A/N: This is pure nonsense and suddenly appeared in my head. What would Twilight be like if Isabella actually had a personality? Of course, she's OOC here but I find myself actually able to like this new version of Isabella and I hope you'll like it too. This will be short, maybe three chapters in total. Have a good read.

Warnings: eventual sexuality and mentions of death and shovels, lots of shovels.

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please (try not to kill me)

~ all fun and games, till somebody falls in love

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Isabella doesn't want to be in Forks (she tries to convince herself and no, just no).

There's nothing here for her (except her father, her brain argues pathetically) and the weather makes her cringe (there's rain, plenty of rain, and snow – she hates the snow). Her mother is a great mother (most days, when she's not heartbroken and eating too much ice cream and forgetting about parent-teacher meetings).

And her father is… awkward. Charlie picks her up from the airport in his cruiser (which makes her laugh and want to hide out in shame, because her dad's a cop – he's the sheriff and it's just so funny). He tries to make conversation. It doesn't work. Her mother would babble on and on. Charlie concentrates on the road (like the good cop he is). The whole ride her brain screams and laugh and cries and cringes.

Isabella is going insane.

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Charlie buys her something (it's something alright, something big and shiny and red and fucking hell, it's a truck).

And it comes with a boy inside (Isabella doesn't mind the view, not at all and look, he's bending down real low and his jeans are just tight enough). She tries not to ogle Jacob (who grins with his perfect white teeth and tanned skin and awesome jawline). She fails.

Charlie is too busy 'fighting' over the last piece of fried chicken to notice (and she loves her dad, he's so oblivious).

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She only trips one time on her way to school (it's a fucking miracle, no – really) and whatever lucky star is shining bright on top of her head makes sure she gets to school in one piece.

The school is… plain and ugly, even more than a regular school. It's small, with minty green walls that would be more suited in a dentist office and odd pictures thrown carelessly as decorations. Obviously, they gave the job to a blind person – which is okay, because they deserve jobs too (maybe not as designers).

She's a little cranky by the time she reaches her first class (whenever she closes her eyes, she still sees the flash of Eric's camera and it bugs her – very, very much). And the only empty seat left (she got lost, of course) is next to a small brunette with a pixy cut wearing a skirt make of taffeta (who even wears taffeta anymore, such a bold and tasteless fashion statement).

The brunette (the teacher calls her Alice and Alice obviously isn't paying attention so Alice doesn't even look up) doesn't even budge when Isabella takes the seat next to hers. But one thing Isabella does notice (and it takes a while) is that the brunette, Alice – you know, Alice, has golden eyes (which is weird, but good weird, not like Friday the 13th weird, it's pretty).

Isabella is still blinded by the freaking flash as the bell rings.

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Second class of the day, math, advanced math, and the school has already started gossiping about her (she's so used to blending in and no one really paying attention that she has to take a deep breath and not run for her damn life).

She meets him (no, that's not the right word; more like gawking...) she gawks at him, has to check twice to make sure there's actually such a being like this in a classroom so close to her and then drools a little (she really needs to do something about her hormones, they're killing her).

He wears blue leather pants à la James Dean, with a black unbuttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looks bored out of his mind with his golden eyes, (why do people in Forks have weird eye colours, really?) blonde hair slicked back on his skull, a small smirk printed on his lips and his hands absently placed in front of him.

He's handsome, it's the only word that she can think of – and somehow, even if there's an empty next to him (so close she's sure she would hear him blink) well she chooses the one the farthest away from him because there's another word that can describe him perfectly (you'll think she's crazy).

As she takes her seat and opens up her bag, he glances up and she knows he's taking every little detail about her, from her messy black curls to the curve of her lips to the way her brows raise up in disbelief when he flat out smirks at her with too much cockiness.

Dangerous – he's freaking dangerous.

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PE is probably her least favourite class – and volleyball isn't fun when you're so accident-prone.

She manages to hit someone with the ball, hard – on the head (and it's weird because when she apologizes, he seems to enjoy it and she's not a dominant and he looks like a masochist which is awkward, so awkward).

