Disclaimer: this is in regards to the entire story. I do not own The Twilight Saga or anything of the sorts. I do, however, own this plot and Clara.
Chapter 1.
Pancakes.
"Do you remember it raining this much last fall?" Clara asked as we carried our bags into our new house. The walk between the gravel driveway and the small, red house was short. It was the constant heavy downpour that made it feel as though the driveway were a football field long.
"No. But we're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy." I spoke sarcastically, wishing for the white hot concrete of our driveway in Los Angeles.
It wasn't the fact that we had moved that was throwing me off. Clara, Mom, Phoebe and I had moved lots of times. The time in between our moves was only just long enough to form a decent routine and get comfortable. Once we were in place, we were up and on the go again. I had grown up like that and I was too used to it. It was the drastic change in climate and reasoning that made our most recent move so difficult.
The small town was under a constant cover of thick, gray clouds. The only thing that was nice about it was the fact that it was small, which hopefully meant safer, and warm. The warmth was only a small comfort in comparison to the sunshine that I missed with all of my heart. I hadn't realized how much I would miss the blistering heat until it was taken from me. I had never been one to tan, I often wore a slight sunburn on my pale skin, so it wasn't as though I spent all of my time out in the sun. I simply missed the little bit that I had exposed myself to.
"You should probably go shower and get ready for bed." I told her, glancing at the clock that sat on top of a half unpacked cardboard box. It was after nine-thirty and I planned on both of us going to school the morning after.
"I'm not tired." She argued, almost reflexively.
"I know you're not. I'm not either. Although, if you don't go to bed, you will be exhausted tomorrow." I gave her a pointed look. She seemed suddenly out of things to say as she nodded, turned around, and then stalked up the stairs and to her bedroom. As soon as she was gone, I began turning lamps off around our new living room.
The new house was just so incredibly different. The living room was a big scattered and smaller than what I was used to. Renee didn't know how to match furniture, and so we had a bright orange couch to match a polka-dot purple chair and then a flowery loveseat. There was a rug on the floor and a giant chest set as the coffee table. Renee had already managed to stack up piles of crafting magazines and tabloids, and unopened bills on the small table. I walked over to straighten them up, observing the room around me as I did so.
The walls were white and the window looked out towards the yellow house next door. I thought about how colorful the neighborhood was. I had seen glass houses, brick houses, turquoise houses, and we moved into a fading red house that sat beside a bright yellow one. Renee had covered the living room walls with her bright, random paintings and the mantle had photos of Clara, Phoebe, and I all over it. I ignored the many different school pictures staring back at me and quickly went to shut off the final light. It didn't take long for me to grow sick of different rooms in the house.
I quietly stalked up the stairs and to my own room. The house only had two actual bedrooms, so we turned the attic into a third. Renee hadn't given a second thought to donating everything that would be kept in an attic to charity. Anything from my childhood and my father's life – it was all gone. I was completely out of it as I walked through the halls and got to the ladder that lead up to my room. I climbed up it and gently pushed the door to the side, cringing at the groan that resounded from the unused hinges.
The room wasn't very big, but it was still big enough for me. I thought that it looked cool. I was in the roof of the house, where the top of it met in a triangular shape. My walls and ceiling were one, making my room into the shape of a pyramid. It was all a sandy, beige color and the carpet on the floor was blood red. My bed was in the center of the room, it was full-sized and took up most of the space. I would have felt claustrophobic if it weren't for the single window on the south wall, opposite of the entrance. I walked across the room, stopping to turn on the lamp beside my bed, and to the window. It took a bit of strength, but I was able to push the window up and open.
The cooling rain blew in, splattering against my face. It had been warm when we first got there, but the warmth left with the sun at night. I didn't let myself stand there for long. I had to set an outfit out for the next day and then get to bed. I kept things simple with a pair of jean shorts and a blue t-shirt. I was already in sweats and ready to go to bed, wanting nothing more than to sleep my troubles away.
As if, my inner self laughed at the idea of simply being able to sleep off all of life's problems.
With my room completely cooled down, I climbed into the bed and covered up with my thick quilt. Being in the attic, I was closest to the roof and the pounding of the rain was relentless. I ended up wrapping my pillow around my head in hopes to muffle the obnoxious noise. I hated the sound of rain too much. My lungs let out a scream of frustration before I began to crack, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes. I knew that I was being too loud, but I also knew that I was too far away from Clara, Phoebe, and Mom to be heard.
Eventually I fell asleep, my breakdown not subsiding for my dreams. Instead, I found myself in a familiar place. It was raining, unsurprisingly, and dark. I knew this memory all too well and it was one that came to me every night. I was never able to wake myself up though, despite recognizing that I was having a nightmare. Instead, my dream self ran around lost and scared, constantly building up to that same moment of terror.
