57FAGE… The 13th
Title: Birdy
Written for: KitsuShel
Written By: LizziePaige
Rating: M
Genre: Friendship/Family/Romance
Summary/Prompt used: Friends to Lovers
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I own very little.
If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this exchange visit the Facebook group: Fanficaholics Anon: Where Obsession Never Sleeps, or add the C2 to get all the stories direct to your inbox. You will find all FAGE entries for this year and the previous ones at FAGE… The 13th community page. community/FAGE-The-13th/130805
A big thank you to ghostreader24 and Honeymoon Edward for pre-reading, and to Alice's White Rabbit for betaing this story. Without them this would all just be gibberish. All mistakes are my own.
Song Inspiration: Wings by Birdy
Sunlight comes creeping in
Illuminates our skin
We watch the day go by
Stories of all we did
It made me think of you
It made me think of you
Under a trillion stars
We danced on top of cars
Took pictures of the stage
So far from where we are
They made me think of you
They made me think of you
Oh, lights go down
In the moment we're lost and found
And I just wanna be by your side
If these wings could fly
For the rest of our lives
Chapter 1:
BPOV
I sit cross-legged on the polished floor of my old bedroom in our family home, a wooden box open before me, surrounded by memories. My fingers run lightly along the vane of a treasured white feather as I stare out the window, and I'm taken back to the first time I held it in my hand.
I was four, almost five years old, which seemed so much older than just being four, when I first met Edward Cullen.
My parents had separated the year before, my mother Renee bundling me and everything else she could manage into her car and taking off from Forks, Washington as fast as she could, vowing to never set foot in the dull, dreary place again.
Their ending was the start of me spending a month of each summer with my father, Charlie.
That first summer of our "daddy and daughter" time, as we called it, we headed to Holden Beach, a place I later discovered had happy childhood memories for Charlie. He had holidayed there himself with his own parents and grandparents many, many moons ago, he told me. He thought it was as good a place as any to create some lasting memories for me, and he was right. His own mother, Grandma Marie, joined us those first few years.
We'd only been there a day or two when another family arrived at the beach house next to us. I was sitting out on our front porch, just looking out at the water, when I first heard them. I wondered if they lived at the zoo because my dad told me it sounded like a family of elephants had moved next door.
I remember the warmth of the sun on my skin, the bright blue sky, the sound of the waves gently breaking on the shore, and the seagulls dancing along in the shallows as we sat on the beach the next afternoon.
We were decorating my sandcastle with shells and colored glass I'd been collecting when the family traipsed down to the beach.
Two big boys ran right past us, sending the seagulls screeching and flying high into the air. The first one was bigger, and he had dark curly hair. The next one was smaller, and he had funny-colored hair, which was sticking up all over the place, it seemed.
They were laughing and yelling about being the first one into the water, sand spraying up behind them, towels and T-shirts cast aside as they raced for the water. Their mother came next, yelling at them to slow down and wait for her, and lastly came their father, carrying a little girl dressed in a bright red polka dot bathing suit with yellow floaties on her arms. A smile tugs at my lips as I remember the day so clearly, turning to my dad and laughing at our new neighbors.
~oo000oo~
"They're very noisy, but they haven't got trunks and don't look like elephants to me, Daddy!"
Their daddy yelled out, "Sorry about that lot," as he passed us.
Daddy told him, "All good; no blood, no foul." I didn't know what that meant, but no blood was always good. I didn't like blood.
My daddy and I, we built the biggest and best sandcastle that day. Just like a real castle, with moats and turrets and everything.
I watched the other family as we scooped wet sand and added more rooms to our castle. The boys were running in and out of the water, jumping over the waves, laughing and yelling all the time. The little girl was mostly sitting with the daddy and just clapping her hands a lot.
Just as we were packing up and getting ready to go back up to our beach house, the two boys came over to where we were sitting. They were still wet from swimming and covered in sand.
"Hey, that's a great looking sandcastle. You done a good job!" the oldest boy said. The smaller boy didn't talk, he just nodded and smiled at me.
I giggled at them and Daddy nudged my knee with his. "Thank you," I shyly answered.
"What's your name," the biggest boy asked.
"Emmett, you're not being a nuisance, are you?" the mommy questioned as she came over quickly to stand behind the boys, one hand on a shoulder of each boy.
I looked up at her. Their mommy was so pretty, with light curly hair to her shoulders and bright green smiley eyes.
"Nah, Ma."
"I think the kids were just about to introduce themselves," my daddy told her.
"Off you go then, Emmett. You can do the introductions," the mommy encouraged.
"I'm Emmett. I'm six, and I'm the biggest and oldest, and this is Edward"—he points to the other boy—"he's five, and he's not the youngest anymore because we have Mary Alice now, she's our new sister, and she's almost four, but she's only little," he tells us, all in one breath, it seems.
