First Sight
January 17th, 2005
THE COOL WINTER AIR HIT MY SKIN AS I SAUNTERED DOWN the steps of the porch before swiftly turning on my heels to take one final look at the home I'd grown up in. The moment didn't last as long as I wanted to however, as my mother shouted out to me once more from the car.
The drive to the airport was silent. Though my mother acted like she was pretending to focus all of her attention on the icy roads, I could tell she didn't want to talk about what was happening, so I merely did the same, leaning onto the window's ledge, feeling my skin press up against the icy cool glass as I watched the streets of Chicago flash by in a daze. I was wearing my favorite shirt – a white Henley with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows. A rain coat sat in my lap.
In the north-western Washington state, a small town named Forks existed under a near constant cover of clouds and rain. My mother had fled from this town's depressing gloom (and her husband) with me under her wing when I was just an infant. It was this small town in which I had visited my father every summer up until I turned fourteen – that's when my mother had enough, and forced him to vacation with me in Chicago instead.
It was the town of Forks that I was now finding myself sent to. But of course, it was self-imposed. I had been on the edge for a while, but I finally made the decision when I caught my mother crying on the phone, talking to her newly wedded husband about how much she missed him. He was a minor-league baseball player, so he traveled a lot.
"Edythe…" my mother said to me before I walked through the metal detectors. "You really don't have to do this."
But I did. Otherwise, my mother would be stuck living with me instead of being with her husband, and we both knew she didn't want this no matter how much she tried to deny it.
I'd always been good at reading people. Something I developed at a young age, and while it came in handy quite a bit, sometimes I wished that there was a way to turn it off. I'd always feel the need to be selfless in situations such as this, and while it wasn't a bad thing for others, it certainly wasn't a good thing for myself.
"Mom, I promise I'll be fine," I lied.
She stared at me for a moment before she sighed. "Tell Edward I said hi."
"I will." I gave her a smile.
"Just know you can come home whenever you want – I'll come back and be with you."
I could see the look in her eyes when she said this, and I knew that it was something she didn't want.
"Okay." I simply said.
She embraced me in a tight hug, obviously grateful for what I was doing. I walked through the metal detectors, and when I glanced back, she was gone.
It was a four and a half hour flight from Chicago to Seattle, an hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then another hour drive back down to Forks.
My father had been really nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely happy I was coming to live with him semi-permanently. He had called me the day before saying he'd already got me signed up for school, and when I mentioned buying a car, he became weirdly nervous. I suspected that he might already have something planned.
I watched out the tiny window as the plane descended into the clouds above Port Angeles. The first thing I noticed was the rain. This wasn't an omen or anything, just unavoidable. When the plane landed, I packed up my minimal things before walking off, feeling slightly stiff.
Exiting the airport, I immediately spotted Edward. He was waiting by the Ferrari.
This I was expecting. My father was a lawyer – a very successful one at that – so he was able to afford all of the finest things. This was also a primary reason for me wanting to get my own car. The attention the Ferrari seemed to draw was astronomical, and while I wasn't introverted, I wasn't exactly what you would call extroverted either.
"It's good to see you, Edy," My father said with a large grin, embracing me in a loving hug. "You haven't changed much. How's Elizabeth?"
"Mom's good. It's really great to see you, too, dad."
My father took one of the two large suitcases I had. Luckily, Chicago wasn't drastically different from Forks, so most of my clothing was weather appropriate. It took a bit of moving around, but it all fit into the tiny trunk of the car nicely.
"So I uh… found you a car," he announced after we buckled ourselves in. I glanced over to him, not too surprised.
"What kind of car?" I lifted a brow in curiosity.
"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."
I cringed slightly. I'd never been good at driving trucks. "Oh… where did you find it?"
"You remember Bonnie Black down at La Push?" La Push is the tiny Native reservation by the coast.
"Mmm, no."
"She and her husband used to go fishing with us during the summer," he tried rejogging my memory.
