Blaire.
Hair naturally curled to perfection and frizz free. Check.
Nails chip free. Check.
Outfit without wrinkles. Check.
Ready for school. No check.
Truthfully, after being home and lounging around the house for about two weeks doing absolutely nothing of course I was not ready to go back to school. Why would I want to go back to loads of unneeded busy work, long hours of sitting in class, and drama of bitchy girls and PMSing guys. Why would I want to go back to that?
In all reality I could stay home from school, hell I could just drop out. But I'm a planner, a person with ambition and drive. I know at times I'm an irresponsible drunk party fashion obsessed girl, but times are about to change.
This is my senior year and for a few months I've been off my A game. And while I'm partying and worrying about boys, some girl out there is studying her ass off. While I'm giving a makeover some girl is filling out a college application.
My plans for my life are all laid out nothing to disturb its balance. That was until Byron whisked me away to this rainy town. I had to drop out the top art school in the country, which greatly shook the balance of my plan. On top of that because of these werewolf distraction I haven't painted or sketched in months and that greatly shook the foundation of my plan since I'm applying for an art scholarship at Columbia University in my home town New York.
Sure, I could easily pay to get in there. Of course it wouldn't be a dent in my parent's fortune. But things have always been handed to me, and at times it hasn't been a problem. Such as my clothes, cars, and vacation expenses, I have no problem with them paying for that stuff.
No, but when it comes down to it some things can't be handed to you. And this is one of those things I will not let be handed to me. I want to build up my own life independently, like an adult.
So that is why my A games coming back.
I need to start focusing. Of course La Push is no place to have an art center or classes but Seattle is only two hours away. So every Saturday from eight to eleven I'll be learning to sharpen my skills.
Along with that I'm getting back into my average routine that I did in New York. Starting tomorrow I'm going to start getting up at six to do an hour of yoga. Yoga helps artist relax and see everything with a new refreshed eye. This will defiantly help me see the small things in my drawings that could make a big difference.
My diet will also change going from Diet Coke to fruit and veggie smoothies. Veggies will be eaten twice a day and a gallon of water drunken per day.
I need to get my A game back.
Slinging my designer tote across my shoulder me and my knee high boots strutted out the apartment building that was in need of a good cleaning. I walked over puddles of rain water in the parking lot and opened the car door to be greeted with the scent of donuts. Byron took a bite letting frosting stick to the side of his mouth.
Can somebody explain to me how that thing is attractive?
He started the car and let the comfortable morning silence engulf us on our ride back to school and studies. But one thing I had been avoiding all morning kept creeping up in the back of my mind.
I would have to face Jacob.
It was in evident that I would have to see him. He was in over half of my classes and interaction would become unavoidable since we sat next to each other first hour.
But just because interaction wasn't avoidable didn't mean I couldn't try.
Byron.
I pulled up to the small high school and parked. Blaire got out saying something about needing to talk to some teacher and walked out onto the gravel parking lot. I stayed in the car leaning back against the leather seat.
I had nothing.
Seth wouldn't pick up the phone and yesterday on patrol he kept replaying what I yelled to Leah over and over again.
It's safe to say he's still pissed.
Seth was mad and he was the only person I could relate to. Jacob was cool but he was literally a lovesick puppy, and it was especially weird since he was lovesick over my sister.
But one look at her with a face mask on and that would change…
The bell rung and I decided not to piss off my history teacher any further. I know she loved my absence for a while, happy that the new kid wasn't talking about her acne problem. And I was starting to miss my absence even more. Unlike the last time I was in school I was no longer excited to walk into class and sit next to my best friend and ready to goof off.
Nope, now I was moving toward class sitting next to a person who would rather ignore me. Fantastic.
I sat down, late as usual and received a lecture. As usual. Seth ignored me, as usual.
First period was about to end in a few minutes and I leaned back in my chair praying the long class would end and save me from killing myself.
"Hey." I tried talking to Seth, what did I have to lose?
In response, I received silence.
"Still mad about the thing…" I said.
And the crickets are heard in the background…
"Come on man. What can I do to make it up to you?" I asked, third time's the charm right?
He slowly turned his head toward me and stared me down with his cold eyes.
"Why don't you try, I don't know, apologizing to my sister." he spoke sarcastically.
This had been an option I had been thinking off, but I always brushed it off. Why should I apologize to somebody who said something equally damaging to me? Sure, I may have started it but that doesn't mean she has to steep to my level.
She is after all the mature one.
I think.
Jacob.
