I Never Meant to Start a War
Silence
Once upon a time, there was a tiny town named Forks, nestled in the middle of nowhere on the cloudy Olympic Peninsula of Washington state. It didn’t hold anything special, unless you prided yourself in being a lumberjack. I had grown up on Fletcher, and that was the only house I had ever known, the one with the powder blue exterior that was an eyesore, and the dark tan of the interior that went well with the soft tan colors of the furniture. My mother and father had grown up in the town and had never felt the need to leave. So here I was.
I wasn’t really anything special. I was Marie Dunn, after all—the only thing I was known for was punching Jessica Stanley when we were ten. I had ice blue eyes and black hair that fell naturally curly to the top of my ribs, a pale complexion from lack of sun exposure, and a quiet personality that reflected into my overall behavior. I was the quiet girl who sat in the back of the room most of the time, playing with my pencil or staring out the window with a faraway look in my eye. No one really knew me.
The high school was full of those with the small town persona, which wasn’t nearly as stuck up as one might believe. We might have known each other, but that didn’t mean that we were inbred or clichéd high school bullies. I knew some that fit into that category, but not all were like that—because we knew each other, we did our best to tolerate one another. Chances were that we were never going to leave this tiny, rainy town.
And that was the way it was before they showed up.
The Cullens sent a shockwave through the town that had long since been dormant, and it caused quite an explosion. Some went out of their ways just to catch a glimpse of the family that had kicked everything into motion. Some actually attempted to speak to them and invite them into an inner circle to no avail. Some had the audacity to stare at them from across the cafeteria.
I was one of the few that just left them alone. If I was the new students in their position, I wouldn’t want to be bothered repeatedly and badgered about where you had come from, who your parents are, or anything else that was personal. I took to regarding them as I did with everyone else—silence.
Little did I know that was what set me apart from everyone else, what made him see me, and, eventually, would be the reason he fell in love with me.
~*~
I was sixteen finally, as many of us know that feeling, as well as the disappointment that came with it. Sixteen seemed like the age where everything was going to go right, where everything was going to explode into something more—but it didn’t. Not immediately, at least.
It was late August, the first day of my junior year. The first class of the day was English with a teacher I heard was the bee’s knees, so I was rather optimistic when I walked into the tiny classroom. Four rows of four desks lined one side of the classroom while a board and desk complete with ancient computer sat in the front. A teacher glanced up at me from in front of the computer and smiled kindly.
“Name?” she asked.
“Marie Dunn.”
“Miss Dunn,” the teacher, Mrs. Adams, said to herself as she searched a pre-made seating chart. “Ah, right in the second row, third column.” She pointed with her pen in case I got lost, which, apparently, is common for teenagers to do when we are less than five feet away from their destination. But I still smiled kindly to her.
“Okay, thank you,” I told her and made my way to my seat, sitting down slowly into the chilled plastic chair. I shivered a little despite my jacket and dropped my backpack to the ground, curiously glancing around when I felt someone’s eyes on me. I learned quickly that the staring came from the right, and the source of the stares belonged to a golden eyed, golden haired beauty.
I knew him because everyone had been giggling and putting his family in the spotlight since their arrival. Jasper Hale, I knew that name. I caught myself staring into his golden eyes as he stared back, plainly curious, perhaps wondering why I was in an above level class for my age, perhaps wondering why I was staring. I felt my cheeks heat up and I looked toward the front of the class, pretending as though the opening door had caught my attention. I felt him glance at me for a second longer before he returned his attention back to the paperback he held, looking as though that moment had never happened.
The class hour went by rather fast, seeing as it was the first day. The preliminaries were covered, such as which books we were going to be reading and how the grading scale would work, and the telltale class rules. I got to my feet and grabbed my backpack, but my next step sent me slipping across the linoleum and crashing into the ground, wincing at the force of the fall. Some of the students still remaining started to snigger, some just looked at me, but only one looked at me with true concern.
“Are you alright?” a velvety voice asked, silencing the laughter effectively and turning it into shocked gasps. I looked up to see Jasper Hale looking down at me carefully, eyes widened innocently, and I suddenly felt embarrassed.
I scrambled for something to say and ended up laughing nonchalantly. “Tripping over flat surfaces is a pastime of mine,” I told this mysterious boy, feeling even more embarrassed when he began to smile. “I’m quite used to it. Stairs, now, that is a worse feat.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He held out his hand to help me up, my only reminder that I was still on the ground, and I hesitated before reaching out and taking it. He pulled me to my feet with ease and I didn’t stumble against him, as I had been hoping not to. His skin had been cold, possibly from the air from outside.
