A/N: First, I think a YAY! is needed for finally completing and posting this chapter. I know it's been ages and I'm really sorry about that. But it's better late than never, right? If you haven't noticed, I replaced the Chapter 2 I had posted previously with this version because I re-wrote the chapter. The journal entry is the same, and some parts here and there are the same. What changed was that I added quite a bit and also removed the fight Annie has with her dad. I just didn't think it fit, even when I initially wrote it, it just wasn't sitting right with me. The re-write also has a lot more Annie in it, you get inside her head a bit more and see her reasoning behind things. The previous version was more a narration and I didn't like it. I also did add a touch of Midnight Sun too to add some more Cullen action in there. I only read the first chapter of it, which is what Stephenie Meyer had posted before the partial draft was leaked. At this point I may use some of midnight sun only for when Edward watches Bella sleep, since Annie would take witness to that. But as for reading the whole draft I'm still undecided and probably won't use it unless I truly need it.
Before I end this absurdly long author's note I just wanted to mention one thing about Annie and Edward's mind reading. I haven't been asked but I'm sure it'll cross your mind sooner or later of whether Edward would be hearing Annie's thoughts. The answer is he can, Annie doesn't have some shield or barrier on her mind, it's very much readable. BUT, because Annie is so distanced from herself, is very quiet and often blends in and goes unnoticed, her thoughts take the same route. So it's not that he can't hear her, it's just that her thoughts go unnoticed, they slip under the radar behind everyone else's thoughts. Annie kind of disconnects from herself when she's observing, she puts all of her focus and energy into someone else, so in a sense she loses herself and her thoughts. But there will come a time when no one else is around, giving Annie's thoughts nowhere to hide.
Alright, sorry about the length of this note I know this is ridiculously long but I hope it explains my reasoning behind the re-write and maybe answers some questions. I hope you enjoy the chapter, it is verryyy long!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, all credit for the lovely story belongs to Stephenie Meyer!
Just a reminder, the *** marks the end of the journal entry:)
The Cullens: My Favourite Subjects
Nothing had ruptured the bubble surrounding the town of Forks like the arrival of the Cullen family two years ago. Forks would be welcoming a new doctor, along with his wife, someone new for the housewives of Forks to gossip about, and five new kids at Forks high school. Not much was known about them, except that they lived in Alaska before moving to Forks. That alone rose questions in my mind, like why would they choose rainy, dreary, little Forks to relocate to? Surely, a doctor could be much more successful in a big city. Why choose a small town that has nothing but rainy days and seas of green to offer? Soon, all of my thoughts revolved around the Cullens as I tried to break the mystery of who they were before they arrived. People tend to be quite predictable, but not this family. Anxiety brewed in me for the moment I would first lay my eyes on them, to finally figure them out.
I met the five Cullen kids first, on their first day of school. Calling them 'kids' is a huge understatement. They were more like Gods as they stepped out of their expensive, shiny cars and glided towards the school. That was the first time I noticed something was obscure about the way they moved. Their walks weren't casual or like the normal stride of the average teenager rushing to class. It was too perfect, almost forced. They strode along the pavement smoothly, but robotically, as if their bodies were capable of more than they allowed to be visible. On top of that, they didn't seem to express any of the mannerisms many people do when heedlessly walking into a building, like the flip of the hair or licking your lips. There was nothing. Their expressions seemed to be etched in stone, failing to move in even the slightest twitch.
Rumours began to slither their way around the school and I caught snippets of them here and there. Some people claimed they were all models that were tired of the rich life and wanted to try their hand at being normal. Others commented on how some of them looked too old to be in high school, so they must be stupid and had to repeat the twelfth grade . The rumour was squashed dead like a bug when their academic excellence shone through as the school year progressed, each of them scoring in at the top of their classes.
Then it became known that the five of them, three boys and two girls, were adopted by Dr. Cullen and his wife. That, and they were all together. All of them, except for Edward. That piece of knowledge instantly made them the greatest thing to ever happen to me. That mere tidbit made them the strangest family to ever reside in Forks and prime subjects for my observation. People started thinking that Dr. Cullen and his wife played match maker for orphans and hoped they could be adopted too. That rumour made a laugh escape from me the day I heard it, a sound that rarely ever presents itself to the open air willingly.
I grew extremely curious of the family and could barely contain my excitement for when I would be able to see them next, at lunch. That is, until the interaction I had with Edward Cullen in my physics class before lunch.
I took my usual seat in the back of my physics class, awaiting the arrival of our always late teacher, Mr. Barns, who left Forks by the end of that year for a better job in Chicago. That's when the living Adonis appeared in the threshold, scanning the room for an open seat. I noticed one next to mine and my mind became active with my own thoughts, something that seldom occurs. I began thinking 'Oh good Lord in heaven he's gorgeous, please don't sit next to me. Don't sit here!' as he strode up the aisle way. He glanced at me, smirking, then turned to find another seat. It boggled my mind that he was standing in front of an open seat, about to take it, and then suddenly turned to find another. Was he some kind of mind reader? The sheer consideration of such a thing was ludicrous, and yet I found myself believing it whole heartedly. I tried to test him during class by repeating his name in my head, saying anything silently to get his attention. He didn't react, not in the slightest bit. So, he either ignored me or couldn't hear me after all. I left class feeling like an idiot for talking to myself in my head, trying to get the attention of a boy who would never look twice at me otherwise.
Lunch was where my excitement sky rocketed. I retreated to my corner, conveniently situated across from the table the Cullen's chose to sit at. Once they were all seated together, I noticed many similarities among the supposedly adopted children. Despite all of them being drop dead gorgeous, they all had very pale skin. Well, I guess everyone in Forks did, but theirs was paler than anyone else here, practically white. Another interesting similarity was their eye color. They each have topaz coloured eyes. Their eyes were pure, liquid gold. It was an eye color I've never seen before. And isn't eye colour hereditary? But their physical attributes weren't the only similarities they shared, it was barely scratching the surface to their strangeness. They each had trays heaping with all kinds of food, all of which went untouched. They just sat there, picking at the food to make it look as if they were eating it, but they didn't actually ingest any of it. There would be periods of time where they would be completely motionless. Not even their chests moved in reaction to breathing, as if they didn't breathe at all. Then one of them would suddenly cough and shift positions or strum their fingers on the table top, as if someone had given them a cue to do so. It was like every slight, human gesture was forced. Even the intervals in which they blinked was timed out, their eyelids shuttering every eight seconds; I counted. It seemed to me that they strived to blend in, instead of stand out like they so blatantly did. It was during those precious forty-five minutes of observation that I heard the feverish scratching of a secret underneath the surface of the facade the Cullen siblings put on. Whatever they were hiding was huge and I was going to figure it out.
I met Mrs. Cullen later that same day in the dairy aisle of the Thriftway. She was buying food as if it were the end of the world and needed to stock up. She looked physically identical to her 'adopted' children. She was gorgeous, pale and had topaz coloured eyes. Dr. Cullen happened to be shopping with Mrs. Cullen and he too held the same physical qualities as Mrs. Cullen and their children. Why did they all look the same? Something about their story wasn't right. It was after meeting them all that I knew they weren't what they claimed to be.
After two years of steady observation, I still haven't figured out what their secret is. The actions I observed on their first day seemed to mimic themselves every day after that. Well, every day except on the rare occasion that the sun appears in the sky, without clouds to shield it. It's during those sunny days that the Cullens don't show up to school or work. They claim to be hiking and enjoying the good weather, but something tells me that's not what they're really doing.
