I sprung up from my bed, miraculously to the sound of an alarm clock rather than to my own shrieking voice. I scanned my thoughts for the remnants of my dream, but instead, just found myself well rested, not at all tired, and not frightened. I felt strengthened. I got ready in record time, and ate breakfast, quite a change to my normal habit of skipping it. I packed a lunch, another abnormality. Often I didn't even eat lunch, I hid in the bathroom.
I turned on the radio on my way to school, rolled down the windows, feeling oddly free for once since my life became a living hell. I pulled into my usual area to park in, realizing I had been singing to myself on the way over. I giggled, a foreign sound to my saddened ears. I slung my backpack over my should, and walked into school with an aura of confidence I hadn't felt in some time. I waved at some of my friends as I passed them in the halls, heading to my locker to drop some things off. I went to the cafeteria next, the morning hangout of Rosalie and the other bunch. She had pestered my about how I never came to talk to her anymore. I walked in and she shrieked, "Alice!" I smiled and went over. I dropped my backpack at the table where no one sat, the backpack graveyard it looked like.
"Come to my locker with me," she said with extreme enthusiasm. She smiled and grabbed my arm, towing my off towards the senior hallway. She must have had coffee already. She was always overly enthusiastic when she had her coffee in the morning. "So how've you been girl? You hardly text anymore and this is the first time you've been to the cafeteria in like forever!"
"Same old same old. Trying to get through these intense classes."
"Oh I know! Senior year is not easy! I'm taking honors government and it's horrible..." She kept on, and I half listened. She drug me over to the junior hall too, walking to a teacher of hers from last her she wanted to say hi to.
"Hey Alice," I heard, but it didn't register with my brain. I just kept walking with Rosalie. "You know someone just said your name right?" Rosalie said nudging my shoulder.
"Wha-?" I turned around and saw none other than James, poking out of a classroom.
"I didn't know you ran!" He said, smiling and sauntering over.
"Yeah... I do cross country. But I hate running."
"OMG is ms. Stanford the bitch your coach?" Rosalie asked, wide eyes. "She's so awful!" I laughed.
"Yes she is, and she is pretty bad."
"Well I'll see you in English cutie." I blushed and Rosalie and I continued down the hall, while James retreated the other direction.
"Who is that? Do you like him? How old is he? Have you talked much? Why did he call you cutie?" Rosalie interrogated as soon as she thought we were far enough away.
"He's James Brandon, he's in my english class, I don't know how old he is, we talked during english and on facebook, and he just kinda called my that. Did I get all your questions?"
"Do you like him? Are you still with Jesse?" Her rapid fire continued, and I was thankful she was so absorbed in her questioning that she didn't see me wince when she mentioned Jesse.
"I barely know him."
"So what?! Love at first sight doll. He seems into you." She winked. "Maybe you could get some since gay-boy was, well gay as shit." I laughed. She always said Jesse was gay. "Him and turtle are gonna come out as lovers I swear!" She went on, but now that the topic was off of me, I relaxed and lapsed back into my dazed listening.
The bell rang for us to go to first period, and I daintily walked in, my blonde hair swinging in its ponytail, my cargo pants swishing comfortingly around me.
"Boo!" I said, giggling when I saw Bella was already in there.
"Hello." She laughed.
"Did we have homework?" I asked, eyeing her open book.
"Yeah. I have no idea how to do it though."
"Booooo." I smiled. "Of course, I didn't even try it."
"How shocking," she replied sarcastically.
"You suck. I always did my homework in pre-cal."
"By always you mean never."
"We never went over it, and it in no way even resembled her tests and you know it. Her tests were random as crap," I laughed as I said that. Oh pre-cal. Such a useless class, as everyone agreed.
"Did we learn anything at all in that class?" She asked.
"Hmm... I'm gonna say... No." The late bell rang and class began. I poked her in the back for the whole class, and she humored me, enjoying the good mood I was in.
Another bell, oh how I hated that my life was ruled by bells.
"I guess we should give that homework a try." She said as we left.
"Like I have time for that, I have to work tonight." I stuck my tongue out. "I hate school night working. I don't sleep till like 2 am."
"You don't go to sleep before then even if you don't have homework." She countered. It was true, I was a night owl completely. Nothing productive ever happened for me during the day. My mind was too scattered by all the things going on around me. I was ADD, I could be working on a problem intently, and the next thing butterfly! I could get distracted by a blank wall, and the scenario was worse in my own room, where near every inch of the wall was covered by my drawings taped to the pastel purple paint on all sides.
"You know how I do. See ya later girl." I bent over to open my locker, replacing calculus with french in my backpack. As soon as my fingers were out of the way it slammed shut in my face. I scrunched my nose up and narrowed my eyes at the offender standing before me. I put my hands on my hips.
