Welcome to High School.
Where you will be judged on your appearance.
Where you won't be able to talk to any of your friends.
Where you should be worrying about schoolwork, but aren't.
-By Anonymous.
Chapter 1:
The day of unlucky
The world just hates me, I know it.
Not in a manner that it constantly bombs down on me in the most infuriating rate, but rather at the most inconvenient times. The school is just a ten minute away and I am wearing a simple hoodie with a T-shirt underneath, jeans and sneakers that are all in all not suitable for wet weather. I get it that Forks is a place where it nearly constantly rains, but not every single day should be like that.
The first cold drop lands on top of my head and I bite down on my lower lip. No, nope! Don't you dare sky! Another comes down on the tip of my nose and more and more soon join it. It starts downright pouring and I start running, like my life depends on it. My first class is supposed to be mathematics and I couldn't definitely stand calculating while being soaked to the bone.
By the time I am running up the stairs of the school with few others who also forgot to bring along more waterproof equipment, the liquid in my shoes and socks could literally form a pool. My dirty blond bangs are sticking to my face as I push them off and straighten up, only to see a familiar blond girl walking towards me with her whole dry glory.
Please, let her walk away. Biting down on my tongue, I am about to walk past her when green eyes turn to me while cringing on the sides.
"Forgot your umbrella?" She asks sweetly, her painted lips stretched into a what could be a sympathetic smile.
I know better though and don't say anything. Instead, I do my best to ignore the streams of irritation waffling out of me from the sound of that nasal voice and continue forward with brisk steps. If I give her any attention, she will no doubt start bragging of it on her profile page.
"You look like a drowned rat, paint girl," Lauren says quite loudly, and I hold back a flinch.
People snicker – everyone in the hallway heard what she said – and I just have to lower my face and pull the wet hood over my head like it could make me invisible to the looks I receive from anyone in the hallway. Of course, I regret this as soon as drops from the heavy and wet fabric on top of my skull start to drip down my head and back. Whatever did I ever do to her? That popular girl seems to just enjoy making others miserable, but I feel like I am the sore thumb out of every other person whenever she confronts me. It is annoying, and I can't do anything to make her stop.
But, I am also partially blamed that this is all happening to me. This teasing and bullying. All because of what happened before the summer break. Despite the fact that I am already embarrassed enough by Lauren's comment, my face heats up more from the horrendous memory. I had splattered red paint all over one of the Cullen kids – the forbidden group of "untouchables". Cold sweat comes down my body when recalling the scene. Maybe teachers are capable of pushing away the blundering of students, but they have no idea how the minds of high school students work. I have been branded as a 'paint girl' and there is no way to wipe it off.
Just my luck.
By the time I have made it to the classroom, the seats are occupied. Nobody pays any attention as I sneak to my space in the back, luckily. Not everyone is like that snobby Lauren, thankfully.
The math teacher soon waltzes in with his usual bored expression. I don't blame him. We all look half-dead zombies first thing in the morning.
"Alright, put your books away. We will start with a quiz."
My face falls even more, and I want to just cover my entire face with my wet sleeves. Today is just not my morning.
I haven't even done the homework we were given last time.
When the lunch approaches, my mood has lightened up a bit. My clothes aren't as soaked, and I can stroll across the place with the almost-dry-hoodie tied around my waist. After the math – that horrible quiz nearly killed me – the next ones went well, and I was able to pass my time idly. On the plus side, I haven't even seen Lauren or anyone else from the popular group who could have had a chance to harass me further.
However, now that I have to eat to survive the rest of the day, I am feeling that familiar clenching in my gut. This is one of the times that nearly everyone from the school gathers into the cafeteria. And every time I fear the moment someone will either try tripping me or throw a banana peel at me. The latter has happened once, but luckily not since. The fears are probably mostly in my head, though.
Whatever I nearly throw my hands up in the air. I have survived this far. This will be just another day. I will go in there, grab some food and then march back to get my books from my locker. Easy.
I turn around a corner and freeze. The whole place is jam-packed and nearly every table is full. Which means, I would either have to sit into a full table or eat outside where it is still raining heavily. This will be an easy but at the same time a difficult choice. I choose to continue walking in, suddenly wishing that I still had the hood over my head. I can see the table occupied by the popular kids and pray that they are too occupied. Lauren's back is to me, so that is one danger out of the way for now.
I accidentally almost dropped a fork when I stepped into the line. My hands are getting sweaty and I dare to slightly glance up. There is some unknown girl in front of me and waiting for her turn to fill her plate. It is enough for me to know that she is occupied and then glance quickly behind me. Another girl is there, looking off to the sides. That is also enough for me. It tells that I am indistinguishable. Deep breaths, everything is going fine. Just… breathe.
The weight of the food isn't that great, but I fear it might fall from my hands. That would certainly create a wonderful scene.
