Okay, so I got the plot idea from Sara Shepard's books. They're awesome. And yeah. I don't own Twilight or the Characters or whatever. I'm looking for a co-writer too. So if your up for it, send a message to my inbox and all that.

P.S. Review! It gives me inspiration to write faster. xD.

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Seven years ago my parents, Renee and Charlie divorced. They fought all of the time, and they really had nothing in common. And then Charlie cheated on Renee with her friend, Sue Clearwater. I was the one that broke them up, because I loved my mother and I had to tell her. It was the right thing to do, right? I thought so too. So they split up. Charlie married Sue months after the divorce was finalized. Mom got custody of me and we moved across town. My mom never remarried. Sure, she had boyfriends and all. They just never lasted very long. Until now.

********************

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I rolled over, yanking the pillow over my head to drown out that incessant noise.

Beep. Beep. BEEP!

Fucking A! I shot out of bed, awake and annoyed.

"Bella, honey! You're going to be late for school!" Renee called from downstairs. I could already smell the burnt pancakes from my upstairs bedroom. Stumbling out of bed, I combed through my knotted hair with my fingers and made my way across the room to my closet. My wardrobe lacked all things Aeropostale and anything else you'd like preppy cheerleaders strutting around in. I grabbed a pair of ripped skinny jeans and yanked those on without too much bruising, followed by a blue plaid shirt Alice bought me last week that she insisted was made for me. My entire wardrobe was courtesy of the pixie queen, herself.

Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed and tripping on my way down the stairs. My mom sat at the computer, probably talking to this guy she meet on Match dot com last week. He had no pictures on his profile that I knew of, so I automatically assumed he was some weird biker with tattoos covering every inch of his body. "He send a picture yet?"

"Nope," Renee sighed.

Definitely sure it was some biker creep now.

"Oh, breakfast is on the table. I've got to get to work but I'll see you after the show tonight." Renee logged off the computer, shutting off the modem. She kissed me on the cheek (leaving a nasty red smudge, I might add) and was out the door before you could say 'Harry Potter!'

The burnt pancakes were rubbery looking now, I noted. Grimacing at the bitter taste of a dry pancakes, I dumped the plate into the trash and grabbed a cereal bar from the cupboard. Munching on the bar lost in thought, I missed the first fifteen sounds of the horn before I finally recieved a irritated text message.

Hurry the hell up! - A.

Coming, I typed back. Send.

Hitting my elbow on the door, I yanked up my backback and pulled on a heavy coat.

"Hey, I love your shirt!"

Alice was always chipper in the mornings...and every other time in between. We were completely polar opposites, but we've been best friends since I pushed a kid that had taken her cookie in kindergarten. We've been inseperable since. "You should," I rolled my eyes for effect. "You did buy it."

Alice grinned in my direction. "And it's so you. It compliments your hair nicely. And its actually your size. You can actually tell you have breasts."

I shot her a whithering glare. "I already knew I had boobs. It doesn't help with avoiding Mike Newton if I'm showing some cleavage."

"Every guy has a cleavage detector installed. So, you'll catch the attention of other guys than just Mike. And if you get a boyfriend, he might back off!"

Her logic didn't sit well with me. I decided to change the subject. "Renee managed to score tickets to the Art show tonight. Wanna go?"

Alice's eyes light up like Christmas morning. "Yes. Fun! Maybe there will be some fioneeeee artsy types that will appreciate your 'The-world-hates-me-teenage-angsty-ness.' Maybe one will want to paint you or something." Alice wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Uh-huh. Unlikely."

We pulled into the school parking lot and into Alice's spot, squeezed between Rose's brand new BMW and Jasper's '68 Mustang. Alice was out of her car and wrapped around Jasper before I could even unbuckle my seat belt.

"See you later, Alice. Jasper." I waved bye to my friends and walked quickly through the damp lawn on my way to my first period class.

************

"Hold still, Bella!" Alice demanded all while yanking through my hair.

"It's an art show, not cotillion. Is this really necessary?"

Alice responding by shoving a hair clip through my scalp. "Ow, damnit." I winced.

"Perfect! Those fancy artists are going to be dying to make you their next masterpiece!" Alice turned me around to face the mirror. Expecting to see Bella Swan in the mirror, I touched my face, as did the girl in the mirror. "Well....wow. Thanks, Alice." I smiled at her, making sure not to add my real opinion in with my gratitude. I did not like being Bella Barbie one bit, no matter if the outcome was fabulous.

"Now that your makeups taken care of, put this on. I've got to get ready now. Try not to mess up your hair." Alice thrust a black Charlotte dress in my arms.

