What if Bella hadn't been a shy, insecure wuss when she came to Forks? What if she had attitude, spunk, and was brave? What if she were Goth? This is yet another of my random musings, where I mess with a character and such. I never really liked Bella (mostly out of jealousy than anything else :D) but I was reading another favorite of mine Vampire Kisses (I highly reccomend it) and thought, what if Bella were more like Raven? And then I got this.
2. Chapter 2
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1641 Review this Chapter
That morning, I woke up with a pounding headache. I hadn’t slept well – for the fifth night in a row – and I kept having nightmares. It was always the same ending, thought they began differently.
In the last one, I had been hurrying through the woods, ignoring the branches that scraped my arms and face as I ran. I was running from something, though I wasn’t sure what, and I could hear leaves crunching as it followed me. At the very end, I tripped over a root or something like that and stared up into the dark eyes of Edward Cullen as he crouched beside me, teeth bared. I woke up screaming.
I got out of bed and stretched, straightening my Jack Skellington pajamas. I drug my feet along the hardwood floor as I made my way to the bathroom, where I went through my morning ritual and shower. I dressed in ripped jeans that my Phoenix friends had drawn all over in colored sharpies and a black Escape the Fate t-shirt, then combed through my hair in the mirror, blow-drying it and pulling it back into two spiky pigtails. For a final touch, I added a skull barrette and my favorite vampire earrings.
Downstairs, Charlie was already seated at the table, where he was munching on bacon and reading the paper. He mumbled a hello around the food in his mouth, but otherwise ignored me as I helped myself to some of the bacon and eggs he’d made for breakfast.
“Someone called for you while you were in the shower,” he said, setting the paper down on the table.
“Who was it?” I asked curiously. I hadn’t made very many friends yet, and I was sure I hadn’t given out my phone number.
“Alice Cullen,” he answered. “Nice girl,” he remarked.
“Oh, yeah? What did she want?”
“Just to let you know that she was going to pick you up for school in about ten minutes.”
“Okay, then.” I was excited, though I hadn’t made plans for her to pick me up.
Sure enough, at seven o’clock sharp, the doorbell rang once, high pitched and shrill. I hurried to get it, and Alice greeted me with a warm smile.
“Hey, Bella,” peering around me, she added, “Good morning, Mr. Swan.”
“Please, call me Charlie.”
What she wore shocked me. Instead of her usual swanky, designer outfit, she wore black Tripp capris with chains and purple seams. Her top was a matching black and purple corset, with a fishnet top layered over it. Her already spiky hair was pulled back into a ponytail that cascaded down to the nape of her neck like a spiky waterfall.
“Like my new outfit?” She asked, noticing my shock. “I loved your style so much that I went looking online at this Goth store. My family was a little freaked out, but they’ll get over it. Rose isn’t talking to me – she thinks I’ve lost it.” She grinned.
I grabbed my bag and, after saying goodbye to Charlie, followed Alice down the driveway and to where her car waited. It was the silver Volvo I’d noticed before in the parking lot, though it still came as a shock to me that Alice was driving it.
“This is your car?” I asked in awe as I sat in the passenger’s seat.
“It’s Edward’s, actually, but no one else is talking to me. We normally all carpool, but they took Rosalie’s car instead.” She shrugged like feuding with her family was no big thing.
“Why aren’t they talking to you? Just because you dress differently now?”
“That’s part of it,” she allowed. “But it’s also because they think I’m telling you dirty secrets about them.” She glanced over at me, grinning once more.
“What’s up with Rosalie, anyways? I mean, seriously. What’s up her ass?”
Alice laughed shortly before answering, “She thinks you’re a loser. I told her off, and so now I’m a loser too. She’s always too conceited anyways; she usually just pisses me off.”
Something she’d said before was just sinking in, and I suddenly changed the subject. “Edward’s back?”
“Yeah, he got back yesterday afternoon. He was up in Alaska, visiting with some of our old friends.”
