The idea for this story, and the plot, belongs to gaara king of the sand. Thanks to them for letting me write this story! Twilight belongs to SM.
"You ready for your new school already, Bells?" Charlie asks as he trudges down the stairs to find me already awake and making him breakfast.
I shrug without a word, aware of his eyes on my back. "I wanted to make sure I was ready."
After serving him Charlie wolfs down his breakfast, says a quick goodbye to me and dashes out the door to go to work. I sigh before sliding the rest of my bacon and scrambled eggs into the bin. Truthfully, I want to get to school early and possibly hide for a little bit. If I'm there when it's practically empty then I'll get used to the crowds as they arrive.
Or at least I hope so.
Walking out the front door I stand in front of the almost angry looking red truck my dad bought me. He gave it to me last night, and even though it wasn't said I think it was from my dad's friends - the Blacks - as well. Billy Black's son, Jacob, is a lot... taller than I remember. Although, I haven't seen him for a few years.
Sighing, I decide to walk past the vehicle. I have no doubt the engine will be loud, as it's quite old. I don't want to draw too much attention to myself.
I want to be normal.
But that's impossible.
The school is further than I thought, and after a while my feet start to hurt. My gloved hands become hot and sweaty under the plain black fabric but I refuse to take them off.
I can be normal here, but only if I try to be.
When (finally) I can see the school, students are already crowding the place in dull coloured rain coats like blue, brown and black ants. A shiver runs down my spine as I stare at them. A lot of the girls look like... huggers. Ugh. The worst kind of people.
For me, anyway.
But despite my fear, I manage to slip unnoticed into the crowds; keeping my head down. Looking around I find myself glad I walked, despite the stickiness I can still feel coating my palms and my back, as most of the cars are similar. Old, rusty and beat up. But they're all cars, and almost always silver and black, a long way off from my faded red truck.
Just as the bell rings a shiny silver Volvo races into the lot, smoothly turning into a tiny space in one try. No one takes any notice but me, so it must at least a daily occurrence. I keep staring as everyone else files away to their lessons. I keep staring as the owners of the car climb out. The moment I see their faces, however, I look away.
They are breathtakingly and utterly beautiful. I only saw two boys and a blonde girl, but that was enough. They're clearly not normal, and I can't handle that. I need normal. They're the opposite of normal. No one looks like that. No one can drive like that.
I must stay away from them.
Once again looking at the ground, I hurry to the office to get my schedule. It's soon in my hands and I'm making my way to my first lesson. Maths. When I walk into the building all talking stops and everyone - literally everyone - turns to look at me. Oh God... "I'm Bella Swan," I turn and say to the teacher with as much confidence as I can muster with at least twenty people tracking my every move. "I'm new."
The teacher gives a complacent sort of "Hmm." Before holding his hand out for my slip. I hand it over wordlessly and he signs it and gives it back in the same fashion. He then starts the lesson without guiding me to a seat, so I just stand there awkwardly until I spot a spare seat at the back. When I sit down I pull my gloves off quickly.
Bad idea.
"Hi, I'm Mike Newton," The blonde boy next to me says enthusiastically, grabbing my hand without asking and shaking it roughly. "You must be Isabella."
He goes through high school, just barely escaping repeating senior year. Unfortunately he spends a lot of his time fawning over me, but I appear to be with the same group of people every time he looks over. Not enough decisions have been made to determin who those poeple are, though. After college, he marries Jessica Stanley and becomes an English teacher at this very school. When they're twenty five, Jessica gives birth to twin girls and is unable to have any more children. At fourty five years old he stays late at the office and on his way home gets killed by a drunk driver.
I curse under my breath as he lets go of his hand. Another thing I despise about my power is that whenever I meet someone new, I learn so many things about them that I have no right to know about. My own evasiveness disgusts me.
But what I really hate most it that there is no else like me.
"I'm Bella," I reply curtly, turning towards the teacher and his lecture.
Thinking over this Mike Newton's future I grin as I realise that this boy has potential for a very long life. There are so many decisions involving his death that anything could easily be changed. The man who kills him may decide not to drink that day. Mike might decide not to stay late at the office. Mike may not even become an English teacher.
He could be anything.
The lesson ends sooner than I think possible, and suddenly I'm sitting in History, still thinking about Mike's future. Maybe I'll find a way to change it myself. Maybe it won't change.
But it might.
No one really cares that I keep my gloves on for the rest of the day. In fact I see some others with gloves on too. Much more obvious gloves. Jessica Stanley (who is in my English class) way wearing fingerless white gloves with diamonds around the wrist.
I'm still grinning as I step into the cafeteria and sit down with Angela, a kind girl in my English class. For the first time in months, I find myself enjoying myself. I laugh with people, not just absently when I find them laughing at something I wasn't paying attention to. Finally, I have friends who I don't have to worry about dying in seven years. I'm happy.
But my smile fades as the people I last wanted to see stride almost inhumanely gracefully into the cafeteria. There is another boy and another girl this time.
It's them.