It was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie had never gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable that I had to share a bathroom, let alone a house, with a one-armed man that I was forced to call my father and not his real name: Charlie.
I didn't want to be too early to school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore. I donned24 my jacket—which had the feel of a biohazard suit—and headed out into the rain.
The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. I missed the normal crunch of gravel as I walked. I couldn't pause and admire my new truck as I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out of the misty wet that swirled around my head and clung to my hair, under my hood.
Inside the truck it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. Indian smells. The engine started quickly, to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, but only got stations from the 1950s.
Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before, since I had just moved here. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School,25 indicated to me that it was the Forks High School. It looked like a collection of
24. Put on. A homonym of 'dawned.'
25. A high school in the town of Forks, Washington. The only high school in the town which serves grade levels 9-12. The low matriculation rate makes it easy for young-looking vampires to pose as students for extended periods of time.