3. STALKER
HAZEL BROWN EYES kept on meeting mine throughout the rest of the day, and dang, it was unnerving. Don't get me wrong; I was completely flustered whenever I met Paul's eyes in the hall's—it was almost as if he was trying to catch my eyes. Even then, I was beginning to get a bit creeped out because sometimes when we stared at each other in the halls, Paul would stop, stand in the middle of the hall, and smile weirdly, giving me this. . . look that I'll admit, was flattering.
Yet, I wished he'd stop.
Everyone was beginning to notice Paul's and I's staring contest in the halls. Daiane nor Lidia were helping at all. In fact, I believe they were the ones who started the rumor that me and Paul had something going on. Of course I wasn't. I was a faithful Team Jacob lover.
In the future, I will be Ana Black. Not Ana. . . Lahote.
I shuddered.
"Aw, c'mon," Daiane whined from beside me as we walked towards the Girl's locker rooms, "you're lying. You can't be creeped out that Paul is staring at you. . . I'll be happy that a boy is noticing."
True, I thought in my head. I should be happy, and a part of me was. It meant that I was at least attractive to boys. But I was worried about something, and it kept on bothering me.
"But," I began uncomfortably, dropping my voice, "what if it's all fake?" I said somewhat bitter, glaring down at the floor.
She was quiet.
Lidia decided that it was her turn to take over the conversation. "But what if he's not, huh?"
My insides clenched suddenly. I looked up from the floor and shrugged. "Think about it," I almost begged both of them, looking at both their eyes, "he screams at me, leaves, comes back, and now wants to have a staring contest? A little suspicious, don't ya' think?" I said shakily. I mean, I don't wanna fall for Paul's trap, and then end up being the cause of La Push's laughter.
Daiane exhaled loudly. "You're overreacting, Ana."
"Like always," Lidia piped in with a roll of their eyes, dismissing my worries.
I scowled at them, running a hand through my tangled hair. "Shut it," I barked angrily, glaring down at the floor.
They just didn't understand! That was the part that really frustrated me. They just saw that a. . . good looking kid was gawking at me, but what they didn't see is that he gave me these weird looks whenever I saw Jacob and smiled, or when I smiled or waved at a guy. It was almost like jealousy. I was terrified a bit, not knowing what he was going to do to all the boys I talked to.
I was especially worried for Jacob.
Exhaling loudly, I finally looked up, but my jaws were still clenched and I was still sort of angry with my friends. Though I didn't want to be; it wasn't there fault that I easily got frustrated. They knew me very well, so it's that exact reason why they didn't care that I looked pissed off.
Physical Education was, as usual, exhausting. It was my least favorite class. To make it even worse, I had to run a lap outside of the school, on the mud, with my brand new shoes. No one complains though, not even me. The P.E. teacher, Mrs. King, is really mean and strict, so no one wants to mess with that old hag.
I've heard that Paul is always getting in trouble with her. . .
"Stop it," I groaned breathlessly, clumsily jumping over a puddle of mud. I almost squealed when I sort of lost my balance, but Lidia—who was running alongside me, while Daiane walks the lap—caught me by the arm, and steadied me.
She gave me a questioning look before shrugging it off, and jutted her chin forward to indicate that I continue running. I nodded, agreeing mutely, and began to jog once more—that is, until Lidia told me to stop running.
Let me say something: I don't run, I jog.
She caught up to me, panting, sweaty-faced like me. "Stop running!" she demanded sternly.
I felt myself go defensive. "I don't run—I jog."
"Nope," she said, sighing loudly. "You run."
"I have long legs."
Silence followed after my statement, before we both began to laugh hysterically.
Teenagers around us look at us weirdly; some curious, others annoyed. But I could have cared less. They didn't know why me saying I had long legs was funny. It was something only me and my best friends knew about. It was a secret between all three of us.
"What's so funny?" Daiane said from beside me, sounding thoroughly exhausted. She never really exercised—she hated P.E. with a passion. "Tell me!" she whined, pouting.
"Now I want you all getting into teams of six. . ." the teachers voice trailed off, and Lidia, Daiane and I glanced at one another instantly, grinning at one another. ". . . And you three," the teacher was pointing at us, "separate."
We all whined.
"But—!"
"Aww—!"
"Can't we—"
"No," Mrs. King barked at us, glaring. "Separate teams now—or I'll make you run a mile for the rest of the week!"
We all squeaked and hurried towards a different team. Heck, I might not hate running that much, but I sure ass hated sweating a lot. Thanks to my mom, I always sweated a lot; she sweats a lot, too. My brothers didn't get the genes, which was very unfair. Girls shouldn't sweat. Simple as that.
