Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, and everything you don't recognize.

Dear Reader,

THIS IS A WARNING. This is an Edward-centric fanfic; not Bella-centric. It's an alternate universe. All are human. There will be an original character. I will try to keep from bashing Billy and Jacob Black, and Sam Uley as much as possible; but I make no promises.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

June

Dedicated to Miss Ferrin Landry. Thanks for giving me the license to keep going with this.

Thanks to my beta readers: Bella4Edward, I couldn't have decided on where chapter one ends without you; technically a lie, for being a great sport (you know what I mean!) and flamingo1325, you are awesome – rock on!

It Didn't Matter

Chapter One: Only Seventeen

?/?/2029

I had to hand it to Fate. She really knew how to play with her subjects and make them know it was her doing.

I approached the forlorn figure of a young man, nearly eighteen. He was sitting on a bench in a park, letting the rain drench him. I handed him a towel and a jacket before setting another on the spot beside him and covering both our figures with an umbrella.

I had been afraid of this. I've seen the signs. I thought I had warned him enough. But it seems that whatever he felt, he really wasn't ready for. I didn't speak, intent on letting him do so first.

"Dad?" My son's eyes darkened and were full of pain. I would know that look anywhere. I had it more than once, when I was his age. "So, who told you?"

He looked like me, except for the hair. That dark mop on his head, he got from his mother in abundance.

But that wasn't just the quality he got. My son was very perceptive, just like his mother, my wife. "I just know, kiddo."

He scoffed. "Are you going to tell me the same shit everyone's been telling me, then?"

I smiled wryly. "Nah. I know I've told you enough in advance. But I will tell you, it does get easier… over a long period of time."

"How do you know?"

"Kid, I have about twenty-five years on you. Give me some credit!"

He laughed, his green eyes (like mine) sparkling. "So being old comes in handy sometimes, after all."

I ruffled his hair, earning a lovely squawk of indignation from him. "Well, your old man might have been through the same sort of thing when he was your age."

His jaw dropped. "No way, you and…" he didn't continue the sentence when I just nodded. He was silent for a while before he said, "Uncle Emmett told me something about that! But I never believed it."

I nodded grimly, "Well, believe it. Your uncles and their wives were front row-and-center spectators and had season tickets."

"So what happened?"

"I came to the conclusion that enough was enough. Then I pursued your mother relentlessly until she gave in. Well, there were a couple of bumps along the way. But, they were minor and insignificant."

"So, you guys just got together? I mean, I could honestly see how things turned out… but that must have been messy."

"Yeah, you're right. It wasn't easy and it was really messy, but it didn't matter – I love her that much."

"So, what should I do? Pursue the girl until we get married? Because everybody says I'm like how you were with mom, dad. I think forever when I see Jane." He muttered the last. "Well everybody but her, anyway."

I sighed. "As a parental unit, I think this is something I cannot tell you exactly what you should do. No matter how much I want to. I can only guide you, right now. So I'll tell you my story."

My son made himself comfortable as I began my story.

"I was in love with my best friend, who happened to be a girl. We looked like childhood sweethearts, and it never mattered to us that we weren't. Years passed by and high school rolled along. Every one we knew assumed we were together and left us alone, betting on the day when we would officially announce that we're together."

I saw him roll his eyes. He was about to interrupt when I raised a hand - he took it as a sign to remain quiet. My story was not as trite as he thought, or as he would think. And I knew him well. The reason my wife and I have never told our son of how we got together was because he would always jump to conclusions. As I usually did, and still do - if I had to be honest.

So I continued, "But then my best friend met a boy, who also happened to be my friend. We went on a trip to a local beach before our sophomore year started. She became infatuated with him especially when their fathers, who turned out to be fishing buddies, egged them on to be together and struck a relationship with him at the end of that year."

Looking back now, I'm actually very surprised I never saw it. I guess, I was just too blind, and self-involved.

"Sounds familiar. Except for the field trip and the fathers egging them on."

I chuckled at my son's evident sarcasm. "Yeah. That summer before junior year, though – I was lucky. We went on a summer field trip to Europe, which we signed up for before she met him. So I didn't have to see them. And it didn't seem like anything has changed between us when we toured Europe. But then, we got back and senior year hit. The other guy was always there, marking his territory, kinda like a dog." I smiled at the memory, knowing everyone but she thought of him like a little mutt.