I looked up at him and was momentarily stunned by the look he had been giving me when I wasn’t looking. He had been looking at me with a soft, fond smile, but when he caught me looking, he held a twinkle in his eyes that told me he didn’t mind that I saw the emotions he had let slip. Even though he was still tense and looked a little uncomfortable, he was opening up to me, and that was nothing short of a miracle.
I glanced to the door. “I’m going to be late.”
“It’s the first day back,” he said, and smiled. “Best not to set a bad example. Shall we?”
I didn’t expect him to follow me, but I blushed and nodded anyway because I didn’t know how to say no. He smiled again like he had won and gestured to the door, and I scurried in front of him, digging out my schedule and glancing at it. I furtively looked to him to see him gliding silently behind me, ignoring the stares that we were receiving from incredulous students. He glided to stand beside me and gestured to the paper I held forgotten in my hand.
“May I?” he asked, and I shoved it toward him with a little too much enthusiasm. He tried not to move his lips as he looked it over, his eyes lighting up a couple of times, and I rested assured that I would see him at least one more time over the course of the day.
He handed the schedule back to me without telling me which classes we shared, and I didn’t ask.
“You’re in many advanced classes for your age,” he spoke aloud as we found my classroom. I stopped beside the doorway and turned to him, looking him over for a moment. He wore a pair of fitting jeans and a long gray pea coat, his hands stuffed into the pockets as he watched me, waiting for a response. His hair was combed back slightly, giving a good view of his face, and those eyes, and I felt my heartbeat quicken. I took a deep breath to silence it.
“The curriculum isn’t very challenging if you haven’t noticed,” I said, quickly hoping I didn’t sound rude, but he nonetheless laughed heartily. I bit my lip.
He nodded. “No, I’m very well aware. I’m actually quite impressed. You seem very intelligent.”
I opened my mouth to respond even though I wasn’t entirely sure I could speak, but was interrupted by the two minute warning bell. I glanced to Jasper and he sighed a little before smiling to me, knocking me breathless once again.
“Until next time?” he asked me. And then he turned around and added to the mystery by never looking back.
My name was spoken by the voices of many for the first time since my notorious brawl. And I couldn’t help but to, finally, listen to what people had to say.
I wasn’t really anything special. I was Marie Dunn, after all—the only thing I was known for was punching Jessica Stanley when we were ten. I had ice blue eyes and black hair that fell naturally curly to the top of my ribs, a pale complexion from lack of sun exposure, and a quiet personality that reflected into my overall behavior. I was the quiet girl who sat in the back of the room most of the time, playing with my pencil or staring out the window with a faraway look in my eye. No one really knew me.
The high school was full of those with the small town persona, which wasn’t nearly as stuck up as one might believe. We might have known each other, but that didn’t mean that we were inbred or clichéd high school bullies. I knew some that fit into that category, but not all were like that—because we knew each other, we did our best to tolerate one another. Chances were that we were never going to leave this tiny, rainy town.
And that was the way it was before they showed up.
The Cullens sent a shockwave through the town that had long since been dormant, and it caused quite an explosion. Some went out of their ways just to catch a glimpse of the family that had kicked everything into motion. Some actually attempted to speak to them and invite them into an inner circle to no avail. Some had the audacity to stare at them from across the cafeteria.
I was one of the few that just left them alone. If I was the new students in their position, I wouldn’t want to be bothered repeatedly and badgered about where you had come from, who your parents are, or anything else that was personal. I took to regarding them as I did with everyone else—silence.
Little did I know that was what set me apart from everyone else, what made him see me, and, eventually, would be the reason he fell in love with me.
~*~
I was sixteen finally, as many of us know that feeling, as well as the disappointment that came with it. Sixteen seemed like the age where everything was going to go right, where everything was going to explode into something more—but it didn’t. Not immediately, at least.
It was late August, the first day of my junior year. The first class of the day was English with a teacher I heard was the bee’s knees, so I was rather optimistic when I walked into the tiny classroom. Four rows of four desks lined one side of the classroom while a board and desk complete with ancient computer sat in the front. A teacher glanced up at me from in front of the computer and smiled kindly.
“Name?” she asked.
“Marie Dunn.”
