Chapter 1- Location, Location, Location
Forks, Washington is very different from Miami. First of all, I'm used to palm trees and sunny beaches. Forks is the opposite- instead it has forests that look like they've come straight out of the Blaire Witch Project. And forget about sun. It hasn't stopped raining since I got here six hours ago.
Not that rain is a bad thing. On the contrary, I love rain. I live for the ten-minute monsoons in the middle of a hot Florida day. Constant rain is something I could learn to love, I'm sure.
The only thing I don't like from the very start is the cold. I don't own a winter coat, because the coldest it gets in Miami is like 55-60 degrees. I've never seen snow before in my life. Pathetic, right?
"Viola! I'm leaving now. You're father will be home at around midnight. Don't wait up." My mom yelled from downstairs as I folded the last of my clothes from the boxes.
I sighed. This was nothing new. But really- our first night in a new town? Oh well. My dad was a doctor- he had all sorts of strange hours. I was used to it by now.
It was already ten thirty, so I decided to go to bed. It was my first day at La Push High tomorrow. Technically, I should be going to Forks High, but my mom said that of the two, La Push had more challenging courses and offered more AP classes, so I would be going there instead. Of course, this means getting up twenty minutes earlier each day, but that's a small price to pay if it means I don't have to drop any of my hard-earned AP credits.
I set my alarm for six o'clock. Even at that early hour, I knew that by the time I woke up my mother would have already gone to work. The same for my father. But who knows? Maybe Forks will change things.
When the alarm went off, it was still dark outside. It was depressing. I much preferred Florida, where I woke up with the sun. This just felt… lonely.
I padded downstairs to go get breakfast, but soon realized that no one had bothered to go grocery shopping yet, so there was no food in the fridge. I would just have to skip breakfast today.
I found my way back to my bedroom. This house was a lot bigger than our last one. Probably because property value in Forks is significantly less than those in Miami.
I had a couple extra minutes, so I decided to pick out my clothes for the day. Not that it really mattered all that much, but it was nice to make a good first impression on my new classmates. That way maybe no one will be too devastated if they have to work in a group project with me.
I managed to find a semi-flattering sweater to wear over a camisole and a pair of jeans. At the present moment, it was the warmest outfit I had. I threw on my rain jacket and checked the clock again. 7:15.
School doesn't start until 8, but there's no harm in being there early, is there? My Chevy sputtered a bit at first when I tried to start it up, scaring the bejezus out of me. I managed to get the engine running however, much to my relief.
Typically, I don't like using a GPS when I drive- too distracting. I just turned 16 a couple months ago, I'm much younger than most of my classmates. I'm still a very cautious driver.
I got to La Push at 7:45 and parked in the still near-empty lot. At least I got a spot close to the door so I don't have to walk very far in this rain. Torrential downpour is more like it, actually.
I ran under the cover of the small over-hang and tried to wrench the door open. Unsuccessfully. I tried to push the door open. Unsuccessfully. Only then did I read the soggy, slightly blurry and water-logged sign hanging on the door.
School Open to Students at 8am.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! Now what?
I dashed back to my car, getting soaked along the way. I sighed and slumped down into the driver's seat. There were fifteen minutes left before those doors opened. I rummaged through my car, finding long-forgotten study sheets and old receipts. I found a few PSAT prep guides and broken pencils. Then, at the very bottom, I managed to un-bury my i-Pod. I had completely forgotten about this old thing.
Originally, I had bought it so I could listen to my French dictations before I went to bed, but I had put some music on there as well… just because. I knew my parents probably wouldn't like me using their hard-earned money in that way, but I was hoping they wouldn't notice.
I put the ear-buds into my ears and turned it on, surprised to see that it still had battery life left and didn't need to be charged. Immediately, a French woman began to recite the irregular subjunctive verbs into my brain. I scrolled through all of my playlists until I found some soft song with a piano in the background.
7:50. Ten more minutes. I absent-mindedly rubbed at the scars that littered both my wrists and were slowly merging onto the tops of my legs. It had occurred to me how easy they would be to hide here. Cold weather meant long sleeves and pants which meant a lot less exposed skin.
The welts on the tops of my leg had begun to itch badly. I ran my fingers over them, feeling the raised skin become slightly tender to the touch. Not only is the pain a way to find clarity, but it's also a… reminder, of sorts.
It's like a big message to myself, saying: "You're strong". I love my scars. They're my battle scars. However, they can be a burden. A huge, obvious burden. I'm constantly paranoid that someone will see them.
