Chapter 5

Hysteria

Yeah I'm endlessly
caving in
and turning inside out

Hysteria- Muse

Paul walked me to my next class, which was Art. I shuddered thinking of the impossible, arty things that I would be asked to do. I would have to do them or risk failing a class. Sure, I may not be Albert Einstein, but I did care about whether or not I got good grades.

"Hey, you'll be fine," Paul said comfortingly, reading the worry in my eyes.

I sighed. "One can only hope," I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, turning my head slightly to look up at Paul. "Thanks Paul. I'll see you,"

Only one corner of his mouth pulled up. "Later," he paused. "Princess." He took off down the hall. I glared at his retreated back. He was always so close to getting on my good side and then he went did something idiotic. What a jerk-face.

I walked into the art room getting hit in the face with the smells I couldn't place. The room was quite big with several large tables pushed together in the middle. The room was cluttered, but not messy. Artwork hung all over the walls along with band posters. Several kids were already getting started, pulling out canvases and supplies.

"Can I help you," Asked whom I assumed was the teacher. He was wearing a red, knit sweater and had on a pair of rimless glasses that made his young face look smart, instead of nerdy.

"I'm Cate. I'm new," This was starting to get old. Realization flickered across the teacher's face.

"Oh, right. They told me about you," He seemed hopeful for some reason.

"Listen," I started, holding up a hand. "I shouldn't be in here. First off, I'm a sophomore. I shouldn't even be in here. Second, I haven't taken an art class since middle school. Lastly, I'm not a artist, not in the sense you use it. I'm a dancer. I guess they stuck me in here, thinking I was just gifted in all forms of art." I took a breath, feeling a bit better after my rant. The poor teacher looked amused .

"Oh, well. That shouldn't be a problem." He smiled and put a hand on my shoulder, steering me towards a seat next to a red headed boy. "You don't have to be an acclaimed artist to make art. Just follow your imagination." He placed a piece of gray paper and a piece of charcoal in front of me. "Do whatever you feel like," He left me with a smile and then hurried to the other side of the room to help another student.

"Right," I muttered, setting my bag on the ground. I grabbed the charcoal and stared at the blank page, trying to think of what to do. Didn't art have to send a message of some sort? I sighed in frustration.

"Just draw whatever you feel," The red headed boy piped up beside me. I glanced over at him. His red hair flopped into his brown eyes. He was paler than me but seemed very tall though he was hunched over his own artwork. He was...cute. But not as cute as Paul. Shut up, stupid inner me.

I looked back at my blank paper. "There isn't enough paper for that," I muttered. I could see from the corner of my eye that he was looking at me, probably trying to read my facial expression. I averted my face, hiding it. It was then that it hit me. I began drawing, ignoring the black dust that got on my hands.

After what I seemed like a long time, I looked up from my drawing. It was rings intertwined with rings. They were twisted into each other, still separate, but joined at the same time. At least that's what it looked like to me.

The teacher, who's name I still didn't know, walked over to me and and studied my drawing. He broke into a smile.

"I told you so," He smirked and I suddenly felt like hitting him.

"Uh, Mac, I think you're making her angry." The red haired boy piped up. How did he know that?

This made him smirk more. "Sorry, Miss." He needed punched. "It's good. You won't have a problem in this class." He walked away with my drawing, taking a magnet and sticking it onto a chalkboard.

"He really likes it if he puts it on display," The boy informed me. Did people like walking around nameless?

"Oh, really..."I trailed off, hinting at the fact that I didn't know his name. He wasn't slow.

"Right, I'm Day."

"Day?"

He smiled. "Yup. A nickname given to me by my great-grandmother. My real name is Darcy." He cringed and I laughed and then thought for a minute.

"Darcy is Irish," I noted and then laughed. He threw me a questioning glance. "Mr. Darcy," I laughed again. "From Pride & Prejudice, you know.

"Oh yea, it is." He blushed slightly. "You know, I didn't catch your name."

I mentally slapped my forehead. "Oh, I'm Cate, short for Catherine."