"You mean he peed on her?"

"Not quite, but he might as well have. He kept dousing himself with aftershave and some matching cologne; so that she'd smell like him. She never really minded, having become desensitized to his smell. But other minded. The girls your uncles and I knew, who had actually admitted this to me, once told me that they could be ten feet away from him with the wind blowing the other way and they would still be able to smell him as if they put their faces on his neck."

My son made the most fantastic face. "Ew."

"So in that aspect, I had some sort of consolation. But one Friday in my senior year, in October, everything changed."

I closed my eyes, and told my son all I knew. I spared him no detail as I told him this:

I've decided I've had enough of everyone's pity and everyone's looks. I've just had it. So what if she was the only girl I've ever dreamed of being with? So what if we've been best friends since I can remember? So what, if I loved her so much and she was with someone else?

It's not like she knew how I felt. I never told her – never admitted it out loud to anyone, and I don't blame anyone, least of all her, for not piecing the puzzle together. But, it's not like I didn't have her in my life at all. I was glad that we were at least friends. I know I was incredibly masochistic. But, I was still happy to be part of her life. Even if it wasn't the part I wanted, exactly. That I was just her best friend.

It didn't matter that her boyfriend, who was an immature turd by the way (although it was apparent that our friends and I were very biased about this), was very churlish and threatened by every guy who looked her way, even me – like I can steal her from under his nose. She didn't even know how I felt about her. It didn't matter that said boyfriend got to kiss her, when it was I who should be the one doing so.

It was I, after all, who had put her back together after her parents separated. Her mom neglected her, ran off and left her with her father. It was she who helped me through my own issues when others simply didn't understand. We helped the other battle each others' demons. That was what mattered.

It didn't matter that I love her, while she loves someone else. It didn't matter, that she's with someone who's also my friend. She and I are friends. Best friends. That's what matters. Pathetic loser that I am, I'll take what I can get from her; even if all she could give me was just friendship. I was selfish that way. I wanted her, even if we were just friends.

But nevertheless, I was tired of all the pity glances, the stares, the strong thoughts that seem to tell me that they – even complete strangers, as it were – were sorry to witness her being with someone else.

So, I did what any other seventeen year old would do. After all, I was only seventeen.

It was after school that Friday, and I had asked her to ride with our other friend. Though she had sensed that I was all out of sorts, she understood me well enough that I needed so much space that I needed to go somewhere alone and let me be.

I then sped to my car, and peeled out of the school parking lot; fully knowing that it unnerved her. I'd apologize later, but right then and there I needed to feel the car in swift motion. I had no control of her feelings any more than I had control over mine. My car is the only thing I could control; and that soothed and made me happy. Even if it was just for a little while. I zoomed down the deserted roads of our hometown, got onto the local highway and sped up even more.

I left, but everyone knew I would be back. Of course, I was a masochist. I couldn't help but need to be around her. Couldn't help but just go back for more torture. However, for the next couple of hours, I would be by myself and was able to gather the strength I needed to face through another week, another month, maybe another year just watching her not being with me.

When I ran away that Friday after noon, I never knew what my actions then would bring. But I'm glad, I had done what I did.

And as the tale unfolded, I felt like I was seventeen again and time turned back for me.

Friday October 3, 2003

That morning he drove her to school.

"Hey," She greeted him as they got out of their houses at the same time. The action having been a constant since they were in grade school.

He longed to wrap his arms around her, and kiss her before getting in the car. But there were three things stopping him. Firstly, they were outside. And both hated blatant public displays of affection that were not hugs. Secondly, he knew she didn't feel the same way. Thirdly, she was someone else's – more importantly, his friend's.

So he didn't. He did, however, greet her back. "Good morning, Isabella."

"Do you have to call me by that horrible name so early, Anthony?"

"If I lay off the first name, will you lay off my middle name?"

"Definitely." They shook on it the way best friends do. She got inside the car and he followed suit. He simply held out the small knapsack he brought to school in her direction and felt her take it from him without even looking to deposit it into the back seats. He shifted gears easily and coasted out of the driveway and into the open road. He felt her searching for his hand to hold as he sped up more than what the speed limit posted.

