Chapter One: An Introduction to Baring Arms, or a Leg
Sarah's POV
A stern glance from behind a set of grimy glasses pertly sitting a top an equally grimy nose.
A disgruntled clearing of the throat and shuffling of unnecessary papers.
Now for the lecture…
"Miss Jennings for second time, are you listening to me? If that smirk gracing your face means that you think it is acceptable to be seated in my office for the…third time this semester, you need to head back to kindergarten," Mr Roberts was pro at heaving guilt upon whimpering students for even the smallest of crimes committed.
To bad I wasn't whimpering. Nor was I particularly concerned with his overzealous attitude towards self-defence.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't the second amendment give me the right to bear arms since 1791?
Okay, so it wasn't an arm, it was a leg, with solid footwear on the foot.
Clearly the self-righteous prick didn't feel the same way about girls standing up for themselves as I did. I am a woman of the twenty-first century, and as such, absolutely shall not tolerate any unwarranted touching of my body. Given freely, sure, but in response to rejection? Absolutely not. Not only were Tom Swanson's actions undesirable to a woman of my intellect, but they were also downright un-gentlemanly. If he couldn't accept my refusal to, as he put it, 'have a shag in the courtyard out back', he shouldn't have asked in the first place. Nor should he have reacted by manhandling me. Roberts had been trying to convince me for the last twenty-five minutes that my reaction was over the top. Suggestions to combat further experiences such as this ranged from not wearing such revealing clothing, to projecting a friendlier and less intimidating type of persona, to my favourite- taking anger management classes. Basically, any attempt I had made to defend myself was rejected and the issue of Swanson's sexual harassment had been a non-issue.
I still maintain that he deserved every cracked rib I gave him.
"JENNINGS!" Snapped out of my reverie, I swung my gaze lazily back to Mr Roberts, whose face was now nearing a spectacular shade of fuchsia, a questioning look in my eye.
"Have you not listened to a word I've said? That's it. I've had it with this nonchalant arrogance of yours. Go home. I'll be calling your mother to come and pick you and then you can explain to her why you'll be thinking over your thoughtless actions at home for the next three days. You're suspended."
Not even bothering with a vicious glare, I huffed and grabbing my bag from the nasty green carpet of his office, gave Roberts the finger as I stomped towards the door. Gasps of fury followed in my wake, as did a few choice words entirely inappropriate to be coming from the mouth of a teacher, but I took no notice and swept out towards the reception desk and plunked myself down into one of the garish chairs that usually seated guests of the school.
Man, mom was going to crack it. Any punishment she doled out would be reflective of how much sleep she had gotten in the past forty eight hours- which with the two night shifts she had just done, wouldn't be much. I whipped out my phone and scrolled through my contact list, searching for the last group text I had sent to Emma and Kim.
Kim, Emma and I had been best friends for ages. I don't have a nostalgic trip down memory lane without one or both of them being a key feature. We were all so different, yet meshed together like three crazed, melodramatic, loving sisters. Emma spent the majority of her time between mine and Kim's houses- her childhood wasn't fantastic, and it's even worse now that she actually stands up for herself. Our weekends were generally spent in each other's company doing whatever we could fid to interest us in this tiny, godforsaken town that was barely a dot on the map of Washington state. Our misadventures were often fuelled by crazy ideas of Emma's, or mine, kept PG rated by the more sensible and responsible Kim- who incidentally would also flip when she finds out that I'm suspended.
To: Emma; Kim
So the bastard suspended me- three days- K can I claim sanctuary at yours when my mom tears me a new one for the latest incident? Xo
I had barely finished sending the message when my phone vibrated in my hand, so I looked down at caller ID, swiped a quick glance at the receptionist behind her desk, casually shovelling Reece's Pieces into her mouth, and picked up the call.