"That's Irish, too." Day was smart, that much was for sure. And an artist. He had been sketching out different faces of several celebrities that was apparently for a project.

"Yes, my mom is Irish. My grandparents moved over right they married. What about you?"

He smiled. "My grandparents also moved here,"

"How did you end up in La Push?" I asked.

"My mother came here on vacation and fell in love with my dad," He rolled his eyes. "She moved out here and then I was born." He eyed me. "How did you come to be in La Push?"

"Uh, my dad's mother was from here and my parents are getting divorced..." I trailed off. Just talking about it was making me depressed.

"Oh," He looked down at his sketch. "I understand," His face told me that he really did understand. He laughed then, but there was an edge to it.

"What?"

"Our family history's are sort of the same,"

I raised my eyebrows. "Yea, I guess they are. Mothers are of Irish decent and our fathers are Quileute."

"That's funny," He laughed again, this time it sounded more natural.

I smiled as the bell rang. "It was nice meeting you, Day," I picked up my bag only to be stopped by a voice.

"What's your next class," Day asked me.

"Honors US History," I told him, my map at hand.

"I have history too. I'll walk you," He gathered his books and led me over to the next hallway where the class was located. I took a seat next to him after gathering a book from the teacher who was a short, balding man.

"So, Cate, where are you from," Day asked me as the teacher got the overhead ready for the notes.

"Manhattan," I answered him, pulling out a notebook and a pencil.

"That explains a lot," He mused, pulling out a single sheet of crisp paper and a pen.

My brow furrowed. "What do you mean,"

He shrugged. "You just have this air of sophistication about you,"

I felt one of my seldom blushes creep up my neck. "Oh," I didn't know what to say to that. Sophistication was usually associated with being snobby. That was something I didn't want to portray about myself because that wasn't who I was.

"It's not a bad thing," He said quickly. The teacher turned off the lights, the room becoming pitch black since it was an interior classroom and didn't have widows. He flipped the overhead on and started rambling about the American Revolution. I wrote down all the notes and even penned some the teacher's boring side points. I had already missed three months of information. The tribal school started in mid-August, unlike other schools that didn't start until the first week of September. At NYSPA, school was basically all year around. Technically the school year ended at the end of May, but most students took summer classes. It was like going to school without being graded and minus the academics.

The teacher, whose name I still didn't know, finished the notes and handed out a worksheet that was due the next day.

The bell rang and I took out my schedule to discover that it was already time for lunch.

Day was at my side as we walked out of the room but Paul was leaning against the lockers across from the room, his arms crossed. His expression was a bit tense as he sized up Day, smirking as he took in Day's lanky six foot frame. I rolled my eyes and exhaled sharply, annoyed but at the same time it pleased me to see that Paul was jealous.

"See you later, Day," I cooed just to see that angry pout that took over Paul's face.

"Later Cate," Day called back, meeting Paul's glare. He took off down the hall.

I turned to face Paul, smirking. "Hey Paul," He narrowed his eyes.

"I don't think you should hang out with him," He looked pointedly over my shoulder to where Day had walked.

I glared up at him. "Oh and why not?" I crossed my arms, annoyed. I hated being told what to do.

"Listen, I know you don't like taking orders," It threw me for a minute that he had noticed that. "But Day," He paused for a moment. "He doesn't have the best reputation." He softly grabbed my wrist and started towing me towards what I assumed was the direction of the cafeteria.

"And how would you know about Day's reputation?" I asked as he pulled us into the line.

Paul snorted. "Everyone knows about him. Plus, you're new. Everyone is interested in you for that simple fact. It's not every day that you get a new, pretty girl at a school of only sixty-some kids." he smiled as he piled his tray high with food. I grabbed a tray, following his lead. I eyed the food, trying to decipher what was edible and what wasn't.

I settled on a bowl of seasoned, curly fries; they looked like they had just been stuck in the oven, nothing else done to them.

I paid for my fries and walked along side Paul to a round table near the back of the small cafeteria. Sitting there was, Jared and Kim. I looked around for my cousins and found Seth sitting with some younger boys and Leah was with a group of senior girls. Of course, Embry, Jacob and Quil had a table all to themselves. I waved first to Seth and then to the three musketeers.

