Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or anything to do with it, however the OC's are all my own. The concept of Jasper being the 'God of War' is something that I've read in a few fics, but I don't know where it originates, so I'm sorry for not giving credit where credit's due! Plus, I have no idea what Louisiana, or Wisconsin are like - I'm from England, so please, forgive any mistakes. Have a great day, and I love you guys!
Camilla POV
July 2020
Madison, Wisconsin
Glancing up, I noticed that the large four-faced analogue clock in the centre of the Sherman Plaza read quarter to seven in the evening, and I felt the fatigue settle in deeply in my bones. I wasn't tired when I left the house, even after the tediously long bus ride to our home, however after doing a little bit of shopping, I felt as though the weight of the world was pressing on my shoulders. Placing the many shopping bags that I had accumulated over the last hour and a half on the floor, I settled myself down on the side of a fountain, and sipped from the bottle of water in my hands. I needed to sleep, and soon. I felt as though I could spend the next two months doing nothing but sleep, and I wouldn't have gotten enough.
My stomach growled, loudly, and my head was stinging, an intense pinging in the side of my cranium was begging me to close my eyes, if only for a moment, to quell the fatigue bubbling inside of my body.
Steeling my resolve, I gathered the total of nine shopping bags back into my tickled pink palms, and strolled outside, noticing that the sky was a strange shade of navy, especially considering it was in the middle of Summer, so it should have at least been a little bit lighter, even at this time of evening. I groaned at the tell-tale signs of rain, and wondered, idly, if I had pissed someone upstairs off, because I didn't see why this kind of weather should be occurring right now. The weather was chilly, settling my ones, and making me shiver, if only slightly.
Cautiously, I raised my hand out into the street, hoping against hope that a cab would stop for me, and sure enough, I was barely waiting a minute before a yellow and black vehicle pulled up next to me. Just before I slid in, however, I caught a flash of jet black hair a few metres away from me, as they shuffled into the front seat of an ostentatious-looking bright yellow 911 2010 antique Turbo Porsche; the only reason why I even knew what type of car it was is because my brother had a vehicle obsession.
It was sickening.
Honestly, I couldn't see the driver, besides the cropped short, pixie-like locks, however I knew they were a 'she', and had wide, circular sunglasses obscuring the colour of her eyes, although the features that I could see were entirely elfin, and beautiful. She slid into the driver's seat of the car, and promptly drove off; seeming unaware of my ogling her. It wasn't sexual, but damn, I could see that she was gorgeous. Hell, a blind man could probably feel the beauty radiating off of her skin.
Was everyone here this beautiful? Because if so, then maybe I might not enjoy it as much as I had previously thought. It was then that the cabby bibbed the horn, annoyed, and I threw myself into the backseat, before sounding off, "1456 North Dakota Avenue, please," and he abruptly drove off in that direction, without even so much as a glance back in my direction.
-0-
"So how was your trip, cher?," Clyde asked from the dining room table, while he was eating, unsurprisingly, and I grinned at him, before replying, "It was great, as a matter of fact. I got what I needed, what about your car search?"
His eyes glittered, excitedly, and he replied, "Yep, I got a pretty sweet car, it's in the shop at the minute, but I pick it up next week. Only 19 grand, too, it was a pretty sweet deal," to which I raised an eyebrow, and I pushed, excitedly, "What kind of car?"
He reclined in the seat, crossing his arms across his chest, and remarked, "Silver Camaro Coupe," while his emerald eyes shone as he pressed, mischievously, "You gonna find a bike anytime soon?"
That was a question that caught my attention and I looked at him, vacantly for a moment, before answering, "I.. I don't know. Maybe car would be.. Better?," and this time it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. He asked, "Do you think it suits you? I mean, you've never been a 'car' kinda gal, so I don't see why you'd start now," and he shrugged, as if he were commenting on the now-abysmal weather. I growled, under my breath, and replied, "Listen, I might not be a 'car' kinda gal, but I can try, cant I? New city, new changes, right? I just.. I don't know."
Quickly, he brushed it off by saying, dismissively, "Look, it's a car, not the end of the world, cher, do what you want wit' it, and be yourself."
That did little to quell my rising anxiety, which seemed to appear out of fucking nowhere. I knew it was going to eventually hit me, but Jesus, it felt like a freight train just collided with my chest, punching a hole straight through it. It wasn't at all enjoyable, and I felt sick to my stomach.
"Hey.. Cher, you okay? You don't look so hot," and as he disregarded his meal, he walked over to me, and rubbed my shoulders, consolingly, before kissing my forehead when I couldn't find the will to reply. I dug my face further into his chest, and cried, "What if I mess this up, Clyde?"
"You wont mess anythin' up, cher, you'll be fine!," and he ruffled my hair, lovingly, before returning back to his food, and leaving me to my own devices.
-0-
We spent the following two months basically getting to know our neighbours, and the people in our immediate vicinity, and I found that the city wasn't as boring as I had first pegged it. As a matter of fact, it was pretty cool, if I looked past the freezing fucking weather. I swear, I was lucky to catch a total of, maybe, three hours or so under the sun a day, and even then, it was that mediocre kind of heat that prompted you to just retire back to your bedroom in disappointment.