"Dad!" I screamed into the rain, barely hearing my own voice. "Dad! Where are you?"
"Your daddy ain't coming, princess." The predator's voice hissed at me. "You may as well give up now."
"I can't give up! I promised I wouldn't give up!" I shouted, my tone off. My voice had a pleading undertone. I was begging for someone, anyone, to save me. I was begging the man to stay away from me. I was begging for safety.
I was begging to wake up.
"Stay away from me!" I spat at the man as his silhouette closed in on me, backing me into a tree. I looked around, only then noticing the fact that I was out in the middle of a forest. The monster's car was parked not too far off, I could see the headlights through the trees and rain. They cast strange shadows around us and placed a spotlight on me. I focused back on the danger in front of me. He was withing reach, but I kept my limbs to myself. "I said to back off! My father will be here any minute!"
"Your daddy can't help you now, princess." He hissed, reminding me of a snake preparing to attack its prey.
"I was just on the phone with him. The police have probably found my car now...now they're tracking you down. They'll find you!"
"You can tell yourself whatever makes you feel better, princ-"
"Stop calling me that!" I roared, my voice cracking.
"Oh, but isn't that what you are? With your fancy police chief father?" He snickered, pressing his body up against me. I was much shorter than him, and my face was squished in between his wet shirt and the bark of the tree. My lungs were heaving for air as he pushed harder, not giving me any room to breathe properly. Between that and my current panic, I was genuinely worried about passing out before he could knock me out.
"Please." I returned to begging. I already knew that he didn't hear me and that he didn't care.
"I said to shut the hell up!" He pulled back suddenly. I sucked in a gulp of air right as his large fist collided with my stomach. The action forced me to let out a strangled noise, knocking the air out of me. I couldn't get past the fact that he had never actually told me to shut up.
Just in time, my dad showed up. He was always too early or too late. Had he been a few more minutes, and I would have been dead. Had he been a few more seconds, and the attacker would have been too distracted for it to have mattered. But he showed up too early, every single time.
"Let the girl go and put your hands behind your head!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. I had never heard him so protective. Not even the time I was in the passenger seat during a ninety mile per hour car chase in Seattle. I had never been particularly close with my dad, but I had been close enough to love him and to know that he loved me to no end. "I said to-"
"Your dear old daddy really should know me better." The man whispered to me, pressing his calloused hand over my mouth. I tried to do what all of the girls in the movies did, bite his hand, but He was pushing so hard that the back of my head – despite my thick hair – was digging dangerously into th bark of the tree. I couldn't even move my jaw. I resorted to kicking my leg wildly, like a frantic horse, knowing that I was useless.
The man reached into his coat with his free hands and pulled out a pistol. My eyes widened as he laughed sadistically and turned it on my father. Dad couldn't shoot him with me standing so close to him. It would either go right through him, or he would miss and hit me because of the odd lighting. Before I could think much further than that, a loud pop rang from my attacker. He shook a bit with the kick of the gun, but his grip on me didn't falter.
I couldn't see my dad, I never could, but I could practically hear his body hit the cool forest floor. I knew, logically, that there was no way that I should have heard anything. Between the blaring downpour and my squealing like a pig, I couldn't even hear my own pulse pounding in my ears. I just knew that he had been shot though. I felt it in my heart. The man muttered something about how my dad was no longer factored into our equation and removed his hand. I didn't scream.
It was useless.
"That's what I thought." He laughed darkly, reaching up and grabbing at the collar of my shirt. When I realized that he had plans to do more than kill me, I began screeching again. My voice was hoarse and my throat felt as though each scream was tearing it into shreds, but I didn't stop because it was the only defense I had left.
I remembered my dad once telling me that if someone were holding a gun to your head, claiming that they would shoot you if you screamed, to scream anyway because you'd rather have them shoot you in front of people than take you where you're alone and do it. I suddenly understood his advice. All of his advice.
"Dad!" My flickered eyes opened.
My room was still a bit dark, it was just past dawn an the rain had lightened up a bit. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep though. I never went back to sleep. I swung my legs, which were exhausted from kicking them around all night, over and pushed myself up. I then proceeded to walk over and shove my window closed with a thud. I couldn't take the rain anymore and I needed to go and get ready for the school day.
Thankful that I had set my clothes out, I grabbed them and then climbed down the ladder to the hallway. There were already family pictures of Mom, Clara, Phoebe, and I hung up around the halls. Mom liked to have a professional take a new one every year. We all wore black shirts, jeans, and sat in an open field. She said that she liked how wearing the same clothes and being in the same setting displayed how much we had changed from year-to-year. My eyes landed on last year's and I found myself comparing it to this year's.
