Strings || Jasper Hale

Behind the School

There was a stigma which came with being apart of the Monk family. By social recognition and self classification, they were dysfunctional, but even a blind mute could tell. It was the fault of the patriarch, who never bothered to look out for his sons, and let their name fall into disarray beneath his own doing.

However, of Rowan's three boys, no one felt his effects more than Creed. He couldn't even remember the last time he saw his Dad in person, one of the visits to Ireland probably, but there were no guarantees. Every so often, he might get a call, which made his heart beat that much quicker.

Creed had a vague recollection of his eleventh birthday, there or there abouts. It might have been Christmas that same year, it was extremely difficult to tell. Even so, his wish that year, his only wish, had been to see his father more. At least they made the effort to contact him; but the redhead had learned not to rely on him anymore.

Rowan was a rogue traveller. He hated to stay in the same place for more than a few weeks. His wanderlust was almost as prominent in his mind as real lust. Hence, his three known children, and the possibility of many more unknown. Though, if he randomly picked up a call, there was no way he would drop everything to take care of another Monk child. That wasn't his job.

This week came and went like a wildfire, Creed could hardly remember it. The next, however, was not the sort of day he could forget in a hurry.

His chats with Milo in art were becoming far more interesting now they knew they shared aspects of their personality. English was much more enjoyable now that he had been there closer to two weeks; Creed wondered how he'd not yet spotted Rosalie Hale, Jasper's sister, in that class. It proved just how much attention he'd been paying.

In the five minute gap between math and English, Creed had run to his locker. He needed to switch out his books for more subject appropriate ones. It was why he was so surprised to see the pixie-like Cullen stood ever so close to him. She was extremely frightening, only because she was so similar to a doll.

Her skin alone identified her as one of their clan. However, it was her hair which defined her as Alice Cullen. He was still learning their faces.

She was rather intimidating, despite her short stature. Creed didn't know what she could want with him, and it made him slightly uncomfortable, not knowing. It wasn't like the Cullen's were popular, they were practically infamous by schooling standards, but it didn't answer his question.

"Uh..." Creed blurted before he could think, properly. "Y'alright? Do you need something?"

"You're Creed Monk." She spoke with immense confidence. He was sick of so many people saying his name. However, her clarity was so off-putting that she could have called him Barbara and he would have answered.

"Yeah."

She introduced herself, despite the fact that everyone knew everyone in Forks, and everyone knew her family. "I'm Alice Cullen."

He nodded, throat dry. "Yeah, thanks."

     Creed continued to switch his books around from backpack to locker. He wanted maths books, music sheets, pretty much anything that wasn't in his bag needed to be. The silence was deafening. He hated it. However, he could still feel her presence. It was kind of creepy, like a possessed doll almost, but her persistence was admirable.