Chapter 4
Island
Just a keep a hold on me don't let go
If you float away, if you float away
Waiting too long for a ship to come
Don't you float away, don't you float away
Island- The Starting Line
I sat there, watching the ominous, gray waves crash into the rocky shore that was decorated in millions of differently colored pebbles. There was a slight drizzle, but the space heater at my side, kept me warm enough that I didn't mind getting a little wet. Why the hell was he so hot?
It's the dark eyes, the beautiful russet skin or the big manly hugeness- Shut up! I couldn't help but get angry at my inner voice. She always got carried away, unlike me. I was always in control.
What I had meant was why he was so hot, as in his body heat. Maybe it was his large body mass, but the heat just rolled off of him. Not that I minded. It was better than freezing my butt off.
Paul had led us out to the rocky beach. He told me it was called First Beach and sometimes the kids from Forks would come down and hang out. But they only came on the warmer days, he added.
We were sitting on a large boulder that had been shaped into a natural bench by Mother Nature. The water looked scary. I felt my self shudder, remembering.
"Hey, are you cold?" Paul asked, his young face worried.
I shook my head. "No, I was just thinking," I wrapped my arms around me, despite myself.
"Of what," Paul's voice was playfully curious.
"The last time I went swimming," I took a breath. "I almost drowned, so I tend to stay away from water now." I brought my knees up and wrapped my arms around them, staring out at the violent ocean.
When I was thirteen, my parents made the time to take Lucas and me to Florida—to Disney World...
The entire trip was full of my parents fighting and creepy people in cartoon character suits trying to hug me. After five horrific days in Disney, we went to Daytona Beach. My mother claimed that she wasn't feeling well, so Dad, Lucas and I went down to the beach. I have to admit, we had a pretty good time. There weren't a ton of people on the beach except for a few surfers and a couple of families. Lucas and I spent most of the afternoon trying to skim board while my dad watched and occasionally joined us. By the early evening, we were ready to head back to the hotel to clean up and go to dinner. I decided to do one last swim. I had never really been a strong swimmer, so it was only due to my enthusiastic mood that I swam out to far.
The current was strong and I was already tired from the long day. So when I was swept away, I tried to swim back, only to get pulled under. I managed to get a strangled help when I surfaced for several moments. I was pulled back under, the cold water forcing itself down my throat, burning it. I tried so helplessly to find the surface but I failed. My arms and legs felt so heavy and I gave up.
My lungs burned and the world was starting to go black around the edges. Suddenly, I felt something yank hard on my arm. An arm wrapped around my bare waist and we burst through the surface. A coughed all the water out of my lungs as someone pulled me up to a surfboard. I breathed in the sweet air, coating my lungs in it. It hurt so much to breathe, but it felt so wonderful. I clutched to the board, laying my head on it. My eyes darted to the side where a boy of only fifteen, maybe sixteen was. He was tanned, his hair dark and his eyes light.
"Thanks," I rasped out, coughing again.
"Are you okay?" He asked in a not too deep voice. I nodded and closed my eyes. I was so tired. "Let's get you back to shore," With that he got us both to shore where my dad and Lucas preceded to freak out.
Suddenly, two denim covered legs were in my line of vision, pulling me from my memory. I looked up and saw Paul, holding out his large hand.
"Let's get out of here," He half smiled. I placed my hand in his and he easily pulled me up. I was so grateful as we walked away from the shore and more inland. There really wasn't much to La Push. There were only a dozen or so, streets and the one was the highway that led to Forks. There was a convenience store and some other stores, plus the schools. But other than that, there wasn't much to this town. Which made me think that there was something else going on in La Push; No town is this uninteresting.
The rest of Paul's tour was short and to the point. There wasn't a lot to describe. They did have a resort of some sort.
"So," he gesticulated dramatically, "What do you think?"
"It's…" searched for the right word. "Uh, small," I finished lamely, shrugging. Paul's smile fell slightly but stayed intact.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yea, it's not much, but I like to call it home,"
"I don't think I could ever call any place but New York my home," I pulled my hood up and crossed my arms. Stupid rain.
