39Hi, all!First of all, thank you so much for clicking and choosing to give my fic a go, I truly appreciate it. Second, on a more serious note, I would like to state that I own nothing here, save for my main character. My third and final note, I would like to say that I do not agree with how Twilight's author treated the very real tribe of people whom she used for monetary gain, so I've chosen to create an entirely new tribe for my main character to hail from in a small attempt to be more respectful. I understand that this choice may not make complete sense to some, but I don't feel that it's my place to invent histories etc (as Stephanie did) for a real tribe when it makes far more moral sense to, instead, simply create a fictional tribe and avoid harming any real people.
Chapter OneWith the boredom of class finally through, River stood with the rest of her class, hurriedly stuffing her books into her bag and shuffling off to her locker. Like most of the kids in La Push, she went to the only school on the Res. Unlike the other kids though, she wasn't born into the tribe. In fact, she had been born to another tribe. There were a few distant relations here and there, but her immediate family all hailed from the Cahnol tribe, Utah.
It didn't matter much to River where she was from. To be frank, she liked La Push and enjoyed the fact that she felt at home there. After all, she'd only been five when her parents had moved, so she hadn't really felt uprooted by it or anything. That being said, there were still a few in town when looked at her and her family weird. Some folks who didn't want someone from another tribe mingling with them. It probably didn't help that River wasn't exactly a tame, quiet, submissive girl, but what the hell did she care.
With everything from her locker, she followed the massive crowd, careful not to bump into anyone in the halls. She may have been bigger than the other girls, bit she wouldn't muscle her way through people just to get out of school a half a minute faster.
As the people around her fanned out and mingled among their friendship groups, River instead headed through the parking lot to her motorcycle. It had been a gift from her father and she treasured it so. He hadn't ever really been an affectionate man, nor had he been cruel, just a man who loved his family in his own ways. Still, upon hearing his eldest daughter tell him that she had a girlfriend, he did his best to support her. Of course, he didn't realise that what he was actually doing was pushing mildly offensive stereotypes, but River simply appreciated the effort and the gift.
With short hair, practically a styled buzzcut, she had no need to tie her hair up, so her helmet slid on smoothly as she swung her leg to straddle the bike. From the box mounted on the back, she produced an armoured jacket, slinging it on, following it with a pair of gloves. Luckily for her, her jeans were especially for riding. They weren't exactly stylish, but neither was she. After all, they were just jeans, plus they were the price of safety. They didn't look massively different, they still hugged her curves nicely enough and whatnot, but they were very much a functional item of clothing above all else.
Unlike her younger sister, River didn't exactly have any friends. Well, not any that went to her school. She hung around with a couple of kids from Forks High at the gym she worked at, but she was a bit of a loner when it came to school. She didn't really mind all too much, but it did make the days drag sometimes, especially if anyone decided to mess with her. Not having anyone to sit with at lunch, no one to talk to or mess around with in class, no one to drive to and from school with. It got lonely. Still, she kept her head high.
She turned the key in the ignition, firing her bike to life beneath her. She had work every day after school, a half hour after finishing. Thankfully, it only took her twenty minutes or so to get to Forks and another two or three minutes to get into the gym and get ready, so she didn't tend to rush. She had her timing down to a fine art. Being on a bike didn't hurt either since she could avoid most traffic.
As she prepared to ride off, a small group walked out in front of her. Annoyed, she revved her engine and watched as they looked back at her, chuckled, then carried on about their business. Upon realising who it was, her blood began to boil. Only one of them, Seth Clearwater, waved apologetically and skipped a step to get out of the way. The others though? The others, lead by Mr. Asshole himself, Paul Lahote, simply stood a few feet away, meaning she'd have to manoeuvre around them.
What was River's issue with Paul? Well, to put it simply, he was a huge asshole. Granted, he wasn't as bad in recent months, but there was time that she couldn't so much as walk past him in the hall without him making some cruel remark or even just walking right into her. Of course, he was like that with a lot of people, but she took it personally. Thankfully, it had been months since he'd singled anyone out, but everyone had noticed how volatile he'd become since he took all that time off sick. They all had, each of them in his group of friends, taken time off sick and then come back different. Frankly, River didn't care what they'd been doing; though she suspected steroids from simply looking at them. She just wanted to knock Paul on his ass one day.
