I do NOT own anything but the plot and any unknown characters!!
My father drove me silently to the local airport, with the heater blasting. It was a chilly thirty degrees in Washington, the clouds low, and the rain pouring. This was the weather that I loved; rain, rain, and more rain. Unfortunately, this was the weather that I was leaving behind, for sunny, cloudless days in Indiana.
We lived in the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington, in a small town called Forks. I had lived there with my father since I was two years old. Now I was being sent away to live with my mom, in Indiana, so in other words, I was going to be sent into a living nightmare. My dad tried talking some sense into my mother, trying to convince her that I was just fine here in Forks; my mom on the other hand, was able to convince him that a fourteen year old girl needed a mother. So that's why I ended up on a plane to Indiana, watching my beloved storm clouds disappear.
I spent most of my flight listening to a CD that my dad had given me for Christmas last year. There weren't many people on the plane, so I had my row to myself. The flight didn't take long, and soon I was stepping into my mother's arms. She was surprisingly happy to see me, even though I had been coming to visit her every summer since I was five. The fact that I was staying with her for a while seemed to please her.
The drive to her house seemed to take longer than the flight itself, probably because my mother wouldn't stop babbling on about how excited she was that I was going to be living with her. I tried to act excited too, answering her questions, and telling her about how my father was doing.
"Samantha," she kept saying, "I'm so glad that you are actually here! I thought that I would have to beg your father to let you come!"
My mom was truly ecstatic about my arrival, but she kept calling me Samantha. "Call me Sam, mom." I had to keep reminding her. "I'm glad that I got to come too." I lied, but she didn't seem to notice.
No one called me Samantha anymore; they called me Sam, or Sammy. My dad didn't even call me Samantha; he learned quickly that I was not a girlie girl, after I started solving problems with my fists in second grade. My mother had heard about my anger issues, but she didn't seem to realize that I was a tomboy. In Forks, I only had a few friends, the Cullens, because they were the only people in my class that weren't afraid of me. They learned that the only time that I solved problems by breaking some one's nose, was if they called me short, insulted my family, or threatened me.
When we finally did get to my mom's house, she helped me to get my stuff into my room, and then left me alone to unpack. I was grateful that she chose not to hover, I would much rather be left to myself, so that I could adjust in peace.
My room was nice; it was painted light brown, just like my room at home. There was a full sized bed in one corner, a desk below the one window, and a dresser with a mirror on the wall across from the closet. I didn't have much to unpack, so I was finished pretty quickly. The house was two stories, and my room and bathroom were the only rooms upstairs.
I went to find my mom in the kitchen, talking on the phone. Soon I was able to figure out that she was talking to the local high school, Ernie Pyle High, to see if there was still a space open for me. There was, of course, so I would be starting school there with the rest of the freshmen in September.
"There you are." My mom said as she hung up the phone, "I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to come down and eat." Thankfully, my mom is a much better cook than my dad, so I sat at the small kitchen table, and ate the spaghetti that my mom made.
"Thanks mom." I said as she cleared the table. "Hey, is there a book store around here anywhere? I was thinking that I might get a few books to read before school starts next month." Reading was one of the things that I loved, besides singing, I had always loved to sing.
My mom looked at me for a minute, confused. "Sure Sam, there's a book store on the other side of town. I didn't know that you liked to read."
"Great, can we go down there tomorrow?" I asked, not wanting to sound too persistent. She nodded, and I went up to my new room. I noticed for the first time that there was a new laptop on the desk, so naturally, I went and opened it. There was a note on the keyboard that read:
Samantha,
This is for you, so that you can keep in touch
with your father, and so that you can do your
school work.
Love,
Mom
I put the note on the desk, and turned on the computer. The email was already set up, so all I had to do was type a message to my dad, and then send it. The laptop was much faster than the one that I had at my house in Forks, so it only took a few seconds to send. It was getting late, so I showered, and then hit the sack.
Hours slipped by, and soon it was morning. Sun was streaming through my window, lighting the room. I got up, and dressed myself in jeans, and a tank top. Mom was making eggs and bacon when I got down stairs.