Mrs. King had us play soccer, which wasn't that awful. It was my second favorite sport, but still. I didn't want to play in this freezing weather. It was cold, and my legs were freezing since the P.E. shorts weren't protecting them. I didn't play much at all. In fact, I just stood there, pretending to block goals from the opposing team by just sticking my right foot out, and pretending to kick; I always failed.
"You suck," Dean Thompson said jokingly to me. He rolled his eyes at me and winked.
I blushed, getting nervous—this usually happened when a boy talked to me. "You suck more."
"Nope," he said, chuckling. He waved bye before jogging towards the Boy's locker room.
Daiane and Lidia walked beside me, giggling about something. I frowned, feeling myself go self-conscious. "What?"
They shook their heads and giggled louder. "Nothing!"
I glowered at them. "Just spit it out," I said, almost whining. "C'mon."
"We'll tell you later," Daiane said cheerfully, waving me off and walking ahead of me. Lidia followed after her, while I stood there for a split second, confused and wondering, before following after my friends.
A silent, content sigh escaped my lips when the bell rang. I quickly dressed back to my normal clothes, and packed my backpack, before turning to Daiane, who was still dressing. I scowled at her slowness; did she not see that I was ready to leave? Apparently, she could, but she didn't care—since she smiled sweetly at me when she met my eyes.
"Hurry up!" Lidia said, poking Daiane on the back. "I wanna leave already."
I smirked. "So do I."
Finally, after Daiane had hurried her butt off, we were walking out of school. I swung my hips mockingly, showing Daiane and Lidia how Elena Castle walked. They were giggling loudly behind me as I walked weirdly. And then they stopped suddenly, and their footsteps' sounds quieted too—and I also began to twitch. I swiveled around quickly, which was a major mistake because I lost my footing, and began to fall. But a strong, hot arm shot out of nowhere, grabbing my arm—sending a strong, almost magnifying energy throughout my body—and steadied me.
I was almost fearful to look up—both delightment and annoyance was creeping up on me, and I found myself glowering down at the ground.
There was a silent moment, that is, until Paul's arrogant voice broke it.
"What? No thank you's?" he asked smugly. "I mean, I just did save your life. . . A kiss is fine, you know. You don't even need to say thank you. . . But you can open your mouth," he added in, making my cheeks flood with lava.
"No," I said stubbornly, clenching my jaws. I refused to look at him. "Go away."
He chuckled. "No way. I won't go anywhere unless you tell me."
"I just did. Go away."
"Let me say it another way: I won't leave you—my beautiful green eyed monster—alone, until you're officially mine." he said strongly, sounding serious. I was both thrilled and terrified at his words, not knowing what to make of them. I wanted to walk away, but at the same time, I wanted to stay here, and argue with him so we could at least talk.
A knot formed on my throat, and I tried to gulp it away. "I'll never be your's," I growled, finally glaring up at him—wow he was huge. "Get that stuck in that little, arrogant head of your's," I spat, stomping my foot down on the ground angrily.
He raised an amused eyebrow. "I didn't know girl's stomped their feet in reality—oh wait, never mind. Elena does that a lot."
My left eye squinted at the mention of her. "Ugh don't even compare me to her," I said almost bitterly, my eyes looking around Paul. I tried to locate her, but she didn't seem to be anywhere around. Pleased with this bit of information, I resumed my glaring towards Paul. "What?" I asked, shifting uncomfortably when I caught him giving me one of those "special" stares at me.
Paul shrugged. "Nothin'."
"Well," Daiane said from behind me, winking at me—clearly, Paul must have seen this. "We have to go. Sorry Ana, but my mom wants me home early. So. . . bye!" she added in cheerfully, winking once more and staring at Paul with wide eyes. "B—bye."
"Bye," Lidia murmured, following after Daiane who had already scurried away—she had seen my death glare.
I watched them leave with envy. They didn't get to be stuck here with Paul. "I'm going to kill them," I muttered under my breath.
"Why? 'Cause they want this sexy beast too, huh," Paul spoke up suddenly, sounding annoyingly smug. He gestured to himself with a big smirk plastered on his face. This only infuriated me more.
"Nobody wants you."
"You do."
"No," I said stubbornly, clenching my jaws.
"Admit it," he whined almost, his arm reaching out—my eyes were immediately drawn on how his new muscles flexed when he did so—for my arm, but I quickly flinched away. "Aw," he pouted. "Now don't be mean."