“Miss Dunn,” the teacher, Mrs. Adams, said to herself as she searched a pre-made seating chart. “Ah, right in the second row, third column.” She pointed with her pen in case I got lost, which, apparently, is common for teenagers to do when we are less than five feet away from their destination. But I still smiled kindly to her.
“Okay, thank you,” I told her and made my way to my seat, sitting down slowly into the chilled plastic chair. I shivered a little despite my jacket and dropped my backpack to the ground, curiously glancing around when I felt someone’s eyes on me. I learned quickly that the staring came from the right, and the source of the stares belonged to a golden eyed, golden haired beauty.
I knew him because everyone had been giggling and putting his family in the spotlight since their arrival. Jasper Hale, I knew that name. I caught myself staring into his golden eyes as he stared back, plainly curious, perhaps wondering why I was in an above level class for my age, perhaps wondering why I was staring. I felt my cheeks heat up and I looked toward the front of the class, pretending as though the opening door had caught my attention. I felt him glance at me for a second longer before he returned his attention back to the paperback he held, looking as though that moment had never happened.
The class hour went by rather fast, seeing as it was the first day. The preliminaries were covered, such as which books we were going to be reading and how the grading scale would work, and the telltale class rules. I got to my feet and grabbed my backpack, but my next step sent me slipping across the linoleum and crashing into the ground, wincing at the force of the fall. Some of the students still remaining started to snigger, some just looked at me, but only one looked at me with true concern.
“Are you alright?” a velvety voice asked, silencing the laughter effectively and turning it into shocked gasps. I looked up to see Jasper Hale looking down at me carefully, eyes widened innocently, and I suddenly felt embarrassed.
I scrambled for something to say and ended up laughing nonchalantly. “Tripping over flat surfaces is a pastime of mine,” I told this mysterious boy, feeling even more embarrassed when he began to smile. “I’m quite used to it. Stairs, now, that is a worse feat.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He held out his hand to help me up, my only reminder that I was still on the ground, and I hesitated before reaching out and taking it. He pulled me to my feet with ease and I didn’t stumble against him, as I had been hoping not to. His skin had been cold, possibly from the air from outside.
I looked up at him and was momentarily stunned by the look he had been giving me when I wasn’t looking. He had been looking at me with a soft, fond smile, but when he caught me looking, he held a twinkle in his eyes that told me he didn’t mind that I saw the emotions he had let slip. Even though he was still tense and looked a little uncomfortable, he was opening up to me, and that was nothing short of a miracle.
I glanced to the door. “I’m going to be late.”
“It’s the first day back,” he said, and smiled. “Best not to set a bad example. Shall we?”
I didn’t expect him to follow me, but I blushed and nodded anyway because I didn’t know how to say no. He smiled again like he had won and gestured to the door, and I scurried in front of him, digging out my schedule and glancing at it. I furtively looked to him to see him gliding silently behind me, ignoring the stares that we were receiving from incredulous students. He glided to stand beside me and gestured to the paper I held forgotten in my hand.
“May I?” he asked, and I shoved it toward him with a little too much enthusiasm. He tried not to move his lips as he looked it over, his eyes lighting up a couple of times, and I rested assured that I would see him at least one more time over the course of the day.
He handed the schedule back to me without telling me which classes we shared, and I didn’t ask.
“You’re in many advanced classes for your age,” he spoke aloud as we found my classroom. I stopped beside the doorway and turned to him, looking him over for a moment. He wore a pair of fitting jeans and a long gray pea coat, his hands stuffed into the pockets as he watched me, waiting for a response. His hair was combed back slightly, giving a good view of his face, and those eyes, and I felt my heartbeat quicken. I took a deep breath to silence it.
“The curriculum isn’t very challenging if you haven’t noticed,” I said, quickly hoping I didn’t sound rude, but he nonetheless laughed heartily. I bit my lip.
He nodded. “No, I’m very well aware. I’m actually quite impressed. You seem very intelligent.”
I opened my mouth to respond even though I wasn’t entirely sure I could speak, but was interrupted by the two minute warning bell. I glanced to Jasper and he sighed a little before smiling to me, knocking me breathless once again.
“Until next time?” he asked me. And then he turned around and added to the mystery by never looking back.
My name was spoken by the voices of many for the first time since my notorious brawl. And I couldn’t help but to, finally, listen to what people had to say.
♠ ♠ ♠
What do you think?© The Surrealist, 2011