"You should come sit with us at lunch." She's not clueless and she knows girls like Jessica Stanley – she's staking out her territory with false smiles and too much enthusiasm.

People in Forks are weird she concludes, when Mike holds the door for her and Eric puts a camera in her face, again, while Jessica sends knives with her eyes and Angela blushes.

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"You'll catch a cold." She turns wide-eyed (which isn't a good look for her, she knows it) at the blonde next to her who added a leather jacket to his shoulders. All she wanted was a little fresh air (and to escape all the attention because she was fucking drowning in it) and somehow managed to leave her coat inside. "Here." He pushes the leather coat on her (and it's clear she doesn't have a choice in the matter).

"Won't you get cold?" It's weird when he smiles – it's disturbing.

"I don't get cold, sugar." And she knows the conversation is over when he struts back through the door and leaves her gaping (which also isn't a good look on her, but today isn't a good look on her anyways).

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She's stuck with the fucking jacket and doesn't know what to do with it. It's clearly to big for her (people glance when she walks back inside the cafeteria with the oversized jacket, but no one asks questions) and it smells clean and new, almost like no one wore it before.

It's weird; everything is just so fucked up here.

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Edward Cullen is a dick, plain and simple.

"Do I smell or something?" She snaps when he looks constipated with his shirt over his nose. She usually would keep quiet, but she's insulted, really insulted. He grunts out something that sounds like 'you wouldn't understand' and that's when she comes to the conclusion – he's a dick.

He jumps out the door when the bell rings over and she takes a moment longer to scribble down next weeks homework just so she won't catch him in the hall. She doesn't.

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"How was your first day?" There are loud noises coming from the phone and Isabella thinks that maybe leaving her mother alone isn't the brightest idea she had.

"Fine, mom." She doesn't want to talk about it. It's been a weird day and she's glad that Charlie doesn't ask questions when she barricades herself in her bedroom.

"Doesn't sound fine!" Renée practically shouts over the sounds in the background. And she's had enough, enough of this day and enough of Forks and enough of this conversation. She hangs up quickly after faking to have lots of homework, which is true. Renée clearly doesn't buy it.

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She catches a glimpse of him the next day.

Her fingers grab the leather jacket so hard she thinks she might tear it. He has another coat, a little shorter and today his shirt is white and his jeans are black. She can't help the gawking – he's just too damn perfect. She wants to go over and hand him the coat, have it done with quickly.

But Mike comes over and distracts her and when she finally gets rid of him, he's gone (her fingers are still laced on the fabric, grabbing so hard she might tear it).

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He smokes, of course he does.

She finds him exactly where he was yesterday, back pressed against the wall and cancer stick dangling from his lips – lips that look eager to swallow everything in their wake. She gets caught up in the way he brings the cigarette to his lips and almost wishes she could take its place – almost.

"You want one?" He turns his eyes towards her; a pale gold and suddenly she can't even remember why she's here in the first place. She shakes her head no and hands him the jacket.

"Thanks for yesterday." His fingers brush hers and there's a shock that runs through her body, her senses heightened and the contact lasts a minute too long. He smiles that disturbing smile of his.

"No problem, Isabella." It's weird, hearing her name uttered that way. He makes it sound good and ready to take a bite of – like an apple. She nods and turns to leave, but the sudden realization hits her in the stomach.

She doesn't know his name, but when she turns to ask it – he's vanished.

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"What's up?" She asks while sitting down, her food still untouched. Jessica and Angela turn to her with longing eyes and hints of smiles on their gossiping lips.

"The Cullens." Jessica whispers, like it's supposed to explain everything. At her blank look, Angela elbows her brunette friend and it's like she finally understands. "They usually don't eat in here." She points to the farthest table back, where a bunch of teens are sitting down.

She recognizes Edward and wants to huff, really, but then the dickhead is forgotten when her eyes catch a familiar face. "They're gorgeous and all related." Jessica's voice drops a few octaves. "The blonde girl is Rosalie and the muscled guy is Emmett." They look straight out of a magazine, a very expensive magazine.

