Author's Note: I've gotten no reviews and only a very small pinch of readers according to my traffic page. :( I'm sort of okay with it really; I'm still having fun writing this story, though I wish that I'd get some feedback from you guys. To make this story better, I need to know what needs to be improved upon. Help me, help you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. There.

Overcast

02. High Noon

Gym class was horrible. Not just because I'm a horrible athlete, but also because of Sophia being in my head, bombarding me with images of her beauty. We were supposed to be playing a pick-up game of basketball, shirts versus skins. Thankfully I was on the shirts team; I'd be too embarassed to be on the skins team, and I know that's weird coming from a guy, but whatever.

I had the ball one time, and I was immediately called for traveling by the teacher, Mr. Mansfield, who just so happened to be the basketball coach for the men's varsity team. That taught my team not to pass me the ball afterwards, which Mr. Mansfield berated the team for not letting me participate. But I could care less, honestly.

The "class" was soon over, and we were all dismissed to go home. I changed out of my smelly clothes, threw them in my backpack, and headed out the doors into a chilly autumn afternoon.

Once I stepped out onto the cement, I saw her. Sophia, leaning against a tree, apparently waiting for her other beautiful brothers and sisters. I wanted to offer her a ride, but one, I didn't know where she lived, and two, that'd be weird of me to try to take someone home I didn't even know for a day.

I sighed and the wind picked up, gusting at my body, my short hair being blown backwards, as if I was in a wind tunnel. I tried to smooth it back down and out of the corner of my eye, see her tense up. She was also looking at me. But it was a strange look. One that I had never seen before.

It was confusing. She was glaring at me, hunger in her eyes for some strange reason. But this wasn't the person I had talked to earlier today. Sophia was shy, not one to give the evil eye at any passing pedestrian. I looked at her to find her brow furrowed, as if she was concentrating very hard on something I didn't know.

I looked back down, not wanting to see her shooting daggers with her eyes, and made my way to my car, trying to get out of the surrounding area. I opened the door, started the car, and drove off, going back home to where Harriet would be waiting for me. For me to take care if her, even if she was my mother. I tried to make the drive slow, putting it off as much as I could, but I still made it back home in a timely fashion. I sighed and walked into the house, unsure of what stunt Harriet was going to pull this time.

The house was silent when I entered it. I didn't hear the sound of the television running, the radio, nothing was on. Strange, usually this was the time of day she'd watch her dreadful soap operas.

I tiptoed to Harriet's bedroom and slowly turned the handle, to try to minimize the amount of noise I'd make just in case she was sleeping. I only opened the door just a crack when I heard noises from inside, the rustling of blankets and sheets. "Harr--" I started before stopping myself. "Mom?"

The same noise I heard earlier ceased, so I opened the door all the way to find Harriet sitting upright on the bed, her arms crossed and her hands lying on her knees. "Hello, son," she greeted, with a smile.

It didn't take a genius to know that something was off. I could just tell from that forced grin on her face. "What do you have there?" I asked, nearing the bed to find what I thought she was hiding.

"Nothing!" she said too loudly. "Nothing," she repeated, but softer.

I raised an eyebrow and looked behind her to find a rectangular bump underneath the linens. Just what I thought, damn it, Harriet. "Mom, we're supposed to be using our leftover money in emergencies."

"This was an emergency," Harriet tried to argue with me.

"Yeah?"

"I was thirsty," she spat out, emphasizing her "dry" throat. "There was nothing in the house."

"The faucet would have quenched your thirst," I pointed out to her, reaching for the bottle.

"No!" she screamed, grabbing my arm and trying to prevent me from taking away her alcohol. "It's mine!"

"Mom," I held her off, gritting my teeth into powder. "You can't have this with you. You can't have liquor in this household."

"You're not my father," Harriet snipped like a little kid. She grabbed the bottle and before I could even react, she popped the cap off and began to swig down the entire bottle.

After she had guzzled down a quarter of the depressant, I grabbed the base of the bottle and pulled it all away from her, spilling some in the process on the carpet. "Look what you did!" she shrieked in horror, as if she found a dead body in the bushes. "Gone, forever!"

