Oppressed
That was gruesome. Standing in front of a class full of twenty some students introducing myself while the teacher moved me to the front and handed me a syllabus. They were doing some hard bell ringer I knew neither head nor tail of on the overhead projector. And after class, Mister Varner, the Trig teacher pulled me aside and told me to read through chapters one through thirteen of the text book I was loaned to catch up.
I knew this stuff already, right? He asked. OF COURSE I DO. I've just been at school during my amnesic state.
Moron.
Cristina was there after, when the bell rang and I was the last one out. She was waiting for me, clutching a red and white text book to her chest. She smiled when she spotted me, but the smile kind of faded when she spotted my expression.
"What's wrong?" She asked when I was close enough.
"That class sucks!" I answered fervently. "And it's my first one!"
Without me asking, she took the text book from my hand. That was kind of...reversing it, wasn't it? Dramatically, I placed my hands on my temples and rubbed them like an old man would.
"Oh, you don't understand it?" Her brow crinkled like she was concerned.
"No!" I said.
She continued to look concerned and she began to walk me out of this building, back whence we came. "Well...if you're going to struggle some...I can help you adjust."
I eyed her carefully. " What do you mean?"
She laughed. "Meaning tutoring silly. You don't want to fail, do you?"
"Of course not," I said quietly, thinking about it. "What's the catch?"
Perplexity crossed her features. "Catch? There's no catch."
"There's always a catch," I countered.
"Well, there's no catch today," She smiled and led me to the cold blistering wind outside. I immediately hunched my jacket over my head to protect myself when I noticed she had no cover.
"Aren't you cold?" I asked.
"I'm used to this weather," She answered. "It doesn't really effect me any more. Come on. You might not be."
And she sped up her step so that we were running to the next building sopping wet. I noticed she wasn't the only one 'used to this weather'. There was plenty of people walking normal paced to their next classes, stopping to chat. Then again, most of these assailants had rain jackets on too. When we entered the science building I was soaking wet and dripping. My hair in complete disarray. Sucks. These weren't even my clothes. Leah was going to be so pissed. Without a sun to dry in, I was probably in for it.
"Your chemistry class is straight ahead. Room 128," Cristina pointed ahead of me, pass all the hallways of blue and tables of various science projects outside of the classrooms. The colors attracted my eyes, but I was going to be late and not to mention, I felt a little heavier because of the wet clothing. Cristina looked up at me. "I'm going to be late for Economics, so I'll catch you after to take you to..."
She ran her eyes down her copy of my schedule and poked the spot she was looking for. "British Lit! You're gunna love that. We're reading Beowulf."
"Reading what?" I asked, but she wasn't paying attention.
"I'm going to be late! See you after!" She called, wringing my free hand and running off. With my book, no less.
"Uh?" I said, leaving my hand where she had dropped it and staring after her. She sped through the doors we came through and disappeared. Rolling my eyes, I walked through the hall, ignoring the projects as several seniors passed me on their way. I attracted stares everywhere I went. And now that Cristina was gone, I noticed it more. Every eye was on me. Conversations stopped when I came closer, eyes followed my movement, boring holes into my back.
I was the new guy. The new face. I could see all of their faces were nothing like me. It wasn't like hanging with Paul yesterday. At least we all looked somewhere alike and my face, or even my skin tone didn't stick out. But here it did. It was like walking through a hallway of ghosts.
I shuddered and entered my class.
Chemistry wasn't going to be so bad. Mister Banner didn't introduce me to the whole class. When I entered, he gave me a slip to sign for lab safety and told me sit down. I was lucky, he said. We were starting a new chapter and it had little to no relevance to the previous chapter. Today, they were going over the basics for the new chapter.
The tables here weren't like the desks in the math classroom. These were long horizontal black tables attached to the wooden cabinets on either side. For labs I was guessing. Because each table had two seats. Lucky he put me in the middle. It was better than front.
Class started filing in one by one and I half-prayed the seat next to me was empty. I was certain there was no lab today...come on.
But luck wasn't on my side and a girl took her place next to me.
