Title: We, Intertwined
Author: MarinasDiamonds
Rating: T-M
A/N: This was posted under my old account, but I deleted it. Please enjoy, read and review!
The morning dawned gray and drizzly, and with a sigh I resigned myself to the fact that this is how my mornings would be from now on. Yes, moving from Washington DC to La Push would definitely be an adjustment. I stayed flopped in my covers for a little while longer until I heard the intercom buzz.
"Vera, you need to be downstairs in 10 minutes," said my mother's chilly tone crackling through the tinny speakers. I groaned and rolled off the bed. My body hit the floor with a resounding thud and I rolled to my feet. I trudged to the bathroom and was greeted by the sight of my little sister, Agnes, lying on the tiled floor.
"Agnes!" I cried, stumbling to the ground. She could have slipped and fallen on the wet floor or she could have cracked her head on the vanity or…
"Stop fussing, Veer. I'm just taking a break," Agnes laughed.
"Taking a break from what?! You just woke up!" I exclaimed. Agnes's chest was rising and falling with suppressed laughter.
"Taking a break from straightening my hair. It's an endeavor," she giggled.
Agnes was 15 years old, and far too smart for her age. Her dark brown hair was lush and straight, while mine was light blonde and wavy.
"It's drizzling out, so I doubt it will stay straight for long," I said as I walked towards my vanity. I quickly undid my hair from the braid and smoothed the waves out with my fingers. Deciding on a first day hairstyle was an extremely important part of this morning's ritual. If I didn't show up with a fierce hairstyle and outfit, my confidence would be shot.
"Ags, how are you doing your hair?" I asked as I twirled a strand of my own ash blonde hair around my index finger. Agnes was getting her hair pin straight and it looked like she was going for a retro beehive type thing. She left a few piecy strands hanging around her ears. No matter what she did to her hair, Agnes always managed to look beyond badass.
"Do you like it?" she asked, turning around for my approval.
"Yeah, it looks really good," I replied. It was an awesome first day style, but it would be unthinkable for me to copy her it.
"I think you should just like, make low, loose ponytails and tie them with ribbons,"
"That's not a bad idea," I mused. I parted my hair in the middle and decided to braid the ponytails halfway down before tying them off with lavender ribbons. As I was walking into my closet, I noticed an iPod dock recessed into the wall. I smiled to myself-whoever designed this house knew me well. I fetched my iPod classic from my Kate Spade and plugged it in. This morning's selection was Emiliana Torrini. As the playful beat of "Jungle Drum" pulsed through my room, I danced into my closet. I decided that my Miss Sixty ink rinse stovepipe jeans with a fitted plaid top that flared out at the bottom would make a good first impression; they said I was classy and playful at the same time. I grabbed my Marc Jacobs blazer and slid some gold ballet flats on my feet. I was in such a hurry to get down the stairs that I almost tumbled down them. Mother was standing in the grand foyer with two Slimfast shakes dangling from her hands.
"You look nice today, Vera," she said loftily. Agnes came to a screeching stop next to me and grabbed one of the shakes, taking a sip.
"Agnes, your hair looks absurd," Mother commented, in the same tone of voice that she had just used to compliment me. Agnes just took another sip of her shake. I grabbed mine out of Mother's other hand and made to get out the door, but Mother's bony hand stopped me.
"Aren't you forgetting your keys, Vera?"
Oh. I wouldn't get too far without those, would I? I turned around to look for them in the kitchen, but Mother dangled them in front of my face. I reached up to grab them but she pulled them out of my reach.
"Remember: you're not to boast or brag about any of your possessions, and you are to come straight home after school. There's no telling what type of riffraff live on this reservation,"
I nodded, grabbed the keys and spun out the door, Agnes trailing behind me. The Cayenne was parked right in front of the house, much to my joy. I wasn't looking forward to tramping through wet grass to get to my carriage. It was a light gold and beyond gorgeous. I hit the clicker and jumped in, cranking the engine. Agnes slid in on the other side and slammed the door.