I stared at her actions, incredulous at how it could have gotten this bad. Did I do something wrong? How could I make her realize that she's going to kill herself if I let this continue? She can't be an alcoholic for the rest of her life, or else it will be severely shortened unfortunately. What could I do?

I knew the reason why Harriet was self-destructive. Jack, my father. He had been the love of her life. At the beginning they were beautiful together when I looked through the worn album in the closet, and whenever I reminisced on my childhood. He was the greatest father. He'd take me on camping trips, even though I told him I detested them. They were always fun, and I loved spending time with my father. Whenever we went out in the grocery store, he'd walk beside Harriet, holding her hand down the aisle, still looking at each other with the look of smitten lovers. They were perfect for each other, and would never leave each other's side.

But Jack did leave. The sudden tumor in his brain that was inoperable, which he didn't cause on his own free will. He did nothing to deserve the slow, painful death that he had to suffer through. No one deserved to die the way he did. He died when I was twelve, with Harriet by his side, crying hysterically at losing him. It was difficult for me to accept that my father was gone, but for Harriet, it was different.

So Harriet turned to a vice, which was alcohol. She'd guzzle down any form of the drug she could get her hands on, and if she couldn't, she'd try to find some pills or narcotics to ease her pain. That horrible heartbreak that happened when he died. I believe that she blamed herself in some strange way for Jack's death, which was a ludicrous notion. She couldn't have changed anything to change it. And that's the part that killed her the most; that she could do nothing to stop the cancer. Watching your husband die in front of you...Tell me that can just move on from that.

I put the alcohol on the shelf and approached Harriet slowly, showing her that I wasn't a threat anymore to her. I spread out my arms and hugged her, trying my best to ease the pain from the proverbial hole in her chest. She tentatively wrapped her arms around me and sniffled, holding back the tears that begged to pour out of her eyes.

"It's going to be okay," I tried to comfort her as well as forgive her.

"Is it?" she broke away, looking into my eyes. "He's still never coming back."

"Yes," I said before choosing my next words delicately. "But you can try to live your life like he was still here. Don't self destruct. Jack wouldn't want that to happen to you."

At the very mention of his name, Harriet began to sob, memories flooding her head. She put her head in her hands and fell face down on the mattress, covering up her tears. I didn't know what I should do next, so I slowly grabbed the liquor bottle and walked out of the room, leaving her to deal with her emotions. I couldn't help her at all when she acted like this, I didn't know how. All I knew was that if my mother really wanted to change, she needed to forgive herself. And that was going to be a long-shot.

I poured the alcohol down the drain and placed the bottle in the recycling bin, trying to be eco-friendly even through Harriet's health-unfriendly ways. I decided to make plain ol' grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner, placing sliced tomatoes in them for the veggie. Those were Harriet's favorite, so she'd be happy about that, but not very.

As I sliced the tomatoes, my skull felt like all this pressure was on it, and I developed a really bad headache. Call it the stress from dealing with an addictive mother, whatever, this migraine was awful. I could barely see straight so I put the sharp knife down and took some medicine to try to curb the pain. It was going to take a while for the aspirin to kick in, so I slowly and deliberately fixed dinner, taking every move I made into consideration before executing it.

I plopped Harriet's grilled cheese sandwich on one of her favorite earthenware plates and opened her bedroom door to deliver it for her. "Hey, Mom," I said to show her that I was coming in. "Dinner."

She looked up at me with her big hazel eyes, the kind that were mostly blue with a ring of brown near the pupil, and took the food. "Thank you."

"No problem, Mom," I smiled. "Enjoy."

She nodded her head and nibbled at the crust. I knew she had something on her mind, and it was only a matter of time before she'd speak to me. "Julian?"

"Mmm hmm?" I acknowledged her.

"You know why I named you the way I did?" she asked before taking a big bite into the sandwich.

"No," I answered genuinely.

