Three days later, not much had changed
Three days later, not much had changed. I considered Clara a fine acquaintance now, trying to ignore her clear admiration. Other than math, Clara ended up being extremely intelligent, and fairly well versed in music of the past twenty years. Not bad. Alice still haunted my room at night, watching me do homework, bombarding me with questions, or just sitting in silence while I listened to music. Rosalie and Emmett had returned from hunting. I could tell Rosalie was going to take a while to warm to me. Emmett was still indignant that I could beat him at video games, but it was all in good fun.
Except for the time he threw me through a wall. But that was two days ago and I…still haven't totally forgiven him. What can I say? I was wearing a very old, fragile t-shirt that could be worth thousands and now has a not so subtle whole in the chest.
Alice had left a few hours ago declaring that I was boring and went off to seek Jasper.
I watched as the velvety blanket of night morphed into the muted light of day. I changed slowly, pulling on black jeans and a slightly newer (in comparison to the rest of my wardrobe) t-shirt for Filled With Awe (another made up futuristic band).
I had learned that a small part of the reason I stood out was my height (as pointed out to me by Clara many times when her neck would start hurting when she talked to me). So I had taken to wearing shoes that added as little to my height as possible and slouching most of the time. Hey, it can't hurt me anymore. Have you ever seen a vampire with a humpback? The answer is no in case you haven't had enough experience with the undead.
I said my farewells to Edward in my mind, and waved to Bella as I walked by. Out in the garage Rosalie was working on one of the Cullen's many cars. I attempted a polite smile, but I have a feeling it didn't go so very well. Rosalie looked almost in pain as she eyed my, as she called "the gothic pile of spare parts". I couldn't really fault her. Even a car of respectable quality and upkeep would look like it came from a junkyard compared to their showcase of foriegn sports cars.
Today began a lot like the first two. Take notes in history. Endure English.
Math had definitely become the high point of my day. Clara and I had fallen into a steady routine. Take notes from what Mrs. Ramone explains. Re-teach to Clara what Mrs. Ramone just explained. Take the surprise quiz that happens every day. Watch Clara be baffled at how she could have possibly gotten so many wrong. Then spend the rest of class listening to the music the teacher put on when she gave us time for homework.
Definitely the best hour and a half I have ever spent.
"Did you get taller?" Clara asked on the way to German.
"No. I'm trying to be shorter," I said, put out.
"Well I finally found something you're truly awful at," Clara said craning her neck to look up at me, "Although you do make a lovely rain shield," she beamed.
I shoved her not so gently as several large raindrops punctuated her statement by hitting me in the face.
"Abuse!" Clara said jokingly, returning to cling to my side.
"If you weren't three feet tall, that wouldn't have even budged you," I lied.
"I am just vertically challenged," she sniffed.
After several practice conversations in German ("I enjoy sausage," "I too am a fan of the tubular meats," "Alexander! That is shelf," "Ummm…Clara you just told me that my fandom of tubular meats was shelf," "I'm more of an Italian girl,"), the bell rang and we were released.
"What did you say earlier during the sausage conversation?" Clara asked, once again seeking shelter behind my taller frame.
"Well you started by saying you enjoy sausage. I replied that I too was a fan of tubular meat. And then you said "Alexander! That is shelf," and then we started speaking English again," I told her, my head tilted down.
"We do have enthralling conversations."
I sat down across from Errol. He kept his head down, and only grunted when I greeted him.
Maybe he won't notice. Nobody ever notices. Flaw in plan: Nobody ever looks long enough to notice. Shit.
I always tried not to read his mind. Well tried being the operative word. I rarely succeeded.
"What is wrong with you?" I asked, attempting a light tone, but not achieving it.
"Nothing," Errol said, shifting his head slightly so his hair covered part of his face. That can't be good. I pretended to drop the subject and started listening to music. A few minutes later I surreptitiously pulled out the ear buds. I started at him for a moment and then said in false panic,
"Oh God!" Errol's head jerked up, alarmed, looking every which way. I could see a bruise on his cheek roughly the size of an apple. Or a fist.