The picture was in black and white and it stuck out against the bright green walls. Mom had her arms wrapped around Clara and Phoebe, while I stood on the other side of Clara with our hands interlocked. I looked like two different people. The sixteen-year-old me couldn't have been smiling wider. Her eyes were shining and she seemed to be laughing. I couldn't remember what Clara had said, but I remember it being exactly what we all needed to look natural. I was a bit shorter and I hadn't filled in so much. I looked awkward and happy.
I could see the transformation from that one to the next. In the seventeenth, I had grown physically. My body filled out a bit, appearing a bit more curvy. I seemed more fragile somehow. My posture wasn't as straight and my arms were wrapped tightly in front of me. Clara wrapped her arm around my shoulders, holding me tightly to her. My mouth was shaped into a smile, but my eyes weren't shining like they did in the one before. They seemed almost blank, as if I were totally absent. A shiver ran up my spine as I stared at the photo. I hated it.
"Bella! Go shower! We're going to be late!" Clara stuck her head out of her door, making me jump ten feet in the air, and then slammed it behind her again.
I knew that we were far from being late but rushed to the shower anyway.
The shower itself wasn't a rush though. I never took a normal shower anymore. Either I hopped in and hopped out, clinging to reality and fighting the memories that flooded into my brain when I felt that I was being rained on. Then there were the days, days like that day, where I had just woken up from one of my nightmares. I could still feel the grime on my body, the sweat, the dirt, the rain...it felt as though it was caking, growing thicker an thicker until it suffocated me entirely. I spent the majority of the shower scrubbing my skin raw. When the water began to run cold, I felt as though I had woken up again. I quickly shaved, scrubbed my hair, conditioned, and then hopped out.
I tried to avoid the big mirror in front of me and the one on the back of the door as I dried off. I was a pale girl and I stood out against the black walls. I could see the different places where I had clawed at my own skin, rubbing it red and raw. It didn't hurt anymore though. Not like the rest of me did. I slipped into my clothes, frowning when I realized how much skin I was exposing. It wasn't too much, for a normal person, but it felt like a lot and I knew that people would ask about the marks if they saw them.
I ran back to my room and grabbed my jacket. That was also where I applied a little bit of mascara and pulled my hair back with a headband. I didn't want to stand out at all, but I was also slightly appalled by my reflection without the little bit of makeup. I looked too much like I did when they first brought me home from the hospital. Too blank and empty.
When I felt ready to go downstairs, I made sure that my window was locked and I also made sure to lock my door on the way out. Clara was already dancing around the small, light turquoise kitchen. There was an island in the center, and that was where she was tossing the pancakes that she had been easily flipping on the skillet. I cautiously walked in and sat down in front of the plate. I was hungry, but not, at the same time.
"You look nice." Clara said over her shoulder. I looked nice in comparison to her. She looked stunning, as usual. She was dressed in a light blue, flowery sundress and flip-flops. Her blonde hair was loosely curled and pulled into a half-ponytail.
Clara and I really didn't look anything alike. She had been blessed with Mom's green eyes, tan skin, and sandy-blonde hair. I, on the other hand, had been cursed with our father's dark brown eyes and hair, and what appeared to be half-albino skin. The only thing that was similar about Clara and I was our build and the fact that we both had our father's facial structure. She pulled off the heart-shaped face better, her layers and bangs accenting it well. She was only fifteen and already plenty prettier than I.
"The boys will be all over you." I shot back, shaking my head. "You'll probably be homecoming queen before the day is over."
"Bella, homecoming isn't until October!" She winked and I rolled my eyes.
I stacked two of the pancakes onto a plate that had been stacked at the center of the island and grabbed the peanut butter jar. I had always ate my chocolate chip pancakes with peanut butter on them. It was something that I had picked up while spending the summer with my dad, something that Clara and Mom did not understand or try to like.
"Daddy, what're you doin'?" I gasped, watching with wide eyes as he smeared the thick peanut butter all over his pancakes. He was doing it all wrong! Mom always poured three swirls of syrup and smeared a single pad of butter on the top of my pancakes. He had broken enough rules by mixing chocolate chips in with the meal.
"I'm putting peanut butter on my pancakes, Bug." He shot me a cheesy grin before returning to his food.
"But y're suppos't to put s'rup on y're pancakes!" I explained, my three-year-old dialect not quite matured yet, and he laughed at me.
"Bella...you can eat your pancakes however you want to. If you like chocolate, then you can put chocolate chips in your pancakes. If you like bananas, you can cover them in bananas. Syrup or peanut butter...it's all up to you."
"That's silly." I commented, eying his plate worriedly. It seemed to me that he had lost his mind.
"Is it though? I mean, you're the one who has to eat your pancakes. Shouldn't what they taste like be up to you and you alone?"