"Let's do this," she said with a devilish glint in her eyes.
"Sure," I said, taking a deep breath and throwing the car into drive. It snarled in response and shot down the gravel drive. Yes, this was good. It was very good. Agnes grabbed my iPod out of my bag and plugged it in, changing the song to "Hot Mess" by Cobra Starship. It was one of our guilty pleasures- as soon as I heard the beginning notes I began to feel more confident about the day.
The La Push Junior-Senior High School was right on the main drag, just like Daddy said. It was hard to miss, what with a giant gray sign announcing its name. I took a deep breath and pulled into the parking lot. My breath caught in my chest-the Cayenne was by far the nicest car in the lot, by a long shot. It was almost embarrassing; I've felt this feeling before. It's the uncomfortable, prickly feeling that excessive affluence that was caused by a situation in which you are the richest person in the room by several figures. I felt the prickles rising in my chest and sticking to my throat. Agnes squeezed my hand on the gearshift and looked at me with probing eyes.
"It's not going to be too bad, is it?" she asked.
"Honestly? I think it's going to be the worst we've ever experienced. I've never seen such…poverty," I said, and to my horror, I could feel the revulsion creeping into my tone. I've always tried to be as open minded and tolerant as I could be, but this…this was different. There was graffiti splashed on the brick walls and big chunks of pavement missing. As I parked, I began to fear for the safety of my beloved Cayenne. Thankfully, Porsche had a really good anti-theft system, so there wasn't too much cause for my worries. But still, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over me.
"Well, there's not much we can do about it now but work through it," Agnes said confidently, but I could see through the façade. After all, Agnes was only 14, just a baby, really. It was my job to take care of her, bolster her confidence up and raise her spirits. And I was doing a terrible job. I took a deep breath and squeezed her hand back.
"We always conquer stuff like this, Ags," I reassured her.
"Yeah, but this is the first time that Richie hasn't been here," she reminded me. She was right, Richie was always the one we looked up to. He was our leader and our guide, and now he was across the country. I steeled myself and took a deep breath.
"And we're gonna be just fine without him. It'll be hard, but we'll get through," I tried to hide the doubt and trepidation in my voice. Taking another deep, cleansing breath, I tugged the keys out of the ignition. I opened the door and stepped out on the damp concrete. A damp wind fluttered through the lot, raising chill bumps on my arms.
"If you say so," Agnes commented lightly. I could tell she didn't fully believe me. I grabbed my bag from the car and locked the doors twice-I was not going to take any chances. The campus was crowded with dark-skinned teens and middle schoolers-we, or at least I, would stick out like a sore thumb.
Faded signs pointed to the Main Office, my destination. It was there that my sister and I were to get our course schedules. As we approached the door, I stopped and dug my roller of Marc Jacobs Daisy out of my bag. There was really nothing like your favorite perfume to brighten any situation. I rubbed the tube over my wrists and dabbed it under my ears before handing it off to Agnes. She didn't need it though; she was already occupied with the newest Marc Jacobs fragrance, Lola. I tucked the roller back into my purse and pulled the door open. I could feel Agnes hovering behind me, exuding a cloud of cotton candied air.
A chubby Quileute woman who was organizing files was seated at the front desk. Her nametag designated her as N. Ateara. She looked up when she heard Agnes's kitten heels clicking on the scuffed linoleum. I could see a look of surprise register over her face, like she wasn't expecting us.
"Um, hi," I squeaked. "We're Vera and Agnes Rocheford." The latter came out like a question, and I cringed with embarrassment. So much for being confident.
"Oh, of course, girls. I've got your schedules right here," N. Ateara flipped through an extremely orderly file and gave my sister and I two sheets of paper "You know, I went to school with your father for a while, before he moved back east," she didn't give us a chance to respond before she barreled on. "He was always so nice. Now, Vera, was it?"
I nodded and squeaked an affirmation. If this is what my day was going to be like, squeaks for communication, I was screwed.