In the middle of dreading it, I spot a free table on the side and mentally cheer. It is just in a perfect angle away from the popular kids' table and it can be all mine. Not wanting to seem too eager, I walk as calmly as possible towards the white square shaped table.
When I sit down next to the window, the tension leaves my shoulders and I let out a quiet sigh. The food looks good for once. I take a bite of the chicken, the dry meat drying my tongue. Nah. Same as always.
As I am chewing, the chair on the other side of my small table is dragged back and a pale girl sits down. Her small features intensify how large her golden eyes seem.
"Hi!"
Somehow, my teeth bite down on both the chicken and my tongue. I jump – from two different reasons – and quickly cover my mouth. My eyes are not naturally large, but they sure are now as I try not to choke down on the chicken.
The smile that shows rows and rows of pure white teeth dims and thin eyebrows knit together in concern. "Oh my. Are you alright?"
"Y-yes," I cough out and quickly wash the food down with water. My heart hammers against my ribcage, as I seem to be unable to tear my eyes off the pixie-like girl whose smile returns from my brightness of her teeth is startling, but so is her sudden appearance and it makes my stomach flip. This is the last person that I have ever wanted to make a contact with, especially in a cafeteria where everyone else can see us. I don't dare to check how many have already noticed, though.
Alice Cullen, the smallest and the most peculiar of the Cullens. She is now so close that I can see every individual piece of her spiky hair sticking to every direction. Still, that doesn't change the fact that she is as beautiful as any other Cullen. That white skin is stark against the dark colors of her locks and outfit. Her eyes don't even blink, as she seems to almost peer into my soul.
I feel self-conscious, horrified and start to wish that the ceiling would come crashing down. The silence between us stretches, but I am starting to notice how some tables near sound to be calming down like they are starting to watch and notice this peculiar scene. I am not exactly blaming them. Alice just… came to sit down with me without hesitation.
"C-can I help you or something?" I ask, lamely, biting down on my tongue soon after.
"Oh, yes!" She reaches out with her hand, fingers perfectly manicured. "I am Alice Cullen. Remember me from the last semester?"
Don't remind me! I wish to disappear and can't bring myself to reach out to her outstretched hand. Instead, I start wondering, if she is being serious, right now. Does she think that I could ever forget what happened? And why is she bringing this up right here and now? My face is starting to burn from memories rushing back and cold sweat trails down my spine.
My lower lip has dropped, though, obviously showing my disbelief. I soon shut my mouth with a 'click' from my upper and lower teeth colliding.
"R-right," I stammer out, finally.
This, however, seems to be enough for Alice, as she pulls her hand back without any indication of being offended. "You are Beatrix Stone, right? You share a class with my brother, Edward Cullen."
I can't almost breathe and steal a glance around us, which is the wrong choice.
People are staring, whispering and pointing towards me and the short haired girl like in a zoo. I am starting to tremble and inhale shakily, appetite totally lost. I turn back to Alice, but even looking at her is making the entire cafeteria seem smaller.
"Yes?" I breathe out confusedly, clearly remembering the other Cullen in my biology class. The one who doesn't talk unless asked something by the teacher.
Her grin seems to widen. "I saw you just sitting here alone. Thought you might need some company. Can I call you Trixie?"
I stare at her, her words coming in from one ear and out of another. "What?"
She chuckles a little. "I asked if I could call you Trixie?"
…What? My mind is blank, and my expression must be showing it. However, I soon frown tentatively and start playing with the tied-up sleeve of the hoodie around my waist. The fabric feels somewhat comforting but does not wash away the anxiety or suffocation building up inside my chest.
"W-why?" I ask, tongue stumbling and tangling. I raise my hands, though, ready to grab the tray, rise up and walk away.
"I thought it might be cute."
I bite down on my lower lip and look at her again. The smile hasn't left from her face and it isn't unfriendly. Honestly, she seems so genuine, but my mouth is suddenly drier than that chicken I swallowed. The chattering in the room is louder and causing me a headache.
I shake my head. "Whatever," and stand up.
"So, that is a 'yes'?" Alice asks eagerly and also stands up.
The chattering doesn't cease, and my stomach keeps on flipping around the place. Without really knowing how to handle the frustration, I look at her with an emotion close to anger – irritation. Are you dense? Can't you see that people are looking? I nearly want to ask those things but can't. She is so much smaller than me in build and size. She has smiled at me, but I can't seem to muster any positive emotion from that. Just why are you talking to me? Are you here to pay back for what I did to your brother?
There are such large questions that I could ask now.
The latter makes my fingers dig into the tray and I walk briskly away, dumping the food into the nearest trash and then out of the cafeteria. All the while feeling gazes weighting heavily on my back I keep my gaze harshly on the ground and the exit out of this place. Although, there is a restricting thought playing in my head; no doubt Lauren and her leech squad will eventually bother me about this. The thought makes my insides freeze into ice.
