A/N I do not own Twilight, and I also don't own The Iron Queen by Julie Kagawa. I have not taken a Psychology class and I am not sure why I have Coach Clapp teaching that class. I don't think I have anything else to say except please review. It is very discouraging when nobody reviews. Enjoy!
When I head to the kitchen for breakfast nobody bothers me. They haven't seen me like this in forever. The last time was middle school, when everybody made a bug deal of picking on me. Those were the worst years of my life. That's what had bugged me about Jessica; she was making the Cullens into something they were not. They probably could have cared less, but still, that was how it started in my middle school.
The drive to school is as uneventful as breakfast.
When I arrive at school, it's a totally different situation. People are watching me, like literally stalking me with their eyes. When I move, somebody is always trailing me. It's even more disconcerting than sitting in front of Jasper Hale.
I ease through the first three classes of the day without incident, but when Trig comes around Jess springs.
"Your father works for a corporation in Seattle?" she asks, eyes bugging out of her head.
"Uh-huh," I offer a nonchalant response. All I know is that it brings in money for my family, and that's good enough for me.
"And he makes over one million dollars a year?" I'm not surprised by Jess's assumption. Anyone who works for a big business must make big money by society's standards.
"Um, no. That's about as likely as Mrs. Cope and Mr. Greene getting together and having an affair." Jess blushes bright red. I continue on with the truth. "He's supposed to make like $200,000 a year because of his promotion. He used to make around $80,000."
I'm pretty sure Jess's jaw is going to fall off with the way it hangs open. I realize that the amount probably seems very large to people in this small town. I decide to try to craft my story to seem less glamorous.
"However," I press onward when she doesn't respond. "He's not going to be able to spend a lot of time with my family. Since his job is in Seattle it's going to be my mom, my two brothers and me by ourselves during the week. My dad will spend his time in a hotel. It sucks big time."
"He gets to stay in a hotel?" The expressions Jess has given me in the last five minutes are starting to cause me to worry about her health.
"Yeah…" I plan to carry on explaining the downsides to my dad's job, but I have a feeling that Jess isn't going to take the hint.
"That's so cool! ..." Jessica begins to babble on about all the perks he'll get. I roll my chocolate brown eyes. She's not going to understand. On the bright side, at least she felt guilty about spreading the rumors about Mrs. Cope and Mr. Greene. Otherwise she wouldn't have blushed when I brought it up. I decide I'll give her a chance to be my friend. And maybe some of the other kids too. I can't live in a friendless hell for two more years.
At lunch everyone is interested in me, apparently the word has spread that I am a rich man's daughter. I swallow my annoyance and tried to be amiable and make new friends. I learn that the blond boy that followed Bella the day before is named Mike. There is a quiet dark haired girl with glasses who's name is Angela that also sits with us. I could definitely make friends with her. I try to converse with her and Bella, but I keep getting overwhelmed by questions from everyone else. I end up chattering away endlessly about my dad's job. That is, until the Cullens come in and steal my breath away.
There are only four of them today, the two tall boys and the girls. I become worried. Maybe Jasper's situation is more serious than I think. I have no idea what's become of Edward. I watch their table for several minutes, and I notice Bella is doing the same. Not a single one of them looks our way. Lunch ends faster than I believe is possible, and I proceed to Psychology.
I'm not early like yesterday; in fact the only seat that hasn't been filled is Jasper's. Then the bell rings and Coach Clapp still isn't in the room. All of a sudden Mrs. Cope rushes in, her long red hair trailing behind her.
"Coach Clapp is taking a day off for vacation. I'm your sub." She goes to the front desk and begins checking off names on the attendance sheet. All the students continue talking. Then she looks up.
"Excuse me, Rosalie," Mrs. Cope addresses the gorgeous blond. "Where's your brother?"
Rosalie's full lips turn down in a frown and the noise in the room quiets. Everybody wants to hear what happened to Jasper. "I'm afraid he had a diabetic attack yesterday. We thought it was minor but it turned out to be more serious. He probably won't be attending class for a while."
