[Rated just to be safe.]
Edit: Before reading:
- I've kind of re-done Jonah to have a horrific skin disease as the result of the vampire change... I sort of overnight got sick of having perfect vamps. Everybody telling me he needs a flaw got to me in my sleep ^__^ Armel doesn't have it, which is explained in the later chapters, I think.
- Kassie is (hopefully) shallower, because she cannot get past the skin to like Jonah, so she likes Armel instead, despite his being in love with 'ugly' Celeste meaning they're so different.
- I'm keeping the cafe scene. I've managed to rework it a little, and really, its the only thing I just don't want to get rid of. So for now it's staying but it might go in the future.
- Celeste is a redhead because I had the creepers about her.
ps. Go wild with the Americanization, I've attempted but I appear to fail when it comes to changing languages.
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ELLEN
I’d completely forgotten about the smell until it hit me in third period Webpage Design. As usual, I sat in the back row furthest from Miss Hale - I’d taken this course since eighth grade but only this year was made marginally better by Gregory and Nathan Brywn. They flanked me either side like two guard dogs because, with their black hair, muscular bodies and incredibly dangerous expressions printed permanently on their faces, it’s what they look like to an outsider like Miss Hale. They kept their inner-softness to themselves.
This was her first year, so we weren’t listening to her as she droned on about copyright and appropriate internet usage, which we all knew about already. She also thought it necessary to brief us on the improved tracking system the computers have installed. Now, unlike the previous years, every computer click was logged. She was just warming herself up about the severity of internet pornography at school when it hit me – the scent that’d plagued the hallways this morning.
At first it was a light breeze introduced by the opening of the door that leads directly onto the outside lawns, but the smell came with it. I closed my eyes and inhaled; the air was thick with it, saturated to molecular combustion, I mused. Gregory tensed when he smelt it, his shoulders heaving up ever so slightly. But his brother relaxed visibly, his own eyes closed when I peered at him curiously. His nostrils opened wide like he was inhaling along with me.
“Oh, hello!” Miss Hale’s heels clicked happily like her voice as she crossed the room. “Aren’t you the new boy from Scotland? Jonah something?”
“Sorry for being so late, but this is my first day, and my schedule is awfully confusing,” he murmured softly in a thick Scottish accent. And yes, I’m Jonah Sparks, thankyou for being the first teacher to know my name!”
“You got lost? Oh you poor thing, please take a seat, you have not missed much dear.”
I surrendered to my desire and pushed away from the desk, swiveling around so I could observe the new student. If he looked as good as he smelt, a scolding would be just fine. But I was unprepared for his reaction – nobody could be prepared for this.
His eyes locked onto mine the second I looked at him. They were an intense coal black, contrasting against the unnaturally pale skin of his face which, was by comparison to any boy in the room, horrifyingly discoloured. Awkward blotches of red curled around his neck and reached up around the right side of his face. He clutched a navy blue binder to his chest, a long, flat black pencil case laying flat on top trapped by the strong hands reaching out over the spine. They, too, were fiercely pale, the thin blue veins rising up to the surface of his skin when he flexed them. They too were blotched with red. I blinked twice and he lowered his gaze to the seat in front, making a clear show of avoiding my gaze as he slid into his seat.
He wore simple, ordinary clothes that wouldn’t draw attention to him in any unwanted form – nothing his skin wouldn’t do. The black jeans were loose yet hugged his waist slightly enough to compliment the soft curve of his hips and their gentle width. A gray long-sleeved shirt buttoned all the way down was tucked into his jeans, the top button undone to reveal a tiny sliver of white skin. A bulky black scarf wrapped around his thick neck three times, concealing the entire length of it, descending across the top of the binder and dropping over the tops of his thumbs. The perfection of his face was framed by short black waves. His lips were full and pulled into the tiniest smile when I blinked again. Just as soon as it was there it was gone, his face slackening, returning to the concentrated stare he cast across the room.
