Old Soul

Chapter Nine: Backstories

After my initial buzz of finally having the mystery of the Cullens solved wears off, I realize that while my feelings for Emmett have definitely grown, I don't know very much about him, or rather, his past. He doesn't know much about mine either, to be fair. This gives me pause. How do I know that he doesn't just find a human to toy around with every so often? After all, immortality is a long time, it must get boring at points. Is this just me being paranoid because of my past? As I think about all of the new questions I have and the new problems that have arisen due to Emmett's revelation, I find myself spiraling deeper and deeper into my thoughts. I'm reflecting so deeply that I completely miss all visual and audio cues from Jessica throwing me the basketball.

The sting of the ball hits my cheek before I can even get my hands up to swat the ball away. As the ball hits the floor I bend over, hands clutching the right side of my face. Coach Clapp comes over to me and Jessica, who is frantically asking if I'm alright and wrapping an arm around me.

"This is why diligence is important, ladies." He says around his whistle. Jessica glares at him.

"It was my fault, she was looking away and I thought she heard me." I glance up at the coach, who appears to be gauging how badly I'm injured and if it warrants a trip to the nurse.

"Go up to the office, Raquel. The nurse can give you some ice to help it from swelling too much. You should change and take your things, class is almost over, anyway." He turns and walks away.

"Just change," Jess says, sympathy in her gaze. "I can take your stuff to your next class, it's on the way to mine anyway."

"Thanks, Jess, but you don't have to do this. It really was my fault, you don't owe me anything."

"I feel so bad. At least let me do this for you." I can tell Jess won't quit until I give in, so I accept. After switching into my pedestrian clothes, I make my way to the office, hoping I won't run into anyone I know. I open the door to the office, and Ms. Cope begins fussing over me, ushering me into the tiny nurse's office. The nurse, an older woman with graying hair, sticks a bookmark into her book and adjusts her glasses as she looks me over.

"What happened?" She asks, gesturing me to sit on the translucent paper covering a brown vinyl examination bed-slash-cot.

"I got hit in the face with a basketball."

"Well, whoever did it's got a very good throw. Was it a boy? I bet he has a crush on you." She says with a grandmotherly smile, handing me a Ziploc bag filled with ice wrapped with the coarse brown paper towels every school seems to have. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her outdated thinking. I take the bag with a 'thank you' and hold it up to my eye.

"You can lay down if you'd like. You can go back to class when you feel ready, okay?" I make a noise of acknowledgement.

I continue to lay there, trying to untangle my jumbled up ball of thoughts. I'm not sure how long I've been there when I hear a commotion in the main office. I sit up, curious, when the nurse's office door flies open, hitting the wall behind it. There stands Emmett, blood pouring down his face. The nurse hops up, stammering about going to get some more bandages. She closes the door behind her. Emmett leans against the wall, dropping his hand the moment the nurse is out of sight.

"Hey, Raquel!" He grins, the red sharply contrasting the alabaster of his skin. The overall result is garish.

"Hi, Emmett. Are you okay?" I ask, wary.

"Oh yeah. This isn't my blood. I don't have any. It isn't even blood. Food coloring."

"You have food coloring on hand?" I shake my head, refocusing. "Why are you here?"