Hey! This is my first story like this so please be nice! I know you will, but I really want you guys to like it! If you have any constructive criticism however, that would be much appreciated!

~TheClockworkLemon

Edwards POV

My palms sweated nervously as my mum's car pulled up at the gates outside school. Just as they had every day for the past two years since I started high school in England. Today it's the first day of year nine, and over the summer I had been working on speaking, so that my faint American accent was barely noticeable. Maybe it would be one less thing to feel self conscious about. Oh well...I'm sure the kids in my year will be able to fill that gap with another thing. Maybe it will be my crazy bronze hair that won't stay flat no matter how I brush it. Or perhaps they will start to notice how I stutter slightly when I talk, or how I always keep my shirt sleeves rolled down so they hang around my hands?

"Hey Eddie...cool it man..." A deep voice cuts through my thoughts, which are quickly spiralling out of control, and I turn around to see the face of my brother, Emmett, sitting in the cool leather back seat, pausing as he reaches across to unbuckle his seatbelt for a second to place a calming hand on my shoulder.

Smiling a little, I nod, trying to appear I'm fine, to him, as well as my mother, who seems to be worrying more than me.

"I'll be fine mo-mum.." I quickly correct myself, sighing a little inside as I feel myself slipping into American phrases already. She offers me a weak smile, giving me a quick hug which I squirm away from immediately before anyone sees, looking around at the students who are beginning to arrive.

"Okay then...I'll see you tonight..remember, if you want to bring a friend round, they're always welcome..." She says hopefully, as she does every day, and I mumble something incoherent before scrambling out of the car, checking my red and black striped tie is straight and adjusting my black blazer before walking into the school grounds.

The building looks huge and menacing, more like a prison block than a place of learning, and the almost completely black and white school uniform doesn't help. Swarms of girls and boys, ranging from 11 to 16 amble towards their various classes, all dressed in white shirts, black and red ties, and black blazers and either trousers worn low enough to show that they can afford fake Calvin Klein underwear from the market, or skirts worn shorter than the baggy, ill fitting blazers. In amongst these are various splashes of colour from the attached sixth form college, who are allowed to wear whatever they choose. My brother is one of these, and I look at him enviously as he walks confidently over to a large group of his friends, to which he boasts of his summer conquests, and various girls giggle and swoon over his large, muscular body and attractive smirk plastered across his lips.

I sigh again, adjusting my satchel, running a hand through my scruffy hair, wishing I could look more like him. I had no chance. We weren't even properly related. The Cullens adopted us when I was 6 and he was 11, both falling for our tortured pasts, which made most people turn away and leave us as soon as they found out about them.

I shake my head, swallowing nervously, walking nervously into the school, tripping over my feet as I look around, distracted by the other people who are already looking around at me, a few laughs being thrown my way.

A dark stain covers my cheeks, and I keep my head down, but look up, surprised at the lack of comments, slightly relieved. I look around, intrigued, seeing most of my classmates gathered around a tall boy, smiling cockily, wearing his uniform scruffily but in a way which looks effortlessly stylish. Soft blonde curls top his head, and I see him looking at the girls gathered around him up and down with those piercing blue eyes that seem to stare right into my soul as they suddenly swing around and fixate on my green ones.

Seeing him ask something quietly to one of the boys, Mike, I think, a whole host of various faces turn to look my way in amazement, and Mike says something back, with obvious distaste.

My eyes drop, and I swallow hard, knowing they're already talking about me, and I stumble again, this time over someone else's feet, and now everyone's attention is on me, and I'm almost drowned in the laughter and comments thrown my way, from all directions, and I start sprinting, no longer caring about looking stupid. That dumb new guys face stuck in my head all the time I run.

Tears are pricking sharply at the back of my eyes as I run into the deserted restrooms, clutching the grimy, cracked porcelain sink as I stare at my reflection in the smeared mirror.

Crazy bronze hair that is already sticking all over the place, pale skin, almost completely white, contrasting sharply with the dark purple bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep. I always get more nightmares just before I come to school.

Above those bags lie my eyes. Bright green, slightly slanted at the corners, and now glistening with tears.

"What's wrong with me..?" I whisper to my reflection, not feeling as if I know the person staring back at me, his dark pink lips slightly parted from running, the breaths coming out ragged.

But of course, the reflection offers no answer, it never does.

I pull away from the sink immediately, starting to walk out, my head down. But my path is blocked by a tall boy, and I look up nervously, expecting it to be an older boy, and my body is already tensed and prepared for the inevitable beating.

"Cool it dude. I'm not gonna hurt you..." A smooth American accent causes my eyes to open suddenly, and I'm surprised to see the new boy, his smiling face surrounded by his messy curls. His hand comes up and I realise he must just take enjoyment in lulling his victims into a false sense of security. But the only contact I feel is a soft hand placed on my shoulder.

I look up at him in confusion, and a worried look flashes across his face for a second before the cocky smirk overtakes his lips again.

"Come on, I'm new here, and you look pretty cool. You can show me around." He smiles and pushes me lightly out of the door, catching the back of my blazer when I stumble a little.

"Woah..." He chuckles a little and steadies me, looking at me in amusement, "Don't speak much do you?" He sighs a little and looks at me before extending his hand for me to shake. "I'm Jasper Whitlock, and apparently you're 'that weird messed up kid'. But that guy must have been stupid because that don't sound like a real name to me..." He raises an eyebrow and smirks, prompting a small laugh to escape my lips.

"I-I'm Edward C-Cullen..." I say quietly, barely audibly, looking down at the floor, my fingers twisting in with each other as I bite my lip nervously.

"I'm sorry I didn't quite catch that..." He frowns a little, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Edward..." I mumble, slightly louder, and he smiles and nods.

"You're American! I knew it!" He laughs, slapping me lightly on the back. I flinch a little and I sigh quietly, looking down.

"I tried all summer to get an English accent..." I mumble, my fingers numb and clumsy as I carry on fiddling with them. They're usually cold, but on this chilly September morning in the North West of England, they're even more freezing than usual.

"It's pretty convincing, but you can't fool a fellow American!" He laughs, and I start to notice a slight southern twang to his voice, and I internally curse myself. I must have done something major to piss off the big guy in the sky because He knows I'm a sucker for blonde hair and blue eyes as well.

Dammit Edward do not get a crush on the new kid...