While no one ever goes the speed limit in their hometown, she still felt jumpy about it. But he supposed it was because he had the car with the functions to go the fastest and he goes up to thirty above the limit, if he felt particularly daring.

He let her take his hand and he moved it to properly hold hers. It was the closest he could get to hold a part of her the way he wanted to.

They didn't talk as he drove them to Forks High. Silence was golden, even more so when he was simply listening to her heartbeat and breathing, the very inspiration that compelled him to compose music for her.

He sighed as his mind replayed it for him. She didn't even know. It's been two years already. She still hasn't found out. Well, he guessed, if she hadn't found out he had the hots for her since forever – she wouldn't find out about the song, either. Even if he did hum the song to her every night on the phone to lull her to sleep.

All the better 'cause he will never have her in the foreseeable future. His hands tightened as he reached school property fairly quickly, a familiar car in sight. He felt her shift her hand in his to make him let go. When he released it, he felt an immense loss. He felt rejected. He did his best to keep his face from reacting where anybody could see it.

He pulled into a space and parked the car. As soon as his hand finished applying the hand brakes, the girl opened her car door and rushed outside.

As far as their established routines were, and they had more than a hundred, this was two weeks old. Well, it wasn't, not really. He had long gotten their things from behind their seats – but she had usually stuck around to fight him for the liberty, even if it was just formalities. But, since her… boyfriend (his blood boiled at the thought of his so-called friend, but really who needs enemies; and he definitely had them - when you have friends like him?) started to come around before school to see her before classes, well... you can figure it out.

He took some breaths to calm and collect himself then reached behind him into the backseat to pull both of their bags. He did his best to avoid gazing at them as he stepped out of the car.

Life is pretty cruel. Jacob was his friend. Was, being the key word. Well, according to him; anyway. On the outside, Jacob sill was his friend. Inside was a very different matter.

He befriended Jacob on a camping trip with his boy scouts troupe when he was seven and the other was six. The boy was naturally adept at all things nature. They had butted heads, but by the end of the trip, over campfire stories – they had learned to get along. Every summer since then, they hung out at La Push, until he graduated from Eagles the summer before freshman year.

Like the boys they were, they teased each other about their ladies. Like the boys they were, they didn't give each other any real details during those summers. And they never talked about their real interests.

And so, he never knew that his friend had harbored some feelings for the girl he is in love with.

Until last summer.

One would be amused to how the situation was actually funny. They seemed to hate each other at first sight, always getting on each others' nerves. She always called him a twerp. He called her a stuck-up prude. He eventually learned that his friends knew each other because of their fathers. But he encouraged both to get along and not act children. He never pieced the puzzle together, until he saw him kiss her to shut her up.

It was awkward between all three. And he tried to mediate between both, even if the action did betray him – but he did realize he never told anyone, never confirmed what everyone but two already knew so he wasn't about to start then and there.

He hoped she would make the right choice, him. But she didn't. He made his bed, he had to lay in it. (That didn't mean he would be kicking and screaming along the way, though.) Now, he had to suffer the consequences.

He had to watch, as usual, as the kid-in-an-adult's body had wrapped his arms around her possessively; right at, if not already crossing, the borderline between disgusting and appropriate.

But he couldn't help looking at them as he made his way to them to drop off her stuff. She was as pale as ivory, with chocolate locks tumbling down gently at her back. A dark tanned hand was buried in them as two black eyes "gazed" into her expressive, and warm brown eyes. He watched as he placed a quick kiss on her ruby lips before it quickly turned carnal, and felt very disturbed when she didn't smack him or any of the sort.

It seemed that public displays of affection didn't bother her anymore.

He felt a bit suffocated as the guy simply plundered her mouth in the middle of a high school parking lot with no regard for anyone.

A hand dropped onto his shoulder and he looked into the blank but sympathetic eyes of another friend. He felt a bit fortified at the gesture. He wasn't alone.

"Hey, Jasper."

"Hey yourself. Did you do the history homework?" Ah, he knew there was a reason he liked this friend the best. He always helped distract him.

