NOTE: So this is the second chapter of this story and I definitely have a feel for it. Please take the time to tell me what you think because I appreciate it more than you know and give pretty generous previews to any reviewers. So REVIEW!! And ENJOY!!


Monday September 15, 2008

I frowned at the reflection in the mirror. My skin was translucently white and littered with semi-healed cuts and scrapes, the fading purple of a bruise throwing the proportions of my eyes off balance. I traced my finger along the deepest gash—the one inflicted by my ex-boyfriend during our scuffle—feeling the rough scab and the smooth, pink skin surrounding it.

My physical wounds were disappearing, all noticeable traces of my bad decisions and abusive relations receding into the background. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about my mental state.

Charlie was in a tizzy this morning, checking up on me every two minutes to make sure that I was okay. The past week had been besieged by episodes of night terrors, one of which had occurred last night to Charlie's nervous surprise. It was obvious that my problems would take more than a week to mend.

I sighed and pulled the medicine cabinet open, cutting off my view of the battered girl in the mirror. As if being the new girl in a town of fifteen hundred people wasn't awkward enough, I would have the added bonus of looking like the Bride of Frankenstein. Tongues would be wagging the second I arrived on campus. Well, nobody could ever deny Bella Swan's ability to make a grand entrance, I somberly thought to myself.

Attention was the last thing I need right now. I didn't want friends because they would ask questions that I didn't want to answer. Questions that would seem harmless, but would reveal far more than I'd like to divulge.

I snatched the toothpaste from the thin glass shelf and squeezed a fat dollop onto the bristles my brush. Charlie rapped softly on the door causing me to roll my eyes. Wow, five whole minutes of peace.

"Come in, dad," I mumbled around the foam that filled my mouth.

"I'm gonna head out, Bells. Are you sure you'll be okay?" He stared pucker browed at me as if doubting my ability to take care of myself. The concern made my heart swell and I spit out the remnants of the toothpaste in the sink so that I could give him a proper smile.

"I promise that I'll be okay, daddy. I've driven a thousand times with a broken arm," I assured him.

"It's not only that. You're probably nervous about going to a new school especially three weeks into the year. Everybody's already situated and you may feel like the odd man out. You were screaming in your sleep last night, Bells. Obviously you have some anxiety…" he trailed off awkwardly, not sure how to continue. He was trying so hard to be a reliable father figure, so I made an effort to set his mind at rest.

"Well, I wasn't nervous until you brought up all of those scary thoughts," I laughed, wrapping my arms around my father's waist. "Don't worry. I'm a big girl. And I just had a bad dream last night. Nothing's wrong, so don't agonize over me."

Charlie, taken aback by my unexpected show of affection, tentatively patted my back and pecked the top of my head before turning to leave.

I shuffled back to my small bedroom across the hall and stood in front of my almost empty closet. At least choosing an outfit for the first day of school wouldn't be a hassle.

Settling on a pair of black skinny jeans and a worn Three Days Grace tee-shirt, I quickly dressed, unsettled by the ever present chill that permeated the air. In Phoenix, it was probably pushing ninety five degrees already and the barely fifty degree temperature of Forks was not agreeing with me. I grabbed my new leather coat from its hanger and slung it over my shoulders. The feeling of the soft leather on my bare arms was foreign and cold to me; it was nothing like the familiar feeling my old jacket that was now lying in a landfill somewhere, tattered and shredded to bits.

I'd survive. No use complaining like a broken record. A quick glance at the clock told me that I should probably get going, so I carefully hobbled down the stairs trying not to disrupt the violent bruises on my hips and legs. Charlie was already worked up about my broken arm and cut up face; he didn't have to know about the rest of my broken body. That meant running up and down the flight of stairs as if nothing was bothering me. It had been excruciating. I sighed in relief as I took each step at a time, not one jolt of pain ignited within my body.

The keys to the Chevy hung on a hook in the front hall. I grabbed them and slipped my feet into my flat, rubber soled black leather boots before securing the locks on the door.

With a deafening roar, the monstrous vehicle woke with a vengeance that startled me half to death. "Jesus Christ! What the hell does your exhaust system look like, Gypsy?" I figured that this car deserved a name so I settled for a temperamental trickster.

Though, it sound as if a cat been sucked into the exhaust pipe, the car ran smoother than I would have guest, but just as I up shifted to third gear, it moaned and expelled a black plume of smoke.

