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The Denali Institute for Rebellious and Troubled Teenagers

Chapter Eight

Wednesday 10th August 2011

Edward POV

The cafeteria was already filling with noise by the time I sat down.

Emmett had taken the spot across from me, his plate stacked with food like he was preparing for a long winter hibernation. Tyler was next to him, talking animatedly with his hands, while Bella and Lauren settled in across from each other.

I glanced around the room, noting the few missing faces.

Rosalie wasn't here yet, and neither was Jacob.

Leah was alone at a table by the window, picking at her food with mild disinterest, not looking particularly open to conversation.

And then there was Alice, seated on the other side of the cafeteria, her plate of crepes carefully arranged, posture still and quiet.

She didn't acknowledge anyone.

Didn't react when Jasper arrived, either.

But still, he sat with her.

I watched them passively, observing the way they ate in silence, never exchanging a word, yet somehow existing in sync.

Alice hadn't spoken at all since she got here.

Not once.

And while some people barely noticed her absence, I did. I didn't understand why, but I felt protective of her, in the same way that it seemed Jasper did, too.

She was just… small. Too quiet. Like if you weren't paying attention, she might disappear altogether. And some of the other girls were... snarky to say the least.

The cafeteria grew progressively louder as more people filtered in.

Emmett was already mid-story, his voice booming over the general clatter of plates and conversation.

"So then I'm like, 'Dude, you cannot just piss in someone's gas tank and expect the car to survive.'"

Bella raised a brow. "Who the hell did that?"

Tyler snorted, pointing at himself proudly. "Me. And, in my defense, it was a science experiment. Testing the limits of human stupidity."

Lauren rolled her eyes. "It's not an experiment if there's no control variable. You didn't piss in two gas tanks to see what happened in different conditions. Or piss in one and shit in another."

Tyler paused, genuinely considering that. "Damn. You're right. Missed opportunity."

"That's not what you should have taken from that," Bella muttered.

I smirked slightly, sipping my coffee as the conversation drifted between topics.

I could see myself getting along with Emmett. He was loud, but he wasn't stupid. There was a difference.

Tyler, on the other hand? Good fun. He had zero filter, and while half of what came out of his mouth was ridiculous, the other half was actually entertaining.

Jasper… was inoffensive. Neutral. Quiet in a way that didn't beg for attention.

Jacob, though?

Something about him got under my skin immediately.

I wasn't even sure why yet. It was just there—this irrational irritation that flared up whenever he was too close, too present.

But that wasn't the only person catching my attention lately.

I glanced at Bella, watching the way she absently twisted the cap of her water bottle, eyes flicking between conversations, her mind clearly somewhere else.

She'd been more closed off the first few days, but now?

Now, I was starting to see the pieces of her settling.

And I didn't mind watching.

Lauren, however, was a different story.

Her interest was not subtle.

The way she angled herself toward me, the too-long looks, the way she laughed just a little louder than necessary at things I wasn't even saying.

It wasn't annoying—not exactly. But it wasn't reciprocated, either.

I didn't care about her interest.

Because the girl sitting across from her?

That was the one I was watching more than I should have been.

I forced my attention back to my coffee, ignoring the way Lauren was subtly but persistently leaning herself toward me.

She was playing a long game, I could tell. Dropping hints, testing the waters. It wasn't obnoxious, exactly, but it was obvious.

The problem was, I wasn't interested.

Not in her.

But Bella?

That was different.

I wasn't sure what it was about her. Maybe it was because she wasn't trying.

She wasn't doing anything at all, really—just existing in that moody, distracted way of hers, pushing food around on her plate, looking like she was on the verge of saying something but never quite doing it.

And for some reason, I wanted to know what she was thinking.

Not in a passing curiosity kind of way.

In a this is getting inconvenient kind of way.

I leaned back in my chair, watching her out of the corner of my eye as Tyler launched into another story, this one involving a stolen golf cart, a rogue squirrel, and a police chase that may or may not have actually happened.

She wasn't really listening.

But she was definitely watching me.

Not in the way Lauren was—not deliberate, not calculated.

Bella's gaze was thoughtful, her expression unreadable, like she hadn't even realized she was doing it.

I could have ignored it.

I probably should have ignored it.

But instead, I let my eyes meet hers, holding her gaze for just a second longer than necessary.

She looked away first.

But I didn't miss the way her fingers tightened around the cap of her water bottle, the way her breathing shifted—just slightly.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

The cafeteria continued to fill, the noise level steadily increasing as more students filtered in.

Still no Rosalie.

Still no Jacob.

Jasper and Alice, meanwhile, were still eating in absolute silence, barely acknowledging each other, yet somehow existing in perfect understanding.

It was strange, how easily they seemed to accept each other's silence.

I wasn't sure if I admired it or found it unsettling.