Hello second semester, hello fresh start. No more dealing with vampires or long patrol hours. Nope, I was done, finished and free.
Now the question was what to do with that free time.
Considering the fact that my almost girlfriend, also known as Blaire, doesn't speak to me she won't be an option. Also taking into consideration that I left the pack, and all my friends, I doubt they want to hang out. My only options were hanging out with sophomores.
How cool am I.
I walked into science looking over the heads of half my classmates and bumping a few as I tried to reach my destination. I walked toward the back of the classroom, where I regularly sit due to the fact that nobody can see over my head.
The teacher walked in with a sour look on her face. I t clearly read 'I hate teens, mornings, my job, and my husband.' If she had a husband of course, couldn't be too sure since it looked like she was sprouting a mustache…
"Assigned seating. Due to behavior in all my classes I've found it fit for you all to move. As I call your name, get to your seat. And fast. I'm not repeating a word." she stated all of her words cold and emotionless.
"Brown, Dunning, Smith…" she said rapidly naming off classmates. I gathered my books and waited for her to say my last name.
"Black, Jones." she spoke pointing to a lab table. I walked over to the table a smile slightly playing on my lips.
Every since my Dad talked to me about Blaire I realized he was right. Why should we stop talking after one minor fight? I had missed her company greatly; I've been yearning for some sarcasm and dry humor that only Blaire could do. As she placed her books down next to me I inhaled her scent I hadn't smelled in the last 24 hours. Something about her expensive sweet smelling perfume and cherry lip-gloss made me even more attracted to her. I still clearly remember the taste of her lips on mine that one night in the field…
"Notebooks out, pens ready for a pop quiz." the teacher snapped and ruffling of paper could be heard.
"Can I borrow a piece of paper?" I whispered leaning by my lab partner. Of course I had a piece of paper; actually my notebook was under my desk. But being the cowardly werewolf I am, I had no other excuse or way to talk to her.
So the paper idea it was.
She tore the paper out her lime green notebook and our fingers lightly touched for a few seconds, but that was enough to send a shock up my hand.
Could I sound any more lovesick?
Leah.
"Agh!" I shrieked lightly jumping back and dropping the massacre brush. Apparently it vibrated causing the lashed to grow longer and it was recommended that it was heated before usage.
This is why my eye is slightly burning.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow." I mumbled and I put my head under the sink and started the cold water. It ran down my face and onto my eye easing the pain. Of course if I was human I would need a doctor and to be in the emergency room.
But since I'm not human, I'm fine.
I reached for a cotton white towel and dried my face off. I put the massacre brush in a box which held all the stuff Blaire gave me, the box that contained stuff that will probably never be used. In this box were expensive makeup and hair tools, eight inch heels, and a very short sequin Chanel dress. All of these of course will be auctioned off on eBay.
For the first time in a while I put on an old greased stain shirt and a pair of baggy sweat pants, something I would normally wear in public but not anymore. I grabbed a book, the Notebook to be more specific, and settled down in my living room.
Blaire had recommended that if I'm C-minus (she later explained that meant without a crush or man in my life) that it would help to watch other people's hard romances. Apparently it's supposed to give me hope that my love life will improve and that other people are doing ten times worse.
This is always good to know.
I picked up on page twenty and as I was about to turn the page the phone rang. Without looking at caller ID I answered the phone.
"Hello?" I asked still reading.
"Hi Leah its Sam."
The pit in my stomach that always deepened at the mention, memory, or sight at Sam deepened greatly. I still haven't decided if this pit was because I still have feelings for him or simply because I don't like him.
Of course I'm leaning towards option B.
"Hello Sam." I said my voice cracking.
Cool and confident. Cool and confident. Cool and confident.
"How are you?" he asked trying to make small talk.
"Fine and yourself?" I asked as if I cared about what his life was going after he broke my heart.
"Goog, good. Listen I don't want to beat around the bush to much, but would you like to go out with me and Emily tonight?"
Wow. Is this guy for real? Is he seriously asking if I would like to see this happy couple together? Is he seriously asking if I want to see what was supposed to be my husband with my cousin?
Is he serious?
"So you're asking…if I would like to see you and my cousin eating and looking at each other in a loving way. Your shitting me right Sam?" I scoffed the bitch inside me growing stronger by the minute.
"Because if that's what you're asking then my answer is hell no!"I yelled into the phone hanging up. I angrily threw the phone across the room not caring where it landed. I furiously chucked the love story across the room and stomped upstairs to get a more depressing life story than mine.
If of course, one actually exists.