She considered clipping him with her boot on the way past him, but she didn't want the hassle. Instead, she got around them and rode off, trying to think positive thoughts on her way to the gym.
The ride was time enough to clear her head, so thankfully when she arrived at work, it was with a genuine smile.
Once she was inside and changed, she got to work, first with cleaning all of the equipment, then with some admin stuff. When she'd scored a job in a gym, she hadn't actualy imagined that she would be cleaning and acting as a receptionist, but work was work. Without a job she couldn't afford gas, she couldn't afford to buy cool things or to go to nice places. She understood the value of money a little better now she was earning and spending her own, that much was for sure.
The cherry on top of it all though? Well, that would be the blonde. Typical, right? Right, but the blonde in question, Skylar, was just so freaking gorgeous. River wasn't usually all that fussed on looks, really she wasn't, but there was no denying that Skylar was just stunning in a classic, dripping with sex kind of way.
While River worked at the gym for free access to the boxing ring and other machines, Skylar worked there to look good to colleges. Not that it mattered since she was practically a sure bet as far as athletic scholarships went. River wasn't all too interested in college, but she worked hard for an academic scholarship all the same. She wouldn't be heartbroken if she didn't get one and worked full time in the gym after school, but she knew that it would be awesome to go to a college someplace else and see more of the world.
"Working hard, Nivalis?" Skylar asked over an assisted dipping machine as River cleaned the bottom.
Nivalis. Her last name. A family name that, as her father raised her to be, she was proud of.
With a smile, she looked up and raised a brow. "Hardly working, Monroe?" She asked back, standing and wiping her hands off on her clothes. The two girls looked longingly at one another over the machine, feeling the rest of the gym melt away around them. "What are you doing later?" River queried, leaning against the metal, watching Skylar's mouth turn up slightly at the corners.
The blonde mimicked her posture before replying. "I haven't a clue. You?" She pulled a set of keys from her pocket, letting them hang from her finger for River to see.
Upon recognising the keys were for the gym, River ducked her head to hide her smile and nodded. "Not much." She responded, trying to keep the grin from her voice.
With a light chuckle, Skylar straightened herself and walked past River, letting her hand reach out and skim the other girl's side as she went. Needless to say, the rest of the shift went painfully slowly. Through the last hour, they shared glances across the room but nothing more. It wasn't until the gym was all locked up and the shutters were down that Skylar came thundering over to River and shoved her forcefully into the main desk.
River, naturally, didn't complain as their lips meshed, spinning the blonde and clambering on top of her as she lay back against the desk's wooden surface.
It wasn't too much later that they all but fell out of the doors, both giddy in the aftermath of sex and young, sneaky romance. River spent her ride home thinking about Skylar's milky white skin, about how it moved under her, how so very smooth it was, about how she wanted nothing more than to be always touching it.
Now, they weren't dating, River and Skylar, just hooking up from time to time. It hadn't been River's idea, but it sure as hell was a sweet deal for her. She wouldn't have minded dating, but it just wasn't their deal.
When River finally found herself at home, turning her bike off outside the single-story, white-painted, wooden-front house, she was tired to say the least. Her dad's cruiser was on the small, gravel driveway; her mom's and sister's cars both sat around the other side, tyres caked in thick layers of mud. They'd been meaning to make a larger gravel path and driveway around the house for as long as River had been able to drive, but simply hadn't ever gotten round to it.
River's house was like most houses on the res. It was spacious, wooden on the outside, patched up with a little bit of everything, had a nice plot of land around it and, more than anything else, was homey. River had envied the kids from neighbouring towns like Forks for their grand houses, but had since grown to love her own home. Her parents worked hard each and every day to provide her and her sister with the lies that they lived and for that she was grateful.
One of the things that made the Nivalis home stand out was the fact that River's mother, Alma, was an inspired painter with a heart of gold who viewed the world as her canvas. The back of their house was, more often than not, painted some new colour, occasionally housing some beautiful, often sorrow-filled portrait. Not to mention that her car, a Honda Accord, was always covered in paint, albeit not intentionally.
The ice to Alma's fire, River's father, was one of Chief Swan's deputies over in Forks. He worked mainly on the res and was a strict, fair man. He always gave people the chance to change their ways, but he was by no means to be taken for a fool.
