Ella Johnson was not your typical teenager. Her family is... something else and for reasons outside of her control, she needs to hire a fake boyfriend to be her date for her cousin's wedding. She knew it was a bad idea to pick Jasper Hale. Now her life will never be the same again.

Chapter 1: Welcome to my life

You know those days when you just don't want to get out of bed? Yeah, this was one of those days. Mom barged into my room an hour ago and placed that damn card on my nightstand. So not cool.

My family is not a normal one. I mean, it's not like we're something supernatural or some big crime syndicate or anything cool like that. No, we just tend to get married ridiculously young and if you don't at least have a fiance by the time you are 19, you are the big family screw up.

I was fast approaching my 16th birthday and my mom could not stop nagging about me getting a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. We're liberal like that. She doesn't care what I'll screw as long as it'll put a ring on my finger.

I had become the family pariah when I turned 13 and stupidly told my cousins that I never had a boyfriend. Everyone in my family had found their 'twu luv' when they were in diapers, so I was naturally the odd one out.

I really just wished my family would be normal. That I'd have a dad that would start cleaning his shotgun when some unfortunate soul would come and pick me up for a date. Which I still haven't had to this day, by the way.

I didn't really get what the problem was. I was pretty damn good looking if I said so myself. It wasn't like I was going to win any beauty contests, but I was still above average at our High School level. You'd think some horny teenager would have taken notice of me, but no.

So there it was, the newest bane of my existance. A wedding invitation. My cousin Ariel was about to get married at the ripe age of 18. Like, she literally turns 18 the day before the wedding. Her parents were the old fashioned way and wanted her to be of age. My parents have already petitioned for my underaged marriage license for the odd chance I'd manage to find someone.

It had to be the most generic wedding invitation ever. Boring cream coloured cardboard with fancy, cursive and gold letters. There was even the generic pink lace dangling from the inside of the card. Mom had cruelly left it propped up and open so I could clearly see those damn words.

Plus one.

Ariel was mocking me. That's the only reason she'd even invite my family to her wedding. She was like my third cousin twice removed or something like that. The last time we spoke was at our other cousin's wedding. Oh, you still haven't found a man? This is my Justin. Damn I hated her. And her Justin.

This was mom's way of kicking me on my ass, trying to force me into the dating scene again. Really, at this point the only people able to save my reputation in the eyes of my family was if I snagged a Cullen to be my date. That would not end up prettily.

The Cullens had been my slight obsession ever since they moved to town six months ago. They all behaved so weirdly and it was downright unnatural to be that attractive. Even Beyonce was second to them and she was the fricking Beyonce.

It had taken me about two weeks to puzzle out that they were, for the lack of a better term, vampires. And let me tell you, it was such a disappointment to learn that our world's version of vampires were beautiful people who drank blood and sparkled in the sun. Yeah, I may have peeked once when the three boys ran off into the woods when the sun suddenly appeared behind a gray cloud.

I had three notebooks filled with observations and theories about the Cullens. For... research. No, but really, you can never know when it comes in handy to know about a vampire or two.

But back to the problem at hand. I really didn't want to go to that stupid wedding. I could almost hear the not-so quiet whispers. Look at Ella, oh that poor girl. 16 and still single. She'll never get married. I feel so bad for her parents.

I really hated how fucked up my relatives were. It was weird how high success rate these quick marriages had. Only three people from the family I knew of had ever gotten divorced... as far as the family tree goes. That's generations of weirdly lucky people.

Of course, I had no idea what went behind the closed doors. Maybe it was simply the fear of taking the role of the black sheep away from me that kept them married despite hating each other. Or since vampires were apparently real, maybe we were witches or some other supernatural things. You can never know.

Fifty minutes until school starts. Fuck all, I don't want to get out of the bed. When I do, I'll have to face mom's judgemental look. She doesn't like to have such a failure as a daughter. Other parents would be over the moon to have a daughter who was in no danger of being swept away in a teenaged romance that ended in unwanted pregnancy or an STD. Not mine, though.

