The Hood By Lawn Girl.pdf

The Hood By Lawn Girl

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5715904/1/

The hair on the nape of his neck is finer than the rest of it. I chew on the end of

my pencil as I contemplate what color it actually is. It's certainly not regular old

brown, but it doesn't quite register as red to me either.

Auburn? That sounds too girly - like it came off the side of a Clairol box. His hair

is definitely all natural. Copper? Bronze? Now it just sounds like I'm describing a

handful of change.

Hmm…

I lean forward in my chair a few more inches so I can inspect further. Before I'm

able to decipher if perhaps it's some shade of cinnamon, my concentration is

broken.

"Bella?"

I vaguely register somebody calling my name, and for a brief second I wonder if

it's him. I blink and notice he's twisted around in his seat; two perfect orbs in the

most beautiful shade of green are now staring at me, a smirk playing on his lips.

I want to stop staring back at him, but his eyes are hypnotizing.

Hmm…are they simply green, though? Perhaps emerald? Pine or Jade?

"Miss Swan!"

This time my name is called more forcefully and pulls me out of my hazy

thoughts instantly.

Shit.

It's now painfully clear that the voice belongs to Mr. Banner. I can feel the telltale

prickle of embarrassment begin to heat up my cheeks. My eyes fly to the board,

taking in the numbers that are written there, wondering if I can figure out what

the heck Mr. Banner just asked me without having to make him repeat his

question.

"Um…I…uh…" I stall for time, and miraculously the bell rings, saving me from my

misery.

Mr. Banner gives me a pointed look and I shrink in my seat, embarrassed beyond

all belief. The beautiful boy in front of me gives me an amused look, before he

grabs his worn backpack from off the floor and heads out the door. I watch as he

has to stop and pull his slouching pants back up around his skinny waist before

finally walking out the door.

"Bella."

Mr. Banner's voice breaks me free from my daydreaming haze once more.

"Yes?" I look up at him and try my best to look like the picture perfect version of

innocence.

"Please try and stay focused while in my class, okay?" he asks with a raised

eyebrow.

I nod as I scramble to gather all my books and make it to my next class on time.

Focus isn't my problem. I am focused, just not on science. Instead, for the past

few weeks all I've managed to focus on has been Edward Cullen.

Edward Cullen.

Quiet, smart, unassuming Edward Cullen.

Oh, and have I forgotten to mention how incredibly fuckhot he is? Yeah, there's

that. In addition to his perfect hair, he has those piercing green eyes that just

bore into you, even when he's not staring at you, they're just that good. His skin

is flawless and compliments his perfect bone structure. It's amazing he's slipped

under Calvin Klein's radar. It's also amazing that you never hear of any girl

getting between him and his Calvin's, either. For all his fuckhotness, Edward

Cullen remains perpetually single. I can't figure out why. From everything I can

tell, he is perfect, and I'm relatively certain that he's straight. Otherwise, I'm

certain one of the queens from the theater club would have already scooped him

up ages ago. I can ask him if he's dating anyone, but that requires me to actually

talk to him, something that hasn't exactly come up yet.

It's not like we haven't exchanged words; a friendly "here," when he passes back

a test in class, or there's that time he asked if I had an extra pencil. I'm just

working my way up to saying something...significant. It's really not my fault.

Those damn eyes of his make me forget my words. So I usually just smile and

look away quickly, kicking myself for not having had the guts to say something

brilliant.

I think about all of this as I rush to my next class, which is clear across campus.

Daydreaming about Edward Cullen definitely slows me down, and I make it to the

door of my classroom with only a couple of seconds to spare. I use them to catch

my breath, wiping away the thin sheen of sweat that has gathered from my upper

lip. Just as I'm about to walk in, somebody jostles me from behind, and I turn to

see who it is.

"Hey, Bells," drawls the blond boy behind me as he drapes an arm across my

shoulder.

"Oh. Hey, Jasper," I reply while playfully shoving him off of me.