Thankfully, I found a motorcycle that I fell in love with, at first sight, even though it was a little on the expensive side - nearly $3750, although it was a remodelled Kawasaki X579 Turbo, so I guess it was worth it. The seat and the handle bars automatically heated, and the paint job was top-notch, with barely a scratch on any of her perfectly proportioned curves. She rode like a superstar, and I fit on top of her like a glove.
Clyde and I were sent our timetables in the post, after our results to our SAT examinations were sent to them, and they were as such. Mine was:
Monday: AP Chemistry, Spanish II, AP History
Tuesday: English Literature, Gym, AP Music
Wednesday: AP Music, Spanish II, AP Chemistry
Thursday: English Literature , AP History , Gym
Friday: Spanish II, English Literature, AP Music
Where as Clyde's went something like this:
Monday: AP Chemistry, French, AP History
Tuesday: English, Gym, Calculus
Wednesday: AP Calculus, French, AP Chemistry
Thursday: English , AP History, Gym,
Friday: French, English, AP Calculus
Our classes corresponded in some ways, although I was glad that they differed in some ways, because, honestly, I wouldn't be able to deal with Clyde all day, in every single classroom, every day for the next two years. I loved him, but good God, I wasn't an idiot. July came and went, like a fickle breeze, our birthday passing so quickly that even I couldn't comprehend what it meant to finally be 17. We were sent presents from our mother; of which Clyde outright refused to open, and therefore I had to do his, as well as my own. Our dad had gotten us new phones, and each a few pairs of shoes; Doc Martens and Vans for me and a multitude of leather Converse for Clyde. We both had our modes of transportation, and enough money to tide us over for the next few months, so really, all in all, we were set.
August drew up her weary head, dragging Autumn behind, bringing with it leaves tinged with red as well as bitter edge to the wind, however we braced through it, and August rolled away, departing us like an old friend. This brings us to our catch 22, as it's now Sunday 4th September 2020, and Clyde and I were scheduled to begin our junior year of high school at Madison High - aka the day in which my soul would be forced from my body, and I would die a cold, lonely death.
Okay, so maybe I was overreacting, but still!
The fact remains, high school is fucking horrifying, and for a girl like me, a person who has never made proper girlfriends, or friends in fucking general, it was terrifying. The stares, the whispers, the glaringly obvious curiosity that would swarm us everywhere we went, simply because we were the 'new kids' was enough to have me hyperventilating in my bedroom. The closer I got to the time where I had to leave, the less I wanted to go, and it was becoming a problem.
-0-
Morning of 5th September 2020
The blaring of my alarm alerted me to my doom, and, begrudgingly, I dragged myself out of bed, and hefted my lazy ass into the shower, hoping that the spray would eventually drown me. I washed my hair, brushed my teeth and cleaned my face all beneath the showerhead, to save time, of which it did. After wrapping my body with a thick towel, I padded back into my bedroom, passing my bleary-eyed brother, and knocked on my dad's door, before Clyde mumbled, tiredly, "He's at work."
I glanced at him, however he had already closed the door behind him, and I heard the shower turn on, effectively shutting down any kind of conversation. He was not a morning person, even though he usually gets up so fuckin' early. I walked into my bedroom, and thanked God for the automatic heaters that graced our house with its presence. After towel drying my hair, as well as my body, I pulled on a pair of clean black underwear, however as I had decided on wearing a pair of leggings, I would have to wear a thong. Christ, they were uncomfortable! I pulled a white thin, oversized short-sleeved, bat-winged tee over my shoulders, and a pair of leather-look leggings onto my body. I blow dried my tresses, however I didn't run anything through it, besides the serum that kept it from frizzing throughout the day, and pushed a black cotton beanie atop my head, covering the tops of my ears.
I pulled on the pair of black floral Doc's that my dad bought me a month and a half ago, and a leather jacket over the tee initially, just in case the weather decided to be an asshole today.
Quickly, I ran a facial wipe over my face, as rubbed in a small glob of tinted moisturiser onto my the skin of my face and neck, along with a thin layer of mascara onto my lashes, simply to curl them a little, and my wide-framed black glasses onto my nose. I rubbed some lip chap onto my mouth, and stared at my reflection before smiling at myself, content with the look all in all. I rolled on a bit of deodorant, and checked the time on my phone, seeing it was ten past 8 already.
"Shit!," I yelped, and grabbed my backpack, as well as pulling my phone from its charger port, and my overhead headphones, and banged on my brothers door, loudly, with a cheeky grin on my face, to which he groaned, and threw it open, while biting out, "What. Do. You. Want?!"
Impatiently, I tapped my wrist, to indicate an imaginary watch, and he looked over at his digital clock by his bedside, and whined, "Shit.. Alright, let's go, cher," and grabbed his keys, and shoved them into his pockets. He had on a pair of dark coloured denim jeans, a form-fitting grey tee, and a leather jacket, much larger and tighter against his body than my own. He nudged my shoulder, his face looking a million times more lively than it was beforehand, and I was glad that he was feeling better. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, while I pulled an apple from the circular fruit bowl in the centre of the sideboard, as well as my own water bottle.
We slid into his Coupe, and before the clock struck 8:30, we were on our way to our - or more appropriately my doom.