A/N: I know that I should be working on my other story but I've had this nagging me for a while now. This will come in two or three parts- hopefully I will not take too long to write the rest. This will change to M in the next chapter.
Whether or not I continue this depends on the response really. So let me know whether or not you like it.
Part 1: Monday to Thursday
xXx
On Monday, I decided her skin was Egyptian silk, her hair liquid gold. I doubt she noticed me, all thin limbs and gangly appearance, as my shirt draped sympathetically over my bony shoulders. But I noticed her.
I noticed the way the morning sun shone at just the angle that illuminated her hair into an amber halo, and lit the blue and green in her eyes to a turquoise masterpiece. I noticed the silent rhythm her fingers tapped against the school desk with her perfectly manicured nails. The feathery texture of her eyelashes as they fluttered and graced her cheekbones when she blinked. The arch of her eyebrows. The plump bow of her lips. The careful dip of her blouse. Her, her, her.
My eyes squeezed shut as I tried to distract myself. The last thing I wanted was to be caught staring at Rosalie Hale. I could just imagine the ammunition that would give her friends. Or her boyfriend. I cringed in my seat. Last time I saw him he had thrown a precisely aimed water balloon laced with flour and glitter at me during lunch break while I was holding my lunch tray. The reminiscence of dropping my tray of food onto my shoes as water dripped from my now soaked shirt and hair was still vivid. On cue, my cheeks burned a fiery red and my eyes stung at the memory of that afternoon. Royce King was awful and I had no idea what I had done to him to deserve the things he had done to me. How someone as cruel as him could catch the attention of someone like Rosalie Hale confused me further.
Rosalie Hale. I thought dreamily, my eyes involuntarily finding their way back to the blonde in question. God she's beautiful.
"Miss Swan?" I jerked upwards, the hand that was supporting my chin slapping against the table loudly as I turned my attention to the front of the class room.
"Mr. McConnell?" I said shakily, now aware that I had just possibly been caught staring at the blonde bombshell at the corner of the room. Everyone had now turned and I could feel their eyes examining me. I could feel her staring me. I self-consciously shrunk further into my chair. He cleared his throat pointedly, his eyes narrowed in my direction.
"Stimulated emission compared to the natural emission of electrons falling to ground state, Miss Swan. Can you give me a difference?" he asked. I swallowed hard.
"T-two identical photons are produced in st-stimulated emission than in natural emission."
"What direction are they going in?"
"The same direction?" I replied, hesitantly. He opened his mouth to reply, the bell interrupting him. He didn't bother to continue as I hurriedly slammed my textbook shut and shoved everything into my bag. I clutched my binder to my chest as a tried to scuttle out of the classroom as inconspicuously as possible.
My foot caught the edge of the doorframe as I exited the classroom, unsurprisingly. I stumbled, the loose pages scattering across the ground. Thankfully, I did not fall on my face as anticipated. I blushed at the chuckles behind me as my classmates stepped over me to exit the door.
Howling laughter caught my attention down the hall as I reached forward to grasp the last piece of paper on the ground, just in time for a basketball to slam purposefully down onto my hand. I yelped, loudly, probably like a wounded dog, and looked up in time to see Royce King grinning at me over his shoulder as he held a basketball aloft and walked down the hall.
"Fuck." I whimpered, cradling my reddening hand against my chest as my eyes watered. As I wallowed in self-pity, a pair of perfectly white pumps appeared in front of me. I froze, my eyes following shapely legs and hips over a taught stomach and full breasts to meet the eyes of Rosalie Hale. My doe brown eyes met her intense blue for a moment. They were incredibly piercing, but seemed to soften at my look of bewilderment, almost apologetically.
Without saying anything and maintaining eye contact, she picked up the piece of paper that was on the ground, carefully handing it back to me before strutting away.
xXx
On Tuesday, I decided if there was a god, he really did hate me. Coach Clap's whistle blew loudly in the gym as my teammates milled around me. I whimpered slightly. Of all games to be pitted against Royce and his entourage dodgeball was the one I dreaded the most. I could already see him singling me out, squeezing the dodgeball in his hand until half of it was concave, in and out like a beating heart. He smirked at me.
