Sorry for the delay, but I hope this chapter makes up for it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, but if you come after me I will get a vampire to kill you, which will really suck for you.
Chapter 5: FML – Twilight Edition
Ellie/Bella
Charlie didn't bother asking what was wrong when he came home. He knew well enough when he found me still shivering, curled up on the couch. He handed me a blanket and left for his office. He was used to this; he knew how to react and what not to do.
I appreciated it. Later, maybe we could talk. Maybe; I could not guarantee anything. The only bad thing was that I was once again alone with my thoughts, which I was pretty sure were out to kill me. Damn it, emotions aren't supposed to talk to you! Fear cringed at my tone, Anger and Insulted were being all buddy-buddy, Optimism was nowhere to be found.
And memories weren't supposed to cage their owners like a thousand personalized Guantanamo Bays!
She had thought about using a cage, she'd told me. It was early on day two, I think, and she was going on and on about all the planning she'd put into this… this… There was only one word that could describe what this was.
Betrayal.
She told me the cage would've been too conspicuous, and too much of a hassle. As if her train of diabolical ranting had reminded her, she checked the tightness of the leather restraints that held me down. Satisfied, she resumed ranting, telling me how she hadn't imagined it happening like this, hadn't wanted it to hurt me, blaming me for making her have to hurt me, have to—
"If you had just said no. If you had just ignored her, it would have been different. But you had to go and say yes, like some slut!" She barked, and I cringed. Almost instantly, her hand reached out in some twisted attempt to soothe, stroking my cheek. I jerked away from her hand. How dare she blame me for this? How the hell was it my fault? I just said yes when I was asked on a date, by my crush that she very well knew about! I cried inside, the profound and simple hurt I felt overwhelming me. I'm not a slut. I've never even kissed anyone. Why would she say that? Why is she doing this?
But she had told me why. Told me her reasons, but I still couldn't process it, couldn't understand it. So I stayed silent, which wasn't difficult given the fact that I was gagged.
I gasped and unintentionally rolled off the couch. I hit the floor with a thud and a grunt and rolled onto my back. I stayed there for lord knows how long, staring at the ceiling and trying to get myself under control.
One thing was certain: I wasn't sleeping tonight.
1-2-3-2-1 (I had to change the symbol for time lapse to boring numbers because stupid feels they can just up and delete my symbols and not tell me they've been deleted.)
I dragged my feet as I walked into school the next morning, feeling every bit like the zombie I must look like. Apparently I didn't look like much of one though because there was Mike, completely oblivious. First period was a repeat of yesterday, though I do think I handled it better this time around. At the very least, I didn't have an hour long panic attack in the bathroom.
Second period was apparently Spanish, which means blow-off class for me as I'm already fluent in Spanish, German and Turkish (I know, it's really random for me to speak Turkish, but hey, no one ever knows when I'm cussing them out, so it's worth it!) The teacher was vibrant and welcoming, and, if I was being perfectly honest, a little like a human-sized parakeet. I liked her.
Third period was Calculus… damn it! I sulked for the majority of that class, scowling. But then it was over (oh thank god), and it was time for lunch. Wait…
Aw crap, I had to go to lunch. With the Cullens. DAMN IT!
Reluctantly, very reluctantly, I made my way to the cafeteria. Optimism was attempting to reassure me that it was very unlikely that anything would happen between us (by us I meant me and that blonde seraph Rosalie, who, if her murderous glares from yesterday were anything to go off of, should have been named Azriel), but it had proven time and again that it only got me so far.
I tried as inconspicuously as possible to just get my lunch and take my seat. I think I did an okay job. Angela and Ben sat on either side of me again. I think Mike was a bit peeved by that, but he almost hid it well. To my displeasure, Lauren and Jessica also sat down across from me. I distinctly felt a heeled foot crash down on my toes. I rolled with the punch, figuratively speaking, and pulled my feet back out of reach. Lauren looked particularly suspicious.
Angela was ever the epitome of outgoing and welcoming. She happily and eagerly engaged Ben and me in light conversation. Once again, I felt… comfortable around them. It scared me to feel that way but I found I didn't want to close myself off to them. Yet.
It entered me like a spear of awareness, drawing my gaze to the door. There they were. The Cullens. And there she was. Rosalie. Their eyes met mine again, but this time when they passed I managed to break out of my trance.
Temporarily.
I lasted about five minutes before I furtively peeked over my shoulder. They were talking amongst themselves, Rosalie looking as angry and glare-y as yesterday and the others looking inexplicably smug about… something.
