Lorelei
Summary: When seventeen year old Bela leaves Phoenix to live with his father in Forks. Washington, he meets an exquisitely handsome young man at school for whom he feels an overwhelmingly attraction and who he comes to realize isn't wholly human.
Disclaimer: Yep. Gay Twilight. I'm hoping to add a dark edge to it. Be orignal. Ah well, I am not a recipient of the Twilight franchise's millions. Neither am I owner of any originally based characters or original plot line. Stephenie Meyer is the sole creator.
Chapter one: My Start in Forks.
My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt- a white short sleeved GMTee with a poisonous fugu fish on the front, written on the back is ' the taste of death'; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on was a black Nylon N-3B Flight Jacket.
In the Olympic Peninsula of the northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town my mother escaped with me and my brother when we were only a few months old. It was in this town that we'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until we were fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down- I couldn't take going there anymore, these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with us in California for two weeks instead.
It was to Forks that I now exiled myself- an action that I took great horror. I detested Forks. But I couldn't stay in Phoenix anymore. Phoenix, the place I love. I love the sun and the blistering heat. I love the vigorous sprawling city and walking along the hot sands. Where I performed in a small band formed by my brother and I. There is also where I suffered from my stepfather's verbal harrassment. Phil has made it clear he doesn't approve of my sexual perference. My presence caused tension in our house. My brother argued with him in my defense. Renee torn between her sons and husband. It was my presence that caused division. So I did what had to be done. I decided to live with my father in Forks.
"Bela," my mom said to me- for the thousandth time- before I got on the plane-"You don't have to do this."
My mother...my brother and I resemble her. Except for our skin complexion and hair color. That we got from our father. I felt a spasm of panic as I stared at her wide, childlike gray eyes. The eyes we've inherited from her. It's stupid to be afraid. Charlie is supportive of my lifestyle. He doesn't belittle me. Make me feel like some atrocity. No. He and my brother nearly broke Phil's neck last Thanksgiving. But I fear for my loving, erratic, hairbrained mother. I was more of Renee's caretaker than my brother. She couldn't fend for herself. I cooked, I cleaned, I gave a shoulder to cry on. My brother, Belloto, offered protection, level headedness, and wisdom. She left my father, but still had him in that way. We were our father split in two. Although, some say they see more of her in me. But now that's all changed. She has Phil now. Belloto is there, so the two can make sure the bills will be paid, car gassed up, and have someone when she gets lost. Still...Renee is my mother. I feel Phil ripped her away from me the day he proposed.
"I want to go," I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, but I'd been saying it enough times that it sounds convincing.
"Tell Charlie I said hi."
"Kay."
"I'll see you soon. You know that's why Bell didn't come. He knows this isn't goodbye. You'll be back and everything will be back to normal. A good normal," she insisted. " You can come home whenever you want- I'll come get you. "
She knew this wasn't going to happen. The sacrifice in her eyes made my throat constrict.
"Don't worry about me," I urged. "Bell's there. You have Phil. You have Autumn! She'll be talking soon...I love you, Mom."
She hugged me tightly. Her head burried in the nook of my neck. I rubbed her back, soothingly. Chewing my lower lip- mindful of the metal ring in the corner. I pulled away, kissed her cheek, and then got on the plane, and she was gone.
It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. I felt the connecting cord I had with my brother break. He was begging me to stay. My minute older brother. We are identical twins that are extremely different. He's a heterosexual, skaterboy, with a brave heart and thick skin. I'm the gay, Emo, with a weak backbone. For if I were stronger, I'd be able to take the venomous words spewing out of Phil's mouth. He was more Charlie than me. He had an officer in the making spirit. He only started a band with me because we are best friends. Whenever I'd tell him I was okay with people not accepting me, he'd fly off the handle. Belloto's mantre was if you didn't accept me, then you wouldn't accept him. He always said he'd protect me. And believe me he has. Bell has bashed heads of people who treated me like garbage. He said he'd rather become a hermit than to live with asses who hated me.
I love my brother. I'd die for him in a heartbeat.
When the plane landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen- just as unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun.
Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Charlie is Police Chief Swan to the good folks of Forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be hauled around town in a car with red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop. Renee's had a share of tickets in the past so I know from personal experience.
Charlie gave me an one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane. Damn sleeping legs.
"It's good to see you, Bela," he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me. I had to tilt my neck back a little to look up at him. He's about an inch taller than me. "You haven't changed much. How's Renee, Belloto and Autumn?"
