Ok, so here's Chapter 2! It's a little longer and reveals more about Bella. We also get to meet edward!

Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight.

Chapter Two

First period's class drags on and Mr. Smith goes on and on about some substance in our cells I've never heard of before and how it affects our sugar levels or something. Really useful. I am sure Obama wonders the same every day.

I continue with my inane doodling as I ponder Alice's words. Why do I dislike the "good guys" so much? Surely, it isn't normal.

According to my "hardcore" appearance, as J and A usually call it, anyone would almost expect that I treat badly the easy targets, along with the metal head losers and their pathetic excuses of bikes I am supposed to hang out with. That I'd be into assholes that smell like grease and sweat, drink their lives away and adore John Bon Jovi like a god, even though they have no idea how good and soothing Otis Redding's music can be.

Hell, that's what I would expect from me. But no, I have to be the idiot who falls for polite manners and gentle gestures. Thankfully, I always caught myself before I went in too deep and it blew in my face. Except twice. Anyway…

And then another dark, scary thought crosses my mind. Even if I did allow myself get involved with anyone, why would he possibly want to let me in? Good guys –as I tend to refer to them- don't have time for my shit. They care about their books and their studies and their new high score on Call of Duty. Nothing more. They're carefree, they don't want to put up with my shit and they don't have to. I need to accept it eventually. I simply have too much fucking baggage. My childhood had always been fucked up and that dreadful night I managed to make it worse. Not only did I kill the only person that actually gave a shit, but Charlie lost it.

Yes, he'd been drinking since forever and he pushed me around a little, but he wouldn't do anything major. She would get in the way. She would defend me, because Daddy Dearest would never imagine laying a hand on her. He loved her. He still does. I was always the one at fault. I was the one who never got it done correctly or in time. I was always the one responsible. And when she died because of my stupidity, I had no one to hold him back.

Perhaps I would have asked her then, while returning from that party. I had just started junior high and there was this sweet kid, Paul. I wanted to ask her what that feeling I got every time he looked at me was. I wanted to know why I felt this way and it was her who I wanted to explain it to me. Instead, I asked her to look for a second to the right. She didn't see the drunken fucker on our left. Safe to say, I never thought about Paul again.

The bell brings me back to the present. I really have to start paying attention. I will, one day. Now, off to Calculus. Fun…

~*~TBL~*~

Lunchtime rolls around and I haven't seen the Cullens yet. They must be busy with paperwork. First day and all. That is what Alice said. In my opinion, they're in the basement, installing bombs and reporting back to terrorists.

They say I'm being paranoid.

I digress.

I stand in line with my tray and wait for my food when I sense him behind me and feel his nauseating breath on my neck and beside my ear. I shiver. And not in the good way.

"Hey gorgeous," he says, tracing my spine with his index finger, his voice dripping lust and want. I puke inside my mouth a little.

"Remove your motherfucking hand and you'll still father children one day," I hiss angrily, stepping away from him.

"Oh, come on baby," he whines. "We could have so much fun together."

"I sure as hell will, but only after you leave me the fuck alone, Jimmy. Your groupies are waiting for you, I'm sure they miss you. Get lost, Hunter."

Pfft, Jimmy. He might as well be called Clifford. He's a big asshole, but he follows me around like a puppy. Any girl really, still he thinks he is the man.

He huffs and turns around to leave, heading towards his group. "You love me; you just don't know it yet." He bellows over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'll make sure to shed a few tears at your funeral, after you overdose," I call back. I haven't even completed my sentence and he is already shoving his tongue inside some redhead slut's mouth. All yours, chica.

I turn back, facing the slow-moving line and shake my head pitifully. James Hunter is your typical high school bad boy, but not the good kind –if there is one. Dirty blonde hair in a ponytail, weathered jacket, shows up at school once a month, always reeking pot and I think I've seen him with traces of powder around his nose. If he hasn't od'ed by the time he's twenty-five, he'll be stuck here forever, running his father's grocery store.

As I said before, that's the kind of guy I'm supposed to like, but I don't.

I pay for the genetically modified items on my tray, also known as cafeteria food, and sit on our table with A and J.

"Hey, Bellsy, have you seen any of them yet?" Jessica asks, her blue eyes darting across the room.

"Stop calling me fucking Bellsy!" I yell, most likely louder than I should. That was her name for me. No one gets to use it. Not then, not now, not ever.