"What kind of question is that?"

"A good one. You know Mr. Pullman never collects homework."

It wasn't a requirement that they take another history class in their senior year. They have fulfilled the required credits for social sciences. But they like history. So they took a course called Non-Western Civilization. A quarter of the year would be focused on Soviet Union history, a quarter on China, a quarter on Japan and the last quarter would be divided for the smaller Asian countries.

Their teacher, while extremely good – better than most, who only put their students to sleep, had one major flaw. He assigns homework he never collects.

Before Edward could even think how lucky Bella wasn't in that class, for the homework was rather difficult, he heard Jacob call out to him.

"Yo Edward, Jasper! Good morning."

Edward put on a great façade, "We have school. It's not a good morning."

"Ah, the joys of being on the reservation." School started at ten, for them.

"It's not nice to gloat," Bella quipped. She shook her head and momentarily stepped away from Jacob to retrieve her bag from Edward. "Thanks."

Edward didn't trust himself to speak so he just nodded.

The bell signaled for the students to go to their first class. And so, two of the four in the group did. Before Edward disappeared into the structure, he couldn't help looking back at the two, who sneaked in one last kiss. He had to smile a little when the heavens opened up and they had to separate prematurely.

And they say rain is bad.

- -

He and Jasper got to history with five minutes to spare. They slid into neighboring seats in the middle of the room. They didn't talk as they got their school things ready for class and looked over their homework for the last time. A small ruckus caught their attention as the popular kids walked into the classroom.

In the lead, a petite girl with long, black hair that didn't quite suit her face daintily sat in the seat in front of Jasper as her friends in Forks High sports jerseys and jeans pushed each other around. She was wearing a cheerleading uniform reminding the student body that it was game day, whether rain or … well, rain. It was Forks, after all. Usually, she had a smile on her face. One that didn't fail to bewitch Jasper, Edward noted. But today, she was plainly annoyed.

It seemed to the occupants of the class that the cause was one of the football players behind her.

"Newton, if you don't cut it out – I'm going to bash your head in." A burly figured brunet stated in all seriousness as he addressed a fairly fit yet chubby-faced blond. "Leave Alice alone."

The girl in question raised her hands in front of her. "Emmett, let me take care of this. Mike, I'm going to tell you one last time. No, I won't go out with you. Not if you scored a thousand touchdowns, not if you passed the winning pass. Not if you scored or kicked the winning point. My answer is no, always been no and always will be no!"

Mike, a normally cheery guy actually slumped at the harsh let down. But thank goodness for him, only twelve people took the class, and most (just excluding Jasper and Edward) would never gossip about the event because they were his friends… more or less.

Her fellow cheerleader with curly, brown hair nudged Alice. "Hey, that's a bit harsh."

Another one with ash-blonde locks clucked her tongue. "It's kind of like a totally cruel thing to say!"

"Jessica, Lauren; I've told him many times. I really have had enough. He can't keep doing this just because Bella has a boyfriend who would gladly kick his ass to the moon and back. Not to mention that she has a best friend who would be able to kill him and get away with the murder." At that, she gave Edward a smile. "I don't want him to be able to twist my response the way he wants to, anymore."

He shook his head. Alice Brandon was one of the three of the lot with an actual brain. The others were her cousin, Emmett McCarty and a sweetheart, Angela Weber – who was a state medalist gymnast (not cheerleader). The rest had questionable smarts.

Further discussion was cut off when Mr. Pullman went into the classroom. When the bell finally rang, the first sentence out of his mouth was, "Pass every homework assignment I have given you so far forward." The second was, "Good morning."

Ten immediately groaned while five simply rifled through their binders and handed them in.

Upon receiving the papers, Mr. Pullman began his lecture. "One out of five, huh? One out of five obeyed my instructions at the beginning of the year without question, and without complaint. One out of five of you actually did what you were supposed to do. If only one out of five in the world actually do what they were supposed to do, where would we end up? Years upon years ago, these odds would be accepted without question. When homo sapiens did not know much. When cultures were still developing, civilizations were forming. Today, that is not so excusable. Mankind had built buildings as tall as a hundred floors. People have developed technology nigh incomprehensible to those born as far back as seventy years ago.

