part two
Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. The engine started quickly, to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. I know nothing about cars, but is that really much of a flaw? The antique radio worked, a plus that I hadn't expected. Oh wow, something for her not to complain about.
Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-colored bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at colored first. Where was the feel of the institution? I wondered nostalgically. Where were the chain-link fences, the metal detectors?
Okay, so she’s now grumbling about fact that the school is safe and that it doesn’t look like an institution? There really is no pleasing this girl.
I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading front office. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot. I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door.
Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I'd hoped. Wait, she’s bitching about it being too warm now? What the hell is up? The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. ::sigh:: The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing a purple t-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed. What are you wearing a ball gown?
The red-haired woman looked up. "Can I help you?"
"I'm Isabella Swan," I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. “Awareness,” no it should be “recognition.” Stop throwing bigger and uncommon words around to make yourself sound smarter Meyer. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last. The reason she was expected was because she was the only new kid. And it’s painfully obvious that Meyer knows nothing about small towns. There is no way for all the people to know about Bella’s coming and her mom. Did Charlie tell everyone in town about his inner turmoil; was there a town meeting about it?
"Of course," she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the counter to show me.
She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and hoped, like Charlie, that I would like it here in Forks. I smiled back as convincingly as I could.
When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. At home I'd lived in one of the few lower-income neighborhoods that were included in the Paradise Valley District.
It was a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. Wait a second, are you saying that the lower-income neighborhood kids could still afford a Mercedes or Porsche. Also, how nice of Bella to point out how poor the people of Forks are. The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention to me. I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now; hopefully I wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. Because, like, that would be like totally embarrassing, never mind it’s my first day or something. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and sucked in a huge breath. I can do this, I lied to myself feebly. No one was going to bite me. Foreshadowing! I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck.
I kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. My plain black jacket didn't stand out, I noticed with relief. Black wouldn’t stand out on a cloudy, rainy day. However, she could mean in comparison to the other students and of course she wouldn’t stand out, a lot of high-schoolers wear black.
Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A large black "3" was painted on a white square on the east corner. I felt my breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as I approached the door. She’s hyperventilating? Isn’t that a bit over dramatic? She’s going into a school, not about to be executed…unfortunately. I tried holding my breath as I followed two unisex raincoats through the door. Huh, I didn’t know raincoats had a assigned sex in the first place.
The classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-colored blonde, the other also pale, with light brown hair. At least my skin wouldn't be a standout here. Oh course it wouldn’t, you’re in the Pacific Northwest. Are you stupid or something?
I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name - not an encouraging response -Gawk? Not even when Harry Potter first went to school did the teachers gawk at him, and he was the miracle child that made Voldermort disappear. Plus, as a teacher, shouldn’t Mr. Mason know that it’s bad to make your new students feel uncomfortable by staring at them? and of course I flushed tomato red. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. Why are they staring, is she covered in blood? I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. I'd already read everything.
I know some people have a problem with her reading all these books, but it indicates in the next paragraph that she read them for school because she wrote essays for them. I read Chaucer and Shakespeare in high school, ::shrug:: it was a British Lit class, but we read 1984 and Beowulf instead of Faulkner and Bronte. Really this looks like a typical high school English class.
That was comforting… and boring. I wondered if my mom would send me my folder of old essays, or if she would think that was cheating. It's been a while since I’ve been in high school, but I’m pretty sure that English teachers would take your old essay, only advising you how to make it better. I went through different arguments with her in my head while the teacher droned on. Being disrespectful to authority figures again, I see. It’s not like Bella has to listen to the teacher, since her big city school education is as good as a Masters in English. You know, there are advantages to coming from a small school, lower class sizes for one. When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me.
Hey look, Bella needn’t have worried about people being nice to her, but I bet that she’ll find a way to be pissy about this as well.
"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type. Told you, but wow she’s hung up on appearances. It’s never said that Eric is actually in a chess club. Why doesn’t she just call him a nerd to simplify things?
"Bella," I corrected. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at me. My Mary-sue alert is going off, because we all know how realistic it is for the new kid to draw in stares by just saying your name.
"Where's your next class?" he asked.
I had to check in my bag. "Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building six."
There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes.