Mom was actually starting to pick and choose what I was allowed to wear. I've noticed that recently my favourite farted-out sweatpants have started to disappear and in their place are mini skirts, short shorts and skinny jeans. My 'at home' shirts had mysteriously ended up in a charity and sexier shirts had taken over my closet. It was such a breach of personal space. As if I had ever even considered wearing my comfy clothes outside of our house!

"Get up! I have to be at work in half an hour and you cannot go to school looking like that!" Mom yelled from her en suite bathroom.

I groaned and contemplated to just ignore her. That would end up well. Mom ruled our household with an iron fist. She was the oldest of her five siblings and man did it show. Nobody messed with my mom. That was the one thing I admired about her. She was the boss.

Reluctantly, I got up from the bed and sprinted to the en suite bathroom. We all had our own private bathrooms. It was kind of weird that a family of four had three and a half bathrooms. Most households of that size had two at the most.

My older brother had taken off ages ago. To meet up with his fiance. Yeah, he too was getting married. Next summer when his fiance turned 18. It was a small wonder that mom had agreed to wait that long. Having a 19 year old son who was not married must've been horrible.

He was supposed to be my ride to school, but as usual, he bailed. I would have to go with dad. Mom would flip out if I walked to school when it pretty much rained 24/7 around here. Apparently I looked like some swamp monster when I was caught in a rain. She could not live with that embarrasment.

I looked myself in the mirror as I lazily brushed my teeth. My eyes were nearly colourless. There was just the tiniest hint of grey-ish blue in them. They were actually pretty cool, but I had to use a shit-ton of mascara because my eyelashes were pale as fuck. Clumps were my worst enemy and I spent painfully much on fake eyelashes yearly.

My nose was slightly crooked. My brother had broken my nose when I was five and I didn't want to get a surgery to fix it, even though my parents mentioned it at least once a week. My entire face was covered with light orange freckles. At least they brought some colour to my 'death crawled over' shade of white that my skin was.

No cheekbones to speak of and relatively normal pair of lips. They weren't sexily full or weirdly thin. They were just lips. Very chapped lips at the moment. It was about time to bust out the coconut oil.

If there was anything good about having marriage obsessed family, it was that outer appearance had always been a top priority to my parents. My skin care routine cost more than I liked to think about and it took me about an hour each night, but damn did it work. There was never a spot in sight.

I placed gel eyemasks over my eyebags and attacked my hair. My beautiful copper hair, straight out of a bottle. My natural colouring resembled the colour of a dirt road. It was annoyingly long, reaching my butt, and a real pain to try and keep silky smooth. I wanted to cut it off, but my mom would kill me. Beautiful, long hair attracts people, Ella. Yeah, but it was so difficult to maintain.

I pinned it up into a stylish, messy half-updo that looked careless enough so people wouldn't think I was making too much effort, but it suited my facial features and more importantly, it kept the hair from sticking to my face.

A quick round of make up later I was back at my room, trying to tackle the mountain of clothes. Mom put a lot more effort in me than in my brother, mostly because he didn't need as much help.

Most of my clothes were custom made. I was weirdly shaped. I was short, 4 ft 11, I had stubby little legs, teeny tiny waist and huge boobs. Nothing straight out of a store fit me right, so it all had to either be radically altered or completely customized from the scratch.

Now, my boobs were all au naturel and a genetic lottery, but my wee little waist had been a torture to achieve. I was on a strict diet and had to hit the gym five times a week. I was more or less used to it, but it was really stupid to tell my friends that 'Sorry, I can't hang out after school. I have to work out. Again'. I'm pretty sure the majority of my friends thought I had a body dysmorphia of some sort. The handful who I considered my closest friends were privy to my fucked up home life, so they at least knew better.

I know people would think that why the fuck am I adhering to these fucked up rules and expectations. Why not simply get the hell out, call the social services or something? Well, for starters, I loved my family. Hated their weird traditions, but I loved them. I wasn't ready or willing to throw them out of my life. Then there was of course the fact that I've been born and bred into this family. To me, all of this was normal on some deep fundamental level. I bitched and moaned about it and wanted it all to stop, but I still went with it because that's what I've been taught my entire life.

