*I said 2006 because that was the year Twilight was first published
First Sight
My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, and I seriously could have melted. We had to roll the windows back up after a bird flew into the car, though. Don't ask how it happened, because I don't know. All I can tell you is that there was a lot of screaming and swerving, and a pedestrian or two may have been run over, but other than that, we were all very calm.
Anyway, the sky was blue and cloudless. I was wearing my favourite shirt. It showed two cactuses and two melons, and they were saying: (Cactus)"Nice pair of melons." And the melons say "What a bunch of pricks!" I was wearing it as a farewell gesture, and to make a good first impression at Forks. I didn't care too much for the thong, though.
I was heading to what seemed the cloudiest and rainiest place on earth: Forks. It was from this town that my mother escaped with me when I was a few months old. I'd been forced to spend every summer – ha, I say summer, but it was more like winter, with torrential rain, no exaggeration - here up until the age of fourteen. Finally, I put my foot down. I would put up with crappy weather no more, I tell you! After whining and moaning and slapping my dad, Charlie, a few times, he finally agreed to my plan of going to California for the summer. That's how it's been for three summers now: Whine, moan, slap, California! It's part of my survival guide.
I sacrificed my sunny lifestyle and possibility of skin cancer for a horrible life in Forks. I hated Forks. But I loved Phoenix; I loved the sun, the heat and the city, and I was giving it all up. I would miss it all.
"Ella," my mom said to me – I didn't bother correcting her about my name – "You don't have to go. I would like you to, but you don't have to."
My mom looks like me, but with short hair, and she smiles more. As I stared at her wide, childlike eyes, I felt a strong sense of guilt. How could I leave my loving, erotic – ERRATIC, I meant erratic! – Mother? Of course, she had Phil now, so she wouldn't be lonely, and I knew she'd want some "alone" time with him. Also, my mom is like an untrained, excited dog. If you leave her in the house alone, everything would be destroyed. Seriously, that's the best way to describe my mother: A crazy house pet.
"I want to go," I lied. Well, it was half true. I mean I didn't want to spend the next few months sleeping on the floor of an empty house with no heating. But I didn't exactly want to go.
"Tell Charlie I said hi."
"I probably won't. It would start a conversation that I wouldn't want to be involved in. Conversing isn't really my thing."
"Okay. I'll see you soon. Come home whenever you want. In fact, I'll leave dinner in the microwave for you every night, just in case." But I could tell she didn't really want me to come home until the due date. I was sure she wanted to spend some quality time with Phil. I could also tell it was a lie because she never cooks. Dinner means microwave meals or McDonalds in our house.
"Hm. Well, see you later. Love you." I said, and hugged her awkwardly.
"Yeah, you too." She said, returning the hug with an equal amount of awkwardness.
After mentally counting to seven – it's just a thing that I have to do when subjected to physical contact – I quickly let go of her and rushed onto the plane.
It was a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle. Then, another hour would be spent on another plane to Port Angeles and an hour drive with Charlie, my dad, to Forks. So, I spent my time on the plane as well as I could. I annoyed the people next to me by leaning as far as I could over their shoulder to read their newspapers. Surprisingly, the guy next to me let me lean over him until I got to his lap. I stayed with my head in his lap, and my butt in the other guy next to me's face until things got awkward. Then I removed myself from the poor man's lap and started kicking the chair in front of me. It was really funny, because there was a lady in that chair who must have been about, I'd say ninety or something. Then, she had some kind of seizure and the plane had to make an emergency landing. Finally, we took off again after the lady was carried to hospital. Hilarious. Overall, it was a pretty cool flight.
Finally we arrived at Port Angeles. I was dreading the hour-long drive with Charlie. He'd probably want to talk, or something crazy. I hate talking to people. It's so unnecessary. Don't get me wrong, I love my dad and all, but it's so awkward. Charlie had been nice, though. He'd got me a place in the local school, was going to help me get a car, and he seemed actually pleased that I was coming to stay with him. Well, the feeling's not mutual, buddy.
