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Normality	By : AlphaOmegaPsi Category: Twilight Series > AU/AR > Slash Views: 2984 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.

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AN: This chapter is iffy to me...it feels really short even though I know it's not. Maybe it's because my paragraphs are so small...oh well, I should be thankful I could write this one at all considering the trouble the last one gave me. XD

Moar filler! Although there is a bit of insight into Barlie's personality. And if you notice, some contradictions in what he says and what he does. I'm not a bad writer, I swear, those are there on purpose.

Let's see, what else...oh, yeah, it's been a week since the last chapter. Barlie's therapy sessions are on Fridays from 3:00 to 4:00. He usually goes after school, then Bella picks him up. Then Saturdays are his work days, and the bookstore is closed on Sunday or he would work then too.

To Raisden_Captivity: yes, Ethan does already have a bit of a crush on Barlie. He's just too dense to realize it. But he'll come around eventually, just you wait. But not before a lot of sexual tension. Because god knows I love sexual tension. >.>

Okay, enjoy!

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“You look calm today.”

I looked up from the stress ball I was playing with, not squeezing it but simply throwing it from hand to hand. I tipped my head quizzically.

“Do I?” I didn’t feel as angry as I usually did when entering this room, but I didn’t know if calm was the right word to describe it.

Mrs. Mavis nodded. “You’re usually very tense, but today you seem relaxed. That’s a good sign.” She sat in her chair across from me as usual and her lips stretched into a wide grin. “Has anything good happened lately?”

“Nothing really out of the ordinary.” I decided not to mention Ethan. I didn’t want to voice my suspicions about him too soon, and if I started I wouldn’t be able to stop. “I guess I’ve been focusing more on school and work lately. And reading.”

“Those are things that make you happy, right?” When I nodded, her hand flew to the pad of paper in her hand to scribble a few words. “Doesn’t that seem strange to you? Most people your age are more focused on their social lives than their obligations.”

“I suppose when you don’t have a social life, it’s easy to think of things like that as more than obligations,” I said, annoyance creeping into my voice. “The closest things I have to friends are at work and in my books.”

“Tell me more about that,” Mrs. Mavis said, laying her pad of paper flat on her lap. “About the feeling you get when you read. You’ve mentioned it a few times, but we’ve never really delved into it.”

I studied the small yellow stress ball in my hand, trying to think how best to answer. It easily fit into my palm, so much that if I made a fist it disappeared. There were a few small rips in the bright surface, and I could see orange fluff underneath, the substance that allowed it to be brutally handled and still keep its round shape. The remains of a faded smile etched in black were still on its surface, the oval eyes reminding me that Mrs. Mavis was still waiting for my answer.

“It makes me feel…whole,” I answered hesitantly. “Like a part of me I lost has come back to me. As soon as I start reading, the world around me just fades away, and suddenly I’m in the middle of this place where I don’t have fits and people actually like me. I get to do things I would never get to do in the real world, the things I feel I was born to do.”

“Is it difficult to discern the stories you read from reality?” Mrs. Mavis asked. “Do you sometimes bring these elements into the real world?”

“No,” I said with a bitter smile. “The minute I put the book down I know exactly what’s real and what isn’t.”

“You don’t seem too happy about that,” my therapist noted.

“Would you be?” I asked honestly. She didn’t answer.

“How long has it been since your last fit?” she asked. The air of friendliness she had taken on when she entered the room was gone, replaced with her professional face. If not for her inane ability to switch into such a cold person, I might have actually liked her. She took her job much too seriously.

“Three days,” I answered, grimacing at the memory. It had been in the grocery store, when I’d gone shopping with mom. I broke a few jugs of milk, and one of the freezers needed a new door. It had cost a fortune to pay for.

“Would you say it was violent in nature?” Mrs. Mavis asked, pen poised over her paper.

I chuckled humorously. “You could say that. I didn’t hurt anybody, though,”

“Did you want to hurt anybody?”