"Nobody else eats p'nut butter on their pancakes." I let my chin rest in the palm of my hand, my brow furrowing as I tried to comprehend my father's advice.
"You can't just do things because everyone else does it, Bug. Do you think we'd have everything we have today if all of the scientists came up with ideas and then decided not to do them just because nobody else was doing it?" He asked me, looking me in the eyes. I still had no idea what he was trying to say, so I shrugged. He sighed, not really frustrated, but seeming to hit a wall. "Bella...your Mama...she's an artist."
"I know!" I rolled my eyes.
"Let me finish." He elbowed me playfully and I smiled, nodding quietly. "She's an artist. Now, she doesn't make a whole lot of money and you guys have to move a lot. Right?" I nodded. "And people sometimes say that maybe she should get another job, because she's not making enough and doing enough for you girls."
"I guess." I thought about how my Grandma Swan always scolded my mom. She always said stuff about how she needed to settle down and find a real job. I liked my mom's job – I liked her paintings and her brightness. It was her.
"But she doesn't. Why doesn't she?"
"B'cause she likes art." I told him and he nodded.
"And it's her life. She likes art, so she's an artist. In then end, all that matters is that your mama is happy with herself. It doesn't matter if your neighbors like her, or if my mother does...all that matters is that she loves you and she loves herself." He told me and I smiled, feeling the two stories click together into one.
"So...y're sayin' that I should eat whatev'r I want on my pancakes...b'cause they're mine and I'm the person who has t'eat them."
"Bingo!" His grin widened immensely. "I knew you'd get it, kiddo."
"Can I try diff'r'nt pancakes?"
"All the ones you want." He nodded and I reached out, pulling his plate to me with both hands. His brown eyes were amused as I used my fork to tear off a peace of his. I sucked in a deep breath before placing the bite in my mouth, grinning at the contrasting flavors. The chocolate and peanut butter reminded me of the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups that Mom gave me on occasion. "Well...what do you think?"
"I think I like p'nut butter on my choc'late pancakes!" I laughed, swallowing thickly and going for another bite. He playfully swiped his plate away and kissed me on the temple. We ended up spending the rest of the morning talking about all of the different things that I could do and change, just for myself, and sharing the plate of peanut butter and chocolate pancakes.
"Yoo-hoo! Anybody in there?" Clara waived her hand in front of my face.
"Of course." I swallowed, trying to breathe past the lump in my throat. I hadn't even taken a bit of the pancakes in front of me. I couldn't. "I'm not hungry this morning."
"Bella," Clara protested as I shoved my chair back. She was already more than half way into her meal. "Bella! You haven't eaten anything in a week. Just eat the pancakes."
"No." I shook my head, grabbed my backpack from where I left it by the door, and walked right outside. I ran through the drizzle and climbed into the front seat of Clara's Jeep.
While sitting there, I missed my truck more than ever. The Jeep was so small and fragile, and open. The truck, being over sixty years old, was strong and indestructible. Or so I had thought, before everything happened. My dad had bought it for me and gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday. It was really more of a tank than a truck, but it was mine and I loved the stupid thing. I did not, on the other hand, love Clara's little Jeep.
"Okay...I'm ready to go." Clara ran out and climbed into the passenger seat. "I just wish you would tell me why you do this. I never know what you're going to do next. Your mood swings are totally giving me a whip lash."
I never really told anybody about what happened that night. Obviously, they knew something happened. They knew that I had been taken out into the forest by that man, cornered, that Dad got shot, and that the man then proceeded to do the unthinkable to me. I simply chose not to talk about it. I had nothing to say. And a year later, I still didn't know what to say or how I was supposed to react. All I knew was that I felt empty and I felt as though I had really messed up.
I knew that I had really messed up.
Palm Coast was a small town. It was the smallest, aside from Forks, that I had ever lived in. There was barely three-thousand people residing in it and less than three hundred attending the high school. I dreaded that part. I hadn't made a single friend in four other towns. Not a single person wanted to be my friend in four schools that over thousands of kids attended. How was I supposed to find someone in a school with less than a fourth of that? The school was easy to find though, which was nice. It was right out of our neighborhood and off the highway.
"Home of the Titans!" Clara read the sign outside of the school, seeming to glow with school pride already. "We're Titans now, Bella!"
"I've been a Wildcat, a Raven, a Badger, and a Cardinal. I guess it's nice to be something other than an animal for once." I joked lightly and she smiled at me, happy to see me making an effort.
We were really early, that much was obvious. There were only a few other cars in the parking lot and I would put my money on them all belonging to staff. We parked up front and then ran into the front office. The tiny school was made up of several different buildings, one for each subject, and you had to run across a courtyard to get from class to class. It was easy to find the office, as it had the word 'OFFICE' written across it in big, black letters.
