Author's Note: Well, this is my first attempt at writing first person. It's planned to be Bellice, in a HP/Twilight AU where Renee was a veela immigrant, and Bella attended the Salem Witches' Institute. Hopefully, Bella is actually likeable in this adaptation. Contains a few OCs in minor roles, such as teachers, but mostly canon characters.
Chapter One: What I've Left Behind
Flames roared green as I withdrew my hand from the pitcher. My second pinch of floo powder, since I'd already wasted the first trying to work up the courage to leave. Leaving Salem was always the hardest part, and now I was leaving it for good. I'd just graduated, you see, and in the meantime my mother had found her mate. Which meant that if I went to live with her, I would be living by myself, with the pair of them leaving their bedroom only for (shared) bathroom breaks. I was happy for her, but if I had a choice between dealing with that and taking a holiday to visit my dad... it wasn't really much of a choice. Still, I couldn't help being apprehensive about staying there.
It wasn't really Charlie's —I mean, my dad's— fault, but more a matter of geography. Small towns aren't good for veela. Not enough places to get away from admirers, and everybody knows Billy-Bob wants you in the sack, especially when you have a strong aura like mine. I'm actually quite plain, but because my mother was a demonic bird-entity, I tend to involuntarily rape peoples' brains until they think I'm pretty. It's really quite easy to learn to loathe yourself, if you have a conscience.
I turned away from the fire, catching the eye of my best friend, Emma, who shot me a worried look, fiddling with her long blonde braid. Probably wondering what's taking me so long.
"Bella, if it's too hard, you know my dad would let you stay a couple of weeks," she said, gently taking my hand. Really, this girl was a godsend. Met her in my second year and never really looked back. 'Sickeningly inseparable', I believe my transfiguration teacher had called us. I sighed.
"No, I can't do that to him… mom told me how much he misses me since last year's visit. It wouldn't be fair to him, but… urgh."
I twitched as I felt Emma's cool hands encircle my waist, before relaxing against her shoulder. "But what?" she pressed.
"It's… it's nothing," I hastily sandbagged, pushing my true feelings on the matter away into the darkest recesses of my mind. "I'll floo you tomorrow, okay? I think my dad's place is still connected…"
She gave me a watery smile as the clocktower of Salem Witches' Institute began to toll, and I gave her a comforting squeeze in return, before letting her go. The fire having burned through the floo I'd supplied, I reached for the pitcher again. I felt bad for wasting school resources like that, but third time's the charm, right? A roar of expanding air, and the floo portal opened once more. Fire harmlessly licked my worn black shoes as I said the words, thinking of Charlie's house.
"Charlie Swan's residence, number three, Cedar Avenue."
I saw stars, my head swirling dizzyingly as the pain finally registered. My head hurt like hell, and I could already feel it swelling. Did the floo vortex smack me on purpose, or was there something in the way? The fire at my feet petered out, but I caught a glimpse of cramped brickwork and wooden boards. Oh, so that was the problem then. I heard footsteps nearby, and hastily pulled out my vinewood wand, whispering 'Avifors' and pointing it at the barrier. Light cascaded in as the boards, now crows, took flight and my father let out an explosive curse.
"Bells? That you?" he said, as I stared at his drawn gun, not sure what to say. He was blushing, his pistol shaking in his grip. Oh god, why am I so messed up? I clamped down hard on my natural allure, biting my tongue so that the pain overrode my natural inclination to invoke lust.
"U-um… hi, Dad," I said quietly, giving him a weak little wave. Immediately, the safety was on, and he was moving closer to push the electric fire out of the way. I blinked, my head throbbing, as I realised that I was covered with soot from the old fireplace, muttering a hasty cleaning charm as I clambered out.
"Thought you'd give me a call when your flight was in… damn, Bella—" he cut off as one of the crows let out a harsh clicking sound, pecking insistently at the window. A smile made its way to my face as I reached out, allowing it to hop on. Birds tend to love us… I think it might be a flock thing, one overgrown bird recognising another.
