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Death to the Non-Believer
Chapter 5
"So how are you liking Forks? Bella? …Bella?"
"Huh?" I had tuned out Mike so well that I barely remembered he was talking to me. I felt a little guilty. After all, he was showing me the way to gym class (thankfully the last of the day), which was very kind of him. My obvious inattention apparently did little to deter him.
"How are you liking Forks?" he repeated with a 50-watt smile.
"A lot, actually," I answered honestly. "It's nice and cold here. And I love the grey…" I looked up and the swirling, cloudy sky, and my heart leapt. "Ahhh…" I closed my eyes and smiled. I loved the rainy, overcast, cold and grey. It made me feel calm and happy and wonderful. And if nothing else, Forks was full of that. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Mike was staring at me, a somewhat pleased expression on his face. It sobered me instantly.
"Uh, yeah, so what about you, Mike?"
"Huh?"
"Um, like… do you like the weather… in Forks?" Even though I was genuinely interested in what type of weather people preferred, I always felt a little ridiculous falling into the cliché.
"Oh. Well, yeah, it's not bad. I lived in California till I was ten, though, so I guess I'm more of a sunshine guy at heart."
"California? No way!" Who knew that real people from real places could find their way to this spec of a town? "Norcal or Socal?"
"Southern California. Eagle Rock. I guess you've never heard of it—"
"EAGLE ROCK??" I could tell as he twitched back that I had startled him with my sudden outburst. It occurred to me that the real Bella was probably a little more shy than I was. Like maybe, say, about a billion times more. "Dude," (the real Bella probably didn't use 'dude', either), "I lived in Pasadena!" I said excitedly, naming a city just minutes away from Eagle Rock.
"I… I thought you lived in Phoenix?" My excitement vanished.
"Er, well, yeah, I mean, I did, but I uh, went to Pasadena every summer and holidays and stuff, so uh, it feels like I lived there. Pretty much." I was getting better at thinking on my feet. Hopefully Mike wouldn't realize my story's obvious loophole, which I remembered only after I'd finished: surely Bella spent her summers here, in Forks? With her father? And some childhood friends or something…
"Oh, yeah, I know how that goes." Mike smiled somewhat apologetically. He wasn't my type, but he did seem awfully sweet. Especially compared to some of the other Forks residents I'd met that day…
"So, are you sure you didn't stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or something?" Speak of the devil. "I've never seen him act like that, even if he did smell, heh. Did you make a face at him or something? He looked pissed." Oh, no, this line of questioning wouldn't do at all.
"The boy I sat next to in Biology?" I asked dumbly, "I dunno, he was trying to stay away from me but…"
We reached the front of a large, round-topped structure which could only be the gym building, and turned towards an old hanging sign with "Locker" scrawled across it.
"It was more than that though, he looked like he was in pain or something." Maybe Mike Newton was sharper than his written description and puppy dog demeanor had led me to believe. Or maybe he was just too thick to realize that his prodding could be seen as rude. Not that I minded. I just didn't want to blow it, and I was still in a less-than-ideal state of jitters after my Biology lesson of DEATH.
"Well, I was kind of trying to distance myself, you know, maybe he noticed that. I hope I didn't hurt his feelings," I half-lied. I'd lied more in the last few hours than I had in the last year combined.
"He's a weird guy," Mike supplied, pausing for a long moment against the wall at the entrance to the locker rooms. He dropped his voice and leaned towards me. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."
I don't know what my reply would have been, because he looked down, and turned and made his escape into the boys' locker room. I was left standing blushing and a bit stunned for a moment, blocking the door to the girls' locker. Mike was nice, but he still gave me the urge to pat his head like a puppy.
I turned to wander into the locker room when a huge hand gripped my shoulder, straining like it was going to detach from my body. I had done it. I'd let myself be alone. I'd assumed that, given the chance, Edward would have vanished by now. It didn't occur to me that he might have merely been stalking me from the shadows. I clenched my eyes shut, as if the strike would only hurt if I could see it coming.