She was actually quite pretty. In another standoutish way. Her hair was the epitome of goldie-locks, bouncing as she moved. She reminded me of Cristina, but not that they looked anything like. In that their beauty just stuck out. She was taller than Cristina, however. Her eyes were much larger and a deep shade of amber. But the odd shape of them was what made me look twice. They weren't big in the traditional sense. They were much too wide. Yet somehow that fit. Her very pupils core seemed to stretch vertically in a catlike way. Intimidating, fierce. She was the most striking girl I had ever seen. And her pale face, free of any trace of teenage blemishes, was touched with confidence and power. Her lips were glowing with a red as sharp as blood. She was wearing a long-sleeved red shirt that clung to her slender body very nicely and only a white scarf to acknowledge the cold weather which kind of contradicted the black skirt she wore and the boots with white stockings.
And she turned the full power of that mesmerizing gaze on me. Her chin lifted and she raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows. Her voice was deep and vibrant for a girl, which I guessed was reserved for me. It fit her cat-like nature."Well, hello there."
"Hi," I said back, reverting my eyes to the board where the teacher was beginning to erase the previous lesson's work as the rest of the class settled in. I didn't want to stare too long at her. I wouldn't be able to look away if I did.
"You're the one they're all talking about," Her smile was friendly, but it was also hypnotizing. And I had a feeling she knew exactly how dazzling it was.
"You're new," She said.
"Yes," And I was surprised to hear my voice shake a little. She was really good-looking.
"I'm Chelsea Whittier," She told me, taking the initiative and grabbing my hand off the table. Her touch was so warm and electric.
"I'm Nick...," I had to work to find my voice again. I cleared my throat. "Nick Wright."
Her fingers gripped mine tighter and I reciprocated the hold. She batted her eyelashes a little at me. "Nick...I like that. "
"Thanks," I said, lamenting when she released my hand.
"Where are you from, Nick?" She asked, tucking a stray lock of her gorgeous hair behind an ear.
"Um, La Push,"
"Really?' Her eyes widened slightly, intrigued. "That's interesting, Nick. We don't get a lot of people from there going here. They usually go to that school...I forget what it's called...Hmm...You must be...something special."
I have to say, I liked her tone very much. I stuttered. "I-I don't think so."
"Oh, but I do," said Chelsea, leaning closer to me, so that our faces were inches apart.
"I...," I started somewhat lamely.
"Are you afraid?" She asked softly with her breath coolly hitting my face.
"No...," I lied.
"Nick...You should-" She broke off because just then class started and the teacher was calling for attention. She didn't take her eyes off me and I didn't take mine off her either. She winked at me and I couldn't help the sudden heat in my face.
The lesson itself was boring. Just reading out loud. He didn't call on me either, thank the Lord. He was probably sympathizing with the fact that today was already going to suck without him adding onto it.
He did however, let Chelsea read. And it was music. She had such a beautiful, unique voice that I wouldn't be surprised if she was in choir. I'd have to ask her later. I couldn't help but notice she kept throwing glances my way, even as she read. I smiled when she did and I could see her own grin tugging at her lips.
When class was over(with the shortest hour and thirty minutes ever),I stood and gathered the papers I was given in this class to my chest. No book for me today. He had to sign me one. Well, that was all because Cristina had the other one for some reason.
I was about to ask Chelsea what she had been going to ask me when she beat me to the punch with a question of her own.
"What's your next class?"She asked, peering at my stack of papers.
"British Literature," I commented, remembering Cristina pointing it out in the hallway.
"Fabulous," Chelsea stated, laughing. "You have the same lunch as me. I'll meet you outside the cafeteria then?"
"I'd like that," and I meant it. Lunch seating was something I was dreading.
"Shouldn't be too hard to find," She said, tossing her hair back. "I'll see you there, Nick."
She picked up her pink see-through backpack and left the room behind the rest of the blass. It was interesting, because just then Cristina walked in. The contrast between them was palpable. Cristina's dark beauty had a different sense entirely from Chelsea's, except that Cristina seemed to have her own soft glow.
"There you are. Come on. The English department is in the same building," She said cheerfully, making a beeline for me. I straightened my papers again and filed out of the class with her in front of me.
Where was my book, too?
"I wasn't lying when I said you're going to love this class, you know," Cristina commented, looking over her shoulder at me. "My brother, Kyle, has this class too."
I froze and only my legs remained moving. I was sure all the color had drained away from my face. "Your brother? You mean...the guy this morning...He's your..."
"Yeah," She said. She didn't seem ashamed, but her face fell a little anyway. She eyed my expression a little too carefully, curious at my tone. "I'm worried about him right now. But I don't think he's going to class today."
That was a relief. But damn. Damn it all to hell. I had such a bad feeling about that guy. It wasn't even funny.
