Author's Note: This is my first fanfic, so bear with me... it's a learning process. Feel free to review and share any thoughts, ideas, or comments you have. Thanks!

Stephenie Meyer owns all of the Twilight characters... I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement, and hopefully, the amusement of anyone who reads this.

BPOV

Being a vegetarian at a vegan party is much like being an Episcopalian and visiting a Catholic church – similar belief system, but if you want to be an official member of the church, you'd better convert. And if a vegetarian is the equivalent of an Episcopalian, I'm guessing I would be the Anti-Christ. I eat a cheeseburger a day, would rather die than give up my one real leather Coach bag, and I did not vote for the Green Party candidate in last year's Presidential election. In fact, I didn't vote at all. Scratch the whole "Anti-Christ" bit – my name is Isabella Swan, and according to these people, I'm Lucifer in the flesh.

I can't believe Rose did this to me again. After hours of shameless begging and groveling on her behalf, I got dragged to yet another one of these pointless parties, if that's what you'd call this. Rose works at Cleanse, an organic/vegan friendly health food store, and she always begs me to come to these little get-togethers that her friends from work arrange. They hold these shindigs at the apartment of Tanya Denali (a.k.a. Queen Tanya of the planet Vegan), discussing vegan-friendly shoes, vegan-friendly recipes, and even vegan-friendly politicians. Vegetarians are mildly tolerated, but only for a while (see first paragraph).

If these friends of hers could be anymore of a stereotype, no one would believe me. The only food and alcohol served at the party is vegan-friendly, like raw vegetables and wheat beer, and I usually have brush my teeth three times before I hang out with her coworkers because I swear they can smell cheeseburger breath a mile away. I have to make sure all my clothes are made of natural fibers (no leather, especially). I have to deal with the music playlist, which is somewhat limited since they only listen to musicians that are vegans (sometimes they listen to vegetarian artists, but they have to be "really good", whatever that means). These people are not your usual happy-go-lucky, peace-loving vegans – these people are extreme.

And even though she promised she wouldn't leave my side, Rose has left me alone to deal with Eric Yorkie, yet again.

"… and do you know who it was?" Eric asks me expectantly.

"Leonard Nimoy?" I say deadpan, losing the battle in my attempt at not acting bored.

"It was Leonard Nimoy!" he says, ignoring my answer. "I swear to God! Spock himself walked right out of Burger King," says Eric, ignoring my previous answer.

Yep, I'm going to kill Rose... right after she pays me this month's rent.

I have heard his "I met Leonard Nimoy at a Burger King in L.A." story at least a dozen times. I feel almost sorry for him. Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against Star Trek. It's an American Classic. But this is not the kind of story most girls want to hear, much less repeatedly.

"Wow. The Leonard Nimoy. Listen, have you seen Rose?" That sounded a little sharper than I wanted it to. I amend my tone and pout. "It's just that I'm not feeling too well and I'd like to go on home."

"Oh," Eric replies with a hint of disappointment. Then his head snaps up when he says, "Uh, I-I could take you home, Bella."

There's so much hope there in his eyes, it just makes it all the more pitiful. I say the only thing in the world that every woman uses as a secret weapon at some point in her life…

I lean into him to whisper, "That's sweet, but I'm cramping pretty badly and Rose drove us here in her car. I think she has some tampons in her purse."

"Oh," he says nervously. When I see Eric turn three shades of red at the mention of the word "tampon", I think to myself Bingo.

In my somewhat limited experience with men, there are three topics that have a 99.9% success rate at stopping any unwanted come-ons:

Number three

Bodily functions – Talking about menstruation, diarrhea, or vomiting is self explanatory, especially in reference to the first one. Men cringe the moment you mention you're "riding the crimson wave" so when used appropriately (or in my case, very inappropriately) you should be home free.

Number two

STD's – Hinting you might have herpes, chlamydia, or any other disease is a quick remedy to unwanted male attention, but it should only be used in dire situations in which you are out of town or in a place it won't come back to bite you in the ass.