By the time I am far away from any person and stand in the most deserted place in the school at this lunchtime, my heart hasn't stopped hammering and my hands are just as sweaty. It is like I have run a marathon. I lean against a cool wall and look up at the ceiling. How many hours are there before my last class, again?
I have never been so happy or grateful that I have almost always taken the seats at the back. Even now, I am in a corner, watching everyone else's backs. The last class is English, poetry to be specific. It has been nice so far. The teacher is nice, the class is mostly filled with decent people. Mostly.
The only thing that I am not that happy of is because one of the popular kids is sitting on the other backseat and is every now and then glancing at me. Jessica Stanley; not as bad as her friend Lauren, but pretty close. Somehow, I have got this feeling whenever I see her face that she thinks to be superior to others, well mostly. Assuming things is not a very good way to judge – I have never been really good at it – but just her normal expression, whenever she looks at someone who isn't popular, makes it seem obvious.
Biting down on my lower lip, I turn my head and lock eyes with her. She blinks and looks away almost immediately. I frown and also look away. If she wants to glare or make fun of it, she can go right ahead. This is the last class and I will be out of the building soon anyway. Ten minutes from now on, to be exact.
"Alright, hand over your drafts. It doesn't matter if they are finished or not," the teacher calls out and starts collecting the papers.
I lean back, pretty happy that I have managed to finish mine on time. Wiping away the pieces of rubber from the paper, I hold it out to Mrs. Brantley who takes it without a second glance. When she returns to the front of the class the students have started whispering to each other. They snicker and makes small gestures and I hear some asking others to hang out later.
"Settle down. The class isn't over, yet," Mrs. Brantley calls out and places the stack of papers down to her desk. "I will be checking your poems and return my opinion in the next lesson. However, I want all of you to think about the theme you choose for your actual poem by the end of this week. Remember, your final work has to be based on another poem's style. Start discussing it with your partner."
Funnily, I am sitting alone. So, while every other student is busy chattering their plans or just generally telling some rumor they heard, I look down at my notebook and open it. Truthfully, I have not really thought of what I am going to write about. I will just figure it out at home.
Even before the bell rings, the students have begun to pack their stuff away and are obviously enthusiastic to get out. Although, I am not ashamed to admit that I am the same. A minute before that piercing sound rings, I have all my stuff inside my bag and am ready to stand up.
The ringing starts and chairs are drawn back. I stand up and take my bag, heading out of the class together with the other students.
"Miss Stone," the calling of my last name makes me freeze near the door. The others pass me by, shooting glances back at me. "Please, stay for a while. I have something I need to talk with you."
Puzzled, if not a little worried, I slowly turn around. Mrs. Brantley is sitting and looking through the small poems we returned. At least, she is holding one of them and squinting down at it through her thin framed glasses. What did I do this time?
Hesitantly, I walk over to her and stop just in front of her desk. "Yes, Mrs. Bratley?"
"Can you explain what this is?" She asks and looks at me while holding out a paper. I open my mouth to answer, but she beats me to it and starts reading the paper herself. "'I cut through the flesh and bone, as the soul of the body is gone. The blood and the gore, what a bore. She is truly rotten to the core. Is it such a surprise?'"
My face flushes for the thousand times the color of red and my body stiffens. Those who are still at the doorway chortle and laugh. When I glance towards them, I see Jessica among those few and quickly look away, ashamed to make a move. Sweat gathers to my palms.
Truthfully, when I wrote that, it didn't seem like such a bad idea. The day has been bad enough for me and I needed to take my frustration out on something. It is solely based on Lauren, but maybe I should have added a few others to the list. This is now so embarrassing, though. My fingers start playing with my sleeves and I look down at the ground. At first, I thought that Mrs. Brantley was a nice teacher, but my opinion on her has changed. The way she just read my poem out loud makes my skin crawl. Why is she doing this to me?
She doesn't even glance at the other students. "Now, I do not want to limit my student's creativity. But I must admit that your poem is somewhat… frontward."
Another row of chortles. I feel like the teacher is backing me into a corner and clench my hands.
"Miss Stone, in the future, you must remember what an appropriate way is to use poetry as the way to convey your emotions," she explains like from a textbook. She seems to be pretty proud of it, too. "That is why I want to see improvement in your next work and not this kind of gravity. Am I understood?"
My throat feels tight, I want to protest, but end up swallowing thickly. There is no use on wallowing up on this any longer, we already have an audience and I don't plan on making myself a further laughingstock like I already have.
I end up nodding stiffly. "Yes, Mrs. Brantley."
We leave it at that and I walk out of the class, finally. The weight of the world feels like it is crashing down on me when I accidentally look at the people who heard everything. They are still amused, and my face burns once again. I wish that they would just stop. They have already made my life miserable enough.
"That sure was dark, paint girl," Jessica snorts, causing others to join her.
