My first weekend in Forks passed without incident. Charlie, unused to
spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend. I
cleaned the house, got ahead on my homework, and wrote my mom more
bogusly cheerful e-mail. I did drive to the library Saturday, but it was
so poorly stocked that I didn't bother to get a card; I would have to
make a date to visit Olympia or Seattle soon and find a good bookstore. I
wondered idly what kind of gas mileage the truck got… and shuddered at
the thought.
The rain stayed soft over the weekend, quiet, so I was able to sleep well.
People greeted me in the parking lot Monday morning. I didn't know all
their names, but I waved back and smiled at everyone. It was colder this
morning, but happily not raining. In English, Mike took his accustomed
seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights. It was
straightforward, very easy.
All in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable than I had thought I
would feel by this point. More comfortable than I had ever expected to
feel here.
When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white.
I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. The wind bit at my
cheeks, my nose.
"Wow," Mike said. "It's snowing."
I looked at the little cotton fluffs that were building up along the
sidewalk and swirling erratically past my face.
"Ew." Snow. There went my good day.
He looked surprised. "Don't you like snow?"
"No. That means it's too cold for rain." Obviously. "Besides, I thought
it was supposed to come down in flakes — you know, each one unique and
all that. These just look like the ends of Q-tips."
"Haven't you ever seen snow fall before?" he asked incredulously.
"Sure I have." I paused. "On TV."
Mike laughed. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into
the back of his head. We both turned to see where it came from. I had my
suspicions about Eric, who was walking away, his back toward us — in the
wrong direction for his next class. Mike appatently had the same notion.
He bent over and began scraping together a pile of the white mush.
"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" I kept walking as I spoke. "Once people
start throwing wet stuff, I go inside."
He just nodded, his eyes on Eric's retreating figure.
Throughout the morning, everyone chattered excitedly about the snow;
apparently it was the first snowfall of the new year. I kept my mouth
shut. Sure, it was drier than rain — until it melted in your socks.
I walked alertly to the cafeteria with Jessica after Spanish. Mush balls
were flying everywhere. I kept a binder in my hands, ready to use it as a
shield if necessary. Jessica thought I was hilarious, but something in my
expression kept her from lobbing a snowball at me herself.