"Oh," Mrs. Cope's lips turn down also. "What a shame. Tell him I hope he feels better soon."
"I will." Rosalie nods. Mrs. Cope resumes taking attendance and when she's finished she reads off the assignment.
"Please read pages 186 to 199 of your textbook."
Groans resound throughout the class. We don't want to read the same selection two days in a row.
"We already read that," a pretty senior girl with freckles in the front of the room complains.
"You did?" Mrs. Cope questions, looking over her eyeglasses at us. We all nod and mumble in assent. Mrs. Cope is apprehensive. "Are you sure? Mr. Clapp just gave me these instructions yesterday morning."
Another groan ripples through the class. Outdated instructions by a few hours. Lovely. The senior in the front pipes up again.
"Coach Clapp gave you those like before Jasper had his freak out in class." At this point I figure out the girl possesses a very snobbish voice. Her mouth also moves at a hundred miles per hour. "He totally almost died from his diabetic attack and then like Rosalie had to drag him out of the room and then Coach Clapp was like 'OMG, Now I have to write up a report, ugh' and then he was like 'Everybody read pages 186 to 199' and then we like read the whole hour. It was soooooo boring. And now we have to read it again and it's like going to suck." I also discovered she's like not very good at English. Mrs. Cope seems to agree with me and is giving the girl a funny expression. I almost crack up laughing but then realize that these students are mostly seniors and are probably used to her by now. I see Rosalie's shoulders vibrate though, and her hand is covering her mouth.
"Okay, thanks for that information Sarah," Mrs. Cope applauds the chatter box. "I'm going to guess that what Sarah said is true?" she asks the rest of us. We nod. Why else would we be moaning for the last five minutes?
"Okay, then…" with her red hair and the smoke drifting out of her ears as Mrs. Cope ponders the situation I'm pretty sure she is on fire. Then a light bulb appears above her head. "We can create get well soon cards for Jasper! That would be perfect. Hold on and I'll go get some construction paper from the art wing."
As soon as Mrs. Cope evacuates the room the babble starts up once again. I hear bits and pieces of different discussions.
"Do you really think Hale could get sick…?"
"Nu-uh the guy looks invincible half the time…"
"What should I write on his card…?"
"I'm going to tell him that I think he's like, so totally hot…"
"But what if…?"
I pity the freckled girl. She is talking about telling Jasper he's hot in a get well card? I don't thing anyone in their right mind will enjoy that while their sick. Mrs. Cope returns in five minutes with a stack of construction paper that she places on the front desk. Immediately half the classroom swarms to it. I sit back and wait. I don't think I really want to make Jasper a card. I'm not a very talented artist. So I chose to write him a letter instead. I pluck a piece of lined paper from my notebook and commence writing, choosing my words carefully as always.
Jasper, I write. I only save dear for close acquaintances.
I'm so terribly sorry that you are sick, especially since we haven't really gotten to know each other yet. Your family seems nice, and I hope you get better for their sake as well as your own. Hopefully you don't hate me as much as I think you do. No offense, but that glare you gave me while you had your diabetic attack was a bit disconcerting. Not to mention the one your sister gave me afterward. Is she thinking about ripping my head off? Because that's what it looks like. Again, no offense. Also, I guess I would like to apologize for everyone at this school's behavior towards you. Most of the students here, I think, judge to quickly and search for answers later. Or they just look at the physical appearance. I pray Sarah doesn't actually write to tell you that you're hot in her get well card. I don't think any of this would happen so often if you and your siblings weren't so aloof. But, then again I suppose you have a reason for being that way. Maybe you could tell me why, I am a writer. I can transform almost anything into a story, unless you'd prefer I didn't. You could tell me about your Alaskan adventures once you are better.
Keep fighting that sugar!
