AN: This is just a small chapter as sample to see if any of you like it. I was bored and had writer's block for my other story, Demon City. Which will have a new chapter up in a few hours or so after I post this.
R&R My lovely people :)
It was boring, it was monotonous...it was high school.
It was my first day back after Summer vacation. I had spent the most part in Phoenix with Renee.
I moved up to Forks, Washington only a few weeks ago, readying my metaphorical casket, so to speak.
Which basically meant, Forks was going to kill me. I sighed drearily as I made my way into the parking lot of Forks High.
My rusted, red Chevy truck hauled itself over the speed bump, making a powerful metal grunting noise, causing everyone to stare. "Awh, crap." I muttered to myself, ducking my head so my long, brown hair would cover up my face.
No doubt they already knew who I was anyway.
Thanks to the fact that this bum fucked town was incredibly small and the student body made up half the population, I was a clear stand out—I was unfamiliar territory. This rule also went for the male half of the school.
Surprisingly, they outnumbered the girls here.
So, anything new, namely me, caught their attention immediately.
I stepped out into the chilly drizzle, my boots connecting with the slick black top of the parking lot.
Their eyes, ever roaming my face, bored holes into my skin.
I would have loved to turn around and tell them to fuck off...but, I wasn't the badass I considered myself to be.
I was a regular chicken-shit. I sighed dejectedly, scowling at my tyre, than gathered myself, trudging off towards the closest building in sight.
Hopefully, this was the office. I pulled my hood over my head, trying to avoid the rain from wetting my hair. I scanned over the red-bricked building...nope, not the office.
I could have thrown a tantrum right then and there. That would have gone down well for my rep.
I snorted silently, what rep? I didn't have a rep, hardly anyone even knew I existed back in Phoenix.
I slowly scoped out the buildings ahead, craning my neck over the bustling flow of students crowding the way. I hit the jackpot, finally! I grumbled to myself along the way. Why didn't they label the fricking buildings or classrooms properly?!
Then I considered that they wouldn't get a regular influx of new additions to their classes either.
I smiled half-heartedly at he red-headed woman behind the desk. Her name badge labelled her: Ms. Cope. Huh. Ironic.
She'd have to be able to cope pretty well if she worked in such purgatory.
She looked up, surprised and smiled back. "Hello? You must be our new student, Isabella?" she enquired.
I nodded. "It's Bella." I mumbled, she looked down, grasping a stack of papers. I bit my lip. I hoped they weren't all for me.
"Here you go, Isabella." She said, not having listened to me before. I forced another smile.
"Thank you." I said, taking a couple of sheets from her. She pointed me in the direction of my first class. I had Trig, with Mr. Varner. Oh the joy. Such a subject should be banned, if not illegal. The tedious work supplied that we, as future adults, would seldom use in our everyday life unless we became architects was inconsequentially dull.
I blushed bright red as he introduced me in front of the entire class.
I doubted I would like this teacher very much. It was exactly how I had imagined it would be like. I stared blindly at the front of the room, scribbling answers on my page, not bothering with accuracy. If he was a real asshole, he would call on me on my first day.
At least, in that aspect, he didn't betray himself. He kept the questions to the rest of the class, leaving me to stew in my loathe. I dragged my feet slowly out through the door, tripping on the door jam on the way out. I grumbled and bent to retrieve my books and pens.
A blonde boy approached me then, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows.
I frowned, averting my gaze. I would not become his idle play thing. Mother-fucking jock. One of his mother-fucking jock friends nudged his arm and nodded in my direction.
"Fuckers," I muttered, unable to mute my voice low enough.
"Damn right about that, sweet heart." One sneered.
I rolled my eyes, straightening up and stalking off in the other direction amidst the ludicrous cat calls and whistles thrown at my back.
I hated high school. Especially the people like him who undoubtedly wouldn't make a GPA above the national retardation standards.
If there was one. I chuckled to myself and sighed. Was I really that pathetic? The answer was yes, yes I was. I had Biology next, a nice, wholesome looking girl named Angela sat next to me, clearly knowing how vulnerable I felt. I took a liking to her instantly. At least there were some decent people in this town.
I relaxed a minuscule, sitting and making small talk with Angela Webber, a class valedictorian, but not the bitchy kind.
I smiled for real this time, shocking myself. Lunch swept by in a rush of apples, soda, gawking and Mike-mother-fucking-Newton.
He leered at me from across the room, trying to catch my eyes with his. It didn't work and he seemed disappointed that my brains weren't in my boobs.
I snickered quietly along with Angela at his obvious lacking of intelligence...or anything for that matter over lunch while a girl whose name was...what?
Jesscia? Eyed me evilly from her chair across the table.
I assumed that she was one of his past conquests that he'd gotten sick of. Now that he was eye-balling me, unabashedly from where he sat, I was in girl speak, "stealing her boyfriend". I wanted to tell her she could have him, but like I said, I was a class A. Chicken shit.
Angela steered me to my English room and I entered, feeling a little brighter about the day after making a friend.
I glared balefully at the cursive written on the black board. The words read: Romeo and Juliet. I sighed, this was going to be all a big joke.
The girls were going to manically butcher this poor story. I cringed at the thought of a re-tell, typically a low grade assignment which I had assumed would be the curriculum here. That was foremost at the front of my mind. That was until he showed up. My blood boiled, my breathing hitched and I could no longer give a flying fuck about Romeo or his Juliet.
As Mr. Cullen, our English teacher strode inside, his tall, lean and muscular body, his bronze tousled hair and green eyes, I knew only one thing.
I had to have him.