Chapter 3: Adjustments

XXX

No one threw stones at me, I can assure that much. But I guess it wasn't often that people transferred to this school so late in the game, because people were staring at me like I was walking around with two heads. I turned my eyes to a group of girls who were assembling into teams for basketball (the physical activity for the day, I guess), and I heard a few of them snicker. I crossed my arms over my chest, not sure what else to do. I couldn't tell what emotion was evident on my face, but I tried to make myself seem like I didn't care.

"So you're Gowan," The teacher didn't ask, he stated, "you'll have to sit out for today. Not only are you late, you don't have the required uniform. You can purchase it at the front office, so get that taken care of by tomorrow. Let's not start off on the wrong foot, Gowan." This teacher, Mr. Meloni, was most definitely going to be on my hit list by the end of the year. He was a thick man, and I mean beer-belly status. His perspiring face was pudgy to the point where you couldn't see his neck unless you looked at him from a side profile. Beady blue eyes, graying hair at a receded hairline, and a sic 'stache under his bulbous nose made me think of that toy, Mr. Potato Head. "Go sit on the bench."

I obeyed without complaint. I sat with my messenger bag on my lap, hugging it close to my body as if it could protect me from an attack that I anticipated was coming. I knew I was just being self-conscious; most of the students lost interest in staring at me, and continued to function around themselves as though I had never walked in. The girls and guys of the class were split up, playing basketball with only someone else of their gender, and Mr. Potato Head watched each side like a hawk. Sexist much?

I took particular notice of a tall African American boy, whose hair was grown out into shoulder length dread locks and teeth that flashed pearly white against his cute face. His laugh was loud and delightful, and I hadn't realized until I refocused on the other boys that he was laughing because he wasn't putting that much effort into their game, yet still managed to make the basket shot from quite an impressive distance and evade the boys who tried to keep up with his agile movements. Definitely a sport-buff-- oh eww, his friend spit on the floor! At least wait until you're outside!

The rest of the period dragged on for me, and consisted only of watching other students or chipping off my last week's yellow nail polish. Exciting, I know.

I sighed with relief when the bell rang, and dashed out the door to find my next class. It wasn't hard to find; the room was located just down the main hallway leading away from the Gym. Thankfully, I was the first one to get there, and I introduced myself to the teacher. He seemed young to be a teacher, with his curly brown hair and coke bottle glasses, and was quite a depressed looking man. He smiled weakly at me, then looked over his class seating chart. "You'll be sitting next to Morgan Harrison," he pointed to a double jointed desk set in the second to last row of tables, thankfully placed near the window. I nodded obediently and hurried to my desk when students began to flow through the door way.

I fidgeted in my seat, unsure of how to greet my new table mate. Surely I would have to say hi to her, it's the polite thing to do… but before my thoughts had the chance to completely consume me, something flashed past the corner of my eye, catching my attention.

It was raining, and the scenery outside was slightly blurred from the water running down the glass pane. It almost looked like a distorted painting, and yet what I was looking at wasn't blurry enough to be considered an illusion of sorts. I leaned closer to the window pane, squinting my eyes in an attempt to adjust my vision. What the hell…?

Two figures, I was sure there were two, stood at the point where the end of the school campus lawn ended, and joined with the trees lining the beginning of the forest. It was a bit of a distance, but it didn't hinder my view of their outlines. One stood on a rock, the other hunched over slightly towards the ground. My face was so close to the window now, my forehead was pressed lightly against the pane. The figures were dark skinned, tall, and immediately the Quileute boys came to mind. But… wait, are they not wearing shirts!? It's like, 50 degrees outside! Or maybe the distance was playing tricks on my vision. Yet, I could clearly see the blue of jeans and the other wearing shorts. I couldn't see the color of shirts, just russet. If I went outside, I could get a better view—

"See something you like? Well that's not possible, 'cause you're not lookin' at me," A voice chuckled mockingly. I jumped in my seat, and turned to look up into the face of the African American boy who had been schooling his team mates during their game of basketball. I felt myself blushing, and looked down at my desk. "I was kidding," he laughed. I still didn't look at him, and intertwined my fingers. I stole a glance outside the window again, but the figures were gone. I felt the boy pull out his chair and took a seat, but he was now talking to a pretty strawberry blonde girl that approached him. She had porcelain skin and glittering dark blue eyes, and her smile was just as brilliant as a commercial ad model. Sigh. One of those girls who does little to help my ego… They were still talking, when she turned her smile to me, "Oh, hello! You must be the new girl. I'm Yvette Wilshire, pleased to meet you," she held out her hand.