Together, Richard -or Dick, as he went by- and Alma were near enough the perfect couple. They were a blend of traditional and modern and raised two respectful daughters.
When River walked inside, the first thing that she noticed was paint. New cans and tubs of paint all over the hallway. Her mother, it seemed, had a new job. She couldn't help but smile a little. Her mom's infectious attitude hit you before you'd even seen her and River knew that happiness would be in the air if a new job was about. "I'm ho-ome!" She called into the air, grinning as her mother rounded the corner, dragging her father.
While their home was large enough for them, it was hardly a mansion. Through the front door, you were immediately in the living room. From there was an open plan kitchen on the left, three bedrooms across the living room, a bathroom on the end and a wash room where an outhouse had once been. They had a garage outside and an attic above it, but they mostly had River's things.
From her room, River's sister emerged, rolling her eyes, texting away as always. "Oh good." She spoke dryly. "We were beginning to get worried." She added, walking forward and flopping onto one of the two couches.
River, used to the attitude, ignored her. "Brooke." Their mother scolded gently, not letting it affect her mood though as she approached her eldest daughter and brought her into a truly motherly hug, rocking from one foot to another. "How was school? And work?" She asked, releasing River and leaving a small piece of craft paper some how sticking to her cheek.
Still grinning, River chuckled and wiped the piece of paper away. "Work was good." She answered honestly, thinking briefly about Skylar before shutting those thoughts down around her parents. "New job?" She then asked, nodding to the paint.
Excitedly, almost like a child, Alma practically jumped on the spot. "Oh, yes! New job." She confirmed, talking again before River could even congratulate her. "You know the Uleys? Well, Sam Uley? He and his fiancé want me to paint their house! Of course, you know that I love young love, so I was more than fair. I'm charging materials and some fuel. Oh gosh, they were so lovely. I think that Emily said that she wanted to open a café, isn't that lovely? Oh, Dick, we'll have to go one day and..."
As her mother carried on chattering away, River walked through the cluttered living room, dropping her backpack on Brooke's face intentionally as the younger girl tried to take a selfie on the couch, retreating to her room as Brooke yelped.
The rest of the evening was much of a muchness. Dick told them all about the station drama and how Sheriff Swan's daughter, Bella, was back with the weird Cullen kid since he and his family had come back to Forks. River found that a wild story since she'd heard that he literally dumped her in the middle of the woods. Alma carried on saying how simply lovely Sam Uley and Emily Young were, then going on to wax lyrical about Sue Clearwater's fish fry and how it was just like Harry's had been. Brooke, to River's dismay, spoke at length about her crush on Jacob Black, making River roll her eyes. Through all of it, as they cooked, as they sat and ate, as they sat on the couches and watched some movie as a family, River couldn't help but feel like the odd one out.
Despite she and Brooke being so very different, they were only a year apart in age, almost to the day in fact. River had been a couple of days late and Brooke had been a whole month and a half early. Their mom always told them as kids that the spirits wanted them to be as close in age as possible so that they could be the best of friends. It worked for a while, but as it became clear that River had no interest in being popular and Brooke most definitely did, their paths split. Since then, they had differed at almost every turn, whether it was from their haircuts to their favourite meals, or their favourite classes or pastimes. They couldn't agree on much of anything anymore. River felt an ache deep in her chest if she thought about it for too long; they used to everything together, she definitely hadn't expected them to end up like this.
Later that night, as River drifted into sleep, she was entirely oblivious as to what the spirits had in store for her the very next day. She had no idea how her life would change, be it for better or for worse. She simply set her morning alarms and drifted away, dreaming until the morning came and her alarm clock tore her from slumber.
.
.
.
.
.
River's life hadn't changed dramatically over night. Oh no, the change would come during the day. But when? Well, thankfully she didn't have to worry about that since she wasn't expecting a day out of the ordinary.
To be precise though, it was after second period, right as she was trying to remember if she'd packed her lunch that morning. She was just headed to her locker before a study period, hoping to any of the spirits that would listen, hoping with everything in her that she'd at least made a sandwich since she hadn't eaten breakfast, when she collided with a brick wall.
Wait, a wall? No, not a wall, but Christ, it sure had felt like one.
