"FIND ME!" The cry echoed through my mind, yanking me from sleep with a jolt.
The chilly night air seeped into the room through the open window, the curtains billowing softly in its wake. I scanned the dimly lit space, my heart racing, searching for the source of the haunting voice that seemed so real.
Beside me, Angela lay cocooned beneath layers of quilts, blissfully unaware of the disturbance. Her bed remained undisturbed, a first-day tradition we've kept—sleeping in each other's beds to cope with the overwhelming excitement and anxiety. Shivers danced along my skin as goosebumps prickled my arms and legs, a consequence of my restless tossing and turning throughout the night.
With a resigned sigh, I conceded defeat. "Just a dream," I murmured, pulling the covers tighter around me in a futile attempt to banish the lingering unease. Minutes ticked by, marked only by the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional creak of the old house settling. Frustration bubbled within me as sleep continued to elude me, slipping through my fingers like water.
With a defeated groan, I abandoned the pretense of rest, rubbing the weariness from my eyes as I sat up in bed, casting a glance at Angela. She slept on, undisturbed by the turmoil that plagued my mind. A pang of envy prickled at my thoughts, bitter and resentful of her ability to find solace in slumber.
How were we even related? It was a question that had haunted me since childhood, a stark reminder of my perpetual status as the odd one out in a family of deep sleepers. But amidst the frustration, there was a sense of acceptance, a realization that perhaps my nocturnal vigilance was a gift rather than a curse. In the quiet of the night, I found a sanctuary free from the chaos of the waking world, a sacred space where I could embrace the solitude and find solace in the stillness.
"Get up," I muttered, my voice heavy with exhaustion as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Angela lay beside me, cocooned in a nest of blankets, her breathing slow and even, oblivious to the world around her. Typical. A gust of cold air swept through the room, sending a shiver down my spine.
I cursed under my breath, longing for the warmth of my own bed. With a resigned sigh, I rose from my side of the bed, determined to rouse her from her slumber. "Time to wake up," I announced, tugging at her blanket with a mix of frustration and envy. If I couldn't sleep in, neither could she.
Angela stirred, blinking groggily as she slowly came to her senses. "What's going on?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep as she made room for me in her cocoon. I crawled in beside her, relishing the warmth of her embrace as I nestled closer. "We've got to get ready for school," I reminded her, my words muffled by the plush comforter.
Angela let out a contented hum, still half-asleep and far from ready to face the day. As I shifted around in the bed, hoping to annoy her into wakefulness, Angela tightened her grip around me, holding me in place with surprising strength. "Stop it, or I'll kick you," she mumbled, her threat softened by the drowsiness in her voice.
Refusing to be confined, I nudged her aside, only to find myself unceremoniously dumped onto the floor, tangled in a mess of sheets and blankets. With a yelp, I struggled to free myself, my limbs thrashing about as I fought against the fabric.
Angela groaned in annoyance, finally stirring from her slumber. "You're such a nuisance," she grumbled, scooting to the edge of the bed to peer down at me with bleary eyes. Ignoring her, I continued to wrestle with the sheets, determined to extricate myself from their clutches.
"We should start getting dressed. Don't want to be late for the first day." I huffed at Angela, who was already rummaging through my side of the closet.
"I totally forgot to pick out something to wear last night." Her tone was anxious as she pushed aside a few hangers, her fingers grazing over different tops in search of the perfect outfit. Before I could offer my opinion, she held up one top and then quickly swapped it for another.
I opened my mouth to suggest the first one, but she had already moved on. Anticipating Angela's indecisiveness, I went to the closet, knowing she would take a while, especially with her tangled hair to deal with. I handed her the black long-sleeve button-up she had initially chosen, then grabbed dark jeans from the drawers and long black wool socks.
"Wear this with those brown boots and coat," I instructed. Angela took the clothes with a grateful smile, planting a quick peck on my cheek—a gesture of thanks she often used with our family.
