Saving Bella

Summary: Bella's been broken one too many times. She can hardly trust anyone with the exception of a couple people to a certain extent. When the new guy comes to town, can he finally heal this broken Bella? AU. All human.

Author's Note: I know, I wanted to wait to post this, but I couldn't. I will still update Living With Vampires, but I had this strange urge to write this, so I did. And it turned out to be something I actually liked. So, I hope you like it.

Chapter 1 – New Things Bite

And then his lips turned up into the most hateful and malicious sneer that I've ever seen in my life. And as he turned his body in my direction to allow me to catch a glimpse of his cold dark coal-like eyes. I froze at the mere sight of him. This man, I knew him, but I guess at the same time I didn't. All I knew was that he was someone I once trusted, someone that I could depend on, and now he had just finished torturing my mother in front of my very eyes. With my kitchen knife no less. The very same kitchen knife that I was using earlier to cut onions for some dish that I would have said that I despised, but I didn't know the full context of the word until this very moment. I despised this man, truly utterly undoubtedly despised him from all the corners of my soul.

Instinctively, my body was working up as scream that was so loud and possibly so high pitched that maybe—and this was a vain hope—that my scream would paralyze him so I have just enough time to escape. Where? I'm not entirely sure. But I know for a fact that anywhere else would have been better than here. Just as the panic and insanity started pulsing through my veins an odd sensation had wiped it all out. It was a strange numbing sensation, almost calming. It felt almost like the Novocaine that a dentist would use before a root canal, except here it numbed my whole entire body in a matter of seconds. I couldn't feel type of pain, physical or emotional. This is a feeling that I would live with forever; it would be a gift and a curse.

But at the moment he turned the towards me to do whatever he did to my Mother to me. That's when my newfound defense system knocked me out unconscious.

Five Years Later . . .

I was sitting in my class listening to my teacher scolding me for some sort of misconduct. Obviously he was new. He had no idea who I am, or rather, my past because no one truly knows me; not anymore at least. People just assume that they knew me, but all that they know is what happened. They don't know anything about me at all.

I looked up at the teacher, with a grin slowly appearing on my face. It wasn't like I wanted to smirk him, that new teacher fresh out of college. You know the type. He was the 'cool teacher' before you do the most trivial and insignificant thing, then they blow up in your face trying to prove their authority before everyone else found the teacher's weak side and took advantage.

My mother was the same way, before . . . before that most unfortunate event. That's what everyone had been calling it. And that's such a lie. It wasn't unfortunate, it was one of the most abhorrent, horrific, atrocious, appalling, unspeakable event that I've ever witnessed. Anything but unfortunate.

I started to slowly feel numb and almost giddy thinking about it. I would have screamed or something if I could. But right now, I couldn't. I couldn't even wipe that smug smile on my face that grew ever more pronounced on my face.

"Do you think this is funny Ms. Swan?!" the new guy demanded. As much as he tried to sound authoritative and unbreakable I could hear the uncertainty in his voice; and how it wavered ever so slightly.

I almost giggled at seeing his weakness. This guy has obvious control-issues.

"You know what young lady?! I do not like your attitude at all, I'm sending you to the Principal's office at once!" he stomped to his desk and started scribbling a note on some slip of paper. He stomped his way back to my desk and slammed it back on my desk. "And you better go to the Principal's office, or else I'm going to make sure you're suspended for this!"

I sighed, slipping out of my seat. I grabbed my worn out backpack and slung it across one shoulder. I clutched the slip in my right hand, almost crumpling it before I placed it in my faded gray grungy military-like jacket pocket.

"See ya, Mister. . ." I squinted at the board to look for a name. Of course there was one, he was new after all. "Mister Beail." I attempted a grin as best as I could, but it turned out as a grimace.

I headed out the too familiar halls. I roamed these halls even when I wasn't in high school; it all has to do with who you know. I turned the usual corners and there it was, the Principal's office. I've been in that building too many times to count. And no, not because I'm one of those problem children who goes through a lot and gets into a lot of trouble when an event like mine occurred. I was sent here because I had to. I was sent every so often to see how I was doing, and no, not so I could talk to counselors, but to the Principal.

I walked through the generic brown door that can be easily confused with any other high school's office door. It was sad really. And you wouldn't believe the number of times I requested for the school to be colored a different color other than brown. It was so generic and plain. And not to mention the color of that crap on the bottom of your shoe you try to scrap off with your sibling's toothbrush.

"Hello Bella," the secretary said warmly with deep concern in her voice. She gave me those sympathetic eyes that everyone else who worked at this wretched school.

I waved at her briefly, giving her a genuine smile. I actually like Lynn, the secretary. She's been to almost all of my birthday parties and she isn't that bad. She was actually a friend before the whole incident. And I'm aware of how freakish I sound because one of my friends is a high school secretary, but she's only in her late twenties or early thirties. Honestly, she isn't that old.

I opened the heavy door to reveal a forty-ish year old man with a bald head—due to his own pair of clippers, believe me—and his hideous brown suite with an olive green tie. He sat behind his maple wood desk that had a name plate, computer, office supplies, and paperwork. There were three chairs in front of his desk and a couch pressed up against the wall next to a large bookcase.

"Bella aren't you supposed to be in class?" he asked me with his deep busfiness fvoice. I was entertained that he even bothered using it at me, but that was probably because we were at school.

I shrugged. "I guess, but apparently I got kicked out," I said half-way amused.

"Your teacher kicked you out?" the Principal repeated dubiously. His giant dark eyebrows furrowed together. I could see his fists clenching into balls making his knuckles white. I knew this would happen and now I feel sorry for the poor sap who's about to lose his job because of his rookie mistake.

"It's okay Uncle Tim," I attempted to sooth him.

And this is what I mean by who I know. I'm related to the Principal. Yes, he is my uncle. And by uncle I don't necessarily mean the man who's your father's only brother, but this man is also the man who I've spent the majority of my weekends and summers with for six years. He helped raised me after . . . after the 'unfortunate event' with his wife, my aunt Stacy, and the twins. We all grew extremely close. So whenever I feel like popping in and saying hi, I usually fake an illness or say that I'm feeling extremely depressed and that I have to speak to the Principal ASAP. They always fall for it. I remember this one time, he took me and his kids for family counseling, we didn't go to family counseling of course. We ate burgers and relaxed a bit before lunch began. I figure he could get in trouble for our family counseling incidents, but oh well, that doesn't stop us.

