*Update Note
This chapter has been fixed by the most amazing beta:SheikahLover
A gigantic thank you to her, by the way. The changes have made a world of difference. Seriously, I cannot express how grateful I am for the changes. *
Chapter Three:
Jasper Whitlock. He did have a nice name, Erica had to admit. Not that she was going to be writing that Jasper Hale had a nice name. It was the Whitlock that made the whole thing. Whitlock—it almost sounded whimsical.
Turning her attention back to the task at hand, she strayed away from the silly thoughts.
The computer monitor hummed in the silence that both girls had created between the two while searching. Erica shifted her knees under her chin and rested her head atop them.
Amy had already clicked the blue link under his name, eagerly reading the loading words on the page. It wasn't a very credible looking site, the font was plain and the background was a harsh blank white, the banner on the top could have been made with better quality by Erica herself. Amy didn't seem to mind it though, especially with image that finished loading.
"Major Whitlock," Erica read off the screen to herself, "was the youngest Major in the Confederate Army. It only took him two years of service to earn that title. He was born in Texas in 1844 to a mother who died after the birth of his younger sister and a father who died one year before Jasper Whitlock enlisted in the Confederate Army. He was only seventeen at the time of his enlistment."
Erica's own hair was barely longer than his hair, which had a more golden shade of blonde. She couldn't tell what color his eyes were exactly in the black and white photo, but they were dark. His skin was pale, but then again she didn't know what shade. He was also very handsome. So handsome that she might compare him to a Cullen, more specifically a certain Hale. It seemed they didn't only share names.
Amy seemed to be thinking along the same train of thoughts, "Holy mother of resurrection!"
Erica jumped away from the monitor, startled by her friend's exclamation. She was quick to grab her notebook and write in her lap.
'Is that your reasoning for the resemblance?'
Amy looked at her as if Erica was dumb. "Well, yeah. How else would Jasper and, err, Jasper look alike?"
Erica didn't get any time to write again. "Maybe that's why he wouldn't work on the paper with you! Maybe he knows he's an old soul!"
He knows something, Erica silently added. Just what is it though?
'I think that maybe it's just a dumb coincidence. They don't look that much alike. Jasper Hale is sharper looking, and Jasper Whitlock is softer looking.' More human looking, Erica added to herself.
Amy had a wicked grin, "So you think of the Cullen's faces often?"
Erica swatted Amy away. She didn't like the Cullen's. Something about them drew her in, and not in a good way. Something about their self-isolation and similar attributions without any blood relation caused distrust in her, and didn't settle well with Erica. The Cullen family was confusing and, frankly, too perfect. How could all of them share the same eyes, a light yellow and pale skin? They were intimidating and Erica was scared of them. Or maybe it was the unknown they carried with them that scared her.
"Let's do the paper on him!" Amy squealed happily, opening a Word document. "Especially since you like his look alike!"
Erica pushed her hands away from the mouse refusing to cover the blush on her cheeks that could be seen in the glow of the monitor. 'No, I want to do it on someone else.'
She ignored Amy's satisfied look, taking control of the mouse and going back to the list of names and clicking on the first she saw, Private James Brown.
"James Brown was twenty four when he enlisted in the Confederate Army. Born and raised in Texas to a single mother named Delilah Brown with a twin sister named Lottie …"
Mr. Doyle read her paper for her, all five paragraphs of James Brown's public life. Erica, for obvious reasons, couldn't do it herself. She opted for standing to the side of Mr. Doyle, keeping her arms knotted behind her back and her head down. Mr. Doyle was the only teacher that actually made Erica stand up in front of the class while her paper was read aloud. It smelled stronger of car fumes closer to his desk; Erica couldn't help wonder if it was Mr. Doyle that smelled and not the classroom. She could see every one of her classmates' faces from in-between the hair strands covering her eyes. Amy was smiling widely, showing off four years of orthodontic treatments, with her bangs pinned back by a headband as blue as her eyes. Erica couldn't help the wonder her eyes took, all the way over to a certain boy—Jasper Hale. He was looking out of the window, disinterest just rolling off him in thick waves. She couldn't help the surge of anger. What did she ever do to earn such boredom from him?
She would have snorted if she could. It was ridiculous for her to think such things. Jasper Hale was, and would always be, a person she didn't care about.
But, if that were true, why did she blush when his eyes looked up at hers.
Erica Morgan was reduced to blushing when a boy, Jasper Hale no less, looked at her. Her warm cheeks faded with the anger she felt—at herself. Erica didn't need high school crushes, nor did she have one her mind screamed, so her face didn't need to portray it.
She watched with a twisted mouth as Jasper Hale raised an eyebrow at her.
She almost wanted to scream, until she noticed Amy was glancing at her like that as well. And so was their teacher.
"Ms. Morgan?" Mr. Doyle asked timidly, "We've been done with your paper for a few minutes now, would you like to go back to your desk?"
She didn't know what true embarrassment was until that moment. The times when her mother coddled her, or when her father announced his marriage to someone thirteen years younger than him didn't compare to this one moment in class. She shuffled her feet slowly, keeping her burning face down. She could hear other students whispering and laughing once she had sat down. Her saving grace was the ringing bell.
The car parking lot smelled worse than history class and sounded worse too. The cars grumbled coarsely and gasoline scents filled the air. Student's laughter and loud voices echoed over the engines grinding noise. Erica's shoes clomped loudly as she fast paced her walk down them. She hadn't lifted her head up since class, afraid her embarrassment would still be streaked on her round face. She was thankful it didn't look too strange to have her hair thrown in front of her face like a shield defending a knight. In her case, the shield was protecting her from any looks people could give her. She didn't mind them, and she knew they talked about the mute girl, but she just didn't want to acknowledge them.
Amy was trotting down behind her, her small heels clicking against the mud and water streaked cement. Amy would let out small curse words when her hands slipped on the railing as she tried to catch up with the short girl. Erica didn't relent on her space, only increasing it once she stepped on flat pavement. She ignored Amy's protests and Mrs. Clears van, walking away from the two. She was too embarrassed to let anyone see her.
A/N: Thank you soooo much for your reviews! I wasn't going to answer them hear originally, but then I decided to do it. Sorry for the long wait in chapters and responses. I'd also like to apologize for the short chapter.
perra95: Thank you! I love hearing people like my writing, I don't really have much confidence with it. ^~^
Guest: Thank you for the review, it feels reassuring to hear people don't think Erica's too Mary Sue. I do plan to turn her, in fact I sorta have the moment written out already in my head. :P
DontWaitUpForMe: Your review is very nice! Thank you! It bugged me that Jasper was just sorta thrown to the side, as well. I can't begin to say how nice it is to hear Erica is realistic.
Thank you to everyone who has pressed the follow/favorite "buttons".
It sounds greedy, but reviews mean so much to me and I have no non-awkward way to ask for more, so uh, yeah.
