Sunset

Living in Forks is equivalent to inhabiting a world of perpetual gloom and misery.

I was choosing to stay there on purpose.

My mother drove me to the airport in Phoenix on a Sunday morning. It was beautiful out, the weather was perfect. The sky was blue, air was warm, and the sun was baking the ground like it always did in Arizona.

I got out of the car wearing flip flops, shorts, and a t-shirt. Sighing, I looked at the cloudless sky and bid it farewell. It would be the last time, at least for the next few years, that I would ever get to appreciate non-inclement weather. Forks is a dreary place, reflected not only by its climate but also by the people who live there.

I would hate it.

“Harry,” my mother, Lily, said to me, “You don’t have to go, you know. There are always other options.”

I looked over the top of the car towards my redheaded mother, who was smiling sadly at me. I was her only child; my parents had gotten divorced when I was young and I moved with my mother to Phoenix after she left my father in Washington. Now that she had a new boyfriend who traveled with his work, it would be impossible for me to finish high school unless I lived with someone else.

I grabbed my light luggage and walked around the car, and gave her a big hug. “Mom,” I said, “It’ll be fun, I’ll finally get to have some father-son bonding time with dad. Don’t worry about me.”

I pulled away from the hug and saw my mother’s eyes tearing up. “You’re growing up so fast,” she said. “Seventeen already… and look, you’re getting taller than me!” She pulled me into another tight hug and said quietly, “Say hi to James for me.”

“I will, mom…. I’ll be fine, I promise. I love you.”

“Love you too, Harry. Oh, look at the time! You’re going to be late for your plane, go! And call me when you get to James’s house!”

I smiled, or at least tried to, and walked towards the airport entrance.

The flight would never be long enough.

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Five hours and a car ride later, I was finally at the house. It was exactly as I remembered it. James pulled the police cruiser into the driveway, and I hopped out with my bags.

I took approximately two steps before my father cleared his throat and said, “Harry? Uh, could you wait up for a minute?”

I turned around on the noisy gravel, seeing as my peripheral vision was nonexistent. I’d thrown on a hooded sweatshirt before getting off of my flight earlier. Right now the sky was only drizzling, but my aversion to dampness made having my hood up a necessity.

“Yeah?” I asked. James wasn’t usually very conversational, so what he had to say was probably at least somewhat important. His quietness was one thing that I actually appreciated; it’s nice not to have to talk all the time.

He gestured towards a large vehicle to my right, and said, “I bought this from Mr. Weasley the other day. I figured you’d need a car, and he was selling his for pretty cheap so… I got it for you as a homecoming gift.”

“Really?” I said, surprised. I looked at it more closely now. It was an old red truck, with a bulbous hood and big, rounded fenders. It looked like one of those cars that could get in an accident and not have a single scratch, while the other car is turned into a crumbled heap of scrap metal.

“Does it work?” I asked.

“Sure it does,” James said. “Arthur likes to fix things. He did a lot of work on the engine. You can start it now, if you want.”

I shook my head and said with a grin, “Thanks, but it’s getting kind of cold. I still have shorts on. I really appreciate it, though, Dad.”

James looked away and said gruffly, “Glad you like it.”

I turned back around and headed for the door. I hoped he took my smile as a sincere one, because it was. Even if calling him “Dad” seemed foreign to my mouth.

After climbing up the stairs and setting all of my bags down, I flopped onto the bed and just stared at the ceiling. I dreaded the following day more than I had dreaded anything else before in my life. Tomorrow would be a Monday. A school day. And school was now Forks High School.

I could barely contain my excitement. And in case you didn’t catch it, that was sarcasm.

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“Sleeping in Forks is impossible,” I groused as I rolled out of bed. The pouring rain made falling and actually staying asleep a challenge. Not to mention the roaring wind.

Being sleep deprived was definitely going to make school even worse than previously anticipated. I hastily threw on some clothes while peering outside into the foggy backyard, hoping that my long-sleeved shirt would be warm enough. After unsuccessfully attempting to brush my hair, which was essentially just a million conflicting cowlicks, I went downstairs to pour some cereal in James’s small kitchen.

James wished me a good day as he walked outside. I just moved my arm in a waving motion while drinking the rest of the milk from the bowl.

Hoping I wouldn’t be too early to school, I grabbed a jacket, my bag, and the keys to my new truck before heading out into the miserable outside world.

The big read beast roared when I turned the engine on. A nice touch. I hoped that it wouldn’t stick out too much in the parking lot.

Five minutes later, as I pulled in, I was relieved to see that it didn’t. Most kids were driving hand-me-down cars, although theirs probably didn’t quite make as much noise as mine did. I parked in a spot by the building I presumed to be the office, pulled up my hood, and jogged inside to get my schedule.

