A/N: This is a Jasper/OC pairing fic. I wanted to explore an alternative romance than ran parallel to the series. It will follow the series parallel to Bella/Edward's romance but they are not the main pairing. Also please keep in mind that while I will try to keep it as canon as possible, there are some things I will alter to be less problematic.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. I am in no way, shape or form affiliated with SMeyer or her intellectual property. I'm diving in the sparkly sandbox again and shaking things up.
Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
In a lot of ways being a Navy brat sucked. I didn't have a lot of friends because I moved around a lot, didn't see my parents much because dad's very busy man and mom's a lawyer. I struggled in school because I just wasn't around long enough for it to stick. I didn't have many living relatives either. Both of my grandparents on both sides were dead, my dad was an only child, and my mother has one sister who lives in Washington state. You can probably understand why my self-confidence was in the proverbial toilet.
We'd spent the last five years in New York City, my dad commuting to the base in Pennsylvania. My parents were moving to the base in Tacoma- I say my parents because I was going to be living with my aunt and uncle in Forks, a tiny town in the Olympic Peninsula three hours away. I was embarrassed to admit the fact I'd had a complete meltdown New York City when I was told we were moving again, having said things I now regretted.
My parents are sort of strangers, but they are good people and want what's best for me. Unfortunately, their ideas of what's best for me don't match mine (which makes sense I suppose seeing as how I'm seventeen and they're my parents). They do love me and I love them dearly, but we aren't what I'd call close. Both are strict and have high standards, always pushing themselves -and by extension me- to succeed. Sandra, my mom, had my life plotted out from my birth onward to my college graduation- I'd been put through the particular hell known as charm school when we lived in Georgia at her insistence and had been groomed to pursue a respectable career such as a lawyer, doctor or politician. My grades were average, mostly B's but were a source of vexation for my perfection obsessed mother.
My father William was the strong, silent type- a preacher's son from Tulsa, Oklahoma. He'd enlisted at eighteen and had climbed the ranks quickly to become a respected and decorated leader. He had high hopes for me but his number one expectation was that I would continue the family military tradition, even if I wanted to go after college. While my mother was focused on turning me into an independent woman, he made sure I knew self-defense, how to use a gun, basic survival skills, ect. I was more prepared than your most experienced boy scout. When I was younger we spent a lot of time outdoors, which was fine since I'd enjoyed being outside.
Our plane landed at Sea-Tac on a foggy morning in November. I would be going on to Port Angeles in about an hour in another small plane where I'd be met by my aunt and uncle to pick me up for the hour long drive back to Forks.
My earbuds which had been firmly shoved in my ears throughout the flight were yanked out by my mother once we reached baggage claim to wait.
"Sloane, you know I hate it when you do that in public," Sandra complained, stepping behind me to pull my red hair out of its sloppy ponytail and into a much neater bun. We weren't sure where the red had come from, my dad having black hair and my mom a natural blonde, but in a way, it made me happy. It was a trait that was all mine. Even if it was a hassle to maintain.
"Mom, stop- ow!" My eyes watered when she pulled too hard. My hair was a riot of curls, a dark copper mane that tumbled past my waist. It had a mind of its own and didn't take kindly to being secured in any way shape or form. As you can imagine it infuriated Sandra.
"If you would just straighten it regularly you wouldn't have this problem." I shut my mouth to stop myself from arguing about how it would take me literal hours to straighten my hair. It wouldn't do any good since she'd continue to fix it her way anyway. Sandra finally stepped back to look at her handiwork. My head hurt from how tightly it was secured and I went to adjust it when all three hair ties snapped, my curls exploding free and back into their usual waterfall.
"It's not my fault," I insisted when she threw up her hands, exasperated. I rolled my neck, wincing at the kink on the right side. I really needed to stop falling asleep sitting up in bed, otherwise, I wouldn't be able to turn my head. Sandra ran a critical eye over me sighing, "Stop slouching. It's unbecoming."
Her phone rang and she stepped away to answer it, her tall and stylish heels clacking against the tile as she walked. They were very pretty shoes, the type professional women like my mother wore- the kind she wanted me to wear. I glanced down at my black steel toed boots I'd fondly dubbed my "bitch kickers."