"They're good. Autumn's growing up nicely. Good to see you, too, Dad." Charlie doesn't ask about Phil. He hates the man, but has a soft spot for his and Renee's daughter, Autumn. I'll be missing out on her growth...
I had a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington. My mom, brother, and I had bought some things, but it still was scanty. It all fitted in the trunks cruiser.
"I found a good car for you. Really cheap," he announced when we strapped ourselves in. Oh for the love of...
"What kind of car we talking, Dad?" I have a right to be suspicious. My parents have a tendency to spend money on my brother and I. Spoiling us. Bell doesn't mind but I do. I choose to work hard myself to buy something extravagant. It's just my way.
"Well, it's a truck, actually, a Chevy. Do you remember Billy Black down in La Push?" La Push is the tiny Native American reservation along the coast. "Nope. Sorry."
He chuckled. "He used to go fishing with us during the summer," he prompted.
That would explain why I don't remember the guy. Charlie used to drag us on those trips when we were kids. Belloto hated fish, I hated fishing. Put two together and you've got angry little kids on your hands. At least I didn't pee in the lake.
"He's in a wheelchair now," Charlie continued when I didn't respond," so he can't drive anymore, and he offerered to sell me his truck cheap." I could tell by his expression Billy's paralysis is a sore topic. I chose to steer the conversation back to the truck. "What year is it?"
"Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine- it's only a few years old, really." His eyes darted over to me. Charlie knows better than to think I would give up that easily. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, saying," Stubborn as a mule. Billy bought it in '84, I think. He didn't buy it new, because it was new back in the early sixties...I think. Or late fifties at the earliest. But it runs great! They don't build 'em like that anymore, Bela. Trust me."
I don't have the money for a mechanic."How cheap is cheap?" It's possible it can work. Belloto's girlfriend's brother knows alot about cars. I can hit him up on some info. Charlie smiled, peeking sideways at me with a hopeful expression. "Well, son, I already bought it for you. A homecoming present." A free car? Wow. I turned my head towards him smiling, fully. "Thanks, Dad. You didn't need to do that. I was going to buy one myself." Plans of going half and half with my brother on one went out the window when I decided to leave. Charlie's cheeks burned a light shade of pink. He wasn't comfortable expressing his feeling. I didn't inherit it as much as Bell did. He looked straight ahead at the road.
"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here. I know how you feel about Forks...and the only reason you're stay is because of...Phil. I just want to make it a good stay for you," he murmured. Those words eased some of my suffering. I stared out at the drizzling rain being mopped up by the wipers. Forks can never be my ideal place. But it is bearable as long as he was here with me. The drive fell into comfortable silence. Charlie had an unspoken, calming air to him. He would stay up with me whenever I thought the ghost were in my room. He didn't lull me to sleep with lullabies or stories like most parents. He just stayed with me. His silence spoke loudly.
I couldn't deny that Forks is a beautiful place. Movie stars would spend millions to be surrounded by the lush forests, mountains and rivers. Everything was green: the trees, their barks covered in moss, their branches hanging canopies of it the ground covered in grass and ferns. Even the air smelt of it. Green. The color of an alien planet and Autumn's mashed peas. I respect her for resenting the gunk now.
Eventually, we made it to Charlie's. He grew up in the two story, three bedroom building. His parents passing it down to him from their will. Parked on the street in front of the house was my new- well new to me- truck. It was a fading red color, with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. To my my intense surprise as I stepped closer to the ancient relic, I found an instant love for it. I ran my finger along the cold, rough metal wondering would it really run. Gas would burn a hole in my wallet but I knew I could picture myself driving in it. Plus this was a solid iron truck. The kind you saw in those old movies that took half an hour to damage. This thing would destroy the cars today. "Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!" Two possitives in Forks is a miracle. Tomorrow will be less nerve wrecking. Wouldn't want to arrive to school as the first gay kid in a cruiser.
Charlie murmured, gruffly that he was pleased I did. His cheeks a darkening red.
It took one trip to unload the car. I got the west west bedroom that faced the front yard. Belloto's was across from mine. This all to familiar room had belonged to me when I was born. It was Charlie's late younger brother's- whom died of cancer when I was a baby. The wooden floors, light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the solid white curtains around the only window in the room. Charlie exchanged the child sized bed for a full sized one and placed a desk across from it. I told him not to worry about a computer- I brought my laptop. He said he signed on to Comcast's X-finity for me. Charlie's not a computer guy. By my bed was a rocking chair. I remember Renee saying she would rock Belloto and I to sleep when they were still married.