"No it's not! Completely unacceptable when your at your fragile state!" Uncle Timothy bellowed. I winced at the word fragile. I hated it when people said that I was in a 'fragile state.' It was ridiculous.

"Let me see the slip he gave you," he held his hand out demanding. Right now he was acting more uncle than Principal.

I reached in my pocket and fished out the slip of paper he wanted reluctantly. I handed to him while he studied it with wild eyes.

"Hank Beail. I remember him," Principal Swan turning his voice into his business one once more. "He came in here begging for a job because everyone one else he looked at for a job turned him down because he was so inexperienced and lacked common sense. I took him for pity. Now I know why no one wanted to hire him."

I disguised a laugh as a cough, but Uncle Tim raised his eyebrows knowing exactly what I've done.

"Oh, he's in big trouble now," Uncle Tim said gruffly.

"You're not going to do anything horrible to him are you?" I tried feigning interest. "Maybe you should just not do anything. The people from the classroom are bound to tell other teachers who are going to tell Hank what a big mistake he made. Then he's going to be frightened at the both of us."

"You're point?"

I took a deep breath. "Well, if you just yell at him Uncle, then he's going to think I tattled on him or something. And then he's going to feel like he's going to have to give me A's—when we both know I could get them myself."

"So, you want me to do nothing, for your reputation's sake?" he sounded amused.

I laughed. "Not mine. Yours. I mean, wouldn't it sound weird that you yelled at him and then suddenly your close niece starts getting A's?"

"But you always get A's," he retorted relaxing into his big leather chair.

I sprawled myself on the leather cough toying with a pillow in my hands. "I know, but you know how people talk."

He just nodded his head. "You should stay here for a while then. Just do your homework or something and return to class if you want."

Meaning: you can stay here for an extensible period of time and then possibly go back to your class unless I can find you a useful errand.

That's the beauty of being the Principal's niece. I can do unimaginable tasks. That and I have an unbelievably cool uncle. And perhaps the fact that I can ace just about any class easily has something to do with that as well. I get most of my teacher's plans from my uncle anyway. And he requests classwork and homework to him so he can 'okay' it. They catch on for a while, but what surprises me is that no one really cares or bothers to defy my abusive power. I think that has to do with the whole death-of-mother-in-front-of-me issue. That's why I only have a couple of friends and one best friend; the rest are too freaked out to know what to say to me.

"Already ahead of you," I held up all of today's assignments and started scribbling furiously on my lap.

But after fifteen minutes, I grew bored and reached into my backpack for my old battered copy of Wuthering Heights. It's a twisted book with twisted characters. I love it. I mean, it has to do with a bunch of twisted people who make a lot of horrible choices. But after of all that hate, pain, and death there is a speck of hope in the end that makes it all better. Just a speck that keeps everyone going on. What a lovely speck it is.

There was a knock at the door before Lynn opened it gingerly. I barely lifted my head at the sound, but I listened carefully to see what she's was going to say only half-concentrating on my book now.

"Principal Swan? There's some new students and their mother here to see you," Lynn said with an odd tone.

I could just picture her face with the tone I've heard plenty of times. She was obviously trying to stay calm, but she was annoyed with the overly protective parents who march in here everyday demanding to see Uncle Tim. Only a few are allowed to get in. I could just see all of her features smooth and almost blasé but her eyebrow would be twitching just so. I used think it was hilarious if it wasn't for a fact that I'd played secretary for a day when she was absent and I don't find it as funny anymore.

"Send them in," Uncle Tim said in his business voice once more. I hate the business voice. It losses all aspects of his playfulness and character and replaces it with a deep intimidating booming voice that burned your ears.

A frazzled looked mother with her caramel colored-hair flying in every direction. It looked as if she attempted to put it in a bun earlier, but the hair had escaped that fancy trap. Hm. My hair does similar things if I don't monitor it carefully. She pulled in with her an average looking guy with the messy bronze just-got-out-of-bed look that used quite a bit of gel, an older looking boy with intimidating muscles, and a petite pixie-like girl with short spiky hair. I saw that the mother forced the bronzed-haired one into a chair almost abusively and sat down next him looking at my uncle with hectic blue eyes.

"Hello Principal," she looked at the golden nameplate at the desk. "Swan. Principal Swan. I'm Mrs. Cullen this is is my daughter Alice and my sons Emmett and Edward. We just moved from the east coast."

"The east coast hm? That's quite a distance from Forks," my uncle chuckled still in his business voice.

Her laugh was panicky. "Oh yes. I know. And I'm afraid that they might have a hard time adjusting to the drastic change. And then Edward started acting up earlier—"

"Mom!" her son, Edward apparently, interrupted his mother's frantic words. I could see, from my view, the tips of his ears turning pink.

I couldn't help but snicker.

All five head flew in my direction with separate expressions. My uncle was slightly furious at my reaction, even though I knew he wanted to laugh as well with the slight twinkle in his eyes. The woman looked like she saw a ghost. She was obviously still disorientated with the move and was probably is having a case of jet lag. The bronze-haired guy though, his face was twisted in embarrassment, fury, and surprise. The girl however eyed me carefully, before she broke out into a bright smile and the other boy just grinned at me.

I buried my nose into my book hiding a smirk. "Don't mind me," I mumbled into the book. "I'm just a mere Principal's Assistant." An excuse I've used a number of times. Hell, I might as well be one since I spend most of my time in here running errands and doing work here.

"I see," she turned back to Uncle Tim. "I was just wondering if you can help me with Edward's schedule. You see, he has the same class for all periods and apparently he didn't get his locker a couple days ago, and I was wondering if you can possibly help with that?"

"Of course. Bella, my Principal's Assistant, can help with that. Bells, I expect you to escort him to his class and show him around the school. I'll excuse you from all of your classes Bella," he said with a glint of humor in his eyes, but his face was grave serious.