I took it, giving a meek smile of my own, "Penelope Gowan."

"Oh, you talk to her, and you don't say a word to me!" the boy, Morgan I guess, said teasingly.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I was kinda out of it." When I finished that last word, I took another glance outside: still not there.

"Don't bother apologizing to him," Yvette rolled her eyes, "he'll eventually just try to guilt trip you into giving him your number."

"I have a girlfriend, thank you very much!" Morgan bit out, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Has that ever stopped you before?" Yvette teased, then gave me another friendly smile. I could already tell that she was one of the blonde girls that proved that not all blonde people are assholes on sight (contrary to popular belief, including my father's belief).

"Yeah, and you know you're just waiting for the day I'll ask you out."

"What!? Wait, no--"

"C'mon Yvette, stop lying to your self. You know you've always wanted me and my..." but he let the end of sentence hang, and as a grin spread across his lips, it wasn't hard to guess the last few words.

Even though he wasn't speaking to me, I turned bright red from holding in my laughter, Yvette's face the same color in embarrassment as a few students turned to watch the escalating conversation. "I swear Morgan, you are such a pig! Keep dreaming!" She turned on her heel and stomped back to her desk near the front, where she was seated next to a beautiful bronze-haired girl. She turned her light brown eyes in my direction, then rolled her eyes and looked away with disinterest. What was that for?

"Don't mind Claudia. She's hot, but hardly tolerable," Morgan had undoubtedly seen the negative vibe, but was thankfully good-humored about it.

"Yeah, thanks" I smiled, unsure of what to say to him. It was only then that I took time to look towards the front of the room again, and see that the teacher behind the desk was leaned back into his chair, a magazine open on his lap. I frowned, motioning to Morgan, "I take it he's picking out our lesson today from People Magazine?"

Morgan laughed, "Mr. Gerrick has supposedly been having a tough time in his 'personal life', so he's just been lagging it in class for this entire year so far. Saves the trouble of science for us, huh?"

I returned Morgan's smile, then shrugged. "I guess so."

The rest of the period was carried on with aimless conversation with Morgan, and his other friend whose curiosity with me joined in the conversation. He was cute too, but not as good looking as Morgan. He had dark brown hair with deep set green eyes and a goatee. He took no interest in my life in Long Beach like Morgan had begun to; rather, he filled me in with everything I needed to know about Forks. First, avoid going into the forest alone: it's no fun if you don't have friends, and for the obvious reason of it being dangerous. Second, everything that was a source of entertainment for the teens of Forks was located in Port Angeles, movie theater and all. Third, when the sun comes out in Forks, cherish it. Fourth, steer clear of the 'La Push cult'.

And of course, the last one made me frown. "La Push cult?" I repeated. "That's not… a nice thing to say." I felt stupid, but I didn't want to insult the guy for snubbing my few new friends if he had a genuine reason to dislike them.

"Dude seriously, stop hating," Morgan shook his head in disapproval.

The boy, Dillon, ignored Morgan. "You're new, so you don't really understand," he argued humorously towards me, "You see, the La Push boys are what we Forks men like to call 'First Class Assholes.' They swear they're better than everyone outside of La Push. Especially that prick, Jacob Black. He's always coming around here for no reason other than to drag away the attention of all the Forks High School girls. He and his friends can suck one off for all I care."

I felt myself bristle with contempt.

"Oh, please," I almost growled. "I bet you don't even know them, so you're not justified to make calls like that on them." I didn't often lose my temper, and this didn't count either: I just didn't appreciate Dillon's reasoning for talking shit about Jacob and the La Push guys in general.

"You don't know them either. Why defend them?" He countered.

Then I paused, and thought about it. I'd only hung out with them for one night; who was I to say that they weren't assholes to people, regardless if they had been kind to me? And then I thought about Seth's shy gaze, Embry's teasing laughter, Quil's bone-crushing embrace, Emily's kind expression, and especially Jacob's warm hand on my head as he tussled my hair after he gave me encouragement concerning my first day of school.