The Cullens remain a mystery to me and I've begun to think that I have to take special measures to unravel their secret. They are so immaculately different from any living being I've ever had the pleasure of observing and it's their strange disparity that has me absolutely addicted to them. My addiction has created this need deep inside me to uncover their secret once and for all, to get to the bottom of who they really are. I would never consider myself capable of successfully stalking anyone, but it looks as though that's the only way to get the information I'm longing for. I've observed, analyzed and searched for two years and have come up empty handed every time. My speculations of them being more than human, a more evolved species or something of that nature, will remain mere speculations unless I carry my observing skills a step further. As the days go on without answers, I fear it's the only thing left to do.
***
I pushed my laptop off to the side and reflected on my latest journal entry about the family that has stumped me like no other human being has ever been able to. I'll admit I sort of lost interest in them after a while. It just seemed silly for me to persist towards something I'd never get, to frustrate myself for nothing. But after writing my findings on the Cullens, are my speculations truly nothing? I know, deep in my gut, that there is something wrong with that family. How could I be faithful to my craft if I'm so willing to give up on my favourite subjects? I had to do something, but what that something would be I wasn't sure of yet.
I heard a car drive into the driveway and my mind switched into observation mode. My bed was conveniently positioned horizontally against the wall, underneath my window, so it would be quick and easy for me to open it and eavesdrop on anything going on outside. I turned to my window, unlatched the lock and listened intently. I heard two car doors slam shut and footsteps slap against the black pavement of the driveway. It was silent, the sound of a kiss echoing up to me. I was praying that the couple making out outside wasn't my dad and Grace.
"Thanks for a great time, Francis." Grace cooed. I rolled my eyes and slouched against the wall. My teeth began grind against each other as my jaw clenched and my breathing quickened as anger spread throughout my entire body.
"It was my pleasure." My dad replied, pausing for a moment. "Sorry about Annie, she's still hung up on her mom is all. Can't blame her." He said, as if I broke the law and he was negotiating with an officer to take it easy on me. My nails began to dig into my mattress, my fingers curling up into claws. A tear formed at the edge of my left eye, but I was too angry to let it fall. I closed my eyes for a moment, pushing it back, and opened them slowly in a fury.
"Oh of course not. I hope I'm not causing any problems between you two." Grace said, the tone of her voice erupting with falsities. How did dad not see how fake she is? I grunted with frustration.
"Nah, don't you think that. You're too good to me, Grace." He said. Bile slithered up my throat.
"I should go." Grace breathed. I heard the sound of suctioned lips separating and then a car's engine roared to life as Grace drove away. She honked twice and I wondered if she did it just to irritate me.
I slid out of bed and stomped towards the door, anger fuelling the fire that burned inside of me, preparing to unleash itself on my father. Charlie's voice interrupted me when I reached my door. I scurried back to the window and listened.
"Hey Francis, what are you up to?" Charlie hollered from his lawn. I could hear the sound of his feet shuffling through the grass as he walked across his property and on to ours.
"Oh, not too much, Charlie. You?"
"Just getting things ready for my Isabella, I pick her up tomorrow. Just bought that truck there off of Billy Black for her."
"That's a nice piece of machinery there. Are you ready to have her back?"
"I think so. It'll be nice having her here. She's been gone so long, I feel like I don't know her much."
"Yeah, well teenagers are tricky. Annie's been with me her entire life and sometimes I feel like I don't know her at all." As my dad paused, I felt my anger dwindle down to sadness and the tear I was reluctant to let fall burst into millions of droplets streaming down my cheeks.
"Ah well, I'm sure your Isabella will feel right at home." My dad interrupted the silence.
"Ah, yep." Charlie sighed. "Alright, well goodnight Francis." Charlie said, the sound of his feet shuffling in the grass filled the silence again.
My face found my pillow and I sobbed into it. It shocked me to hear that my dad felt like he didn't know me. I guess I'm not always that fervent about conversing with him or hanging out with him, but I never thought I was such a stranger to him.
I heard the muffled sound of the TV from downstairs and decided to curl up on the couch next to good ol' Francis and let him know I loved him. I wiped the tears from my face and slowly tiptoed down the stairs. He was sitting on the far left side of the green, leather couch, watching Dracula. I rolled my eyes and smiled. He always loved those vampire movies and I was always there to scold him about it, to crush the five year old boy inside of him that wished such creatures existed with my realism. I slowly walked around the couch and hesitated to sit down. He looked up at me and smiled, his head tilted to the left and his chest expanded with air as he sighed. His tongue slapped against the roof of his mouth as he opened it to speak.
"I know, I know, it's kid's stuff." He said, shaking his head.
"No, dad. It's cool." I said, the corner of my lip tugging by force into a smile. He nodded his head to the left and lifted his arm. I nestled myself underneath his arm as he rubbed my back, my eye lids growing heavy as I tuned out the sound of the TV.
I awoke to beams of sunlight cutting through the room, illuminating the dust in the air. It was strange to be awoken by sunlight. My eyes burned in reaction to the brightness, as if I've never been exposed to the sun before. The warmth on my cheek felt nice though, and I smiled in reaction to the pleasance of it. The light in the room slowly began to fade and my brows furrowed as I realized that the sun had been overcome by the never ending blanket of clouds that hovered above Forks. I rolled to my side and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. It felt early, too early in fact. I groaned, feeling groggy and tired. I reluctantly forced myself to sit up and was hit with tension in the centre of my back. I stretched, hoping to relieve the pain, and then trudged up the stairs to my room. I flopped face down on to my bed and closed my eyes to sleep just a little longer.
I was woken up again later to the sound of Charlie's police cruiser pulling in to his driveway. The sunlight that had brightened the house earlier today had not resurfaced and the gloomy, grey hue of the outdoors seeped through the window, lighting it just enough to see my surroundings. I began to think that being woken up by the sun was only a dream. The sun hasn't made an appearance in a while and I sort of missed it. It was silly really, to miss the sun. It's not like the sun was a common expectation here, more like a miracle every once in a while, reminding us we're still a part of the world and not just some closed off patch of land separated from the rest of the world by a dome of clouds.
I figured it was late afternoon by now. I could hear the tip tap of rain on my window sill, the nuisance of a sound that reminds me that this is as good as it's ever going to get. I was about to roll over and sleep some more when a new voice pierced my ears. Isabella Swan has arrived. I hopped up in my bed and stared down at the Swan's front yard.
"Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!" She said, ogling her new, old truck. She examined her truck, her eyes widening as they became fully aware of the enormity and ferocity of the seemingly indestructible mass of bulbous metal.
At first glance, Isabella Swan didn't seem like anything special and I assumed that everyone's expectations of her would be shot down the moment they laid eyes on her. She was very plain with her long, dull looking brown hair, slender build and average clothing. Her skin was quite pale, which was odd for someone who apparently lived in Phoenix. Maybe it was the lighting, or lack thereof, in Forks that washed the color of out her skin. The palette of skin shades isn't a vast one in Forks, eventually we all become roughly the same hue, lacking lustre. People arrive here with olive or pink undertones and leave with grey. Forks is like a town that has been painted in grey scale with splashes of green here and there. Except for the Cullens, of course, whose pale skin shone above the rest. Their skin had almost a glisten or sheen to it, like marble or ceramic. It's strange, but then again what about the Cullens isn't?
Isabella seemed disinterested and unimpressed by her new hometown. I pushed my face up against the ice cold glass of my window and squinted, trying to see the expression on her face. There was just something about her that held my interest. Normally when someone arrives at a new place, or one they haven't been to in a while, they do a sweep of the surroundings, they show some promise, some enthusiasm. Isabella lacked all of that. There was no glimmer in her eye as she lazily glazed her eyes over her immediate surroundings. She acted as if she were happy and was polite towards Charlie, but I wondered if maybe she resented coming here. She glanced up in my direction and I moved out of her line of sight while still keeping my eyes on her. It was the first time I saw her eyes and the first time I realized there may be more to Isabella Swan than the plainness she illustrated. The expression in her eyes hinted to a deeper sadness, to dishevelled emotions that shielded themselves behind spheres of chocolate brown. Isabella Swan intrigued me; something I hadn't expected to happen.
