PREMISE:
Edward and Bella had been best friends since elementary school. High school comes along, Bella becomes the "it girl," while Ed is labeled the loser who can't seem to do anything right. Edward disappears unannounced for two years and returns senior year a masterpiece. Chiseled, intelligent and incredibly sexy, he piques everyone's interest...
Every dog has its day.
RATED-MA / Disclaimer: I own no rights to the Twilight saga, however the plot belongs to me.
CHAPTER 1 | CHANGES (FOR THE BETTER)
EPOV_
I grab a school newspaper and take a bite out of the apple Em's mom packs for him every day that he insists on never eating.
"Fuck apples, fuck doctor visits," he rants, "I just know every time I eat one of those things I STILL end up in the doctor's office. The riddle lies!"
"Well, not only do you wrestle, play football and rugby— you also enjoy finding very arbitrary ways of risking your life," I point at the brace on his right arm, "like jumping off of moving trucks." Long story.
"Good point," he nods in agreement.
My eyes flit back down to the paper and scan it as we walk through the hallway. It's the end of freshman year, and we're one period away from summer. This is Emmet's free period but I'm moseying over to Debate. Lucky me!
However, I do share this class period with my only other friend, which is the only positive thing about it. It's run by at least three of my many oppressors whom will tell you I'm a social risk because, I don't know, I actually have a brain? And a few other things we won't get into right now.
"You see this?" I turn the paper to show Em.
"Freshman Cheerleaders Give an Insider Look Into Their Daily Lives," he reads aloud.
"Why is this news? I would expect the front page to talk about Angela Weber's invitation-only trip to Google's headquarters or, you know, something less vapid. I'm sure a day in the life of Bella Swan or one of her minions isn't much different than anyone else's," I spout.
"Except for the fact that she probably chants 'Give me a D' more than the most of us," Emmet guffaws, "I dunno man. That's just the way the cookie crumbles here at FH."
He was absolutely right, Forkston High School (FH, for short) is unique in a multitude of ways. Firstly, everyone calls it FH— and no, that's not pronounced "F.H."
Everyone is so cool here that the cool way to refer to the school is an airy sound achieved by cooly affixing your top row of teeth onto your bottom lip and releasing a brief, aloof exhale.
Nope, I'm not lying.
Furthermore, it is the largest high school in the greater-Seattle metropolitan area, at about 10,000 students total. The five other schools top out at around three or four thousand. The reputation we carry insists that we are the best of the best, but it's empty merit. Clearly, if these are the best headlines we're coming up with.
Don't get me wrong, academically we are a top-tier school. We dominate in pretty much every sport (except for Squash, but we're making a comeback). We're also among some of the most privileged and accomplished Washingtonians, which is great, but as far as cunt-per-capita— we're a little too high. There's a strict set of social guidelines everyone chooses to follow (set by who we call the de Rigs), and I kinda don't care so... that's why I'm not in the "cool club." My two friends are though, so I still revolve in their vicinity, I'm just considered an "outsider." But I deal! I genuinely love Emmet and Jasper, we've become brothers.
Although our pace was as leisurely as can be, we inevitably arrive at my hall so I begin mentally preparing myself for this one, final class.
"See ya," our knuckles touch and we split off.
"Laters, man."
I walk into the classroom and sit next to Jasper. He immediately starts going over the game plan for tonight.
Tap tap, I feel on my shoulder.
Ugh, Rosalie Hale. We'll call her Minion One. She's 1/3 of FH's Queen Bee Clan. Alice Brandon, Minion Two, is standing haughtily beside her.
Why is she tapping on my shoulder? I accidentally bumped into one of them earlier, so I presume it's to bitch about that.
I turn around and force a smile.
"Hi there, ladies," I offer quite politely, if I do say so myself.
"Don't speak to me," Rosalie responds coldly, reaching past me to hand Jazz a slim, golden envelope. She smiles at him, "There's an end of the year party going on at Alice's tonight. You should totally come," she glances at me and then back to him.
