Chapter Two: Carcinogenic Newcomers
Charlotte Marks bit into her toast thoughtfully, her eyes fixed on the laptop screen in front of her. The screen showed a wide, professional picture of a generic student with an overly wide smile on her face in front of Boston University. Charlotte scrolled down the page, her eyes narrowing as she read the description of their programs.
"Wear your glasses, we spent the money for all those consultations for a reason," her mother told her, dropping the small case onto the table beside her. Charlotte sighed and pulled out the offensive object and placed it onto her nose. The words became clearer, but she was wincing at the thought of having the glasses on her face. Her mother kissed her forehead and removed the empty bowl of cereal next to her laptop. "Looking at colleges, sweetie?" She asked as she dumped the bowl in the sink and turned on the faucet.
"I have to, right?" Charlotte sighed, closing the laptop and inserting it into a plain, brown case. "I need to start looking into applications like… right now."
"Yeah, but in Boston?"
Charlotte quickly stepped out of the kitchen without answering. She hated hearing the concern and sadness in her mother's voice every time the topic of colleges came up. After living all her life in the tiny town of Forks, the thought of her only daughter breaking the tradition and traveling even to the next state—let alone across the country—was something Angela Marks was not quite able to handle. Hearing that uncertainty and plea in her mother's voice only made Charlotte feel guiltier every time she even turned to the common household laptop, and that was something she didn't really need right now.
She dropped the laptop in its case onto the study-desk in her mother's room and walked back downstairs. "Hey, Mom, I need to ask Mr. Banner for a recommendation letter, so I think I'll get going to school, is that okay?"
"It's only seven-fifteen," her mom called after her from the kitchen.
"Yeah, but…" Charlotte bit her lip, contemplating telling the truth, then sighed, "I also need to talk to the office about setting up a field-trip to the Olympic Correction Center."
"Honey, you're still not going on about that stupid jail, are you?" Angela sighed, stepping out into the doorway of the kitchen with a bowl and a dish-towel between her hands.
"I think it's a good idea," Charlotte replied in a small voice, staring at the handle of her backpack between her hands. "Getting students to go down there might get them interested in volunteering and stuff and we really need more help, Mom."
"No kid in their right mind would want to spend their Saturdays with a bunch of criminals," Angela said, her lips slightly strained. "Except for you."
"It will look good on my college applications," Charlotte pointed out, trying to smile comfortingly. It was the best excuse she had and usually won her Mom over. Despite her aversion to sending Charlotte away for college, Angela did want her daughter to get into a good school and achieve all the dreams she had not been able to achieve.
She sighed. "Just… don't be disappointed when it doesn't work, okay?"
Charlotte kissed her quickly on the cheek. "Of course not. I'm just going to give it a shot, and see where it goes." She grabbed an umbrella from the peg on the wall, and walked out of the house with another farewell to her mother.
As always, the air was dense and chilly around her. She shivered slightly, digging out the keys to her car from her pocket, as she searched through the dense fog for the outline of her two-seater car. She slipped in, dropping her bag into the passenger seat, and turned the engine on. After its usual hesitant stall, the car sprung to life.
She absolutely loved Forks, she admitted. The people here were only kind, it was a beautiful and lush place despite—or due to—all the rain, and her mother had made sure she got a really good start to life here. She just wanted to make sure that the good start didn't get wasted staying here for the rest of her life. Every person in this town had been here for all or most of their life and she saw who they had become because of that and she just didn't want that happening to her. She didn't want to settle into a comfortable life with whatever small job she could get, create a family, and live happily ever after. Well… she did want to live happily ever after, but just doing something that mattered. And for that, she needed to leave Forks for at least a little while.
The high school was deserted when Charlotte pulled into the parking lot. She grabbed her bag, swinging it over one shoulder, and stepped out of the car. She walked into the first of the collection of one-storied brick buildings that made up Forks High School and found the front door to the office locked. Knowing it would be that way, she dropped onto the wooden bench placed against the wall next to the door and pulled out her latest literary pursuit—My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult.
Mrs. Cope stepped through the front doors at exactly 7:30 as she did every morning. "Oh, Charlotte, you're a little early today!"
"Hi, Mrs. Cope," Charlotte smiled at her. She placed her book back into her bag as middle-aged and absent-minded Mrs. Cope unlocked the office and stepped into it. Charlotte followed her, allowing her time to turn on the lights and get settled at the front desk.
