This chapter would correspond to "First sight." It takes place on Tuesday, January 18, 2005.
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CHAPTER 5:
Bloodied
Without stopping to look at her, I wanted to get away from her.
I don't know if I was going to run out of class screaming or call for help from the teacher, but I couldn't even try. My fingers, lightly stained with ink and sweat, were stuck to the other end of the sheet of paper like a sticky gekko on a wall, and Gail Rouse was determined to keep it safe, her gaze fixed on mine.
Hers face, though obviously stern, did not seem as furious as before...
She was just irritated.
That reminded me of one of the few Girl Scout lessons I had received in Phoenix, one afternoon when they were teaching how to differentiate between various wild animals. The monitor used large sheets of full-color photographs of the animals in different poses to illustrate her lesson.
The class of small mammals was the one that impressed me the most.
I remember that she had introduced us to a raccoon running around happily so that we could notice its distinctive markings on its fur and then she showed us the terrifying wolverine, crouching with its mouth open and its long teeth in full view:
"This animal can tear you apart just by looking at you" she commented after the girls guessed its name and identified its differences. "It is one of the most aggressive and territorial animals that exist, it will never be intimidated by any opponent it sees, no matter how big it is, and it will even attack pumas and bears. The only option is to flee as quickly as possible to a safe place and get away from its territory. But today, scouts, I want you to understand that there are greater threats than this one, so obvious."
Miss Svensson (my heart pumping with adrenaline I remembered her name!) showed us the picture of the badger in a playful pose, like the raccoon, which she had already shown us at the beginning of the class.
"I bet none of you would think a badger was dangerous?" she asked, and then, without waiting for us to answer, she turned the picture over, leaving us open-mouthed. "And now what?"
It wasn't the same badger, or at least it didn't look like it, for it now bared its teeth and arched its back like a wild cat about to strike. Miss Svensson had moved the double-sided poster from beside the frisky raccoon to the ill-tempered wolverine.
They're identical, except for their fur, was what I thought that afternoon when I was seven years old.
"Badgers are rarely aggressive unless you engage them or provoke them in some way," she explained, placing her elbows on hers knees to crouch down closer to us. "A badger will attack you without hesitation if its life or that of its young is threatened, and like a wolverine, it can kill creatures much larger than itself… Remember, Scouts. Never. Irritate. A. Badger." She emphasized her speech exaggeratedly, turning each word into a separate sentence.
Then, to lighten the mood, she instructed us about the incomparable skunk, which we were not to laugh at, because when we thought it was turning its back to flee in a cowardly manner, it was actually preparing to attack us with its stench.
I didn't expect Gail Rouse to suddenly turn around and fart on me.
Her eyes, like blue beacons in the darkest night, quickly turned downwards and then back up to stare at me persistently, three times in a row, withering. It was a very clear signal for me to get away from what belonged to hers.
I removed my little finger and thumb, my heart pounding in my chest as if it wanted to escape and travel back to Phoenix on its own. One by one, I pulled the others off the piece of paper, all the while watching Gail Rouse, who remained tense and crouched, waiting for a mistake on my part so she could pounce on me.
I could hear the sheet scrape against the gritty ground as she jerked it aside, but I kept my eyes locked on her, holding me completely in place.
She calmly folded the paper in half three times before putting it in her jacket pocket, then slid (still half crouched and noiselessly!) into her seat. It was all in one amazing movement, using only her ankles and knees. Very much in the style of what they called parkour, which I had heard my old classmates in Phoenix say, but also like a writhing snake.
I didn't have the same style in standing up, I was stiff and not only did my joints creak, but my spine was still rigid from the tension. Mr. Banner's face soured as my head popped out from the others, he loudly clicked his tongue and continued his speech in a much louder, deeper tone, drilling me with his passive-aggressive rage until I was able to settle my butt into my new seat and disappear into the rest of the class as if I had wandered into a cornfield.
A phrase crossed my mind: If looks could kill…
That was so unfair!
And I got reprimanded too!
I didn't turn my gaze to the right when I opened my book, but I did shift my posture slightly. I leaned in the opposite direction from my classmate, sitting almost on the edge of my chair, shivering involuntarily. I turned my face away and let my hair fall over my right shoulder to create a dark screen between us and tried to give the teacher my full attention to calm myself down.
Unfortunately, the lecture was about cell anatomy, a topic I had already studied. I took careful notes anyway, without taking my eyes off my notebook.
I needed to keep my mind off what had just happened.
But I couldn't help myself, and every now and then I glanced through my hair at Gail Rouse. Her left arm rested on the black lab table, marking an unquestionable boundary between us. But she kept her eyes closed every time I caught sight of her. Anyone would have thought she was sleeping soundly, but her face was so tense and contrite with pain that she looked like she was about to collapse.
I could still feel his hostility and anger, repelling me like we were poles of magnets that were not aligned, causing me to slide further and further to the edge of the chair.
I tried to follow along with the class lecture, when Mr. Banner started with the parts of the endoplasmic reticulum and its role in protein synthesis and homeostasis, but I failed miserably. I knew all of this stuff by heart and there really wasn't anything new, or interesting enough, to divert my train of thought from the station I was avoiding.