There was two bathrooms. Charlie had one connected to his bedroom. A small one was just down the hall.
Charlie isn't a hoverer like Renee. I was free to unpack and get settled, a feat that would have been altogether impossible with Renee. Still, it was odd to be alone. My near mirror image wasn't in the house. I wanted to text him or call him, but resisted. Bell shouldn't have to worry about me. I stood at the window, staring dejectedly out at the sheeting rain. A storm was coming. I'm not talking about the one brewing outside. I'm talking about the one coming in the building of Forks High School. A school with a three hundred and fifty-seven- now eight- students; there were more than seven hundred people in my junior class alone back home. All these kids grew up together here- theyr're grandparents probably has been together since they were blattering toddlers! A close webbing. I am the fly who got caught.
I would be the new boy from the big city, an eccentrically dressed curiosity. A freak to those who look down on the homosexual community.
Maybe if I looked like I actually came from Phoenix, I'd hav some luck. But I don't have that advantage. I should be tanned like my mother and half sister. Sporty, blond- a surfer or volleyball champion, perhaps- all these things go with the dwellers closest to the sun. Belloto is these things. His untanned skin is outshine by his athletic skills. I play basketball but I'm far from good. Decent. Always decent. Decent soccer player, decent hockey player, decent baseball player- though we stopped on account of Phil's badgering- and a decent swimmer. Decent. The only way I excell is by singing. Put me on stage with my piano or guitar and I feel like a god. I take wing and soar above the heavens, pouring my heart in whatever I sing. But when it ends, I'm mortal, again. No, I don't have the luxury of being a true Phoenix dweller.
Instead, I was born ivory skinned. Teal gray eyes and Charlie's dark brown hair. I'm lanky, subtly muscular. I choose to dress Emo not to subject myself to misery but to wear what interests me. I'm pierced- five in the ears, one in the mouth, and another in a eyebrow- and I am inked. I wear eye makeup and highlight my hair bold colors. I show I am different. People talk about me and it hurts, but now that I'm on my own I have to persevere. I HAVE to be strong.
When I finished putting my things away in the old pine dresser, I took my bag of bathroom necessities and went to freshen up. I looked at my face in the mirror as I combed through my dark hair highlighted with mahogany and thin sectionals of a lighter red. It wasn't to light to stand out alone- it asscented the mahogany and dark brown in the light softly. I'm my own hair stylist. My hair is jaw length and naturally wavy. Straightening and using products to keep it that way was dire to achieving the style I wanted. My skin is unblemished- nothing marring it. Girls come up to me at times wondering what I use. I find it embarrassing. Unlike Belloto, my skin is near translucent looking. He doesn't suffer the humiliating blush like Charlie and I. Renee gushes over it.
Facing my pallid, non-makeup face I sighed. Music is my only thread of common ground with people. Be they gay or nongay, I am an enigma. I don't relate to people. Not even my twin. I see us as close but I know that he can go off and face the world alone. Me? I feel stuck. Afraid maybe. He has his goals set and works to accomplish them. I'm not certain what my goals are. I don't feel like I'm in a maze. A maze means you have many directions. I'm in a box. I want to get out but I don't. I want to be around others then I don't want to be. I've dated a couple of times but have ended it on an unamed stand. The only thing I'm sure of is that I WANT. What is the problem. If I couldn't figure it out around three thousands students in one school, how on earth could I here =? Sometimes I wonder if there's a glitch in my brain. Is there a reason why I see things differently than the rest of the world. But it doesn't matter. All that mattered was the effect. And tomorrow would be just the beginning.
I didn't sleep well. Charlie checked up on me. Caught me crying. He stayed by my side until I fell asleep. A fitful sleep it was. Rain patters is annoying. I fell asleep after midnight when the whooshing wind and loud rain ended. My room wasn't lit by bright morning's light. Thick fog was all I could see through the window. Claustrophobia seeping in. You can never see the sky here. I wondered if the birds feel as caged as I do? Do the wild animals feel this way, too? If you can't see the blue of the sky; how do you know if the clouds aren't planning to encage us all forever and ever. Like Silent Hill. Once you enter, you may never leave. Hmph. At least there aren't any monsters lurking in every twist and turn. Death by murder in Forks is as unlikely as pigs flying.