The school was definitely different than the one I attended back home. It was smaller; the entire student body was less than 400 people. My junior class alone used to have 700 in Phoenix.

Shivering and wishing I had put on something warmer, the office assistant hung up the phone and looked up to see who I was.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “You must be James Potter’s son. You are his spitting image, you know, except for your eyes.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, having already heard similar comments from most relatives and family friends since I was a baby. Instead, I just plastered a fake smile on my face and said, “Yes, I’m Harry. Do you have a schedule for me? It’s my first day.”

“Of course!” the woman said, “It should be right here…”

After shuffling through some stacks of papers, she handed me a sheet of paper with all of my classes and their room numbers printed on it.

I scanned through the list and found my first period class: Literature, with Mrs. McGonagall in room three.

I left the office and looked around for building numbers in the drizzling rain. I saw a big black “3” on one of the classrooms, and walked quickly over to it.

There were only a few students in the class, between ten and thirteen, maybe. They were seated and talking to one another, so I pushed my hood back and walked up to a stern looking woman sitting at a teacher’s desk. I handed her a slip of paper that the woman from the office had given me.

The stern woman nodded at me and said, “Welcome to the class, Mr. Potter. Please sit behind Ms. Granger…” she moved to look around me and pointed a desk.

I nodded agreeably and walked over to it, shrugged off my bag and sat. The lecture was boring, but I attempted to look interested to avoid getting into any trouble. I had learned the book we were reading in Phoenix already, but I figured that was a good thing – I could recycle my essays.

After the bell rang and everyone got up to put on their raincoats, the girl sitting in front of me turned around and held out her hand.

“Hello,” she said, “I’m Hermione Granger. Welcome to Forks! Can I help you get to your next class?”

I looked at her strangely, but shook her hand to be polite, and replied, “Erm… hi. I’m Harry. I think I have Calculus next.”

“Oh good! I have that too, it’s with Mr. Flitwick. Follow me.”

Confused at her friendliness, I followed her to the next building and listened to her talking as we went in. Apparently she had lived in Forks since she was born and was in most of my classes. She was friendly, but not overbearingly so. Maybe I wouldn’t be as invisible here as I was in Phoenix.

I wasn’t sure what I thought about that, yet.

The next few classes went by in a blur. Calculus was covering material that I had went over a week before, so at least I wouldn’t have catching up to do. Spanish was average. Several people chatted with me between classes. I met a boy named Neville, apparently one of Hermione’s friends, and also ran into Ron Weasely. We talked for a few minutes, he remembered me from when I lived in Forks as a kid. We were childhood friends. After catching up and joking around, my mood was significantly lighter compared to the mood I woke up with. I had missed Ron.

The two of us were still talking as we walked to the cafeteria for lunch. He made room for me at their usual table – Ron, Hermione, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Ron’s sister Ginny, and her friend Luna Lovegood were all there. They absorbed me into their group as easily as if I’d been there since the beginning of freshman year. I felt genuinely welcomed as they asked me questions about Arizona and I shyly answered them.

Some questions were silly, things like “Are there palm trees in Arizona?” and “How often does it rain?” and there were odd comments like “You’re really tan!” and mundane things like “Do you like it here?” I answered everything as honestly as I could. And to my surprise, I liked being in Forks more than I thought I would. It wasn’t bad at all.

Questions had finally died down some and I had gotten a chance to start eating my sandwich when Luna, who had been staring, blurted out a question.

“What gave you that scar on your forehead?”

I slowly chewed and then swallowed, thinking how to best answer the seemingly simple inquiry. I went with as little detail as possible, and replied, “I just got into a car accident when I was little.”

The car accident happened when I was six. My parents were driving me home from daycare in a really bad storm; it was pouring. I remember looking out the window and only seeing a blur of trees when the car hydroplaned over the flooded road and we fishtailed into the guard rail on the side of the road. My head hit the side of the door and I was bleeding all over the place. My dad got a broken arm and my mother only had bruises. But it was the final straw on the camel’s back… my mother hated Forks already. To her, the accident was the world telling her to get the fuck away from Washington. So she did… and she took me with her.

Shaking my head to rid myself of the gloomy memory, I finished my lunch just before the bell rang signaling the end of the period. Next was Chemistry with Mr. Snape. Ron had the class with me, and if his opinion was anything to go by I probably wouldn’t be a fan… Snape assigned the most work out of any of the teachers.

With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I pulled my hood up to stay dry from the rain that was starting to fall harder.

Don’t worry, I told myself. The rest of the day should be a breeze if it’s anything compared to this morning…