Chapter 1: Decade
Walking up to the front entrance of the school, I could hear the muttered chattering of the students around me. Though, they weren't whispering about me; their interest in me had dwindled to where I was barely mentioned amongst the population. Of course, if I wished, I could have them talking about me for weeks on end, but my parents had warned me to stay low on the radar; who knows how much longer I'd had in this incareration of boredom, not that I really cared to move again.
As I walked briskly past my classmates, my sensitive ears innately caught snippets of their conversations.
"They're like gods!" One girl whispered to another.
"I wonder if they're single..." gushed another. I shook my head, amused, as I descended the stairs toward the cafeteria. The hum of the whispers were slightly drowned out as I approached the louder sounds of the hall bustling with students. I enter, flashing my smile and my ID at the teacher who stood by the doorway. He nods in my direction and I make my way toward the isolated table to my left. There sits my best friend, Elliot, better known as Elliot Wardley to the student population. His real surname was Travis but no one but my family knows his real name; just as no one but my family knows my real name. Here, my name is Arabelle Connors, a random name my mother conjured up when signing me up to attend the god-forsaken school. My ID that I just held matches that name and I even have a birth certificate to prove it. But they're just words to me; I've had enough names in the past that these are no more significant to me than the rush of wind that blows through my hair as someone comes in from the early September weather.
I sit down next to Elliot, snatching his soda from beside his school-issued laptop. He looks up and flashes a smile before going back to the screen. I pull a bag of cookies out of my bag and wave it in his face. He laughs, making a grab for the food but I jerk it out of his reach at the last second. He smirks at me with a knowing smile, waiting patiently. I giggle in response, snapping open the bag and handing him one. He nods in thanks before going back to his laptop. I put a cookie to my lips as my eyes sweep the cafeteria.
I almost choke.
In the opposite corner of the cafeteria, five teenagers sit stiffly, looking off in different directions. The sense of deja vu overwhelms me and I turn away from the newcomers, certain these people are the origin of my classmates' excitement. Elliot looks up at my outburst but I shake my head, swallowing the cookie whole. I pull out my new iPhone 6, the best smartphone the market can buy, in my opinion, and start fiddling with it. I am in the middle of a game of QuizUp when I hear a girl from my math class get up and approach our table. Elliot and I look up at the visitor; I smile in a friendly manner. The girl was Amy Finney, a shy sophomore who I could tell struggled in the class we shared.
"Hey, Amy, what's up?" I ask, allowing my tone to sound open so as not to make her more nervous than she already was. She relaxes visibly at my words and comes closer, looking down at the book and notebook in her hands.
"Hi, Arabelle, I was just wondering...it you could explain to me a certain point on the Calc topic from yesterday. I went to Ms. Gornick after school but she wasn't there and I know we have a test on Friday..." I interrupt the poor girl before she passes out with nervousness.
"It's cool, Amy. Come on, sit down," I say, my tone comforting and inviting. She tentatively sit besides me and opened her book. I offered her a cookie, a gesture that relaxes her enough to explain her issue with what the class had learned the day before. I explain the concept slowly, giving her analogies and explain the practice problems we had for homework. She walks away from the table, satisfied, thanking me profusely before going back to her friends and explaining the concept to them, as they had been too afraid to approach me themselves. A wry smile on my face, I glance through the topic we would be learning today. I sighed; derivatives with Quotient, Product, and Power Rule. Great, I think, let's confuse the poor kids even further.
The whole time, I am aware of the five teenagers sitting 60 feet away from me, not touching their food or speaking to each other, just like last time. Casually, I turn and lean against the wall beside the table, putting my legs up on the seats and crossing them. Holding my phone in my lap and glancing at Elliot's computer screen, I begin to taunt him.
"What are you doing that's taking so long?" I whine. His lips twitch in response.
"Why does it matter to you?" He replies, his eyes never leaving the screen. I kick his side with my right foot gently. He turns toward me.
"So you can focus on what's really important: me," I tease. He raises an eyebrow.
"Since when did you become so self-absorbed?" He asks, eyeing my body appreciatively. I laugh. I am about to answer him when I heard a gasp followed by four more, across the room. I look up toward the sound. Five pairs of golden eyes are fixed on me. Now that we are looking at each other, I quickly scan their appearances; they have not changed in the time since I last saw them. To them, though, I have changed.
My hair is a golden blonde, long and flowing over my shoulders. My eyes are a deep blue, like the stone lapis lazuli, with flecks of gold in their cores. I am wearing a white close-fitted shirt, with sleeves ending three-quarters of the way down my muscled arms. My shirt rides up a bit, and they can see my middrift, also muscled with visible abdominals. My dark jeans are close fitting too, hugging my hips just above my hip bone, a gold belt with crystals wrapped around me. My gold sandals and matching earrings complete the look.
Their eyes see this, yet they do not understand. To them, I should not look any different than a typical teenage girl. But my heart-shaped face, the shape of my eyes, my mannerisms as I sit and eat with Elliot, convince them that their memories are correct.
I have reminded them of someone from long ago, but I should not look like how I am. They are convinced I am she but do not understand how I could not have aged; it has been nearly ten years.
They believe I am Isabella Swan of Forks, Washington. And I am, in a sense, because Isabella Swan never existed.
Hey everyone! Sorry it took so long but I had organize my thoughts before I continued anything!
First, I Hurt and A Family's Love are complete. This story was originally going to be the continuation of I Hurt but I wanted to add another type of story so this is completely new.
Second, I am deleting Change of Fate because I do not want to keep you guys waiting and I do not want to disappoint you all :( I do not have the time to continue the story so I am not going to lead my followers on anymore.
Third, I do intend on finishing Miracle of Love. It is close to being down but I have not had a chance to write as this story has been swirling in my head for a long time.
This will be a long story and there will be a sequel so stay tuned! Tell me what you think! I love hearing all your reviews!
~Melinda :) 3