01 - the new girl
My eyes twitch as Jay tries to do my eyeliner in the parking lot of the High School, sitting on the back of my old Bronco.
"Stop jerking!" She hisses as our other friend, Teresa, joins us in the parking lot.
"I can't help it! It's natural instinct to twitch when something is close to the eye." I remark in return as Teresa chuckles at the bicker that always happened when I asked Jay to do my eyeliner.
"I'm gonna stop it midway and make you walk around school looking like a weirdo if you don't stop." She insists, as an engine sputters and booms near us, causing her to jerk and stab me in the eye.
"Jesus, Jay!" I shriek, hand over my eye as Teresa continues to laugh at us.
"It's not my fault! I thought a goddamn bomb went off!" She whips a glare at the truck whose engine was struggling. An old, red Chevy, that I had never seen before in the High School parking lot, was the culprit of the noise. The driver, also unfamiliar to me, gets out completely of the cab, embarrassed as other people in the parking lot stare.
"Who even is that?" I ask as Jay snaps back around to me and continues prodding at my eyelid.
"I heard Chief Swan's daughter was moving back. Maybe it's her." Teresa says, finally moving past her laughter.
"What's her name? Annabella? Gabriella?" I ask, now remembering the news.
"Isabella." Teresa corrects me as Jay finally finishes torturing my eyes.
"Learn to do your own eyeliner," Jay complains, throwing the pencil in her backpack before shrugging it over her shoulder.
"Learn not to stab me!" I respond, jumping down onto the concrete and closing the back of my SUV.
"Jesus women, calm down."
"Glad you find it funny, Tess." Jay huffs at her as we begin our way out of the parking lot to the building, dodging bad drivers like Rosalie Hale, who is always speeding.
"I'm surprised she hasn't killed someone," I mutter as we pass her now-parked car.
"Honestly." Jay agrees. "There goes Eric, swooping in on the new girl like a bird of prey."
"Someone should help her out, besides Eric," Teresa comments as we reach her and Jay's locker. In a small school like ours, it was common to be locker neighbors with your friends.
"Sounds like you volunteered yourself, Teresa." I laugh as she shoves stuff around her locker.
"Fine. I will." She slams the locker, spins on her heel, and forces her way into Eric and Isabella Swan's conversation. Her mom always insists she could be a TV personality with her behavior, although her dad argues politician.
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𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞 / 𝐈.
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