Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight
Chapter One: Scorned
"Bella," Renee said to her as she began to stir, "It's time to wake up, sweetie."
Bella groaned. "No."
"Come on, sweetheart. You wouldn't want to be late for your junior year."
Yes, I would. Actually, I would prefer it if I didn't go at all.
"I think I'll just stay in bed for the next ten months, Mom," She muttered into her pillow.
The sheets of her bed were abruptly ripped off her body, letting the cool air stick to her skin. "Get up, Bella. This year is going to be great!"
When Bella heard Renee close the door, she opened her eyes. Sunlight began to spill from her window, allowing a luminous glow to brighten the room. She could smell the makings of pancakes coming from downstairs, and rolled her eyes. Renee always made pancakes on the first day of school, saying that everyone needed something sweet to start the school year. However, Bella had learned that no matter how wonderful the breakfast was, her life at Fork's High School would be forever miserable.
She pushed herself out of bed and scratched the back of her head as she made her way to the bathroom. Bella avoided the full-length mirror her mother had put in. She hated looking in the mirror, mainly because she would always meet with the same reflection – pale skin, big brown eyes, and dark brown-almost-black hair that came to her waist. Before, it was like any other mirror, only showing her face and the top of her build. But ever since her mom had replaced it, Bella could not only see her face and the top of her build, but the rest of her body as well.
It wasn't like Bella had a bad body, she just wasn't as confident as those other girls at her school. If anything, the only thing Bella liked about her appearance was truly her hair. For most of her life, her mother always had it cut to her shoulders, making her look like she was twelve. The fact that her hair made unruly twists, only made her look younger. But over the course of a year, she was able to grow her hair out. Now it was long and made loose waves.
However, Bella still didn't feel that confident about herself. It wasn't like her classmates made an effort to think otherwise. If anything, they only made her self-esteem shrink to the size of an ant.
"Bella!" She heard Renee yell, "Take a shower already! You're breakfast is ready."
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, "Okay, Mom." She turned on the hot water and stripped of her pajamas.
Bella always took long showers, relishing the moment of actually being alone without her classmates' taunts and her parent's lectures. This was the only time where she and her thoughts couldn't be bothered. However, her father, Phil, always hounded her for raising the water bill. Well, Phil hounded her no matter what, and it wasn't like Renee did anything to stop it.
Renee always complained about her husband, usually starting with the words: "Phil isn't the smartest man . . ." and ending with the words, "But he's a good man, Bella." Bella thought that that was complete and utter shit, because otherwise there wouldn't be bruises and scratches on her body. And still, Renee did nothing to stop it. Maybe that was why she made pancakes on special days, a way to say that she was sorry for being a bystander.
Well, it was the thought that counted, right?
Bella didn't need to look out the window or check the weather channel in order to plan what to wear – it was Forks, meaning that it would be another day of overcast skies and never ending rain. She sighed and slipped on a pair of jeans and the grey sweater top Renee had bought for her. Before running out of her room, Bella looked in the mirror and bit her lip. She looked ready, her hair soft and her skin clear, but still average. Without blinking once more in the mirror, Bella grabbed her backpack and shut her bedroom door behind her. She nearly fell when she ran down the stairs, but the banister saved her from another injury.
"It's about time you got here," Renee said. Bella looked like her, but instead of the long locks she had, Renee had short hair falling just above her shoulders. Another thing was that instead of brown eyes; she had striking blue ones. For that, Bella envied her.
"I'm still in summer mode," She said, grabbing a plate and placing a pancake on it, "Where's dad?"
Renee sighed. "He had to go to work early."
"But of course," Bella mumbled.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Bella looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "He's always at work."
"Yes, because he's a busy man," Renee replied nonchalantly, cleaning the dishes. "Work is time consuming, Bella."
"Not time consuming enough, because he still has time to take his stress out on me. If he's such a busy man, how can he fit abuse into his sched – "
She dropped the pan and whipped around. "That's enough!" Bella watched as Renee took deep breaths before taking the pan out of the sink. "Eat your breakfast."
Bella shook her head and pushed the plate away from her, "No, thanks. I'd rather not have a serving of bullshit this morning." She could hear Renee calling for her, spilling apologies and offers, but she ignored it. It made Bella sick to hear what Renee said about Phil, only to defend him when Bella had something to say.
Hypocrisy . . . what a fucked up world that word brought along.