…
Was it just me, or were they sitting closer to our table? I could've sworn they were five tables in the opposite direction yesterday. I counted; there were only three randomly placed and spaced tables between us now. Some people around the cafeteria also seemed to notice this change. Several nameless teens sent brief glares towards the strange family—glares I noticed that family dutifully ignoring—making me think the Cullens had displaced some students who were now pouting at a different table.
Okay…
Then I shook myself. Check your ego, girl, I lightly chastised myself. They probably just wanted a new table. It has nothing to do with you.
I nodded to myself, turned back to my table again in time to hear Ben finish a rant about comic books and pushed, or attempted to push, the Cullens from my mind.
Why can I feel eyes on me?
After lunch, I felt a sense of severe dread as I approached the door to the English room. Don't be a coward, I told myself repeatedly. Go in and just do the fucking thing.
I went in and took my seat. The rest of the class filed in, including Rosalie (oh boy). However, I was very much aware of the fact that Alice wasn't here. Rosalie shot me a fierce warning look that made me shiver before sitting down beside me. Alice's seat remained empty.
Crap. Well, I tried to reassure myself that should the need to escape the pale choking hands of Azriel arise, there was an easy opening to use for escape.
"Okay, class, today we will be continuing our study into the poems of Walt Whitman and Emily Dickinson with me introducing your next project to you," the teacher (I'm not good with teacher names) said.
Oh goodie; something I can pay attention to distract myself from the silently seething goddess one seat to my left. I enthusiastically listened as the teacher explained.
"For this project, you will be creating a PowerPoint presentation in which you will be choosing a song—any school appropriate song—and analyzing its meaning and poetic devices. You will prepare a thirty second clip of your chosen song to play for the class, preferably a verse or chorus line, and you will put the lyrics in your presentation. Now, here's the catch. You must be able to compare your song to one of either Walt Whitman or Emily Dickinson's poems and explain what the poetic devices contribute to the song. You choose the poem and match the song. Your grading sheets from the beginning of class will explain the finer details. Eh, you'll be working in pairs with the person next to you and will turn in and present your completed project next Tuesday. Any questions?"
Fuck.
My.
Life.
I spared a fearful glance at Rosalie, who looked ready to rip the teacher's head off with her bare hands. Then her gaze met mine, and it… changed. I can't really describe it, but it changed. It was still angry, very angry, but there was something… something…
A hand briskly shoved my shoulder. "Hey, wake up before you start drooling."
I jumped, halfway out of my seat, heart pounding. Then I looked down to see Rosalie's hand suspended in midair between us. So she was the one who touched me. I… I didn't notice. I was too caught up in her… I looked everywhere on her face but her eyes. She looked… concerned. Worried, but just like that, it was gone or hidden behind a huffy mask once more. I think I may have imagined it.
"How about this? I'll come to your place tomorrow and we'll pick a song and a poem and go from there," she said, very formal and succinct.
I found myself robbed of words, so I nodded and ducked my head. When in doubt, act like a scared little bunny and hope the predator passes you by. "D-do you know where I live?" I mumbled.
"Yes," she said and nothing more.
"Okay," I said, damning the slight quiver in my voice.
"Alright then," she said.
We didn't speak for the rest of class.
Rosalie
What was with this girl? Seriously, she looked like she wanted to jump out the window and run off screaming. Again.
Is it me? I wondered worriedly. It's probably me. I haven't exactly been approachable or remotely welcoming to her. Maybe I should try—
Shut up! You don't have to do anything for this silly girl. She's just one insignificant human, a naïve child who you do not feel anything for.
Liar! She's your mate and you damn well feel it!
She is NOT my mate!
Yes she is!
I snarled quietly to myself. Damn inner voices always cluttering up my head with their bickering. I knocked them both out as I left the classroom.
Come what may, I will be standing in Bella Swan's house tomorrow performing mundane academic tasks for the sole purpose of keeping up appearances in this stupid town.
Fuck my life.
So, Rosalie can't make any claim to sanity either. The next chapter is up for debate. I'm leaving it for you guys to choose. Your choices are:
Ellie and Rosalie do work for their project and all the angsty, awkward, pre-relationship stuff that comes with it
Ellie goes to La Push in the evening with Charlie and we meet the characters and the dynamic there with the project chapter after.
Put your votes in your reviews and I'll go from there.
I would hope that this chapter made it pretty obvious what happened to Ellie, if not who did it. If not, please let me know. Note: the non-italics in the italicized section are thoughts in case anyone was thrown off.
Second note: Azriel is the legit Angel of Death in actual angelology and seraphs (seraphim if you want to be technical) are said to be the highest among the ranks of angels, such as Michael, Gabriel, Azriel, and Lucifer. So, that's some high (if a little bittersweet) praise for Rosalie, don't ya think?
Third note: this is kinda really late, but the song from chapter 1 is Stand in the Rain by Superchick.