Be proud, I am actually updating in a reasonable time frame.
A little update, I started my senior year this week, and I wildly miss online school. However, it is nice to see my friends in person.
I hope ya'll like this chapter, it's not as heavy as the past ones becuase I properly wanted to represnt depression. Depression, although constant, has its moments of "dissaperances". Distractions can help people feel normal for short periods, and I wanted Bella to have those moments as well. It's really hard to write about a character who is constantly in a state of sadness, and even harder to read it at times.
A quick thanks to Andres who calmed me down during my panic attack today and never left my side at school. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be fucntionable enough to write.
I hope you enjoy!
-Bella xoxo
xxx
Sunday came and went quickly. Filled with prescription medications, suffocating blankets, and day long naps, it was definitely uneventful. Esme gave me the day to myself since she sensed I wasn't in the mood to socialize while we ate breakfast. So instead of being subjected to a day filled with sightseeing, I spent the day in bed while my aunt went to the restaurant.
It was a relief to have her gone after such a draining two days. I loved Esme's presence, but maintaining a composed mask for her is utterly exhausting. It feels so good to not have to be put together, and to just allow my medications to numb my brain and only time I got out of bed was to eat dinner with Esme which was luckily a silent ordeal since she seemed to be tired from her day at work.
It wasn't until my alarm went off for school that I awoke again, the blasting noise startling me awake and away from my nightmares. Despite the relief I usually get from waking up from such awful dreams, I was only filled with dread as I realized what the alarm signified. For a moment, I considered shutting it off and falling back asleep to spend the rest of my day in bed. But I knew that Esme was probably already cooking breakfast, and she would be concerned if I didn't show. So I slowly got up from bed and began my usual morning routine.
By the time I took my medication, showered, brushed my teeth, applied light makeup, and blow dried my hair, it was six-forty five. I had to be at school by eight, thirty minutes before it started, so I could go to the office and receive my schedule. Knowing this, I began to swiftly browse my closet that was graciously stocked by both my Saturday shopping trip and Esme's personal shopper. She must have put in all the clothes while I was napping yesterday because I didn't even notice her in here.
I quickly threw on my Prada blue and white checkered mini skirt that Esme chose for me on Saturday and quickly became my favorite. Taking into account the colder weather we have been experiencing, I paired it with a white turtleneck crop top and white knee high platform boots which added an extra five inches to my height. I accessorized with white gold rings, layered necklaces, and earrings. Switching out my nose piercing, I exchanged my diamond stud for a silver ring to complete the look. Glancing at the mirror, I realized I captured the 70s era and was not the least disappointed. Although I was the least bit excited about school, the clothes acted as an extra comfort - a security blanket if you will.
Rushing out so I could eat breakfast, I grabbed the white Chanel backpack that Esme insisted I buy, and headed downstairs where she was cooking my favorite breakfast. Standing behind the island singing and flipping crepes, stood my aunt. Hearing my walk in, she flashed me a wide grin and turned down her music.
"Happy first day of school!" she exclaimed as she flipped a strawberry crepe onto a plate.
"Thanks," I responded with a tight lipped smile. This day was anything but happy, but she didn't need to know that.
"You look so pretty, let me get a picture of you." She took out and unzipped a white leather camera bag from a drawer on the counter. Inside layed a professional Nikon camera with multiple lenses.
With a frustrated sigh, I took a step toward her. "What is that Esme?
"Your new camera, of course," she replied in a sweet tone, probably trying to calm me down. "It's important that you go to school with the best materials, and you need to be prepared."
In all fairness, I should have seen this coming. Forks Academy for the Arts was the number one school in America to study and practice your chosen art skill, in my case, photography. I applied at the beginning of this summer out of guilt. When my mom died, Esme stopped her whole life for me. She was supposed to move to New York a few weeks after her passing to begin planning for her new restaurant, but she couldn't since she was my primary guardian. She believed consistency was what I needed the most, so she put me first even though I knew it killed her to do so. But now it was my turn to put Esme's needs over mine. That's why I applied to Forks because I knew that Esme would question my intentions if I insisted on going to any regular school in New York. She needed to see initiative in order to move to New York for her restaurant, and by sending my portfolio to Forks, I supplied just that.
But there was one problem.
I no longer take pictures, an obstacle which is going to be a challenge when you're attending a school for photography. Although Esme knows this, she believes that me attending Forks is a sign of my continuance with photography and that my previous reluctance to do so was part of the grief process. I'd like to maintain Esme's optimistic beliefs, but my reactions have been contradicting this.
