Bella
August 13, 2016
Edward was staring at me.
He was trying not to stare at me. Or at least, really bad at hiding that he was staring at me. Every time I met his gaze, he would blush and drop his eyes back to his syllabus. His shoulders became more and more hunched into himself, like a piece of origami folding itself over and over until it disappeared completely.
"I don't do retakes," Mr. Molino said from the front of the class, one foot hooked over the other. "I will, however, offer extra credit opportunities throughout the semester…"
I felt his eyes on me again and glanced over to meet his gaze and he did the thing where his face flushed he pretended to straighten his papers.
At least he wasn't staring at me like he was trying to mentally undress me, like most boys did. I almost groaned audibly. I definitely twisted around in my seat in disgust. I had never, never been noticed by boys before in Phoenix and then I come here and all of a sudden I'm beeping on everyone's radar like a treasure waiting to be discovered. Half novelty since all of these kids probably knew each other from the diaper days and I was a brand new, shiny toy to play with, and half competition – let's see who can nab the new girl first. Gross.
No, he was staring at me like he was like he was trying to figure me out. Like, I was a puzzle to solve. A SkyMall Sudoku that hadn't been done yet.
I decided to stare back. I mean, we could play this game of pretending not to look at each other, but then I felt like we would just be lying to each other if we did that. And I didn't like lying.
My eyes automatically went to where it was impolite to stare – the clear tubing around his face – I traced over the line of it, from the nubbies that sat in his nostrils to where they hooked around his ears to connect under his chin, with a little slide to tighten it up and down. I averted my eyes, feeling my own face heat up red. That was rude. I chastised myself.
I glanced at him to see if he noticed me. He didn't, his eyes aggressively trained on the syllabus in front of him.
I took the opportunity to look at his tousled, red hair and the line of his chin. I liked his green eyes. They were pretty, like jewels. And intense, you know, deep. Like they've seen some stuff, some hard stuff. I glanced at his tank again. Death, maybe? My breathing sped up with anxiety at that thought.
He looked over again and I met his gaze, smiling reassuringly. It's okay. I screamed at him in my head. I won't bite. He dropped his eyes again, nervously running his lower lip between his teeth.
I frowned. This 'making friends' thing seemed easier in the movies. Friends my never interested me in Phoenix. Well, then again, I had my scatterbrained mother to take care of and she was a full-time job, making things like friends difficult to have.
I kicked my feet in my stool. I moved to Forks to get away from her and her new, but young husband, Phil, feeling crowded out in a newlyweds' house. Without me, she was free to do what she wanted without her daughter criticizing her every move. It worked out. My dad, Charlie, was eager to have me, since he really only got to see me about a week out of the year. And that's if we all scraped up the money to fly me up to Washington, since Charlie hated Arizona.
It just stunk that I had to go to a whole new school one year before graduation. Renee tried to talk me out of it, of course. You have one more year, Bella. She would say. And then you'll go off to fancy college in any state you wish, my smart girl.
But, after catching my mom and my step dad naked as the day they were born in the throngs of passionate lovemaking on our dining room table, I decided that sooner rather than later was probably for the best.
I missed her though. She was chaotic, but she was free and bright and fun. I frowned. If I had a friend, it was her. She was my best friend.
A rattly noise took me out of my reverie and I glanced over at Edward, who was coughing into his fist. He breathed like my Grandpa Swan who smoked for most of his life – each breath sounding like a chore to get in and out. Poor guy. I thought, glancing at the tubing again. What happened?
The bell rang, signaling the end of class and I watched Edward start to get up, his eyes intense as he gripped his cart that held his silver oxygen tank.
"Hey," I said and got up too, stuffing everything into my bag to chase after him. "Wait up."
He stopped outside of the door, a surprised look on his face. That confused me momentarily. I thought we had a nice chat at the beginning of class. And then with all the staring. Most boys wouldn't just fly out of the classroom like that. But, then again, he didn't seem – in the fifty minutes I got to sit next to him – like most boys.
"Hey, there." He said, maneuvering his cart closer to his body so it wouldn't get bumped by passing students. He danced from foot-to-foot like he had to use the restroom.
"You in a hurry?" I watched his Vans tap dance on the floor.
He glanced down at the schedule in his hands. "My next class is in the English building and I have to get my book…"
He was in a hurry to get to class? Why?
