Chapter Text
Mallory
Her arrival was punctuated by the sound of pouring rain. Not those soft, romantic raindrops. It was the drumming kind that almost hurt when it hit your skin, the kind that made you worry about your car windows cracking. Mallory cut the ignition and stayed in her vehicle, staring through the watery windshield at the house that stood before her.
Just 10 months, she told herself. 10 months until she could leave this place. By then, she’d be 18 and have her high school diploma; everything she needed to live on her own.
It was a smear of green outside, all those ancient trees and plants soaking up the water. Nature ate good here with all this rain. Mallory wasn’t ready to go inside, but she opened her car door just a crack, enough to let in the scent. Wet leaves and pine trees. She figured she might as well appreciate the good things about Forks whenever she could find them.
As the cool breeze filled the air, Mallory reminded herself what she’d practiced before coming here: letting emotions roll off her like rainwater. She knew the next year of her life would be challenging in a way she’d never known before. That much was outside of her control. But what she could control was the way she reacted to it. She would do her best to be okay despite it.
With a deep breath, Mallory steadied herself. It wasn’t a graceful exit from her car; she ran to the front door with her two suitcases thumping wildly at her sides. She was soaking wet by the time she made it to the doorstep. As she climbed the last step, she banged her wet fist on the door.
It opened almost instantly; he must’ve been watching her car idle in his driveway. Standing at the door, the man wore a face clouded with confusion.
“Hi Charlie,” Mallory said.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
Clearly, he had no idea who she was or why she was here—but by the dark expression creeping in on his face, it looked like it was dawning on him.
Like he’d always known this day would come.
“I’m your daughter,” Mallory replied. “And I’m here to live with you.”
As if they were playing some morbid game of pretend, her dad had set the table for dinner.
A family dinner with a total stranger. The man who’d pretended she didn’t exist all her life, desperate to mend things with his real family. Based on the empty house, Mallory figured that hadn’t gone so well for him.
“So,” she started. “You eat like this every night?”
She stabbed a fork in her overcooked steak, which leaked a sad stream of juice. Totally unseasoned and tough. She’d interrupted his dinner when she arrived, and now she wished she’d come later.
“Since Bells left,” he said.
Bella. Her half-sister. Mallory used to wonder what made his other daughter so special, worthy of being a presence in his life. What she lacked.
“Well, I grew up on McDonald’s and Pizza Hut, so I’ll be no help there.”
“That’s fine…Mallory.” He seemed to have trouble saying her name. “I’ll leave you an allowance to get food. Just focus on your schoolwork.”
AKA: Graduate and get out of my house. The message was crystal clear.
Mallory looked up at his face while she chewed the tough steak. He had kind eyes, chocolate brown, just like hers. She wanted to believe he could be a kind man. He was a police officer; didn’t that make him some kind of good?
But whatever warmth was in his heart, it shriveled up when she was around. It didn’t seem to matter what she did, because everything she represented eclipsed that.
When Mallory was born, he lost the love of his life. 17 years later, it seemed he’d never be able to see past that.
Mallory had waited until she very last day to drive here, which meant her first day of school was tomorrow. So she already had an excuse to leave the table as soon as she’d finished eating—something she’d thought of ahead of time.
She retreated to the room that was very clearly meant for the half-sister Mallory had never met. She knew very little about her father’s life. Her mother had only revealed little snippets when she was feeling sentimental. Mallory knew that Charlie had another daughter, and it was a thought that regularly filled her with equal parts curiosity and jealousy.
Now, she’d be sleeping in Bella’s old room. Charlie had mentioned that she’d left. She wondered where she’d ended up.
Like always, Mallory couldn’t sleep.
It was easy to slip out the back door unnoticed. Or maybe he noticed and just didn’t say anything. It’d be weird to treat her like a stranger for 17 years and then one day become an authoritative parent, she thought. Almost like he’d lost the right to be one after being gone so long.
Either way, sneaking out was easy.
Her dad’s house felt disconnected from the rest of Forks, right on the outskirts. Nestled in the forest, it wasn't far from the beach, where Forks ended and La Push began. Mallory had learned all this before she came here, eager to scope out places she could hide. She knew she’d go crazy being cooped up in that house all night. La Push beach seemed like the perfect alternative.
The cold sea breeze met her at the shoreline. Mallory hugged her arms around herself tightly, turning her face up to its salty spray. Water looked so different in the moonlight. Almost black, except for that big white orb in the middle. She was mesmerized by how the waves lapped over the moon's reflection. After a while—she didn’t know how long—she began to feel at peace.
A new smell floated down on the breeze. A cigarette. Not stale smoke either; this was fresh. Mallory turned her head in the direction of that tantalizing smell. A few feet away, another figure stood at the water, much like she was. Alone. But this girl wore barely anything, despite how cold it was. Long tan legs shot out from cutoff shorts, barely covering her hips. A black tank top with thin straps, showing lean but muscled arms, breasts that swelled under the thin fabric. A dark bob of hair covered her face, which was facing down at the water.
Maybe it was dumb to go up to a stranger in the middle of the night, with no one around. But Mallory was lonely.
She walked towards the girl, feeling strangely confident in spite of herself. There was something empowering about starting over, leaving all her baggage behind. No one here knew a thing about her—not yet—and so she could be anyone. She could be confident. She could be brave.
Mallory was close enough now that the girl could hear her approach, surely. Wading through the water wasn’t quiet. But the girl didn’t turn to look.
“Hey,” Mallory said.
Still staring straight ahead, the girl spoke.
“You should never go out alone at night here,” she said. “Ever. I don’t know where you came from, but things are different here.”
Mallory was taken aback; she’d never met someone so openly hostile towards her on first meeting. Except for Charlie, maybe. And she’d certainly never heard of a crime streak in a sleepy town like Forks.
“Well,” she started, trying to think of something to say. “Aren’t you doing the same thing?”
The girl smiled, but it was a private smile; she was enjoying a joke that Mallory wasn’t part of.
“I’m serious,” the girl said. “Go home.”
“I can’t get your name, at least?”
Silence.
“Leah.”
“I’m Mallory,” she said. “You’re the first person I've met in Forks, aside from my dad. Who I also met today.”
As soon as she said it, she regretted it. Did it sound like she wanted pity? If Leah thought so, she didn’t show it. She said nothing as she took another drag from her cigarette. Mallory inhaled the scent that washed over her.
Suddenly, Leah tossed it into the ocean, and started walking back to shore. Over her shoulder, Leah called back to her, “I’m serious. It’s not safe here. I don’t want to see you out here again. Next time, you might not be so lucky. I’m one of the nicer creatures that wanders here in the dark.”
Mallory watched as the girl waded to the shore and then disappeared into the forest.
After another few minutes, Mallory headed back to Charlie’s house. What that girl said had creeped her right out. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.