Ah, fishing. No wonder why I didn't remember. Definitely not one of the most enjoyable experiences during my visits to Forks.
"She's in a wheelchair now," he continued, "so she can't drive anymore, and she offered to sell me her truck cheap."
"What year is it?"
I immediately noticed the slight change in his expression. The one question he didn't want me to ask.
"Well, Bonnie's had a lot of work done on the engine — it's only a few years old, really."
I raised a brow once more, wondering if he really thought I would give up so easily. "When did she buy it?"
"She bought it in 1984, I think."
"New?"
"Well, no... I think it was new in the early seventies — or late sixties at the earliest," he admitted sheepishly.
"Oh Dad… you know I know next to nothing about cars. If it ever had problems or broke down, I wouldn't be able to fix it. And, I definitely wouldn't have money for a mechanic."
"Really, Edythe, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore. Besides, if you ever did run into problems… you know I have more than enough to help you out."
My lips pursed. One thing I didn't like was taking money, so if anything did happen, it was more than likely that I would be walking to school for the rest of my days rather than asking my dad for cash to fix it.
"Just exactly how cheap is cheap?" It would be the deal-breaker after all.
"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." My father peeked over at me with a hopeful look.
He… already bought it?
"Dad… you didn't have to do that you know. I was going to buy myself a car anyways-"
"Edy, really, it's more than alright. I want you to be happy here, so I'm gonna try my darned best to make that happen." He spoke, voice dropping slightly as he finished. I saw his face peak over at me once more – this time with a smile.
I was taken back by this.
My mother and I had never been the closest despite living together for years, so I wasn't used to having someone be so expressive about caring for me. I couldn't help but feel slightly choked up as I quickly glanced out the window, not letting him see the slight tears that built up in my eyes.
"Thanks, dad. I really appreciate it." My voice faltered slightly."
"W-well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my honest thanks.
During the rest of the ride, there was casual chitchat, exchanging remarks on the weather and what living with him would be like.
We soon passed by a sign saying 'Welcome to Forks', and I knew that my journey had begun. Glancing out the window, I admired the landscape, as it was all different shades of green. Vastly different from Chicago, and I didn't know if that was a bad thing or not.
We soon made it to my father's. He still lived in the two-story house that he had bought with my mother when they were young. And there, parked in the driveway in front of the house, was my new – well, new to me – truck. It had large square-shaped fenders, and was faded green. I felt myself chuckle under my breath from the irony. It was big – bigger than anything I had ever drove anyway, but to my surprise, I was absolutely captivated by it.
"Holy moly, dad. It looks really great, Thanks!" At least now I wasn't as nervous for my first day of school. There wasn't going to be any walking two miles to get to school nor hitching a ride in the Ferrari that looked more luxurious than anything else in town.
I saw the edge of my father's eyes crinkle as he gave me a modest smile. "Well, I'm glad you like it."
Between myself and my father, it only took one trip to carry all of my stuff in the house and upstairs. He showed me to the bedroom which faced over the front yard; it was the room I was meant to grow up in as a baby. Shame it didn't last. The room was spacious, with a window facing out the front of the house and one facing the side. Brand new red curtains hung from them, which was identical to the color of the blanket that was on the bed.
"Sales lady picked out the sheets and stuff. Y-you like red… right?"
"Red's cool." I nodded, giving him a dimpled smile.
There was a beat of silence.
"Well, I'll uh… just leave you to it." He said before silently scuffing his way out the door.
My father wasn't good at holding casual chitchat, that was for sure. But in a way, I was glad, as it left me to mindlessly roam around my room, taking everything in. A raggedy armchair sat in the corner – why it was there and who it had belong to, I hadn't any idea. It suited the room though. There was a desk which held a fairly new computer, along with a phone line stapled along the floor to the nearest jack. The thought of how much it had costed made me shutter slightly.