After fishing for her cell phone, Bella noted that it was fifteen to nine – meaning that she was going to get to school much earlier than she had wanted to. But then again, it wasn't like she really wanted to be at home either. She groaned and leaned her head back. She wanted to go somewhere warm – a place where it never rained and the sun always shining. But to be perfectly honest, any place was better than the hellhole that was Forks.
Speak of the devil . . . Bella thought.
Coming around the corner of her neighbor's house was none other than Edward Cullen. He was clad in dark jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt under his unbuttoned pea coat. His hair was the usual copper colored dump and his green eyes glowed like a mutant. In other words, he totally defined the term: douche. Which was basically why Bella called him General Douche Master – Douche Master for short – behind his back. That, and the unknown hatred he had towards her.
At one moment, Douche Master looked at her, and their eyes locked. It was only one second of innocence . . . before he scowled. Bella scoffed and rolled her eyes. As much as she wanted to wound his ego this morning, Bella knew he wasn't worth it. The two got into their individual cars, and turned on the ignition. Bella let him back out first and head off, since she knew how much of a crazy driver he was. And as Bella followed the trail, all she could think was: Ha! My car is better than yours, asshole.
Which was true, her car was much better than Douche Master's. She knew that his parents got him a BMW for his seventeenth birthday – because for some reason his mother, Esme, took a liking to Bella and told her a lot of useless information – and knew he had wanted that vehicle for quite some time. Douche Master knew Bella was jealous, because her car was beat up and on the verge of going to the dump. That was, until a month ago, Bella had received an Audi convertible as a very belated birthday present from Renee. She remembered saying that having a convertible in a town that rained as much as Forks was unreasonable, but Renee shrugged and said, "You're sixteen, and this is your sweet present from your amazing mom."
And the minute he saw her car, Bella wanted to take a picture. His expression was flawless, and after all these years of being neighbors, Bella finally had the winning hand. However, that was the only winning hand she received, since Douche Master still had the whole school calling her the Duck. She sighed . . . only two more years, and she was out of Forks for good.
Bella arrived at Forks High School with five minutes to spare. She pulled out the bright yellow paper that had her schedule printed in black and got out of her car. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she pressed the button on her key that locked her doors. Bella noticed the amount of stares she had gotten, and the whispers about the car. Bella could have only guessed that they were discussing how the Duck could have a car like that. To be honest, she didn't really know either. In fact, she still wasn't sure how Renee convinced Phil to get her the car in the first place, since he made it blatantly clear that he would only ever pay for the old beat up truck.
It was the first day of school and Bella was already stressing over everything. She inwardly laughed at herself, because stressing was something she always did.
The stares were gone, and everyone ignored her. Just the way Bella liked it – just the way she had lived it. As she walked through the hallway, students had already gotten their lockers and were filling it with their textbooks. Which reminded Bella that she still needed to get her books. She took a right and pushed through the wooden doors of the library. Many kids her age were lining up for their individual books. Bella looked at her schedule and then back to the tables, deciding to line up in the shortest line first and then work her way up.
So that meant she got her French book first, and then her Biology text. When she lined up for her English Literary class, a couple of girls had budged in front of her. As much as Bella wanted to tell them to go to the back of the line, she knew they wouldn't move. Everyone at Fork's High seemed to have some sort of power, and they all owned it and rubbed it in Bella's face.
"Here's your locker number and lock," One of the teachers said before yelling, "Next!"
Bella squeezed her way through all of the students in the hallway. She hated the new location of her locker. It was on the left wing of the school when her homeroom was in the right wing, and to add to the list, it wasn't too far from the gym. Just fucking fantastic.
Being the klutz she was, she almost ran into one of the guys on the football team. Luckily she dodged him before she caused a major accident, but it didn't stop him from saying, "Watch where you're going, Freak."
Snickers from his group of friends made the tops of her ears grow hot, and she walked away without replying. What was even worse was that Douche Master saw the scene. He walked up to Bella, a corner of his mouth tugging into that crooked smile she hated. She ignored him when she found her locker. Douche Master was still there just watching her.
What the hell was his problem?
"Can I help you?" She asked without turning around.
"Like you could do anything for me," He chuckled, "I just want to let you know that the next time you want to stare at me, try to make it more subtle."
Bella locked her locker door and turned around, narrowing her eyes. "Excuse me?"
Douche Master rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. I caught you ogle me this morning. It was fucking freaky."
If it were possible, Bella narrowed her eyes even more. "I was not staring. Is it a crime to look around when you leave the house? And if I'm not mistaken, you were staring at me, too."
"So you admit you were staring."
