A/N: Hey lads! We're getting into the plot a little bit! The Beau chapters I'm pulling from the novel, and the Bella chapters I'm pulling from Midnight Sun and the PA Lassiter companion chapters. They're really good, I'd suggest giving them a read! With that, enjoy!
Angela Weber has bio with me, and thankfully, she agreed to walk with me. She smiles at me kindly, telling me that I could borrow her notes to catch up. Angela's not the only one I know in the class. Mike, an eager, friendly type of guy, sat at the back of the room.
I hand my slip to Mr. Banner, a bored looking man, who directs me to the only open seat in the classroom. The boy from earlier is there, the one with the reddish-brown hair. As I walk toward him, his expression shifts wildly, enough to throw me off-balance. I trip over someone's backpack, catching myself on our desk.
The boy, Edward, jerks back, covering his nose. I slip into the seat, unable to help the awful blush that rises to my cheeks. I'm a terribly easy blusher, going red any time I'm frustrated or embarrassed. Subtly, I drop my head to sniff my shirt. It smells fine enough to me.
Edward has a hard look on his face, vicious and rigid. I can't help but sneak glances at him, frustration building in me. I run my hands though hair, trying to see if it smells, but it's too short. I wonder what it is about me that Edward hates so intensely. Mr. Banner starts his lecture, so I try to focus my attention on him.
It occurs to me, halfway through class, that he must've seen my pride flag pin.
Anger rushes through me so hard and fast, my breathing goes shallow. How dare he? I fumed silently, not daring to let my expression change, even a little bit. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
At the end of class, Edward almost sprints out of class, faster than I've ever seen anyone move. I sit for a moment, fuming. Of course, I couldn't have expected that everyone in Forks be accepting, but I hadn't expected such a blatant display. I make my way out, mood plummeting. Mike Newton waits at the door, smiling brightly.
"Hey!" he says. I muster up a smile, walking with him. We've both got gym next period, and Mike agreed to walk with me at lunch.
"Hey," I echo.
"So, Cullen looked pretty pissed," he says. I shrug, not letting it play onto my face.
"The boy I sat with?" I ask. "Is he always like that?"
"Cullen's always been weird, dude, don't worry about it," Mike assures me. We walk into the boy's locker room, and immediately my hackles go up. The worst thing about Forks High School was that you're required to take gym all for years.
For someone with zero coordination and baby-giraffe limbs, it's pretty much hell on earth.
It's pretty antiquated, girls playing volleyball while the boys play basketball. My height deceives everyone, and they keep trying to pass me the ball. Mike steps in for me once he realizes I'm a horrible player.
My last class of the day is economics with Angela, and thankfully, it passes pretty quietly. After, she walks me to the main office, promising to wait for me. I walk in, slip in hand to find Edward Cullen in there, looming over the receptionist. Judging by her face, he's well on his way to charming the pants off her. I can't help but scowl.
"There must be another option, maybe independent study?" he says softly. As the door closes, however, he stiffens entirely. Mrs. Cope starts to respond, but he cuts her off smoothly. "Never mind then, I can see that's not an option. Thank you."
He rushes past me, a hard look on his handsome face. I'm stunned into silence, so I meekly hand my slip over to Mrs. Cope. She asks me how my day was, but I couldn't work up an answer. Instead, I smiled and shrugged. As promised, Angela stands outside the office, waiting. We walk out to the parking lot together, and she asks me how today was.
"It was fine," I say. "People were nice." Angela relaxes like she'd been anxious, beaming like I'd made her day. I can't help the rush of warmth I feel for her.
"Beau!" Bella Cullen's waves at me, hurrying over to my truck. "Hi! How'd the rest of day go?"
I hesitate, not wanting to seem rude. Still, she'd seemed nice enough, even if her brother wasn't.
"Hey, yeah, it was fine, thanks," I tell him.
"I'll text you notes, okay? Just let me know if you need any help," she says. "Bye!" With that, she runs off to one of the best cars in the lot, a huge, shiny jeep. Next to it is a beautiful Volvo. I don't know much about cars, but I know enough to admire a nice one when I see one. Phil's influence, I supposed.
