Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is not associated with anything franchised from the story. No copyright infringement is intended. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I simply change up her characters, and may create my own.
Chapter One: Coffee, Cooking, and Hello Kitty
A blond haired, shaggy-looking kid approaches my desk, wearing skinny jeans, a hat, and the ugliest shirt I'd seen today. Before the curse words, and the LOL's and LMFAO's can come out, I reach over and snatch the hat off his head.
"What the fuck!" he's angry. His eyebrows are raised and he's gracing me with the second glare I've received today. How did I get so lucky?
"I don't know if you can read or not, but that big blue sign hanging on the door, says "No Hats Allowed." I say, pointing to the door.
He reaches over to get his hat, but I'm too quick for this bitchboy, and plant it under my ass.
"Don't think I won't go under there" he says.
"And don't think I won't kick your ass," I retort.
"We're in a library. You could get fired". I laugh. I've worked as a librarian for three months now. There is no way I could ever be let go.
"Meet me after then. I don't play games".
He flips me the bird, all while walking away backwards, muttering the word "bitch" over and over again. I'm impressed by his multitasking. So impressed that I raise out of my seat, lean over the desk, and toss his hat at him.
The line at Starbucks the next day just about kills me. It's nearly 59 degrees outside, and I'm dressed in Hello Kitty tights, a plain black shirt and skirt, with a leather coat on. I am a cranky bitch in this weather, but bitches need coffee too, right?
When I finally get inside, I find out that they are out of French Vanilla creamer. What coffee joint runs out of creamer, you ask? Apparently, this one. Sullenly, I accept the Hazelnut shit, and turn around to fish out my wallet. When I turn back around, I notice something is missing.
"Where's my coffee?" I ask Starbucks worker number one.
"Excuse me ma'am?" He must be new here.
"Oh, you know the medium-sized coffee that I just ordered from this shitty place?" I hear a laugh.
I turn around prepared to stick my knee in his bouncy place, but come face to face with the darkest, most beautiful green eyes I'd ever seen. Top those off with a crooked smile, bronze-like, unruly hair, and my panties were soaked.
"Something funny?" I stick out my chest, flashing the goods. I smile when he glances down and licks his lips. God, the places that tongue could go.
"Just you," he speaks and I just about die.
I smack my forehead and reply, "Oh crap. Did I forget to take off my Micheal Jackson makeup, and big red nose?"
"Not today, but you should definitely wear that sometime." He velvet voice whispers in my ear.
I inhale as he pulls back, and catch a sniff of his breath.
"-the fuck" I stammer, "Did you steal my coffee?" It's my day to glare.
"Technically…no" and he's Mr. Chuckle again.
"Well I could technically stick my foot up your ass"
"Finders, keepers" he says, then retreats.
Before I can let him get to his car, I dash back into the Starbucks and buy a handful of packaged butter.
I chase after him, and pelt his car.
"Take that bitch!" I yell, and let out my victorious cackle. surprisingly he smiles at me. He raises his coffee cup, smirking devilishly, and he drives by me. I'm left with an exaggerated pout, no coffee, and smashed butter all over my hand.
As soon as I enter the apartment, a cloud of smoke consumes me.
"Rose!" I yell, desperate to find my roommate.
"In the kitchen dear!" she replies, and I head in her direction. When I see that she's okay, I take a deep breath to calm myself.
"Relax Bella. I'm just cooking dinner," Rose says, and I stare at her in shock. Rose is a gorgeous blond whose been envied by every girl she's ever met. I must admit, I was one of those girls, but I quickly got over myself, and we'd been best friends for years.
"Rosalie," I cross my arms and stare at her still completely in shock, "You can't cook. Remember that time you bought a Martha Stewart's cook book, and made shit-tasting cookies for trick-or-treaters? Or that time that you volunteered to make the turkey for Thanksgiving and ended up coating it with my mother's edible lube. Or how about the time-"
"Okay, Bella, I understand. And that was like five years ago". Rose turns back around to tend to her burnt meal, that looks like chicken and chocolate. I open up some windows, batting out the smoke, and take a trip down memory lane. It was the second Thanksgiving that Rosalie would be spending with me and my family. Her family was swimming in the Bahamas somewhere, blowing their money on everything and anything. Rose and I met our second year in college, and not once did her mother, her father, or even her sister, come and visit. Every holiday Rose would sit alone in our dorm room, snacking on M&M's and Mike & Ikes, as if it was normal that her family didn't care what she did. Anyway... that Thanksgiving Rose declared that she wanted to be the Turkey-cooker, and my mother reluctantly gave up her "Stroke The Cook" apron. Let's just say that Rose had to cover up the black parts of the turkey some way, and she decided to rifle through my mother's drawer. I learned some weird things about my parents' that day. The disturbing "Renee, why does this taste so familiar?" resurfaces in my father's voice, and Rosalie snaps me back.