"You've got Mr. Durr for history first. He's over in building 11," she gestured to a low building made of gray brick. I couldn't see anything that designated it as building 11, and the more I looked around, I noticed that the buildings were all identical, without numbers. This would be harder than I expected; my old schools had all been like college campuses, with hall names emblazoned on arches.
"Once first period's over, you can get one of your new classmates to show you to your next class,"
"Yes ma'am," I replied. She looked over to Agnes and ran an appraising eye over her body.
"You look just like your daddy, young lady. Agnes, you've got first period in building 5 with Ms. Hatton; that's Intro to Marine Biology. Same thing that I said to your sister; one of your classmates will direct you to your next class."
"Of course," Agnes said.
"I'm sure you two will do just fine," N. Ateara said, giving us a warm smile. "You girls have a nice day, ok?"
Agnes and I made our way back out of the front office.
"Well, that's my first class over there," I pointed to where the receptionist showed me. The building was now teeming with students, pouring in and out of doors.
"And mine's over there," she said, pointing caddy-corner.
"How can you tell?" I asked, shocked. I couldn't see any numbers. Agnes revealed a map printed on the back of her schedule. Once I flipped mine over, I saw that I had the same thing.
"Well, that makes things infinitely easier," I said. "I wonder why she didn't tell us before?"
"Maybe she just forgot," Agnes replied.
"Ok, well, we should get to our respective classes," I said, fiddling with the clasps on my bag.
"Right, I guess I'll see you at lunch?"
"Yeah, text me." I said. I needed reassurance that her day was going well, or else I'd be a nervous wreck. I started the walk towards my first class, feeling horribly out of place. I was easily the whitest person on campus. Everywhere I turned, I couldn't find any signs of people with skin and hair even close to my shade. I could feel eyes on me and hear whispers of other kids. I straightened my shoulders and put a bit of a strut into my walk, trying to look like I owned this joint. I was rewarded with snickers and more whispers. Damn.
I came to a stop outside room 11-18, which had "Mr. Durr-Upper School History" labeled outside it. The door swung open without me touching it, as an absolutely giant man lumbered out. He had to be at least six-five, bulging with muscle and dripping of importance. I took this chance to slip inside without having to make an extremely awkward entrance. I scanned the rows of desks and sat down in the first empty one I found. Right as I was arranging my Kate Spade on the floor beside me, a large, warm hand tapped my shoulder.
"That's Jacob's seat," a low voice rumbled. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt the giant hand resting on my shoulder. Spinning around in my seat, I was shocked when I saw another huge, muscle bound kid sitting behind me. Were all the boys here like this?
"Oh, um…I guess I'll move then," I mumbled, making to get up from my seat. All of the sudden, another brown arm shot out in front of me.
"Stop it, Quil. Jacob's not here today," the speaker was a tall girl with shoulder length straight black hair. Her clothes weren't too horrible; they were a mix of American Eagle and Aeropostale.
"Like you'd know anything about it, Kim," Quil growled menacingly. I didn't like this situation at all. It was easily one of the most awkward situations I'd been in a while.
The girl named Kim snorted. "Save it, Quil. You know that Jared tells me everything."
This served only to piss Quil off even more. "Damn fool can't keep his fucking mouth shut". He began shaking a bit in his seat, and I scooted way up in mine, trying to get as far away from his as I could.
"Calm down, Quil. Just because Claire's too young to understand what you're telling her doesn't mean that the rest of us are," she shot back. At the mention of Claire, Quil calmed down noticeably.
"She understands plenty," he said plaintively, before going back to doodling on his desk.
This experience was entirely uncomfortable. I discreetly sniffed my wrist, willing the smell of my perfume to calm me.
"Don't worry about Quil," Kim said to me kindly. "He's really just a big baby," Quil grunted in response to this while Kim smiled sweetly.
