Hoo boy here we go. Soccer AU. This might not be a permanent thing so let me know what you think I guess. Also, first half is Bella, but I plan for this to be mostly Rosalie pov.
"Write about an empty birdcage. Write about the hinges. Describe them as dry knuckles. Write how I become a moan." - Elaina M. Ellis
...
Fire is inside of her thighs, acid leaking out around her breath and defeat coming off of her voice. She balances herself on her legs staring at grass blades soaked in blood and sweat. "You'll break us."
Tennis shoes stop in front of her cleats. "Only the ones that can be broken."
Bella grits her teeth, feeling bile rub the back of her throat and stands up. Stone face on and lips shut tight, arms behind her back. Her coach speaks again, an odd praise in the woman's voice as she strokes Bella's hair back behind her ear. " But you've always been made of marble."
…
Later that night, she's bending over the edge of her toilet, barfing up whatever she's had for dinner.
"You'll break us."
"Only the ones that can be broken. But you've always been made of marble."
Bella takes a shower with her throat still burning and skin stinging. Dirt and blood come off of her knees and stomach until they blend together. She couldn't tell the difference anyway.
Made of marble. More like made of blood.
Rose
The girl was made of cleats and a soccer ball.
Every kick landed in the net, every pass hit its mark.
And everybody watched in awe as she ran, smile on her face, breathing hard into the air.
She was born for soccer.
...
Bella moved to Forks sometime last month.
And she is already adored.
Faster than Rosalie could snarl, Bella grouped in with friends who hated Rosalie and her friends, and stole her brother's heart along the way. But Rosalie could tell she didn't care for Edward, or how her friends glare at Rosalie every time in Biology. No, Bella only cared for soccer. She only cared for the angle of the ball whenever she tapped it with her foot, or how to simultaneously defend the ball when she was offense.
Rosalie hates her.
Because the soccer season hasn't even started yet, in fact it's weeks away from starting, but Bella kicks the ball down the hallway to each class anyway, rolls it with the insoles of her foot under the tables, and then juggles the ball to her next class. None of the teachers stop her because they've seen what Bella could do on the field.
It's become a lunchtime activity. Everybody goes outside, sits on the bleachers, and cheers Bella on as she practices.
It almost always embarrasses the girl, painting her face with a light red.
Rosalie doesn't ever stare. Of course not. Not even when Bells grins as she slams the ball perfectly into the net. Not even as her giggle takes sighs away from stupid, pinning, teenagers. It's her personal belief that all sports are just fucking stupid, and that anybody who dedicated their time and effort into something so trivial obviously didn't have a lot going for them in life.
She, at least, surrounds herself with the only smart people in Forks.
"Jesus." Lauren sneers, mouth twisted in an ugly manner. "These people act like God himself shit Bella out."
. . .
"I like her." Alice says offhandedly one day, watching as Rosalie's grip on the steering wheel tightens. "I have her for English, and she's super smart! Especially since Mrs. Howard managed to wrestle the ball away from her."
Edward sits upright in his seat from behind Rosalie. "You have a class with Bella? Does she ever talk about me? Can you introduce us?"
Rosalie is mid-eye roll when Alice speaks again. "No, Ed. Bella isn't a celebrity, you know?"
"God!" Rosalie shouts, Alice jumps in her seat. "That's what I've been saying since she's moved here! Bella this, Bella that! You'd think she was in some sort of boy band with the way people act around her. She could murder somebody in the hallway and the teachers would swoon."
Alice rolls her eyes. "You're jealous."
"Am I?" A haughty smirk from the blonde. "There's nothing to be jealous of. A monkey could be good at soccer. She isn't some deity that created the sport." Rosalie glances at Alice. "Her friends don't like us you know? They label us as the 'popular ones.' They sneer at us Alice. She may be smart but she hates us."
Alice frowns, and crosses her arms. "No, Bella isn't like that."
"Oh? And you would know? Are you two BFFs? Do you braid the other's hair and talk about boys?" Rosalie shifts into neutral and pulls on her parking brake rather harshly.
Alice levels her with a glare that could freeze all of Antarctica again, she unbuckles and gets out, making sure to slam the door and rub against the cherry red paint.
Rosalie winces. That was sure to leave scratches.
"Do you have to be such an insufferable asshole all the time?" Edward hisses at her.
Rosalie sticks her chin in the air. "Get out of my car. You can catch a ride home with Emmett today." She hears a scoff and another slam of her door.
God, she thinks, do these animals have no respect for my car?
…
Her steps don't falter when she walks into Biology. They don't falter when Alice refuses to greet her. They don't falter when one of the football players whistle after her.
She makes eye contact with deep brown eyes, and a slim figure sitting at her desk. She clenches her jaw. She never asks to suffer but she still does.
"Good morning, Rosalie." Her voice is soft, stark contrast to her favored sport. Rosalie's steps falter now.
She feels the eyes of Angela and Mike glaring into her back.
Rosalie stares into Bella's eyes as she moves her chair to the furthest end of the table.
Bella gives her a sad smile. "I would walk the ends of the earth to figure out what I did to you to offend you so greatly."
Rosalie groans under her breath, turning her head sharply away from the girl in jersey and a high ponytail. She feels heat flood her cheeks. She would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the attention she was receiving.
Instead of answering, Rosalie places her notebook to her left side, and her pencil and pen on the right. Perfect. Everything was perfect.
She ignores the curious tilt to her lab partner's head.
"Maybe one day you'll say something to me." Bella chuckles softly. "Obviously today is not that day."
…
Her room is nothing short of precise and organized. Her books and clothes were all color coordinated. Her chair sat at a perfect angle between her desk and the window. Not a speck of dust graced any surface of her room.
Perfect. Just like she wanted it, just like it had to be.
She got home earlier than the rest did, but that doesn't mean she misses how Edward comes bursting into the house.
"I talked to Bella today. I think I might ask her out to homecoming."
Rosalie positively wants to die at this moment in time. Frantically, she starts to search for a pair of headphones. It's almost orgasmic when she places them over her head and a podcast comes on.
She doesn't hear Edward and his folly, or how Alice stops at her door, and considers knocking.
All that matters to her is the leather ear cups against her head and the darkening sky.
She had a schedule, one that was perfect.
Heaven and Hell be damned if she lets Bella Swan ruin that.
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