How it Should Be

Laughter echoed off the walls of the corridor, taunting as it bounced from locker to locker. In its wake, the young girl slowly stretched out her hand, fingers trembling as they fumbled to pick up the books and papers that were scattered around her. Unshed tears magnified by large frames were blinked back in a refusal to let them fall freely. Hidden behind the curtain of long, scraggly brown hair, she gathered up her items and unfolded to a standing position. She didn't bother to brush off her clothes. It wouldn't have made much difference anyway.

Down the hall, unseen and unnoticed, a boy watched her movements. Swallowed by overly-large clothes, he peeked out from behind the long, shaggy hair that obscured his vision. He wanted to help, but he didn't. In his mind, he could see the way that the exchange ought to go.

Confident strides carried him towards her until he was close enough to finish piling the miscellaneous study items into her surprised arms.

"Don't worry about them," he assured her. "They only pick on you because they're jealous."

"Jealous? Of what?" she gasped, disbelievingly.

"Because of how pretty and smart you are. Because you're special in a way that they can never be. Because you are the most amazing human being to ever walk the face of the Earth." Charm and assurance oozed out of him, coating his words as she gazed at him in wonder.

"I'm Edward, by the way," he finished.

"I'm…"

"Bella. I know." He smiled at her wide-eyed expression. Offering her his arm, he gestured gallantly down the hall. "Can I walk you to your next class? Don't worry; I'll protect you from those idiots. They won't bother you anymore." As she placed her hand on his arm, he felt the touch deep inside his heart. They walked together, stepping forward into a beautiful future.

That was what should have happened. Instead, he stood there motionless as she grabbed her things, glancing around furtively before venturing off down the hallway.

Only when she was out of eyesight did he move, straightening up from the locker he had been leaning against. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he turned in the opposite direction, heading for his own class.

Coward.


The rest of the day was quiet, until after the last bell. The boy stepped out into the sunshine, grateful for the freedom that came with the end of class. A ruckus by the edge of the parking lot caught his eye, and he saw the same group again tormenting the pretty girl. This time, they had her bag, and were tossing it back and forth to each other, as the girl looked on helplessly, fruitlessly trying to regain possession. The boys laughed with each pass, enjoying her discomfort.

The boy wished he had the confidence to do something. He knew what he wanted to do.

Edward marched over, snatching the bag from the air as it arched towards the next tormentor.

"Don't you idiots have anything better to do?" he sneered.

"Hey, man, it was just a joke," one of them tried to laugh it off. Edward wasn't buying it.

"Leave her alone, or it will be the last thing you'll ever live to regret." His menacing growl must have conveyed how deadly serious he was, because the boys began backing away before turning around to flee like a pack of wild dogs with their tails tucked between their legs.

Turning to the girl who was still shaking like a leaf, he softened his face into a kind smile as he offered up her bag.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, exhaling at her tentative nod. "Can I walk you home?"

He could see the confusion in her eyes about how he could have known that she walked to school. She had no way of knowing how much he knew about her through careful observation. Edward held his breath until she answered with a shaky "okay." Smiling widely, He turned and started walking alongside her.

"I'm Edward."

"Bella," she replied, peeking up through her lashes.

A dull thud reverberated through the air, snapping him out of his daydream. The gang had grown tired of passing the girl's bag, finally letting it crash to the ground. As they headed off, the girl meekly reclaimed her bag before skulking away.

The boy sighed. Yet another opportunity lost.


The boy stared at his brother, the ringleader of the circus act currently performing. As usual, the girl was center stage as the main source of entertainment. He felt his eyes narrow and his jaw clench at the sight before him.

The girl was walking to class, head down, and backpack hiked up as though it could deflect the cruel words following her.

"Dude, it's no wonder her mom sent her packing. I sure as hell wouldn't want to see her ugly face every day if I could help it."

"Hey, Mike, who do you think is a bigger slut: Bella Swan or Lauren Mallory?"

"Lauren, but only because she can actually get a guy. Who do you think has the ugliest legs: Bella or Ms. Cope?"

"Bella, hands down. Her legs are hairy and scrawny. At least Cope's looks like they belong to a female; an ugly female, but a female nonetheless. Who do you think dresses worse: Bella or the janitor?"

"Bella. At least the janitor can color coordinate."

"Yeah, that's the benefit of wearing a jumpsuit! Maybe Bella should try it."

The jeers continued until they faded around the corner, but he knew that they weren't done. He didn't understand how they could be so cruel to such an amazing creature.