"I'm Kim Williams" she introduced herself, extending her hand to shake. As I grasped it, I noticed a beautiful ring. It was made out of silver and looked like one of those never-ending knots that you see advertised. For the everlasting nature of love…that kind of stuff. "You must be one of the Rocheford girls,"
"How could you tell?" I said sarcastically.
Kim chuckled in response and said, "I've never seen you before and you smell like big city."
I had to laugh at that. "Yeah, I'm fresh off the east coast. I'm Vera,"
"Nice to meet you, Vera," Kim said amiably. "Don't you have a sister or something?"
"Yeah, Agnes. She's in ninth grade,"
"Those are interesting names," Kim commented.
I rolled my eyes and said, "They're family names. We're named after a bunch of old, dead relatives,"
Kim smiled and exclaimed, "Well, I think they're really cool and unique," She opened her mouth to say something else, but Mr. Durr stepped up to the podium to start class. He took roll, stumbling over my name. The entire class turned in my direction and I felt my cheeks heating. I quietly willed the blush away; I had never been one of those girls who blush constantly at every little thing. I was confident and in control. I repeated this mantra until the attention was diverted from me. Mr. Durr began handing out battered textbooks that had seen better days, along with a handout to go with them.
"That handout is your first homework assignment. I want you to define all the boldfaced terms in the first chapter for tomorrow," The class let out a collective groan at this; after all, first day homework was nearly taboo across the nation.
"C'mon, you guys are upper classmen. You've got to get used to a high volume of work-it's going to be even more next year. Better to start preparing you now instead of throwing you to the wolves later,"
At this, Quil let out a snuffly laugh and I wondered what was so funny about the metaphor. I saw Kim shoot him a warning look. What was that about, I wondered. Before I got a chance to muse more, the bell rang. Well, I say rang, but it really kind of just toned one flat note.
"Oooh, let me see your schedule!" Kim said excitedly. "I wonder if we have any classes together," I handed her my schedule and watched her eyes skim over it. One side of her lip glossed mouth turned up at the corner.
"Looks like all we have together is first and fourth," I had pre-calc fourth. Joy of joys. "But you've got second period with my boyfriend, Jared,"
I stood up and straightened my clothes. "Oh, that's awesome! I guess I'll see you in fourth." Kim laughed and we walked out of the classroom together.
"How about I walk you to Bowyer?" seeing my look of confusion, Kim clarified. "He's the English teacher. He's kind of weird,"
"I don't want you to have to go out of your way and be late for your next class," I protested.
"Don't worry, my class is right down the hall. I have Nursing Skills next,"
We strolled through the halls, and I once again felt the eyes drilling into my back. "You'd think they never saw anyone with blonde hair before," I said indignantly.
"It's not just that, " Kim explained. "Most everyone is pissed of about the big mansion on the cliff.
"Why?!" I said with shock. I didn't see anything wrong with it. It wasn't ugly or in the way of anything.
"It's just a lot bigger than everything else. Some people resent that. And your flashy car doesn't do much to help your reputation as a spoiled rich girl," Kim said.
I was aghast. I hadn't done anything to act like a spoiled rich girl. "Also, the elders don't like when we marry outside the tribe, which is exactly what your dad did. He left the reservation and got married to your mom, who is really really white,"
I couldn't believe this. Sure, Mother could be a bitch, but we had just arrived. It seemed people had formed their opinions of our family without even meeting us.
"Well that's really immature," I mumbled, put out. "We haven't done anything except show up in town,"
"Yeah, I know. I don't really think it's that big of a deal, but some guys are all about tribe pride and standards and blah blah blah," Kim explained.
"Guys like Quil?" I asked. His hostile behavior made a little more sense now.
Kim sighed and said, "Yeah. Guys like Quil." We had arrived at the door of what I assumed to be my English class. Kim opened the door and rushed into the arms of another insanely muscled boy. He was really, really tall and he had a tattoo of the design of Kim's ring on his bicep. The two clutched each other in the doorway, and I felt like I was intruding in someone's bedroom. The way they were looking at each other was so full of love and devotion, it made me feel awkward. I peered around the embracing couple to survey the classroom. It was filled with even more russet-skinned students. I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that I was, without a doubt, the whitest person in school. Even Agnes was darker than me.
