Pinned but Fluttering

Chapter 9

My apologies for the lateness of this chapter. Between houseguests, midterms and essays to grade, an online class I'm teaching that's taking a great deal of my time, and the nastiest cold I've had in the past decade <hack, hack, blow, blow, sniffle, sniffle> , all forces were against me.

But the good news: two Cullens appear in this chapter...along with a few other characters you'll recognize. I hope you'll find it worth your wait.  

ENJOY!!!!!!

Chapter 9

As we backed up then drove toward the highway to Forks, Mrs. Jane pulled a brown paper bag from her tote bag nestled between our seats and handed it to me.

“I was afraid they wouldn't bother to feed you this morning,” she said softly, kindly not looking at me. “It's just a bagel with cream cheese and a banana, but it's breakfast. There's some juice in there, too.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, blushing and even more grateful that she wasn't looking at me with that kind, almost pitying expression that always embarrassed me.

Hungry, I removed the food and juice box from the bag and began wolfing it down. Occasionally I noticed Mrs. Jane glance at me from the corner of her eye with a little consternation, obviously worrying that I wasn't being fed properly.

She was right, of course, but I was too damn proud to admit it, despite my appetite giving me away this morning.

I nearly groaned with pleasure as I devoured the food—the bagel was still warm after being toasted, slathered with a thick layer of cream cheese and strawberry jam. Although in a box appropriate for little kids, the apple juice was cold and sweet and very welcome.

It was undoubtedly the best breakfast I had eaten in years.

When I was finished, I tried to be surreptitious about licking the extra cream cheese and jam from the aluminum foil wrapper and from my fingers. But I doubt Mrs. Jane was fooled.

If anyone had “mom instincts” for missing nothing, it was this tiny woman.

I was enjoying the food so much that the miles slipped by quickly, and before I knew it, Mrs. Jane had pulled up in front of Forks High. Gulping down the last of the juice through its miniscule straw, I leaned forward to scoop up the backpack.

“Bella,” Mrs. Jane said, turning in her seat to face me. “I put a five-subject binder inside the backpack. Purple.” She grinned at me before continuing, “You'll find pencils and pens in the smallest zippered pouch.”

Then her expression became serious. “Now, did the Blacks give you lunch money for today?”

Suppressing a disdainful snort, I shook my head in the negative, gripping the backpack to me like a life preserver.

“I'll set you up on the free lunch program today. The school will have you on the books for tomorrow,” Mrs. Jane assured me. “Just stop by Mrs. Cope's desk to pick up your punch card tomorrow and the first day of each month. And,” she glared through the windshield, ”because I seriously doubted that the Blacks would provide you with lunch money, you'll find a few dollars along with the writing instruments in the front pocket.”

Totally tearing up with her thoughtfulness, I leaned forward and impulsively did something I hadn't done in over a year: I hugged someone, namely Mrs. Jane. It had been over a year since I had dared to embrace Jacob, and before that years since I had hugged his mom. “Thank you,” I managed to choke out.