Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

AN: this is not the normal fan fiction story. Not only is it all human, but the characters are not perfect, and the couples will not be the cannon couples. This is a sort of intro to the story, a quick view of each person. I hope you enjoy.

Bella POV

I was daydreaming in class yet again. I try to pay attention. Really I do, but how can I?

The way the sun was reflecting off his hair made me want to run my fingers through it, his smile, made me feel as if my worries were lifted, the way he laughed when the teacher called someone out--

"Isabella, would you please rejoin the class!!" Mrs. Stanson yelled.

I know I turned beat red, I tried to hide behind my hair. I am such a dork. I am always making myself look like a fool. If it's not getting called out in class it's tripping over nothing or stuttering when called on.

Yet again I was caught staring at him, I know that he catches me. He has to know about my crush by now. It was pathetic really, a girl like me wanting him. He's popular, on the sports team he dates cheerleaders, not clumsy girls who stuttered when talking to cute boys.

I can't believe it, he must really think I'm a dork.

But I can't help it; I love to imagine what it would be like. What my life would be like the day he looks over at me--no; the day he approaches me in the cafeteria…

'Bella' he'll say 'I can't live with out you, you're everything I have ever wanted and I want everyone to know what I see. I want everyone to see you for how great you are, for the girl I have learned to see in side your shy, adorable self'…

Life would be so great, I would be able to stand tall knowing that the "great girl that's hiding behind your shyness" that my dad talks to me about is real.

If only High School were like that, if only I could life the life that was being played out in my head instead of this dull existence.

The class bell rang releasing me from my daydreams and forcing me back in to the harsh light of reality; it was lunch time. I ran to my locker to grab a meal bar and head to the library. I could get lost in the intricate plots of the books I loved.

Why could my life be like a Jane Austen novel, or a great adventure like a Victor Hugo French tragedy?

The dorky girls always found themselves, and some great guy who loved them for all their quirks saved them from some great foe. The mean girls got what they deserved and some how high school seemed manageable and less like a personal hell.

Once I reached the library finding a place to sit was quite easy; everyone else uses this time to socialize; not read. I passed the librarian giving her a slight smile. I dreaded the day when I would be in her spot, the High School librarian; the middle aged woman still dreaming about what her life could be, living her life behind the protection of her latest novel.

I could see myself becoming that. I will go off to college, but still never be able to find friends. I will spend all my time worrying over grades and scores and never go to parties. I will spend my weekends watching TV and getting a head start on papers I don't have due for at least another month. I will probable go all out and befriend the older teachers and become their student aids. I'll be an old maid at 25; not knowing how to make friends, I'll be awkward person at work that no one wants to talk to…..

I quickly opened my book to the saved page. I needed to get lost in the story before I get to depressed, before that anxious feeling swelled up inside of me and I couldn't think of anything but the finality of death……I just needed to catch my breath, I need to get lost in the book, I need to forget about my life, about cute boys that never saw me, about mean girls who only saw my flaws, about my own depressed view of my future. I settled down in my chair letting the witty dialoged lull me in to a false sense of security…all will be well….

Rose POV

"and she walks around like she's all high and mighty" Lauren said giggling over the story she was re-telling.

I took a deep breath, 'they are no talking about me' I told myself. I looked over my outfit; it was expensive. My shoes were new high heels, my "back pack" a Coach bag, my hair was shining with not even a strand out of place. I looked perfect and I had spent an hour and a half this morning insuring that.

"I know all the guys love her, the fuckin' "goddess" but she is like so shallow and rude" Lauren added.

'Holy fuck- they ARE talking about me' I thought, 'what did I do. No it can't be me, they are talking about someone else'

"I hope she knows that guys only talk to her 'cuz they think she's easy" Mallory said as she reapplied her lip gloss in the bathroom mirror.

'I cant just stand here and not do anything. I hate that they talk about me like this. I can do this, I just have to out there and shut them up' I steeled my nerves and opened the stall door strutting up to the mirror striking my best 'I rule the fucking world' stance.