I couldn't believe that the office was warmer than it was outside. And muggier, somehow. There was a fan set up in the corner, probably acting as the only air conditioning in the entire building. Behind the front desk sat a pudgy, red-headed woman who looked way to excited to see us. She was practically bouncing out of her seat as I approached her. She also seemed overly prepared and pulled out two separate stacks of papers and books.
"You must be Isabella and Clarissa!" She clapped her hands together and I cringed.
"Bella and Clara." Clara corrected her, pointing at me when she said my name. "It's nice to meet you..." She leaned over to see the woman's name tag. "Mrs. Shelley Cope."
"Please, just call me Mrs. Cope." The woman winked and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
I watched as she explained our agendas, hall passes, and attendance slips. Because we were new, she wanted us to go to each of our teachers and get their signatures throughout the day. We were supposed to turn that back into her at the end of the day, proving that we made it around all right. I kept the fact that we were used to moving around and figuring out our way around to myself. Clara seemed to grow with the attention, her eyes glowing as she looked at her map of the school. I didn't point out that it was unnecessary, because the school was made up of one round commons area and buildings with their subject's names written on them.
If it took a map for us to figure our way around the school, then we were not meant to be in high school yet.
Mrs. Cope finally handed the stuff over and set us loose. Clara insisted that we walk around until the bell rang and classes started. She wanted to do a walk through of both of our schedules. I didn't protest because I didn't want to get stopped by one of the students who began trickling in for the day.
"Bella, this is your senior year! Act a little bit more excited." She nudged me and I looked down at her, seeing nothing but excitement and joy across her features.
"I'll try." I mumbled. I was trying. I was always trying.
"Well, that's the bell!" She held her things to her chest as a shrill bell rang throughout the courtyard. I backed away from her, wishing her good luck. I knew she didn't need it though. "You'll sit with me at lunch right?"
"If you haven't made friends to sit with yet, just use the code." I smiled impishly. We had joked about her running up and saying 'the duck flies at midnight!' to avoid saying that she hadn't actually made any friends yet. I knew that I wasn't going to have anyone to sit with, but I wasn't going to force myself on her if she was coming out of the day successful. Clara was good at being popular. Everyone loved her before they even spoke to her.
We both stood there through another beat of silence before turning to head to our first classes. I had English first and I was dreading it. I had always loved literature, reading was my favorite thing to do. I was stuck between fearing my first class at a new school and worrying about the fact that they only had one, regular English class for everyone. I had been in all of the Advanced Placement English courses in my former schools. As I quietly entered and handed Mr. Mason my flip, I tried not to sulk too much and went to take a seat in the back.
The teacher handed out a syllabus for the year after the room filled up. I read over it, frowning when I realized that I had several of the books in my backpack already. Only I was re-reading them for fun. Shakespeare, Austen...they were all things that I had read and re-read many times. Mr. Mason passed out Romeo and Juliet, I declined and showed him my own, before the class read the first section silently. I had already read it many times and started filling out the packet that we were going to work on while we read through out the quarter. I finished the packet before most of the class had finished their reading.
"You've read the material?" Mr. Mason whispered after walking over to my desk. His brow was pinched together as he flipped through my extremely thorough assignment.
"It's a favorite of mine, really." I mumbled, my cheeks flushing as several heads turned to look at me.
"Were you in an advanced class at your previous school?"
I nodded.
"Is there anything on this list that you haven't read already?"
I began shaking my head and he sighed.
"You're in for an easy year then, Miss Swan. Try to bring other homework to work on once the year gets going." He suggested and I nodded, watching as he retreated to his desk. Once he sat down and went back to his own things, I folded my arms on top of my desk and put my head down.
The rest of the class came to a stopping point about ten minutes before the bell rang. They began talking, grouping together in their few small cliques. I watched them. They all seemed excited to catch up after summer break, although I knew that they had all probably seen each other almost every day. There was no way that you could avoid someone, even in the summertime, in Palm Coast. It was too small.
"Hi! I'm Emmett!" One of the bigger guys was suddenly standing over me. I felt my eyes widen. He had to be several inches past six feet tall, and he was built like a body-builder. His dark, curly hair made his baby blue eyes shine. I waived awkwardly up at him. "Baby, you're so pretty that you made me forget my pick-up line!"
"Um..." I began, feeling flustered. Was he joking? Nobody had ever been so forward with me. I hadn't ever had someone use a pickup line on me either.
"Are you a parking ticket, baby? Because you've got fine written all over you!" He winked before I could respond. "I mean, are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only 'ten' I see!"
"Emmett McCarty! Don't scare the poor girl off!" A blonde appeared at his side. She looked more like the kind of person that he would be flirting with. Leggy, bright red lips, strangely violet eyes, and shoulder-length, naturally blonde hair. She was raising her eyebrows at who she had called Emmett.
