You ain't gotta let the world get to you
Why you lookin' in the mirror like that? (Like that)
Won't you turn around and shake a little somethin'
You're the best they ever had
Chloe x Halle – ROYL
As I walk away from the door, I feel a weight fall onto my shoulders. My chest feels constricted and I have the urge to fall into my bed and sleep for a minimum of five years.
What the hell was that? How the hell did Bella get a hold of Twilight? Why the hell don't things ever go as planned for me here?
Maybe coming back was a mistake? A stupid, stupid mistake.
"Who was that?" I jump at the voice behind me. Paul is seated on the leather loveseat with the bowl of coco puffs I prepared for him laying in his hands.
"Sweet Jesus, I forgot about you." I exhale heavily, placing my hand on my chest to settle my racing pulse.
He snorts while shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. "That's one way to stroke a guy's ego."
"What did Bella want?" He asks with his mouth full of coco puffs.
"I thought you didn't know who was at the door." I ask half-heartedly, with his advanced hearing he probably heard that Bella was at the door before I even saw her.
He pauses in his tracks then shrugs noncommittedly. "Lucky guess."
Crap, he wasn't listening in, was he?
"Did you hear what we were talking about?" I ask, gnawing on the inside of my cheeks roughly.
Please say no, please say no.
"Nope. The tv drowned everything out." He munches on another spoonful of cereal while his full attention is divided solely on whatever is playing on the TV.
I let out a breath I wasn't even aware I was holding. I don't think I'd be able to handle another confrontation in the span of 24 hours.
"What are you watching?" I ask with a tight-lipped smile which is meant to look light-hearted.
"It's a One Tree Hill marathon." He tells me without moving his gaze away from the TV
I don't try to mask my confusion. "One tree what?"
"One Tree Hill. It's like one of the biggest shows on TV right now… So I've heard." He added in the last part tentatively.
"I'm not a big fan of tv."
"Well, you're missing out."
It really doesn't look like I'm missing out on much, the set out looks like every white teen drama on the CW, but I keep that to myself, Paul is obviously a fan and I don't want to offend him, especially after all that he did for me last night.
"I'm going to take a shower, you'll still be here when I get out, right?"
I'm not quite ready to be by myself right now, a little bit of company would be nice.
"Yeah." He says, smiling fondly at the two teenagers on the television screen kissing in the rain. "I'll be here."
Although the water pressure in the shower feels amazing, I don't take too long in the bathroom, I do however take longer than I usually do to dress up. Like my old house the wardrobe already has an array of clothes inside of it, the difference is everything inside of this one is designer and probably costs more than my high school education.
It takes me forever to find the least flashy and most comfortable outfit; a two-piece, dark blue Baby Phat tracksuit and some furry Ugg boots. I feel like the girl T-pain describes on the hook to 'Low', and to be completely honest; I don't hate it.
I refrain myself from doing a Crip walk in front of the closet mirror and spend some time to separate my hair into two space buns.
I walk back down to the living room not really paying attention to my surroundings. Surprise surprise: my thoughts have drifted back to Edward.
I wonder what he's doing right now. Is he thinking about me? Is he with her? I bet they're laughing about how pathetic I am, coming back for him and he's already moved on. God, why am I so stupid?
I'm so lost in my own thoughts I don't notice Paul clearing his throat and looking at me expectantly.
Oops, had he asked me something?
"What was that?" I ask with a lazy smile, leaning onto the stairway banister for support
"Are you okay? I called your name almost 5 times, you were, like, staring into space."
Well that must've been fucking awkward.
My ears heat up in mortification. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired." I exhale heavily, "It's been a weird couple of weeks."
He looks at me understandingly and his eyes soften in sympathy.
"I could leave if you want? Or maybe you wanna, uhm." He awkwardly clears his throat. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asks me almost painfully.
I almost crack a smile at his obvious ineptness at comforting. "Nah, I'd rather watch some White Tree Hill with you."
"One Tree Hill." He corrects me patiently.
I snort when I see the predominantly white faces displayed on the tv screen.
"White seems about right." I push myself away from the banister to walk closer to the tv and plop myself down on the other end of the loveseat.
"So, what's going on now?"
"I don't really follow the show," he replies shiftily, his russet skin slightly flushing.
"But uh-Lucas Scott," he points to the tall blonde actor I'm sure I've seen in over a dozen teen romance movies. "he's Nathan's half-brother." he points to a brown-haired actor who looks less familiar. "They're fighting because of Peyton, the blonde cheerleader. Her and Nathan used to date, and now her and Lucas are a thing, but last night Lucas saw Nathan and Peyton making out"
"Doesn't seem cliché at all."