As she bounced off whatever, or whoever, it was, crashing into some random lockers, she looked up only to be filled with rage. "The fuck is your problem, Lahote?" She growled out, feeling a few pairs of eyes looking at them both during the whole incident. She may not have been popular, but that didn't meant that she wasn't known. In fact, she and Paul were known somewhat for their ability to turn anything and everything into a fight.
Paul, ever the asshole, chuckled humourlessly, looking her up and down before stepping closer, threatening, as his eyes met hers in a fierce- oh.
Oh.
Everything halted. There was no noise, nothing but those eyes that were suddenly boring so very deeply into her own as she felt herself suddenly being drawn into the heat of his hulking frame, so very close to her own. The world stood still, stripping every ounce of weight from her shoulders, making her feel so very light and free in his presence, as if she could have floated away if not for him standing so close, trapping her perfectly against the lockers. Looking deeper, she realised that she hadn't ever noticed the small hazel flecks in his otherwise woodsy brown eyes. All she could see, smell, hear, even taste, was him.
It was incredible. He was incredible.
A locker beside her was wrenched open and the weight of the world fell back down, crushing her. She realised, in that moment, she had been staring into Paul Lahote's eyes like some silly little schoolgirl in front of half the damn school. Granted, she technically was a schoolgirl, but still! Fuck, what was wrong with her?
Embarrassed, she dropped his gaze an scurried away, unsure of where she was going, forgetting her original mission of hunting down her lunch. It wasn't long before she found herself outside, sitting under the old bleachers. No one really tended to go out there too much given the forever miserable weather, so she was safe to sit and to process whatever the fuck that had been.
What had that been?
Since when did she want to get lost in anyone's eyes, let alone his?
Groaning, she fell back into the damp grass with her head in her hands, feeling the near bald back of her head soak in an instant. It was nice though, the cold. Shocking and enough to bring her out of whatever the hell she was going through for just a second. Seriously though, what the hell ha happened?
She managed to somehow hide out the rest of the school day out there before going back inside. How, she had no idea, but it dawned on her quickly that she needed to get the work that she'd missed. It wouldn't have mattered too much since she was doing well in classes, but she never intentionally missed them.
As she continued down the hall though, there it was again, that feeling. Weightlessness. She began to feel the calming heat of worrying about nothing at all, not even caring about the fact that her head was so cold that she'd probably wake up sick. Then, to top it all off, she saw him. Paul. Whatever was going on, whatever this feeling was, it was all his fault. Just as she began to let her blood boil though, he looked up from his group of friends and caught her eyes across the busy hallway, almost as if he'd sensed her across the room.
Pinned by his gaze, she stopped, thankfully in a small alcove, just beside the girls' bathroom. The door swung open and hit her, knocking her a step away, so she grabbed it and quickly retreated inside. The girl, Kim something, apologised quickly, but River didn't pay her a second of thought, rushing into one of the stalls and locking it behind her as the world began to spiral around her.
A little scared, she braced her hands on either side of the cubicle, screwing her eyes shut and breathing deeply, not caring that anyone else in there could have heard her spiralling into panic.
A few minutes had passed by the time she felt okay to leave the bathroom again. That was long enough for Paul and his friends to be gone, right?
Wrong. The second she left the bathroom, it was crazy, she could feel him. She couldn't for a million dollars have told you how, but she knew when she veered sharply left out of the bathroom that he was across the hall to the right still. As she made to bolt, she couldn't help but want desperately to turn around, to catch his eyes across the hall again, but she held off. She scurried away and all but ran to her bike once she was outside, not necessarily caring who she had to barge past to get the hell away.
She shot out of the school parking lot like a bat out of hell, praying that her drive to work would be enough to clear her mind.
Alas. It was not.
When she entered the gym though, that was when she saw her. Skylar. The beautiful blonde.
She spied her on her way into one of the many supply closets and made short work of following her in, shutting the door behind them.
Skylar, to give the girl her due, jumped and spun, ready to strike until she saw River and melted into a smile. "Really? You wanna risk it?" She asked, brow cocked.
River, instead of answering, launched herself at the other girl, desperate to feel anything that wasn't the eyes of Paul Lahote burning her skin. Thankfully, Skylar complied.