"Alice still hasn't said a word, huh?" Emmett muttered, noticing where I was looking.

"Not that I've heard," I said.

He shook his head, stabbing his fork into his eggs. "Weird, man. You think she ever will?"

I considered that.

Would she?

Something told me yes, eventually.

But not until she decided it was time.

"Maybe," I said. "But not yet."

Emmett nodded, accepting that answer easily, like he had no expectations either way.

Which was fair.

Because if Alice had expectations of us, she certainly wasn't showing it.

The conversation at our table shifted again, moving between pointless bullshit and mildly interesting stories, Tyler and Emmett doing most of the talking, Lauren occasionally steering the discussion toward things she thought would keep my attention.

But my attention?

That was still drifting.

To Bella, who was still watching me without meaning to.

To Alice, who still wasn't speaking but seemed to have found a quiet protector in Jasper.

To the rest of the people in this room, who I was slowly but surely figuring out.

And to the weeks, months, years ahead, that were starting to feel less like a prison sentence.

Jacob POV

I had spent the entire morning avoiding everyone.

I hadn't gone to breakfast. I hadn't spoken to anyone. I had kept my head down, moved through my classes like a ghost, and avoided every opportunity for conversation.

Because if I opened my mouth?

I wasn't sure what would come out.

It had been one of those nights.

The kind that left me feeling like I'd been dragged under and held there, the weight of my own mind pressing down until I woke up gasping, drenched in sweat, staring at the ceiling like I had just barely escaped something that wasn't even real.

Except it was real.

Not the way my brain twisted it, not the rearranged details and fabricated horrors that snuck in while I slept. But the foundation of it? The night of the accident, the sirens, the blood—

That was real.

And it was real every single goddamn time I dreamed about it.

I knew, logically, what had actually happened. I knew which parts were memories and which were fabrications.

But my brain didn't care about logic.

Because when I was dreaming?

It was all real.

Now I was sitting in Marcus's class, head down, trying to focus on anything except my own thoughts.

But my brain was fogged over, like a windshield on a cold morning that wouldn't quite clear, no matter how much I tried to wipe it clean.

I could hear Marcus droning on about whatever dry, lifeless excuse for literature analysis he had planned today.

Something about Shakespeare. Something about tragedy and fate and all the ways people destroyed themselves.

I would have found it darkly ironic if I had the energy to care.

Instead, I just sat there, staring blankly at my book, trying to make sense of the words on the page.

They blurred together.

I forced myself to read the same line again.

Nothing.

It was like trying to hold onto sand with wet hands—the more I tried to focus, the more it slipped through my fingers.

At some point, Marcus called on me to answer a question.

I blinked up at him, my mind coming up blank.

He didn't look surprised when I didn't answer immediately. He just sighed, like he had already expected me to be a disappointment.

"Do you need me to repeat the question, Mr. Black?"

I didn't even know what the question was.

I should have felt humiliated. Should have at least cared enough to pretend I had been listening.

But instead, I just stared at him, shoulders heavy, brain empty, not even the energy to come up with a decent excuse.

"Forget it," Marcus said, already moving on.

I let my gaze drop back to my book, heart still beating like it was trying to break free from my ribs.

I couldn't keep doing this.

Couldn't keep waking up to this version of reality, dragging myself through each day like it was a punishment I was too stubborn to quit.

But I had no choice.

So I sat there.

And waited for the hour to be over.

Jasper POV

The classroom was quiet, aside from the occasional sound of Sam writing on the board, his voice even and measured as he walked us through some dry retelling of the past.

I wasn't really listening.

And neither was Jacob.

He was sitting beside me, slumped forward, elbows on the desk, staring at his notebook like the words on the page were physically hurting him.

He looked terrible.

I leaned over slightly, lowering my voice.

"You look like shit."

Jacob huffed out a short laugh, not even bothering to look at me. "Thanks."

I shrugged. "Just stating facts."

He exhaled sharply through his nose, tapping his pencil against his notebook without writing anything.

I watched him for a second, noting the way his shoulders were tighter than usual, like he was carrying something heavy today.

"Did something happen?" I asked quietly.

Jacob was quiet for a second.

Then another.

Finally, he sighed, his tone flat. "No. Just, you know. Crying in my sleep again."

I recognized the phrase immediately.

Leah had teased him about it yesterday morning.

And if he was bringing it up again now, that meant it wasn't just some one-off bad dream.

I leaned back slightly, still keeping my voice low. "What was it about?"

Jacob didn't answer right away.

For a long minute, I thought he wasn't going to.

Then, finally, without looking up, he said, "A car accident."

I watched his expression carefully.

His fingers tightened slightly around his pencil.

Not a general accident, then. Not something abstract or distant.

Something personal.

I didn't hesitate.

"Who died?"