"I'm sorry… I didn't want you to have to ferry me around, dad. I mean, what were the odds of you getting an electric fireplace? I should've been more careful," I said, rubbing my bump. Awkward silence followed, until he finally clasped my shoulder, his eyes crinkling at the edges. I felt a sharp ache as it finally broke through just how much this man had missed me. Damn it, dad… why didn't you say anything?
"Good to have you back, Bells."
I impulsively drew closer, the remaining crows scattering, laughingly throwing my arms around his waist. He stiffened, but hesitantly hugged me back. And somehow, I knew that living in Forks with him might not be so bad after all.
Forget what I said. Have I ever mentioned how much it sucks to be under the age of majority in the muggle world? Well, it does. I'm somehow trusted to teleport across the state without leaving half my spleen behind, but the moment I even think about touching vodka, everybody loses their mind. That, and I'm apparently meant to go to a muggle school for the duration. I don't even know how that's meant to work, because it just seemed to be a disaster in the making. There was a reason I'd gone to an all girls school, and even then I wasn't entirely safe from unwanted advances.
I had no idea what to expect, as I unpacked my shrunken storage trunk in the cramped spare bedroom. I liked that it was small, though. It was cozy, and if I had to change, the window was wide enough that I think I could probably fit through. Luckily, I didn't really change into a weird bird demon at the drop of a hat anymore, though fifth year was crazy for that. One wrong word to me and 'poof', flames and feathers everywhere. Oh-three was an expensive year for clothes shopping.
I'd have to buy some books, I realised then. Lots of books. While I'd grown up with muggles, I'd jumped ship at the end of elementary school, which meant a lot of missed classes. I'd tried to keep up with summer classes for a while, but after my aura developed, that plan went horribly downhill. So I'd probably come across as terminally retarded, if I even passed an entry exam. Still, I maybe had time to make up some lost ground over the summer. My eyes flicked to the empty shelves on the far side of the bed, grinning to myself. Yes, those will do nicely.
A crack of thunder, and the rain hammering on the window got incrementally louder. Yup, looks like outside activities are on a permanent hiatus. It might come as a surprise, but there's nothing sadder looking than a soggy veela. As creatures of fire, it actually suppresses our powers something fierce, not to mention it's extremely unpleasant. I mean, you can kind of work around it, but it's harder than working without the water, if you catch my drift. I suppose I had an easier time of it than a pureblood veela, with wand magic to fall back on, to my mother's eternal envy, but back in Phoenix it barely ever rained like this. At least there's no risk of sunburn, I guess. Emma and I had a mutual envy thing going on with that. Where she managed a gorgeous golden tan just by walking around, my skin oscillated violently between milkbottle and lobster, depending on the weather. Apparently I managed to make it work, but that's probably the aura clogging up peoples' brains.
"Dinner, Bells?" My dad called up, interrupting my zen consideration of shelving units, and I felt my face flush. It's not like anyone could see me, but I'm a little weird like that, and it felt like I'd been caught dancing in the nude or something.
"I'll be down in a sec!" I called, thanking the student gods as I murmured 'pack', the half-assed packing charm haphazardly causing clothes to fly into my closet. I wasn't particularly concerned for now. The real anxiety would come later, when I'd have to dress up for muggles who weren't in the know.
Dinner was, unfortunately, a dreary affair of pizza and oven fries. Now, don't get me wrong, I like pizza as much as the next girl, but shouldn't a guy of my dad's age be able to cook at least a little? I sighed, knowing that my french grandparents would be spinning furiously in their graves for the death of cuisine, but quickly devoured the offered food. It really wasn't bad, and I thanked my dad between bites. Dad was awkwardly quiet for most of the meal, watching the television out of the corner of his eye, and I felt yet another pang of sympathy for my father. Back when I first met Emma, I'd been alone for so long that I barely knew how to talk to people anymore. I still didn't, to tell the truth, so might have panicked just a little when he tried to talk shop with me.
"Hey, dad, would it be okay if we picked up some textbooks in Port Angeles this week? I, uhm… I sort of have a lot to catch up on this summer," I said quietly, as I dried the dishes.
He raised an eyebrow at that, giving me an appraising look. "What'd they teach you at that school of yours? The bird thing?"
