2/07/09 - I have not abandoned this story--I intend to continue as soon as I am able. I do work full time and am taking three graduate-level classes, so my time is severely limited right now. Please understand, I will get the next chapter out as soon as I have the time.

Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight.

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"And we're back! It's now 6:00am and looks like another beautiful, balmy day here in Chicago; temperatures should reach the high seventies by this afternoon, which should make for a great first day back to school for all you students out there."

Groaning, I reached over and switched the alarm clock off, wishing I hadn't set it to the radio instead of the blaring alarm. The morning DJs in the city were far too chipper for this hour, and hearing that it was going to be amazingly gorgeous outside today was not helping my reluctance to get out of bed. A whole day, stuck inside a sweltering high school with hoards of teenagers whose only wish was for school to hold off starting for just one more day? Yeah, that sounded like loads of fun.

I turned over, hoping I could catch just a few more minutes of sleep—but instead of rolling towards the wall, I rolled right out of bed and hit the hardwood floor of my bedroom with a loud crash. OUCHfuckfuckfuck. I still wasn't used to my new apartment and or the new bedroom layout and I was pretty sure there were going to be bruises sprouting up in unfortunate places before long.

"Okay, Swan, quit being a ditz and get the hell up off the floor." Talking to myself was probably not going to win me any awards for sanity, but it at least got me back up on my feet and stumbling towards the bathroom. After a shower and a fresh change of clothes, I felt slightly more human, though I still needed coffee to complete my morning routine.

Thankfully, my father had gifted me with an absolutely ridiculous coffee maker as one of my going-away presents, so there was fresh coffee waiting for me in a travel mug when I finally made it into the kitchen. I think Charlie was secretly trying to make up for all the mornings of bad, cheap instant coffee I'd drank at home while I was in high school. I was certainly ready to forgive him for that if it meant all I ever had to do was set the timer and fill the machine with water and coffee before I went to bed.

Clicking the lid onto the travel mug, I grabbed my messenger bag off the counter where I'd set it the night before, double-checked that my keys, cell phone, and wallet were inside, and then headed out the door. It was still only about 6:45 or so, but I had a long commute on the Red Line to look forward to, and it would be better to be extremely early than slightly late for the first day of classes. I'd already been at St. Martin's for almost a week, helping the head librarian get everything together before school began, but today would be our first day with the students and I was hoping to not make a complete ass of myself.

St. Martin's was a private high school in downtown Chicago, just a block from the north edge of the Loop, right on the river. I'd been ridiculously lucky to get this job straight after I finished my master's degree—it paid more than double what I'd been making at home, and they hadn't cared about my lack of experience. I was only a library assistant, which meant that I'd spend most of my time checking out books to the students and shelving the returns, but anything was an improvement from the sporting goods store I'd been working at in Forks every summer since high school.

So far, I was pretty pleased with my new position. Mrs. Jackson, the librarian, had been very kind to me since my arrival; she was widowed and without children, so I had the feeling she was going to mother me as much as she could, which was fine since my own mother was too scatterbrained to remember she had a daughter most days. And I'd made one very amusing friend on my very first day—Alice Whitlock, the college prep counselor.

Of course, I was ridiculously shy and nervous at the daunting task of making new friends. I hadn't talked to anyone on my first day except Mrs. Jackson and Alice, who had nearly jumped across one of the tables to introduce herself in the staff lounge. I still didn't know quite what to make of the tiny, bubbly woman, who immediately insisted that we were going to be great friends and invited me to dinner with her husband that evening.

As nervous as I had been about Alice's enthusiasm, I was equally put at ease by her husband Jasper, a tall blonde Southern gentleman who treated me with gentle courtesy even as Alice bounced around us in glee. It was clear from the moment I saw them together how in love Alice and Jasper were, and it made me more than a little wistful for the day that I would find that kind of happiness with another person.

