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I Was A Little Too Curious

What happens when Charlie's other daughter (Bella's half-sister)moves to Forks? CHAPTER ONE HAS BEEN EDITED!!!! I've eliminated a few things here and there and changed Schroeder's name to Toby after finding out that I can no longer stand it! NEWSFLASH: THIS USED TO BE CALLED "KILL THE PAIN"

As sad as this may seem I don't own any of the Twilight characters. However I do own Chelley and her family and friends. So... I've had around 105 reads and only nine reviews! You guys can do much better than that!!!

1. The Real One

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1928   Review this Chapter

Chapter One

The Real One

All my life I had known that Chris (step-dad) really wasn't my dad, and neither was Chance, but it didn't really register in my mind that I had another one. Fiona (my mother) finally told me when I was thirteen but I didn't care to visit him. That is, until now. That's when I remembered why I was on a plane.

Fiona had said that she and Charlie had made a bad mistake. She said that after she and Chance had got divorced she was lonely. So she married Charlie. He too had just gotten divorced. Shortly after the wedding she became pregnant with my older brother Toby and then a year later I was born. They got divorced after that.

So here I was, sixteen, about to finally meet my biological father. What would he be like? Short? Tall? Skinny or over-weight? If he was over-weight I would most definitely get him back on track. I was nervous (like I might toss my breakfast) and excited (like I might toss my lunch). Fiona had said he was the Chief Police of Forks, Washington. I immediately pictured a slightly balding man holding a donut.

I was unaccompanied and on a plane about to meet my real father. I screamed inside my head.

Fiona hadn't been able to come with me and I was unsuccessful at convincing Toby

at joining me. He had said he would come out to Washington in December.

Charlie had another daughter Fiona had told me. Her name was Isabella. Isabella was a pretty name although I think everyone should have a cool nickname. I thought of a few while drinking the soda the flight attendant had handed me. Izzy, (very rad) Bells, Isa, Iz.

Forks, Washington was a very small town. I was glad. I hated big cities. I would start the school year off a few days late at Forks High School. My drifted different ways from clothes to boys to friends I would miss. After an hour or so the captain told us we would begin our descent. The excited/nervous feeling came back as I shoved my laptop into its case.

The plane landed without difficulty. A tall man sitting across the aisle helped me get my carry on down from those hard-to-close-things (I also found that they are hard to open). I can't help it if I'm only 5'3". I noticed it was raining outside so before exiting the plane I pulled out the umbrella Fiona had given me. It really was a nice umbrella, I almost felt bad exposing it to the rain. It was a bright lime green covered in yellow bananas. Very Fiona, very me. I felt no embarrassment getting of the plane. People stared, but I was used to it.

I searched the luggage carosoul for my bags. They were easily found seeing as they were covered in bumper stickers I had picked up in my travels throughout the states. I was really hoping Charlie would make himself known so I didn't have to find a way to carry all five bags. It was crowded inside the Seattle airport and I worried about being pick pocketed. Not that I had to worry seeing as Charlie (my eldest brother) had lent me many locks to put on my baggage. I stood by a window in a corner and called Fiona on my cell phone.

"Rochelle!" she squealed when she answered. "Are you okay? What took you so long to call?"

"Calm down mom." I replied laughing at her worries. "I'm fine; I just got off the plane."

"Is Charlie there? Don't tell me he forgot!" she nearly yelled, and then, under her breath "I'll kill him."

"No mom, I just think we may have some trouble finding each other."

"Hold on hon, I have a customer." Fiona is a florist with a reputation. She leaves no customer alive in her tiny shop. She arms them with pamphlets and samples of flowers and more than enough information.

I wait calmly and then see a man in police uniform begin to approach me.

"Hey mom, I think I see him."

"Okay honey, love you, bye." She says, clearly preoccupied with her customer.

The man who might be Charlie approaches me and I hang up.

"Rochelle?" He asks nervously. Oh, good I'm not the only one.

"Yes." I say holding my hand out to him. I have been known to be formal at times. He takes it.

"I'm Charlie Swan." So that was my real surname. Swan; the graceful bird. I debated whether to take it on as my own or not. He babbled nervously and I smiled and nodded my head.

He helped me with my bags and we walked out of the airport. I noted on his car, The Cruiser. It sounded official. We drove in silence until I couldn't take it anymore. I asked him questions about his job mostly. What's the weirdest thing you've seen as a police man? Then I tried to get him to laugh.

"If you could own any of these three things, which would it be? A hockey player, a pine apple with super powers or a stop sign that could talk?" He burst out laughing. Success. He didn't answer, but then again most people don't.

