Olivia Harrison was tired of Seattle. The city was wearing on her, after a year. The problem was that any city would be the same. That's why she'd decided to pack her trusty duffel and move to Forks. RJ and Monet were there to help her settle in, of course. They were the best sort-of-kind-of-adoptive-for-pretend parents a girl could ask for.
The three sat in plastic chairs outside the office at Forks High School (home of the Spartans). RJ had spent two hours that morning preparing everyone for their "roles". He'd slicked his mohawk back into some kind of demented comb over and had put a jacket, scarf, and gloves on to –sort of- cover up all the tattoos. He'd even gotten Monet to wear a hat to cover up the pink streaks in her braids. He looked ridiculous, but he was trying hard to look reputable. They were posing as Olivia's parents for the day, in order to get her into high school. They'd even gotten Jack, a computer whiz and forgery genius back at the squat, to make her some (seemingly) real papers. They made a convincing, if unorthodox, family.
"Olivia?" A sweet-looking, older woman poked her head out of the doorway. "We'll see you now."
The trio made their way to the desk and sat down, again. At least this time the chairs were marginally comfortable. Upon sitting down, Olivia realized how much was at stake. If the papers didn't come through, or if any of them slipped up, she would get sent back into the foster care system and RJ and Monet could get charged for fraud.
But then again, what did she have to worry about? Monet wasn't planning on talking much, and RJ had been the drama teacher at a high school in Seattle before a series of budget cuts got him axed. "The arts are always the first to go," he often lamented. Olivia herself wasn't a half bad liar. Anyway, this didn't seem like the kind of place for people to be terribly suspicious. Wary, maybe, of brightly-colored outsiders (Olivia had begun to dye her hair a brilliant orange four months before), but not enough to really matter. This high school also seemed like a good place to boost her business. People here looked like they could use a fresh, new internet music sensation like Carmella Dancing. But that could wait, of course.
"Olivia, honey, she asked you a question," RJ said, perhaps a mite exasperated.
"Oh, what? Sorry! Didn't catch that at all… I'm so spacey! Oops…hehe," Olivia, now out of her reverie, briefly imagined herself with a big, shiny anime sweat drop next to her head.
"I said that the last things to get in order are your electives," said the office-lady. "I wanted to know if you had any particular interests."
"Oh, right! Um… do you offer a film class?"
"There is a Literature and Film class with a spot open…"
"I'll take it!"
"And your second?"
"I get two? Sick! Um… orchestra. Is there room for another violin?"
"Of course… a moment please. So you're good on the violin, eh?"
RJ put a hand on Olivia's shoulder. "You bet she is. Our little prodigy!"
The woman smiled. "Here's your schedule… you'll start on Monday." She waved a sheet of paper back and forth to dry the ink before handing it to Olivia.
As they walked out, Olivia glanced at a clock on the wall. They'd been sitting there for two and a half hours. Wow, she had really spaced out.
"You'll have to visit every weekend you can, promise?" said Monet.
"Yes, Mommy-dearest," Olivia replied.
"And be careful in the woods, with the wild animals and whatnot," said RJ.
"Honestly, I'm more worried about rapists than bears-"
"Don't even remind me…" RJ moaned.
"I'm pretty covered, you know. I've got mace, a pocket knife, and a knack for scaling trees. I think I'll be okay. Besides, who goes out into the middle of no where looking for high-school girls? I won't even be on a designated campground. No one will know where I am, thanks."
"I'm just worried about you, you know. We really have come to think of you as family," said RJ.
"It's mutual, guys. Really. I just want a shot at a future, you know?" said Olivia.
"Which is the only reason we're letting you do this," said Monet.
The following Sunday found Olivia shoving the last of her belongings into her duffel. She would carry her violin case separately, to avoid squishing it. She'd worked too hard for that violin (no matter how cheap it was) to let it get messed up right before she actually got to join an orchestra.
An hour later, she was hugging everyone goodbye at the bus station. Goodbye, RJ. Goodbye, Monet. Goodbye, Jack, Mel, Manuel, and Dave. Jack, who had provided everyone with a squat to live in and Olivia with the papers she needed for school and the computer software she needed to run Carmella Dancing. Mel, who had taught her how to climb trees like a monkey in the local park. Manuel, who had instructed her in Spanish so that she wouldn't be too far behind in Spanish 4. Dave, who had introduced her to the wonderful world of raves. Goodbye, Seattle.
Hello, Forks.