My dad dropped a hand on my shoulder to get my attention and I craned my neck to look up at him. I wasn't exactly short standing at a very average five foot six, but he was tall, a hair over six foot. He was a severe looking man with his hair cut high and tight and his clothes always perfectly pressed. We looked similar, both of us having precisely the same strange mint green eyes, high cheekbones, and strong jawline. I didn't look anything like Sandra.
"Hm?"
"How are you feeling, spitfire?" he asked kindly, brushing a curl from my face. My heart clenched at the endearment. My parents, for all that we spent little time together, loved me and I would miss them. I told him so.
"You can still come with us. It's not too late to change your mind." For a brief moment I wanted too, but I steeled myself.
"No," I said after taking a deep breath. "I think this is something I need to do." Guilt burned in my gut. "I'm sorry for what I said back in New York, I acted like a-"
He cut me off. "Like a kid who wants some normalcy in her life. I know moving around all the time has been hard for you and your mom. You're normally such a mild mannered girl so it was a bit of a shock when you exploded, but it was understandable." He pulled me into a tight hug and I buried my face in his shoulder.
"I love you, spitfire. I have ever since your mom told me you were on the way. If this is something you feel you need to do, then I'll support you all the way." He pulled back from me to look me in the eye.
"But if you ever use language like that in front of me or your mother again we are going to have a conversation I promise you won't like," He said seriously. I nodded quickly and he pulled me close again. I hugged him as close as I could before we let go. I heard Sandra come stand beside us having finished her phone call.
She held out her hand and pulled me into a hug that smelled like Burberry perfume and was as familiar as my own reflection. She held me tightly, just as I held her.
"Darling girl, you've grown up so fast," She said pulling away to look me in the face. Her smile was watery as she continued. "Goodness gracious, it's like you were two years old with skinned knees and grass stained overalls just yesterday."
She brushed her fingers under her eyes. My mother was beautiful with her cornsilk hair, gray eyes and doll like features. She stood eye to eye with my father in her shoes, dressed to impress as she usually was. We had little in common and she was a harsh taskmistress but I truly appreciated everything she had tried to instill in me. Even if I had hated every second of charm school.
"Now Sloane, I want you to remember to keep in touch. We're only three hours away should anything happen and I want you to know that if you need to come home you can." She brushed imaginary lint off the shoulders of my navy blue coat.
"I promise," I said with a watery smile. This was a good thing, but I didn't understand why it was so hard. Sandra must have seen something on my face because she continued.
"My sister is a good woman and she married an equally good man. Archie is a Lutheran pastor and your cousin Angela is a lovely girl. You haven't met your younger cousins but I'm sure you'll love them all the same."
I remembered Angela. We'd played together as children, although we mostly ended up sitting back to back somewhere to read books. She was very kind then and I hoped she hadn't changed.
With final hugs and tearful goodbyes, I boarded my flight as my parents left for their rental car. The flight was short but alarmingly bumpy in some places. I enjoyed flying, but I'd never been so thankful to get out of a plane once we landed.
I spotted my aunt immediately. Seeing her was a bit of a shock. She and Sandra were identical twins, but the looks department was apparently all they had in common. My mother was a power dresser, looking like she stepped off a page in Vogue both in and out of a courtroom with perfectly styled hair cropped into a bob. Stacy, on the other hand, was dressed modestly and comfortably in a cable knit sweater, jeans and comfortable looking shoes, with hair just past her shoulders. I could see a scrunchie on her wrist. Next to her stood a tall kind looking man with a receding hairline and a neat gray beard similarly dressed but in a more subdued color palette.
As soon as I was in reach Stacy pulled me into a warm hug and I felt much better. She smelled like cookies and fresh rain. Archie hugged me as well.
"Look at you, honey! You look just like your daddy now," Stacy said with a big smile. "Let's go get your bags and get the heck out of dodge."
We did just that, piling my three bags into the back of their van. Archie had looking questioningly at them but didn't comment. Stacy didn't seem to have the same compunction.
"This it, honey?" She looked at me disbelieving.
"Navy brat," I replied, mostly joking We moved so much that I didn't collect much. I had a few books and some clothes having learned to live and pack lightly. "Mom has seven bags twice the size of mine."
She laughed and it was a lovely sound. "I believe it. Sandra always was a bit of a clothes horse, even when we were kids."
