BPOV
Luckily, Charlie had already left for work. I breathe a sigh of relief as I walk over to the kitchen for a glass of water. When I reach the counter, there's a note laying on it with Charlie's messy handwriting. It read:
Bells,
Sorry about last night. You know I don't really mean it.
-Charlie
My hand reaches up to gingerly touch my raw check, remembering the events from last night. Any forgiveness I felt for Charlie was now replaced by anger. I knew I couldn't do a thing though, because if I tried to fight back it would make things even worse. My cuts and bruises would be worse, more painful, or I'd end up dead. Maybe that's not such a bad thing, I think.
I glance at the clock above the stove, realizing how late it actually is. I run back upstairs and coat my neck in liquid foundation, effectively the black and blue bruise resembling a hand. Just to be safe hiding I repete the process, except in powder. I then grab a clean pair of skinny jeans and a white t-shirt. I throw my hair up into a cute messy bun and head out the front door, grabbing my black and white sneakers in the process.
After the 20 minute long ride to Forks High School, I arrive a few minutes late. Just to be safe, I head to the front office for a pass. When I arrive the extremely nice and helpful office lady greets me. "Hey there, Bella, what can I do for you today?" she asks.
"Hi Mrs. Oaks, can I get a pass to biology?" I ask politely.
"Of course dear," she says while getting out the small, orange piece of paper and signing it, signifying that it was okay that I was late.
Relieved, I head to the science lab where my first hour is I look down at the floor, blushing, as all eyes turn to me when I walk through the door. I quickly show the teacher my late pass, who nods and motions for me to take a seat. I then look at my lab partner, Edward Masen. "Hey Swan," He sneers, but does it so quietly that only I can hear.
You see, Edward has always hated my guts for no reason. Ever since I first moved here from Arizona, he has had his sight set on making my life miserable. Although he has never done anything to physically hurt me like Charlie, he constantly taunts me, calling me a slut or a whore, tripping me in the hallway or pushing me into lockers.
I ignore him, trying to avoid eye contact. We sit in silence, listening to the teacher lecture us on something until the bell rings. I jump out of my seat, trying to get away from Edward. Of course, Edward is following me. I brace myself for being tripped or pushed, but he doesn't touch me. When I reach my locker, I look back to see Edward smirking. I ignore him, or at least try to; I open it and from the top shelf at least 10 balloons fall out, slamming into me with icy cold water.
I then realize why Edward was following me, as I was now surrounded by a group of his friends, all laughing at me. I look down at my white shirt, which is clinging to me like a second skin.
Tears form in my eyes, threating to escape. I look up at him as his amused expression turns into a look of confusion. I didn't understand what was making him so puzzled at first, until I realize the cold water had washed away all the cover-up, exposing the handprint on my neck. I quickly push past the crowd of people as I run to the bathroom.
As soon as I am in the privacy of the girl's restroom, I collapse on the floor tears streaming down my face. I was so hurt, so angry. I didn't understand how someone could actually do this to another human being and not feel bad about it.
I sit there for a good 10 minutes, sobbing and drowning in my own self-pity. Only when I quieted down could I hear a knock on the door.
"Bella? Are you okay?" Edwards says softly.
"Go away Edward." I yell, my sadness turning into rage, "Why would you think I'd just 'be okay' after something like that?"
I don't hear him leave, but he doesn't say anything for a while. Suddenly, I hear the door creak and he walks in, sitting down next to me.
"Bella, please tell me what happened. Why do you have that bruise on your neck?" He asks, his voice filled with concern.
Like he cares, I thought, If I tell him the truth, he'll probably just use it against me. "I'm clumsy. I tripped." I say at last.
"Bella…" He trails off, and I could tell he didn't buy it.
"I'm telling the truth Edward." When he doesn't reply, I look up from the floor and into his eyes. He stared back at me, and before I know it his lips are pressed against mine.
AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorite/followed! It means a lot to me and that's one of the reasons why I'm posting a new chapter so soon (: *HINT HINT* As always, please review and let me know what you liked/disliked about this chapter and give me ideas for what to do about the next chapter! Also, let me know if you want this to be a BPOV story only or have some EPOV here and there.