The Volvo pulls out of the parking lot with a screech, moving much too fast for the parking lot. The jeep follows, slower this time. I scoff, tell Angela bye, then hop in my truck. I can't help but think of Edward Cullen and his vicious reaction. To my horror, tears spring up in my eyes. I sigh, swallowing them back.
I shake my head, thinking only of what I have to get done tonight. After dinner last night, Charlie agreed to let me do all the cooking, which is fine. It's not something I have to think very hard about, which is nice. It's soothing, in a way.
I drive to the nearest grocery store, which is just off the highway. In Forks though, pretty much everything is just off the highway. It's nice to be doing the shopping, something routine. It reminds me of home.
At home, I call Renee while I make dinner. It's a steak and potato night, which is something I could do in my sleep.
"How was the first day, baby?" she asks anxiously. She'd wanted to FaceTime, but I'm a horrible liar. The second she sees my face, she'll be convinced I hate it here and will demand I come back. Instead, I'd told her the Wi-Fi was bad and asked her to call.
"Fine" I tell her, wincing at my monosyllabic answer. "Pretty normal." That was four, at least.
"Are the kids nice? Are they giving you a hard time?" Clearly her anxiety hasn't waned.
"They're nice. I met some nice girls," I tell her.
"Any cute boys?" I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I get the food into the oven before answering.
"Forks isn't exactly—" Before I can finish, she interrupts.
"Oh, no, they're being homophobic! Baby, why don't you just come back? We could homeschool you and—" I stop listening, waiting for her to take a pause. When I told her, she'd cried. Not unhappy tears, mind you. She'd sobbed and said how proud she was that I was 'living my truth' and 'reclaiming my happiness.'
"Mom," I say soothingly when she pauses. "People are fine. I just meant I didn't think high school was a good time to have a boyfriend. I just moved, I'm not caught up, you know? I want to focus on school right now."
"You tell Charlie the second you run into trouble, do you understand me?" she says, clearly not listening. When she gets on a topic, she steamrolls over everyone else until she gets it out of her system. Call it endearing.
"Yes, mother," I intone. I can't help the exasperated little smile that rises up on my face.
"Okay, okay, I get it," she says with a laugh. "I'll let you go. Love you, sweetheart!"
"Love you too, mom," I tell her before hanging up. I finish up a salad for the rest of dinner and settle on the couch, opening my books and getting started on my homework. An hour later, Charlie comes home.
"How was your day?" he asks, hanging up his holster and stowing his gun in the same drawer he's always done in.
"Fine," I say. Charlie nods, satisfied with my answer. He's never minded my quietness. "What about you?"
Charlie sighs, rubbing his temples.
"Nothing much going on," he admits. "Little slow today."
"Sorry cowboy," I say. "All's quiet on the western front." Charlie scoffs, a wane smile pulling up the edges of his smile.
"You make dinner?" he asks.
"Yeah," I say. "Want to set the table, and I'll get dinner out." Charlie and I work quietly, side by side, setting up the table and laying everything out. I grab him a beer and pour myself a glass of iced tea.
Dinner's quiet, as I suspected, but it's a comforting sort of silence. Charlie helps me clean up after, then we both settle on the couch, a football game on. I finish up my homework then tell Charlie goodnight, heading upstairs.
I shower before bed, luxuriating under the warm water as long as I can. I refuse to think of Edward Cullen, but I can't help the way my mind flits back to his disgusted expression. Even later, when I'm warm under three blankets, I can't get him out of my head.
Frustrated, I pull my phone out, scrolling through my Instagram feed. I have a few follow requests, new classmates, though I don't know why they'd want to. I don't post often, just a few pictures here and there for a friend's birthday. Mindlessly, I accept each one, pausing only when I get to Bella Cullen's handle. Of course, her account is private, so I ask to follow.
I get approved instantly. Her account is full of cute pictures of her and her friends. I recognize Jessica, Angela, Mike, Eric, and Lauren from the pictures, as well as a few others. There are no pictures of her siblings or her parents, which strikes me as odd.
I fall asleep with that thought in mind, drifting off until Edward's face dissolves in my minds.
A/N: Alrighty! Let me know what you guys thought!