"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way…" Definitely over-helpful. Why is she irritable about someone who’s willing to help her, especially when she just had her little wangst paragraph about how she doesn’t fit in? "I'm Eric," he added.
I smiled tentatively. "Thanks."
We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't getting paranoid. No you’re not paranoid. These kids are such simpletons that a girl from Phoenix is just about the most interesting thing in the world.
"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?" he asked.
"Very."
"It doesn't rain much there, does it?"
"Three or four times a year."
"Wow, what must that be like?" he wondered. “Wondered,” really? Does he live under a freak’n rock or something? These aren’t mole people Meyer.
"Sunny," I told him.
"You don't look very tan."
"My mother is part albino."
He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didn't mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm.
Isn’t it amazing how well Bella puts up with everyone falling instantly in love with her? But seriously, does one really need anymore evidence to have a problem with Bella? She’s a jerk! And she wonders why she doesn’t fit in with people. This guy is just trying to talk to her; he’s probably a bit nervous, boys of any age often find it hard to strike up a conversation with a girl, but instead of having any sympathy for this guy, she acts snarky. And her joke about her mom being part albino, how lame was that? I would understand if Eric was being irritating, talking too much about himself, or tried a line on her, but all he’s done is talk to her. And this makes him annoying? And Meyer doesn’t give his tone of voice any adjectives, so maybe if she said he sounded overly excited or something, but no. All I can infer from this is that just because she thinks Eric is a nerd, Bella wants to get away from him.
We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.
"Well, good luck," he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful.
I smiled at him vaguely and went inside.
The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. This is what she should have said: “I’m Bella Swan from Phoenix; first off I’m not interested in normal people. If any of you are a vampire, werewolf, or other sexy monster, please come see me. That is all.” I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat.
After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I tried to be diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot. She says later that she doesn’t lie, does Bella have no self-awareness at all? At least I never needed the map.
One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my five feet four inches, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between our heights. I couldn't remember her name, so I smiled and nodded as she prattled about teachers and classes. I didn't try to keep up.
We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced to me. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me. The boy from English, Eric, waved at me from across the room.
Definitely a jerk, here she is, having all these people come up to her acting friendly, and she doesn’t even do any of them the courtesy of listening to what they say to her; or at the very least try and remember their names! Now I’m pretty bad with remembering names, but I always look at the person’s face and repeat their name to myself to try and remember.
It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.
They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. They weren't gawking at me, unlike most of the other students, so it was
safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these things that caught, and held, my attention. She’s uncomfortable with people with people looking at her, and yet she feels no guilt about staring at other people.
They didn't look anything alike. How often do friends look like one another? Of the three boys, one was big - muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze- colored hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students.
The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixielike, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction.
And yet, they were all exactly alike. And she just said they didn’t look alike? I know she’s trying to say, they’re alike but different, but this is just worded badly. Every one of them was chalky pale, the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. Paler than me, the albino. Is Bella really an albino? Or is supposed to be a joke?
They all had very dark eyes despite the range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes - purplish, bruiselike shadows. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, angular.
But all this is not why I couldn't look away.
I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful - maybe the perfect blond girl, or the bronze-haired boy.
You’d think that this description here would have saved Meyer from having to repeat, again, and again, just how beautiful the vamps, and especially Edward, are in the story later. I think I’ve been told enough how pretty they are for the whole book, this would only require gentle reminders later.
They were all looking away - away from each other, away from the other students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, the small girl rose with her tray - unopened soda, unbitten apple - and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed at her lithe dancer's step, till she dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who sat unchanging. Why would they waste money on food if they weren’t going to go through with the charade of trying to be regular teenagers? Also why are they putting on a show of acting so unlike regular kids by staring at the walls? Does Meyer know nothing about real teenagers?
"Who are they?" I asked the girl from my Spanish class, whose name I'd forgotten. As she looked up to see who I meant - though already knowing, probably, from my tone - suddenly he looked at her, the thinner one, the boyish one, the youngest, perhaps. “Though already knowing, probably, from my tone?” Who taught Meyer to write? He looked at my neighbor for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered to mine.
He looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance, his face held nothing of interest - it was as if she had called his name, and he'd looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer. “It was as if she had called his name,” Bella must be seeing into the future when she learns Edward can read minds.