Paul and I sat across from Jared and Kim. Paul dug into his food and I picked up a fry and munched on it. It was then that I noticed the stares that Jared and Kim gave each other. Kim wasn't the most attractive girl with too wide cheekbones and eyes that were too small to balance the rest of her face out. Her thin, black, wispy hair was pulled into a ponytail. Despite this, Jared looked at her as if she was God's gift to mankind. Kim's dark skin was slightly darker on her cheeks, from blushing. They must have been together awhile or it was a new love. I decided to ask.

"So, Kim, how long have you and Jared been together," I asked, munching on another fry. Kim took a sip of her chocolate milk, her face darkening.

"Since the beginning of the school year," She answered, taking a bite of her sandwich. Ah. So it was a new love.

"Mm. How did you two meet?" I ate faster now, my hunger gnawing at me.

She blushed again. "We were in the same home room," She giggled a little. "It was kinda like love at first sight," She turned her head, her lips meeting Jared's for a brief second.

My brow furrowed and my mouth twisted. Kim noticed.

"What is it?"

"I don't really believe in love," Jared shot a look at Paul whose fork had stopped midway to his mouth.

Kim frowned. "Oh, that's sad. Why don't you believe in love?"

"Love just doesn't...make sense to me. People do and say crazy things; they act crazy and blame it on 'being in love'. It just sounds like a pathetic excuse for people to act irrationally." I was scowling at my fries now. I noticed that Paul had suddenly stopped eating, his face contorted into some unknown emotion.

"Hey, are you alright Paul," I couldn't help but ask. I didn't like seeing his face like that. It's kind of your fault. How was it my fault? My inner me really needed to shut her mouth.

"Yeah," he answered, dejected. "Perfect." The word was like acid through his teeth. It made me flinch and my nose tickled, forewarning me that I was going to cry. I stood up and tossed my fries into the nearest garbage can. I didn't go back to the table, I simply headed for the exit. I wouldn't cry in front of them.

He hurt your feelings. But why did it hurt so much? Because you like him, you idiot. I felt a single tear escape as I walked to my locker. I had just shoved my books in there and I liked a bit of order in my locker.

How could it be that I liked Paul so quickly. We had only had a handful of conversations, but yet there was something that drew me to him. There was this pull and I just had to be around him. Even just leaving him in the cafeteria, it had hurt me, even more than Paul's words.

I stacked my books according in order of my classes. I took out my schedule, trying to memorize it. So I had Algebra II followed by Language, Study Hall, and Gym at the end of the day. I groaned, thinking of Algebra II. Geometry had been hard enough. I didn't understand what the point of Language was. Study Hall and Gym were my saving grace. I didn't mind a class where I could sleep and Gym was just easy. Hit a ball, throw a ball, catch a ball. Easy.

I jumped when someone tapped my shoulder. It was Day.

"Hey, I saw you run out of the cafeteria." he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Is something wrong?" he snorted. "Or did Paul do something?"

My brow furrowed. "Why would you say that Paul was at fault?" I crossed my arms, suddenly defensive. I didn't like the way he said Paul's name.

"Everyone knows about Paul "Bad Tempered" Walker." He smirked. "That guy has some serious issues." I was about to open my mouth to defend Paul when a voice cut me off.

"Really? I have issues. That's hilarious coming from the man-whore of La Push." Paul's easy voice was barely even as he sauntered towards Day and I. He took a defensive stance in front of me. The height difference between Day and Paul wasn't much, but Paul was pure muscle, but Day didn't back down from Paul.

My money's on Paul, For once, I agreed with my inner voice.

Day's brown eyes narrowed. "I know you and your gang think you guys are the shit, but if you wanna go then we can take this outside, where you won't have back up."

Paul snorted a laugh. "The only reason they would be there would be to cheer me on. Every guy has been waiting for the right excuse to beat the shit out of you. But I'm tired of waiting an excuse." His fists clenched and his body shook, more like trembled.