Again, that nickname. Something hot bubbles in my gut, but it's outweighed by the heat on my face.
I fail to see what in her comment was funny. It was probably just to despise me further, but I try to ignore the annoyance bubbling in my gut. She hasn't insulted me in all this time and suddenly she has. And suddenly, even a teacher has gone against me. Could it all be because Alice spoke with me today? The thought makes me clench my hands and I quicken my pace. What does our talk have to do with anyone else but ourselves? If this bullying is the result of jealousy or some other nonsense, I might as well quit going to school with such immature people. Well, I am immature, too, but I wouldn't get riled up because of something like that. This place is small enough. People will get bored easily and gossip about useless subjects. And sometimes it is a curse.
Everybody knows almost everybody around here. Rumors spread quickly; the story of my blunder was a basic knowledge of school by the end of that day.
The stairs I take are filled with people who push and rush down, all heading towards the same direction. I feel further irritated when I can't move fast enough. The stench of perfume and sweat is giving me a headache. Because of a certain 'incident' at the cafeteria, I couldn't have a proper meal and now I am starving. My stomach churns from the image of food that appears in my head.
I wonder if I have food left back at the house.
Someone bumps into me, but I don't pay attention to it. Leaving the school building is like playing American football without a protective helmet. And when I make it outside the ground is soaked with puddles and small streams pool down at the sides of the road. I am happy that at least the weather is now in my favor.
"Trixie!"
It would be quite amusing if I were to now fall down like in cartoons. But I don't. Instead, I am completely aware of who has called me, that they are approaching and that I need to get away. I start walking faster, hands holding tightly to my bag's straps and avoiding the puddles in my way.
Just ignore her. She will go away as soon as you are out of the parking lot.
"Trixie, wait up! Ugh! Jasper, come on!"
My heart hammers and a shudder makes goosebumps appear on my skin beneath the hoodie. A small voice in the back of my head is telling me to continue walking – to even run like my life depends on it. And yet, I glance over my shoulder to see two figures heading to my direction, easily keeping up with my pace, despite the fact that a small framed girl wrapped in a comfortable looking white jacket is dragging a taller male with her. He looks reluctant to follow but lets the girl pull him along nonetheless. And I recognize that blond hair anywhere. It has been my menace of a reminder of what transpired months ago.
I want to start running, but my eyes lock with Alice's and she grins and waves at me. I silently curse myself for giving her an opportunity to do so but decide to stop nevertheless. It would be stupid to stop here and now after making eye contact. Also, I admit feeling bad for leaving the smaller girl in the cafeteria so absurdly. I should have probably handled it better.
She stops together with the boy she is still holding onto and I purposely avoid looking at him. I give my full attention to Alice, despite wanting to just sink into a puddle. "Yes?"
"I finally caught up with you!" She grins and then pulls the boy closer. "I wanted to introduce the two of you so when I saw you earlier I decided to drag Jasper along. You remember him, right?"
If not for the said boy whom I publicly humiliated last semester standing so close, I would give his sister the 'look'. I have not eaten, but it is like bile could rise from my mouth at any given minute. I just know without looking that people have noticed our small group in the middle of a parking lot. Calm, stay calm. Just figure out what she really wants and leave.
Instead of saying anything, I hum softly in agreement and look to the side. "Was there something else you-"
Alice cuts me off and looks at her adopted brother and boyfriend. "Jasper! You also remember Trixie, right?"
I could literally turn around now and leave, but my feet stay firmly on the ground. I want this to be over, I really do. But what if Alice doesn't get to say everything she wants now and tries to pester me tomorrow, as well? I wouldn't be able to handle that, and I bite down on my lower lip in silence. Does she hold a grudge or something?
After a somewhat long pause, a neutral: "Yes," comes out of the blond boy and I nearly jump out of my skin. I can't help but hear the strain and tightness in his tone and immediately shrink back slightly. I pray that my movement isn't visible to the two Cullens.
"How was your day?" Alice suddenly asks.
My tongue is tied up in knots for a second. "Um, good? How… was yours?"
"It was great! Our art class was great."
The muscles in my shoulders tighten and I stop breathing for a second. "Is that so?"
"Yes! My artwork got praised quite a bit. The new teacher is so nice," she says and then shifts her weight from one leg to another. It is nearly impossible not to have eye contact with her without turning my head away. She is so short, and my eyes naturally fall on hers.
"Right," I say lamely, softly and then look to the side. I should have taken my wristwatch this morning, so I could at least pretend to look at the time. Will I seem rude and obvious, if I say I am in a hurry?
"Alice," surprisingly, it is Jasper who speaks next, "we should be going. You promised to help with dinner tonight."
The golden-eyed girl merely smiles and looks at him. "Don't worry. I want to chat with Trixie for a while, so you can go with the others and I will take the other car.
