But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often thro' the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights,
And music, went to Camelot;
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two lovers lately wed;
"I am half-sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shallot.
Lady of Shallot, by Lord Alfred Tennyson
(Instrumental)
Intrigue by X-Ray Dog
I didn't see Alice or Mike again until Thursday, when I found out that I had another class with the latter. It was my classic Greek Lit course, and when I walked in I kept my eyes firmly on the ground until I'd defiantly stepped over the jutted threshold, lest it attempt to take me down again. At the same time, I had met two people by doing so, which made me a little quicker to forgive its past indiscretions and any future repeat performances.
I glanced up when I made it safely inside, unscathed, looking for a seat, as I had with all my classes this first week. I startled a little when I saw his familiar blond head sitting a few rows up from the door, still on the side of the classroom. Just like he sat in our Middle Ages class. At least I wasn't the only one fond of having a designated seating spot.
Like in Middle Ages, he already had somebody sitting next to him who he was chatting animatedly with like they'd known each other for a while, but it wasn't Eric this time (I had learned his name since we turned out to have a couple classes together.) It was a girl instead. She was pretty with nicely tanned skin, glasses, and dark curly hair pulled back into a neat pony tail. My heart dropped a bit. A pang of envy swept through me, and I wished I was in her place. Not so much for Mike specifically (although a little bit, because he was the only guy I'd met so far that I was still remotely considering sleeping with) but just to be able to be with somebody else so naturally, so comfortably, like they were being. Like friends.
The girl was fiddling with her pencil while they chatted and it ended up falling from her hands, tumbling to the floor. Mike bent down to pick it up quickly and handed it to her. Their fingertips brushed. I felt a vice grip my heart and I wondered where I should sit, tearing my eyes from the scene that caused me so much longing and pain.
But Mike noticed me then. This simultaneously made me happy and made me aggravated. I wanted to escape the picture they created. But I wanted to be near him, a person. "Bella!" he said cheerfully, waving me over. I guess I was too far away for him to feel uncomfortable.
My judgment and my desire fought, and my desire won. I made my way slowly up to him, trying not to trip on the steps. The girl next to him was looking at me curiously, but still in a friendly way. As I stopped near their desk Mike's smile faltered a little and the girl's expression morphed from curious to confused. I watched as they simultaneously shook their heads a bit and resisted the urge to sigh and slouch to the back of the room.
"Erm, Angela, this is Bella, the new girl I was telling you about," he told her and my heart jumped a bit. He talked about me? "Bella, this is Angela," he introduced, gesturing between us.
I smiled at her, trying to be friendly and comforting, attempting to dissuade whatever vibes they got from me that told them to cringe back. Her confused expression changed again into a friendly smile as well. She reached her hand past Mike, stretching to shake mine. I slowly approached her hand, and her smile became a bit strained as her hand visibly twitched, as if wanting to move away. My outstretched arm passed in front of Mike, and he leaned back a bit. There was a mixture of compulsion and shame on his face.
Finally though, I shook Angela's hand (gloves on, as always) and pulled my hand back quickly before the strained look on her face could worsen. It meant the world to me that she would shake my hand anyway.
Mike relaxed a little when I pulled my arm back, and his smile became cheerful again. "Care to sit behind me in here too?" he asked, smiling. "Or is that to much blond for you in one week?" He winked, tugging on his hair and I grinned shyly back. "I'd invite you to sit next to me, but that position's already covered." He gestured to Angela.
Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh! I can move if you want," she said reassuringly. "I honestly don't mind, I didn't think - "
"Oh no, that's okay," I rushed to say. "I think I'd rather get blond overload from behind."
They stared at me, and I realized how that could have been interpreted. My face flushed so red it could have been a new skin color. That's what I get for trying to interact. "Um," I stammered. "I didn't - that came out wrong…"
"Ya' think?" Mike snorted. But somehow, they were both grinning, and then laughing heartily. I knew they were laughing at me, but it still didn't seem like they were doing it in a cruel or condescending way. It seemed like the way…I'd seen friends laugh with each other. I smiled back embarrassedly, and somehow not minding so much anymore. My face still flamed red though.