"Hey Lauren, love that dress; it was so cute in last year's Vogue" I causally said planning my attack on the snide, uppity, little bitch.

"Yeah, well I like to stick with the classics and not try and follow some trend" Lauren said glaring at me under her mascara caked eyelashes

'how dare she try and imply that I just follow others. I think for myself' I was fuming. 'calm down' I reminded myself.

"I know" I said throwing her a giant smile " Mike was just telling me he likes how I take chances. He likes someone who's daring" I said trying to pierce through her soul with my ice cold blue eyes.

"Yeah, well…" I jumped in once I heard Lauren begin to falter.

"But I'm sure you'll make a great house wife here in Forks one day, being so old fashioned-I mean 'classic'" I said as I spun on my thin stiletto heals and high tailed it out of there before my steal resolve broke and I tried to strangle the bottle blond.

I glared at the mousy brown haired girl who was standing in front of my locker and ripped the door open chipping a nail in the process.

'I hate High School' I repeated that sentence over and over in my head, it was becoming my mantra…I hate high school….ihatehighschool…. I was trying my best to calm down.

Girls talk, they gossip, they don't care if what they say is not true. It doesn't matter; I don't care if Lauren and her flock of lemmings think I am an "easy slut" or that no one really like me. I took a deep breath.

It's fine, I'm ok. It doesn't matter. This is just High School and once I get to college I will be able to start all over, people there will be more open. They wont judge me, just a few more weeks and I will be safe. I grabbed my Spanish book and slipped in to the class right as the bell rang. I hated getting to class early I rather not sit in a room of my "peers" and listen to them. I took my seat in the front row trying my best to block out the girls talking a few rows back.

"I know but maybe she will"

"no way I cant believe she wore that"

"I heard that she slept with Mr. Jafy for a better grade"

"I bet she has so many STDs"

'They are not talking about me…. They are not talking about me….." I tried to block them out at first, but now I was sucked in, I had to know if they were talking about me. I slipped sown lower in my seat and blinked back tears. 'Just a little bit longer, I'm fine' I reminded my self taking another deep breath.

Edward POV

I hate English class. Well at least I hate this section of English class. Not only do I have to sit through mindless discussion after mindless discussion on books that half the class couldn't even be bothered to read the cliff notes on, now I have to listen to them read their own horrid poems.

I hate having to stand up hear and read my poem to these brain dead idiots with a passion, a passion that I have to now capture in words and present in some sort of poetry.

The "poems" created by the students who went before me left something desired: talent. The fact that all these students are talking about subjects they don't even understand does not help. Love? Please, Sean Hood was just caught last week with Stacy Denten under the bleachers. Is that what he really thinks love is?

I feel real love, I know I do.

I just have yet to be in love.

Sometimes I'm afraid that I have thought this over to much, that I have in some way de-sensitized my self to love. That maybe I feel it to intensely.

These high school romances are no true loves.

Holding hands in the hallway and sweaty groping in the back seats of cars is no true testament to love.

I can understand love, I can feel the intensity of the emotion, the physical ache, the lack of importance the "real" world holds when you are with your love.

I would know how to handle any situation. Not the roses on a first date sort of "wooing". No I would write her a song professing my love, I would send her secret notes that she would spend all day decoding just to find out what it said.

Our love would be more that just a High School romance. We would last through time, we would understand everything about each other with out ever saying a word.

I would learn to gauge how she felt by the expressions in her eyes.

Eyes are not the windows to the soul, but rather the maps; the keys, the clues to understanding.

Poetry, these kids in my class have truly butchered any form they have touched. The allusions they made were far to obvious, the rhyming was painful, and the subject matter-- don't even get me started. Love is not beauty, but love is beautiful.

The classes reaction to my Italian sonnet was not quite what I would have thought; but then again, if they had liked it I would have known that I did something wrong. There was no way a writer that would rhyme love and dove would ever be able to understand this poem that I have poured my hear and soul in to. This literary representation of myself is so much more than just a poem.