The third, and possibly the most important one... How the fuck would I live on my own? I'm almost 16 years old. I don't have a job. There's never time for a job. My parents provide for me. They pay my insurance, my food, my clothes, my hobbies, everything. I wasn't raised to go out there and live the rebel life. I wouldn't survive a week.

"Are you going to wear that?"

Ah, the sweet condescending sound of my mother's voice. I held out a black dress with purple polka dots. It fit snugly around my upper body and then flared at the hem that reached to my knees.

"What's wrong with it?" I said, rolling my eyes. Of course something was amiss. God forbid I be allowed to wear whatever I pleased.

"Oh nothing... Just here, put this over it and wear that necklace. You should go with the fall boots, the purple ones."

I looked at the black bolero she had chosen. It was knitted wool and the buttons were these cute little pink pearl hearts. I shrugged, putting it one without making a hassle. I put on the purple mocha ankle boots with two inch heels. Any higher than that and I'd be falling all over the place.

"Can we go now?" I asked impatiently, feeling insecure at how she was checking me out.

"Of course, honey. You look beautiful."

I smiled, unable to stop the silly little girl inside of me from shining with pride at being complimented.

That cursed wedding invitation disappeared from my mind.

000

I watched, bored out of my mind, as the Cullen's sat around their table doing absolutely nothing. I mean, would it kill them to at least pretend to be human? I didn't get why they even bothered to come to lunch when they never touched any of the food they bought. That was way more suspicious than ditching lunch. All the cool kids did it.

It was a small mystery as to how nobody else had seemed to notice that the resident hotties were not human. It was so painfully obvious if you just looked.

"You look beautiful today, Ella." Angela said, sitting down next to me with her tray.

I groaned when I saw the cheesy goodness that was on her plate. I hated nacho day. Cheese was off limits to me. So were those delicious tortilla chips. It had been years since I last ate that divine thing.

"Why do you torture me like that, Ang?" I whined, placing my forehead onto her shoulder. Her floral perfume helped me clear my head from the mouth watering aroma. Why couldn't salad taste that good?

"Sorry, babe. I'm just evil that way."

Angela had been my best friend since we were toddlers. Our moms had been besties back in their youth and the tradition lived on. Ang knew all about my fucked up life and had learned to accept it as the necessary evil. Just like me.

Angela was also the only other person in the school who knew the Cullens weren't human. She liked to call them fairies. She was a fan of some book series where fairies ate raw flesh and enjoyed the taste of blood.

I tried to get into it since it was Angela's favourite, but we had very different tastes. I liked to read books that didn't require any deeper soul searching. Trashy romance novels and murder books. Those were my thing. Angela liked detailed worlds with their own rules and she was way more into fantasy than I'd ever be. She also liked the classics, which only manage to put me into sleep. Then again, Angela was the brains in our relationship.

"So, about that wedding situation..." Angela started carefully, making the nachos way less appetizing immediately. I suddenly didn't feel hungry at all.

"Great! Now my good mood is ruined."

Angela placed a consoling arm around my shoulders and gently ran her fingers through my hair. I didn't want to think about that stupid wedding and my stupid cousin and her stupid Justin. I loved Angela, but she really knew how to bring on the doom and gloom.

"How bad is it going to be?" She asked.

I rolled my eyes, imagining the fiasco that was just waiting to happen. How could I best describe my upcoming encounter with my relatives? Straight out of hell didn't do it justice. I hated family gatherings even when there was not a wedding involved. This would just suck. Big time.

"Let's see... Granny May is going to slap me silly for being unable to get a boyfriend. Ariel is going to be downright insulting and I can't say anything because it's her big day. Mom will make my life miserable as soon as we get back home. Aunties and Uncles will give me those pitying looks and no children are allowed to talk to me. They're afraid my bad luck is infectious. And that's just the best case scenario."