Breakfast was a quiet event. Charlie didn't mention my crying to which I'm thankful. Renee wouldn't let up on something like that. Belloto would give me the sympathetic eyes. Charlie? He patted my shoulder and let me be. If I wanted to talk, he'd listen. If I don't, he'll respect that. He wished me good luck at school. I thanked him and saw him off- his hours are early.
I was dressed. A outfit fitting the weather. Black janitor's shirt I bought off the school's custodian. I stiched in the name Lorelei in the embroided nametag. Lorelei is my stage name. Taken after my German ancestry on my mother's side. I have been told my voice lures you. I've packed small bars, parties, and fund raisers with it. Belloto gave me that name after someone called me a siren. Lorelei is the German siren. The legend states that the siren was originally a woman named Lorelei- a beautiful young maiden- that threw herself into the river because of a faithless lover. Upon her death she transformed into a siren and could from then on be heard singing from time to time on a rock along the Rhine River. Her hypnotic music lured sailors to their deaths- just like any other siren. There's a poem written about her. I actually sang it.
Under the janitor's shirt is my white thermal shirt. I wore skinny black jeans, a black, silver pyramid stud belt and Japanese imported black snake rubber shoes with a 24 cm. ink on the left side of my neck poked out around the left side, but it was fine. I had my usual sterling silver hoops in my ears, ball point eyebrow-ring, and hoop lip ring. Black eyeshadow around my upper and lower lids, with liner. My hair is combed back, a faux hawk rising in the middle. Weather's a big deal. I knew what products to buy and what measurements to take in rain. I grabbed my jacket and navy backpack, heading off to my truck. From the fireplace in the family room, a series of photos decorated it. First was a wedding picture of Charlie and Renee in Las Vegas, then one in the hospital when Belloto and I were born- taken by a nurse, followed by the procession of school photos of my brother and I up to last year. They were funny to see. You couldn't tell us apart until seventh grade. My fashion taste becoming rockerish-punkish-and gothish. Belloto's taste rockerish-boyish-skater. This house was a musuem. The color cordination and interior designing all redone by my mother when they were married so many years ago. He hasn't gotten over her. He's still young. Dad should move on like she did, but I guess her moving on is a testament that he was the only one truly in love.
I left the musuem. It was drizzling out. I locked the door and pocketed the keys in my right front jeans. The feel of sloshing water underneath my feet was odd. I miss the sound of gravel as I walked. You start to appreciate the little things once they're gone. I couldn't pause and admire my truck like I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out the misty wet that swirled around my head and clung to my hair underneath my hood.
Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Billy or Charlie- or somebody- cleaned it, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled of gasoline, tabacco, pepperment and Old engine started to my relief, but to my embarrassment it was thunderously loud. Roaring to life then idling at a top volume. Lorelei's truck is a monster. But hey, a truck this is old is bound to have some flaws. It's the beloved old man who talks for hours on end. Stopping only when he nods off...or in this case parks. The antique radio worked, a plus I didn't expect. Nothing really appealed to me, so I flipped it onto a classical station. Little Fugue in G Minor played. A fitting piece for today I suppose. It sounds like the soundtrack of a small critter off on an adventure. And on an adventure was I. My destination wasn't hard to find, though I've never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It wasn't obvious that it was a school; only a sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made me stop. Right when the melody reached it's climatic end. Like I just conquered an enemy. The school looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-colored brinks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see it's size at first. Lacking was the feeling of an institution. Where was the chain linked fences, the metal detectors, the secrurity yelling for students to get inside? This school felt like I was visiting a friends place. Students lingered in the lot. Some sitting on cars. Others making their way to the building. Gone was the loud ramblings. No, these kids were loud. Just not city loud I should say. I circled the lot, parking in a space beside some beat up van and truck. Thankfully, my car isn't the only one fresh out of the retirement home. Some kids were lingering beside the van. They jumped when my monsters gave out an exhuasted roar. It'll get used to working again.
I climbed out. Luckily, not landing in a puddle. The students' eyes burned me. A nasally female voice said, "Nice ride." I didn't catch who said it. Just murmured a thanks and headed to the building with a sign over the doors reading, FRONT OFFICE. Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if greenery is an addiction here. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full to the brim with papers and brightly colored flyers tapped on it's front. Isn't this all a fire hazard?