"Do you think you'll get use to it, here?" Paul asked me as we walked down the paved road.
I shrugged again, "I'll get use to it, that's not the problem…" I sighed. I could get use to the rain, the claustrophobia feeling of being in such a small town; but I could never get use to never seeing my family, especially my brother. This place was like another country and I was going to have one hell of a time assimilating to the culture.
I had been following Paul the whole time, not knowing where we were going. So I was surprised when I found myself outside of the Clearwater's house.
"So, I guess I'll see you at school," I looked up to see Paul's face in the fading gray light. It was laced with confusion and some other emotion I couldn't identify.
He seemed to think about his answer. "Uh, I'm pretty sure you will," The look on his face didn't go away.
"Good," I blurted out. There goes my mind again, making me say things I shouldn't and didn't want to say. My small outburst made Paul's face light up in a smile. "I mean, you make it sound as if you might not go to school. What do you do, skip?" I inquired.
He laughed lightly, "No, certain…things come up and I have to miss school." I nodded, looking down as I toyed with a rock using my foot. A warm hand was under my chin and making me look up. "Sleep well, Cate." For once, he didn't call me Princess.
"Uh," I was slightly dazed at the force and emotion behind the order. "Yes, pleasant dreams," Paul's hand linger for a minute on my face, before he dropped it, letting it hand at his side. He smiled, seeming pleased. He turned and started walking away, his hands deep in his pockets. He threw a smile at me over his shoulder. I shook my head, trying to regain a bit of my thoughts. I opened the door to the red house and stepped inside. I could hear some type of game glaring from the TV in the living room. Water was running in the kitchen and soft rock music could be heard upstairs.
I peeled my blue heels off my feet. Man, did they ache. Just because I wore heels all the time, didn't mean that I never got the pain from wearing them. I flexed my feet a couple of times.
"I'm home," I called out softly to the house, not really sure if I should announce my presence or not. Suddenly, the water stopped running, the TV was quiet and two sets of footsteps were approaching me. Harry came from the living room, Sue from the kitchen. They both had looks of strain and worry on their faces.
"What happened with Paul," Harry asked me gruffly. My brow furrowed. Why the hell were they so damn curious?
"He showed me around town, took me down to the beach," I explained, hoping to understand their intensity. They seemed to relax when I said that.
"Alright," Sue agreed. "Did you have a good time?"
I shrugged. "Sure, sure" Using the sarcastic tone I always used when I said that phrase. It was something my dad's side of the family said, even Grandma Kat had used it, but it always sounded hilarious coming out of her mouth.
They both frowned, but I brushed past them and up the stairs. I wasn't use to my outings being questioned. I did what I wanted when I wanted. They had another thing coming if they thought they could suddenly set a thousand rules upon me. I would fight like hell. I've been in charge of my own life for awhile now; I didn't need this stand-in family telling me what to do.
I locked my bedroom door. I was so irritated. Not just at Harry and Sue, but at Paul too. What the hell is with him and the damn confusing emotions? One minute, he is all smiles, the next he is giving a look that could rival anyone's.
I didn't need this.
I turned my music on full blast, letting the much harder music pour over me. The screaming of the singer's voice erased my thoughts. I peeled of my coat and quickly tore off my jewelry. I grabbed my towel hanging on the hook on the back of my closet and stomped down to the bathroom, not even bothering to shut off my music.
I turned the water on full blast and quickly tore off my clothes. I hissed at the heat of the water, but let it burn me. It felt good.
Soon, I was done and I wrapped my towel around me. I made my way back to my room where I changed into dark blue pajama pants and a Penn State hoodie. I yanked a brush through my hair; tomorrow I would regret not blowing drying it, but I didn't have the energy for it.
I groaned as I remembered: Tomorrow was my first day of school. How many bad days can one person have in a row?
I didn't know, but I think I was going for the record.