"Back off, you guys. Leave her alone." Shocked eyes looked up as jaws fell open.

"Edward? What's gotten into you?" His brother's face was perhaps the most surprised out of all of them. Edward stared him down murderously, uncaring for once about the differences in their sizes.

"What should have gotten into me a long time ago," he spat. "Leave Bella alone, or you'll live to regret it."

"And why should we?" Mike regained his composure, a cocky sneer regaining its place on his unflinching face.

"Because if you don't, I'll personally see to it that your life is a living hell," Edward assured him lowly, drawing close so that his words only reached the one he was speaking to. "I wonder how much everyone will look up to you after I spill all of your dirty little secrets. I'm sure they'd love to hear about what you keep under your bed. Or maybe they'd like to know where you really were after homecoming last year."

"You wouldn't." Mike's voice lacked the surety that it normally had, despite his best effort to maintain it.

"Try me." Edward's voice was so low and gravelly that it sent shudders down his brother's spine. Clenching his jaw, Mike jerked his head to the side, calling off his hounds, who backed away immediately. Smirking in victory, Edward watched them scurry off before returning his attention to the pretty girl.

"They won't be bothering you anymore," he assured her.

"Thanks…um."

"Edward," he supplied.

"Edward." Her gentle voice caressed his name, lovingly surrounding it in her soft tones and eliciting a genuine smile from the boy who had saved her.

A firm hand clasped the boy's shoulder, startling him out of his musings. Turning to look, he saw bright blue eyes torn between sadness and patience.

"Daydreaming again?"

The boy sighed. "Yeah." There was no need to elaborate further. His friend knew exactly who and what he was dreaming about.

"One of these days, you need to get your butt in gear and actually do those things you keep dreaming about."

"Yeah, I know."

"No, you don't know. If you did know, you'd be doing it. You've got to snap out of this fantasy world you've been living in and get back to reality. Stop thinking about what 'Edward' would do. Just be Anthony."

The boy flinched at the mention of his alter-ego. How could he possibly hope to intercede as 'Anthony?' No, it was definitely a job for 'Edward.' Of course, the only problem was that it never turned out to be a job for either one, because he never summoned enough courage to actually do anything.

"I know, Em, I know. One of these days, I promise."

"One of these days may not come soon enough," Emmett warned ominously.


The next time he saw the girl, she was sitting alone at a picnic table on the far side of the yard. Surrounded by his brother and the idiots who called themselves 'friends,' the boy watched her carefully from behind dark sunglasses.

He could sense the moment his companions began to take notice in the girl again. A ripple went through them as if they were a pack of animals who had just caught the scent of a wounded deer, turning them instantly feral.

"Hey look, it's the Swan girl," Tyler nudged Eric who sat next to him.

"There goes my appetite. Just the sight of her makes me want to throw up."

"Really? It's usually the smell for me," Mike retorted, joining in on the fun.

"Stop it." The boy's voice was so quiet, he wasn't even sure he had spoken aloud until he felt the eyes of everyone at the table suddenly turned towards him.

"What did you say?" Mike ground out menacingly.

"I said s-stop it," the boy stuttered, not as confidently as he had hoped.

"Oh yeah? And why is that?" his brother dared, glaring at him.

"I'll t-tell. I-I'll tell what you've been d-doing to her." He prayed his bluff wouldn't be called, while wishing that he had been able to think of something more original than tattling.

"You'll tell. And who would you be telling, shrimp? It'd be your word against all of ours."

"O-other people have seen the same thing. They know the truth too." His voice became surer at the hope of rallying witnesses in the quest to stop the tormentors. He should have known better.

"You think anyone would stand up with you? Against me?" Mike began laughing at the sheer absurdity of what was being suggested.

Angry and humiliated, the boy stood up to leave, only to be knocked back down by a quick jab to the stomach. Leaning close, Mike hissed in his ear. "Keep your head down and your mouth shut, and nothing will happen to you. You don't want to cross me. We are brothers after all," he added with a sickly sweet smile. Roughly clapping the slender back of his younger sibling, he stood and walked off in search of more amusing entertainment, his posse trailing behind him.

Motionless, he clutched his midsection, willing the pain to fade. A shadow alerted him to the presence of someone else moments before Emmett collapsed nest to him, shaking the bench with the force of his weight.

"You okay, Anthony?"

"Peachy," the boy gasped. "I finally did what you said, I finally tried to stand up for her, and look where it got me."

