Just One Month
Chapter 1: Now I'm On My Own Side

"The walls start breathing
My mind's unweaving
Maybe it's best you leave me alone.
A weight is lifted
On this evening
I give the final blow.
When darkness turns to light,
It ends tonight."
-It Ends Tonight The All American Rejects

Bella's Freshman Year, 2009

I smiled as I walked down the halls of my high school, book bag in one hand, a paper in the other. My classmates rushed past me, in a hurry to get to their next class, but I took my time. After all, I had lunch next, it's not like I needed a tardy pass for that.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, my eyes still focused on the paper in my hands. Or rather, what the paper in my hands said.

100. A+ Great job, Bella, very well written! GHP worthy!

I stopped and hugged the essay to my chest, squealing a little inside my head. People stopped to look at me, but for once I couldn't care less.

GHP. She thought I was GHP worthy!

GHP stood for Governor's Honors Program. Each year, every high school teacher in the state selected a student that they thought was best fit for the program. They sent in a transcript, samples of essays, and a personal letter of recommendation to the board of education, who then looked over all the applications and chose a thousand that they thought were the best.

The applicants went through tests and interviews until only 649 remained. They were sent to the Tyndall University of New York for a month over the summer, to experience what college would feel like and to deepen their understanding of whatever subject they were nominated for.

And Ms. Davis thought I was good enough!

Of course, I should have known something bad was bound to happen to me. That oh so very "bad thing" turned out to come in the form of an upperclassman walking in the opposite direction as I was, swinging a book bag in their hands.

And naturally, that book bag sailed straight into my stomach.

I fell to my knees with a thunk, eyes watering, raising my hands to cover my mouth as the same violent hacking and coughing I was so used to started up again. The upperclassman crouched down to see if I was okay, and I waved her away even as sticky wetness began to plaster across my palm.

My face was red in embarrassment as the first few tears trickled down my cheeks and a crowd gathered in a circle around me to see what was going on.

I felt so corralled and suffocated. My throat started to burn and I got to my feet shakily. Pushing my way through the crowd, I dashed away from my classmates, a hand still covering my mouth.

Finally reaching an un-used class room, I slid down the wall and pulled my hands away.

Blood covered both of them, and I started crying all over again when I realized that the blood had also found its way to my essay, and now covered up the praise Ms. Davis had given me.

It seemed that my Hemoglophagia had gotten the better of me once again.

Emmett's Sophomore Year, 2009

I paced back and forth on the sidelines anxiously, while my team mates patted me on the back and offered me encouragement. I scowled, running my hands through the sweaty hair at my temples.

It was halftime during the final game of the season, Homecoming, and we were loosing to our biggest rivals, ten to seven. This was my first year playing on the field, as a freshman I had been a bench-warmer. I played running back for my school, the North Grove High Vampires, and so far was one of the star players.

I got a lot of recognition from my team-mates, and I knew that they were all surprised to see me so uptight like this.

I was always the funny one to them. The rodeo-clown, if you will. It was incredibly rare for me to be tense like I was, but I couldn't help it!

Our biggest- and only- rivals were the La Push Wolves, and I was finally beginning to see why.

These guys were nasty. They talked shit, made dirty plays, and hit below the belt. And their son-of-a-bitch line backer was one of the worst of them. Just my luck he was tailing me, right?

"Yo Swan!" the team captain, Joey, boomed at me. "Get over here."

I walked over to him and plopped down next to him on the bench, the locker room smell of sweat, testosterone and tension surrounding me like a humid blanket.

"Yeah McCarty?" I asked him, watching as he poured the ice from the bottom of his water bottle into his mouth.

He crunched down on one of the cubes and spit part of it out into the grass. "What's screwing you up, man?" he asked me seriously.

I sighed and rubbed at my dirty face. "I dunno, Joey."

Joey glared at me and spit another piece of ice out. "Quit trying to make your balls seem bigger than they are and just answer me truthfully, Emmett. What's messing with you?"

I snorted and scooped my helmet up from under the bench. "It's their line-backer. He keeps talking shit and it's distracting me, I just wanna squish his fat head in, man. It's throwing me off."

He raised an eyebrow and said, "You mean number 27?"

I nodded and Joey grinned at me roguishly. "Dude, that's Jacob Black, he's the only freshie on the Wolves team, and he's about five minutes older than your younger sister."

I blinked. "Which one? Bella or Nessie?"

"Uh... Nessie's youngest, right?"

I scowled and nodded, just as halftime ended. "Yep."

"Then he's only a little older than Nessie. You can handle this kid, Swan. Whatever he's been saying has probably been drilled into his head by Sam Uley."

I slid the helmet on and glared in the opposing team's direction. "That bastard! And you said I was trying to make my dick look bigger, he's barely older than my baby sister!"

Joey stood up as well and led the way back onto the field. "So, ya' know what you've gotta do, Swan?" he asked.