I gazed out the window, looking every which way to see if I could spot anything through the thick fog. No luck. I began unpacking my things one by one, carelessly shoving things into drawers. I wasn't exactly the most organized person, but that didn't mean I was a slob. I was messy, but in a clean kind of way. I strolled out into the hallway towards the bathroom – the one I would use all to myself. My father's room was downstairs, and he had his own bathroom attached, so that was a plus.
Forks High School had a diminutive total of just three-hundred and fifty-seven (now fifty-eight) students. It was a bizarre concept for me, as my junior class alone had over a thousand students. What was worse was that here, all of the kids had grown up together.
I would be an outsider.
But who knows, maybe the people I would meet tomorrow would welcome me with open arms and a warm smile. I could only hope.
I glanced up into the bathroom mirror. My mother had always told me we looked so much alike. I didn't really see it, though I didn't find that I looked much like my father either. Kind of like a mix between the two, physically and personality-wise. His bronze hair, her green eyes, his mannerisms, and her sense of humor. I never really considered myself to be beautiful, but nonetheless I was still happy with how I looked. My skin was slightly pale, but it didn't make me stand out in Chicago, and it certainly wouldn't here. I wouldn't doubt if half the town had some form of vitamin D deficiency.
I didn't sleep too great that night. I wasn't unfamiliar with the sound of the rain that beat off the roof, though it was distracting - as were my wandering thoughts, thinking of every possible way the next day could go wrong. It was during the early hours of the morning that I finally drifted off to sleep.
The fog somehow had gotten thicker in the morning, and I couldn't help but sigh as I stared out the window, knowing that it definitely wasn't going to help me navigate to the school in which I had never been to.
The lack of sleep was clearly written on my face, as the dark lines under my eyes ratted me out to the world. I contemplated putting makeup on over it, but decided against in the end, figuring it was just too much work. I tried to skip down the stairs and into the kitchen with a smile on my face which proved difficult. The anxiety at the pit of my stomach seemed to not want to disperse.
Breakfast with my father wasn't eventful. He surprised me by making pancakes – something that did brighten my dampened day ever so slightly. After explaining my worries on getting lost in town, he drew me a makeshift map on how to get to the school, before wishing me luck. He left first, off to his law firm. After he left, I found my self roaming around the spacious home, studying every detail. It was all fairly tidy, but to be fair most of it did also look unused. The scattered pictures that were hung around the house either consisted of my father and his friends, or me. It was sad. Besides myself, he didn't really have any family. Both of his parents had died long before I was even born, and as far as I could tell, he didn't keep up with any relatives either. The guilt that I felt while staring at a small framed photo of him and myself was crushing. While I didn't know if he even felt lonely or not, I still should have insisted on visiting him more often then I had.
But that was all in the past. I was here now, and that's what mattered most.
I didn't want to be too early to school, but my mind was drawing a blank on what I could possibly do while I waited. I went over to the rack to pull on my rain coat, and then slid on my water-proof boots.
The rain grew immensely louder when I stepped out the front door. I actually couldn't recall the last time I saw it pour down so hard. I would need to get used to it, as this was the everyday weather here. I got the key from under the mat to lock up before making my way down the steps to my truck. I half-sprinted to the door, ripping open the handle and jumping into shelter.
The inside of the truck felt as damp as it had been outside. Hints of tobacco and peppermint met my nose, though it was fairly clean. Edward or Bonnie must have cleaned up. I slid the key into the ignition, and shockingly, the engine started quickly, but idled at top volume with a heavy rumble. The antique radio worked, which was a major bonus in my books. I found myself twisting the dials, searching for that familiar channel that played all classical songs.
It would be accurate to say I was most certainly a Debussy enthusiast, so when I heard Clair de Lune start playing, I felt my tense self relax somewhat, thankful for at least one thing that felt familiar from this very unfamiliar day.