"Yeah, it got you to get Mike to leave her alone."

"What are you talking about?" the boy wheezed.

"Well, do you see him still making fun of her at the moment?"

The boy thought about it. True, his brother and his gang had left her alone for the moment, but how long could he expect that to last?

"Sure I stopped them this time. What happens when they start up again?"

"You stop them again," Emmett responded as if stating an obvious fact.

The boy pinched his brows together in disbelief. "What, so I can get punched in the stomach again?"

"That all depends on which is worse: the pain from the punch or watching her being tormented and doing nothing to help?"

Without thinking, he knew what the answer was, even before the boy could articulate it. Even now, the pain in his stomach was subsiding. The ache he had from standing helplessly on the sidelines, however, never fully went away. In that moment, he was decided. No longer would he stand by and watch. He'd take the punishment if it meant she'd be spared. She was worth it.


Several days passed before the boy's newfound conviction was put to the test. Mike and his gang had again commandeered her bag. This time, they had it open and they were rifling through its contents, tossing items on the ground after they looked at them.

"Aw, you have a copy of Jane Eyre with you. What, you think you're too good to read things written in this century, so you drag around this shit like a pretentious shit?"

"Check this out. She has a picture of her mom on her wedding day to step-daddy. Think she's homesick?"

"One can only wish. Maybe she'll get homesick enough that she'll go home so we don't have to see her anymore."

The boy squared his shoulders, planning out his attack.

"Hey! I told you to leave her alone." His voice startled the boys out of their task.

"Get out of here, Edward. This doesn't concern you," Mike warned.

"You being an asshole does concern me. It concerns me a lot. Now, give her back her bag and get lost."

Mike began to laugh outright, leading the others to follow suit. A red haze narrowed Edward's focus, and he was barely aware that he had raised his fist until just before it connected with his brother's jaw. Ignoring the sudden pain in his knuckles, he continued to glare menacingly at Mike, who had finally stopped laughing.

"Are you leaving, or do you need some more?" he growled.

Bewildered, they ran off, leaving Edward alone with the girl of his dreams.

"I'm sorry about them," he apologized. "Here, let me help you pick this up." He knelt down, scooping up her things and carefully placing them back in the bag. She watched in amazement as he picked up every last thing that had been dumped out.

"Thank you," she finally forced out, as he gently replaced her last book.

"Glad I could help," he replied, smiling into her soft brown eyes as he rose to stand.

Swallowing thickly, the boy braced himself. This was it.

The gang was still joyfully tearing into her bag as he slowly but determinedly walked up.

"G-give it back." Once again, the boys froze at his quiet, unexpected words. Once again, Mike turned around first.

"Is something wrong with your memory, or are you just acting stupid? I thought I made it clear that it's healthier for you to stay out of it."

"I-I said, g-give it back," the boy repeated, pushing back his shoulders.

Mike and the others began laughing. "Sure, just as soon as we're done here."

The boy's arms jerked forward as if independent in their purpose, snatching the bag. For a moment, there was shocked stillness. Then, Mike reached for the bag with one hand, landing a punch to the stomach with the other. The boy held on, striking back with his free hand. Each landed a few good hits along with many wild throws before the force of their jostling ripped the bag in half, sending them sprawling away from each other.

The boy looked in horror as the girl's remaining items were spewed forth, landing unceremoniously on the ground. Mike looked on in laughter, amused that his brother's attempt at chivalry had ended so disastrously. Dusting himself off, he left, the sounds of his laughter trailing behind him.

Ashamed, the boy attempted to gather all of the fallen items for the girl, frustrated that nothing ever went according to plan. In the midst of berating himself for not being smoother, quicker, stronger, he almost missed the soft voice that hung delicately in the air like the sound of Christmas bells.

"Thank you." It was the first time he had ever heard her speak to him directly, and the impact nearly caused him to drop her bag yet again.

"Y-you're welcome," he stuttered, finally handing over her possessions. Their fingers lightly brushed, sending shock waves through his body.

In his mind, he knew what should come next. He should tell her his name, start a conversation, get to know her as he walked her to class. What he did was the opposite.

Turning around quickly, he fled.


"You ran? Without saying a word, you just turned around and left her? Seriously?"

The boy groaned, cradling his head as they sat in the cafeteria. "Yes, Em, I already told you. I panicked and ran."

His friend remained quiet for sometime before the boy lifted his head to see what the matter was. Emmett's shoulders were shaking from repressed laughter. At the boy's glare, he attempted to regain control, but only achieved marginal success.

