"And These Children that you spit on

As they try and change their worlds

Are immune to your consultations

They're quiet aware

Of what they are going through." — David Bowie


Saturday,

November 22, 2008

Forks High

Forks, Washington

7:53am

Won't you come see about me?

I'll be alone, dancing, you know it, baby

Tell me your troubles and doubts,

Giving me everything inside and out

Love's strange - so real in the dark

Think of the tender things that we were working on

Slow change may pull us apart

One a life gets into your heart, baby

Don't you forget about me

(Don't don't don't don't)

Don't you forget about me

"Bella!" The song belting inside my head was interrupted when my father ripped my headphone out of my ear. Of course, that was a huge mistake when it comes to a brooding teenager. Do not touch the music.

"What?" I hissed back, yanking the small bud of my earphone from his finger.

He was furious, I could tell, but he tried to contain it. He took a deep breath. It would not do for Chief Charlie Swan to lose his composure outside his daughter's high school. This small town was already privy to anything he did, like he was some great celebrity. I knew he didn't want our personal matters to become Forks' too.

"Listen, sweetheart, this is the last time—Bella, I'm talking to you," he failed to not yell when I turned from him with a scoff, looking out the frosted, wet window of his police cruiser. "This is the last time," he repeated in his serious voice, "you pull something like this, do you understand me? I managed to save you from a month in prison, but your record is now smudged with your idiocy. You owe this to that friend of yours."

I turned back to him, frowning. "I told you Jake had nothing to do with it. I was alone."

"I don't believe that."

"Share that with your best friend, then. I'm sure Billy Black would love to hear how you distrust his son."

"Jacob has gotten into his fair share of trouble—in Forks and La Push. Billy knows that. And it's not his fault that boy is turning out the way he is," Charlie rebuffed. Sure. That was the ultimate belief parents had, right? They wanted to believe they weren't the reason their kids act out the way they do. Like I'm not starting to become a major screw up because of my family history and my home life. Who was Charlie trying to fool? Better yet, who is he trying to convince that he hasn't messed up as a father? Because I'm not being won over by his failed effort.

"No more screwing around, Isabella," Charlie pressed. "Don't blow your ride. No school is going to give a scholarship to a discipline case." I rolled my eyes. Here we go again, the scholarship talk. Like I don't know that I am in dire need of one. He might be Chief of police, but Forks is a dingy town in Washington. His income is pathetic. He couldn't get me into college if he saved all his life.

Grabbing my skateboard from the backseat, I exited the police cruiser without another word directed at my father.

Don't you try and pretend

It's my feeling we'll win in the end

I won't harm you or touch your defenses: vanity; insecurity

Don't you forget about me

I'll be alone, dancing, you know it, baby

Going to take you apart

I'll put us back together at heart, baby

Don't you forget about me

(Don't don't don't don't)

Don't you forget about me

Once I made it inside Forks High's library, I grudgingly turned off my blasting ipod. There was an audience waiting for me already.

"Nice of you to join us, Swan," said Mister Volturi, his off-putting gaze narrowing at me. He pointed a long, pale finger to the back section of the room. "Take a seat."

Five other students gawked at me, like I was an odd thing, as I made my way to the table. I looked down at my old shoes to avoid their eyes.

"Well, well, here we are," said Aro Volturi, the principal of Forks High. "I want to congratulate you for being on time—for the first time in your entire four years here."

A pale hand shot in the air. "Excuse me, sir. I think there's been a mistake. I know it's detention, but I don't think I belong in here." There was a painfully breathtaking blonde sat on the first table of the library. The room froze with tension as all eyes turned to her.

Aro ignored her. "It is now 8:06," he continued. "You have exactly four hours to think about why you ponder the rhythm of your ways." He made his way to the back. I thought Aro was going to reprimand me—to make fun of my being there, for being caught doing something so stupid, but instead he stopped in front of a well-built student on the right of me. "You may not talk. You may not move. And you will not be sleeping." SLAM. Aro's fist collided with another student's table, another blond.

The blond straightened himself up on his seat, clearing his throat as he looked down at his tabletop. Aro frowned at him with disapproving, but then his eyes stopped once again at the back section. To me and the burly guy on my right.

"Any screwing around is ill-advised. Is that clear, McCarty. That goes for you too, Swan."

"Got it," said the other threatened student, though he did not lower his eyes from the principal's face like I did as I nodded to indicate that I understood.

Aro Volturi spared us another long, menacing look before walking out of the library.

"That man is full of shit," declared McCarty, turning to me. Despite his vast mass, all those muscles, the guy had dimpled cheeks and a goofy grin that lessened his ferociousness. His hazel eyes glittered with mischief, but their round, wide shape combined with his short, curly hair only proved to make him look like an adorable man-child. "You know," he began with a smirk, "whenever I'm in the same room with a Swan it's because I've done something bad and they're admonishing me for it."

"Really? The same happens to me," I said.

He laughed. "I'm Emmett McCarty," he introduced with an outstretched hand, waiting for me to take it. I didn't think twice about it. "Nice to meet you, Isabella."

"Call me Bella," I corrected. The blond in front of Emmett was staring so I turned to him. "You're Jasper, right?"

The blond furrowed his brows. He seemed surprised. Like he was not used to someone paying attention to him. Noticing him.

"Yeah. Jasper Hale," he said, clearing his throat.

"Hi! I'm Alice," said a tiny, dark-haired girl I failed to notice on my way in. She sat in the middle section, a table away from Jasper. "Since we're introducing ourselves, I thought I might, too. It's good to know who you're serving time with."

Emmett snorted. "Are we gonna start making friendship bracelets?"

Oh, Sky above, I hope that wasn't the case. I just needed to survive the next four hours with these people and then I'd never have to speak or look at anyone of them ever again.