Loch Ness Monster
I believe that every teenage girl feels like a freak at some point on the road to adulthood. I, however, am a real freak. Nessie's story.
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I believe that every teenage girl feels like she is a freak at some point in the road to adulthood. Probably most boys do, too. They think that because one leg is a little longer than another, or they laugh louder than their friends or have an odd shaped forehead that they are a freak.
I, however, am a real freak. In fact, I am a freak to freaks. And the fact that I am extremely pale, maintain an almost totally liquid diet, prefer running to driving my BMW, read at a college level, and keep a close, intimate relationship with my parents has very little to do with it. I'm a very singular individual--the greatest horror to most teenage girls. I'm a hybrid, living in a world of gray, not really fitting in anywhere completely.
Of course, this took some getting used to. I had to learn how to hide one part of my person around certain people. I terrified my Kindergarten teacher on my first day of public school by showing her my family playing baseball. My parents were a little upset, but I explained to them that I was simply answering her inquiry of, "What your families do for fun." Dad home-schooled me for the next few grades until I understood that no one--no one--outside of the family could be touched.
Emmett was helpfully cheerful about it and had taken to calling me "Rogue," which my mother was not pleased with, but I learned to communicate with my words instead of my hands primarily and was able to return back to public school system in time for Junior High. The trouble was, Dad had taught me much more than any of the other kids knew. It blew my mind when I got to school the first day and saw that I was enrolled in Pre-Algebra, when I had already learned Trigonometry.
It would be an understatement to say that I learned quickly. I usually only had to be told things once, and grasped concepts rather painlessly. Dad said I was an absolute pleasure to teach, but then again, he's pretty biased. I'd read hundreds of books--fiction, nonfiction, poetry, drama--anything I could get my hands on. I loved to read, much more than mathematics or science. I took after my mother that way.
I was seventeen now--er, six--but I looked seventeen, and I was in my third year in high school. I often times refer to myself as a freak, but I don't say it in a self-loathing kind of way. I do not loath myself at all. I have a very healthy outlook on life. I am a freak, but I love it.
"Hey, Loch Ness!" Justin Taylor, one of my better friends from school, smiled at me from behind the counter at 7-Eleven. My friends from school all called me that, 'Loch Ness.' None of my gigantic family were at all thrilled with the nickname, but I didn't mind it. Everyone seemed to call me something different. My parents generally stuck to my full name: 'Renesmee'. The rest of my family (with Emmett's exception) preferred 'Nessie' or ‘Nes.’ And Jacob called me 'Carlie', my middle name. I smiled to myself, hearing him say the name in my head. He hadn't started using it until 'Nessie' stuck for everyone else. He wanted to be different. I loved the way he said it, with his strong, husky voice. It was the most calming, reassuring sound in the world.
"Hey, Justin," I came up to the counter and leaned in toward him a little bit. "How's it going?" He was a cute guy with sandy blonde hair, light brown eyes and glasses.
He shrugged, "Slow day. No one wants any Twinkies. It's sad."
I gave a little chuckle, "Damn healthy Americans."
"I blame the biased media," he pointed a finger up with a mock concerned expression.
Still smiling, I drummed by hands on the counter, "Did you start reading Persepolis, yet?"
"Nah," he shook his head. "It has pictures. I refuse to read it."
Persepolis was a graphic novel about a young girl's experience with the Islamic Revolution. It was probably a heart-wrenching story, but I could not seem to get over the idea that I was being patronized by the administration. Most of the kids in our AP English class agreed. Some were boycotting the book. "Don't be uselessly rebellious. Maybe they're just trying to open our minds to something new."
"Comic books aren't new, Loch Ness," he narrowed his eyes.
"They're new to the academic machine, Justin," I pointed to him. "Well, whatever, I'm, like, four pages in, so I guess I shouldn't talk."
"Eh," he shrugged, "You can read it this weekend."
"Well..." I but my lip and ran a hand through my auburn hair.
"Oh, no!" he smiled. "That's right. You have your South American boyfriend visiting this weekend, don't you?"
"He's not my boyfriend," I told him for the millionth time. "But, yes, Nahuel will be visiting the family for a little while."
Nahuel had been a friend of the family since I was really little. He visited sporadically but was always so sweet to me when he did. He was unbearably gorgeous with a smile that made me giggle like a toddler. He was the only other freak amongst freaks beside myself that I'd met, but he was much more self-loathing than I could ever stand to be. However, I could not help but find the brooding a little intriguing. Plus, I had caught him on more than one occasion, staring at me from across a room.
"Carlie," Jacob had to open and close the door slowly so he did not accidentally rip it off it's hinges. He was breathing heavily, but smiling. "There ya are."
"Hey, Jake," I smiled and saw Justin straighten up, uncomfortably. My friends from school were all a little put off by Jake. I guess it wasn't as crazy as it seemed to me. He was almost seven feet tall with muscles for days and a distinct bodyguard type of personality. But to me, he was the kindest person I'd ever known. He was more than just a mere best friend, more than a brother or a boyfriend. It was like he was an extension of me, someone who always understood me, always supported me, always loved me. I felt undeniably blessed to have Jacob in my life. "You wanna grab some crap?" I turned to him.