Fuck it if they were indifferent to the boys in Forks. I liked them, and that was that.

"Actually, I do know them," I said a lot more calmer. "And they're a hell of a lot better company than you're turning out to be." As soon as I said the words, I kinda regretted them; I wasn't the type that usually voiced my opinion so bluntly.

But Morgan's laughter lifted the pressure off of my shoulders, "Dude, you got burned! Just sit your ass down, haha!"

Dillon gave me a look that signified that our disagreement wasn't over. "Whatever," he snapped. "I'm not surprised the new girl instantly became their groupie, anyway." He stalked back to his seat, and the bell rang.

"Don't listen to that dumb ass," Morgan chuckled, "he's just pissed 'cause one of the Quileute boys stole a girlfriend from him last year. His ego is still pretty bruised up by it."

He gave me a grin that was infectious and made me laugh off Dillon's latter comment. I scratched the back of my neck self-consciously, and stood up from my seat. We had the next class together as well, and I was beyond ecstatic. As we walked side by side, Morgan dropped the previous conversation and talked about the simple pleasures of growing up in Forks, but how it would have been awesome to witness the city lights of Long Beach as I had. He talked so freely and with genuine interest in what I had to say… and I couldn't stop staring at his smooth, full mouth. His dreads, pulled back into a loose ponytail as of now, also swayed when he moved his head as he talked, and kinda reminded me of Bob Marley… another simple gesture that made me laugh quietly to myself.

Morgan Harrison was cool. Definitely cool.

XXX

The following class with Morgan flew by, and now came the dreaded lunch hour. I didn't have the heart to ask Morgan if I could sit with him, so I rushed off to the front of the lunch line, picked up my food, and walked back out into the hallway. Only a few kids hung out in the hallway, while the lunch tables were filled with their particular cliques, none of which I knew I'd fit into quite yet… maybe not ever, knowing my tendency of having only a few close friends.

Jeez, I miss Ruth.

I walked down the hallway until I came to the end of the fifth row of lockers, and sank at the corner of the where the last locker met the wall. I was hungry, yet wasn't really in the mood to eat, so I pushed the food around on my plate.

… Well, this sucks.

I don't understand how the people labeled 'loners' at my school could stand being alone. I'd been alone for nearly 15 minutes, and already I was feeling weird about it.

"Hey, spot stealer." I fumbled with my tray in surprise, and looked up to the owner of the intruding voice. Before me stood a girl who looked to be about my height if I were standing up, with jet black hair reaching down to her waist. She was of Asian ethnicity, with slanted brown eyes, high cheek bones, and a lean build. She had light skin, but not the same sunless-pale like most of the students at Forks High School did. She raised an eyebrow as she observed me. "Well?"

"Well…?" I repeated.

She seemed to ruminate over something for a minute in her silence; then she shrugged, and sank down on the floor next to me. We were thigh to thigh, and I looked at her incredulously through the contact that did not seem to bother her at all. She took a bite of her slice of pizza, chewed, then looked at me again.

"I take it that knowing names isn't a necessity for you," I mumbled.

She laughed, and her voice was light and slightly boyish, "I don't do intros. But for you, I guess I can be a normal person for a few seconds," she held out her hand, and I took it without hesitance, "Jian-Li Wickam." She gave me a firm hand shake, and I had to smile enormously due to this stranger's tenacity and exuberance. I also really, really liked her awesomely random name.

"Penelope Gown. Nice to meet you…?" I trailed off, not clearly remembering how to pronounce her first name.

"It's Jian-Li, but for my sanity's sake, please just keep it at Li."

Not that her forwardness wasn't welcome … "If you don't mind me asking but, why are you acting like you've known me for a few years?" Wow, that totally sounded like an asshole question, but I couldn't think of another way to word it. To her credibility, she took no offense and replied casually,

"I've been a hermit for two weeks now. Might as well start playing nice since I'm going to be here for my senior year, too," she giggled nervously towards the end of her statement.

Immeasurable joy pumped my heart as I connected the dots of what she was saying. "You're new, too!?" I whispered excitedly. Wait, why was I whispering?