Ugh. I guess he's found that stupid errand for me to run. Stupid. Stupid! I should have stayed quiet so I could have just read my book and go on with my day like I normally do. But no, this new kid has to come along and ruin things. I think it's just the new kid part. I mean, my day was going just great until the new teacher got PO'ed and sent me here. Then this new kid shows up with his mom and makes me follow him around school because his ears turned pink and I laughed.

"Seriously?!" I stood up dropping my book on the carpet floor with a loud thud.

He nodded gravely.

I stood up, leaving my things, and walked to the door mumbling things unintelligibly. I think they heard me because Ms. Edward's Mom, Ms. Pixie, Mr. Macho, and Mr. Pink-Ears gave me a look that clearly questioned my sanity and Uncle Tim looked at me warningly.

"Come on," I grumbled. "Let's go, shall we?"

The boy murmured something into his mother's ear who said something that caused him to say something back with what looked like an attitude. The mother scolded him silently causing the boy to collect his stuff and grumble something harshly at his mom.

The other two didn't looked troubled at all and headed for their classes that had started. I'm assuming their mother forced them to come with her even though their schedules and lockers were perfectly in tact.

I winced, clenching my jaw, as I leaned against the wooden frame trying to fight the sudden wave of emotions trying to overcome me. I saw Uncle Time giving me a worried look, but I ignored it and walked out the door. It was about time when the numbing feeling overtook me.

"Hey, aren't you going to give me a locker or something?" he asked me. There was some leftover edginess in his voice that wasn't directed at me.

"You don't even have a locker?" I groaned internally. Why me?

"Didn't you hear my mom at all?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Your point?" I looked up at him. I was surprised at his height. He must have been taller than six five. So he towered me at my measly five foot four.

"From the other side of the country," he said with a smirk on his face.

I sighed. "Fine, whatever."

I walked over to Lynn's desk and leaned over it to see whatever she was typing so furiously on it. My legs flew into the air so fast that I nearly missed Edward's head. I really have to work on my aim.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he asked with a smirk. He was obviously over the dispute he had with his mom.

"Maybe," I looked over my shoulder.

I turned back to Lynn all business. "Who's off?" I asked in a serious tone.

Lynn scanned the room quickly. "Morton. Coffee break, you have exactly forty-three minutes and thirty-nine seconds."

I nodded, and dropped down from the desk. I creped my way to Counselor Morton's office watching out for him, even though I know just as well as everyone else that he's having his coffee break in the janitor's closet with one of the front office ladies. Very kinky.

I skipped my way to the desk, tripping in the process, but thankfully I caught myself before I fell flat on my face. I sat in his large plush chair as I woke up the monitor. I typed in the password easily. And then started going through a number of files until I found the one I wanted.

"You don't look like Mr. Morton," Edward said as he observed the name plate on the desk.

I rolled my eyes staying focused on my work. "Why thank you captain obvious. I'm not Mr. Morton. But I am getting your schedule. And . . ." I clicked the print button that was on the screen. The printer to the side hummed to life while it spat out Edward's schedule. "Voilà! Your new schedule!"

He took it into his hands and eyed it carefully. "Impressive. But what are you going to do about my locker?"

I sighed. "You can't be happy with what you got?"

He stared at me with a smirk playing at his lips.

"Okay fine, whatever," I grumbled.

I typed furiously trying to find any available locker. There wasn't any. Not even a freshman locker. Which is strange because we don't have a lot of students here in Forks.

"Um, well . . ." I started off. Then I heard a muffled voice outside. I strained my eyes to hear the conversation.

"Mr. Morton, but your coffee's almost all gone!" Lynn said panicky.

"Shit!" I hissed.

"It's fine Lynn, I'll survive with a half-empty cup of coffee."

"Oh, Mr. Morton! You can't go on saying that the cup's half empty! What are the kids supposed to say when they hear that?" she forced a nervous laugh.

I exited out of everything and shut down the monitor quickly.

"Is that—?"

I cut off Edward by grabbing him by his arm and shoving him into the closet. Or at least, It's meant to be a closet, but it's just a small square with a lot of boxes. I suddenly realized how close I was to Edward. I was pressed up against him, and he was against me. I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. And why was it that I was getting this strange tingly feeling from just touching him? It started from the tips of hair down to my toes. This is insane.

I fought a blush, and tried to put some space between us. But I could only get an inch away from him, and it wasn't enough because in some places we were still touching. I refused to look up at his face. Instead I turned my body around so I could look for an exit. I found it. A window—who puts a window in a closet? I spied a box and stepped on it trying to get closer to my only escape.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked eyeing me while I jumped on the box trying to reach the window.

"Unlike someone, I'm trying to find a way out of this place," I almost reached it, by like two feet.

"I can see that," he smirked. "But you're not going to get anywhere like that. Here, let me help you."

He grabbed me by the waist and lifted me a couple feet off the ground. My eyes popped open. He just lifted me off the floor like I was Skipper, the little fluffy dog Charlie found me. But it was more effective than me jumping on top of the box. But I could just feel my face growing red hot at his touch, I really have to work on that. My hand reached the window and I wretched it open quickly as possible.

"Got it," I whispered.

"That's great," he murmured. "But now you're going to have to jump out of it."

"What?!" I looked down at him. "Are you insane?! Why don't you throw yourself out the window?"

He looked amused in the poorly lit room. "Because, I can't fit through the window," he used his head to indicate the window because his hands were full.

"Fine, but I—!"

I was too late. Edward already shoved me out the window. I fell on the ground with a hard plopping sound. Arg! My butt hurts. I stood up, slowly. The whole entire bottom part of my body was completely sore from impact. That's just great. I slowly started rubbing my aching bottom.

I heard a stifled laughter from the window.

My head shot up, glaring at him. "Fine, be that way. I'll just leave you in there then," I grumbled. I started walking with no destination in mind.

"Bella," I skidded to a stop at the sound of my name coming from his mouth. I have no idea why my heart started this weird thumping sound. It was just a voice, saying my name. "Come on Bella! Please! You can't just leave me here," he pleaded. He face looked so innocent that I almost believed him, until I looked into his eyes and saw humor in them.

"Fine!" I grumbled. "But you owe me."

