sorry about the shortness, everybody! I promise the chapters will get longer once the story gets going. a few more chapters of background information will follow but around 5 or 6 or so the action and exciting stuff will begin reviews are appreciated!
chapter 2: the meeting.
After an hour of pure torture, in which my mother forced my unruly mop of curls into some vague form of submission and got me into a pink ruffly thing that was not me at all, I was on my way to the town square, where this meeting was supposed to take place. I found this comical if anything: if we were soulmates and destined to be together for the rest of our lives, what did it matter what I looked like now? But I put up with it with not one sound of protest escaping my lips. I figured that it was best not to get in the way of my mom when she was in her element; interference wouldn't have helped anyway. Besides, it gave me time to mentally prepare myself for what was to come.
I got out of the car, smiling reassuringly at my mother. I turned and began my walk up to the gazebo in the middle, curls bouncing with every step. Sure, I wasn't excited in the least to begin the rest of my life. But at least I could escape from my parents, which would be welcome at this point. I couldn't stand my mother's eyes shining with the anticipation of what was to come for my future and my dad's eyes staring at me incessantly with what I could best describe as a mixture of pity and regret.
Despite the muddled state of my thoughts, I had remembered to set a novel in my purse to help pass the time while I waited for Adam (my mom had insisted on being there twenty-two minutes early for some unknown reason). I was currently in the middle of Gone With the Wind, a book written right before the start of the New Order, and therefore largely frowned upon. I didn't particularly care, because I had a passion for reading and a tendency to go through books faster than they could be replenished (the librarians were very strict hereabouts, so my dad lent me some from his private collection to pass the time). As soon as I opened the book, my heartbeat slowed and my breathing became normal. I allowed myself to relax completely and fall into the plot, effectively blocking the events of the rest of the afternoon out of my head.
It came as a shock when a pair of feet showed up in my periphery. I looked up, startled, to see a guy who I presumed to be Adam. He was as completely unexciting and normal-looking as anyone could be: starched button down shirt, conservative dark gray jacket, khaki pants, muddy brown eyes, fair skin, a load of freckles, and perfectly combed dark brown hair.
As I was taking all of this in, he was studying me as well. After a while I stopped focusing on his appearance and started wondering what his impression of me was and fervently hoping that it was favorable. As for him, I felt rather neutral. He was far from being repulsive, so that was a plus. The only word that came to mind to describe him, however, was 'boring.' I sat there in silence, contemplating this further. Perhaps he would turn out to be fascinating once I got to know him better, something I would have the rest of my life to do. But even being thinking of him in this fashion became so incredibly boring, that I decided that if he wasn't going to speak up I might as well.
"Hello there," I said, timidly sticking my hand out for him to shake.
"Hello," he responded, in a bland tone that only further proved my theory of his utter boringness.
"My name is Isabella Swan, but you can call me Bella if you like. All my friends do."
"Hi Isabella." This was going from bad to worse – I took his refusal to call me by my preferred name to be a personal insult and an indication that he didn't particularly care for me. "I'm Adam Johnson, as I suspect you already know that much about me."
I gave a wry smile in response, motioning for him to join me on my bench. He did, looking curiously over at my book.
"What are you reading?"
At this, he got a genuine smile. The mere mention of books could put me at ease.
"Gone With the Wind," I said, holding it up for inspection.
"But that's on the list of books that are forbidden! You can't read that unless you have special permission from the government!"
"Oh!" I replied, not sure what to say. I suppose I ought to have been expecting this, but I mean really. Who knows all of the books on that list? There are literally millions of them. And technically this one was only 'mildly forbidden' and as such, the maximum penalty for reading it was a night in jail with no mention on your permanent record. No one particularly cared here in Forks, so I had assumed he wouldn't either.
"I'm sorry?" I continued, not exactly sure what I was apologizing for. Upon receiving no reply and seeing the look on his face (as though I had personally injured him), I offered up the brownies my mom had sent me as a sort of peace offering.
"Thanks."
We fell silent. I dearly hoped that this wouldn't become some sort of pattern, or I was in for an incredibly monotonous life.
"I suppose you would like to know a bit about me."
I nodded in relief, grateful that he had broken the uncomfortable silence.
"I was born and in a small town in Kentucky where we stayed until I was seven, at which point we moved here. When I turned 15 I was sent back home to the community college there to continue my studies (I graduated high school early at age 14) and came back here for the summer so that I could meet you. I still have two years of college left but I'll finish them at the local college here so that we can, uh, startourlivestogether." He said that last bit really fast, as though he was ashamed of it and wanted to get it out as fast as possible. He soon continued his monologue, citing his many accomplishments, academic and otherwise. Due to the practiced nature of this speech, I allowed myself to tune out, rousing only when I heard my name being called out sharply.
"Isabella! Have you been listening at all?" He demanded, a stern look upon his face.
As it was the first emotion I had noticed on his features all day, I didn't mind so much.
"Yes," I said meekly in reply, lying through my teeth.
To my utter horror, he picked up where he left off. Be careful what you wish for, indeed. I thought to myself wryly as I reflected on my earlier desire for him to say anything at all. Finally, it stopped. He peered at my face as though trying to discern something, but apparently whatever he saw there displeased him for he promptly got up and proffered his hand for me to shake. It seemed as though he had already tired of me and was about to leave, something which concerned me greatly. I mean, yes, it hadn't gone so well and all but this was our first meeting! It was supposed to be special! From what I had heard from Alice, after her first meeting she had felt calm and at home and as though she was safe for the rest of her life.
Nonetheless, I shook his hand, too hurt and confused to protest.
"Shall I see you tomorrow? Same time and place?"
"Sure." I was not looking forward to it, but a small part of me was glad that he was at least willing to try again.
"Goodbye then."
"Goodbye."
He strode away, seemingly unmoved by our encounter. I waited patiently until I knew he was out of sight, then picked up my book and ran all the way home, tears coursing down my cheeks silently. My mother opened the door in alarm at the sight of me, but I ignored her worried protests and pushed past her, making for my room. Once there I collapsed on my bed in sobs, crying for the disastrous encounter, crying for his insensitivity, crying for his general boringness, and crying for my future.