"Good morning Sammy! How do eggs and bacon sound this morning?" She chirped, keeping her eyes on the eggs in front of her.
I smiled, and sat down at the kitchen table. "Sounds great mom." I replied. She is a way better cook than my dad. My breakfast in Forks usually consisted of a bowl of cheerios, and a glass of orange juice. To me, eggs and bacon sounded like a feast.
I took in my surroundings. The house looked as it always had, the kitchen had a dark grey counter top, and white cabinets, there was a small living room that had a couch, and a television, and then down the hall was my mother's bedroom, it was very pink, with lots of delicate laces all over the place. Breakfast was soon ready, and on the table. I helped myself to a large helping of eggs, and poured myself a tall glass of orange juice. My mother did the same, and both of us ate silently. Finally we had both finished, and I was clearing the table.
"Thanks mom, that was really good." I complimented eagerly, and started rinsing off the plates, and stacking them into the dishwasher. "Um… do you mind taking me over to the book store that you told me about last night? I really do want to get something to read."
My mom thought for a second before answering, "Sure, we can go as soon as we finish the dishes here." She smiled, starting to help with the few plates I had left. Since there were only two of us, we had barely any dishes at all.
"Alright, cool. It'll give me a chance to see the town too." I grinned, putting the last plate into the small dish washer. "Just let me go and brush my hair, and teeth."
She nodded, and went to do the same. I could tell that living with her was going to be a breeze. She didn't talk too much, and she could cook a decent meal. Yes, this is going to be easier than I thought it would be. I ran up the stairs, ripped a brush through my long hair, and brushed my teeth quickly. Mom was already down stairs waiting for me, grabbing the keys to her car. We walked out to the driveway, and climbed into her silver Audi coupe. I turned the air on, and sat patiently on our way to the store.
My mom pointed out the high school, and a few other places, like the restaurants that she liked, or the occasional friend's house. It seemed to take forever to get to the other side of town, but we finally made it to a small book store, that had a few too many posters in the windows. We went inside, and then split up; my mom said that she wanted to find a magazine that she had been wanting for a while.
I went to the Young Adults section, and started browsing around for something interesting. When I was about to grab a copy of a book called Betrayed, another hand reached out and grabbed it. I looked up to see a boy that couldn't have been too much older than me.
He smiled, and stuck out a hand. "Michael." He said as I shook his hand.
"Hi, I'm Sam." I replied, grinning back sheepishly. His grip on my hand was strong, but gentle. I released it, and took the other copy of the book.
"Are you new around here?" he asked, suddenly confused, "I don't think we've met."
I nodded while flipping through the pages of the novel. "Yeah, I just moved into my mom's place."
"Oh, that's nice. Are you starting at Ernie Pyle this year then?" he interrogated, trying to figure out more about me. I stopped flipping through the pages of Betrayed, and looked up.
"Right again." I said. "I'm starting my freshman year this September." His eyes brightened, and he smiled again.
"Cool," he said, "so am I. I wonder if we will have any classes together." His smile didn't fade, and he continued to question me. "So, where did you move from?"
I was waiting for some one to ask me that. "The Olympic Peninsula, in Washington. I lived there with my dad." I said, careful not to meet his gaze.
Thankfully, he seemed to know where the Olympic Peninsula was, so I didn't have to explain. "Wow. That must be a big change to get used to. It rains up there a lot, and there's not usually a whole lot of sun, huh?" he hit the description of Forks flawlessly.
I looked up into his eyes, amazed. "It's like you lived there. The sun almost never came out. I loved it." He chuckled quietly, returning my gaze.
"Well, I vacationed in Forks a lot when I was young. My parents liked the weather up there." He said, never taking his eyes off of mine. I must have looked shocked, because he chuckled again.
"Wait, you used to vacation in Forks? That's where I lived. My dad has lived there since he was in high school." I breathed, truly astonished. Michael looked amazed as well, and he led me over to a corner that had a bunch of chairs so that people could sit and read. I sat down slowly, thinking about what was going on.