I walked around the building before he could say anything else. I headed back through the doors that I entered what felt like seconds ago. The women at the front desk gave me this odd look; they probably remembered me coming inside and not coming out. Oops. I walked past them, ignoring the peculiar looks I was receiving and knocked on Mr. Morton's open door.

He looked up briefly and smiled a sympathetic smile. Ugh! Those eyes! He was giving me those eyes.

"Hello Isabella," I winced at the use of my full name. "Are you here to talk to me about your mother . . . ?" he trailed off thinking that I was here for counseling—yeah, right.

"Um, no," I said too quickly. I hoped Edward didn't hear anything. I hated when people found out and then started acting completely different with me. "I'm here because I saw Ms. Matthews going into the printing room with the new guy." I got closer to him and said in a low voice, "I thought you should know."

He looked shocked for a second, and then panicked. He wasn't old. In fact he looked like he was in his late twenties, and he worked out frequently with these incredible blue eyes, not that I'm one for blue eyes, I tend to go for the green-eyed men myself—I'm being sarcastic. I don't date. At all.

"Um. Err. . . . Well, thank you Isabella," he got up quickly. "You just reminded me, I have to get . . . papers. In the printing room. Excuse me."

He scrambled out the door muttering something like, "Sophia" and "damn newbies." I giggled giddily, he fell for it!

I opened the door with a proud look on my face.

"Come on," I grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door. We headed in the opposite direction of Mr. Morton. We passed through the front desk and I ignored the suspicious looks the women were giving me. I closed the door

"I'm impressed," he said with this incredible lop-sided grin on his lips. Did I say incredible? I meant incredibly cocky half smile.

"Why?" I said looking into his . . . green eyes. "You didn't think I could do it?" I challenged.

"No, that's not it," he said shaking his head, his green eyes sparkling. "I just thought you were going to leave me there until that man leaves."

"And don't think I didn't consider it," I said rolling my eyes.

I then realized I was still holding his hand, and I dropped it like it was on fire. Which, ironically, it felt like it. Not that his hand was burning, but the touch . . . Ugh. I'm sounding like a big sap.

I started walking to my locker. Trying to remember if I've forgotten anything in there. I turned the combination and it clicked. I swung open the door easily searching for something, anything to keep me preoccupied.

"Um, that's nice you have your own locker," Edward commented leaning against the locker next to mine. "But I'd like to have one of my own."

"About that," I took out a random notebook from my locker. "There are none."

"What?!" he looked at me like I was joking. "You're serious, aren't you."

I nodded. "But you know you could just share one with your brother and sister."

"I can't," he said gravely. "When we came here to get all our stuff, Emmett and Alice got the last locker and their splitting it. They woman at the desk said for me to check the first day of school to see if someone left and had a vacant locker."

"Well, that sucks," I said conversationally.

"Tell me about it," he grumbled with his head in his hands.

I don't know why I did it. Maybe I felt sorry for the guy or something, but then I said, "You know, we can share one. For now. You know, if you want. Until you can get your own I mean."

He lifted his head up from his hands. "Seriously?" he was looking for the punchline.

"Yes seriously," I rolled my eyes. I tore a piece of paper from my notebook and a pen from inside my locker. "Here's the combination, and the locker number if you forget. Just don't leave any clothes or food in there," I warned him.

"So I can't use this to keep my dirty socks?" he joked.

I could help but laugh.

"Where you going?" he asked me. I turned around to see that he genuinely wanted to know where I was going.

I shrugged. "The library I guess."

"Don't you have class young lady?" he scolded playfully.

I think I might get used to him, he's not incredibly horrible to be around. He might be fun to hang out with.

I made a face. "I'll pass."

He just laughed at my expression. "Fine, but can you at least show me around. Me being new and all," he flashed me a smile showing his ultra-white teeth.

Dazed for a second. I obliged. I took his schedule from his hand.

I looked at him skeptically. "Seriously?" I laughed at Edward's fourth period. It was good old Hank Beail.

"What?" he looked over my shoulder to see what I saw, his face was inches away from mine.

"You gave class with my buddy. I'm coming with you," I smirked, looking at his confused green eyes. "Come on."

I walked through the halls, turning at the right places. Edward had to slow down his pace to keep up with me. It wasn't my fault that my legs weren't as long as his. We were standing in front of Beail's classroom. I tilted my head studying the closed door carefully.

I could see Edward from the corner of my eye, looking at me oddly then turning his torso to the door and tilting his head just so, mimicking my actions perfectly.

"Why are we doing this?" he asked me with a smile on his face.

I turned towards him. I stood on my tippy-toes to try and look him in the eye. "It's called savoring the moment."

He just laughed. "Because . . . ?"

"You'll see," I grinned mischievously.

I walked up to the door, and rapped on it sassily. Not waiting for an answer, I opened the door anyway. Mr. Beail was in the middle of a lecture and didn't even bother looking up. I cleared my throat and then he whipped his head in my direction. I gave him the most dazzling smile I could scrounge up.

"Hello there, Mr. Beail," I grinned. I walked over to one of the empty desks—conveniently there were only two empty ones right next to each other. Edward was behind me, following me reluctantly.

"Ms. Swan? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the Principal's office, or at home." he said furiously.

I placed my notebook on the desk and sat down with my legs crossed. "Well, I did go to the Principal's office, thank you. You have little faith in me," I sighed melodramatically. "And I'm here as the official Principal's Assistant on my official Principal's Assistant's duties." I pointed my thumb and mouthed, "New guy."

"Somehow, I don't believe that," he glared at with with narrow eyes.

"Actually Mr. Beails," I was surprised to hear that it was Edward's voice who was defending me. "She's telling the truth. I'm Edward Cullen—I'm new."

"Somehow, I'm skeptical," he said unassumingly. "I do not remember an Edward Cullen on the role list."

"Of course you wouldn't! I had to fix his schedule. Its probably not registered on your computer yet." I still had Edward's schedule so I walked up to the front of the classroom and handed him the paper. "See, Edward Cullen. Right there. Check your computer, unless you want me to do it for you."

"I can manage," he said. He walked over to the computer. He woke up the computer and typed in his username for the school's database and was about to type in his password when he looked at me and said, "Do you mind?"

