Prologue: The frying pan and the fire
There was a tangible air of excitement amongst the throngs of teens focused on the couple standing near the edge of the parking lot. Word had gotten around the student body that Mr Popular and Strange New Girl were about to get it on. It was a coupling that no-one could quite picture, hence the large number of students loitering around expectantly. This was spectator sport at its finest, and only the priority seats and the popcorn were missing.
They all watched as he hitched his arm around her waist tightly, heaving her upwards the way you might haul a drowning child out of a pool. What he lacked for in finesse he was trying to make up for in strength. She looked unusually awkward and slight, hiding behind a dark curtain of hair and underneath an over-sized hoodie and jeans.
She disliked the way her body was pressed into his chest, seeing in her mind's eye fleshy curves rather than feeling the hard, masculine angles she craved. She fought the urge to shove him away as he cupped her face, promising herself that this would be the only time; to stop the gossips, to twist the knife in another and to punish her silly self for ever believing she deserved more.
His lips found hers and the snickers and catcalls from behind them scattered her thoughts. She flushed, a violent flood of colour, mortified at being claimed publicly by Mike Newton in this way, despite having orchestrated the situation herself. He pulled her in closer, his arms a warm cage, and she could feel herself tensing, holding her body stiff and away from his, tiny tremors running through her muscles.
There was a soft sound behind her. She stilled and opened her eyes, feeling the atmosphere around them change and tighten. He was here.
The voice that followed crawled down her spine like ice melting.
"What the fuck are you doing, Bella?"
He was furious, his words dark and low. Barely held control vibrated around them, and he had made her name a nasty thing, like a bug that you wouldn't think twice about squishing underfoot. Bella swallowed involuntarily and prepared to meet his eyes. She knew their green fury would damn her to high hell and beyond.
She had her own inner anger to fortify her. She turned, chin tilted defiantly, her body momentarily rejoicing in being freed from Mike's enthusiastic grip.
"What does it look like?" she replied, with laudable composure.
Revenge was a dish best served cold, so they said, and she had some understanding of that now. She had seen him blaze gloriously in his anger but he kept his face a perfect blank mask that belied his tone. There was no mistaking the tension that radiated from him however. It was palpable, raising blood pressure and heartbeats all around. The snickers had long since stopped, and it was if the crowd collectively held their breath.
Edward captured her gaze. His eyes held depths that Bella had drowned in countless times. Usually they sparkled and danced for her but today they were the eyes of a statue mimicking life. Her own began to prickle and sting, tearing up as she stubbornly refused to blink and break his hold.
"Carry on," he said softly, stepping back to watch.
Bella turned back to Mike and briefly saw her own panic reflected in his wide eyes. She couldn't make him do this. She couldn't do this either.
"Piss or get off the pot Swan," Edward taunted.
He took possession of her hesitancy and his next words were poison and honey that slid against her eardrums with a terrible sweetness.
"Kiss him, or come with me."
She cursed his cleverness in offering her two choices that were almost equally unpalatable.
She battled with her inner demon and used hard reason not to go to him. She had to reject him. She knew he would not hurt them, although he had the capacity for violence. Mike would no doubt live to crack another corny joke and she would keep her hurt pride and anger smouldering for another day.
She wasn't ready yet to do anything but.
Bella reached up and leaned towards Mike. He barely responded but didn't move back so she wrapped her arms around him and gave him her mouth. It was the least passionate kiss in all of history. When she released him Mike looked worried. Bella felt nothing but defeat.
Edward had won again. Somehow.