The Laboratory Ch.2

I woke up the next morning feeling unfresh, because I was too emotionally drawn out to take a shower last night. After dinner I tried but failed to sneak downstairs, since Moma-Mia "offered" we spend with eachother watching television. To explain to her and my dad I didn't appreciate sports is a death sentence waiting to happen. So for the love of my life, I watched the sports channel until it was late enough to get away with sleeping.

Right now it's 5:30 a.m.

I set my clock early because I had a lot to do today. I had to renivate the basement and buy some wooden benches so it can become my art room. Though a lock would be nice to, so I could make sure she won't have her pesky fingers on my lovers. But if I know anything I do know Mia would never let Charlie do that, because the washer and drier machines are in there, and she just knows I don't do other people's laundry.

I do everything Mia, remember that.

As I began my steaming shower I thought about my clothes, I had so few of them and since people were in the age of "ruining my life" I needed to figure out another city I could go to. No offence to Forks, but I'd never shop here, they probably only have "Go Forks" shirts and hats.

Seattle sounded so New York, and I am fond of New York, but Port Angeles reminded me of California, where all the Hollywood people meet and live in. Where fame can be taken to someone with a face, talent, or both.

Seattle it is.

I wrote a note to dad and dad only, because he's the only one in this house that gives a rat's butt about my safety. Then I wrote myself a checklist, because I hate going back twice for the same thing.

Shirts.
Pants.
Shoes.
Socks.
Jackets.
Mittens. No gloves, I don't like mittens.
Dresses. Just in case.
Umbrella. I don't fancy rain coats either even though they cover you, it's so wet and sticky.
Hair products. By the way this weather is, I didn't look forward to finding out the hard way if my already back-length wavy, well not certainly wavy since it spiral curls once at my shoulder, hair frizzes.

Once dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt with three buttons in front and a green tank top underneath, low cut pants that didn't cover my white flats with a bow on top, and a moss green vest that was tighter to the prize area than I'd like, I was ready.

I grabbed the keys to the Chevy Truck that I named Big Red, classic, and my blue jean purse ready to face the road. Then I remembered I didn't know how exactly to get to Seattle. Lucky for me, I have an IPhone with Google Maps.

The radio stations here either sucks, or my truck is growing older by the second. I was too wary to use my mp4, because it would have to glance down and it would be like texting, which is against the law to do while driving. So I listened to scratch for appoximately two hours before finally reaching my designation.

Pulling up in a parking lot, I hear my truck cough and wheeze. I pat him gently.

"You can sleep, I'll be a while anyway,"I said understandingly. I hopped out and locked Big Red before heading to the rather large and unvacant mall before me. When I reached the automadic doors I noticed someone staring at me, I glanced back.

He was hanging out wth some dangerous looking guys, but I'd be surprised if he wasn't the leader. His posture was confident, yet casual, because he was leaning against the wall with one foot on it. I unsettled when I noticed him smoking, I wish teens wouldn't smoke, or very young adults. But it wasn't my business, so I began walking away, that is until I met his eyes.

They were so green, like Fork's, but more beautiful. Flex of emotions went through them making them darken to moss, like my vest, or lighten to fresh spring grass. Whichever it was, earth was never lost.

Curious, I attempted to make out his face, what I got was...

I can't even find a worthy word to explain his face, but I'll try hypnotizing, pure, appreciating... I blushed at the last thought, because I'm a prude, and to my horror watched him push off the wall and walk toward me. I freaked and quickly walked inside hoping he frowned and shrugged it off. Since no one spoke to me I guess so.

The first on my check list was...shirts. I saw casual wear and practically skipped in. Not really.

I bought blues and yellows and reds, all different shirts of course, I didn't understand why people bought the same shirts in different colors. Next were pants, which was just different types of jeans, and sweats. The clerk was really nice offering a lot of discounts, I bit more friendlier than I like. He taped my button nose and told me to have a good day, somewhere around in the store something crash, it seemed forced. Then next was the underwear, and I blushed crimson when I walked in, and I could hear mocking laughter from the crowd, I scowled. People can be so rude.

I was on my way to Jacket World when I felt a painful burning in my rear end.

"Ow!" I exclaimed in surprise and agony. Then laughter, mocking like earlier, flooded in my ears. I turned around argry and embarassed but gasp at what I saw, it was him.

He was smirking, then he blew smoke in my face. I coughed and waved my hands around in the air desperately, I didn't want lung desease.

"What's your problem?" I asked. I didn't bother stepping back knowing he'd follow me. He pretended to think.

"My problem is, a gorgeous girl checks me out, then before I can even introduce myself, she runs away like Cinderella," he said. I blushed and shivered at his nonchalant tone.

"Well, get rid of the cigarette and put on some decent clothing, then maybe I won't run away," I offered. He smiled half-hearted, I think he thinks I flirting with him.

I'm not.

"Hmm, if I do this, will you go out with me," he asked. His confidence told me knew that answer was yes.

"No, thank you," I said politely. I'd hate to be regected, so I gave it to him kindly.

"Great. How about...what?" he asked. I then realized this was all planned. He burned me with his cigarette bud so I'd hate him and be furious, then he smiles and asks he out. In a weird way it makes since, hate is passion. I could also tell he wasn't used to being turned down, but I'm not surprised.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know you at all, and I'm not going to have sex with you, so please ask someone else...perhaps her," I said pointing to a pretty red head. He turned to look at her, she winked at him. I don't know what happened further because I hurried inside the store.

When I was picking out my bras, I felt the familar burning.

"Ow! Why do you do that?" I asked. I moved so he wouldn't be able to do it again.

"These would look great on you," he said ignoring my question. I glanced up and blushed five shades to seem him holding a Victoria's Secret midnight blue bra and panty set.

"I don't wear Victoria, now please go entertain the red-head I know you spoke with," I said. He smirked.

"Jealous? You can still accept my offer,"he reminded me. He tried to take my hand but I flinched away.

"No, I won't, and I think I'm going home now," I said. He frowned disappointed.

"Can't you at least give your name?" he asked. I sighed exasperated at this beautiful man.
"If I do, you have to promise to leave me alone, and give me yours"I replied. He nodded expectantly.

"My name is Isabella Swan," I said. He grinned like he just won the lottery, or family feud.

"My name is Edward Cullen, I'll see you in school, Bella," he said. I frowned confused.

"Where do you go to school?" I asked worried. He is interesting, but I have to remember to be careful. Boys don't take regection well, especially popular ones.

"Same as you will tomorrow," he replied smartly, "Fork's High."