"I'm glad you like it." Charlie said in response to Bella's reaction to her truck. He seemed awkward and embarrassed around her. He avoided any eye contact with her, his gaze shifting from the ground to the house across the street, the truck and then to his own house. Charlie and Isabella stood quite a bit away from each other, as if an invisible bar kept them from getting any closer. If I didn't know they were father and daughter I'd assume they were two strangers, forced to share this awkward moment in time together. There was no visible connection between them. Charlie looked painfully uncomfortable and didn't know how to act around his daughter, who clearly longed to be left alone. I couldn't blame her, really. I suppose we were similar in that way, preferring our own company as opposed to having to fake contentedness for other people.
I watched as Charlie carried Isabella's things into the house and to her room. She didn't have many bags with her, which made me wonder whether Gladys was right about her all along, that she didn't plan on staying for very long and was flighty like her mother. Or maybe she was just plain and didn't own much, travelling with only the bare essentials.
I could see Isabella's room clearly from my window. I could see the yellow, lace curtains that framed her window and the light blue color of the far wall of her room. I could see the desk Charlie added as she grew, and the old computer that I watched him carry from his car to her room a few weeks ago. That was about it in terms of his preparations for Isabella's arrival. Charlie is a fairly simple guy and evidently had no idea how to prepare for a seventeen year old girl. I think he figured she'd let him know once she arrived if she needed anything else. But, Isabella seemed to be just as simple as Charlie is and I doubted she would require much else.
Charlie placed her things on the floor by the door and left Isabella alone. After one hour of what I could only imagine was an ill at ease car ride, it was probably best that they each had some space to breathe and settle in with their new living arrangements.
It was when Isabella was alone that her true emotions broke through the surface. She stared out of her window miserably as a few tears fell from her cheeks, blending into the beads of rain that ran down her window. It would have been impossible to even detect her tears if it were for her parted, downturned lips and the quick, steady and heavy rising of her chest. It was there, gazing out the window, silently uttering her despair to the world, that the plain, seventeen year old girl became a complex individual full of substance. I was astonished by her state, watching intently as she stared out, oblivious to the pair of eyes piercing into her from afar.
She turned away moments later, retreating to her bed. I had a feeling she wouldn't be sleeping very soundly, what with the worries of a new school and being the new girl. Plus, the constant patter of rain was something she'd probably need to grow accustomed to, a sound that was like a lullaby to the inhabitants of Forks.
I turned away from the window, pressing my back into the wall just underneath it and stared at my bedroom door. I sighed, realizing I should probably make a brief appearance downstairs. If I didn't, good ol' Francis would come and check on me and then break into a long discussion about how I spend too much time alone. I exaggerated a smile, practicing for when I faced my dad, and then slowly slid my feet against the hardwood floor towards the door.
"Pumpkin is that you?" He hollered from the bottom of the stairs.
"Yeah" I said, appearing at the top of the stairs, plopping one foot after the other down each step.
"I made macaroni and cheese tonight, your favourite!" He said, scooping some out of a pot with a wooden spoon. My eyebrows elevated and I turned my lips up and into a smile, releasing it as soon as he turned his back to me. I slid into my usual spot, across from my dad and waited for him to slide my plate over. He took his seat and stared at me as I poked at noodles with my fork. He cleared his throat, signalling a forced conversation to break the silence. Couldn't we eat in peace just once?
"So, you been sleeping all day?" He said, his eyes on his plate. His tone was low and what he said was more of a statement than a question. He hated when I confined myself to my room and slept all day. He would claim I was wasting away my youth, that back in his day he barely slept a wink because he wanted to savour it. He would then throw in the famous line, 'you can't be seventeen forever, Annie' and I'd throw out some comeback like, 'yeah I can, there's creams for that now' and he'd sigh and give up.
I wasn't in the mood for that today. So, I lied.
"No, I've been doing homework. I have a huge test coming up." I said, my eyes never leaving the colony of macaroni noodles on my plate. I shoved an over-loaded fork full of macaroni into my mouth and chomped down.
"Oh" He said, frozen. He leaned into the back of his chair, his fork hovering in mid air and his mouth full of food, extended in an 'O' shape. He then relaxed and continued eating. I guess I'm a pretty good liar. "How's that going?" He asked casually.
"It's alright." I shrugged. I chewed slowly, hoping that the conversation was over. Silence loomed between us for a few moments and I was amazed that this might actually end peacefully; silent. Dad took a swig of water, slapped his tongue off the roof of his mouth and took in a breath. Here we go again.
"Charlie's daughter's in town, finally." He said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Oh yeah?" I said quietly, acting indifferent to the situation.
"Yup. Just saw 'em pull in. I was thinking maybe you could go over there, introduce yourself." He said, his hand cupping his glass as he stared at me, waiting for a response. My gaze raised slowly to meet his. I gulped and my lips parted as I tried to formulate an answer.
"I don't know, Dad. She probably needs some time to settle in, get used to things. I'll just meet her tomorrow at school." I said, lifting my glass to my lips as I finished my sentence.
"Will you, Annie?" He asked, his head lowering, but his gaze cutting into me at the same angle. He was pleading with me. Why did this matter to him so much? I held my glass in front of my mouth as I chewed on my bottom lip. I nodded slightly, hoping he would change the subject. He nodded once, leaned back in his chair, placed his hand on his belly and smiled.
"Look at it as an opportunity, hm? You may find a great friend in her." I stared at him as he said this, analyzing the smug look on his face. He was acting as if he was doing me a favour by pushing me to meet this girl. She was the new one here, she needs to make friends. I've lived here my entire life, I don't need to make new acquaintances. Everyone either knows me or knows of me, and that's good enough for me.
"Whatever, Dad." I said, shaking my head as I picked up my plate and glass and brought them to the sink. I heard him sigh behind me and just knew he was tugging one corner of his lip up, questioning himself as to what else he could do. I could practically feel the weight of his head as he shook it slowly from side to side. I started to feel a burning pressure build on top of my shoulders. I dug the palms of my hands into the edge of the counter for support as I hindered my breathing in reaction to the sting of pressure. I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut tightly and watched as the black haze behind my lids separated into balls and swirls of golden light that stained red and formed the word 'FAILURE', blaring at me from inside. Warm liquid began to build at the seams of my eyelids as they shook and eventually fluttered open.
Didn't he know I was trying? Can't he understand how hard this is for me? How am I supposed to get to know someone when I don't even know myself? I wish he could see the constant battle I have with myself, trying to dig deep and let who I am – who I was – resurface, only to be faced with a gut wrenching fear of what else would come of it, what I might remember. If I even prick through the wall I've built the only thing it will bring is bad memories and a pain refuse to face again. I've buried it deep, deeper than the depths of the ocean. Maybe my subconscious buried it for a reason. But he'll never know that. He'll never understand that I'm not the Annie I used to be, that I'm scarred; damaged beyond repair. He will never know because I won't let him, for it would only hurt him and I couldn't bear to be the cause of his pain, to shatter the happiness he's spent years building back up. I realize I've slowly wedged a crack in his happiness and now I need to plaster it.
"I'll talk to Isabella tomorrow, Dad. It'll be great." I said, unable to look at him. I didn't want to read what he wasn't telling me, to see what he really felt about the situation; about me. I heard the screech of his chair as it slid against the rough, tiled floor and the swoosh of his feet as he dragged them towards me. He placed his hand on my right shoulder, gripping once then patting twice.
"That's good, kiddo." He whispered, placing a light kiss on the top of my head before making his way to the couch.