"They say ignorance is bliss. But many of this world's catastrophes happened or happening is because of ignorance. You have roles in this classroom. You have roles in your families. You have parts to act as amongst the people you associate with. What do you do in each of them? Do you forsake your duties? Do you adhere to your positions and act accordingly to your responsibilities as such and such?

"I can say one out of five of you do."

As Edward listened to his words, he couldn't help but think that maybe he didn't.

- -

After history, he met up with Bella at her locker where she was already waiting. As usual, she was the only person who wasn't allowed to participate in gym when any sports were involved. She was completely accident prone, and it took her hitting the teacher in the head with a softball and kicking the ball in between the physical education department head's legs halfway through freshman year to receive a permanent excuse.

"Hey Trippy," Edward called out as he instinctively held out a hand which she took.

"Hey, Skippy."

"How was gym?"

"I got to catch up on my reading."

Edward ignored the urge to be sarcastic and make a comment about how Jacob did not give her much reading time nowadays. "Repeat, or new book?"

"I'm trying David Copperfield."

"Ouch. But that's quite different from your usual."

"I know."

"Think you'll be finished before we go to Seattle on Sunday with Jasper?"

Bella winced. Edward barely managed not to react and keep himself from letting go of her hand that instant. That wince was not a good sign. She never had to cancel plans for anything. Sunday was always Seattle Day for the three of them, Bella, Jasper and Edward. Unless one of them was sick (it was usually Jasper who gets the flu on the first week of November and doesn't get to come on two Sundays), or there was no family obligation, all three of them would make a trip there.

They arrived at their English class and slid into their seats. Jasper was already sitting on Edward's right and Bella settled in the chair on his left after she let go of their adjoined hands. Jasper slightly shook his head when he saw them. Edward never lets go of her hand first.

Braving the storm that was sure to follow, Edward asked the question he wasn't sure he wanted to ask. "So, what's up? We're on for Sunday, right? Unless I missed the memo, none of us is sick and the 'rents have their own plans."

The bell rang, saving her from verbally answering the question.

There was a soft tapping sequence from his right, which he ignored even if he understood his and Jasper's secret method of conversation. He couldn't let it alone. Despite Jasper's discreet warning, Edward ripped a loose leaf from his binder and wrote.

Swan, spill!

He folded it in half and simply placed it in a copy of Shakespeare Made Easy: Macbeth (the very title they were reading through and studying then) which he handed to Bella. He had to wait for a couple of minutes to get it back, as to not arouse the teacher's attention as she assigned the orators.

I was wondering if we could go down to La Push on Sunday instead. The Quileutes are having a cook out, and Jacob invited all of us for it.

Edward froze. Then he started to breathe slowly. In and out. In and out. He curled his right fingers into a slight fist, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He heard a pattern of soft taps that calmed him down, slightly. Easy, easy does it – breathe Edward.

Jasper could only do so much… he might be able to calm him down a bit, but he could never shut his feelings down completely.

Especially when he thought about the cook out which, was another one of Jacob's stupid machinations of showing off Bella to his friends and family. She could never see it. It was bad enough that he always crashed their movie nights. Now, he was overstepping the line.

He wrote his response.

Oh, I see. In that case, I'm heading to Seattle today. Would you mind catching a ride with Jasper home instead?

He focused on the subject – aided by a rhythm Jasper had begun to tap away at his desk, pushing away any other thoughts. Thought like ones where he would like to chop up Jacob Black into little pieces and then hike up Mt. St. Helena then drop all his remains into her mouth. During his wait for her reply, he failed to comprehend how Macbeth started to lose his mind; though he did try.

A few minutes later, he received her reply.

I hope you're not mad.

He didn't bother to wait this time. He had to give her his answer immediately. He scribbled away and sent it.

No I'm not, but I am a little disappointed. We were supposed to check out CD's and books.

He waited an agonizing five minutes before receiving her response.

I know, I'm sorry. Wanna go tomorrow instead? I could cancel on Jacob tomorrow since I'm canceling Sunday with you guys.

This time, he had to use more than five minutes to keep cool. But when he got himself together, he sent:

No need. I'll go today. Besides, I've been wanting to take the Volvo to the mechanic. I could use today to upgrade her.