It's only happened once before, and I was able to frantically make up a lie about my cat. My imaginary, clichéd cat.
I'm not sure what would happen if my parents found out about it. I don't really want to know.
I opened my eyes and saw other students rushing past me in the rain. 7:59 already?
I didn't bother to take my i-Pod out, instead just grabbing my backpack and rushing through the less-than-refreshing downpour.
By the time I made it inside I was soaked, all the extra effort I had put in to look nice this morning negated by the wet-rat look I was currently sporting. I frowned, squeezing my hair out and tying it up into a bun. So much for that.
Miraculously, my i-Pod still worked, despite being doused with water. I navigated my way to the front office through the hoards of bustling students.
"Hi, um… it's my first day here." I told the unhelpful looking lady at the front desk.
"Viola Marrok?" She asked, snapping her gum in my face. I nodded in confirmation.
"Here's your schedule and locker information. Have a nice day." She said dismissively while handing me a stack of papers. Is it possible for her to be any less inviting?
I began approaching my homeroom more and more anxiously. I don't like to be the center of attention, so being the new kid was going to suck.
Okay Viola. You can do this. Deep breaths. Just relax.
I repeated my mantra in an attempt to calm my pounding heart as I walked into room 209.
Immediately, I seized up, overcome with nervousness upon seeing all the activity. Comparatively, my old school was much, much larger, but due to the fact that this is a school for the students on the reservation… well, let's just says I stood out like a sore thumb. And that's a whole heck of a lot scarier than mere size.
I gulped and walked to the teacher's desk as the surrounding students continued to ignore me (thankfully). The man behind the desk bore a shocking resemblance to the elder Obi Wan Kenobi. He didn't look up from the politics section of the newspaper as he brought a large coffee cup up to his lips to take a long swig.
I cleared my throat quietly and he did a bit of a quick double-take at my presence, seemingly startled. "Oh, uh… sorry, sorry. You're the new student?" He asked as he put the paper down and tried to arrange the mess that was his desk. He quickly gave up though, apparently realizing himself the hopelessness of the situation.
"Erm, yes. My name is Viola Marrok." I tucked my wet strands of hair behind my ears.
He seemed to perk up a bit. "Viola? You weren't by any chance named after Shakespeare's Viola, were you?"
I nodded shyly. "Yes, from Twelfth Night."
He smiled, and there was a beat of awkward silence before he seemed to realize himself. "Oh! Um, right. Yes. Well, I'm, uh, I'm Mr. Quin. I'm an English teacher. And, you already have your schedule, yes? Yes. So, then, I suppose you can just take a seat, and err… Welcome to La Push High, then." He said, painfully awkward.
I hope I have him for class. I think we would get along. I did as he said and found a seat in the back of the classroom, away from the rest of the ruckus. I studied my schedule as I worked my very hardest to remain invisible. So far, it seemed to be working.
"Hey, you're the new kid, right?" I spoke too soon. In front of me stood a thin girl with glossy hair and impeccable clothes- all brand-name, I'm sure. Not to sound stereotypical, but she seemed to be a carbon copy of the exact type of girls I had established a mutual hate for back in Miami. "I'm Grace."
"Viola." I stated with a tight smile.
"What?" She asked, frowning.
"My name is Viola."
She took her hands off her hips. "Oh, okay. Like the instrument? That's cool, I guess," Her voice made it clear she was not as interested as her words might make it seem.
"Where are you from again?" She was losing interest quickly, I could tell.
"Miami." Maybe if I just give her one word answers, she'll go away.
"Wow! That's awesome, what's it like?" The bell rang then, saving me from what probably would have been a pointless discussion with someone who would hate me in a matter of weeks anyway.
Grace seemed genuinely disappointed, and suggested I sit with her and her friends at lunch so I could tell her about Florida. I agreed, having neither the courage nor the will to refuse.
Since my luck seemed to be coming in such abundance today, my first class was AP Chemistry. I managed to find the classroom swiftly enough, but unfortunately could not make it to my seat undetected. The teacher, in her mid-forties made me stand up in front of the class to introduce myself. The class appeared to be made up of mostly upper-classmen (Seniors). I swear to you, one boy in the back looked like he was at least twenty years old.
"I- I'm Viola." I said, regretting my decision to put my hair in a bun so I couldn't hide behind it.
"Where are you from Viola?" Mrs. Fey asked kindly.
"Miami." I said quietly. The teacher must have realized that she wasn't getting anything more out of me, because she then directed me to go find a seat.