"You have him for Gym too," Cristina informed me.
Double damn.
"Don't worry. He won't do anything. He just is having an adjustment problem. New school, new people. It's always like this," said Cristina as we swerved a corner and I found myself looking at too much yellow and gold in one. It was an odd contrast to the dismal weather.
"I thought you said you moved here at the beginning of the school year," I said in a hollow voice. He had been here at the beginning and it was nearing mid-term...Who has that much problems with adjusting? With a pang, I wondered if I would have that same problem too.
"We did...," said Cristina quietly But she didn't deign to respond anymore and I could see a crease forming between her eyebrows. It sounded personal.
"Here you are, Nick," Cristina's voice called me out with its briskness, a drastic change from the sullen I just witnessed. She lead me into a classroom, giving a slip to the teacher like she had the previous two times. The teacher was a curly red-haired lady with freckles and glasses. She was young, but that didn't mean she looked gracious. She studied me carefully over her glasses.
"Find a seat," She ordered. I tried to smile but she was already approaching the blackboard, past me. And I hastened to find a seat.
I thought that this was going to be a hard pressed class full of her laying down the law before beginning anything or even introducing me. But as it was, they were in the middle of a specific story that I didn't have to read anytime soon. Today was the pop quiz on some middle chapters. So while the class worked. I stared out from my place nearest to the window.
It was the longest class ever. And it was a no-nonsense class. The teacher, Mrs. Blake, wasn't having any noise. And the students were probably used to this sort of thing. I just sat there and placed my head on my elbows. My thoughts steered in no particular direction and it was rather easy to just close my eyes and have a nap.
The sound of pencils and pens on paper slowly started to fade.
There was a thick veil of fog clouding my vision. But I found that I could still see through it. It was just hazy. I tried to beat the fogginess with my hands but then dropped them when someone began approaching.
Where were we? I glanced around. It was a garage. I could see an unfinished car that looked more like a skeleton right now on tire stumps. I opened my mouth to say something but then the approaching figure came closer. It was a girl. She had her hands in the pockets of her blue hoodie.
At first, I thought it was Cristina. But then I realized it wasn't. This girl was older and much more pale. She had straight brown hair with a widow's peak. Her eyes were a dark brown with unique chocolate colored eyes.
She smiled hesitantly when she saw me. It wasn't like she was afraid. I could see some strange envy in her eyes.
"You know," She began, and her voice echoed. She laid a pale hand on my elbow and I looked down at it, then back up at her. "You're sort of beautiful."
It was such an absurd statement to hear from a girl to a guy. I rolled my eyes. "You hit your head pretty hard, didn't you?"
"I'm serious," She said earnestly.
"Well...," I thought about it. "Thanks...Sort of."
"You're sort of welcome," was her reply. Her smile was so warm that it was so easy to smile back.
Bella?
The last word echoed throughout my membrane for a long time. Instead of growing fainter, it grew stronger. Until I jumped up.
"Bella? Who's Bella?"I questioned loudly.
It took a minute to realize I was in school, in a room where the whole class was looking at me. After a moment, a few girls in the vicinity broke into giggles.
"Mister Wright. I do not tolerate 'napping' in my class," Mrs. Blake snapped from her desk at the front. "If you cannot find something to do, you are free to read from your literary textbook. However I will not tolerate any heads down, is that clear?"
"It's clear," I murmured.
"Good," Mrs. Blake said, looking back down at her stack of graded papers.
The bell rang shortly after and I was still recovering from the dream. The voice at the end...It was so strong and strangely familiar. It reminded me of last night. When I heard a chorus of the word 'traitor' in my head.
Wasn't there someone laughing?
I thought it was someone outside in the bonfire, laughing at me being stupid and having a freak-out. Now, I wasn't so sure. It sounded like it was in my head...
Who was Bella?
I stayed at my desk, debating this, even as the class was empty all around me.
It wasn't until I felt Cristina's warm fingers curl around my wrist that I woke out of my own internal train of thoughts. "Nick? Nick, are you okay?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine...Just thinking about something," I muttered, scratching my head and looking up at her. "I don't think I'm going to like this class."
"That's what you were thinking about?" She asked, stepping back so I could edge out of my seat. I did so and picked up the new turquoise book that was assigned to me.
"Yeah," I lied, and lowered my voice so Mrs. Blake, still busy at her desk, couldn't hear me. "Seems hard."
