Chapter 3
B
It was there, in the library of Forks high school, that a plan started to formulate. About two months before graduation, Sue was going through the mail and found a letter addressed to me from Stanford. And, when I got home, she was not happy about it at all.
"Isabella," Sue snarled as I opened the back door, since I was no longer allowed to come through the front anymore. "What the fuck is this?"
She was waving a white sheet of paper around like a crazy person, but I had no fucking clue as to what it was and I told her as much. "How the hell am I supposed to know," I snapped, irritated with feeling like an unwelcomed guest in my own home.
Yeah, that didn't go over too well. I ended up in the emergency room with a broken arm that Sue swore to Dr. Gerundy I got from a nasty fall I took down the porch steps.
Hell, she was standing there with crocodile tears in her eyes, and fussing over me like such a doting mother. She almost had me believing her ass, too, except the shooting pain in my arm was a constant reminder of the truth.