Dark Moon

Chapter Three:Stranger (Aza's POV)

    I awoke to loud knocks on my bedroom door. "Wake up Azalee! You need to get ready for school!" I grimaced as Angie's bullhorn voice rang into my ears. I glanced about the room, taking in the horrid pink monstrosity that Angie called a bedroom. Heaving yet another self-pitying sigh, I dug through my duffel until I found a suitable outfit. I dressed hastily.

    I peeked down at myself. I saw a thin body with torn black skinny jeans on, a Nickleback t-shirt, and ragged high tops. I groaned. Okay, not great, but okay. Just then I remembered something. I didn't have supplies or a bag! Shoot, I hope Angie has one for me. As long as it isn't pink. Snorting at myself and my bad luck, I raced to the bathroom carrying my toiletries. I flung the door open and sat everything down on the sink. Before I shut the bathroom door I got a glimpse of Jacob watching me with a dismayed look.

    Hah! I grinned internally to myself. No boy can ever beat a girl to the bathroom. I practically slammed the door shut as I turned to snatch the straightener from it's perch on the toilet. I quickly fixed my hair and put on dark makeup. Apparently it was good I had moved so fast, because the moment I finished Angie was ranting about girls being self-centered and obsessed with their looks.

    I wasn't nearly as obsessed with my looks as her. Maybe she was trying to pass her's off as real? You'd have to be insane to think she was 'real', but boys have been known to be incredibly stupid. Maybe they had fallen for it when she was young, but now, they might vomit if she tries to flirt with them.

    "Azalee, what took you so long? Girls can look good without being pasted in makeup. They look like whores. Not that you do, but some do, and I don't want you lowering yourself to that. Next time make it snappy. Oh, a friend of your bought your supplies with money I gave her. It's by the kitchen door." Whores? Are you kidding me? Everybody wears makeup, she wears makeup! Oh, I give up.

    I sorted through my supplies calmly. Well, it was supposed to look calm. I was actually brimming with anxiety. The typical jitters that everyone feels, the common worries, they were suffocating me. And I had the added stress of being an orphan and being a loner. People (more specifically, high school students) were mean and cruel, especially to strangers. In my opinion, high school is a dog eat dog world, and you have to tread lightly. I took a fortifying breath and stood up, slinging the black (thank God) bag over my shoulder.

    "Um...I am going to go a little early so I can pick up my schedule and stuff from the office. Thanks for the supplies. Seeya." I mumbled. Angie stared, looking as if I had called her a lazy pig, rather than told her I was leaving early. God, she was insufferable. I am not somebody who judges others, but I can't stand her.

    "Okay doll, take this house key. Don't lose it, don't tell others you have it. Have a nice day." She droned.

    "Alright." I muttered. I took the bronze key from her plump palm and slipped it into my pocket. "Adios." With that flat statement, I left. The minute I was out of the house, the tightness in my chest faded, my eyes brightened, and relief soared through my tired soul. I hadn't realized how trapped I felt within their home. The fakeness and heavy atmosphere made you feel as if you were in a cage. It was atrocious. 

    I tromped to Southwestern High, feeling both nervous and excited. I know why I was nervous, but not why I was excited. Whatever. I was probably bonkers from stress.When I arrived in the parking lot, there was around twenty students loitering about, leaning against sleek cars and huge hummers. I hadn't expected so many people to already be here.

    I'll just have to handle the stares, I guess. And that is exactly what I had to do. The moment those students took notice of me, they began to whisper and point at me like I was an ex-con. What they are saying is probably just as mean as what they'd say if a con was here. Teenagers are cruel.

    I went to the office and picked up my schedule from a elderly woman, who had smiled warmly at me and told me not to mind the others. It made me feel better, for some reason. I studied the schedule. First Period: Biology. And biology is where? I pulled the map the lady had given me out of my bag. I had just started to read it when I sensed someone behind me.

    I slewed around. In front of me stood the handsomest man alive. Tall and lean, he stood there gazing at me with expressive obsidian eyes. His hair was the richest black I had ever seen, even darker than my own. His skin was a deep bronze, and looked stunningly smooth. I fought the urge to stroke his arm. I was slightly intimidated by him, though I was definitely attracted. Despite that lean build, wiry but powerful muscle lay under his skin. He was someone everyone knew as a bad boy. You could tell. And he was glaring at me.

    "Can I help you?" I asked, making sure there was a lot of sarcasm. His eyes darkened.

    "You are a stranger." He growled.