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Hi, my name is Delanie
Rosen
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 | The Forbidden Fruit Tastes The Sweetest :03: |
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 5 with 1 vote(s)
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| Created: 2009-01-08 23:05:07 |
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A/N- Again, I would like to explain myself.
I'm sorry if this sound unexplainably Twilight-ish. Please remember that this is based off that series, and I'm not entirely that creative enough to imagine all these things on my own. I'm sorry if it sound way too much like Twilight. I'm honestly doing my best to make it my own thoughts, while only alluding to the book.
I know I'll never be able to rewrite Twilight, and I swear I'm not trying. Please, just be patient and understanding with me.
Also, if you haven't already, read chapters 1 and 2.
~~~~
It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. Having slid in with the other similarly clad people from the outdoors, I didn’t stand out. I was hoping that Chandler, being the quiet one of the family, hadn’t heralded my imminent arrival to the school. But I proved to be very wrong. Once my brother had slid through the doors and people recognized him, I immediately felt their eyes slide to me.
By the varied looks on their faces, it seemed that they had already formulated their own opinion of me. I sighed; I forgot how shallow, judgmental, and discriminatory people could be. I kept my head down instead, looking up only when Chandler placed a hand at the small of my back. He pointed down the hallway in front us, where many curious eyes stared back. “Down there is the main office. Just go in and tell them who you are and they should be able to help you out from there.”
I nodded, willing my stiff legs to move. I was surprised by how self-conscious I felt under the scrutinizing eyes of my peers. I’ve never been shy. Of course, I’ve been this far outside my home without someone from security following. I managed to find the office unscathed. I was glad it was so clearly marked, because the rows of lockers, interrupted only by the class room doors was daunting.
I walked in, finally freed from the raucous conversations in the hallway, jazz music discreetly pervading the silence of the office. The secretaries were all behind their appropriate desks, typing away. The student helper looked up from her homework, her blue eyes rimmed in far too much eye liner and her platinum hair obviously from a bottle. “Can I help you?”
“Ummm… I’m a new student.”
One of the secretaries glanced up, peering at me over her spectacles. “Are you the Rosen’s cousin?” I nodded, slowly, noticing how the girl’s eyes lit up. The woman stood, coming over to the counter. “Alyson Greene, correct?” I nodded again. Mumbling to herself, she stumbled over to a file cabinet, going through several drawers and files, though she only pulled out a few pieces of paper.
I looked down to find the girl staring at me. I smiled weakly and murmured, “Hey.”
She nodded her head. “Hey. I’m Hannah Washburn. So… you’re from New York, right?” She leaned forward intently.
At this I sighed. I had this story down. “Yep. Straight out of Manhattan.”
“Woah. So… why are you here then? I mean, in Aspen, with your cousins?”
“My mom and dad are businesspeople. They had some international affairs that was going to take longer than they expected and since they didn’t want me staying home alone, they sent me to live with my cousins for a while,” I explained, without skipping a beat. I’d become quite adept at lying.
“Hmmm…” Hannah leaned back in her chair. “That’s not the story that’s going around here.”
I was about to open my mouth and demand what she meant, but the secretary, identified as Mrs. Groves, hobbled over, spreading out several brightly colored pieces of paper for me. “Alright, Alyson, dear. Here’s a schedule for you. Your cousins tried to match your schedule as close to your previous school’s schedule as possible. Right here is the class number and the amount of time each class period takes.” Setting the bland white sheet aside, she procured another paper, this one a pale blue. She stuck a label on, pointing with her pencil at the various objects. “This is your locker information. This is the hallway number, the number on the combination. In case you need a refresher, this is a diagram on how to work the dial on your locker.” She quickly put that one aside as well. I could tell she was a no nonsense kind of person. “Here’s a map of the school. I’ve highlighted where your classrooms are and drawn arrows to show you the best path to each of your classes. I strongly advise taking the side stairways instead of the main one; it gets less crowded. Finally, have your cousins sign this and get it back to me as soon as possible. Just some final paperwork.”