Jacob's jaw tensed.

Then, finally, he muttered, "My mom and my sister."

I let that sit for a second, processing. Then I asked, "Were you there?"

Jacob nodded, barely perceptible. "Yeah."

I considered him for a moment, piecing it together.

"You were the only survivor."

It wasn't a question.

Jacob didn't move. Didn't react.

Then, quietly, "Yeah."

I nodded, staring at the front of the classroom without really seeing it.

"That's pretty brutal."

Jacob let out a short, humorless breath.

"A bit."

Jacob didn't say anything else after that.

He just sat there, still tapping his pencil against his notebook, staring at the page like it was some unsolvable problem.

I wasn't really sure what to say either.

I wasn't great at comforting people. Never had been.

But I knew what helped me.

So, after a beat, I asked, "You smoke weed?"

Jacob blinked, finally turning his head to look at me, like the question had caught him off guard.

Then he shrugged, noncommittal. "Not all the time."

I nodded. "You should come hang out with me and Tyler after dinner in our bathroom."

Jacob raised a brow, a ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Something about that sounds so wrong. Three guys in the bathroom together."

I smirked back. "It's not. It's very right."

He huffed a small laugh, then nodded.

"Sure," he said. "Thanks."

Tyler POV

Finally.

A class in this godforsaken institution that was actually useful.

Not that I didn't love getting lectured about history I'd never use, or listening to Marcus mutter about poetry like he was waiting for death—but this?

This was something real. Something practical.

Cookies.

Esme had us making motherfuckin' cookies.

"This is the only class in this school that matters," I announced as I grabbed the mixing bowl from our station.

"Agreed," Jasper muttered, measuring out flour carefully.

Jacob, who looked marginally better than he had this morning, just grunted, dumping brown sugar into the bowl.

"I'm just saying," I continued, scooping a questionable amount of chocolate chips into my palm, "this is directly beneficial to my survival. You expect me to pass math? Science? How the hell is photosynthesis supposed to help me in life?"

Jasper tapped the measuring spoon against the side of the bowl, raising a brow. "You planning to bake cookies for a living?"

"Maybe." I tossed the chocolate chips into the bowl, ignoring Jacob's pointed look at the excess amount. "Or maybe I'm just gonna enjoy these later while the rest of you are out there doing pointless shit like algebra."

Jacob smirked slightly but didn't comment.

Across the kitchen, Esme moved between groups, checking in on our progress like some kind of domestic fairy godmother.

She was warm, encouraging, and not at all demanding, which was already a massive upgrade from literally every other teacher here.

"Very nice, Emmett," she said, passing by the station where Emmett and Edward were working. "You two are making excellent progress."

Emmett grinned. "Yeah, well, if I don't have to write essays or memorize shit, I'm a top-tier student."

Edward rolled his eyes, cracking an egg into his bowl with surgical precision. "Just try not to eat half the dough before we bake it."

Esme laughed. "Let him have a little fun, Edward."

Edward just sighed, but I caught the faintest twitch of a smirk.

At another station, Bella, Leah, and Alice worked in tense silence.

Leah was clearly unimpressed by being partnered with them, and Bella looked like she was just trying to get through the class without starting a fight.

Alice, as always, said nothing, but she measured out her ingredients with careful precision, moving like she'd done this a thousand times before.

"I feel like this is a hostage situation," Leah muttered, folding the dough aggressively.

Bella shrugged, pressing cookie mounds onto their baking sheet. "Just get through it."

Leah rolled her eyes, but didn't argue

At the next station, Rosalie and Lauren were working together, which was already a recipe for chaos.

"Rosalie," Lauren sighed dramatically, "you can't just throw everything in at once."

Rosalie shot her a sharp look, still mid-stir. "And why not?"

"Because there's a process. You have to mix wet ingredients first, then dry."

Rosalie raised a brow, unimpressed. "Do you think the cookies care?"

Lauren groaned, rubbing her temples.

Esme, completely unfazed, approached their station with a smile. "Everything going okay over here?"

"Just fine," Rosalie said pointedly, dumping sugar in way too fast.

Lauren muttered something under her breath but didn't push the argument further.

Back at our station, Jasper nudged me. "You planning on actually baking those, or just eating dough straight out of the bowl?"

I scooped out a chunk, popping it into my mouth.

"Little bit of both," I said through a mouthful of pure serotonin.

Esme passed by, smiling at us fondly. "That looks wonderful, boys. Just make sure you don't eat so much dough that you have nothing left to bake."

Jacob side-eyed me. "Hear that? Don't sabotage us."

I waved him off. "Relax. We've got plenty."

Jasper smirked. "For now."

I grinned, already looking forward to inhaling the final product later.

Because for once?

This place was actually worth something.

Emmett POV

Felix leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest like he had all the time in the world.

