Disclaimer: Characters belong to SM
March, 2012
~18~
Friday passes by with pointed looks, whispers, and threatening messages pushed into my locker.
It's uncreative and predictable, really.
I manage to avoid Jasper the entire day, only hanging around Ben and Angela or just myself. I still haven't talked to Jacob—or any of the La Push boys— and I really don't know what to say. Was Alice just a fling for Jacob? Did he have feelings for her? Did she have feelings for him?
Yeah, not a conversation I want to be having anytime soon.
The weekend sees me in a boat with Dad, fishing. Although fishing isn't exactly what I would call fun, it's something that Dad enjoys, and I enjoy being with him. He says he does it to let go of all the tension from the previous week, and I try to embrace that.
I still can't understand what all of this means. Why Carlisle was threatening my mom. Why Jasper has all of a sudden decided to make it his mission to be friends with me. Hell, I'm still not sure what Edward's reason was for breaking up with me. And the question taking up the most room in my head is why I never knew about Carlisle and Renee, about their relationship.
I look over to my dad and wish I could explain it all to him, get his take on it. But the photographs are not something that I can share with him. And I don't particularly want to be discussing people like Edward or Jasper with Dad either.
Dad hates Jasper.
Maybe it's because of the all the tears I cried back in September. Dad didn't know why I was upset and wondered where my friends were. With Jasper having a prominent place in that category in previous years, Dad blamed him for deserting me.
Dad still doesn't know what had caused my anguish back in September. Only I do.
Or perhaps Dad hates Jasper because of the times he caught him drinking and driving this year, and how Jasper's father got him out of the charges. Yeah, that shit really pisses Dad off.
So I sit, resigned to the silence, on the old fishing boat with questions still swimming through my head.
~SW~
Standing at my locker on Monday, I am enjoying the peace and quiet my spare period offers me. With mostly everyone else in classes, the hallways are empty and silent.
I close my locker door, preparing to go sit in the library with my book that has to be read for English class this afternoon. Footsteps approach me from behind, and I turn to see Jasper walking by. He waves, and I reluctantly wave back.
~SW~
With my arms full of boxes, as I have been commissioned to carry all of the cameras the school owns from the locked supply room to my journalism classroom, I can barely make out what is ahead of me as I navigate my way through the school.
All of a sudden, my feet trip over something and I tumble forward. My legs twist, turning me, and I fall backwards to the tiled floor, my head hitting it with a sickening blow. The boxes I had been carrying fall all around me or on top of me. My vision starts to blacken around the edges, and sounds seem to be coming through a long tunnel.
Two girls swim in front of me, and I can barely make out their wide smiles. Maria Soparlo and Jessica Stanley. Figures.
My last thought is of the potential damage the cameras endured before I black out.