"Sorry," she smiles sadly. At least she looks remorseful. "But, have you seen them?"

"If I did, I didn't notice." I grumble quietly. I am sort of feeling bad for them. All this attention on them, they can't possibly feel comfortable. I don't know how they handle it. After the accident, everyone would stare. I involuntarily shudder.

"I did." sighs Alice. "I have history with Jasper. I swear if I didn't know any better, I'd wager he had been there himself. He looked so passionate about the subject and he's just adorable when he's concentrating! And he talked to me!"

Her voice has risen to a pitch at that point and she's practically vibrating in her chair, her bluish-gray eyes sparkling.

"No way! What did he say?" Jessica questions.

"He asked for a pen," Alice freaking breathes, with a faraway look on her face. She puts her elbow on the table, rests her head in her palm and stares at the door, probably willing it to open and reveal Jasper.

"Wow, that was deep," I say sarcastically, mirroring her stance. "So, when's the big day?" That girl is so romantic, it isn't even funny.

"Shut up!" she snaps and throws a carrot stick at me as I laugh. "One day you're gonna fall for someone, and you'll fall so hard, you'll land on your ass!"

"But you'll be there to rub it better, right Ali?"

"Of course we will!" Jessica buts in. I wasn't talking to her, but she'll do.

"Yeah, we got your back, sis-" she caught herself, "baby. We're here for you, no matter what." She gives me a pointed look, staring at my cheek.

Fuck. If she can tell there is a bruise, anyone can. And that shit won't fly with me.

I rise from my seat to go to the bathroom, when Alice gasps and grabs my forearm.

"Oh my God," she whispers and slumps down her chair a little. I guess I won't be going to the bathroom any time soon, so I let my hair fall in front of my face. If they see, I'll never hear the end of it and I am getting enough shit as it is.

As I plop back down, I look up to see who I assume are the twins.

Alice goes frantic. "Shit, shit, shit." she chants. "How do I look? Is my hair ok?"

"You're fine, relax." I reply, as calmly as I can.

I can clearly see what the fuss is all about. They look like models. He is tall, about 6' 3" and he has a few inches on his sister. They share their hair color, that kind of blond that borders gold and they have the same ice blue eyes. He is dressed in dark jeans and a light button down shirt and wears glasses without the frame. He looks calm and casual. His sister though is a different story. Designer jeans, low-cut top -but still classy enough- and heels that match her bag -of course- and echo in the closed room. Professional-looking makeup, professional-looking hairdo, nose held a little too up high. She's basically your everyday ice queen. I bet she's cheerleading. Emmett will love that.

"Huh, that must be their younger brother," Jessica comments absently.

"Yeah," Alice replies, though she is still following Jasper's ass with her gaze.

I turn back to the cafeteria's double doors, curious to see what he looks like.

Fuck. Me. Sideways.

Say I'm crazy, whatever, I don't care. I'll happily admit myself, as long as he is my doctor and takes advantage of me. He is the hottest guy I have ever seen.

He walks in with his head low, so I can't see his eyes. His shoulders are hunched, but I can tell that he is as tall as his brother. He can't enjoy the spotlight more than I usually do. His hair is a little wavy like his sister's and a complete clusterfuck like Jasper's, though it looks soft. I suddenly have the urge to figure it out myself. However, the color is different, unique and warm. It isn't exactly brown, one could say it was honey-colored, but that isn't exactly it. There is more to it, kind of bronze. No, that isn't right. Almost cinnamon-y, that's the closest you can get. In my opinion, they should invent a new name. His skin is slightly tanned and clean and his straight nose isn't supporting his black-rimmed glasses very well. He has to push them up all the time, it seems. His jaw is square and begging to be nibbled on, although it is clenched. He must hate it here. Join the club! His lips are full and juicy, but are set in a thin line. That is, until they part a little and his tongue peeks out to moisturize them. Hey, I want to do that!

He is lean and I can see some muscle underneath his fitted, black pullover. His stonewashed jeans hung sinfully low on his hips and instead of Justin Bieber fucking supra-tsupra shoes, he wears Converse All-Stars. I bet he's packing. He's like sex on legs. I want to sit on his face.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?" I am still looking at him. Ok, more like gawking.

"Hey, Bella?"