I laughed bitterly. "You're talking to me about not being mean?" I watched his face; he winced a little. "Well, you shouldn't have screamed at me two weeks ago; then, you might have had some brownie points," I said angrily, glaring at him. "Leave me alone." And with that, I began to walk away—quickly, I might add, to get away from him.
Though he was insistent to bother me. "Hey, you deserved it," he said, no trace of teasing in his voice. "My skin is nice. It's not some disease." he spat.
Then the embarrassment flooded in. "I—I'm sorry," I finally said resentfully, kicking a rock.
"You know, everything would be forgotten if you just give me a kiss," he said. My eyes flickered up to him, and saw the cheeky smile on his lips.
I jerked my head to the right, and then to the left.
"Aw," he whined. "Well then. . . I don't forgive you," he taunted, one of his flaming fingers grazed over my right cheek. I immediately reacted by slapping his finger away—I hated being touched without even knowing, heck, it just made me uncomfortable—and took three steps away from him, my breathing stopped.
He was shaking again, and glaring, too.
"Paul," I began shakily, looking away and squeezing my eyes shut. "Don't do that crap—"
"What the hell!" he suddenly yelled, interrupting me. "Why are you being so damn stubborn! This imprinting crap should make you easy to get—then why the hell isn't it working!" His shaking worsened, and unconsciously, I took several steps back, scared at the amount of anger in his eyes.
Imprinting?
Make it easy to get me?
My eyes stung once more. I had been right; he had just wanted to get me to play with me, and then make me the laugh of La Push.
"Go to hell," I spat, my vision beginning to blur. "Get the bloody hell away from me!"
And then I was running away like a pathetic looser that I was. I was running away, when in reality, I should have made sure Paul was alright with his seizure problem. Though my mind rationalized that he was going to be fine. After all, he was still alive from his last seizure, no? The self-loathing appeared; why was I the source of all his seizures, dang it!
Gasping, I quickly opened my door and went inside my house. My mom was in the living room, and yelped out a, "Ana, what's wrong?" But I ignored her. Instead, I rushed into my room, and locked it, while dropping my backpack and glaring at the wall facing me. I refused to cry right now. I refused.
"Ana," my mom began sternly while knocking on the door, "open the damn door." This surprised me; I thought she wasn't going to even check on me since I told her those words two weeks ago. I sighed quietly and didn't move from the wall I was leaning against.
I didn't even think about my answer. "No."
"Open up."
"No."
"Don't make me call your father," she warned.
I relented. "Mum. . ."
"Ana," she sighed loudly, "open up."
I resentfully did so. "What?" I asked rudely, glaring down at the floor.
"What's wrong, hun?" she asked quietly, standing on the door way.
I looked up at her worried face. My anger vanished and I was instantly relieved; my mom forgave me. "Nothing, it's just. . . I got in a fight with this stupid girl," I said, smirking. Yeah, I got in a fight with big-boy Paul. I can't beat him up even if it was to safe my life; I don't have the muscles he does.
My mom was quiet. "Did it turn violent?" she asked quietly.
"No," I replied. "Just. . . she touched my face and I freaked out, and she got—I guess—mad?"
She nodded. "Yeah. You don't like being touched by many," she said with the slightest of smiles. "I don't see why, though."
I shrugged. "Beats me."
"So is that it?"
"Pretty much, yeah." I shrugged. "Why? Expected a lot of drama?" I joked, trying to ease the tension.
"No," my mom giggled. "Actually, I'm—"
I didn't get to hear the end of her sentence because there was a loud knocking coming from the front door. Both my mom and I stared at each other confusedly. My dad and brothers had their keys, so it mustn't be them. And I wasn't expecting anyone, and neither was my mom—I could tell because she didn't have any make-up on.
"I'll go answer it," I said quickly, the knocks getting even more insistent.
Once I was close enough to the door, I asked, "Who is it?" loudly.
"Paul!" his—surprisingly—familiar voice said. I stiffened.
"What?" How did he know where I lived? I mean, it's a small town. . . but how? I didn't expect him to know!
He knocked harder. "Open the door, Ana, goddamnit!" he yelled, sounding furious and panicky at the same time.
"Um. . . yeah, no." I said, going over to the window and opening the curtain slightly. He was glaring at the door and then pounded at it with his large fists, looking distressed.
"ANA!" And then he began to tremble.
"Ana, who's that?" my mom asked from behind me, putting a hand over her heart. I rolled my eyes at her silly antics.
"Nobody mum, nobody." I said quickly, smiling smally. "It's my, um, friend. . . Paul. . ." Biggest lie I have ever told.
"Oh?" she asked, smiling. "Then let him in!"