"I'm not! I'm being nice." He argued. The exchange reminded me of a boy and his mother.
"I don't think she wants to listen to your stupid pickup lines. None of us do!"
"Do you like my pickup lines?" He turned to me and my cheeks turned bright red. I felt like I was walking right into a trap. How the hell was I supposed to answer it? They were flattering, but I was used to finding out that pickup lines were meaningless way to flirt with people that you don't really care about. I didn't want to end up on Blondie's bad side either. She looked like just the kind of person that one wouldn't want to antagonize.
"You're scaring her." Blondie hummed and Emmett scowled.
"Hey. If you were a booger, I'd pick you first!" Emmett turned to me, pointing his fingers at me and smiling widely again. I couldn't fight the giggle that exploded from my lips at that. There was no ignoring the fact that he was funny, if nothing else. "Where are you from, sugar? Wait! No! Let me guess. You're an angel, from heaven, right?"
"I'm actually from Los Angeles..." I informed him quietly. "I lived in Jacksonville, Pheonix, and Galveston before that, too."
"L.A.? How are you so white then?" He asked me, his face puzzled. I couldn't figure out if he was joking or not. I almost told him that I was part Albino, but held my tongue and shrugged.
"Oh my God, Emmett. You can't just ask people why they're white!" Blondie scolded in a mocking tone. I recognized the Mean Girls quote immediately and sniggered. She turned to me, flashing me what could potentially be a million-dollar smile. "You like Mean Girls?"
"I love that movie." I spoke softly, nodding at her. Clara and I watched it plenty of times growing up.
"What's your name?" She asked me then and I sighed, glancing at the clock. There was less than a minute before the bell was going to ring. I stood up, awkwardly tossing my backpack over my shoulder and pushing my chair in. I stood very short, at only five-foot-four next to them. Blondie couldn't have been less than five inches taller than me.
"I'm Bella. Bella Swan."
"I'm Rosalie Hale." She shook my hand, her grip firm. "This buffoon that has been flirting with you? He's my boyfriend, Emmett McCarty."
"B-boyfriend?" I stuttered, realizing that I had openly smiled as her boyfriend shamelessly hit on me. She was probably going to invite me out back to kill me. I should have known.
"Don't worry. His dad taught taught him that he had to flirt to make friends with people. He flirts with the male teachers when he wants a good grade. I've learned to ignore it. If I were you, I'd start ignoring it now." She pointed out and I only grew redder.
Of course he was only flirting with me because he was socially inept. I should have known better than to think that a guy would like me based off of one look. It was stupid of me to play along. I felt like a real idiot, standing there in front of the two of them. The bell rang, saving me from having to converse with them any longer.
"Don't take it personally. Really." Rosalie added, personally pouring what little self-esteem I had left down the drain. I didn't respond, but rather ran around them and made a bee-line for the door. I had government next and I needed to get going if I was going to make it across the school in three minutes. I also needed to get as far away from the couple as physically possible as quickly as I could.
Once I was in the commons and almost running to my class, I heard someone calling from behind me. I assumed, at first, that they were calling for a different Bella. My name had never been common, but it was far from uncommon as well. It was when a hand grabbed the top of my backpack and yanked me back, pulling me all the way to the floor as they did so, that I came to the conclusion that they had definitely been looking for me.
"Oh! Shit! I'm so sorry!" I recognized Emmett's voice as he stepped around and stood in front of me, holding his hand out to me. I took it, knowing that I wouldn't have been able to pull both myself and my heavy backpack up on my own. "I didn't mean to knock you down. I'm like the freaking Hulk. I tend to underestimate my own strength."
"Don't worry about it." I muttered, attempting to run past him and forget the fact that he had been chasing me down.
"Whoa! Not so fast!" He ran up to me, easily out-running me, and kept up a slow pace beside me. "Can we talk?"
"I don't really think it's necessary. I pretty much got the message back in Mr. Mason's class." I told him, fuming on the inside. I was no longer hurt, but rather pissed. He had no right to make me feel like such an idiot. I wondered if a Vitamin D deficiency could cause denseness in people. He was definitely lacking that nutrient, if that were the case.
"Hey. Stop." He jumped in front of me, steering me towards the lockers outside of Mr. Jefferson's Government room. "Rosie didn't mean it that way. Really."
"Mean what?" I played dumb. No need to let him in on how much I had read into that situation.
"You know what I mean. I know you're smart. You finished the whole quarter project in twenty minutes."
"At my old school, I was strictly average. You guys just lack resources and opportunity." I told him before trying to side-step him. He easily landed in front of me again. "Can't you just leave me alone? Please? I just want to get through the day without being humiliated again."