It's not like I was even built for sport. I had maintained an even muscle tone and was quite toned among my peers-true- but my hand eye coordination was pathetic and I seemed to be cursed with a chronic clumsiness. It didn't help that I chose not to wear my contacts- opting for my glasses. I severely doubted my ability to dodge any ball that Royce could have thrown at me over the fifteen meter gap that separated us. I tried to make myself as small as possible in the corner of the field.
Within five minutes, I was one of two people left on my team, while nearly three quarters of the opposing team was still in. Rosalie was sitting on the bleachers, watching the game with a look of boredom on her face. Our eyes met as Mike, the last person on my team was hit by a ball. A hand lifted, as if in warning, before a dodgeball cracked my glasses clean off my face.
"King! What did I tell you about aiming for the face?!" Clapp yelled, as I scrambled to find my glasses amidst the pain of my reddening cheek, and the tang of blood on my tongue.
"Ah, sorry coach! Must've missed!" he said with an unconvincingly apologetic tone to his voice. The bell rang for lunch, and laughing teenagers made their way into the locker room to get changed, leaving me to find my glasses.
Can no-one see that I'm blind? Actually, I doubted anyone ever noticed me at all.
Five minutes later and the gym was completely silent as the last of them seemed to leave the gym. I sighed heavily. Debating whether I should risk trying to get to the locker room for my stuff even though I could only just make out my hand if I squinted the right way. A started when a warm hand grasped my shoulder.
"Hey… here." The blur in front of me pressed the cold shape of what I presumed were my glasses against my hand. I slid them on slowly, still trying to decipher who exactly had bothered to help me. It took a few seconds to focus, and when I did, I nearly fell backwards in surprise.
Rosalie Hale, in all of her sports-chic glory was standing over me. Her perfectly made-up ponytail was artfully executed to leave wisps of hair framing her flawless cheekbones and her outfit was something I'd imagine straight out of a sports illustrated magazine. Without a word, she turned, strutting away. I sat on the ground as she sashayed away. I think that's the first time she's ever talked to me. I marvelled, my fingers wicking up the excess blood that had pooled along my lower lip. Hmm.
As I made my way to physics, I caught sight of a very angry looking Royce King marching down the hall alone. Looking towards the direction he had come, I could see Rosalie Hale amidst the milling students, a bored expression on her face. However my curiosity didn't last long as Jessica, the school's resident gossip, stopped to talk to one of her friends.
"Did you just see what happened between Rosalie and Royce? Oh my god, Rosalie totally snapped at him over something that happened during PE." A mumbled reply.
"Oh, yeah, she called him stupid and everything. I think they've broken up or something. She called him retarded. What a bitch. Royce is such a hunk."
I watched as they failed to notice the blonde bombshell in question as she strutted towards the classroom like a supermodel, stopping right behind them in time to hear them call her a bitch. She stiffened, her famous icy demeanour becoming arctic.
"Get out of my way, Stanley, before I emotionally crush you." The hissed venomously, and her eyes turned to slits. Jessica seemed to jump right out of her skin, skittering away like a frightened puppy with its tail between its legs. I wasn't even who Rosalie was looking at, and I felt intimidated from where I was standing.
Class was uneventful, my mind wandering down its usual path when I sat in the same classroom as some sort of demigoddess who wouldn't spare me a second glance. That is, until ten minutes before the bell rang, when the teacher announced our next assignment.
"Okay guys. As you know at this time of year group assignments are handed out. This counts for a large portion of your grade, and since I'm nice, you can pick your own partners. Two in a group unless we have an odd number. The assignment outline is on my desk. Pick your partner, and write down your names on here," he lifted a sheet of paper, "see you guys on Wednesday". I immediately deflated. No one I knew was in this class and I had enough trouble finding a table to sit on at lunch. I watched as people paired up… and realised that no one had approached Rosalie.