"It's not, don't worry about it," Cristina explained, heading to the door with me following. "It's your lunch hour. Mine too. I can show you the cafeteria if you want me too."
"That'd be great," I said, remembering Chelsea. I was relieved to be back in the hallway. " I have someone to meet there."
"Oh you do? Making friends already?" She sounded proud of me.
I smiled wryly at her. "Sort of."
"Who's the lucky gal? Or guy?" She inquired.
"Chelsea Whittier,"
"Hmm," said Cristina thoughtfully. She was frowning.
"What's up?"
"Nothing, nothing," She hit a corner I could see a line leading past the lockers. "This is the line. It moves fast, trust me."
I opened my mouth to speak as we got in line only to hear a couple speaking loudly behind us in what had to be an argument. The guy had curly brown hair and his girlfriend had long strawberry blond hair.
"Why do you do that?" He was saying indignantly. "You always do that when you're upset...Why?"
But the reason behind whatever the girl did during her upset time, I never heard.
Instead, there was a different voice I heard. It was the same one I had heard moments before while I was sleeping in class.
"It hurts to think about them," said the girl. Her voice reverberated like before. I closed my eyes and saw her again. It was different this time, and not just her clothes or her general fragile, slightly sickly appearance. There was an aura of discord between us. She had one arm bound around her chest like she was holding herself together. Her expression was so pained, I felt a flutter of remorse in my heartbeat.
"It's like I can't breathe...," She whispered. "...like I'm breaking into pieces."
My fingers ached to touch her, to comfort her somehow.
"It's oka-" I began until the next word caught on my throat and I was violently shoved backwards, back into reality.
The voice that broke through my head was shattering, silencing my little delusion. Everything went into a haze of black fog.
Mine.
What? I asked back, thinking this was ridiculously stupid. I was speaking to...nothing, wasn't I?
But he answered me, this flaming hot male. His voice was not echoing like Bella's. It was loud and everywhere. I felt a gravitational weight push down on my head.
MINE. This voice said more pointedly, furiously. SHE IS...MINE. NOT EDWARD'S. MINE.
"Nick? Nick! Are you all right?"
I hadn't fallen. Hadn't passed out like I had thought. My place was exactly where I left it, standing next to Cristina, except that the line had moved some and she was staring up at me with a concerned expression, tugging on my arm. The couple behind us before was getting impatient.
I blinked and felt my vision blur with hot tears. I felt them roll down my cheeks in a torrent.
"Um," I said, cupping my mouth with my hand as fresh tears replaced the old ones, streaming. "I'm sorry...I just...suddenly felt sad."
"Are you okay?" Cristina asked, shocked. She moved, releasing my arm to grip my shoulder, a commendable feat on her part, given her height.
"I'm fine. Excuse me," I said, shaking off her grip and rushing backwards. I hurled past a blur of faces that gawked at me as I passed. But I didn't last long enough to get a second look. Instead I threw myself into the boy's bathroom, where chance allowed it to be empty for me. I chose one of the sinks with a mirror in front of it to calm down, gripping either side of it like it was my life force.
I looked up in the mirror after a moment's reprieve. My face was terrible, with streaks of tear tracks on my cheeks and puffiness around my eyes. No more arrogance on my looks like this morning.
My heart beat was out of control, erratic and uneven. I seized the front of my jersey and held it away from any contact with my skin. Somehow the notion became familiar, but I wasn't thinking about that.
It was that girl. It was that voice in my head. The laughing one and the mysterious one who cried Bella and then the MINE a moment ago. Probably the same one.
I didn't know what was going on, but the sadness I felt just now was damn near tangible. I could feel her pain then. I could feel it echo inside of me from side to side, tearing down the walls and ripping me apart.
I released the sink and almost fell flat on my face. But my legs staggered faultily towards the stall behind me. My stomach heaved just at the right moment and I threw up. There was nothing much to vomit, just the sip of water I had taken from a fountain an hour ago mixed with my own saliva.
My throat felt dry and papery and my stomach felt like it was on fire. Ironically, though, I felt a little better. The pain was receding to a dull ache in the back of my head, pounding faintly.
I flushed the toilet and closed the door, sitting. I needed a moment. Just a breather. Everything was fine. I was going to be okay. There was nothing to worry about.
Now go back, before you freak Cristina out some more, I advised myself.