Charlie knew that I, like my mother, hated Forks. So, naturally he was a little confused by my decision to move there. In fact, he's still convinced that I'm part of the Witness Protection Programme. I knew that this was going to be a strange stay.
When I got off the plane, I saw that it was raining. At first, I refused to get off of the plane. I had to be dragged off it by airport security. Even then I protested, grabbing onto some women's hair. We both screamed. When they finally pulled me off of her, I was left with a handful of greasy grey hair. I kept it, as a reminder of the day my life ended.
Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. I was expecting this, not only because it's the only car he owns, but also because he thinks it makes him look cool. It doesn't.
As soon as he saw me he smiled, and hugged me.
"Don't worry, Bells," he cooed, "I'll never let those criminals get you."
"Dad, I told you, I'm not in the Witness Protection Programme!" I insisted, letting go of him after a mental count to seven.
"Don't worry Bells," he said, pretending to zip his lips shut, "Your secret is safe with me. And the rest of the town. It's fine, just try not to make any enemies, and you will be protected."
I sighed. Great. Now everyone thought I was running away from danger. Excellent. I just knew I would love my stay in Forks. As I turned around to get my bag, I tripped over the air, and crashed onto the concrete floor, headfirst.
Charlie helped me up.
"Oh my God, Bella! Are you okay?" he screeched.
"Yes," I said, embarrassed by his over-reaction.
"Bella, you've broken your nose! We need to get you to a hospital!" he said whilst fumbling through his pockets for a tissue.
"Dad, stop over-reacting! You're ruining my life! It's just a scratch! Nothing to worry about!" I insisted, pulling out a compact mirror from my coat pocket. Not too much damage. My nose was terribly off-centre, and basically hanging off of my face, there was blood oozing out of the open flesh, and you could see bone, but other than that, it was fine. Just a little powder, and maybe a plaster, and it'd be good as new.
Charlie looked at me in amazement.
"Right, well, let's go!" he said, leading me towards the car.
I grabbed my few bags and chucked them in the trunk of the cruiser. After, I got in the car, and we drove off.
"So, Bells, I got you a car. It's perfect for you, because it's cheap. And you're cheap. So, it's perfect for you," Charlie said, kicking off the dreaded conversation.
"What kind of car?" I asked, ignoring the fact that my dad had just called me cheap.
"A Chevy." He announced proudly.
"But that's a truck, not a car," I corrected him.
"Truck, car, same thing! They both have wheels."
"Yep." I said, hoping to end the conversation with that.
"Wondering where I found such an… um… antique?" he asked suggestively.
"No."
"Remember Billy Black from La Push, the tiny Indian Reservation on the coast?"
"No."
"He used to go fishing with us in the summer." He prompted.
"Yeah, that would explain why I don't remember him, Dad. I tend to block out painful memories." I sneered.
"Bitch."
"You'll get used to it."
"Anyway, he's in a wheelchair now, so he obviously can't drive it anymore. So he sold it to me real cheap."
"What year is it?"
"Uh, it's 2006*, Bells."
"Yeah, I know that. But, how old is the car?"
Charlie hesitated before answering, "Billy bought it in 1984. But even then, it was a couple of years old. Say around… 24 or 30 so years old before he bought it. But, trust me, it drives well!"
Oh well, at least I got a free car.
"Besides, no criminal is going to expect a teenager, such as yourself, to drive such a crappy, old truck!"
Again: It's free. It sucks, but it's free.
After that, there was a loud silence. I just stared out of the window. I wouldn't deny that the scenery was beautiful. But it was too green. It's like some kind of monster sneezed on everything. Gross.
Eventually, we got to Charlie's. He had a small, two-bedroom house. Outside of the house was my new – hardly new – truck. It was faded red, and incredibly large and rusty. Weirdly, I liked it. It wasn't so bad. All I had to do was imagine that it was a different car.
