An Anachronistic Fairytale
Anachronism: something or someone that is not in its correct historical or chronological time, esp. a thing or person that belongs to an earlier time
"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife…" (From, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.)
Chapter One: First Impressions
The lack of actual book learning that goes on in high school is amazing. High school really is just an excuse for teenagers to whisper to each other behind worn and tattered copies of what other people have deemed "the classics" and for them to see firsthand the specimens of the opposite sex. It's on a whole different level than middle school, and can't even seem to be in the same universe as elementary school.
The real learning experience of high school comes in the form of: coupling.
Coupling 101.
The only class most teenagers see fit to spend their time studying. Thrown to the side are their Algebra and English textbooks as soon as the phone begins to ring or the computer begins to ding. While the grades suffer, they are inevitably passing the only "class" they give any thought to at all.
Woe is the handful of young adults that actually could really care less for who they were going to prom with, or who gave who what for Valentine's Day, or what they were going to get them.
Take, for instance, Isabella Swan. Bella.
She was the new girl, so naturally she was something to be talked about. But, sooner than ever before, she was left alone. She rejected all dates, all dances, and all social activities. And, even worse, she actually listened and participated during class. So, before she had even become aware of it, she was written off as "one of those kids". You know, one of those kids who actually care what college they get into, if any at all. She was one of those girls who would rather spend her money on books than on clothes. She, all in all, was just one of those kids. She, in the eyes of her classmates, had nothing left to offer.
Second only to the lack of actual book learning is the abundance of labels in high school. It would be easier to have the students form a line at the beginning of the school year and stick a sticky note on each of their foreheads, branding them forever as a: nerd, jock, prep, diva, goth, loner, geek, fag, lesbian, haughty, snob….. the list goes on and on.
To use as an example, look at Edward Cullen. Edward.
Before Bella, he was the new kid. As soon as he set one foot through the door, he had a label: stuck up little rich kid. They didn't even give him a chance. He was the doctor's son, drove a brand-spanking-new Volvo, and dressed like he worked in a lawyer's office. Only one thing he possessed had the power to save him in the other kid's eyes: he was absolutely gorgeous. He had cheekbones like none other, had reddish-bronze hair that fell into his eyes in just the right way, and was just tall enough to look just so with over half the female student body, and his eyes! They were churning pools of liquid emeralds one day, and just a few days later, they had frozen into blocks of glittering green rock.
But, as it turned out, even all his beauty couldn't save his apparent personality, or non-personality. He kept to himself, which in itself was a punishable offense to the High School Elite. He spoke when someone asked him a direct question, and even then, gave short (although polite) answers that still managed to sound clipped. The girls soon stopped swooning, and the boys stopped threatening to wipe that "smug" look off of his face. He was all but forgotten.
He could walk up and down the halls and never catch a passing glance. Long gone were the days where he was followed by stifled whisperings and stunted giggles. For all anybody else cared, he could have skated up and down the rows of lockers wearing nothing but a Superman cape, and they STILL wouldn't have noticed him. That seemed to suit him just fine.
So, day after day, he walked to class. Then he sat down. Then he paid attention. Then he received good grades. Then he sat by himself at lunch. Then he walked again to class. Then he paid more attention. Then he went home. Then it started all over again.
Until one day, someone did give him a look. And it stopped him right in his repetitive tracks.