"I'm just gonna…sit down," I mumbled to them, and they nodded, still smiling. I took my seat behind them and Angela turned, grinning at me before turning back around.
I took out the course guide I'd printed offline, and got out my notebook and pencil, getting ready for the professor.
When she arrived, she began the way every other teacher had this week. Explaining the rules, regulations, course work, expectations; the whole shebang. I copied everything down neatly and meticulously, tabling each category. I was so focused on what she was saying and making sure I copied it down correctly that it took me a few moments for me to notice the folded up paper sitting on the edge of my desk. Curious, I unfolded it, scanning its contents. The handwriting was messy and chicken-scratchy. It was obviously male, and obviously came from the male in front of me, who was looking at me over his shoulder every so often. Waiting for a response.
Hey, what classes do you have tomorrow? he asked. We might get lucky again.
I smiled and wrote back, I only have one in the morning. Psych. You?
I leaned forward and tapped his shoulder with the piece of paper. A slight tremor went down his back but it didn't show on his face when he turned eagerly to get the paper.
He hunched over it, scribbling a response. Angela glanced over curiously and Mike, finished writing, handed it to her too. She looked surprised that he did. She read over it then quickly wrote something down, holding it up to Mike with a questioning look on her face. He nodded, and she smiled, setting it down and writing something else before folding it up again and placing it on my desk. I took it as slowly as I could, trying to appear as if I wasn't dying to read the contents. No one had ever written notes to me before.
Underneath my response was Mike's answer to what class he had tomorrow. He wrote, No luck. I have my Economics class. Do you want to eat lunch with me later?
Below that was loopy, feminine handwriting, no doubt the sentence Angela had showed to Mike. It asked, Are you including me in this? I thought that was a pretty valid question since he had handed it to her. That must've been where he nodded. She continued. I actually have Psych with you tomorrow Bella. She drew a smiley face. And I think it'd be cool if we all ate lunch together. I haven't met a bunch of new people yet.
I was surprised at the human vulnerability in this response. Ever since I had started becoming secluded, I had gotten this warped idea that everybody was…confident and had plenty of friends and never had problems with social interaction. Her statement quickly rearranged my confused perception, brought on by my clouded, lonely eyes. I smiled softly and wrote back, Yeah me too. Lunch has been the worst. I've been eating in my dorm.
I folded it up and handed the paper to Mike, whose hand was already outstretched for it.
He read through our conversation since he'd last seen it and responded. She handed it to Angela; she did the same thing. Then it was back to me.
Mike had written, Woah Bella, majorly depressing. It's okay you two, Newton is here to save the day!
Angela had written, I wouldn't be too comforted by that Bella, because the only time I've ever seen him be a hero was when he wore his underwear on the outside of his Superman pajamas one day in kindergarten. I snorted, giggling.
Mike furrowed his brow and hurriedly turned to snatch the paper away from me, gripping the edge so his fingers never got near mine. He read through the note hurriedly before a furious blush covered his pale face. Both Angela and I were laughing as he tore the paper into tiny little shreds, no doubt destroying the evidence. It didn't matter. I would always remember this. Though for different reasons, curious enough, than the image of Mike with his underwear on the outside of his pajamas.
When lunchtime came, it was with great trepidation that I entered the student eating hall on campus. I had ventured in once before, just to check it out, but was too chicken to actually eat here.
This would be the first time I did. And I was extremely nervous. What if Mike and Angela bailed? Angela and I had had our Psych class earlier, but that left a couple hours until we were supposed to meet up for lunch. So I went back to my dorm to sit and wait. I had come here alone. What if it was a cruel ruse? What if I didn't find them or they didn't find me? Or worse, forgot about me? My fears grew, deepened, and expanded to outrageous, horrific fantasies with every step I took inside. I was practically breaking out in a sweat by the time I shakily took a tray in my hands, and started to serve myself in the buffet-styled eatery. My stomach was full of butterflies. I got a slice of pizza, which I knew I probably wouldn't choke down, a little bit salad, which was looking like too much chewing, and a cup of water, which I might be able to sip from as I sat alone in a corner somewhere before I just threw my stuff away and left, going to cry in my dorm.