"The shoes are on my bed. Now get out." Alice ran me out of her bathroom into her pink frilly room. I didn't even want to look at the ten inch spiked heels I was sure would be waiting on her bed. I yanked the dress on in the corner, careful not to get makeup on it or to muss my hair. There was nothing left to do but put Alice's deathtraps on now. I sighed dramatically, looking over at Alice's bed.

Oh, thank god.

Lying atop the pink comforter was a pair of gold flats. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I thought you'd like 'em. We don't want you tripping over the buffet table like you did at Rose's party last month. That might scar your chances of getting a date with some brooding sexy painter."

I scowled at her, pulling on the leathery gold flats.

**************

Alice and I arrived at the show a alf hour after the event started. While I couldn't do much more with a paint brush can make a mess, I thoroughly enjoyed looking at other peoples work and guessing the emotion behind it.

By the time I was looking at my third piece, Alice excused herself to go mingle. I had a feeling she only accompanied me to make friends and try and set me up. The plan always fell through, but she never gave up hope. She was more involved with my love life than I was.

I moved on to the fourth piece, it drawing in my attention more than the previous pieces. The image itself made me blush. It was very....lewd. I usually avoided paintings of nude individuals, but the power of the brushstrokes captivated me.

"If you ask me, the model in this particular piece looks like a hooker," a voice breathed into my ear.

Startled, I yelped in surprise, falling back against the stranger. A chuckle escaped his lips as his cold hand grasped my elbow to keep me from falling flat on my ass. Blood rushed to my face, heating up my cheeks to a bright pink.

"I'm so sorry. You scared me." I breathed out, my voice hoarse, turning around to meet my savior.

Oh. My. God.

A bronze haired Adonis stood in front of me, a crooked smile etched into his perfect face. More blood pooled to my cheeks.

"It's my fault, really. I snuck up on you. So, what did you think of Edward Cullen's painting?" He nodded his head back to the painting I had been staring at so intensely before he startled me out of my reverie.

I made sure to slow my breathing before I spoke again. "Your right. She does look like a hooker." I averted my eyes back to the image before me before I blushed even harder at the way he was looking at me now. "It's lewd. Euro-trash...yet sort of powerful. I don't know."

"Huh. Never thought of it that way." was Adonis' reply. He opened his mouth to continue, but a older womanly version of him came up and placed her hand on his shoulder. "There you are, Edward. I've been looking everywhere for you." The woman turned her attention to me then, "Hope you don't mind, dear. Edward here is in high demand tonight."

Edward? The same Edward that painted the picture she just insulted? A new blush formed its way unto her fading cheeks.

"Uh--"

Edward grinned devilishly at me, before being whisked off by the lady.

My mouth was still agape when Alice reached me seconds later. "Omigod! You talked to Edward Cullen?"

"I...uhm. Yeah. Can we go home now?"

Alice frowned at my lack of enthusiasm, having no idea of my and Edwards conversation.

***********

I dreamed of Edward that night, the same conversation replaying in my mind as I got dressed that Saturday morning.

"Morning, Bella. Did you have a grand time last night?" was the first thing my mother asked me as I sat down for breakfast. Did she know? I gazed suspiciously at Renee as I tore up bits of charred toast and stuffed it in my mouth, barely tasting any of it.

"It was fine...."

"That's lovely. I've got good news!"

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "Yeah?"

She almost looked like Alice then, so giddy and excited that she could barely sit still. "The guy I've been chatting to on Match? He asked me out this morning. We stayed up til four am instant messaging!"

I wasn't even aware my mom knew what AIM was, much less how to use it. "That's...great?"

If she noticed the tone of my voice, she didn't voice it. "Call Alice for me? I'm having a fashion crisis. I absolutely have nothing to wear for a date. We'll need to go shopping."

**********

Shopping with Renee was bad enough. Shopping with Alice was torture. Shopping with both of them? The epitome of evil. My feet were sore and likely bleeding by the time Renee and Alice nearly scoped every clothing store in Port Angeles. Alice had found Renee "the perfect outfit." A Hudson dress that looked nearly identical to the getup Miley Cyrus wore to the Movie Awards and black slingbacks.

I was nursing my sore feet back to health by propping it up on the couch while Alice locked herself and Renee in the bathroom for three hours to get ready for the date.

At exactly seven oh clock, the doorbell rang. Groaning at the sound of Alice's audible squeal from the bathroom, I laid my book down and got up to answer the door.

I expected tattooed biker to be standing on my doorstep. Not Edward Cullen smiling devilishly at me like he did last night.