"What the hell was that for asshole?" I demanded. His eyes widened oh such a miniscule bit. His lips flattened further, turning closer by the second to a full on frown.
"Don't you talk to me like that bitch."
"Excusez-moi. I'm not a bitch bastard."
"Show some damn respect whore."
"I don't respect jerks who hurt and lie to those they 'love'." I put air-quotes around the word love, emphasizing my point. I don't know where this bravery came from, or the wild mouth. I never cussed.
"You are a slut, and you Emmett show me respect."
"Back off." I turned and walked in full view of the rest of the school, taking the long way to french, but the short way out of the conversation. I felt a gentle hand on my wrist, and I turned, following it up to the owner.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." His brown eyes pleaded to me, melting my soul the way they did when we first met. "I was shocked, and I reacted badly. Please forgive me precious. I don't know what I'd do without you. Please say you'll forgive me." There was no anger, no hate, no bitterness. I couldn't help it.
"Ok." I whispered. He smiled, releasing my wrist, leaning in and pecking my cheek, and I blushed like a middle schooler. He walked off without another word, and I walked on to my class, cursing myself for letting him get away with the way he treated me, again. It wasn't the first time he came pleading to me for forgiveness. And it wasn't the first time I forgave him for it. The first time he struck me, I had cried and ran. I said I would never forgive him, that I didn't deserve to be treated like that, that I was better than that, that I didn't need him if he was going to be that way, that I was dumping him the next day, that nothing he could say would change my mind. The following day, there was a six page letter in my locker from him that had brought tears to my eyes and had me running to him saying it was fine, it was okay, I loved him and it hadn't changed, but to never ever do that to me again.
Since then, the pain escalated, and he just expected to be forgiven. Perhaps for good reason, since every time before I had forgiven him. What else would he expect?
Second and third period passed, and I was on my way to fourth. On my way to guitar when I got yanked back by my backpack and felt the weight of someone's arm over my shoulder. I froze for a moment before I realized, that weight wasn't familiar. It was warmer, heavier than Jesse's.
"How's your day been?" The smiling voice of James came with sweet relief for the ice in my veins.
"Pretty boring, but better than usual." Why didn't I just say good? He smiled, something that warmed my blood more.
"That's good." He lifted his arm. "Well I'll see you in fifth." He winked and walked off the other direction. I walked into guitar, stunned when I was wrapped in David's kind hug.
"Hey shorty," He grinned, much like a cartoon in the way it was so much larger than life.
"Hey weirdy." I couldn't make up anything more clever.
"So you in guitar then?" He asked.
"Nahhhh I just like coming in here to sleep."
"Good place." He smiled, playing alone with my sarcastic comment.
"The best." I smiled too, he hugged my again as the bell rang, and then ran off to whatever class he was supposed to be in. David had the power to make you really tired with his energy level. He really did. I just felt my mood become lighter with his la-de-da attitude. It was borderline careless, but more free than anything. A mood I wished I could envelope in myself every day of my life, instead of the heavy burdensome mood my mind always forced upon me. I'd always heard happiness is in the head. So did that mean I wanted to be sad? I didn't believe that, I spent every second wishing I could be happy, like say James. Who every time I saw him was smiling like there was nothing wrong at all. Like his life was peachy perfect. I barely knew him, and yet, I wanted to be like him. I wanted to live life like he did. But who knows. It's said sometimes that,
The prettiest eyes cry the most tears
The prettiest smiles hide the deepest secrets
The prettiest hearts have felt the most pain
I second it. I smile for my friends and for my family, I cry myself to sleep and scream myself awake. It was miserable, and no one knew it. Oddly, was the way I wanted it too. I didn't want to be pitied, which I knew I would be. I didn't want to be asked if I was ok, cause I never was, and I didn't ever want to talk about why. I didn't want to be the center of attention, "oh there's the girl who's boyfriend hit her." Scandals were wild fire here. If something bad happened, everyone, even me, found out about it somehow. I tuned my guitar absently, all the while the thoughts ramming through my brain. I set it down, and curled up in my chair. Sitting on the back with my feet in the seat. My headphones plugged in now, blasting the songs of my life I had specifically chosen for the playlist. Emmett made his loud entrance right as the late bell rang, as usual. His cheery self waltzing into the room. His wannabe gangster look in dark sweats below the ass and sunglasses indoors. I turned down the volume of my music so I could hear the outside world.
"Awww Alice! You look so cute!" He whipped his iphone out of his pocket and I smiled at the comment. My smile faltered slightly when he decided to take a picture, I always hated pictures. I felt so naked, like they camera could see everything people couldn't. He gave me a puppy look, and I couldn't help but giggle. "A-hah! I made you laugh." He smiled, a smile that bordered creepy and hystEdwardal at the same time. We settled into class, sharing banter as we did the lesson, empty words I didn't remember ten minutes later. But it was easy for me. The meaningless conversation was peaceful, it was normal, it was everything my life couldn't be. The bell rang, and we left for fifth period. He grabbed my backpack, pushing my ahead of him in the crowd like a human bulldozer. I laughed and giggled as we fought through the crowd of faceless people.
