My Life, My Pain, My Struggles

Dislcaimer: I do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. This was created 'cause I felt like entertaining myself and other readers.

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Even though Elise told me to, I didn't hunt that night. I felt that I had to watch over her for the night, then hunt in the morning before school. So I did. We left Peter and company at the house and told them that we would be back from school at 3:00 PM.

So Elise and I walked to the bus stop. I wanted to hold her hand, but I didn't because my hands were as cold as the north wind. So instead, I wrapped my right arm around her shoulder. She blushed. Thank God I actually hunted this morning. I could still taste the blood of that deer...

"Your blush is lovely," I said aloud. I immediately regretted it. I didn't mean to say something like that.

She blushed furiously. ".....Thank you."

I decided to change the subject. "So what do you think about my friends?"

"Mary was very lively and friendly. I liked her. She's wicked nice. She and Charlotte are like sisters I've never had. Actually, Charlotte is more like a mother type than a sister, but I still like her. Peter and Randall were wicked nice, too. They're all good people.... or vampires. Whichever you refer to."

I smiled. The bus arrived. We hopped on and sat in the way back of the bus. I pulled out my Ipod.

"Want to listen?" I asked.

"Sure. I want to see what kind of music you like."

She put the right headphone in her ear. I played the "Turkish March" by Mozart. She looked like she was enjoying the song. I smiled. She had good taste in music. I didn't have a problem with Taking Back Sunday or My Chemical Romance.

I liked those bands. They had some really badass people in the band. Like the drummer in My Chemical Romance, Bob Bryar. He could really kick ass. And Gerard Way had an awesome and powerful voice. Ray Toro, a guitarist in the same band, was freaking amazing with his guitar solo in the song "Dead." He was also doing a really good job with that other guitar solo in "Teenagers."

Adam Lazzara, the lead singer of Taking Back Sunday, was wicked good. I liked his and Fred Mascherino's version of "The Twelve Days of Christmas." It made me laugh my ass off at how they kept saying "And a Danny Bonaduce..." instead of "And a partridge in a pear tree..."

Enough of my mental musical rant. The bands were total badass, I'll leave it at that. The bus finally reached Helena High School. Elise and I got off the bus. I put my arm around her again as we walked into the school. Students were gawking at us. I held back a laugh. Elise and I were about to become the school's latest "item."

"Not embarrassed yet?" I asked her, chuckling.

"Shut up," she muttered.

"Hey, now you'll understand what the limelight is like," I teased.

Two idiotic boys were running down the hallway. They were in the other homeroom for nineth grade. They were tossing a football at eachother.

"Hey, Whitlock!" The taller boy, Ashton Blec tossed the football at me without a warning. Immediately, I caught they football before it hit either my or Elise's head.

"Thanks," I muttered, tossing it back. "But I don't want to play your game right now. Sorry."

The shorter boy, Charlie Marker, rolled his eyes as he and Ashton Blec walked away. I put my arm around Elise's shoulder again. Once we entered the classroom, I laughed.

"What is it?" Elise asked nervously.

"I'll tell you at lunch," I laughed.

I could sense waves of jealousy coming off of Tia Ryan (Now that's a surprise), Red, the raven-haired girl, Mr. Smittie (?!), and a random cheerleader girl in the room. This was going to be freaking entertaining.

"A-All right, class... Settle the hell down.... Take a freaking seat please, Jasper.... Miss Rose," muttered Mr. Smittie. Wait. Did Mr. freaking Smittie just swear?! Christ, this was really amusing. Some of the students snickered, excluding the students that were jealous. Elise laughed. I could listen to that sound all day... It never got old.

The bell rang. Mr Smittie jumped up out of his chair at his desk and tripped over himself. Everyone, including myself, laughed their asses off. Mr. Smittie got up with a murderous look in his eyes. I didn't know if the class was either scared or still laughing.

I was laughing my ass off. So was Elise. This was better than cable. This guy looked like a freaking tool.

"Now you all listen the f**k here," Mr. Smittie said in a low, dangerous voice. A nerdy boy shrank back into his seat. Everyone else was still smirking.

Another nerdy boy was snorting (disgusting!) as he laughed. He was the only one laughing. Mr. Smittie glared. I held back a laugh of my own. This was hilarious.

"You!" Mr. Smittie yelled. "Shut the hell up! Someday, someone'll bitch-slap you, and none of us are gonna do one thing to stop it. Don't come crawling back to dear old Mr. Smittie, bawling your eyes out!"

"Mr. Smittie," I spoke up. Everyone looked at me, shocked. "You look like a tool. Please, just piss off!"

"Jasper f***ing Whitlock! I am giving a lecture now. Shut the f**k up!"

"More like giving us a lesson on losing control of your self-anger or jealousy," I retorted. "Just 'cause your in a pissy mood, doesn't mean that you can take it out on us. And don't be telling me what to do when you're pissed. Just PLEASE, do role-call or something that's actually necessary."

Mr. Smittie's eyes were brimmed with tears. Everyone laughed, including me. Some prep called out, "Good-bye! Have fun! Good luck! We will most definitely MISS you!"

Mr. Smittie ran out of the oom, bawling his eyes out. The bell finally rang. Mr. Smittie had finished his little "Episode" of jealousy.