A/N: Addie's been flying around in my head for months now, as well as Savannah, the mc in my other new story, Sinclair.

I'm not actually Southern, but my paternal grandmother is from Missouri and my foster family was from Texas. Meaning, I'm a white Yankee girl, so I'm not too good at writing Southern accents but I think I understand the culture. Deal with it or offer to help if you have a problem.

When I woke that morning, I ran into the bathroom and sat on the floor. Seconds before I put my head in the toilet, I heard my brother yell, "There's no need to be nervous, Addie."

I stopped vomiting long enough to yell back, "You're nervous too, Jazz!"

Jasper Whitlock was my older brother and legal guardian. We were both from one of Huston, Texas' older families, going all the way back to Jonathan Whitlock and his two siblings, Jasper and Adeline. Both of our namesakes died during the War. I don't mean 1918 or 1945. I mean 1861. The one most people call the Civil War or the War of the Rebellion. My family just calls it the War.

Japer number 1 had been in the Confederate army and died at the Battle of Galveston, a major at the tender age of twenty or twenty one. Adeline had died from a fever only days after the family learned that Jasper was no more.

My mother Savannah, who was not a Whitlock but a run-of-the-mill Smith, swore that Jasper never died. Whether he was a spirit or some sort of immortal being, I never heard. She had died in a mental hospital a few years ago, where Grandma and Grandpa Smith locked her up after our father died in a car accident. Jazz and I don't normally talk about it. Neither one of us could stand our grandparents.

Jazz sat next to be on the bathroom, holding my curly (almost to the point of fuzziness) blonde hair out of the way. "I'm sorry. It's hard not to be nervous for you. Neither one of us has gone to public school or lived outside of Texas."

In fact, Maine was as far away from Huston as we could get without leaving the country or moving to Hawaii or Alaska. We had been living here for two months while Jazz adjusted to his new job at the hospital and the legal guardian paperwork came through. The main focus of my time was getting rid of my annoying accent, a subject I was failing. The other thing I tried to was to avoid anyone with negative emotions.

My stomach did not like me when I got around people who were angry, sad, scared or anything relatively negative. If I was feeling the same thing at the time I encountered such a person or if they were really unhappy, I could be doubled over in pain, if not vomiting like I was now.

As Jazz's nervousness and concern rolled over me, the last of what had been in my stomach entered the toilet. "That's not helping, Jazz," I mumbled.

"Right." His hand moved away, lessening the pain slightly. "Are you sure you can handle being around so people?"

"If I avoid eye contact, the affect should be watered down by the number of people who are happy. Unless I'm in Public Speaking or Drama I should be fine. Please stop worrying," I groaned.

"I have to get to work anyway, kiddo. Come back home and call me if you can't handle it."

I dressed in my favorite fifties style black with white polka dots skirt and a white turtle neck. Slipping on my new black and white checker board rain boots, I quickly grabbed my lunch (almond butter and raisin sandwich, carrot sticks, and sweet tea) and my three notebooks. The school was two blocks from the small New England style home we were renting, so the walk was short.

Once my stomach told me that the lady had the front desk was positive, I stepped inside, smiled pleasantly and said, "Excuse me, ma'am, but I'm Adeline Whitlock, the new student."

She looked at my naturally tan skin and out of place outfit and asked, "Aren't you from Texas?"

I blushed. Once, before my father died, I had dreamed of being a debutant. Both of my grandmothers (one to make up for having no daughters and the other because her daughter was crazy) encouraged it, and I worked really hard toward being prefect. I wasn't wearing makeup and all the stuff in my Texas cold weather wardrobe were two year old long skirts and turtle necks. I hadn't gotten enough money to buy pants since this all started.

"Yes, ma'am. My brother just got a job at the hospital."

She smiled, but a wave of invisible pity nearly knocked me over. Clearly, even people from the other side of the country knew I was an orphan. "Your homeroom is number 12, Adeline. Mr. Philips will give you your class schedule there." Then she passed me a half sheet of pink paper. "And you're late, so he'll want one of these."

The main high school was one story, with one long hallway. Even classrooms (2 to 20) were on one side and odd (1 to 19) were on the other. I went to the middle of the hall and then entered the classroom on the left. I quickly stepped inside and the teacher barked, "Who are you?"

"Adeline Whitlock, sir," I recited. I heard a distinct but barely audible gasp from the back of the room. No one else seemed to notice, so I shrugged them off, focusing more on than floor then my teacher's anger or my classmates.

"Take a seat next to Hale," he ordered, pointing to seat in the corner next to a pale blonde boy who looked too old to be in high school, let alone a sophomore.

I nodded, guessing that being too polite might be stupid and mistaken for sassing. I headed for my seat.

"After you introduce yourself to the class."

I stepped back to my place beside him. Public speaking was okay, as long as I didn't focus on one person. "My name is Adeline Whitlock," I said in my sweetest pageant-approved voice, the only way I could act like I couldn't feel the negativity coming from the teacher. "I am a sophomore, and yes, I am from Houston Texas and I talk funny. I'm living here because my brother is doing his residency at the county hospital. If ya'll ask me what happened to my parents, you will be punched, no matter who you happen to be or how much trouble I get in." I fake skipped to my seat. "Thank you." Then I sat.