He pulled The Cruiser (as I have officially dubbed it) into a quaint little house. The porch was small with a wrought iron bench sitting beneath the hangover. There was a shabby Welcome mat on the doorstep and the garage was cluttered with things that needn't be there.

"Why don't you go take a look around inside and I'll get your bags." I nodded and took my purse into the house with me. Through the front door there was a small foyer with a bench. The walls were dull beige (then again, what beige isn't dull?). I imagined light yellow walls instead. Much better. To the left there was a half-wall leading into what I suspected to be the main living area. It held a television, (as most living areas do) couch, armchair and coffee table. To the right of the foyer there was a half opened door leading to an office. At the end of the foyer was a kitchen and dinette. I stepped into the kitchen, its cupboards covered in a cheerful yellow, although not painted well they added sunshine. There was a peninsula ejecting from the kitchen counter. On the other side of the peninsula was a table and six chairs, although old and ragged they looked elegant with their high backs and arm rests. At the end of the dining room was a staircase and a door. The door lead to a bedroom, most likely Charlie's by looks of it. Upstairs was a bedroom and bathroom. One bathroom. Yuck! I had to admit though, sharing with one man and a half-sister was better than sharingit with my six brothers.

Yes, I have six brothers back in Michigan. Charlie, (a junior in college) Reuben, (a sophomore in college) Sam, (a freshman in college) Tom and Ryan, (seniors in high school and twins) Toby, (junior). It would be nice to have a sister.

Charlie managed to make it in the house with all five suitcases (all of them very large).

"Sorry about you having to share a room with Bella." He said.

"That's fine; I've always wanted a sister." I made note to ask him about an attic. It would be marvelous to live in one.

"She should be here soon; she's just getting back from seeing Renee, her mother." He said with a kind of pain in his eyes. I felt bad for him. Not just one, but two women leave him in a small town. "I hate to leave you alone but I have to get back to the station; most of the officers are on vacation."

"That's okay; it'll give me time to unpack." I say brightly, "You wouldn't happen to have an attic, would you?" I ask.

"Uh…yeah." He says. "Why?"

"Well I could put a bed up there and a desk and Isabella could keep her room." I didn't like the name Bella.

"You'd have to sift through a lot of junk to clear a space."

"I don't mind, it'll give me something to do."

"I suppose you could." I felt bad for attacking him with one of schemes but it couldn't be helped.

"Thank you!" I say and I hug him. He seems surprised. He leaves and I get to work.

I find the door to the attic and I am very pleased that there is a staircase. All though narrow it is much better than a ladder. I step into the attic. It's covered in an inch of dust and piled high with treasures. I see trunks, old albums and record player. It's magnificent. I pull out my iHome from a suitcase and crank up the tunes.

I found a lot of things to put to use. A wrought iron bed with a beautiful headboard, two bookshelves and door (?) that I transformed into a desk. It took the rest of the day to push all the treasures (I refuse to call them junk)to one side of the attic (the side with no windows to be exact). I set up the bed in a corner overlooking a window which gave me a view of a wood. Forks was more like home than I had expected.

I heard Charlie come in the house. I heard a feminine laugh (I suspected it to be Isabella). I looked around to see how I could hear the noise. Ah-Ha! The culprits were a missing floorboard above Isabella's closet and a heat register.

"Hey Bells, why don't you go say hi to Rochelle? She's in the attic." I hear Charlie say.

"Sure thing." I hear her climb the stairs and enter her room.

"I don't know Edward. What if she doesn't like me?" Her voice was louder seeing as she was closer.

"And why wouldn't she?" a deep voice answered Isabella. I suspected this to be Edward although one can never tell.

"I don't know…" Isabella said uncertainly. She seemed shy, yet intimidating. I heard them start kissing and tried to block them out.

"See? There's no reason not to say hi. The two of you are going to be in the same house for a year or so Alice says. You might as well get used to her." The mysterious Edward's voice was enthralling; his voice had a slight Midwestern twang to it. It was much like mine, except my Michiganian accent was thicker and more pronounced. Who was this Alice and how does she know me? I wondered absent mindedly. I remembered I was eavesdropping and continued to clean although I could still here them.

"Can you tell what she's thinking?" Isabella asked. I wondered what that was supposed to mean. I wondered if she would ever say hi.

"She's wondering if you're going to say hi or not." Edward replied. "She really wants to meet you." Edward knew what I was thinking. It was strange and unpleasant. But how did he know? I reminded myself that there was no such thing as mind readers. I heard them leave Isabella's room and trudge up the narrow stairs. The door opened with a creak and Isabella and the so called Edward stepped in.