Before I could think, my hand was on Paul's forearm.

"Paul," I called his name softly. He turned his head to look me in the eye. Brown met blue and the tremors stopped. He closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. He turned his head back to Day and opened his eyes.

"Stay away from her," He all but growled. Day took a step back, put off by Paul's tone. He shot a look at me.

"Don't let him push you around," He warned. "See ya around, Cate," He quickly made his way down the hallway.

Paul's shoulders were tense and he took several deep breaths. I waited a moment. He still didn't say anything.

"Are you alright," I asked him. He turned on me, my back to the lockers. His dark eyes peered into mine.

"I'm sorry," I knew he was apologizing for more than what had just happened.

"It's okay," He was forgiven. It was hard to stay mad at Paul. He sighed, though he still seemed troubled. "What's wrong,"

He narrowed his eyes in the direction Day had scampered off to. "I want to hit him,"

I chuckled. "I bet you do." I shook my head, hiding the pleasure that I was pleased at Paul's obvious jealously. Paul smiled, his white teeth bright against his dark skin, and my heart sped up.

Stupid Paul.

"Just promise me that you'll stay away from him," Paul locked our gaze and I couldn't help but nod.

"Alright, I promise," I breathed.

Stupid Cate.

His smiled widened. My heart reacted again.

Stupid heart.

The bell rang suddenly, sending students out into the hallways. I jumped at the sound and grabbed my purse and notebook out of my locker. Paul was still standing there. He smirked at me. He was going to get that smirk smacked right off his face.

"I'll see you in Language, Princess," He ran off before I could smack him. I groaned and found my Algebra II class. I knew, for sure, that I was going to already fail this class.

The teacher was a woman in her thirties with big, curly, brown hair. She was writing something on the SmartBoard as I approached her.

"Hello, I'm Cate Rostov," She turned and smiled warmly at me.

"Hi," Her voice was high, but sweet. "I'm Mrs. Haught," I nearly laughed at her name. "Yeah, I know the name is funny." She chuckled and handed me a book. "This is our book, we will be starting the second chapter today, so don't worry about the first chapter. Plus, this is easy stuff. Your seat will be right next to Samantha, the girl with blond hair in the middle row. Do you have any questions?" I was amazed she had gotten all that out with barely taking a breath.

"No, I'm good." I gave her a small smiled. Her answering smile was wide.

"Well, if you ever do, I'm here until about four o'clock everyday. Math isn't always the easiest subject." She smiled comfortingly at me. I instantly felt better about Algebra. I took the seat next to the girl she had pointed out.

Samantha was a bottle-blond with plain blue eyes and a tan that could only be obtained by a tanning bed. I raised an eyebrow at her, but took out a sheet of paper and carefully took notes. The lesson seemed easy enough, but I couldn't help but notice glares that I was getting from Samantha.

Okay, someone obviously has a problem, Got that right. I ignored Samantha and began working on the assigned homework, working my way through the problems. I heard someone clear their throat next to me. I turned to see Samantha with what I'm sure she thought was a pleasant smile.

"Hi, I'm Samm," She introduced herself with a nasal voice, flipping her hair back.

"Cate," I muttered indifferently and went back to my homework. Apparently, Samm wasn't done talking to me.

"I heard you're from New York. What was your old school like?" She was digging for my old popularity status. I wondered what she would think if I told her I was in the top of my class, dance class that is. That all the other dancers looked to me for leadership and help. Not that I was ever going to tell her.

"It was an performing arts school, if you must know," I said in a polite tone though my words were anything but.

Her eyes narrowed, catching my tone. "Hm. That sounds like fun." She sniffed. "I bet you miss your friends," Still digging.

"Sure, who wouldn't?" When was she going to realize I wasn't going to give in to what she wanted. She was going to get no information out of me. The bell rang, effectively ending the conversation. I grabbed my books and headed out the door and towards my next class. It was Language, the class I had been dreading all day. I took a deep breath before I walked into the class. My eyes went directly to Paul was who was sitting at the back of the class. He smiled when he saw me, reassuring me as I walked up to the teacher.