I waggled my fingers menacingly. Fear my powers of ornithomancy, fool! "Yeah, the bird thing and plenty more. I'm licensed to apparate and everything, but they weren't too hot on math, and I don't think I'm allowed to mention the goblins in American history class."
He gave me a minute frown, still obviously paying attention to the game to some degree. "Guess it's complicated, huh... apparting is that thing where you teleport, right? Ren— your mother told me, once," he said haltingly. My eyes flicked to the pictures on the mantle, to the pictures of Renee that still lingered, and I hurriedly turned back to the dishes.
"Yeah. It's apparating though. Do I really have to do this? Can't you just say I'm being homeschooled here?" I pressed. He turned to me, muting the football for a moment, and I knew then that he was truly serious.
"Look Bells, I don't know what weirdness people put up with in Phoenix, and I don't rightly care. You're my daughter, and it'd be suspicious as all hell if I'm in work and you're being 'schooled' at home," he huffed quietly, his eyes softening. "I'll help you catch up though, if I can, and maybe a few of the kids around here'd be willing to lend a hand."
He was right, damn him. And it would be an excellent opportunity to learn something new, even if it meant putting up with the constant harassment from boys. That makes me sound horrible, since it's not really their fault, but it didn't make their reactions any easier to deal with. Are girls' clubs even a thing? Maybe I could suggest something, once the problem was obvious…
"No boys, please…" I murmured, as I finished up the washing. I heard a quiet 'oh', and turned just in time to catch my dad's eyes skitter back to the television. My aura, the natural field that surrounds an adult veela, was raging around me, and I dug my nails into the palm of my hand, splashing a little water from the sink over my face. I'd rather eat linoleum than be wet, and my nose closed up like I had a bad cold almost immediately, but I'd put up with it for his sake.
"That's fine, Bells," he replied. More than fine, I bet, given the way you used to glare at Jake. "Just… try to keep it down in the house," he continued quietly, and I nodded, giving a pained smile. Some days it feels like I'll burst if I don't let it out, so maybe I could just sneak off at night or something, and play in the woods. Remembering the large window in my room, an evil plan was hatched. Yes, that would do nicely.
"Wait, so you're going to muggle school now?" Emma babbled excitedly, sitting crosslegged on her family's carpet, while I played a rousing game of 'got your head' with America's floo network. At least dad was nice enough to give me a cushion for my knees.
"Yup. I have no idea if I'm going to even pass the entry exam, though. I haven't studied muggle school topics full-time since… what… sixth grade?"
Emma smiled, her green eyes glimmering prettily. "I'm happy for you. There must be so much more to learn... find out how magnets work for me, would you?" I laughed, blowing a raspberry at her.
Emma was pureblood, which meant that she'd learnt most of her muggle lingo from half-remembered bits of information I occasionally came out with, since her parents were too busy with her mother's Ministry of Whispers job for the most part. The magnet thing was an old joke of ours, after I'd tried in earnest to explain them in… third year? Needless to say, my fumbling and incomplete explanation of electromagnetism was met with open mockery.
"Sure thing, Em. You get into the frost league this year?"
She nodded brightly, "I'll be off to Canada in september. They said I aced the tryouts!"
I let out an embarrassingly high squeal of excitement, and tumbled through the floo gate to hug her silly, falling back on the carpet with me on top, and we playfully wrestled for a moment. It probably would have looked risque to someone who didn't really know us, but believe me, I had no plans to make moves on my best friend. We were just very… cuddly, for lack of a better word. I think it's because Renee was never a physical person, so I went elsewhere to settle my cuddle deficit. I won, of course, and soon she was red in the face as I mercilessly tickled her ribs.
"Ha, ha… Bella, stoooooop," she whined, batting my hands away, and finally I rolled off to the side. "It's awesome though, right?" she said after a moment, giving my hand a squeeze. I let out a soft sigh, watching her parents' chandelier swing gently above us.
"Yeah, it's gonna be great."