I found the school with surprisingly little difficulty. It was just off the highway – like most things were. It wasn't obvious it was a school; the only indication was the sign which declared it was Forks High School. There were multiple maroon-bricked buildings, with many trees and shrubs surrounding the area. There was no feeling of institution, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
I parked in front of the first building, which had a sign over the door that read FRONT OFFICE. No one else had been parked there, so I was worried that for some reason it was off limits. I assumed it would be alright if I was just getting directions. A smart play on my part, so I didn't go wandering around in the pouring rain like a dolt.
I scuttled out into the rain and towards the door as quickly as I could manage. The bell made a chime as I opened it. The inside was brightly lit, which was a nice change from the gloomily dark outside. I couldn't help but stifle a laugh, as the whole room was filled with all kinds of potted plants, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was split down the middle by a large counter, cluttered by papers and supplies. Three desks sat behind it; one containing a balding man with glasses. I remained behind the counter, shifting back and forth on the heels of my feet while waiting for the man to notice me, but he was too engrossed in whatever thing he was doing, so I ended up having to clear my throat.
The man looked in my direction, eyeing me over with a surprised face. "Can I help you?"
"I'm Edythe Masen," I informed him. It took a moment before the recognition to hit, and he was quickly scuffling to his feet and to the counter.
"Of course," he said as he began to dig around through the papers on his desk, but kept peeking back up at me every few seconds. That made me feel rather uncomfortable. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." He brought several sheets to the counter, fanning them out to show. I couldn't help but notice the top of each paper was labeled with my name, which had been incorrectly spelled 'Edith'.
He went through my classes with me, rather slowly might I say. I didn't want to acknowledge it, but it seemed that he wanted to keep me here longer for some ungodly reason. He highlighted the best routes to get to each of my classes on every map, then gave me a slip that I would need to get each of my teachers to sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. He smiled at me a bit too friendly as he wished like my father that I would enjoy it here in Forks.
I jogged back out to the truck, to which I noticed the other students had already begun to arrive, so I quickly revved the engine to life and made my way back around the school, following what seemed to be the last bit of traffic.
Thanks to that balding man, I was going to be late on my first day. Perfect.
It was nice to see that most of the students' vehicles were old much like my own, so besides the blaring engine, I didn't stand out. The newest looking thing was what I guess to be a black Mercedes, which probably costed more than all of the vehicles in the lot combined. I shut off the truck instantly after parking in one of the few remaining spaces, so as I didn't draw any attention. I gathered up my things and tossed it all into my bag. Opening the door with the map in hand and the bag slung around my shoulder, I closed it again then attempted to reach back to pull my hood up. As soon as I let it go, a gust blew it right back down. I sighed at this, not bothering to try again.
I made my way across the lot and hopped up onto the sidewalk, following behind a few figures. With the map in front of my face the whole time, I soon found myself walking into the building that I was closest to, building five. My first class was Calculus with a Ms. Varner. Not exactly the best subject to start my first day with, so I prayed that the teacher would cut me at least the tiniest bit of slack.
Embarrassingly enough, I was the last student to arrive. The class room was quite small, especially compared to the ones in my previous school. I hurriedly walked through the rows of desks filled with students as I made my way to the front of the class. I passed the slip to the teacher, a narrow woman with thinning hair. She gawked at me after seeing my name, which wasn't very encouraging. I felt multiple eyes boring into my back as I impatiently waited for Ms. Varner to sign the slip. Much to my displeasure, she made me introduce myself to the class before sending me to sit at an empty desk in the back corner of the room, next to a short girl with bushy black hair. I figured that in the back, it would be difficult for my new classmates to stare at me, but somehow they managed.
I soon found out that the things they were learning in Calculus now were things I had already learned months ago, so that was relieving, yet dull. Mostly dull. At the end of the class, the bushy haired girl who sat by me turned in her seat.
"…Hi." Her shy voice spoke, which had caught my attention as I was putting my things away.
"Hello." I greeted warmly with a smile. Everyone within a ten foot radius turned to us.
"I'm Becca."
"I'm Edythe."
She almost seemed mesmerized. "Would you like help getting to you're next class?"