This didn't surprise me. Ever since I could remember, from when we were children playing in the sand pit in grade school, Rosalie was never one who was chosen, she was always the one who chose you. If there were twenty kids waiting to try the swing set and she had finished her turn, she chose who went next. It didn't matter if they were waiting the longest or shortest time- if you were chosen, you were chosen. And that attitude that people fostered towards her had always remained, becoming more acute as the baby chubbiness fell from her cheeks and she grew into a young woman.
And what a woman.
I resolved to myself that I'd just have to talk to Mr. McConnell about going this assignment alone or something- since nobody had wanted to be my partner. So when the class ended, I slowly packed my stuff as children filtered out of the classroom.
"Excuse me, sir. I don't have a partner." Mr. McConnell cast an odd look in my direction.
"Really, Bella? I could've sworn there were 14 pairs for the 28 kids in this class." He shuffled through his folder, looking over the sheet. "Ah, yes, see. Right at the bottom." I peered down at the proffered piece of paper, and sure enough, in elegantly curved writing on the slot was written:
Rosalie Hale + Isabella Swan.
I nearly had a heart attack.
xXx
On Wednesday, I decided after much careful deliberation that the reason someone like Royce King was able to successfully hold a conversation and relationship with Rosalie Hale was because he sucked it up and grew a pair.
It's not the fact he has money, is attractive, and is almost unreasonably self-confident.
So as I sat there during study period in the library, probably doing the worst possible job at pretending to actually read anything, I decided I was going to talk to Rosalie Hale. The blonde who was seated two tables away reading her chemistry textbook with her signature dispassionate look on her face.
Okay, I'm gonna do this.
I stood, soon finding myself right in front of her table.
Oh god, what are you doing? Run before she sees you.
"Bella? Can I help you with anything?"
Shit she saw me.
"H-Hi." I said, cursing my nervous stutter and anxious demeanour that rendered me incapable of saying anything else. Her expression seemed to soften at the face of my obvious distress, however, and the corner of her lip quirked upwards.
"Hey Bella, what's up?"
God she's so cool. Wow you need to speak.
"I was just w-wondering how you wanted to do the physics assignment." I mentally congratulated myself on only stuttering once. The pen in her hand wilted to the side slightly as she seemed to ponder for a moment. She seemed to brighten slightly as she sat up straighter.
"Hmm, hey… why don't you come over? We could work on it at my house." She suggested. I gaped at her.
"H-huh?" I stuttered. She cocked her head, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching in amusement.
"My house, Bella. Why don't we work on it there?"
"S-sure."
"Do you know where I live?" I shook my head.
"How about I text it to you?" I nodded, and she reached out her hand expectantly for my phone.
Mindlessly, I handed over my phone, and as she taped away her details my mind was racing a hundred miles an hour.
I have Rosalie Hale's number. Is this even real life? Okay, play this cool.
"Here you go." She said, handing me back my phone. I peered at the screen. Her address along with her phone number and email were in the contact boxes, and she had taken a picture of herself for the caller id on my phone. Holy shit.
"C-cool." I nodded, trying to play it off as casual. My hands tucked themselves into my hoody pockets involuntarily. I could feel the moisture on my palms and my heart was racing. She nodded along with me.
"Okay." She said.
"Okay."
The roar of my truck was amplified in the silence leading up to her house. She lived just outside of town, a good half hour drive from school or any of her friends in a modern two story home that had floor to ceiling glass windows instead of walls on the outside. Her fire truck red convertible was parked out front next to a flowerbed laced with roses.
I took my time climbing out of my truck before ambling over to the front door and ringing the doorbell timidly. It didn't take long for a middle aged woman with a bright smile on her face to open the door. Almost immediately, her smile dimmed.
I didn't blame her. She was perfectly made up in a beige turtleneck and mum-pants with spotless tennis shoes while I was wearing torn up jeans and a band t-shirt with a leather jacket over my shoulders and a split lip. She didn't seem impressed. I didn't have time to dwell on it, however, as Rosalie appeared behind who I assumed to be her mother.
"Hi Bella!" she said, pushing past her mother to grab my cold hand in order to drag me into the warmth of her home. She tipped her head in the direction of her mother.