Forks is a weird little town. Rich, I know, coming from the bird-demon witch, but hear me out. I don't quite know what it is about the place, but it has this sort of 'pull' that I can feel when I'm outside. It's like some weird, disused, saurian part of my brain is trying to say that this is an ideal site to hatch my eggs, if that even makes any sense. And the people are strange, too. Not exactly Innsmouth strange, but there's a certain look that seems to be going around all the same. Take the lady I met in the grocery store the second night I was back...
I breezed in at around eight PM, intent on grabbing some fresh, unsalted vegetables for the pantry, and at first everything was fine. Quiet as the grave, and the lights had a nasty habit of flickering whenever I was near, but that can't really be helped. Wand magicians can put down their wand, but I can't exactly tear out the greek fire grafted to my soul, so it's just another weird little thing about the veela lifestyle. Wearing rubber gloves to answer a mobile phone gets old very fast, but while I had apparently reached a state of enlightenment from contemplating the potatoes, a woman caught my eye.
I don't even know why it happened, but she was definitely one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen, and that included my mother's flock. If not for the lack of aura, I'd say she was some sort of siren herself. Inhumanly smooth skin, gorgeous wavy brown hair, and bright yellow eyes that just screamed 'magical creature blood'. She must've noticed me staring, because she walked over, a motherly smile crossing her face. I froze up, and momentarily contemplated leaping behind the potato bags.
"I don't believe I've seen you around these parts before. Might you be Charlie Swan's daughter?" She said, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear. I swallowed, watching the motion awkwardly.
"B-Bella, yes. I mean, my name's Isabella Swan, ma'am," I blurted, holding out my hand. I figure my face must have been red as a tomato. I really, really needed to get out more, and talk to people who weren't family.
"Esme Cullen," she returned, taking my hand gracefully. My nerves jangled, her skin clammy and cold against mine. I caught a vague hint of a minty sort of smell under her perfume, and combined with the other features, I was almost certain this woman was some sort of magical half-blood. "Carlisle, my husband, said that your father seemed over the moon, and I suspect that now I know why. Welcome to Forks," Esme murmured, smiling warmly. I realised I was still holding her hand, and hurriedly let go.
"Sorry," I muttered.
"It's quite all right, dear," she said. Again, my nerves jangled at that faint minty smell. Still, my nose is barely up to human standards. Birds aren't really known for their sense of smell, you see, though my eyesight is scarily good. I blinked, realising she was looking at me expectantly.
"How are you enjoying your stay so far?" She repeated patiently, apparently aware that I'd been off in the clouds.
"It's been great, apart from the weather…" Don't talk about the weather, Bella, I chastised myself. "I-I mean, my dad's been really good about things, and it was at quite short notice, so I'm just trying to settle in for some studying, I think."
Her eyes widened, "So early in the year?"
I shrugged noncommittally, "I was homeschooled, so I have a lot to catch up on. Don't want to end up back in third grade, or something." A little white lie to explain my absence from the public school system. Renee even held a fake permit to teach me, issued by the Ministry of Whispers, to help with that excuse.
Mrs Cullen tittered at my lame little joke, leaning against the vegetable counter. "Well, if you need any help, my youngest had the same problem last year."
I smiled, my mind still ticking over the available information, "Thanks, Mrs Cullen. I'll keep that in mind." Well, at least the woman didn't seem to think I was too weird, though her nose was flaring, like she was trying really hard not to sneeze. Muscles clenched and held still for unnaturally long periods of time. European werewolf, maybe? I would have bet anything that her sense of smell was way better than mine.
"Call me Esme, dear. I'm afraid that I really must be going, though. I have five teenagers to feed, and I swear Emmet is becoming more of a black hole every year," she said, golden eyes shining, but seeming to have darkened to a caramel brown. I blinked. Weird, I didn't think peoples' eyes actually did that. Mark up another one for the werewolf hypothesis, I suppose. I let out a weak laugh at that, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly.
"Um… of course. It was nice to meet you, Esme."
She nodded, walking off to get her purchases scanned. I was dimly aware that the clerk behind the register had been staring between me and Esme for quite some time, but I had gotten used to that. I bit my lip, keeping the pain in the forefront of my mind as I pulled my unruly aura back into myself. It was hard to suppress, and I'd gotten used to just letting it all hang out back at Salem. It didn't usually affect women unless they'd already have a reason to be attracted to me, if you catch my drift. Mechanically, I finished packing the vegetables, and went to pay.