"Rosie didn't mean it that way!" He restated, clearly lacking the vocabulary to say anything else. I rolled my eyes, making him sigh with exasperation. "I do flirt with a lot of people, but I don't flirt with teachers. Or guys, really. Just people who I want to be friends with. I was trying to make friends with you."
"You don't know girls. I know first hand that a girl wouldn't say something like that without meaning it exactly the way that I interpreted it. Didn't you read Girl Talk 101?" I asked sarcastically, causing him to let out a booming round of laughter.
"You're funny, Swan. But no. Rosie isn't like that. She's got definite social issues...but she's not manipulative. Not without a good reason, I mean."
"And her boyfriend hitting on a stranger isn't a good enough reason?"
"Not with me. I flirt with all the pretty girls." He shrugged and then his nonchalant attitude transformed into a more honest grin. "Actually...I told her before I even went over to talk to you what I was going to do. We noticed that you looked a little blue, outside of your outfit, and I wanted to cheer you up."
"So...you were flirting with me out of pity?" I quirked an eyebrow at him and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. He immediately began stammering, recognizing it as a trick question when it came to him. I laughed and shook my head at him. "Jeez. Calm down. I'm joking."
"So, we're cool?"
"Yeah...we're cool. Don't worry." I answered after a beat of silence.
"Are we friends now?" He asked then and I couldn't help but smile shyly up at him. I didn't answer him though. I figured I'd wait to call him a friend. Wait until he showed that he actually wanted to be friends, and not just acquaintances.
"Emmett!" Another male voice shouted then. I looked over my shoulder to see a lanky blond boy making his way over to us. He had wavy, honey-blond hair and a crooked smile that could make any girl swoon. And he was tall. Taller than the giant that stood in front of me. When he got over to us, he didn't acknowledge me, but rather greeted his friend. "What's up man? It's been what, three days since we've seen each other?"
I watched him as they conversed. Aside from his loud greeting, he seemed much quieter than Emmett. He wasn't all shouts and laughs. His eyes were that same strange purple color that Rosalie's were. Only Rosalie's were much harder than his. He seemed much more laid-back and chill than the other two that I had met. When he glanced at me, still animatedly telling Emmett some story about his first class, I stared awkwardly at him. I didn't know what to do or where to go.
"Bella! This is Jasper. A good buddy of mine. Jasper, this is Bella. I met her in English." Emmett wrapped his giant arm around my shoulders and squeezed me into his side. "She's my homie-gangster!"
"Homie-gangster, eh?" Jasper asked and I laughed. "I've already been replaced...it's only second period!"
"Sorry, man. Either you've got it or you don't!" Emmett pulled me into the classroom with him, letting Jasper follow us. "And Bella Blue here has got it!"
"Emmett. Welcome back." The teacher greeted him unenthusiastically. I parted from Emmett and went up to the desk, handing him my slip and having him sign it. I then followed the two boys, who had waited patiently behind me, to the back of the room.
I felt better already, listening to Jasper and Emmett tell me about their summer. Rosalie's name, along with a few others, came up several times during their stories. I was surprised when I learned that Emmett had met Jasper only a few months before, during the summer break. They had come off as long time friends. Rosalie, according to them, transferred to Forks when she was thirteen. She was from Rochester and her cousin, Jasper, had lived in Corpus Christi. When he moved there, she quickly introduced all of them. Jasper introduced the two of them to his first friend of Palm Coast, a pretty girl who had lived all around the world, and they all spent the summer together.
At least I wasn't really the only new one.
"So, what all are you signing up for, Bella? Any sports or activities?" Jasper asked me, looking curious as their stories came to an end.
"Well, I'm in band. I have that seventh period. I'm also going to a meeting for the school paper after school. I like to write and my sister told me that I should go for it. Something about making friends." I babbled, feeling silly as I explained my reasoning to the boys.
"Hey! I'm in band and I'm the editor of the paper this year." Jasper nudged me with his elbow.
"How? Didn't you just move here?"
"Nobody wanted the position. I went and talked to the teacher before school and he agreed to give it to me. I was Editor in Chief at my other school, and I was only a junior then." He shrugged and I nodded. It was nice to know that I already had an in. "What instrument do you play?"
"Well, I prefer the drums." I began and he nodded. "But I do play the flute, some clarinet, and a little bit of the trumpet. I even played the sax in a song once...not well, I guess. But it was something."
"Nice! Sounds like the band will be lucky to have you this year."
"Sure...maybe." I mumbled, unsure as to how I was supposed to take that compliment when he hadn't even heard me play.
"The other senior drummy is new too." He spoke up after a beat of awkward silence, saving me from sinking even further into my awkwardness. "I haven't met him yet, but the girls in my first period were talking about him. Apparently he's a real heartthrob."
