A/N: Alright, here goes with another chapter…they're fairly short for now, but they'll become longer as the story progresses. Enjoy!
Bella POV
Chapter 2
I woke up at six-thirty, tears still lingering on my face. I had unconsciously cried the entire night. Talk about pitiful.
I sniffled and grasped at the pouch around my neck, the one I carried everywhere, even to the shower, no matter what. And now, another note had been added to it's contents. Soon I would have to find a normal place to store them.
I got up, washed my face, brushed my teeth, combed through my tangled mane of brown hair, got dressed, and munched on a granola bar, though none of these activities left any lasting imprint on my memory. I was just going through the motions, finishing up by sliding onto the front seat of my new car. I checked my reflection in the mirror, noticing the slightly purple bags beneath my eyes and the paleness of my skin. The rest of my appearance was okay—my hair looked relatively straight, with some bunches of frizz at the top, and my eyes looked big and shy. My black sweatshirt, white tee shirt, and comfortable old jeans helped to fit with my "girl-next-door" persona. And, strangely enough, my appearance seemed to also fit with the similarly dreary climate.
The truck gunned into life like a round of bullets being fired in the distance. There was bound to be a fault with a car like this, I rationalized. And really, the sound problem wasn't that bad. It would sure be a dramatic way to enter the school, though. I had to smile when I thought of that.
I drove along the winding back roads that Charlie had pointed out to me on the drive back from the airport—he knew that my memory was excellent. Again, a trait I picked up from Renee, who would leave me so many different things "to-do" over the phone with no paper in reach that I had been forced into the habit of remembering. Of course, when it concerned him, it was much more of nuisance than it should have been.
Forks High School was very much like the town itself; small and wet and boxy, little square buildings situated every ten feet from one another, groups of trees clustered into every available, unpaved space. I had no idea what I was doing, so instead of driving around in circles like someone who didn't have a clue, I just parked outside the most official looking building situated in the center. I walked inside, hands in my pockets, concentrating on not tripping over anything.
The woman at the desk was sporting a purple shirt and obviously-dyed red hair. Her orange glasses somehow managed to add a similar clash to the rest of the ensemble. "Yes, deary?" she said, glancing at me kindly. "Do you need something?'
"Hi, yeah," I said nervously, "I'm Bella Swan."
"Oh," she said, her eyebrows raised. "Charlie's daughter? Oh, honey, I have your schedule and everything right here."
"Uh, thanks," I said, blushing. I hated that being the Chief of Police's and his flighty ex-wife's daughter meant being very conspicuous and getting a lot of attention that I didn't particularly want.
I gripped the schedule tightly and hurried back outside into the rain, hopping into my truck and following a newly formed line of cars into a parking lot tucked behind the main building. I could see people staring at me from within their cars, turning to catch a glimpse of "the new girl".
I sighed. This was going to be torture.
As I stepped into the rain, I could at least be glad that I didn't stand out. They probably had been expecting a blonde bombshell from Phoenix, but I definitely didn't fit their expectations. I looked relatively at home here, at least on the outside, not like a tanned volleyball player from Arizona. My rusty monster of a car certainly fit in with the other cars in the lot, most of which looked like they were hand-me-downs. The only car that stuck out was a shiny silver Volvo at the end of the lot, but even that looked less out of place through the thick rain.
I drifted towards the building, painfully aware of the hard asphalt beneath my feet that was slick with water. I absolutely would hate it if I tripped in front of all these wondering eyes.
But, of course, luck not being with me, I tripped on where the street met the sidewalk, barely managing to keep myself upright. My schedule fell to the ground, the moisture immediately soaking it brown. Perfect.
I was surprised when I saw a delicate white hand pick up the paper, shaking it gently before sticking it beneath my nose.
"Here," a melodious voice said, strangely distorted by an emotion of some sort…happiness?
I blushed as soon as I saw who it was—a girl, beautiful and petite, with short black hair and skin even fairer than mine. Her eyes widened as soon as she saw me.
"Wow," she said, "You're awfully pale. Are you alright?"
I didn't feel like pointing out that, between the both of us, she was the one who looked like she was coated in flour. Instead, I nodded mutely and snatched my schedule out of her hand, my light blush instantly deepening to a burgundy. I hated how easy it was to embarrass me, because for me, embarrassment meant blushing.
And I especially hated that it was so easy to make me feel inferior. And this girl, who I did not know, who had barely even spoken to me, was already well on her way to making me feel like the lowest of the low. Because, even as she stood thoughtfully, beautiful golden eyes narrowed, there was such a fluidity in her motions that I thought she must be a dancer. Her delicate and angular features, so very close to an untarnished white, and thin frame only made her seem more and more like a runway model. I wasn't jealous—I had long ago accepted the fact that I was no great beauty. But in the face of such gorgeousness it was hard not to feel self-conscious…
"Well," she said, her voice as graceful as her movements, "I'm going to have to get back to my family now—they're about to start looking for me. But have a nice day!"
I nodded again, too stunned to speak.
It wasn't until fifteen minutes later, stuffed inside of my English classroom, that I started to think about what she had actually meant by, "They're about to start looking for me."
She had been speaking about the possible future, and stated it as fact.