His name tag read 'Matt', and he looked fit to burst, his face was so red. I looked down; my ratty windbreaker and faded jeans weren't exactly runway model fare, but then most girls don't come magically airbrushed. I managed to acquire my purchases with the minimal amount of sexual harassment —none is the best amount— and hurried back out into the pouring rain, pulling my hood up against the wind. Dad's cruiser was nearby, and I climbed in, towelling down my face as soon as I was strapped in. Still, I couldn't exactly leave the thought alone. What other magical beings could Forks be hiding?
The summer passed much quicker than I could have expected, a blur of textbooks and endless mock tests. Call me a bookworm, but I actually loved it. It was an excuse not to have to deal with people, though Dad made pleasant enough company. That, and he'd invited a girl called Angela to help me study, which was nice. She was very quiet, and much like my dad, she didn't push me in the same way that Mom did, and it was good not to be constantly hounded. Not when I did that just fine myself. Transforming was actually the highlight of my day, often.
I'd been out for a wing around when the nights were clear, always careful to stick to the woods where my ungainly bird form could hide among the trees. Humanoid bodies weren't really made for flight, and the crows found me quite an amusing sight. I like crows. They look after their own, and somehow that includes me. I'd heard all the places where a crow had been killed back to the eighteen hundreds, I think, because crows are sort of crazy like that.
So it came as a relief when my results for the qualification tests came back, and I could finally stop stressing myself into nightly visits to the forest. Apparently, despite my lack of a standard muggle education, I had scraped eleventh grade material, and they would be happy to have me in the coming semester. A bit behind the curve, but better than nothing, right? Of course, I'd immediately flooed Emma to let her know, and Charlie had taken the pair of us out to eat. Quite the gentleman, my dad, in his fumbling, gruff sort of way. In the meantime, I'd read over my old school books on dark creatures, though several possibilities still presented themselves.
European werewolf was a strong candidate, as Esme had mentioned having children, and they were common as anything. I blame Europe's terrible treatment of natural werewolf packs. But the North American vampire was also quite close, given the coldness of her skin. At the same time, though, I couldn't rule out a stranger hybrid, because vampires were meant to have eyes the color of blood. Lineages can get rather complicated, especially when you factor in more than one magical creature. With that done, I had shelved the issue, taking life as it came. Blind speculation was pointless. What really mattered was the evidence, and I suspected that once I was in school, I'd be free to observe.
So, as it happened, I found myself getting ready for my first day, when there was a knock on the door in the middle of the afternoon. I still had a few days worth of leeway, but it never hurt to be prepared, right? My magical books were stashed well out of sight from Angela's visits, though the broomstick in my closet had been a little tricky to explain. I rolled my eyes. Billy Black was back to steal my dad away for another of his fishing trips. It wouldn't be fair to complain, though, since there were still slabs of fish in the freezer from the last trip.
"Bells!" Charlie called up to me, and I momentarily looked around for another Bella, because it wasn't like Billy had said two words to me since we'd met. I think he found my aura embarrassing, since my control still wasn't exactly perfect, and he must be nearing sixty. There was another voice down there, though, so consider my interest piqued.
"Coming, Dad!" I shouted back, slipping a bookmark into my math textbook and padding down the stairs. My eyes widened, and I froze in the front door. "Jake?"
The musclebound stranger nodded dumbly, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. That was all the prompting I needed to give him a hug to end all hugs, because while I didn't really recognise him at first, he was still the first friend I'd ever made. He made that cute little 'choking on my own spit' noise that I sometimes hear from guys, and gingerly patted my back.
"Guess I don't have to ask if you remember me?" He said finally, as I let him go. My dad exchanged glances with Billy in the corner of my vision, but I just shook my head, finally registering the unfamiliar vehicle in the drive. It was a giant, ancient looking pickup truck, in a rather appealing shade of red.
"You used to like mud pies, and I pushed you in the creek when you tried to feed me one," I murmured, nudging him in the ribs. Holy crap, it was like poking a brick wall! He chuckled helplessly, covering his mouth.