He lied. He definitely lied. But she had yet to figure out that his excuses about taking the Volvo to the mechanic (especially since Jacob was a really good one) were all lies to get away from her. A few more minutes passed… and their paper conversation went like this:

Oh. Okay. Are you sure?

Sure, I'm sure.

Hey, why don't we have a movie night? With just the three of us?

He barely stifled a scoff at that. Before he had to think and write back, he was saved by the bell. Their system in exchanging notes, while very teacher foolproof, was very slow. But it gave them a chance to really pay attention to the class work in the Old Days, before Jacob. Or in this case – as it was more frequent after Jacob, it gave them a chance not to answer questions they didn't want to.

And right now, Edward did not even want to answer her inquiry.

He was sure to say something bad.

"So? Movie night?" He felt her hand clasping his again.

Hell. She was so stubborn.

Jasper saved him this time. "I can't do it tonight. I have to finish our homework for Monday and Tuesday. I have duties at the soup kitchen tomorrow and know I would be too wiped out when I get home after. And isn't Sunday Seattle Day?"

This time, Edward couldn't help himself. "Jacob is having a cook out at La Push on Sunday." The underlying derisive tone was not lost on Jasper, but Bella did not even notice it. "Are we going?"

He replied, "I'm going to do the project Mr. Pullman assigned us in Non-West. Get a head start on it so I wouldn't have to worry about it." He emphasized the next words for Bella. "It's really challenging this time."

"What do you guys have to do?"

Edward answered. "We have to make a Russian Newspaper. Everything would be in English, but the design must be in a different format, and the stories must all be about the Soviet Union. Actually, Jasper – it's not a bad idea to get a jump on it." He was glad that Jasper was there to bail him out. Especially since Bella wasn't focused on the movie night that would start out fine then have an uninvited guest.

"Oh." She sounded put out.

Edward suddenly felt like wiping the frown (which has yet to make an appearance) off her face. "How about we'll do this; we'll do the project but we'll stop at four or so. We'll just head there around five; then listen to Quileute folklore at the sun sets?"

She smiled at that. "I'd like that."

Jasper just inwardly shook his head as he saw Edward smile back.

- -

Lunch was no big affair. They took their seats somewhere off the side, close to the windows, in the circular layout of the room; far from the entrance and exit, and away from the lunch lines. Their rectangular table was made for eight people, but they usually had sole domination of the area. Once in a while, some people from the popular crowd would sit with them to ask help with homework; or in Alice and Angela's case – talk to Bella. But most of the school year, the table was occupied by just the three of them.

As usual, Edward's mom made him two cold cut sandwiches, this time both triple deckers were made of bacon, lettuce, tomato and mayo. He sliced one of the sandwiches into fourths, and handed one piece to Bella.

"Thanks Ed."

"No problem, Bella."

Jasper resisted the urge to sigh and roll his eyes (not that Edward noticed). On one hand, he really felt for his friend. On the other, he completely didn't. But they weren't his business, so he'd stay out of the entire affair… for now.

He took a look at his very own creation of peanut butter and jelly. While completely grade school, it gave him enough sustenance, until he gets a slice of pizza from the nice cafeteria ladies.

"Hey guys." Two voices chorused.

Bella brightly said, "Hey Alice, hey Angela."

Edward echoed the greeting with a less spirited tone.

Jasper just nodded.

Alice plopped down into a vacant seat at Bella's other side, which placed her directly in front of Jasper. She was finished eating, it seemed she lost her appetite early on. "I'm so tired of Mike."

Angela, who had a piece of bagel with cream cheese, told the group, "He is getting a bit unbearable, Bella."

Bella smiled wanly. "I'm sorry, Alice."

"It's not your fault. If anything, it's his. He keeps twisting our responses in a way that would suit his tastes."

"You've got to know what happened during first period, though!"

And at that point, Edward and Jasper decided to have a different conversation.

Tapping discretely, Edward asked Jasper if he wanted anything from Seattle; because he might actually go there during his planned joyride later on.

No, thanks. Just, focus on getting some peace before Sunday. We both know you'll need it.

