Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. This takes place after the first book because that's how far I've gotten.
Bella had changed drastically. She was no longer the person she was before. Edward had broken her heart weeks after the prom for the obvious reasons of being afraid of physically ailing her and unwilling to change her. He'd been hoping for a clean and virtually painless brake when he finally got up the guts to do it, but flew off the handle when she began yelling at him and sobbing her objection, repeating OVER and OVER "why can't you just change me? why can't you love me the way I love you?" That hurt. He'd lost control and yelled at her for her lack of comprehension, because it just seemed so logical that she couldn't be dangling ravenous romantic temptations in front of him forever and expect him not to jump.
The summer had passed, with absolutely no contact between Bella and Edward. He'd tried to call her but once, the time that Bella told Charlie that she didn't want to talk Edward. The summer nights, when Bella slept Edward was always at her window, and even entered her room on occasion, for missing the familiarity with Bella and being in her room to watch her.
Now it was September, the start of Bella and Edward's senior year, and Edward had resolved to reinstate the friendship status that they'd achieved last year, before he'd asked her to tell people that they were dating to "avoid further questions", before they'd started being inseparable, and before he'd tried kissing her.
Edward stood in the driveway, staring up at Bella's window. It'd been fifteen minutes since Charlie had left and Bella still had not left her bedroom. His brow furrowed. He was certain that she'd planned to go to school, but the sound of heavy metal still blared from beyond the window.
Bella's hair hung low on her back, dyed a stunning shade of ebony which clashed with her chinadoll skin. She'd learned to properly sketch her eyes with eyeliner and dark dramatic shadows, her lips were often coated in reds, black, and sometimes pale pinks that called more attention to her lovely eyes. She ate less, smoked more (yeah, she'd started smoking), and listened to punk-rock and thrash metal instead of Debussy. She'd gotten a whole new wardrobe, which ended up slung half-heartedly on her floor after wear, until she was finally forced to do laundry.
Bella shoved books carelessly into her bag, listening to her scream-o metal in the background. She slowed, bent over her bag with an algebra book in hand, sensing someone at her window.
"What is this shit?" A familiar voice inquired from the window.
Her fingers closed over a square plastic case and she chucked it in the direction of the visitor at her window.
"Track three," She grunted, further gorging her bag with hardcovers.
Edward's reflexes helped him catch the cd case before it pelted him in the chest, after which he flipped open the plastic case and slid the booklet out, opening up to track three as the song began spitting lyrics into the small room. His toffee eyes skimmed the stanzas of lyrics on the booklet page.
'Just stop enough of the limitless critical comments on my life
Just drop the judgement and all of your pseudo-involvement in my life
Step back a moment, and look at the miracle started in our life -
Just stop with all of your little deliberate problems with my life
Enough of all the crippling, terrible pain we feel inside "
Edward disapprovingly shook his head and closed the cd case, chucking it like a frisbee out the window.
"Now I know why they're called Disturbed," He muttered condescendingly.
"What do you want, Edward?" Bella snapped moodily, blowing her brand new charcoal bangs out of here eyes.
"To ask you if you needed a ride to school. . . . I thought I might extend the olive branch, so to speak," He offered, gracefully speaking like he'd always been able to do.
"I have a truck," Bella pointed.
"I know. But you didn't seem to mind my offering. . . ." He drifted off, not wanting to bring up any unpleasant memories.
"Back then I risked my life for a ride because I wanted to spend time with you."
Edward gave an exasperated sigh and looked at her.
Bella rolled her eyes and started again, "No, Edward, I do not want a ride with you to school."
Edward sat thoughtfully for a moment on her window sill, thinking to himself with an amused look.
"What?" Bella asked.
"I was just thinking about how easy it would be to make you. Look, we need to talk," Edward soothed.
"Don't coddle me, Edward, I'm not a child. . . I don't have anything to say to you, you said enough at the prom, and then some a week after, so why don't you just leave me alone?"
"If you don't come willingly, I will treat you like a child, and I'll put you over my shoulder and strap you into the car. If you try anything that I don't like, you know I'm more than equipped to stop you before you finish the thought in your angry little heart," Edward sigh, ducking the sill and stepping into her room.
Bella's eyes flitted and Edward read them like a book. A litany of emotions flicking through her doe-eyes: Hurt, confusion, hope.
Bella's heart swelled.
And finally her eyes decided the final chapter. Rage.
"Fuck. You," She said each word separately, giving him time to absorb the insult.
"Is that your final answer?" He asked calmly, folding his hands behind his back.
"Yes," She bit hard, so hard her she almost cut her lips with her tongue.
"Alright," Edward seemingly conceded, lowering his head and smiling.
He looked so beautiful in his black long-sleeve shirt and black slacks. His hair light, his clothing dark, it was the perfect kind of contradiction.
He strode forward so quickly her brain was still screaming in delayed reaction by the time he had her schoolbag in one hand and her arm in the other.
"Ow! You're hurting me!" She slung a pouty tone at him.
He rose an eyebrow, challenging the fake-o guilt trip, "Baby, please, I can feel the blood flowing under my fingertips," he leaned forward, nearly putting his lips to her ear, "I haven't broken a single vessel."
She shivered, that last sentence held a sultry, lustful tone. Bella whimpered, pushing her lips out in a full pout, tempting, taunting, and teasing.
"You're not fooling anyone," Edward breathed, dragging her to the door.
Bella kept her word, she did not submit without a fight. She dragged her feet, kicked, screamed, and tried her best to gain some sort of physical or emotional leverage, but she was no match for Edward, she suspected he knew her thoughts a full thirty seconds before she did because he was always ready.
By the time she'd refused to let go of the doorknob and sat herself down hard at the front, and sobbed out a very pissy breath.
"Bella, you really must stop this, it's so juvenile. Don't tell me you're not above this, it really is unattractive," Edward parleyed reasonably.
"Psht, like I care what you find attractive? I can have anyone I want. And I will. I'm not interested in attracting guys like you anymore."
Her heart stabbed with regret at her own words. How could she be such a vindictive little bitch? She loved him, she loved his auburn hair, and his stupid chameleon eyes, the eyes she needed a map to avoid getting lost in. . . Stop it!
"Traitor. . . ." She muttered, knowing that to Edward even if she kept her mouth shut he would have read her lips.
"Sure, whatever you want to think of me as," He mumbled, "but that doesn't negate your ass being in the passenger seat of my Volvo, I am taking you to school. I am returning you home, and I am the one who's controlling this situation, so if you don't like it that's just too bad," He informed her.
O-face Isabelle at your service. How could he be so mean to her? So cold. His voice almost bit her ears with frost, it hurt her eardrums to listen to him speak to her like that.
"How dare you. I will never speak to you again if you ever touch me, and I will not ride with you in your stupid fucking car," Bella snapped, her eyes brimming with impotence and anger, about to spill, but not quite.
"Then you'll just have to listen," Edward said nonchalantly, an expression of paternal guardianship forming on his face.
Again, like lighting without thunder, he snatched up her arm in a feathery, yet somehow firm grip. Inescapable, Houdini couldn't have outdone him.
He hauled her up, humiliatingly enough, he slung her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and took her to the car.
She set her face in a perma-glare knowing nothing she could do or say could stop him, she'd call the police, but why bother?
He was in the car with the ignition on by the time her fingers brushed the door handle, he pressed the automatic lock, and backed out of the driveway.