"No plus ones," she adds. I hear someone snicker across the room. Bella. Of course. The final third. She's the nicest (relatively) yet the most-feared. The most-respected and the most-buzzed about. The most-liked yet the most-hated Queen Bee and if any of that doesn't make sense, then... exactly.
Jazz looks down at the envelope, "Thanks," he smiles warmly. As they turn to walk away, he interjects.
"Excuse me, ladies," they turn back to look at him, "I think one of you may have forgotten Edward here's envelope?" he says, completely genuine. The girls turn to look at each other and then back to Jazz.
"Nope," they both shrug. The entire class breaks out into full-blown laughter. Sigh, welcome to my life.
It literally blows my mind how quickly things can change. Those ever-so-sudden feelings for your babysitter... who becomes the subject of your first wet dream. That one morning when you wake up with hair growing on your chin, and your balls a tad bit heavier. That holy shit moment when grandma's casserole actually isn't all that bad. But those are stories for another time.
I'm here to talk about my now practically non-existent relationship with Bella Swan.
We used to be best friends, and it seemed like just yesterday she'd call me in the middle of the night and we'd fall asleep on the phone together.
As we grew older, things changed. Each year she'd gotten little more hot and a tad bit bitchier. Eventually she was considered a de Rig and I was put on the blacklist.
I failed to explain this earlier, but de Rig is cool kid slang for "de Rigueur" which is an adjective (meaning "strictly required or necessary, as means to being fashionable, popular or socially acceptable) that they appropriated into a noun. On the bright side, I'm only at like Level 2 ostracization on the blacklist, and that's 'cause I'm not cool, buff, and a hair too smart. I'm a touch pessimistic, a little awkward, and objectively incapable of being hot which means...you got it! "Outsider."
Didn't hit me until one day, about a year or so ago..
[Flashback]
The bell had just rung and I'd almost forgotten!
I should check in with Bella to see if we were still on for hanging out this weekend. She was standing with two girls I'd only seen a few times before. Well, maybe this can be an opportunity to make new friends. "Hey," I smile and greet each of them. "Gross," one of them spouts. "What the fuck," says the other. They hug Bella and quickly walk away.
Well that was pleasant.
"Hey Bells, ready for the lake this weekend?" I ask excitedly, standing at her locker waiting for her to grab her books. "
Oh, hey Edward. Uh, can we reschedule that?" she questions.
"Sure.. But we planned this last month? Jet skis! Remember?"
"I know, I know. But Alice and Rosalie just invited me to their party tomorrow night! Everyone who is anyone will be there." Hm, thanks for that.
"Oh. Alright then.. Have fun at the party, I guess," I offer.
"Thanks for understanding Eddie-kins! You're the best!" she says while slapping my cheek.
"Yeah, see you around," I manage as she turns and runs off.
"Brutal," I look behind me to find a curly-haired Jasper Whitlock leaning against the lockers, a witness to my extremely pitiful rejection.
"Hey, screw you man. What do you know about girls?" I eject. "That occasionally they can be complete and total bitches," we laugh.
"Amen to that!" A new voice piped in from my left. Another guy, slightly taller and burlier than Jasper and I, comes over all smiles. "Emmet," he introduces himself, "and just a warning about the opposite species, don't call them bitches to their faces. That tends to make them hostile."
"Duly noted," I chuckle. These two seem cool enough. "Hey... You guys wanna go to the lake?"
[/Flashback]
I suppose that wasn't too bad a day. Plus, the three of us have been best friends ever since.
Anyway. Bella. Long story short, I was in love with her and she shed me like dead weight. She and her friends actively dish me torment on the daily, but hey I'm resilient.
"Well then, I'm going to have to respectfully decline," Jasper's lips press into a hard-line. The room falls dead silent. The laughter stops cold. The only audible sound is that of crumpling paper... which happened to be the gaudy invitation he was just handed.
They both look incredulous. Everyone in the room watches intently, because nosiness is standard procedure amongst the de Rigs.
