The Girl With The Glasses
Bella Swan has had a hard life. At 17, she's had to go through her mother dying and moving to Forks where she's known as the nerd with not even one friend. The only thing that keeps her going every day is her art. It's a form of therapy for Bella. So when Edward Cullen steps into her life and tries to befriend her, she doesn't know what to do. Luckily, the one person she trusts the most is there to guide her in the right direction, and helps her find a true friend. AH. **Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight**
1. First Steps
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1396 Review this Chapter
The Girl With The Glasses
I woke up with dread settling in my stomach. Here starts another day of getting ridiculed and tortured at the hell pit I call school.
I took a quick shower and put on a pair of jeans and an old Yale sweatshirt my mom got for me the year she died. She knew it was my dream to get into Yale. I think I’ll fit in there, maybe make some friends for once in my life.
I’d always been known as the nerd in school. The geek. The loser. The freak. It’s all a buzzing in my ears now.
People stereotype. It’s like just because I happen to wear glasses and actually give a damn about school (unlike the burnouts and airheads), I’m a loser and a freak. So I don’t make friends easily. Don’t you think at least one person would come up and try to get to know me? Nope, I’m like a contagious bacteria. I’ll infect anybody within a 5 mile radius of me.
High school bites.
It’s now lunch and so far all that’s happened to me is this: I’ve gotten my books knocked over by stupid jocks that think it’s just hilarious. I’ve gotten rotten gym socks put into my locker that stunk up the whole hallway. And I’ve gotten bunched up papers flying at me during my World History speech. Of course the teacher couldn’t give the whole classroom detention, so the idiots got away with it.
A new personal best.
Now it’s lunchtime, which in my mind used to be the worst time of the day. Since Forks is so tiny, we can fit everybody in the cafeteria, which means no open-campus. Which means I can’t escape the name-calling and pranks for thirty minutes. Which really, really, sucks.
I grab my brown paper bag with my lunch in it and head to the art room. Usually, I can be alone, but there is an occasional wanderer that makes it into the room and teases me until the bell rings. But like I said, that’s rare, which is a very good thing.
Art is the only thing that kept me going once my mom died and I was forced to move to Forks to live with my dad. Now, I love my dad and all, but he picked a really crappy town to live in. It rains all the time and there can’t be more than 2,000 people living here. I needed an escape from life. I tried music, I tried computers (naturally). I’ve tried writing, and I even went as far as going to a shrink. Nothing.
Then I walked past the art room on my way to get a drink, and I saw these students having so much fun painting and sculpting. I just stared at the room so full of life, and didn’t move until some girl who thinks she knows it all called me a creep.
I went to the art teacher, Mr. Riley, the next day and asked if I could sign up for his art class 7th period in substitution for my study hall. He told me there were no available spots, but that I could come in at lunch and do whatever I wanted to.
I think he knew about the other students picking on me and felt bad for me. Either that or he’s just really cool, because no other teacher would have done that. As long as they’re getting paid, they could care less.
And I’ve been coming here for the past six months. It turns out Mr. Riley is really cool. He’s in his late 20’s and knows pretty much everything about art. He helps me a lot when I’m stuck on what to do, and he makes for a good conversation. So lunch doesn’t suck anymore.
Today I’m working on a painting. Well, trying to. I say hi to Mr. Riley who’s sitting at his desk reading the newspaper, and go to sit on my stool in the front corner of the room. Mr. Riley doesn’t let any other student use this easel but me, and that makes me feel special. I take out my bologna and cheese sandwich while trying to think of something to paint. I sit there, eating and staring at my blank canvas for the longest time before finally sighing in defeat.
"What’s going down, Bella?" Mr. Riley asked me.
"I can’t think of anything to paint. I’m stuck," I admitted.
"Think of something that’s important to you. Go with that. Paint something you know."
So I did.
"Come on baby, come to mommy!" She held out her hands in encouragement. I giggled and slowly let go of my daddy’s hands. I waddled towards my mom, but fell a little over halfway to her. She laughed and came to pick me up. "That’s okay, sweetie, maybe next time." She kissed my chubby cheeks and I gave her a gummy grin in return.
"Let’s go find you some dinner." I squealed at the thought of food. She put me in my highchair and I slapped the tray excitedly. "Hmm, how about some pancakes? Does that sound good baby girl?"
"Yes, silly girl," she smiled at me. "That’s me."
I thought this day was going rather well. I thought I would get away with the harmless things the bullies threw at me today.
Things are never that easy. I should know that the best.
I was at my locker getting my things so I could go home when it happened. I felt something hit my butt so I turned around and saw Jacob Black smirking at me. He just slapped my ass.
"Hey nerd. I was just dropping by to give you my homework. A five page essay due tomorrow." He holds out a sheet of paper. "Thanks loser."
I may take the physical things, but I will not be used. Especially not by the quarterback of the school’s football team who thinks he can pass school as easily as he can pass the football.
"No," I say calmly. I turn back to my locker and proceed to get my books.
"What did you say?" He was getting angry.
"I said no. I refuse to do your homework."
It all happened so fast. The next thing I know he’s got his hands on my arms and I’m up against my locker. His face is so close to mine, and I actually fear for my life in that moment. I felt tears forming in my eyes and that made me frustrated. These jerks shouldn’t make me cry, they aren’t worth it.
"Listen, bitch. You can refuse to do my homework all you want, but there will be consequences." He let me go and I subconsciously sank against the lockers. There was a crowd around us now; Jake had attracted quite a crowd. "Edward over there," he points to the hottest guy ever, Edward Cullen, "Is looking for a new toy. Remember that."
I meet Edward’s gaze, and for a moment I thought I saw sorrow in his eyes. But then his gaze turned hard again and he looked away from me.
It’s raining as I make my way down the streets of Forks in my beat-up red truck, but I hardly notice. I’m trying to make it home in one piece; trying not to break down crying.
How can people be so cruel? Why would somebody intentionally hurt someone else? They have no compassion towards others. Clearly they haven’t had anything bad happen to them, or they wouldn’t do the things they do.
I made it home and up to my room before falling onto my bed in tears. I curled into a ball and sobbed. Those stupid kids will never know pain as bad as I have. They don’t know that I’m a real human being, and that the things they do to me hurt.
"I need you, mom," I sob, tears coating my face nicely. I take the picture of her and I on my 16th birthday from the nightstand and hold it close to my chest, praying it will help heal the pain in my chest.
"Why did you have to leave me?" I whimper, closing my eyes and holding the picture tightly.
I’m sorry baby. I love you. Stay strong, for me.