By some weird twist of school scheduling fate, Jasper Whitlock and I are the only

seniors in this photography class. That fact right there cemented our friendship,

but we actually kind of click, too. Plus, it doesn't hurt that we both sneak off

together to grab a smoke when kooky Mrs. Cope lets us go outside to take

pictures. We make it in, just as Mrs. Cope starts prattling on about some group

assignment. Thankfully we only have to work in pairs and Jasper gives me a

knowing nod, meaning we better be together so he doesn't have to deal with any

of the sophomore freaks. I nod right back at him, even though I know I'm going

to get the evil eye from at least four of them now. There's a gaggle of them

harboring a thing for Jasper. Since he pretty much ignores them, yet hangs out

with me, I'm the target of their jealousy and ire. I turn my head, and see one of

them glaring at me in a way that tells me she's watched way too many episodes

of Gossip Girl. I actually cower under her stare. Rolling my eyes, I whisper loud

enough so only Jasper can hear.

"Your groupies look like they want to skin me alive. Maybe you should just toss

them a bone." I can't help giggling at my lame humor.

Jasper smirks, then makes things ten times worse by draping his arm over my

shoulder again. I pinch his side, causing him to yelp and step back. I can't help

laughing some more as I watch him rub his ribs, pouting his lips at me. I grab his

hand and drag him towards the back of the classroom. We can have more privacy

and discuss this assignment without being stared at to death.

While Jasper grabs his notebook from his bag, I take a minute to size him up.

Normally I think of Jasper as the brother I never had, and he treats me like one

of the guys, but I try and see what all the fuss is about. His messy blond hair falls

in his face, covering his icy blue eyes. He's really nice to look at, and I can see

why the Freshman Barbies get their panties in a twist over him. He's also friendly

and easy to talk too. From our discussions in class, I know he's got good taste in

music and movies as well. But for all he's got going for him, Jasper Whitlock is no

Edward Cullen.

I snort, which of course grabs Jasper's attention.

"What's with the ladylike noises, Swan?"

"Nothing. Let's just figure this project out. How about you do this part here…" and

soon we're focusing on the assignment, my snort forgotten.

As class ends, Jasper leans over and gets my attention.

"Hey, you should come to Aro's tomorrow. We're just gonna hang and stuff, but I

think the guys will get a kick out of you."

"Aro?" I ask, while I mentally flip through our yearbook. I'm pretty sure I'd

remember a kid with a name like that. Maybe he's new?

"Yeah. Zachary Aronstein? We just call him Aro, saves time. So…you down?"

I'm pretty sure my Saturday is free, but I don't rush to fill Jasper in on that sad

fact. Instead, I pretend to think about it for a second, but when I actually do

think about it, I remember that I promised I'd make dinner for my dad.

"What time?"

"I dunno, maybe one or two? I can come pick you up on my way."

"Yeah, sure. Why not? I just need to be back by six. I…uh, I have dinner plans."

There. That makes it sound like I actually have a life.

"Sounds good, see you tomorrow."

I scrawl my address on a scrap of paper and flick it at Jasper, who catches it with

ease. As I leave the classroom, careful to avoid the Barbie Brigade, I find myself

wondering what Edward Cullen has planned for this weekend.

Jasper calls it "The Hood," and to be honest, it makes it sound cooler than it is.

He's been talking it up the entire ride over, and I'm expecting something

completely kick ass. As I look at the old garage in the back of Aro's house, I'm

pretty sure kickass has never been uttered in the same sentence as this place.

The old, dilapidated garage with blackened out windows stands before me, almost

begging me to make fun of it. I keep my mouth shut, for Jasper's sake. He's

looking at me expectantly and I give him a smile, which seems to satisfy him,

because he grabs my arm and pulls me in, shouting as we go.

"Hey, motherfuckers! We're here, and I've got a girl with me, so y'all better be

decent!"

"Who'd you bring, your mother?" snorts somebody and I stifle a giggle, while

Jasper flips the bird at the offending person.

We walk further in and I allow my eyes to adjust to the low lighting. It's dimly lit,

with two lava lamps and a couple strings of colorful Christmas lights making up

the only light in the space. The walls are covered in a mixture of old movie

posters and various quotes written in marker. A funky, old tapestry covers the

ceiling and I have to admit that clearly some thought must have gone into the

décor of this place. I just can't tell what they were thinking.