"What?" Now, he's turned around. Please tell me he has more of these jeans. They look magical on his ass.

"Bella, you're drooling." Alice thrusts a napkin in my face.

"Yeah, whatever." I don't believe her. I still check. "Sweet baby Jesus Alice, he's hot!"

"Who, Jasper?" she asks, alarmed.

"No, of course not. He's yours, you saw him first." You don't do that to a friend, it's a rule. Unless you are Jane Volturi, the school's official and copyrighted skank. Then you do it. Because you're a skank. "I was talking about Jasper's brother." I can't believe I didn't get to see his eyes.

"Meh, his ass is fine. But I thought you didn't like this kind of guys," Jessica murmurs indifferently, looking around. She is searching for Mike, I'm sure.

I don't reply. I am mad at her. She knows about the janitor's relatives in Colorado, but she couldn't get his name? Though, I'd still like him to tell me himself, so it is a good thing I don't know. But I am still mad at her. She said his ass is fine.

His ass is tight and spectacular. And mine. Or it will be.

Yeah, right, wishful thinking much?

Shut up, inner voice!

Do I need to remind of the necessity to visit the bathroom? To, oh I don't know, cover up your bruise?

I look down. She's right. If he knew, he'd be running for the hills.

He would never bother with me.

Too much baggage.

I still want to jump him.

~*~TBL~*~

The longer I stay in the cafeteria, the more that prickling sensation at the back of my neck intensifies.

Looking up is not an option. From all the tables in the whole room, the Cullens decided to sit on the one across from ours.

I quickly finish my food, get out and make a bee line for the back of the building. I slide my back down the wall, sit there and light one up.

I try to rationalize with myself. I make a bigger deal out of it that it needs to be. He is just another student, like anyone else. He isn't important. He is nothing to me. So what if he is tall and lean? So what if his hair is that unusual shade of copper-but-not-exactly? So what if his jaw is lickable and his lips look so soft and-

I stop myself right there. Nothing will happen, I had promised myself. I just need to be reminded of that promise. Besides, I haven't seen him all day in any of my classes. If only I can avoid him during lunch, I'll be fine.

I finish my cigarette and head back inside. The bell will ring any moment, signaling the loss of another hour or so of my life. I make a short stop at my locker, visit the bathroom to check my makeup and recently revealed tattoo, and go to my English class.

One could say it's my favorite subject. It's not like I am a straight A student, not by a long shot, but I still enjoy it. I bet he is a straight A student. Ugh, fuck it.

I walk in and go straight for the back of the room. I pull out my book, a notebook, a pen and my paper. It isn't the best I could have done, but at least it isn't overdue this time. Surely, Mr. Parker can appreciate that.

And if he can't, a bit of cleavage will do the job, I think bitterly.

He is a big asshole, that one. He must be pushing fifty, still he checks out all of his female students every time one has to stand up for some reason. He'll probably end up being one of those old farts who pinch their nurses' asses. I bet his favorite book is "Lolita".

I check my sheets one last time, put them in order and make my way towards his desk. That's when I get hit. Not by him, but his stench. Ever heard of the word shower? It's customary you do it more often than twice a year.

I take one last, deep breath -from my mouth so I don't have to smell him again- and close the distance between us.

"Here's my paper Mr. Parker," I tell him coldly and place it in front of him. He picks it up and puts it carefully in his briefcase.

"Miss Swan, the deadline is in two days." He looks up. "I'm impressed." He is totally checking out my rack.

I cross my arms in front of my chest and clear my throat. Loudly.

"Eh, what can I say? I actually want to graduate next year."

"Eager to leave, aren't we, Miss Swan?" Is he for real? Just let me go!

"Like you wouldn't believe." I smirk back.

"Won't you miss us? I mean this town."

"No, I actually hate you. I mean this place." He scowls. My smile grows bigger. I turn on my heel and go back to my seat, as the room starts filling up. I make an extra effort not to sway my hips too much. I don't want him fixating on them. He's totally read "Lolita". Too bad I'm not twelve. And I don't want to fuck him.

Five minutes later, the door rushes open just as the last bell is about to ring. I don't bother to lift my head. Another late student, I think. Big mistake.

"Aah, Mr. Cullen, right on time." Professor Parker greets him.

I look up to see him sign something. I assume it is his slip. He's supposed to return that to the reception at the end of the day.

