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A Pirate's Life For Me

Summary:
Emmett celebrates his favorite holiday... International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Honorable mention in the Nov-Dec Novel Novice Twilight challenge.


Notes:
Giggle.


1. Avast!

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1292   Review this Chapter

Emmett sat perfectly still. He only had one minute until midnight and then it would be the best holiday in the history of the world. He had talked about it for days, and he knew that everyone was getting annoyed. He didn't care, though. They just didn't understand. His entire family said that they were going on a hunting trip, and that he had to stay behind... but he knew better. They were just jealous of him, that was all.

The pure anticipation he felt as the second hand crept closer to the twelve was agonizing. He couldn't move, not yet. Thirty seconds to go.

Everyone in the family thought he was ridiculous. Rosalie thought he was being childish, as did the rest of them, he assumed. Once again, he didn't care. It was his day, and he was going to embrace it whole heartedly. Emmett didn't want them there if they were just going to cramp his style.

Ten seconds, five seconds, one second to go.

“Avast!” Emmett yelled when the clock struck twelve. It was September 19th, International Talk Like a Pirate Day. It was Emmett's most favorite holiday, and he looked forward to it every year. It wasn't everyday that you could talk like a pirate and actually get away with it.

The problem was, there was nobody home. They had all gone on their “hunting trip” without him. He was going to enjoy the day anyway, though. He'd just have to wait a little bit before he could fully embrace his pirate side.

He brushed up on as much pirate jargon as he could while he waited for an appropriate time to leave for school. The hours passed quickly, though, and he soon found himself pulling into the school parking lot. Everyone was staring at him, like usual.

Edward was always saying that they needed to remain inconspicuous. He said that attention was a bad thing, and that they should do all they could to blend in. Emmett, on the other hand, loved attention. The fact that his family was out of town made him the happiest man on earth. There would be no scolding for drawing heaps of wandering eyes on himself.

Emmett got out of the car with a flourish. The girl named Angela Webber looked at him curiously from her place on the sidewalk.

“Ahoy, lass!” boomed Emmett. “I be headed to the very depths of Davy Jones' Locker... Chemistry!” He then muttered unintelligibly, like all true pirates did, and strode towards his class. He saw Angela tremor slightly, and then speed walk away from him.

The bell rang just before he got to his class, so his very grand entrance was not appreciated by his teacher. “Mr. Cullen, please sit down!” she said sternly.

“Shiver me timbers!” bellowed Emmett. “Ye be a salty sea dog!”

The teacher, Mrs. Anderson, looked at Emmett, her mouth wide open. “You do not talk like a pirate in my classroom, do you understand?

“Aye,” answered Emmett as he quickly found his seat and plopped down. Pirates didn't sit down like gentlemen. They really did just plop.

Emmett leaned over to his neighbor, Mike Newton, and muttered, “She be a scurvy wench, eh, lad?”

Mike bit his lip to keep from laughing. Emmett had never talked to him before, and to hear that he had some sort of pirate problem... well, it was almost too much for Mike to take. It was no wonder Emmett never spoke up in class.

“And ye know what else, me hearty?” asked Emmett.

Mike shook his head. If he even opened his mouth he'd end up laughing.

“I ain't an ord'nary pirate. I'm the Cap'n,” growled Emmett. “Don't ye be laughin', either.. Ye'll be keel hauled!”

Mike couldn't hold it in anymore. He laughed louder than he ever had before, meriting a trip to the principal's office courtesy of Mrs. Anderson.

Emmett watched him go. “He be marooned now,” he muttered to himself.

At lunch, Emmett got a call on his cell phone.

“Ahoy?” he answered.

“Hello, you big oaf,” said Rosalie.

“Oh, lass. Yer words cut me like a knife,” groaned Emmett. He was well aware that he was loud enough to be heard by the majority of people in the cafeteria.

“You're pathetic,” laughed Rosalie.

“Arr! Me buxom beauty, I've to ask ye sommat. Wanna shiver me timbers?” asked Emmett. Everyone who heard him turned around and stared. “Avast, ye land lubbers!” he yelled at them. They ripped their eyes from Emmett and fixed them firmly on their lunches.

“Emmett, really?” asked Rosalie incredulously. “Did you really just say that?”

“Aye, lass, aye,” admitted Emmett, shaking his head sadly. He just couldn't deny it any longer... he wanted Rosalie to shiver his timbers.

Rosalie sighed. “I just wanted to tell you that we'll be back tomorrow... Cap'n.”

“Godspeed!” yelled Emmett. He shut his phone and then scowled at every person in the room. If there was one thing that a pirate did all the time, it was scowl... and drink.

During his last class, creative writing, Emmett was told he had to read his short story aloud. He was always against taking a creative writing class. If it wasn't a graduation requirement, he never would have considered it in the first place. But today... today was different.

Emmett stood at the front of the class room, paper in hand. Was he going to read off of the paper? Of course not. It was nothing but a prop. He was going to tell a story unlike any other.

He growled at the class before he began. One of the girls in the front row cringed.

“Now!” he yelled. “Let me spin ye a yarn! Twas a dark, stormy me. I told me crew to gangway or they'd feed th' fish!”

Mr. Hughes stopped Emmett. “Now, Mr. Cullen, do you really think we're getting anything out of this? We cannot even understand you.”

Emmett grumbled. “If ye shan't enjoy the tale, cover yer ears!” he bellowed.

Needless to say, Emmett didn't get a very good grade that day.

After school, Emmett found that he was yearning to talk more pirate talk. He had nowhere to go, nobody to talk to... so he decided to talk to himself.

“Yer a right beauty, y'are!” he'd say while looking at himself in the mirror.

“Shipshape!” he'd yell to no one in particular.

“Arr!” he'd growl.

For hours he kept on, doing nothing but talk like a pirate. He made sure his day was packed to the very brim with scurvy, swashbuckling lingo. He wasn't going to waste a second.

When the clock read 11:59, Emmett started to fret. He sat on the couch, and counted the seconds as they went by. He wasn't ready to give up his favorite holiday yet.

He ended the day with a pirate sea shanty. “Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs.

12:00 flashed the clock. Emmett cleared his throat.

Not a moment later, Rosalie and the rest of the family burst through the door. She sat next to him on the couch. “Emmett, I'm here to shiver your timbers,” she whispered into his ear.

“Woah, Rose. Are you feeling okay? I thought you were keeping with the times, babe. Nobody says shiver me timbers anymore,” said Emmett, looking at Rosalie with complete disbelief. “You're a few centuries too late.”

She glared and stormed upstairs. Jasper took her place. He kicked his feet onto the coffee table and put his arms behind his head. He was the picture of relaxation.

Emmett didn't even notice. He was too busy thinking of what day it was. He reached out and punched Jasper right in the stomach. It was September 20th, National Punch Day.