I grumbled, "It's not like I don't know your password anyways."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," I flashed an innocent smile and turned around.

I loved how the entire class ignored the new teacher. The popular people started gossiping and eying the new kid seeing if he was worthy of their manicured claws. Then the socially challenged people stared as at Mr. Beails' and my conversation—Edward was one of them. I was surprised that Rosalie Hale was doing the same. Ms. Rosalie. Queen Bee, the top of the social ladder, the 'Mean Girl,' little miss popular, and whatever other generic name you'd like to call her. She was staring at me disapprovingly, but I could tell she was trying to hide the amusement from her sparkling blue eyes. I wonder why she isn't gossiping with her friends about Edward, that's what she usually does.

After he pressed eleven keys, I knew to turn around because he was done typing his password. I watched he searched through the databases for Edward's name. He found it, but he only found Edward's old schedule with P.E. For all six periods.

"I'm sorry Ms. Swan, but he's not in this class. And do you know how much trouble you can get into for plagiarizing school paperwork," he scolded.

I ignored him and asked, "Do you mind?"

"What—?" he stared at me like I was insane.

"Just sign out, please. Then watch." I saw the incredulous look in his eyes. "Please, can you trust me? For just a second."

He glared at me.

"Okay, whatever. Call the Principal's office after I do this one thing, just let me do it to prove to you that Edward's in this class," I said as convincingly as I could.

"Fine, you have six minutes," he eyed me distrustfully.

"That's all I need."

I typed in my official account: PAISABELLAS. I typed in my extremely complex password: myunclerox. Okay, I didn't choose it. My uncle made it up for me. The twins' have similar accounts with the same password except theirs is mydadissohip. So I'm grateful. I knew the files to go to, so the whole process went relatively fast.

"See," I pointed at the screen. "Beails, fourth period. Cullen, A. M. Edward."

His eyebrows furrowed together. "How do I know this is legitimate?" he asked still doubting me. This man has serious anger and trust issues.

I sighed. "You're account is lower in the school pyramid. It's below the Counselors and Office ladies. So yours would be the last one for system updates. That's why Edward isn't registered in this class according to your computer."

"But he's in yours because . . . ?" he asked.

"Because! Dude, look at my title! Principal's Assistant. I have my own account because one, the big guy trusts me." He started walking to the phone and dialing the Principal's number, but I just went on with my list as if I didn't notice. "Two, I need all this information for my PA duties. And three, I'm responsible."

"Hello?" he said into the phone ignoring me. What a bastard. "Hi Lynn."

"Tell Lynn I said hi!" I shouted loud enough for Lynn to hear me.

I could tell that she heard me because Mr. Beail's face turned from cocky and smug to upset and embarrassed.

"Um. Okay," he said with his eyebrows practically touching each other because his face so was scrunched up. "She wants to talk to you."

I reached my hand out from the chair. He looked at it in disbelief, but placed it there anyway.

"Hellloooo?" I made a big show of answering the phone.

"You owe me big time," Lynn laughed over the phone.

I grinned. "I know. But I always make up for it, don't I?"

"Of course you do," I could practically see her rolling her eyes at me. "Your uncle told me to give you two messages."

"Okay," I nodded unconsciously. I noted how she said uncle and not Principal.

"He wants to tell you that your Dad is working all weekend for an extremely difficult case at the station and your sleeping over at their house."

I grimaced. He still thinks of me as a kid even though we both know I can take care of myself. I guess it comes with the territory I guess. He also won't let me or his daughter date. I mean, he has a large influence on that because he is the Principal and everything. Not like it stops her from dating anyhow.

"And he wants you to tell his daughter that she has to wear another jacket for the rest of the day," her tone was displeased.

"Which one?" I asked knowing exactly which jacket she was talking about.

"Which one do you think?" Lynn said disapprovingly.

"She'll kill me," I groaned. And she would. It's strange. We never had the best relationship ever, but she still talks to me to a certain degree. Even at school which is even stranger.

Lynn laughed. "Good luck."

"Can you get me through to the Principal?" I asked her, watching an impatient Hank.

"Sorry," her voice was amused. "He's in a meeting."

"No he's not," I rolled my eyes. "He's got nothing planned."

"Sorry honey," she sighed.

"Okay Lynn, I'll see you later," I said.

"Goodbye sweetie," and she hung up the phone.

I sat up and placed the phone on the receiver. I sat back down on the chair and whipped out my cell.

"Why did you hang up the phone on the Principal?!" Hank Beails demanded turning a strange purplish color. "And put your cellphone away!" he bellowed.

I pressed speed dial five and listened for the dial tone. "Do you want to speak to the Principal or what?" I snided to him.

"You're going to be in so much trouble young lady—!" he warned pointing his finger at me. Hadn't his mother taught him that pointing fingers is rude?

"Bella?" my uncle asked. He sounded carefree, but puzzled to why I'm calling him when I'm supposed to be 'on the job.'

"Hello Mr. Principal, Chief sir!" I said for Hank's benefit.

"Bella . . . Why are you calling me. During school hours. While you have an assignment?" he questioned me.

"Well, Mr. Principal sir, I was doing my assignment, when this teacher, Mr. Beails," I emphasized. I heard a deep rumbling sound on the other end. "Didn't believe my authority. He thought I was plagiarizing fraud! And a bad seed!" I said sounding hurt, which I was.

He laughed. "You? Plagiarizing and a bad seed?" he repeated in disbelief.

"I know!" I exclaimed. Putting my feet on the desk.

Hank had past the red phase and the purple phase and was heading to the blue phase. I was worried he might combust on the floor right now and I'll be the one to clean up the mess.

"Um? I think he wants to talk to you," I said, losing all signs of confidence.

"Put him on," Uncle Tim lost all signs of playfulness.

"Don't do anything rash," I repeated myself from earlier.

"Isabella," he commanded.

I gulped.

I covered the microphone and said, "He's mad."

"He should be!" Hank let out the breath of air he must have been holding.

I shook my head. "Not at me, you."

He looked at me dubiously.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," I murmured handing him the phone.

"Principal Swan! I—" I could hear that he was cut off by my uncle's screams of fury.

I winced at the intensity.

