A/N: This idea came to me while reading A Wrinkle In Time. I got carried away, thinking about time travel, and a plot planted itself into my head: What if? If Bella lived in a world where there were no vampires and no werewolves, but she had the power to bend time? And what if, when trying to change the past in order to save Edward, she instead sends herself to another kind of Forks, Washington, where werewolves and vampires do exist, just like in the books?
This is not beta'd, seeing as I don't know anyone that would. And this is the only stuff I have down -- I have it all in my head, but only this first chapter on computer. I just want to know if I should continue. You'd have to wait a month or so though, because I'm busy with school and such. :(
Also, I love the French language and had to put it in there, along with Italian -- but the latter serves a purpose... ;)
Reviews are very much appreciated and motivating. So, read on, and tell me what you think! :D

PROLOGUE

Time is a strange thing.

I can bend it. I can twist it and break it. I can see it. I can feel it.

And I can change it.

I closed my eyes and shifted my mind away from his suffering, away from his screams of agony. I searched with my fingers for the right feeling — the correct time.

I grasped it tightly, ready.

Another scream and my focus was lost, my hand slipping. I fell and flailed, my fingers searching for a grip.

He yelled again — but not just a cry of pain — my name.

"Bella!"

Before I could open my eyes, my stomach plummeted to my feet as I knew it would and I soared, away from his pain, his torturer.

No matter what the cost, I would save him. This was the only way.

I. AMORE

Three years.

Three years ago I'd met him for real.

I'd known him for another few years before that, but three years ago was when I really met him. Him. We were barely fourteen, starting our last year of good old middle school. He, the irresistible and simply adored Edward Masen — soccer star, amazing pianist . . . and millions of other achievements — and me, plain Bella Swan — the math geek, the science nerd. . . .

But that first day of eighth grade, we were forcefully stuck together as partners in our only class together — science. Both of us weren't too happy about it at first, and we kept to ourselves a lot of the time . . . but then one day he'd needed help with a complex lab, and I'd agreed to help him indifferently.

After I'd helped him out — which he was amazed by, insultingly — he began to question me.

And it went from there. We grew closer, becoming the best of friends. Nobody could separate us. Nobody wanted to. When we weren't in each others' presence, we were told we were glum and moody and uninterested in anything. It was obvious to everyone but us what was really meant to be.

Until I told him my hugest secret. It took me six months of talking to him, of getting closer to him, to work up the courage to just tell him.

"I am a bender of time . . . to put it less lamely, a Padrone — which comes from padrone di tempo, meaning, "master of time," in Italian — I can bend time itself. Literally."

It was more complex than that, but that was as far as I'd gotten in that moment because Edward's green eyes had been the size of oranges. He hadn't believed a word I'd said. I figured he'd been expecting something more . . . serious, and realistic. . . .

"What kind of idiot do you take me for?" he'd demanded of me. I'd opened my mouth to speak, but nothing had come out. He'd stalked away before I could've given an answer, angry at me and confused and hurt.

He'd called me two hours afterward, waking me up in the late hours of the night, apologizing but still harshly confused, exigent for "the truth". I'd told him everything was true, and he'd asked me instead to come to his house and explain.

Thankfully he'd never been a fan of the upstairs bedroom in his home, because I'd had to sneak in through his window — and I still do on occasion.

The minute I'd climbed through the window, he'd leaped up from his bed and hugged me tightly to his chest, telling me he still wasn't sure of what I'd said, but that he believed I wouldn't lie about something like that. He would take it, no matter what it was, as long as I wouldn't elaborate.

So I showed him — I'd told him to stay, saying I would fast forward five minutes into the future. He'd laughed, of course, but had responded with a, "Whatever you say, Bella."

What he wasn't prepared for was me disappearing into thin air.

I'd heard his yelp of surprise, but kept my hold on the spot of the time frame in my mind.

He'd told me that that was the longest five minutes of his life.

And then he'd kissed me.

A bender of time was a rare thing in this world — in this time. Padrones could mostly be found in the past, without so much technology and pollution. I was one of the few residing in the 21st century, though I didn't know of any others that might have favored this century as I did.

And I didn't want to leave the ones I loved — especially after I'd found Edward.