"Wow, Dad, I love it, thank you!" I exclaimed, with a Ferrari pictured in my mind.
"Your welcome," he said, blushing with embarrassment.
I took all of my stuff up to my room. The room was very familiar, with its' blue, slanting walls and yellow laced curtains. Just like when I was a baby. To my despair, I found that he had not gotten rid of the crib. He hadn't even bought a bed. I'd be sleeping in a tiny crib until I bought a bed. At least there was a desk with a crappy computer on it.
To top it all off, I had to share a bathroom with Charlie. I hated life.
One of the only good things about Charlie is he doesn't get in my way. Now, this isn't intentional. He's just lazy, and doesn't help much. But it's good for me, because I don't like being involved in conversation. Also, I took advantage of being alone to cry. I'm not talking staring out of the window, letting little sorrow-filled tears escape from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. I'm talking crazy-town. Rolling on the floor, pulling out my own hair, wailing and screaming.
For some reason, after this passed, I thought about Forks High School. It seemed scary, with only three hundred and fifty seven students. Everyone would know each other. I would be a stranger, a freak to everyone. As usual.
Fitting in would be so much easier if I looked like the girls did in Phoenix. Tanned, blonde and lean. But I was the complete opposite. I had ivory skin, dark brown hair - like ebony - and brown eyes; and although I'm absolutely hopeless when it comes to physical education, I have always resembled a stick insect. In fact, I am so terrible at sports, that once I put a girl in hospital for three months after a game of ping-pong. The racket slipped out of my hand! Honest!
It was while I was unpacking my stuff when I realised that I was just being a self-centred, ignorant fool. It wasn't just my looks that would help me fit in. It was me that stopped me from fitting in. I was a weird, awkward girl who couldn't participate in conversation without having a nervous breakdown. If I couldn't fit in with three thousand other kids back home, what were my chances here?
I didn't really get on with people my own age. They like clubbing, drinking, and getting pregnant. My idea of a good time is hanging around the nursing home in Phoenix. I like mature people. They banned me from there, though, once Rupert, an eighty-nine year old man there, and I started a rave.
I couldn't even get on with my mother most of the time, because we weren't exactly on the same page. I acted older than her, and I was her daughter. It made me wonder whether I was seeing things the same way others were. I was obviously messed up.
But it wasn't the cause of my unstable mental health issues that mattered. It was the effects. And tomorrow would be just the beginning.
I couldn't sleep that night, even after more crying. The rain wouldn't shut the Hell up. I tried to block out the sounds by pulling my quilt and pillow over my head. I thought I could slip into unconsciousness better if I couldn't breathe. It didn't work; in fact, all it did was almost kill me. But even when Charlie heard me screaming and removed the quilt and pillow, I couldn't sleep. Even when I tried to shoot and kill the rain, I couldn't sleep. I wondered if this was due to the fact that I was sleeping in a crib that even a three year old wouldn't be able to lie in without being cramped up. But finally… I fell asleep.
In the morning, I could not see anything out of the window because the fog was so thick. Not good for people with claustrophobia, like me. You could never see the sky here; it was like a cage, except not like a cage in any way whatsoever.
Before going downstairs for breakfast, I went into the bathroom to shower. The blood surrounding my nose had dried and it looked disgusting. I wiped off the blood, stuck my nose back into place with a plaster and powdered it. Good as new. Even if my nose was completely numb. After, I got dressed and went downstairs.
Breakfast with Charlie was very quiet. To begin with. I sat there eating my cereal while he stared intensely at me. I chewed whilst avoiding eye contact with him.
"DON'T WORRY. EVERYTHING. WILL. BE. FINE." He boomed suddenly, causing me to spill my cereal down my jeans and send the spoon clattering across the floor.
"Dad! What the hell!" I screeched, wiping my jeans frantically.