There were desks behind the counter, one of which manned by a large, red haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing a purple T-shirt with hand designed daisies on them. Her nameplate read Ms. Cope. Cope? That name sounds so familiar. She looked up. Her eyes scrutinizing my face. A twinkle in her magnified brown eyes. " Bela? Bela Mieris Swan?" she said rising from her chair. I am the only new student here.I was expecting to be the topic of gossip around town. Charlie hasn't told anyone I am gay, I know. But he speaks of my brother and I to others, no doubt. And here I am. One of the sons of the Chief's flighty ex-wife come home at last. "Yes, ma'am. I'm here to get my scheduel." Ms. Cope frowned at me. "Don't you remember me? Miss Shelly?" she prompted. A barage of memories of my father dropping off little Belloto and I to a thinner Ms. Cope flashed through my mind. Miss Shelly! I grinned at her. "Miss Shelly! I almost forgot," I laughed.
Charlie wasn't the Chief yet when we were younger, he was a deputy. He would be called early to work or just had to leave for it, and left of in the care of our favorite babysitter, Miss Shelly. She was our favorite care taker. Watching cartoons with us, baking cookies, cakes or pies, coloring with us, or letting us read to her- we insisted. I loved going to her house.
She came around the counter and hugged me. "Charlie told me you were coming to live with him! Look at you, you're a handsome fellow. You kids and your fashions. Wow! You're tall, too," she laughed. I smiled down at her. I'm five foot, ten but the shoes gave a little lift. She led me behind the counter printing out my schedule and taking a photo for my school ID. I laughed and chatted with her about what my brother and I been up to. She smiled sweetly at the mentioning of our half sister. Saying how pleased she is to know we are caring older brothers. "Bela, Charlie didn't say...and I don't mean to pry but...why are you really here. It's more than just a sudden urge to live with you father, isn't it?"
I fiddled with an inkpen on the end of her desk. True I love Miss Shelly but would she be okay with my discovered perferance. I glanced in her eyes. They were curious but greatly worried. I blew out a loud sigh. Grabbing a blank sheet of paper I wrote the three words, then folded it and handed it to her. She glanced at the paper, frowning. "Did Renee kick you out?" she demanded. Joy fluttered in my knotted stomach. Another person who didn't care. "No Miss Shelly. My mom's not like that," I replied. "Neither is Belloto." She was silent for a moment.
"What about your stepfather?"
I quickly looked away. Phil didn't physically hurt me. Just mentally. Renee loves him and gave birth to her child. He was a providing father. The only bad thing was his views on homosexuals. "He's not so welcoming." Miss Shelly patted my clenched hand.
"Not many people are. Including this town, Bela. I'm not telling you to hide who you are. I'm just saying to only tell those you feel deep down in your heart that you can trust," she whispered. She handed me my schedule, a teacher's signature slip, and school map. "I've highlighted the best short routes to your classes so you don't get lost and be on time. But, honey. I want you to know something before you go off to class; I will never judge you. You're a sweet, kind, caring young man. Have been since you were a little boy. You can always come to me if you need anything," she squeezed my hand saying words straight from the heart. I blushed and smiled at her. "Thank you Miss Shelly. Bye." I stepped out the stuffy office. Inhaling the damp air, mentally dancing. Maybe I could do this. Maybe things will be alright here. Maybe Forks was the choice after all. So many maybe's...I need a definitly.
I walked, searching for this 'Building 3'. My head constantly bent looking over the map. The passing kids would watch me, whisper to themselves or others and go off to their classes. I was just passing a girl in her cheerleading uniform, when she quickly turned around, jogging to catch up with me. "You're Bela Swan? The new student here, hi. I'm Jessica Stanley. Co-captain of Forks' cheer squad," she introduced herself. This Jessica is shorter than me. Coming up to my chest. Her steps made her curly hair bounce. "Hi. Yeah, I'm Bela. Nice to meet you," I replied. Jessica began to tell me about the school- in the biased perspective of a student of course. Some things sounded over the top but others were believable. Teacher's secretly dating, bad cafeteria menus and greatest make out closet. She said goodbye to me when I made it to my first class. A motor mouthed girl. Something told me she was a gossiper. On the way here people gaped at us. She loved the attention. I'm guessing she just wanted to be seen with the new student, not actually help me.