"Like hell I do," I growled. "Black is going down."

Joey slammed me on the back as we took our positions. "'Atta boy."

Nessie's Freshman Year, 2009

"Renesme, have you finished problem number one?"

I jumped a little in my seat when Ms. Johnson called my name, then blushed sheepishly, realizing that she had caught me spacing out in her class, again. But I couldn't help it! It was Chemistry, and my brain didn't like seeing math and science together!

And no, I hadn't done problem number one, because I couldn't figure out problem number one.

"Um," I said, stuttering, "I- I tried problem number one, but-"

"Good," she said, glaring at me, "Then please go write the answer on the board."

I stood up, trembling, hoping that I could just figure the problem out on the board and sit back down. As I past Tara Cates's seat, she whispered out of the corner of her mouth to me, "Nessie, it's 3.09."

I smiled at her and stood at the board, then wrote down the number and turned to go back to my seat.

"Could you please work through the problem on the board, Renesme."

I paled and nodded. "Um, Ms. Johnson, I had a little trouble with this one-"

"Now, Renesme," she barked, glaring at me.

"D-do you think I could go get my paper?" I squeaked, aware that most of the class was whispering about me.

"Hurry," she said.

I scurried over to my seat and shuffled through my binder, looking for the paper.

"Uh uh, no," Ms. Johnson barked.

I looked up, confused, and saw that Tara had tried to slide her paper over to me discreetly. I blushed and sat down, whispering a quick "thanks, sorry" to Tara. The class started whispering again and tears of frustration welled up in my eyes.

"Renesme, go back up to the board and work the problem out," Ms. Johnson said sternly.

I balked and said, "But Ms. Johnson, I've been trying to tell you, I was having trouble with the problems and-"

"Then I'll work through them with you on the board," she interrupted.

I glanced around the room and saw my classmates sneering at me. "I- I'd really rather not."

"Now, Renesme."

I got back up shakily and walked to the board again, fighting back tears as I went. When I put the Expo marker to the dry erase board, my hand trembled and continued to do so as Ms. Johnson guided me through the problem.

I couldn't help but feel that the way she did it deliberately gave people the opportunity to make fun of me.

She finally let me sit down and I saw Tara give me a pitying glance as I took my seat. I was blinking back tears for the rest of the class.

Alice's Freshman Year, 2009

I walked down the hallway, the heels on my ankle booties clacking against the floor, and stopped in front of my locker. I took a moment to admire my manicure before spinning the dial, I had done my nails just last night, they were navy blue with sparkling silver bows on them.

I hung my shoulder bag on a hook and started stashing my books, trying to tune out the whispers coming from down the hallway.

"Is that her, Morgan?"

"Yeah, that's her, that's Alice Brandon."

"Oh my gosh! She's the one who-"

"Ssh, Natalie, she'll hear you!"

I snorted, slipping my French book into my bag. As if they cared if I heard or not.

"God, Morgan, look at her outfit!"

"What was she thinking? This is La Push, not the city!"

"She's such a tease. Dresses like that but doesn't have th guts to bang a guy, puh-lease."

I slammed the door of my locker shut, not caring when a tell-tale clatter signaled that something had fallen off of it.

Those girls would never understand, would they?

Jasper's Sophomore Year, 2009

"You can do it, Jazz," Rose hissed at me as we entered the psychiatrist's office. "He's a shrink, he won't think it's weird at all."

"I'm a schizo, Rose," I said monotonously, "It would be weird if he didn't find it weird."

She turned and glared at me, stopping us in the hallway. Our parents were waiting in the lobby, and I knew that a probably eccentric doctor who wanted nothing more than my parents' money was sitting behind the door to my left.

"Quit doubting yourself, Jazz. You can't help it. Tons of people hear voices, and besides, they aren't as bad as they used to be, right?"

"Then how come I've never met another person like me?" I asked her. "And no, it's not as bad, but it isn't exactly a good time when someone comes up to you and asks 'who are you today, crazy boy? Jasper, General TJ Jackson, or Bronco?'"

Rose turned to me suddenly with a dangerous look in her eyes. "Who asked you that?"

I sighed. "I think the better question is, who hasn't?"

She put a comforting hand on my forearm. "Everything will get better, Jazz, I promise."

Edward's Freshman Year, 2009

"Hey!" I yelled, banging my fists on the door of the locker, "Let me out!"

I heard laughter from outside and felt my blood boil. "We'll let you out, Cullen, just as soon as you learn how to run!"

There was more laughter, and everything faded into quiet as people headed to their classes.

I slammed my hands on the door again, and sank down into a sitting position, cramped in the small, dark space.

How was it my fault I had tripped during the national track meet? How was it my fault that our rival high school brought home the gold?

Weren't my peers supposed to be supportive of me?

It was in that locker that I made my decision. It was in that dark, stinky, cramped space that I was filled with determination.

I would find a way out. So help me God, I was going to get away!