"That's just fantastic." I huffed and he burst out laughing.
"Don't judge him before you meet him!" Emmett added, probably feeling excluded from the conversation. "After all, I'm a total hottie and we're friends now."
"Right. How could I forget." I winked and they both laughed.
When the class ended, I followed Jasper to my Trigonometry class. I was happy to know that we had it together. He animatedly told me about how his girlfriend, Alice, was in the same class. I was interested in finding out who this girl was. He was over the moon about her, telling me everything that he knew. She was already waiting outside of Mr. Varner's classroom when we arrived, and I knew who she was just by looking at the girl.
She was very small, probably two inches shorter than myself, and very pixie-like. Her hair was short and jet black, her eyes a light gray. They almost looked silver. She was dressed in a flowy skirt that reached the floor, but was a bit shorter in the front. Her shirt consisted of a corset type vest and lots of accessories. Her entire look just screamed 'I've lived all around the world!' I smiled awkwardly at her and she waived at me before jumping over to her boyfriend, having him lean down and kiss her. When they broke apart, she danced over to me, holding her small hand out to me. Her wrist was draped with colorful bangles and her fingers were clad in different rings. She reminded me of a ray of sunshine.
"I'm Alice Brandon! You're Bella Swan?"
"How'd you-"
"I'm psychic!" She answered before I could even finish. Jasper gave her a disapproving look and she giggled at him. When she turned to look at me, her face was a bit more calm. "Actually, Jasper texted me saying that he found a new friend for us."
"You make it sound like you guys are some sort of gang." I commented slowly.
"You think Emmett was kidding when he called you his gangster?" Jasper asked me, and I almost didn't catch the sarcasm in his tone.
"Well...I think we should get started on the initiation if this is going to happen. I don't have all day." I popped my knuckles jokingly. They both laughed and I smiled at the positive response.
"I like her, Jazz!"
"Right?" He pulled the door open and held it for us, letting us walk in ahead of him.
I wasn't surprised when Trig was awful. The teacher wanted to start the semester immediately, and dove right into the curriculum. I had never been gifted in math and knew that it was going to take a little bit more effort to keep up for the year. I felt better though, knowing that I had Alice and Jasper at my side all the time.
"What do you have next?" Alice asked me when the bell rang and I checked my schedule. I groaned when I saw that I had Spanish.
"Spanish 5." I told her and she squealed, forcing me to cover my ears. When she stopped, I slowly pulled my hands away and grimaced. "I don't know why you're so happy that I have Spanish..."
"I have Spanish with you!" She laughed and I nodded, my brow furrowing. "The best part is that I'm already fluent. You already have a personal tutor!"
"Let's go then. Before we're late on the first day." I told her while backing down the hallway.
"You're taking that weird, Friendship Club class?" Alice was observing my schedule as Spanish finished up.
"It's not weird." I told her, almost feeling annoyed. "If I plan on being a doctor for the mentally ill, then I need to begin working with the disabled now. I want to help."
"That's such and odd job. Don't you have to go to school forever, too? I want to be a fashion designer though...so I don't really have any room to speak, do I?" She asked me and I shook my head, smiling at her. She didn't understand, but she wasn't going to try and talk me into being something else, so I kept my thoughts to myself.
"Bella...hello?" She was suddenly waiving her hand in front of my face.
"I'm sorry?" I whispered, feeling confused.
"You should put your stuff up. The bell's about to ring." She glanced at the clock above our teacher's desk. "You're going to sit with me at lunch, right?" She asked excitedly, jumping from topic to topic with ease. I shrugged and she took that as a no. "Please! Oh, pretty please? I like Rose, but I want to be your friend too! I can just see it now! The three of us. We'll be-"
"Okay. I will sit with you if that's what you want." I huffed and her smile seemed to widen.
"Fantastic!"
The bell rang and Alice flew out the door, disappearing into the sea of students out in the hallway. I quietly packed my things away and prepared to go to my next class. I had Friendship Club and felt a new type of anxiety take over. I was afraid that it was going to turn out to be the wrong class for me, afraid that I was going to be bad at it. I was afraid that I wouldn't be enough for the kids that I was going to help and that made me want to stay where I was.
When a warning bell rang, I found myself running to the class anyway. As I got to the building, I prayed that the rest of the day would go at least half as good as the first half. Despite the fact that I had already made a few potential friends, I still was unsure of the school and what it was going to be like attending it.
Here goes nothing, I thought as the bell rang and I walked in right on time.
A/N: She'll be meeting Edward in the next chapter! I wanted to post this before going to bed tonight. It's been in my head for a while and I finally got things organized enough to start a story with it. I promise it will lighten up soon! So, you should review and let me know what you want from me! Let me know if you like it!