"What? No . . . I . . . Fuck, can't you just leave me alone? I don't need to be bothered by anyone. Especially not you," Bella spat. She didn't understand why Douche Master was even talking to her, and she preferred it if he kept his distance.
He bit the inside of his cheek. "Whatever, Duck."
Bella watched as he turned around and blended into the crowded hallway. And when she was sure that he wouldn't hear her, she muttered, "Go fuck yourself, Douche."
The rest of the day was just as monotonous as Bella had expected. Aside from the unwanted glares and rude whispers that surrounded her, her morning classes had gone by smoothly. After two years, and going on third, she had gotten quite used to the gossip about the Duck. At first it was painful – seriously, freshman year had been hell – but now it was merely a kink in her day, nothing she couldn't handle. It was a lot better than what she had to face at home. But hey, no one said that life was fair.
So fucking true.
Instead of listening to her teachers ramble about the curriculum, Bella thought about what Phil had said, more like screamed, to her the previous night. She wasn't feeling well – nausea, such a pain in the ass. Renee understood why she didn't want to eat and let her rest. Saying something about how Bella needed to be at her best health for the first day of school. If Bella didn't feel like throwing up, she would have scoffed at that remark. So, like any nauseas human being, Bella went to sleep. She didn't even get fifteen minutes worth of rest before Phil came storming into her bedroom.
"You worthless piece of shit!" He yelled. Bella had jumped back, suddenly regretting that when her stomach did flops. "Your mother made us dinner and here you are, sleeping."
"B-but, I'm not feeling well, Dad," She stuttered.
Phil rolled his eyes and grabbed her wrist aggressively. He pulled her out of bed and dragged her downstairs to the dinner table. And when Renee said that Bella should be resting for school, he replied, "No, she should learn to respect us."
Renee did nothing to stop him and began to fill Bella's plate. Bella watched as Renee gave her a sympathetic expression. She looked away and slowly ate the mashed potatoes and steak, clutching onto her stomach all the while.
"Ms. Swan," Mr. Cormier said, bringing Bella out of her reverie. "Am I boring you, or are you still in the summer slump."
Bella shook her head. "Sorry, sir. I was just daydreaming, it won't happen again."
Mr. Cormier tapped his fingers along his desk, giving Bella a long hard look before returning his gaze to the class. "This year in French, we're going to expand our conversational skills. Now, I know your French is a bit rusty after two months, but qui est assez brave pour commencer une conversation dans le français depuis cinq minutes?"
Bella looked down at her left forearm and raised the sleeve a sliver, only to reveal her bruising wrist. She shuddered that her bruise was in the shape of five fingertips. She could feel someone's stare and she looked to her right. A girl that she had never seen before was staring at Bella's wrist with wide eyes, and when she noticed that Bella was looking back at her, she turned her gaze.
When the bell rang, Bella gathered her books quickly so that she could eat her lunch and satiate her growling stomach. Maybe she should have taken the pancakes to go . . .
"Excuse me," A small voice said. Bella didn't think it was towards her, so she completely ignored it. The voice cleared their throat. "Um, hello?"
Bella looked up tentatively. It was the new girl. "Yes?"
"I didn't mean to stare at your wrist, and I apologize." She was small, probably no taller than five feet, and her blue-black hair was cut into a reverse bob. She had lightly tanned skin and gray eyes. A very pretty girl, that was for sure. Another thing that was for sure was that after this, she would hear that talking to the Duck was not permitted unless she wanted to be damned.
"That's okay," Bella replied softly before getting out of her desk, trying to save the girl from damnation.
"I'm Alice by the way, my mom, brother and I just moved here from California. What's your name?"
This girl actually wanted to know her name? She obviously hadn't been given 'the talk' yet. "Um, I'm Be – "
"New Girl!" Angela Webber hissed to Alice. Angela was the skank of Forks High, and her wardrobe definitely screamed whore. Jesus, it was raining and the chick was wearing a denim mini skirt and tank top. Angela wrapped her arm around Alice's small shoulders and looked down at her. "Look, I know you're new here, so I'm going to give you just a little bit of advice. Don't talk to the Duck," She nodded towards Bella as she looked down at her feet. "Not unless you want to be socially shut down like her."
When they began to leave, Bella looked back up. Alice turned her head to look at Bella, but was forced to gaze back at Angela when the fingers of the whore pulled her chin. Bella flinched at the gesture – it reminded her of Phil.
"You're lucky I got to you before you caught the bird flu," She heard Angela say.
Geez, Bella thought. I should be a fucking psychic.
