On the surface, Katie Swan appears to be an average girl. She's pretty, athletic, and abnormally intuitive. But when her parents are suddenly murdered, she is sent to Forks, WA to live with her uncle Charlie and his shy daughter Bella.
Soon, Katie l...
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KATIE'S POV September 3rd
My first few classes are a bore. Mike attempted to whisper to me throughout art class, which sucked for many reasons. One being that Mr. J immediately decided to move me to the front of the class so that Mike couldn't talk to me anymore (yes, it was just about as awkward as it sounds). I realized ten minutes in I would already know everything Mr. J had to teach. Actually, that was a common theme in many of the classes. I felt so condescending thinking this, but... this school just wasn't challenging. Not like David Douglas High School had been.
As was typical for the first day, I wasn't required to take notes, so I spent most of class with my mind wandering. My parents had died only a few short weeks ago, but it felt like a lifetime. A month ago, I still believed I would be entering my junior year with my friends from home. Praying that Johnathan would stick around for a while longer. And look where that had gotten me!
I almost sigh in relief when the lunch bell echoes over the loudspeakers, my stiff back protesting as I push up out of my seat and sling my backpack over my shoulder. "Katelyn, do you mind coming here?" My English teacher prompts, beckoning me to the front of the classroom. I oblige, hesitating in front of her large wooden desk.
Mrs. Taylor, a woman who I'd guess was middle-age, peers up at me through her large round glasses. "Well, you sure do look like Bella," she says quietly, shaking her head. I must be giving her a strange look, because she backpedals. "Word gets around fast around here, Miss Swan. I apologize."
"It's alright," I say dismissively, itching to leave the classroom. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
Mrs. Taylor hands me a folder with the syllabus inside. I glance it over quickly and look back up at her. "Which of these units are you familiar with?" She asks me, a blank expression on her face. The way her hands are gripped together, however, makes me believe this prompt has a motivation.
"All of them," I admit sheepishly, blushing. "I was in an advanced program back at my old school."
Mrs. Taylor nods, unfazed. "Just as I suspected. The education available at Forks is..." she trails off, for good reason. "I was wondering if you'd like me to bump you up to my Senior-Level Literature class. Your schedule may have to change a bit, but I think it would be doable."
I want to resist, but what good would that do? "Alright," I say cautiously, handing her the folder still clutched in my hands. "Thank you."
"No problem, Katelyn." Mrs. Taylor nods, giving me a warm smile. "Sorry for holding you up. I hope you enjoy lunch."
"Thanks," I repeat, grabbing hold of the straps of my backpack. "And... I'd prefer if you called me Katie."
Mrs. Taylor beamed at that. "Alright, Katie. Enjoy," she says dismissively, encouraging me to leave. I follow the winding hallway to the cafeteria, noisy with commotion. I assumed the lunchroom would be mostly full, but it's fairly empty. Most kids, I'd guess, are taking advantage of the sunlight still available to them. Well, not sunlight exactly— but not rain.
