Authors Note:
This will kind of be an afterthought story - I'll update it whenever I feel like it's the right time to upload the next chapter.
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BASED ON A TRUE STORY.
Bella's POV: 12.
The first time I saw him I was only 12 years old.
Okay, let's back up a little bit.
It was my first day of 6th grade, and like any other first day that I have ever had of anything, I was nervous. Super nervous. First days of school are the worst, especially when it's a completely new building, with new teachers, and absolutely no familiar faces except the kids who were equally as terrified as you. So, I was dreading it.
I'm an anxious person in general - I'm always biting my lip, shaking my leg, and am just regularly restless especially if I'm anxious about something in specific. And today was no exception. I was biting my lip as I walked into my social studies class, dreading it. I wasn't bad at social studies… it just wasn't my forte, and not only that, I found it ridiculously boring.
Walking in, my nerves settled a little. The class had people that I knew, with some unfamiliar faces, but they seemed friendly. I looked to my left to see my new teacher; Mrs. Cope, she had written on the board. She smiled politely at me, and said, "Find your name on whatever seat I assigned you on the sticky note on the desks." I nodded, more relieved. This way, I wouldn't have an internal battle on where to sit, and nobody would have to be forced to sit next to me to be near their friends.
I looked for Isabella Swan on the desks, quietly saying "sorry" when I bumped into someone else who was also trying to find their seat. When I finally sat down, I looked around, pushing my brown hair behind my ear, and tried not to fidget. I generally avoided eye contact, and rubbed my clammy hands on my jeans, and tugged my gray jacket closer to me, hoping to God that I wouldn't have someone annoying sit next to me.
A girl bustled down next to me, excited and breathless. I eyed her note, and noticed that her name was, "Stanley, Jessica." She held out her hand so fast that I almost jumped out of my chair. I looked up, scared she was angry that I was looking at her name, when I was met with an over friendly smile, and a hand waiting for me to shake. I timidly shook it, and she went off.
"Hi! I'm Jessica. I'm new here! Oh my God, this school is HUMONGOUS. Isn't it? Everyone seems so nice, right? Have you seen any hot guys lately? I HAVE. I'm trying to figure out who's going to ask me to all the dances. I've heard rumors of this guy named Mike - apparently, he's uber hot. I'm so excited!"
I was surprised she wasn't on the floor; she said all of that without breathing.
Thankfully, the bell rang, so I had an excuse to not answer her question. Not that I didn't want to make friends, but I genuinely didn't know how to answer any of that. I wasn't interested in guys…
Okay, that's kind of a lie.
I'm a hopeless romantic; nobody knows it but me, but I can't help it. My parents used to buy me all the Disney movies, which certainly wasn't the best way to put me off of love, and then I developed a love for reading; I started dreaming about when the guy of my dreams would come and sweep me from my mediocre life, like he did in Twilight, or The Faults in Our Stars... because my life was pretty mediocre. I was a single daughter of divorced parents. One was a police officer, and the other was an interior designer. I switched between them every year since I was 5, which sucks, because I had to switch schools constantly. This year was my dad's year, so now I'm going to Forks 6th Grade Learning Center, which broke Renee's heart because she wouldn't be here for my first day of middle school; Charlie, however, was ecstatic. I didn't have the heart to tell him that the feeling wasn't exactly… mutual.
I loved my dad, I did. But being with my mom was just easier. It was more exciting; she talked enough for the both of us. I really didn't have to supply much conversation because she had plenty to talk about. My dad, however, was exactly like me. Quiet. Shy. He's not as anxious as me, but I definitely got some of it from him. I don't know how they managed to be married for 5 years. They're polar opposites.
I snapped back from my thoughts at the sound of someone trying to get in the door; and it was obvious they were having trouble because of a backpack and a skateboard. Mrs. Cope opened the door, and that was when I first saw him.
He had brown hair, tanned skin, probably from skating all summer, with dirt on his cheek, and a "REVIVE" skateboarding shirt on. His smile was big; like he knew he had messed up that he had come so late after the bell rung, but big enough that he didn't care or that it was on purpose. He looked like trouble; like he represented it, and chased it around wherever it went. And begrudgingly, I admitted he was attractive, with a jawline to kill for, and green eyes that if they were to turn on me, I'd be mesmerized.
I looked around to see that there were no empty seats except the one to the right of me; maybe he had just been added to our attendance. Mrs. Cope realized this as well, and sent him to the seat next to mine with a frown on her face, and dread in her eyes. I almost laughed when it was obvious what her thoughts were; this was going to be a long year.
She had no idea.
When he sat next to me, I subconsciously scooted my chair a little from him. If I had learned anything from being in school this long it's this: stay away from people who look like trouble. And just by looking at him, I knew he didn't just look like trouble; he was trouble.
He looked at me for a second too long; in fact, I'm pretty sure he did a double take. But I ignored him, and instead looked at his backpack, which he placed on his chair. He had written his name all over it in black sharpie.
"EDWARD CULLEN"
Strange name, I think.
I paid attention to the predictable "HERE'S A POWERPOINT ALL ABOUT ME" that Mrs. Cope had prepared for us. It was obvious that it was years old as she kept changing some of the facts with another grandchild, or another dog or cat.
Out of nowhere, I see an elbow moving towards me. I look at him from the corner of my eye, and a chord of annoyance strikes me when I see it's him leaning on my desk to lay his head down. Seriously, does he not already have enough room on his desk?
I ignore it, until his entire arm is lying across my desk. I whisper, "too close." His head snaps up, shocked that I spoke. My face is flaming in my blush, but I don't take it back. Slowly, he takes his arm back.
He looks at me for the rest of class, and I know I should say something… I just don't know what.
The bell rings, and I immediately push backwards to be able to get out of my seat. I'm almost to the door, trying to mentally prepare myself for math, when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see none other than Edward, looking at me with that stupid grin.
"What?" I ask, my voice quiet, but I furrow my eyebrows to hopefully display the message that I didn't want to talk to him.
"Nothing. Just thought it was funny how you asked me to move. You didn't even ask, actually." He lets out a little chuckle, his voice cracking a little bit, probably still going through… puberty. I shudder in uncomfortableness.
I wait for him to say something else. "Is that all?" I ask, my voice no less quiet, my body language clearly indicating that I was anxious to get to class.
He searches my face. He points a finger at me, his smile becoming crooked, and making my heart skip a beat a little bit. "Someday, I'll make you laugh. In fact, that's all I'm going to try to do this week."
I scoff under my breath, looking at him incredulously. He walks away, presumably to his next class… which is my class too. Math. I dreadfully realize we have math together too.
Make me laugh. Ha! Yeah, right. I'll show him.
Boys are annoying.
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Thank you for reading. I love you all so much.