"That would be very nice. Thank you." I graciously accepted, which seemed to put a smile on her face. People were still staring at us, now with awe-struck faces.
Was a new kid really this captivating? I thought to myself. I guess nothing really did happen in this small town, so I could understand it.
"I think I have Government next with Jefferson. Building Six."
I grabbed my coat off the back of the seat, before following Becca out the door, but not before noticing her getting her coat that was hung on a rack along with many others. I ought to do that next time.
"So, you finding Forks much different than Chicago?" she asked me as we headed out into the rain. I was taken back for a moment, wondering how she knew I was from Chicago.
Oh right, small town.
"It's not too bad. Definitely a lot more rain." I laughed, which she joined in on.
I caught a glance behind us, as people seemed to be walking quite closely, obviously trying to eavesdrop.
The walk was short, as building six was right next to five. I felt slight disappointment as Becca waved goodbye to head to her next class. I could only hope that others would be as nice and welcoming as her.
The morning went by in about the same fashion. I didn't have to introduce myself to the class in neither of my next two classes which was a bonus. By the end of English, I began recognising a few of the faces. More people did come up to introduce themselves to me – some braver than others – and asked various questions about how I was liking Forks. I wasn't treated like an outsider, and that in itself felt like a miracle.
I soon made route to the Gymnasium, which had been my next class. I was getting excited, as lunch would soon arrive, meaning I survived about half of the school day so far without a hitch. The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, said I could sit out for the day if I wanted to, since she didn't have a uniform ready for me yet. Not wanting to get my clothes all stunk up for the afternoon classes, I accepted her offer.
I walked to lunch behind a boy who's head was shaved so close you could see his scalp. The thing that caught my attention was how he walked. It was so graceful, almost like a ballet dancer. He practically burst through the cafeteria doors, and while I couldn't see his face, I could only assume it was with confidence.
I found myself walking over to a lineup. I wasn't too hungry, but I knew if I didn't eat then, I wouldn't be eating for another four hours. I picked out an apple and a bottle of water – something basic, as the pizza there looked greasy enough to make me sick. I found myself eyeing around the cafeteria, looking for an empty table to sit, when I saw Becca waving at me with a smile. She patted the open seat next to her, where she sat with a group of people.
As I sat down next to her, she began introducing me to her friends. As she listed them out, I tried my hardest to remember each of the names, but I forgot almost immediately.
It was there, listening to seven curious strangers talk when I first spotted them.
At first, I didn't really know what I was looking at. There were five students, sitting in the farthest end of the cafeteria, away from everyone else. They didn't talk nor eat, though they each did have a tray of untouched food placed in front of them. Everyone of them, staring in different directions all over the room, not making a single movement. Like statues.
The first thing that struck me was how insanely beautiful each of them were. They all so similarly shared that beauty, yet at the same time, they looked nothing alike. There were three boys; the first was one that I quickly recognized as the boy who I had walked behind on my way here, with a chiselled yet smooth face and a shaved head which was pitch black. Another was taller, bulkier, and had golden hair that was tied up into a bun. The kind of guy you saw at the gym who had first dibs on any equipment he wanted. The last boy was leaner (but not as lean as the first), and had a more boyish quality to him compared to the other two. His hair was a rich brown which was slightly messy, but a good messy.
The two girls were almost opposites. One was tall. That I could easily tell. It looked as though her legs went on forever. She had dark hair draped down over her shoulders. Another thing, she looked just as familiar to the weight room as the golden haired boy. The other girl had wavy blonde hair, and was shorter and smaller than the rest, but that didn't stop her from looking seriously intimidating. Her face looked ferocious in a way, but still controlled.
All so vastly different, yet they all shared that beauty that was inhuman, and each of their eyes glowed the color of golden honey. They were all chalky pale too.
Before I realised it was happening, one of the boys – the one with the shaved head – glanced over towards me, his eyes narrowing just a fraction, before quickly shifting away before I even had the chance to tare my gaze from them and glance down at the table.