"Sure, sure," he nodded, then cast a look to Justin that was only slightly more than dismissive, "Hey."
"Hi," Justin barely whispered back and moved away from the counter.
"See ya around, Justin," I smirked to him as Jake moved to my other side and held his arm out for me like an nineteenth century gentleman. I looped my arm through his and leaned into him, utterly comfortable.
We moved into the aisles too slowly, as Jake had a hard time gauging how slow humans found acceptable, and once we were out of Justin's sight, Jake turned to me, realizing my arm, a huge smile on his face, "I got you, little girl."
"I stopped running," I shook my head. "You didn't get anything."
"You didn't say anything about pit stops, Carlie. I caught you, fair and square," he brought his face close to mine, youthfully arrogant.
"Think what you want, pup," I shrugged playfully turning away from him, and he wrapped his arms around my waist and let out the tiniest growl into my ear.
Jacob and I had always been rather 'touchy-feely' with each other. There was nothing romantic or sexual in it, but we always found a way to be close to one another. It was comforting, in a way, especially with me not being able to touch most people I came in contact with.
I put my hand on top of his to send him a picture of Nahuel. "You think he likes Twinkies?"
"Stranger things have happened," he chuckled as we imagined together the South American God devouring the classic American snack food.
"I'm nervous," I whispered.
He shook his head, "You have absolutely no reason to be. Nahuel's nuts about you."
"Liar," I wrinkled my nose at him and continued moving through the aisles, wondering what kind of chip he might eat. Jake and I had been assigned the job of food shopping for Nahuel's visit, as we were the only members of the immediate family who could even consider eating human food.
I had never been all that fond of human food. It wasn't that it tasted horrible, it just was not nearly as good as my other options. Nahuel, though, had been raised on both of them, and, therefore, was more used to solid food options.
"Hey," Jake grabbed two different bags of chips, "You know I'd never lie to you." He smiled, "You know, if it was something really important." I jabbed him gently in the ribs.
"I just don't know what he could possibly see in me besides this crazy spaz who used to be kind of interesting when it was a miracle she could read Dr. Seuss," I handed him a box of cookies.
"Hey now, you never read Dr. Seuss. You could not be bothered with Dr. Seuss. You read Tennyson and Hemingway. You had a more impressive vocabulary than me," he shrugged. "Not that that's changed--"
"Jake?" I smirked at him. "Kind of not the point?"
"Right, the point," he smiled and picked up two bottles of soda, his arms starting to look a little full. "The point is that you are brilliant and stunning and funny and kind, and any guy would be lucky to have you."
"Thanks, Jake," I sighed. "You think we have enough?"
He thought for a moment, before grabbing a bag of pretzels and Fritos, then smiled at me, "We do now."
I paid for the stuff with my credit card, which Justin would have mocked if Jacob had not been there. My friends seemed to find it endlessly hilarious that my family was rich. None of them had ever been to our palatial mansion, and I had a habit of shopping at thrift stores, which made Alice cringe, so I guess they forgot I had money. I signed my name on the receipt and took our bags.
“See ya, Justin,” I threw over my shoulder as Jacob took my arm and led me out of the store.
“See ya,” I heard him call. “Have fun!”
Jacob held me close and lead me casually behind the store. “So that’s Justin?” he said the name like it was some kind of fatal illness.
“Jake,” I smiled. “You’ve met him at least a dozen times.”
He rolled his eyes, “But never in the context of your potential prom date.”
I groaned. We were half through my Junior year, which meant tickets for Junior Prom would be going on sale soon, which meant my family was eagerly asking who I would be bringing. I had given them Justin’s name as a mere possibility.
“Don’t give me that face. Prom’s a big deal, Carlie,” he stopped walking and gave me back my arm. We were totally hidden behind the store.
“It’s not,” I shook my head. “It’s a ridiculous, unnecessary formal designed to further the stigma that those with money and beauty are more worthwhile people than those without. It’s terrible.” I didn’t really realize I was pacing until he reached out and stopped me with a smile on his face.
“I swear, you get more and more like your mother everyday,” he chuckled.
“Ugh!” I pushed his hands off me, “You sound like Dad.”
“Hey, when he’s right; he’s right,” he shrugged.
“Uh huh; will you hurry up and take your clothes off already? I could be home by now,” I crossed my arms over my chest.
He laughed, “Sure you could, bite size. Now, turn around. You don’t get a free show.”
I rolled my eyes and turned around. Behind the 7-Eleven was a huge forest in which Jake and I were accustomed to hunting. It was a short run back to the house.
He nudged my back with his nose once he had phased, and I turned around. I was very used to seeing Jake in wolf form. Sometimes he stayed that way for days at a time if he needed to be in contact with the pack.
I gave him a quick pat on the muzzle, then bent down to pick up his clothes with my free hand. He knelt down, and I climbed on, gripping his russet fur lightly.
I shook my head, “Someone’s gonna need to groom you, Jacob. You’re mangy.” He threw his head up and barked, defiantly cocky. I laughed, and began running my hands through his fur, combing it as best as I could. “C’mon, let’s get home. We’ve got half-breeds to impress.” He made a sound of approval and took off running through the woods.
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