Rich people, my mood turns sourer. I can't even begin the count of how many times I have felt jealous of the cars the Cullens have. I don't have a license, so I can't drive, but that doesn't mean that I won't be envious.
But that's not what's making me extremely uncomfortable, now. Knowing that Alice is willing to let her family leave because she wants to 'chat' with me raises a lot of alarm bells. The Cullens never make any contact with the other students. And if they do, it is very brief and very unnoticeable. They talk to teachers and such, but that is the furthest social contact that they make and those are the only contacts I have seen them make as long as I have been here. They are anti-social, like to keep to themselves no matter where they go and what they do and as far as anyone else can see, the couples in this adoptive structured family never leave each other's side. And yet, here is one Cullen breaking that. She has come to speak with me once without her family and now she has even dragged Jasper along. The one whose shirt I sabotaged the first time we met.
I feel like a cornered animal for the second time from a different reason. Information is being processed inside my brain rather quickly and I come up with a quick escape plan. I pray that this will go much more smoothly than my plan for the poem I wrote earlier.
"Sorry, Alice," I start, much more confidently than before gaining her attention. "I have to go home. I promised my dad to come straight after school and I think he is getting worried. It was… nice talking to you. Bye!"
I whirl around and start walking again. Thankfully, the pixie-like girl doesn't call after or seem to try and follow me, which is an extreme relief on my part. Even if they noticed the haste and enthusiasm in my tone just now, it doesn't pretty much matter. I am now free of the two of them and walk rapidly down the road. This was fairly easy escape if I could say so. But, I know that pretty much half of the school saw what happened and no doubt I will be pestered tomorrow again by the popular kids.
My life is bitter.
The door closes after me heavily, as I step into the warmth of the house. "I am home."
Of course, nobody is there to answer, and I feel a slight drop in my empty stomach. The lights are not on and I am left standing in the empty and dark hallway. For a moment, I imagine if there truly was someone in this building and they would soon come down from either upstairs or from some other room at this floor – I wish somebody would answer to my call.
But when the silence continues, and I continue standing still like an idiot, I let out a tired sigh and kick off my shoes. They fall somewhere, and I make my way to the kitchen. It is clean, spotless and mostly unusable. And when I walk to the fridge and open it, there is only a bottle of ketchup in it. The sight is depressing.
My stomach lets out a growl and I place a hand on top of it. I let out yet another heavy sigh. Nothing, great. I take out my phone and throw my bag on the table, looking through my contact information, fuming. He better read this text before coming home. I rarely text, so writing a simple message goes pretty slowly.
'We need more food', is what I finally send and then let the phone drop next to the bag.
I still need to eat, though, and check all the dry food in the cabins. As expected, I only find a can of pea soup and that is it. My shoulders drop in disappointment, but my hunger is greater and makes me grab it. This has basically been filling my food supply for the entire two weeks and a half.
After looking down at it for a few seconds, I take my phone out again and text: 'No more pea soup. Bring meat, bread, vegetables, fruits etc. I mean it. I don't want to see another metal can in the house.'
I start cooking if you can call it that. Although, I can't stop my mouth watering from the smell of warm food. In the end, instant food is a decent choice. At least, it is something and I won't go hungry. Though, perhaps I should bring my own lunches from now on instead of relying on school's the entire time. Then, I could avoid the 'trouble'.
It has started raining again when I sit down with a plate and start eating. I watch through the window at the outside world, noting how little life it has. The house I live in stands further apart from others. There is a small forest blocking a view from the rest and behind this house is a larger forest where anyone could get lost. In my opinion, it is a perfect place for crime to take place. It may not be too far away from neighbors, but the small woods around it provide perfect curtains and coverups. A chilling fact and it sometimes has made me question the safety that I feel in here. Though, I doubt that almost anyone knows that there is a house here, one that is occupied.
Suddenly, the front door opens, and I nearly drop the spoon in my hands. The thoughts on a crime scene make me think the worst, but when I look towards the door leading out of the kitchen, I relax slightly. There, barely in the kitchen, stands a man in dark clothes. It would be a terrifying sight if I didn't know who it is.
"Welcome back… You are early," I say quietly.
He looks at me and then walks calmly to the table. A plastic bag is placed down next to my school bag and he speaks in what is a very soft voice: "Here is the food. Say if you need anything else and I can go buy it."
Slowly, I lower my spoon, forget my almost finished dinner and reach out for the bag. In it, there is pretty much everything I requested in my message. I nod, a bit happy for some strange reason. "Yeah, no need to worry. This is enough for a week."
When I look at him, he doesn't give any reaction before turning away. The dirty blond hair is barely peeking from underneath the dark hat that he pretty much wears all day. It's this very sight which makes my throat tighten for a mere second. And when he actually starts to walk away, I bite my lower lip. Seeing him planning on retreating into his own room just like that is…
"Are you hungry?" I ask, even though I know the answer he is going to be giving me.
