Bella Swan was properly pissed off. She hovered by the entrance of the lunch hall with her brown bag clenched tight in her fist, her gaze swimming through the human tide to find a place to sit.
No spots. Sharp teeth nipped at the back of Bella's mind as her annoyance poked holes in her meticulously crafted dam. So much space across the entire hall, and yet they decided only to place tables for half the school's population. She imagined the district's board gathered in a seance, predicting the time of her arrival and removing all seating just to spite her.
It could've happened.
Maybe.
Bella gnawed at her cheek as she promptly fled the lunch hall. She'd rather starve than sit with her shoulders pressed up against people she didn't know. Ruminating in her anger, she stalked the narrow hallways to find a staircase to sit at—there was only one at this school, located by the science wing. Bella passed small groups of students who claimed vacant corners as their sacred lunch territory, giving her wary glances as if she posed a threat to their peace.
They weren't entirely wrong. She posed no threat to their peace; her anger was directed at someone else entirely. A boy who was tall, lean, had the world's reddest eyes, and the world's most irritating personality, oh, and the boy who happened to be laying on the only damn staircase in the school. Bella gnashed her teeth when she spotted him with his arms thrown over his head, taking up the entire damn walkway.
Edward Cullen.
Renée Dwyer, Bella's mother, always told her she had a talent for making enemies. She hated proving her right. But just two weeks in and she already had a viscerally hated adversary.
On her first day, she waltzed into biology and sat down where the teacher instructed her to, beside Edward Cullen. Not only did he almost hurl, he opened the window and spent the rest of class sticking his nose out of it. Bella had never before felt humiliation burn so red on her face. Since then he's had a cactus up his ass nearly all the time around her. From moving his chair as far away from her as possible, to plugging his nose with earplugs, he made sure to make every day a hell filled with her peers' eyes.
But the 6th day was the real kicker. Bella slept particularly well that night—who knew rain could be so soothing—and was on her A-game the entire lesson. Everything was going well for once, until after asking another question to the teacher, Edward lifted his head from the table. With a swift swivel of his head, his sharp red gaze landed right on Bella. Despite her surprise, a soft whisper stole her breath away as her mind connected those eyes to her dream.
"Is there anything you actually know? Or is it that you can't shut up?" he said, with venom laced in every word.
Which was exactly why Bella turned around when she saw him on the stairs. She wanted nothing to do with him; hell she might as well crash that hallway group's peace and sit uncomfortably close to them.
She was the bigger person.
She was the better person.
Do not interact. Just walk away. Be the better-
"Oh, it's you again. Why are you chronically not where you're supposed to be?"
Her plans went right out the window.
"What is your problem, Cullen? Seriously, do you have a giant branch of thorned roses up your ass or something!?" Bella snapped, spinning around on her heels to face him. Her green eyes bubbled like poison and like a man blinded by his ego, his only reaction was the taunting arch of his thick brows.
With feline grace, he rose from the stairs and cracked his neck with two gentle twists. Edward already towered above Bella on an equal playing field, but especially now. Rare sunlight slipped through the large window behind him, bathing him in a halo of light that bounced off all his dark clothing. His dark jacket covered nearly all of his neck and arms, and, as crazy as her assumption felt, Bella wondered if he purposefully tried to cover every inch of his skin. His amber hair glistened like the gem it resembled, making his hair appear more like molten copper.
"Ah, so you can't shut up. Thank you for answering my question with your endless blabbering," he clicked his tongue at the end and waved her off with a flick of his wrist. "Now go back to the sweat pool of students you came from."
His taunts went in one ear and swiftly out the other as Bella stormed up the steps to stand right in front of him. Her each footstep echoed like a war drum against Edward's skull, his nose scrunching as she closed in. Fate locked in as Edward's body refused to move and Bella's hand reached out. She snatched him by the front of his jacket and tugged the shocked boy down to her eye level, leaving him momentarily stunned.