The two girls, in the middle of the thankfully loud gym, made light work of one another, hidden in the deep shadows of the supply closet, pushing and pulling, grunting and moaning, kissing, tasting, touching. Through it all though, River's mind was anywhere but that closet. She wondered, had Skylar's hands always been so small? Had her skin always been so pale? In fact, she wondered, what would a rougher hand feel like, grabbing at the nape of her neck? How would her skin compare against another body with a tone much more like her own? How would it feel to be pinned against the shelves by a grip that she would actually struggle to get away from?
She knew what she was really asking. What would it feel like, trapping herself in that same closet with him, but she didn't let herself ask that, not really. No. Instead, she fucked until all she could feel was the sore muscles and the sweat rolling down her back.
Then, just as quickly as they'd found themselves together, it was over. Skylar was leaving first, telling River with a giggle to leave a few minutes after her. How the hell was she meant to think of work after that? Sex with Skylar had never been anything short of magical before now, so what the hell had that been? She'd never had to fake pleasure before in her life.
She wasn't sure how long she stayed in that same closet though, sitting on the floor with her shirt in her hands, thinking, but it was long enough that Skylar came back with a concerned brow. "River?" She asked, closing the door behind herself again, crouching and placing a hand on River's knee.
Shocked from whatever had been going on, River stood quickly and glanced around the closet. "I don't know what's wrong with me." She croaked. Something was wrong, wasn't it? "I don't- how long have I been in here?" She then asked, turning her full attention to the blonde.
Looking more concerned by the second, Skylar reached out and touched the back of her hand to River's forehead. "You feel okay." She spoke softly. "You've been here for about an hour. I'm so sorry, I wouldn't have left you in here if I knew you weren't okay. I wouldn't have had sex with you. God, you must think I'm terrible." She stepped closer, stroking a hand down the stubbly side of River's head and looking sadly into her eyes.
Taking a deep, shuddery breath in, River kept her gaze before feeling a tear on her cheek. She never cried. "It happened at school, too. I was under the bleachers. I think I was under there for hours." Her voice was so very small, not at all the usually strong girl. What the hell was going on with her?
Skylar dragged her into a hug, holding her close. "I'll call your mom, okay? We'll get you home. Is there something going around?" Alas, River wasn't listening, not anymore. Instead, she was trying to pin when this started. It was that morning. It was when Paul fucking Lahote crashed into her in the lockers.
She wasn't sure if she wanted to beat his ass the next time she saw him or stick her tongue down his throat. Both mental images made opposing sides of her feel sick. Instead of thinking about it more, she simply closed her eyes, let her head fall forward onto Skylar's shoulder and tried desperately to take comfort in the proximity of their bodies. She just wanted this feeling to stop. She wanted to be able to breathe again. She wanted to feel normal. It hadn't even been a day of feeling this way and she already felt like she was going insane.
Thankfully, her mom didn't take too long to arrive, rushing inside the gym like a motherly whirlwind of love and concern, all but scooping River up in the ridiculously colourful shawl she had draped across her shoulders. She had hoped that her mother would have been a welcome distraction, but she didn't feel any better.
All the same, she took her arm and followed her out to the car, not caring about how her bike would get home.
She felt, for the rest of the day, as though she was living just outside of her own body. Everything was happening around her, to her, but she wasn't really there, not really feeling it. It was almost like watching someone else entirely, still through her own eyes, still her own life, but none of it was getting through to her. Even when Brooke called her a "stupid asswipe" and proceeded to get grounded for it, nothing. Not even a smile.
It wasn't until the following morning after a horrendous night of almost no sleep that she felt like she finally snapped back into her own skin.
It was when her alarm went off and she sat upright that she breathed deeply and decided that she would have a good day. She'd keep her head down, she'd get her work done and she'd give Brooke a dead arm if she refused to take her to work. It would be a good day. She would apologise to Skylar for whatever fucking breakdown she'd had, maybe they'd have sex in the closet again that she'd actually enjoy. The largest thing on her list though? She would ignore Paul Lahote at all costs.
Please feel free to leave any and all feedback in the comments or as a PM! Hopefully you enjoyed if you made it this far, but if not then thank you for giving me a go. Who knows, maybe you'll prefer the next chapter? Fear not, I won't make you wait long, I've got the first six or seven already written, so they'll be released soon enough in regular intervals.