Between Jacob and his dad, you bet I need all the meditation I can get tonight.

So, were you shocked as I was when Mr. Pullman collected all our homework? I am so glad we kept our stuff inside our binders.

Yeah, that was some class. It makes me won-…

Their silent conversation was interrupted by a jubilant Alice, tapping madly on the table.

Both guys quirked their brows at her. She smiled innocently. "Care to share?"

"What's to share?" Edward asked in a tone that matched her smile.

She pouted and looked at Jasper. "You guys were talking with those weird taps you do."

Without batting an eyelash, Edward responded, "If we wanted to share, we would have been talking out loud."

"Oh poo. Spoilsports. Anyway… Bella tells me you guys are planning to work on the history project most of Sunday." She of course, had quirked an eyebrow in a silent question. Escaping the Snog Fest?

Jasper nodded in acquiescence at… both of her questions. "I thought it'd be a good idea to get a head start on it."

She clapped her hands. "Can I join you guys?"

Edward inwardly chuckled and tapped. Go for it, man.

Jasper replied almost immediately after that, "As long as you don't steal my ideas."

"Why on earth would I do that? You shouldn't steal my ideas!"

And so Jasper and Alice started bantering back and forth.

Bella shook her head as she laughed at their childish antics. "They reminded me that I need to do something…" She looked around. No lunch monitors were looking her way. After she deemed the coast was clear, she whipped out her cell phone.

Edward had to look away from the obvious joy on her face. It was unbearable to look at… he took a gulp of water to get rid of the sudden sensation of being a man in a desert without hope of having civilization in sight.

- -

By the last class of the day, Edward was ready to bolt. Jacob had started sending Bella text messages during lunch, after she sent him one where she told him about Sunday. Many made her giggle, as most included the fact that Jacob was going to attempt matchmaking between Leah and Edward.

The bell signaled the end of the day, and many rushed to the doors; Edward (who was faster than them all) in the lead. He made his way to his locker and took what he need, left what he did not. The last object was dropped unceremoniously in the middle of the miscellaneous materials before he closed the door and slung on his jacket then shouldered his pack. He already had his keys in his hand as he ran through the throng of the crowd as swiftly as he could.

He exited the confining structure and got into his car. He slipped the key into the ignition and started the engine. Driving one-handed as he buckled up, he peeled out of the parking spot after two students got out of the way. He spotted two people he knew would disapprove of his reckless driving in the mirrors.

Normally, he would have slowed down. But he was angry. Right now, he didn't care. He knew he couldn't control anyone's feelings. But the Volvo was all he could control, and so he did. The speedometer rose until it reached a speed that satisfied Edward's fancy.

He slipped a CD mix into his player and turned up the volume; the rhythm, and guitar riffs drowned out his breathing, his heartbeat, and most of all, his thoughts. Then he sped away, intent on riding out his frustrations and eager to escape.

Miles behind… his cell phone was in his locker, abandoned. If it were with him, he would have answered it upon reading the screen. But he wanted to run away, be left alone and not found. "Hey, it's Edward. You know the drill."

He didn't see Bella Swan frown. He didn't see her end the call before opening up her phonebook to call another number. But he knew somehow that she understood him well enough to leave him alone as she gave his parents a call. Even if that understanding did not stop her from worrying, she had no clue what bothered her best friend so badly.

Dude Looks Like a Lady by Aerosmith was blasting through his car's speakers as he pulled up the gas station somewhere near Spencer Island on Route 2 at nearly ten that night. He bobbed his head along with the words Steve Tyler was singing as he got out of the car to pump gas. He took the nozzle from its sheath and unscrewed the cap of his gas tank, inserted it, clutched the handle and set it automatically then stepped back to let the gas magic work.

He stared out into nothingness, looking back on how he simply drove away from Forks and La Push. He didn't stop at Port Angeles, got on a ferry and then decided to sight-see houses in Edmonds, before going up on the I-5 to the borderline and then back down. He was sorely tempted to cross the border and into Canada, but he didn't. He was making his way back when he realized his car needed food. So he went and fed it.