"You've got a really punchable face, Cullen. Go on, say that again. Fuck around and find out," she hissed. Her warning boiled in the space between them as her free hand curled into a tight fist.
Like a winter beast, Edward released a smokey breath of cold. His eyes hardened as the angered boy leaned in menacingly. Neither of them would ever know what he was about to say, thanks to the startling noise that sent them flying apart. Metal rang in their ears and shook their skulls as their desperate palms flew up to shield themselves from the violent attack. When the jarring noise stopped, their eyes drew upward to its source.
A young woman quietly stood quietly at the top of the stairs, her pale fingers cradling a smooth black stone. Her silver hair glistened like starlight in the unusually direct sun. Wise silver eyes—silver like the full moon—bore into them one by one. She started with Edward, who received nothing more than a critical glance. Next in her line of attack stood Bella, but the student's gaze was swept over with the tide. Disapproving silver turned soft and comforting, the woman giving her a slow nod.
Edward's skin constricted around his bones, growing itchy as his feet were compelled by the urge to run. Like the proudest trees kneeling to the wind's strength, the boy bowed his head and turned on his heels. He strode off without another word, disappearing into the monochrome school hallways.
"What just happened?" She couldn't wrap her head around it, feeling the hushed realization of something beyond herself brush the back of her ears. Bella Swan stepped into territory she wasn't familiar with.
The weird part? She wasn't entirely sure this new world was familiar with her either.
When Bella turned her gaze back to the woman, she was standing a mere few steps above her. She jumped back three steps, startled by their sudden proximity. Bella waited for her to speak first, to explain herself, but her fellow student just watched her.
Her hair was as silver as her eyes, shimmering strands of spun satin in the sunlight. Freckles dusted her nose like stars across the night sky, those silver eyes her two moons. She wore an elegant purple crop top over what looked like a fishnet shirt, the base tucked into her long black skirt and thick silver belt. Her sneakers were purple, hand embroidered with grey thread depicting the lunar phases, and worn down from years of use.
Bella cleared her throat. "Thanks for diffusing the situation back there," she said, scratching the back of her head to try and find a socially appropriate thing to say. "I'm Bella. What's your name?"
Realization flickered across the woman's eyes as she lifted her fist to her chest, rubbing in a quick circular motion before digging through the pockets of her skirt. Bella's eyebrows arched, and she instinctually leaned in.
She watched as the woman pulled out a notepad and flung it open, sliding her pencil out of its holder as she began to write. When she was done, she flipped the notepad around and showed Bella. Her handwriting was neat and big, with cute little loops around her y's and a's.
My name is Cyra. Sorry for the confusion, I'm mute.
"Oh, I see. Do you sign?"
Yes. Do you?
"Only a few basic signs," Bella admitted. Cyra chuckled quietly, smiling as she wrote down her next sentence.
Like sorry. A good start, Bella.
"I can't help but feel like I'm being mocked" she responded sarcastically. Cyra's contagious smile spread to her face and tugged the corners of her mouth up.
Only a little.
The two girls settled into their spots on the stairs and pulled out their lunches, making tables of their laps as they sat shoulder to shoulder. Bella's lunch was a standard sandwich with a side of chopped carrots and a small cookie tucked into the side of her container. On the other hand, Cyra's was a warm container of spaghetti and meatballs, an array of green leaves sprinkled over the long noodles.
"That looks delicious," Bella said in between bites of her sandwich.
Thank you, Cyra signed.
"Do you cook?"
Cyra made a small pinching motion with her right hand as she wrapped noodles around her fork and scooped them into her mouth.
"A little?" Bella asked, hoping she understood correctly. The light-haired woman nodded as she pulled up her notebook and clarified in writing.
Yes. I cook a little bit, mostly on weekends. My mom made me this lunch, though.
"My dad made me this one."