Normally, I prefer to sit in the front during class but there were no open chairs. In fact, there was only one open chair- in the very back, next to the adult-looking boy. I cautiously sat down, desperately avoiding eye contact. Once the class started, it wasn't quite as difficult because I was completely focused on the lesson and taking my notes. They seemed to be in roughly the same chapter that we were in back in my old school, so that was good.
"Do you have any more loose leaf paper?" Hulk-boy asked me in a rough, scratchy voice. I took an extra piece out of my folder and handed it to him quickly, sparing him only a quick glance before I returned to my copious note-taking. Apparently though, Hulk-boy wanted to chat.
"I'm Quil. How do you like La Push?" He whispered.
"It's okay." I said simply, not wanting to be rude but definitely not wanting to miss any of the lesson.
"You take a lot of notes." He observed.
"I know."
"Does anyone here know the exact calculation for one molar mass?" Mrs. Fey asked the class.
When no one volunteered, I raised my hand. "One mole is equivalent to Avogadro's number, or six-point-zero-two times ten to the twenty-third." I recited from memory. About half the class turned to stare at me and I realized that I just managed to label myself "nerd" in just one sentence. Well, better sooner rather than later, I suppose.
"Very good Viola." The teacher complimented before returning to her lecture. Quil didn't try to talk to me again for the rest of the lesson, for which I was thankful.
The two other classes before lunch flew by pretty quickly, because Calc and English were both my best subjects. However, the curriculum for English was entirely different, which terrified me. Luckily though, I had already read the book they were currently on, being the avid reader that I am. As long as my AP credits are still valid, I have no complaints.
By the time lunch rolled around, I had forgotten about Grace and mine's little "agreement". Grace, apparently, hadn't. As I tried to look as inconspicuous as possible while walking to an empty lunch table, I heard my name being called continuously, causing me to jump almost five feet in the air.
"Viola! Over here, come sit with us!" She called, standing up and waving over to what appeared to be an extremely preppy-looking crowd. She began to approach me and I desperately tried to stutter out an excuse without sounding absolutely terrified.
"T-that's ok-k-kay. I was j-just g-going to…"Damnit mouth, why won't you work! "To go t-to the library." I finally managed to say. To give her due credit, Grace managed to wait patiently and refrain from mocking me.
"Oh, no you don't. You can't possibly have that much homework on the first day. You're coming to sit with us." She stated definitively, literally dragging me to her table and pushing me into a vacant seat.
"Everyone, this is Viola. She is very shy." Grace stated bluntly as she introduced me to her group of friends. "Viola, this is Makayla, Travis, and Summer." She said as she pointed to a different person after each individual name. Summer was by far the most intimidating out of the whole group- her exotic, striking features adding an air of superiority to her attitude. The other two seemed generally harmless.
"Hi, nice to meet you." Makayla and Travis said practically in unison. Summer merely glanced at her phone with boredom, making no attempt to conceal the fact that she was texting someone instead of feigning interest in the "new girl".
I was so preoccupied with trying not to look terrified of Summer that I didn't notice that Grace had pulled out a chair next to me and was already chattering. "So, like. How did you go from Miami to Small Town, USA?" Grace asked while taking a bite from her salad.
"My dad's job." I said, picking at the sandwich I bought from the cafeteria.
"Really? What does he do?"
"He's an anesthesiologist." By this time, most people ended the conversation due to boredom. Grace was no different.
"Huh. Sounds cool." She supplied half-heartedly while starting up a new conversation topic with Makayla and Travis as Summer continued her general glowering. I remained quiet until the end of the period, when the bell rang and I excused myself to go to French.
I was almost positive that none of those four would ever interact with me again. My three periods at the end of the day seemed to drag on, and when they finally ended I inwardly rejoiced.
There was no mad rush back to my car because there seemed to be a small breach in the rain, causing a misty, foggy-like aura that was nothing short of a hell to drive in. Either way, I'll still take it over the blistering heat of Florida any day.
When I got home, I immediately went through my routine. One, walk upstairs, two, spread text books out on my bed, three, tip-toe past my mom's office into the kitchen and grab a piece of fruit for a snack, four, put on my worn pair of blue slippers, five, bury myself into my studies until dinner at 7:30.
It was like nothing had changed… because nothing had. Just the location.
A/N: Thanks for all your positive feedback! No Seth this chapter (sorry) but he will be here next chapter, I promise :) Please review, love yah!