"Julian Alastair Gallagher," she spoke my full name, even though I hated my middle name. "Alastair came from your father. His middle name was Alastair, and so was his father's, and his father's father, and so on through the ages. It's a family heirloom, I guess."

That part of the story I actually didn't know about. I just thought that they wanted to have my initials spell out a word or phrase, like J.A.G. I felt a sense of pride almost when she told me about that. It was nice to know that I was upholding some family tradition.

"As for Julian," Harriet continued, looking away for a moment to stare at the stitching of the blanket. "I wanted a symbolic name. I bought every baby naming book you could imagine, and it was incredibly difficult to find one that would suit the little baby growing inside me. I knew I wanted you to be free. That is, the kind of person that would reach for their goals, and look into the sky rather than at the ground. I saw your name, and it basically derived from the Latin word for sky. It was the most beautiful name I'd ever seen, and I knew that was what you should be called."

"Cool," I breathed easy, now understanding the reason why my name was originated. "Thanks, Mom."

She smiled and finished her sandwich, handing me her plate. Even though I was acting as an expediter, I didn't mind. She was acting happier than she did just a few moments ago. I didn't see any problem later tonight with her. Tonight...

I washed and rinsed the used plate and left it on the rack to dry. I finally had a chance to eat my sandwich, even if it was cold after Harriet's lengthy revelation. It was okay though, no harm, no foul. After eating my meager dinner, I took a shower and changed into some clean clothes that stood for my pajamas. Night had just now fallen, and it was time to work on some of the homework I was assigned today, much to my dismay.

As I worked, my mind began to drift off like it usually did when I was doing something unpleasant like homework. The first thing that popped up in my head was of course Sophia. Her beautiful face almost seemed to haunt me, her dark dark eyes following me, even if I was just imagining them whenever I closed my eyes. I tried to shake them off, coming with a rational reason as to why I thought about her.

I knew I had a crush on her. That was a given, I mean, she was impossibly beautiful. Who wouldn't have a crush on her once they laid eyes on her, unless you were already completely devoted to someone else? Sophia was gorgeous and wouldn't give me the time of day otherwise.

On the other hand, she was shy. Maybe one of those people who was out of touch on what they actually looked like. Someone who was humble, and thought of themselves as plain. But she wasn't ordinary, she was extraordinary, you couldn't deny that. It still didn't fit though. How could someone that looked so beautiful be so shy and withdrawn? There had to be a reason why she acted like this.

The crush I had on Sophia felt like it was literally crushing me, twisting me, encompassing me, restricting me. I couldn't fathom any other thought other than one pertaining to that siren. I knew I had to do something to stop the way I thought about her, just so I could ease the pain if I ever did something stupid and she avoided me. That's what usually happened to someone I liked or one of my friends. I always did something to screw it up. Always.

I slammed my books shut and threw them in my backpack. I couldn't work on schoolwork with her running through my head. This was just getting to the point where my thoughts were being distracting. What was all this about? If this was just a crush, then it wouldn't be this bad. Would it? What if it was something...more?

No, that's crazy talk. You can't fall in love with a person at first glance, it doesn't work like that. You have to build relationships, not establish them within the first couple of minutes. But then why was I yearning to be with her right now, as much as that sounds stalkerish? Jesus, I'm starting to sound like a crazed Catholic schoolgirl or something.

I forced myself to not think of this issue anymore and went in the bathroom to grab some sleeping medication. I usually only took them if I absolutely could not sleep no matter how hard I tried, but I already knew ahead of time that there was no way I'd fall to sleep tonight without some assistance. I twisted off the cap and tossed back a couple pills into my open mouth, swallowing them dry. I knew that it'd take a while for the drugs to kick in, so I grabbed my books and finished the homework before I climbed into bed.

The drugs finally began to take hold, and my eyelids fell heavy almost immediately when my head hit the pillow. Sophia's eyes glared at me when I closed my eyes, and I fell asleep soon after.