That'd do. I began to slide the door open for my stall when I heard the actual restroom door creak open with a sound reminiscent to nails on the chalk board. I slid my lock closed again. I didn't want anyone to see me. I probably looked like...some loser who just threw up and had a little cry.
But my heard plummeted at the realization of who it was through the crevice between the stall door and the wall.
It was Kyle Carson. Eff my life.
Kyle Carson and two others dressed just like him with biker-like attire and they were each taller than him. Except that one, the spiky black-haired on that was kind of lanky, had a wallet chain hanging out of his baggy black jeans. The other, a tall muscular sort with bronze hair had a black bandana, not on his head but around his neck.
"Damn," Kyle was saying.
"Next time, man," said the black-haired boy.
"Shut up," Kyle snapped. "I'm trying to think."
He moved to the same sink I had been a moment before, his hands on either side of it just like me. He was looking, no, glaring at his own reflection staring back at him with a mixture of disappointment and utter revulsion.
"You'll find it, Kyle. Just chill out," said the other boy. "It's not like Weltz was going to let you out of his sight for any amount of time."
There was a strange sound. Like a snarl, but no human could have made it...or at least I didn't think so. But Kyle seemed to manage.
"I'm tired of these attempts. Always a damn attempt," Kyle growled, continuing to glare at his reflection. He sighed and turned around with his back to the mirror, facing his two comrades. "The old snatchy principal is going to send me into therapy if one of us doesn't find those damn old school files."
"If they're even there," the bronze-haired boy interjected calmly.
Kyle threw him a dirty look. "Right. And all our trouble be for nothing?"
"There's no proof that they don't just ditch old student records when the student leaves. Honestly man, if they kept a file on every student that ever existed in this school, it wouldn't be one room...It'd be every room in this school up to the rear with filing cabinets," said the same bandana boy.
"You don't know that, Steven," Kyle said, enunciating the boy's name like it was an insult.
"No," agreed Steven "I don't. But, you're the one walking around claiming..."
And the next word was strange, it had to be my own hearing being garbled. There was no way Steven could have said the word 'vampires.'
But the next word was definitely 'exist'. So maybe...it was?
These boys were insane...Great. Lunatics in high school and I was in the stall. I had to get out of here...Suddenly I became aware that if any of them looked at this stall, they'd be aware of the feet underneath the door. I lifted my feet up to stand on the toilet. My feet weren't steady, still somewhat wet from the rain outside.
"...agreed to this a long time ago. I don't have to prove anything," Kyle was saying when I managed to place my palms flat against the walls on either side of me. I missed the last bits of conversation, but it was clearly Kyle scolding. I felt so intrusive and uncomfortable.
"I never said I didn't believe you, Kyle," Steve was answering. "But, if you want to get things done, you need to pace yourself."
"Are you listening to this, Matt?" Kyle asked the other one, clearly. The bigger one. "He thinks I've got all the time in the world. Let me tell you both something."
"Oh no," Matt groaned.
"Screw you, all right?" Kyle answered angrily. "My parents are dead, okay? Their frickin' throats ripped out. Their blood all over the room. It wasn't a bear like the news said. There was footprints. There was just no fingerprints, no other solid evidence. But just because we were out at the damn lakehouse near a forest...they said.."
"An animal attack," Steven finished with the tone of someone who'd heard this too many times. "and that the footprints were probably your parents trying to fend it off."
"And if that was true," said Kyle with blatant fervor. The other two must have made gestures of trying to silence him, but whatever it was, it made him more determined to speak and get through to these two. "If that was true...I would have woken up. I would have heard...something. Cristina, too. And we didn't. No one screamed...and I think..."
He blew out a sigh. "I think they never even got the chance..."
"We'll find them, Kyle. If there are some parasites in Forks, trust me. We're gunna find them," Matt assured him. He sounded further now, maybe he had grown closer to Kyle in the course of his little story.
But now the need to get out of here was nearly frightening. I had to. I was hearing too much. These people were plotting some kind of much-needed revenge on...something. I didn't even want to dwell on what. Because it was impossible. Then again, with what just happened to me: impossible suddenly seemed possible.
I was hearing voices in my head and getting odd visions of a chick I didn't know. Maybe Kyle and his boys weren't even really outside and I was imagining things.
And at that moment, I slipped.
It wasn't in anyway cool. I didn't catch myself and some miracle happened to where the occupants outside my stall cut close to finding me but turned to corner to find the stall empty. No.
I wasn't that lucky.