"Isabella Swan?" My eyes popped open again. "That's you, right?" I spun round as the pressure on my shoulder eased. I was looking into the chest of a large, burly man with greying hair who looked like he had stepped out of a Texas high school football documentary. He had matching red warm-ups, whistle, and cap that said "Ball it or Beat it" in white stitching across the front. His beer belly under all that red made him look like a Santa trainee.
"Are you Isabella Swan?"
"Bella," I corrected automatically, and was suddenly unnerved. I didn't want people calling me Isabella or Bella.
"All right, follow me, we'll get you a uniform today, and you can wash it when you get home and bring it to wear tomorrow. Just take study period on the benches today." I was a little disappointed that he didn't have either a Midwestern-military-coach accent or a bowl-full-of-jelly laugh. I was even more disappointed when I climbed the bleachers to find volleyball nets set up on the polished courts below. Volleyball was one of my favorites – I played varsity… back home. Or should I say back in the real world? I shook my head and dug in my bag for my trig binder. I could contemplate the existentialism of my situation when I got home. Bella's home. Bella, I told myself, not me.
I wondered if I would even have been able to play volleyball in Bella's body anyway: she was significantly shorter than the real me, and though she wasn't out of shape, she was… squishy. She didn't seem to have an entire ounce of muscle in her whole body. Not to mention the fact that she was an infamous klutz, one of the few things the real Bella and I shared. I wondered how much of my coordination would be transferred to Bella while I inhabited her, or if it was just my consciousness. What was something I would know that Bella wouldn't? I tried to think…
"If y=x3, then y'=3x2…" If my calculus knowledge was still there, I was betting all of my brain was.
But if it was my mind and not Bella's, why couldn't Edward access it? Where was the line between real-me and Bella-me drawn? I looked at my – at Bella's – scrawny arms and flat chest, I tugged on her thick brown hair with her tiny slender fingers. I was definitely not in my body. This was Bella's flesh and (unfortunately) blood. I gave up completely on trig, and pulled out a pen: I knew how to twirl a pen, the same way Jonny Depp flips the coin between his fingers in Pirates of the Caribbean: not a common skill. I put the pen between my fingers and began. I stuck my tongue out in concentration. It was difficult, but not impossible, so I wasn't as spastic as Bella, but I still wasn't quite myself, either. Maybe my experience added to Bella's total lack of coordination made for a muddled middle ground of potential. It made sense. If anything that had happened today could possibly be said to make sense.
The bell rang and I half leapt out of my seat, caught off-guard in my little experiment. Spacing. Out. STOP IT. I began zipping up my pencil bag and noticed the forgotten little pink slip peeking out from behind a highlighter. I pulled it out as Mike came trotting up the bleachers. Maybe I should-
"Hey, Bella, not feeling well?" he asked sympathetically.
"Aw, no, I just don't have a P.E. uniform yet."
"Oh, good, then-"
"Hey Mike, sorry, I gotta drop this off," I interrupted, brandishing the paper. "Could you point me towards the office?" He looked slightly crestfallen.
"Yeah, sure, come with me, I'm parked that way anyway."
"Great, thanks," I smiled over my shoulder, stuffing the rest of my things into my bag before swinging it over one arm and following him towards the double-doors. I wondered if P.E. was a requirement. "Hey, do you guys have, like, sports teams here?" I asked as I followed at his heels.
"Oh… You mean like football and stuff?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah, we do."
"Oh, great!" I breathed as we stepped out into a light drizzle. God, I loved the weather in Forks. "Maybe I can do Swim or something instead of P.E. then. Do you know who the coach is? Maybe after I go to the office I can-" the look on his face stopped me. "What?"
"Well, we don't have a Swim coach," he said gently.
"Well, that's silly, how can you have a team without a… oh." I frowned. "But I thought you said Forks had sports teams and stuff!"
"Uh, well, we have football." Apparently 'and stuff' had no semantic value within the borders of Forks.
"Oh. Well… well that SUCKS," I pouted. I'd been doing sports year round since 8th grade. I didn't like the idea of being relegated to P.E. "Not that I should be surprised…" I mumbled under my breath.
"What was that, Bella?"