"Vera!" Kim called, disentangling herself from her boyfriend. I turned my attention back to the happy couple.
"Vera, this is Jared. He's my…" she trailed off as he brushed his fingers along her face and smiled the sweetest smile I have ever seen at her. "He's my everything,"
If I weren't witnessing the extreme amount of adoration in both of their eyes, I would have vomited with the amount of cloying sweetness in the air. But this was real, very real, and it made me ache for something that I had never experienced.
Kim's smiling face swam back into view as I was snapped out of my reverie. "Oh, nice to meet you Jared," I said, extending my hand. It was immediately engulfed in his larger one. Jared's hand was massive and scorching hot. It took a lot of willpower not to draw back in surprise. I didn't want to offend him.
"Igualmente. El placer es mío," he said.
Kim jumped in and said, "He just came from Spanish. He does this for a while," she squeezed his hand and smiled up at him.
"Por supuesto, señor. Que tal?" I replied. I took Spanish back DC and was looking forward to starting back up.
Jared laughed good-naturedly and said, "I'm fine, Vera. And yourself?"
I liked him already. He seemed very easy to talk to and he had a casual air about him.
"I'm pretty ok," I answered. "It's kind of weird being the only white girl in sight,"
Jared chuckled at this and Kim giggled. "It's not too bad. I'm sure you'll get used to it pretty darn quick," he said. The warning bell sounded, and Kim jumped out of Jared's embrace.
"That's my cue," she said, turning to walk out the door. She didn't get too far, however, before Jared grabbed her arm and pulled her in for a kiss. I decided it would be in my best interest to sit down. I searched the classroom, not sure if there were assigned seats or not. I glanced up at the blackboard and saw that Mr. Bowyer wanted us to sit wherever we felt we would absorb the most knowledge. I liked this teacher already. I chose a seat in the middle of the classroom-not as far back as some of the slackers would sit, and not too close to the front where the super overachievers sit. A happy medium, if you will.
Jared plunked down in the seat next to me. He turned around to say something, but I beat him to the punch.
"Are you gonna tell me that this is Jacob's seat too?"
He looked taken aback, "No, I wasn't. What, did you meet Quil?" Now it was my turn to be surprised. How had he known about that?
"Yeah, in first period. He told me that I was sitting in Jacob's seat and got really pissed off, but Kim got him to calm down,"
Jared exhaled loudly. "Yep, that's Quil for ya. He gets a bit defensive about Jacob,"
This was confusing. Who the hell was Jacob and why was he so important? "Well, who's Jacob?" I asked.
"He's one of our best friends, but…he's probably not going to be in school for a while. At least, I don't think he will be. He might come back for the wedding,"
"Who's getting married?"
"Just some kids down in Forks that Jacob was close with. Well, he was close to the bride, not her fiancé. Those two were like mortal enemies. They hated each other. But the wedding's this weekend, so maybe he'll be back after that,"
"So he's gonna stop the wedding or something, like you see in movies?"
This elicited a rumbly laugh from Jared. "Maybe. It's hard to tell with Jacob,"
"So Quil's saving him seats even though he's not coming to school?" I still didn't understand that part.
"It's just Quil. He's really taking this hard. He doesn't like the bride or the groom and he hates the groom's family, so he's really pissed off and he doesn't understand why Jacob's all torn up about the wedding,"
I was about to ask Jared how he felt about the entire thing when the final bell rang, and Mr. Bowyer stepped to the front of the class.
"Students, I want you to know that you'll be challenged in my class. You'll be writing more essays than you ever have in your life, you'll read more than you ever have. Specifically, you'll read more nonfiction than you ever have in your life. You should know upfront that my class isn't easy. I'm not going to tolerate laziness or excuses, so get that through your skulls pronto. I guess it's time for me to take roll now, so let's get that nonsense out of the way," He grabbed a clipboard off his desk and flipped through a couple of pages on it. When he got to my name, he stopped and looked at me.
"I know your mother," he said simply. I must have made some weird noise of affirmation in response, because a wry smile appeared on his face and he said, "A woman with an extensive verbal lexicon. I like it,"
Lovely, just what I needed; a teacher to think I was an idiot on the first day of school. I fiddled with a tendril of hair and sunk lower in my seat.
"Now," Mr. Bowyer continued. "I'm going to pass out your Norton Readers," he gestured to a stack of tan colored books. The Norton will be your friend and your enemy. I expect you to treat it with care and respect, so I don't want to see you drawing in it," He handed a stack out to each row, and when mine got to me, I flipped through the pages, searching for any offending doodles. There was only one that stood out of the mass of random scribbles. It was a heart that had been crossed out angrily. I could still decipher the names inside; they said "Leah + Sam forever." Someone had scratched a giant X through it, and next to the heart, someone wrote "Sucks for you". It must have been a bitter break up, I thought. I felt bad for whoever Leah was. Breakups sucked, and were even worse when the entire school new about them.
"I'm passing out some index cards. On it, I want you to write the grades you have received in your last two high school English classes, your favorite author and a quote you think describes you," Mr. Bowyer said.
I grabbed an index card from the person in front of me, a boy with a pimply neck. Once I had mine, I passed the rest of the stack back and set to work writing my name in the most formal, intelligent looking writing I could muster. It was with pride that I listed my honors English class from last year and the A I had gotten in it. Hmmm, now for my favorite book. Les Miserables, obviously. And a quote-that one was somewhat difficult. I remembered one that I really liked from around the middle of the book. "Not being heard is no reason for silence". Yeah, I liked that one. I stood up and brought it to Mr. Bowyer's desk. I quickly set it down and scurried back to my desk-I didn't want to initiate contact. Looking over to Jared's desk, I saw that he put his quote as "Go big or go home". It was oddly fitting.
My next two classes passed much like the first two-I had to do the awkward introduction where you stand in front of the class in Spanish III, but the Pre-cal teacher was mercifully uninterested. She made us sit in alphabetical order, which made me nervous, because I was planning on sitting next to Kim. At least the material didn't seem like it would be too difficult. I took a semester of trig last year and it seemed like that would be a good portion of the course. When the bell rang, Ms. Cline made us wait for her dismissal before we could leave.
I hadn't gotten a text from Agnes all day, and I was beginning to worry. As I walked into the cafeteria, I saw that my worries were useless. Agnes was sitting at a table with a bunch of people, and she seemed to be holding court. I smiled to myself; at least she fit right in immediately. Kim and I walked to a table in the middle of the room that was populated by more large guys. I made a survey of the cafeteria; they were clearly the largest. I guess they must take anabolic steroids or something. I sat down on the other side of Jared, giving Quil a wide berth. It seemed Kim and I were the only girls at the table, which felt almost like a privilege. I took time to rearrange the books that I'd gotten in my first four classes and dug out my wallet to go buy lunch. Before I could stand up, however, Agnes appeared with a basket of chicken fingers.
"First day special: buy one get one free," she smiled at me. Her hair had lost some of its straightness, but it worked for her. The little curls were cute with her beehive.
"Thanks, Ags!" I exclaimed, surprised that she had brought them over to me.
"No problem, Veer," she said, still smiling. She looked expectantly at me and cleared her throat. I caught her drift-I should have introduced her to my friends already. Well, sort of friends, more like acquaintances.
"Agnes, this is Kim, Jared and Quil, and…I'm sorry, I don't know the rest of your names," I said apologetically to the other members of the table.
"No problem," said the skinniest one of the bunch. "I'm Embry Call, and this is Paul,"
"Nice to meet you," I said and was immediately echoed by Agnes.