Michael sat down too, and said, "No kidding. My mom loved it there. She used to say that the storms reminded her of how she met my dad. They actually met at Ernie Pyle, but it was on a stormy day, that looked like tornado weather." He stopped talking, probably so that he wouldn't bore me,
I wasn't bored though. Now that I thought about it, I had a pretty good idea about who his parents were. His description of how they met started to sink in, and I realized that they sounded a lot like my dad's old friends that used to visit him during the summer. "Michael, who are your parents?" I couldn't help but ask.
He looked at me for a minute, and then answered, "Jess and Rob Wilkins. Why?" I sat completely frozen, not believing what I had just heard.
"Was your mom's maiden name Mastriani?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.
"Yeah, but how did you know that? I thought you said that you just moved here." He said, sounding scared.
"Michael, I know you. Your family used to come and visit my dad. We used to have to sit and play while our parents talked about how things were going and things like that." I said, still bewildered.
Apparently, after my short explanation about how I knew him, he remembered. He put his head in his hands, and looked just as surprised as I had when I figured out the strange situation that was going on. "Wow. You're Samantha Brystail?" He asked, still amazed. "This is really crazy. You've changed a lot since the last time I saw you."
I rolled my eyes, "Of course I've changed, so have you. I wouldn't have even known who you where until you said that your parents met at Ernie Pyle. As soon as I had that figured out, I was pretty sure I knew exactly who you were." He seemed to understand what I was saying, and nodded.
Just then, to my horror, my mom walked up. "Sam? Did you find what you were…" she started to ask, until she saw Michael sitting beside me. "Who's this?" She demanded.
Michael stood, and offered his hand towards my mom. "Hi Mrs. Brystail, I'm Michael Wilkins." He said, shaking my mother's hand. Her eyes widened suddenly, and she grew stiff.
"Sam, let's go. Did you find a book?" she said, through her
teeth. When she saw the book in my hand she said, "Good, come on, it's getting late." I watched her stalk away, and then found a pen.
"Give me your hand." I told Michael. He looked at me like I was insane, but he obliged to my command. I took it, and wrote my cell phone number carefully on his palm. "Call me later." I called over my shoulder as I was rushing to catch up to my mom.
I caught up to her in the check out line. "What was your problem back there?" I demanded. "You acted like the guy was a serial killer or something." She glared at me for a few seconds, pondering over whether she was going to answer or not.
Finally, she decided that what she was holding against Michael was important for me to know. "Samantha, that boy is what most people call a Grit. You'll find that in school, people will be separated into groups, the Grits, and the Townies. You are a Townie, because you live in the city. He is a Grit, because he lives in the country." She was trying to explain this thoroughly, but I still didn't understand completely. "Michael's mother was a Townie, but then she went off and married that Grit. You are not allowed to speak to him, do you understand?"
I stood for a minute, dazed. I nodded slowly, meaninglessly, but she seemed to be satisfied for the time being. Michael's parents were my father's very good friends. How did my mom expect me to stay away from a family that I grew up with? It wasn't going to be easy, and the fact that Michael was in my grade, and probably in some of my classes too, didn't help the situation.
Weeks went by, and still I hadn't heard from Michael. School started tomorrow, and so far, I was going insane. My mom had bought this short little skirt for me to wear, but, let's face it… I… do…not…wear…skirts. Instead I threw on an old pair of jeans, and a t-shirt. Of course, my mom complained, said that I couldn't go to school looking like I did, but I ignored her, and, eventually, she seemed to understand that, skirts and me? Yeah, we don't mix.
She drove me to school, and then went to work. When I got to Ernie Pyle, it was already flooded with students. I looked at my schedule one last time, to make sure that I knew where I was going, and then headed towards my first period class. That was when I ran strait into none other than, Michael Wilkins. Really, I just wasn't paying attention, and then wham! I just walked right into him. I stumbled back a few feet, and regained my balance.
As I looked up, Michael had already steadied himself, and was laughing quietly to himself. "Hey, fancy meeting you here." He joked, trying to pull me out of the state of shock that I was currently in.
I looked down at my shoes, and just said plainly, "Yeah, sure." This obviously wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he wasn't about to say that out loud.
"Well…" he started, "What's you're first class?" This was a question that I was well prepared for.