Silas pauses at the door and turns slightly to look at me over his shoulder. "I ate at work before, so I am not."
"Oh," is the only thing I manage to say, hoping that my disappointment isn't visible. "Then, tomorrow, do you want breakf – "
"No, I am good," he says, cutting me off and then walks away.
I stare after him again, listening to the silent noises of the house. Once again, I am alone. And despite knowing that there is someone else here with me, the walls separating us, and the stretching silence is thick and almost unbearable. Somehow, when I stop breathing and concentrate, there is a faint sound of door opening and closing. He went into his room, probably to catch some sleep.
Another moment of silence passes through the house and it comes to the point that I could as well be a statue just standing in the middle of it. Finally, though, I sit back down and continue eating. Why do I even try anymore? The food is still warm, but I shiver and adjust the hoodie to stay warmer. There is no other sound echoing in the house anymore, other than my shuffling in the kitchen.
I stare and stare some more, but that does not make the image I am seeing any better nor does it disappear. Instead, it continues staying there and my lower jaw drops. A bad hobby, it appears on my face whether I want it to or not. And just like my baffled, bewildered, flabbergasted expression, the school news appears without my consent as well. Something snaps in me and my hands clench around the thin papers.
I am aware that the space I am currently in is a library and that I shouldn't shout, but that is exactly what I wish to do right now. There is a picture of me with Alice on the front page. It was obviously taken when she sat down in front of me yesterday at the lunch hour. My mouth in it is hanging stupidly open and my back is hunched over.
Now, today is sunny so obviously, she and her whole family are out hiking. But that is exactly why I thought that I could be momentarily safe. Apparently, the universe is against me because my sense of security is always shattered at the most unexpected times and when I least want them to mangle my life.
'Alice Cullen, one member of the school's most mysterious and privileged siblings' group, unexpectedly sat down with another student, Beatrix Stone, at lunch hour. Reasons for this new and peculiar development from one of the Cullens is unknown, but this is not the first time Miss Stone has had an encounter with a sibling from this shadowy family. During the end of the last semester, she splashed red paint all over another Cullen, Jasper Hale, Alice Cullen's adoptive brother/boyfriend. The pixie girl was present at the time of the incident and was even mentioned in the news article.'
Even if I haven't read half of the article, my blood is boiling towards anyone who took a picture and wrote this for the entire school to see. It happened in a cafeteria, for crying out loud. Over half of the school's students were present so why does it need to be printed permanently on paper? I get it that we don't have that many exciting things happening at school – there is pretty much nothing interesting in this newspaper, to begin with – but my story and encounters with Cullens can't be that entertaining… Who am I kidding? Of course, it is. I just wish that it wasn't me. I continue reading and my emotions boil the longer I do. Every sentence is like adding up the heat on a stove.
'The encounter is shrouded in rumors. One of which says that Miss Stone will be adopted to the Cullen family. Another suggests that Alice Cullen has a secret of homosexuality that she has hidden from her family for years.'
I bite down on my lower lip harshly, face heating up. At least they admit them to be mere rumors.
'The cafeteria happenstance wasn't the last one. The next time Miss Stone made contact with Miss Cullen was later in the middle of the parking lot during the same day. With her, she had brought Jasper Hale, and the three had a brief conversation, until…'
I have had enough. This newspaper has nothing else but rumors and gossips filling it anyway.
My hands twist and crush the page, then I throw the whole thing into nearby garbage. It hits the bottom, but I do not feel satisfaction. Instead, I wish to find whoever had written this story when they did and then call them all sorts of names that I can muster in my state.
I run my hands through my hair and then lean back against the chair. I try to calm down and count silently to ten. When that doesn't help I try to focus on reading my history book. Naturally, when I finish a chapter I don't even remember what the topic book closes, and I push it into my bag with frustration. Whatever handouts there are below the thick book, they are crushed by its weight.
Shaking my head in exasperation I stand up and walk to the bookshelf, determinate to get my mind cleared with literature… Not that I even know what I am looking for.
Suddenly, a book's cover fills my vision.
"Try Wilfred Owen," a voice like bells chimes next to me.
I stiffen and turn slightly, not surprised to meet golden-brown eyes. Still, I remain in the frozen state, glancing between Alice and the book she is holding as if she is some sort of alien. I have no idea what she is planning or thinking by suddenly appearing like this, but I do look down at the object she is holding a second longer. Alice goddamn Cullen is giving me book advice?
"…Thanks," is what I end up saying, lamely.
Pearl white teeth flash and the petite girl hands me the book. "No problem."
There are many questions flashing in my mind, but one stands out the most – what on earth is she doing in the public library? This isn't our school, this is our free time. In all the time I have been coming to this place, not once have any of the school's mysterious siblings come waltzing into this place, more or else into any public place in the entire town. I should know, I visit this library quite often. Also, what kind of person just appears holding out a book to someone like this? It's like something out of a drama show.
