Because the World Needs to Read My Twilight FanFic

It was raining. In my heart. Also outside. The windshield wipers on my old (but in a charming, not an ew gross sort of way) truck kept time with the beating of my heart. Which was slow. Slower than yours. I sighed.

I pulled into the parking lot of my new high school, and looked at the faces of all the students streaming into class. Their happy faces smiling brightly even as the weather was so, so dark. In my heart. Also outside.

I stepped out of my truck and walked slowly into the administration building. I didn’t use an umbrella. I wanted to feel the water. Like actually feel it. On my long, dark hair which always looked wet anyway. I had been told. I didn’t know what to believe.

The secretary behind the desk was plump and jovial, wearing some ostentatious floral pattern which couldn’t hide the pain in her eyes. “Oh, hi hon,” she said, patronizingly. “Who are you, now? Are you our new girl?”

“I guess that’s me,” I sighed, blinking back tears. “Bella Duck. Here for my first day of school. I just moved here from someplace warm. I didn’t fit in there. Either.”

“Well, you’re gonna wanna be running along to room 601. If you need help finding it, just ask anybody. Everyone here’s real nice.”

I’m sure. I’m so sure they were nice. But I knew I could find it on my own. It took me like half an hour, but I did find it. I did. I was late.

Wasn’t I always?

My first class was chemistry. Or maybe physics. I don’t like science. Not enough feeling in it. I sat at an empty lab station and listened to the teacher’s quiet droning try to pierce the veil of my ennui. As ever, she was unsuccessful. Like everyone. Would always be. 

That’s when I saw him. Him. Him. The single most beautiful creature I had ever seen. He was beautiful. He was pale like milk. His eyes were dark like the sky on a moonless night. And his hair did that thing where it was short all over and then sort of randomly spiky and then stuck up in the front.

“Hey,” I heard a pleasant voice say next to me. “Are you new here?”

I turned to look at the face behind the voice. I was disgusted. “Why?” I sighed (I don’t really say, I just sigh. They sound similar when you say them aloud, but feel so much different to actually say.)

“Oh, I just don’t remember seeing you,” said the totally put-together, regular, well-adjusted person speaking to me. “My name’s Matt. Do you want to be lab partners?”

I turned and stared at that lovely creature on the other side of the room. I sighed, I think. Twice.

“Um, hey… I don’t mean to overstep, as we just met, but you might want to consider staying away from that guy.”

I spun with rage to face this so-called Matt. “WHAT DO YOU CARE?” I shouted. Nobody even looked at me.

“Well…” he said, trying his best to soften the blow. “That guy’s name is Morculent, or something. He only hangs out with his siblings, all of whom look like that. So they’re either white supremacists, or they’re vampires. Like legitimately vampires who will kill you and turn you into one of their kind. Either way, that guy is a jerk. I offered him an invitation to a party one time and he set it on fire. While I was still holding it out to him. He hates women. Actually, he just hates people. All people. And I’m a perfectly sane, nice guy who thinks you’re pretty and will be legitimately interested in things you tell me and will want to spend time with you and will actually help you with your homework when we have “homework dates” because I think that being a well-rounded person is important and even if what we have between us doesn’t blossom into anything like romance you will have, on your first day of school, met somebody who is likely to be a very good friend to you and who will treat you with a modicum of respect and…”

I turned to stare at Morculent as Paul or whatever his name was droned on. Morculent stared back at me. I felt my heart quicken. I stared at him. He stared at me.

I stared.

He stared.

We stared.

There was only one thought in my mind at that moment. All else disappeared immediately.

“How,” I thought, “Many books do you think I could get out of this?”