The drive to Forks was pleasant and I found myself relaxing into their company. Archie was a quiet man, but he had a very kind demeanor. Stacy, in contrast, was as warm as a batch of cookies and just as sweet. She happily chattered the whole way back, filling me in on all the town gossip and news.
"Now don't worry about being the new kid," She said while piling her hair up on top of her head with a pink scrunchie. "Chief Swan's daughter arrived from Phoenix about two months ago. She's a nice girl, a little quiet. I'm sure Angie will introduce you."
"Arizona? Wow. That's a change."
"Isn't it? She doesn't look like it either! Pale as the moon, Bella is. She's a bit quiet and could use a good meal or two. She's rather attached to one of the Cullen boys. Edmund, Edgar- something old fashioned."
I fidgeted in my seat feeling the familiar feeling of embarrassment while she discussed Bella. I wasn't overweight but was on the higher end of the healthy BMI range. My breasts were larger than average as were my hips and my backside had more padding than I was comfortable with. I wasn't hideous, but I always felt that I could (and should) lose about ten pounds. I pulled myself away from the negative thoughts that threatened to spoil my mood.
"Cullen boys?" I asked more out of politeness than any real interest.
"Doctor Cullen and his wife moved to our little town from Alaska two years ago with the five teenagers they'd adopted. Can you imagine that? They're absolutely wonderful and their children are very polite, with excellent manners." I raised my eyebrows at her enthusiastic endorsement and made a mental note to talk to Angela about it further.
I looked out the window to get a look at where I'd be living. Forks was a far cry from the glamorous apartment I'd lived in with my mom in Manhattan. Obviously, a military salary wouldn't be able to cover such an extravagant spot, but my mom made her own money as a highly successful prosecutor.
New York was a rush of life and lights, always moving and spinning. I loved everything about it- the noise, always seeing something different every day, the food. God, I was going to miss real pizza and bagels with lox. The city was tiny in size but it held more life than anywhere I'd ever been. It was gray and old and smelled like iron and cigarettes but there wasn't anything else like it.
Forks was green. Which was interesting since green was my favorite color, but I'd never seen so much vegetation in my life. It was also gray but it was a different sort of gray than back home. Here gray meant rain and wet, which in turn blossomed into a sprawling green landscape. It was beautiful in an alien way and I hoped it would grow on me.
We turned off the highway and down a wet road lined with older but neatly kept houses. Archie pulled into the driveway of one that was a bit larger than the others on the street but not by much. There were bikes and other toys strewn about the front lawn and porch had terra cotta pots with cheerful looking flowers. It looked like it had been painted recently, the white coloring not having time to fade. The front door was also freshly painted a bright cobalt blue.
My glasses fogged up immediately when I hopped out of the van. I rubbed the lenses in vain with the end of my shirt but gave it up as a lost cause to help Archie carry my bags inside. It was warm both in temperature and atmosphere inside, looking well lived in. I smiled when I saw the growth chart scratched into the kitchen doorway. We carried my stuff upstairs to the last room down the hall that I'd be sharing with Angela.
The room was painted a buttery yellow and had a large bay window already decked out with fluffy pillows on the window seat. The window was flanked by two beds. On the left was a neatly made captain's bed with a pretty blue paisley comforter that I identified as Angela's bed. On the right was mine, with an iron head and foot board and covered with a giant patchwork quilt and two pillows fluffed just so. There was a small, low dresser at the foot of it made of cherry. A desk and chair made of the same wood were tucked into the corner on the other wall with two mismatched overstuffed bookcases. It looked very inviting and I told my aunt and uncle so. They looked just as pleased as I was.
Archie ducked out when the phone rang, but Stacy stayed to help me unpack. My underwear, socks, and other things went into the dresser, and she showed me in the closet where space had been made to put some of my other clothes. It didn't even fill half of it, much to my aunt's amusement.
"I was so certain you'd have as many clothes as your momma," she said, moving Angela's things back into place. "You don't quite dress like her either if you don't mind me saying so."
I waved it off. "I hunt thrift stores and estate sales for my clothes." Stacy looked askance at me, confused until I elaborated.
"Most clothes don't sit right on me," I explained, gesturing to myself, mentally wincing at my figure. Hourglass was pretty but kind of a pain to shop for. "It's easier to go find stuff I can alter to suit both my shape and my taste." Stacy looked very approving at that.
