Chapter 12- Paul Passing Chemistry Makes Me a Superhero

So, obviously, my first day at La Push Tribal School isn't on the best-days-of-my-life list. I mean, things could have gone a teensy bit better. For example, I could have gotten mugged by vampires on the way to school, or maybe Quil's truck could have had a second chance at my life and crashed through the wall. Sadly, I'm not that lucky. Instead, I've found out my English teacher and my mom have had a past, I've spilled my guts out in front of all my new classmates, and God knows what they think of my uniform. I find out when some kid in the back row whistles at me, resulting in snickers among the class.

I stand there while I wait for the ringing in my ears to stop, too nauseated to think of why some kid would react like that.

"Alight, that's enough, Ryan," Ms. Bridget scolds with one of those incredibly life-threatening finger wags. But she doesn't seem to put much enthusiasm into it, like she's disciplined this particular student a million times before. Ryan has to be some kid to make Little Miss Sunshine look that aggravated, but maybe some of the blame goes to my inability to hold down breakfast.

My eyes dart back to Mr. Gilbert, who has his thin, tired face cupped miserably in his hands. I wonder if I should pull something out of daytime TV and tell him he isn't the father, but I'm not exactly sure how to bring up my mother's sex life in class.

"Dear, do you need to go see the nurse?" Ms. Bridget inquires like she's my grandma versus my high school principal.

Yeah, so I can find out the school nurse and my mom used to be keg party buddies. Dream on.

"Uh…no thank you," I manage to mutter, my face so hot even my ears are warm.

Ms. Bridget takes a long, reluctant sigh. Weirdly enough, this isn't going as nicely as she planned. "Well, I'm sure you can take it from here," she tells Mr. Gilbert with a forced grin, takes the trash can, and leaves.

At least Mr. Gilbert manages to pull himself together by the time she gets back to her office. He hands me a textbook, silently sends me to a desk in the back row, and continues with his lecture on irony. This would have been fine if I wasn't sitting across from Ryan, who keeps staring at me the same way Quil stares at bacon.

After the bell rings, I make a run for the bathroom and switch out of my uniform before I can draw any more attention to myself. Though, that doesn't seem possible. These kids seem to be giving me more than just the typical new-girl look, even for a place as dull and secluded as here. It's like I'm being judged by every pair of eyes I pass, from my clothes to my hair to the way I glimpse back at their disapproving faces. I literally check behind me to make sure a tail isn't sticking out of my jeans.

When I step into chemistry, Mrs. Raven actually gives me a small genuine smile, writes down a list of make-up assignments, and doesn't try to humiliate me in public. Since my last class was two units ahead, I think things are going to go pretty well, but, because I'm me, I get Paul as a lab partner.

"What do you think you're doing here? That's my seat!" Paul practically shouts at me after barging through the door.

I put down my chemistry book to get a good look at this guy. This is so not the day to be accusing me of chair theft. I'm from Westbridge. That means, good girl or not, if I steal something, I can guarantee you this. Number one, you'll never know it was me, and, number two; you're never getting it back.

"Nice to see you too, Paul. My day's been great. Oh, by the way, we're lab partners now, so you may want to consider shutting up. You know, before you make a complete idiot of yourself."

He glowers at me, glances around the half-filled room, and decides there are too many witnesses to throw a chair at my head. With that thought in mind, he storms over, takes the seat next to me, and, fuming, puts his head down on the desk.

All we do is take notes for about half an hour, but at the end of class, Mrs. Raven assigns us to pair up on a lab assignment. Paul has spent a very productive bell practicing how loudly he can snore and get away with it.

"Paul…Paul…Paul. Wake up!"

He slowly lifts his head up and glares at me through squinted eyes. "Just shut up, already," he grumbles. "You're smart. Well…smart enough. Figure it out."

"Excuse me?"

"Look," he begins, miraculously managing to drop his voice to a whisper. "Sam doesn't want you going out there and breaking a nail or whatever on your first day. And, believe me, the less I have to hear your voice inside my head the better, but guess who has to take the night shifts for the rest of the week? Consider this retuning the favor."

I roll my eyes and start reading the follow-up instructions on the chromatography experiment.

"I know you definitely need your beauty sleep and everything," I point out with cold resentment, "but I'm pretty sure your brain needs all the help it can get."

"You wanna start something start somethin,' little girl?" he growls. His white teeth are exposed threateningly, like he really is a wolf.