Angela's pretty little nose wrinkled in disgust. Her heart was bigger than most people's but even she had trouble seeing something good in my family. And she had hung around since forever. Imagine what any of my potential future boyfriends would think. It was really weird that the new dating partners and fiances didn't periodically run for their lives when they were first introduced to our family. You'd think that would be normal teen behaviour.

"Have you thought about bringing a fake boyfriend as your plus one?"

Now there was an idea. One that I had frequently thought about and disregarded as stupid and redundant. Sure, a weekend with my family could still work, but what happens when the next family reunion rolls around and my fake boyfriend is nowhere in sight? Yeah, I'll get busted for lying, that's what happens. I'd be even more of a laughing stock than I am now.

I told Angela as much. She hummed in that all-knowing way she did ever so often. Sometimes it was a burden when your bestie is the resident smartypants.

We changed the subject to natural remedies that were rumoured to help with pimples. I've noticed that puberty was bringing out the big guns with Angela and I was pretty sure she would not survive High School without acne. There was already an impressive collection of make-up covered bumps around her forehead and chin.

I suggested a couple of things that would not cost a fortune to try out. Most of the stuff you could just pick up at the closest grocery store. I didn't know how well they would work, since while I dabbled immensly in natural remedies, I also slathered my skin daily by expensive chemicals. I wasn't sure what was it that kept my skin pimple-free, but trying a few couldn't hurt her.

Angela wasn't really into the subject of beauty products, the one thing I had a vast vault of information on, but she humored me often enough. Our relationship was about finding the balance between the things she liked and the things I liked. It had worked out well so far. We both got that much smarter by association. Angela could give Lauren and Jessica a run for their money when it came to beauty tips and tricks and I could fool the mathletes that I knew anything about math.

"Shoot, I have to go to the library. I promised I'd help Eric with his History project." Angela gasped out, looking at the big clock hanging from the cafeteria wall.

"Isn't that like due tomorrow? Even I'm not that bad."

Eric was the bane of Angela's academic existance. I never have figured out how the awkward boy always managed to rope Angela into helping him. It wasn't like they were good friends and I knew for a fact that Angela did not have a crush on Eric. It was a skill. A frightening skill that I really wished I had.

You'd think I'd have dibs on Angela's brilliance when it came to homework and school projects, but oh no. She believed I was smart enough to figure things out on my own and refused to 'coddle' me by helping me. Hence the reason why I was rocking a solid C in most of my classes.

I wasn't raised to be smart. Mom said intelligence scared potential love interests and that was one of those stupid things that had stuck to me like glue. I tried desperately to get smarter, but my brains rejected the idea of studying in favour of flipping through fashion magazines or something like that. It was easier to blame my upbringing than to entertain the idea that maybe I just wasn't smart, period. Everyone wants to be a special snowflake and I was no exception.

"He's helpless. I'll see you after school?"

I shook my head.

"Sorry, can't. Mom's invoked a family meeting. I'll be lucky if I'll be able to get out of the house by next year. I think she's planning on selling me to some oil sheik or something."

Family meetings were sucky, with no exceptions. It was always either me or my brother that had done something upsetting, and chances are this one was about me... like the last five meetings. Brody hadn't been forced in front of the jury since he started dating Faye.

"Call me later. I'll keep my night open in case you need me." Angela said and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze as a goodbye. I waved my hand after her and went back to the green monstrosity that was my lunch.

000

There was something to be said about Marilyn Johnson and the fierceness she had when facing problems. I really enjoyed watching it all unfold when I was not the unassuming victim. That woman could probably rule the entire world. I couldn't imagine anyone stupid enough to go against her.

That said, she could also be incredibly stupid and vain. Things never ended up well for me when she was like that. You can't just stop Hurricane Marilyn when she's on a roll, no matter how idiotic she was being. That's the sort of a woman I have for a mother.

I looked at her. She looked larger than life as she paced the family room floor. I was sitting in the armchair of shame. My usual spot. Brody and my dad were lounging on the couch, looking like there was nothing wrong with the world. It wasn't hard to figure out who was getting roasted this time. Again. One of these days Brody would mess up... and I will be there, waiting... Revenge is a dish best served cold and I was keeping a very detailed score that needed to be evened out. Some day.