Smoothing out my expression, I gave her my most grateful smile. "Of course, thank you."
"It was nothing," she waved off. "Now move back so I can take a picture."
I did just as she instructed, even flashing a funny face when she requested it. Afterwards, we ate her strawberry crepes that tasted heavenly while Esne began excitingly talking about all the opportunities the school offers.
In return, I gave only a few nods of my head and "yeahs" to the conversation, but it seemed to satisfy Esme. I was too stressed about my first day to converse, and I'm guessing that she sensed that. It wasn't until Esme notified me of the time that I began paying attention again.
"Oh shit, I need to go!" I didn't want to get in trouble on the first day, I didn't need the extra attention.
"Yes, of course. The car is waiting downstairs for you, Seth has the address already."
"Okay, thanks Esme." She truly thinks of everything. Giving her a big hug, I didn't expect to not want to let go. I wanted her to hold on and tell me to just stay home. Instead, she released me and wished me good luck whilst handing me the camera bag which I reluctantly took.
By the time I reached the lobby, I was able to pull myself together, nodding towards Leah quickly who was busy typing something on her computer to out the door, I felt the cold air of a New York fall hit me, and was relieved that I thought ahead in regards to my wardrobe. It's going to take a while to adjust from Southern California with its consistent heat to New York which actually has seasons.
Seth was waiting for me next to the SUV, and opened the door when he noticed me. "Good morning Ms. Swan." I wanted to laugh at the formal greeting, but didn't want to appear rude.
"You don't have to call me Ms. Swan, Seth. I go by Bella." He must have been embarrassed by the correction because his bronze skin reddened as he slightly nodded his head in acknowledgment.
"Okay then… Bella."
"That's better." I grinned as I stepped into the car. I could tell by Seth's young demeanor and nervousness that we are going to get along fine. He appeared to be no more than twenty-years-old which was a bit reliving since I always had difficulty being around older men.
Thankfully, he didn't continue the conversation during the car ride, and I wasn't motivated to start it. I felt far too nervous, so I focused my attention on the passing buildings and the girly pop music that played from the radio.
The car ride went by quickly, and I was surprised when Seth opened the door so soon. Taking a step out, I shyly waved goodbye to him as he wished me good luck.
Forks Academy for the Arts was old, big, and gorgeous. Similar to the brownstones and older buildings of New York, it was built from brick and contained several aged columns. The staircase leading towards the school was made from marble, as was the floor of the courtyard which held matching benches and tables. 1900s black lamp posts were placed randomly, as were the white miniature cherry blossom trees. From what I could see, the second story balconies also offered seating areas.
The grandiosity and cleanliness of the space made the building seem more like a museum than a high school. The only indication that it wasn't was the wrought iron gate which held the school's name and crest. There was no sight of even a fallen leaf and the old marble floors seemed to shine. This was definitely not like any school I attended. There were no metal detectors, graffiti, or vending machines in sight. It acted as a reminder of the cost of tuition to attend which made me feel even more anxious. That was part of the reason why I decided to put in a little more effort today than I would have when I attended Santa Monica Highschool. Weirdly, dressing in jeans and a t-shirt would make me stick out here compared to the expensive and luxurious clothes these private school kids are accustomed to.
Walking up the steps, I gripped my backpack tightly, hoping it gave me some kind of relief. It didn't. The courtyard was mostly empty, only a few students sat around conversing with each other. I wanted to ask them where the main office was, but from the way they were all subtly glancing at me, I could tell I would loathe the interaction.
Forks was the kind of school where everybody knew each other. It wasn't too small, but from what I learned from the website, most of the students attended the same arts middle school in preparation for attendance. I would be one of the few students who they didn't know, and to add to it, I was coming in three weeks late.
Ignoring them, I held my head up high and walked through the main doors. The interior of the school was just as beautiful as the exterior, if not a little shocking due to the modern additions such as the glass wall to my right. This offered a gorgeous view of the garden in the middle of the school where tables and a fountain layed amongst grass, flowers, and trees.
Yup, this school was definitely nice.
I was about to walk down the marble hallway to search for the main office when a woman stepped in front of me. She was a middle aged woman with red hair, brown eyes, and a large frame. Wearing a skirt, button up blouse, and heels, it was obvious that she worked here.