Lizzie Monarch
I smile as I read over the letter, especially when I read the part about fighting the sugar. It's very original. This is exactly how I wanted the letter to turn out. Hopefully Jasper will get a chance to read it before the whole secrecy and lack of contact with everybody else takes over. Or Rosalie tears it to shreds.
I silently stroll up to Mrs. Cope's desk among the uproar from the other students. Card making also involves socializing evidently.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Cope?" She doesn't hear my voice in the ruckus.
"Excuse me," I speak a bit louder and enunciate. "Mrs. Cope?"
She glances up from whatever she is doing. A sudoku puzzle, I think.
"Yes, Miss Monarch?"
"Do you have an envelope?"
"For what?"
I brandish the letter in her face. "I wrote a letter instead of a card. You can see through the paper so I thought an envelope might be nice for privacy."
"Oh, of course dear." She slides open a drawer and pulls out an envelope. She hands it to me and says, "You know they say a picture is worth a thousand words, maybe you can make him a card too."
"No thank you ma'am," I reply. "A picture is only worth a thousand words when people can actually understand what it is. With my artistic abilities I severely doubt that's going to happen."
I rapidly return to my desk and address the envelope Jasper Hale. Then I put it in Mrs. Cope's able hands and read for the rest of the hour. The action in The Iron Queen is getting very good.
"I'm starting work in Seattle tomorrow," Dad announces at dinner that evening. My brothers and I look at him like he's crazy.
"Nice joke Dad," Jace says, scooping some peas into his mouth while I stick my tongue out at him in disgust. Peas taste dreadful. "You already told us you wouldn't start until at least a month after we got here. Plus, would psychotic Lizzie do if you actually left now? When her life here in Forks is so, and I quote 'stupid?'"
"I'm working on it, Jace," I throw back. How dare he bring that up again? "You would have done the same thing I did yesterday if you'd had the same day I did. Unfortunately, unlike you I don't have good looks to get everybody to instantaneously love or be able to quash the stupid ones with a single blow. You move through friends like the breeze through an open field. It took me forever to make friends in Michigan. You think I want to go through that again here?"
"Are you trying to make friends, Lizzie?" my mother asks, concerned.
"Yes, mom. I am actually attempting too, now that you mention it. It's just a few people here remind me of the jerks from middle school. I'm trying to adapt though." I try to placate her with the last sentence.
"Good," my father rumbles. "Because I really do have to start work tomorrow."
"Why, Dad?" I ask. "They said they'd give you time to settle your family in."
"I'm sorry, Lizzie, I don't know why. If this will have an affect on your attitude about being Forks, I can try and get the weekend." He's worried about me having another outburst; I can see it in his eyes. Just as chocolaty as mine.
"I'll be fine, Daddy," I assure him. "Yesterday was uncalled for. Even if my first day wasn't spectacular, I shouldn't have vented on you guys."
"I'll say," Jace smirks, "Mark was scared that you'd go in his room and suck his blood. Forget the monsters."
"Was not!" Mark retorts. With that, my family falls easily into a normal conversation, and dinner concludes on a happy note. I head to my room to finish off my homework and write some of my story.
I've nearly completed my Trig homework when there's a soft knock on my door.
"Lizzie," my dad calls tenderly, "Are you in there?"
"Yes, dad come on in."
I stay sprawled out on my mattress as my dad enters. I have no desire to move, though I do stretch my arm muscles briefly. My dad analyzes my position.
"That looks uncomfortable."
"Yes, homework generally is."
A weak smile touches his lips.
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for shoving this on you so fast. You seem to be the one having the hardest time adapting."
"It's fine Dad, really. I thought the sunlight people would have issues. I guess I forgot about my own problems. I'm in control now though, I promise." I reorder my face from thinking about homework look to comforting Dad.
"I know you are sweetheart. I just wanted to let you know, if this ever becomes too much, I can resign." I am surprised at his words. He technically only has to deal with me for two more years.
"Thanks, Dad. But don't you think that's a little shortsighted? You've only got me for two more years."
