This was my entry in the anonymous "A Rebel without a Clue" contest

Summary: Peek inside Angela's inner monologue as she hangs out at the pool hall and tries to bag herself a broody. – Crack fic –

Disclaimers: I don't own Twilight but if I did there would be a ton of innuendos hidden in between the pages.

"A Rebel without a Clue"

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I will annihilate ANYONE at Tekken 2 for I am THE MASTER!

I jumped from the most awesome arcade game known to man and flexed my puny girl muscles like a champ once I beat Emmett Cullen's sorry ass... again.

Oh yeah, baby! Look at me go!

Shamelessly kissing my arms as though I was hot mega shit, I then peered or loomed or... hmmm... what would be a proper word for it? Ok, the truth is I went all To Catch a Predator and looked stalker crazy at Emmett's bad boy of a brother in his rockin' leather jacket, tattooed arm candy, and bitchin' hair.

Hi! My name is Angela and I'm in love with a rebel. The only problem is that he has NO clue that I exist.

I hang out in the pool hall after school with all the drug dealers and misfit toys. I know... That's perfectly normal, right? I know! Tell that to my parents, please! They think everyone here is just a major bad influence on my sweet innocent self. They couldn't be more wrong. Where else can I hang out that is just crawling with hot guys? And not just Backstreet Boy hotness (don't you judge me!) but totally Evil Knievel throw-me-under-him and make-me-like-it hotness. RAWR!

My mission in life is to make Edward like me. My goal is to beat Emmett's ass as many times as I can at Tekken 2 (also the only game the pool hall has that doesn't require a stick) and embarrass him enough to make Edward notice how awesome I am. I'm pretty sure it's not working considering he won't keep his tongue out of Bella Swan's throat.

So, I need to revise my plan.

After my ceremonious good taste "I beat your ass" dance was over (I threw in a cartwheel for good measure) I decided it was time to learn how to play pool. Surely that would get my bad boy future lover boy to notice me. And why wouldn't he want to notice me? How could he resist all... this.

Ok, ok... I'm not a looker, but I have a great personality. Oh, snap. That makes me sound like a porker, doesn't it?

Let me rephrase that... I'm horny, and I want Edward, and I will stop at NOTHING to get him. He will be mine. By the power of Grayskull, I will have him on my arm by the end of the day. Or so help me Bob, I'll let Emmett beat me at Tekken and live down his dance of shame. (Which between me and you... I've seen this said dance back when he beat Rosalie. It's not pretty, but the most awesome part was it ended with a knee to the nads. Awesome!)

I guess I need to learn how to play pool, but who can teach me to achieve my goal of Rebel Yell (my name bitch! Say it!)?

I scoped out the pool hall.

Let's see... there's this dude that looks like a fallen angel that seems pretty good. Yes yes... he could come in handy but he might belong to a different series. Hmms...There's a rockin' body of a wanna-be werewolf who never wears a shirt. Yes, yes... I could use him. No copyright infringement on that set of abs. And then there's Mike.

Mike?

Yeah... I hate to break it to you kids but I'm pretty damn sure I'm going to have to use the underdog to teach me how to play pool. I'm not happy about it either, but you know... beggars can't be choosers. Ok, actually we can but the problem is... If I get real picky then it will take too long and...

BELLA! Get your tongue out of my bad boy's mouth now!

Seriously... cue the Rocky music.

The bad thing with training with theme music in your head is the fact that I now have the "I need a Hero" song stuck in my head. Is that from Top Gun? Well, anyways...

I grab Mike, put my dollar on the table, and strut over to pick out a pool stick.

Seriously... I have no clue what the hell I'm doing.

The pool sticks (if you are expecting me to know pool terminology you have another thing coming. Go read about angels if you want the correct wording) are right by Mr. Dreamboat Rebel Boy and (icks) Bella. I mosey on over there because you know I just can't help myself and gracefully (yet planned) trip over my tied shoelaces (they aren't looking at my feet, people) and lunge my body towards Edward's leather-clad chest. (hoo-yeah!) I unexpectedly overshot my distance and wound up doing a face plant in Bella's (I'm pretty sure that's a water bra) cleavage.

After some dramatic screaming on Bella's part and a failed attempt on mine at trying to spring a leak in her sweater puppies, I get my stick and head back to Mike.

Yippee... BUT! He will teach me to play pool and Edward WILL notice me. Then he'll dump his Bella Babe and he'll be mine mine mine!

(Dear Reader: Please insert Tattward daydream here. Reader's Choice)

Mmmm... After a most awesome daydream, I had my stick, Mike by my side, and was learning how to break the triangle clutter of balls.

What the?

Apparently Mike thinks it's ok to come from behind and try to go all Tiger Woods in his teaching ways. Ewws! I don't think so!

After a little reprogramming (and by this I mean I went all Rosalie on his nut sac with my wooden stick) we were back in business. I was smacking that little white ball all over the place and probably looking sexy as hell in the process (oh yeah... I know I got this) when all of the sudden, my leather jacket fan boy stood up and walked over here. O-m-g! (yes... I did just think the letters. Quit judging me! Gah! First you go all hater on my love for the Backstreet Boys and now you're judging how I think? Quit distracting me so I can catch Edward and try to hit that. And by hit that, I mean have him scream my name till he's hoarse. I want to go all 'One time at Band camp' on him. Muhahahahas!)