What was on that paper? a little voice whispered insidiously from the back of my head... It was the softest version of what my neurons were screaming at the top of their lungs and making me tremble all over: WHAT THE HELL WAS ON THAT #%&%# PAPER TO MAKE SHE GO LIKE A BASILISK?!
Leaving myself to the realm of speculation, I began to ponder in an attempt to rationalize her behavior. It must be something too shameful or secret for her to be so upset about it. Perhaps a romantic letter from an admirer or boyfriend? A caricature of her that had been posted in the girls' bathroom to mock him? The stolen answers to a test for some subject? The undisclosed map of a military facility that would self-destruct ten seconds after being read...?
Okay, my brain couldn't handle much else in that state of extreme restlessness.
My foot slipped on a pencil I'd forgotten to pick up from the floor and I was suddenly leaning over the edge of the stool, at an angle dangerously steeper than the Leaning Tower of Pisa. I didn't hit the floor a second time because Gail Rouse's arm shot out so fast in my direction that it was a blur in my side vision, she grabbed me firmly by the shoulders and with a dizzying yank she placed me back in the centre of the seat without anyone noticing my second setback of the day, before instantly freeing me.
I gasped softly, my guard down at the sudden way Gail Rouse had placed her hands on me.
"Th... thank... you" I articulated only with my lips, not being able to get enough air out of my lungs to be able to speak in whispers. I think I would start hyperventilating at any moment if I had one more start.
The sudden jolt had caused the sleeve of her jacket to ride up almost to her elbows.
I could see her forearm, surprisingly strong and wiry, wrapped around the huge black bandana, twisted round and round in a knot to rival the Gordian. I lingered a few extra seconds in this contemplation until Gail Rouse's hand clenched into a fist and I looked up. She was examining me again with those blue eyes of hers, full of condescending bitterness.
Oh, shot! I felt anxious as I remembered the kind of rumors Jessica had told me about in the cafeteria. I hadn't meant to... Oh, wow!
A slight shift in Gail Rouse's eyebrows altered her expression, rendering it unmovable.
She knew what I had heard!
She thought I had bought into that gossip!
Although she had left before she could read Lauren's friends' lips, it was certainly not the first time she had been criticized in this way.
I turned my face back to the classroom blackboard, whose words and chalk drawings seemed like complete gibberish to me.
The lesson seemed to drag on much longer than the others. Was it because my brain was overloaded or because I was waiting for Gail Rouse to unclench her clenched fist?
She didn't open it.
I dared to peek at her once more through my curtain of hair and regretted it. She had her eyes closed again, her jaw clenched in pain. I parted my dry lips to ask her if she was okay…
The bell rang at that moment.
I jumped at that and Gail Rouse hopped up from her seat as if on a spring. In the blink of an eye she was through the classroom door before anyone else had even gotten up from their chairs.
I stood there, staring blankly as he left without giving me the slightest chance to apologize. He was truly despicable. I began to gather my things very slowly, trying to suppress the anger that was overwhelming me, afraid that my eyes would fill with tears.
I used to cry when I got angry, a humiliating tendency.
"Aren't you Bella Swan?" a male voice asked me.
Looking up, I saw a handsome boy with a boyish face and spiky blond hair carefully arranged with gel.
He gave me a kind smile.
"Yes" I replied with a smile, relieved that my aphaeresis was working.
"My name is Mike."
"Hi, Mike."
"Do you need me to help you find the next class?"
"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."
"That's my next class, too."
He seemed thrilled, although it wasn't much of a coincidence in such a small school.
We went together. he was a chatterer—he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He had lived in California until he was ten, so he also understood how I felt about the absence of the sun. He turned out to be the nicest, most balanced person I had met that day. Maybe the crazy three-week theory was true and I just had to hold on until I got used to this hellish climate.
When we were about to enter the gym, he stopped and asked me, very worried:
"So, did you stab Gail Rouse with a pencil or something? I've never seen her act like that before."
Earth, swallow me I thought with a hint of relief. At least I wasn't the only person who had noticed this sudden, eerie change, and apparently this wasn't Gail Rouse's usual behavior.
I decided to play dumb.
"I must have stepped on her toe by accident." I improvised, shrugging.
After the disastrous stumble I had had, I no longer saw any point in hiding my clumsiness.
"Yeah," he answered "She looked hurt or something... Normally she's really cool, but today she seemed upset. Don't hold it against her "he added, apologizing for his friend's conduct. "She's really good at Biology, although Banner has never let her have company in his classes, because he thinks we'd cheat."
I smiled at him before walking through the door to the girls' locker room. He was friendly and clearly interested in us getting along, but that wasn't enough to lessen my anger one bit.
Coach Clapp, the gym teacher who didn't look like Jennifer had any of the-orcish-appeal he was talking about, got me a uniform, but he didn't make me wear it to class that day. In Phoenix, we only had to attend two years of P.E.. Here, it was a required subject for all four years. Forks was my personal hell on earth in the most literal sense of the word.