The teacher was a tall, dark haired man. His mouth was set into a tight, angry line.

It's not you. You just walked into the class room. I hoped my inner voice was right. I carefully approached the teacher and told him that I was new and my name. He barely glanced at me as he handed me a workbook and told me to find a seat. I nearly ran to Paul and the seat waiting for me.

Instead of desks, there were gray tables that sat two people. I already felt better being next to Paul. I just wanted this day to be over.

Once I sat down, I took a look around the room. Above the black board there was the Quileute alphabet. Holy...there were thirty-seven letters and nine of them were the letter "k". They expected me to learn this? Why must people ask me to do the impossible?

With a frustrated sigh, I put my head down on the table. I felt Paul rubbing my arm, but I kept my head down. I really, really hated life.

My brooding was interrupted by a the teacher's voice calling out some weird choking sounds. I raised my head and everyone else around me muttered back a reply. My lips tightened into a thin line and my eyes burned.

It was so agitating to be in class where you knew absolutely nothing. The teacher continued speaking in the odd, choking language and the rest of the students pulled out their work books and opened them up. I followed suit and looked over to catch the page number from Paul. I flipped my book open and frowned when I couldn't recognize anything on the page.

"Alright," The teacher finally said in English. "Homework check," He went around the room with his grade book, putting a check mark on the page and then marking the grade down in his book. When he got to the back row, he looked over Paul's page and nodded. "Good work, Paul." He continued on to me. "How much do you know of the Quileute language?"

I blushed. "Nothing," I muttered, embarrassed.

He raised an eyebrow. "I believe in your file it said you were part Quileute, which is why you were put into this class." He was questioning my ancestry?

"I am part Quileute." I said, my voice laced with annoyance.

"Mr. C," Paul interjected. "Cate has only been to La Push one other time. She hasn't spent a lot of time here."

"Didn't your parents teach it to you?" Mr. C questioned.

I shook my head. "My father isn't fluent in Quileute." Sure, he had been, once. Grandma Lucy had taught all of her children the language; she had planned on teaching me, but she died before she got the chance. My dad barely used the language once he moved out and then never after Grandma Lucy died.

"Well, I'll have a talk with the vice principal and see if we can get you moved into a different class." With that he walked towards the last of the students. I felt completely mortified, embarrassed. The way he said it made it sound as if he was completely disappointed. It's not my fault that I was never taught Quileute. I sunk low into my chair, bringing my knees up.

"Cate, it's okay." Paul whispered into my ear. "You didn't grow up here, you can't help that you don't know Quileute." His arm slung across the back of my chair, his warm hand resting on my shoulder. His words were comforting, but I still felt embarrassed.

It really isn't your fault. Paul's right. I hate it when everyone, even inside my head, is right. I tried to shake off the embarrassment and listen to what the teacher was saying. Of course, I understood absolutely nothing. Paul was very fluent and even seemed bored at times. The same went for Jared, who was also in our class though he was a grade ahead of Paul and I. They seemed to understand the language perfectly, with no trouble at all. That did nothing to my complex about not knowing anything.

I wasn't use to not knowing something. Algebra was one thing, but most other things I knew. This was something I should have known, but didn't. Hell, I knew French but that wouldn't help me in Quileute. As I listened, the language made no sense. Each letter "k" had a different sound, had a different meaning in words. The words looked like a five year old pretending they knew how to write. What in the world were the Quileutes thinking when they invented this crazy language?

I would learn Quileute, even if I had to read until my eyes fell out of my head and my tongue dried up from talking so much. I was determined to learn this damned language.

When the bell rang, I walked up to Mr. C, motioning to Paul to wait a minute.

"Um, Mr. C," He looked up from his papers, giving me a look to continue. "I would like to stay in this class and try and learn Quileute."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure that would be best for you Catherine. The kids in here have been taught this language since they were in preschool. Quileute is a very complicated language."

"I realize that, but I would really like to have the opportunity to learn." I suddenly felt a warm arm over my shoulders. It was Paul.