"W-Who are they?" I asked Becca, uneasily. She looked up to see who I meant, though I could already tell she knew who I was asking about.
"That's Archie and Eleanor Cullen, Royal and Jessamine Hale, and Beaufort Swan. They all live with Dr. Cullen and her husband." She said loud enough for the table to hear, though they were all to busy talking to each other that they didn't overhear.
I glanced back over to them. The brown haired boy was now the only one moving, as he seemed to almost play with a loaf of bread in his hands. That's when I noticed that the shaved head boy seemed to be talking; his lips moving very quickly.
How strange. They all seemed to have unpopular names. Like the ones that grandparents had. Like mine.
"They are… very nice-looking." I struggled with the conspicuous understatement.
"Yes!" Becca agreed. "They're all together though — Eleanor and Royal, and Jessamine and Archie, I mean."
"Which are the Cullens?" I asked her. "They don't really look related-"
"Oh, they aren't. They're all foster children. Dr. Cullen is really young – early thirty's or late twenties."
"Oh… They look a little old to be foster children."
"They are now, Jessamine and Royal are both eighteen, but they've been with Mr. Cullen since they were eight. He's their uncle or something like that."
"That's very nice of them – to take care of all those kids at such a young age that is."
"Yeah, it is." Becca agreed.
During our conversation, I found myself sneaking glances over at the pretty people, questioning if I was going to see them do anything at all – almost like someone looking through the glass at sleeping zoo animals. They still weren't eating.
"Did they always live in Forks?" I turned to ask her.
"No, they actually just moved here two years ago down from somewhere in Alaska."
Ah, so they were outsiders much like myself. But unlike them, I wasn't being treated like an outsider. I couldn't help but feel pity for them.
As I continued to examine them, the youngest-looking boy with the brown hair met my gaze; his eyes so wide and innocent looking. I quickly looked away, but after a moment, I glanced back, which I caught him still staring at me.
"Which one is the boy with the brown hair?" I asked Becca, looking down at the table once again.
"That's Beaufort. He's really shy, I think. If I recall, I've never actually heard him speak a single word."
After a few minutes, the five of them all abruptly rose all at once, then walked out of the cafeteria together. They all had that similar graceful loop that the shaved-headed boy seemed to have, even the brawny one.
I sat at the table with Becca and her friends longer than I would have if I'd been sitting alone. I didn't want to be late to class, so I excused myself, hearing everyone shout their goodbyes, and I gave a smile at them before fleeing to my next class.
I reached into my bag to retrieve my schedule. I had Biology with Mrs. Banner next. Building two. I got the occasional stare as I walked past people, and felt a little too relieved when I finally reached my location. I hung my coat on one of the hanger's hooks before glancing around. Most of the tables seemed to be already filled up. People were sitting with partners. I quickly spotted the brown haired boy - Beaufort. He was reading a biology book that was laid out in front of him.
I made my way through the isles, slip in hand, ready to introduce myself to the teacher. But as I passed by the brown haired boy, he went ridged in his seat, and his head whipped up, exposing wild-looking eyes. I flinched at this, giving him a face in which I could only assume was shocked mixed with a little bit of confusion. I whipped back around before stiffly staggering forward to pass the slip to the teacher.
Mrs. Banner signed it and passed me a book, no questions asked. She was already becoming my favorite. That quickly changed as she sent me to sit in the seat next to the brown haired boy.
I paced over toward my new table partner with slow and easy steps. His eyes were back down onto his book, though his honey golden eyes were widened with what looked to be fear. As I placed my book onto the table, his eyes met mine once more, and they looked even more fearful than before. His hand shot up to pinch his nose as he rapidly looked away from me.
What was with this reaction?
As I took my seat, I saw his posture change, as he shifted himself on the very edge of his seat, far away from me; the death grip on his nose only grew tighter as his eyes clenched shut. I could merely only gape at this. What was wrong with this boy… Why was he acting like he smelt something horrid?