Our dinner (made by Jasper, who was a surprisingly talented cook) was spent in easy conversation, and I found myself opening up to my new friends as we talked about our childhood, college experiences, and occupations. Jasper was an actor and was starring in a production of Shakespeare's Hamlet, which was scheduled to open at the beginning of October. Having always been a fan of Shakespeare's work, I readily accepted his and Alice's invitation to attend the show on opening night, since Alice had an extra ticket.

The Whitlocks lived just one stop down the Red Line from me, and Alice demanded that I visit as often as possible. From her enthusiasm, I gathered that she didn't have too many friends in Chicago. I'd enjoyed myself at dinner and genuinely liked the quirky pixie-like Alice, so I doubted I'd have much trouble agreeing to her promise. I knew no one else in the city and it was nice to have a friend, especially one as cheerful and kind as Alice.

Shaken out of my reverie by the call of my stop, I gathered my things and left the train, trying not to bump into anyone as I made my way through the crowds of commuters, up the stairs, and out into the bright sunlight of a warm September morning. St. Martin's was only two blocks away from the L stop, in a tall stone building on the edge of the Chicago River. I loved the architecture of the old building, so different from the modern steel and glass skyscrapers around it, a perfect balance between modern convenience and antique charm.

Nodding to the building security guard as I walked through the glass doors, I swiped my pass and made my way to the elevators, speeding up to catch one before the doors closed. Ignoring the crush of people around me and the dull musak that filtered through the speakers, I left the elevator on the sixth floor and walked down the marble-tiled hall towards the wooden double doors that were the entrance to the school.

"Morning Miss Swan." To my left, the school security guard, Tyler, gave me a nod and a smile. Ever since my first day, Tyler had made it a point to say hello and goodbye to me each day; Alice thought he had a crush on me, but it was probably just simple courtesy. I smiled in return, giving him a little wave before pushing through the door. A wave of sound hit me and I stopped, staring at the hallway full of teenagers with sudden apprehension.

Mrs. Jackson had said it would only take me a few weeks to learn all the students' names. St. Martin wasn't a large school, but the swarm of chattering teenagers that filled the hallways made me nervous as I walked past them. What if they didn't like me? I didn't want to be that teacher, the one the students all secretly hated, though I wasn't sure why they would have a reason to. I tried to think back to high school and the teachers I'd disliked. Surely there had been a real reason I—

CRASH

Suddenly I was on the floor and staring at the ceiling, my right arm throbbing painfully. I heard a groan from beside me and turned my head to the left, catching the gaze of a gorgeous, bronze-haired man who was scowling at me fiercely, as though I'd just mortally offended him by my clumsiness. I could hear giggling all around us and felt my face turned red as I realized I must have bumped into someone and caused us both to fall, right in front of all the students.

"Sorry, sorry," I muttered, trying to climb to my feet without stumbling more than necessary. The man just continued to scowl, gathering up the papers he must have dropped when I ran into him. Feeling even more like an ass, I offered him my hand to help him to his feet, which he ignored, standing on his own.

"Are you okay?" I tried a slight smile, trying to decide if he was a student or a teacher—he looked almost too young to be teaching. But then again, so did I, so it was entirely possible this was someone I hadn't met during orientation. I opened my mouth to speak again, intent on apologizing once more but the young man spoke first, cutting me off.

"I'm fine. Watch where you're going next time." His tone was curt, almost furious, and I found myself gaping at him as he walked away. More than a few of the female students were staring at his retreating form as well, whispering and giggling to each other. Apparently, whoever he was, the girls at this school liked him a great deal.

Well, that's a good way to start the day. Sighing, I made my way to the library, with only a few minutes to spare before classes began. Since the library was only used during study periods by students and faculty, we wouldn't have anyone until at least the second period of the day. That meant I had more than enough time to spend thinking about what had just happened and the strange, bronze-haired man.