I shut off my lights, the pounding music still pouring out of my speakers. I curled up on my bed, bringing my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. Then and only then did I let the tears fall. They left my body in body-racking sobs. I clutched at the blankets underneath me, squeezing so hard my knuckles turned white.
I hate this, all of it. I wanted to be with my dad, Lucas; I needed them. But I was stuck in this rainy hellhole, no ways to escape.
I was so content with my life. Sure, my parents had violent arguments and I was basically an adult, taking care of myself, but it was a life I knew, a life I was use to. I wanted it back, flaws and all. I wanted to put on my toe shoes and dance again. I wanted it all back.
The saying was true; you never know what you have until it's gone. Why did I have to learn everything the hard way?
Gone—what a perfect word to describe my life. My parents were gone, shipping me off to this god forsaken place. My brother was gone, off in his own world at college. My best friend was gone, dancing and dreaming back in New York. I was lost, so lost and I couldn't find my way out. I needed someone to help me. I needed help.
As I cried, I wished that someone was there to hold me. Someone that would tell me everything was going to be okay. I needed that, but it was something I didn't have.
More gasping sobs left my body, my face stained. Suddenly, the sound of the window opening and a burst of cold air came rushing in. I could barely lift myself off the bed as a tall figure entered my room.
Now would be the time to scream, run. Do something! My inner voice yelled at me, but I couldn't find it in me to do any of what she had said.
"Cate," I knew that voice. It felt as if I had known it my whole life. Paul walked over to me, wiping away my tears. "Don't cry," I couldn't help but wrap my arms around him and let him hold me up as I cried. Paul and I were suddenly laying down, the covers over us. He pulled my back to his chest, holding me against him. I relished in his warmth, but my tears and sobs still continued.
Paul was my strong anchor in my hurricane of emotions.
***
The next morning I woke up, alone. Last night was so hazy and I was so upset, had I just imagined it all? I sighed. Of course I had imagined it. There was no way Paul could climb up the flat vertical wall to the second story. I was foolish enough to believe that someone would actually come.
I frowned as I looked in the mirror. My hair was a rat's nest and my eyes were red and puffy.
"Wonderful," I groaned quietly. I started working on my hair—it would take the longest. After I brushed it out, turning into a poof ball, I straightened it and then pulled it back into a pony tail, the front pieces falling out since I was growing out a bad oh-my-I-want-bangs-haircut. It was decent, so I went to work on my eyes. Concealer and cover-up did a well enough job of covering the dark circles and puffiness. The only way the puffiness would go away is if I put a cool rag on top of my eyes and I didn't have time for that.
I sudden knock at my door made me jump. I quickly opened it to see a rather tired looking Sue dressed in a pink bathrobe.
"Just making sure you were up," She said, reading the question in my eyes. "You have about a half hour until you have to leave." I nodded and closed the door on her. I went to my jewelry box and picked out my rings for the day. One was purple, another red, my grandmother's ring and a metal peace sign one.
I quickly went to my closet and pulled out a purple shirt that was pleated at the waist. Along with navy trousers and a black quarter sleeve blazer, it set the base of my outfit. I slipped into a pair of red, t-strap flats and then added a layered necklace.
I looked in the mirror and decided it was decent enough. I grabbed a purple coat and a red scarf. I also grabbed my black messenger bag that I used in New York. It was leather and from Urban Outfitters. It was perfect. I could pass off as a large purse, and it allowed me to carry it around all day.
I walked down the stairs to find Leah and Seth finishing breakfast. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of eggs and bacon.
"Cate, you have no time to eat," Sue huffed as she set a pan in the sink. I shrugged and went to the cupboard.
During my search for food yesterday, I stumbled upon a box of Pop-tarts. I grabbed one of the packages and smirked at Sue. She huffed again and set to washing the pan.
I opened and munched on the chocolate pop-tart as Leah and Seth put on there coats. Seth eyed me.
"It's raining," he noted that my coat didn't have a hood. Taking a bite of my pop-tart, I pulled a small umbrella out of the pocket on my bag. It did rain in New York and I was not one to be caught unawares.
Seth nodded and Leah rolled her eyes.
