Dynamic


"In order to create there must be a dynamic force, and what force is more potent than love?"

— Igor Stravinsky


1. SERIOUS ISSUES

2. FIXATION

3. STALKER

4. DIFFERENT

5. DOOM AND GLOOM

6. OPPONENT

7. HOT WATER

8. DISCLOSURE

9. RADIOACTIVE

10. AUDIENCE

11. DEFINING

12. SOLITUDE ATTITUDE

13. DYNAMIC

14. THE THREAT

15. TEMPERS RISING

16. MIRRORS

17. ETHICS

18. UNAVOIDABLE

19. POSSIBILITIES

20. IMPULSE

21. CRAZE

22. NEGOTIATIONS


1. SERIOUS ISSUES

MONDAYS AND I just weren't friends. We didn't mix well, and I hated all of them, to be honest. I hated how they were on the first day of the week and how it abruptly ended my two-day vacation. I'm usually always cranky when I wake up on Mondays, tired from doing my homework last minute on Sunday nights. I know I could avoid being tired and sleepy the next day if I just did my homework on time. But I'm lazy as hell. I'd rather spend my two-day vacation on myself rather than on school-related stuff. I have five days of school, so school doesn't need to take away time from my two "me" days.

An alarm always brings me out of my dreams in the mornings for school. I always have to convince myself to open my eyes and pull my blanket away from my warm body. It's usually cold when I get out of bed, and my body yearns to go back to my soft, comforting bed, but then I remember school and how pissed my parents would be if I didn't go.

My routines in the morning are dull; wake up my two brothers, get ready, feed the dog and make sure he has food and water until I get back, and then drag myself to school. I walk by myself, while my older brother takes my younger brother to the tribe's middle school. I refuse to ride with them. They're both cranky in the mornings, like me. And cranky people get more cranky around each other.

I wrap my sweater tightly around my body and walk quickly to school. I stare around like I usually do, not surprised at what greets my eyes because I always see it. It's fun to see something out of the ordinary, but then that gets ordinary, and the fun ends. La Push is interesting, if you're an optimistic person—not that I'm not—but yeah, I'm cranky right now, so I'm not optimistic at the moment.

La Push has been my home for my whole life. I'm half-Quileute, as are my brothers. My mom's a full-blooded Quileute, but my dad's an outsider—a pale face. They both decided to stay here, in my mom's home, and to create a life together. My dad's a chef in a restaurant in Forks, while my mom sells stuff from magazines and occasionally babysits—rather annoying kids she gets sometimes.

When my eyes meet La Push High school, I sigh in relief and see my breath turn to mist. I sigh again, just to see my breath turn to mist once more, before turning back to my dull school. The thing about it was that it didn't look like a High School; it looked more like ole houses jammed together. It was a Tribal school, but I preferred to call it High School. Made me feel better, somehow.

I knew everyone here—not personally, but by seeing their face and giving them a name. Like that girl with a mole beneath her mouth who happened to be applying make-up on; that's Elena Castle. Popular, loved by many. Hated by me.

Jacob likes her, therefore I hate her.

The name Jacob makes a head pop into my head, showing his cheerful face, and a wide grin. He was the most handsome boy ever—in my opinion, at least. He was this boy who could make you happy just by seeing him smile. I loved the way he never really got upset by many things, and how he was always helpful, and he was never mean or conceited—he had a sweet, caring, happy-go-lucky personality. He didn't rub off the fact that he was the son of the Chief. He was tall, with long black hair, bright dark brown eyes, russet skin, and that friendly smile of his, placed on his always cheerful face.

What wasn't there to love about him?

Through the many faces in the tiny parking lot, I try to spot his bright face. I couldn't help it. That was probably the first thing I always did when I arrived at school, and if I did find him, my day would seem to brighten just a little bit, and a smile would appear on my face. His smile was that contagious.

"Boo!" Somebody pushes me slightly, and I let out a startled yelp. It attracted many eyes to me, and I found myself blushing and looking away from their curious, surprised eyes.

Instead, I glare at my smiling friend, who seemed to be laughing through her eyes. "How many times have I told you to not do that?" I asked, defeated. No matter how many times I tell her to stop, she still tries to spook me. I'll tell her every time, though. "I hate it when you do that. It's annoying and definitely not funny."

