AN: Incredibly OOC, so don't complain about it because I am warning you now.
I am not Stephenie Meyer, nor will I ever be.
I woke up for the first day back from Christmas break tired and hung over. I was starting my last semester at Forks today with a feeling of excitement and boredom. I was excited that in roughly five months I would be out of that place for good, but it was still school. And school is lame no matter how close you are to graduating.
I pulled on my grey skinny jeans that were laying on the floor, and pulled a New Found Glory tshirt out of my dresser. My hair was unruly, but there wasn't enough time to shower, so I picked up my beanie and put it on my head.
Emmett met me at my locker. We exchanged a fist bump, and I opened up my locker just to put my empty backpack in it. We leaned against as we waited for Jasper and Alice to show up, and people watched. First day back was usually as good as it gets. Teachers never do anything but pass out books, and you can see what changes people made over break. It was like a fresh start.
Jasper and Alice finally showed up, and the remaining five minutes were spent talking about what we all did the past ten hours when we hadn't seen each other. Our answers were pretty much the same, ate, and slept. That's pretty much the only thing we do.
"Come on man; let's go so we can get the back seats in Armstrong's class." Emmett said when the warning bell sounded.
I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, let's get as far away from that lisp as possible."
Emmett and I booked it down the hallway, and got our seats in the back just like we wanted. We rated everyone that walked in, and made sure that nobody sat next to us, in case someone better came in. Shelby Foster came in, she rolled her eyes when she saw me. I blew her a kiss and she scoffed, taking a seat in the front.
"Still bitter that you wouldn't date her?" Emmett asked.
The bell rang and Mr. Armstrong took roll. Blaine Andrew walked in late, Mr. Armstrong tried his best to scold him, but Blaine just walked on by and took a seat next to Emmett. Everyone knew Mr. Armstrong was a joke; he would never send anyone down to the office, and he hardly ever enforced classroom rules.
"Alright guys, I know usually we don't do anything on the first day back, but this year is going to be a little different."
The class groaned and he rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, this is easy. We're going to be doing an ongoing project all semester. You guys are going to be getting a pen pal from another senior comp class of mine. So right now, just take out a piece of paper and write about yourself. Don't use your real name though, we want to keep this anonymous." He said.
Emmett and I rolled our eyes at the same time, and flipped our notebooks open.
First off I guess I should let you know that this I find this whole thing stupid. Pen pals are so fifth grade, for real. But now that that's cleared up, my name's Anthony. As you know, I'm a senior. I'm six foot tall and athletically built. I'm loud, obnoxious, and love to have a good time. I think school's a joke and a complete waste of my time. Anyway, I hope you're not some nerd that I've just offend by calling a nerd and insulting school, but I honestly just don't care.
PS, I really hope I didn't offend you.
I laughed as I reread my letter, then folded it in half and stuffed it in the envelope Armstrong had passed out. The bell rang and Emmett and I got up, dropping our letters in the big at the front of the room on our way back.
"What did you use for a pin name?" Emmett asked.
"Middle name, name why didn't I think of that?" Emmett asked as he smacked his forehead.
"Can you're an idiot, anyway what did you use?"
"You really are an idiot."
The first day back was always hectic. By the time I made it to sixth period English I was ready to scream. Not only did I have some of the worst teachers for some of the hardest classes, but my feet were aching from my new black strappy Prada heels. I collapsed into my desk next to Rosalie and slid my feet out of my shoes.
"I told you that you would have broken them in first." She said with a smirk.
I stuck my tongue out at her. "I just got them last night, I didn't have time and I really wanted to wear them today."
She rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous."
The bell rang and Mr. Armstrong took roll. Usually I preferred to sit somewhere near the front of the room, but everyone knew about Mr. Armstrong's lisp, so Rose and I sat just three rows from the back. We definitely didn't want to be anywhere near Armstrong when he spoke, and I pitied the people who had to be.
"So, I'm going to walk around, and I want each of you to pull out an envelope. Inside that envelope should be a short description about the pen pal that you'll be writing to everyday this semester. After you read it, I want you to write back, telling them a little bit about you." Armstrong said and picked a bag up off his desk.
"Isn't pen pals what we used to do in grade school?" I asked Rosalie with an eye roll.
She shrugged. "I think it could be fun."
"Right." I said sarcastically as Mr. Armstrong approached my desk. I smiled at him politely and pulled one out quickly, allowing him to move on. I opened my envelope and pulled the paper out.
First off I guess I should let you know that this I find this whole thing stupid. Pen pals are so grade five, for real. But now that that's cleared up, my name's Anthony. As you know, I'm a senior. I'm six foot tall and athletically built. I'm loud, obnoxious, and love to have a good time. I think school's a joke and a complete waste of my time. Anyway, I hope you're not some nerd that I've just offend by calling a nerd and insulting school, but I honestly just don't care.
PS, I really hope I didn't offend you.
I laughed as I read through the letter. Even though I made great grades, I hated school too. I had always dreamed about being a fashion designer, but those dreams were destroyed when my parents decided that that wasn't a suitable career choice for me. I knew that my pen pal, Anthony, was lying about his appearance. He had to be, I've known most of my class since grade school. There's no way I missed a six foot tall, athletically built guy.
I pulled my paper out after reading the letter a few times I began to write my response.
Like you, I find this project incredibly lame. Since you weren't that carefully as to not step on feelings, I feel like that something that I should return to you. I really don't understand why were doing this, if I want to talk to someone that's what I have my friends for, not some random person in another class. Anyway, my name's Iz, and just so we're clear and in case you can' tell from the handwriting, I am, in fact, a girl. I'm only five feet, two inches but I wear heels a lot to make me taller. I love sports, and on the weekends I usually sleep in past noon.
PS, no offense taken.
I folded my note and stuffed it in envelope writing my pen pals name on the front. When the bell rang, I slid my shoes back on and Rosalie and I handed our letters to Armstrong.
"Leave it to Armstrong to come up with the lamest project in history." I said and rolled my eyes.
"I'm telling you Bella, this could be fun."
"Fun, right. Can't wait."
Should I make Bella a blond? Or should she stay a brunette? Just put your preference in a review.