"Sorry, dude, but that was your chance. You had just saved her like some kind of knight in armor. That was the perfect time to start talking to her. And then you just ran? Come on, you have to admit it's pretty ridiculous."

"Yes, I know I'm ridiculous, you don't need to rub it in. Besides, what kind of knight gets his ass kicked right in front of his lady in distress?"

"How about one who is brave enough to take on a dragon bigger than himself," Emmett shot back without hesitation. "Give yourself some credit. Sure things didn't go the way you wanted them to, but at least you did something. That has to make you feel good."

The boy had to admit that the feeling of doing something far exceeded standing back and witnessing the injustice, even if he wished the outcome had been different. All he could do now was hope that next time, he could be more effective.

Maybe it was time to take Emmett up on his offer of self defense lessons.


An uneventful week passed, but the boy recognized it as merely the calm before the storm. He spent that time in preparation. He knew that it would take more than a few lessons to get him to where he could defeat his bulkier brother, but with a bit of effort and some luck, he may not fail as completely as in the past.

His first test came on a cold, grey morning, just before the bell rang to signal the start of another day. The previous night had frozen the rain, causing ice and snow to blanket the campus in what might have looked like a scene depicting a winter wonderland. It might have, were it not for the slush-balls that were being bandied about, always in the girl's general direction.

The boy watched as she flinched and shuffled her way through the parking lot, slush-balls whizzing past and occasionally striking her. Her glasses were fogged up, and she struggled to keep them clear while maintaining her grip on the books she was carrying. Her bag had still not been replaced, much to the boy's chagrin.

In a moment of what could be determined as brilliance or foolishness, he had an idea. Without thinking it out fully, he saw his hands reaching down to form a ball of moist snow. Patting and compacting it as much as possible, his arm arced back, springing forward and flinging the ball at Mike.

Deathly silence filled the air as the slush dripped down Mike's hair and into his face. Slowly, he turned around, facing his younger brother. A sadistic smile crept over his face as he turned his attention to a new target, shifting the focus of everyone else as well.

By the time the boy plopped down into his seat for his first class, his clothes were soaked through, clinging uncomfortably to his body. Yet even that discomfort was meaningless in the knowledge that he had spared the girl from enduring a similar state. She was drier because of him. The thought made him feel warm, despite the chill.

He should have known that diverting Mike's attention could not spare the girl for long. Lunch time brought a renewal of their activities.

The girl was sitting in her usual spot, tucked away in a corner where she was able to escape the attention of most of the other students. Most of them. The boy, of course, was aware of her presence. He was aware of the intermittent beams of sunlight that peeked through the windows, highlighting the back of her head like a medieval angel. He was aware of the way she picked through her food, gracefully cutting her meal into tiny bite-sized pieces. He was aware of the journal that she took out while eating, her pencil dancing swiftly along the pages, creating words or pictures, he did not know. He was aware of…her.

Unfortunately, Mike and his crew were also aware of the girl, though for different reasons. Today, it seemed that they had decided to not grant her desire to fade into the background undisturbed. Instead, they crowded around her, drawing the attention of the rest of the student populace. Their focus this time was on her tray, and the food that was on it. They loudly and riotously picked up, examined, discussed, and destroyed elements of her meal, piece by piece.

They had just finished grinding her banana into the table when the boy walked up. Once again, he found himself reacting first, not taking the time to play out the scene in his head beforehand.

"Knock it off, M-Mike."

Mike turned around with a sigh. "You know, I'm getting awfully tired of your pestering, little bro."

"Then maybe you should stop being such an idiot and leave her alone." The words spilled out, stunning his brother.

"What did you call me?"

"Y-You heard me." The boy squared his shoulders, refusing to back down. It would have been too late to retract his words anyway, so he may as well follow through to the end.

"You really shouldn't have said that," Mike sneered. Drawing back his right elbow, he let his fist spring forward towards the boy's mid section. Acting reflexively, the boy deflected the blow in a move he had recently learned. In an instant, the sparring lessons he'd had with Emmett jumped to the forefront of his mind, allowing his body to react to Mike's blows before his mind grasped what was happening.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of how out of character he was acting. It was difficult to grasp that he was actually in the middle of a fight, with his brother, in the center of the school cafeteria, while the girl he was defending looked on in amazement. Well, he assumed she was looking on in amazement. Being a little busy, he was unable to confirm his suspicions, as Mike's fists continued to flail.