An unexpected wave of every emotion imaginable and some I couldn't hit me instantly. My smirk quickly faded to a forced 'Barbie' smile and I gripped the table. It was both the stomach cramping pain that came of negativity and the dizzying high that came from extreme happiness. I had never felt both at once because groups this big diluted it.

I barely managed to look up and notice that Hale, or whatever the name of the really pale 'I'm too old for this' man sitting was, was studying me. I tried to take a mental note of his expressions and feelings but my vision blurred from the pain and I started to slide out of my seat. I didn't even have time to think about hiding what caused the sudden change in my health.

The bell rang and Hale left the classroom, taking the emotion sickness with him. My encounter with him had lasted only seconds, but I was pretty sure he was dipolar or something. Why else would it feel like every emotion in the room passed through him before it got to me?

I grabbed my notebooks and lunch and walked back to Mr. Philips, back to my 'I'm-as-normal-as-a-girl-from-Texas-living-in-Maine-possibly-can-be' persona. "The secretary said you had my schedule?" I asked softly, trying not to provoke him. I had had enough people-induced illness for one day.

He handed me two pieces of paper, and sarcastically said, "I'd warn you not to cross me, but it appears that I need to worry about not crossing you."

The white one was obviously my timetable and he had handed back the pink slip I had forgot I passed to him. I read the white one first.

Whitlock, Adeline R.

Homeroom: Philips, rm. 12

1st period: Gym

2nd period: Geometry, Johnson, rm. 6

3rd period: English, Greene, rm. 17

Lunch

4th period: US History, Part 2, rm. 3

5th period: Intermediate Biology, rm. 9/10

6th period: Independent Study, Philips, rm. 12

While I walked to the gym, (which was outside and across the parking lot) I began regret asking for Independent Study rather than sit in Spanish Exploratory or help in the library. I had already learned a fair amount of French for no reason at all and declared that I had no desire to be trilingual. They had probably just stuck me in Philips' classroom because he was my homeroom teacher, not because he actually knew French.

Gym was delightfully emotionally uneventful. No one got hurt and they were all too distracted to feel anything deeper than surprise. I made a note to remember that Dodge Ball was a great game to play when I was not in the mood to deal with someone else's problems.

In fact, I was happy. Without knowing about gym, I hadn't needed to dress down, so I could watch. There was large, curly headed boy with stone-colored skin lazily grazing people with the red rubber balls. When he was finally hit, it seemed like it would have been easy to avoid. I rubbed my eyes. It must have been the lack of sleep. Surely, a jock-like boy like him would want to win, not purposefully loose.

"That's Emmett Cullen," a girl in a very nice looking track suit explained, stepping in to walk beside me to Geometry. "All of the doctor's kids are really weird. Don't worry, he rarely talks to anyone."

I ignored her words, just happy that she was feeling a vague positive emotion. My personal favorite.

"I wasn't expecting you to be able to say something like that," she continued. "I mean, Mr. Philips was livid. Didn't you notice?"

No, I thought. I was too busy trying not to fall out of my seat because of the psychopath sitting next to me. "Is the closest fractional equivalent to pi twenty-two over seven?" I replied, honestly.

"What?"

"Never mind. I'm Addie." I held out my hand for her to shake.

"Gretchen. How many detentions did you get?"

I looked down at the slip of pink paper.

Student Name: Adeline Whitlock

Assigning Teacher: Philips

Homeroom Teacher: Philips

Punishment: eleven days detention

Reason(s): one day for tardiness, one week for back talk, one week for intimidating other students/staff

Please give this slip to your parent/legal guardian(s) to sign

I stared at that last line, fearfully. "It's only my first day," I groaned. "Jazz is going to kill me!"

Gretchen bit her lip. "You'll need him to sign that before tomorrow. I can drive you to the hospital after school if you want."

"Yeah, he's supposed to be there for three days, almost straight. There's no way I can walk that far. Thanks Gretchen."

"Hey, no problem. See you at lunch."

No one else talked to me and I only caught one spiky haired female freshman smiling at me. Everyone else seemed to either fear me, or had already forgotten I existed. It turned out the Gretchen and I had a lot in common. She was from Idaho but her dad had gotten a job out here.

"No one likes me either," she said, patting my hand. "Small towns are too full of gossip for their own good." She read my face. "Are you okay? You look like you're about to barf up that sandwich."

I looked up from my carrots and I tried to smile. Hale was sitting a few tables over, and it felt like he was the center of a strange emotion hole. It took all my strength not to go over there and likely be destroyed by too many emotions. Instead, I ran for the bathroom, hit my knees and emptied my stomach into the smelly public toilet.

"Addie?" Gretchen asked, coming into the bathroom. "Oh, my god, Addie! I'm getting the nurse! It'll only take a second!"

I had barely heard her. As the door closed behind her, I left a brief moment of calm. It only lasted a few seconds, but it came as such a relief, I didn't care. It wasn't like there was anything left for me to barf up. My head went back in the toilet, my body lurching with dry heaves.

"Adeline?" a gentle voice asked. "Can you hear me?" I nodded, heaving. "We called an ambulance."

I groaned. Yep, I am so dead.