My neighbor giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did.
"That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said this under her breath.
I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening. The other three still looked away, and yet I felt he was speaking quietly to them. Bella is a single view point character; she can’t make assumptions based on information she doesn’t have. Bella doesn’t know at this point that they’re sparklepires. It would be more reasonable for Bella to guess he was muttering to himself. You can’t have her have an intuition attack and turn her into an omniscient narrator, Meyer.
Strange, unpopular names, I thought. The kinds of names grandparents had. I thought this when I first read the book, and I was happy to see I wasn’t the only one. How are their names strange or unpopular? Yes, I’d say old fashioned, but not strange or unpopular. But maybe that was in vogue here - small town names? I finally remembered that my neighbor was called Jessica, a perfectly common name. There were two girls named Jessica in my History class back home. I love how she only remembers Jessica's name to compare it to the "strange" names of the vampires, it's like she's trying to point out even more that "all these NORMAL teenagers aren't worth a minute of my time." And vampires can be named Jessica, too you know.
"They are… very nice-looking." I struggled with the conspicuous understatement.
"Yes!" Jessica agreed with another giggle. "They're all together though - Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together." Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small town, I thought critically. You know, Bella’s down talk of small towns is getting less-anger inducing only because she does it so much. But does she think small towns are stuck in the 50s or something? But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix, it would cause gossip.
"Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked. "They don't look related…"
"Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. Why did she randomly tell Bella how young Dr. Cullen is? They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins - the blondes - and they're foster children."
"They look a little old for foster children."
"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that." Let’s a little math. If Dr. Cullen is 30, and the kids have been with them since they were 8, that would mean he adopted them when he was 20. I bet Meyer didn’t even check that you have to be 21 to adopt children. Research Fail. Yes, there are different laws for obtaining guardianship of younger brothers and sisters if their parents die or are unable to take care of their children anymore, true but that’s not the lie they’re selling the people of Forks.
"That's really kind of nice - for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything."
"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that she didn't like the doctor and his wife for some reason. Spoiler: we never learn why. With the glances she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though," she added, as if that lessened their kindness. What? How does that make any sense? Why would Jessica think that being barren makes a woman less kind when she adopts children? ::sigh:: Is this how Meyer tries to make Bella look good, by making other people her age look worse?
Throughout all this conversation, my eyes flickered again and again to the table where the strange family sat. They continued to look at the walls and not eat.
"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked. Surely I would have noticed them on one of my summers here.
"No," she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."
I felt a surge of pity, and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted. ::cough::Roswell::cough:: Sorry, I had something in my throat. And is it a big shocker that they’re outsiders since they’re acting haughty and bored. You know Meyer, looks do not guarantee friends, you have to actually talk to some people for that to happen. Relief that I wasn't the only newcomer here, and certainly not the most interesting by any standard. I suppose “interesting” actually means “hot” here.
As I examined them, the youngest one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation. Edward I’m with you, Bella hasn’t met a single one of my expectations in a heroine. But really now, Meyer is cheating again by making Bella know that Edward is the youngest and exactly what Edward’s “unmet expectation” face looks like even though she’s only know of his existence for five minutes. She’s not omniscient, damnit.
"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?" I asked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other students had today - he had a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again.
"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when he'd turned her down.
I bit my lip to hide my smile. Jerk. Then I glanced at him again. His face was turned away, but I thought his cheek appeared lifted, as if he were smiling, too. So she is omniscient then? But hey, isn’t it lovely when a couple can both find amusement in another person’s pain and frustration? After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful - even the big, brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn't look at me again.
I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would have if I'd been sitting alone. If were alone, that would mean you sat with Jessica and her for a zero amount of time. Therefor any amount of time she sits with the other students, would be more than what she would spend alone. I was anxious not to be late for class on my first day. One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded me that her name was Angela, had Biology II with me the next hour. So you can’t be nice ask people their names so you remember them? We walked to class together in silence. She was shy, too. Bella clearly doesn’t understand the difference between being shy and being a bitch.
When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbor. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the center aisle, I recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single open seat. Oh, that’s convenient.