"I've got a sewing machine that hasn't seen much use, but you're welcome to it all the same. I know Angela would be interested in learning. Poor thing, she's got her daddy's genes, can't find anything off the rack that fits right." I nodded sympathetically.
Once my stuff was put away I was ushered down to the kitchen where Stacy loaded up a bowl of chili and placed it in front of me. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I took a bite, and didn't talk again until my bowl was empty. I flushed with embarrassment but Stacy just waved me off, with a smile I was now sure never left her face. "Don't you worry honey, it's nice to see such a good reaction to my cooking."
"Mom can't cook."
"No, she can't," Stacy agreed. "Did you ever hear about the time she burnt her eyebrows half off trying to boil water for pasta?"
I helped her clean up and do some light chores before I was sent off to take a nap. I was exhausted from traveling, having been awake for nearly eighteen hours. I fell into my bed after making sure my phone was on its charger and passed out on top of the covers.
I must have been more tired than I thought because I woke up the next morning to the sound of an alarm not my own. I rolled over blinking blearily at the backlight of my phone to check the time.
"It's five thirty," a gentle voice said across from me. I pawed blindly for my glasses, my fingers catching on to the edge of the black plastic cat eye frames. I shoved them on my face to see Angela sitting cross legged on her bed in a very comfortable looking set of pink flannel pajamas. She was very pretty, with wide brown eyes and mousy brown hair streaked with honey. I could tell she was tall even when she was sitting.
I stretched, groaning as the muscles in my spine popped. I was a bit sore from not having moved all night, but a little stretching wouldn't hurt. I sat up slowly and blinked slowly in a vain attempt to wake up.
"Morning Angela," I said, my voice still raspy with sleep.
"Good morning Sloane. We don't normally have to wake up until six, but I thought you might want to get to school early today to get your bearings."
"That sounds good. I really appreciate it." I was a little floored by her thoughtfulness and grinned as she blushed slightly. She stood up and walked over to her closet to pick out her clothes for the day, and I ducked grabbed my toiletry bag to do my morning routine in the bathroom.
I normally went all out on my makeup, but I really wasn't feeling like doing a full face this morning. I toned it down instead and went with my signature gold winged liner, mascara and false eyelashes and a quick swipe of tinted gloss. I carefully pulled my hair into a high ponytail, then swapped with Angela to go pick out my clothes. For the first day of school, I didn't want to stick out but I knew it needed to be warm. It took me a few minutes, but I decided on my green and black plaid skirt, black leggings, and my favorite chunky black sweater I'd picked up at an estate sale. My boots were downstairs by the door with the rest of the shoes.
After putting in my silver studs in my ears and taking my meds I grabbed my backpack and toddled downstairs. It clinked a bit from all the keychains on it and glinted in the low light from all the pins and patches I'd attached to it over the years. Honestly, it was on the verge of falling apart but I would hold onto for as long as I could.
Angela appeared a few minutes later in a brown turtleneck and very flattering jeans as I was lacing up my boots. She darted into the kitchen and I heard the sound of the microwave. I normally wasn't a breakfast person, content with a cup of tea and reading the news. Angela reappeared with two slices of banana bread wrapped carefully in napkins and handed one to me.
"There's coffee brewing if you wanted to wait," she offered.
"Do you have tea and to-go cups?"
She showed me in the pantry what she had and I selected a plain black tea with a bit of milk to change the color a bit and just enough honey to take the bitterness off. Angela made her coffee and with cups in hand and coats on we made our way outside.
I hadn't seen him as I stumbled around getting ready, but Archie was waiting in the car for us when we got outside. We ducked into the warmth, sipping on our respective drinks as we slowly arrived in the land of the living.
Forks high school was just off the highway (as everything apparently was) with a sign that declared it to be the home of the Spartans. The buildings were made with maroon colored bricks, all matching and looking like houses. They were surrounded by lots of trees and shrubs that seemed to be creeping in from the forest around. I'd never seen anything like it but I was charmed all the same.
Archie stopped in front of the first building with a sign on the door that proclaimed it to the be the front office. It was drizzling when we exited the car with cheerful goodbyes. Angela, bless her, walked in with me and sat down on one of the chairs to review the notes she'd pulled out of her bag.
My boots didn't make any noise on the orange flecked carpet when I walked over to the front window. A clock ticked loudly somewhere behind the unmanned desk.