Hank paled suddenly. He lost all traces of authority and became a weak little kitten in a matter of seconds. Uncle Tim has that way of intimidating people.

"Um. Okay sir, I will. Uh-huh. Okay," he said quietly in defeat. He snapped the phone abruptly shut and turned to me with a furious expression. "I'm confiscating this for use on school property without permission."

I nodded my head apathetically. "Sure. Can I go to my seat now?"

"You aren't in this class," he said, clearly wanting me out.

"But Principal Swan told me to, and I quote, 'escort him to his class and show him around the school.' And I absolutely do not ever back down on my word," I looked into his eyes waiting for some sort of challenging response or behavior, but there was none.

"Fine." He's given up! "But not a word or else you both are out of here for the day."

"Yes sir!" I mocked saluted him, winking. "Not a word, Hank Beail sir!"

As much as I just wanted to relish the moment, I headed back to my original seat and slumped into it. I started to doodle random things, as Beail rambled about respect lacking in modern day societies. He tried to tie it to Spanish, but did a poor job at that. And even though I wanted to make a slight remark on it, I held back my tongue. I put this man through enough for the day.

The bell rang, indicating lunch, and I walked over to the teacher's desk.

"Hank," I said. I took pity in this man. I really did. I tore a piece of paper from my notebook. "On here contains the serial code of a pocket knife that Uncle Timmy, or Principal Swan, has wanted forever. He likes Cuban cigars. Likes imported bears and Jack Daniel's whiskey. He has diabetes so no sweets or sugar. But give him Perrier water, but not Pellegrino—he hates Pellegrino. But he loves vanilla ice cream with lots of chocolate sauce. But it has to be sugar-free ice cream, but real Hersey's chocolate sauce. And he likes fancy pens. Don't forget to mention something about the military. My grandpa was in the military—coast guard. And in case you didn't get it all, it's on the slip of paper."

"But what?" he asked in disbelief, he was holding the paper too tight it might turn into shreds.

"Hey there, don't ruin that, it has top secret information," I said jokingly.

"But why?" he asked in disbelief.

"What? Do you, like, not want this job? Because if that's the case, I want that piece of paper back," I held my hand out knowing he wasn't going to put it in there.

"You were so hellbent on firing me," he said trying to make sense of my actions.

"I wasn't, you were just acting like an ass," I scoffed.

He looked at me warningly.

"No offense," I held my hands up, in a sign of peace. "But you were."

Edward chuckled at my side. I forgotten that he was even there.

"Well, Hank, I've gotta go and have lunch," I said. "See ya, tomorrow!"

I was walking out the door with Edward at my heels.

"It's Mr. Beail!" he called out.

"Sure Hank!"

Edward was eying me oddly.

"What?" I turned towards him.

"You're one strange girl, you know that?" he said with a smile.

"Um, thanks. I think," I muttered.

Even though it was raining, as usual, I stood under a tree where it had a bit of a shielding from the rain. I sat on the squishy earth, not caring if I soiled my pants or not.

"It's not a bad thing," he said sitting next to me on a drier piece of grass. Now why hadn't I seen that?

"Uh-huh," I said, bringing my legs up to my chest.

He was still looking at me weird, so I had to turn to see his face.

"Why are you still here?" I asked.

"Well, I don't really know where else to go," he chuckled, playing with a leaf between his fingers.

"Your brother?" I suggested.

"Emmett brings to much attention too himself," Edward said with a smirk.

"Really?" my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Edward just laughed. "I know, it's such a surprise."

"And the girl?" I asked once more.

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know where to look for her," he answered truthfully.

"Uh-huh."

"And my mom would want to hear that I made new friends to day," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

I raised an eyebrow. "So I'm your excuse for your mother?" I repeated trying to understand him.

"Exactly," he grinned.

"Oh thanks," I said sarcastically.

"Can I use your phone for a second?" I asked him.

"Sure," he reached into his front pocket and pulled out a sleek new phone and tossed it to me.

I had to reach to make sure I didn't drop it—I wasn't exactly known for my hand-eye-coordination.

I opened it and started texting my cousin her message from her dad: its bella. ur dad said 2 pt on ano/ jcket. Dnt kill the mssngr. I sent it. I quickly deleted the number and message before handing it back to him.

"Thanks," I smiled weakly at him.

"No prob," he grinned back.

The silence was nice. It wasn't awkward in the least. It was . . . peaceful. But I decided that we should better go before the wet ground soaks all the way through my pants.

"Well, come on," I said. "Let's look for your sister. We can't do it unless we actually look for her."

I hoisted myself up by the tree trunk. Edward smoothly stood up waiting for me to get up completely. I didn't like the way my pants felt. They were too wet. I twisted myself to see if I could see if there was a wet spot on my backside. Of course, I couldn't.

My thoughts were interrupted by Edward's roaring laughter.

"What?!" I said glaring at him.

"You look like an idiot," he gasped between laughs.

"Yeah, thanks, again," I sighed. "Is there anything on my butt?" I asked him honestly. I wasn't one of those whores who do this thing for attention or for some guy to check her out. I just want to know if I have some sort of crap on my ass.

Edward cocked his head to the side and laid his eyes on my derrière for a little too long. I shoved down the blush coming to my cheeks.

"Is there anything on there?" I repeated the question again since I got no answer.

Edward raised his head with one side up his mouth pulled up. "You have a lot of brown stuff on your butt."

"What?!" I shrieked.

He checked again.

"Yup. All over," he laughed again.

"That's not funny!" I exclaimed. I crossed my arms frustrated. "What am I supposed to do know?!"

I was going over about a dozen ways to try and fix aloud, when I saw a headful of blonde hair and a tall lean body looking slightly lost walking around in what looking like circles. I broke out into a grin when I saw who it was.

Forgetting about my current derrière's state and rushed up to him. I practically tackled him down, squealing.

"Where have you been Bella?" he asked me annoyed. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Hank Beail took away my phone," I grumbled, tightening my arms around his neck so I wouldn't fall.

He chuckled. "It's only the first week, Bella."

"So?" I looked at him defiantly. "It's also a Friday. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"You got in trouble the first week," he said with a grin.