"Bells, I can see you're worrying about those criminals from Phoenix finding you. But don't worry. Everything will be fine. I'm here for you." He said, putting his hand on his heart.
"Dad! I'm not part of the Witness Protection Programme! Please, just stop it!" I insisted, grabbing my bag and stomping out to the truck.
I got into the truck and closed the door, shutting out the rain. Thankfully, it was nice and warm inside the truck. But unfortunately, it was also a pigsty. There was junk everywhere! There was some kind of brown liquid on the floor, and bras and panties on the passenger seat. There were flyers and food stains all over the truck, and some kind of casserole that was way past its expiration date on the drivers seat. And I had just sat in it. I was about to go in and change my jeans, but then Charlie came out of the house and started lightly jogging towards the truck, holding a pair of nunchucks, a can of pepper spray, and a flyer for the local "Martial Arts – DEFEND YOURSELF!" group.
"Bella," he was shouting, "These will help you! Just hear me out! Defend yourself!"
"Oh no," I murmured, starting the engine, and driving away as fast as I could.
The school was easy to find, and not too far away from the house. The school didn't actually look like a school, more like a row of old houses. I couldn't even see it properly at first, because of all the trees and shrubs. It was when I pulled into the parking lot when I got a good look at it. Where were the chain-link fences, the barbed wire? There weren't even any metal detectors! They had metal detectors at my school in Phoenix. I tested them one day by bringing a knife into school. I was taken to the police station and everything. When I was allowed home the next day, I complimented the police and school security on their handling of the situation, saying "You guys! You're awesome! You know just what you're doing! Well done! Any armed psychopath could have walked through the doors of our school and caused chaos, but you guys would not let that happen! Thank you so much for showing me how everything works. Next time, though, I would suggest increasing the power of the Taser-gun, because I was only unconscious for a few minutes, and you know psychos! They just won't stay down!"
I was avoided by my classmates ever since.
Anyway, I parked outside of the first building, which had a sign on the door reading "FRONT OFFICE". I wondered if it was the front office? Most likely. I got out of the truck and walked up the stone path leading to the door. Inside, it was brightly lit and scorching hot. I removed my jacket and fanned my face. The woman behind the desk smiled at me. She was on the large side, and had ginger hair. She was also wearing a purple shirt, so she kind of looked like a giant plum.
"Hello," she beamed.
"You look like a giant plum." I remarked. She seemed confused by this, and glared at me, so I repeated myself.
"I know what you said, I just thought it'd be best to ignore that unnecessary comment. Now, can I help you?" she asked, tugging uncomfortably at her shirt.
"I'm Isabella Swan," I informed her.
"Ah, yes, Chief Swan's daughter. Of course," her previously annoyed glare turned into a sympathetic stare, "I hear you've been through quite a rough patch back in Phoenix. But don't worry, you're safe here."
"Thank you." I said through gritted teeth. I stood there awkwardly while she fumbled through a large stack of files on her desk. Finally, she found what she needed and passed me a few sheets of paper.
"This here is your schedule, and this is a map of the school." She went through my classes with me and highlighted the classrooms I had to go to, etcetera. Finally, she gave me a slip that each teacher would have to sign, which I'd have to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me again, and told me to enjoy my day.
As I left I said, "You're quite nice, plumy."
She just stared as I left. I liked her; she was easy to talk to, because I wouldn't have to actually talk to her.
I got back in my truck, noticing that other students were starting to arrive. I joined in the line of traffic heading to the student parking lot. To my dismay, all of the cars were in some way nicer and more hygienic than mine. I pulled into a parking space and turned off the engine. In the truck I looked at the map of the school. I noticed that Plumy had left a nice message at the bottom of the map "I hate you". Awww. How sweet.