“How come he went halfway through the week?” I was still trying to get the idea out of my head that he had left because of me – that he wasn’t coming to school because of me.
“I have no idea,” she said honestly. “He’s always been so moody that I don’t even ask anymore.”
We reached the school then – she drove faster than I did – and Alice pulled the Volvo into a spot at the far end of the parking lot. We sat at a picnic table while we waited for the bell to ring – I did some last minute Trig homework while she babbled about some of the other clothes she ordered. Suddenly, we weren’t alone, and I looked up to see Jasper standing behind Alice.
“Can I sit down?” He asked us, though it sounded like it was directed more towards Alice than me. Alice nodded, and he sat beside her, his expression apologetic.
“I’m sorry I got mad before,” he apologized. “You just look so different – I wasn’t used to it. I thought your new clothes were so weird and scary.”
“I like my new clothes,” Alice replied.
“I don’t mind them,” he said, his voice playful. “This is my favorite,” he touched the ribbon that hung from her corset and smiled. “But I think some of the other boys like it too,” he glanced behind him, glaring at someone who had stared at Alice for a little longer than necessary.
They exchanged a kiss, and I looked back at my homework politely. At first I had gotten the wrong impression when I saw them kiss, but Alice had explained everything to me. They weren’t really related, just adopted. Rosalie and Jasper were twins, while the other three hadn’t been related at all.
The bell rang, and I stuffed my books into my bag, following Alice and Jasper into the building.
“See you in art,” Alice said, waving as she went down the hallway, fingers intertwined with Jasper’s. I went to my first class alone, taking my seat in the back of the room.
By fifth period, I was about ready to go home. I’d had to sit through people whispering (though it wasn’t at all quiet) about me, a paper air plane thrown at the back of my head, and being shoved into a locker on the way to third period.
Alice met me at the door, walking with me to our desks and sitting beside me. I told her what had happened, and her best advice was to ignore them.
I sat down in my seat in Biology and slumped over, resting my head on my desk. Today had been miserable, and I feared the interaction with Alice’s brother. Would he glare at me again? I didn’t think I had it in me at that moment to glare back.
I heard the scraping as the chair beside me was pulled back, and the creak as someone sat down. I could smell him beside me – he had a very distinct smell; not bad, or like someone wearing too much Axe, but a natural smell that was sweet and intoxicating. I heard him breathing, but I still did not look up.
“Are you alright?” He startled me by speaking. Ever since I had started on Monday, he hadn’t said a single word to me – even accounting for the fact that he hadn’t been here three out of five days. I looked up, face betraying my shock. “Alice told me what happened.”
“Did she?” Was all I could manage to reply.
“Don’t worry about them – they just don’t understand you.” He sounded like he had experience in the matter.
“I know that,” I replied curtly. No one understood me – especially not Mr. Jerk-face.
There was a pause as we looked at each other as if locked in a trance. His eyebrows came together – rather cutely, though I wasn’t thinking it at the time – and I glared up at him with mixed feelings.
“You know,” he said angrily, “people won’t understand you if you don’t stop being rude to them.”
Anger flared within me, and I felt the sudden need to punch something, which was odd for me.
“You know, people won’t talk to you if you don’t stop irritating them,” I fired back. He looked like he was resisting laughter, and then turned to face the front of the room. I followed suit, and pretended to listen to the moronic, babbling teacher.
Soon enough, class was over, and I began to pack my books back into my bag. I slung the strap over my shoulder as I stood, then prepared to make a dash for the exit – if only I could dash without breaking something (usually a bone or two).
The bell of sweet salvation rang and I hurried for the door. I had just made it to the exit when, lo and behold, Mr. Jerk-face himself caught my arm to stop me.
“Let go,” I growled, yanking my arm free.
“Chill out,” he laughed, holding his hands up. “I just wanted to let you know, you forgot your jacket.” He handed it to me, and waited.
“Thank you,” I said through gritted teeth.