"Isabella Swan?" she asked, though it sounded more like a statement.
"Yes, please call me Bella." I'm going to get tired of informing everyone by the end of the day, but that's the price you pay by having a preference.
"Hello Bella, I am the school receptionist, Ms. Cope." She offered me a warm smile and her hand, which I shook lightly. "I'm here to guide you to the office and help you with your schedule. The school is larger than it looks and you can easily get lost."
"Thank you , please lead the way.'
She guided me through the hallway, her heels clicking against the marble. Surprisingly, we didn't stay inside the building as she lead me towards doors that lead towards a large lawn. I didn't realize that there was multiple buildings until now since I was never interested in how the school looked. I am beginning to regret that now.
Unlike the main building, the others were modern and most likely built not even twenty years ago. Angular and a combination of glass, concrete, and metal, it reminded me of the types of buildings MIT would have. A large lawn was placed in the center which looked perfectly mowed and strangely picturesque.
Walking down a brick path, guided me towards a large glass building that was covered with vines as she rambled on about how excited the school was to have me while I nodded my head in acknowledgment. The inside was similar to a modern hotel lobby especially since a large receptionist desk sat in the middle of the space.
Ms. Cope walked around the desk and sat on her chair. "So Bella, I am going to give you your schedule, a map, your locker information, and a catalog of what our school offers. However, it will be principal Greene who is going to give you the official welcoming speech."
I wanted to tell her that it wasn't necessary, but she already handed me my schedule and began explaining it.
"This school is a bit unconventional when it comes to classes since we want to balance between your prospective talents, school curriculum, and nurture a well rounded student. That's why some of your classes may seem a bit odd." I gave her a worried look but she just laughed it off. "Don't worry, most of the students find it more preferable than the strict structures of public schools."
"I color coded every class on your schedule to its location." She handed me a detailed map of the campus with several colorful circles. On top she then placed my locker information and thick catalog. "If you are interested in any clubs, volunteer opportunities, or sports, just look through here and it should supply all the information. Any questions?"
Scanning the papers, I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed. "Nope, I think you covered it."
"Good, follow me." She led me up a glass spiral staircase that offered a beautiful view of the campus. Once we reached the fifth and last floor, she guided me down a hallway and knocked on the last door. Without waiting for a response, walked in, me in tow.
A man with black curly hair and dark skin sat behind a beautiful oak desk, his attention on the laptop in front him as he aggressively typed.
"Principal Greene, the new student is here."
"Of course, you can leave ." He dismissed her without stopping or even glancing in our direction. A bit rude if you asked me.
It wasn't until the door was shut and we were alone that Principal Greene stopped typing and looked at me.
"Isabella Swan, welcome to Forks Academy of the Arts." He offered me a small smile and gestured his hand towards the seats in front of him.
"Thank you, but please call me Bella." I corrected, sitting on the comfortable leather chair and smoothing my skirt.
"Okay Bella, I am Principal Greene. I always meet new students to really inform you of our school. Don't worry, I'll have you out of here before first period."
"Sounds good." In reality, I didn't want to be having this conversation at all and would have preferred to have just headed to class, but this didn't feel optional.
"Now I am going to be blunt, Forks Academy of the Arts is the best Arts school in the country. If you come here, you will leave with the ability to become the best in your field. You want to become a photographer?"
I wanted to shake my head no, but this didn't seem like the most appropriate time to confess about my predicament. So instead I nodded.
"Then you will walk out of here with the connections and ability to become the Dorthe Lange of your generation." He folded his hands on the desk and leaned forward. "Even though you are entering your junior year, you have more than enough time to nurture your talents."
The direct and non-sugar coating way he spoke seemed to be an intimidation tactic he probably used to scare incoming students regarding the school's difficulty. I would be lying if I didn't admit that it was a little effective.
"In regards to our school, we pride ourselves on our diversity, exclusivity, and success. Your peers are going to be the future poets, opera singers, and ballerinas of your time. We expect nothing less from you." Principal Greene looked at me expectantly, waiting for some indication that I understood.
"Yes, of course. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want the same thing." I replied, lying through my teeth.
"All right then. Welcome to Forks Academy and I hope you enjoy it here."
The words acted as a dismissal, and I nodded my head in goodbye. But before I could open the door, it swinged open.
