, hi.” Looking down, I blush a little. I must look like a complete idiot.

Thankfully, my dad steps in and rescues me from my embarrassment. I hate how I blush so easily.

“Bells, this is Billy Black.” He motions towards the cocky older man in the wheelchair. Billy rolls closer to me.

I smile. “I remember Billy, Dad.”

“So how are you?” I reply. I hope that the boy beside me didn’t catch on that I also meant I can’t remember him. I’m not that heartless.

“Still dancing!” Billy says, chuckling to himself. It’s amazing how someone with such a disability can be so happy.

“I’m glad you’re finally here. Charlie was driving us crazy talking about you all time.” He smirks then Charlie punches him playfully. Great, Charlie has probably been revealing stories about me I’d rather stay hidden.

Suddenly, my dad and Billy regress 30 years and start play fighting in the street, leaving me standing there next to the boy I couldn’t remember. Thanks, Dad.

“So…” The boy glances at me nervously. It’s hard not to notice a look in his eyes that reminds me of a subject looking up at his beautiful queen in her throne. Down, boy! You don’t even know me.

“I’m Jacob. We used to play together all the time when we were little.” With that statement, the memories came flooding back to me. Throwing mud, holding hands while running in an unexpected rain, and to make it everything even more unnerving, the image of us skinny dipping in the ocean when we were six. Can this get any worse?

“I remember you.” My traitorous blush reappears. Do they have drugs to stop that? Because I’d buy a case full.

I have to change the subject, to rid my mind of that ocean swim and keep myself from dwelling on the thought of him naked. Jacob certainly isn’t unattractive. He has shoulder length ebony hair that he tucks behind his ears. It sets off his skin, which is a beautiful dark caramel color. His strong manly nose, a facial feature which has always been a weakness of mine, shows off his Native American heritage nicely. He still has some baby fat in his cheeks and is only a couple inches taller than me. While I usually prefer taller guys, I might make an exception for him. Who am I kidding? I am definitely too chicken shit to actually act on anything.

“Are they always like this?” I say, laughing nervously, feeling like I should run inside screaming before someone associates me with the crazy old geezers playing in the street.

“Yeah, pretty much. I think it comes with old age.” We both giggle. Hmm, Jacob’s pretty funny.

Apparently eavesdropping, Charlie smacks the back fender of the truck and says, “So what do you think?”

“About what?” I ask quizzically. Charlie can be so vague sometimes.

“Your welcome home present,” Charlie replies with a huge goofy grin on his face.

“This?!” I reply with my eyes as large as saucers, staring at the awesome truck in front of me. Holy shit!

“I bought it from Billy. I thought you’d prefer driving it to school.” Charlie then winks at me. You got that right!

Overjoyed, I reply, “Oh MY God! I can’t believe this!”
Jacob proudly states, “I restored the whole engine for you.”

Quickly opening the door to the truck, I simultaneously smack him in the groin with it. Too excited to stop to say sorry, I climb into the bench seat. I hope he can still have cute babies. What? Why I am I thinking about Jacob’s babies? Jacob hobbles around the truck and climbs in the other side, sitting down next to me, incredibly close. Normally I would have blushed but I am too busy reveling in my awesome new truck. Maybe living here won’t be so bad after all.

Jake continues to add in a high pitch squeak, “You shouldn’t have too much trouble with it. Might have to double pump the clutch though.”

With a nod in his direction, I start the truck and become giddy upon hearing the lovely rumbling coming from the hood. A sound only a classic truck could make. I glance over to Jacob and see his eyes filled with pride. He must be really sweet to take so much time to help someone he doesn’t even know. Either that or he has a huge crush on me. Probably the latter.

“Thank you so much for this. Do you need a ride to school?” One ally would be nice.

“No, that’s ok; I go to school on the reservation,” He replies with sad look in his eyes. Shit, have to face the troops alone.

“That sucks. I was hoping I would at least know someone there.” I reply, sighing.

Jacob gets out, walks around the truck and hands me my bag through the window. “See you later,” I say to him, smiling. I’ve got to appear somewhat grateful. Waving to all three of them in the rearview mirror, I hesitantly make my way to my dreaded first day at Forks High. What the hell am I getting myself into?
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Seventeen Again