The classroom was small. Low rows of hooks- some already holding coats- were inside the door. I slipped off mine and made my way fully in the room. The class was diverse. Students ranging from pale to dark brown. I found comfort in knowing my complexion wouldn't seem perculiar.
I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name- not an encouraging response- and looked me up and down. No one in this school seemed to dress like me. So it is asinine to worry about my complexion when in fact it is my fashion that got looks. Belloto isn't here. He would be standing beside me, unwavered by the gawking- I channeled his air and did the same. I hope. He sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It's hard to stare at a new classmate in the backrow. But these kids accomplished it. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic : Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. I'd already read everything. That was comforting...boring but comforting. I wonder if I can get Belloto to send me my folder of old essays without mom noticing. Belloto and I used to cheat sometimes. He'd pose as me for some classes and I him. Our handwriting was identical, too. So it was easy to fool people- well all but our mother. She knew us like the back of her own hand.
When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and oily black hair- puberty smackdown- leaned across the aisle to talk to me.
"You're Bela Swan, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type. The world works in mysterious ways. The nerdy look got you ridiculed in the past but now it's the most sought after. Talking to him wouldn't dampen my social status at all.
I nodded my head, humming an affirmitive. Students within a three seat radius turned to looked at me.
"Eric Yorke. Eyes and ears here- school journalist. Running an expose on your arrival. Got any comments on our school, yet," he asked. My cheeks flushed. I gripped the sides of my desk weakly pleaded with him to cancel it. I didn't want to be in papers. I didn't want the whole school, then probably the whole town knowing about me more than they have to. Eric pitied my near panic attack and promised it wouldn't be ran. I thanked him profusely.
"Where's your next class?" he asked.
I had to check in my bag. "Um, Government, with Jefferson- ironic- in building six." He chuckled agreeing with me. He offered to show me where it was since he had class in building four. I smiled tentatively and thanked him. We grabbed our coats and headed out into the rain. Our conversation light. Me telling him what Phoenix was like. Him wondering how different it was for me being here. I swear the people behind us were eavesdropping.
The rest of the morning passed the same as when I met Eric and Jessica. People asking who I was, me replying. Offers to walk to class, sit with at lunch, etc. Word got around that I talked to Jessica Stanley- so apparently, I was expected to sit at her table. After two classes, I began to recogonize several faces in each class. Girls were watching me, giggling or blushing. I didn't respond to it. Didn't encourage their hinted flirting. Guys eyed me warily. None of them my type. Well if I had a type that is. I've dated a preppy, gothic, comic geek, and regular guy before. These guys fell in the category of jocks, geeks, and regulars. None of which appealed to me. Jessica was in my last class, Trigonmetry. God I wish Belloto was here. I didn't really comprehend the leasson. Luckily, Jessica's ramblings eased away my frustrations. Well it is frustrating to have your ear chewed off but anything distraction was needed from the list of numbers. I didn't have to respond. Smile, nod or frown when the time came. I didn't bother focusing on her topics.
She led me to her table at lunch, where she and her friends sat at the end. I forgot some of their names. To many to keep up with. The other students looked on. I've been initiated into the 'Cool Group' by the looks of it. A varying group. Jocks, cheerleader, a school photographer and some regulars. From across the room I spotted Eric. He waved at me and I him.
"You've got an interesting look to you," the Cheerleading Captain, Lauren Mallory purred- but it sounded like a drunken nasally slur. I was sitting in between Jessica and a quiet girl- the photographer. Lauren, too, was in her uniform. Her to blonde hair swept in a side ponytail. Her beady fish eyes caked with blue eye shadow. I watched her lean closer to me, pushing her A cups. "Are Phoenix boys as sexy as you?" I choked on my lemonade. Jessica pounded my back to alleviate the clogging liquid. Lauren seemed to mistake my choking for being turned on. I was most definitely not. The photographer- bless her- changed the conversation. Something about an upcoming game.
Two jocks came over to the table. One, an African-American with cocoa skin and hazel eyes sat beside Lauren. His ceaser cut had designs on the left side carved in. The other, a caucasion baby faced, spiky blonde with sparkling blue eyes sat beside him. Both were in Forks' lettermen jackets. "Who's this?" the spiky blonde asked. He reached and took an apple off of Jessica's tray. She called him a thieving bastard then introduced me. He smiled at me telling me his and his friend's name. Mike Netwon and Tyler Crowley. They were pretty nice. Tyler asking me how I was liking small towns. He, too came from a big city. LA to be exact. I laughed at his jokes about this town being the birthplace of all albinos. Mike complimented my hair. He asked if I was any good at sports. I replied with a shrug saying I'm the less gifted twin. The conversation switched to my brother. They asked why he didn't come with me. I made up some story that we devised. He wasn't willing to stay in a cloudless 'hill billy' town just to spend more time with Charlie. I didn't like how this made him look like the bad guy, but Belloto persisted. He said it would be a believable story. People won't question it as much. Which they didn't. They all thought it was a touchy subject.
