Aah... I'm sorry this update took so long! It's been at least a week or two, right?

Me is sorry.. I just started the new school year last week and I've been loaded with homework and stuff... but I've got a few study halls this year, so I can continue my tradition of last year... either blowing off the homework until that evening and writing, or doing the homework then writing in the next study hall. XD But, here's chapter five... I think? Yeah, five... I thought it was six for some reason... O_o

Carlisle Cullen

"I'm here," I muttered, shuffling into my science teacher's room at exactly two-thirty on the dot, as he'd instructed.

Though it wasn't only me that occupied this detention; Esme, as well.

I just didn't get it. I had no idea of how long Mr. Aldrict had been standing there or how much if the incident he saw, but anyone who wasn't blind or deaf could clearly tell that Esme had done nothing; that she was the victim behind this whole mess.

Anyone but that scumbag of a teacher, that is.

I stifled a sigh, taking a seat a few desks down from where Esme was slumped down in her chair with the black hood of her sweatshirt pulled tightly over her head as usual. I then looked up at the teacher, waiting for him to give us some sort of instruction on what – or what not – to do. He finally stood up from his place in the front of the room and cleared his throat.

"I'll be in the teacher's lounge if either of you bad seeds need me," he announced. "A hint of advice: don't need me." At that ending note, the rather large, bearded man stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him, leaving just Esme and I in the room. I glanced at the girl a few seats down from me before attempting to distract myself with digging through my bag, trying to find something to occupy myself. I gave up after a few minutes, remembering that I had finished the last of my assignments in my eighth period study hall. Sighing lightly, I looked over at Esme again, noticing how she too had no homework out on her desk.

"You don't have any homework either?" I asked quietly, curious to see if she'd play along with my pathetic attempt at small talk. Instead, she just simply shook her head, keeping her gaze on the desk in front of her.

I nodded slightly, "That's good." My voice was quiet; almost quiet enough that I, myself, couldn't even hear it. A few minutes of dead, awkward silence passed before, to my pleasant surprise, Esme spoke.

"You didn't have to defend me, you know," she murmured. "You wouldn't have put yourself in this position. I'm sure detention must really suck for you." I smirked slightly and snuck a glance at her again.

"No, not really," I disagreed lightly. "It beats going home and cooking dinner or something." Her gaze shot up from it's position on the blank desk to look at me at the end of my sentence. It was in that brief moment that I saw and realized how truly beautiful she was. Despite the nearly overwhelming color to her skin, the dark and almost lifeless look to her eyes, there was still something, that little unrecognizable quality, that shone through. I wasn't sure of exactly how long I had kept my eyes on her; but obviously long enough for her to shift uncomfortably and look away. I also removed my gaze and stared at the desk.

"Uh... sorry," I apologized, feeling as if my cheeks had just flushed a bright red. "I sorta, um... zoned out for a minute."

Esme merely shrugged it off, "Don't worry about it. I get weird looks and stares all the time."

I coughed quietly and quickly changed the subject. "So where did you move from?"

"Ashland. You know, in Wisconsin."

I smiled, "That's cool. What made you guys... your family... decide to move here? Wisconsin is so different from California, isn't it?"

She paused for a moment, as if she were unsure of how to answer my question. "Err... my... mom got a new job." The short glance she gave me after she finished speaking clearly conveyed to me that she didn't want to share any more of her life's personal details; instead, she wanted to know about mine. "Have you lived here all your life?"

I shook my head. "No, actually. I lived in New York until I was about ten. Then my mom suddenly decided on a whim to move out here." I sighed lightly. "It was a big change, but I managed."

"So... you just moved across the whole continental U.S because your mom felt like it?"

I smiled and laughed once quietly, "Yeah, pretty much." She then opened her mouth to most likely ask me something else, but was interrupted by the sharp squeaking of the classroom door opening.

"You two are free to go," Mr. Aldrict mumbled. "They're closing the school early today."

"Cool," I murmured to myself, slinging by backpack over one shoulder and standing up from my seat. I looked over at Esme, who had also stood up and had started towards the door. I followed her closely down the hall, trying to catch up with her quick pace.

"Hey, um... would you wanna... walk home together? I heard that you live somewhere near where I do," I suggested.

"Can't," she replied, her tone cutting. "I... have to go to my mom's work. I'll see you tomorrow." It was at that moment that she took a sharp turn down the next hallway and quickly walked out the side door of the school.

"Okay then." I mumbled, continuing on my way.

"Hey! You're alive!" Clark exclaimed, waving his hand in the air from the table set back in the corner of the town coffee shop. I walked over to him, Ryan and Erin, dropping my bag to the floor and taking the one empty seat left.

"Yeah," I replied. "It wasn't too bad. Aldrict left the room for the whole thing.. then let us out early 'cause they were closing the school early or something."

"So he left you two alone? It was just you and her in the room?" Ryan inquired eagerly, leaning across the table and setting his curious gaze on mine.

Clark laughed, "Jeez, Ryan. You're talking like he left them together in a hotel room." I rolled my eyes.

"Sick minded bastard," I muttered to myself, before turning to Ryan. "Yes. I tried to get to know her a bit but... I kinda failed a bit. All I got was that she's from Wisconsin."

"Ooh, Wisconsin. I hear they're sketchy," Clark said, a wide grin on his face.

Erin leaned over and smacked him in the shoulder, "I was born there, you know!"

"Who ever said that you weren't sketchy?"

Erin chucked a little packet of sugar at him, sighing. I rolled my eyes and turned back to Ryan who's gaze was darting between Erin and Clark, intently watching their sugar-packet battle. After a few seconds, he looked back at me leaving the other two to their quarrel.

"I can't believe you actually got her to talk. I don't think anyone's successfully accomplished that yet."

"He probably sweet-talked her or something. Y'know, I bet Carlisle really is all warm and fuzzy on the inside, no matter how many times he denies it," Clark cut in after tossing the last packet of sugar at Erin. I sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of my nose between my forefinger and thumb.

"There was no 'sweet-talking' involved, Clark," I muttered. "I just asked her where she was from and she said Wisconsin. Simple."

"Eh. You'll get more out of her soon enough... if that jock doesn't kill you first," Erin joked. "I never thought you had the willpower to break someone's nose. Especially not Brandon Hurley."

"He deserved it." I smirked evilly.

"He's deserved it since he was born. I'm surprised no one's thought to do it before," Ryan laughed.

"I heard somewhere that his ex-girlfriend tried a while back when she caught him cheating," Clark put in.

I unknowingly tuned out of their conversation a few seconds later, letting my gaze wander around the walls of the local coffee joint. I wonder if she actually goes to her mother's work, I thought. No teenager in the tenth grade does that these days. I let the question hang in my mind , trying to think of some sort of event Esme would have to try to hide. Maybe she wasn't lost in the forest for a week and a half; maybe she was in some sort of cult. Maybe she couldn't take the pressure of being the outcast at a new school. Or, maybe, she just couldn't live with herself anymore. Couldn't live with herself? What the hell am I thinking? I barely know the girl; I can't just assume. I rested my chin on my fist, still keeping my gaze on the paintings that hung on the deep burgundy walls of the coffee shop.

I'd find out one way or another. Someday, somehow, I'd get her to tell me.

Let the ride begin.