There it was, Angela was giving Alice the rundown of how things went around here. Bella didn't even get the chance to give Alice her name, so that at least someone would know she actually had one besides Duck or Freak. She sighed. Oh well, it was just another day at Forks High for her.
Bella entered the cafeteria. No one acknowledged her, and she liked it like that. At least, she told herself that she liked not being bothered. She waited in line to grab a sandwich and a juice box, crossing her arms over her chest. When she had retrieved her lunch, Bella walked to the corner of the room. It was where she always sat, ever since the first day of freshman year. She set down her tray and pulled out her tattered copy of Sense and Sensibility. She ate and read, drowning out the sounds of her classmates as they conversed with each other. Bella was completely lost in words when the bell rang, signaling that lunch hour was over. She bit her lip and gathered her things.
Bella had forgotten that she had to get her notebook for her creative writing class. The cafeteria was close to the classroom, however, not close to her locker. She grumbled expletives all the way to her locker, she seriously wanted to go back to the office and switch because it was just ridiculous. It wasn't the thought of being late bothered Bella, but the mere fact that all eyes would be on her. When she got her things from her damned locker, she booked it to the other side of school. She made it just in time for the warning bell and was glad that not everyone had filed in yet.
Bella had no aspiration to become a writer, but she enjoyed creative writing class. It was a chance to just escape and flee to her world for forty-five minutes. And as she glanced around the room, it seemed that not a lot of people had taken the elective – probably only fifteen students.
Mrs. Anderson came in with a smile on her face. She leaned back on her desk and gave a contemplative sigh. "Welcome back. I'm glad that this is a small class, that means we have a better chance of actually gaining something this year."
The tall woman brushed her blonde hair over shoulder and walked around the desk, approaching the chalkboard. In bright pink chalk, she had written: Collaboration.
"Collaboration doesn't necessarily mean writing alongside someone," Mrs. Anderson stated, clapping her hands of the chalk, "By simply peer editing or sharing ideas, you are collaborating. Ah, Mr. Cullen, I'm glad you could join us."
Everyone, but Bella, turned his or her heads to the door. She could hear a lot of the girls gasp. It still boggled her mind as to why they thought he was so good looking. If anything, he looked like preppy garbage. At least, he looked like preppy garbage to her. And when Bella saw him sit in the seat next to her through her peripheral, she rolled her eyes. And there was absolutely no doubt there was a glower on his face.
Mrs. Anderson continued her ramble about collaboration, and how she thought it would be a good idea to use it throughout the course of the year. She also added how it would benefit them, 'since we were all a little groggy from the vacation.' Bella was pretty sure every teacher had to have a warm up and then say something about mushy summer brains in order to start the year.
Bella wasn't really paying attention after that, and she decided that the drawings on her desk were much more amusing. Seriously, did people not have anything better to do than draw a penis on the wooden surface? And since she wasn't listening, Mrs. Anderson's hand on her head shocked her. The teacher turned Bella's head towards Douche Master's and his towards her.
"You are now looking at your collaboration partner for the year."
Oh for the love of God!
"Um, Mrs. Anderson?" Douche Master murmured, "I don't think that we should be partners."
"I completely agree," Bella said. That was probably the only time Bella would ever agree with him.
Mrs. Anderson looked taken back. "Why not?"
Douche Master started, "Well, first off, she's a freak whose only friend are classic novels . . ."
Bella pointed towards him. "And he's an egotistical jerk who probably spends more time looking in the mirror than doing the work in this class . . ."
Their rambling was interrupted by Mrs. Anderson's chuckling. "Oh, you two will make fantastic collaborators." With that final word, she moved onto partnering the rest of the class.
"I'm going to make your life a living hell," Edward said to Bella in the utmost seriousness.
She scoffed. "I'm already in hell, thank you very much. You were a great contributor to that."
Not in the mood to say anything else, she opened her blank notebook and began doodling. It seemed that Douche Master didn't have anything else to say either since he slowly turned in his desk so that he was facing the front. It wasn't until five minutes after she had said those words did she realize their truth.
She was living in hell, and Douche Master did help with that. For no reason, he disliked her the minute they met. It was never a problem, since they never really talked through elementary or middle school. It wasn't until the first day of high school did he make his hate for her that much more apparent. With his social high, he was able to get the nickname Duck to spread around, and the fact that she didn't have any friends, the name Freak was also included. Bella didn't know what made him hate her so much; it was ludicrous.
Mrs. Anderson used the remainder of the class to go over the different types of assignments they would be doing. She also stated that they would begin collaborating the next day, which made Bella inwardly groan. They would be brainstorming tomorrow, which meant they actually had to talk for the duration of the period. Bella could predict what was going to happen the next day, and she was not excited.