"You know you're not obligated to take your book for, like, the first week of class?"
His confusion deepened. "But…"
I pulled the paper from his hands. He had English next. He was taking mostly AP courses. He's smart.
"We're going to spend the first week going over syllabi and the student handbook." I explained and handed it back to him.
"Thanks." He said, his face blushing. "I'm glad one of us knows what they're doing."
"Not entirely." I pulled out my own schedule. "I'm still getting used to this school." I examined the map on the back. "Why are they all separate buildings if it rains like three-fourths out of the year, here?"
Edward laughed – a hoarse, rasping sound. His smile was nice, too. It hitched up higher on the right side of his face than the left. Different. "Optimism?"
A group of kids walking five abreast down the hallway forced me to step forward towards Edward to avoid being hit by them. I caught a whiff of his cologne or aftershave or whatever and I felt my pulse pick up under my skin and hastily stepped back out of his bubble, glancing down at my own schedule to hide my own blush. "My next class is Spanish." I said. "It's in the same building. We can walk together?"
His eyebrows pulled together and he glanced at his cart. "I slow people down. I don't want to make you late."
"It's okay." I assured with a smile. "Everyone's late on their first day."
August 13, 2016
Edward was right - he was slow. Like, slow. But, that was okay. Instead of rushing around, I got to take in my surroundings a little. Saunter instead of hurry. Stop and smell the petrichor and the pine needles and the squishy grass that was in the constant state of moist.
His cart - which was covered in about a hundred stickers - sang a squeaky song behind us as we walked towards the front of the school, where the Lit building was located. I listened to him breathe his arduous breaths, trying to come up with something to talk about.
"Are you from around here?" I asked to break up silence.
He shook his head. "La," He inhaled. "Push."
I felt my eyes widen in understanding as I quickly realized that talking and walking and breathing was probably not a thing he could do simultaneously. I blushed out of embarrassment. Sorry. I mentally broadcasted, hoping his ESP was working today.
About halfway to the building, he stopped and propped his cart back up. "I have," he inhaled. "tocatchmybreath."
"That's okay." I assured.
I pushed my hair back so it sat behind my ear. Now that we are stopped, we could talk. Or I could talk and he could nod. "La Push is the Native American reservation, right?"
He nodded and I watched him tick up the dial on his tank by one and inhale deep breaths. His fingers went to his ribs and he rubbed small circles.
"Are you okay?" I asked, the words blurting out of me as I watched him.
He nodded again.
Did we go too fast? Was he trying to keep up with me? Do I do that? I started to worry, my own breathing hitching up. I looked into his face, but his eyes were on his tank and the corners of his mouth were pitched downward. He didn't look like he was in pain or anything. And his coloring was okay. Pale, but, like, not blue. I felt myself chew on my lower lip.
"Quileute." He said after a moment of silence.
"What?"
"That's the tribe of La Push." He said and adjusted his oxygen back down, his breathing returning to its normal rhythm.
I felt the breath I had been holding whoosh out of me as I relaxed. And then I felt embarrassed. Sorry. I broadcasted in my head again and looked at my shoes. "So how does a missing Weasley sibling end up on a Quileute reservation?" I looked up at him with a smile.
"I'm adopted." He explained, smiling back. "My family is Quileute. My dad's fire chief at the station. That's where I was abandoned."
"That sucks."
He shrugged. "I was, like, less than a day old or something and on the brink of death from dehydration. Obviously whoever dropped me there shouldn't have had a baby to begin with. They made a wise choice."
"So your dad's Billy Black?" I said as I put it all together. "I was just at your house last night."
Something flashed in his eyes and his smile disappeared. "Yeah, you bought our truck."
"Earl." I said.
"Earl?"
"That's what I named it."
He started moving again at the same time the bell rang, signaling we were late. I didn't move to pick up my feet, though. I just kept steady next to Edward, walking at his pace. "I like that name." He said quietly. "It's a good name for that truck."
"Thanks," I said as I pushed myself into the Lit building and held open the door for him. "Jacob came up with it."
"Is Earl treating you well?"
"He complains loudly when I try to push it over sixty."
"You have to be kind. He is a senior citizen." Edward responded, his smile finding its place on his face again. "Did you have a car in Arizona?"
I shook my head. "No, but my mom had a car that she'd let me borrow and the bus system is pretty comprehensive."
I watched as he pulled his schedule from his backpack and glance at it. "This is my classroom." He pointed at the first door on the left.
"I'm down the hall, I think."
"Okay," He nodded. "See you around?" His eyes looked apprehensive at the question, like he was afraid of my answer.
"Yeah. Totally." I nodded. "Nice meeting you, Edward."
"Nice meeting you too," He sucked in a breath, his hand on the door. "Bella." My name sounded nice when he said it. Breathy, like a sigh after a kiss.
August 13, 2016
I froze when I got through the door.
The teacher hadn't arrived yet. All the kids milled around in groups - sitting on desks, laughing and chatting unsupervised. I identified an empty space in the corner in the front where I could slip in unnoticed, but a blond boy with spiky hair and ice blue eyes intercepted me. "Hey, you're Isabella Swan, right?"
"Bella," I corrected automatically, trying to sidestep around him. He maneuvered with me so he could stay in my pathway to the desk. I felt my cheeks blaze red.
"I'm Mike Newton." His eyes traced down my body, appraising me. Apparently he liked what he saw, because he smiled. "We should hang out sometime, you know, since you're new? I can show you around." He tried to do this thing with his eyes – I guessed to make them more smoldering and bedroom-y - but they were such a startling light shade of blue that it just made him look like he was trying to smite me with his mind.
I glanced at his Drake t-shirt, already surmising that he and I would not get along. Not on your life, buddy. I mustered a polite smile anyway and started to move around him again. "That's really-,"
"Bella!" I heard my name and turned to my savior from this already wretched conversation.
Jacob Black was ridiculously tall and built like Hercules carved into marble, the lines of his biceps protruding against the sleeves of his white t-shirt. It was an odd contrast to his brown, almost black eyes that danced with humor and his shockingly white, cheesy grin.
"Hey, Jake." I greeted with a smile, having to lean back to look up at him.
Jake glanced at Mike, whose expression had morphed into glaring. It wasn't like he could do much, though. Two Mikes probably couldn't even fill the space that one Jacob took up.
Jake turned back to me. "Come sit with us."
"Okay," I agreed, eager to get away from this guy. I heard Mike mutter "fucking aborigines" under his breath as I trailed Jacob down a line of desks. What a winner. I thought with a snort and an eye roll.
The Quileute kids were sitting in a tight bunch in the back-right of the classroom. There were two others who Jake introduced to me as Quil and Embry. I greeted them both and then slid into a desk behind Jake and watched him twist around so his long legs were in the aisle.
He propped an elbow on my desk. He didn't check me out like Mike did, instead maintained eye contact while he spoke. His mother taught him manners. I wanted to thank her for raising such respectable boys. "How's Forks treating you so far?"
I shrugged. "It's uncomfortably wet." I squished my damp sock in my boot with my big toe.
Jake grinned. "You get used to it."
"I highly doubt that," I smiled back. "But, I'll take your word for it."
"What about the truck?" His eyes flashed with sudden intensity. He wore his expressions like a loud shirt, his thoughts animating in real-time on his russet-colored face.
I thought fondly to my truck. Charlie - a man of few actions and fewer words – was so excited when he told me that he got it for me as a present. I was over the moon to have a vehicle that ran, knowing that the public transportation system in Forks did not match what was offered in Phoenix. "Earl's great." I smiled. "Cantankerous."
"Cool." He nodded, his head bobbing up and down. "Cool."
"Buenos Dias." The teacher – a short, Hispanic lady - entered the classroom in a rush. "Sorry I am late." She apologized. "My car was giving me issues this morning. On the first day of school, of all days." She pulled out a stack of syllabi.
Everyone quieted down as she started to hand out papers, taking their seats if they were standing. I watched Mike Newton slip into a desk and slump down, his posture poor.
I took a syllabus and passed the rest behind me. I had already taken Spanish my freshman year, but Forks required four semesters of foreign language, not just two, like my school in Phoenix. I immediately started to zone out when she started in on her expectations for class.
I propped my chin on my fist and looked out the window that lined the classroom wall on the west side. There wasn't much to look at - just a tree line of evergreens and oaks. There was forest everywhere here, with a national park only miles away. It was green, contrasting in different shades against the cloudy sky. I sighed. I missed the sun.
I thought about Edward for a brief second and my head churned with a series of emotions that didn't make sense to me. So, I did what my mother would've done – I psychoanalyzed myself. Although, she probably would've used the horoscope from the Globe and a book on Wiccan legends or something to help her.
I worried. Okay. That one wasn't hard. It was hard not to worry over a boy that sounded like he was in a constant state of asthma attack. I pushed that one out of my mind quickly.
Curiosity. Also a no-brainer. What happened? The question bounced around my head like an echo. However, I knew it was his story to tell - if he wanted to tell it. I honestly would only want to hear it from him, anyway. Receiving it secondhand felt like I was betraying him, somehow.
And then there was a bunch of other emotions that didn't make sense.
Altruism was one. I didn't like when he frowned. It almost - I don't know - hurt me. Like a bee sting that I wanted to instinctually smack off my skin. Which was odd, because our relationship was an hour old.
Protectiveness was another? I tried to imagine his birth parents just dumping their kid off at a random fire station like an Amazon package. Like, who does that? I felt my face flush with anger at the faceless, nameless mother and father. Bastards.
I squinted at the tree line through the window and chewed on my nail. Was this what having a friend was like? I honestly had no clue. It seemed tiring. Relationships past immediate family members seemed insurmountable for very little payout. I put in all of this work and emotional effort? For what? For us to wave goodbye at graduation and never speak to each other again? Seemed like a waste.
Still, I wouldn't mind being Edward's friend. And I felt like I was already Jacob's friend - whether I had a say in the situation or not. Jake was one of those people that breathed and made friends. I imagined myself between the two brothers – the yin and yang of Forks High School – and saw myself laughing, joking, enjoying myself.
"Bella."
I was snapped out of my thoughts by Jacob, who had turned in his seat again. I looked at him. I did not feel the same emotions with him as I did with Edward. Jake made me feel liberated. Last night, in the truck, he gave Earl a funny voice that had me laughing so hard I had tears streaming down my face. I gravitated towards him like people gravitated towards the dance floor at parties or towards comedians or towards playgrounds - because he was fun.
"Yes, Jake?" I said, noticing that the teacher was gone again.
"What are you doing this weekend?"
"You know, usual stuff." I said as seriously as possible. "Laundry, grocery shopping, summoning Satan," I shrugged. "We'll see."
He grinned at my joke. "Well, you and Satan should come to First Beach and hang out. We'll probably barbeque or something."
I'll let Satan know." I said, laughing. "He loves barbeques. Reminds him of home."
"I bet." Jake said as he pulled out his cell phone and handed it to me. "Put your number in so I can text you the address."
I did as I was told, creating a new contact for myself. His old cell phone screen had a crack in it and I was trying to get the 'l' to type for 'Bella' when I watched a text message from Edward populate on the screen and vibrate his phone.
I think I'm in love.
I felt my face go crimson as I finished the contact and handed Jake's phone back to him.
"I'll text you the details." He said and slipped his phone back in his pocket and then turned to Quil to laugh with him over something.
I just nodded, shocked. That text was not about me, was it? It couldn't have been about me. He could be talking about anything, right? The muffins in the cafeteria, a cute puppy, Blake Lively. Those were things to be in love over. Maybe he was talking about a different girl in his English class. Love at first sight type-thing. I don't know.
What I did know that that text definitely wasn't meant for me and I felt guilty and embarrassed for even reading it in the first place. That was an invasion of privacy. I worried my syllabus, poking up the staples with my fingernail and repented to whatever high power for my sins, which I felt was a lot so far in my short-lived Quest to Become Edward's Friend.
But, what if…
What if in the slightest, small inkling-est of chances that text was about me? My wild imagination took me to a new fantasy. Where I was Edward's girlfriend. Him, I and his oxygen tank staring at the gray, churning waters of the Pacific. My hand in his. His hand in…
No. Stop being weird, Bella. Edward was different and I was intrigued by his different-ness, but we literally just met. Literally.
I glanced out the window back at the tree line that was the same shade of Edward's eyes, deciding if relationships were waste of energy, then romance must be the fossil fuel crisis of humanity.
Y'all are a tough crowd to impress it seems with the lack of reviews and whatnot. lol. I guess if this story is a dumpster fire I could just stop writing it. Seems easy enough.
I wanted to make Bella less 40-y/o-soccer-mom and more teenager-ish. I always like that Bella was smart beyond her years, it was the victim-mentality and the personality that was nails on a chalkboard for me. So Bella with some balls is definitely a fun character to write.