For example, I knew a girl back in college who said she was having herpes break out to brush off a guy at a frat party and it spread like wildfire. She was never hit on again during her remaining education at UW. She tried to transfer to a couple of different universities in state, but her reputation followed. Rumor has it that fraternities have a "black list" website where girls with known diseases have their names posted. Last I heard she ended up at a bible college in Colorado where the Greek system was not allowed.

Number One

Commitment – This one is self-explanatory. The mention of the words marriage, babies, or any other suggestion of monogamy is guaranteed to have them running. Sometimes they even leave skid marks when they flee.

Eric is actually a decent guy, and I'm proud of him for even working up the courage to offer me a ride home (even though I am obviously sloppy seconds, due to his well-known, enormous crush on my roommate, Rose). But even though his intentions are honorable and I would only have to decline for him to cease making any moves, I can't bring myself to give him even the faintest measure of optimism. Grossing him out really is the kindest way. Lord knows, he's been following Rose around like a lovesick puppy for years and when given the slightest encouragement, there's no shaking him off. He may be hitting on me at the moment, but his heart has always belonged to Rosalie Cullen. In fact, I'm pretty sure she's the reason he went to the University of Washington here in Seattle with us, when I know for a fact he got in to Stanford and Berkley on full scholarship.

Rose doesn't seem to mind him following her around though. She's only ever been nice to him, which is rare for her. She even got him job at Cleanse. I think she's flattered by having a would-be stalker, not that Rose is in short supply of those. The woman is Pamela Anderson's worst nightmare – 5'8, long blonde hair, and a stacked like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model... bitch.

I have known Eric Yorkie for five or six years now, ever since I moved to Forks, Washington to live with my dad my junior year of high school. He was rather lanky, always wore the wrong clothes, didn't have a car, and of course he was one of the smartest kids in school (though his common sense factor was well below average). You would think being smart would give him a few points, but anyone who has been to a public high school knows there are two kinds of smart kids: the attractive, popular, all-American smart kids – then there's the unattractive, not-so-popular, spaz-like smart kids. Eric was in the latter group. You know, the ones that could do advanced Calculus in their heads, but would get hit by a parked car? That was Eric Yorkie; the Trekkie that couldn't eat lunch in the cafeteria without wearing it on his shirt the rest of the day.

And based on tonight's conversation and the large glop of hummus on his vegan-approved, cotton/natural fiber blend t-shirt, that fact still rings true.

My plan has worked better than I thought it would – Eric is already looking around the room for exits. "I think I saw her leave with Emmett about twenty minutes ago," he says dejectedly at being reminded that the love of his life has left with another man.

"Shit."

"Um…I have to… bye!" Eric immediately runs out of the room like a bat out of hell.

Rose, my oh so wonderful roommate, has just left me for her on-again off-again boyfriend. On odd days they can't stand each other. On even days they can't stand to be away from each other. I'm guessing today's an even day.

Rose met Emmett McCarty at Cleanse a few months back when she started working there. She made the mistake of thinking the store was some kind of bathroom accessory shop when she had seen it in the new strip mall downtown. When she spotted Emmett working at the counter, right then and there, she became a vegan and an employee of the store, though we all know she doesn't need the money. The Cullens are loaded.

Looking at Emmett and his physical perfection, I can understand the attraction. But no matter how scrumptious his body is, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't give up bacon cheeseburgers, strawberry milkshakes, or deep-dish pizza for any man. Well, maybe I would for Gerard Butler or Johnny Depp, but what are the chances of that happening?

"Rosalie Elizabeth Cullen, I'm going to kill you. And I'm going to take my time doing it. I'm talking serious torture here; possible-loss-of-motor-functions when I'm through with you." I hang up my cell phone, satisfied with my voicemail on Rose's phone.

I wait around for another hour, praying to heaven that Rose will listen to her voicemail. It's possible she already has... and there's a fifty-fifty chance that her avoidance of my wrath is the reason I'm not getting a response, not that I could intimidate her if I tried. My rage is more annoying than terrifying, according to her.