To bend time, I close my eyes and follow, feel, climb my way to the time I want. And then I hold on for dear life. I slip into oblivion and then glide to that particular time-frame and emerge into the year or decade or century of my choosing.

There have been accidents of course, but nothing drastic — then again, those that have been drastic . . . those Padrones were probably never heard from again.

One always had to be careful and completely focused on their destination. It was believed that if one was to be distracted during the process, the outcome would be disastrous — and said impossible to reverse.

--

I sighed. "Edward?" I whispered.

"Hm," he responded, staring out the window of his bedroom. He lay on the floor, resting his head on his arm, and his hair was in his vibrant green eyes. I brushed it away.

"What time is it?" He chuckled, but didn't answer. Sitting up, he tugged on the end of my sweater.

"Sit with me," he said simply.

I scooted off his bed and over to him, and felt his arm embrace my shoulders. I grabbed his other hand, searching for his watch.

"Isabella." His voice was low, flat. "You of all people should know the time," he snorted.

"I know," I grumbled, "but where's the fun in that?" Instead of looking at his watch though, I intertwined our fingers tightly.

He raised an eyebrow. I sighed again, leaning my head against my shoulder.

"It's four in the morning."

"I know."

"Of course you do." His lips found my forehead. "You need to get home, Bella." His tone was full of grief.

"I don't want to," I breathed.

"I know." He squeezed me. "But I'll see you tomorrow."

"You mean later on today," I giggled. "Still, I see your point." I stared out at the moon through his window.

"I love you," he whispered into my ear. "I always have, and always will."

"I guess that explains why you spend all your free time with me," I joked. I slithered my free hand into his hair and turned my chin toward him.

When my lips were no more than an inch from his, I murmured, "Love you more."

He closed the distance just after the last word, and my heart pumped wildly.

I was a fool. He loved me more; he'd proven it on many occasions. When had I ever, ever made it clear that I couldn't live without him? Had I ever emphasized my feelings for him, beyond those three simple words and the many heated connections that passed between us?

No, I answered myself. I moaned and pulled my face away.

"What's wrong?" he immediately asked, worried. I stared at the ceiling — somehow I'd ended up flat on the floor, his body hovering over mine — avoiding his eyes.

"Nothing," I assured lamely. Before he could question further, I pulled him back down to meet his lips with a less than convincing smile.

He eagerly discarded his worry, moving his mouth with mine.

One way or another, I'd prove to him how much I loved him.

I just didn't know how to go about it.

--

Locking the driver's door of my Chevy, I turned and faced away from Forks High School. I gazed at the clear blue sky, shocked that such a nice day could occur here in a rainy, gloomy town like Forks, Washington. I got lost in the suns warmth and barely noticed the arms that snaked around my waste. A head perched on my shoulder, and a whisper came from its lips.

I jumped slightly.

"Now what is so interesting that you couldn't see me coming?" a lovely voice teased. I'd know that voice anywhere, anytime.

I whipped my head to the side and gave Edward a chaste kiss.

"The sun's out," I said matter-of-factly. "You don't see it much, living here." My tone went sour.

I received a quiet laugh and a kiss to my jugular. "And who's fault is that?" I could hear the grin in his voice.

"Mine," I growled. "But, I wouldn't have met you if I'd never decided to come to this . . . swamp you call a town." I made a face of disgust.

"And I'm glad you did." The grin was still there, and I would bet it had grown since my little complaint. "You have to admit though, you really like it here." His nose skimmed up my jar.

"Sure," I mumbled, unable to come up with anything more clever.

After a quick kiss, we headed out of the parking lot and into the school.

I didn't have any classes with him except French II and Trigonometry, which were at the end of the day. The other three were practically agony, even with friends to talk to. I tried to focus, but decided sleeping was the best way to making the time go by in Biology—I knew I would have received a laugh from Edward. "Why bother waiting? Just skip to lunch!" he'd joked once.

But I couldn't. My complex,'freaky powers' weren't that simple.

Lunch was next, and then I could really start my day — with him.

Sleep evaded me, but my friend, Mike, couldn't take a hint.

"Hi, Bella!" he crowed cheerfully, oblivious to my morose mood.