"Did not!" I gasped feigning shock. "I would so not get in trouble."

He looked at me with a smirk. "Right."

"Bella, why is your whole back wet?" he pried my arms off of his neck.

"It's raining genius," I put my arms on my hips.

"Um, I'm sure the rain isn't brown, Bella," he was trying to contain his laughter now.

"So?!" I said defensively. An ingenious idea stroke me. I don't know why I didn't think about it before. It was absolutely perfect!

"Give me your pants," I held my hands out waiting.

"What?!" he looked at me as if I was insane.

"Come on, give me your pants!" I said once more putting more emphasis on pants.

Someone cleared their throat.

I turned around expecting a teacher, but it was only Edward, drenched in the rain. Both were staring at me intently for some sort of explanation. It was obvious that Edward saw our embrace, but I hope he didn't take it the wrong way. Assumptions are a horrible way to start things out.

"Oh! Um. Edward, this is Jasper Hale. Jazz, this is Edward Cullen," I said.

Jasper put a protective arm around me. It was uncomfortable and wet, but I knew better than to force it off.

"Now," I ignored the tense atmosphere. "Jazz, give me your pants."

"You're insane," he looked down at me incredulous.

"Jazz, did you drive today?" I asked him.

"Nope," he said, not loosening his arm.

"Um. Okay, then. I'll give you a ride later," I said lamely.

"I think that's Alice over there," Edward indicated with his head. "I'll go and catch up with her. See ya Bella."

"I. Um. Edward! Wait, Jasper is—!" I tried calling out, but he already left.

I frowned at Jasper getting out of his grasp. "I hope your happy," I said gruffly.

"I am," he grinned at me. "Oh, come on Bella. You know I'm only doing that because I love you."

I narrowed my eyes at Jasper. "There are no words," I grumbled walking away from him.

Jasper just followed easily. "Oh come on Bells, you're not really mad at me."

I stopped to glare at him.

"Fine. Okay. Whatever. Just leave me to walk all the way home," he pouted his lower lip slightly.

"I hate you," I muttered.

Jasper grinned. "Does that mean I get a ride home?" he asked innocently.

"If your late, I'm leaving you," I grumbled.

"Your the best," Jasper hugged me tightly.

The bell rang and he released me. I headed towards the office again.

"Are you even going to class today?" he asked.

"Well, I was supposed to chase Edward around all day because he's new and all. But you made him leave, so I'm going to see what his next class is so I can track him down," my anger towards Jasper was fading.

He winced. "Sorry about that."

"It is your fault," I pursed my lips together.

"I'll make it up to you, I swear! Please Bella, forgive me!" he pleaded.

"Well . . ." I tapped my finger to my chin. "There's one thing . . ."

"I like these pants," he narrowed his eyes at me, with a protective hand on his jeans.

I giggled.

"No, not that. But I do want my phone back," I said mischievously.

"Okay, what's the room number?" he asked.

I gave it to him.

"Okay, I'll give it to you after school, before you drop it off."

"You better," I threatened weakly.

He laughed, leaving for class.

I headed back to the office. My uncle wasn't in his office—he was probably still at lunch—but I went in his room regardless. From my backpack on the floor where I left it, I took out my laptop and turned it on. I waited as it vibrated to life. I typed in my password for the computer and quickly signed in to the school's database quickly. I found Edward's schedule easily since it was third time I had to look for it today. He had Banner, Biology II. Hmm. That's weird. I have that class now. Well, I guess I'm going to have to go to class after all.

I left the office without a sound. I slung my backpacker over one shoulder and headed out for Banner's class. But first thing is first. I have to find the new kid. I've never not finished my PA's assignments before and I'm not going to start now.

It was surprisingly easy to find Edward. He was wandering around the hallways uninterested in finding Banner's class.

"Hey!" I called out. I ran up to him trying to catch up. Either, Edward didn't heard me and just happen to decide to walk really fast right then or he heard me and doesn't want a thing to do with me right now. And I can't blame him with the way Jasper treated him.

"Edward, hold up," I tripped on a crack on the floor and fell, catching myself with my hands. I positioned myself so that I was sitting down, while I observed my hands. They were only moderately scratched up, nothing serious.

Edward must have heard or seen me fall because he stopped at looked at my hand with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I've been through worse," I muttered. Honestly, I could hardly feel the pain.

"Good," his eyes turned cold as he began to walk away.

"Wait!" I grabbed Edward's jeans. He looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. "My job was to show you around the school for the rest of the day, and I intend to do that."

He looked at me strangely. "Are you sure your boyfriend won't mind you following me around all day."

I bursted into a hysterical fit of laughter.

He frowned.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I know, it's weird, but Jazz's is so not my boyfriend!" I wiped the tears from my face.

"Really? The way he was looking at me and the way he was touching you made me think otherwise," he looked at me, still unbelieving.

I tilted my head to the side. "Looking at you and touching me, how exactly?"

"Like he was yours and I was trespassing," he said gruffly. I guess he didn't find it as amusing as I did.

I rolled my eyes. "Jasper . . . ," I grumbled. I tried to explain, "He's a little touchy."

"Now that's an understatement," he scoffed bitterly. I don't know why he was acting like that. He was completely different before Jasper.

"Come on, let's go to to class. It's no big deal," I tried convincing him.

His face changed suddenly, one minute he looked murderous anger, and then the next strangely calm. Too calm. The sudden apathetic disposition was too good to be true; was he schizophrenic or something? Oh god. That is just typical of me to get stuck with a schizo. Just my luck.

"You're right," he said, again way too calmly. "Let's go to class."

Edward brushed by me heading for the classroom. I followed his footsteps trying in vain to keep up. I couldn't of course. He didn't even give me a chance to. By the time I reached the door he was already inside talking to Mr. Banner.

Mr. Banner looked up expectantly. "Well, I'm glad to see that you've graced us with your presence," Mr. Banner remarked. I guess my reputation of missing classes repeatedly proceeds me.

I grimaced. "Um, yeah. Hi."

"Well, you and Edward are going to sit over there," he pointed to the two vacant seats. Together. At the same table. Together. How inconveniently convenient. "Since you two are the last ones here and all. I hope you'll enjoy your seats for the rest of the year."