"Bella. I don't know what to do. Dinner's ruined," Rosalie says, and I can't help but feel bad for her. I plant her in front of the TV, turn it on, and scan the commercials.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
"Looking for dinner," I say, and a Subway's commercial pops up.
"That's perfect!," Rose screams in my ear, and I dramatically fall off of the couch.
"Bitch ow!", I yell, holding on to my ear."
"Sorry, but Subway's is just perfect. My monkey will love it," Rose stares off dreamily. Rose has been dating Emmett Cullen, otherwise known as, "her monkey", for two months now, and tonight Rose decided to cook him dinner. So the night kind of started off wrong. The plus side is, I get to finally meet Emmett tonight.
"Fuck," Rose glances at the TV, "Dinner's supposed to be at six". The bright 5:30 flashes against the screen.
"It's fine Rose. You run and pick up the sandwiches, and I'll stay and clean up,". Rose may be a horrible cook, but her cleaning skills just about suck ass as well. She hates cleaning, although an outsider would think otherwise. We own a bright pink, vacuum cleaner. Bright Pink! The day she brought it home, I was so mad I put it out in the rain. I'm sad to say it survived.
"Fine, but just make sure you change your clothes," she frowns, looking down at my outfit.
"Hello Kitty is the shit Rose," I say, unaffected by her lack of appreciation for my clothes.
"I know, but Bella you must have to look more... just more tonight,".
"What are you saying Rose?"
"Emmett'sbringinghisbrothertodinner," she mumbles low and fast.
"Sorry Rose couldn't hear you," I laugh, "That almost sounded like you said Emmett wouldn't be alone tonight". She joins in on the laughter, stands up and puts on her coat and her shoes.
"He's bringing his brother Edward. So put on a nice dress, some make up, and I'll do your hair when I get back," Rose leaves out the front door before I can come up with a response. Five seconds later, she pops her head back in, "If you put on Hello Kitty I will kick your ass bitch". I throw my plush Hello Kitty pillow at the door when she slams it close again.
Rose returns fifteen minutes later, and the house is spotless. I cleaned my ass off, hoping that this would deter her from my sleek, strap-less black dress, with a big pic of Hello Kitty's face on the chest. It's sad that I don't even like Hello Kitty all that much, but I just wear the stuff to annoy Rose. We're in my bedroom, and Rose is curling my hair, unbeknownst to the dress under my robe.
"I really like him B, and I haven't met his brother yet either if that makes you feel better," she says, setting down the curling iron.
"That makes me feel so much better Rose," I mutter, being sarcastic as usual. Unfortunately, Rose has learned by now, and catches my sarcastic remark. I have earned a smack on my chest.
"Ow!" I say, rubbing my boobies, "Is it hurt Bella day?"
"You are so lucky I'm already dressed".
"I am capable of doing my own hair Rose".
"Yeah, well-" she begins to say, but is cut off by the insistent sound of our doorbeel rining over and over again. I hear booming laughter from the hallway.
"What the hell Rose? Did you invite a seven-year old to dinner too?" I stand up, prepared to get the door. Rose shreiks, pushing me out of the way, and heading for the door.
"Emmy!" I hear her yell, and close my door. It's showtime, ladies and gents. I take off my robe, revealing my obnoxious dress, and slip my shoes off. What? I'd feel more comfortable barefoot. I open up my door, and walk out towards the living room. I am greeted by a big, burly man, who I am to assume is Emmett.
"Hello Kitty, really?" he says, in the same booming voice. Rose turns to glare at me.
"I happen to love her. She's such an inspiration. I'm Bella," I step forward to shake his hand.
"Emmett, and Hello Kitty doesn't really do it for me. She hardly ever speaks. Plus she's a bitch to Charmmy Kitty," he says and I just about snap to defend the honor of a show I barely know.
"I don't know who that is," I say and stare at him menacingly, "But I do know that you never talk about Hello Kitty like that". He shrugs it off , and laughs, infuriating me further.
"So Emmett," Rose steps between us, "Where'd your brother go?"
"Right here," I hear a familar velvety voice, and spin around. Coming face-to-face with Mr. Chuckles. Fuck my life.