I finished my lemonade and fish sticks. Everyone was wrapped in their own conversation. It gave me a chance to sit back and unwind. Looking around the medium sized room. Then my eyes landed on them. They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. They weren't talking, not touching their fully stacked tray of food, and unlike the rest of the students- these kids weren't gawking my way. I stared safely knowing I wouldn't catch one looking at me. But the odd behavior and non-eatting isn't what got my attention.
They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys one was big- muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark hair cut short. Another was a tad taller, leaner, but still muscular and shaggy hney blond hair. The last was lanky, less bulky- but still bigger than me- with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like college students or even teachers.
The two girls were opposites. The tall statuesque one had a beautiful figure, the kind you'd see on Sport Illustrated covers. (Belloto collects them.) She put all the girls here to shame. A beauty that had every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room as her. The short one was pixie-like, thin in the extreme- but not anorexic- with small features. Her hair was a deep black , cropped short and pointing in every direction.
They weren't alike and yet...they were all exactly alike. Everyone of them was a chalky white. Whiter than any of the pale students here. Sun deprived kids. They all had dark eyes despite the range in their hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes-purplish, bruise-like shadows. Like sleep deprived patients or recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, But again, this isn't what grabbed my attention, causing me to be unable to look away. I stared because of their faces, so different, so similiar, and all so devastingly inhumanly beautiful. Am I really sitting at the 'Cool' table? They were faces you'd expect to see pages of fashion magazines. Airbrushed, computer altered, made up, etc. Or painted as angels in the chapels by old masters. The most beautifulest is the blonde girl or the bronze-haired boy. They sat together. None of them looking at each other. Away from anything, staring at random spots. The small one rose from her chair with her tray of untouched food, and walked with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on runways. She dumped her tray and glided through the doors faster than I thought possible. My eyes darted over to the others. They remained as they were. Nothing changed- but the absence of that one.
"Who are they?" I asked the photographer. But it was Jessica to respond- the gossiper at play. Suddenly he looked up. The thinner- probably youngest- boyish one. I held in a breath. He is the most beautiful.
This boy. This Adonis...he looked Victorian era-ish. His chalky skinned face looked like it belonged to a chistled sculpture created by Michangelo. An oblong face, high sharp cheekbones, narrow-heavy hooded butterscotch eyes, a slightly clefted chin, full lips, and a pointed nose. His disheveled bronzed hair fell into his lovely eyes. His eyes looked at my neighbor's in a fraction of a second, then met with mine. I felt disappointed when he looked away, uninterested.
"Those are the Cullens and Hale twins," Jessica whispered. "The two guys are Emmett and Edward Cullen, the blondes are the twins- Rosalie and Jasper. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they live with Dr. Cullen and his wife," the gossiper said under her breath. "They are all together. Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together!" I glanced over at the table at the beautiful boy- who was looking down at his tray, picking at a bagel with his long pale fingers. Artist fingers. His perfect lips were moving very quickly, but barely opening. The others were still looking away but I felt he was talking to them.
"Don't waste your time, man," Tyler sighed. He threw his arm around Lauren's chair. "The girls don't want anybody else but they're guys. Only single guy is Edward and he's gay." He spat the word like poison. There's the one who'll give me trouble. I picked at a remaining leaf of lettuce on my tray. I wonder how the others would feel if I were to tell them. Lauren yelled at him to shut up. That Edward wasn't gay, just that he was playing the market. "They look a little old for foster children," I murmured. The photographer joined in the conversation. She explained that the Hales are Mrs. Cullen's eighteen year old niece and nephew. They're parents died when they were eight and she and her husband took them in. The rest have been with the Cullens since they were preteens. Dr. Cullen is in his late twenties or early thirties. His wife is just as young as him.I looked over at their table. "That's really kind of nice- for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything." Everyone looked at me. I've said something wrong. Jessica and Lauren exchanged a glance murmuring a reluctant agreement. Tyler and Mike shrugged it off continuing their early conversation. The photographer- who reminded me her name- Angela smiled slightly at me. Jessica threw jealous glances over her shoulder at them. "I think Mrs. Cullen can't have kids," she added as if that magically lessened their kindness.