Feeling awkward, I flip some of the book's pages and to my surprise actually stop at some points. And as if it's meant to further surprise me, I actually like what I am reading. Slowly, I realize that I have been frowning and that the muscles on my face start relaxing the further I read. They are poems and I look through more than one.
However, I am snapped back, when I remember that Alice is still standing silently in front of me. She is still smiling and is looking at me with wide expecting eyes, waiting for a comment on the book choice. Clearing my throat awkwardly, I close the book and give her a short nod.
"This… seems like a good book," I say, but mentally kick myself for making it sound so weird. My throat tightens and I hold the hard-covered object closer. "Thanks, but… why?"
She lets out a short laugh and shakes her head with a bit of confusion. "Why not? You were having trouble picking a book, from what I could see. Plus, you like writing poems, right?"
The last statement sends me back a bit and I frown. "What?"
"Well, you have written few yourself on the school's newspaper a year or a half ago," the pixie-like girl explains and smiles. "I liked them."
Suddenly, I am experiencing a flashback, as heat spreads across my face. It's the same emotions from earlier this week – embarrassment with a hint of shame. My mouth opens and closes, and I have to lower my eyes to the ground. Alice chuckles lightly from my reaction, but she probably doesn't know how much worse that's making me feel. The information streams into my head and the cogs start finally moving. I do remember writing something for the school at one point, but only now do I recall that time and feel massive shame wash over me.
Those small poems weren't much, and they were also too cheesy for my taste, like something from a thirteen-year old's diary. But to think Alice Cullen has read them and is now bringing it up… I can't process all of this and end up biting down on my tongue. I shift my weight on my legs, unsure how to react anymore to the shocks this girl keeps on firing at me.
In the end, I give her another nod and look to the side. "I see."
"You must like writing poems quite a lot," Alice says, and I glance up at her to see her still smiling at me.
I frown for the second time and turn around to walk back to the table. "No, not really."
"Oh?" The dark-haired girl sounds almost disappointed, but soon follows me and takes a seat next to mine. "How come? You should continue writing them in the newspaper."
Unintentionally, as I turn the pages on the book, there is a faint rip. The edge where the page is sewed into the book has now a small, barely damaging rip. I flush but continue turning pages, pretending to read some of the text while emotionally squirming. Just mentioning that pile of papers makes me remember the one piece I threw away just earlier.
The last thing I need is to write on that devils' paper where everyone can fish out my name. Even the thought staying anonymous sends my gut twitching. I look at Alice to meet her innocently twinkling eyes but am momentarily startled by her almost glowing skin tone. She is now in close proximity, but I can't spot a single flaw on her skin, just like back at school. And like back there, her clothes are once again neat and what I can only say as fashionable. Self-consciously – this girl makes me feel this way more than anyone should in one lifetime – I adjust my posture and wipe some lip balm I could have over the edge of my lips and try to ignore how my fingers brush close to my acne scars.
"Maybe," I say and then look back down at the book. If I pretend to be busy with something else, she might go away.
"Are you free this weekend?" She asks straight after.
My entire body nearly slumps in obvious exasperation and disappointment from truly thinking that she was done. This time, I need to think carefully about what I would be saying because I do not like the way the pale girl has made her question sound.
"No, unfortunately, I am not," I say, but feel dull guilt after. It's a lie what's coming through my teeth. Of course, I have nothing to do at weekends. I pretty much never have unless exams are coming up. Usually, I just sit on my chair and watch cartoons from my laptop.
However, my answer is not enough to sway Alice. She leans the weight of her head against her palm with a thoughtful expression. "Then, what about the next weekend?"
"…No, busy," I shake my head, sweating from nervousness.
I do not understand why she is so insistent on getting into my personal space or even talking to me. Rather, I am praying that she didn't track me down here to merely strike a conversation like this. Despite knowing how rude or stupid this is, I pray that the short girl will get the hint already. Although, to this point she hasn't, even in school the Cullen girl had been completely obvious to my discomfort.
"Then, how about we hang out sometime after school?" She suggests easily with another happy smile.
Calm. Stay calm.
A quiet exhale leaves through my nose and I lean back against my chair, a bit lost what I should do. "Hang out? The two of us?"
"Yes. Who else?" Alice nods, a smile growing once again as I turn to look at her.
A lump forms in my throat from the memory in the school today. After the final bell had rung, this same girl had dragged one of her siblings along – that should be an immediate answer to her question. And it's also what I fret over the most.
Maybe Jasper is the reason why Alice is so insistent on getting closer to me after all? I was the one who embarrassed him, to begin with. This must be how she will coax me into trusting her and then get her revenge on me for it at the moment I least expect anything. My stomach drops from that idea, though, and I shift in my seat, completely forgetting the book full of poems and dropping my hands to my side. Even if that isn't really the case, this is still weird and peculiar behavior from one of the Cullens. Not to mention, I am starting to think again how the rest of the school would react. Judging by how everyone reacted after the literature class, that is.
