All I Wanted Was the Truth

I passed the next little while carefully avoiding Bella Swan - she was renewed as the center of attention since the accident with Tyler Crowley and his Spinning Van on ice performance. Normally, I would've simply ignored Bella. Well, if she talked to me, I suppose I would be civil to her - after all, she'd done nothing to earn my strange dislike toward her. But I truly didn't want attention from the other students, so whenever she walked down the hall in my direction, I turned around and took a longer route.

But even though I was trying hard to be far from her, I thought about her a lot. Big city Bella Swan, with the looks that she was completely oblivious to, apparently. Accident prone Bella Swan. Sought-after Bella Swan.

For, yes, I saw the boys staring at her. They wished they could have the attention she was paying Edward Cullen - the only boy, it seemed, who didn't want her that way. One day, in fact, I saw Eric Yorkie walk right into a wall while gazing after her.

Her appeal eludes me - no, she's not bad to look at, but she's utterly hopeless socially. I'm not saying I'm any better than she is, but I try to be less obvious about it. I can see her face fall infinitesimally when people talk to her uninvited, as if they need permission first. And yes, she's polite, but she can be short with those she's impatient with.

But I try to brush these thoughts aside. I have no right to make these conclusions about her; I hardly know her, having not once spoken to her since she arrived. I try instead to focus on my grades, which are slipping. I guess I should really pay more attention in class, instead of staring off into space.

After the one episode of the headache from hell, I've been fairly healthy. I do get stabbing pains from time to time, which are usually strong enough to stop me in my tracks and make me dizzy, but never so bad as the first time. So I've accepted them, and I'm used to the occasional knife-to-the-cranium feeling.

Life has been boring since Bella's accident, really. Life goes back to normal pretty quickly in Forks, despite it's small size and lack of anything exciting.

There is one thing, though, that everybody has been chattering about for a while now. Even the parents, including my father, which irks me only slightly.

The Girls' Choice Spring Dance.

I am fully aware that a dance of such importance should be taken seriously, not shoved aside and forgotten, as I have tried to do. Nothing much goes on in Forks outside the high school, and a dance is big news. Dad even questioned me on it last week.

"Kaya?" he had asked, looking up from his place on the couch as I walked by.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Are you going to the dance in a few weeks?"

I remember looking down at him, a mask of horror and shock plastered on my face. "Excuse me?"

"The dance, honey, are you going?" He looked concerned, but I doubt it was over which boy had asked me. He always worried over the fact that I never invited friends over, and referred me constantly to his friends kids who went to school with me. He was most likely worrying that I wouldn't be going.

The poor guy; I should probably ease his pain a little bit. Just this once.

"Yeah, Dad; I'm going." I nodded, managing to stretch a grin across my features.

He smiled. "That's great, Kaya." He went back to watching - wouldn't you know it - the news.

Thinking back, I truly regret telling him that. I should have just told him I'd be going to a friends house instead. A new friend whose parents he'd never met, and therefore couldn't contact to make sure I wasn't lying.

But now I'm roped into going, as I'm sure he's told all of his buddies at the auto shop. Even though the shop rarely has business, and is very small, even for Forks, news can spread fast from any spot in town.

I've said before that I'm basically friendless, but I've also said there are those who tried valiantly to break that fact to pieces. Mike Newton and Angela Weber, for example, are still perfectly nice to me on the rare occasions we exchange pleasantries. And Angela is also a friend of Jessica Stanley, who will give up no chance to receive gossip.

I assume my father told Mr. Weber, who he has a drink with every Friday night at the pub in Port Angeles, and also Mr. Newton, that I was going to the dance. That led the parents to tell the children this bit of news. And that inevitably led Angela to pass the news on to Jessica, who is now constantly on my tail asking who I'll ask to the dance.

Jessica is a nice girl for the most part, so I don't like to be rude to her. But she is getting extremely annoying.

She caught me at lunch today, just as I sat at the small, empty table I'd taken to sitting at since the day Bella arrived - the one near the Cullen's, and furthest from her. I was trying to enjoy my cheese pizza, which was a rare treat from the chef training kids.

But, no, Jessica couldn't have that.

"Hi, Kaya!" She sat down without asking to, all smiles.

I looked at her for a moment, before deciding to give her a few minutes of my time. "Hello, Jessica."

"How's things?" she asked innocently, winking at me conspiratorially.

I shrugged, taking a bite of pizza before answering. "Things are fine. How about you?"

"Going great!" she replied, happy as ever. "So, listen," She leaned in closer, looking around dramatically. Here it comes - "Have you decided who to ask to the dance yet?"

I sighed. "No, Jessica. Not yet," I thought about telling her I had decided not to go, but that news would reach my father, so that option was out. "I might just go alone."

Whoops. Big mistake.

"What?" Jessica gasped, placing a hand over her heart, as if I'd told her I was dying of some incurable disease. "But you can't! There must be somebody you'd like to ask, out of all the boys in the school!"

Now, this was a stretch. The boys in this school were, for the most part, great guys. But none of them really interested me.

"No, really, Jessica, going alone doesn't sound all that bad to me." I assured her.

She pouted. "Come on, Kaya. Don't be like that. You can ask anybody, and I'm sure they'd say yes! They talk about you, you know." she said, catching me completely off guard.

"They do what, now?"

"Talk about you, silly!" I winced. "I think a lot of them are sad that you don't talk much," She smiled again.

I raised my eyebrows at her. "They must be running out of conversation topics, then." I replied.

She sighed. "Oh well, Kaya, come tell me when you decide!" And she skipped off back to her table.

I looked down at my pizza, no longer hungry. I frowned at it. My appetite was ruined now, too.

I stood up, pushing the chair away and making my way to the garbage can. I emptied my tray onto it; all but the pineapple juice, which I capped and carried off with me.

As I left the cafeteria, I noticed Jessica sighing and shaking her head, talking to Angela Weber and Mike Newton. They all looked over at the table I'd just left. Angela's eyes swept around the room, resting quickly on me. Jessica was searching in the other direction. Mike saw me, too.

I stopped, unsure of what to do. They smiled; they seem to know me too well. They waved a friendly hello and farewell, and I smiled back, walking out the doors and into the empty halls.

I unscrewed the lid to the pineapple juice - my favorite - and gulped some down. My footfalls echoed as I walked through the linoleum building to my locker.

And it hit me again. Not as bad as the first time; it never was, but painful nonetheless.

The piercing in my head continued for several minutes before it finally subsided to a dull, throbbing presence.

I opened my eyes, realizing multiple things at once: I had closed my eyes, for one. Also, I was on the floor, hugging my knees, teeth clenched. I was covered in a thin layer of cold sweat.

Surprised at myself, I got to my feet a little unsteadily. It was true, the pain hadn't been nearly as bad as the first time, but I had reacted almost as badly.

I put a hand on my locker, lowered my head, and closed my eyes. I worked to regain my balance, and to get rid of the dizziness clouding my thoughts.

After a short moment, I allowed myself to look up again. My vision was clearer, and the sweating had stopped. I wiped my slick face on my sleeve, breathing a sigh of relief.

Just as I was opening my locker, I heard a door close. I looked around.

I was still alone. Only mildly curious, I turned back to my locker.