Bloody Mary // J. Hale

Rubik Cube

Philosophy was one of those elective classes students could choose if their schedules had gaps. Most of the students in the 'Masterclass' program had already completed their SAT's in a subject they excelled at. But for Jenna Marston, things were a little different. She had fallen behind in Spanish—a subject she had only studied for four months before moving to Forks. Back in Seattle, a shortage of teachers had left her two years behind, and now, joining the regular Spanish class wasn't an option. Instead, her parents and the school principal had agreed it would be best for her to join the Masterclass program.

The program offered four subjects: Computer Programming, Art History, Latin, and Philosophy. It was only available to juniors and seniors, and while most students steered clear of Philosophy, deeming it boring, Jenna had found herself strangely drawn to it. Back in Seattle, she had picked up a book from the library, thinking it was a fantasy novel. It turned out to be a philosophical exploration, with only a sprinkling of fantasy elements, but the book had piqued her curiosity. She didn't expect to enjoy it, but with little else to do, she gave it a chance. To her surprise, she found herself intrigued by the questions it posed about life and existence. So, when it came time to choose her subject, she went with Philosophy, a choice most students avoided.

The Philosophy class was small—seven students in total, five seniors and two juniors. That number now went up by one with Jenna's arrival.

"Thank you for joining us, Ms. Marston," Mrs. Pearson said, her voice warm yet formal. "We've already started our latest project, so you'll need to join an existing group."

As Mrs. Pearson scanned the room, Jenna stood awkwardly beside her, clutching the strap of her backpack. The other students either shook their heads or avoided eye contact when Mrs. Pearson's gaze landed on them. Jenna felt a pang of rejection, a mix of anger and sadness swelling inside her. The whispers in her mind, which were almost always there, grew louder. They overlapped and tangled until one clear voice emerged.

You don't belong here.

Her hands itched with the familiar urge to scratch at her skin, to somehow silence the rising panic. She quickly grabbed her own hand, trying to hold herself together, biting her lip hard enough to ground herself but not enough to break the skin.

"Ah! Mr. Hale," Mrs. Pearson's voice broke through Jenna's spiral. "I'm sure you won't mind working with a partner."

Jenna's eyes followed Mrs. Pearson's gesture to the back of the room where Jasper Hale sat, his pale blonde hair catching the light. His name echoed in her mind, accompanied by a strange calm that settled over her like a blanket.

Jasper.

The voices inside her head quieted as she made her way to the seat next to him. She didn't realize how tense she had been until the whispers faded completely, leaving her alone with her own thoughts. It was an unfamiliar sensation—peaceful, almost eerie in its stillness. She embraced it, afraid it wouldn't last.

Jenna sat down, pulling out her water bottle and medication from her bag. She was about to take her medication when she paused, realizing the voices had vanished. It had been so long since it was just her thoughts in her mind that she almost forgot what they sounded like.

Blinking, she finally noticed Jasper watching her. His honey-coloured eyes, much like his hair, were fixed on her with an intensity that was both unsettling and captivating. Up close, Jenna could see the dark circles under his eyes, making his expression seem even more haunting.

"Uh..." Jenna's voice faltered as she extended a hand, attempting a normal introduction. "I'm Jenna."

"Jasper," he replied, his gaze dropping briefly to her outstretched hand before she pulled it back, embarrassed.