Mortality

Adrenaline Rush

I spend my first ten minutes awake just staring at my ceiling, wondering what's so different about today. The light... still gray green, a cloudy day, but something is clearer. I sit up, puzzled, and look out my window. The fog, it's gone. I rush to look out the window and gasp. A fresh layer of snow has blanketed the yard, dusted the top of The Thing. But glancing at the trees transforms my wonder with reality.

On the branches, you can see icicles, transparent daggers that warn you about every puddle on the road. Black ice is going to be everywhere, I'll have to crawl down the road to be sure I don't somehow kill myself.

I consider calling in sick and crawling back to bed.

Charlie leaves before I can finish dressing, shouting a goodbye up the stairs. I wave from the bathroom, still tugging the kinks out of my hair. I grab an oatmeal bar for breakfast, knowing Charlie's rush made cooking completely leave his mind. I'm kinda looking forward to getting to school just for the social interaction, but as I walk to my truck I hesitate. I remember him.

Edward fucking Cullen. The babbling was my fault, I'm not afraid to admit that, but that stupid prick. He barely acknowledges me for a week, randomly shows up at my house, interrogates me, and I'm supposed to just... not be confused by all this?

And what about his eyes? His strange glances, his icy touch, his above-average ability? God, I want nothing more than to avoid him, but I don't have a choice. Every day, I'll sit beside someone who I'm not entirely sure I can even trust. It's enough to make my stomach churn. I swallow the bile and inch down the driveway.

Driving to school, I hyper-focus on the road, grateful that most of Forks' traffic has already gone through to work before I even got up. I distract myself from my idiotic speculations about Edward Cullen by thinking about the reading assignments I still need to get done. The Canterbury Tales occupies my brain for a couple minutes before Edward Cullen flashes back through. Maybe it's the fact I'm new, and it took away a bit of his exotic air. I'm a novelty and he didn't like that. Though because of my newness, I've been able to get a handful of awesome friends.

The Thing travels easily on the black ice, not slipping once. However, because it is a solid metal truck, I still drive like an old man, not wanting to carve a path of mayhem and destruction down the road. At least not on a school day. When I finally get to school, I notice something silvery from the corner of my eyes. I smile, seeing the carefully wrapped chains around the tires. Charlie, it had to be him. I know he'll hate it, but he's getting a massive hug from me when he gets home.

I hop from my truck, rubbing a happy tear from my eye, when I hear something strange. A high-pitched screech, every second making it painfully loud. I look toward the sound, rounding my truck, and realize that I'm about to die.

I see several things simultaneously, adrenaline making everything clear and focused. Edward Cullen standing four cars down from me, staring on in horror, his face standing out from a sea of fear. But of more immediate importance is a dark blue van, tires locked against the brakes, spinning across the parking lot, barreling at my truck.

With me standing in between. I don't even have time to scream. I close my eyes, accepting what comes next.

Just before I hear the crunch of the van breaking my spine in two against the truck bed, something hits me hard, and not from the direction I expected. My head smacks against the blacktop, something solid and cold pinning me to the ground. I lay on the pavement, not really noticing anything other than the van still coming at me, having curled around the end of the Thing.

A low curse makes me realize someone else is here, and the voice is impossible not to recognize. Two bony white hands shoot out protectively in front of me, and the van shudders to a stop not even a foot from my face. The hands fit perfectly into a massive dent in the side of the van. The hands moved so fast they blur. One grips under the van, dragging my body like a rag doll until my legs are right against the wheels of the car beside mine. A loud, metallic groaning pierces my ears and I can see the van settle into place, glass shattering onto the asphalt — exactly where, not even a second earlier, my legs had been.