Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

Savior

Summary:
Thomas Sydney is a vampire alone, having left the Cullens because of one of Alice's visions. Even he doesn't know what she saw, he just knows that the loner, and didn't belong in a family anyways. But can one girl change that? Who knows. What we do know, though, is that vampires don't mix well with humans... I tried to add the 7th chapter on friday like I promised, but it got rejected...sorry for the wait, this could take a bit since I don't know what's wrong with it...


Notes:
The first chapter may be a bit slow, but I promise the story is going places that make it necessary. Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight world, but until the sequel (if there is one) the characters are mine mine mine all mine. Also - you review me, I'll review you. It's only fair :-)


2. Miss Granior

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1845   Review this Chapter

I glanced up at the sky. It was just my luck; a gap in the clouds was getting closer and closer to the sun. I pulled up the hood of my sweatshirt. It was one of those purple cobra starship ones – paired with my dark skinny jeans and chucks, sure to get me judged and labeled immediately by the cliquey, insolent little girls.

I took a last glance at my schedule, and put my hands into my pocket. I strode towards the Building 4, where my first class – Precalculus – was. My quick pace and the shadows over my face discouraged anybody from trying to walk with me, but it couldn’t stop the eyes of every kid in the school from following my path. In a town with population less than 1,000, one new person seemed like pretty big news.

I sighed, looking around. I was somewhere in building 4, but that was all I knew. Maybe I’d have to ask directions from one of the kids standing by their lockers. How embarrassing.

Just then, two girls – probably seniors - walked by. They were complaining about how hard Algebra II was, and how glad they were that they could give up on math in college. I smiled to myself. I wouldn’t have to ask little kids for help after all – I could just follow these two.

The classroom, like the whole school, was dirty and needed repair. There weren’t even real desks – instead, people were sitting two to a table. I walked up to the teacher. He was balding, but his face looked like it used to be handsome, and what hair still remained was a nice reddish brown. He signed my slip, M. Sanson. Great, my advisor was a math teacher. I walked to an empty table in the back of the classroom, and put my backpack on the other chair.

Mr. Sanson heard the bell ring, and then started to close the door. When it was only a few inches open, a hand appeared in the crack and pushed it the other way. Mr. Sanson sighed, and let it open. A girl with strikingly blue eyes and wavy hair the color of amber, in a messy ponytail, with her bangs left out. She had a classic beauty – few boys would call her as “sexy” – but she was so gorgeous that, paired with her pale skin, I’d think she was a vampire, if it weren’t for those brilliant blue eyes.

Right after noticing her beauty, though, I noticed something less pleasing. Her clothes were excessively preppy – she wore a navy blue sweater over a white oxford shirt, with the cuffs and collar folded over the sweater. A light denim miniskirt over navy tights and metallic gold flats matched a big gold necklace, earrings, and bracelets.

She smiled widely at Mr. Sanson and said, “Matt, I’m not late yet, right, because you hadn’t closed the door all the way!” What a disrespectful girl! Of course she was late. If the teacher weren’t sure to be insufferably boring, I would sympathize with him for having to deal with such and impertinent student.

“Miss Granior, you are definitely late! The bell rang, and you have to be in the classroom before that. Besides, what did I tell you about using my first name?”

“Whoops, sorry Ma—Mr. Sanson. But you won’t give me detention, right? Of course you wouldn’t. Thanks!” She said everything in one breath, and then looked around the classroom. It had filled up, and the seat next to me was the only one not being used. She smiled at me, and I grudgingly moved my backpack. She landed in the seat, and grabbed her textbook out of her backpack.

She leaned forward intently – excited for math? Her skin was gold, and cursive letters were running down her arm: “I don’t know why Becka and Sarah complain so much. This is all so easy! And Matt’s so nice, too.” So she really did like math.

By now I wasn’t paying any attention to Mr. Sanson, and was concentrating on “Miss Granior” entirely. She was probably an arrogant little prep, but she was more interesting than the teacher.

Soon the bell rang, and class was over. I went to English, Chemistry, and Latin, and then it was time for lunch. I bought an apple and filled my cup with water, although I wasn’t planning on actually eating any of it. I just sat alone in the cafeteria, watching the humans stuff themselves. It was lunch like every other for the past century.

But then the usual routine was interrupted. The girl from math slid into the seat across from me. “Hey!” she said. “My name’s Ellie, I was in your math class. You’re Thomas Sydney, right? Didn’t your family just move here? Everybody knows that there’s a new family in town but nobody’s actually met you guys yet.”