"And I'm Esme, Esme Cullen, and over there is my husband Carlisle," the mommy tells us, pointing toward their daddy. The mommy then leans over to shake hands with my daddy.
Daddy stands, brushing the sand off himself, and shakes the hand of the pretty lady.
"This is my daughter, Isabella, and I'm Charlie. Charlie Swan."
"But I'm just Bella," I tell the mommy. "And Grandma Marie is here too." I suddenly find my own voice, pointing up toward our house.
"Swan like the birds?" the younger boy, Edward, pipes up, rather excitedly.
"Yes, that's right." My daddy laughs.
"I like birds. They have feathers," he tells us.
"How many is you?" Emmett asks me.
I hold up four fingers. "This many, but I'll be five soon, and that means I'll be a big girl."
It's then we hear Grandma Marie call from the top of the dune closest to our house. "Snacks are ready!"
"You have snacks? We love snacks, don't we, Eddy?"
"Emmett! That's not polite," their mommy warns.
"Don't call me Eddy!" Edward growls, a big frown on his face.
"Well, how about you all come on up when you're ready and have some afternoon snacks with us.
There's always plenty," my daddy says.
"But I'm hungry now," says Emmett, patting his tummy.
"You're a growing boy and always hungry," says their daddy as he joins us at the sandcastle.
The grownups talk for a moment, and then their mommy tells the boys it's okay to go and have afternoon snacks, but they must be sure they remember their manners.
We all have to brush the sand off as best we can and put our shoes back on so the sand doesn't burn our feet on the way back to the house—and then we're off!
"Woohoo, snacks! We're coming Grandma Marie!" Emmett yells in a big loud voice and takes off running. I giggle, and my daddy and their mommy and daddy laugh too.
Edward, Mary Alice, and I are walking up to the house together when Edward points out a large white feather fluttering along just in front of us. I race along and catch it, just as it falls to the sand.
"Got it!" I call out, proudly, waving it around above my head triumphantly.
Mary Alice claps and cheers for me. "You like a birdy!" she laughs pointing at me.
~oo000oo~
That first summer together started a ritual which carried on for many years for the Cullens and Swans. Our families would spend at least two weeks of every summer together. Over time, we no longer had separate houses or cabins but usually one large enough to house us all.
Sometimes, we went to the beach, sometimes camping. We even went to Disney World one year, but Emmett got lost for nearly a whole day, and Esme said she didn't want that distress ever again.
We spent our days having fun, getting into all kinds of mischief together, usually led by an enthusiastic Emmett, who could find trouble without even looking for it. At night, we were rounded up after dinner for showers or baths. We'd then trundle tiredly into bunk beds, or blanket-made forts, or sleeping bags by firesides and whisper and tell stories well into the night until we all finally fell asleep exhausted, waking early and doing it all again the next day.
We were lucky we had our own doctor on hand. Carlisle always had his trusty medical bag close by. Some summers, it was just sunburn, scrapes, and bruises, but we also had a few sprains and stitches over the time too. Esme often commented that if we all got home by the end of the summer with no broken bones, then that was a bonus.
As I grew older, I learned that all three of the Cullen children were adopted, and although Emmett was the eldest, it was Edward who came to Esme and Carlisle first, as a two-year-old.
It was only six months after this a three-year-old Emmett joined them. Esme said he was a happy little guy right from the start and helped to bring an incredibly quiet, shy, Edward out of his shell.
Little Mary Alice was the last to join the family, only a few months before I had met them that first summer. Her big brothers adored her right from day one. When Esme told their story, she said it was as if the boys gained two sisters that year, and I still remember how proud and happy that made me feel.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end—often without warning.
When I was sixteen, two things happened that changed the direction of my life. My mother, Renee, remarried, and I spent the summer moving to Jacksonville, Florida with her and her new husband, Phil. And, my Grandma Marie passed.
The first, I was ambivalent about. Renee and I had moved many times before, so starting over wasn't new for me. The second broke my heart. The loss of my grandma felt like a piece of myself was missing.
Although I got along well with Phil, they were newlyweds, and over time, I felt like the third wheel more and more. I wasn't settling well in Jacksonville, and I was grieving.
After some debate between parents, it was decided I would go and live with my dad and finish my high school years in Forks. Well, I decided. Renee took some convincing, as she still had bad memories of the small town she'd run from, but I was determined, and Dad was excited. He was grieving for his mother also, and I knew that together, we could support one another through this time far better than each on our own.
So, it was mid-January, as a miserable seventeen-year-old, that I finally moved back to Forks and, with some trepidation, started mid-year as a junior at Forks High School.
Despite the move across the country and starting another new school, my misery was short-lived because I was about to have the best summer of my life. It would be filled with old friends, non-stop laughter, and some of the sweetest kisses I've ever shared.