Looking over I notice Aro and his buddy Marcus Volterra. I smile in

acknowledgement when Aro and Marcus wave hello. They're sitting across from

the couch in a couple of orange, plastic chairs, flicking Uno cards at each other. I

try and make myself comfy on a dusty, beat up couch and pray that the stains

I'm sitting on are just juice or something equally normal. Jasper heads off in the

direction of a mini-fridge, scrounging around for something to drink. I make

another sweep of the space with my eyes and notice somebody sitting in a

recliner in the far corner, but a shadow covers his face, so I can't see who it is. I

vaguely nod in the recliner's direction to be polite. As I settle in, I notice that Aro

and Marcus are engaged in a heated debate, and I shift towards them, listening

in.

"Dude, I just don't buy it," I hear Aro argue passionately. "Clerks is far superior

to Chasing Amy. There's just no comparison. We see the introduction of two of

the funniest fucks ever – Jay and Silent Bob. Clerks is their debut, bro. Also, you

get to hear the word 'fuck' be used in all its various forms…noun, verb, swear,

adjective…" he trails off with a dreamy smile.

"I dunno, man," counters Marcus. "The whole black and white aspect just seems

like he's trying too hard, like he's trying to be all avant garde and shit. On the

other hand, Chasing Amy has Joey Lauren Adams, and you know she's hot. It

also launched the career of one Mr. Ben Affleck. And hello…it has lesbians! Don't

forget the lesbians!"

Now Marcus' face turns all starry eyed and dreamy. I try my best to stifle a laugh

at their argument, but it unfortunately still comes out, only in the form of a loud

snort. Both boys stop their conversation and turn to stare at me. Aro looks

amused, but Marcus seems a bit put out, like my laughter offends him somehow.

"What?" Aro asks, his tone a slightly challenging one.

I hear Jasper step over so he's standing behind me, and I hope that I am not

about to overstay my welcome with what I'm about to say.

"Actually, I was just thinking that both of you are wrong. Dogma was really Kevin

Smith's time to shine. Not only did he manage to snag some killer A-list actors,

but he managed to skewer the Catholic Church while making me laugh my ass off

in the process. It takes balls to come out swinging with both fists like that against

the Church. Oh, and having Alanis Morissette play God was just inspired."

I pause, noticing the wide-eyed, slack jawed look that both Marcus and Aro are

sporting.

"Plus," I add with a smirk, "Matt Damon is hot."

It's silent for almost a minute, before Jasper smacks me on the shoulder and

whistles through his teeth.

"Way to bring it, Swan!" he says approvingly.

The other guys nod in agreement, both still stricken with momentary muteness.

From the dark corner of the room I hear somebody clap slowly and see the shape

in the chair start to move forward into the light. A shock passes through me as I

take in who's sitting there.

Edward Cullen.

Ho-lee-shit.

I immediately turn bright red as my cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment. I

pray that the dim lighting hides my tell tale sign and do my best to look

anywhere than at him.

"Bella Swan," he says thickly, and the way he pronounces my name sounds like

he is savoring each syllable.

"Who knew you were so well versed on Kevin Smith."

He gets up from his seat and slowly walks over, plopping himself down on the

couch next to me. He pulls his leg up under him so his knee brushes against my

thigh. My skin tingles at the contact between us, despite the layers of jean

separating our bodies. I try not to stare at the space where we're touching and

instead do my best to look at his face. Of course, the moment I take in the

piercing green eyes, his full, pouty lips and the smattering of lickable stubble

across his cheeks and jaw, I turn into a pile of mush.

"Um, yeah…" I finally manage to spit out.

I need to get myself together if I'm going to be able to blurt out more than one

word syllables at him. I wrack my brain, trying to think of something both

intelligent and interesting to say, but come up blank. Thankfully, Jasper acts as

my savior as he plops down next to me on the couch.

"Yup, our Bella is a little movie aficionado."

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