My eyes twitched. Shouldn't she be wanting me to stay away from a guy that yells? We both winced when Paul yelled, "ANA!"
"Damn," I mumbled.
Exhaling, and with my heart pounding, I opened the door. Paul's fist almost hit my face, but thankfully, he froze it on mid-air. We stared at one another for a moment, no one speaking—it was getting rather awkward with Paul's fist still in the air, inches away from my face.
There was a cough from beside me. "Hem, hem," my mom said, making me look away to roll my eyes. "Hello, you must be Paul?" I turned around to see my mom checking him out. I almost vomited. "You're quite handsome," she giggled.
"Mom!" I hissed, blushing.
"What?" she asked innocently. "Fine. I'll leave you two alone." She winked at me, ignoring my glare.
When she was gone, I rounded on Paul. "How the hell do you know where I live?" I hissed at him, annoyed with his arrogant smirk.
He shrugged, hazel eyes flickering to me before looking around the small part of my house he could see. "Eh."
"Eh?" I repeated, dumbfounded.
Paul nodded, narrowing his eyes on me. I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Why did you run?" he sounded furious again; the previous stress look that had dominated his face disappeared, and he now looked down at me with worry. "Was something wrong?"
I snorted. "Yeah—you."
Then he was smirking. "What? You like me?"
"No," I said a little too quickly, making him smirk. "I don't. You were the reason why, I—um, ran." I blushed at my own words.
He raised an eyebrow when I stepped outside and closed the door behind me. He wiggled his eyebrows. "Oh, I see," he muttered mysteriously.
I clenched my jaws, my blush still on. "What do you see, Paul?"
Paul leaned forward. I felt myself back up against the door, and I held my breath as his face measured just a couple of inches away from mine—I was quickly beginning to get flustered by the close space. I hated the effect he was having on me. My heart was beating rapidly, and I'm sure I looked pretty stupid with my eyes wide open, staring up at him unblinkingly, until I finally did blink. His infuriating smirk appeared even more prominent, noticing how nervous I was.
And then he leaned forward some more—his flaming nose briefly touched mine.
"P—Paul," I stammered out nervously, my palms beginning to sweat. "B—back away from me." He didn't. "Paul, I swear to God that if you don't back away I will—!"
"Will what?" he interrupted, his warm breath fanning over my face. I blinked several times, loosing my focus.
"Or she will call her brother, and he would beat your ass," a familiar voice said from somewhere behind Paul. I exhaled in relief when I recognized my older brother's voice, John.
I almost laughed in relief when Paul pulled away from me—almost laughed. What stopped me was the murderous glint in his eyes. And soon, I found myself being terrified for John, who was seizing up Paul, checking whether he could take him on. I love my brother, I do, and I have complete faith that he's strong. . . but look at Paul! He's so annoyingly huge!
"Who the hell are you?" Paul growled, rounding on my brother. He took a step backwards away from me, but towards my brother.
I automatically took a step forward. "Paul!" I hissed, looking at my brother with panicked eyes. "Paul! Go!"
His wild hazel eyes made contact with mine, and he began to tremble. "Is he another boyfriend of your's?" he spat, his trembling increasing when he met my brother's eyes.
My nose wrinkled. "Ew, no!"
Paul opened his mouth the same time my brother did, but a loud, commanding and strong voice interrupted both of them. "Paul!" It was Samuel Uley's voice.
From what I've heard from my mom, was that he was into drugs. Of course I didn't believe my mom—everything she told me were rumors. But as I surveyed him, I did notice that he looked big, like someone I knew. . . as if he had taken steroids. . . he was big, and buff, too. . . like Jared and Paul.
Did Paul hang out with this guy?
Anger, unsuspecting anger, began to bubble in my chest. What the hell was he doing with him? Heck, why do I care!
"Paul!" Jared's voice said, sounding totally serious. He jogged his way over to us, and he cast a worried glance over at me. He raked my face with his eyes, before looking relieved and grabbing Paul by his shaking arm, and tugged. Wrong mistake.
"Don't touch me," snarled Paul, yanking his arm away. By now, his body was turning into this freaky blur, and I took a step back, squeaking.
Jared's eyes flashed over to mine. "Paul," he said, his voice simple, plain, "look behind you—it's Ana."
Paul turned around, and his wild eyes seemingly softened a bit. I held my breath, terrified. "Ana," he breathed softly, almost in an awed voice.
"Yeah, Ana." Jared nodded. "Now, we don't want to hurt her, do we?"
Paul glared at Jared, and began to shake even more. "No." he growled.
"Good, so I think we should leave. . ." Jared replied calmly, and shot Samuel Uley a look.