"Seriously?" I said skeptically. "The whole year?"

Mr. Banner grinned. "Seriously."

I grumbled to myself sitting in one of the empty seats. Edward did the same, but he scooted his chair, audibly, away from me. He kept his eyes forward the whole time. Considering how I already finished the work for this class I didn't really feel the need to actually pay attention. So instead of doing that, I looked for Wuthering Heights but it wasn't it my backpack. So I spent the rest of the time pondering the exact location of where I might of placed it.

"Bella," an irritated voice called me.

"Yes," I looked up, probably with a dreary expression.

Edward was standing overhead looking at me exasperatedly running a hand through his hair.

"I thought you were supposed to be the one taking care of me," I could tell he was trying to fight a grin. A grin. A grin is good. That means I'm almost completely forgiven.

"Right," I sat up straight banging my knee on the the wooden part of the black table. "Damn it!" I clenched my teeth together to prevent other swear words from coming out.

"Nice," Edward commented. He broke out into a laugh.

I narrowed my eyes. "You think that's funny? You think that's funny, don't you?" I stomped away trying to get away from Edward. It was a pity that he kept following me. I liked him better when he was mad because he didn't feel the need to walk next to me laughing at my pounding knee.

"I'm sorry, that wasn't that funny," he tried to keep a straight face. "Can I see your knee?"

"What?!" I stopped looking at his face. It was so sincere that my expression changed unwillingly. "Um. I . . . Err. Sure."

He bent down and touched it gingerly. I winced. He tsked.

"Well," he stood up to his full height, with humor back in his eyes. "I can see that your overreacting because it's just a minor bruise."

"So? It still hurts," I looked away from him and started walking. "What's you next class?" I asked, it was extremely hard for me not to look at him, no matter how much I wanted to.

"Phys Ed. It's unimportant," Edward said. "Come on, let's go somewhere else."

"And skip?" I couldn't help but to look at him.

He shrugged. "Yeah. And what do you call hiding in the office all day long?" he challenged me playfully.

I straightened up trying to be as tall as him, but it didn't work. He may not have been as tall as Jasper, but he still is a bit of a monster in the height department.

"It's called being a Principal's Assistant."

"Hm. So that's what they call it now?" he grinned. "Now let's go be Principal's Assistants else where shall we?"

"But I—" I was caught off guard when he pressed his finger to my lips, I completely froze into place.

"But, one period is meaningless," his voice was so smooth, that it was hard to say no.

"Fine," I gave in. "But where do you plan on taking me?"

"The only place I know," he grinned. We started walking and from the certain turns we took I knew exactly where we were going before we even reached it.

"The parking lot?" I said confused. "Why are you taking me to a parking lot?"

"Because that's where you park a car," Edward laughed.

"I know that," I shoved my hands into my pockets. "But why are you taking me there."

"So we can hang out in my car—dry," he emphasized.

He did have a good point. Talking in the rain isn't the best thing to do. We walked to a silver Volvo. It was a nice car I guess, but a car none the less. Edward took out his keys hastily, wanting to get out of the cold rain as much as I did. He unlocked the doors with ease and I followed his example of going in the car. He turned the keys in the ignition and flicked on the heater.

It was quiet for a little while. Neither of us knowing what to say or where to start. So I just stared out the window listening to the rain patter against the window leaving drops against it. I used my finger to trace light patterns around each of them.

"Don't you ever get tired of just sitting there all day with that bald man?" he asked suddenly. I was surprised at the sound of his voice and how it gave my body a strange reaction.

"That bald man," I gripped something in my pocket, annoyed. "Happens to be an awesomely cool bald man."

Edward just laughed. "Of course. But don't you ever want someone else's company?" he asked me genuinely.

"I have Lynn," I replied looking into his deep green eyes trying to make sense of what he was saying.

"Someone your age," he tried once more with a smile.

From the short conversation I didn't notice how close our faces had gotten. I could practically feel the heat radiating from his body. And the closes made me see the contours of his face more closely. His nose was straight for the most part, but it was slightly crooked. It was such an intricate detail, that you had to be up close to even realize it's existence. And his eyes had these golden flecks around the pupil. I could get lost staring into them.

"I have Jasper," I had to remember to answer.

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say because Edward retreated his head. "Ah, dear, dear Jasper."

"What does that supposed to mean?" I pulled back studying his angry features.

"Nothing, right?" he said almost accusingly.

"I don't have to deal with this," I gathered my stuff from my lap. "I'm leaving."

We glared at each other for a minute.

"Okay," his breath blew into my face.

"Okay," I opened the door, stood up, and slammed it with as much force as I had.

I walked in the rain looking for my truck. It was exactly where I left it. School must have gotten out sometime between Edward's and I's fight because Jasper was leaning leisurely against my truck. He grinned when he saw me.

"I was starting to think you forgot about me," he said.

I opened the door and leaned across the seat to unlock his side. Jasper slipped inside shaking his wet hair. I revved the engine aggressively.

"Whoa, someone's upset," Jasper observed.

"You have no idea," I grumbled.

Jasper filled the truck with mindless random chatter that I was thankful for. It eased the atmosphere immediately. Even though I was still mad, I was more relaxed knowing that Jasper was here. It had been like that since we were kids. Even in tough situations, Jasper had always had this way to calm me down and relax me, which isn't an easy task. He could also get us out of a lot of trouble by charming people. Guys or girls. Straight or gay. It's an amazing talent that must come from Aunt Stacy's side of the family because I can't do that at all.

I drove to my house quickly getting everything that was necessary for spending the weekend with Uncle Tim. I already had my iPod, laptop, and phone—due to Jasper and his incredible talent of charming people. All I needed was my bag of necessities and clothes for a couple of days. It was easy and quick. I headed back to the tuck with only an extra duffel bag that I placed in between Jazz and I. That's when I started driving to Jasper's place and I would have to endear, yet again, another weekend with my Uncle Timothy and Aunt Stacy. They aren't horrible hosts or anything, but knowing them they probably have something cooked up for me to do. And I wasn't exactly ecstatic about whatever that something is.


Author's Note: Did you like it? I can't know unless you review. So press the pretty purplish button.