Instead my legs flew in the air after slipping straight off the porcelain throne. I kicked my own stall open with both feet while landing painfully on my bottom with my rear end and calves stinging painfully.
For a moment, the three boys just stared at me and I stared at them, stunned.
Then Kyle's face contorted with fury and while my stall door was beginning to close, he threw it open again.
"What's this? A little white mouse in the stall without his meat hanging out," Kyle reached down and seized me, pulling me to him. I was taller than him. I remember that and I knew that. But because of the force, he was holding me by the shirt to his chest, while my feet and knees were held limp.
"Come here often?" I had heard Steven be calm and collected for Kyle, but now his face was remote and unfriendly, even though his voice mocked it, like he was speaking to a girl.
"I remember this guy," Matt noted, pulling the bandana away from his neck and pulling it over his face so that his mouth and his nose were covered. He looked like a ninja except that the design on the bandana was a skull, so where his mouth had been, a skeleton's teeth now were. "He's the one who was all balls for Chelsea in my Chem class. It was frickin' sick to look at."
I saw Kyle twitch a little, glancing from Matt back to me, his expression became more lethal. He gave me a little shake. "Is that right?"
"I don't know what he's talking about-" I began helplessly.
"Shut up," Kyle growled. "What did you just hear? How long have you been listening?"
"I didn't hear anything okay? I just...felt a little sick, so I did my business and now I'm-"
"He's lying," Steven remarked, watching my face. " I can see it in his eyes."
"You're lying?" Kyle's voice was calmer. But through that deadly calm I could see the danger under the surface. It was different than talking to the stranger yesterday named Black. Kyle felt more tangible, and his danger did too. He wasn't someone you screwed around with. I had been at this school a grand total of four hours to tell that for myself.
There was a reason why even big Matt listened to smaller Kyle. Because Kyle had something surrounding him that no one else had: An innate predator ability to feed off the fear off the others and make himself more intimidating.
But what was the point of lying, here and now? How could you NOT have overheard such a conversation?
"Wrong place, wrong time, I know," I muttered.
"Yeah, that's right. You know what we do to Gossiping Nancies?" Matt asked me, coming close next to Kyle. He took my ear between his fingers and pinched hard.
"I'm not going to tell anyone what I heard," I said, as if they'd believe me.
"And we're going to make sure of it," said Kyle, releasing me. I slumped away and my back hit the toilet I had just been occupying. His face was thoughtful, a finger tracing his jawline. "What's your name, kid?"
The kid suffix made me freeze. I couldn't have been younger than this guy. If anything, I was probably older. We both must have been seniors. No junior could pull of that aura of authority. But I answered him and my voice came out a little high. "Nick..It's...It's Nick, all right?"
"You're lying, again," Kyle replied, his face mirroring disapproval.
"I'm not," I said, defiance making my voice stronger.
"That's not your true name," said Kyle. But he shrugged. "Whatever. Nick. Listen...We gotta make an example out of little girls like you. I mean c'mon. I got a rep to keep around this bitch of a high school."
He knelt down, and the position mirrored Black last night. With his arm draped coolly over his raised thigh. He reached out to me and I flinched back. But his extended hand didn't recoil or move. Instead he brushed a few strands of my hair away from my forehead and placed his palm flat on it.
"Consider yourself marked. I'll be seein' ya,"His eyes burned into mine and I found that it was impossible not to notice before his relation to Cristina. Those eyes were just as green, but whereas Cristina's were just large in height, Kyle's were larger in width, straight as arrows when narrowed. And right now, they were.
He stood up, the fire leaving his pointed eyes. He nodded to Steven and Matt who just looked down at me with amusement and pity. I felt so embarrassed and weak and stupid.
One by one, with Kyle leading, the three of them left. And I was left against the toilet, feeling more humiliated than I'd ever felt. As if I had anything else to go on though.
I stayed until the bell rang, hoping Cristina was gone and gave up on me. When I exited the bathroom at last, she was there, waiting for me with a concerned look on her face.
"Are you okay?" She asked, taking one look at my face. I wondered if Kyle had passed her here, or if she had been here that long to begin with.
"I'm fine," I answered shortly. I wasn't going to have a girl help me get out of whatever Kyle had in store for me. I didn't know. But it wasn't her concern. Her brother, but not her concern.