"Hello?" I called out.
There was a shuffling and a large woman with red hair in a sweatshirt appeared from somewhere in the back. She looked at me with a critical eye and asked archly, "Can I help you?"
"I'm Sloane Dawson." I cringed slightly as she looked me up and down. From what Stacy had told me the gossip mill flooded quickly and that I'd been the talk of the town- the Pastor's niece from New York City coming to stay. She looked very disapproving as she took in my makeup, overly festooned backpack, and heavy boots. I tried not to squirm and failed.
"Of course, one moment dear," She said as she dug through the mess of papers on the desk. "This here is your schedule and a map of the school."
I was grateful she took the time to show me the best routes to get to my classes and before I left she handed me a slip I needed all my teachers to sign. I was to bring it back at the end of the day, which wasn't a big deal. Once I was set, Angela looked over my schedule and was pleased to see we shared first hour English.
Outside the parking lot was filling with cars, most of them older with the exception of an obviously new Volvo, a flashy red convertible and a big black Dodge truck, all three parked side by side out of the way. It was still raining, so I tugged my hood up over my hair again, glad my blue coat wouldn't look out of place here. I was kind of unnerved at seeing how everyone else was dressed (similar to Angela) and I knew I was going to stick out even more.
Angela patted me on the shoulder when we walked into the tiny classroom and hung up out coats. I heard the room quiet the second I removed it, my hair a flaming beacon against my mostly black outfit. The nameplate on the desk declared the teacher to be Mr. Mason, a tall balding man who stared at me with a slack jawed expression as he signed my slip. I quickly slipped to the back at a desk occupied by another girl who didn't pay me any attention at first.
"He had the exact same reaction to me when I got here." I looked up at the girl sharing my table. She was very pretty with deep chocolate eyes and wavy brown hair that glinted with red strands. Her skin was pale like everyone else here in this rainy town and her eyes had heavy bags on her thin face.
"I'm Bella Swan," She continued. I held my hand out for her to shake. "Don't worry, the rumor mill will probably stop soon."
"Probably?" I laughed a bit self consciously. She smiled sympathetically at the discomfort I could feel on my face. I felt a little better knowing I wasn't the only new person here.
"It's a small town and you're from somewhere more exciting. New York, right?"
"Yeah. I'm Sloane by the way, sorry."
"You're fine. What classes do you have?" I dug out my schedule and handed it to her. She looked it over and nodded, handing it back.
"We share this class and gym. My sympathies," she joked. "Just duck and run when I'm on the court. Everyone else does."
"I'm not a fan of team sports but I'll see if I can keep the ball away from you. I've got good reflexes." The look of relief on her face sent me into a mess of giggles. Bella flicked her hair over her shoulder and I smelled the faintest scent of strawberries.
"I saw that you're in the AP seniors physics. You must be pretty good at science then."
"Not really." I shrugged. "I just really like the subject. I struggle a lot with it but because I like it, it motivates me to work harder." Having ADHD didn't help either, I thought to myself as I drummed my fingers lightly against the tabletop.
Our conversation was cut off by the Mr. Mason calling for attention. I dug around in my bag for my notebook but couldn't find a pen. I tapped Bella on the shoulder. "Do you have an extra pen?" She wordlessly handed me a spare and returned her attention to the front.
It wasn't quite as easy for me to focus. My toes kept tapping the on the crack in the dingy linoleum as my eyes flicked around the room. Directly in front of me were two girls. One was a white-blonde in a trendy dress and the other was shorter with light brown hair. Both were as pale as the moon and I was beginning to realize that was the norm here.
The bell was awful, a loud nasally buzz that caused me to jump out of my skin. I grabbed my bag and weaved my way through the slow moving students to get my coat trying to not draw attention to myself.
Which failed miserably because I ended up walking to my next class with my nose stuck into my map. I made it Trigonometry just as the last bell rang, and was forced to introduce myself to the class by Mr. Varner. I silently begged for the ground to open up and swallow me as I slunk to the back empty seat. The rest of the morning continued on like so.
So people were nice enough to come introduce themselves to me and I honestly appreciated it. I normally didn't have an issue with shyness but that was back in New York where you were just as likely to never see someone again after meeting them- here everyone's grandparents had gone to school together. They were mostly very welcoming but some were standoffish. I didn't take it too personally.