"Kimmy! What a lovely surprise- you know I was just about to call you-" Kim was super attentive to the slightest of problems and tried to solve them as quickly and efficiently as possible. She was such a sensible girl- why I think my mother allowed me to spend a ridiculous amount of time with my friends was because whilst Emma was the ultimate recalcitrant bad girl, Kim had a good influence over the both of us, often stopping us to give thought to morality- which was quite often disregarded by Emma.
"Sarah, don't you even give me that! I can't believe you let yourself get suspended, is it going on your permanent record? What did your mom say?" Kim got out in all one breath.
"Well, I-" I tried to start, but when Kim really goes for it, she goes for it.
"Your mom's going to flip sideways and up the chimney! And of course it'll go on your record- I wonder if you can do extra credit or voluntary work to get it removed maybe?" Well now really, volunteering my precious time? I don't think so. It's just like Kim to suggest something so…helpful.
"Kim, will you just let me-" She was so frustrating! Put her in front of a complete stranger and she'd rather hang herself than speak out loud, but with me? I couldn't get the girl to shut it!
"And of course you're more than welcome to stay at my place, but I really think we should work on you not getting into these situations in the first place, I mean, really Sass, I know he touched you, but you were a little more forceful than necessary." Okay, Kim knows me better than this.
"KIM. You know for a fact that Tom Swanson is a demonic dirtbag and basically a chronic pest to every girl in the school. I could not in good conscience let him go on thinking it was acceptable to touch a girl without permission. Force was justified, and if it discontinues a sexual predator's bad behaviour before he claims a victim, well suspend me, I don't give a shit."
"Sass, I hardly think he's a sexual predator-" I stopped Kim's kind and well-meaning heart in it's tracks.
"Kim, do you know that one out of one hundred kids are psychopaths? I don't know what the numbers are for sexual predators, but I'm sure it's way more prevalent! He could be later in life, and anyway, he's just a tool," which was entirely correct in my judgment. Kim's kind-heartedness was well known, but in this case, misplaced. He had no right to grab me, and he'll think twice next time- there might not even be next time thanks to me!
Kim sighed, long and mournfully at my rebellious antics, "Right. I still think five ribs are excessive, but you're right. He's a tool. Anyway, I've got to dash- I just had a quick moment in-between classes- I'll head over to yours after I finish piano. Don't do anything stupid while I'm not there."
I chuckled at Kim's mom-like warning. Shaking my head, with a hand slapped over my eyes, I replied, "Yes mom. See you then," and hung up. Not two minutes later, after watching the receptionist shovel a further two packets of confectionary into her mouth, my phone vibrated, signalling Emma's response.
From: Emma
Roberts is a whiny bitch. Nxt time tell me whn yr gonna gt suspended n I'll stay home wit u. Xo
I rolled my eyes. If anyone was more likely to get suspended than me, it would be the prematurely cynical, chronically sarcastic rebellious other best friend of mine. Emma Black was a strange entity. Treated like crap in her own home, Emma's mom died when she was pretty young. She and her sister had been driving up to Port Angeles when a drunk driver had ploughed into their car, leaving them both instantly dead. Emma never like to talk about her, and often found it difficult to be with her mom's family. Lately she had grown kind of close though, with her mom's sister's son, Jacob. Jacob and his father Billy had both been devastated at their loss, but had managed to keep it together for each other. Emma's dad was the antithesis of 'together'. After the accident, he drank himself into a deep depression that had lasted these past eleven years, inconsolable at the loss of his wife and uncaring about the daughter she had left. He would barely look at Emma- the likeness between mother and daughter was astounding and I think it hurt for him to see Emma with such a zest for life.
Despite the tough times she had faced, Emma was, although the most rebellious, the most trustworthy and loyal friend you could have. The three of us were true to each other and that's basically all that mattered.
"Miss Jennings, you're mother is on her way," Roberts gleefully interrupted my musings.
"Oh shit," I whimpered.
Paul's POV
"…And then she like, swung her foot in this really cool karate kid move, and totally got him!"
