This is my first story and I'm hoping people who read it like it. It's not about the Cullen family or Bella, but it's a 17 year old's search to find her perfect Edward.
Finding my perfect Edward Cullen
1
In the world of Werewolves and vampires, everything is planned out for the characters. The one thing that these characters lack, is a taste of reality. Sure, Stephenie Meyer's world seems realistic enough, but falling in love just isn't that easy. I am one of those kinds of people who check their horoscope everyday, just to see it say "You will fall in love today". I have learned so many times in my seventeen years of life, that no matter how many times you say "I love you", and mean it, nothing will make you feel better… almost complete… than saying that to your one true love.
****************
Tuesday, November 17 6:21
My house
Call me. Call me. I was sitting on my bed staring at my cell phone. Call me. My phone sat quietly, waiting for someone to revive it.
"Come on, Sam. You said you'd call." I was aggravated. My life had taken a turn for the worse today. Love was a complicated thing… more complicated than I ever would have thought.
You're hot then your cold, your yes then your no, your in then you-
I picked up my phone mid ring. "Hello?" I asked, quickly.
"O-M-G, Khalen what happened?! I heard Mallory talking about it in P.E." She was breathless
"Mallory? How would she know?" I asked chewing my non-existent nails.
"I thought you told her…" I heard Sam gasp. "Oh! What a little brat! She thinks she so superior, doesn't she?"
" Okay, now that we're on the same page, can I tell you what happened?" I asked, even though the voice in my head was saying not to say anything.
"Of course."
****************
Tuesday, November 17 2:10
French Class
"Bonjour, Madame Boullior." I said as I walked into the room.
She scowled at me as I walked into the classroom late. I looked around the room frantically, trying to find an open seat. Luckily there was a seat open in the back of the classroom, with no one sitting at it.
I sat quietly and pulled out my sketch pad. I also flipped open my french book to make it look like I was actually paying attention.
I had been working on a self portrait for the past week. Well, not a self-portrait, but a portrait none the less. It was of Jonah, my long-time… I really wouldn't call it a crush. I never think of him as a crush. In my book a crush is someone you think is pretty hot, but then suddenly think is ugly.
Jonah had never been just a crush. I had always thought he was flawless, and gorgeous. Not hot. That was a pre-teen term used by boy-crazed girls.
So far my portrait looked pretty good for a weeks worth of work. Sadly I hadn't been doing my homework, which was unusual for me. I had gotten Jonah's features down, perfectly matching his head shot. I had the rough outline of his hair, which would be my main goal during this hour.
My drawing hand was cramping. I had been drawing for at least 45 minutes straight. I closed my sketches and looked up at my book. From the corner of my eye I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye.
I caught eyes with his hazel-brown eyes. My mouth hung open like a fly trap. He smiled, and laughed a little at my expression.
"Something funny, back there?" Madame Boullior called back to us.
"Non, Madame." Jonah answered , in a perfect french accent.
The bell rang, exactly after Jonah answered her. I gathered my books and started to run back to my locker. My boot obvioulsy wanted to kill me from embarrasement, so instead of letting me go straight to my locker, the tip of my shoe caught the lip of the door.
My books scattered on the floor, and in my haste to get to my locker I picked up all books except the most important.
The next thing I knew I was crying on the steering wheel of my car. Sara Moyom had found my sketch book and had looked through all of my sketches. Not a single sketch in that book lacked a figure of jonah. I had drawn countless pictures of Jonah and I kissing and dancing.
Once I got back to my locker after history, I noticed Sara laughing while showing Jonah all of the sketches. He looked at them with wide bugging eyes. That's when I ran and left the school's premises at once.
****************
Tuesday, November 17 6:33
My house
"He saw all of your sketches! I'm am so sorry! I know how detailed your sketches can be! They're amazing, but I have one question for you. If you had these very very detailed sketches, why did you bring the book to school? You know how the school is known for kids stealing other peoples belongings? They don't call it 'University of Juvenile Delinquents' for nothing Khalen."
"God, Sam! Would you just listen to me!? Not only did he see all the sketches, he saw me drawing him! It wouldn't be so bad if he didn't see me drawing him!" I was staring at my reflection in the mirror of my bathroom.
"Okay, calm down Khalen. Everything will be fine. I'm on my way over right now. Don't move anywhere. I'll be there in five minutes!" She hung up without a goodbye.
I ran back to my bed, to sulk in my misery. I covered my head with my sheets. What was I supposed to say to him if he asks why I drew him?
"So, Khalen, you drew quite I lot of pictures of me. why?"
"Oh, um, a, ah, English project. Yeah. We have to draw someone who inspires us."
" I inspire you?"
"Um…"
I could barely think those words. Why was it so hard to talk to people… guys especially. Apparently everyone wanted me to fail life. No one would ever say hi to me in hallways. No guys ever ask me to dance. And now, Jonah will never look my way again because of those stupid sketches. I should just burn that book…if I ever get it back.
Now all I can do is mope. I can be sad, and cry if I wanted to. I laid my head down on my pillow, like they do in movies waiting for tears to come. My breath was making the pillow warm and damp. I lifted my head to see the pillow dry, no tears came. Maybe I wasn't sad… maybe I was…Relieved. Relieved because now I didn't have to sneak around the truth. Telling lies to people, and acting like I didn't care. Maybe all I could do now, is hope that Jonah wouldn't look at this the wrong way.
Here's hoping.