"For me, it is." She giggled, her bouncy curls moving with her.

"Shut up, Daiane," I muttered under my breath. "I'm going to do that someday to you—see how much you like it." It was an empty threat, like always.

"I'd probably like it, grumpy." She pokes my side, causing another startled yelp to escape my mouth, but not as loud as the other one.

"Stop that!" I hated it when people poked me, or sneaked behind me and tried to surprise me. I was a jumpy person.

She rolled her eyes. Daiane was a morning person, unlike me. "So," she began, scanning the crowd of kids with me, "looking for Jacob, huh." It wasn't a question. She knew my routine.

I nodded. The mere mentioning of his name made me feel a little happy. "Yup. The usual."

The bell rang, causing my little hope to deflate. I didn't find Jacob.

"Boo-hoo," Daiane mumbled, rolling her dark eyes when she saw my sulking face. "Life goes on."

"I know," I sighed. "Hey, where's Lidia?" I had just realized our other friend wasn't here.

Daiane shrugged and pointed at the entrance to our school. "Beats me. She's the nerd—so she's probably inside already."

Lidia liked going to our ancient library because it supposedly helped her be in peace. She wasn't a big people person. Heck, I'm surprised all three of us were friends in the first place. Still, we tended to give her the space she secretly wanted.

I could imagine her already, sitting alone with an old copy of The Great Gatsby in front of her. She found comfort in reading the same books over-and-over again.

"Let's go, I don't want Ms. Birdie getting mad at us again for being late to class," I grumbled, walking quickly towards the entrance of the school, already seeing the other kids marching inside.

Great. Just what I needed; pushes and shoves.

Throughout my day, there was no sign of Jacob. The day was outright upsetting; I was assigned a lot of homework that was due the next day. It was as if all the teachers had agreed on giving us a lot of homework just for their amusement. What the heck did they do with the homework, anyway? Did they just throw it away without even glancing at it, and give random grades to the students, while giving their favorite students the best of grades?

"Awh, cheer up," Daiane said to me while we were walking towards our third-period class. "You're too grumpy in the mornings, ya' know?"

Lidia nodded beside me, rolling her eyes. "And you call me grumpy."

"My grouchiness is only exclusive to the mornings," I argued back. "While you are always grumpy."

I watched as my quieter friend opened her mouth to retort back at me, but decided not to. She oftentimes only spoke when she felt that it would contribute to the conversation. Right now, I was not worth the energy.

Which I took as a victory.

"Hey!" Daiane suddenly said, startling me. "Remember Jacob is moving to our third Period!"

I cannot believe I had stupidly forgotten such an important fact.

I beamed at them. "Oh, yeah! I bet you he only joined our History class because he wanted to see me," I said dreamily, grinning now. Both my friends giggled at my sudden change of mood.

When we entered our third-period class, our cheerful teacher, Mr. Wilkins, was writing stuff on the board. I peeked at it in interest but then Lidia elbowed me. I glared at her, but she only pointed to our right with a smile on her face, reminding me who had this class now.

And there he was, laughing with his two best friends: Quil Ateara, and Embry Call.

But I really didn't see Quil and Embry. My eyes were focused only on Jacob, who didn't seem to notice that I, Ana Martin, was gawking at him like I always do. It was something I couldn't help from doing. It was his fault my eyes were always glued to him when we were in the same place. It was his fault he was so nice and kind, and cute.

I had been too busy staring at Jacob, that I hadn't noticed I was blocking the path for people to pass by to their seats. It wasn't until an icy voice from behind me made me look away from Jacob, and stare into the owner's eyes. My eyes met two pairs of—surprisingly—hazel eyes. I was momentarily shocked because of the intensity of those two eyes; it was as if they could see directly into my soul and was setting it on fire.

I suddenly felt very small in this room.

"Get out of the way, will you?" the boy snapped, glaring down at me. It was then—when I focused on the features surrounding those eyes—that I recognized who was speaking to me.

Paul Lahote was known to be short-tempered. I had never really talked to him besides this instant. Maybe the last time I had spoken to him was when we were like six and he had shoved me into some mud, by 'accident.' I had disliked him ever since.