As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. Just as I passed, he suddenly went rigid in his seat. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face - it was hostile, furious. I looked away quickly, shocked, going red again. I stumbled over a book in the walkway and had to catch myself on the edge of a table. The girl sitting there giggled. This is only the second sign of the kids being less than friendly.
I'd noticed that his eyes were black - coal black. Mary-Sue alert, unusual eye color and how far away is she from him at this point, seven feet maybe. She should not be able to know what color his eyes are.
Mr. Banner signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about introductions. I could tell we were going to get along. Of course, he had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by him, bewildered by the antagonistic stare he'd given me.
I didn't look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face like he smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my hair. It smelled like strawberries, the scent of my favorite shampoo. It seemed an innocent enough odor. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, making a dark curtain between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher.
Unfortunately the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I'd already studied. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down.
Alright, I didn’t say anything about the Bella being good at English because all of those books are perfectly common for a high school class, but now I’m saying something. It’s a tab unbelievable for Bella to be an all around genius without this being expanded on earlier. And cellular anatomy, unless she’s teaching the class she would be able to get something out of the lecture because it’s a complicated enough subject for most high school teachers to not be able to teach that all that could be taught about it, when they have so much more martial to cover. Plus I think that Meyer is starting to make the teachers of this small town school look inapt in comparison to the ones of the big city, which I find a bit offensive since I have a small town sensibility.
I couldn't stop myself from peeking occasionally through the screen of my hair at the strange boy next to me. During the whole class, he never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. This, too, he never relaxed. Is “this” refereeing to his hand? Whatever, she should have reworded that. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin. How would she know it was hard unless she touched him? He wasn't nearly as slight as he'd looked next to his burly brother.
The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for his tight fist to loosen? It never did; he continued to sit so still it looked like he wasn't breathing. What was wrong with him? Was this his normal behavior? I questioned my judgment on Jessica's bitterness at lunch today. Maybe she was not as resentful as I'd thought.
It couldn't have anything to do with me. He didn't know me from Eve. Bella has complained about being the center of attention the minute she got to school, so why wouldn’t she assume that Edward is in fact reacting to her?
I peeked up at him one more time, and regretted it. He was glaring down at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. Why would he have a look of revulsion if he wants to eat her? One could say she misread his face, but how is that possible when she knew that she didn’t fulfill an expectation of Edward’s by looking at him from across a cafeteria? As I flinched away from him, shrinking against my chair, the phrase if looks could kill suddenly ran through my mind.
At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose - he was much taller than I'd thought - Why does she interrupt her own flow of thoughts so much, does she have ADD? his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.
I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It wasn't fair. You’d think that it wouldn’t be news to a teenager girl that teenagers can be asses for no real reason, but I guess not. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. Why would you cry over the fact that there’s one guy in the entire school who doesn’t think the light shines out of your ass? For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency. I cry when I’m angry too, but I don’t think it’s that humiliating.
"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" a male voice asked. This is the same exact question Eric asked. The boys are attracted to Mary-Bella like moths to a flame.
I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully gelled into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. He obviously didn't think I smelled bad.
"Bella," I corrected him, with a smile. Okay, right here, clear proof that Bella is completely hung up on appearances. Eric asked the same question, and she corrected him, like she does Mike here, but she does so “with a smile.” The only difference between the boys is that Mike is described as “cute,” and Eric is supposedly ugly. What we’re getting from Bella here is that she thinks only pretty people can be kind when they talk to you, while ugly people are just annoying.
"I'm Mike."
"Hi, Mike."
"Do you need any help finding your next class?"
"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."
"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small. I don’t think he’s thrilled at the supposed coincidental nature of the situation.
We walked to class together; he was a chatterer - he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California till he was ten, so he knew how I felt about the sun. It turned out he was in my English class also. He was the nicest person I'd met today.
I know it is pretty bad that Bella is treating the boys who spoke to her with such obvious differences, but I will give Meyer that Mike lived in California, and therefore has a common ground with him, and she didn’t have that with Eric. But still, both boys asked her name, introduced themselves, and asked her what her next class was, almost using the exact same words, all that’s different, is how they look. And I suppose she could have had some common ground with Eric if she talked to him more. So I’m going to call this a draw, because Bella and Mike have something in common, but she didn’t spend enough time with Eric to see if he had anything in common with her.