My fears were erratic and, as it turned out, unnecessary. While I was filling up my water, Angela appeared at the soda fountain machine, smiling. She stood a foot away, but she seemed like a magical being, all…real and real Angela-goodness. I could've cried from relief but tried to keep my face composed.
"Hello again," she smiled nicely. "Mike's on the other side, filling his plate up. He told me to find you and grab a seat. Where do you want to? Sit, I mean?"
"Oh…uh, I don't care. Your pick," I said, beaming.
Shrugging, she led the way over to a window seat behind us, setting her tray down neatly. I followed, sitting on the other side. It was one of those four-seaters, with two chairs a piece on each side of the table.
"What did you think about Psych?" Angela asked conversationally, stabbing her macaroni and bringing it to her mouth.
I contemplated briefly. "I think it's going to be really interesting. We haven't actually learned that much in our classes yet, so I hope next week will be more exciting."
"I know, but wow!" she groaned. "I already have so much homework and we haven't done anything."
"Maybe because we haven't done anything," I pointed out thoughtfully.
"Or maybe because it's college," Mike joked as sat down next to Angela. It didn't surprise me that I was left on the one-person side of things, and I didn't think about it too much. "God I'm starving," he groaned, digging into lasagna with gusto. He sat up and raised his head back, so he could talk with his mouth full. "Thish shweek ha' wiped me ou'."
Angela wrinkled her nose at him. "Ew Mike, chew with your mouth closed." I was glad she said it; I was grateful to have people to sit with - I didn't want to ruin it by being too abrasive. I wasn't sure we were to that stage yet.
He swallowed noisily. "Sorry," he said bashfully. "My mom's not here to tell me when to be in bed by anymore. I think the surge of freedom has released my rebellious streak."
I snorted. I couldn't help myself. "Talking with your mouth full is your rebellious streak? Oh wow, you beast you," I noted sarcastically.
I expected forced smiles, but what I got were genuine laughs from both the people across from me. "He's pretty white, it's true," she grinned, spooning more pasta in her mouth.
Mike turned to look at her, frowning. "Speaking of which, how do you get your skin to stay so tan? There's no freaking sun! I've tried tanning here, and trust me, it never works out."
Her mouth pulled down at the corner unhappily. "I've told you this a thousand times. My dad's white, but my mom is Hispanic. That's why my skin is darker."
"Would explain it," he muttered. "I vaguely remember you telling me this."
"Only a hundred times," she mumbled, eating with more furious vigor.
I watched in rapture and amazement at the interaction unfold. I didn't normally get an up-close view.
But they said no more, and we ate in companionable silence. My stomach was perfectly fine as I ate my pizza, salad, and drank my water, all with a tiny, peaceful smile on my face. I couldn't even remember the last time I had felt like this and didn't care to. I was okay with just being right here, right now, living it.
When we were done eating we sat and talked for a little while. I was so content and rooted so deep in habit that for the most part, I just sat back and watched Mike and Angela talk. I was perfectly fine with that. On occasion, one of them would ask me a direct question so I had to reinsert myself into the chat, but other than that I reveled in the feeling of companionship and belonging I felt to be sitting here, almost normal.
At some point, we got up to go dump our trays in the revolving conveyor belt and headed out into the cool afternoon air, the sky thick with clouds as per usual. It was hard to believe it was only early afternoon.
I walked in silence on the left hand side of the sidewalk leading back to the dorms - where the other two were headed as well - and they walked on the right, a little bit behind me. I crossed my arms habitually over my chest, my gloves and sweater keeping me safe from the chill air.
I looked up and felt a jolt of surprise as I recognized a figure walking on the grass, heading toward the sidewalk between two buildings. Right as she was about to disappear I felt an impulsive urge and followed it. "Alice!" I called.