Looking at him now, though, he didn't seem to remember me. Which was fine by me, I don't need this short-fuse talking to me.

Still, he was talking to me now and there was no avoiding it. Not when he was so unreasonably mad. Why was he even mad in the first place?

"Stop staring at your little boyfriend, Jacob," he sneered at me, his eyes still ablaze.

That was not what I had expected him to say—especially not in front of the whole class and Jacob. I was instantly mortified; I felt like turning into that puddle he once pushed me into and just disappearing. I could feel my whole face redden and I couldn't even help the gasp that escaped my mouth.

"He's not my b-boyfriend!" I finally managed to stammer out. Through the humiliation—knowing that almost everyone was staring at us know—anger began to bubble inside of me. My fist clenched and I found myself glaring at Paul. "So shut up."

For the first time, his expression changed. He seemed taken aback for a fraction of a second before he smirked. "I see you have a backbone," he said dully. "Good for you."

"I see you have some serious issues," I retorted back. "You freaking idiot!" Was that uncalled for? Too late to take it back, anyway.

The smirk on Paul's face was wiped out. A scowl replaced it, and his glare intensified. "I won't bother talking to someone like. . . you," he spat. He turned away from me and began to walk around the classroom, the long way to his seat.

I was left speechless.

When he had said "you", he said it as though I wasn't even worth his time. It stung a little, and I could feel my throat start to tighten. But I wouldn't show him how much he'd affected me. He's an idiot, anyway. My eyes stung, but I willed myself to be brave. Be tough. Be cool.

"You okay?" Lidia asked, suddenly beside me.

All I could do was nod, not trusting my voice.

My eyes flickered up to Mr. Wilkins. He was staring at Paul with a disappointed face and sighed loudly. "That's not how you treat a lady, Paul. I think you need to apologize."

I groaned internally.

I just wanted to sit down and forget this ever happened.

"Nope, I don't think so," Paul replied back, sounding like he was the boss when he wasn't.

"If you don't, Mr. Lahote, then you will be given detention for the rest of the week—I've let other encounters of your's with other students slide pass, but not this one. You treated Miss Martin rather rudely, and I can't accept this in my class. Apologize now, Mr. Lahote, and if you don't, it will be two weeks of detention."

"Yeah, apologize Paul," Jacob said, sounding upset. I found myself looking up, my heart racing quickly. Was he standing up for me or something?

Jacob was staring at Paul through narrowed eyes. He had his back to me, but the thought was all that counted, wasn't it?

Sighing, I stared at Paul, too, and saw that his forehead was creasing, thinking hard. "Well," he began, "I guess I have no options, do I? Not when Miss Martin's boyfriend is telling me to?" he sneered, his eyes flickering to Jacob, then to me.

When his eyes landed on me once again, I was prepared. I made sure to give him one of my good glares.

I ignored the blush that was creeping onto my face at the mention of 'boyfriend.'

Then Jacob spoke. "She's just a friend," he cleared up. He twisted his body to stare at me and he flashed me a smile. Then he turned back around.

That was a real subtle way to be friend-zoned.

My mind registered his words slowly.

I was a friend.

A freaking friend.

At least that should satisfy me, right? We don't even talk for crap's sake! At least he called me his friend, instead of saying She's just a girl in class. I think that would've stung a lot more.

"Miss Martin," Paul taunted, "I'm very sorry. There, I said it." He stared pointedly at our teacher, and I took that as him ignoring my existence again.

I scowled at him. His lame attempt of an apology didn't affect me—it was the fact that he still managed to get under my skin with his stupid attitude.

I will not let that idiot ruin this class for me. Not when Jacob was here now.

Mr. Wilkins sighed loudly and nodded. "Well, well, that's that, I see. Now class, sit up, please. We will be changing seats today since Mr. Black has joined this class. I don't want him sitting next to his friends; I think he should get to know different people. . ." he trailed off in a musing tone. "Anyways," he chuckled, "on the board, I have written down the new seating chart. I expect all of you to behave in a mature fashion."

I held my breath as my eyes flickered to the board, looking for my name. My heart nearly died from both a freaking amazing thing and for another freaking this-can't-be-happening thing—I guess that amazing thing fell into that category too.

Jacob Black sat next to me.

YES!

And so did Paul Lahote.