"Now, what can I do for you today, my dear?" Mrs. Cope smiled warmly, perching her glasses on her nose. Charlotte suddenly remembered that she also had her glasses on and pulled them off quickly.
"I wanted to ask you about the field-trip to the Olympic Correction Center. I was wondering if you got a chance to talk to Principal Greene."
"Oh, yes, I did," Mrs. Cope replied enthusiastically. Charlotte liked the tone of her voice. She stepped forward, excited to hear what the principal had said. "He really liked the idea of a field-trip to the… umm… where was it to again?"
"The Olympic Correction Center," Charlotte supplied quickly, not discouraged by the fact that Mrs. Cope couldn't even remember the subject of the conversation. Principal Greene had agreed, right?!
"Right, the Olympic Correction Center," Mrs. Cope nodded, turning on the computer screen on her desk. She turned back to Charlotte with a furrow in her brow. "But… he's afraid it might not be a very popular destination with the parents."
"Oh, I understand that parents might be nervous at the beginning, but I'm sure he could convince them of the importance of visiting—"
"He's not quite sure if the board of directors will allow such a trip, my dear," Mrs. Cope interrupted with a note of sympathy in her voice.
Charlotte felt her face drop and quickly moved to recover her smile. There was still hope, she told herself. "I could speak with the board of directors personally and present them with a detailed itinerary for a potential field trip," she explained. "I could do it today if need be—"
Mrs. Cope's sympathy was turning into pity. "I'm afraid nothing can convince them, Charlotte. As the committee consists mainly of parents of children attending the school, it would take a lot to change their minds about sending their kids to a prison."
"But it's not a prison, it's a correction center," Charlotte replied desperately. "Community involvement with such a facility is so important to a successful provision of aid to those in need."
"I understand, my dear," Mrs. Cope sighed. "My husband works at the Clallam Bay Correction Center, too, but I really don't see the board bending on this."
Charlotte nodded. She had been expecting disappointment, but that didn't soften the blow. "It's okay, thank you for trying," she said to the lady with a soft smile.
Mrs. Cope bit her lip as she watched Charlotte for a few silent moments. "Okay, fine," she sighed, throwing her hands up into the air. "There is one thing you could try but I'm not sure it will even work."
Charlotte looked up, her heart racing once again. "Anything! I'll make it happen," she promised.
"You could try getting the student-body involved. If you can prove to the board that enough students are interested in this field trip to invest the money into it, and have figures of authority—like teachers—talk to them about the ups and downs of pursuing such a trip, then… the board might consider it again."
Student and faculty event. Mrs. Cope was right… it was doubtful whether such a thing could happen. After all, the reason Charlotte had suggested the idea for the field-trip was so that students might get interested in volunteering at the center after visiting it. She knew already that they weren't interested right now. It was the only chance she had, though, and she had to try. "I'll get on it right away," she told Mrs. Cope. "Thank you so much."
"No problem," Mrs. Cope replied with a warm smile. "Now, there's something I wanted to ask you."
"Mm-hmm?"
"I'm sure you've heard already that we're getting a new addition to our school this morning."
How could she have not heard it by now? She'd either have to be deaf or dead to not catch the rumors in Forks. As its population was somewhere around 3500, every piece of news from common gardening endeavors to the birth of a baby spread through town at the speed of light. Possibly the most exciting news to hit the town was the addition of a new member to their population. The arrival of the Perez's nephew, Damon Arlington from Minneapolis, Minnesota, had been hot buzz ever since Cynthia Perez announced the news to her neighbor and best friend, Angela Marks.
"As he's new to the school, Principal Greene thought it would be good to have someone show him around and who better to do that than his new neighbor and our senior class president?"
Charlotte laughed lightly at Mrs. Cope's enthusiasm, but she was already regretting this conversation. As easy as it was for her to speak to authority figures like Mrs. Cope or the school's board of directors, her heart began to race at the thought of having to entertain a stranger for an entire day at the least. Sure, everyone would probably jump at the opportunity to get introduced to a new-comer and Damon will doubtless make several other friends and leave her alone by the end of the day, but that also meant she would have to introduce him to the people first. Another huge draw-back since she barely ever talked to most of her classmates.
