"I would say," she continues as she straddles my hips causing my eyes to bug out, "Ocean, you are the first person in my entire existence to give me butterflies, when I look in your eyes I see my purpose, a purpose I never thought existed.'
And the...
The outfit I decided to wear on my first day back is honestly the fiercest thing I own. I had spent the last week coming down from the manic fixation I had experienced the week prior. All the feelings of confidence and elation, the hyper fixations, they were all gone.
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I was left with exhaustion, embarrassment, and depression. Not fun. But I knew that today I had to look put together. Confident. Fierce.
So, enter outfit. Black leather cropped tee with oversized leather jacket, denim cut off styled jean shorts and fierce black chunky shoes.
If this outfit didn't make me feel confident, then I don't know what would. I had also spent this past week trying my hardest not to think about the Cullen situation. Because either way it was a bit of a shit show wasn't it?
Either I was right and they're vampires, or I was wrong, and they think I'm a nut job. Either way, very confusing.
--
I honestly don't know why I thought today would be any different. It's exactly the fucking same. No one noticing me or acknowledging me. no one paying me any type of attention. Not even the Cullen's. Well until lunch that is.
Sitting, minding my own business, listening to true crime, and sucking on a juice box. Just like every other 17-year-old in their spare time, thank you very much, when I am rudely interrupted by the scraping of five chairs.
"Hi Ocean, we've come to talk." Grace. Honestly, she scares me. I mean not as much as her gigantic boyfriend George, but you know, enough.
"Hi."
"you've threatened our family. And now we're threatening you. You ever so much as even begin to pose a threat to our family, and we will kill you. Do you understand? You are to keep your mouth shut." Thomas may have the scariest voice and demeanour of the entire family but that does not stop the laughter from bubbling out of my chest.
"You're threatening to kill me? Really? What kind of threat is that?" I laugh only succeeding to make them more angry.
"I think it's a pretty solid plan for someone who risks the exposure of our family." George's carefree, light-hearted voice does not match this situation, neither does my continued laughter.
"Okay, good plan. A few notes, if I may, for future reference don't threaten a depressed person with death. It's kinda the main goal. Also, side note, go for it. Kill me off. Let's see if you have any success. I know I haven't." Seeing the angry masks fall off of each of their faces was quite satisfying if I do say so myself.
--
That week went by pretty quick. I had my routine down for school now. Everyday wake up at 6.30 am, instantly regret setting the stupid alarm, and eventually drag myself out of bed and into the shower. Get dressed and go to the local coffee place. Get a caramel iced latte with oat milk; drive though, obviously. And drive to school, cry in the car for approximately 5 minutes and then hall ass to first period.