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Thankfully, I survived my first two study classes without incident—since most of the students didn't have homework yet, very few of them needed books. This meant I spent most of the period thinking about Bronze Hair (my mental nickname for him, since I had nothing else to go on and I felt rude calling him Asshole, even in my head) and amusing myself with all sorts of scenarios involving an apology of some kind, since he was obviously still angry with me.

Third period, I had the pleasure of meeting the school's football coach, Emmett Cullen, who had wandered into the library looking for one of his players. At first I'd found him intimidating, being so much larger and louder than I was, but it turned out he was also good friends with Alice and an absolute teddy bear. We spent a good twenty minutes chatting while he waited for his football player to arrive. He'd played football for the University of Florida for four years before graduating with a degree in Athletic Training and had come to St. Martin's to coach football after a recommendation from one of his old UF coaches. He also taught gym and health classes for the upper grades, between coaching sessions.

After Emmett had left the library, his wayward player in tow, I had only lunch to look forward to. Alice had called me the night before and made me promise to meet her in the staff lounge, luring me with the promise of leftovers from another one of Jasper's home-cooked meals. I could cook fairly well, having done so since I was a teenager, but not having to pack a lunch this morning when I already had a million things to think about had sealed the deal. Besides, it would be nice to eat lunch with someone I already knew and not worry about trying to make awkward small talk with my colleagues.

When the bell rang, I told Mrs. Jackson I was going to lunch and made my way to the staff lounge. Unsurprisingly, Alice was already waiting for me, bouncing in a chair at a table near the far end of the room. Several small containers were open in front of her, the smell making my stomach rumble in hunger: mashed potatoes, corn, and baked chicken. I would have to thank Jasper again for the trouble of making extra food for me, since it was obvious there was more than enough for both Alice and I to share.

As I sat down next to Alice, she immediately handed me a paper plate, told me to dish up, and launched into a tale of something funny Jasper had done at rehearsal the night before, all without taking a breath. Only half-listening, I nodded in all the right places as I filled my plate with potatoes and chicken, debating with myself whether or not I should have any corn.

A flash of bronze caught my attention out of the corner of my eye and I turned in my chair, seeing my hallway crash victim walking into the staff room, looking irritated. He's pretty handsome when I'm not throwing myself into him at top speed, I thought, then scolded myself for my foolishness. No, no, not handsome, don't even think about that.

"Who's that?" I asked Alice softly, not taking my eyes off Bronze Hair, who was now standing on the other side of the staff lounge. He was talking to Dr. Wheaton, the dean of students, and kept gesturing quickly with his hands, looking more and more irritated by the second. Apparently, irritated was his normal state of being.

Alice followed my gaze and grinned broadly. "That's Edward Masen—he's one of the music teachers. Plays piano like a dream, and teaches it pretty well."

"The piano?" Curious, I tried to get a better look at his hands—his fingers were long and delicate-looking; perfectly suited to a pianist. "He teaches piano here?"

Alice nodded. "Piano and musical composition. He used to play for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, before Dr. Wheaton offered him a position here. He's also single." She smirked, raising her eyebrows suggestively. "And he gives private lessons."

"Alice!" Unable to help myself, I blushed. The thought of Alice trying to set me up with someone like Edward Masen was absurd, to say the least. Besides, he looked like the aloof, brooding artist type, and I knew he was a jerk. I wasn't sure I was up to that sort of challenge. Nor was I interested. At all. Even if he was fairly attractive.

"What? Edward is a nice guy. A little…intense sometimes, but he's really sweet once you get to know him." She gave me an innocent smile and grabbed my hand, almost yanking me forward as she started to cross the room. "Come on, I'll introduce you."

"No, Alice, wait—" But it was too late. I was standing in front of Edward, who was looking at Alice and I with the same scowl he'd worn earlier, obviously not pleased to see us. We'd interrupted his conversation with Dean Wheaton, and the older man had slipped away from us with an excuse about needing to talk with one of the other teachers, leaving the three of us alone in the corner.

