Summary: In which Cheryl Parks is assigned a World History tutor in the form of Jasper Hale. Humiliation never looked so pathetic.
A/N: Don't expect to find out why Jasper agrees to be her tutor in the first chapter. It comes out later, but trust me, there is a reason. You'll get it in due time. By the way, Cheryl isn't some new chick everyone will ogle. She's been in the school as long as the Cullens…and has avoided them like the rest of the teenaged Forkian population. Seeing as Bella comes in at March, the beginning will be pre-Bella because the story starts around the end of September, early October.
P.S. the title sucks and I will gladly change it later on. Suggestions are much appreciated in the future…though I might have a poll later on. Yes, the title is THAT bad. Anywho, READ ON, bitches, and don't forget to leave a shout out to yours truly.
A Lesson in the Backseat
Her attention span, for lack of a better word, sucked. This was not a matter of opinion, but rather a well-stated fact that Cheryl Parks and her teachers had become accustomed too. Maybe it was her past adolescent fascination with the herb, or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that her class—and the all too familiarly, small town she lived in—was painstakingly boring. But, for whatever reason, she could never get herself to concentrate on one singular activity that involved anything remotely uninteresting.
Advanced World History was no exception to this rule.
How she even managed to get recommended to advanced world history was beyond her. Her grades, she admitted, were somewhat admirable to the average Joe or Jane, but she was hardly anything remarkable. Then again, there weren't many remarkable people in Forks, Washington to begin with. She supposed her guidance counselor was the culprit behind her current predicament, sinking her claws on her course schedule. For some odd reason, Ms. Huntington, the counselor in question, developed a tremendous amount of faith in Cheryl, believing she could break the traditional mold and become an acclaimed writer. After all, the kid had the talent. All she needed were the credits, and apparently, university and colleges approved aspiring English majors who possessed a full history credit. But, why Advanced History, she wondered. If anything, the heightened intensity of the subject seemed to increase the insipid monotony tenfold.
Cheryl craned her neck upwards, propping her head onto her palm. Some girl, Taylor Mills, was doing a presentation on WW2 (how original) and was stuttering over almost every goddamn word: a classic case of plagiarism. She secretly wondered why the teacher wasn't stopping the presentation; this was obviously a waste of time. She couldn't complain though. Taylor was definitely taking up supposedly 'valuable' history time.
The bell signaled lunch, and Cheryl could not have been happier. Thank God. She was starving.
"Ms. Parks, Mr. Hale, I need to talk to you both before lunch," the teacher, Mr. Campaci, informed absentmindedly, staring at a sheet of paper. He exchanged an indistinguishable look with Jasper that did not go unnoticed by Cheryl, increasing whatever suspicions she generally possessed.
She sat at her desk, watching as everyone left the class before her. How depressing. Her fellow prisoner, Jasper Hale, remained seated a good distance away from her, but she assumed it was because he had serious issues being close to someone in a one meter radius. It was almost as if he thought she, and just about every person in Forks High school, possessed some type of contagious disease. For as long as she knew him—not that she was personally linked to him to begin with—Jasper Hale and his siblings never associated with anyone outside of their circle. She had no intention of ever becoming a rare exemption, until the teacher uttered a sentence that completely baffled her to the point of no return. It wasn't so much the sentence as it was one humiliating word that sent her mind into overdrive:
'Oh fuck,' she cursed, knowing the inevitable outcome of today's events.
"Hey, where were you?" Cora Marshall asked her friend Cheryl, leaning against her car. She was the epitome of the American girl with her long, blond locks and bright blue eyes. Light freckles dusted her pale, luminescent complexion. Then again, everyone in Forks was condemned to albinism, a result of cloudy, sunless skies.
Jason Wells, a tall brunette, chuckled, "Yeah, you missing lunch? Completely unheard of." He was relatively good-looking, and looked as if he belonged to the stereotypical brain-dead football team. But, his sweet-talking, troublemaking demeanor, and the fact that conversation was hardly stimulating with such a group, set him apart from the pack. His hair was a light shade of brown, his eyes a wicked shade of green that Cora and Cheryl secretly envied.