I watched the four volleyball games being played simultaneously. I felt sick watching them and remembering the many hits I had given, and received, when I played volleyball.
The bell finally rang, signaling the end of classes. I walked slowly to the office to hand in the receipt with the signatures. It had stopped raining, but the wind was colder and blowing harder. I wrapped my arms around myself for protection.
I was about to turn around and head straight to my truck when I approached the main building. Gail Rouse was leaning next to her motorcycle —of course, it had to be hers, the only one on campus!— with the same fake nonchalance she'd displayed at lunch.
What's she going to tell me now? I was beginning to think that the 'Crazy Chippewa Chick' was a nickname that really suited her, her unpredictable mood swings did nothing but baffle me.
She pretended to be surprised when she saw me approaching slowly —I couldn't turn around in time!— and with one swift movement she moved off her bike, taking two small steps to get in my way.
"Bella, I was waiting for you," she exclaimed in a cheerful, non-threatening tone.
"..." I went completely blank, unable to answer her, because I had a flashback to my repressed elementary years, in fourth grade. When the official class bully, Eloise Hammond, cornered me in a hallway at the back of class and dragged me to the bathrooms to dunk my head in the toilet bowl. With all the puddles of stagnant water in the parking lot, Gail Rouse wouldn't need a toilet nearby.
"I'm sorry I scared you earlier in class," she apologized unexpectedly with a slight smile, but then all evidence of joking disappeared and she added in a lower tone of voice: "It's just that I got my period."
My jaw dropped slightly in surprise, but I quickly recovered and didn't open my mouth in a ridiculous manner at such an unexpected and intimate revelation.
Oh, wow! How had I not thought of that?! I muttered with my most caustic sarcasm and kept from rolling my eyes in sheer exasperation. Her period was a perfect explanation for some of her behavior… But what the hell was with her strange panic attacks? Granted, I got nervous too those days and my emotions were on edge, but I couldn't stop thinking that there was something more going on…
"Are you okay? Do you need… anything? Tampons? Pads?" I offered, out of pure automatic female solidarity, developed over a lustrum that had tinted every page of the calendar red, but it took me a few tenths of a second to realize that I hadn't brought any of that to school today, or even to Forks. My 'week of terror' had been right before the trip, just like my mother's.
With my bad luck, I was sure I would end up syncing with Gail Rouse.
"Don't worry, I'm ready," she smiled at me, but her eyes couldn't hide her convalescent and painful expression.
"You could have told me something in class instead of…" I objected, offended, with a slight tone of daring that unexpectedly welled up in my gut. The Crazy Chippewa Chick was wearing down my patience.
"Act like a total lunatic?" Gail Rouse finished, shrugging one shoulder. "I couldn't explain anything to you either, not with Mike Newton hanging on to our conversation the whole time... he's got better hearing than a Bat! I was feeling pretty sick, so I've been getting some fresh air until I cleared my head."
"You skipped sixth class?!" I interrupted incredulously.
She smiled widely with her mouth in such a way that it reminded me of a desert toad that had found a pool of fresh water.
"It's healthy to ditch class once in a while," she said, bringing out her white ivory pieces and shifting her weight. "It was just Spanish class and Professor Goff lets me skip out if there's no new vocabulary. You should try it sometime."
I unconsciously shook my head at her encouraging and tempting tone.
"No, I couldn't… never," I muttered self-consciously, adjusting the strap of my backpack over my shoulder. I was too much of a coward to risk getting caught truant.
"You know what they say: Never say nev... Hey, Samantha!" she broke off as a student walked right past us, heading in a hurry to the main office and darting out the next minute. "¡Hasta mañana, iguana!"
"Adiosito, Abi!" the girl with short brown hair said goodbye, also in Spanish and with a gasp, before disappearing.
"Where was I going?" Gail Rouse exclaimed, her elliptical eyebrows furrowing into a perfect V, like a seagull's beak...
Enough already! I had to mentally reprimand myself and stop using these ridiculous similes. Gail Rouse was not a walking zoo of allegories, just an eleventh grade girl, just like me.
"You were trying in vain to undermine my integrity," I argued with a derisive tone.
To be translated…
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Twilight-facts: Although it seemed strange to me (compared to Spain), Bella's schedule is always the same, every day. Doors open at 8:00; English in the first period, from 8:15 to 9:13; Government in the second period, from 9:17 to 10:15; A break between 10:19 and 10:36; Trigonometry in the third period, from 10:40 to 11:38; Spanish in the fourth period, from 11:42 to 12:40; Lunch from 12:44 to 13:16; Biology II in the fifth period, from 13:20 to 14:18; PE is in the sixth period, from 2:22 to 3:20 p.m. Every Wednesday (and certain other days on the calendar) the class length is reduced to only 45 minutes and so are the breaks, so they let out at 2:15 p.m. The week before Halloween they have four half days, when they let out at 12:00 p.m. This information was taken from the Quilllayute Valley School District Student and Parent Handbook. The subjets change each semester from what I have been able to research.