She escorted me to the next class without a word. And so on and so forth. I wasn't really paying attention anymore. Speech was boring and stupid. I had to explain who the hell I was again just like in Trig and give a little speech about why I came to Forks High. It was lame and the teacher, Ms. Watson wasn't impressed but perhaps something in my face told her not to push me to elaborate because I took my seat without another word to anyone until Cristina picked me up for the next class.
Gym was lucky for me. It was volleyball season starting and today was just the mechanics. I sat on the bleachers like the rest of the kids while the Coach passed out packets going over the rules and regulations of the sports. I felt a twinge of fear when I saw Kyle walk in late. The coach stopped mid-speech to look at him then back to his papers. Apparently, Kyle was always late.
He didn't seem to notice me from my position in the far right corner of the bleachers. For that I was grateful. He took a packet that had been reserved on an empty seat near the front row and flipped through it carelessly.
When the bell rang, I ensured Kyle walked out before I did, and then I dawdled at the entrance to the basketball court waiting for Cristina. When she showed up, she asked me again.
"Are you sure you're okay? You're so pale. What happened at lunch?" She asked.
"I'm fine, really. Don't worry about it. First day jitters," I told her impassively.
She didn't seem totally convinced, but I could tell she knew I wasn't going to elaborate. Maybe she also noticed it was hard to look at her in the face now. Those eyes so like her brothers...and not to mention a face so much like the haunting girl that had plagued me twice in one day.
She entered the Theater class with me this time. Last class of the day. I was so relieved to just pluck a seat in the back and I hoped Cristina would take one with her friends or something. I noticed she was popular here. Or maybe she was popular in every class, and because she had been escorting me around all day, I didn't see it. But people genuinely seemed to like Cristina.
'Cristina, did you do the homework? Do you know your lines? I didn't study at all!" One red headed girl asked.
"Cristina, can you help me go over this Trig work tonight?"
"Hey, Cristina, I know your busy, but how about that Homecoming dance next week?"(This from a guy)
She smiled at all of them, politely answered some, and gently turned down the jock asking her to homecoming. "I'm not going." she had said in a soft but final tone.
When the teacher walked in, I gawked. It was a man of about forty or forty-one who was balding with only some hair on either side of his head, but the top was scant with nothing. It wasn't his elderly appearance, it was the way he was dressed. A complete replica of Captain Jack Sparrow except with an eye patch. He even had a plastic sheath for his sword. None of the students seem surprised by his look and when he walked to the front, he plucked a large, flamboyant pirate hat off the chalk board and promptly stuck it on his head.
He caught my startled eye and grinned. "Yar. Where there is sea, there is pirates, lad."
"I don't see any sea," I remarked. Cristina took her place beside me.
"I'm putting your books in your locker. It's Locker Three-forty-nine. You'll find it, right? It's in the first building. You know where the front office was?" She asked, under her breath, placing a folded piece of paper on my desk.
"Yeah, I remember," I replied, still not taking my eyes off the weird teacher. I looked down at the paper. "What's this?
She noticed my scrutiny of the teacher and beamed. "I told you, you'd like him. And that's your locker combination."
"Like him? He's...,"
"I know!" said Cristina cheerfully while I pocketed the paper.
There was indeed a play going on. It was such an odd class. The teacher, Mr. Alexander, stayed in the back, with me, his legs up on the desk in front of him and his exposed eye slightly closed in a merry way. He began humming some weird tune that actually did sound like it came from a pirate at sea. Though I knew a little why he was wearing such an absurd costume. The play was about pirates.
A maiden lost at sea(That was Cristina) with her long lost love sailing to find her. That was the jock who had asked her to homecoming. Some boy band reject with too long hair and parted. He ran his hands through it too many times. Cristina looked beautiful in her costume, a white shift trailing down along with a diamond garter and a diadem. Like a queen, I thought.
The homecoming boy was the pirate searching for her. I was here to see the end of the play altogether. The maiden had and her handmaidens were on one side of the ship stage they had pulled out for this and the boy on the other with his mates. He wasn't a pirate, I assumed from the beginning, but his crew had made him so to like the lifestyle. Most of the play was him lamenting about what his love would think of him when he found her. Little did he know though, that she had grown accustomed to the sea life herself, of the adventure. She had even met another who had said her love had died searching for her. And so she began to fall in love with this other man, dressed similarly to Mr. Alexander.
The play was ending with the boy finding his love in the arms of another. He challenged his new rival to battle and a comical battle of plastic swords ensued with the maiden trying helplessly to stop it. Eventually the homecoming boy walked up to his love and demanded she choose between them.