"Tutor," Cheryl replied simply, her tone informing her friends that she was not in the mood. There were few times Cheryl was ever mad, but a teacher believing she was so undoubtedly idiotic that she needed the aid of another student, who was probably as socially retarded as she was (if not more), made her blood boil for reasons unknown to her. It was only the beginning of the year. So what if she passed the first four tests with straight Cs (and the one D)? Every teacher knew that was how she started. Slow, sluggish, but in the end, she persevered and earned an admirable mark. She was the tortoise among hares. But, the way Mr. Campaci spoke to her…and how Jasper Hale looked at her…she had never felt more stupid than she did at that moment.
Cora literally choked on her own saliva as she entered her car. "You need a tutor?!" she asked in disbelief. "But, Jason's dumber than you and he doesn't even have a tutor!"
"Trust me: I'm just as surprised as you are. But, it seems Ms. Huntington decided to bitch at Mr. Campaci for my mark… and the only solution was to get a tutor. You should have seen the way they looked at me," Cheryl sighed, finger-combing her hair. "I felt like an idiot… He was speaking in such a slow voice; it was like he thought I was mentally incapacitated."
"Cheer up, kid," Jason replied sympathetically, patting her shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm sure you're just overreacting."
"Or PMSing," Jason offered, earning a smack on the arm. "OW! Okay, c'mon, it can't be that bad!" he massaged his shoulder, offering a chivalrous smile, which came off more as a smirk. "Who's your tutor anyways?"
"Jasper Hale," Cheryl stated, creating a moment of silence…
…that was soon interrupted with a burst of laughter.
"I'm glad you both are enjoying my humiliation," Cheryl sighed, leaning back on the leather seat of the car. "I even have to go to his house on Mondays, Saturdays, and Wednesdays. It's not enough that I don't even know the guy, but now I have to go into un-chartered territory, where he and his cult of adopted siblings can torment and torture my mind into oblivion."
"Well, if that isn't overreacting, than I don't know what is," Cora admonished, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, Parks, you act as if they're reincarnations of Charles Manson-"
"-or the Anti-Christ," Jason piped up, changing the dial on the radio.
"Oh, don't even try to rationalize the situation here," Cheryl retorted, folding her arms. "When I skinned part of my knee playing basketball, the Cullens looked like they wanted to finish the job."
Cora attempted to restrain her laughter, but a succession of chuckles emitted from her mouth, "Seriously, girl, where is this coming from? You're being such a drama queen. I thought that was supposed to be my job."
"Jason, tell her," Cheryl gripped his shoulder from her position in the backseat, gesturing to Cora.
"Tell me what?"
"Jason was in my gym class. He knows what happened!"
"Okay, midget, pipe down! We get the point," Jason exclaimed, ruffling her hair with his freakishly long arm.
"Just spit it out, Jason."
"Well, there is some truth to what she's saying…especially with Jasper. He looked pained-"
"Jasper always looks pained," Cora butted in.
"Yes, but this was different," Jason stressed, slightly annoyed by her interruption. "He looked just… I can't describe it. It was almost like he was fighting with himself. Emmett had to drag his ass out of there to get some fresh air."
"See? CRAZY!" Cheryl fired from her backseat.
"Or, CRAZY thought, he might be squeamish around blood. Not all of us are as tolerant of disgusting bodily fluids as you two are," Cora justified, parking the car on her driveway.
"That's true." Jason seemed to chew on the thought.
"I guess so…" Cheryl calmed down a few notches.
"I'm glad you both are starting to see it my way," Cora smiled, slipping out of the car. "Get to know Jasper first and then you can rant all you want. For now, shut up."
"Yes, ma'am," was the collective response.
Hoped you enjoyed it. It'll probably be a short story, and it might actually be the first fic I ever finish. FUDGE, I think I just jinxed that shit. Leave some love.