"They're kind. Even if she can't have any of her own, she and her husband chose to adopt five. That shows character." Angela nodded her head while the other rolled their eyes. Clearly the Cullens and Hales are outcast. Talking bad about them is common. Defending them isn't. I glanced at their table once again, As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze. He looked at me curiously. A crease in the middle of his furrowed brow. I would ask which one was Edward but I didn't want to reopen the conversation. The group seemed done with filling me in.
The bell rang. Mike, Angela and I walked to our next class. Biology 2 with Mr. Banner. Angela is a nice girl. She told me that Mr. Banner assigned her a lab partner and that the only open seat was with Edward Cullen. I prayed that it was the Adonis. Never had I felt an urge to be near someone. To get to know them. All my boyfriends in the past were really blind dates set up by close friends. Belloto and his girlfriend accompanied us on a few. The longest I've ever dated someone was a week. It was just difficult to be with a person you couldn't relate to. I rounded the corner with them, entering the classroom.
There he sat in the center row's third aisle by the windows. I got my slip signed by the teacher, recieved my textbook and made my way down the aisle. All the while I watched Edward. His expression confused me. A mixture of hostility and distaste. His body rigid on the backless stool. I placed my things down and sat down. Edward leaned away from me. His coal black eyes penetracting me. I watched him lift up a hand to cover his mouth and nose. I ran my fingers through my hair. A lock falling in my face. I inconspicuously smelt it. It smelt of honey and strawberries. A shampoo I've come to love since buying it at a corner boutique. An innocent odor. Is he allergic to it? I leaned away from him, feeling his intense gaze still on me. Mr. Banner droned on about cellular anatomy, something I already learned. I hadn't any distraction from Edward's glares all throughout class.
He never relaxed. His form still rigid- I think he was holding his breath. His fist was clinched so tightly I could see traces of his vein showing. I glanced at in his build. Edward wasn't as nearly slight as I thought he was. He wore a white round necked shirt with the long sleeves rolled up. His forarm was surprisingly hard and muscled underneath his pale white skin. I made the mistake of looking into his eyes, again. The hate saddened me so. Revulsion. Maybe those were all rumors. What if he wasn't gay but could spot one a mile away? I bit my lower lip, groaning. His glare is a hundred times worst than any insult Phil throws. I folded my hands ontop of the black lab table. I wish Belloto were here. I could've switched partners and be with him.
Edward bolted out his chair a second before the bell rang. His fluid swift gait made him more godlike. He's taller than me, too. I gathered my things ignoring Mike insesive questions on what I did to Cullen. Gym was my final class. Because I had no uniform, I sat out watching the others play they're little sports on the bleachers. At the end of class I went back to the main office to turn my sheet in.
When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned and walked back out. Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. I reconized that tousled bronze hair. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting. He was argueing with Miss Shelly in a low attractive voice. I overheard what he was telling her. He was trying to trade sixth period Biology to another time- any other time than the one he had with me. Or I might be wrong. I couldn't be the cause. I haven't done anything or said anything to this boy. The look of aggravation must be on something else entirely! He couldn't have such a strong dislike for a stranger...could he?
The door opened, blowing cold air inside. A girl walked in, dropped a slip in the wire basket and walked out. Edward's back stiffened. He slowly turned his body to glare at me. His astounding face, beautiful even with the piercing hate-filled eyes. I felt a thrill of geniuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look lasted only a second but in my heart it felt like centuaries. He glared down at the ground saying to Shelly,"Never mind then. I can see it's impossible. Thank you for your help, Mrs. Cope." He rushed out the office without another look at me. Miss Shelly waved me over to her. I did as she asked, trudging over to her. I handed her the slip. Miss Shelly combed my hair back with her fingers, her voice maternal. "How was you day, sweetie? Make any friends?" I drummed my finger on the countertop.
"A few. My day was...nice," I lied. She saw through the lie but didn't ask anything more. I said goodbye to her and headed for home. I warmed up in my truck, staring blankly out the windshield.
Nice. My day was nice, I mentally chanted. I put my keys in the ignition and drove off. I need to talk to my brother.