I stared at him as he flipped through the channels on the TV. He was such a simple, pleasant, laid back guy and I was such a complicated teenager with major issues. He didn't deserve a daughter like me. I knew I had to change, to face the past and move on but something deep down forbade me to do it, forcing me to stay in this limbo between who I was and who I'm supposed to be. But I would try again, I would fight for it this time, for Francis.
I shuffled upstairs to my room with a new determination, one that evaporated just as quickly as if formulated. I sat on my bed, my arms wrapped around my knees as I rocked back and forth, shaking my head. I couldn't do it. I couldn't go back to that day everything changed. It would put everything into question, force me to face something I've worked so hard to forget. No. I wouldn't do it, at least not tonight.
The difficult part was burying the thoughts that chipped away at the barrier in my mind. It's like when you're told not to think of something, only to automatically have that something come to mind. It's hard to stop thinking about it, and even when you're not thinking about it you're thinking about not thinking about it. There's no escaping it, unless you abandon yourself completely, something I've become an expert at over the years. I've abandoned myself more times than I can ever keep track of, adding another layer to barrier.
I needed a distraction, I needed to take my mind away from this. New girl is sleeping, so I have nothing to observe, no one to put all of my energy into to take the focus away from myself. I concentrated on the sounds around me; the tapping of water droplets flinging against my window mixed with the muffled sounds of my dad cleaning the kitchen as he watched ESPN.
I slowly became deaf to all other sounds except the tip tap of the rain, it too slowly fading into silence. I felt drowsy in the silence, allowing my heavy lids to close, drifting me off into a deep sleep.
I woke up earlier than I usually would for school, since I didn't exactly revel in the idea of being stuck in a building full of teenagers for six hours. But today was different. Today, Isabella Swan would be experiencing her first morning as a resident of Forks and her first day of school and I would be there to experience it with her. I checked my alarm clock that blared 7:09 AM in a deep red light, illuminating the subtle darkness of my room. I hurried to the bathroom to brush my teeth, pulled my hair back into a ponytail, changed clothes and skidded back into my room. I hopped on to my bed and perched at the window, attentively watching for any movements made at the Swan residence. There was a thick fog hovering in the air. I sighed, hoping it would lift before anything good happened.
I could faintly see Isabella as she stared out her window, examining the fog that seemed to disappear into the sky, as if it didn't exist. She'll get used to not seeing the sky anymore. Maybe she'll find comfort in it someday, like I do. It doesn't make you wonder what's out there when there's no sky. That way, you never feel like you're missing out on anything, like everything there is to see and experience is already here. There is no 'out there', it's just whatever's here.
Isabella left her room for a while, leaving me to wait in agony, wondering what she's doing in there. I began making up different scenarios of what she'd be doing. In one, she told Charlie she made a mistake and wanted to go home. In another, she and Charlie silently ate breakfast, with Charlie's head hovering mere centimetres above his plate to avoid eye contact with her. She had her eyes glued to Charlie's peculiar behaviour while eating and decided it was good she moved here because her awkward father needed her.
The sound of an engine starting startled me and my mind dropped back into reality as my gaze shifted directly to the Swan residence.
I noticed Charlie leave first in his cruiser, leaving his daughter to fend for herself on her first morning here. Charlie has always been very immersed in his work and it didn't look like having his daughter back would change that. I suppose the awkwardness is still lingering between them.
Isabella exited the house shortly after Charlie did, locking the door to the house and hurrying to her truck to escape the mist. She won't be doing that every morning, she'll break the habit. Pretty soon she won't even feel the cool, wetness of a light drizzle, she'll become numb to it. The only time I even notice rain anymore is if it's pouring down in thick droplets. A light mist or drizzle is irrelevant.
I rushed out of my door, practically sliding down the stairs, grabbed my coat and keys and ran outside so that I could follow Isabella to school, to ensure that I wouldn't miss anything. I heard my dad call out to me from behind the morning paper but I was in such a hurry that I didn't hear what he said. He probably wanted to remind me to say hello to Isabella when I got to school or something. There was no backing out now, I told him I'd do it. But I figured if I could avoid him long enough I could come up with a good enough lie about my meeting with Isabella, or make up some freak incident that prevented me from getting even a glance in her direction all day, that an introduction would have been completely impossible. It was becoming pretty clear that I had no intention of interacting with Isabella, but rather around her as I hovered like a ghost by her shoulder throughout the entire day as best as I could. That's close enough to saying hi, right?
I stopped in my driveway, watching as she jumped in her seat, startled by the loud roar of her truck coming to life. Her expression shifted from surprise to acceptance, as if she knew something like that would happen. It was an old truck after all, she had to have expected some kind of complication. She began to pull out of her driveway and my mind snapped back into action. I hurried to manually unlock the door of my car; a 1994 beige Plymouth Accord. It wasn't the hottest car out there, but that didn't matter to me. It was small, it blended in and it was mine. I threw my backpack into the passenger seat, slid into the driver's seat and started the ignition.
I fumbled with my seat belt as I drove, trying to close the gap between my car and Isabella's truck, yet staying far enough away that she didn't get suspicious. I was about to forget about the seat belt altogether, but Charlie's voice echoed in the back of my mind, lecturing me about car safety. I stood in my driveway for about an hour the day I got my license because Francis insisted I listen to Charlie's precautions before stepping behind the wheel. He was funny to watch as he spoke awkwardly, scratching at his chin with his thumb, avoiding any and all eye contact. I smiled to myself as I finally managed to get the seat belt to snap into place, victory at last.
The drive to school was a short one, but I found myself growing more and more frustrated with my current position. I could not see Isabella this way. I wished I could see her expressions has she took in the sights Forks had to offer, longing to observe her.
She found the high school fairly easily, not that it was very difficult to find. It was just off the highway, like pretty much everything else. I slowed down so that I could catch a glimpse of her from the side as she turned into the parking lot. She didn't look very impressed. She gazed at the maroon-bricked buildings that made up Forks high as if something were missing. I assume high schools in big cities like Phoenix are different, more like the ones in movies with metal detectors and security guards, where students look like inmates. That setting would match the way I felt whenever I came here: incarcerated.
Isabella parked her truck in front of the first building where the front office is, assumingly to pick up her schedule. Unbeknownst to her, that parking lot was reserved to visitors and often used by some of the staff. It was mostly always empty though, since there wasn't a need for much parking when, now, only 358 students attended Forks High, and only a small fraction of that number are actually able to drive. I parked by the curb, a couple of feet from her parked truck. She hesitated to get out at first. She gazed out of her window, eyeing the fresh bubbles of water that stuck to it. I guess she isn't a fan of rain, but that's just something she'd have to get used to if she wants to live in Forks. She inhaled deeply, prepping herself before venturing out into the rain and to the office. Then she swiftly opened the door and walked at a quick pace to the building, entering inside.
I fought with myself while I watched her go in, wanting so badly to see how the first person she'd meet today would react and how she would interact with them. At the same time, I knew I couldn't go in without some type of excuse that would no doubt keep me in the front office after Isabella would have left. So, I tortured myself by remaining in my car. I watched the door like a hawk eyeing its prey, cars obscuring my vision every so often as one would drive by, signalling the arrival of students that began to line up to get into the student parking lot. Finally, she came out of the door and hurried back to the safety of her truck. I put my car in drive and waited for her to back out so that I could pull in behind her. I happened to cut off Tyler Crowley, who honked at me aggressively in response. I didn't care, he'd get over it. I needed to be behind Isabella, I could not – would not – miss this opportunity.