We reached my english classroom, I skipped in, threw down my backpack, and ran back into the hall where he was waiting. We walked to my locker, the hallways much emptier than before, and chit chatted about more random stuff. I twirled my hair around my finger, eyeing the ugly dirty blonde color of it. I bent down to my locker, jangling in the combination.
"Alice!" Cried a high pitched, near feminine voice, I ignored it, simply smiled to myself.
"Yo, I think someone called for you." Emmett said tapping my shoulder. I shut my locker, my english book tucked in my arm, and saw James, smiling, as usual. I fumbled for a word to say, and unintelligibly muttered hey. I pushed Emmett and we walked to my class.
"Soooo." He said.
"Sooo?" I repeated.
"Who dat?" He smiled, waggling his eyebrows.
"Silly boy in my english class."
"Really? Like for realz? Or like, silly boy I likey but don't talk to?" My face flamed.
"I talk to him," I stammered out.
"Really?"
"Sort of... Mostly over facebook..." I trailed off, I was only good at online conversations, when I had time to monitor my mouth.
"Well I'll see you later." He looked around, falsely pretending secrecy. "You should talk to him." He smiled and trotted off in the direction of his own class. I sighed, I'm just not good at it. I recalled part of our conversation the other day.
Alice: I hate these classes. I don't know what I was thinking when I signed up for them. I. Want. Out. So. Bad!
James: But then you wouldn't get to see me. :(
Alice: Maybe I would keep ap lang then.
James: Too bad you never talk to me. :(
Alice: Sorry. It's just not something I'm good at...
James: Nothing wrong with that. I'm nervous talking to you.
Alice: Why?
James: I always get nervous talking to pretty girls.
Alice: I just get nervous in general. Maybe I'll talk to you tomorrow?
James: Good luck. :)
I'd love to talk to you.
Alice: I'd love to talk to you too.
I walked into english, slipping past James's desk, slinking into my seat, and getting out my english book. Fifth period was divided into four sections. 1st through 4th lunch. The teacher taught during 1st and 2nd lunch, we had study hall during 3rd, and we went to the cafeteria for lunch ourselves during 4th lunch. Class was boring, we read articles from our book and discussed them, or rather, the rest of the class did and I listened to it. I didn't enjoy talking, I was too self-conscious to voice my own opinion. I always felt like what I had to say wasn't important, or was silly, so I kept it to myself.
The bell rang for third lunch to begin, and half the class left for various things they did: library, student aid, tutoring, finish a test, etc. I considered putting in my headphones like usual, but instead, I sucked in my breath and walked over to the desk next to James's and sat down.
"Heya." He said, smiling at me.
"Hey. How ya doing?" How original, I chided myself. Could I be any more boring?
"Tired." Yawning for emphasis, and I giggled. That's not funny!
"You should sleep more then." Way to sound like his mother.
"So should you," he said poking me. I batted his hand aside, laughing.
"I'm a night person. I enjoy it."
"So am I. I just don't handle it well the next day."
"I'm better on fewer hours of sleep I think."
"Wow you're lucky then." I pulled my sleeves down around my hands, fidgeting with the fabric of them, needing something to occupy the nervous tension that was radiating off of me as obvious as a heat lamp in the snow.
"Yeah I wouldn't call myself lucky per say." I mumbled out. He quirked his eyebrow at me, but I said no more. It wasn't necessary to tell someone who was little more than a stranger to you every one of your problems, every plague of your life, to be honest, I didn't think anyone needed the burden of knowing what went on in my life. The only people that need to know are the ones it concerns: and that is only Jesse and myself. He gave a concerned type look, but didn't pry.
"Soooo homecoming? You goin?" He nudged my shoulder and I giggled
"I guess so. I can't find a good reason why I shouldn't." Honestly, I could. Jesse. Jesse. Jesse. Oh and Jesse. I would go with Rosalie.
"You should save me a slow dance." His hazel eyes burned into mine, making my blood rush furiously to my cheeks.
"Ok." I managed to get out.
"I'll get there late though, I have band stuff."
"I'm going with a friend, the single girls." I laughed at my own statement, not that it was even that funny. Rosalie was recently single, finding out her douche bag boyfriend cheated on her she dumped his ass hard. So we were the 'single' ones. I considered myself single, I did not categorize Jesse and me as in a relationship, not that kind. That would imply I liked him. I didn't like him, I hated every cell that made up every feature of him.
"You're single? How is that possible?"
"I'm a weird freakazoid. Nuff said." I crossed my arms over my chest, closing off the topic.