Emmett POV

I don't want to go home. I am seriously stalling, when ever I get my ass up off this couch and in to my jeep I know I'll have to go home. "Home sweet home".

Fuck. I hate going home.

Finally, as Tyler is joking about me being able to find my keys as he drags Mallory up the stairs, I haul myself out to my jeep. I am not worried about sneaking in; there is no point to that.

I know the scene that awaits me when I get home. My mom will be on the couch drunk and crying, and my dad will be out on a date that he doesn't even bother to hide from my mom any more.

I remember when I was a freshmen in High School that was when my mom lost it. She found my dad's wedding ring in his pants pocket one night when he got home late. When she asked him why his ring was not on his finger, do you know what he said?? "Because it upsets her to see it".

My good for nothing bastard of a father told my mom that his mistress did not like being reminded that she was with a married man.

Of course mom and I had been suspecting this for a while, the fact that he flat out told her; well it kinds caused her to lose it. Now she is a ghost, going to work, coming home, making dinner, watching TV, getting drunk, crying, passing out on the couch and starting all over again.

It's worse when I'm at home with her. Nothing I ever do takes her mind off it, and when ever I just try and be there for her she will turn to me and say "You are so much like your father" and start to cry even harder, begging me not to end up like him.

How could I ever end up like him? I have seen what he can do to someone. I remember what my mom was like. She was full of life, she loved her job, she was a great mom and never seemed like she needed anything from anyone. But my father destroyed that; just by making her feel like she was not enough, that something was wrong with her, that she was lacking.

I honestly cant stand to look at him any more.

The moment I walked in to the living room I could smell it; Scottish whiskey. It had been a long day for mom. The bottle had fallen out of her hand and was creating a large wet stain on the carpet, she would be mad about that in the morning. As gently as I could I carried her up stairs and laid her down in bed.

I could not help but think about all the times I was sick when I was a kid and my mom would stay at home with me. She would read my favorite book, sing me my favorite songs, let me watch as much TV as I wanted.

I leaned over and whispered in her ear "I love you to the moon" . It was my way of telling her how much I loved her when I was younger. When I got to the door I almost missed her whispered reply "and back again" her way to telling me how much she loved me back. I had to bite my cheek to keep the tears that were pulling in my eyes from getting free.

Jasper POV

I'm not gay. Honestly I'm not. I'm fine with homosexuality, but why does everyone think I'm gay. What is it that I do.

I don't think I dress that oddly, that short girl from my history class said I had a 'dorky/dark meets runway' sort of style; and I didn't even know what that meant, so I can't be gay!!

I don't understand the female mind (more proof for not being gay) I hold open the doors for them, I complement them, I act the part of the perfect gentleman and what do I get? Gay accusations.

The one thing that I truly hate about all of this is if I protest to much, everyone thinks I'm trying to over compensate for something, that I am secretly gay. But at the same time if I do nothing people assume that it because I'm gay and don't care what they say.

I don't understand High School. It is the definition of damned if you do, damned if you don't. I feel like no matted what I do I am a "poser" or something…

I get a new hair cut and I'm called Emo.

I got new clothes and was called goth.

I got the best score in my history class and now I'm a nerd.

An Emo, goth, gay nerd…. How can that even be possible?

My dad told me to join a sports team, now that was hell. I went out for baseball, and after the coach pressured me in to going to the gym for an two hours 5 times a week I had another player offer me steroids to get the coach off my back. The next season I went out for the swimming team, who ever thought swimming was a good winter sport never must have never had their hair freeze while walking from the Natatorium to the parking lot.

But honestly I am tired of it, I don't think it matters what I feel, say or do. If I am polite and gentlemanly I will be seen as gay. If I don't hold the doors open I will be a jerk. So I will ignore the fact that if I bring my guitar to school the Emo idea gets tossed around, and is I wear a black shirt every one starts asking me if I have black nail polish and if I drink chicken blood.