I hesitated, surprised by the question. “I wouldn’t…”

“But did you want to?”

The answer sunk my spirits. “Yes…”

Mrs. Mavis scribbled more on her pad of paper. When she looked up, she was peering over the top of her glasses, straight into my eyes. “This violence of yours must come under control before you do serious damage to yourself or others. You know this, right?”

I nodded mutely.

“Then I cannot understand why there has been no progress.” Mrs. Mavis sighed in exasperation. “I know you’re not a bad kid, Barlie, but you cannot just push this under the rug and pretend it doesn’t exist.”

“I know,” I said through gritted teeth, my temper rising. “Do you think I’m not trying? It’s not something I can control.”

“You can control it,” she said firmly. “It is a part of you, and you can destroy it if you so choose. You can get rid of it the minute you realize that it is able to be gotten rid of. All you need to do is try, and stop hiding behind it.”

“I can’t!” I exclaimed, feeling hot tears in place of the anger I expected. “I can’t do it. Not alone. I can’t face it alone.”

“You’re not alone.” I saw her hand reaching for mine and snatched it away.

“I might as well be,” I said coldly.

I felt better leaving the session than I had most. I hadn’t smashed or broken anything, and I had no external wounds. I even left at the designated time, instead of leaving early and walking home. I smiled in relief as I saw my mother’s van waiting in the parking lot. I jumped into the passenger seat and flashed a grin.

“Today went well,” I lied. No day ever went well in therapy. “When did you get here?”

“About five minutes ago,” my mother said, starting the car and pulling out of the lot. “I waited until the last minute just in case you left home early again. I’m glad you stayed the whole time this time, Barlie.”

“Yeah…I guess I was just in a calm mood today.” My grin faded to a small smile. “So, what’s for dinner tonight?”

“I was thinking fish, but I don’t know if we have quite enough for everyone.” She shrugged. “If not, I’ll wing it. Oh, we’re having a guest tonight.”

“The Newtons again?” I groaned. Mom seemed obsessed with spending time with them. I guess it was hard to let go of old connections.

“Just one,” she chuckled. “Their son, Ethan. Lizzie invited him over after school, and apparently he okayed it with his family to stay the whole weekend. I said it was okay as long as Lizzie kept him out of your father’s affairs. Those two have become so close.”

“He’s…staying the weekend?” I frowned. “You don’t think that’s a bit weird? I mean, how do we know Lizzie’s not doing weird stuff with him? Just because he’s your friend’s son doesn’t automatically make him a good guy.”

Mom cast me a strange, sidelong glance. “I don’t think he’s interested in Lizzie like that,” she said slowly. Before I could ask why she thought that, we were pulling into the driveway.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and went to throw it in my room. There was a brand new mattress laying on a box spring on the floor. No frame, since I had damaged that too much to repair, but it was fine. At least it was a bed. At least I didn’t have to sleep on the couch anymore.

After ditching my stuff, I feigned my way toward the kitchen, stopping in front of Lizzie’s open door. She and Ethan were both sitting on her bed, watching some movie I didn’t recognize. I knocked on the door frame to get their attention.

“Hey,” I said, grinning for the second time that day. “Mom left your door open.”

“Again?” she groaned. “I told her we were just watching a movie. I swear, she must not trust me.”

“I guess not,” I agreed. I glanced at Ethan to find him staring at me. He quickly glanced away when our eyes met. “Mind if I join you?”

“If you promise to be nice,” Lizzie said.

I chuckled. “When am I ever nice?” I asked, shutting the door behind me. I took a seat in her cushy beanbag chair and focused on the TV screen.

I couldn’t tell what was going on, probably because I had come in at the middle of the story, but everyone was singing about this and that and there was blood and guts everywhere. Despite that, it seemed almost pleasant, though the dark tinge to every scene seemed to be trying for something completely different. I found myself intrigued despite myself. I’d have to watch this from the beginning.