Did he just smile at me? I decided to breathe through my mouth since my nose could not cope, realising my brain was deprived of oxygen enough. But the moment I did my body convulsed and I inhaled sharply through my nose, leaning forward the slightest bit. Michael Hansberry – the hottest boy I had ever met - was a frog compared to this prince.
The boy slid down easily into the front row alone, clicking the button on the front of the bulky computer, a grin flickering across his full lips when the screen flashed to life, joined by a slight groan from the computer component.
“Now, class, your task for today is to browse Google images for different styles of photo editing from altercation of lighting, including backlighting, to addition of flash, compilations of multiple images, framing, cropping, collages, and selective editing. I do not expect you to know them all yet, and I will give you a book tomorrow, but for now you will just have some relaxing fun. Is there a problem, Miss Johnson?”
My eyes dislodged from his perfect face up to Miss Hale’s warm, yet forcefully stern eyes Most of the class, including the handsome boy, were staring at me now.
“No, Miss Hale, not at all,” I stammered, feeling the warm blush creep over my face.
“So why are you still looking at the front when your computer is behind you?”
“Er…”
“Ellen!” Gregory elbowed me a little too hard, my body automatically scrunching toward his brother, who just shrugged.
“Ellen?” It was Miss Hale, and the frustration in her voice was undeserved. Rolling my eyes, I swung my chair back around, ignoring the blood rush the sudden movement triggered, double clicked on the first image under ‘photo manipulation’, and groaned.
It was a huge full-screen shot of twenty women in pink bikinis with calligraphy draped all across them, derogatory remarks dominating. Nathan smirked and Gregory baulked. Before anybody else noticed I closed the webpage, my heart hammering in my chest so loudly it pounded in my ears. A disgruntled snort made me shrink down in my seat.
Hello at last, Hell. I missed you so much!
“Enjoying living my nightmare?” I slid my tray down beside Kassie’s at lunch. She poked her soggy potato around the plastic plate absent-mindedly, tears gleaming on her olive cheeks.
“It’s not fair!” She moaned, dropping her head onto her folded arms. I stroked her back for a minute, then pulled my hand back to scoop my peas into my mouth before they dried and pruned. The last thing I wanted was to be reminded of Machine-Gun Gracey when I was eating something green – it was hard enough stomaching greens without old, wrinkled women flashing through my head. I shuddered automatically. Kassie just groaned again and stamped her foot.
“Don’t be sore, Kassie, ‘It’ll get better’.”
“Shut up!”
“Why? Oh, I feel déjà vu coming on, don’t you?”
“Sure,” she groaned.
“Oh, wait, no, it’s reversed this year. I remember this day for the last four years… what did you say last year? Wait, I think it was ‘don’t worry El, school is meant to suck, so put up with it. It’s only luck some get the good straw. Stick in there and fight the system’.”
“Shut up!”
“Take your own advice, eh Kass? It’ll do you good to get some exercise.”
“Not fat jokes too!”
“No, but you’ll have to ditch the heels.”
“I don’t have any sneakers!” She wailed.
“Borrow mine, I have plenty.”
“Thanks.”
We sat in silence until I’d completed the soggy meal. I stole her lemonade can and gulped it in two mouthfuls.
“Oh, guess who was in my Webpage Design class?”
“Who?”
“Act like you want to know, Kass, I always do!”
“Fine. Who was it?”
“Jonah, the guy from this morning!”
Her head shot up and her hand automatically began stroking her bangs back.
“Seriously? Wow!”
We both turned to gaze at the door when our noses zoned into the scent. Absolutely delicious.