The skirmish lasted for some time, as the boy had only been focused on learning defensive techniques. They both knew that it couldn't end until he either failed to protect himself or Mike gave up.

As it was, the fight was ended by a third party.

"Mike and Anthony Masen, stop this foolishness immediately!" The principal's loud voice boomed across the room, freezing the muscles of every student as it reverberated off the walls. The brothers stopped their actions, glaring at each other in the silence that suddenly replaced the cheers and shouts that had surrounded them a moment ago.

Wordlessly, they turned and obeyed the Principal's summons to follow him to his office. Once there, the flopped into the stiff, uncomfortable chairs on the other side of the desk, resolutely refusing to look at each other.

"Would one of you like to explain what I just witnessed in the cafeteria?" The quiet voice held a steely edge of authority as it demanded an answer. Mike spoke first.

"I have no idea what got into him, sir. I was talking with my friends, and then he came up and started swinging at me. I don't know why, he seemed to just go crazy, like he wanted to hit me for no reason at all."

The boy felt his fingernails dig into his palms as his fists clenched at the blatant lies spewing forth, but he kept his head down and his eyes lowered. Even now, when the situation so clearly called for him to speak up and defend himself, he found his throat unable to open and squeeze the necessary air past his larynx to produce sound.

"Is this true, Anthony?" the principal's voice asked. "Did you attack him for no reason?"

He tried to speak, tried to open his mouth and explain the truth about what had happened, but found that he couldn't. Resigning himself to the inevitable suspension that would likely be given to him soon, he was startled to hear a soft voice behind him.

"Excuse me? Principal Johnson, I think I may be able to tell you what happened." The boy's eyes flew open at the sound of her timid words as she peeked around the door jamb, brown hair flowing over her shoulders in disarray, as if she had run towards the office.

Apparently, he was not the only one surprised to see her, as Mike's eyes widened in anxiety and the principal's narrowed in speculation.

"Well, come on in then," the principal beckoned.

Stepping forward hesitantly, the girl's eyes flickered around the room resting on the two brothers and then dancing away to some inanimate object in the room.

"C-Can I speak to you alone please, s-sir?"

"Of course, Miss Swan. Boys, please wait outside in the hall."

Dismissed for the moment, the brothers rose to shuffle out of the office. The girl continued to refuse to make eye contact with either of them, despite the boy's earnest wish that she would.

As they waited in stony silence, the boy wondered what she was saying to the principal.

"Principal Johnson? Please don't blame Edward for what happened earlier. It wasn't his fault, he was just trying to get the other guys to leave me alone."

"As kind as it may be that he wanted to defend you, we have a strict policy against fighting on school grounds, Miss Swan."

"But he wasn't fighting!" Her strident tones momentarily knocked the principal off balance. Recovering, she continued. "What I mean is that he didn't lay a hand on Mike. He stopped Mike from hitting him, but he didn't fight back."

"Well, that does change things a bit. And how do you know what happened?"

"It all happened right in front of me. Mike and his friends had come over and were giving me a hard time, as usual, and Edward stepped in to tell them to stop."

"What do you mean 'as usual?' Has this happened before?"

"Well, not the part where Edward defended me, but Mike bothering me? Yes, it happens often."

At this point, the girl would divulge all of the awful, hateful things that Mike and his crew had participated in. The principal would listen quietly, growing angrier with each incident, until finally, he would call the boys back into his office. He would thank Edward for stepping in to help, and then dismiss him and Bella so that he could royally and effectively rip Mike a new one.

As the boy and the girl left the principal's office, they would begin to talk, growing bolder until the boy finally reached out to hold the girl's hand. She would squeeze back shyly, looking up demurely through dark lashes. Stopping in the middle of the hall, the boy would reach his other hand out to caress her cheek, and then—

"Anthony? Mike? Come in, now, please." The principal's voice carried the weight of his authority as it compelled the boys to stand quickly to their feet.

Entering the office, he could see Bella, seated off to the side with her head down as she seemed to attempt to fade into the background. From the corner of his eye, he could see Mike furtively glance at her, likely wondering how much she had told the principal.

"I've been hearing some interesting things from Miss Swan here," Principal Johnson began. "Would either of you care to expand on what you've already said?"

"Sir, I don't know what she said, but I was just talking with my friends when Anthony came up and started hitting me. I wasn't doing anything to him." Mike opened his eyes wide, projecting the angelic look of innocence that had served him so well in the past.