"Hah, yeah… back when I knew how to take a pretty girl out," he said wryly, and I rolled my eyes. I'd heard worse. I turned back to my dad, who was currently dodging Billy's playful attempts to ram him in the ankles. Do boys ever grow up? I had my doubts.
"Dad, what'd you need?" I called, breaking up their tussling. He swaggered up to the truck, slapping a hand against the side.
"You got here earlier than I'd expected, so this wasn't ready. Your homecoming present," he said gruffly, waving his hand over the truck. I'm not really sure what I was thinking at the time, but I drew in a shaky breath, my chest filling with that kind of indescribable warmth you only get by knowing someone loves you.
"I love it! Thanks, dad. Really, it's the best!" I gushed, but my joy was tempered by an undercurrent of unease. I'd never learnt to drive anything other than a tractor, so this was a first, regardless of the similarities between the two vehicles. And it was a stick shift, by the look of it. Hopefully I wasn't to be expected to hop in and drive right now.
"Come on up, I'll show you the works," Jake called, climbing into the passenger seat. I suppose I spoke too soon.
Gingerly I climbed in, pulling a pair of worn cotton gloves from my pocket. It would be good not to accidentally fry the radio, at least. Jake watched me curiously… well, stared is more accurate, but at least he didn't comment on my weird little habits. I groaned inwardly. This was going to be a disaster. I could barely remember what order the pedals went in, and my assistant looked to be developing a serious case of puppy face.
"You drive a stick before, Bells?" he asked quietly, leaning toward me. I shook my head, adjusting the seat clumsily.
"Just a tractor. My uncle taught me, and it wasn't too hard," I murmured, biting my lip. Jake snorted, shaking his head.
"Well, this is gonna be a bit harder than that. Replaced the engine myself last week, so it might have a little teething trouble at first, but power through and it'll never break down."
I raised an eyebrow. "God himself could not sink this ship," I quoted, my voice thick with gallows humor. He slapped me on the arm and I laughed, inwardly cursing my pasty complexion. That was probably going to bruise later, and he barely even touched me.
"Don't jinx my work now," he said, grinning. Don't worry, captain, this disaster will be one hundred percent operator error. Well, at least I managed to start it okay. I made a very slow, wobbly circuit of the block before he made me pull over, frowning. Not to put my dad down or anything, because this was a great gift, but give me a broomstick any day of the week.
"We gotta get you sorted out," Jake groaned, rubbing his forehead. Can it, drama king, I wasn't that bad.
"I bet my dad can teach me. It doesn't seem so bad, once you get used to the clutch," I said. He laughed, but didn't disagree.
"Try to break ten miles per hour on the way back this time, speed queen," he taunted, and I nudged him again in irritation. Still, we made it back in one piece, and I only stalled it a couple of times. Still, it made me revise my position on being a witch among muggles a little better. A fake driver's license was a health hazard I'd never even considered.
"Isabella Swan, is that correct?" the red haired lady said, peering up at me. I fidgeted, playing with the neckline of my hoodie, and nodded. Not that I ever really got cold, but I liked that hoodie a lot. It smelled like Salem, and on some level that was still home. Not anymore, I thought bitterly. Still, the school seemed nice, from what I'd seen, in that bleached, mundane, muggle sort of way. Peaceful, in a way that a college of magic just couldn't afford to be. The lady, one 'Shelly' according to her name tag, gave me a bright smile, handing me my schedule and a small map of the school before turning back to her novel. Checking the package, there was also a weird little slip that I was apparently meant to get my teachers to sign.
"If you get lost, don't worry too much, dear. It's your first day, so just try to focus on keeping calm," she said absently, and I grimaced, biting back a scathing retort. Focus, Bella, she didn't mean to imply that you're a helpless babe who can't use a map. At least my temper wasn't as bad as it used to be. She was probably just instinctually reacting to me as competition, as some women were wont to do. It sucked, but I'd learnt to deal with it.