Edward walked over here and clapped or is it clasped? Anyways… He pinched Mike's shoulder in a manly way and asked him if I was any good.

Duhs! I've got mad skillz! Of course he's going to notice. Bye bye Bella babe! The next throat Edward's tongue will be down is MINE MINE MINE!

Mike lies and tells Edward that I suck big donkey dick.

What the hell? Has Mike been looking at donkeys? I would figure their genitals would be small considering they are like little wanna-be horses.

I can only assume that he's lying through his teeth so that Edward will take pity on me and want to teach me in a preferred Tiger Woods style. (If I knew any pool player I would mention them but I don't so we're just going to have to stick with other sports that play with stick-like objects.)

You aren't going to believe this. I swear on all that is Mortal Combat Final Fatality, Edward said, "Let me have a go at her."

Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

I know I had to have peed a little but I seriously could not care less. Edward, smokin' hawt, leader of the pack was going to teach me how to play pool! Can this day get any better?

Oh snapples... I forgot about her.

Bella Water-Bra Swan wrapped her hands possessively around my broody and took a cig out of his t-shirt pocket.

Note to self: Take up smoking or wait out her tumorous death then snatch up Edward for myself.

I'm not sure I can wait that long.

After Edward took the cigarette that Bella Water-Bra Swan took out of his pocket (that was weird. I thought she was going to smoke it), he lit up, took Mike's wooden stick then started talking about ducks.

What on earth is a duck?

Woah! Wait a minute! Life just got better. Apparently a duck is when you have a leather-clad broody standing behind you trying to show you how to slightly tap a ball. Pool just got interesting!

I shot a couple of ducks, sunk a few balls (I was majorly good at sinking the white ball), scuffed the table up a bit with my stick, and breathed in Edward's bad-boy scent. I felt I had enough confidence to try my hand at wowing him with my new found pool awesomeness.

Beginning plan: Bag me a bad boy.

I excused myself to the ladies room (which was disgusting but I needed to muss up my hair and probably take off my glasses. If I learned anything from my dad, it was that boys don't make passes at girls who wear glasses).

I looked deep in the mirror, held my nose, tried NOT to look at the toilet, and gave myself the pep talk of the century.

In the words of Stuart Smalley : I'm good enough. I'm smart enough. And doggone it, people like me.

I was amped. I grabbed the germ-infested handle, swung open the bathroom door, and entered the pool hall with my shoulders back, my head held high, and a poor attempt at trying to make my boobs look the tiniest bit bigger than Bella's. (The bigger the better the tighter the sweater the boys depend on us)

Suddenly Edward didn't look unattainable. He actually looked achievable (and do-able).

I quickly walked back to the table where my leather nom and Mike stood, probably talking about how much better I look without my glasses and my new sexy hairstyle (headbanging for hours on end will get your hair EVERYWHERE!) when all of the sudden I was nose deep in a couple of fish tanks.

FUDGE!

"Don't you think I don't know what you're doing!" The water bra swayed back and forth and I had to stop myself from biting one of the water filled cups (I didn't need Edward thinking I was playing on the other team and I sure as hell didn't want Bella thinking I was into her).

"You keep your hands off my man or you're going to have to answer to me."

Whoa! Bella feels threatened! Excellent! So there is hope at bagging my leather-studded fantasy.

"Get over yourself, Swan." I figured calling her by her last name would make me appear more of a badass. "I'm not interested in your man." Sure, sure... a little lying will get you everywhere. Don't want to look like an eager beaver.

I sashayed my way back to the pool table and gave a little wink wink in Edward's direction. Considering I now was without my glasses it was hard to tell where things were but I'm pretty sure it was Edward. It could have possibly been a coatrack.

"Are you ready to play with fire?" I asked Edward while stroking my pool stick vigorously in a seductive come hither manner. This had to be just killing him with his Bella Babe nearby, but I really didn't care. Edward had to know that I wanted him, needed him, lusted after him in not-made-for-TV ways. I could almost feel his tattooed arms around me as he pushed me into a wall and shoved that thick tongue down my throat.

And that's when it happened.

My most perfectly wonderful day was cut short with an awkward pause, an eye roll, and then a quick exit out the pool hall with his Bella Babe at his feet.

What the hell? I almost had him! He was nearly putty in my hands! But apparently nearly isn't good enough when it comes to trying to win the heart of a bad boy.

So, that's how Emmett beat me at Tekken 2. He did his little 'I am so Great' dance, called me a loser, and went off to gloat. But I sucked it up. I kept my word and... oh my... who's the blonde boy with all the piercings?

This story is dedicated to: Nicky who taught me how to play the original arcade version of Mortal Combat in the smoke-filled pool halls of my youth; To all the high school broodies that I attempted to chase; And to all the unsuspecting victims that challanged me to a game of Tekken 2 at the mall's arcade. It was most awesome beating you ;)

Special thanks to my betas: The most AWESEOME Arden8182 and the Ubertastical Uhyesplease. You girlies deserve a Rebel Yell!