Cyra gave her a polite smile and a thumbs up, but her eyes drifted to the side. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek as she began penning down her next sentence. Her words flew down like puzzle pieces that didn't want to stick, her eraser working as hard as her pencil. In their following silence, Bella munched on some carrots. A whisper, a nip at the inside of her mind tugged her eyes to the side as she tried to peek over Cyra's notepad.
As the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat. Though, in Bella's case, she was spared with just a firm smack to her shoulder by Cyra's pencil. Her curiosity thoroughly quenched, Bella threw up her hands as a peace offering and returned to mulling over what Cyra was writing in silence. A tap on her shoulder signaled her to look back at the silver-haired woman.
Not to change the topic, but I want to ask you a question. What's up with you and Cullen?
"Other than him being a raging jackass?"
You tried to fight him.
Bella sighed and nodded, looking down at the hallway below them as she gathered her thoughts. "He's been pushing my buttons since day one. I lost my cool," she explained. Bella caught a glimpse of the silver gleam in Cyra's eyes when she looked back. A dark sort of mistrust shot at the most deplorable members of society. It was gone in a blink and left the young woman pondering her initial observation.
Still, in the back of her mind, a voice of caution assured her she wasn't mistaken.
He's bad news, Bella. You've gotta stay away from him.
Bella arched a delicate brow in response, but Cyra's conviction didn't waver.
Trouble follows him everywhere. His whole family. He's dangerous. I'd argue they all are.
A sharp pang struck her between the ribs, temporarily pushing the air out of her. "Dangerous?" Her voice came out hushed like a docile summer wind, afraid of waking the sleeping forest wildlife. Bella heard her fair share of school gossip in her many years of life. It wasn't uncommon for certain individuals to come under a critical peer spotlight, whether they deserved it or not, but she never heard someone described as dangerous as an outcome of these social circle investigations.
He was stopped from graduating last year because he almost beat a boy to death in the commons. Seriously bloodthirsty.
"Just beat him up? No reason?"
Apparently, the boy looked at him funny.
"Christ."
You should stay away from him.
"That'll be difficult. I sit next to him in class," Bella muttered.
A flash of hesitance passed through Cyra, her hand faltering with a twitch as she moved it to her bag. Her brief internal dilemma ends the moment she pulls out... a stick? A bumpy, speckled branch of light wood no longer than her forearm was suddenly pointed right at Bella. Green, lush moss swirled around the straight, wand-like twig as if trying to channel an ancient spell from its base to its tip.
Bella blinked, then blinked again, her brain short circuiting trying to find an appropriate reaction to this odd gesture. Cyra opened up her palm and offered the branch to her, motioning with her head for the young woman to take it. Bella was absolutely sure this was how people died in horror movies, but despite her confusion, curiosity took hold of her hands and reached out for the whimsical branch.
Aaaaand nothing happened. It was cold against her skin and the smooth bark sent chills up her arm. As mystical as it appeared, the branch was perfectly ordinary.
If he tries anything, stab him with this.
"A... stick?" she asked, trying to clarify they were both seeing the same object. Maybe this was an acute onset of psychosis. Maybe this was what her mother meant every time she shouted that Bella was crazy. Honestly, she'd probably believe her right about now.
Trust me.
Not knowing what else to do, Bella shrugged and pulled open her dad's jacket. She stuck the surprisingly sturdy twig into her secret pocket and zipped it up for safety. Cyra grinned at her in response and got to finishing her food as the lunch bell rang out. If it made Cyra that happy, Bella supposed it couldn't be so bad at all.
What's a little moss inside her jacket? She'd clean it out once it died in there. And hey, maybe Edward Cullen was afraid of pointy sticks. Truly, Bella rested her mind after deciding this new friendship and this odd encounter was a win-win.
"So, Cyra. Why do you have a rock, anyway?" Bella asked as they stood up, students flocking into the hallways on their journey to their next class.
It gets people's attention.
"OOooh, so you always hit the metal to make noise! That's pretty smart."
With an innocent tilt of her head and an incriminating smile, Cyra quickly wrote down, Metal?