"You're the best," she said appreciatively. I shrugged in response. "Of course I am." Angela slipped out of the room, seeking the solitude of the bathroom downstairs, a silent agreement between us that Isaac would monopolize the one upstairs.
Hastily, I shed my pajamas and slipped into the clothes I'd laid out the night before, anticipating the chill of the morning air. Black jeans hugged my legs, paired with a crisp white turtleneck instead of the black one, a subtle departure from the monotony of my usual attire. Thick socks pulled snugly over my feet completed the ensemble, ready to be encased in rain boots for the inevitable dampness of the day.
Before leaving the room, I added a cozy gray v-neck sweatshirt, a practical layer to fend off the morning chill—a habit instilled by Mom, who always stressed the importance of keeping warm. With my backpack in hand, along with Angela's, I did a quick inventory to ensure I hadn't forgotten anything crucial.
"Ellie, is Angela already up?" Dad's voice floated from the hallway as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. "Yeah, she's downstairs getting ready," I replied, already making my way down the stairs.
"Good, good," he murmured before turning his attention to me.
"Can you wake up Isaac?" His request was met with a snort of amusement from me.
"Nice try. Mom already told you it's your turn to get him. Angela and I are on our way out," I retorted, not bothering to wait for his response as I descended the stairs.
As I reached the kitchen, I called out to Mom, who was already pouring herself a cup of coffee before heading to the vet clinic with Dad. Mom's straight hair was pulled back into its familiar ponytail, wisps escaping around her face, a few strands framing her features. She sported her favorite green scrubs, adorned with playful paw prints—a nod to her profession.
"He tried to send you off on a suicide mission?" Mom's voice, laced with humor, cut through the air, indicating she'd overheard our conversation. I chuckled in response, setting the bags down on the kitchen table.
"How do I look?" I inquired, seeking her opinion. Leaning casually against the kitchen island, Mom gestured for me to turn around with a playful twirl of her finger.
"That's cute," she commented, her gaze thoughtful. "Just add a jacket. It's going to be cold, and I don't need you getting sick." I rolled my eyes playfully, acknowledging her concern even if I didn't plan to heed her advice.
As I turned my attention to Angela emerging from the bathroom, I noted her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. "A little help?" she requested, seeking my assistance.
Nodding in response, I guided her back into the bathroom, eyeing her outfit critically. She took my suggestions about the brown jacket and matching boots in stride, effortlessly pulling the look together. With a smile, I worked on taming her frizzy hair and securing her ponytail, ensuring everything was just right. Once satisfied, I turned my attention to my own grooming, quickly brushing my hair and teeth before preparing to head out the door.
"Angela, you look stunning. Whose heart are you going to break today?" Mom quipped, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as I rejoined them in the kitchen.
Angela's cheeks flushed a rosy hue, her embarrassment evident. I couldn't help but grin, passing her backpack and snatching up the keys to our trusty old sedan.
"We'll text you after school," I assured Mom, already halfway out the door and heading toward the car. "Wait, you guys didn't eat breakfast," Mom called after us, her concern trailing us out the door.
Angela glanced back over her shoulder, offering a quick reassurance. "We'll eat at school." Mom seemed to accept this with a resigned nod, and I seized the opportunity to dart to the car before she could comment on the extra layer I was missing.
Slipping into the driver's seat, I fired up the engine and cranked the heater to combat the chill in the air. Meanwhile, Angela wasn't as fortunate—Mom snagged her arm, engaging her in a brief conversation. Angela nodded along, and Mom bid her farewell with a kiss on the forehead before waving me off. I returned the gesture, watching as Angela finally joined me in the warmth of the car.
Rubbing my hands together to coax some warmth into them, I waited as Angela buckled up, her relief evident. "I was worried for a second you didn't turn the heater on," she confessed with a chuckle as I reversed out of the driveway.
"What did Mom want?" I inquired, shifting gears as we merged onto the road.
