BPOV
I had only just pulled into the drive way when the engine of the truck coughed and spluttered to a halt. I tried twisting the key into the ignition again but the noise sounded more like a feeble wheeze than the raucous roar that I had become accustomed to. Being a decidedly weak character, in feminist standards at least, I had not the slightest clue as to where to begin to fix the foolish machine. I also had no idea when or if Charlie would be home. I liked the house to myself, but I liked not having to walk miles in the rain to get anywhere even more. I sighed.
I walked inside the house, looked around and was so utterly bored with everything after a few short weeks of being here I wanted to cry. I could cook, but it seemed to be just me for dinner so there wasn't much point in cooking some elaborate fare. I had read every book I had with me at least three times. I had no friends to make plans with, I had no homework, I didn't watch TV and I wouldn't know how to turn on the set even if I did. All of these realities lead me to reminisce in one that I didn't particularly wish to face. My English teacher. I went to bed early, hoping mainly to be up in time in the morning to make the walk to school. But also perversely yearning for sweet dreams starring a certain square jawed man.
Morning came with no sense of renewal. I was bleary eyed and silly with sleep. I stumbled getting out of bed and wondered idly if I would be able to make the entire walk without undergoing a fit of clumsiness and falling over in the rain. I highly doubted it.
To say I was unathletic would have been an understatement of epic proportions. If I even made it out of the street without red cheeks and a chest tight from exertion it would be a miracle. Why did my truck have to break when Charlie was out of the house?
When I finally shuffled into school I was soaked to the bone. The jeans I had stupidly worn (though I had few other options in the wardrobe department) clung to my legs like a second skin and my knees were uncomfortable with the friction. I braced myself to walk into my English class. I had been taught for the majority of my adolescent life that being late would have dire consequences. I was nervous for all eyes to be on me to, one pair of eyes in particular.
Though I was expecting them, his harsh words stung and he looked at me with no little annoyance clouding his perfect face. I sat down and tried to remain inconspicuous for the remainder of the lesson.
When he strolled over to me at the end, I prepared myself for a punishment. His arm raised, and my eyes closed. Here it came... But nothing. Nothing happened. And the prickly heat of embarrassment flooded through me the way it does when you fall over in public. Shame heated my face and spread rapidly to each of my limbs. I was steeled for punishment, so was completely disarmed when I was met with only kindness and concern. So disarmed I didn't even argue when he offered me a lift home. Shocked didn't even cover the emotion that plagued me.
I floated through the rest of my day on a breeze, not taking anything in that I was being taught. I had butterflies in the pit of my stomach that were less romantic and just making me nauseated. What conversation would I possibly be able to keep with this magnificent, mature and intelligent man? As someone that studiously avoided awkward, it was probably better if I walked home.
The last bell rang with a pitch that was obviously mocking me, alerting me to my impending death by awkward silence. I trudged towards the English room with the resignation that by 4 o'clock this afternoon Mr. Cullen would think I was a completely incompetent at life. I wouldn't have minded quite so much but the close proximity with the man who had been making appearances in both my day dreams and night dreams was bound to make me a bumbling idiot.
I opened the door and he wasn't anywhere. My heart sank and I let out the breath I had only just realised that I was holding. He'd forgotten what he'd said to me. Probably forgotten that he'd spoken to me at all today. Maybe even forgotten he had a student called Bella Swan who walked miles in the pouring rain just to get to her English lesson on time. I was being irrational, I knew. But the emptiness ached.
I turned on my heel quickly to leave, but in true Bella fashion I collided with something hard, and warm. I felt my face flush as I recognised the grey knit jumper whose sleeves had been rolled up to reveal pale, sinewy forearms. I began to apologise.
"Oh, Sir! I'm so sorry I thought you'd..."
His voice was smooth, like the soft rustle of fabric as it hits a floor. "You thought what, Isabella?"
His eyes were intense as he spoke, boring into my own as he questioned me. His casual use of my full name didn't have me cringing as it usually did.
"I thought.. Maybe. You didn't recall what you said this morning. I was going to start walking..." I trailed off. Unsure of what else to say to fill the silence.
"Of course not", he replied quickly. He began searching around for his satchel as he fired his laptop on. "What's your zip code? I'll get directions so we don't end up in a tree because I forget my left and my right" he laughed, easing the intensity of his stare.
He quickly scanned the screen, shut the lid and slid the computer into his battered satchel along with the few stacks of paper that littered his desk.
"Let's get going, shall we?"
He ushered me towards a shiny silver car. I was clueless in most car matters, hence the reason I was being offered a lift in the first place, but this car was a volvo. It said so on the "male" symbol on the front. Men and their cars.
He walked towards my side of the car, and I wondered if it was a right hand drive, like they had in Britain. My face must have betrayed my confusion, because he chuckled as he opened the door for me to get in. I blushed, and thanked him as he gently closed the door behind me.
He got in, grinned widely at me and said with more meaning than I'm sure he intended, "Let's go then, hmm?"
Thank you so much for your patience with this story, it has been difficult to get chapters out as I am writing from the hospital. The next chapter should be up very soon. Thank you again.