"Yes, Alice?" Oh God, his voice was as lovely as I had remembered. Pull it together, Bella. Seriously. He was an asshole to you for no reason, remember?

"Edward, this is Bella Swan, she's Mrs. Jackson's new assistant in the library. Bella, this is Edward Masen, the piano and composition instructor." Alice was nearly bouncing now, grinning from ear to ear as she waited for one of us to say something to the other.

"We've met," I mumbled, hopefully too softly for either of them to hear. I hadn't counted on Alice having superhuman hearing however, because she turned and looked between me and Edward, raising one delicate eyebrow.

"Oh?" She looked at me expectantly, and to my horror, so did Edward. Was it my imagination, or did he also look amused now, rather than irritated? It must have been, because when I looked again, he was still frowning.

"In the hallway this morning." At that moment, I wanted nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow me whole. This was absolutely humiliating, and I was going to murder Alice later. Hopefully Jasper would understand my justification. "I ran into him."

Edward's lips quirked upwards in a half-smile that made something in my stomach clench in a painfully good way. The frown returned just as quickly, and he almost spat out his words. "Quite literally. For a tiny thing, you're very heavy."

Alice's mouth opened in a tiny little 'O' of surprise as she continued to stare at me. "Bella, you didn't say anything about—"

"Bella!"

Saved! I turned and smiled brightly at Emmett, who was making his way across the room to us. He grinned and threw an arm around my shoulder, nodding in hello to Edward and Alice. "Survived the first half of the day, huh?"

Dwarfed by the larger man, I nodded, trying my best not to look at Edward right now. This was so not how I'd pictured spending my lunch period. I had half a mind never to eat in here again, if this was going to happen. "I'm fine, Emmett."

"I wouldn't say that. She ran over Edward in the hallway." Alice said, obviously way too amused by this information. Traitor, I thought bitterly, as Emmett's booming laugh echoed in my ears. To my surprise, Edward glared at Emmett as though he'd done something wrong. Emmett, completely oblivious to his reaction, squeezed my shoulders with a grin.

"Well, it could have been worse. At least it was Edward and not the dean or someone important." He chuckled at his own joke, which made Edward scowl even more, if that was possible.

"Thank you, Coach Cullen." Edward glanced down at the silver watch on his wrist. "I've got to be going." With that, he turned away and headed for the door at a quick pace, almost as though he wanted to run from us. I couldn't help it—I actually felt hurt by Edward's cold attitude towards me. Was he really going to hold a grudge over what happened this morning, or was that just how he treated everyone?

"Bella?" I looked down to see Alice's worried face, all trace of her earlier amusement having vanished. "Don't worry about him, he's just a jackass to everyone he doesn't know. I'm sure he'll get to know you better and then you'll be friends." Her smile returned, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. "You'll see!"

"Let's just finish lunch, okay?" I really didn't want to dwell on the subject. Edward and I had no reason to interact during the school day, and I wasn't interested in making friends with someone who was so rude to complete strangers. "Emmett, Jasper sent food along with Alice—you can have some of mine, if you want."

"Jasper's cooking? Oh hell yes!" Without another word, Emmett let go of me and was bounding over to the table where the leftovers were still sitting, Alice following him in a futile attempt to keep him from eating our entire lunch. My appetite had vanished, so I slipped quietly out of the staff lounge, determined to keep Edward out of my thoughts for the rest of the day.

I'm not going to let one stubborn jerk get to me. Besides, the music rooms are on the upper floors. We'll never even see each other except at lunch, and I can probably just eat outside somewhere until it gets cold.

Satisfied with my plan to avoid ever having to interact with him again, I pushed open the library doors, intending on getting some filing work done before the students came back from lunch.

The library was deserted except for Edward Masen, who was leaning against my desk, his beautiful face expressionless. "Miss Swan. We need to talk."

Shit.

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A/N: I appreciate any and all reviews--your thoughts make me giddier than Alice on a shopping spree, and encourage me to write faster! :)