"Yes, she told me that your brother was not your target when this began. However, she also revealed some activities that you and your friends have been engaging in that, frankly Mister Masen, are quite disturbing. Activities that involved Miss Swan, as well as several of her personal possessions. Would you care to amend your story?"

The boy rejoiced. She had told the truth, and it appeared that Principal Johnson believed her!

"I never did anything to her, and I can give you a dozen names of students who will agree with me," Mike answered confidently, sending his brother's hopes dashing to the ground.

The principal sighed. "Well, this looks like a case of 'he said, she said' and I'm afraid there's not much I can do about it. AsI said earlier, Miss Swan, there is not much I can do at this point except give Mister Masen a warning. If something like that happens again, you need to tell me or another teacher right away, or our hands are pretty well tied. If you had someone who could affirm your claim, another witness if you will—"

"She's telling the truth." The boy's voice rang out, startling everyone in the room, including himself. "She's telling the truth," he repeated. "Mike and his friends have been going after her for awhile now."

"And what has been your part in all of this?" The principal leveled him with a firm gaze.

"N-nothing," he stammered.

"That's not quite true, is it?" he asked, sending his pulse into overdrive. "As Miss Swam tells it, you've been stepping in to try and diffuse the situation."

The boy's thoughts grabbed one point, circling around it, tasting it and testing it. She had spoken about him. She had seen his fumbling attempts at helping, and had told the principal about it. She had noticed him!

The principal was still speaking, and the boy hastened to catch up.

"—commend you for trying to help, but in the future it would be more prudent to gain the help of an authority figure rather than coming to blows. I will allow you to squeak by with a warning this time, but only because you were blocking and not striking. I do not want to see or hear of you being in the middle of a fight again, is that understood?"

"Understood, sir," he somehow managed to get out.

"Good. You and Miss Swan are dismissed. Mike, have a seat. We need to have a little chat."

With a timid smile, he held the door open for Bella to step around him. As she passed, he caught a whiff of her softly scented perfume. It wrapped around him, cementing the memory into his olfactory senses. Deep down, he knew that what had just happened in the office had changed everything. Now he just had to figure out how things stood now.

Falling in step with her, they silently walked down the corridor towards the classrooms. He was wracking his brain to come up with a way to start the conversation when she beat him to it.

"Thank you for backing me up in there," she said quietly, her long hair shifting to hide her face.

"You're welcome. Thank you for telling him about my part in it."

"Oh, he already knew," she rushed out. "I-I mean, he knew about you not hitting back. He didn't know about the other times, I mean, but, I mean that he, uh, saw you during the fight, and he, um, didn't need me to tell him about that part. Mike was already in trouble before I got there."

"I'm glad you were there," he said quietly. At her startled look, he continued. "To tell him about what Mike has been doing to you. You don't deserve that, and I'm glad he's going to get some grief about it. It's about time he answered for his actions."

"I didn't do it for me."

The boy stopped, turning to face her as she continued. "I wanted to make sure you weren't in trouble, so I went to tell Principal Johnson about what happened in the cafeteria. Somehow, it came out that this wasn't the first time you came to help me. I told him about you trying to get my bag back for me, and how you got them to stop throwing slush balls at me."

"You knew about that?"

"Of course," she flushed, redness spilling over her cheeks and tinting her ears. "When they stopped throwing at me, I saw that they were all aimed at you. I put two and two together."

The boy was stunned. He thought that he'd escaped all notice that day. That his deed had been observed made him feel taller, prouder. Straightening his shoulders, his steps became surer as he walked beside her, though his head was still tucked in embarrassment. "It was the least I could do."

"No, the least you could have done was to walk by without doing anything, like everyone else in school. But you're different. You stopped them."

Wave after wave washed over him, each filled with a memory of standing by, witnessing her torment while he did nothing. Shame settled heavily like an oppressive blanket as he saw clearly how far he was from the hero she thought him to be.

So lost was he in thought, that he wasn't prepared for her to reach out to squeeze his hand and stretch on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you," she demurred.

The boy closed his fingers, keeping her hand trapped. Offering a gentle squeeze, he smiled. "You're welcome." Sucking in a deep breath, he was about to destroy her image of him with a confession of his inertness when she began to speak again.

"So, I know this might sound a little silly, but I don't think we've officially met yet. I'm Bella Swan."

Smiling, he shook her hand. "Anthony Masen."

"Anthony. It's nice to finally meet you."

AN I hope you enjoyed my story. Leave me a line to tell me what you think!