"This is my mum, mum, this is Bella." I dipped my head in greeting.
"H-hi." I said, and she smiled warmly at me.
"Nice to meet you, Bella. I'll just leave you girls to it."
Rosalie grabbed my hand, dragging me up a flight of stairs before I could even think about replying.
Half an hour later, we were quietly scribbling away in our note books. Surprisingly, conversation was a bit easier without the pressure of other kids watching who I was talking to or what I was saying. I still stuttered- because Rosalie's presence mixed up more than my words- but I didn't stumble and search for conversation topics amidst awkward silences. We had fallen into an easy silence as we finished the introductory parts of our assignment together when I noticed Rosalie was staring at the knuckles of my hand. They were scraped, purplish and bruised from when Royce had slammed his basketball against my hand in the hall on Monday. I curled my hand self-consciously as she stared. Rosalie cleared her throat.
"He really did a number on your hand, didn't he?" she asked, and I shrugged. What was I supposed to say? He was her boyfriend for crying out loud. Besides, Royce had done worse to me than just some bruised knuckles and a busted lip. She smiled sadly, her delicate hand smoothing over the bruises on my knuckles. My heart fluttered hard against my chest.
"Don't let him push you around, okay?"
And she kept her hand over mine until it was time to go home.
xXx
On Thursday, I decided that maybe it was about time that I took her advice and start standing up for myself a little bit. So when lunch rolled around I was psyching myself up for any confrontation that might occur. Usually during lunchtime Royce took advantage of the large crowd in order to embarrass me, and on schedule, his looming presence made itself known behind me in the lunch line. Okay, Bella, be assertive. Calm and assertive.
"Oh, hey, Bella, what are you doing today?" he said, holding my tray down against the counter so I couldn't slide it away. His friends snickered behind him.
"L-l-leave me alone, Royce." I said lamely, trying to unjam my tray. Wow, that sounded really assertive. He's gonna eat you alive. Royce's lips curved upwards in amusement.
"I w-w-w-was j-just asking w-what you were d-d-doing today." He mocked, and released my tray just as I gave a second tug, making me jerk it back and the items wobble haphazardly. He rolled his eyes. "You're so clumsy Bella." I didn't reply.
"Hey, how's your face by the way? It's like you hit a wall." He tried again as they stepped forward in the line. I did my best to ignore him. From the corner of my eye I could see as Rosalie entered the cafeteria with her following of blonde minions. Almost immediately, we caught each other's eye. Our gazes held for a moment before the blonde's focus drifted behind me and her eyes narrowed.
"Well, at least that lip can't make your face anymore uglier." Royce said, and in a flash of confidence I whirled around, coming face to face with his chest. I jerked my head up to meet look into his eyes.
"Shut your mouth, Royce." I said, and there were at least several gasps around us. His eyes narrowed dangerously. My false bravado melted.
He's gonna split the rest of your face open, you moron. I hate me, I hate me, I hate me.
"When did you start growing a pair?"
Don't let him push you around.
"I don't need a pair to talk to someone who barely passes his classes." A round of oohs echoed around us. I could see the tips of his ears glowing a bright red even those his eyes had darkened. His friends were oddly silent behind him. He didn't say anything, only held my stare for a moment before he placed an apple on his tray and marched away. My body relaxed in relief, a loud exhale leaving my chest as my heart thundered.
Oh my god. I did it.
My burst of pride didn't last long, however, as a turned, catching my foot on something in my path and tumbling to the floor. My wrist twisted awkwardly as I landed on the palm of my hand. Ow. The contents of my tray were scattered across the cafeteria floor, and my wrist throbbed painfully. I could hear a snicker behind me. Royce chuckled from where he sat, sluggishly pulling the foot he had stuck out to trip me back under the table.
I'm going to have to see the nurse.
A pair of white and expensive looking pumps entered my vision, the perfectly manicured toes immediately recognisable. The temperature dropped palpably when Rosalie spoke.