NO!

I clenched my jaws and raised my hand. Why talk over the many grumbles of my fellow classmates? It was way better to raise my hand high in the air, and ask Mr. Wilkins if I can switch seats. . . even if it meant sacrificing my seat next to Jacob. I just couldn't accept the fact that I was assigned to sit next to such an arrogant jerk.

But Mr. Wilkins spoke over the chatter of the crowd in one of his rare, strict tones. "No, I will not be changing seats. Act mature, please."

That caused my hand to come down, and a frown to form on my lips.

So much for ignoring Paul for the rest of the year.

I was one of the few people standing. I quickly hurried to my seat, avoiding anyone's eye. I held my breath when I reached Paul's, Jacob's, and I's table, and pushed the chair out so I could sit in the middle—Paul was to my left, and Jacob was to my right. Jacob shot me a kind smile, which made this all a little better. I smiled back at him, starting to get happy.

"Great, just what I needed," I heard Paul grumble to himself.

Throughout the period, I couldn't help myself from staring at Jacob from the corner of my eyes. I sometimes caught Lidia's or Daiane's eyes, and they would show me the thumbs up, before turning back to face the class and paying attention to the lesson. I guess I should prepare myself to fail this class; Jacob was going to make it difficult to pay attention, now that he was sitting right next to me.

The bell rang, startling me. I bent down to pick up my pencil that I had dropped when I had jumped in surprise. My arm brushed against Paul's hot arm, and I flinched away from it. Paul must have seen me doing this, because he was suddenly shaking—rage, maybe?

"Nobody said you had to brush against my arm!" he yelled, still shaking. The amount of anger that laced his voice made me flinch back, and bump against somebody—Jacob.

"Don't talk to her like that," Jacob spoke up. I wasn't sure if he was defending me or not, but I wasn't even thinking of that at the moment. All I could think about was Paul's furious gaze. I was too terrified to say anything at the sight of Paul's eyes. He had a wild look to them.

His shaking began to worsen.

Was he having a seizure? I found myself worrying in spite of the situation, and my eyebrows came together.

And then Jared Cameron burst into the classroom, making everyone turn to him. He wasn't paying attention to anyone else, but Paul, a somber look in his eyes made me confused. He marched right over to Paul, grabbed him by the arm, and started pulling him away.

"C'mon Paul," he muttered quietly. "Let's go."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Paul bellowed, his shaking worsening more.

I felt like screaming. Something was wrong with him. But what? He was having a freaking seizure and no one was doing anything to help him; heck, even I wasn't. I was beyond terrified, and I found myself wondering if Paul was going to explode on me, since his eyes found mine, and they were glaring at me.

"Bye," he spat, and finally began to let Jared Cameron lead him out of the class.

No one spoke after their departure. Not even Mr. Wilkins.

Finally, he said, "Now class," he began shakily, "go to your next class. Quickly." Then he turned to the classroom phone, and began to dial numbers quickly.

Everyone began to file out of class, too stunned that no one uttered a word.

I hadn't noticed I had been shaking until Jacob pointed it out. I looked at him, and for the first time ever, I found myself not dazed by him talking to me. I only nodded mutely, got my stuff, and began to walk away. Lidia and Daiane met me on my way to the door, and we were all quiet. I think they sensed that I didn't want to talk—either way, I was thankful. I didn't trust my voice.

Paul's angry yells were echoing inside my head, and my eyes stung. Does he hate me? But what had I done?

"He's an idiot, Ana," Daiane said softly. "Ignore him."

Lidia nodded beside me. "Yeah, I don't know what's his problem."

For the rest of the day, my eyes weren't looking for Jacob. That was rather shocking, and it surprised even me. No, I was looking for someone else; someone with serious issues. I looked for him in the halls, in the cafeteria, and after school.

But Paul Lahote was nowhere to be seen, and it worried me.


A/N: I hope you liked the first chapter of Dynamic! I think it went well, well, you know, except for Paul being a complete jerk :D

Check out my other stories (Platinum—Jacob/OC & Euphoria—Leah/OC )! Also, before I forget; I don't own Twilight. The owner of Twilight is Stephenie Meyer ;P

By the way, it's my birthday today. It would mean a lot if I can get reviews! :D

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