He ignored how there were enough trees around him to remind him of the place he ran away from, 'cause he did run away from there even if it was only for a little while, and observed the roads. It was late enough that there wasn't a lot of cars about. But he did spy a couple of cars that he wouldn't mind getting, just for the sake of having them. An Audi Coupe here, a Porsche 911 Turbo there, a Jaguar Roadster…

Just as he got a bit carried away with his daydreams, he heard the tell-tale click of the gas nozzle and looked at the gas pump. Forty-nine dollars and fifty-eight cents. He carefully pressed the clutch of the nozzle to bump the numbers up, rounding the amount of gas at fifty before removing it completely and setting it back where it was supposed to be. He paid the machine with cash and got into the car, turning it on as he fastened his seatbelt.

He went on first gear and switched to the second gear as he got back on the local highway. Eventually, he made his way up to the fourth; playing it safe and following normal traffic speed since it was a Friday night and the cops were on the prowl for drunk drivers and the like. He was driving for a little while, when there was an extremely fast CR-V coming his way. It didn't look like the driver saw him. He narrowly avoided the incoming SUV, feeling as if he saw his life flash in front of his eyes, but he safely swerved out of the way and honked his horn.

In the rearview mirror, he saw the car swerve, and slowed down to a halt but hit a tree on the side of the road. His heart beat a bit faster.

"Shit." He uttered, feeling stupid for leaving his phone when it could have come in handy.

He did not need to look and see if there was another car coming, the road was deserted. He made a u-turn and pulled alongside the other vehicle, thinking as fast as possible. The hood was completely totaled, the windshield was broken and the air bags had already finished deflating. The engine was letting off smoke, and he wrenched his door open to get to the other car in time. He saw a girl with black hair, quite unconscious in the driver's seat, but thankfully no one else.

He yelled, "Hey, miss?," as he knocked on the window, but she did not stir. He tried the handle and it was luckily unlocked. As he thought about what to do, he breathed to calm down. Panicking never did anybody good.

He remembered from some first aid courses that until he has determined the extent of her injuries, he shouldn't move her unless there was a gas leak problem. She didn't look injured, at all, but she was unconscious. He checked her wrist and found that she had a pulse. He didn't know how to check her eyes for dilation problems or anything like that so he quickly, but thoroughly checked her body for blood or any obvious injuries.

There were a couple of scratches on her wrists, but they looked minor and insignificant. Her head and neck looked fine, it seemed her seatbelt and the air bag saved her from a world of hurt. But carefully, he reached over and unbuckled her. He made sure to hook her left arm around his neck and over his shoulder carefully then reached behind her back, and under her legs to lift her.

He pulled her out, which was difficult, given that she weighed more than she looked. With strength he didn't know he had, he hauled her all the way to his car, and settled her in the passenger seat; adrenaline fueling his system the entire time. He was very careful not to jostle her around when he set her down, as he didn't know if she broke anything.

Then he went back to the girl's car. The interior smelled of burnt air and rubber, and he quickly fumbled for her keys to turn off the SUV. He pulled the key out and looked around. He spotted a messenger bag on the passenger seat and grabbed that. It was pretty light, and he opened the main zipper to find out that it contained a cell phone, a wallet, a digital camera and an iPod Nano. Then he opened the compartment and pulled out the car wallet, and whatever it contained. He stuffed the items in the bag. Then he checked the little cubby in between the driver's and passenger's seat, taking the valuable contents and bagging them as well.

Then he returned to his car, locking the other car before he went. Before he moved, he shuffled through the contents of the girl's bag and searched for her phone. His heart raced as he couldn't seem to find the gadget among the million knick knacks in the bag. He didn't know if she had any internal injuries. He didn't know if she was fine. She looked like it. But he wasn't a doctor. He wouldn't know!

Thinking that a little bit of faith wouldn't hurt anyone in this situation, he prayed. He was feeling guilty. He might have caused the accident; if he didn't honk at her and maybe startled her; she might not be unconscious or falling slowly into a coma. He'd have an accidental murder on his hands. What would his parents say? Most of all, he was the only one present; could the reason of the accident be him? If she died… "Please, God. Don't let this girl die on me." Then, as if his prayers were answered he found it, and learned quickly on how to operate it.

He dialed 911 and waited for assistance.