“No way…” we murmured in unison as the boy from this morning sauntered in, his eyes kept low as he moved right to the table near the center of the cafeteria, a handsome man with soft features and shoulder length brown curls following; they both, walked with the ease of angels. Behind him sauntered a chunky redhead, her long, dead-straight hair bouncing lightly on the curve of her pale lower back as she glided toward the tray piles. She was tall, even if she didn’t sport the five-inch heels. But she – while being a redhead – didn’t come across as being wild, if anybody believes in those stereotypes anymore. She had a chunkily proportioned body - thick arms and legs, small chest, roll of baby fat leaning over her belt and a chubby, scowling face with ugly blotches matching the new boy. It looked, from where I sat near the back; a smile had never touched those full lips, though it did when she smirked up at the man who swept a long arm around her waist, gently squeezing her closer to him. Her too-tight midriff top revealed a little too much skin, pale like the man’s, but somehow she wasn’t cringe worthy. She had a soft face with sharp eyes, and while not being overly pretty, she wasn’t ugly either.
They made no noise when they picked up a tray each and filled it with mushy potato. The man put a hand around her shoulders as they completed their migration through the cafeteria to the table in the centre of the room. The boy looked up – I hadn’t even noticed him sitting there, though there he was, centred in the room. Every pair of eyes was trained on them, watching Celeste shuffle close to the bigger man, his wide shoulders hunched forward.. A kind smile lit up his face when she draped her left leg over his right knee; she rested her head on his shoulder, her long hair cascading down his back as well as hers. Unlike the other two his skin was the same tone.
“They’re so pale,” I whispered.
“That big guy is Jonah’s brother, Armel, and his girlfriend Celeste.”
“They look nothing alike.”
“I know! Thank god Armel doesn’t have that horrible skin though.”
”Don’t be mean Kass, I’m sure there’s some sort of explanation.”
“Well, it makes them look infected, so I’m not going to touch them!”
“But what about Armel?”
“How beautiful is he?” She sighed as we both turned to peer over at them.
“Armel is beautiful sure, but he’s got a girlfriend Kass.”
“Dammit I wish he wasn’t with that freak!” She sighed again with a hint of longing in her sugary voice. My head whipped around and I glared at her through slitted eyes.
I heaved a sigh and placed my cheek on my arm. While Kassie never settled with one man exclusively, when somebody had a girlfriend, as the girl so demonstrated seconds after sitting, Kassie was honed in.
“I wonder if their skin is a prerequisite of being in their family,” she mused.
“So Armel can’t be related. He doesn’t have it.” I told her gently.
“I wish I had the guts to speak to him.”
“Yeah, but I wish Jonah would come over here.”
“I wish I could see into his mind.”
“Armel? Why?”
“So I can see if I have a chance.”
“Earth to Kassie – he’s got a girlfriend – of course you have no chance.”
“Girl – friend, Ellen. And when he sees me, he’ll have no choice but to fall head over heels, especially since I have better skin than that freak.”
“You two don’t match then – if he’s dating her then he must see past the outside. Something you are incapable of.”
“Jonah’s probably got a girlfriend from whatever dark place they come from,” she snapped back, unable to hide the acidic tone. She hated being told who she could and could not have.
I frowned, analysing him in a new light. “You’re probably right about the dark place. Did he live under a rock all his life? Seriously get a load of their skin!” My frown deepened when I realised how horrible the words sounded on my tongue. Wasn’t I the one who looked past the outside appearance when it came to boys, not ‘judge the book by its cover’ like Kassie? That thought troubled me.
“It’s freaky,” she agreed.
“Yeah,” I said lamely.
“I wonder if he has…?”
“Get real. The joke is a little old anyway Kassie.”
“Get real? I’m sure he isn’t – nobody is that hideous.”
We moped for a little while, deciding we’d rather sit here staring at him and be depressed than be happy anywhere else. We both had English 3 with Mr Newbill, an Indonesian Diplomat turned teacher as of eight months ago. His knowledge on America was so vast we struggled to remember he’d lived in Indonesia all his life, though he’d travelled more frequently than a gypsy.
His class was the usual: slack off day, the beginning of a gentle slope leading to exams in early January. He warned us exams would creep up on us and we’d be too busy partying to study over the break, so we should begin revising previous years’ work to give a decent head start. Of course none of us listened; too busy buzzing about the new three-some from lunch to talk about anything else.
And when I stepped into the parking lot after school I could see his see his black eyes watching me, following me, from within his small car.
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