"Are you serious, Gypsy? Only thirty miles per hour? Ahh well, at least you tried your best." It was a weird habit for me to talk to my cars. I had this odd belief that somehow the vehicles would react to my voice and perform better. I fought the urge to smash my head against the staring wheel and scream in frustration as a biker whizzed by me and unconsciously pushed the heavy petal further into the floor, only to be met with a disapproving groan.

"Sorry," I whispered as I eased off the gas. Gypsy appreciated that and suddenly began cruising effortlessly down the stretch of back road. I was able to appreciate the surprisingly smooth and graceful ride that this unlikely tank exhibited, despite being an unrelenting speed whore. "That's a girl, Gypsy. You show off all you'd like."

The parking lot was filling with equally shitty cars by the time I crawled into an available parking space. I was hoping to arrive a bit earlier, but traveling at snail speed had messed up that plan. Not that I blamed Gypsy. Oddly enough, I was fondly attached to this obnoxiously loud hunk of metal.

About every single wandering eye in the quad zoned in on me as I sloshed through puddle after puddle on my way to the front office, my eyes trained to the darkened concrete. Before I could wrench open the heavy double doors, the vicious purr of a shiny silver Volvo—backed by at least a 500 horsepower, fuel injected engine—caught my attention. The music pouring from the slightly ajar, tinted windows jolted me out of reality. Fire by Jimi Hendrix.


Saturday November 26, 2005

A huge, goofy grin spread across my face as his strong, smooth fingers interlaced with mine, pulling through the throng of out of control teenagers. This was surreal. There was no way in hell that Bella Swan, the quite, plain Jane from Scottsdale was attending a raging high school party. But I was. And I was here with a gorgeous, mysterious, and popular seventeen year old. An involuntary shiver of excitement coursed through my body causing James to turn and flash me an adorable smile. My grin tripled in size.

The past few weeks had seemed like they were taken out of the pages of somebody else's life. I wasn't exactly a popular person, definitely not popular enough to garner the attentions of a cool Junior in high school. I was still unsure why James was even interested in me, let alone inviting me to elite house parties. I was, after all, a fourteen year old eighth grader with untamable brown hair, hardly any boobs, and a skin tone that refused to produce melanin. There was nothing special about me.

James, on the other hand, had the body of a twenty-four year old weightlifter and sand blond hair that fell in front of his gray eyes. His skin had a healthy golden hue about it, and a hint of stubble decorated his chin.

"I love this song!" I shouted as the musical majesty of Jimi Hendrix's Fire spewed from the subwoofer we were standing directly in front of. I started bobbing my head and swaying to the music, elated that I finally recognized a song and it just happened to be one of my favorites.

James chuckled and grabbed my hips, pulling me towards his pelvis. A small yip of surprise tumbled from my lips, but was muffled by the deafening music. The only boy I had ever danced with was Ken Cassel in the sixth grade and we had remained a good foot and a half away from each other. This was completely out of my element and I prayed to God that I didn't make a fool out of myself.

His hands grasped my butt, forcing my pelvis into his, so that one of his legs was straddled between both of mine. I gazed into his up into his face, sure that my ignorance was betrayed by my wide eyed stare. He just smiled, however, and began grinding up against me in time with the music. I followed suit, letting James' strong hands and the tempo of Hendrix direct my movement. Soon, I felt comfortable enough to close my eyes and let my head rhythmically sway from side to side, my long curls bouncing down my back.

The soft tickle of warm breath on my neck cause me to snap my eyes open, but I tried to play it cool as James' ran his tongue over my skin. He nibbled my ear, biting me harder than I expected. Reflexively, I turn my head so that my ear was nowhere near his mouth. I was suddenly petrified. What if he thought that I wasn't interested in him? That I was snubbing him? I didn't know how to handle this type of situation.

Before my panic could escalate any further, his lips crushed roughly on top of mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. To say I was surprised was a vast understatement. My eyes were wide open, staring at James' ruggedly beautiful visage. The hands that were holding me to his body, roamed up my stomach until they reached my breast. He began kneading and groping my chest as his kisses intensified.

The mob or gorgeous teens packed into the small living room did not cater to my self-consciousness. Everybody was busy guzzling beer, and there were more than a few people mirroring our behavior, but still I felt that this was not the place to be making-out. Not that I had any experience whatsoever with this kind of thing.

James finally noticed my lack of enthusiasm and coldly pulled away from me. "What? You're not into me?" The annoyance in his voice was evident and I quickly tried to assuage that false notion.

"No, it's just that there are so many people here. I'm sorry, but I'm not really that experienced with guys so this is so new to me." I dropped my eyes to my Converse sneakers which had suddenly become the most fascinating object in the packed room.

