A/N: Because I'm not a huge Twilight fan, I don't know everything about the series and in fact, I haven't read the last book nor will I probably never. Maybe I'll watch the movie when it's out on dvd but yes! Not a big fan, don't be a hater or do because you guys are hilarious. SO MOSTLY CONSIDER THIS SLIGHTLY AU, or a lot AU because Paul ain't hooking up with a Jacob's sister.
Thanks for giving this a chance. This is just a prologue so yeah. It's fucking short. OH YEAH...
WARNINGS FOR LANGUAGE AND VIOLENCE (for later, if anyone likes this enough to get that far.)
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Paul Walker, Monday: first period.
I'm so fucking tired right now. It's all I can think about. Every time I blink I swear it takes me twice as long and it feels so awesome to just shut my eyes. I wish I could just shut them and keep them shut all fucking day long. But I really need to pay attention to Mr. Stone, shit though, he's got such a droning voice, it's all monotone and boring. Of coarse he has to be my literature teacher, my least favorite subject. Not that I don't like reading... just that all the books he assigns are as interesting as dirt. I got to pass though, got to pay attention so I can graduate and be done.
Fuck, my head feels heavy. If I could just lay it down on my desk for five minutes. I know I'll fall asleep in a second if I did that. I need to pay attention. I need coffee, or an energy drink. Or a nap.
What's he talking about now?
...Oh. Right, the symbolism.
I scribble down a few of his words. I'm trying, I really am.
Except my mind drifts away from Mr. Stone's dull voice and I'm trying to remember what I ate for breakfast and where I put my headphones and wondering what my mom is gonna make for dinner or if the Pack is meeting up at Emily's and Sam's. Yup, officially dazed off now, next stop dreamland.
If only whoever just jabbed me in the shoulder would knock it off. I ignore it at first, I'm to tired to get angry. But it happened again, a persistent poking right in between my shoulder blades. I whip around faster than I feel able to, ready to tear a new one to the asshole poking me but the murderous feeling drains away as our eyes connect.
I know him. Connor Wilks. Everybody calls him C.K. but I've known him since before that. We started kindergarden together and had a few classes since than. Every class that we've had together, at one point or another, we've sat next to each other. Wilks comes after Walker alphabetically and all. And it was the same now. Connor Wilks sat behind me in alphabetical order, poking me in the shoulder while I tried to sleep and I was pissed. Or I wanted to be pissed, I really did. I think a good hot rage would wake me up but I just wasn't feeling it.
"Dude."
His voice startled me. I realized I was staring at him, spacing off in my own thoughts and he was looking at me with one eyebrow raised and a little smile turning his lip up at the corner. I haven't talked to or even seen Connor in a couple of years, he's changed from what I remember. Still looks pretty much the same though.
"Dude? Your pencil. You dropped it." he whispers and waves my mechanical pencil back and forth in front of my face.
I snatch it out of his hand before I can even process I moved. The guy flinches, a sharp hiss of breath as he inhales a gasp leaves his mouth, his eyes widen at the scare but then he shakes head and huffs a little laugh. I wonder what he's thinking and then I wonder why I'm wondering about what he's wondering and I'm suddenly not as tired as was just a few seconds ago.
"Your welcome," he tells me.
I look from my pencil to him, I want to say something but I can't get my mouth to work with my brain. It's pretty embarrassing, usually I wouldn't give a shit. I don't know what's so different now. Great, he probably thinks I'm a psycho (why do I care about what he thinks of me?) so I just try to save myself some dignity and turn back around in my seat. I don't know what's going on with me.
The longer I sit there the more I know that something isn't right. Like, somehow the world just changed. I'm suddenly hyper aware of his presence behind me. I can feel where he touched my pencil, I hear every intake of breath, I take notice when he shifts in his seat, writes down something, itches his arm, I can fucking smell him. It's awesome. He smells amazing. Freshly showered, like cloves and musk and burning incense.
I'm freaking out.
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Told you it was as short as shit. Real chapters will be longer if anybody is interested in this story, let me know by. REVIEWING PLEASE. 3
(my first fic by the way ;3 )