"You need to learn when to give it up, Royce." She said, deftly bending at the waist to help me up. The boys who were paying attention behind her seemed to swoon at the sight of her. Royce's face scrunched when he seemed to realize who was talking to him. He didn't seem able to formulate a reply. I stood shakily, embarrassingly making myself as small as possible behind her. When Royce didn't say anything, a perfectly shaped eyebrow arched mockingly in her ex- boyfriend's direction before the blonde bombshell hooked a finger in my shirt sleeve, guiding me to the centre of the cafeteria.
My heart seized in my chest when I realized she was taking me to the place where she usually sat, with all the other flawless girls in our grade. She sat me down on the corner seat beside her as a deathly silence descended on the table as the girls noticed I was there. I felt like a rabbit that had just been thrown into open field for the eagles to circle. Rosalie didn't pay them any mind, instead opting to hand me half of her salad sandwich- she was on a low animal protein diet- and an apple. Her nonchalant approach eased the tension slightly and out me at ease. I could feel a small smile curving my lips as I stared at her in wonder. My shoulders relaxed from their hunched position. Rosalie ignored my staring for a moment before she huffed, turning back to me.
"I think today we can work on our assignment more, if you want." The blonde said, and I nodded.
I don't think many people realized that despite her looks, Rosalie was extremely intelligent. We had talked in length about the radioisotope part of our course, and now we sat quietly inside her bedroom, the sound of our pens scratching against paper the only sound the filled the silence. Somehow, she had made an effort to make me comfortable in her presence, as if she could sense how tense I was.
She had a pair of reading glasses perched delicately upon the bridge of her nose, the black rims accentuating the cobalt of her eyes. Every so often a lock of hair would drift from behind her ear into her face only to be swept back by a deft swipe of her fingers.
I couldn't help but stare. Who would be able to abstain?
She seemed to notice my pen had stopped its rhythm against the paper because she looked up, and effectively caught me looking at her. I gulped awkwardly. She cocked her head, smirking when I ducked my head back to my worksheet.
"You know, when I said you should stick up for yourself, I imagined you'd talk to the counsellor or something." I shrugged awkwardly.
"I'm pretty sure most of our teachers know about how horrible Royce is sometimes. No offense, I know he's your boyfriend and everything." Something flashed in her eyes for a moment before her expression turned flippant.
"He's not my boyfriend. We broke up a while ago." She said. My heart leapt in my chest with joy. She seemed to be examining my expression with a look of amusement and something indecipherable. I suppose I wasn't as good as concealing my emotions as she was.
"O-oh." I said lamely.
"Hmm. I suppose you summed it up pretty nicely. He's horrible." She shrugged, straightening a pencil sharpener that lay right next to my hand. Her gaze graced the bruises on my hand before she let a finger gently trace the slowly fading blemishes.
"Still, you shouldn't put yourself at risk like that." She murmured, and I looked up to meet her eyes. She seemed to stare intensely into me for endless moments, the deep blue of her eyes securing my gaze. I could not look away.
A rapid knocking on the door interrupted her focus and the spell that was cast upon us. I looked away awkwardly as she stood to open the door. Soft voices conversed for a few moments before Rosalie padded back into the room.
"Bella, we would love it if you stayed for dinner." Our eyes met once again, though she seemed to have softened immensely. I nodded hesitantly.
I felt like the smile I got in return would brighten the rest of my life.
Rosalie's father was a stern man, I thought. Mrs. Hale had just finished setting the table when he had arrived home, briefcase in hand. He did a double take when he saw me, his eyes immediately registering my distressed jeans and mussed appearance. His upper lip seemed to curl in distaste. Mrs. Hale greeted him cheerily from the dining room, introducing me as Rosalie's friend. He grunted in response. Mrs. Hale's smile dropped slightly at her husband's attitude, while Rosalie had her head cocked slightly as if curious.
Dinner was mildly awkward after that.
Mr. Hale, sat silently at the head of the table, occasionally casting disgruntled looks at Rosalie, while a polite conversation was being kept between Rosalie and her mother. Mrs. Hale turned to me during a lull in conversation.
"So, Bella, how do you know Rosalie?" I swallowed the roast potato that was in my mouth.