I suddenly felt very nervous. I was going to a new school with new people. I sucked in a deep breath, inhaling a fly in the process. With a little luck, maybe I'd choke to death. Unfortunately, luck was not on my side. So, I stumbled out of the car, with cereal stuck to the front of my jeans and mouldy tuna casserole to the back, and mustered as much dignity as I could. Which was not a lot.
I stepped onto the sidewalk, blending in with the rest of the teenagers.
First class was in building three, which was easy enough to find, with a large "3" painted on the side of the building. As I approached the door, I was on the verge of hyperventilating. I stood by the door for a few moments, composing myself, and calming down. Finally, I followed two people in raincoats through the door. The walking raincoats turned out to be two pale girls. They chatted whilst hanging up their coats. After placing my coat on the hook, I walked into the classroom.
I took the slip up to the teacher, a balding giant. I decided not to tell him that he was a balding giant, as he looked scary. His name was Mr Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name on the slip.
"Hey everyone! Listen up! This is Isabella Swan! The girl from the Witness Protection Programme!" he yelled to the class. Everyone stared at me. I suddenly became very fascinated with my shoes; I couldn't look away from them.
"Take a seat at the back, Isabella." He said, gesturing to the back of the class.
I stalked to the back of the class, and slumped in my seat. Everyone turned around to stare at me, so I studied the reading list that I had been given. I'd already read everything that was set for me to read. I wondered if Mom would send me my old essays, or if that would be cheating. I thought about this while the teacher droned on.
Finally, the bell rang. I gathered the sheets of paper, and placed them in my bag. A boy walked up to me. He had terrible skin and greasy black hair. He leaned against my table, and I leaned away from him, cowering in the corner.
Oh no, I thought, he wants me to take part in conversation. Idiot mode activated.
"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" he asked. I thought that it was quite a stupid thing to ask. I had just been introduced to the class.
Naturally, being part of conversation, I forgot my own name.
"Uh… I think so? Yes! That's my name! But, call me Bella." I said. Everyone within earshot turned to stare at me.
"Okay, Bella," he said, putting emphasis on my name, which irritated me, "I'm Eric. Where's your next class?"
"Government with Jefferson in building six," I informed him.
There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes. Seriously, I looked in my bag to avoid the awkwardness, and there was someone staring at me in there.
"I'm heading to building four! I'll show you the way!" he said enthusiastically.
"Thanks." I said, though I didn't really mean it. I would much rather be left alone.
We got our jackets and walked in the rain to our classes.
"So… ?" he said it really fast, as if it was all one word, "Phew, I've been dying to ask since I first saw you."
I was so fed up of trying to convince Charlie that I wasn't in the Witness Protection Programme; I thought I'd just go along with it to survive school life.
"Well, uh… you know theme parks?" I said. It was the first thing that came to my mind.
"Yeah." He said.
"Well, um, I went to one about a month ago, and there was a panda…uh…person. A panda person. And the panda person was angry and he, um, ate all of the children. So… I said 'no' to him and he… went home. The end."
He stopped and stared at me for a few moments.
"What?" he said.
"And now the panda person is after me… so… I have to hide…"
"None of what you just said actually made sense."
"Well, that's my life for you!" I laughed hysterically and walked on.
He caught up with me and we walked in awkward silence until we reached my class.
He stared at me.
"Well, bye!" he said and rushed away.
Great. I'd ruined my school life by telling someone that I was part of the Witness Protection Programme because a "panda person" who was also a cannibal was after me.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Some people asked me questions about why I was in the Witness Protection Programme, and some would ask me how I was liking Forks. Basically I just lied the whole day.
I sat next to the same girl in both Trig and Spanish. She walked with me to the cafeteria. She was so tiny and adorable. I just wanted to squeeze her cheeks, but it would be weird and also involve physical contact that neither of us would want to participate in. I couldn't remember her name though. We sat with a few of her friends. I sat there awkwardly as she introduced me to them. I forgot all of their names immediately.