"Hey," I said unenthusiastically, glaring at my clasped hands resting on the table.

"What's buggin' ya?" he pressured, slapping his Biology book onto our table. "Nice days not your thing or something?"

"Shut up, Mike."

"I was just askin'." But he sat next to me with a grin. I guess he was used to this.

At least he was entertaining. "What's this thingamajig?" he asked me at one point, gesturing with his pencil at something in his book.

I laughed. "A cephelapod. You should know that by now. We also learned this back in middle school."

"Er . . . I think I'll stick with 'thingamajig'," he stammered.

"Or maybe just think of it as an octopus?" I suggested.

"Is that what it is?" His eyebrows skyrocketed.

Before I could answer, that bell rang and he bolted out the door with a, "Bye, Bella!" I shook my head. Men, I snorted mentally, and headed toward the cafeteria. What's with them and food?

Glancing around the lunchroom, I spotted Edward's bronze hair and my musings were cut short.

"What's on the menu?" I asked as I arrived at his table. The second I sat down next to him, his free arm wound itself around my waist. I rested my hand on his knee under the table and glanced at his food. It looked disgusting.

Regardless of its nasty appearance, he shoved in spoon-full after spoon-full into his already-full mouth. I made a face and gagged, getting a poke in my side in return.

"Don't you already know?" teased Alice, one of our most closest friends. Today she was sporting a trendy French bonnet, her short black hair tucked neatly under it. "Or do you need to rewind to me telling you yesterday to pack a lunch?"

I groaned — of course I'd forgotten! But I wouldn't go back just to change a stupid decision like that.

"I'm fine. I'm not even hungry." At that moment, my stomach growled. Alice laughed, and I rolled my eyes, defeated.

"Here," she said, stretching across the table to hand me a brown paper sack. "I figured." She began searching the cafeteria for Jasper, trying to hide her smug smile.

"Thanks, Alice," I said gratefully, digging into my lunch. Before taking my first bite, I reached around Edward and stole one of his earphones.

"I love this song," I said with a smile.

I got a peck on the lips and a chuckled, "I love you," in my ear from him.

I kissed him again and rested my head against his neck, eating the banana from Alice slowly.

"You always beat me to it," I said abruptly.

"What is 'it', exactly?"

"'I love you.'"

"I love you, too," he said, a smile forming on his lips.

I met them with my own quickly. "No! I mean, you always say it first." I frowned. "I guess I never . . . know when it's the right moment."

He shook his head. "Anytime is the right time," he assured. I gave him a smile, and he winked.

"I love you," we said simultaneously, and then laughed.

He nuzzled my cheek. "With every fiber of my being," he whispered.

"Oh, cut the cheese," I scoffed. He smiled against my skin.

--

Breaking free of the school's doors, I made my way into the parking lot towards my truck.

I heard quiet footsteps behind me, and suddenly, I squealed, twisting away from the hand poking at my side.

"Emmett!" I cried breathlessly at the big, curly-haired man standing before me. "You know I'm horribly ticklish!" I received a dimpled grin and a gentle jab to my abs. I ran over to Edward, who was standing by his Volvo.

"Protect me," I giggled, hiding behind him, desperate. I peeked over his shoulder.

Emmett was gone. I sighed in relief.

Suddenly, Edward spun around, gripping me tight again his chest. His eyes bored into mine, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, stretching up onto my toes, hoping for a kiss. . . .

Right as his eyes began to close, I felt another poke, right on my spine. I jerked again, forward into Edward, and the action made me gasp. We were almost eye to eye, my feet dangling half a foot from the ground—

His lips crashed down on mine and he constricted his arms around me tighter, spinning us in circles. I laughed into his mouth and he took advantage of my open lips—

"Get a room, you two," laughed Rosalie, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. I broke away from Edward and glared at her. Her head was leaning on Emmett's shoulder, her blonde hair cascading down onto his chest.

Edward lowered me back to Earth and loosened his hold. "You are wonderful," he said, and his musical laughter filled my ears. I felt my cheeks warm.

He kissed my nose and laughed again. "Vous me stupéfiez."

I chuckled. I amazed him? I scrunched my nose. "Je t'aime," I sneered.

"Ah, français," he sighed with a smile. "The language of love."