When the movie ended, I asked, “What was that?”

“Repo, the Genetic Opera,” Ethan answered, retrieving it from Lizzie’s DVD player. “I brought it over so Lizzie could watch it. It’s pretty good.”

“I’ll say,” I agreed. “Any chance I could borrow it sometime?”

“Sure,” Ethan said, grinning at me. “Here, catch.” He tossed me the DVD case. “Get it back to me whenever. I can lend you the soundtrack some other time if you want.”

“That sounds great.” I set the movie down beside me. “So I heard you’re staying all weekend.”Ethan blinked at the abrupt change in subject.

“Yeah,” he said hesitantly. “Is that okay?”

“You don’t need his permission,” Lizzie pointed out. “You’re my friend and even if he hates it, you’re staying.”

“Don’t have an aneurism, Liz,” I teased. “I wasn’t saying anything against it; mom just mentioned it on the ride home. Chill out.”

“Yeah, well, with the way you’ve acted, it just wouldn’t surprise me if you thought it was part of some evil plan or something,” she grumbled.

“Hey, I’ve been nice,” I said, holding my hands up defensively. “Just ask Ethan.”

“He’s right,” Ethan said, jumping back into the conversation. “He hasn’t said a single mean thing to me since he apologized, Lizzie. You don’t need to worry so much.”

What Ethan didn’t know was that I was only being so nice because of my plan. My previous plan of scaring him had worked beautifully, but unfortunately it set my own sister against me and I got no definite information out of it. This new plan, however, just might have been my ticket into revealing Ethan for what he was. I was going to pretend to be his friend, and get closer to him in the hopes that he might inadvertently confess something I could use. Unfortunately, this meant not telling my father about my suspicions, but it was probably better to have hard evidence before I reported what I knew. He was going to be so proud.

One thing I couldn’t understand was how nobody else had seemed to notice it. Lizzie flat-out didn’t believe me, and my father made absolutely no indication that he even suspected a thing. Ethan had everyone fooled into thinking he was just a normal, gawky teenager, but it was that normalcy that made me sure of what he was. Nobody acted as carefully as he did, as guarded as he did, unless they had something to hide.

My father had told me a long time ago that some vampires had special powers, ones that normal humans couldn’t possibly hope to comprehend. I suspected that Ethan’s special power was to appear completely normal, or at least to create the illusion of it. I couldn’t see any other explanation. It wasn’t a terribly exciting power, but it seemed to be proving very useful for him.

“So, Barlie, where were you today?” Ethan asked innocently. My sister and I immediately tensed. I didn’t want him to know about that part of me, but what could I tell him? If I changed the subject, it would look like avoidance.

“I was at…um…”

“The Fantasy Club at school,” Lizzie interrupted quickly. “They meet every Friday, and Barlie goes all the time.” I shot her an appreciative smile.

“Wow, that sounds cool,” Ethan said, seemingly fooled by the lie. “I wish there was something like that at my school. Maybe I could come visit sometime?”

“They really don’t like students from other schools attending meetings,” I said hurriedly. “Sorry, club rules.” Ethan looked downtrodden, but I gave a small sigh of relief. It would have been disastrous if he’d found out about my anger issues. Sure, I was pretending to be friends with the guy, but that was so I could find out his secrets, not so he could find out mine. I’d have to be careful with my temper around him. If I ever let him see it, he’d have a weakness against me that I’d never be able to take back.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, making the three of us jump.

“Dinnertime,” my mother said. “Come get it if you’re hungry.”

We all clambered out of the room, Ethan glancing at me as he passed. I flashed him a fake smile, but not before I saw the curiosity in his eyes. So the lie hadn’t fooled him. He may not have known what the truth was, but he suspected something. I would have to be extra careful if I wanted to keep him in the dark.

Forcing myself to relax, I slowly made my way into the kitchen to eat my dinner with my mother, my sister, and my worst enemy.
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Normality