I try her cell again when I hear "Poker Face" being played somewhere in the distance. My first thought is I didn't know Lady Gaga was a vegan-approved, thinking it's coming from the stereo. Then I realize it's Rose's cell phone ringtone. I call it again, following the sound of her phone and spot it on the counter in the foyer.

I move out of the foyer and make my way to the balcony that overlooks downtown Seattle. It's still a bit noisy from all of the Friday night traffic below, but it's considerably more appealing than what's going on inside the apartment. Another bonus? If I can't get a hold of Rose in order to leave this place, I can just jump off of the balcony and be done with it all. Death by fall is preferable to one more moment with these people. I don't have Emmett's number, so I scroll down her contacts list and dial his number from her phone.

"Hello?" answers Emmett. His voice sounds breathy and I can hear Rose's throaty phone-sex operator laugh in the background. I'm glad someone is having a good time.

"Get Rose on the phone NOW."

"Uh… okay?" Emmett says a little unsteady.

One of the reasons I like Emmett is that he knows when to back down from an angry woman and do what he's told. I'm pretty sure that's why Rose likes him too, at least on even days.

I hear some shuffling on the other end of the phone and Rose answers as if she's being the one inconvenienced. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? You left me stranded in this god-forsaken place! Where are you?"

"I'm at Emmett's place," she answers as if it's the most logical thing in the world. "I'm glad you have my phone though. Don't forget to bring it home."

Is she kidding?

"Don't worry. I can remember lots of things, unlike some people. Speaking of remembering, were you planning on coming back to get me at some point this century or did you forget I existed? You promised you wouldn't leave me alone here!"

"It looked like things were going pretty well with you and Eric so I took the hint and left with Em," she says in nonchalance, but I can hear the smile in her voice.

"The hint? What hint? My suppressed gags at Eric's tofu breath or my feigned interest in Leonard Nimoy? Or was it something else that tipped you off that I was mildly enjoying myself?"I scream back into the phone.

Breathe, Bella. Just breathe. Count to ten. One, two, three, four…

A few moments of silence later and Rose asks, "You there, Bella?"

I take a deep breath. "I'm counting," I say through my teeth.

"Don't you dare start counting on me, Isabella Marie Swan!"

"Don't worry. I won't," I reply, deliberately twisting her meaning.

"You know what I mean. And by the way, I was doing you a favor!"

"A favor? You left me with Eric fucking Yorkie and his dumbass Spock story, bad drinks, worse music, and food that even my rabbit would find inedible! How is that a favor?"

"You had been talking to Eric for a while so I thought… well… you know…"

"Are you joking?"

All of a sudden she starts laughing and says, "Of course I'm joking! After Em and I split… Oh yeah, we made up by the way!" she beams.

"Yeah… I guessed," I reply deadpan.

"Anyway, so when I realized we weren't coming back, I made a call. Your ride is on the way… Em, stop! That tickles!..."

I don't even want to guess what he's tickling...

"Rose?" No answer... "Rose?" No response... "Rosalie!"

"Huh? Did you say something, Bella?" she says all breathy.

God, can they not stop groping each other for five seconds?

"Rose, focus! Who did you call?" I hear more rustling and giggling on the line. "Rose! Who is coming to get me?" I yell into the phone.

"Oh, for the love of God, Bella. Calm down. My brother is in town, and since he's a loser with nothing to do on a Friday night, he's coming to get you. He should be there any minute," she says nonchalantly.

Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod…

"Ed…" I clear my throat because all of the saliva has dried in my mouth… and I think I'm going to vomit. "E-Edward is c-coming here?"

"Sorry, gotta go Bella. Don't wait up!" she laughs. And then the line goes dead.

I stand there is utter shock and disbelief. I haven't seen Edward in more than five years and not a day goes by that I don't think about him…

So, yes, Edward will make his entrance in the next chapter and their history will be revealed. Thanks for reading (and review if you have the time).

:)