"Here's the list with books we're reading this year. Go take your seat." He pushes up his glasses and thanks him.

I have to bite down on my lower lip to keep from moaning out loud when I see him walking lithely, messed up hair and all, towards… me?

Only then does it dawn on me that the only seat available is the one next to me. Gah, seriously?

Calm down, Bella, calm down. Stick to the plan. Just ignore the Adonis right fucking beside you, as planned.

Yeah, ok, I can do that, easy enough. I will just have to ignore the Greek God and all his sexiness for the rest of the fucking year.

Easy enough… not!

The fine hairs at the nape of my neck stand at attention. I feel the temperature rise, my pulse starting to race, my palms sweat. I am on the verge of hyperventilating and he hasn't even approached me yet.

I try once again to calm my shit down and give myself a pep talk. It's fine, everything's fine, no reason to worry. He's just another stud-

But my attempts are all in vain, for as soon as he sits down next to me, I am done for.

For an unknown, unexplainable reason, I feel myself gravitating to him. I suddenly have this overwhelming need to lean towards him, to feel him close to me.

As he deposits his stuff on the desk, I angle my body a little more to the left, possibly to the point it would be deemed uncomfortable, but still subtle.

The more I stay in this position, the more I feel his body heat radiating from him. And don't get me started on his scent. So sweet and yet spicy. He smells of sandalwood and curry. Perhaps an iota of nutmeg is thrown in there, as well. It is so warm and cozy and… just him.

I sit back up straighter in my chair as he, too, turns to look towards the blackboard.

Focus, Bella, Jesus! You can't afford to do that right now. Remember Felix? Or the asshole that followed up, Jared?

Doing the same mistake again would just be plain dumb. Still, something tells me this guy right next to me will render me stupid.

~*~TBL~*~

Time ticks by, second by agonizing second, and I am growing more and more agitated. Class is almost over and he still hasn't talked to me.

Isn't that what you want? Or what you should want, anyway?

Shut up!

Mr. P -for either Parker or Pervert- is about to announce our assignment, so I reach for my pen.

Adonis -as I call him in my head- does the same though, so he accidentally knocks mine over with his pinky, resulting in it landing between our chairs.

We both try to grab it, so it doesn't come as a surprise when we bump our foreheads together.

"Fuck," I whisper, rubbing it with my middle and ring finger.

"Oh, God," he exhales. He picks up my damn pen and puts it back on the desk.

"I'm s-sorry; I didn't mean to do that. Are you alright?" he stutters. Good Lord, I couldn't have scared him that much, could I?

"Relax, it's okay," I assure him as I turn to look at him. "It was my fault anyway. I'm fine." I conclude automatically, though as I look at him up close for the first time, I immediately regret the words as I say them. I am not fine. I am perfect. Correction; he's perfect. My God, his eyes!

They are nothing like I have ever seen before. Not exactly teal, not exactly emerald. It is the most amazing in-between color ever. I could solely relate it to that particular shade of the sea when it's sunny, the water is clean of seaweed or sand and you've gone somewhat deep and you try to look down. I can feel myself getting lost in them, deep and liquid, surrounded by thick, dark lashes.

I then realize that we have been staring into each others' eyes for far too long and I quickly blink away. I see him, out of the corner of my eye, doing the same and muttering to himself.

He is probably thinking that I'm a freak for staring at him. Or that I need contacts. Thank you, Captain Obvious!

Jessica says they're "classically brown".

I say they're plain and look like shit.

Whatever.

"Hey," I call, "um, it wasn't just me who bumped his head," I say as I start gathering my things. "Are you alright?" I ask, standing up.

"Oh, um, yes, yes," he stutters again, running a nervous hand through his unruly hair. "I'm fine, thank you."

I nod. Ok, I wink, too.

"Just say it," I hear him mumble. It doesn't make any sense though, so I don't stop to look back at him. But I want to. Badly.

I am just out the door when I hear rapid steps behind me.

"Excuse me, um, Miss?" I turn around to see him running in my direction, holding my notebook in his hands. Shit, I must have left it behind.

"Err, you forgot this," he says in a rush and practically thrusts it in my hands. He looks extremely tense, but I couldn't have possibly caused that. I haven't done anything to him.