In front of me a short, beautiful girl stood, leaning against the door frame. Her hair was jet black and short, cut into angular spikes. She wore red shiny leather plants, a white crop top with a band logo, and black booties. Her wide eyes were smeared with black eyeshadow that made her look like a model. One ear had black snake cuff while the other wore a silver dagger.
"Oh, I almost forgot." Principal Greene's voice snapped me back to reality, and I realized I must have been staring at the girl. "This is Alice Brandon, she's in your grade and will be acting as your tour today."
Waving us goodbye, Alice closed the door behind us and looked at me excitedly as we walked down the hallway.
"Hi I'm Alice," she introduced herself with a bright smile. "You must be Isabella Swan, right."
"Ya, but you can call me Bella." I could tell already that this girl was just a big ball of energy...yay.
"Okay, hi Bella! Are you from New York?"
And here comes the bombardment of questions that I knew I would dread.
"I'm from Los Angeles, I just moved here a few days ago."
"LA!" she exclaimed, her eyes going wide. "That's so fucking cool."
"I guess," I shrugged. "Are you from here?"
"Ya, I'm a born and raised New Yorker." I don't know how, but you could just tell that she was meant for this city. The mixture of her grunginess and impeccable style really screamed New York. "So, what are you studying?"
"Photography, you?" I replied quickly, trying to direct the conversation away from me.
"I'm a fashion designer." How fitting.
"That's so cool, I bet you make the most amazing clothes."
"It's alright," she brushed off. "Trust me when I say that by the end of the week you're going to realize how not-impressive that is compared to some of our other peers."
We walked out of the building, and Alice began pointing at several passing buildings, stating their names and what arts courses they held.
" told me your locker 78, which is conveniently right across from mine. It's in the main building which comes in handy when running late."
She led me to a long white wooden locker in the main building as she babbled away, talking a mile a minute. By the time we arrived, I found that I really enjoyed her presence. Her ability to talk nicely complimented my lack of interest in doing so.
As I began opening the locker and placing my camera bag in there, Alice turned the conversation back to me.
"So have you met anybody here besides myself?"
"No, unless Ms. Cope and Principal Greene count."
"Well from what I can tell," she began, taking a step back and looking me up and down. "You're pretty, well dressed, and nice. You can hang out with me and my friends, you'd fit right in."
Shocked, I looked at her with wide eyes. I've never met someone so… candid before.
Not noticing my expression, Alice hooked her arm into mine and began walking down the hallway. It wasn't until now that I noticed that the school was already filled with students, all who were looking and most likely talking about me. If the attention bothered Alice as much as it bothered me, she didn't show it.
"What's your first period class, so I can take you there."
"Oh, it's a class called Mysteries, whatever that means." This school was undoubtedly strange.
"Oh, that's the equivalent of an english class." she laughed. "You write mystery novels. You're lucky, I got stuck with Biography class which means I have to write about some boring nobody who did something cool a hundred years ago." I laughed at her comment and knew we would be good friends.
She led me towards a building she called Olympia. It was six stories high and built with terraces that held grass. Walking in, Alice ranted about her English class, all the way until we reached the third floor.
"You don't know how exhausting it is to have to try to make this german nobody seem a tad bit interesting. Like okay, you invented the contact lens, that's cool and all, but they have the same function as glasses so it was actually pointless."
I couldn't help but laugh at her ranting, a nice distraction from my nerves.
"Okay, this is it. I'll be here when you finish."
"Thanks so much Alice, honestly, I would have been lost without you." Although Principal Greene was intimidating, he was also thoughtful enough to supply a tour guide. And to make it even better, she was nicer than I could ever imagine.
"It's no problem, because of you I get to leave my classes fifteen minutes earlier," she winked. With a laugh and shake of my head, I entered the class.
It was large, and everything seemed to be made up of concrete and glass except for the student's desks and chairs. Even though I was right on time, all the students were already in their seats. I felt uncomfortable as they stared at me while I walked towards the teacher's desk. I forgot that no student was going to have as calming of a presence as Alice.
Looking up from the piles of papers laying on his concrete desk, he gave me a smile. "Ah, you must be Isabella Swan. I am ."
"I just go by Bella, but it's nice to meet you."
"You won't be saying that when I grade your papers," he joked. I forced a laugh as I realized that all the students are most likely eavesdropping on the conversation. "How about you introduce yourself to the class and give a few fun facts so they can get to know you."
Sighing in frustration, I nodded my hand and turned towards the class. I really hope I wouldn't be subjected to this in every class.
