The Garnet Earring - Ch. 2

Chapter 2: Speed Freak

-

I felt like a criminal the next morning, and I looked the part as I ate breakfast with my dad. I was sure that my eyes would screen my nasty dream like a B-movie, so I stared deeply into my cereal bowl, and despite having taken a caustic shower at dawn, I was equally sure that my pores reeked of vomit, sex and midnight cigarettes, so I kept far enough from my dad so that he wouldn't smell the stink of sin. He handled my strange behavior with excruciating awkwardness, aggravating my paranoid suspicion that he knew everything I was hiding and making me twice as antsy to bolt. I'd chosen bran flakes over chocolate puffs in a desperate attempt to salvage my righteousness, and I shoveled the cereal into my mouth quickly enough not to taste it, the tip of my nose nearly dipping in milk as I did. Suddenly I surprised myself by bursting into a messy coughing spasm, having gotten a large spoonful of cereal down my windpipe; this seemed to me like a good opportunity to end breakfast, so I grabbed my backpack and sputtered a frantic goodbye to my dad as I hurtled out the door.

As soon as I was out of the house, I dropped my things and stopped to catch my breath, gasping and spitting out the wretched bran flakes as I cleared them out of my lungs. When I finally took my first full breath of fresh morning air, I felt different. I felt light and powerful, and I realized that the yoke of malaise no longer hung on my shoulders. I straightened up, cracked my neck, stretched my arms, and smiled; I felt like I'd had the best workout of my life, and even felt a mysterious sense of pride. I tossed my keys in the air and caught them as I strode to the truck, and by the time I started the engine, I'd forgotten how to feel bad.

-

I couldn't imagine why I'd been blessed with the feeling of being superhuman that day, but the blessing was hardly worth questioning. I felt like I was being treated to something better than anything the miserable wraiths of Forks would ever know, and it was exhilarating to feel like something more than human sludge as I tracked my regular slime trails throughout the school. As soon as I dared to believe that I'd truly become an invincible demigoddess, I arrived at the door to the biology lab and instantly felt a searing sense of dread. Inside, the teacher flipped the light switch, and the soulless buzz of the white lights illustrated my feelings like a tattoo gun on the flesh of my brain: my nightmare had taken place here. I turned to bolt from the doorway and immediately collided with someone, who wordlessly shoved past me into the lab. The tardy bell rang and people started to stampede into the lab, so I let myself be swept into the herd and tried not to hyperventilate.

After a few claustrophobic moments in transit, I was pushed into my chair and instantly jumped back up. I looked around wildly and saw nothing beyond the tedium of the class setting. I warily sat back down and felt it again as soon as I settled: a freakish, strong vibration pulsing up through my chair. I sat up just slightly and looked around again; everyone looked just as bored and boring as usual, so I was probably the only one experiencing this school-day turbulence. As soon as I was able to convince myself that I was the only one in the room who wasn't crazy, I slowly breached the inch of air that separated me and the chair, and savored the feeling that awaited me. My blood danced in my veins as the deep bass surged through my flesh, tickling the nerves up my legs, and between them, too - I quickly remembered to pay attention to my face, and thankfully was able to tame my ecstatic expression before anyone noticed me, but was powerless against the fearsome force of my blushing. When the teacher began to lecture, I managed to keep my lucky pleasure in the background for most of the period, until, with one fateful turn of the head, my luck turned as well.

In retrospect the boy that sat in the desk ahead and to my left was barely extraordinary; he looked like little more than a standard addict, anxious and pallid with deep facial hollows, but when he turned around and caught my eye, I lost control of myself. The vibration I'd felt earlier roared out of idle and rocked me like thunder, and I gripped the desk fiercely, my blood speeding through my body so powerfully that it might have burst through my skin. I saw nothing, I thought nothing; I didn’t even know if I was still alive until I heard an impassioned gasp cut through the air. In the hush that followed, I prayed desperately that I had imagined the sound until I opened my eyes and realized with horror that I had earned the attention of the entire classroom. The teacher had paused in the middle of scratching something on the chalkboard and slowly turned around, addressing my presence with the vicious authority of an executioner.

“Miss Swan,” he enunciated scathingly, savoring the mounting tension with a deliberate silence. “I don’t know what you got away with at school in Phoenix," he said as he slowly approached my desk, "but in my classroom I demand your undivided attention…” I sunk in my seat and flushed a painful shade of vermilion as a few snickers sounded throughout the room.

“…However,” he continued with relish, planting his hands on my desk and looking me in the eye, “I’m delighted that you’re enjoying my lecture so much.”

Then the classroom exploded with noise like a chorus of hyenas, and I couldn't tell how long everyone insisted upon laughing at my expense, because I immediately started picking furiously at a scab on my hand and watched my blood ooze out of my body until the bell rang. When I got up to leave, the boy who'd started it all was nowhere to be seen.

-

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

In between classes, I’d found the boy in the hall and managed to corner him, employing perhaps a bit more muscle than was reasonable. I held him by his sweatshirt and stared him down, hoping to intimidate some sort of response out of him, but after one second too much of contact with his infuriatingly innocent-looking eyes, I shivered with rage and physical pleasure, and I looked away quickly.

“You know what I’m talking about," I growled. "You humiliated me, and you'd better not dare to do it again.” He didn't respond, and I sneaked a look back at his face, which wore the same terrorized expression that made me so angry. I pushed him against the lockers and got my nose right up against his, although I made sure to keep a hair's breadth of space between our skin, fearing the consequences of our touch.

“I'm going to live a normal life here, do you understand me?” I hissed, and he recoiled, looking so uncomfortable as to be physically ill. I mercilessly probed his fearful features for answers until the bell rang; I fumed, suddenly feeling unbearably self-conscious.

“I’m not crazy!” I loudly insisted in vain, pushing him away. He bolted and was instantaneously out of sight, and anyone who had been near followed suit before I could notice them. As soon as he was gone, I slumped against the lockers, feeling as though a powerful amphetamine had just been drained from my bloodstream.

Once I was capable of paying attention to the more mundane details of my life, I noticed a lingering taste in my mouth. I held my hand up to my mouth, exhaled and recoiled with the same revulsion that the boy had shown. The cafeteria hummus had been especially potent today, and I reeked of garlic; maybe I was repelling the citizens of Forks with bad breath.