A New Dawn
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and its characters. No copyright infringement intended.
The rest is mine.
Chapter Six
I didn't receive a real punishment. Well, I almost didn't.
The principal agreed McCarthy and Whitlock never should have been near me. Unfortunately, you can't just go around beating people's faces in and accept no consequences regardless of the situation.
Plus, McCarthy claimed he meant me no harm but could understand why I did what I did which earned him brownie points with Principal Mallory for taking the blame.
Bastards.
Guess I can't complain too much, though; I got off easy. All I had to do was spend a few weeks in this tutoring program being a student tutor, helping other students with their homework and what not which would be pretty easy for me which is why Principal Mallory chose this as my "punishment". I could only hope I didn't have to tutor any of the fuckers from my past.
Punching Emmett in the face was totally worth it.
McCarthy and Whitlock were given ISS (in school suspension) for a week and were assigned to help a few teachers after school with grading papers and lame shit. On top of that, they had to personally apologize to me much to my dismay.
I didn't want their apologies. I simply wanted them to fuck off.
Okay, so maybe I overreacted a little . . .
Maybe I shouldn't have taken the violence to the level I did.
And so maybe I went a little ape shit.
And so maybe McCarthy got a few cuts and bruises; I'd gotten plenty at the expense of him and the gang.
I didn't regret what I did. I mean, I'd be lying to myself if I said it didn't feel kind of good.
Yeah, I shocked myself with what I'd done, and if I was honest with myself, I didn't know I had it in me.
I had all this pent up anger towards them, and I honestly think I got just a little of it out by beating the shit out of Emmett McCarthy's face. Is that sick or what?
I did the whole therapy thing after I had my breaking point when I went to stay with Renee and Phil. I mean real therapy with a real therapist who owned a real leather couch you laid back on and told all your problems on.
It didn't help much.
I think the main reason it didn't work is because once I asked her how a person stopped being so angry at someone…
She said forgiveness.
Yeah, right.
Pfft.
I wasn't the forgiving type.
I held grudges, and maybe that was my big problem. Maybe that's why I had all this built up resentment and anger. And just maybe forgiveness, true forgiveness was the solution to end the whole thing.
Forgiveness, though. That was the hard road.
The easy one was ignoring the problem till it went away.
That's what I was doing, taking the easy road.
~*AND*~
I waited in the cafeteria after school like I was supposed to at a round table with a white piece of paper that read 'literature' in black Sharpie in capital letters taped to the front so they would know which table to go to.
I continued to wait…and wait.
And then wait some more.
No such luck.
Where are these fuckers?
I glanced at my watch, noting it was already 3:42 p.m.
Tutoring started twelve minutes ago…
The cafeteria was pretty much empty save for a few other student tutors whose students had already showed up.
I cursed under my breath.
This was ridiculous. I had to waste my own time on this shit, and none of them could even have the decency to show up.
I sat there, sulking until it occurred to me this was a good thing. I didn't want to tutor anyone, so if no one showed up then it was all the better for me.
My job was to tutor them not track them down and make them show up.
I couldn't make them do anything.
As the minutes ticked by, I checked my watch again, sighing as I realized it was drawing closer to four in the afternoon, so I started packing up my stuff when he came stumbling into the cafeteria.
His hair was wild, his green eyes ablaze, his face flushed with embarrassment. So, there it was; his face. The face I'd avoided at all costs for the past near two weeks.
Cullen.
He hadn't changed much; intense green eyes, unmistakable wild bronze hair. I found myself thinking back to my freshman year when I'd first seen him. I'd had an enormous crush on him instantly.
I remembered thinking that surely he must have been an angel of some sort. Mortal men were not so beautiful if a man can even be described as such.
But it was foolish.
Angels were not evil.
He scanned the cafeteria, and my worst fears were realized as his eyes stopped their search as they landed on my table. He glanced at the sign hanging off my table and headed in my direction.
Oh, great. Just what I need.
I grimaced internally, but I didn't give anything away on the outside though. I didn't let my eyes bulge out of my head or let my legs pick me up and take off for the hills.
I remained seated, trying my best not to glare at him or give him all the dirty looks I had stored up for him.
This could not possibly be happening. Was my luck really that shitty?
"Hello," he said quietly, his voice almost musical, as he reached my table, keeping his eyes on the ground and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
For a serious moment, I considered just getting up and leaving, but I didn't. I couldn't.
"You're here for tutoring?" I finally asked flatly when he said nothing else.
His eyes shot to mine, his face flushed. "Um, yes," he replied quietly.
"You're late," I stated bluntly. It was past four.
So he's irresponsible. What a surprise.
"Yes, I know. I'm sorry. I thought I could get a few laps in, but I lost track of time," he explained.
"Laps?" I inquired before I could stop myself.
He looked as surprised as I felt about my curiosity. "Uh, yeah. I'm the swim team captain."
I resisted the enormous urge to roll my eyes.
Of course.
I pulled out my English textbook and waited, but he just stood there looking nervous.
"Are you going to sit down or what?" I snapped irritably, my voice anything but friendly.
"Oh, yes. Of course," he said immediately as if he'd just been snapped back to reality, appearing flustered as he pulled out the chair beside me and had a seat.
Too close for comfort, I thought as I scooted my chair away a little.
He noticed this and frowned.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Bella, umm, you don't have to tutor me. Uh, I can find someone else," he said awkwardly.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm the only literature tutor. It's my punishment for the McCarthy thing," I explained, my voice low.
The corners of his lips turned up. "I saw your handy work. Very nice," he commented, sounding very amused.
I glared at him. "Wanna be next?"
All humor drained from his face.
"Let's get started," I said through gritted teeth, opening the textbook.
"Um, okay. I could use some help on an essay I have to write. You like Romeo and Juliet, right? I always saw you reading Shakespeare . . ." he trailed off quietly.
"Yeah, fine," I said shortly.
This was pure torture. I had to help Cullen with his essay. I'd rather watch him fail.
I saw him frown again out of the corner of my eye.
"Bella, I—I know I owe you so much more than an apology, and—"
"No," I said lowly, looking down at the textbook in front of me.
He continued anyway as if he hadn't heard me. "I know that you hate me. There's no question about it. I understand that you—"
"No," I said louder, cutting him off again, looking up at him and glaring. "I said no. I'm here because I have to be. I pummeled Emmett McCarthy's face in and now I have to deal with the consequences of that, that's the only reason I'm here right now. My only regret is I didn't get to do the same to Whitlock. This isn't some ploy. This is not some strategy to make you sweat. I don't want anything to do with you or your friends," I sneered.
He opened his mouth to say something, but I gave him a warning glare, and he seemed to get the message as he snapped his mouth shut again.
"You will not come here and use this lame punishment Principal Mallory gave me as a way to trap me here to listen to you," I snapped. "It's bad enough I have to help you of all people, I would rather do anything else, but I don't really have a choice, do I? You will not hold me hostage, understand?"
His mouth hung open a little in shock, but he nodded.
I glanced at my watch. "Time's up."
"It's only four-twenty. We still have twenty minutes left!" he called after me.
I ignored him as I stormed out of the cafeteria.
Fuck you, Edward Cullen, I thought bitterly. This is not going to happen, it can't.
I was not, under any circumstances, helping Edward Cullen.
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