I heard the other two fall silent behind me and Alice paused, before she turned. I smiled and waved. Even from this distance, I could see her answering smile, and she waved back before disappearing from sight between the buildings.
When I turned to look at the two behind me, Mike was shaking his head and even Angela was looking a bit concerned.
"I don't see a problem in getting to know her," I said defensively to Mike.
He held his hands up. "It's your choice," he responded, just as defensive. "You just know my feelings on it. I don't understand why you'd want to though. Maybe you just haven't seen her being a head case yet." I frowned deeply at him. "I'm not saying that to be mean Bella. She's just seriously freaky."
I turned to Angela. "Do you know her too?" I was certain she must, if she and Mike went to high school together, as they obviously had.
Angela frowned thoughtfully. "Yes, I do. And while I do think Mike is just obnoxious about it," she elbowed him in the side, "I also think he has a bit of a point. You don't know what it was like Bella. It was weird. She was perfectly happy and smiling all the time I'd known her. She looked so cheerful, not a care in the world. And then just one random day she turns up to school with these huge gash marks on her neck and when we ask what happened, she tells us that she tried to kill herself. What's scarier about it…" she continued, her frown deepening, "Is that she still looked cheerful. Then of course, she didn't turn up the day after and one of our teachers told us that her parents were withdrawing her for a year to go get some help. Of course, we all knew what that meant."
She shook her head sadly, troubled. "And then when she got back she was just stranger than ever. I didn't know what to make of it. I still don't know what to make of Alice Brandon."
I turned back around, my head teeming. Alice didn't look crazy to me. Could these things really be true? I was positive there was more to the story. Well, I was positive anyone would know there was more to the story. I would probably never know though and I didn't care. Until something happened to make me consider otherwise, I wasn't going to stop trying to know Alice Brandon.
The weekend passed quickly. I didn't see anybody during it, but that was mostly because I had plenty of homework to finish up and revise. I considered driving down to Forks to visit my dad, assure him that my first week had been fine, but college was a lot of work so far. I'd started most of it during the week, and had a lot of it done, but I wanted to recheck, rewrite and reread a lot of the things so I could stay on top. I didn't want to begin the year as bottom of the class, or create a bad impression on my professors.
So I called him instead on Sunday night. I waited patiently as the phone rang, absent-mindedly pick at a stray thread in my comforter, before my father finally picked up.
"Hello?" he asked in his normal dry voice.
"Hey Dad," I greeted, smiling. I was happier to hear him than I would've thought I'd be. I guess in all the wild and unexpected changes that had occurred in the past week, it was nice to hear from someone who had always been a constant to me.
"Bella!" There was a clear note of relief in his voice. "How are you? Has everything been going alright? Any problems?"
I shook my head in affectionate incredulity. "Yeah. Actually it's gone a lot better than I expected. I met three new people already. Everyone here is pretty nice."
"Glad to hear it."
"Coincidentally, all three of them used to live in Forks. I don't know if you knew them, but their names are Mike Newton, Angela Weber, and Alice Brandon?"
Charlie was silent for a moment or two. "I remember them," he said gruffly. "Mike's parents own the sporting goods store here." That sounded right. I vaguely remembered an image of sporting goods store we had driven by but never went in. "And Angela's parents are nice people. Alice Brandon…yeah, I know of her." His voice was gruff again. Tense.
"And?" I prodded, eyebrows furrowing. I'd never even thought of Charlie as a source of information before, but now that I thought about it, it was downright obvious.
"I never really interacted with her or her parents. All I know is that strange rumors follow that girl. I'd be careful Bella."
I rolled my eyes. Not him too. "So I've been told," I muttered.
"Maybe for good reason Bella, have you ever thought of that?" I stayed silent, stubborn. "Well anyway. Have you talked to your mother yet?"
I went back to fiddling with the thread on my bedspread again. "Yeah. She called earlier in the week."
"Was she freaking out?" he guessed shrewdly.
"She did place some less-than-subtle hints that I should go back to Florida." And some less-than-subtle hints about doubts of my sanity. "But she'll deal I guess."