Isabella took a spot and cut the engine of her truck immediately, her head turning from left to right to see if anyone noticed her. I conveniently took the spot next to her, pretending to rummage through my bag, while inconspicuously watching her. She pulled out a map of the campus and studied it for a few minutes. I took this opportunity to glance around at the students who were making their way to class and noticed the new addition to our parking lot. Everyone was walking slower, turning back every so often to see if she had stepped out of her car yet. I reverted my gaze back to Isabella, who was taking in a deep breath before she stepped out of her truck, as if to brace herself for the impact of 714 staring eyes. I quickly flung open the door of my car, whipped my back pack over my shoulder and followed her. She walked at a very quick pace and kept her face hidden in her hood. It appeared as though she was trying everything humanly possible to be invisible. Her stance was very constricted, as if trying to make herself smaller, unnoticeable. Her body language projected in every way that she wanted to be left alone, to blend in and avoid attention. I looked up at the students around us as we made our way to building 3, which was where I needed to be anyway, and noticed everyone's eyes glued to the new girl. Isabella's tactics to go unseen were failing. Sure, she didn't necessarily stand out with what she was wearing or the car she drove, in fact she fit right in. But in a school with less than 400 students, a new face will never go unnoticed and even though she tried everything in her power to hide hers, it didn't make a difference. Isabella's arrival has been hyped up for weeks and now everyone was observing the new sights in the usually boring confines of Forks High. It was like watching a child catch sight of a flashy new toy, watching the curiosity and desire build in their eyes. I found myself rolling my eyes multiple times as girls looked her up and down, surveying the new competition and clinging to their boyfriends. Their arms would tightly intertwine with that of a boy standing next to them as they claimed their territory. Boys also assessed the new body that quickly brushed past them, checking out the new merchandise and wondering how get their hands on it. The girls were more interesting to watch, though. It was the way they'd narrow in on one part of her and then look down at themselves to compare themselves to her. Some girls' faces would drop and shy away from Isabella as she passed by when they noticed something about her was better. Others would raise an eyebrow or snicker when seeing her, thinking there was nothing special about her. A fine example of this jealous, holier than thou type was Jessica Stanley, who has been preparing for the arrival of her new rival ever since the moment she caught wind of it. Jessica scoffed the moment her eyes landed in Isabella's general direction.
I moved past Isabella and in front of her, landing in between her and Britney, a blonde-haired girl in my English class. Britney and I made our way to the coat rack by the door, removed our jackets and took our seats. Mine was, naturally, at the back of the class in the right corner. It gave me a perfect view of all of the students, as well as the door. I noticed Isabella copy Britney and I by hanging her coat up on the rack, just below mine. She then walked up to Mr. Mason and handed him a slip of paper. He then proceeded to gawk at her as soon as he read her name on the slip. I wasn't too surprised of this, considering anyone else would have had the same reaction. Everyone in town knew about Isabella's history, how her mom left Charlie, how she miraculously decided to move to Forks after not visiting at all for four years. We've heard so much about her that it was like getting to meet a celebrity. One with a bit of a shady past. Isabella's cheeks blushed a brilliant, bright red under Mr. Mason's gaze. He then directed her to a seat in row before mine, two seats over from where I was sitting. She sunk in her chair, kept her eyes down and hid behind her hair.
This hiding thing of hers was making me very impatient. How on earth was I supposed to observe someone without seeing their face? Body language is so obvious, so two-dimensional, but the face...oh the face is the powerhouse of expression. It is the master of hidden emotions. Something as simple as a smile, often construed as happiness, can mean hundreds of different things. The mouth alone is so complex, in the ways it can contort itself into different shapes and dimensions, each bearing its own significant meaning, all the while being totally unobtrusive and hidden behind the simplicity of a smile, of the gesture intertwined with contentment. And the eyes, the entire area in and surrounding the eye and what they are capable of is almost inconceivable. A subtle twitch, furrow or raising of the eyebrow, the tremor of the eyeballs, the movement an eye makes as it navigates in the socket – it's all so fascinating. Even the cheeks and nose play a part in the wonders that is a face. Put all of these components together and it creates the most fascinating and beautiful orchestra of movement and emotion. It's what makes us human. An animal can't do what a human can with its face, and even if it has the capability, it doesn't have the meaning behind it. The human face is an anatomy that will forever intrigue me and hold a powerful grasp over me like nothing else ever could.
So it's understandable that not seeing Isabella's face was like torture. I could base my observations on her stance, but it hasn't changed even the slightest bit since she got here. She's still constricted and closed in on herself, trying to go unnoticed.
I was enjoying watching other people's reactions to her rather than watching Isabella directly. My aggravation led me to think that maybe she wasn't as intriguing as I thought she'd be, that my initial assumptions of her at first glance were correct. Maybe she's just your average, generic thinking teenager who just wants to fit in at a new school without attracting attention. I rolled my eyes and lolled my head to the left in disappointment. All of my hopes for an exciting day were smothered by Isabella's fear of being the centre of attention. It was something I didn't quite understand. I suppose being put under the scrutiny of 357 pairs of eyes isn't the most sought after position, but at least people were taking an interest in her. She'd fit right in, be popular even. That's something every teenage girl wants. Why was she shying away from it? Why did she try so hard to blend in? For a minute there, she reminded me of the Cullens; vigorously trying to blend in while inadvertently standing out. Thinking of the Cullens brought something to look forward to, which was Isabella's reaction to them. The Cullens obviously aren't average looking. Maybe that would get a reaction out of her, hopefully one that doesn't involve hiding behind a hood or hair.
The bell finally rang after what seemed like an eternity of mindless banter about that Shakespeare fellow. I noticed Eric Yorkie begin to make his way up to Isabella and couldn't help but release the smile that tugged at the corners of my lips. I slowly gathered my books while I watched Isabella's first interaction with a student. Butterflies flapped in my stomach, fuelling my excitement. I suppressed a giggle that tickled the tip of my tongue as I remembered the battle for Isabella's affections that were declared in the diner between Eric and Mike. Looks like Eric might be the winner, considering he got to her first. I was a bit let down, though. I had hoped Mike would be the one to win her heart since that would no doubt send Jessica into a frenzy. A slight chuckle escaped the confines of my throat and I held my breath for a moment, before realizing that the sound had gone unnoticed. Typical.
Eric looked a bit nervous and jittery as he approached Isabella.
"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" He asked, stating the obvious. He seemed over-eager and I feared he'd give himself away in the first minute of speaking to her.
"Bella" She corrected. My head snapped in her direction, my lips parted, releasing a very subtle gasp and my eyes widened in reaction to the sound of her voice and the new piece of information that escaped her lips. I realized I've already heard her speak before, but it sounded differently when she was close by and it startled me. You get so used to hearing the same voices all the time that a new one seems so foreign. I wasn't the only one who reacted to the new voice that radiated within the four walls of the classroom. Everyone who was close enough to hear her speak turned to see who the new voice belonged to.
She preferred to be called Bella. That's a relief, Isabella is quite a mouthful. Bella it is, then. Eric looked kind of wounded when she corrected him, for his lips pressed together and his head moved back slightly. He bounced back quickly though and asked her what her next class is. Eric would most likely escort her there, even if his next class is nowhere near hers, and try to act like the perfect gentleman. Not to say Eric wasn't a gentleman, in his own right, but he was also a teenage boy in competition with his best friend, as well as every teenage male in Forks. I wouldn't put it past him to try every trick up his sleeve to get her to notice him above all the rest. Eric put up a good fight, but it's Mike's attempt that I was most looking forward to.
Bella checked her schedule and announced that she had Government next with Jefferson. I was completely stunned. How could it be possible that we have yet another class together? My luck had to end somewhere. I hated surprises and having to wait in anticipation for the unknown. I fought the urge to steal Bella's schedule for a moment, just to see what classes I did have with her and what periods I'd have to sit with a burning anxiety, wondering what she's up to.
