Senses

Ch. 2

I started at Forks High School on a Friday. Lucky for me, because I got an entire weekend to cope with the horrors I would encounter on my first day as the new kid. Everyone here has probably known everyone else since kindergarten, I thought as I pulled into the parking lot. Some jerk was pointing and laughing at my truck. He was leaning against a rusted, pewter, 1991 Pontiac Sunbird. I grabbed my bag and shoved my door open, climbing out and slamming it hard enough that the vehicle rocked slightly. He and his group of idiots brayed like donkeys. "Ya know what? That piece of shit you're drivin' don't look any better!" I yelled. That shut them up. With a satisfied smirk, I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked to the office. My dark sienna hair was pulled into a simple braid with my bangs hanging over my left eye. My glasses were perched on top of my head First day of school and I lose my contacts; way to go Tamara! and I had chosen a wine-colored, scoop-neck sweater that came down mid-thigh, a pair of simple black leggings, and my black ballet flats. I had dressed with the idea of making an impression, but I knew I wasn't quite at head-turning status. So why was everyone I passed staring at me? Then it dawned on me: new kid equals shiny new toy. I rolled my eyes as I entered the office.

The secretary looked up and grinned. Miss Kelly's daughter, everybody in this one-stop town would know that by now. I had been planning to come up here for weeks now, so I'm sure the gossip and rumors about me had plenty of time to spread. She handed me a schedule and a map of the school. My teachers were supposed to sign a paper that I had to bring back in at the end of the day. Funny, I had never heard of schools doing that. Oh well. I took the papers and mustered my most enthusiastic smile before marching dutifully to my first class. "Today will be a great day, today will be a great day," I chanted softly like a mantra. "Hey!" someone yelled. Maybe they aren't talking to me, I thought, glancing around. No one else was near me. Damn. "You're- uh, you're Tamara aren't you?" a boy asked. He was in a button down, khakis, and a sweater vest, looking like a stereotypical geek. "All day, every day, since I was born," I responded dryly as I kept walking. "Tammy. Tams...Ma-ra, Tee," he chuckled. "So...how are you liking Forks so far?" I gave a polite smile as I neared the door to my class. "I've lived through hurricane season in Florida; this isn't so bad compared to that. And it's Tamara. Just Tamara," I said, swinging open the door and ducking inside. He just followed me into the room. Crapcrapcrap! I mentally screamed. I handed the slip to my teacher who signed it and handed it back.

"I'm Eric, by the way," the annoying boy whispered as I walked to an empty seat. Just my luck, it was next to him. I pulled my glasses down from on top of my head so I could read what was being written on the board. Poetry, my favorite. Poe, Dickinson, Frost, Hughes, I knew them all by heart. I couldn't help but grin as the teacher wrote the names of some of their works on the board in his wide, sloppy handwriting. This lesson would be a breeze. Instead of paying attention, I pulled out my personal copy of Antony and Cleopatra by William Shakespeare. I didn't so much as glance up when the bell rang. "Maybe we'll have another class together or something," Eric said hopefully. I uttered a convincingly enthusiastic response as I stood and walked off to my next class: trig. Please let this teacher allow me to just sit in the back with my mouth shut and read, I silently prayed. Thank God, my prayers were answered! The teacher, Mr. Varner, looked just as unenthusiastic about today as I felt. He took my paper and signed it, handing it back before going to his own desk. He flicked on the projector and went through what had to be the most uninteresting slideshow ever. Still, my book stayed in front of my face. I did not get so lucky in economics.

The teacher, who spoke in grunts and unintelligible mumbling, made me stand in front of the class to introduce myself. Then, the cretin took my book away! I simply pouted and pretended to pay attention as I counted down the minutes until I could snatch my book from his desk and run to my next class. And, when the bell rang, I did exactly that. Well, more like I grabbed my book cautiously and power walked to Spanish. The teacher was a large woman; I was already convinced she was an Amazon. I didn't need to pay attention; the class was an easy A, as I was already fluent in the language. I was followed to lunch by a girl whose name I did not care to memorize. She sat beside me in Spanish, and she talked enough for the both of us. I kept walking as she tried to introduce me to her friends, only stopping once I reached an empty table. I threw my bag down and hurried to the lunch line. Eric stood behind me in line with some of the girl's friends-- Jessica, that's her name! Jessica stood next to a small girl with black hair and a tall blonde and continued to plead with me; I politely declined the offer to sit at her table, using my unfinished book as excuse for my desire to be alone. I paid for my food and returned to my table. Picking at the poor excuse of a burger, I decided to people watch. That's when I saw them.