"Excuse me?" Rosalie asks, intimidatingly calm. "Catch," he says before tossing the paper ball at them. It bounces off of Alice's forehead, which incites gasps and laughs.
Jazz turns back to me, "So, back to what we were talking about," he smiles as if nothing happened, "you ready for that upperclassman party tonight?"
I'm so thankful for my two friends.
I smile back and respond, "For sure," we high-five each other and both smirk.
"It's going to be way more fun than anything else shitty going on tonight. Just me, you, Em, and all the other cool Seniors."
The girls were glaring, mouths snarling and fists clenched. So, so thankful. And Jasper actually wasn't just lying for the show. Em's older brother—who is renowned for throwing kick ass ragers— is hosting a huge graduation party tonight.
"Interesting choice, Whitlock. Embarrassing us for an outsider?" Rosalie Hale was intimidating as fuck.
"There's not a shortage of decency guys. You'll get it once you give it," he says nobly.
"That's not how it works. Can't wait to tell the Ri's about this one," she threatens.
Aaron, Alex, Marcus, Kaye and Jane Volturi (see: Ri's) are a five siblings that rule FH parallel to the Queen Bees. Collectively, they all decide who's "in" or not.
"Whatever," he scoffs.
Jazz and I go on with our conversation and the dull roar of classroom chatter resumes. Throughout the class period, I'd periodically peek across the room at the girls. The first time I look, they were talking just like everyone else; you could definitely tell their ego's had taken a big hit.
The second time I look over, Rosalie and Alice are babbling on and Bella... is staring at me. However, this wasn't a normal stare. It wasn't a menacing or disgusted stare, she was deep in thought. We briefly make eye contact before she breaks it and returns their conversation.
DING! The bell rang. I make my way through the clumps of people in the hallway socializing, say a few goodbyes, start my way home.
"Summer's right around the corner," I breathe in the crisp, warm air. As I turn on my street, I hear a gruff voice behind me call my name.
"Hey Edward! Get your retarded ass over here," I turn around and lo and behold —it's Mike Newton, in the flesh.
Mike is a juvenile delinquent that lives 4 doors down from me. The last time I saw him I distinctly remember he sack-tapped me once while I was walking to the front of the class, preparing to present my Greek History project. Obviously, he got in trouble and that was the last straw with his parents before they exiled him military school for a year. So, technically, I had a hand in sending him away. But now, he's walking in my direction. Great.
"Hey, Mike! Why don't you get my cock out your mouth?" I'm a good shit-talker.
"Whoa there, bitch. Don't use that tone with me," he snatches my collar, "I wanted to tell you personally that I'm transferring to Forkston High!"
It's pronounced FH... bitch.
The confusion must've been written all over my face.
"Is that all, or?" He slaps me across the cheek.
"I wasn't finished, you fuck," he snarls, "I'm going to make each day HELL for you, and I wholeheartedly plan on ruining that sweet Swan pussy that you covet so dearly," he smiles menacingly. "I'll even FedEx you the cum I wipe off of her face."
I swat his hand away from my neck and reply bluntly. "Michael, I'm tired of your pestering and empty threats. And Bella and I are not involved in the slightest, so go have a field day playing with your hopefully infertile cum. Or," I pause for dramatic effect, "you could go do something productive and try to salvage your currently unpromising life track. FedEx yourself some goals, you fuck."
I'm not usually one to stand up for myself, but that felt really good. I almost feel like a new man. Proud, I turn around and started walking away. Suddenly, Mike grabs my shoulder. "Oh yeah?" he turns me around, and punches me in the face.
"Holy cheap shot!" I huff, and fall to the ground. He hops on top of me and wails on me. Endless jabs.
Wow. I am currently getting my ass beaten. This has never happened before. I mean, I'd figured it would one day... but I didn't think I would be so helpless to where I could have an entire conversation with myself. This is really unpleasant. How do UFC fighters do this for a living? Hm.
"You fucking pansy!" He pulls me from my thoughts and repeatedly kicks me in my ribs with all of his might. I'm struggling to breathe now. I try to grab his leg in attempts to cease the punting, but he stomps on my hands like an angry gorilla before making a kickball of my face. I feel my mouth begin to bleed. The pain is unrelenting and completely unreal.