"Ready," I asked them. Leah just trudged out the door and Seth nodded. He and I walked out together and I put up my polka dotted umbrella, still munching on my pop-tart. I offered to share my umbrella with Seth, but he simply smiled and put up his hood. I shrugged and started on the second pop-tart.
The road seemed familiar to me, thanks to Paul's tour, and just as I thought, it only took us ten minutes to walk to the school.
The school was larger than I thought and was made completely out of wood. The front doors, where other students were piling in, were red. I noticed I was the only one with an umbrella. I shook off the thought and asked Seth where the office was.
"Right over there," He pointed to a set of doors at the end of the hallway. I thanked him and broke away from the group of students that were veering towards the left. I opened the wood door and was greeted by a bright light. The walls were a bright white and there was a long counter where there were baskets and papers scattered into organized piles. Behind the counter was a single desk that had a tiny woman behind it.
She had dark hair and tanned skin. She had on a simple sweater and was busy typing away on a computer. Like other secretaries, she had the sixth sense to notice when people needed her. She looked up from her typing to look me over.
"Catherine Rostov," she framed it as a statement. I nodded and she beckoned me towards her. I noticed her nameplate said Ms. Buckley.
She shifted through the papers on her desk. "I would like to welcome you to the Quileute Tribal School," She produced a half sheet of paper and another one that looked like a map. "This," She held up the half sheet of paper, "Is your schedule. And this is a map. The school isn't too complicated. The halls are arranged by subject. Just follow this and you'll be fine. Ask another student or teacher if you need help. Got it?" She asked rather brusquely. I nodded, a little bit freaked by her tone. She handed me the papers and went back to her typing. "Oh," She said as I turned around. "You're locker number is at the top of your schedule. It is located by the other sophomore lockers. Have a nice day," I blinked.
"You too," I managed to get out. I left the office and entered a busy hallway. I looked down at my schedule. My first class was English, followed by Biology, Art III, Honors US History, Lunch, Algebra 2, Language, Study Hall, and Gym. My eyes bugged out. Art III? HONORS History, Algebra 2?
What the hell?!
I can't take those classes. I had never taken an Art class and I was only in Geometry back home. And as far as I knew, honor classes were for smart people.
This is ridiculous. I need to change my classes.
I marched right back inside to the office. The rude Ms. Buckley looked up at me.
"Yes,"
"Who do I see about changing my schedule?" I held up the offensive half sheet of paper.
"You can't change it. You've missed the two week deadline. All students have the first two weeks of school to change their schedules. We are now in our third week, you can not change it." She went back to her typing.
"Excuse me? That is totally ridiculous. I am a new student; I should be allowed to change it." I argued.
She shrugged. "Sorry, same rules still apply to you, missy."
"We'll see about that," I left the office, letting the door slam behind me. I looked down at my schedule. My first class was room two-oh-three. According to my map, it should be in the second hall way to my right. I started my way there, deciding to find my locker later. There was hardly anyone in the halls as the bell rang. I got to my class several seconds after the bell rang. The door was still open and I walked in.
All talking in the room immediately stopped and all eyes turned to me. The teacher was a tall, younger man with dark hair. He smiled at me.
"You must be Catherine," he motioned me forward, plucking the schedule out of my hand. "I'm Mr. Morgan, by the way,"
I nodded. "It's just Cate, actually, Mr. Morgan."
"Well," He smiled. "Just Cate, you can take a seat behind Sarah," He pointed to a girl with light brown hair and glasses. "But first," he reached to a shelf behind his desk and grabbed book. "This is the book we're reading. Hopefully, you'll be able to catch up." He gave me a worn copy of Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson.
I handed the book back to him. "I already have a copy," I explained. He smiled, nodded and handed me my schedule. I quickly walked to my seat. It was the third one back in the row closest to the windows. I sat down and unbuttoned my coat, taking off my scarf, stuffing it in my bag.
