Hi guys!

This one's a bit different to After Happily Ever After. Keep in mind it's all human.

So Read and Review, you're criticism is greatly appreciated.

Everything happens for a reason. And when fate happens, look for the good in it, as it is there.

This morning I received the results for my last Math's test.
I stayed up until one, for two weeks consecutively, repudiated three party invitations and one long weekend holiday, all to study for the exam.
I knew I'd blown Mr. Gough away with my results.
He placed the paper down on my desk with raised eyebrows. I returned his astonishment with a smug grin. I looked down at the paper expecting a high marks, somewhere in the 90's range.

Instead my mouth dropped and to view the Bella-record for low.
A tiny 38% was scrawled in red across the top of the exam.

Everything happens for a reason? Look for the good in it?
Maybe it was a sign I should have accepted those invites or had a few extra hours sleep. Guess I learnt for next time.

Its okay, I'll deal with it.

Then at lunch a bird crapped all over my brand new sweater. The brand new, $200 one.

When mum asks me what I learnt at school today I can answer meaningfully, rather than grunt good and stalk away to my room.
I can proudly say, "today at school I learnt not to wear valuables to school." Or out of the house.

Finally in PE we played volleyball.
I'm failing PE so I had to make an effort this lesson.
Due to my uncanny ability to attract all the wrong sorts of attention, the first time the ball came into my range, I screeched, "Clear the floor, I got this one!"

I got it alright.
Straight into my forehead.
My legs went weak and I lost my balance, falling flat on my face.
The entire opposing team broke into hysterics, and because of my warning the entire gymnasium had seen my stack.

It okay, I'll deal with it.
Well technically, I won't be dealing with anything for the next few days.

The ball hit me so hard in the head, that when I fell I managed to knock myself unconscious. Playing volleyball.
In front of the entire grade.

So naturally, when you've got an un-coordinated moron, such as myself, who is lying completely still and has a bump on her head the size of Texas, just beginning to arise, you call an ambulance.
Correct?

WRONG!

You get Kyle Sanders, the only kid in junior year who has managed to beat Mac on level 99 (more so get to level 99) of chess (and may I add is very proud of it), who does not have a portion of skin on his face not covered over with huge pus filled acne, to perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on you!

So I was lying there, all unconscious and bruised, as I felt air pushed into my lungs and soon sucked out again.
This is odd, I thought. It's like someone's breathing for me!
So as I regain consciousness, my eyelids flutter open to see Kyle Sanders hunched over my body, lips locked to mine. He's see my eyes open and I feel something slippery slide into my mouth. EW! That something slippery is his tongue!

Kyle Sanders just stole my first kiss!
While performing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation!
Anyone else repulsed?

So when I noticed what exactly that slimy thing was I pushed him away, causing him to topple over backwards in shock, and attempted not to gag. Abruptly I sat up in shock and noticed every junior crowded around me.
Some with concerned spread across their expression, others (the majority) trying to conceal their amusement.

Soon I discovered, sitting up that hastily caused my head pound in agony. I winced and Coach Smith placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Lie down Bella, we've just called ambulance and they're on their way." He smiled gently.

Too little, too late.

Okay, by far, this is the most embarrassing and agonizing thing that's happened all day.
At this point it's safe for me to say, I'm not having a very good day.

The person who can see any good out of this situation is clearly delusional!!!

What reason could an event as catastrophic as this actually have?

The ambulance drivers arrived, with the entire junior year to witness the event, and secured me firmly to a stretcher. Then they heaved me up and threw me into the vehicle, waiting outside.

Three hours after my accident I'd been given every test available, had any place that could be prodded, prodded and had all the lumps and bumps bandaged up.
I'd been officially diagnosed with mild concussion and a broken wrist.
Mind you, the injuries were caused by my falling, not getting hit.
I couldn't even hold the person who pegged the ball in my direction culpable.

Bummer.

Anyway, who was the person who wound me up in here?
Within minutes the culprit graced my room.

"Bella? I am so sorry! I never intended to hit the ball so hard! Please forgive me!"

His voice was so velvety perfect, but my vision was cloudy, so I reached over to the bedside table and positioned my glasses over the bandages and behind my ears.

And with my vision enhanced I knew exactly what good had come out of this day.

Edward Cullen was literally drop-dead-gorgeous.
My heart skipped a few beats when he spoke my name.
His bronze, messy hair matched perfectly with his smoldering onyx eyes.

So what do you do when the hottest guy in the grade comes grueling to you, begging for your forgiveness?
Well if you were a sane, non-accident prone being, most likely you'd reply;
"Oh Edward, you've come to me in my dying hour. Sadly, the most I can offer you from my battered heart is my forgiveness.
But, the ache is too much. Sit, and grasp my frail hand, for these may be my final moments, breathing, and only you can provide the comfort I so desperately need."

Okay that's a tad melodramatic, but you get the picture.

However, if you're Bella Swan, Klutz-extraordinaire, you say,
"Ohmigod! You're Edward Cullen! And you're in my room!"
Except, it sounds like one long slurred word, followed by a pathetic sigh.

Yeah, I am so smooth.

Hope you enjoyed. If I get enough feedback, I'll post chapter 2!

Storyteller xx