I don't understand High School and I'm done trying to fit in, I will just ignore what they say and just live my own life. I will be polite, I will cut my hair how I want, I will not care if my clothes are "dorky meets-- anything". I'm cool with who I am: a gentlemanly, dork, emo, goth, nerd who gets mistaken for gay.

Alice POV

I can barely open my eyes, I am so tired. I stayed up way to late doing my homework. I feel like just when I closed my eyes it was time to get up. Only three hours ago did I even get in bed.

I hopped out of bed as fast as I could and went over to my ipod. My "Good morning world" play list will help me feel more alive. "New Shoes" by Paolo Nutini starts up. I'm singing along as I dance over to my closet to pick out my out fit for the day when my mother yell her morning greeting up the stairs to me.

"Marry Alice, you turn down that fucking music right now. Be considerate some people are trying to sleep". I turn the volume knob down a few notches and find a head band that will complement the colors of my outfit with out looking to matched.

I remember the advice that a drama teacher told me in middle school, if you pretend enough you can even make yourself fall for it. That was what I was trying to do. Pretend that I had everything that I wanted, pretend that my schedule was not suck out all of my energy. So I smile even bigger, add an extra bounce to my step and make time to be friendly!!

I try and hurry with my makeup, I told Jessica that I would help her review for the French test this morning so I need to get to school on time.

I can't keep doing this, I have school, my social life, work, staying on top of my AP classes, maintaining my GPA, not to mention college stuff and when the spring gets here I will have the school play as well as college trips and interviews.

I honestly don't know how I stay up most days; wait that's a lie it's a mix of coffee, espresso shots, Jolt energy cola, go girl energy drink-apatite suppressant and no doze pills for the really busy days.

But I think I have found my problem, I say I found my problem but really it was my psychologist: apparently I don't know how to say no to people, and I want people to like me….wow that is what she's paid for. I could have told you that, well really I told her that by talking about myself and then she told me, in a summarized fashion. I think that's an hour of my Thursday afternoon I can have back now. Thanks Dr. Cardona!!

Of course right when I'm just a minute or two from school Jess calls and asks me to bring in coffee, she had a tuff night out, so I have to back track and stand in line for ten minutes and elbow past the high powered business people on their way to work. Finally I walk in to school 20 minutes latter than I wanted to be, I wipe the annoyed look off my face and hand Jess her coffee.

"Can we make this quick, I have to figure out what is going on with the new cheerleader uniforms they still are not here!" She whines. I almost didn't catch myself before I rolled my eyes. Here I am doing her a favor and she-- SMILE!

"Totally, do you have your vocab list?" I asked looking around, I didn't see a school bag.

"Oh, I left it at home, don't you have one?" She asked examining her nails.

"Um, I think I might have mine from last year" I said "Let me check my locker" I got up and hurried back to my locker. If I just handed over my notes from last year then she will be happy and I can try and finish the science lab report I fell asleep on last night, then during the history film I can read for English tomorrow meaning that I can get a bit more sleep tonight. Good, I rearranged my day and now I can get maybe 5 hours of sleep if noting goes wrong. As I turned the corner my happiness faltered. Erica was standing in front of my locker looking pissed off.

"Allie, I am screwed. Lauren said that Chris told Josh that he is thinking of dumping me. I need Friday's date to go really well. I need you to come shopping with me after school" Erica said moments from tears. I quick pulled out last year's French notes and turned to Erica.

"What about yesterday, you got some great stuff" I honestly didn't have the time for this. Erica took forever shopping and I just had way too much to do.

"you don't understand" she began to cry, "he's gonna dumb me. I need to impress him I though you would be there for me". I felt myself give in, it was like watching someone else in control of my body. I could do nothing but watch as I reached up to pat her on the back, assure her that everything would be fine and promise that I would be there for as long as she needed me; just as soon as I dropped of these notes to Jessica.

xoxo