Monday morning rolled around, and all Olivia wanted was to roll back into her sleeping bag. But she was at school, and that would be beyond even her boundaries of weird. Besides, the sleeping bag was back at the campsite she'd stayed up until past midnight to set up. Her hair was still damp from the shower she'd taken in the gym (she'd arrived at around four-thirty to sneak it in), but it was raining, so thankfully damp hair wasn't particularly out of the ordinary.
She pulled her hoodie tighter around her to keep out the chill of the hallway and put her head against her locker, hoping it might help her exhausted state. It didn't. She nearly fell asleep standing up when someone came up behind her.
"Hey! Are you new here? Wait, of course you are… I mean look at you! Sorry, that came out wrong… I'm Eric." The boy held out a hand, which Olivia took.
"Olivia. Olivia Harrison."
"Cool! Where are you from?" he asked.
"Seattle."
"Oh, that's not so bad compared to this other girl, Bella. She came here two weeks ago, from Arizona. She's definitely having a hard time adjusting to the climate."
"I can imagine," Olivia replied. "Say, can I eat lunch with you today? I don't know anybody and I've decided that you shall be my new friend. If that's okay with you, of course."
"What? Yeah! Yeah, great!" He looked thrilled.
"Sweet. So, can you tell me where…." she glanced at her schedule, "Mrs. Acosta's class is?"
"Oh yeah. That's actually right there," he said, pointing to the room directly across the hall. "I don't have her, but I've heard she's fun. But a real downer with homework. A little project-happy, you know? At least, that's what I've heard."
"Great, thanks. See you at lunch, then!"
"Yeah! Bye!"
Olivia walked over to the classroom, trying to ignore the stares of the other, more established students. Mrs. Acosta noticed her right away. "Olivia Harrison?"
Olivia wondered how often she was going to hear her whole name repeated like that that day. "Yep," she said.
"You can stand here until everyone gets in, then we'll introduce you and find you a seat, okay?"
"Sure."
Olivia watched as her new classmates filed in, chatting away, lost in their social bubbles. They all seemed perfectly normal, except for one guy. He was either in pain or he was a snob, it was hard to tell which. He talked to no one, keeping his pale, lanky self at a good distance from everyone else.
Mrs. Acosta clapped loudly, instantly silencing the class. "Well, students," she began, "we have another new student, as I'm sure you've all heard by now. So we're going to play the name game, but with a twist. So state your first and last name, an adjective describing you that begins with the same letter as your first name, and here's the twist: Tell us a book character that you feel you can most relate to. And, for the heck of it, throw in what kind of car you would be if you were an automobile."
Some of the class groaned, others giggled.
"I'm… Neat-o Nae Won… and I'd be… well I like Hermione Granger. If I was a car, I'd be a…"
"A SmartCar!" yelled someone in the back. "Everyone knows you're the school's resident genius, Nae!"
The rest of the class murmured in agreement. Nae gave in. "A SmartCar," she affirmed.
"I'm Kooky Kevin…"
"I'm Delicious Dylan Roberts…"
"And I'm most like Eragon…"
"Elizabeth Bennet…"
"I'm a blue mustang."
"And I'm a black hummer."
It was the possible-snob's turn. He seemed reluctant. "I'm jazzy Jasper Hale, I'm most like Paul Baumer of All Quiet on the Western Front, and I'd be a gray Mazarati."
Oh, he was definitely a snob.
Olivia's turn. "Hello, everyone. I am orange-" she tugged on her hair pointedly, "Olivia Harrison. I am most like Alice in Wonderland and if I were a car I would not be a car at all. I'd be a Kawasaki Ninja. So I'd beast you all in speed. Even you, Mister Mazarati."
Everyone giggled for a moment.
"Alright then, Orange Olivia, let's find you a seat," said Mrs. Acosta. "Rooms are crowded this year, we might have to bring in a new desk- wait! There you go, right next to Jasper over there. You're a bit behind in the Great Gatsby, but if you read a bit extra over the course of the week, you should be fine. If not, talk to me, okay?"
Olivia nodded and made her way back to the empty seat.
12/10: I'm really, really sorry to all of you. I've been, let me REPEAT, selfish and amateur, and I'm not going to let it happen again. The update/review policy is officially revoked. It was stupid. I don't deserve your time. If you really like Criminal Minds, you'll get off my worthless, shitty writing and go read someone like Cassieoeia823 or CatherineJosephineMarie007. Or if you like Jasper, you'll read chuffed-git, or if you like Harry Potter you'll read lostmidtranslation. They're all better than me and much more worth your time. I don't even follow up on real life promises, let alone the stuff I promise to people on here. Disgruntled Reader, whoever you are, thank you for disenchanting me as to my worth as a writer. I needed the reality check.