My mom threw me a look that kept my tongue in check. I wanted to be a typical moody teenager ready to throw a fit, but that cold fire burning in my mom's dark brown eyes told me it would be maybe the biggest mistake I would ever make. And that's saying a lot.

"Ella."

God that voice... Like she was sticking an ice pick into my heart. I shivered and curled around myself on the armchair. Guess who was feeling like a five year old...

"You need to find a date for the wedding." She said.

I opened my mouth, words ready to tumble from my lips. She raised her hand sharply and I swallowed those words right back down. You do not poke the bear.

"I have been telling to a few choice relatives that you have been seeing a wonderful young man for two months now. You will not make them question my words. Is that clear?"

Wait, what? The Great Marilyn Johnson has done what? What the fuck?! How was it possible that me, the stupidest of my family, had found faking a boyfriend a disaster in the making, but my mother, the smart, capable powerhouse, had not?

"You did what?" I gasped out, my eyes round and most likely very panicky. My mind was buzzing with noise. Where would I find a fake boyfriend on such a short notice? And if mom had told such a tall tale, he'd have to be the perfect man. There weren't any of those lying around Forks.

"It was Gloria." My dad spoke up while leafing through a magazine.

I slumped into myself. Well, that explained it. My mom might've seemed impossible, but she had nothing on Aunt Gloria. The third youngest of the Rayburn children and mom's very own Ariel. It suddenly made a whole of a lot sense for my mom to get so desperate. Aunt Gloria could drive even a saint to murder someone.

That still left the problem of finding a boyfriend in two weeks. The wedding celebration was held in Seattle and it was supposed to last four days. I know, who the fuck has a wedding that lasts that long? I mean, besides people of India who had like two weeks of wedding partying or something like that. (A/n: I know that's not accurate. Ella is being dramatic.)

I leafed through the school's boy population in my mind. Eric could be roped into playing the part of my boyfriend, but as nice of a guy as he was, he would not be what my mom had described. That boy had no table manners to speak of and as shallow as it was, nobody in my family would be impressed with Eric's oily skin and lanky body. Maybe in a few years when puberty was through with him, but not now.

There was of course Mike, but he was... kind of creepy. He followed Jessica around like a lost little puppy and whenever a hotter girl came around he abandoned her completely. It had been a riot to see Brody almost kicking Mike's ass for trying to make a move on Faye.

Tyler was also out of the question. Lauren would destroy me. I had enough problems in my life. I didn't need the wrath of the Queen Bee to top it all off. Girls were the cruelest creatures ever created and I wanted to avoid conflict with my gender. It was too bad, since Tyler was kind of perfect to play the part of a fake boyfriend.

There were couple of other guys I knew relatively well, but none of them seemed like a possibility. They had no reason to help me and I didn't know them well enough to trust them. Who knew what kind of creeps they would turn out to be.

Eventually my mind shifted to the rather obvious choice. One of the Cullens. The one family that my mom would welcome with open arms, even if she was aware of their blood-drinking habits. They were beautiful, they were polite and by God were they perfect. Anyone of them would shut up Gloria and that bitch Ariel. Even Granny May would find nothing bad to say about them.

"Okay... I might have an idea. I need to talk to Angela." I said and excused myself. I rushed up to my room, threw myself onto my bed and dialed Angela's number. I needed that big brain of hers if I wanted to pull this off and stay alive.

Author's final thoughts:

Okay, yikes! Here we go. It's my first attempt at a Twilight story. I'm not a fan of the books and that may come across rather strongly as the story progesses. I do find some of the characters fun to read so I wanted to play with them. I would like to apologize beforehand if I end up bashing the books a little too much. :)

I welcome all criticism with open arms. Well, at least I'll welcome it until my self-esteem has crumbled and I'm just a big sobbing puddle on the floor...

On a positive note, it's possible that nobody will ever read this piece of garbage so maybe nobody will comment on it in any way! Always look on the bright side of life...