"I don't think you're that weird."
"Gee thanks." I mumbled sarcastically. He rested his cheek on his knuckles looking at me, feeling like he was gazing right through me.
"I thought you were with that Jesse guy." My back went ramrod straight in my seat. Second by long second I regained my composure, and managed a literate response.
"No."
"You ok?" I realized I was scowling a hole in the wall.
"Fine."
"Sooo... Homecoming?" He quirked a smile at me. I blew out a long awaited sigh.
"I already answered that."
"Definitive?"
"Ok yes. I'm going. Happy?"
"Yes." I smiled in spite of the previous conversation, suddenly feeling lighter, amazed at the way he was able to make me feel. It was something I wasn't sure if I liked it or not yet. Every time someone came into my life they left. I didn't want another one of those. I couldn't break myself any further, or there weren't going to be enough pieces to fix me again.
"Good." The bell rang, sending us to lunch. "I guess I'll see you tonight then." I mumbled, feeling the butterflies take flight as I realized what I had gotten into. I grabbed up my backpack and walked out the door.
"Boo!" I jumped back, my heart pounding in my chest though I knew it was just school, and I wasn't in any real danger here. "Whoa you ok?"
"Yeah... Fine." I stuttered out. To be plainly honest, I was afraid it was going to be Jesse. I was thankful though, that I was wrong. It was only James. He reached out to put his hand on my shoulder, and I flinched, his hand faltered for a moment, then took laid in what was supposed to be a reassuring gesture, but only made closed up my throat and made me feel pathetic. I shrugged off his hand, hating the sympathy I could feel exerting from him. I knew it wasn't meant to make me feel worse about myself, but that was how it made me feel.
"Hey hey hey," he cooed, "what's wrong? I didn't mean to scare you like that, I'm sorry." My throat was tight, and I struggled to maintain regular breathing. It still came out in shudders.
"I'm fine." I choked out. Why was this so hard? To simply get out a few words to this boy. Why did I feel like breaking so bad? Because I knew he thought I was weak? I knew he thought I was scared? I knew he thought I was a wreck, not worth anyone's time? That I'm damaged? I felt like he knew me, like he saw through me, I felt vulnerable and I felt naked. I felt like I had no secrets left. Secrets were all I had in my life anymore. I didn't know what I would be without them.
"You don't seem fine." I broke out a smile, albeit forced, but as legit as I could muster.
"You don't know what fine looks like for me."
"I don't think it looks like you're gonna jump outta your skin."
"What do you expect when you're creeping behind a wall on an unsuspecting little girl?"
"Way to make me sound like a pedophile." He falsely frowned at me, after one mere second he broke out into a smile again. "I have been told I look forty."
"No way! You don't look forty! You look... sixteen."
"Yay!" He squealed, I burst out laughing at the feminine cry he let out.
"You have a cute laugh." My face burned and I quit laughing, feeling self conscious of my laugh all of a sudden. "Don't stop. You look happy. I like it when you're happy."
"Me too."
"And I'm happy I don't look forty!" He waved his hands about in excited motions.
"People keep telling my a look twelve."
"With a body like that? Nope. Not like any twelve year old I've seen." I felt my whole face and neck burn scarlet. If there was anything that was a surefire way to fluster me, it's my physical appearance. My blonde hair was stringy and thin, frizzy and curly but always forced into submission by the heat of the flatiron, my brown eyes were boring even when lined with the ideal colored makeup, my face pale even with foundation, my height bordered on a mere five feet, I was clumsier than sin, my lips were near always chapped, my waist was a size 1 but I had small proportions, I didn't have long legs, I hardly had curves, and my thighs were on the larger side. "Did I embarrass you?"
"Uh.. duh." I scuffed my feet on the ground, and started walking toward the lunchroom, James in tow right beside me.
"Why?"
"Why do you think?"
"Why does your body embarrass you?"
"It just does... and I got to go." I sped up my gait and slipped into place beside Edward at the table. I was quiet throughout lunch, and Edward seemed to sense I wasn't one for conversation today. He was empathetic, he could always tell what someone was feeling, very in tuned to emotional responses.
I drove home in a daze, one second I was driving down the path to the main road, the next I was pulling into my driveway. Stanford decided she was going to cancel practice this morning, thankfully. I couldn't take getting up that early today. Every Friday was morning practice. 5:55 at the front of the school. Too damn early. I unlocked the door, throwing down my backpack on the couch and grabbing an apple from the counter. I sank my teeth into the crisp skin of it, thinking about my night. Homecoming is tonight. I chewed the bite around in my mouth. Homecoming is tonight. I swallowed it, as well as the rising lump in my throat Homecoming... Is tonight... I set down the apple, and sank to the floor. Jesse, James, Rosalie. Dear lord, how am I gonna handle this night...