"C'mon Mr. C. I'll be her tutor. She'll be speaking it in no time," He flashed his bright smile. Mr. C sighed and then shot a look at me.

"As long as you understand that it is going to be very hard to learn Quileute and your grade might suffer in this class, then alright." He sighed, resigned.

"Thank you," I said, grateful. Paul towed me out of the room and down the hallway.

"Will you really help me?" I asked him, straining my neck to look up at him.

He snorted. "Of course I will. I wasn't making that up back there. Quileute is very hard and you would get no where if someone didn't help you."

"Why is it so easy for you?" I asked him.

A strange look crossed his face. "I use it a lot," That was all he would say on the matter. He walked me to the study hall room which was only half full.

I turned towards Paul, "Thank you, for everything." I gave him a smile which sparked his own, wonderfully bright smile.

"Anything for the Princess," He chuckled and I smacked his arm.

"Idiot," I muttered.

"Aw, c'mon. You know you love it when I call you 'princess', Princess." He smirked and dodged my slap.

"Just get out of here before I murder you and throw you into the ocean," I muttered violently, walking into the class room with Paul laughing behind me. The bell rang so I picked a random seat at the back of the room. I pulled out my Algebra homework and worked on it, not wanting to take it home. I was able to get my History homework done too by the time the bell rang. I hurried to my last class, Gym, and it went by quickly as I played a game of volleyball. Simple.

I wasn't exactly sure if I was suppose to wait for anyone or if anyone would be waiting for me. I went to my locker, putting away the books I didn't need and pulling out the study guide for the book we were reading in English. After putting my coat and scarf on and grabbing my umbrella, I headed for the red doors that I entered this morning. Along the way I spotted Seth who looked like he was waiting for someone. I rushed to his side and was greeted with a smile.

"Cate, just the girl I was waiting for,"

"Thanks for waiting. I probably would have gotten lost," I started to smile when my phone rang. My smile grew ten times its usual size. "Lucas!" I breathed as I answered the phone.

He chuckled. "Hey Cate. What are you doing?"

"I just got out of school," I told him, nearly dancing with excitement. "Hey, shouldn't you be in class? It's only noon in PA; you have Psychology right now."

Lucas laughed. "You know my schedule? Nice, Catie, nice."

"Shut up. What do you want? You don't skip class to call your sister for no reason." Leah was standing with Seth now, rolling her eyes and walking towards the door while Seth gestured for me to follow, which I did.

"I was just wondering if you could ask Harry and Sue if it would be alright if I came up for a visit," It was raining so I put up my umbrella but nearly dropped it at Lucas' news.

"You're coming for a visit?" I repeated his words in a question form.

"Yup. I don't feel like going home." He explained and I understood. His voice was tight.

"I'll ask Harry and Sue, but I don't see why you couldn't come."

I could hear Lucas' smile. "Manners, Cate. Remember those? You have to do the polite thing." There went Lucas, being the reasonable one again.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. So how's everything?" I rolled my eyes and kept an eye on the back of Seth's gray hoodie.

Lucas paused for a moment too long for anything to be alright. "Fine," Liar. "It's just that...I don't know. Things have been feeling off lately. Maybe it's because I know that you aren't at home and in some strange place. Maybe its the divorce." I cringed. "But, at the moment a visit to La Push seems like just the right thing. My dose of heroin," He laughed.

"Ha ha, Lucas. You're such a riot," I sneered. He chuckled at my sarcasm that he knew all too well. "I don't know how on earth La Push could be the best vacation spot for you. It all rain and clouds, twenty-four seven. A serious lack of people, though the ones that are here aren't too bad." I amended thinking of Paul and Emily. Ah, crap! I had to to tell Lucas about Paul. Shit. Yeah, for once, I agree. But there isn't a relationship with Paul. Just an odd friendship. True. Why did I jump to that line of thought anyways?

"Any pretty girls?" He asked, half serious.

"Are the girls not good enough for you in Pennsylvania?" I laughed and he chuckled. "Not any that are of legal age for you, Luc."