He takes a deep breath, lets it out and sticks his hand out. "I'm Edward Cullen, one of the new students. Pleased to meet you."

I stare at him for a second. My eyebrows have reached my hairline at this point and if it wasn't for my makeup, my cheeks would have been crimson. His voice is so smooth and rich, completely different than before. It is deep but not harsh, like honey. I also go over his name in my head. Edward. Jessica was right. Wasn't that the name of one of Christopher Marlowe's plays? Edward III? Or was it Shakespeare's? Fuck if I know for sure. Still, it sounds nice.

I must have stopped for longer than I thought, because he mistakes my pause as rejection. His face falls a little; he lowers his hand and starts fidgeting.

"Right, so I,… uhm, I just thought that, well, since we'll be sitting together for the rest of the year, I mean, I figured it was proper, and necessary of course, to introduce myself, and yeah…" he rambles and chuckles uncomfortably, pushing his glasses up his nose again, while he waits for my dumbstruck ass to snap out of it and give him a response.

"No, you are right," I rush to assure him and raise my hand for him to shake. "It's Bella, Bella Swan. It's Isabella actually, but everyone calls me Bella."

He grasps my small hand in his and shakes it. A little clammy, I notice, but still soft. "Nice to meet you, Miss Swan."

"You, too," I respond. He tries to retrieve his hand from mine. The dude seems anxious as fuck. I can easily tell as he runs his hand once again through his auburn hair and shifts from foot to foot. I can't take it anymore.

"Oh, come on," I groan, startling him. "Look, I haven't killed anybody, nor have I ever made fun of any old, crippled ladies. So, why do you look like you're about ten seconds from pissing your fucking pants?"

"No, um, it's not…" he stammers.

"It's not what?" I ask and nod my head to the side, indicating for him to follow me.

He huffs and tightens his grip on his bag straps, walking beside me.

"It's just that well, at lunch-" oh, fuck me, "-this girl, she said she's Jane, came to sit with me and my siblings. She said that since we were new here and didn't know anyone, she wanted to give us a heads-up." Huh? "She told us who the good kids are, the bad ones, the jocks, you know." I motioned for him to go on. "And um… she… uh…"

"She what, Cullen?" I notice a barely-there smile. "Spit it out, I won't bite." Smile, gone.

"Well, the thing is that she pointed at you when you were leaving the room and made sure we understood that under no uncertain terms were we to come anywhere near you. Sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but she probably doesn't like you all that much." He snickers humorlessly. I see red.

"That fucking bitch!" I shout, making him jump out of his skin. I turn abruptly to the right, and since we are walking by the bathrooms, I drive my sneaker-clad foot straight into the door. "Την παλιοπουτάνα," I grumble, too low from him to hear. I should have worn my combat boots today. The satisfaction I get from hearing the frightened girls' screams doesn't last long. "Fucking slut. Don't listen to her. She's had so much cock her brain doesn't function correctly anymore. Fuck her."

"Yeah, she mentioned something about your temper." For his own good that wasn't meant to be heard.

"Well, fuck you," I tell him. "Who do you think you are, anyway? You come here and you think you know me just because some skank gossiped about me for two seconds? Newsflash, pretty boy, she's only trying to fuck her way into your puffed up wallet. Good luck with getting rid of that." I sneer and storm off, leaving him behind me.

"Wait, Bella. Wait!" he hollers as he runs for a minute to catch up with me. I ignore him. "I didn't mean it like that! You think I don't know all about high school's terms of endearment?" That makes me slow down a bit. I can relate to that. The name-calling can go from teasing to down-right torturing.

"What do you mean?" I look up at him. He's almost a foot taller than me.

"Really? Come on, look at me! My siblings look like models and I was BFF's with the school's librarian. And she is almost sixty. Everyone would call me Nerdward instead of my real name. Some didn't even know my real name!" His voice suddenly drops. "Trust me, I know about labels."

I am stunned. I didn't really know he had it in him to yell, much less at me. But I know what he is talking about.

"Well, I've been the 'Black Widow' around here ever since- um, for like, five years."

"What happened?"

"Something."

"You won't elaborate, will you?"

"Nope." And I left it at that.

Translation: Την παλιοπουτάνα = That fucking whore. it's Greek, I'll explain later.

Please reveiw, whether you liked it or not.

Until next Chapter...

Fairy xoxoxo