"Oh, nothing," I sighed with false cheer. Small towns, small schools: hard to get a lot of teams together, I supposed. Not that they would have anyone to play anyway, out here in the middle of Nowheresville, Washington. "Oh, hey, I can see the office. I can make it from here. Thanks a million, Mike!" I ran off through the wind towards the little beige building before he could offer to carry my books or give me a ride or whatever else. I'd already taken up enough of his time. I gripped the cold metal handle of the main door and stood with it open for a moment, trying to scrape and tap the mud and moisture off the bottom of my shoes.
"Maybe you should talk to your parents about that," said the lady behind the counter. I looked up and saw she was already helping another student, so I continued tap-tapping my boots before stepping inside.
"Please, Mrs. Cope?" Oh, whoever it was, I liked his voice. It was smooth – deep but also light, and a little scratchy at the bottom. I gave a little smirk. Hopefully the speaker would be as attractive as his voice. "Isn't there some other section I could switch to?" he continued. "I'm sure there has to be another slot somewhere? Sixth hour biology can't be the only option…"
I froze, my heart drumming in my chest. I looked up from my shoes to stare at a broad back and familiar tousled copper hair. Apparently Bella and I also shared our phenomenally horrible luck. But seconds ticked by, and Edward didn't try to rip my throat out, or even turn around. Maybe I was down-wind (or down-fan) of him. I spun silently on my heel towards the door.
"Well, maybe I could talk to Bob," continued the suspiciously appeasing office woman, "I mean Mr. Banner." Her flirty laugh covered the click of the knob as I grasped and turned it, sweating bullets. "I could see if-"
"AGHHH!"
"WAHHH!"
I screamed, and the girl screamed, and the receptionist gave a little "oh!" as the door swung open on me and hit me in the face with a loud kuh-thonk, unleashing a blast of cool air that swept through the tiny office. The clueless girl on the other side walked through and immediately started yelling sorry over and over. She didn't know how sorry she was going to be.
I ignored her fussing and turned to look at Edward. He continued to look away from me, hands white-knuckled as they balled into fists at his sides. It was hard to believe that I was staring at the same back, the same person as I had been just heartbeats before. Every line of his body was screaming violent constraint. Or maybe the screaming was me, in my head. Please, God, I prayed, PLEASE don't let me have a nosebleed!!!
My face throbbed, and for a flash my eyes rolled back in my head. I was not going to pass out and bleed on the floor in the room with Edward freaking I-want-to-suck-you-dry-like-a-Caprisun-pack Cullen! I pinched my nose closed and tilted it upward, holding my breath, begging the God, my life, the universe tojust once, just this once, give me a little bit of luck and let Edward Cullen walk out of the office. Without killing anyone. That part was really important. Careful what you wish for.
As if I'd called him, Edward turned, excruciatingly slow, and glared at me. Maybe he could read my mind. I felt my arms and legs break out in goosebumbs, and fought not to shudder, faint, or – worst of all – bleed. He stared for just a fraction of a second, and then turned back to the counter so suddenly it hurt my neck to even watch.
"Never mind, then," he said in a clipped voice, much more angry but no less suave than before. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." Before she could reply, he rotated on his heel, and stormed past me without giving me so much as a backward glance; then he was suddenly out the door and gone.
I sat, unable to move for the second time that day, for several long minutes, as the door-assailant continued to coo over me in a panic, totally unaware of how close we had all come to meet our maker because she had to man-handle the damn door. I think my continued silence was starting to make her think she'd damaged my brain.
The receptionist stood up then, suddenly aware of my predicament without Edward to enthrall her. My nose wasn't bleeding, but the steadily worsening throb in my nose and cheeks told me I was going to have a big, stupid-looking bruise plastered across the middle of my face. Though compared to agonizing death by dismemberment and devouring, a giant stupid bruise was certainly an upgrade.
"How did your first day go, dear?" the oblivious office woman asked in a motherly tone. I stared at her in stunned disbelief.
"Fine," I answered with a sarcastically sweet smile. She didn't look convinced.
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A/N: I finished a whole chapter in one day! YAY ME. Haha. Just wanted to say THANKS SO MUCH GUYS. All your emails and comments have really been making my day lately. And a special thank you to S.K., who provided me with copies of the ENTIRE Twilight series!! I LOVE YOU!!!