Despite thinking these things, I still ask: "Where exactly would we be going?"
My question must be what Alice has been looking forward to because now her smile could split her entire face in half. "How about we go down to Port Angeles?"
"No," I immediately tense up and shake my head, thinking just how long it takes to get there by car. An hour-long drive and I can't even drive to begin with. "Sorry, but that's just too far away."
For the second time, there is a look of disappointment on the dark-haired girl's face, but then she brightens up again. "Then, how about I will come and hang around in your house? My house will have guests, so going there isn't really an option."
I pause for what feels like the hundredth time and turn around so that my knees are facing her. The look on her face is once again expecting and a bit hopeful and I have to inhale deeply to calm down. I have only talked to her a day, now, and she is already asking if she can come over? Why is she so desperate all of sudden? Rather, I do not want to share with this girl where I live. I can come up with couple images how that could go down at a later date.
Alice did suggest shopping at first – which is not my forte or anything I would do regularly, if possible. So, switching to my place is quite an activity change. The worst part being that there would be nothing to do and the two of us would spend the entire time in an awkward atmosphere or silence. But… what if even after saying 'no' she will still insist on a meeting? I couldn't possibly come up excuses forever.
"I… I don't know. I will have to ask my dad," I finally blurt out. "But what could we possibly do at my place?"
Alice claps her hands, looking positively radiant. "We could…"
When she pauses, I give her a chance to think for a while. But when I hear nothing from her for more than what feels like ten seconds, I purse my lips and stare at her in uncomfortable silence. She is staring also, but not at me. Her eyes seem to gaze at nothing as her body leans slowly back against the chair. The golden-brown irises do not move, but twitch now and then, almost as if seeing that I don't. To confirm this, I turn to look where she is but manage to only see dusty shelves and the wall behind them.
"Alice?" I call out and turn to look at her, again. When she doesn't answer, I frown and raise my voice a bit. "Hello? Everything alright?"
It must have worked, because she slowly drags her eyes to me, mouth half-open. "Yes?"
"We could," I gesture with my hand for her to continue, "do what in my house?"
"Oh, yes!" She smiles again and scoots closer. "How about a movie night? Your pick and we will watch it."
A momentary emotion of annoyance washes over me, but I smother it, actually thinking about what we could watch for a moment. I open my mouth as soon as an idea pops into my head but close my lips almost a second after and look to the side. What we could watch… a movie… I purse my lips, crossing my arms in deep thoughts.
"I… I don't know. I don't have any at home," I say, feeling a bit silly for feeling slight shame from the confession. Of course, I am lying again.
"Well, then," Alice continues smiling and faces me with determination in her eyes, "I can bring something over. What kind do you like?"
I actually smile a bit from this. "As long as it isn't horror, I am fine with anything."
"Great! Then, when can I come over?" The dark-haired girl asks, cheeks pulling up with the lightly colored lips.
The uncomfortableness is back, and I avert my gaze from hers. Now, that we have come to this part in the conversation, I actually start experiencing uneasiness – since when was the last time, I invited anyone over to my place?
"As I said, I need to ask my dad permission first. I will tell you… maybe tomorrow or a day after?" I swallow thickly, getting more uncomfortable by just sitting there. "I am not sure if he is around during that time, but I will let you know as soon as I get the answer."
Alice raises both of her thumbs. "Awesome. I will see you tomorrow at school. Bye, now, Trixie!"
And just like that, she practically skips across the hall and behind the bookshelves – the energetic Cullen vanishes completely out of my sight almost in a second. I didn't take note of one thing before, but the end of her shirt is long and ruffled this time and it's the last thing I see before I am completely left alone between the books. I am dumbfounded and frozen on the chair I am sitting on, though, and I stare for a while at the spot where she had been on. It's now empty, but our conversation is replayed over and over again in my head like a recorder.
She had literally just left, after getting my answer... Is this what she was after this whole time? My theory of her actually tracking me down here grows more and more believable and I bite down on my lower lip, gut clenching. She is definitely a peculiar girl, but I am not sure whether that's a good or a bad thing. Who am I kidding – just to what did I agree to!?
Anxiety grows and spreads across my body which grows stiffer by the second. A momentary thought of lying makes me feel a bit of hope, but that isn't an option. Rather, it would only make me feel bothered and rob me of some little peace in life I have left. Forget about the fact that I would need to tidy up the place if my dad says 'yes'.
My biggest concern is what will become of me if the entire school finds out of this meeting. Thousands of scenarios of bullying from real-life events to TV shows flash in my mind and I let out a low groan.
I shake my head helplessly and start gathering my stuff, suddenly wishing to be back at home.
Everything is going to be okay, is what I think and pray.