𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒, emmett cullen

3 - STRANGE ENCOUNTERS ✓

CHAPTER 3 || A SCHEMING PIXIE

BROOKE DIDN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT WAS SO DIFFICULT ABOUT CALLING SOMEONE BY THEIR PREFERRED NAME, Brooke also didn't understand why she hadn't made a tally of how many times Mr. Mason had called her 'Brooklyn' after she'd told him she goes by 'Brooke'. It was becoming laughable and apparently, not to her alone. Edward Cullen was a boy that the entire school whispers about, Brooke could understand why but had also already grown tired of the gossip. His hair was a glossy copper color, slick across his forehead yet naturally neat, his angular and born high cheekbones were set even higher due to the boyish grin that spread across his full lips, his unusual topaz eyes bright with mirth that Brooke wanted nothing more than to smack off of his face. With the thought, Edward pauses. He smothers his mouth with his hand, attempting to conceal his amusement when his eyes flick toward her face, Brooke scowls.

His perfect eyebrows, a darker bronze than his hair, rise upwards in surprise on his forehead for Brooke's aggression before he's nodding his head and looking elsewhere. Just as she manages to silence the Cullen boy whom she'd never spoken to in her life, Mr. Mason calls her name again; her full name.

"Brooklyn, can I ask that you situate yourself next to Mr. Cullen? Turns out that Miss Mallory has decided to show up to class today," While Lauren Mallory insists she doesn't mind sitting beside the smug bronze-haired boy, Brooke collects her belongings and begrudgingly sits at his side. Glaring heatedly at the teacher and his title for her once more when Edward is unable to control the strangely unattractive snort that tumbles from his lips.

"I haven't even spoke to you yet and I can already tell you're an ass," Brooke snaps, her tawny curls swishing in front of her face when Edward's mouth zips closed. When she glances at him next, his irises are a coal ebony, his ivory hand clamped over his mouth as he edges further and further away, eyeing the jacket that she's deserted over the back of her chair; Bella's jacket.
"What now? You look like you've eaten shit," She hisses, her usually kind demeanor simmered out of existence. The door flips open once more and Mr. Mason turns to chide whoever arrived late when he's faced with a pixie-like character and instead, his face brightens and he waves his hand to the chair beside Edward. Brooke can put two and two together and assume they're related.

Her inky hair is spiky though styled to perfection, her tiny figure skips between the desks gracefully with eyes the same shade Edward's were moments before; a liquid gold. The girls smile is broad and glittering as she waves her fingers delicately at Brooke in greeting.

"Hi, I'm Alice," She chirps as she ushers Edward from his seat to steal his place. Brooke eyes the pair, eyebrows furrowing as it seems Alice is distracting her, perhaps even Edward too.

"Brooke,"

"I thought it was Brooklyn?" Alice murmurs, almost beneath her breath with eyebrows knit ever-so-slightly when Edward returns to himself with a deep breath and a huff of laughter in the form of air. Brooke's jaw clenches as she shakes her in head denial.

The class continues on, Literature being the bane of Brooke's existence as she loathes the AP classes her mother had insisted her father get her into; her grades may have said she could've managed but Brooke was slowly regretting every decision she'd ever made. Not only was Brooke very confused as to how Shakespeare had added a metaphor into his writing when the sixteen-year-old is sure that a 'metaphor' didn't exist during the time but Brooke finds herself surrounded by Seniors bar the pair of Cullen's at her side and Lauren Mallory with Eric Yorkie and Angela Webber at the front of the class.

Mr. Mason sets them a task, Brooke spends the first twenty minutes staring at the page before writing her name in the top right-hand corner. Then, she stares a little more.

Alice glances over her shoulder, smiling softly.

"Don't look at me to answer, Romeo and Juliet can kiss my ass." Alice laughs at this, the sound is melodic and causes Brooke to pause for a moment before she too is smiling.

"No, silly, it's just that Mr. Mason is going to be setting a project to reenact a scene from any Shakespearean novel and I was thinking you could join me," Brooke pales, eyeing the girl to see if she's kidding; reenact?
"There may be another option but I know it's a pairs project," Alice chimes as breath returns to Brooke's lungs with the hope for another option before she's eyeing Edward; whom of which is glaring heatedly at the back of his sisters head.

"What about him? He doesn't look too pleased," She snips, Alice shrugs, ignoring the bronze-haired beauty when she smiles stunningly at Brooke.

"We never do projects together, he's much too difficult and doesn't add any input—"

"Because you'll ignore it," Edward mutters but once again, he goes ignored by the pixie-like girl.

"Okay, I guess so,"

★

THE DINER IS A WELCOMED ROUTINE, Charlie Swan being incapable of cooking given his busy schedule at the station and inability to understand his stove. Brooke adores the atmosphere, the familiar faces that seem to recognize the younger Swan and gush over the way both her and Bella had aged in the time since they'd seen them last; more so Bella given that Brooke still attended her fathers every summer and ever other holiday. Cora stops her at the door, hugging her strongly before ushering her to the table that her father and sister have already seated themselves at, her arm wound around Brooke's waist with a wide, pretty, smile. She's astonished by Bella's growth, her simple yet beautiful features causing the woman to beam as Brooke takes a seat.

"The usual, Chief?" Charlie nods his head to Cora's words with a pursed-lipped smile before the woman is jabbing her pencil toward Brooke knowingly.
"I have an idea for you, darling," Cora says, before turning to Bella, appearing moderately stumped before Charlie is ordering his oldest a Garden Burger. Hands shut the light from Brooke's vision when the girl yelps, batting her hand backward at the person when a loud, boisterous yet familiar laugh echoes throughout the Diner.

"Waylon!" Brooke whines, shoving her unofficial uncle as he continues to laugh, ruffling her hair.

"Bella? Remember me?" Waylon muses, warm eyes assessing the older girl as she eyes her father helplessly.
"I played Santa one year," Brooke snorts, earning a tap upside the head from the fisherman before Waylon is sticking his tongue out at the sixteen-year-old.

"Waylon, she hasn't had a Christmas her since she was four," Charlie sighs, shaking his head though his eyes shine with adoration for his friend.

"I bet I made an impression though, didn't I?"

Brooke nods enthusiastically.

"How could you not? Your beard fell on the turkey," Brooke inputs when Waylon clamps his hands on her chair and shakes it playfully. She shrieks when she nearly tips from her chair but is caught by the table. Brooke glares halfheartedly at the grinning man.

"Yeah, butt-crack Santa?" Cora adds when the group begins to laugh, Waylon rolls his eyes fondly before he's being ushered away by Cora and they're being given their meals.

"Don't worry, Bells. Waylon only started coming over a lot after you didn't come Forks too much, it's not awkward for you to not know," Brooke tries to convince with a short smile when her sister is smiling back, throwing a packet of ketchup toward the sixteen-year-old.