"I have History, in room B-10. You?" I said, hoping in a strange way that that was his first class too. My hopes were apparently right, because when I said this, his eyes brightened just a little bit.
Michael laughed under his breath again, and said, "Well, lady luck has definitely come to see me. I have History too." Why he had to bring "lady luck" into this, I'll never know. He could have just as easily said, "Well, that is my first class too." Or something like that.
I grinned sheepishly, and started walking to the History room again. Michael stayed beside me the whole way, much to my dismay. Every one stared at me like I was insane. Just because I was walking with what they would call a Grit. I just call him, a boy. Who cares what side of town you live on anyway? It just seems like a bunch of racist crap if you ask me. But, of course, no one asked me, so, therefore, no one cared.
We got to B-10 five minutes before the bell rang, and took two seats in the back of the room. Ms Ringellet, the teacher, said that we could sit where ever, as long as we didn't talk. I would have been perfectly happy if Michael sat on the opposite side of the room; he was sort of acting like a stalker. I mean, seriously. He wouldn't leave me alone.
The rest of our class trickled in slowly, sitting in random seats around the classroom. I noticed very quickly that Michael was the hottest guy in the class. Compared to him, every other guy could have been mud. My first thought was, Come on Sam, you can't fall for him! But then, after a few minutes of careful thought, they changed to, Well the guy obviously likes you. Give him a chance Sam, he is the hottest boy in the room after all. I didn't like the thought, but, it made sense. I mean, why else would the guy be following me around.
And following me was exactly what he did. We had every class together, including choir, which was very startling. If I haven't already said this, I love to sing. And, judging by all of the comments that I got in choir that day, I was apparently pretty good at it too. Michael was also an exceedingly good singer. Out of all of the other boys in that class, his voice was certainly the best.
After choir let out, the teacher called both of us to the front of the room. Everyone else had already left for lunch, so it was extremely awkward to be standing in front of the teacher, Mr. Algreen. Soon, the awkward feeling got even worse.
Mr. Algreen had apparently been listening to see who his strong voices were. "Samantha, Michael, you both have superb voices. I would like you to do a duet at our concert this year, if you don't mind." He said, uncomfortably.
Let me tell you, this was not what I wanted to hear. I was being followed by this really hot guy, and now, the choir director wanted us to sing a duet? Together? This was insane. Or at least, that was what I thought. Michael on the other hand, had a completely different view of things.
"Sure Mr. Algreen. I would love to." He said, looking at me the whole time. "What about you Sam, will you do it?"
What was I supposed to say? No way! There is no way that I am singing with you! ? Even though that was what I was thinking, I couldn't say it to his face. Instead I just said, "Sure, I'll do it."
Mr. Algreen seemed very pleased, and started to rummage through some old music that he had stored in plastic boxes. Eventually, he pulled a piece out, and handed a copy of it to each of us. "Here, this will suit you both very well. Let's try it." He said, striding over to the baby grand that was in the small room. He started playing a beautiful song, and then Michael joined in. Soon, I joined them, singing with Michael perfectly.
When the song was over, I realized that I had been crying. I mean, sure, the song was pretty, but crying? Michael dried my tears, to my horror, with his hand, and then handed the music back to Mr. Algreen. "Thank you. It was very good. We can practice again tomorrow, if Sam is up to it." Michael whispered, trying to calm me.
Mr. Algreen nodded, and so did I. I couldn't believe that I had actually been crying. Michael led me to one of the choir chairs, and sat down beside me.
I still couldn't talk, so Michael spoke for me. "What's wrong?" he asked, lifting my chin with the tips of his fingers. When I shook my head, he scowled at me. "What? Do you not want to do this anymore?"
I was afraid that if I nodded, he would think that I was agreeing with him, and if I shook my head he would think that I was saying that I didn't want to do the duet, so I was forced to talk.
"Yes, I do want to do this. It's just that… well, I never really thought of you as a singer. Or me for that matter, but that song it's just so…" he cut me of then, finishing my sentence.
"Perfect?" was his way of describing it. I nodded, agreeing. That song was perfect. And even worse, our voices sounded even better together, than they did apart. That was not going to help the whole, I can't fall in love with a stalker issue. No, it was going to make it much, much worse.
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