There weren't any dreams whenever I took medication, or at least from what I remembered when I woke up the next morning to that sodding alarm clock. I yawned and shut the clock off before rubbing my eyes. I felt too tired, as if I was drained off all my physical energy. Maybe from having to take care of Harriet, but tired or not, I still had to go to that stupid high school. But at least Sophia will be there.

I scoffed at that statement jumping into my head, realizing that this day wasn't going to be any different from yesterday. I was still going to think about her, even though I didn't necessarily want to. This was starting to get kind of unhealthy.

I grabbed a clean shirt and pair of jeans from the closet and changed into them right there in my bedroom. I gathered my pajamas and backpack before heading downstairs to get ready for the day.

I threw my bag on the couch and entered the bathroom, throwing my peejay's in the hamper. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, did all the things you needed to do in the bathroom to get ready for school, and walked out, begrudgingly ready to head off to the learning establishment. I popped a couple pieces of wheat bread into the toaster and went to check in on Harriet to see if she was okay.

She was still sleeping when I opened up her bedroom door, snoring noisily as she always does. In her slumber, I could tell that she was dreaming about Jack, because she would smile every now and then. She'd giggle occasionally, and sometimes even say his name. I smiled at Harriet having the pleasant dream that she was having, and made my exit, grabbing my toast before I headed out the door.

The drive to school seemed a lot shorter, and I guess it was because I was cheerier than usual. Maybe it was seeing Harriet happy and that somehow transferred to me, hell I didn't know. I wasn't just going to throw this feeling away though. I finished my little breakfast and got out of the car with backpack in hand and walked towards the school.

In the front of the parking lot was the nicest looking car I'd ever seen in our high school parking lot; an Escalade. Not something that you'd see in rural upper peninsula Michigan. It was black, with the windows blackened just a little bit so you couldn't see inside of it. The door to it began to open, and I only needed to see the pale white skin on her ankle to know who's vehicle it belonged to.

Sophia climbed out, the wind blowing through her long red hair. She moved out of the way for her equally beautiful siblings and walked with them into the school, leaving a trail of awestruck teenage boys gawking at the expensive automobile in their wake. She was rich too? Looks and money together? This was not fair.

I ignored the teenage crowd and maneuvered my way into the school, dodging the envious guys. I made my way to my locker, got all my stuff needed for Calculus, and walked to class, already beginning to dread what Mr. Hammond would have up his sleeve today. Hopefully not calling me Julia like he did yesterday.

"Hey, Jules!" Mr. Hammond chuckled when I walked into the classroom. "Have a seat."

Great, that just took the wind out from under me.

"Julian," I grumbled back.

"Huh?" Mr. Hammond held a hand up to her ear, as if he would magically be able to hear better if he did.

"I was just laughing," I lied, my deceit evident on my face. "Ha ha."

"Oh," Mr. Hammond grinned, not catching my facial slip. "Everything's all in good fun, right?"

"Right," I bit my tongue for fear of me saying something that will land me in detention again.

Mr. Hammond kept up at his over-the-top polite attitude, always trying to stay on everyone's good side, even if he was directly making fun of them. I learn much better by reading, so I just read my textbook rather than listen to his uninformative lecture. The bell rang after what seemed like forever, and I went off to my remaining classes. I honestly can't say what I did in either of those other two classes, because I was overcome with anxiety while I was held in the classes. I didn't know why at first I was so anxious to be out of them, but I figured out soon after that it was because of Sophia Redmond. Lunch would come around, and maybe, just maybe, I'd get to sit at the table with her and her siblings.

Actually, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it would never happen, which made me even more nervous. I cursed inwardly at my brain being on the fritz, not being able to think about anything else.

I tried to rush down to the lunch line so I could see if I could sit with them or not, but it really didn't help that my class was on the far end of the school than the cafeteria was. I waited for what seemed like an eternity, and started grabbing random items haphazardly when I had my chance. I paid for the food, which consisted oddly enough of fish sticks, cottage cheese, milk, and mashed potatoes, and scoured the tables for them.