But as we were entering the gym, he asked, "So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that." That’s actually a pretty funny line, I think.
I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. I think anyone would be stupid not to notice that Edward was putting on a show of making it look like he thinks Bella smelled like garbage. And, apparently, that wasn't Edward Cullen's usual behavior. I decided to play dumb. Here’s a hint already that Bella has some practice at acting like “the dumb” girl to get the information she wants from men.
"Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?" I asked artlessly.
"Yes," he said. "He looked like he was in pain or something."
"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to him."
"He's a weird guy." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."
I smiled at him before walking through the girls' locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring. But it wasn't enough to ease my irritation. Is there any pleasing this girl? Though she let down her emo “I’m only happy when I’m miserable” deal enough to actually complement someone on being nice. Though this is at least the third person to be nice to her, wonder what Mike did to receive such an honor. ::rolls eyes::
The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress down for today's class. At home, only two years of PE. were required. Here, P.E. was mandatory all four years. Forks was literally my personal hell on Earth. Whine, whine, whine! Honey, I gotta tell you, if having to stand in a gym and look busy for 50 minutes is the worst part day then you’re lucky.
I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering how many injuries I had sustained - and inflicted - playing volleyball, I felt faintly nauseated. Here’s Bella’s faux flaw showing itself again. Expect that it never, ever causes Bella any real damage.
The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and colder. I wrapped my arms around myself.
When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out.
Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized again that tousled bronze hair. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free.
He was arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. How can a voice be simply “attractive?” Is it breathy, husky, low, intense? Does it sound pleasing like music or bird song? But I know I shouldn’t really be asking for more adjectives since Meyer loves to over-load Edward with them. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time - any other time.
I just couldn't believe that this was about me. Oh course it’s about you, you’ve been made into a Mary-Sue, you get everything you want with no effort! It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the Biology room. The look on his face must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to me. Well, I’ve taken as sudden, intense dislike to you, but then again I can actually read your lack luster mind. Edward gets to be blissfully ignorant.
The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling the papers on the desk, swirling my hair around my face. The girl who came in merely stepped to the desk, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out again. The first time Meyer populates her story with a no-name, useless character, and how is Edward’s back stiffening have anything to do with this no-name character? But Edward Cullen's back stiffened, and he turned slowly to glare at me - his face was absurdly handsome - with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. The first time Bella is honestly scared of Edward, chilled to her core. Not fired up by their banter, like most couples feel when they start out “hating” each other, and moving to love later. He turned back to the receptionist.
"Never mind, then," he said hastily in a voice like velvet. What the hell does velvet sound like? "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And he turned on his heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door.
I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip.
"How did your first day go, dear?" the receptionist asked maternally.
"Fine," I lied, my voice weak. She didn't look convinced.
When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. It seemed like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this damp green hole. And not the home that she has with her perfectly kind and loving father, if I didn’t know any better I’d swear Meyer wanted us to hate Bella. I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly. But soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life. I headed back to Charlie's house, fighting tears the whole way there. I hope she’s crying for more reason than the hot stranger seems to hate her. But probably not, because what else does she have to complain about, all the people who talked to and were polite to her? Oh my god, her life is so hard!
Gripe, gripe, gripe! I think what Meyer wants us get from this chapter is to feel sympathy for Bella. But that’s pretty damn hard to do when Bella is either saying the events that could make things better aren’t enough or turning her nose up at them. Plus she said she hates it in Forks and/or that she’s never been happy there at least twenty times, making her sound like she just enjoys complaining verses trying to make the best of it. And we don’t even know why she’s there at this point in the story! She has a lot going for her in this chapter here, the only real draw back being Edward’s treatment of her. I also think Meyer wants us to see how self-sacrificing Bella is. Again, that would be more convincing if she would have to put on more of a show a little more. And much of my sympathy for her is killed because of her cold treatment of Jessica, her friends, and especially Eric. It’s as if she thinks “all these normal teenagers are beneath my inherit specialness which is never explained.” Plus how she treats her father is pretty terrible in my opinion, he’s making genuine effort to have a relationship with his daughter and she ignores it all completely. What a bitch.