It appears that his anger at me trumps naptime, and suddenly, he's wide awake. He springs up from his chair, his dark eyes burning for a fight. His massive hands are balled into angry, trembling fists, and I think maybe instigating the incredibly thickskulled hulk wasn't the best idea I ever came up with. I knew Paul was hotheaded and everything, but he wouldn't go all wolf in the middle of class. Would he?

"Uh….yes?" I answer hesitantly, eyeing the bottle of ink on our desk. "I want you to start putting a dot of this ink on a sheet paper."I snatch it up and push it into his palm before he can react. Not being the response he was expecting, he scrutinizes the stuff like it'll blow up at any second. He turns to look back at me, the anger on his face replaced with disbelief.

"What?"

With that being said, I know exactly what to say.

"Um…well. This is a chromatography project. You see, the molecules in the stuff we see are always attracted to each other. Different materials can be attracted or repelled, depending upon the structure of their molecules. We can demonstrate the different attractive forces between substances to separate a mixture of compounds, using the ink with water as the solvent. You understand?"

He's wearing this totally blank expression that tells me I lost him after "chromatography," but for the sake of his pride, he isn't going to say that.

"Uh…sure…I guess."

I take a relieved sigh and smile up at him. "Good. Let's get to work."

Chemistry lesson of the day: Due to Paul's limited emotional capacity, his anger and confusion can't exist at the same time. Which I'm grateful for, considering the classroom isn't large enough to maintain Paul's ego, let alone his wolf form. Call me a nerd or whatever, but, for once, the whole "power of knowledge" thing actually pulled through for me.

To my complete shock, (I still can't believe it!) our lab actually turned out pretty well. It wasn't real complicated or anything, but nothing exploded; and I call that a success.

At the end of class, I'm cleaning up our table, and, expecting Paul to make a run for it, he waits back for the rest of the room to clear out.

"I've got it," I inform him, giving the sign to start towards the cafeteria. I mean, if he doesn't go now, Quil's going to inhale all of the "chili surprise" stuff I started smelling an hour ago. I'm sure he also knows that chili is well past fresh, but skipping meals with these guys seems to go against their religion.

"Good to know," Paul replies, lazily leaning back in his seat. I clench my teeth together and decide, since Mrs. Raven and the students are within Paul's safety zone, it's alright to cut the civility between us.

"What do you want then?" I ask, while collecting my books. He gets up when I do, but he doesn't make room for me to leave.

"I just wanted to say, you don't suck as much as I thought you did. Ya know. At first."

I think he's attempting to be sincere, and, with Paul, I'm not sure it will get any better than that, so I take it. Sort of.

"Thanks Paul. You don't….stink…as much as I thought you would." There. It isn't exactly true, but I'm not about to tell him that showering and deodorant don't produce the same result.

"Alight, we can cut the crap," Paul replies and takes a moment to prepare himself for what he's about to say. It ends up coming out in a rush. "I need a favor. I gotta to pass science or my dad sells my motorcycle for parts. You seem to know this stuff. Ink and molecules and everything. You keep makin' me look good in front of Raven; I'll help you out with the Sam thing."

"You mean, the wolf th-"

"Shut up, will you!" he hisses. "We don' need the whole damn school knowin' about us!"

"Sorry," I whisper back and try to maneuver my way around Paul, but he seems to be faster with his hands than with his head. When walking away doesn't seem to be an option, I look him straight in the eye and try to feel taller than I am.

"Look," I begin. "You want my help; I suggest you ask for it. Besides, I can handle Sam on my own."

He rolls his eyes and snorts. "Please. You can't even handle a broken sink."

The heat in my cheeks from first period decides to make a second appearance.

"Sweetheart, let's keep this between you and me. My motorcycle is probably worth more to me than any of my future kids. If I have to blow up this chemistry lab in order to pass-"

"I'm sorry. Did you just say you're going to reproduce? What did the world do to you?"

"How about this. You help me pass chem. I keep my motorcycle. No kids."

"So you're saying by tutoring you, I'm saving the human race?"

"Ha-ha. Real Cute. When did you become such a smartass?"

"I'm not having the best day," I protest. "A little sarcasm doesn't hurt. Besides, you need a smartass."

"Are you saying you'll do it?" Paul asks, an eyebrow rose in anticipation.

"Okay! Just…fine! I'll help you, but I'm not doing the work for you and-"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Be at my house on Tuesday. 2 o'clock."

Before I have time to respond, he's making up for lost time at the lunch room. Wondering where my don't-talk-to-anyone-normal status leaves me at lunch, I sniff my way towards the cafeteria.

That's where I see Kim again, and, after today's encounter, Jared's probably going to turn me into a chew toy.