"Uh-huh," I replied with a large dose of disinterest, but she just kept harping on.
"Yep. And then she was yelling at him, and he was practically crying on the floor- big girl. And then there were teachers everywhere- and Mr Roberts came and yelled at her, but she was totally cool about it and just walked off," the high pitched voice nagged on and on as I was rummaging around the kitchen cupboards for something decent to eat. Scratch that. Anything to eat. I was starving, my mid afternoon snack of three sandwiches at Emily's notwithstanding.
"Mmm. Sounds cool. Do we have any cereal, squirt?"
"Paul! Were you even listening to me? She's amazing! And I heard she broke five of his ribs!" Jessica squealed in delight, and admitting it only to myself, thought maybe Jess had more brains than I gave her credit for- if my kid sister was out admiring and hero-worshipping girls who packed a punch to a guy who touched them without their permission, not idiotic anorexia ridden figures that were on a lot of those trashy magazines she read. I wasn't complaining.
In actual fact, I had to admit that I thought it was pretty brave of a girl to stand up for herself- and why shouldn't she? No guy had any right to take unwanted liberties- my mom brought me up to be a gentleman, which meant respecting a lady. I may be hot headed and have smacked a fair few guys around, but I would never touch a girl.
Well, except maybe Leah.
Man, I got that Leah was all bitter and twisted about having to stomach the sight of Emily and Sam planning their wedding at the moment, but for the sake of the pack mentality, could she not keep her snarky thoughts to herself when we were in human form? We already had to endure it when we shifted every night for patrol.
After the Cullen's last 'visitors', and I shudder to use the word as it sounds way too civilized for the undead bastards, Sam had us running patrols in pairs round the clock- meaning that those of us in school were exhausted, and the one's lucky enough to be out of that hell-hole, were in a whole new purgatory.
I barely had time to scratch myself, let alone keep up with a girlfriend- which is a whole new story.
As a shape shifter, I couldn't avoid the thoughts of my pack mates. The imprinting numbers ran higher than any of the tribal elders ever thought possible. Sam was the first with Emily, then Jacob and his 'thing', Embry, Quil and Seth had all followed. While there were a few others who hadn't imprinted, Jared and I were the eldest members without imprints. If any of my brothers heard me say this, they'd probably beat me up, but with the constant thoughts of imprints, I had started to feel like I was missing out.
Jared and I were the eldest pack members to not have imprinted. The guys that had imprinted had gone all mushy in about two seconds, and stayed that way, but Jared and I had no one to come home to, and weren't allowed to interact with humans, which made for a celibate and ridiculously monotonous existence.
I contented myself with running extra patrols and watching Jess after school. She didn't know exactly what I did every night after she went to bed, but she had an inkling that something wasn't right- hey, she shares my intelligent genes after all.
Feeling myself beginning to get frustrated with the lack of edible products in our house, I swiped my keys off the table, haphazardly shoved my wallet in the back pocket of my shorts and turned the television off.
"Hey! I was watching that!" Jess squealed in indignant outrage, as I slapped her homework book shut and seized her by the waist.
Shrill shrieks rang loud from Jess as I hefted her over my shoulder and strode out the front door, pausing only to turn briefly and lock the front door.
"Hey! Shrek, I have homework to do," she tried to reason. I dumped her into the front seat of my truck.
"Mmmhmm well I'm hungry and if we don't get to the shops soon I might just sit I there and eat your book. How are you going to explain that one to your teachers?"
Jess pulled a face, "I'll just tell them my DOG ate my homework," poking her tongue out, which I proceeded to grab between two fingers, holding the slimy organ as she shrieked and squalled inelegantly.
Bending down and reaching across for her seatbelt, I let go of her tongue. Chuckling knowingly, I replied, "You're not far off the mark," and clicked the belt in, jogged round to my side and headed straight for the supermarket, my stomach growling the whole way.