"What happened to you?" I said back to my calm demeanor. He glared at me for a long moment before realizing he wasn't particularly menacing. Maybe I had always just gotten more practice, but I felt like gray eyes were the best eyes to glare with. Like ice. Black and red were pretty effective too, but unless you wanted to give up your soul or get contacts, red and black weren't readily available to most humans.
"I got attacked by boxes at the record store yesterday," Errol said, attempting a light tone and a slight laugh. Attempt failed.
It could've happened. He saw the chaos back there last time he came in the store.
I gazed at him, wishing he would think of what really happened, but he appeared to be avoiding even thinking of it. That doesn't bear well. He met my gaze and held it. Our staring contest lasted until I broke the silence. I was never a patient person.
"You're lying, but I don't feel like putting the effort in to find out why," I said smoothly, before placing my ear buds back in. I began tearing the bagel in front of me into uniform pieces. I looked up to find him staring at me expectantly. He hadn't said anything or I would have heard.
"Yes?" I asked pulling the ear buds out.
"Why don't you ever eat?" Errol asked looking genuinely curious.
"Never had much of an appetite," I responded, using to telling the excuse.
"You're lying. But unfortunately for you I have enough energy to bug you to tell me why you're lying," he said, a grin I didn't trust lighting up his face.
"I have a stomach disease," I said, another lie, "Never been able to handle more than a little food a day."
"Oh," Errol said, face falling.
"What hoping for something more climactic? Let me think…" I paused slightly, "How about I am a zombie who doesn't eat food because it can never quench my need for human flesh?"
"You're not funny."
"On the contrary, I find myself intensely amusing."
I actually had to do PE now. Gross. We jogged in rectangles around the gym for twenty minutes. I spent most of that time listening to the thoughts around me. There were still a few people who hadn't quite gotten over the shock of a new face. One out of every five thoughts was a snide remark about something involving my style, my quietness, my 'creepiness', and my interaction with Errol or Clara. I could quite tell what the school's aversion was to the former, but I intended to find out…eventually.
Afterwards the coaches split us up into teams for dodge ball. I had always been good at dodging things.
Well at least when it wasn't Emmett, who was roughly the size of a bear, throwing me through a wall. Eighty-seven years and I'd been hit a lot, thrown into a lot of walls, hell even thrown a few people into walls myself, but I'd never actually been thrown through one.
The game started off, and I mostly dodged, but gripping the red cherry ball in my hand.
Never suspect your own teammate would you, gothy.
Now that is original. I have never heard that before.
Anticipating the ball thrown from a few feet behind, I whirled around to catch the ball and hurl it back. Before he knew what had happened the boy was flat on the floor with a throbbing pain where you never wanted it.
I count that as a victory for the day.
I was on my way through the parking lot later when I noticed Clara beside me, yet again using me for shelter. She was becoming like a shadow now, and although I had always imagined I would quickly become annoyed to have a constant companion, I found it almost pleasant. Clara hadn't quite realized yet that I knew she was there and was currently congratulating herself on being so sneaky.
I smiled deciding there weren't enough people around for too much caution. At top speed I back peddled and then to the right so I was directly behind her. Clara jumped surprised to be bombarded by a wave of rain. Her head snapped around looking for me. Still unaware of me, she nearly had a hard attack when I leaned over her shoulder and breathed, "Boo."
"How the hell do you do that?" she cried, furious. Latching on to my arm she pulled me pack to her side to keep her dry.
"Years of skulking," I said, grinning maliciously.
"Just for that, you need to give me a ride," Clara said.
Hmmm…that little affair gave me a way to ask for what I want without just assaulting him.
"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled leading the way to my car. I clicked the button to unlock it and slid in the front tossing my bag haphazardly over my shoulder. Clara fell into the seat next to me, and started complaining about me getting her all wet. Getting tired of her whining I pulled my hood down and started shaking my dark, wet hair at her.