Bella couldn't be any more relieved when class ended; only one more to go and the day would be over. Douche Master glared at her before he got out of his desk and stalked outside of the classroom.
"Ass," She muttered under her breath.
Having gym at the end of the day was both good and bad. Good, because that meant she wouldn't have to be sweaty all day, and her locker was also very near the doors. It was bad because she was athletically inept. She grabbed her gym clothes from her locker and pushed through the gymnasium doors, the stench of sweat filling her nose. Ugh, she hated physical education. Bella made her way to the girl's change room and found the locker she was assigned. She changed quickly and groaned when she saw Angela Webber and her new slave Alice Whateverherlastnamewas.
Just as Bella had expected, gym was hell. They had to play volleyball. Her teammates knew that Bella couldn't do shit, so they covered for her. However, since Angela was on her team and was flirting with Tyler, she didn't cover her. Bella had to bump the ball, only to have it land on Angela's head.
"You bitch!" She shrieked, touching the top of her head. "You ruined my hair! You're such a freak!"
Everyone in the gymnasium laughed and pointed at Bella, and all she did was look away. Their taunts and teasing seemed to have prolonged for hours, each one of them making their way to her head. And just when she was about to book it out of the gymnasium, someone touched her arm, and she surprised her to see it was Alice. "Come on, let's get out of here early," She whispered.
Bella nodded warily as Alice led her back to the change rooms. They changed into their regular clothes in silence, and she was happy that she could cover the bruise once again. Bella slung her backpack over her shoulder and pulled her hair over to one side. Alice took Bella's hand as they snuck out the gym. The halls were quiet, the only sound were their shoes squeaking along the floors.
Once they were outside and Bella was standing next to her car she said, "Thanks, Alice. I don't know why you did it, but I'm glad you did."
Alice shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I know what it's like to be ridiculed, so I think they're all jerks."
"What about Angela?"
"Like I said, I think they're jerks," Alice looked side to side and whispered to Bella, "You wouldn't know where I could get some weed, would you?"
Bella shook her head. "No, I'm sorry."
Alice smiled. "Good. I just want to make sure my new friend isn't into stuff like that. See you around, Bella." Alice turned on her heel and ran back to the school, slipping inside.
Bella shook her head incredulously. She wondered why Alice did something nice for her, since it never really happened that often. And why she called Bella her friend. Except neither of those two truly bothered her, it was the fact that Alice hadn't called her by any of the nicknames she was unwillingly given. She actually called her by her name, and she had no idea how she got it.
"How was your first day?" Renee called from the kitchen as soon as Bella stepped through the front door.
Bella grimaced. "Just peachy."
Just as she was about to climb the stairs, she heard the man on the TV talking about the football game. She could only guess that Phil was home early, which was very rare. But then again, the whole entire day had just been full of rarities.
"Bella," He said monotonously, "Are you feeling better?"
She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. "Um, yeah."
"Good. So I'll be expecting your ass on the chair for dinner this time without my help." He said nonchalantly, not really saying it to her, since his eyes were glued to the flat screen TV. But she knew that it was directed towards her. "Go do your homework so that you can leave for college."
When Bella got to her room, she chucked her backpack to the corner and collapsed on her bed. Tears spilled from her eyes and she let them fall. She looked out her window as she lay on the bed, only to gasp when she saw Douche Master watching her from his bedroom. She got out of the bed and walked over to the window furiously. Bella closed the blinds and huffed. She didn't need Douche Master to know that she was crying, since he probably thought that the tears were from gym class. There was no doubt that that had been spread throughout the school.
But school was the least of Bella's worries, since she now had to face dinner, which was much scarier than Angela's outburst.
Translation for that sentence in Bella's French Class:
Qui est assez brave pour commencer une conversation dans le français depuis cinq minutes: which is rather brave to begin a dialogue in French for five minutes?
Here is the first chapter of my new story! I really hope you like it and decide to go on this journey with me. I can tell you right now that this story will be intense (in a good way). I'm so excited :)
I'm hoping to get the second chapter out next week. It's already written, I just need to edit it.
From those of you who read Believe Me, and have ventured here .. WELCOME BACK MY LOVELIES. For the newbies .. WASSUP ;)
Um, my French is very minimal. I used to know French, but it's been like five years since my last French class. It's been awhile. So if my French in that one sentence wasn't correct, I apologize. In no way was I meaning to offend anyone.
Tell me your thoughts, please. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW :)