Author's Note: Because I don't think Paul is as angry as everybody portrays him as. Please review and ask questions if you have them because i'll answer every single one of them. I'm hoping to avoid cliches with this, but tell me if you spot one and i'll have the decency to look ashamed. Also note that this chapter has been edited with the help of my new beta - entre la sombra y el alma, who has been a huge help when it comes to my mishaps.
Punk Spirit by Wave Machines
It could be assumed that somebody with a name so obscure and, of all things considered, tacky, would stand out like a sore thumb, particularly if this someone was named after a fruit. Yet the girl with the unfortunate name of Plum, despite her quirks and funny glasses, did nothing of the sort. In fact, she was a quiet girl, who at times spoke to herself out of sheer loneliness rather than insanity, and despite the positive sides of her, her peers were unable to see past the girl who smelled books and tucked paintbrushes behind her ear. Plum could be found with smudges of paint on her hands as well as all over her clothes, to her mother's dismay, and could be seen counting the number of steps it took her to walk home. Despite her unusualness, Plum could be considered kind and sincere, with her heart in the right place, as described by her parents. She didn't do too well as far a schoolwork was concerned and her parents had never seen her invite a friend over or leave the house to do anything but go for hikes by herself. At times, Plum insisted she liked her own company, but at other times she fell quiet and imagined what it would be like to have a group of friends to laugh with or just one to confide in.
LaPush was a sleepy seaside town where windows wept condensation in the morning and winds howled at night. Plum caught her spark and passion for art from her father who had restlessly looked for a muse until he stumbled on the town of LaPush with its picturesque overcast charm and tightly bound citizens, the latter of which happened to be the root of Plum's problem. The town was a family and Plum was an unusual outsider who caused apprehension among the members. She was different to them and it made them feel uneasy.
It was the type of Saturday morning that caused Plum to wear two paint-spotted jumpers and tights over her wobbly knees. She left a note for her parents in her loopy writing before slinging a backpack over her shoulder and closed the door with a small click behind her. She didn't bother to lock it. Crime tended to be low in such a town as this.
The trees cast flimsy flickering shadows in the breath of the morning sun and Plum walked confidently over the soil and paused every so often to bend down and admire an ant mound or tracks of an unidentifiable animal. She had such a clumsy walk usually. She tripped and wobbled when she walked down the school's hallway, but while ascending mountains and treading on uneven ground her steps were wide and poised.
She thought of school as she leaned on a tree and pondered at the sky. When she had arrived in LaPush two years ago, she had tried to break into a group like her mother had suggested, but the response to her was isolation and solitude.
Lately many of the boys had skipped school for a few weeks and she wondered if they were forming a secret organization. Plum and her odd ideas.
Interestingly, the girl with glasses too thick, too big and too orange for her pale face, untied shoelaces and an idiosyncratic demeanor said out loud, "How strange."
The latest one to disappear was a furious looking boy named Paul she had always regarded as someone too troubled and angry for his own good. Although she liked the way he had pointed out that her shoelaces were untied when she was first assigned to sit next to him in Geography. It was nice of him.
As the sun grew, she ambled on, growing tired of the increased steepness of the dense mountainside, and unable to go on much farther, Plum found herself in a lonely opening overgrown with native flowers, shrubs and weeds. She sat on the wet grass, not caring about the damp spot on the back of her skirt and took off one of her jackets before she started to draw. She drew the flowers at first, but she soon became bored of their limp and feeble structure, so she tried to draw the birds, but they came and went to quickly. She tried bugs, but they were small enough to get away unnoticed. Plum, resigned, flipped the page over and hesitated, pencil in hand.
She had the strange feeling of being watched, yet rather than looking around herself with apprehension and fear, Plum looked up eagerly for the company. Maybe they'd let her draw them.
Her eyes met with something that looked like a wolf, but it was much larger. It stood on four legs, partially hidden in the shadows casted by trees. It looked at her in surprise at first then uneasiness, yet also a sense of curiosity, and Plum could not help but think that the creature possessed rather human-like characteristics. Like the cautious and graceful way it walked for such a large creature, or it could have been the expression held in its face.
"Hello," Plum said, "I'm Plum. It's a bit of an odd name, or so everyone tells me."
The creature merely looked at her with a sense of longing. She thought that it might even crave friendship as much as she did. She crossed her legs slowly and placed her sketchpad on her knees before speaking again.
"Do you mind if I draw you?" She spoke fondly to the animal, as if it were a confidant or someone who would understand her, rather than what it was, – an animal. "I'm not terribly great, but you'd really help me out if you came over here a little."
The creature hesitated uneasily at the edges of the opening, only taking a few tentative steps towards her. To the animal's surprise the girl simply smiled and spoke, "It's okay, you wont hurt me," Rather than "it's okay, I wont hurt you" – which was what the animal expected. With the confidence of Plum's assurance, the animal came close, close enough for Plum to feel its hot breath and smell its wild scent of the forest.
Even sitting, the creature was enormous. It had broad shoulders and such a wide frame, Plum had to look up towards the sky in between strokes of her pencil. The animal sat tensely, too tensely, and too tame for something so wild and free, Plum noted internally as the animal sat still for her, gazing into her eyes the entire time. So human-like, she thought again while outlining the curve of the wet nose.
"You're different," she spoke, still looking down on her drawing. "From any normal animal, that is."
She paused as the creature shifted before continuing. "Not that I mind really. I don't mind the company, but I think everybody thinks I do and that's why they don't talk to me. Maybe that or because they don't like me. I wonder why that is. I wish I could say something to them sometimes, but my throat closes up and I can't bring myself to say, "I want to join in" or anything like that. Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me, and I often find myself saying, yes, there is. I'm different, I know that, but I like that I'm different. I just wish they would too."
Plum spoke a lot, but it could not be considered blubbering or spilling out her feelings, as she spoke in short sentences and let the words drag out. She often spent a minute too absorbed in her art to finish a sentence, which annoyed the impatient creature, yet it sat there all the same. While Plum was absorbed in her art, the creature was absorbed in her.
It was noon by the time Plum finished. She dropped her head back and stretched before noticing that the animal had grown more relaxed as the time had passed. She let out a small smile before speaking. "I've finished, and not to float my own boat, but I do believe that this is the best I have ever drawn."
She flipped the book around to show the creature her work, despite a small part of her brain mentioning that animals have no sense of understanding for silly things such as drawings. Yet the creature bent his head down to look at its portrait, and it looked for a very long time at the shaded animal on the paper, utterly fascinated by the depth and that girl had portrayed him as – beautiful, something he had ever thought he could ever be before.
"What do you think?" she asked quietly. "You really are quite a handsome creature."
The animal watched her as she got up and brushed off her backside, not moving an inch. She gave him a funny grin and he noticed how her glasses were lopsided and skirt was wonky and shoelaces untied. He gawked at her eyes, which were her most lovely feature, wide-eyed and yellow in colour but hidden behind the large spectacles and blonde fringe. He continued to look at her as she contemplated the sky for the time, rather than the loose watch on her left wrist like a normal person would.
She could see into the creature's eyes now as he sat down and she stood up. They were a surprising brown and almost human in shape. Not like an animal at all, she thought.
"My parents are most likely worried. They always are." She spoke sadly, the creature noticed. "I should probably go, even though I don't want to."
She softly and slowly touched the fur of the animal's face, unsurprised that it did not flinch, growl, and back away. It bent its head into her palm and finally closed its eyes, as though it was having a rather pleasant dream. Soon she did have to go, and so she did, leaving sadly with her head down, watching the earth the entire way home, rather than noticing the animal lingering in the background to assure itself of her returning home. Safely.