I noticed Eric and Bella moving towards the coat rack. I quickly scooped up my books and shuffled out of class behind them, keeping a safe gap between us yet remaining fairly close. The conversation was dull and generic. Eric asked Bella about Phoenix, stating the obvious that it's different from Forks. I weaved in and out of the sluggish crowd, clutching my books to my chest while keeping my head slightly turned to the side so that my ear would be closer to the echo of their voices. I ended up missing what Bella said after Eric pointed out the obvious yet again and caught on when Eric made the stupid comment of how she wasn't tanned. I shook my head, wondering how he could ever have thought that comment could be construed as a compliment. Of course, that's the way to a woman's heart, tell her she looks pale, it's what we all want to hear!
"My mother is part albino" She said with a subtle hint of sarcasm. I couldn't help but giggle, sending vibrations to the centre of my throat. She had a sense of humour, I liked that.
Eric was continuing to make a fool of himself as he stopped to study her face, his expression questioning. His eyes squinted slightly as he scanned her features. He actually thought she was serious. He was looking for signs of albinism in her. I shook my head in disbelief. Nobody understands good sarcasm anymore. We continued to walk in silence together, although my presence wasn't exactly known. Whispers already began to feather their way through the ears of eager students at the sight of Bella and Eric together. He walked her right up to the door then headed back to building four. Bella didn't seem too impressed with him. Looks like the odds are in Mike's favour.
Government was extremely uneventful. I found myself sighing a lot, drifting into my own little world as class droned on. I wished I could read minds, that would heighten my observing to an entirely new level. It would be amazing, the only true way to know what someone is really like, what their secrets and emotions are. I revelled in the idea, wishing it could be possible. Mind reading would be the only way to figure out what this Bella Swan is all about, besides trying to hide from everyone. I just wished I could see more than what I've already witnessed all morning. I've practically stored the exact shade of her hair to memory, since I've seen it so much as it covered her face. I caught a glimpse of her entire face for mere seconds as she glanced up out the window, her bottom lip folding in as she bit down on it. Her eyes were wide and glossy, the chocolate brown glistening with such depth it felt like you could swim in them. The color was thick and heavy. Her bottom lip slid from hiding for a moment, but then folded back in. I was still studying the lines of her face when she turned and shook her hair in front of her face again.
I followed her as long as I could to her next class, realizing we had the same class yet again. It was trigonometry with Mr. Varner. He made Bella introduce herself in front of the entire class. I knew, the moment he spoke the words "Please introduce yourself to the class" that it would be disastrous. The girl has been hiding all morning and now she had to stand in front of thirty kids and feel the pressure of their eyes on her. She stammered as she spoke and her cheeks blushed that brilliant red again. She would tug on her bottom lip every so often and never made eye contact with anyone. Her gaze was restricted to the floor, the window and the back wall of the class. When she finished she tripped over her own boots as she made it to her seat next to Angela Weber. Angela was friendly, asking her about Forks and how she was adjusting to the rain, a topic Bella was probably getting tired of. Her tone of voice began to lack any of the enthusiasm she somewhat had earlier in the day when the topic was fresh. She also took a look at Bella's schedule, offering to walk her to Spanish since she had it next period, and then asked Bella to sit with her at lunch. I was surprised to hear that Bella shared yet another class with me. I wondered if maybe our schedules were identical. If they were, it was a miracle. There would be nothing better for an observer than to be able to study subjects consistently. It was something I wished could be possible with the Cullens and in fact something I attempted to make possible by trying to switch my classes around, but unfortunately the switches weren't made. It's unfortunate, for the Cullens hold a never ending interest for me. But, the mystery that was Bella Swan began to lose its sheen and I was slowly losing interest. So, even if I could observe her every minute of every day, it didn't mean I would.
Spanish was another monotonous waste of an hour and a half of my life. Angela chattered about teachers and classes, trying to be helpful to Bella. Bella didn't seem to be that interested in Angela's banter though. She nodded and smiled every so often but it didn't look like her mind was in the conversation. The ticking clock seemed to get louder and louder as the end of class drew near. It hit me, amidst Angela's sweet, eager voice and Spanish vocabulary words rolling off the teacher's tongue, that lunch was next. Lunch, the block of my day that I have been most looking forward to. My day had been unexpectedly mind-numbing and I needed a crowded lunchroom full of students to observe. It was like watching wild animals at a watering hole. But the monkeys and buffoons of Forks high wasn't what I really wanted to observe. I wanted to experience the moment the eyes of Bella, a delicate lamb, met with that of the Cullens, the magnificent pride that roamed the grounds, gracing us with their presence. My mouth began feeling dry, my tongue like sand paper against my palate as I imagined the meeting. Would she continue to hide after seeing them? Would she question them? Would she even give them a second glance? The anticipation was eating away at me from the inside. I willed time to move faster, to get to the lunch hour and then press pause, slow it down and let me savour ever millisecond of it.
The ding of the bell interrupted my current salivation over the upcoming hour and I scurried past students that were filing out of the classroom, trying my best to stay close to Bella and Angela. Angela's bouncy, vivacious curls weren't difficult to spot from a distance and allowed me to keep track of Bella's whereabouts as I unintentionally drifted further into the crowd, pushing with all of my might against the shuffle of bodies. I followed Angela's hair through the crowd and into the cafeteria, where she and Bella sat the end of Angela's usual table with Jessica and the others. It was a table full of girls I wasn't particularly fond of, except for Angela who has always been very kind, and Bella, although she was quickly becoming just as boring as the others. My eyes drifted to my usual, secluded spot and I realized that it just wouldn't do, I needed to relocate. A table, seemingly chosen by the Gods just for me, was empty in the middle of the cafeteria with a perfect view of both Bella and the Cullens. It was slightly closer to Bella's table, though, and I hoped I could hear both subjects adequately above the noise. The Cullens weren't really talkers, though, so I wasn't too worried.
I took my seat, stretching my feet out to the seat across from me, and eyed the Cullens. All five of them were in the same seats they claimed two years ago, in the exact same positions. They weren't looking at anything in particular, they always acted aloof. Jasper looked like he was in agony, which wasn't completely unusual. Alice was next to him, an arm linked to his as she watched him. Rosalie and Emmett were also seated next to each other, leaning into one another. It was Edward, the lone wolf of the group, that caught my attention every time. He was staring at the wall so intently, it was as if he were studying every crack and groove of it and storing them to memory. I was about to look away when Edward moved. He actually moved. If it were any other person it would have been irrelevant, but for a Cullen to shift even the slightest bit, to rupture their statuesque poses, was almost unheard of. He slowly turned his head to the left, then to the right and then back to his original position. I noticed Alice's stance relax, ever so slightly, as if she was responding to the movement. It wasn't the usual cue for them to reallocate their bodies, since it was only Edward and Alice who reacted. It was as if they understood each other, were having a silent conversation of their own. It was the strangest thing. Maybe they were observers too, understanding each other the way only observers could. But it seemed to delve deeper than body language, for their expressions rarely changed.
I noticed a girl walk by and stand by the Cullen table, almost too close. The Cullen table was just an area of the cafeteria everyone steered clear of, it was almost instinctual. They didn't seem threatening, yet something inside alarmed us to keep a distance. Yet the girl obliviously stood there near Jasper as she spoke to a friend. I couldn't remember her name for the life of me. A part of me, a very miniscule part anyway, wanted to call out to her, to get her to move. Didn't she know she was crossing a boundary? My gaze shifted to the Cullen table, my eyes just opening from a blink when I saw Edward kick Jasper's chair, the most brisk and aggressive movement I've ever seen him articulate in the years I've known him. They were always so still and haven't even noticed Bella yet, so why the sudden change? I squinted my eyes, focusing on Edward's face and noticed the color of his eyes. They weren't the liquid gold I was used to. They were black. Pure and hauntingly black. It wasn't the first time I saw this shift in eye color, but it never lost its shock value. My gaze shifted from Edward to Rosalie, then Emmett, Jasper and Alice. All of their eyes were black. It was another strange thing, their eyes always changed color at the same time. It would be something I'd have to take a mental note of and venture into further in my next journal entry. For it was now that Bella was learning about the Cullens through Jessica, which meant that Bella had already noticed them.
