Twilight Imagines

*Southern Drawl : Jasper Whitlock

* FINISHED *

TRIGGER WARNINGS: CURSING, MENTIONS AND DEPICTIONS OF ABUSE AND PARENTAL NEGLECT, HOMOPHOBIA

Male Pronouns : New Boy in Town Trope : Georgian :

Y/N moved from Georgia to Washington; a drastic change of pace, scenery, as well as weather. However, only one thing has stayed the same: High School.

______________________________________

Fingers gripped tight to the strap over his broad shoulder, pulling it taut to ensure it wouldn't slide off. Y/N kept his gaze trained firmly on the ground, avoiding any and all confrontation. However, his ears still picked up on the words his peers tried to desperately conceal behind their hands.

"That's Y/N, isn't he the cutest?"

"Why hasn't he made any friends yet?"

"Don't try to talk to him. I hear the last kid who tried to befriend him got his head smashed into a locker!"

"He's already been in three fights! He's only been here for two weeks!"

"Y/N's got a bad rep already. I'd steer clear from him if I were you."

The boy's jaw clenched as he attempted to drown out the whispers all around him, his fingers curling into fists as he tries in vain to reel his anger in. This was the exact reason his parents had packed up and moved him: his anger issues.

Y/N's parents, his mother more specifically, couldn't handle the gossip and judgmental stares they would receive everywhere they went. People would talk behind his mother's back at the grocery store, always speaking about the horrors her devil-of-a-son had committed. No matter how much Y/N had begged his mother to believe that he hadn't done anything without a reason, his mother still grew to resent him. Now, she couldn't stand to look her son in the eye, instead resorting to shutting her only son out.

A knock against Y/N's shoulder brought his attention to the hard-as-wood chest standing in his way. Dull E/C eyes lifted to connect with dark, almost black ones, before he took a step back. A small breath escaped the smaller boy's lungs, and he opened his mouth to speak, only to be beaten to the punch.

"Yo, hey, sorry. Wasn't watching where I was going," the large boy - no, man, Y/N corrected himself - chuckled, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. Y/N merely fixed him with a blank stare.

"It's fine. 'M sorry on my behalf anyway, I wasn't either."

Without another word or glance at the taller man, Y/N ducked and walked around him. However, a large hand wrapped itself around Y/N's upper arm. On instinct, Y/N quickly yanked himself out of the grip, and spun on his heel. Thankfully, though, the H/C haired boy was able to pull back enough to stop himself from lashing out. Again, he was met with the guy he'd bumped into.

"Uh, the name's Emmett Cullen. I've seen you around, and I'd like for you to sit with me and my family," The guy, Emmett, stated, a lopsided smile on his lips as he gazed down at the shorter boy. Instead of receiving the expected response, Y/N glared at him.

"No. Thanks," his tone was harsh, leaving no room for argument, and he spun back around, stalking to his class around the corner.

_____

The bell rang, signaling for lunch, but Y/N stayed seated. His E/C eyes skimmed over the students as they exited the classroom, not really paying attention to anyone in particular. However, dark brown eyes locked with his, and he quickly pulled them down to his desk. He heard the distinct clicking of heels on the tiled floor, and listened as they approached his desk, never lifting his eyes.