This story is about high school and teenagers and trouble.
It's got real issues that I tried to represent to the best of my abilities.
These teenagers do a lot of things they shouldn't. I'm not condoning their behaviour, I'm simply being realistic. If this bothers you, feel free to exit out.
I don't think it will be happy and silly and something to laugh at. Nor do I think it will make you cry.
They say write what you know, what I know is blunt honesty and cynical commentary.
I am not a writer, I wish I was, but I'm not.
The characters names and any other related twilight clichés belong to the wonderful author. I just screw them up and give them flaws anyways.
Review if you like it and you want it continued, please.

The first time I see him we're on the bus to school.

I'm sitting among the usual crowd, I have the usual distant eyes and everyone else is doing their usual sad display.

As we all go about our usual routines, the dreary Tuesday morning is numbingly, predictably usual.

Until it's suddenly not, the girls around me all shift and tear their eyes away from whoever is droning on at the time while the boys tear their eyes away from whichever girl their focused on this morning and their faces harden at the new development, at the new boy.

I roll my eyes and look out the window, I don't need another boy around, I don't need the drama that will come with it. I sit there as they all flutter and gossip, staring through the drizzle and trees and seeing absolutely nothing.

"Bella" a sharp voice calls me from my reverie.

Rosalie, of course. Rosalie scares people, Rosalie makes people jump to attention when she calls them. Rosalie is the only who is ever brave enough to demand my attention.

My eyes slide lazily over to her.

"Yes, Rosalie?" I drawl, sitting up slightly straighter and staring the blonde girl down.

Her hesitation lasts only a second and I'm impressed enough to listen to her next words

"We have a new student"

I see what she's really saying and I struggle to keep my face blank and my voice cold "no, I don't want to fuck him. Is that all?"

A smooth voice laughs and a form sits beside me. No one ever sits beside me.

"Well that's certainly a pity, are you sure I can't change your mind?"

I look over and I see green eyes, crazy hair and a little smirk. I look over at him and feel a flutter in my stomach as I register the feeling that's been absent for what feels like a long time.

Interest. He interests me, right from the start and it terrifies me.

I don't answer him; no one would expect me too anyway. I look away, back out the window, but this time my mind is turning.

The girls in front of me nervously scramble forward to cluck at the new boy, trying to cover for the rude reception I've given him.

Usually the girls would treat this situation as a public shunning, they'd insult and jeer and bring the victim down while casting me smug looks, vying for approval. Today they're stuck though, too sycophantic to insult me to my face, too desperate to reject the new boy to his.

The simple truth of high school is that it's all about power. You either approve of someone or you don't, they either choose to care about your opinion, or they choose not to. All these decisions though, are influenced by everyone else's decision; no one has their own opinion.

Most people give approval freely, with no conditions or integrity. No screening process, instant acceptance. This ensures, in most cases, that they'll get approval back.

If the approval isn't returned, and someone doesn't like you, it can go in one of two ways. The pack deems them inferior to you, and you don't need their support. Or they're considered 'cooler' than you and you're forced to fight, sacrifice and scramble to get in their good favour.

Ultimately, high school is a food chain. Anarchy only occurs when one person decides they can take another's spot.

I'm well aware that few girls like me, they're equally aware that I'm indifferent to them. Unfortunately, fate and genetics have put me higher on the food chain then them, and no one is brave enough to aim for my place.

Pity, I certainly wouldn't fight for it.

I don't see tress flying past as I gaze out the window, but rather teenage girls crawling over each other on an unstable rope ladder. Slipping and stumbling and stepping all over themselves.

"Bella!" Rosalie calls.

I turn my head slowly, easing from daydream, to find two green eyes and a wide smirk staring back at me. The bus is stopped and almost empty, Rosalie is paused in the doorway, holding it open and watching me impatiently. The new boy is still sitting next to me, smirking. Always smirking.

"After you, Bella" he gestures, indicating I should scoot over his lap. I don't scoot.

I stand with my bag and push past his knees, turning to catch his eye as I go.

"Isabella" I insist firmly.

His smirk only grows impossibly more crooked.

"Edward Cullen"