Grumbling faintly, I crossed the parking lot toward the school proper, since apparently my first class would be English, and I was quite pleased with that. Salem had been quite lax in its teaching of the subject, and so long as our essays were legible, we'd get good marks. It was enough to get by, and to be a parasite in muggle society, but not much more than that. In short, it sucked, and I knew I could do better than that. Reining in my aura as much as I could, I made my way as swiftly and efficiently as possible toward the classroom, keeping my head down as I went. Curious stares followed me, because I'd never exactly managed to nail 'inconspicuous', even without the magical 'screw me' spotlight.
Needless to say, my first class passed mostly without incident. I sat next to Angela, who seemed overjoyed to have someone to share the class with, but whenever my eyes flicked up from the reading task, I noticed the stares. My lips were starting to feel rather tender from how hard I was holding in the allure, but at least it seemed to be working. The looks were the sharp, predatory sort of curiosity, rather than the dopy, vacant stare of the enthralled. Still, my other neighbor, a greasy looking boy with dark hair, was a different problem entirely.
It was an equally dopy look of pure longing I'd known to recognise on sight, and I rolled my eyes from behind my copy of Canterbury Tales, edging my desk a little closer to Angela. It wasn't his fault, but I hated it. Hated what I did to people, if they stuck around me too long. As a teenage boy, he was unrealistic expectations and hormones bundled up in one horribly inconvenient package. Speaking of which, can I say that better than average eyesight can scar you for life? Because nobody was going to be camping in that tent. I stifled a sigh of disgust, looking imploringly at Angela. Her eyes flicked over to the boy, a frown crossing her face, and shook her head faintly. After what felt like an age, the bell rang, and I left quickly, stopping outside the door to wait for my friend to finish packing.
"Hey there, you're Isabella Swan, right?" a voice piped up. I looked up from the floor, meeting the brown eyes of my would-be admirer. He looked chipper enough, and I already felt bad for him. Sorry, bub, you're not my type.
"Bella," I grunted, making a show of examining the fire alarm beside the door.
"My name's Eric," he said, and I awkwardly shook his hand. Scourgify… scourgify, please. My half-hearted attempt at wandless, motionless casting was unsuccessful, to my chagrin. "C-can I walk you to your next class?" he blurted, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. I tried to smile, but I suspect it came out as more of a grimace.
"I'm actually waiting for my friend Angela," I started, looking over his shoulder, where Angela was waiting patiently by the lockers. "And that's her right now. Bye, Eric," I said, walking briskly toward my friend. I heard him stutter something about building four as I left, but I wasn't really paying attention.
My stomach was roiling on the way to government. I felt horrible for treating someone so poorly, but I knew it would be for his own good in the long run. Weak willed guys like that don't stand up to the aura very well in the long term, and it tends to wear them down after a few years. I'd seen them before, when my mother's flock held a moot, and it wasn't pretty. Mindless drones was putting it lightly. I'd kill myself before putting anyone through that.
"Are you okay?" Angela whispered softly, and I relaxed, releasing my death grip on the handles of my rucksack.
"I'm… he likes me. I don't want to have to deal with that, so I was really rude back there, and I hope he'll back off," I muttered, scuffing my shoes against the gravel as we crossed over to building four.
"Well, you are pretty likeable," Angela chirped, smiling serenely. I growled teasingly, and she waved her hands in mocking surrender. "Okay, okay… look, it's fine. Sometimes, you just have to let them down, if you're not interested. Um… or so I hear."
I sighed. She was right, of course. "Yeah. But it never gets easier."
As it turned out, dealing with Eric should have been the least of my worries.
Author's Note: Okay, I wanted to cut it here because otherwise things would be too long. Is it any good? If you even got this far, please, send me criticism if you can, because I'm trying to learn how to write first person. Serious discomfort zone here, people. I don't mind what you say, so long as it's at least marginally constructive. Don't worry about being seen as a hater, because I see enough sycophantic behaviour on this site to know that I prefer ballsy, thoughtful crit to mindless praise. I'm actually much more likely to get on your case if you were to spam reviews of every chapter with 'so good, write more' copypasted over and over or something similar. Because that shit is hollow and creepy, no offence. Anyway, rant over. If you think of anything I can do better, let me know, and don't worry about offending me.