I watched as Bella studied the strange group across the room, taking in the angles of their beautiful faces, almost too painful to look at for too long. She then took a special interest in Edward and asked about him. Jessica was bitter towards him for turning her down when he first moved here and she let Bella know it. Of course, she made it as if Edward were some kind of shallow, too-good-for-you type of guy, anything to detract from the fact that she simply isn't all that in a bag of chips. Edward is...well, he's Edward. You'd have to be something really, truly special in order for him to even give you a second glance and for Jessica to admit she's anything less than spectacular would be the day hell freezes over and pigs fly, both occurring the same time money comes pouring from the sky. Hence the cold tone she used when explaining who the Cullens were, making them out to be some kind of scandal, with an extra dash of sour spice on Edward's name.
I smiled when remembering the day Jessica geared her infatuation towards Edward: the new, gorgeous and very available guy at Forks High. She flung herself at him like a fly on poop. Except, the poop was of a higher, more sophisticated genre and one the poor fly could never land on, not even for a sliver of a taste, not even in her dreams. But of course, being Jessica, she claimed Edward was the one with the problem and then turned her claws – I mean feelings – to Mike Newton. He was easier to impress, the boy would go for anything that was female and had a pulse. He humoured Jessica for a while, but now that Bella's in the picture anything that Mike and Jessica had could very well blow up in smoke.
My eyes reverted back to the Cullen table, where all seemed normal until Edward's head whipped in Bella's direction, as if his name had just been called. He then looked away, disinterested. It didn't surprised me that Edward didn't take an interest in the new girl. Why would a diamond covet a stone? Neither of the Cullens reacted to Bella the way everyone else had, in fact they were totally oblivious to her presence. They were well aware of the new addition to the population, yet it didn't faze them at all. They went on with their lives as if nothing were different, staying within the invisible bubble that formed around them. It was like they lived in this alternate universe none of us were aware of, like they were a part of something bigger, something no one could logically grasp if we knew about it. Maybe we were all safer in our ignorance.
I watched as Edward and Emmett exchanged words, both glancing at Bella's table. I wished I were closer so that I could hear them speak. Their voices were like melodies made specifically for my ears. It was entrancing and beautiful. Edward then met eyes with Bella again, who was staring at him. She then turned away in embarrassment, but Edward's eyes remained on her a moment longer. He then shifted his gaze to his table, the planes of his face contorting in ways I've never seen before. His brows furrowed and his lips pressed together and pursed slightly outward. His body followed the expression on his face, his shoulders hunched in and forward, his upper body leaning downward into the table as he handled a piece of bread between his long fingers. Something was troubling him, but what? What was this beautiful creature thinking? Oh, if I only knew! I would give up hearing altogether if I could hear his thoughts just this once.
I felt my cheeks flush with heat, my breathing quickening as I took in deeper breaths. It was as if I were intoxicated. I needed to look away, break the trance he was putting me in. I forced my head to swivel in the other direction and caught sight of Mike Newton, who's eyes were glued to Bella. No surprise there. My attentions then averted to Lauren Mallory, who was just as malicious than Jessica, if not worse. She's been giving Bella death glares all day. With the way some of these girls were acting, you'd think their entire universe just tipped upside down, fell on top of them and crushed them to a pulp. The only difference in their lives was the addition of one simple girl, barely enough to cause a ripple in their lives and yet they acted like she was causing a worldwide epidemic. I sighed, feeling somewhat ashamed of their behaviour.
I looked back at poor Bella who was obviously uncomfortable. It was like she was tied to that chair, with a hand up her back forcing her to open her mouth and speak. It was painful to watch. I turned back to observe five people who never let me down, to save myself from feeling any more of Bella's discomfort.
The Cullen table was missing one person. It wasn't difficult to pin point exactly which one was missing in an instant. Alice had thrown her tray full of uneaten food into the garbage, a common practice, and then skipped out the door. Rosalie stood next, then the others as they followed Alice's lead. They gracefully floated out of the cafeteria, with the same tension and restriction running through their joints as they always had. They didn't show any mannerisms as they exited the cafeteria, not even today, not even a second glance back at the new girl.
I had no choice but to return my gaze to Bella, who was anxiously biting her bottom lip and tapping her foot, her eyes flitting to the clock every few moments. She wanted out, you had to be blind not see it. Angela mentioned that she had Biology II with Bella and that they could walk to class together. My eyes widened, my jaw dropping at that exquisite piece of information. Not only did I have Biology II next period, so did Edward Cullen. My legs dropped from the chair they had been resting on immediately, my feet positioned on the tile beneath me, ready to stand as I waited for the cue from Angela. The moment she stood and walked towards the exit would be the moment I would spring into action. But instead of turning towards the exit, she detoured to a garbage can located behind me, with Bella following close behind. I looked away, moving my pen in circles on a blank page in my notebook as she approached me. The pop can she carried made a thud when it hit the bottom of the garbage can, causing me to twitch. She turned to me and so did Bella, the strawberry scent of her hair wafting into my nasal passages as it swayed behind her and out of her face.
"Oh, hi Annie!" Angela said with smile. I looked up to smile back and was startled by Bella's gaze on me, a smile laced across her face. She nodded and I returned the gesture before she exited the cafeteria with Angela. I turned back in my seat, brushing the inside of my mouth with my tongue to relieve the dryness. What just happened? Did I just interact with Bella? It's always the strangest sensation for me when my subjects randomly interact with me. It's as if a doll were to come to life and talk to you, something it should not be able to do. I gave my head a slight shake, gathered my things and scurried to Biology II.
I took my usual seat, two lab tables behind Edward Cullen. It wasn't my usual, back of the class seat but it was sufficient enough to watch Edward and keep an eye on the mindless teenagers around me. I was surprised to be in class before Angela and Bella, but took it as a blessing that I didn't miss Bella's entrance. For the moment, I decided to lose myself into the waves and depths of Edward's perfectly styled yet out of place hair. Who knew you could get lost in hair? It seems like such a dull, everyday thing and hair never captured me before. But Edward Cullen's hair was something entirely different and excruciatingly captivating. I'd often find myself with my mouth open, a line of drool flowing from mouth to lab table as I followed the wisps, and curves of his reddish brown locks. Thankfully, I noticed Angela take her seat at the lab table adjacent to mine and didn't have the chance to get lost in Edward's hair today. It sounds pathetic when thinking one could ever get lost in hair, but when his is right in front of you there is no escape.
Bella presented a slip to Mr. Banner, who signed it, presented her with a text book and showed her to the only seat available next to Edward. I pressed my hand to my mouth to hide my smile, curling my bottom lip in to prevent it from getting any larger. Bella's cheeks went red, a common thing for her I've noticed, when she looked at Edward. She then proceeded to trip, catching herself at the end of a lab table. Holly, the girl sitting there, giggled. I rolled my eyes, knowing that Holly had nothing to giggle about. I could recall numerous times that little miss giggle fest tripped over her own two feet.
I heard Edward's seat squeak as his entire body tensed with much force. I watched the lines of his body, all tensed and leaning away from Bella as she took her seat. Edward's hand gripped the corner of the table, his fingers digging deep into the wood. Yet his hand wasn't shaking as he pressed deeper into the table, it was as if he were using the bare minimum if the force he's capable of. His fingers left an impression in the wood. I blinked hard, trying to make sense of this, wondering if I were simply day dreaming. Edward then began running his hand over the indentation he just made, erasing it. I watched as shavings piled on the floor. I looked down at my left hand that rested on my lap and couldn't help myself. I placed my fingers under the corner of the lab table and pressed with every ounce of strength I had. There had to be a logical explanation for what I'd just witnessed. Maybe the wood is just really soft, brittle or rotting and therefore easily breakable. I let out a subtle grunt, my hand falling around from the corner of the table. I ran the fingertips of my right hand underneath the edge of the table, hoping to feel bumps or any sign of indentation. Nothing. I turned my left hand over and ran my right hand over the bright, pink-ish red, diagonal 'L' that was pressed into my palm. I then pressed my hands together, palm to palm, letting the heat relieve the pain. I could feel the beats of my blood as it pulsated through my veins when my hands were pressed together. It was an oddly soothing sensation.
