Hey peoples! Yes, I know, I should be over on Kryptoniteupdating there, but I'm so blocked, I feel like an offensive football player on my high school's team (Ha ha reference to our game on Friday, I don't expect you to get it). So I'm posting this story that I've been working on since, like, February and the title's real crap cause I couldn't think of anything else at the moment, and my mom was yelling at me to hurry up and get my a$$ upstairs to bed and I'll prolly change it later anyway, so what the heck?

This is a Twilight story, even though I'm kind fo anti-Twilight right now. Ah, well, I don't even know if I'll keep going. I just like the way I've written Rebel Bella in this one. She makes me smile, laugh, and then want to go talk back to my retarded teachers. Sigh. . .

Aaanyway, read, review, and don't get mad cause this update isn't on Kryptonite. Or Do You Believe Me Now, since lately so many people have been alerting that one too. . .

Disclaimer: I am under the age of thirty, my hair isn't a pretty, wavy, reddy-brown color, and my name is most DEFINITELY NOT Stephanie. So, that's it. I guess I'm not Stephanie Meyer then. Damn.

Kisses,

{--Inky--}

Chapter 1: Wouldn't, Didn't, Wasn't.

"Come on ladies, put some effort into it!"

Isabella grunted, throwing a little more force into her kick than was necessary.

How's that for effort? She thought viciously as the ball hit Jessica Stanley, who was playing net, in the stomach. She gave an audible grunt and stumbled backwards a step, and Isabella smiled a little. It wasn't much, just the corners of her lips turning up, but a much larger smile than she had given in a long time. Jacob would have been ecstatic to see such progress. Jessica had righted herself and was glaring at Isabella with unmasked resentment, but she just brushed it off.

The kids here were so petty. The smallest thing set them off.

All around her, girls were running drills and working incredibly hard to prepare for the next huge game coming up, and she couldn't help but feel put out. All these girls had likely had to try out and secure themselves a spot on this team; Isabella had automatically been in. One tiny little letter of praise from her coach back in Phoenix, and she was practically begged to join.

Not that she was about to turn down a position, but still.

It would be nice to know she had worked for what she got, every once in a while.

Being almost perfect was such a bore sometimes.

The coach, Somers, blew his whistle and dismissed practice, causing a wave of girls to drop what they were doing and head for the bleachers to gather their things and get the hell home. Isabella took her time, sauntering across the pitch slowly, letting the last remaining rays of sunlight warm her already hot, sweaty face. Sun was hard to come by here, and it was killing her. She was from Arizona; the sun was a permanent fixture in her essential make-up.

Damn Forks.

Damn Washington.

Damn her mother for suddenly deciding to ship her off to the middle of nowhere.

Isabella reached the bleachers and slung her duffel bag over a slim shoulder. She was incredibly upset over her recent dismissal from her mother's life, but no one would ever find a trace of that on her face. It was porcelain smooth, unbetraying, as always.

It was her mask, what she hid behind when all she wanted to do was scream obscenities at life for sucking so badly.

And so far, no one, not even her sister, had been successful in cracking it.

She left the grounds, never once looking behind her. She could've cared less about what she was moving away from today, even if it was only temporary. She would be back tomorrow, and the next day, so she felt no need to turn back around for one last glance.

But if Isabella would have turned around, she would have definitely noticed the shadow perched high up in the stands, watching her leave with a slight, understanding smile on their face, and she would have been curious as to what they were doing, because that's how she worked.

But she wouldn't, so she didn't, and she wasn't.

Short first chapter, I know. It's kind of like a prologue, except this actually happens before the next chapter starts, so not really.

That nice button over there, you know, the one holding up the sign saying "REVIEW", is just begging to be pushed. You know you waaant tooo. . .