"There's my luck for you," He joked. I walked into the red house and instead of going to my room, I took a seat in the kitchen. Sue was already busy making dinner. I sniffed the air and cringed. Fish.

"So, when would you come up?" I asked, taking off my shoes.

"Well, we have a week off for Thanksgiving. So, I'd get on the plane as soon as my last class lets out,"

"Nice. I'll talk to them about it and call you tonight."

"Love you, Catie."

"Love you, too." I hung up my phone, slipping it in my pocket. Of course, Sue turned towards me, curious.

"Was that your brother," She asked, stirring something in a pot. I slipped off my coat and scarf, fixing my shirt.

"Yes. He wants to know if it would be alright if he could come and visit for Thanksgiving." I put on my cutest, most pleading face but it wasn't hard because I was so excited and I really wanted Lucas to come.

Sue's face softened. "Sure. I don't see why not. I'll talk to Harry of course. But you can call your brother and give him the go ahead." I couldn't help myself as I threw my arms around Sue.

"Thank you! Thank you!" I raced up to my room and quickly gave my brother the news. We talked a little bit more about his trip and then he excused himself to go to class. I glanced at the clock. It was just after three and then meant that in New York it was a little bit past eleven which meant lunch break for NYSPA. Time to call Missy.

I had to wait until the sixth ring before she picked up. "Hello," she answered the phone with a hesitant voice.

"Missy! Hey. I miss you so much," I prattled.

"Oh yea, I miss you too. How's the Middle-of-Nowhere?" She asked, sounding distant.

"Boring, but getting better. Paul is...well things are weird but, you know what I mean,"

She was still sounding distant. "Oh, yeah." There was background noise; somebody asking her who it was, her answering. I knew that voice!

"Miss, is Aimee there with you?" I asked in a shocked voice.

"Um, yeah. We were just working on the dance." I could picture her biting her lip as she hid the real truth from me.

"Right. Why don't you call me back when you are alone," I sighed, defeated. "Bye Melissa." I hung up, sad. I knew that me and Melissa were probably going to lose the intense friendship that we had, but I thought that we could still be good friends. I've only been gone three days and Aimee has already sunk her claws into Melissa.

I wiped away the stray tear that feel. "Wonderful," I muttered as I finally noticed the boxes that were in my room. The rest of my things had arrived. I dug through the one box that I knew my books were in and pulled out Speak. My copy was very worn, the spine had crease from being opened so many times. I was able to answer all the questions on the study guide without having to refer to the book. I heard Sue call out that dinner was ready and with a sigh, I made my way down the stairs.

It was weird sitting at the table with the Clearwaters. It was too much like a made-for-TV movie. The food was...repulsive. Fried fish, mashed potatoes, and green beans. The mashed potatoes were the only thing I ate. I hate green beans and the fish was too greasy. I got up, leaving my plate at the table and went back to my room only to grab my towel and head into the bathroom. My hair was going to need washed everyday if it got rained on. I sighed as I turned on the water and quickly showered. I changed into the regular pajamas I wore at home; a camisole and my boy short underwear. I went to sorting through the boxes that had arrived, drying my hair after a few minutes.

Soon, all the boxes were either sorted through or put in the closet until I needed them. I crawled into my bed then, pulling the covers around me tightly. My suddenly long day crashed over me like a tidal wave.

All the stresses of NYSPA were replaced by new ones: Samantha(she is going to be a problem, for sure), Paul, losing my best friend to my enemy, my evil class load. The only good thing was that I was going to see my brother. I tried to pretend that the rain hitting my window was the traffic of New York. I felt a few tears escape as I felt my home sickness set in.

AN: I'm SO sorry I took so long to update. I got really sick, my grandma had a heart attack, my cousin just passed away, my mother had surgery. Yeah, life sucks. This chapter is KINDA boring, I know. But we do get some Paul/Cate FLUFF! And this chapter was 10 pages so its long!

REMEMBER to go to my homepage and check out the links. There is a new one for Cate's pajamas. Not the interesting things, but super cute! Thank you for all the reviews! They make me happy! Thanks for reading! KISSES!