AN: I decided to start another story because… well… I was inspired. Please review if you like the idea, if you hate it, or if you would like to wait and see more. I honestly don't care. Just review. Please!!!! Chapter title "inspired by" Your Guardian Angel by the Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, which is currently my favorite song.

Disclaimer: My first name is not Stephenie, my middle name is not Morgan, and my last name is not Meyer. I think you get the point.

One

My Whole Heart

BELLA

My whole life, people have told me that I had all this great potential. I could be anything I wanted, or so they said. I did not; rather I could not believe that this was true. My parents, Renee and Charlie Swan, were the reason for this blatant refusal. I think you'll understand why fairly soon…

"Bella!" Renee called, her tinny voice echoing off the restaurant walls. "Can you take this food to table five, honey? My hands are tied!"

She practically threw the food tray at me as I passed by, nodding, as she was juggling the phone and cash register at once.

"Your food," I said, delivering the heavy plates to their rightful owners, attempting a polite smile.

The tallest of the three guys at the booth whistled, eyeing my mini skirt and beaded, turquoise tank top appreciatively. I made a metal note to wear leggings to work from then on.

"Hey, Bells! Do you mind working the counter for a while?" Charlie asked, zipping around the corner with an air of pure confidence and a spring in his step. I loved to see him happy, really, I did, but when he walked that way, it always meant trouble for me. "Your mom and I are going out for a while."

I rolled my eyes. He and Renee had been "going out for a while" every day for three weeks, and, admittedly, I was overwhelmed. "Dad!" I whined, sounding more and more like a five-year-old every day, instead of the mature college student I was supposed to be.

"Isabella!" he said. "When you take over this restaurant, you're going to have to get over this laziness."

I honestly considered throwing a temper tantrum, but then decided against it, choosing, instead, to try the innocent approach. "You're right Daddy," I cooed. "But… haven't you and Mom ever thought about… you know… hiring someone else?"

He laughed heartily. I should have known he wouldn't take me seriously. "Why would we do that when we've got you?" He pinched my cheek. I felt like spitting in his face. And, once again, they left me alone to take orders, wait on all of the tables, and clean up after all of them. Fun stuff.

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EDWARD

"I just don't get it, Emmett," I repeated, taking another long, savory bite of pepperoni pizza. "Why would Rosalie dump you for such a stupid reason?"

"Hey!" he snapped defensively, sipping on his chocolate shake. "Don't call my girl stupid!"

"You mean your ex-girl," I corrected. He grimaced.

"Whatever," he muttered under his breath. "I need some more pizza. Waitress!"

"Do you possess any patience whatsoever?" she asked, annoyed, stopping to stand next to her table, a hand on her hip. "What can I do for you?"

I stared immensely at her, trying to catch her eyes. I knew her from somewhere. Maybe… high school. But it didn't seem likely that I would have forgotten such a beautiful face after only two years. No, she was simply the kind of stranger that looked like someone everybody knew. Still, I had to know.

"Where did you go to high school?" I blurted out, realizing that I'd only assumed she had already graduated. I mentally kicked myself for being so ignorant.

She scoffed. "Right. And how about I tell you my home address, cell number, and, while I'm at it, the password on my laptop? I wasn't born yesterday."

Her harsh words felt like a brutal slap in the face. She had mistaken my curiosity for something more. She thought me dangerous. I should have been angry, but instead I pitied her. The protective vibe I held over her from the moment our eyes met began to grow inside of me. I was mentally tormented to find that she had become so accustomed to being hit on and taken for granted.

"Look, if you're not going to order anything else, I've got other customers," she continued.

"I'll be sure to tell your daddy about the poor customer service I received this particular visit," Emmett threatened. She glanced at me, trying to hide the pained look that flashed across her eyes.

I found his leg under the table and kicked it forcefully.

"EDWARD!" he shouted, glaring at me. "What was that for?"

"He'll have a pepperoni pizza," I told her. She gazed at me thankfully. If I wasn't quite sure before that I had known her before, I was then.

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BELLA

It took all of my willpower to refrain from slapping Emmett for that stupid comment. How did he know about Charlie? And even if he could justify the reason for knowing so much about my family life, what gave him the right to hoard it over me like that?

His friend, Edward, saved me. I had no way of knowing why, but somehow I felt safer around him. His beautiful green eyes raked over mine a couple of glorious seconds, and my breath caught in the back of my throat. He was so wonderfully perfect; the kind of guy that "girls like me" could only dream of. His messy hair, the perfect shade of bronze, fell beautifully over his eyes at a delicious angle. And immediately, I was sorry for questioning his motives. But then, with all the experience I'd had with guys, I had to be sure first…

"Sorry about that," he apologized, following me when I went to give the order to the chef. I stopped to look at him. He blushed a little. "Emmett… He can be a jerk sometimes, for sure."

"And you aren't?" I teased.

"Not unless you want me to be…" he said. I giggled.

"No, I am so tired of jerks by now. He nodded.

"I'm no jerk. But then, even if I was, I probably wouldn't admit it."

"Somehow I find it difficult to believe that you're that type of guy," I admitted sheepishly.

"That's a good thing, then," he grinned. My heart skipped a beat when he did that. "I didn't mean to come across as… dangerous or anything when I asked about your high school…" he continued.

"No," I shook my head. "I'm sorry about that one. It's just that… Well, when you know guys like I do… You get used to them being… arrogant…"

"Right. I understand," he agreed. "I was simply curious… because I'm sure we've met before."

Suddenly, the door slammed open, the welcoming bells ringing in a cacophony. That could only mean one person.

"Bells!" Mike demanded, stomping angrily through toward Edward and I. I looked up at him apologetically.

"Mike… I…" I stuttered. Edward's greenish eyes were tinged with red now.

"I thought I asked you to meet me half an hour ago," he continued, as if I'd never said anything.

"Well… yes, but you know Charlie, always taking off with Renee… and we don't have any other employees, so I can't just leave whenever I want to," I explained, babbling like a psychopath, no doubt.

"Than you should have called me, Babe!" he shouted, attracting the attention of almost every table as he grabbed my wrist and forced my forward. Edward winced. "We're leaving. Now. Get your jacket and let's go!"

"Mike, I-I can't leave now!" I rebutted, trying to wrench my arm away from him. Edward was looking murderously at Mike, though I had no idea why.

"Oh yes you can!" he threatened. "We're going out with Angela and Eric, remember?"

I flinched. "B-but who will work, Mike? Be practical!" I begged him, embarrassed that Edward was still watching.

"Well you'd better find someone then, or I'll-"

"I'll do it," Edward spoke up calmly. "Bella was just about to offer me a job, anyway, weren't you?"

I was a bit confused for only a moment, but then I glanced at Edward understandingly. "Thank you so much," I whispered, as Mike pulled me away from him. edward was contentedly tying the red apron I'd just flung onto the counter around his waste.

"It's no problem," he assured me.

"Oh, and Edward?" I called, Mike's fingers digging deep into my skin. He looked up at the mention of his name. "Forks High School."

A/N: Like it, hate it, love it, want me to go into exile for the rest of my fanfiction life? Then review and tell me that! I really need some feedback from you guys either way. The reviews determine whether I finish this story or not. So REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! That is all.

C.J.