"She asked if we could pick up the 'menace' from school," Angela replied with a smirk, already knowing my reaction. I grimaced, focusing on the road ahead.
"Eww, you agreed, didn't you?" I didn't need confirmation; Angela's sense of responsibility was as predictable as the sunrise.
"Well, yeah," she admitted, nudging me playfully.
"They're swamped with work, and besides, it won't be too bad." I shot her a skeptical glance before redirecting my attention to the traffic.
"You say that as if it isn't a chore." Angela shrugged nonchalantly, tuning the radio to a familiar station.
"It's not really a chore; besides, it's kind of nostalgic to visit our old school and see our teachers." I wrinkled my nose in mild distaste, maneuvering our sedan into the school parking lot.
"Then you're the one getting out of the car and fetching him," I declared as I parked beside Tyler's flashy jeep. He was already outside, flaunting his newly painted ride. Angela waved in his direction, and he flashed a cocky grin in response.
"Another day in lousy Forks," I muttered, feeling the weight of monotony settle on my shoulders. Ang gave my shoulder a reassuring rub, her warmth cutting through my gloom.
"C'mon, it won't be so bad. Before we know it, we'll be graduating and out there, living the college life," she said, her optimism shining through. I grimaced, her words not quite hitting the mark, but I mustered a small smile to show it worked.
She happily got out of the car, waving enthusiastically to Jess, who was bounding over with her usual energy. Mike was still in his car, the window down on the passenger side, as he listened to Tyler go on about his jeep and whatever else seemed interesting.
I groaned, rolling my eyes. I already knew today was going to be horrible. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I watched a sleek silver Volvo pull into a space behind my car. My brow furrowed.
"Whose car is that?" I wondered. It was new and shiny, standing out like a sore thumb among the dark, worn-out vehicles that populated the student parking lot. 'I bet it's a new student,' I thought with a snort, feeling a twinge of pity.
'You won't be making many friends here.' I grabbed my backpack from the back seat and got out, watching Jess squeal to Angela. Sure enough, it wasn't a new student but the Cullens. Edward's shiny new car gleamed under the overcast sky.
"Did he just get a new car?" Tyler asked, his excitement deflating as everyone's attention shifted to Edward's ride, leaving Tyler's jeep unnoticed. I felt a pang of sympathy for Tyler, who had been genuinely excited just a few minutes ago.
"Poor guy," I murmured under my breath, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. The Cullens always had a way of unintentionally overshadowing everyone else, and today was no exception.
The lot soon turned into a spectacle as the rest of the Cullens climbed out of the car. To say they looked good was an understatement and an injustice to society. They all seemed to be walking straight out of the fashion magazines Jess would read during study hour. Their effortless grace and impeccable style made them the undeniable center of attention.
"They're definitely good-looking," Angela muttered, her voice tinged with admiration as she eyed Jess, who was blushing furiously, trying to steal glances at Edward without making it too noticeable. It didn't work.
I paid them no mind as I rummaged through my backpack. I pulled out my schedule, double-checking to ensure I wouldn't have to rush to my first class. As I prepared to leave Angela and her friends behind, Angela called out to me.
"I'll see you at lunch?" she asked, her eyes hopeful. I chewed on my bottom lip, contemplating. Eating with her and the others was definitely better than sitting alone. I nodded, managing a smile.
"Yeah, see you then," I said, waving my schedule at her before turning to face the inevitable: the first day of school.
As I walked away, I could still hear snippets of conversation behind me. Jess was giggling, trying to regain her composure after her failed attempt at subtlety. Angela's encouraging words mixed with the general hum of students buzzing about the Cullens.
I sighed, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread for the day ahead. But, glancing at Angela and Jess laughing together, I decided to try and make the best of it.
Catching sight of the Cullens seamlessly blending into the crowd, their presence still causing ripples of admiration and envy. I shook my head, and focused on the task at hand: navigating through the first day of classes without losing my sanity.
'After all,' I thought, 'high school wouldn't last forever.'