"Wanna go someplace quieter?" The arrogant confidence had returned to James' voice. I smiled and nodded. He was so cool!

"Where are we going?" I asked as he opened the passenger's side door of his fancy sports car for me.

"Have you ever been down to the old highway, Swan?" he asked with a wicked tint in his eyes.

I shook my head. "Nobody ever goes there, not since they built the interstate."

"Then you definitely need to go at least once. Live a little," he told me before jetting off, weaving in and out of traffic.

He parked the car in the middle of the abandoned highway stretch, surrounded by the barren desert.

"Wow, this is really something, James," I told him sarcastically.

He chuckled. "Are you ready for it?"

"Ready for what?" Now, I was confused. There was absolutely nothing going on here.

He stared out the front windshield, his hand resting on the stick shift. "For this!" And with that, he punched the gas, throwing me back against my sea. My fingers curled helplessly around my seatbelt. He double shifted, his hand weaving an intricate zigzag pattern with the manual shift. My mouth lolled open in amazement as the expansive highway flew by.

The speedometer was creeping into the red, inching past one fifty…one fifty five.

I was mesmerized by the seamless transition from gear to gear, the way the engine groaned as the car sped forward, the feeling of the torque pulling at the chassis. I was in love.

"Whoa! That was…Amazing!...like…whoa!" I stuttered after he had tapered to a standstill, my heart rate returning to normal.

"Told ya it was worth it," he replied coolly.

"How do you drive like that?" I eagerly asked.

"I could teach you." In that moment, I fell head over heels for James.

"Really? You'd do that for me?" He nodded nonchalantly and I squealed in delight. Before I knew what I had done, my arms were wrapped around his neck, my body resting on his lap.

He responded immediately with vigor, his lips working hard against mine. This time I was prepared and let my hands stroke the nape of his neck while his roamed under my shirt. He hitched my legs up around his hips and supported my weight with his arms as he clambered over the console and into the backseat. He laid me down on my back across the seat, the weight of his body crushed down on top of me as he began to unzip my jeans. My body stiffened in response. "James, we can do this," I protested.

"Why not? I love you, Bella," moaned James, his finger lingering on the band on my underwear.

"Before tonight, I hadn't even hugged a boy that wasn't a family member. Please," I explained, feeling like a stupid child.

"Fine, we'll take it slow," agreed a perturbed James, but he still tugged at my pants.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, hysterically.

"Don't worry. No sex, I promise." I nodded lamely and allowed James' tongue to invade my mouth while his first two fingers work their way into my core, his thumb rubbing against clit. He forced his way deeper into my body, but despite his violent motions it wasn't painful. So I kissed him back, not daring to rebuke him.

"Meet me at the garage tomorrow. I get off work at five. It'll be your first lesson in manual transmission driving," he told me as he dropped me off at my house forty-five minutes later.

I nodded. The genuine smile on his face made all of my doubts and uneasiness disappear.


Monday September 15, 2008

"Fuck you, James," I cursed to myself as I watched the souped-up Volvo pull into the space directly on the side of my truck. "The hell you love me!"

I snapped out of my bittersweet memory and stalked to the receptionist's desk wearing a pissed off grimace. "I'm Isabella Swan."

The secretary, Ms. Cope according to her name plate, started at my voice and jumped a bit in her chair. She chuckled at her overreaction and turned towards me. Her chortles immediately stopped as her eyes roved from my blacked eye, to the cuts scattered across my face, until finally stopping on my cast-encased arm. She cleared her throat and tittered nervously. "Oh, yes, Miss Swan. We're expecting you. I have your schedule right here. If you have any questions throughout the day, please feel free to drop in. We're happy to help."

"Okay, thanks a bunch," Ms. Cope didn't understand the sarcasm involved in my false burst of chipper-ness. She smiled and waved merrily as I exited the brick building.

I glance down at my schedule, the titanium white tinge of the paper turned translucent where drops of rain made contact. Apparently, I had trigonometry in building three first. Riveting.


A/N: Thanks for reading. Just to make things clear, Bella didn't have sex with James and is only 14 years old so she's at that age where she'll do anything to fit in and she is convinced that this is normal high school behavior because she doesn't know any better. So her bitchiness in present day can be explained by the horrible company that she kept in her earlier years, which will be developed as the story goes on. Next chapter she'll meet Edward and the rest of the Cullens!! Rosalie, watch out there's a new Queen Bitch in town!!

Previews for the next chapter will be definitely worth it, I've already started writing it. So it's definitely a chapter you should review for. Low self-esteem is correct by Reviews! You don't want me turning into Bella do you???REVIEW!