"And the short haired girl is Alice." Alice, who wears taffeta skirts and sequins. "She's a little weird and then there's Edward Cullen." She huffs, she can't help it – she's still fucking insulted. "And the blonde one with the leather is Jasper." Jasper, her mind repeats the name over and over again. It's almost like he knows it and smirks, raising his eyes so they meet hers.

Angela and Jessica fuss a little more about them, until Mike and they boys return with pizza and soda and suddenly the Cullens are forgotten. But Jasper's eyes, well they still burn her irises.

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Her dad takes her out for supper – outside, for the rest of the world to see.

It's an old dinner, probably used to be a drive-in. The food is greasy and lacks anything healthy, but it's good enough for her and it doesn't take her long to attack her fries. When the waitress comes to say hi, her mouth is stuffed and she's aware that it looks like she hasn't eaten in a few days.

"If you want to go out with your friends, it's fine." He's referring to Mike Newton who's outside of the dinner and looking too much at her. She shakes her head, finally swallowing.

"I'm okay, dad." Heartfelt moments are so sparse between her and her dad – it doesn't last more than two seconds. Her grins into his burger and she happily puts more fries into her mouth and oh, look – ketchup.

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It's been three weeks and she's come to a few conclusions.

Edward Cullen is still a dick. Alice Cullen likes to wear frivolous clothes that are too big for her and when she talks to her in class, she sounds like her head belongs in another world. But Angela is nice and somehow, Forks is little more bearable that what she first expected.

And there's Jasper. Somehow, she always manages to find him. The first fifteen minutes of her lunch breaks are spent seeking him out and spending a few short minutes in his company. He's cocky and wears leather and she has a crush on him (which she hopes isn't so one sided). Most of the time, he smokes cigarettes and smiles (which is still disturbing, but she's used to it).

PE is finally over (she managed not to hit anyone in the had today, which is a nice feat) and when she's dressed, she waves over to Angela, but doesn't reach for the dark haired girl – not yet.

He's there; of course he is – with his blonde hair (it's not slicked back today, which is still a very good look on him), his leather coat and his cigarette dangling from careless fingers. He smiles when he notices her and his golden eyes twinkle with mischief.

"I think you and I should go out." It catches her completely off guard. People should warn you before giving you a heart attack. "On a date." She doesn't remember how to speak and her eyes, they are probably as wide as saucers – which, and yes she knows, is not a good look on her. "Well?" She's an idiot.

"Okay." That's all she can manage. He grins at her (and it's not so disturbing anymore and look, she's gaping like the true lady she is). He throws his cancer stick and stands close to her, too close.

"See you tomorrow."

It's a wonder she doesn't faint (or drop dead).

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She's never been on a date before, not with anyone she likes as much anyways, but she's pretty sure the night isn't supposed to end with four dead bodies and a shovel.

It's not so romantic, you know.

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He is a true gentleman – he has flowers in his hands on a Friday night and even introduces himself to her dad (who looks so tense for a moment and then finally manages a nod in his direction) and opens the door of his car for her and, again, she can't remember how to speak – because she's an idiot and pretty boys make her knees weak.

He takes her to a movie and buys her popcorn, its just popcorn, but he buys it and suddenly it's not just popcorn, its popcorn, you know? She only listens to half the movie, the other half is spent overanalyzing him and she likes it – this date thing with Jasper, she likes it a lot.

And then she has to go and screw it up, screw it up bad.

He leaves her outside of the theater for two minutes. She can't stay still and wonders to the shop a street farther. It's a souvenir shop; with shiny stuff and cheap presents you buy for someone when you forgot their birthdays. But it's also next to where college guys get drunk and decide to brutalize adolescent girls (that last part she doesn't know – not until one of them grabs her by her hair and another is trying to still her movements).

And then there's a growl, a lethal one and the boys, well there were four – but now they are dropping like dead flies as someone snaps their necks with too much fucking ease. It takes her a second, maybe two to glance up at her saviour, who isn't human judging by how easy he got rid of four guys in a minute.

And then he's there, standing oh so handsomely with blood on his shirt and eyes black. Jasper looks at her with a feral grin, the kind an animal would wear after eating its prey.

Her mind screams at her to run, but she's paralyzed.

Fuck.

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A/N: So... what do you think? Drop a review to let me know!