I turned to my lab partner, completely forgetting his existence, and met his gaze. He looked at me as if I needed to be put into a mental institution. His eyes then slowly rolled to the right, his head following in the same direction. I reverted my gaze to Edward and watched as he glared at Bella with such hate that I was afraid for her. I've never seen Edward act this way towards anyone. He's always quiet and polite. Bella hid behind her hair, just as she had all day, but I noticed her peak through the shield she placed between herself and Edward, intrigued by the chalky-skinned beauty fuming with a vengeance next to her. And he was so still. His shoulders, once elevating and deflating in reaction to breathing, ceased to move. It were as if he weren't breathing at all. If it weren't for the sound of him swallowing what sounded like a hoard of saliva, I'd think he weren't alive, merely a statue.
For once in my observing life, I didn't know what was going on. I couldn't make sense of any of the body language Edward and Bella were emitting. All I knew was Edward hated Bella, but I didn't understand why. Edward totally threw me off in the last twenty minutes, creating more confusion for me than I've ever experienced with any of my subjects. People are always so easy for me to read, but the Cullens were a constant mystery to me. This is the first time Edward's ever acted out of character in two years. After two years of watching five people move exactly the same way, it's just expected that that's all there is to it. But this sudden revelation was mind blowing, leaving me feeling strange and absurdly unprepared. My breathing quickened as I questioned myself, trying to piece it together, to find some links between lunch and now, but nothing added up.
The bell rang and Edward was gone in an instant. His scent was like a ghost in the air, leaving an impression of his presence. I licked my lips and closed my eyes as I inhaled deeply. What cologne was that? It's invigorating. The moment was interrupted by a voice I'd almost forgotten.
"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" Mike asked as he approached Bella, who was slowly gathering her books. She was probably still stunned by Edward's behaviour towards her, still recovering. Or was that me? I shook my head and listened as she corrected him on her name and he offered to direct her to her next class. Like that hasn't been done before...
Gym was a period I usually found a way to skip, but I'd grit my teeth and bare it today because I didn't want to miss Mike's attempt at winning Bella over, although I still couldn't get over Edward's actions in Biology. I followed Bella and Mike as they walked to the gym, Mike talking Bella's ear off. I wasn't listening, I couldn't care less about what he had to say until the moment he uttered two things: Edward Cullen.
"So did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that." He said. I let out a sigh of relief that I wasn't just imagining Edward's odd behaviour.
"Is that the boy I sat next to in Biology?" Bella asked. Oh, puh-lease! My eyes rolled, knowing the motion all too well and practically acting on their own accord when stupidity sprouted in the air. I mean, I'd normally give Bella the benefit of the doubt when it comes to remembering the names of any of these chumps, but this was just ridiculous. You never, never forget a Cullen. Not even if you've been struck with a severe case of amnesia and can't even remember how to breathe. You always know who the Cullens are, each individual one. It's like they are burned into the grey matter of your brain with a laser, destined to be there forever.
I was too caught up in the absurdity that fell out of Bella's mouth that I missed the middle half of the conversation, only to hear Mike say,
"If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I'd talk to you." Smooth, man. Very smooth. Bella smiled but it didn't seem to ease her qualms. Heck, if Edward Cullen stared at me that way I'd probably be contemplating suicide. The force behind his gaze was enough to break down even the strongest, most confident person.
Bella seemed more impressed with Mike than she did Eric. He clearly admired her. If that line he fed her didn't show it, the huge smile plastered on his face would certainly give him away. I never knew a mouth could stretch to such lengths. Mouths, no matter who they belong to, always astound me.
When we arrived at the Gym, Coach Clapp handed Bella a uniform, although she wasn't required to change today. She was allowed to sit out for her first day, lucky bird. I, on the other hand, had to venture into a smelly locker room to change into musty gym clothes and partake in a game of volleyball. I'd choose Chinese water torture over this.
Mike was eyeing up Bella as he waited for the ball to fly his way. He then showed off by jumping through the air and spiking the ball. Bella smiled whenever she noticed Mike staring at her, looking for some kind of reaction after he made an amazing serve or spike. I managed to steer clear of the ball, remaining in the back of my group. Everyone on my team worked around me, which was quite the relief. It didn't make being here any better, though. When the bell rang I didn't bother changing my clothes. I grabbed my bag that I had placed by the bleachers and followed Bella, allowing two people to step between us so she wouldn't suspect I was following her.
We walked to the front office, which seemed fitting considering it was where we started our journey this morning. Just as Bella went in I slid a thick pen in between the opening so that it would remain open just a crack, enough for me to hear what was going on inside. I slid down the wall next to the door, ear extended towards the crack. The sound of Edward's voice stung my ear canal, the melody more eager and aggressive now as he tried to switch out of Biology II. Yet another piece of the puzzle I can't connect. Did he seriously hate Bella that much? Did she somehow break through the bubble surrounding the Cullens, disrupting their hidden world? Bella barely spoke a word to him, none of this made sense. Just as I was immersing myself into the situation, Kim flung open the office door, bringing a gust of wind in with her. My eyes instinctually went to the pen, that was roughly in the same spot. The door closed slowly and I could see Edward as his body tensed, his fingers curling into his palm and his eyes closing tightly as if he just smelt something grotesquely revolting. He then told the secretary to forget it and fled the room. A gust of cool air flowed in my direction and I found myself flinging against the wall, my back pressed into it as his scent entered my senses. God, what was that? Axe?
Bella came out shortly after, her pace quicker than it had been all day. I ran after her as quickly as I could without looking suspicious. I slowed once we got outside and watched as she sat in her truck without starting it. She was breathing heavily, as if she were just in an intense game of tag and just reached what was deemed home-free. I sat in my car and waited, wanting to make sure she was okay. She was visibly shaken by Edward's behaviour and I couldn't help but sympathize towards her.
Eventually she started her car and pulled out of the lot. I, of course, followed shortly after.
Francis was taking taste of his special chilli as I walked through the front door and into the kitchen. He quickly removed the spoon from his mouth, swallowing quickly as a smile unfolded on his face. Crap, I didn't think of what to say to him about Bella...
"So..." He said, his head tilted on an angle, eyebrows raised and smile in place. "How'd it go with Isabella?" He asked.
"Uh, good. Angela Weber introduced us at lunch. She prefers to be called Bella, actually." I said, grateful for that brief moment of interaction with Bella today at lunch.
"Is that so?" He said, enthusiastic that I learned a new piece of information about the new girl next door.
"Yep" I smiled, although it felt extremely fake to me. I hoped Francis couldn't sense it. He walked over to me, arms extended and hugged me. We swayed for a moment, his chin poking into the top of my head.
"I'm so proud of you, honey." He whispered before letting go.
I smiled a genuine smile, happy to know that I finally made Francis proud of me, that maybe I wasn't as much of a failure as I thought.
A/N: GAH, I know, another author's note, like I didn't say enough already haha. I just wanted to let you guys know I won't be posting the next chapter for a while. I have final exams in a week that last another week after that, so I'll be studying my tooshie off for the next 9 days, and then writing exams until the 18th. The good news is after the 18th I will have four months off to write as much as I want, so updates will be much quicker once exams are over! So hang tight and thanks for your patience.
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