I turned my head ever so slightly to take a whiff of my hair. It smelled like shampoo, how could that be offensive? My eyes flicked back to him. He now no longer had a hand pinching his nose, but instead it was now clenched into a fist and was placed on is thigh. His eyes were open once again, and they seemed just as scared as before.
Mrs. Banner did a lecture on cellular anatomy, something I'd already studied. I took notes anyway in hopes of distracting myself from the odd boy sitting next to me. As time passed, I couldn't help but feel my temper get the best of me.
Who did this boy think he was? To act so… harshly mean towards me for absolutely no reason. This was definitely not because of shyness, that was for sure. But the more I focused on my notes, the more I also began focusing on the boy.
It was so strange. Usually I could read people like a book, but I just couldn't understand what was going on as I sat at that table, constantly peaking over at the brown-haired boy who's fist never released from an unclenched state.
I caught him glancing over at me, which he immediately looked away with what appeared to be a disgusted face.
He was acting preposterous.
At that point, my temper was flying off the charts, and it was taking everything within me to not call the boy out on his rude behaviour. The class was dragging on, and my eyes were glued to the clock, watching it go slowly round and round. When it was the last minute of class, I planned ahead, shoving all my books into my bag before slinging it over my shoulder. Just as the bell rang, I swiftly rose from my seat, stalking out of the classroom, grabbing my coat along the way, not daring to look back at him.
Like Biology, Spanish didn't seem to go by fast enough. I couldn't concentrate on the teacher as my mind kept wandering back to what had happened in my last class. It was utterly absurd to think that such a vile person could exist. The fact that he seemed to already have made a judgement on me despite us conversing not even once had me mindlessly writing in my notebook with a pencil much harder than needed.
I should have expected this of course. My first day was going far too well, so something had to turn bad. How typical. My very first day, and some random boy already hates my existance.
Or does he?
Was I just completely overeating. Had I completely misread all of the actions and expressions he had shown me? That seemed unlikely, but at the same time, maybe I was becoming overconfident in my skills.
That couldn't be it though. Those faces he made at me were anything but friendly, but at the same time, maybe he was just different. Maybe he was so shy that all those reactions were just him merely freaking out that some stranger had been sitting next to him. I couldn't think of any other possible reason, so I settled for that.
The bell rang, and I made my way out into the drizzling rain towards the front office.
When I opened the door, I sighed with relief, feeling the warmth hit my face. Though, as I glanced at the counter, my mood quickly went sour once again.
Beaufort was standing there, speaking in a soft whisper to the receptionist. I inched my way closer, and I pretty quickly picked up the gist of the conversation. He was trying to switch out of biology for another time – any other time.
Was it really crazy to believe that this was about me?
The door behind me opened; the wind from the outside blowing my hair in front of me as a student walked in, placed a piece of paper on the desk, and left once again. But Beaufort Swan's face told another story. He stiffly glanced behind, his bright eyes now daggering into mine.
This most definitely was about me.
"Never mind," he said. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you anyways for your help."
And just like that, he turned on the balls of his feet, and marched stiffy out the door. I could only shake my head in disbelief as I strutted to the counter, passing the slip over to the man.
"How was your first day, dear?"
"Fine." I gritted through my teeth. Way to be convincing.
After letting me go, I then strutted back out the door and to my truck, not caring to pull my hood up. I slammed the door a little too harshly after I got in. I then let out a long lasting groan as my head fell onto the wheel.
"Nice start to the school year, Edythe." I scolded myself. I twisted the key in the ignition, hearing it loudly roar to life. My hand had a tight grip on the clutch as I ripped it down, reversing out of the parking space. I shifted back into drive before speeding my way back to my father's house, trying my hardest not to think of anything.
AN: So more or less a rewrite of Life and Death just for fun. I always wondered how Edythe would react in the situations Beau was always put in and vice versa. I do intend to keep Edythe strong and independent, just like how she was when she was a vampire! So that'll be pretty fun to write.