Okay, so fighting back is a bad idea. I'll just lie here. This has to be what death feels like. Ow. Ow. Ow.
He walks away laughing, chuckling about express delivery or something of the sort. After about ten minutes of rolling around and feeling sorry for myself, I manage to get up and dust myself off. Great.
My shirt's ripped from my collar to my navel. My nose is bleeding, my mouth is gurgling blood, I've got a gash under my eye and a busted lip. He stole my backpack with my laptop and few other things in it but hey, bullies gotta bully.
Oh, don't forget the huge loogey in your hair! How nice. "Fuck me!" I curse aloud.
As I walk into my house, I'm shocked to see Dad home early. Trying to sneak past him, I tiptoe by his office and through the living room.
"What happened to you, son?" He calls out. He's not even facing my fucking direction! I walk backwards and into his office.
"FedEx," I answer honestly.
"Mrs. Anton, down the road, called." Oh fuck. Is that woman ever not looking out her fucking window? Sheesh, go take up knitting or something, old lady!
"She couldn't wheelie her ass outside and stop the kid after I screamed for help at least fifteen times?"
"Language. Pack your bags," he says ominously.
"What?"
"I said pack your bags," he reiterates.
"But Dad..."
BPOV_
"Bella! Promise me you're going? You need it. Tonight's going to be—HEY! Watch where you're going, freak." Alice starts, then snaps at some copper-haired nerd that accidentally brushes into her. Wait. Is that… Ed-weird?
He stops, "Wow, I apologize, that was totally my fault," he says completely genuine.
"Do not let it happen again," Alice spits, "fucking peasant." He starts to talk, but then bites his bottom lip and lets it go. "Pardon me, my beloved Queen Bee," he says with a curtsy before turning and walking into the classroom.
I kind of miss him. How did everything end up this way? He and I were besties.
"Your sarcasm is so amusing, jackass," Rose calls after him.
No, Bella. No. Social suicide. Stop whatever you're thinking, bitch.
Excluding Strawberry Lemonade Vodka, Alice and Rosalie are the next best friends any girl could ask for! They complete me. Everything with them is so easy-going, and they're loyal. Every girl deserves to experience the non-judgmental, unwavering love of their girlfriends, right? I never knew what I was missing out on because I'd spend all my time talking to Edward. Alice and Rose insist he's an outsider, but he's around enough. Maybe he'll outgrow it.
Not my problem.
The three of us walk into the classroom with one period standing between us and this party. One period between us and summer. After completing our final debate, we had free period so that gave us time to finish planning the party.
DING!
I finish saying my goodbyes to everyone and practically run home. I return to an pleasantly empty house, dead set on a taking an orgasmic fucking nap. Me time sounds great right now. I run upstairs to my room and hop on my bed. I begin to doze off, but am awakened by the iPhone's all-too-familiar marimbas. Alice is calling.
"Fuck yo nap!" said my social life. Its literally like having a part-time job, only all the time. Wait—does that make it a full-time job?
"Talk to me," I answer.
"Hey Bells. Rose and I are feeling like a little retail therapy. You down?" Say no more, woman. Say no more.
"See you in a few,"
"Later, doll," I tuck my phone into my clutch, slip on my oversized wayfarers and stroll out the door.
Honestly, Life is fucking great and I wouldn't have it any other way.
EPOV_
I group text Jazz and Em. I don't want them to worry.
Ed: Love you guys.
Em: HA! GAYYYYY.
J: Save the sap for the
girl whose face you'll be
sucking on tonight.
If only that were written in the stars for me tonight, fellas. I've got a flight in the morning.
A/N: There's the first chapter! Let me know what you think.
As I said in the description, this story is being rebooted. I hope you enjoy the little extra depth and revisions added to the characters and story overall.
sunlicked . tumblr . com has my character visualizations, a space for questions, easter eggs from each chapter, etc. Check it out if you're interested!