"All our classes are the same other than English. We were paired together for our physics assignment." Mrs. Hale looked impressed. A smirk tilted the corner of Rosalie's mouth.
"Nearly all of Rosalie's classes are AP." The blonde next to me hummed in agreement.
"Yeah, Bella seems to excel in science. She's very smart." Rosalie murmured, shifting slightly. I froze as I felt slim digits brush against my knee. I could feel a flustered blush immediately bloom against the skin of my chest and cheeks. I choked slightly on the water that I had taken a sip of. Mrs. Hale cast me a concerned look. Thankfully, I recovered quickly- for the first time of my life. The pressure against my skin increased as a palm slid against my thigh. I gaped at Rosalie as she seemed immersed in a conversation with her mother about how her AP classes were going this semester. For a few moments I was unable to move, my brain function paralysed. A generous squeeze to my thigh bought everything back into sharp focus as my hand gripped Rosalie's under the table.
Her smirk only grew.
A grunt from her father made her hand withdraw immediately. We looked at Mr. Hale who had placed his napkin on the table and had leaned forward to look at Rosalie.
"I talked to Mr. King today." He said, and Rosalie immediately stiffened.
"That's… interesting." She replied tersely. His eyes narrowed. Mrs. Hale and I looked at each other awkwardly at the exchange.
Mr. King. I wondered why the name sounded so familiar before I realized that Royce's last name was King. His father was a prominent banker that spent a lot of time outside Washington due to business. Considering Mr. Hale was a banker himself, they must've worked together. I had heard that the Kings and Hales were richer than anyone in this small town. However, I had rarely seen Mrs. King in public, and many said that she must feel lonely with only her son to keep her company. It didn't help that Mr. King had a reputation for being impartial to alcohol and women when he left town.
"I didn't know you'd…broken up… with Royce." He said. Rosalie didn't answer, offering a noncommittal shrug. Her father picked up his fork and knife, returning to his food as he continued conversationally. "I've always admired Royce. He's an avid sportsman from a good family. You'd do well to get along with the likes of him."
His words and implication set my heart beating double time for some odd reason. Blood rushed immediately to my head and I could hear it whooshing past my eardrums. Rosalie's eyebrows knitted together and she shook her head.
"I think I'll be fine with us being acquaintances." She said, and he sighed heavily. My heart breathed a sigh of relief at her words.
"I must say that there are bright things in his future. Mr. King tells me he is doing very well in his classes and is a very talented and impressive footballer. I do believe it would be a good thing to be involved in his future." He pressed.
This time, Rosalie's eyes narrowed in an all-to-familiar way that indicated she was about to say something very mean very quickly. The gleam in Mr. Hale's eyes dared her to say something to the contrary as she struggled to control herself. Courage welled within me at the look on her face and I coughed delicately to get Mr. Hales attention.
"E-excuse me, Mr. Hale." I said. "I m-mean no disrespect to Mr. King but I know Royce quiet well…" I cringed slightly "and I can c-confidently tell you that he is barely passing his classes and is at serious risk of failing two of them this year. And our football team barely wins any games... barely two this season. Coach clap says it's because Royce can barely catch a ball and that he and the wide receiver never do their training outside of school… he's been wanting to kick them off the team and is just waiting for one of them to fail a class so that they're ineligible for sport." I said shyly, finally looking up from where I was staring on their table to look around me. Mrs. Hale looked pleased while Mr. Hale looked like he was about to have a stroke, his face turning a shade of burgundy.
Gently, a hand rested once again on my thigh, and I turned to see Rosalie with a soft look on her face that was filled with an unexpected amount of adoration. My heart soared and butterflies erupted in my stomach. I was so filled with emotion that I ached slightly so I timidly stared back at the table.
"A-and I really think it's Rosalie's choice who she decides to date. J-just...yeah." I trailed off, shrugging slightly.
My notification alert rung as I pulled up to my driveway. When I opened my phone there was a lone text from Rosalie.
Thankyou for what you said tonight.
I nearly had an existential crisis while I debated how to reply to her text.
No problem.