He shrugs. "It is what it is. Oh, and I also though not this weekend but the next one we could meet in Seattle and I would take you shopping for this room. I know you'd prefer not to go with you mother like the boys. All the cars should be here by then."
"That'd be great, Dad. Now, are you going to tease me about my Trig or not?" I hold up my scribbles for a single problem and he laughs. Then he shows me the way to the answer that I comprehend. He stays until I finish, though he's probably uncomfortable sitting on the floor. Then he leaves to go to the other side of our gigantic mansion.
"I love you, Dad." I say as he leaves the room. I know I truly am still his baby girl.
The school week passes without a sign of Jasper or Edward. Bella is frantic the first few days. Every day she scans their lunch table as though impending doom may be coming her way. I look a few times, only to be met by either the curious gaze of Alice Cullen or the malevolent glare of Rosalie.
Then Monday it snows.
"Why did it have to snow now?" I complain to Jace as we drive to drop Mark off. Now that our dad is in Seattle it's our duty to transport Mark to and from Forks Elementary. It's my week to drive, according to Jace, and I hate the snow.
"Just drive Lizzie, or I'm hitting you with a snowball at lunch."
"Fine." I throttle the accelerator. Jace freaks.
The first part of the day passes as what I consider normal now. Meet with Bella and Jess, talk with them, and try to be an average high schooler. The second half of the day, now that's a little out of my comfort zone.
It starts at lunch. Jasper and Edward are back. If that's not enough to keep me on my toes I'm also slightly worried about Jace knocking my head off with a snow- actually slush ball. There are already some slush wars going on, and Bella is holding her binder in case she needs to deflect a flying slush ball.
Bella buys only a soda, and I follow suit. Like I said, I already have enough distractions. Plus, if I do get nailed by Jace, I don't want to have slush mess up perfectly good food.
Soon, I fall into a false sense of security and notice Bella checking out something across the lunchroom. I already know it's the Cullen table, but I take a peek anyway. They are all laughing and the boys' hair is covered in snow. Emmett is shaking his hair at Alice and Rosalie, and Alice holds up a lunch tray as a shield. They are enjoying the snowy day like everyone else. I return my attention to my soda.
Jessica notices Bella's stare shortly after I do, and has the carelessness to ask, "Bella what are you staring at?"
At that very instant Bella looks down, and I see why. Edward is looking our way.
"Edward Cullen is staring at you," Jess remarks to Bella. "And Lizzie, isn't that your brother?" She points behind me.
"Crap," I barely manage a glance over my shoulder before instinct kicks in. He has a slush ball. I pretend not to notice him.
"Jess," I whisper, "as soon my brother throws the slush ball in his right hand duck. Not before he throws it, right when he tosses it."
"What? Why?" Is she really that stupid?
"Just do it Jess." Jessica is straight across from me, so if she and I duck at about the same time, both of us should miss being pied in the head. Bella doesn't get it either. She's looking at me strangely. Then Jess ducks. I mimic her movements and the slush ball flies over our heads. I feel a little spittle from it touch the back of my neck. When the threat is gone I straighten back up. Then I gasp when I see where it is going. The Cullen table on the other side of the room. Jace must have really put something behind that pitch. As the slush gets closer to its new destination, I can tell its going straight for Jasper Hale. I put my hand in front of my face and hide my eyes. Why me?
"Whoa," Jess marvels, "Did you just see that?"
"See what?" Bella and I ask at the same time. I realize Bella is in the same position as me.
"Jasper just totally flicked that slush ball away; it didn't even come close to hitting him." Jess struggles to use her hand show exactly what he did.
"Are any of them looking this way?" I question.
"Yeah, Edward, he's still staring at Bella."
"Does he look angry, does he?" Bella worries.
"Better question, does Jasper look angry?" I wonder. I don't really desire to be glared at during Psychology again.
"No, Edward's just staring and Jasper looks like he's chuckling. Why?"
"I just don't want Jasper to be angry about the slush ball," I grumble. I'm going to have a talk with my dear brother after school.