"Yeah." There was an awkward pause between us, as we tried to figure out what to say. Charlie and I were better together when we were silent - that's what we preferred. Talking on the phone was always so tense because it required conversation we weren't skilled at giving. "You are alright, aren't you?" he finally asked. "I don't have to come arrest anyone? That Newton kid. He's behaving?"
"Dad," I groaned. "C'mon. You know guys don't like me."
I could practically see Charlie shifting uncomfortably. "Come on now Bells, you know that's not true," he mumbled gruffly. I sighed. Yes I do, and so do you Charlie. You don't want to touch me and you love me. What do you expect anybody else to do?
There was another long, awkward pause. "Well…I should get some sleep," I said at last. "And so should you. I might come down next weekend. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, yeah of course," he reassured me. "Come down whenever you want Bells. Sleep well."
"You too. …Bye." I waited for him to say bye as well before I hung up, placing my phone back on the bedside table and falling onto my back. I stared at the cracks in my dorm's ceiling.
That Newton kid. He's behaving?
Yeah, I wish.
Sighing, I rolled over to turn my lamp off before slumping into my pillows, trying to shut my brain off and find a purchase on sleep.
When the morning dawned dark and grey, I rolled myself out of bed before the alarm clock even went off, as usual. I started my mini coffee machine and yawned my way into the shower, cleaning myself quickly and stepping out onto the bath towel, trying to keep the tile from getting wet. I know it's silly, the tile is there to be gotten wet, but I can't help it. If I can't control other people's actions, at the very least I can control my own.
Walking into my Middle Ages class, I was excited to see Mike again, and maybe even talk to Eric this time too. Maybe he didn't notice we had several classes together, but I did, and that presented the perfect conversation opportunity for me. I meticulously planned what I would say as I walked in and took my seat, early enough so that most people weren't even here yet.
Taking out my books, notebook, and pencil, I quickly found myself with nothing to do. I started tapping my pencil rhythmically on the desk, trying to seem less pathetic than I felt. With nothing else to do, I started examining the room around me.
It was spacious, two people desks lined up on each tier of the stadium-styled room. There were pictures and posters scattered all around the walls, and my head slowly started twisting to look at them. I eventually had to turn in my seat to look at the back of the room.
But my gazing was interrupted when a pair of eyes caught mine. I startled, surprised that somebody was watching me. I met the guy's eyes without meaning to, and was even more surprised when he didn't look away. And definitely distracted by how serious he was looking, with his mouth set and his brow furrowed. I was stunned into immobility.
He was attractive, no doubt about that. He had messy reddish-brown hair that looked like bed-head. But it didn't look gelled. It looked natural. He had pale skin, and sharp, masculine angles in his face. I don't even know what his body looked like. I couldn't look away from his gaze where he held me, captivated.
I felt an impulse to move closer, but I repressed it. Somewhere in the back of my mind, some part of me was keeping perspective. How weird would that be? Walking all the way to the back just to say what? Hi? Noticed you were looking at me, wondered what was up?
He hadn't been in here last week, I was sure of it. I would've remembered him without a doubt. But it wasn't so unusual. Many students missed the first week.
His expression was slowly morphing from serious and dark, to confused, and then to amazed. My brow furrowed as I watched his expressions' transgression.
'What?' I mouthed.
He slumped back in his seat, breaking our eye contact, and I finally noticed his body. Surprise, surprise. That was nice too.
There was a tingling in my entire body. My chest felt doused with heated water and my skin prickled. It wasn't unpleasant. It was…mesmerizing. I'd never felt like this before. Never felt this noticed. Never felt this seen. That guy, that stranger, had been lookingat me, when everybody else's eyes chose not to linger. But it was more than that. I felt like he'd really been seeing me. This should've worried me. Concerned me. Frightened me. But I was too relieved, too excited, too dumbfounded to feel anything else except this pleasant tingling all over my body. More than ever before, I wanted fiercely to be touched in this moment.