Her eyes widened slightly, and a full-on braces smile beamed in return. "Yes, ma'am!"

"Where are you from?"

"Manhattan, New York. I can't believe you're the new girl! When people kept saying 'new girl', I figured that they were still talking about me, ha. And you?"

I was surprised by the huge distance between our homelands, and how overall moving to Forks must have been way harder for her than it was for me. "Long Beach, California," I said a bit miserably, suddenly remembering Ruth and sunny days again.

"Well…" Li smiled conspiratorially, "we may be from total opposite sides of the States, but methinks that we'd have way more in common with each other than we would with the pale-faced kids of this ghost town." And oh, how right she was. The rest of lunch carried through animatedly with Li, and we revealed more to each other in the half hour than I had to my dad through conversation in years (sad, I know). Just as it had been with Jacob, it was surprisingly easy for me to talk to her.

She was miles away from the kind of person I was, and differed greatly even from out-spoken Ruth. Li was vibrant, sarcastic, and just down right a lit fire, to which I the moth, was unabashedly drawn to. She asked me if I could come back to this same spot tomorrow, and I was more than happy to oblige.

XXX

Jacob's P.O.V

I thought I could get used to the smell of wet dog. Honestly, I didn't think I smelled too bad even when I was drenched from head to toe. But Paul stunk like yesterday's barf. Maybe it was because I just couldn't stand the guy that I thought so lowly of him in every aspect possible-- maybe I should ease up.

But then I looked at Paul full on face to face, and he glared annoyingly back at me as if his equal dislike of me could phase me.

Nevermind. Paul smells.

I swear, I must've done something to piss off Sam if he sent me to do rounds in Forks with Paul. Ugh, just his name let's you know he's an asshole. I stretched my arms over my arms, wishing again that someone I was cool with was doing rounds with me instead of the awesome silence that always followed when me 'n Paul were alone. I realized I should just focus on getting our task done. The sooner we got this over with, the sooner I could go back to doing something mindless and entertaining.

Maybe I should I hang out with Nel Gowan again? She was a cool chick. Kinda jumpy, but eh, after spending more time with me maybe she won't look like she's anticipating an attack all the time. I also need to tell Seth to lay off: she looked like buddy-buddy material for me, and I didn't need his clumsy little boy hormones to scare her away.

"Hold up," Paul had finally spoke, breaking into my thoughts. The pack liked to run in human form if there wasn't a threat around, so we were handling rounds in shorts and jeans at the moment. But when we both halted, he clearly bristled, but he did not tremble in warning of a phase. Still, something was up.

We had run along the entire east side of Forks already—all clear. Now we were a few yards away from Forks High School, and as I took in the sight of the school, I felt my lips set into a thin line. For a moment, I brushed off the fact that something had caught Paul's attention, because I was reminded of the crippling pain that shot through my chest when I remembered a particular person who had attended this school only a few months ago…

No. No, no. Don't even go there Jake, I had to tell myself.

I refocused on Paul, who said quietly, "You smell that?" With it raining and all, it was hard to smell a lot of things. But when I actually paid attention and wasn't distracted by anything, I could single out what Paul had picked up…

Holy crap.

I felt my skin begin to tremble violently, but I tried to hold myself together in a stupid attempt to outshine Paul, who seemed to be handling this new truth like nothing. My insides began to twist at the sickeningly sweet smell that burned my nostrils, accompanied by the stench of rust and copper. The icy rain did nothing to soothe my heated body as the same two words circled through my head to the point where I felt dizzy:

The Newborns. Newborn vampires, newborn vampires, newborn vampires.

XXX

A/N: Do Jake smell a growing story line? Yes, indeed he does. More on Penelope, but also a P.O.V. from Jacob. You know you love it! And YES, finally some Paul/Penelope interaction in the next chapter. Forgiveness for lagging it?

BTW, Bella and the Cullens will not play a pivotal roll in this story. In fact, I don't want to include the Cullens at all: they will merely be mentioned. But considering I am a die-hard Bella/Jacob fan… I might make something happen on the sidelines. You guys have to give me your opinions on the matter.

Don't forget to review, please! I appreciate all the Favorites and Alerts, but me loooooves the reviews even more!