"I'm Vera Rocheford, and this is my sister, Agnes," I said, introducing us. "We just moved here. Agnes is in ninth grade,"
Agnes tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear, "I need to go back to my own table. My friends are waving me over,"
Not going to lie, I was a bit jealous of her for already having friends. "Sure, okay. Just remember to meet me by the car after school ends,"
"Of course," Agnes replied, and then turned to go back to her table. I began to pick at my chicken fingers, not really tasting them.
"So you drive the Porsche," said Embry. It wasn't really a question; it was more of a statement. At the word Porsche, all the guys at the table suddenly stopped talking and watched for my response.
"Um, yeah. It's my dad's old car," I answered, uncomfortably. I really didn't want to talk about the car, or draw any more attention to the fact that my family probably had more money than all of theirs put together.
"Old car?" Embry exclaimed. "It's an '08! It's practically new!"
"I really don't know much about it," I said, trying to get out of the conversation.
"Is it standard or automatic?"
"Automatic? I don't have to shift or anything," I was out of my league here; I wasn't too good with cars.
"Yeah, that's automatic," Embry informed me with a smile. "Jake would love it," he said to no one in particular.
The table lapsed into awkward silence at the mention of Jacob. It must be a really sore subject, I thought. I suddenly felt very out of place at the table. It was like I was an intruder. Thankfully, I didn't have to suffer too long; the bell rang. I jumped up and grabbed my Kate Spade, checking it for any damage.
"Hey Vera, you and Embry have the same 5th period," Kim said, breaking the somber silence. "You both have Anatomy & Physiology with Mrs. Walker next,"
"Oh, cool. Is that a weighted course?" I asked. I needed as many weighted courses as I could get-they would be the ones that were crucial to my GPA surviving my stint in this plebian school.
"Um, it's honors, if that's what you mean," Embry explained. I nodded my affirmation. I was about to ask about the rest of their classes when a giant thunderclap quite literally stole my thunder.
"Oh, damn," I whined. "Does it ever stop raining?"
The table seemed to find this beyond hilarious. Their laughter was raucous and loud, drawing attention to us. I felt my ears grow red and I tried to slide down in my seat, not that that would do any good, I still stuck out like a sore thumb.
Kim stopped giggling to pat my arm. "No, it doesn't. We're in the rainiest part of the US," Well damn, that sucked.
"Didn't you guys know that when you moved here?" Paul asked.
"No, that information wasn't shared with me," I said, sulking.
"Well, now you know," he said.
"Yeah, now I know," the bell sounded and the student body shifted, streaming out the doors and into the rain. I stood up and followed the herd.
The final bell rang at 2:55, and I've never been so relieved to hear that sound. Though I met nice people, starting over was exhausting. Kim and Jared walked me out to my car, which had a cloud of teenagers standing around it reverently. Great, exactly what I needed-people staring at the Cayenne and starting rumors. As I pushed through the throng, I noticed that Embry was guarding my baby. I felt a little pull in my stomach-Embry was hot and he was standing at my car, waiting for me. Sure, it was probably because he had taken such an interest in the Cayenne at lunch, but the attention was nice.
"Stand back, stand back!" Embry shouted, forcing the student body to move. "The owner approaches!" I felt every eye on me as I took the keys out of my bag and unlocked the Cayenne.
"Thanks for keeping her safe, Embry," I said. Ok, I was flirting a little bit-but not too much, I thought. I didn't want to seem desperate. After all, I had always made fun of those girls who base their entire existence on their social status and boyfriends. That wasn't me, at all. The only person you can trust is yourself, that was always my motto. Agnes popped up behind my shoulder, as silent as always. I smiled at her and cocked my head towards the car.
I slipped into the driver's seat and cranked the engine, reveling in the low purr of the high-powered machinery. Agnes gracefully slid into the passenger seat and shut the door. She glanced over at me, and smiled.
"So, Embry, huh?"
I laughed and smacked her arm playfully before peeling out of the parking lot.
"You wish, sister dearest"