But the other man was persistent. He took Cristina's hands in his own and said.
"Nay, maiden. I love thee more than there are stars in the sky. Choose me. I love thee, and I want you to have me instead of this sea urchin! Let no scruples stand in your way! You shall always have me at your side!"
It was interesting to see her open her mouth and stare at him in disbelief. Cristina really was a great actress. Perfect casting. She was so beautiful, after all.
And when she began to talk, she said his name. Which I didn't catch. Cristina's voice faded into an echo and I heard a stronger, more confident voice speak without accent but strong inflection.
"I'm in love with you, Bella...Bella, I love you. And I want you to pick me instead of him. I know...you don't feel that way, but I need the truth out there so you know your options. I wouldn't want a miscommunication to stand in our way."
There was a jumble of incoherent words after this that I couldn't decipher for the life of me...and then her voice again.
"...You're family. I love you, but I'm not in love with you."
There was an unmistakable ache in my chest when I pulled back to reality. Luckily there was no audience to my pain. I was just sitting in the class as the sounds of the students' applause stopped me short. I hurriedly clapped along with them while the particpants of the play all held hands and took a bow. This must have been a big project. The teacher was clapping too and all eyes were for him.
I tuned him out as he gave his evaluation for each character, feeling self-conscious that if they were looking at him, they were looking at me. Eventually he moved to the front of the class and gave a speech. The actors in the pirate play went into a back closet where I assumed they were putting on their regular clothing.
"Life is a stage, kids," Alexander began. "It's a big stage and we're the actors. Everywhere in life, we're acting. Whether for your friends, or for your family. You're not the same everywhere you go. I want everyone to write me an essay. One page. Tell me about some times where you're just playing the part. Be honest. You all talk differently with everyone you speak too. So I don't expect any papers turned in with 'I don't act for anyone.' That gets a zero, class. A what? A zero."
"Class dismissed, try not to crowd the front doors, people," Alexander murmured as the class began to hustle on out of the door.
"You were great, Cristina," I said when she came to my side and picked up her stuff from her desk.
"Thank you," She said gratefully." I think I kind of pushed it on the Scandinavian accent."
"No, I couldn't even tell it was you," I answered, looking up at her, finally after so long. She held my gaze for a moment.
"Well...Do you...-" She began.
"I can find my way to the parking lot," I said, almost rudely, so I corrected my tone. "But thanks. Really, for today."
I stood up and extended my hand to her. "I really couldn't have gotten through it without you. Thanks. A lot."
"You're welcome," She said, seeming not to notice my earlier rude tone and shaking my hand. Her touch was so nice and warm. "If you need any help. My first class is in the same building. I'll help you."
"Thanks," I said again, shaking her hand once more while she began to leave. I watched her leave with a feeling of slight sadness that reignited the ache in my chest wretchedly. She didn't seem to notice my expression's steady descent and for that I was grateful.
A moment later, I walked out, rolling my papers into one little fold and following her out. She was gone when I came outside, but that was expected.
I exited the building easily and stepped out into the rain. The parking lot was in clear sight. I walked down the steps only to feel my foot collide painfully with something hard. I fell forward painfully, my face landing in the grass near the sidewalk and my papers full of rain water and mud, rolled away from my hands.
"You," A menacing voice said above me. "should be more careful on these wet parts. Can't you see it's raining? Step lightly, idiot."
I craned my neck around to see Kyle walking away with the other two, towards the motorcycles chained to some bars. Heat flooded my face, but it wasn't embarassment this time, just pure hatred. He tripped me. And I didn't even see it or him. What was wrong with me?
He was still laughing as his motorcycle started up, splattering me with more mud.
I heard a chorus of laughter around me, but I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing my face, hideous as it was. Instead I got up, brushed myself off(which worsened the effect) and walked into the lot as a whole. Paul's honda was waiting for me.
I entered without looking at him, just glaring at the front. I thought he would be laughing, but he seemed to be looking in the same direction.
"Who was that kid just now?" He asked quietly, eyes forward.
"Kyle Carson," I spat the name like it was a string of curse words. And it should have been.
"Hmm," Paul said, his face was remote when I looked over and he turned his gaze to the window, staring where Kyle and his buddies had been a moment ago. "You all right?"
"I'm fine," Would people stop asking me that?
"Okay," He said without argument, starting the car up to go to what I knew to be the closest thing to Heaven right about now.
