The Counselor

Summary: Musings of a high school counselor… AH

ExB

Prologue

I was just pulling out my new notebook when she stormed into my office. Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail with a bobby pin holding the stray locks away from her face. That was different. She usually always wore her hair down, shrouding herself in the thickness of it, hiding the delicate features of her face. Without the covering of her hair today, I could see clearly the flushed pink tinting her cheeks and forehead. I nearly sighed, because I knew exactly what this was about.

I'd bet my weekly salary that he had been bothering her again.

Bella had started talking to me about two months ago, claiming her friends were no help on the particular subject in which she needed advice. Apparently, they thought the boy she was having problems with wasn't meaning any harm; he was only a jock, bored just like the rest of them of their miserable high school lives. Bella thought differently, pinning accusations on him that he was out to destroy her self-esteem.

As soon as I saw the look flash in her eyes, I grabbed the nearest writing utensil, preparing for an onslaught of insults and adjectives I wouldn't say in front of my mother regarding her problem.

However, this was not what happened. Instead, Bella paused before she sat down in the black swivel seat at the other side of my desk and slumped, looking utterly defeated. Her face went into her hands and she took a deep breath.

Now, this was what I was used to as a high school counselor. Crying students. But not from Bella. Never from Bella. I was sure that I was the first person to see her cry since probably very early on in elementary school, as she was an excellent hider of her emotions, especially tears. She'd told me before she'd never, ever let him see her cry.

I was surprised and therefore slow on handing her the box of Kleenex on my desk. She took one and wiped the wetness on her cheeks quickly, looking a little ashamed. She shouldn't have been. It was natural to cry. And she was a teenage girl, hormones running high and dealing with more than she could handle all at once. With taking care of her father and keeping up her GPA, being the mediator among her friends and fighting off the advances of numerous young men, and with her two jobs at the local nursery and Newton's, she was busy. She shouldn't have also had to take shit from insecure football players trying to make her life harder than it was. She was only seventeen.

"Bella, do you want to talk about it?" I entreated.

"If it's okay, can I just sit here for a little while? I'll spill my guts in a second."

I smiled sadly at her and nodded.

A little while later, she exhaled a long breath and began.

"Okay, so I'm being a coward. Not that I particularly like anyone seeing me cry… but I figured out of everyone, you were my best bet. You can't tell anyone anyway. I just had to get away." She glanced up at me for a minute, and I could see that fresh saltwater was beginning to collect in her eyes again. I shoved the tissue box toward her again. She whispered, "Thank you."

"Okay, this is big then," I said unnecessarily. "Tell me about it?"

"Yeah. Well, see, tomorrow is the anniversary of my mother's death."

Oh, dear.

"I, for one, see it as common courtesy not to mention such things loudly and purposely in front of me. For God's sake, is it not enough that she'd dead, but I have to hear him go on and on about the hows and the whys?"

The tears flowed freely now, albeit silently.

"He'd gathered a crowd," she sneered dryly. "Apparently, his dad had driven by on his way back from the hospital that day and seen it all. That brat was explaining in great detail…" Bella cut herself off, taking a slow breath and clenching her fists. "Well, you get the idea."

"Bella, I'm so sorry. That was cruel of him." I stopped for a second, mulling over an idea. I was about to open my mouth to suggest it, when Bella's voice rang loudly in my small space of an office.

"No," she'd said.

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" I defended.

"I do. It has something to do with you talking to him, and therefore me talking to him. I don't want it. I'll die happy if I never see the son of a bitch again."

Bella Swan was probably the only person in the student body who I allowed to swear in my office. Besides, she only used them when she felt strongly about something, and that was usually about the "brat" in question.

"Well, I'm the authoritative figure here," I told her. "Next week, during a study hall, you and Edward Cullen will be in my office. Together."

"But Mrs. Denali," Bella tried to protest.

"No, I'm serious. I think this will be good for both of you. I've had complaints from your teachers about you two fighting and disrupting class, having all-out verbal sparring matches in the hallway. It has to stop. You need to focus on your studies, both of you. Every week, one study hall. If it doesn't work, we'll try something else. I'll e-mail you."

"Please." The look on her face was pleading. She really, really didn't want to be in the same room as this boy.

However, this was for his benefit, too.

I didn't think it was a coincidence they were in all the same classes. I didn't think it was a coincidence that both of them happened to be thinking about applying to the same colleges. Personally, I thought they both thrived on the contact with each other. Bella couldn't ignore him, no matter how much he hurt her. That was obvious. But he had the option to leave her alone as well. He'd gotten in trouble before, no doubt. It was in his best interest to let her be. He couldn't do it.

I might have been biased on high school love, having married my high school sweetheart myself, but my fantasy of seeing both those two happy together wouldn't escape my mind. I was sure that her friends wouldn't help her for the same reason.

I was an adult, an educated, intelligent woman and shouldn't have been engaging in this type of thing. But I couldn't not interfere. It was plain to see Bella loved him; she covered it well with her justified indignation, but it was there.

If I could help it, they'd be together by the end of three months.

"Next week," I reminded her as she left my office the same way she came in.

A/N

Okay, so this is just a tiny little thing. But if it's going to continue, I'm going to need reviews. Interesting? Boring? Suggestions? I have some ideas, and I'll answer any questions you might have. Oh, and the counselor is indeed Tanya. It will be in her POV, but there will be excerpts of E/B, too. Thanks for reading, and I love you all!