"I don't think Edward likes me very much," Bella confides. Then she puts her head down on her arm, completely hiding her face.
"The Cullens don't like anybody…" Jess snorts. "Well they don't notice anybody enough to like them. But Bella, Edward is still staring at you.
"Stop looking," Bella hisses. Jess snickers and then obliges her. The Mike interrupts to ask if we want to join an epic snow ball battle after school. Jess eagerly agrees. I politely decline. Bella stays silent. I doubt she'll join in. I'll have to get to the car as fast as possible.
I am one of the last people to arrive at Psychology, again. The only seats left empty are Jasper and Rosalie Hale. Maybe they decided to skip.
But of course, my hunch about the Hales skipping is wrong. They slide into their desks as the bell rings. I don't look behind me.
"Well, Jasper," Coach Clapp comments, "Glad to see you back. I presume you took your insulin today?"
I presume Jasper nods, because he doesn't speak, and Coach Clapp sets down the attendance list.
"So, class today I am going to assign a partner project. It is very simple. Some time during the course of the next week, you and your partner are going to get together and do psychological observations on each other. I will hand out a list of questions that you will ask each other. You must not pay attention to only the verbal answers, but also the physical answers they give you. Do they look up before answering? Do they shift slightly in their seat? These will tell you what they aren't saying. Afterward, I expect each person to write an analysis on their partner and hand it in. We will not be presenting." He looks over each and every one of us. "Any questions?"
"Do we get choose partners?"
"No, then you may already know a lot of information about that person. Your partner will be either the person in front of or behind you. Every odd numbered desk in each row will be partnered with the desk behind them. Look now and see who it is. I'll give you five- no ten minutes to discuss the details. If you don't have a partner raise your hand."
I count the desks in front of me. I am the fifth person in the row.
"Crap." I don't have the courage to turn around. Jasper Hale is my Psychology partner. Hopefully he doesn't actually hate me.
"Elizabeth," a low smooth voice like the ones cowboys have in western movies comes from behind me. "Are we actually going to talk about this, or are you going to stare at the board?"
I slowly inch around in my seat. Jasper is leaning all the way back in his seat. His eyes are gold today instead of black. I don't ask why.
"So…?" he trails off into a question.
"Um…" I try to gather myself. "We could go to my house during the week, when my Dad isn't home."
"We could do it during lunch," he offers. He seems to esteem this option.
"No. Noise affects how a person reacts. We have to work when it's silent."
He reflects on this for a minute, then sighs, "Fine. What day?"
"How about Friday? I won't have to worry about the rest of my homework once we are done with the inquisitions."
"That sounds good." It's a simple answer; I can't make a conversation out of that. We end up in kind of an awkward stare off.
"So… Did you get my letter?" I inquire. It's the only thing I can think of that relates to both of us.
"Yes. Thank you. You are a very talented writer," an inkling of a smile creeps onto his lips. "I do think Rosalie hates you, though."
I am astonished by his honesty. Most people don't say things like that directly to someone else's face.
"Well, as long as you don't hate me I think we're good," I tease.
A doubtful looks crosses his face, "I'm not sure if that would be a good thing."
My eyebrows scrunch together, "Why?"
"Have you ever heard the expression things aren't always what they seem? I believe you referenced something similar in your letter."
"Yes."
"Then after this project you should know to stay away from me." A threatening smile crosses his face.
I am unabashed. I even try to crack a joke.
"Uh-uh. I know your weakness. I'll just wave a bag of sugar in your face and you'll drop like Superman confronted with Kryptonite."
Jasper is amused, but his response is cut off by Coach Clapp telling us to open our books and observe a diagram on board.
Jasper doesn't bother me again until I reach the parking lot. I slip on a melting patch of ice and fall on my butt. I catch sight of Jasper by the Cullens' silver Volvo, laughing. Jace laughs too, until I remind him he has to pay for trying to whack me and instead whacking Jasper in the head. Jace knows I'm diabolical, so for his own safety he stops.