They were at the same table, looking exactly the same like they did yesterday. Same seats even. It was almost if I had taken a photograph of them earlier and was looking at it in front of my eyes. My body very much wanted to sit with Sophia, but it also wouldn't move, no matter how hard I tried.

I tentatively took a step forward, and saw her gaze at me from across the annex. Crap, she saw me. What was I supposed to do next? This was just like that scene in a western movie before the sheriff and outlaw would duel. I slowly stepped forward, the fear of being rejected festering and growing with every movement I made. It wasn't until I was about twenty feet away from them that I saw what her gaze actually looked like.

It was strange to say the least. From that first day in AP Lit, she struck me as shy, possibly weak. And her eyes were dark, almost black, with circles under them. But today, they were friendly and inviting. A complete one-eighty from the day prior. But it also wasn't what the eyes evoked that changed. Instead of the black eyes, they were instead a startling shade of green, like emeralds glistening. I swear to God, her eyes changed color. Overnight.

I must have imagined it, must have. People's eye color do not change. Unless they had contacts. But no optical instruments could have done her beautiful orbs justice. Then again, they did have enough money to achieve it...

I continued to approach her, ignoring the other Redmond's for the moment. When I was just a few feet away, I looked at the others to see that they were all staring at me, almost surprised at what I was doing. Except the black-haired guy, he still appeared to hate my guys for no discernible reason. I avoided his glare and focused my energy on succumbing the nerve and strength to say those few words that I wanted to say, to ask them if I could sit with them. Just so I could talk with Sophia.

For the first few seconds, my throat became very dry, the words getting caught inside. I must have looked like an idiot as I hesitated, as the lanky guy started chuckling to himself. I took a deep breath, and asked in the quietest voice possible, "Is it all right if I sit? Here." I added after leaving off the adverb, cursing myself in my mind for my moronic lapse.

The tall guy laughed and grinned at my expense, but motioned with his hand to the empty seat the farthest away from them. "Be our guest."

"Thanks," I eased up, trying to shake off my disastrous introduction. I sat down, taking care to nod my head, appreciating the kind gesture.

I wanted to talk to them as I grazed my food, not caring for the taste or even being very hungry. But I couldn't. That lump in my throat wouldn't go away, my nerves completely disarming me of my tongue. It was a strange feeling to say the least. I tried to not look at the Redmond's, but every now and then I'd glance up at Sophia's emerald eyes, getting starstruck by their beauty. She was the most beautiful and perfect person I'd ever seen in my life.

This stupid crush was going to be the death of me. I needed to get over it, and quickly. I forced myself to stare at my the table, fixated on the patterns of the grains in the wood. When that got boring, I looked above the beautiful family to the ceiling, counting the tiles and checking out the plethora of world flags we'd accumulated over the years from the foreign exchange students we had.

I was inspecting the Mongolian flag when I heard Sophia's familiar musical voice ask me, "How have you been, Julian?"

I snapped out of my inspection and to the Redmond's, all of them starting at me with their eyes. But the more they looked at me, the more I realized that some had changed from the last time I saw them. I mean, some of them were still coal black with bruises underneath them, but the lanky kid's eyes were brown like sienna. The short girl next to him had mesmerizing aqua-blue eyes that matched Sophia's emerald gaze. How could three of them manage to get such great contact lenses that allowed them flawless eyes?

"Fine," I answered after shaking my awe-struck gazes away from them. "How about you?"

"Delightful," she answered, a slight smile on her lips.

The ice finally broken, I felt like it was easier for me to speak, so I did. "Who's your family?"

She was about to speak before she was interrupted by the lanky kid's words. "Pleasure to meet you, Julian. I'm Silas, and this is Gwendolyn, Frederick, and Cecily," he introduced his family, motioning with his hand to his siblings.

"Nice to meet all of you," I nodded to all of them. Such old-fashioned names, kind of like Sophia's. It was nice to have a break from all the Ashley's and Brittany's in this school. "Where'd you guys live before coming here?" I asked.

"Montana," Gwendolyn answered, looking at me with her aqua-blue eyes. "Specifically from Missoula."

