twilight☽ - g.d

s c h o o l ⚕︎

〈ᴛᴡɪʟɪɢʜᴛ〉

⌈

Breakfast with Patrick was a quiet event, as to be expected. He had wished me good luck for my first day, I thanked him, knowing his hope was wasted.

Good luck tends to avoid me.

Patrick left first, off to the police station that replaced his wife and family.

I sat on one of the three un-matching chairs, surrounding an old oak square table and examined the small kitchen. Nothing had changed. It had the same dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Eighteen years ago, my mother had painted those cabinets in an attempt to bring some light into the house.

Over the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized living room, there was a row of photos. First a wedding picture of my Mother and Patrick, then one of the three of us at the hospital after I was born, followed by the procession of my school pictures up to last years. I have to convince him to put them away, or at least in an other room.

It was impossible to be in this house, let alone live in it without noticing that Patrick had never gotten over my mom. It made me upset as well as uncomfortable. He's holding onto something that was something but now nothing.

--

I didn't want to be too early for school, but I couldn't stay in this house anymore.

I couldn't pause to admire my truck as I would've liked to, as it was pouring down with rain, no surprise there.

Inside the truck, it was cosy and warmer. It had been cleaned up but the faded smell of gasoline, peppermint and cigarettes still lingered.

The engine started quickly, lucky for me, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. You would expect a car as old as this truck to have a flaw.

The vintage radio worked, a plus that I hadn't expected.

--

It was easy to find the school, like most, it was just off the highway.

Although it wasn't obvious that it was a school; the sign which declared it to be the Forks High School, made me stop.

I pulled into what seemed like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-coloured bricks. There were also several trees and shrubs surrounding them.

Where was the sense of institution? The chain-link fences, the metal detectors?

I parked in front of what looked like the office due to the ramp, amount of windows and the sign stating front office.

I was sure it was off-limits to park here, as it was like a ghost town.

I decided I would get directions instead of circling around the school like an idiot.

Unwillingly, I stepped out of the toasty truck and started to soak my shoes whilst walking in the puddles and towards the ramp.

Inside the office, it was blindingly brightly lit, and warmer than I'd hoped. It was small and cosy, like every single building or room in this town.

The padded folding chairs in the little waiting area were empty, the walls were cluttered of awards and notices.

The room had split in half by a long, dark chestnut counter containing three desks.

Behind one of those desks, a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses, sat. She was wearing a bright purple t-shirt, already making me feel underdressed.

She immediately had looked up as she heard the bell from the door as I walked in.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm Billie Eilish"

All of my life I have stuck behind the name Eilish. I didn't like the sound of Billie O'Connell or even worse, Billie Baird.

I instead use one of my middle names.

Billie Eilish Pirate Baird O'Connell, being my full name.

"Of course" she said after I saw the immediate awareness light her eyes.

I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last.

She dug through a precariously stacked file of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for.

"Here's your schedule and a map of the school." she brought several sheets of paper on top of the desk to show me. She highlighted where my classes were and the best route to each one.

She also gave me a slip which every teacher had to sign and then I would have to bring it back at the end of the day.

As I was about to leave, she gave me a hopeful smile.

Like Patrick, hopeful that I would like it here in Folks.

I tried my best to smile back as convincingly as I could.

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a/n; i n e e d s l e e p

not edited so sorry if you found any grammatical errors :)