I tried to ignore all the stares I knew I was getting. I turned my attention to the windows, the raining pelting them softly. The morning as a light gray-blue and the trees in the distance seemed ominous. I thought I saw a strange flash of color in the trees, but when I blinked it was gone.
I shook my head and looked down at the map, trying to locate my next class. It was just in the next hall over, the same hall as my locker.
Mr. Morgan ended class five minutes early, giving the students time to talk. A quiet buzz started around me and I couldn't help but hear the questions.
"Who's that?" One boy asked. I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder I turned to find a dark skinned boy with braces looking at me. His eyes matched his hair color, muddy brown, and he seemed short.
"Hi," He started, his voice shaky. "I'm Ryan Adler,"
"Cate," I offered, leaning back into my seat, crossing my arms.
"So where are you from?" He asked, tensely.
Fortunately, the bell rang.
"New York," I told him as I gathered my things. I easily found my locker, and opened it, sticking my coat inside. My Biology class was only a row of lockers down from mine and so I got there relatively early.
The teacher was an older woman, who was currently hunched over her desk.
"Hello, I'm Cate Rostov. I'm new," Her head snapped up to reveal a pair of blue eyes hidden behind thick glasses. Her unnatural red hair stuck out in all directions.
"Oh yes," She shuffled the papers on her desk, before she turned around and handed me a thick book. "Here are a syllabus and my class rules," She handed me some papers and then waved her hand around. "Just sit where ever," She returned to looking at her desk.
I turned and looked at the tables that where already full. I bit my lip looking for an empty seat. I felt someone poke my side. I nearly jumped and saw Paul grinning down at me. I glared at him. He rolled his eyes.
"You can sit with me," He pulled me to a table in the very back. I sat down, setting my bag on the floor, placing my book on the table top. I noticed that Paul only had a notebook with him.
"So," I started. "What is with that teacher?" I gestured towards the woman holding her head in her hands.
"Oh," Paul smiled. "That is Mrs. Hathburn. She has always been a little off." His dark eyes lit up. "Today is an off day for her, which means it's a free day for us."
"Hm," I mused, pushing my book off to the side.
"So, how was your night?" He asked, his voice light. My brow furrowed.
"It was alright, I guess." I looked him over for any signs of him remembering last night. His face stayed smoothed.
"Just alright," He half smiled.
I nodded, smiling. "Yup," Well, I guess I'm crazy. Great. "What about your night?"
He shrugged. "It was kind of long," he yawned and it made the bags under his eyes more noticeable. "I'm tired." He looked tired.
"Take a nap," I shrugged.
He shook his head. "And miss talking to you," he smirked. "No way," I elbowed him. "Ow, meanie."
"You big baby," I shook my head and smiled, elbowing his side again. He just rolled his eyes. He suddenly reached down and came back up with my schedule.
He studied it for a long moment. "We have several classes together,"
"Great," I teased.
"We have lunch, Language, Study Hall and Gym together," He seemed excited. I rolled my eyes and snatched my paper back, stuffing it back into my bag. "Wait, how do you have Art three? You're a sophomore."
I groaned, "I think they stuck me in their since I was enrolled in the dance program. I hate my schedule, but that bitchy secretary told me I couldn't change it."
He raised his eyebrows. "Yea, Ms. Buckley has something shoved up her ass sideways. Sorry, Princess,"
I glared at him. "Don't call me that,"
"Princess? Why not?"
"I don't like it. It makes me sound snobby or something," I grimaced. That was the last thing I needed was people thinking I was full of myself.
"Fine," He thought for a moment. "I'll call you…Grace," He finally said.
"Grace?" I scoffed.
"Yes, Grace. I mean the way you totally moved out of the way the other night. You were graceful." He smiled lightly.
I blushed. "Thanks, Paul."
"Welcome," Suddenly the bell rang. "Ready to face the day?" Paul laughed as we stood up.
"Sure, sure"
AN: HA! I have finished the chapter and my arms hurt. It was eight pages long on word which is long for me. Well kinda. Anywho. I hope you like it! Thanks for reading! REMEMBER!!!!! Go to my website to check out the new outfits and links!!