I nodded my head and said something corny, "Wow, from the west to the Midwest."

"Dorian and Helen wanted to raise us in another small town," Sophia explained, as if that would clarify any confusion I had. "I know, we're awfully boring."

Anything but. "Nah, I wouldn't say that," I tried to make her happy and not miserable at having to adapt to this new state. "The town is, but I'm sure you guys aren't."

Sophia raised an eyebrow and Frederick spoke to me with a gruff voice, "Trust us, we are."

I tensed at his words, and was perturbed by Frederick's statement. "Okay..." I trailed off.

"Don't listen to him," Silas tried to make me shrug Frederick's words out of my head. "He's always like this if anyone wants to be friends with his sister."

"We can hear you. You know that, right?" Cecily rolled her eyes, annoyed at Silas' consolation.

"I do know that," Silas grinned, not caring.

"I'll take note of it," I tapped my finger to my head, while actually making a mental note in my skull.

It was nice to be able to carry on a conversation with all these beautiful people. I would have thought it to be impossible for someone like me to even interact with people like them, but here I was, hamming it up with them. I felt like I...belonged there, as "clingy" as it may seem. I never really cared for being around anyone else in this school, and vice versa. But the Redmond's were different. Physically of course, but spiritually?

The bell unfortunately rang soon after, and they all began to get out of their seats, and I soon followed. Sophia waved off her siblings and joined me by my side, much to my astonishment. "Come with me to class," she ordered, smiling.

"All right," I dumped my scraps in the trash and put the tray away. "All aboard to AP Lit!"

She giggled and stayed by my side as we went to our lockers to grab our necessary folders and papers for class. I could feel the stares from behind me, the incredulous looks. I even heard a few scoffs and sly remarks that implied that of course he would go out with her, whatever that meant. But that was just people jumping to conclusions, believing that two people, that just so happen to be of the opposite sex, cannot walk the halls without being an item.

I shook my head at the comments, which she noticed as we entered the classroom. "What was that about?"

"You didn't hear the other kids?" I asked her, tilting my head towards the bustling hallway.

"Barely," she said as we sat down. "What did they say?"

"They were making assumptions that we were 'together'," I said, even air-quoting it with my fingers.

She raised an eyebrow and asked, "Would you prefer if they didn't assume that we were together?"

I quickly tried to back-pedal with, "Well, it's just that they took us out of context. You know?"

"I understand," she fixed her hair, taking strands of her locks behind her ear. "You want people to get their facts in check, rather than them spread gossip that's unfounded."

"Exactly," I said, taking her explanation and running with it.

"That's seems quite guarded actually," she countered. "As if you don't want to be seen with me?"

There you go, Julian. You're losing it. Quick, say something. "It's not that. I don't care what anyone thinks of me."

"Then why does it now bother you?"

"Because they're jumping to conclusion about you," I answered truthfully. "They shouldn't make judgements of you without even meeting or getting to know you."

She smiled and the class finally started after the teacher rushed in, apparently running later than she expected from her lunch period. I looked over to Sophia occasionally, still stricken by her beauty. My mind began to wander as Mrs. Harper started to talk about the novella, "Ethan Frome" and thought about the comments in the hallway. I first thought that maybe the comments were negative because we looked "good," together, kind of like those famous celebrity couples that are only together because of their looks. But I completely disregarded that thought, because the truth of the matter was that I had an ugly mug. I was sure of it.

At least, that was the case from junior year and back, but now it was different. Cat from yesterday, the looks, the smirks. Could I have suddenly jumped the "hot" scale in the school, much to my horror? This stupid school was getting very confusing and was going to be the death of me, I was sure.

Mrs. Harper handed out an assignment for us to complete and made us partner up. I noticed some of the girls glancing at my direction, but immediately looking down when I caught their eye. I shook my head and Sophia spoke up with her musical voice, "Come on, partner. Let's work together."

Author's Note: Sappy? Boring? I wouldn't know. It's all just exposition at this point. The complication will come up soon, just be patient. If you get the chance, please review and let me know how I'm doing! :)