"He also has a few classes with you throughout the day, so that just makes it more convenient! What do you say, my dear?" Mrs. Cope asked with a hint of doubt.
"Umm… sure," Charlotte replied, trying to sound eager. "I can show him around."
"Perfect!" Mrs. Cope clapped her hands together softly. "I'm sure he'll be very grateful for your help."
Charlotte mumbled something nice and left the office. She sat back down on the bench outside, pulled out her book once again, and immersed herself between the lines during the dreaded wait for the new-comer.
The building slowly began filling around her as the time passed by. The once-quiet hallway outside the office was soon ringing with talk and laughter. Charlotte barely noticed anything as her eyes swiftly moved through the pages of her book. She was pulled out of her reverie briefly when a freshman tripped over her extended legs, having been pushed jokingly by his friend. He mumbled a quick apology, turning as red as an apple, and stumbled away with his friends, laughing. She simply sighed and returned to her book once again, flipping the page.
She realized exactly how much time had passed when the five-minute warning bell blared through the halls. She jumped slightly, realizing the hallway had almost cleared out around her, and turned her wrist over to check the time. "Crap," she whispered. She stuffed her book into her bag and jumped to her feet. She had thought Mrs. Cope would come get her when Damon arrived, but perhaps she was expecting her to check in? She felt guilty for having lost track of the time and hoped Damon hadn't been waiting in the office all this time.
There were three students in the office getting absence slips signed, requesting an announcement to be made and so on, but none of them were strangers. She stepped past the short line, apologizing quickly as the students shot her annoyed looks, and knocked on Mrs. Cope's desk to catch her attention. "Hi, Mrs. Cope, did I miss Damon?"
"Oh," Mrs. Cope blinked, looking surprised. Her eyes scanned the room quickly. "I haven't even seen him yet, dear."
"H-He didn't check in yet?" Charlotte asked confused. She checked her watch again—three and a half minutes—as the students in line made impatient noises.
"No. You best get to class, Charlotte. I'll let him know that he should find you if he comes in later."
Charlotte nodded. "Okay, sure." She turned around quickly and practically ran out of the office. She was never… ever late for class. In fact, the last time she had not been in her desk by the five-minute warning bell was three years ago when she and her mom had gotten into a terrible car accident on their way over from picking up a friend. Even then, Charlotte had made it on time to her class, falling into her chair just as the final bell rang.
But History was in the last classroom in the farthest building from the office, she thought as she stepped out of the office building. It wasn't a long walk, but she rushed to make it on time.
The parking lot was full of cars now but the grounds were deserted. "That's because everyone's in class as they should be," she muttered to herself angrily. There was a slight drizzle in the air and she ducked under the overhanging of a near-by building to avoid it. She skirted around the building and down its length to the building next to it.
She was about to enter through the back door when something caught her eye. She stopped, her hand on the doorknob, as her eyes searched the slant of the hill next to the school. The top of the hill was covered with the same thick forest that down the length of Forks and between the trees was the shadow of a figure. She stepped away from the door hesitantly, watching the distant figure.
It was a guy. And someone she did not know. Her best guess was Damon Arlington. He was wearing a black leather jacket, his backpack dumped at his feet on the ground, and look quite preoccupied with something in his hands. She turned back to the door leading to her History class, then looked up towards him. He was turned towards her, but didn't see her as he leaned against the thick trunk of a tree. She sighed and walked forward, ducking her head slightly against the rain.
"Hey," she called out as she approached him. He finally looked up with the barest hint of surprise in his light brown eyes. He quickly snapped his mouth shut causing his straight jaw to flex slightly. "Are you Damon Arlington?"
"Guilty," he replied in a low, groggy voice.
"Umm… why aren't you in school?"
She admitted the words sounded rather lame to her own ears, but wasn't expecting his rude response of, "Who are you, my mother?" stated with a mocking smile. He turned away, twirling something between his fingers. She saw that it was a cigarette.
"Did you sign in at the office?"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied.
She rolled her eyes. This really wasn't her business, but he was new and he probably didn't even know where the office was to begin with. "Mrs. Cope said she hasn't seen you yet."
"Do I know you?" He asked.
"What?"
"I mean, you're apparently spying on me and everything, and I don't even know your name."