"Woops," I said, turning the key. Bullet For My Valentine started screaming through the speakers. Clara groaned and turned the music down to barely a whisper.
"The moral of this story is that you should always ask, not demand," I said, smiling at her.
Friend. Friend. Friend. He's not your type anyway. Besides there is already a line to get to him. But I'm one of his friends, so maybe I have an advantage. Or a really huge disadvantage.
I felt a guilty pang, like I was leading her on. But most of the thoughts I had heard about myself had been venomous. Maybe I just wasn't listening to the right people.
Mostly we talked a about classes and things, with the occasional direction of "turn left" or "keep going straight until you see the bear carving". I subtly began turning the music back up. Or not so subtly.
"Ugh! I am going to make your car so wet…" Clara threatened sliding around in the seat, and rubbing her dripping hair against the headrest.
I laughed, unable to contain it. It was quite humorous to see a sixteen-year-old rubbing all over a car seat, looking like a half drowned cat. She finally gave up, laughing along with me.
After Clara regained her breath she finished directing me to her home. Her house was one that could only be called precious. It was painted a soft purple with a pristine white-shingled roof. A wrap around deck made it look a little bigger than its small size. Lawn gnomes were strategically placed to look like they were peaking at you out of bushes, behind a knee-high brick wall that lined the gravel walkway, or were hiding among the pansies on top of said wall.
"I know the gnomes are really dorky. But my dad collects them, and my brother likes to move them everyday," Clara said.
"No, they're cute," I said. Clara raised an eyebrow at me, "I mean your house looks like it fell out of a fairy tale book or something."
"Oh, well, we try," she said. The door to her house opened and a boy ran out, getting soaked in the rain, his bare feet splashing through puddles. He paused at the car door looking in to see who was in and then pulled it open.
"Hey Clara," he said, "Mom sent me out to see who the car was. Who's this?" he eyed me suspiciously before grasping Clara's hand. She laughed patting his arm. This must be her little brother. He looked a lot like her, only his eyes were greener than hazel, and his hair was a little blonder. He had less freckles than her, mostly spattered over the bridge of his nose.
"His name is Alexander, too. He's my friend from school," Clara explained. Alexander eyed me still, clearly not convinced of my innocence.
"You dress funny," he said finally. I chuckled, and nodded slightly.
"How old are you?" I asked, still smiling.
"I'm eight, but I am going to be nine real soon," Alexander said proudly puffing out his chest.
"Interesting definition of soon. Isn't your birthday still eight months away?" Clara asked ruffling his hair.
"Seven months, two weeks, and three days," he responded stiffly, "That's still less then a year."
"I think Clara is trying to rain on your parade," I said. Alexander nodded vigorously in agreement.
"We should go inside. Now your all wet, too," Clara observed dryly, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. She got out of the car and waved thanking me before walking up the walk with Alexander, turning back to wave and steel glances at my retreating car.
On my way home, I pondered over the car ride, seeing her home, and then meeting her brother. It gave me a strangely good feeling to see Clara's cute house, in it's nice neighborhood, with the "dorky" gnomes her dad collected. I felt a pang of unwanted jealousy too, but quickly pushed it aside.
Her brother was interesting too. He was a cute kid, but clearly did not enjoy being thought of that way. It was funny when he first asked who I was, looking all suspicious. I could see in the eight-year-olds mind he had every intention of protecting his older sister from the mysterious stranger who dressed funny. I decided that it was almost worth getting my car all wet, just to meet the other Alexander.
Almost, but not quite.
A/N Hope you enjoyed it. I am going to try to post another one or two chapters in the next few days, but Monday there won't be any updates until at least August 17. I am going back east for a family reunion. Great for me, bad for you. I will write while I am gone, but won't be able to update. Sorry! Like I said I will attempt another two updates, but no promises. Comic-con!!
Love the story? Hate the story? Love me because I am awesome? Hate me because I won't be updating after Monday for two weeks? Review to show me that love/hate.