"Hello, I am Bella Swan. I was born and raised in Los Angeles, California, and I am here to study photography." That's all that they were getting from me. I really didn't want everyone to be talking about me today, and it's better not to add fuel to the fire.
pointed towards a seat in the back which I graciously took. Even as the teacher began his lecture on the format of mystery books, I could feel the eyes of the students on me. I could see groups of them whispering about me as I tried to ignore them and take notes.
I had a feeling that this was how it was going to be for a few days, and I couldn't have hated it more.
Lunch could not have come slower. The only relief I got from the constant stares and whisperings was when Alice walked me from class to class, but that was only because her conversation was distracting enough to take my attention away from my peers. However, not even she could have made me not notice the deafening silence which rang through the cafeteria as we walked in. All eyes were on us, and even as a whisper fell onto the large room, their eyes never left me.
"I'm sorry about them," Alice apologized. "It's just that we never receive new students. Everyone here has gone to school together for years, some even know each other since they were babies."
I nodded my head in understanding, but in reality, I knew it was not an excuse for how obvious they were being. It made me feel uncomfortable, and no amount of medication could help the increasing anxiety I have been experiencing over the past few hours. But I couldn't tell Alice all that, instead I stayed silent as we self-served ourselves food from the lunch line. I followed her lead as she walked towards a table in the center of the cafeteria. Perfect.
Taking a seat at the already occupied table, Alice turned to me and smiled. "Bella this is the friend group, friend group, meet Bella Swan."
With the introduction, I began carefully observing Alice's friends. There were three of them in total, two male and one female. The female -Rosalie she introduced herself as- was absolutely gorgeous. With long blond hair and perfect hourglass figure, she looked like a model from vogue. Maybe she was because her face seemed so… familiar.
The big, buff guy sitting next to her, who she said was Emmett, was at first intimidating. His large demeanor was hard to take in, but once you factored in his brown curly hair, goofy smile, and boyish dimples, he actually seemed pleasant.
The last person to acknowledge me was Jasper, who began his greeting with a "howdy". He had a southern accent, blond wavy hair, and his eyes hardly were taken off of Alice.
"So Bella, how are you liking Forks so far?" Rosalie asked, taking a bite of an apple.
"It's all right, really different from my old school," I shrugged.
"Where are you from?" Emmet joined in, obviously trying to make an effort to get to know me.
"LA."
"That's cool, but how are you still so pale if your from California?" He raised his eyebrows in question.
"Emmet!" Rosalie scolded. "You can't just ask shit like that, it's rude."
Laughing, I brushed it off. "It's alright, I don't mind. I just never favored tanning since I usually just burn."
"You're just like Edward," Alice remarked, scanning the cafeteria. "I don't know why he isn't at lunch with us, but he too can not tan."
"He's in the music room, he wanted to begin practice early," Jasper answered her.
For the most part, the conversation went well. I thoroughly enjoyed Alice's friends, especially when the attention was taken off me and they began telling me about themselves. As it turned out, Rosalie was a Ballerina, and when she told me, I realized why I recognized her. She came from the Hale family, internationally known hotel owners, making her an heiress. But it wasn't just her that was impressive, they all were recognizable, coming from well renowned families.
Emmett was an artist, dabbling in both painting and sculpting, and his dad was a McCarty meaning that Emmet came from a very powerful political family similar to the Kennedys. Although I didn't ask, I'm pretty sure it's his dad that is the current Governor of New York.
Jasper was a creative writer, focusing on short stories and historical fiction. The minute he said his last name, Whitlock, I knew who his mom was. His mom, Maria Whitlock, was a country singer and national treasure. Even I loved her, and I hate country music.
I hadn't figured out who Alice was related to until she mentioned fashion week for Brandon Co., and I realized that her mom was Lillian Brandon, the fashion designer. I was surprised I didn't put it together earlier when she told me her name and primary focus, but I was nonetheless impressed.
If they knew who I was and related to, which by the subtle looks I was given by Alice when Jasper was talking about his mom, they did, they didn't mention it. By the time lunch came to an end, I was actually a bit content, until I realized that I had to go to my next class, Photography.
Fuck.
XXX
Heyyy!
I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as I did writing it. I promise there will be a Edward introduction soon (probably next chapter).
I've been listening to Stacy's Mom by Fountains of Wayne on repeat. It's such an underated song, and I hope you like it.
Until next time,
-Bella xoxo