“Umm, hi.” I hesitantly said. I knew that most people were curious about me, and most of the girls really wanted to meet me, but the instinctual fear normally kept away any advances. “Yah, I’m Thomas.” Maybe if I kept my answers short, and, admittedly, rude, she would join the others in appreciating my looks from afar. I really wanted her to leave me alone – besides just preferring my own company, I didn’t even have time to get to know somebody. It took me years to warm up to people.

“Well, it’s really nice to finally meet you! I know there are going to be a LOT of town events coming up, will you be there?”

“Probably not.”

She paused for a moment. Maybe she was finally taking the hint.

“Oh, ok…”

Another silence, longer. Her skin was still mainly gold, but lines of orange chagrin were growing and twisting around, the words moving too quickly for me to read what she was thinking. She wanted to say something, though – she looked like she was about to burst.

I waited a little longer – maybe she’d go away? But no, she was still there and still wanted to say something. Exasperated, I sighed, “What.”

“Why? Why aren’t you going to come to the town meetings? Or the Oktoberfest? Not even the – “

“We’re not a very social family.”

“But they’re so much fun! Absolutely everybody is there and a lot of time the highschoolers go off and have our own little party. I mean the town events themselves are kind of boring I guess but who doesn’t like sneaking off to somebody’s home while their parents are occupied and having a party?”

I’d had enough of this. “Look, I don’t care about your little parties or town events or whatever they are. I really can’t think of a worse way that I could spend my nights, okay? So get your preppy, gossipy, judgmental little self away from me. Just leave me alone.”

By the end of this her skin wasn’t even just orange, it was red. She picked up her salad, and through tight lips said, very severely, “Perhaps if you don’t wish to be a part of our town you should move. And I hope you understand how very hypocritical it is to call me judgmental when you obviously have me pinned down as a ‘gossipy prep’ after knowing me for less than an hour. Well, if you know me so well already there’s obviously no point in my staying here.”

With that, she spun around and walked away. She walked over to a crowded table, where she was immediately welcome, and slowly the red dissipated, returning to the brilliant gold.

Finishing up my lunch, I checked my schedule. Next class: U.S. History. When I got to the classroom, though, she was already there. I groaned inwardly.

In History we had real desks, one-person-per-desk, so I didn’t have to worry about her sitting next to me. The teacher, Mrs. Norray, had us debating whether or not the US should have joined WWI. I had a strong opinion – naturally, I couldn’t tell anyone, but I had fought in WWI.

Most of the students were asleep, so it ended up being a debate only between me and, just my luck, Ellie.

Ellie thought that it was the right thing to do. I had to admit, she had a good argument. Perhaps she was more intelligent than I had first assumed. She was joining as a way of saving lives – we had to sacrifice some of our own men, but in the end it would stop the war and end the killing.

I disagreed completely. What about the Policy of Isolation? Joining WWI was not isolation. And America had had nothing to do with the war. It was a problem in Europe and we shouldn’t have stuck our noses into it.

After the class had ended, I sought her out to continue the debate. As much as I initially disliked her, she seemed to be the only sentient creature in the whole school. Bright purple surprise, maybe even confusion, almost completely covered her usual gold, and a few traces of orange - she was still a little upset from lunch.

We kept arguing until I reached the arts building, for painting. She walked away still peeved from lunch, but starting to forgive me.

Painting was pretty boring. Our teacher, Mr. Vanard, had us painting still life. I had painted a bowl of fruit so many times throughout my very long high school career, I might have killed myself. If that were possible.

Ellie was waiting for me outside after class, and we jumped back into the debate. She had come up with some more points during art. We walked to the locker rooms together, but once again had to end the discussion.

The locker room was filled – everybody had sports at the same time. I still wasn’t sure what sport I would pick. I couldn’t play lacrosse or baseball – it would be too hard to hide my superhuman strength. I saw that Ellie was in the group of girls running track, and realized that it would be the easiest to hide my unnatural athleticism in.

We started by running a mile to the town reservoir. Coach Steiner split us into groups according to speed. The runners with mile times of less than five minutes started around the reservoir first. Then runners with times of less than six minutes. Ellie was in this group, so I decided that I might as well be too.

She wasn’t able to talk while running, but she wasn’t annoyed by me any more, just interested. Ellie seemed genuinely nice, but our debate had proved that she could hold her own, and was very smart.

She was running a bit ahead of me. Her foot hit a root, and she started to fall. I rushed to her side and caught her.

She looked at me, then the place where I should have been. Her skin glowed dark purple – confusion.