I looked across the room to see Eric pointing at me. A couple of his friends looked over. Not seeing me staring, Eric, after pointing as me, gestured to his chest. I could make out the word "Boobies" while his friends leaned in closer to him, intrigued to whatever he was saying.
I blushed and turned away.
It was there, in the cafeteria, avoiding unwanted conversation with complete strangers, when I first saw them.
They were sitting in the corner of the lunch hall, as far away from me as possible. There were five of them. They weren't talking or eating; they weren't even looking at each other. But it wasn't any of these things that caught my attention.
They looked nothing alike. One boy was big and muscular, with curly black hair. It looked as if he was talking to his biceps; and it was confirmed that he was, in fact, conversing with his biceps when he started kissing them. Not just a peck, but like a French kiss. Gross.
Another boy was taller, but well built, too. He had tousled honey-blonde hair, and was staring into the distance. He looked as though he was either terribly constipated or in horrible pain. Either way, he was awkward to look at.
The last looked younger. He was lanky, not as bulky as the others. He had untidy, bronze coloured hair and looked tired and a little angry.
The girls were opposites. One girl was blonde, beautiful and absolutely perfect. She looked like a statue, partly because she was so perfect, but also because she was sitting very still, and had the figure of a porn star, with long, golden hair, flowing to her waist. She looked like someone out of that show. You know… the one with the beach, the swimsuits and the slow motion running? And boobs? Well, she looked like she could be in that show, anyway.
The other girl was shorter and looked like a pixie. She had deep black, short hair, pointing in every direction, which made her look as if she'd been electrocuted.
Although they all looked different, they were all alike. They all had amazingly pale skin, as it they'd been rolling around in baby powder and all had very dark eyes. They also had dark shadows under their eyes, as if they'd been suffering from sleepless nights, or recovering from a broken nose – like me! But their noses looked fine.
But this is not why I couldn't look away.
I kept staring because they were all so beautiful! Seriously, they looked like they'd been airbrushed to infinity and beyond – as if they've stepped out of the cover of a magazine. I couldn't decide which one was the most beautiful – maybe the porn star, or the ginger kid.
They were all looking away from each other and the other students. Suddenly, the small girl rose, holding her tray. She then strutted – actually strutted – towards the bin, as if she belonged on a runway. I was just thinking this when loads of people jumped out of nowhere, taking pictures of her. They were all calling her name: "Alice! Alice, over here!" and she started posing with the tray which contained an unopened can of soda, and an uneaten apple. She then dumped them in the bin, and danced towards the door, taking the paparazzi with her. She was unbelievably fast. I turned my attention back to the others, who still sat frozen.
They must have been in a really tense game of Musical Statues…
"Who are they?" I finally asked the girl from my Spanish class.
She looked up to see who I was talking about, and was about to tell me, when the ginger kid looked at her. She immediately looked away. Then his dark eyes focused on mine.
I kept staring. He didn't look away. I didn't look away.
Oh, he was asking for it.
Staring battle.
I have no idea how long it went on for. But the Spanish class girl kept talking anyway.
"That's Emmett and Edward Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The girl who looks as if she's been electrocuted is Alice. They all live together with Dr Cullen and his wife." She said while I continued the staring battle.
They all had old peoples' names. Ha.
"Thank you for the information, Spanish Class person." I said sincerely.
"Uh… my name is Jessica…" she said.
"Okay, Spanish Class person. They are all very pretty, aren't they?" I said, still staring at the ginger kid. I would not be defeated.
"Yeah. But don't get your hopes up. They're all together. As in, they're all dating each other, Rosalie and Emmet, Alice and Jasper, Edward and the mirror…"
That's when I stopped the staring battle. I spun around to face the Spanish Class person.
"Sick-incesty-bastards!" I exclaimed, rubbing my eyes, ashamed of staring at that sick ginger THING!
"Well, they're not exactly related…they're all adopted, after all."
"Still gross."