I was less convinced.

"So," he started, tapping his pen against his notepad, "do you know why you're here?"

I let out a short laugh, stretching my legs out in front of me. "Uh, yeah. Something about how I make terrible life choices and should probably stop drinking my way through them?"

Felix smirked. "That's one way to put it."

I shrugged. "Hey, at least I keep it interesting."

Felix studied me for a second, then nodded slightly. "Alright, fair enough. Let's get into it, then."

He flipped to a fresh page in his notebook, pen poised.

"What emotions do you feel most often?"

I scoffed. "Is 'hungry' an emotion?". I made a pointed look at my plate on the desk. "Cause I feel that a lot."

Felix didn't even blink. "Technically, no."

"Then I dunno," I said, tilting my head, "happy, I guess? Or… something close to it."

Felix raised a brow. "Something close to it?"

I shrugged. "I try not to overthink it."

He hummed, jotting something down. "Do you consider yourself more impulsive or controlled?"

I smirked. "Oh, definitely impulsive."

Felix smirked back. "Shocking."

I laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I act first, think later, repeat process as needed."

Felix didn't argue, just made another note.

"How do you usually react to people?"

I grinned. "With overwhelming charm and an undeniable magnetic personality."

Felix rolled his eyes but looked vaguely amused. "And how do you react to being told what to do?"

"With hostility," I admitted. "Unless I like the person."

Felix raised a brow. "And if you don't?"

I shrugged. "Then it's a game. How much can I get away with before I piss them off?"

Felix let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Good to know."

He tapped his pen against the desk once before asking the final question.

"What do you want?" His eyes suddenly locked on mine and I felt a strange tension in the pit of my stomach under the intensity of his gaze.

I blinked, my smirk fading slightly.

That was…

I didn't have an answer to that.

At least, not one that wasn't bullshit.

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. "Haven't figured that out yet."

Felix nodded, accepting that easily. "That's alright. You've got time."

"Alright," Felix finally said, leaning back in his chair. "That's enough for today. Same time next week."

I grinned, standing up quickly. "Can't wait."

Felix chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. Get out of here."

I grabbed my tray and headed for the door, already thinking about what I was going to do with the rest of my night.

Then I stepped into the hallway—

And nearly ran right into Rosalie Hale.

For a split second, my brain stopped functioning.

Because holy shit.

I'd noticed her on the bus that first day, but I hadn't really gotten the chance to talk to her since.

And it had been killing me.

She was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen—and I didn't say that lightly. There was something about her, something undeniable, something that demanded attention without even trying.

And the worst part?

She had no idea.

None.

She carried herself like someone who knew exactly who she was, but also didn't give a damn if anyone else recognized it.

Which, somehow, just made her even more interesting.

She stopped short when she saw me, her sharp blue eyes flicking up to mine, her expression carefully neutral.

"Well, hey there, blondie," I said, trying to play it cool.

She rolled her eyes, but it wasn't annoyed, not really. "Try watching where you're going next time, McCarty."

I smirked. "I could say the same to you. You on the mandatory therapy circuit, too?"

She lifted her tray slightly. "Obviously."

I nodded, shifting my tray to one hand, trying to act casual even though my heart was doing something weird in my chest from being alone with her in this long, empty hallway.

"So? How'd it go? You fixed yet?"

Her smirk deepened. "Oh, yeah. I'm completely rehabilitated. Ready to be released back into society as a functioning, law-abiding citizen."

I laughed, genuinely amused. "Damn. I was hoping for at least one more session before you achieved enlightenment."

She arched a brow, watching me carefully, like she was assessing whether or not I was worth her time.

My stomach tightened at that look, but I didn't let it show.

Instead, I matched her tone, tilting my head. "So, you fixed or what?"

She smirked again, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Oh, totally. I see the error of my ways. Never touching alcohol again. Gonna become a monk. Maybe start a cult."

I barked out a laugh, shaking my head. "Damn. No wonder they dumped us here. We're both too pretty for prison."

Her lips tugged upward, and for the first time since I'd met her, I thought I saw something genuine beneath the sarcasm.

I dropped my tray into the return bin by the cafeteria door, watching as she did the same, her movements effortless, poised.

"So," I said, shifting my weight slightly, "what do you think so far? Enjoying the Denali experience?"

She tilted her head slightly, considering.

"It's…" she hesitated. "More tolerable than I expected."

I raised a brow, my grin widening. "That almost sounded like a compliment."

She rolled her eyes again, nudging me lightly with her elbow. "Don't get used to it."

I grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it."

For a moment, we just stood there, the hallway now mostly empty, the cafeteria quieting down as the last of the stragglers finished eating.

And for the first time since I got here, I felt like I actually had something to look forward to.

Even if I had no idea what to do about it yet.

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