I accepted the papers she pushed my way, and she smiled. “We hope you’ll enjoy yourself here in Aspen, Alyson.” I nodded, heading back towards the door. Hannah had gone back to her homework.
I felt stupid with the paper shoved in front of my face. But in truth, I’d never had to work a locker, and I was still a bit sketchy as to how the halls and class rooms were numbered. I decided I would spend the morning just getting used to my route and opening my locker.
Finally, after I had managed to avoid the majority of the looks around me, the 2-minute bell rang, and I had to turn around to reach my class on time. I had American Government first period. I smirked at the irony, wiping it blank as I entered the class room. I strode immediately, and as confidently as I could manage, up to the teacher’s desk. He was a tall man with wild eyes, but he grinned kindly enough. “May I help you?”
“I’m a new student. This is Government and you are Mr. Steffin, right?”
He nodded. “Indeed I am. And you are?”
“Alyson Greene.”
“Ah, yes. Alright, well, Alyson,” he walked to a book shelf, grabbing a book and handing it to me. “This is our textbook. I’ll come around and record your number later. There’s a seat right over there in the corner by Marcia. But first, will you introduce yourself to the class?”
I swallowed but nodded anyways. Everyone’s eyes were on me. “Ummm.. hi. I’m Alyson Greene and I’m from New York. I’m staying with my cousins for awhile my parents are away so… great to be here.” I awkwardly took my seat. I sat next to Marcia, as the teacher had suggested.
I was just beginning to think she might be quiet and leave me be when she shyly tapped my arm. “Umm.. I’m sorry. It’s Alyson, right?”
I grinned tiredly. “Yes.”
“I’m Marcia,” she said quietly. “It’s really nice to meet you.” At least someone here was nice. “I’m good friends with your cousin. He’s been really excited for you to come.” So Chandler had been talking about me.
“Oh, well that’s great,” I allowed, trying to focus my attention on the teacher, when I realized I had no idea what we were talking about. “Ummm… hey, Marcia? What chapter are we on?”
She grinned. “Chapter 2. We’re discussing the Constitution.” Good. Something I knew practically by heart.
After class was over, Marcia placed a hand on my arm. “Would you like help finding your next class?” She asked timidly.
I smiled, pleased for the offer. “No thanks. I think I got this covered. But thanks for the thought.”
“No problem. So are you going to sit with Chandler and the rest of us for lunch?”
“Chandler eats lunch with you?” I guess I couldn’t be too surprised. Even though he did look like our dad, he still was a rather handsome young man, and it wasn’t impossible for him to have any female acquaintances. Marcia nodded. “Well, probably. I’ll see you then.”
The rest of the day went fairly well. I had pre-calculus next period, and met two seemingly nice boys named Matthew and Jared, and one rather spiteful girl named Hilary. I passed Marcia in the hallway on the way to my French class, where I was introduced to two more rather hostile girls. What had Chandler been saying about me?
He caught up with me as I was getting out of class. “Hey, Allie,” he greeted, with a sly wink.
I rolled my eyes. “So, I hear you’ve been talking about me? That you were excited for me to come, huh?” He flushed and I smiled. “Thanks, Chan.”
He grumbled and led me to a table, where Marcia and Jared were already seated. We were joined a few moments later by Matthew, Janie (one of the rather nasty girls from French), Ashley (she was sweet, if not loud and boisterous), and three more guys that Chandler introduced as Evan, Galen, and Haydn.
I really tried to keep my attention focused on my food and on my table mates. But I couldn’t sate the burning curiosity to observe the people around me. I was still a shallow enough being to want to know what people thought about me, whether that be negative or positive. I answered questions as they were thrown at me, occasionally glancing around at the people that passed me by.
Some offered friendly smiles, some only curious and confused stares, all of course with a light sprinkling of glares (I recognized Hilary’s shrewd eyes from across the lunch room). I observed the people moving slowly and monotonously through the lunch line, chattering away.
It was then that I saw them. |
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