Sam nodded at Jared, and quickly began to tug Paul away from me. I could only stare in shock and terror as they began to lead Paul away from me—shaking and everything—to the woods. I didn't know where the heck they were taking him, but I found myself shrugging off the fear, and my courage stepped up as I took a step forward, yelping out, "Wait!"
Piercing dark brown—almost black—eyes stared into mine. "He has to leave," Samuel said curtly, eyes shifting away from mine. I hadn't realized I had been holding my breath until I exhaled.
"B—but," I stammered, running a hand through my hair, eyes looking at Paul who stared back at me, "where are you taking him?" I was worried again.
He smirked. "You worry too much," he barked bitterly, rolling his eyes. Then he looked away from me, pushed Jared and Sam away from him, and jogged quickly to the woods.
I huffed and turned around, glaring at my mom who was peaking through the curtains.
"Hey," John said, putting his arm around my shoulders and hugging me briefly. "Ignore him at school. If he gives you anymore troubles, then tell me."
The next day, I was surprised to see Paul in school—and staring at me.
He wouldn't stop staring.
His eyes found me everywhere; even after school when Lidia and Daiane were walking home, laughing. He had appeared out of nowhere, brushing his flaming arm against mine. And when I did catch him gawking at me, he never said a word to me. He would just stare at me intensely, eyeing all my moves—even in class, when I sat next to him, he wouldn't speak to me. It was rather unnerving knowing that someone was watching your every move whenever they had the chance—and at this point, I didn't actually care that my personal stalker was. . . hot.
"He's like, I don't know, stalking you!" squealed Daiane, digging her bare feet into the sand. "It's so cute!"
We were currently hanging out by the beach. It was a pleasant Saturday afternoon.
Both Lidia and I looked at her weirdly. "Cute?" we said at the same time, wrinkling our noses.
"Yeah," Daiane nodded, munching on her Doritos that she wouldn't share. "It is."
"For you," I grumbled, and sneakily grabbed a Dorito while she wasn't looking. I chewed on it happily, winking at Lidia who was silently giggling. "For me it isn't."
Lidia nodded. "It's creepy."
I nodded, agreeing.
We were quiet for a moment, before Daiane squealed, "Oh lookie, he's here too! Aw, he's a good stalker. Lucky," Daiane said, pouting at me.
"Don't look!" I hissed.
"Personal stalker alert. Eep, eep! Personal Stalker alert!" Daiane giggled, pointing at Paul as he walked by with Jared and other La Push teenagers. I felt my face heat up when I began to twitch—I knew he was staring. I stared determinedly down at the ground while the chattering passed, and finally looked up when Lidia tugged on my shirt.
We both glared at Daiane.
"What?" she asked innocently. "Personal Stalker just passed. Someone had to say it."
"Shut up Daiane." Lidia grumbled, rolling her eyes. She turned to me, and frowned. "We should tell your mom about this," she said, her tone worried as she looked over at where Paul was probably at. I too, looked up, and found my own eyes meeting a pair of Hazel eyes.
I quickly looked away to snort. "Tried that."
"Oh? What'd she say?" Daiane piped up curiously.
"That he has a, um, crush on me," I snorted, blushing. "Doubt that."
"Hmm," Lidia hummed, thinking. "What if he does?"
"Doubt that," I repeated.
"Well, I agree with Daiane on one thing," Lidia said, sighing. "Seems like you do have your very own personal stalker with some serious issues that's always gawking at you," she giggled.
This cracked a smile from me.
Paul freaking Lahote, was my hot personal it didn't thrill me. In fact; I was totally creeped out.
"He's staring," Lidia whispered to me, elbowing me.
I looked up, and met my stalker's hazel eyes, trying to wonder his motives and all his confusing actions. And I didn't look away because my insides turned warm, and I found myself not wanting to look away. I told myself I was being stupid.
To be honest, I wanted to keep on being stupid so I could stare into those eyes that seemed to be smirking at me.
A/N: Well, I imagine Paul being jealous. I don't know why—I mean, all the girls want him. But yet, Ana is the only one who doesn't, and she likes this other guy. . . Jacob (yay). And he thinks this imprinting thing is supposed to make it easier to get her. He's furious that he can't, but tries to play it cool by acting, ya know. . .
Sorry if there was any mistakes; I will correct them later :) And it's a little late, and I'm sorry ;( I was busy last week, lol :)
I am glad everyone is liking this. THIRTY reviews for just TWO CHAPTERS! And so I got like. . . SEVENTEEN REVIEWS last chapter! I'm glad everyone is liking it. Thanks everyone, it makes me really happy :')
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