"It's not." He sits up quickly in defence. "There's drama, and comedy, plot twists in almost every episode, and a pretty killer theme song." He's sitting on the edge of the couch now, looking pretty fired up about a show he doesn't really follow.
Still, despite his very passionate pitch I'm not convinced
My eyes drift to the clock hanging on the wall above the TV. 10:56 am, that means Moesha is about to start.
"Moesha has all of that too, plus it stars Brandy. If we're lucky we'll catch an episode without that demon, Ray Jay."
I reach for the remote, but Paul gets to it first and grips it to his chest protectively.
"Uh- One more episode? I'm not invested in it or anything," He chuckles nervously. "I just need to find out who set Dan's shop on fire with him still in it."
That is the textbook definition of invested.
I smile coyly to myself. "Alrighty, one more episode. Moesha will be done by then, but we can still catch two back-to-back episodes of One on One. Oh, and Half-and-Half's on after that."
So I have the UPN schedule memorised, sue me
It doesn't take long for me to get reeled into the fictional lives of Lucas and Nathan Scott and all the residents of Tree Hill. The multiple pregnancy scares, car accidents and heart attacks really help to pull me out of my funk, and I gain some respite from my toxic thoughts.
Before I know it, hours have gone by and Paul and I have sat through almost ten episodes of the show and have created our own fan theories and predictions
It's in the middle of an intense scene that Paul visibly straightens. I turn to look at him and see his forehead creased, his thick brows almost touch by how close they are pulled together.
He looks up to meet my stare and I notice that his eyes have hardened, and lids have fallen into a lazy squint, like he just received some very inconvenient news. "I've got to go."
"What? But Lucas is about to confess his undying love to Brooke. I can feel it."
"Please, we both know Lucas and Peyton are endgame." He says jovially, using the term I just taught him.
"Besides. Jake texted. I've gotta meet with him and… do some homework."
It's obvious by the way Paul avoids eye contact that he's lying. Not to mention I hadn't seen him so much as glance at his phone once in the few hours we've been on the couch.
It must be pack related, and I know better than to ask about it.
Either way I'm reluctant to see him go, and I am totally Not looking forward to being in this big ass house alone. And from the not-so-subtle pout on my face, I'm sure he can see that.
"The new season starts on Wednesday night. Why don't I come over then and we can watch it together? Does that sound good?"
I pull my finger to my chin and pretend to think about it.
"Uh. Is Dan Scott the devil incarnate, that's only gotten so far in life because of white privilege and his mediocre bone structure?"
"So yes?" He says slowly, almost unsurely.
"Hell yes!" I grin and raise my hand for a high five.
It takes a few moments, but he reluctantly reciprocates the gesture and I beam at him stupidly.
"You have a lot of pent up anger over a tv character, may I suggest therapy?" He says to me with faux concern. His dark brows arching comically.
I wave away his comments. "The only therapy I need is watching everything Dan Scott loves and cares about being ripped away from him until all he is left with is shame and regret."
"You are so weird."
"See you Wednesday." I beam back at him.
He nods his salute with an equally wide smile and turns to jog out of the door hastily.
The door rattles shut, and the room is filled with an almost deafening silence from Paul's absence.
"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" I say out loud, falling back onto the couch and crossing my hands over my chest sullenly.
I need to keep my mind off all the shit that transpired in the last 24 hours that's for sure. I'd be damned if I were to waste any more tears on it.
So, I turn the tv back on and snuggle deeper into the blanket I had wrapped myself in and prepare to numb my mind with whatever dumb teenage antics Lucas has involved himself in this time.
20 minutes later I promptly turn the tv off in annoyance. Somehow watching the melodramatic teens is not as entertaining without Paul's side commentary.
Besides- now I'm hungry.
I am not foolish enough to recreate the sad excuse of a meal I tried to make for Paul earlier, but my stomach rumbles for more substance than a bowl of cereal.
What would really hit right now is chicken wings. Hmmm and a big juicy steak.
Too bad I don't know this area well enough to walk to any of the local eateries and walking to Forks would probably take me hours so I might as well cross that off the list.
Unless…
My eyesight shifts outside the window to the large black SUV parked on the lawn.
Driving there would be faster, and it would be such a waste to leave such a nice car out to collect dust. Sure, I may not have my driver's license but that doesn't mean I can't drive… It just means I can't drive very well.
No. No Amiyah, you will get arrested, or even worse: crash and die. Are you willing to risk all of that to sate your hunger?
Unfortunately, the voice of reason in my head is ignored and I jump off the couch to begin looking for the car keys Elliot handed me yesterday.