The alarm resonated loudly in my room. My hand blindly tried to reach and turn it off, but to no avail. After three sterile attempts, I finally managed to restore silence.
I stumbled blindly to my bathroom and groaned when I saw my reflection in the mirror. Stubble all over my face, hair sticking in every possible direction and deep bluish circles under my eyes. Well if the way I look is related to how my day is gonna go, it's gonna be really bad.
I'm still not used to living in this new house, this new place. After L.A, Forks is a welcome change and a shock at the same time. After my father's death, my mom took my brother Emmett and myself back to her old parents' house because she couldn't afford paying the apartment alone. We've been here for only a week and spent the first few days helping Mom to move in. The house is big and seems almost empty since we didn't have a lot of furniture to begin with.
Emmett is 2 years younger than me and will enter Junior year while I'll try to graduate high school in a few months. After all, it's already February. My dad, ironically and tragically, died on Valentine's Day, ten days ago.
After a quick shower, I get dressed. I choose black because I don't want to be noticed, as I fear this first day at school more than anything else. You see, I'm shy. And not your regular, vanishes after a few drinks shy, no painfully shy. I've always been like this, can't explain why. That's why Dad used to spend so much time with my brother and so little with me, I guess. When you spend hours being the only one talking, it can be annoying after a while.
I enter the kitchen a few minutes later. Mom is already here, starting the coffee machine and taking out the cereals. She looks exhausted, I'm sure she hasn't slept a wink since Dad's death. Emmett is here as well and addresses me a small smile.
"Morning, sweetie." Mom says with a tired grin. "Did you sleep well?"
"Not too bad", I shrugged. My night was unimportant, even though it was filled with nightmares and uneasiness. I was more worried about her. "And you, Mom?"
"Well…" she hesitated. She didn't want to alarm us or attract attention to herself. "I've had better." She interrupted me as I was about to protest. "I'll go see a doctor, he'll give me something. Don't worry, please Edward."
"Alright, I'll try. Emmett, you ready?" My brother nods and follows me to the car.
As we ride to school, the silence inside the car is painful. As I told you, I'm not the chatty kind but Emmett used to be. He seems to have lost his lightness and what made him what he was since the accident. We arrive at school without exchanging one word.
We go to the reception desk together. Mrs Cope gives us our schedules and useful papers as well as a quite uncalled- for flirtatious smile. I don't understand why she does that. Sure Emmett can be considered as handsome (as much as his older brother can judge) but he's 15 for crying out loud! As for me, I'm almost 18 so it's less shocking but what can she possibly see in me? Women must be blind because it's happened to me lots of times.
After a short visit to Mr Banner's office, he guides us both to our classes, first Emmett then me. As we're about to enter, I see the eyes of a boy on me. He watches me with an air of arrogance and superiority. He seems on his way out, though. I lower my eyes, already embarrassed.
The principal introduces me to the teacher and the class. It's excruciating, all silent and indifferent. Suddenly, a warm and husky voice bursts the cold bubble. It's the teacher, telling me to sit close to her desk. I obey, blind and grateful.
She stands and tries to launch the students in a study of a Baudelaire poem. I hope it's "A la passante", it's my favorite…Yes!
None of the others wants to read and then, she hesitantly asks me. My reserve evaporates, this is what I'm good at. Last summer, in Paris, I was so happy and passionate about my classes. It was the first and only time I enjoyed school, actually.
I read in a steady voice and don't trip over the words. The teacher sounds impressed and ask if I studied this particular poem before. I know I have to answer and, not wanting to be rude, I raise my eyes to look at her.
My heart explodes. The most gorgeous and sensual creature is in front of me and I want to slap myself for not seeing her sooner. Everything about her is beautiful but, even more than her body or luscious hair, I seem to lose myself in her eyes. I'm blinded by their magnificence and have to look down again. I just can't stand them on me, it's too much.
At the end of class, Ms Swan, that's her name, stays for a few minutes to clean up the room and organize her work. I put away my stuff as slowly as I can. It's not entirely an act to spend more time with her, her perfume makes me pleasantly dizzy. A floral and subtle scent, so different from the J LO cheap colognes girls my age wear.
As I finally stand up and find the courage to thank her for her class, I expect nothing. But then, she answers me with that voice of hers and I find myself unexpectedly hard. I flee from the class.
You see, I never swear. But after I manage to breathe normally again, I know I'm fucking in love with my teacher and in a fucking desperate situation.
I'm early, please review! Next chapter as soon as my crazy life allows…