"Charlotte… and I'm not spying on you," she scoffed, feeling her cheeks burn against the chilled air. "Mrs. Cope asked me to show you around today 'cuz you're new at school. I was supposed to wait for you at the office until you checked in but you never even showed up and now—" she checked her watch with a groan "—I'm late for class!"
"Let me guess, you're never late for class?"
Charlotte avoided his curious eyes. "No."
"That's all right," he drawled. "It's good to break your habits once in a while. Since you're late already, would you mind showing me around town instead? I completely got lost looking for your liquor store last night."
"No!" Charlotte gasped. The fact that he was still smiling in that funny way—as though he found it humorous that she was getting so offended by him—was not helping her shock at his blatancy. "Listen, I have to get to class now, so are you coming or not?"
He looked towards the school with obvious disinterest. "I'd rather rot my lungs with carcinogenic smoke than have my brains picked at by your half-assed teachers."
She pursed her lips together distastefully and crossed her arms. "Well, it's a good thing you've got a cigarette in your hand then."
"Yeah, lucky me!" he grinned, flipping the cigarette into his mouth. "Hey, you got a lighter?"
She opened her mouth to retort, but remembered the time again and decided she'd rather just leave him there. She turned on her heel and stalked away, not bothering to say good-bye. She heard a soft chuckle behind her and fisted her hands.
Forks officially was home to a 'bad boy', she thought with sympathy for Damon's aunt and uncle. She knew Margaret and Carlos very well, having taken piano lessons from the pleasant woman when she was nine. Margaret had told her of her elder sister who had married into a very affluent family and settled with her doctor-husband in Minneapolis. She always spoke so fondly of her sister, but admitted to not knowing much about her son as they don't meet up too often. Having met Damon now, Charlotte could tell that all the wealth and influence had quickly pampered him to no end. She only pitied his aunt now, having to deal with him at home.
Mrs. Belton, a usually moody and bitter woman, didn't press the issue when Charlotte quickly apologized for being late and slipped into her chair, although she was very surprised by her lateness. Perks of being one of her best students, Charlotte guessed. She continued with the lecture on the Great Depression, deaf to the whispered conversations throughout the uninterested class.
"Did you ever find the book I left at your place--?"
"I wonder what's for lunch today…"
"Isn't the new kid supposed to start at school today? Have you seen him yet?
Charlotte scowled, turning her attention back to the teacher as she began writing on the board. After all the hype going through the school about the 'new boy's' arrival, her peers were going to be sorely disappointed with the result… a kid who didn't even show up for school. How exciting! She though sarcastically.
It was fifteen minutes into the class when Mrs. Belton's monotonous voice was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. It opened the next moment and Damon peeked around it, his eyes roaming the room before they fell on the teacher. The entire class felt silent immediately, watching with baited breath as he stepped in. He held his backpack in one hand and a slip of paper in his other. He handed the latter to Mrs. Belton. His eyes slowly wandered to the front row of the classroom where Charlotte sat and she quickly turned away, focusing on her page of notes.
"Ah, yes—Mr. Arlington. I was expecting you this morning, but on time, not halfway into the class," Mrs. Belton said sharply.
Damon shrugged indifferently. "It's actually only fifteen minutes into the class… ma'am."
A sudden buzz of whispering broke out through the room, startling Charlotte. She looked up to see Damon searching the room, his eyes slightly bewildered by their reaction.
"Late is late, Mr. Arlington, and lateness is not tolerated at Forks High School."
"It was my fault, Mrs. Belton," Charlotte said quickly, surprising herself. She gulped when Mrs. Belton's shrewd eyes turned to her. She had already pushed her luck today with being late, and now she was doing it a second time. Why?! Charlotte cleared her throat, noticing that the class had fallen silent again, and pushed ahead. "I was supposed to lead Damon to his first class, but as you know, we were running late at the office, so I gave him directions, thinking they were pretty straight-forward. I guess… he got lost though."
She didn't look at Damon at all during what she thought was a terrible explanation, but Mrs. Belton gave her a sharp nod. "You can go sit down, Mr. Arlington. Just make sure you're not late to my class again."
"Thank you, ma'am," Damon said lightly. Charlotte kept her eyes centered on her notebook as he passed by her and prayed Mrs. Belton would start talking soon so that the stupid whispering would stop.