Angela met me outside Spanish class to walk with me to lunch. We got our trays and then she led me to a full lunch table in the crowded cafeteria, cheerfully introducing her to my friends. I'd just taken my seat next to a blonde boy named Mike when I saw Bella walking past. I waved at her but she didn't seem to see me, instead rushing quickly to a table occupied by a bronze haired boy.
"Don't bother," said a girl I was pretty sure was named Jessica. "She doesn't bother with us anymore when she can hang out with the Cullen's." Mike sighed and rolled his eyes at her which caused Jessica to glare back. "It's true! As soon as Edward paid her the time of day she up and left us!"
"Like you wouldn't do the same," he snarked, taking a bite of his pizza. The table dissolved into a ridiculous argument that I lost track of, instead trying to focus on not stressing out. The noise was overwhelming and I felt myself getting a little uncomfortable in the unfamiliar intense environment.
I'm safe, I'm calm, I'm okay, I thought, repeating the familiar mantra my therapist had taught me. I focused on my breathing, inhaling three counts, holding it, then exhaling three. Slowly I relaxed by degrees and took my banana in hand. I peeled it slowly, taking the time to carefully pick it apart into bite-sized pieces.
Mike laughed loudly and fell against my shoulder, jarring me out of my calm state. He apologized quickly before going to back to rough housing with Eric. I could feel an anxiety attack beginning, my chest feeling tighter with each breath.
Something tickled against me and suddenly I was flooded with a burst of calm that chased away all the negative feelings. I was so calm I couldn't be startled at the realization. As I looked up and around the cafeteria, my gaze was drawn to a table in the corner occupied by four of the palest people I'd ever seen. One of which who was already staring at me.
My eyes locked with an intense molten gold. Feelings of calm flooded through me, as if I was being wrapped in a warm blanket of good vibes.
The stranger was ridiculously handsome with his long blond hair and the most incredible eyes. He looked tall and lean but well muscled. He was dressed in a long sleeved navy button down shirt with the top two buttons undone to reveal his white undershirt. The way the table was angled I could see he was wearing black jeans and boots.
But something was just off. He was too pale, far too pale to be natural. His eyes had heavy purple bags that made him look sleep deprived. I felt a rush of sympathy- I was very familiar with the evils of insomnia, but something told me that wasn't quite it. He was beautiful, but I could feel my gut telling me to stay far away.
Jessica waved her hand in front of my face and I pulled my attention from his eyes to her angry ones. "I'm sorry, I got distracted. What did you say?"
"I was going to invite you to come to First Beach with us but you're obviously more interested in the Cullen clan." she huffed. I felt bad for getting so absorbed in a stranger across the room and ignoring the people in front of me. ADHD strikes again!
"I'm sorry Jessica, I space out sometimes. They just look a little… different," I said delicately. Mike hooted with laughter next to me.
"Different? That's not what I expected you to say."
Angela patted me on the shoulder kindly as I struggled to find the words to reply. I didn't know what to say about the people across the room. I did manage to not look back over at them and was able to sort of focus on the conversation around me. Jessica softened a bit when I made the effort to engage. She seemed nice, if a bit of a snob. It wasn't enough to bother me. I'd met people who were much worse.
When lunch ended I stood up to toss my still mostly full tray in the trash- anxiety attacks always killed my appetite. I snuck a look up at the boy from earlier which was a mistake. He met my gaze with an even stare of his own, and I blushed a bit as his eyes slowly dragged up from my boots to my own gaze.
There was something about those eyes of his that triggered a memory from when I was a kid. I'd gone through a phase where I'd been obsessed with big cats. My mom took me to the zoo so that I could go see them, all the while laughing while I dragged her determinedly through the crowds. Little eight year old me had stood close to the glass watching the lazy beasts lounge around in their majestic glory. One had locked eyes with me and had stalked closer, a big male who sat in front of the glass where I'd pressed my hands. He'd very slowly lifted a paw and pressed it where my left hand was, all the while staring me in the eye with a vivid gaze.
Tyger tyger, burning bright, I thought as I finally broke eye contact with him. Scurrying back to my table where I'd left my bag, I went to exit the cafeteria but for whatever reason, I looked back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in an almost smile. I ran out with my face burning to my next class.