But that wasn't going to happen. I sat back and clenched my gloved hands on the desktop. Tears of frustration pricked the corners of my eyes. The tingling subsided to give way to the crushing hopelessness. I slowly peeled off one glove just so I could rest my hand gently against the side of my face, closing my eyes and imagining that the skin of my hand was somebody else's. I knew it wasn't. But I just wanted to pretend for a second.
I squeezed my eyes shut and wondered what was happening. How could this stranger have elicited such a response from me? All he'd been doing was staring. With an intensity that lit me on fire, and a brooding that concerned me. I glanced over my shoulder and he was watching me again, the perplexity and brooding mixing strangely in his face. I turned back around and slipped my glove back on before I could get trapped in his gaze again. People were starting to arrive anyway. This was no time to be emotional and distracted.
Mike and Eric walked in together, talking. Mike saw me and waved. Shaking off the last five minutes and trying to ignore the eyes on my back, I waved to him, and smiled a little shyly at Eric too. "Hi," I murmured.
Eric grinned tightly. It didn't touch his eyes. "Hi." Then he was sitting down, facing away and not looking back. I sighed softly. I knew things had been going too well.
Mike grimaced at his friend and just shook his head. "How was your weekend?" he asked, sitting in his chair straddle-style so he was facing me, his arms crossed over the top of it. A good two feet of space was still between us, but I shook the estimation out of my head. Why did I torture myself by doing that? Noticing how he still kept a distance, even though we could probably be called friends? I was being ungrateful.
"Filled with homework. You?" I asked, casting aside my internal struggle for the moment.
He smiled. "Much of the same. Don't we live such riveting, exciting lives?"
"Indeed," I murmured, aware of the stare on my back more than ever.
I was distracted all during class. I wanted to talk to him. And surely, with all his staring, he wanted to talk to me too? I was trying to make friends, wasn't I? But I hadn't felt this nervous about doing it this entire time, and I had felt plenty nervous. Taking a deep breath, I convinced myself the entire class period that I should try to talk to him. Figure out who he was, at the very least.
I considered asking Mike, but he was really focused on the teacher, trying to keep up.
When class was over, I packed my bag slowly, figuring that should put me at the back of the line heading to the door, where the Staring Guy would no doubt be, since he was in the back of the room. But just as I put my first book away I looked up, and was shocked to see he was already walking out the door, quickly squeezing past another student that backed up to give him space, and heading off.
"Bella…Earth to Bella!" I snapped out of my shock and closed my mouth, which I realized had been hanging open, and turned to look at Mike. He was looking puzzled. "I asked if you wanted to walk to your next class together?
"Oh…er, yeah, of course," I mumbled, distracted.
He waited while I got the rest of my stuff together, and we headed out.
And just like last Monday, Alice was walking by. Except she wasn't rushing this time, and she didn't trip over my stuff. But the biggest similarity that shocked me was that she talked to me again.
"Hey Bella," she said cheerfully, stopping in front of me. I saw Mike scowling in my peripheral vision. "I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with me today?"
"Oh." I hesitated, unsure. Mike, Angela, and I hadn't made plans to eat together today, but maybe it was an unspoken thing? I didn't want them to feel like I was blowing them off. At the same time, I really wanted to get to know Alice. "Yeah, sure."
"Great!" she beamed, clapping. She pranced past me and to my complete and utter surprise, patted me on the shoulder. I gasped and thought I heard her laughing quietly behind me as she continued on her way.
"I thought you were eating with us?" Mike demanded as soon she was out of earshot.
"We never actually made plans," I reminded him. "Besides, why don't you guys just come sit with me and her?"
"Yeah, no thanks," he snorted. "Eat with us tomorrow then?"
"Absolutely," I agreed. And even though I was only being tugged between two people, I liked this feeling. The feeling of being sought, after so long being scorned.
And as we walked on, my mind returned to that strange, severe, copper-haired man. I wondered when I would see him again.
Review please! Your reviews make me smile =] I'm glad everyone is enjoying this so far.
- The Romanticidal Edwardian