"Whatever," she said dismissively, turning to another girl.
I sat there, trying not to look at those disgustingly beautiful people.
After lunch, me and this girl called Angela walked to Biology together in silence. When we got to class, she went and sat in her assigned seat. All of the tables were full, except one at the back. And guess who was sitting there?
Ginger kid.
I walked up to the teacher, and handed him the slip of paper. He signed it, and then gave it back without a word. No introduction, nothing. He was as awkward as I was. I had a feeling that we were going to get on just fine. I stood there until he looked up, then I gave him my best smile. Eyes opened as wide as possible, flared nostrils, and bared teeth. He looked quite frightened, so I gave him a knowing look.
"What's your name then?" I asked.
"Uh… Mr Banner. I guess that you're Isabella Swan?" he asked.
"Just Bella. I'll see you around." I said, strutting away.
On my way to my seat, I fell over again. My bandage fell of, causing my nose to flop off of my face again. Everybody screamed. Some other people puked, and one girl even fainted. I tried to put the bandage back on, but it wouldn't stick, so I left it on the floor.
I took my seat at the back, next to the ginger kid, who again was sitting still and tense in his seat.
"Listen, I don't like to play games, especially not musical statues. So, you can play all you want, but I'm not joining in." I said.
He just sat there. I sighed and turned my attention to whatever Mr Banner was saying. Something about calling 911 or whatever. He was really quite dreamy. I loved his big belly, and greying hair. I wondered if he was married.
It took sometime before I felt the ginger kids coal black eyes bore into me.
I looked at him, and he dropped his eyes.
"Pervert." I muttered under my breath.
Eventually the paramedics came, carrying out the girl who fainted. They then tried to make me go with them to hospital, but I refused. They then gave me a new plaster, and left.
Throughout the class, I'd catch the ginger kid staring at me. He was really starting to get on my nerves. He was also making me paranoid. Did I stink? I mean, I knew that I'd had a shower that morning, but I was known for sweating profusely when nervous. I lifted my arm up to smell my armpits. They did smell a little funky, so I sprayed them with highly flammable deodorant. Big mistake.
Never, and I mean never, spray deodorant near a Bunsen Burner. Bad idea. I set my desk on fire. Everyone evacuated the building, and the fire brigade was called. The damage was minimal, but Charlie was sent a pretty large bill.
Even while everyone was panicking, the ginger kid kept staring at me. He was so creepy. Finally the bell rang, and everyone started to go home. I looked around and the ginger kid was gone.
Before leaving, I walked up to the distressed Mr Banner and pressed a strip of paper containing my phone number into his hand. I winked at him, and walked away.
I stalked back to the front office to hand in the slip.
He was there. The ginger kid…
I hesitated at the door, not wanting him to see me. I then sighed and opened the door, letting in a blast of cold air. He stiffened and turned to face me.
"Never mind then," he snarled and ran out of the room.
I stared after him, wondering what I had done to make him hate me. I hadn't even had a proper conversation with him yet.
Finally, I walked up to the front desk, where the Plumy lady sat.
"Oh, hello again," she said, shrinking back into her seat, "Did you have a nice day?"
"Not really, Plumy." I sighed, handing her my slip.
"Listen, I'm not fat! I'm pregnant, okay?" she shouted, "So stop calling me Plumy!"
"You can call being fat whatever you want, Plumy, but you can't avoid the facts!" I said, waving as I exited the building.
I got into my truck, again sitting on the casserole. It was kind of comfy when you got used to it. I sat there for a moment, looking across the empty car park, and assessing the day.
Everyone thought I was part of the Witness Protection Programme.
Everyone thought I was gross because of my broken nose.
A psychotic ginger kid called Edward was stalking me.
I had an imaginary Cannibal Panda Person chasing me.
Not a very good day overall.
At least I had my best friend…
Mr Banner.
I smiled to myself, started the engine, and drove back to Charlie's.