All for Me, to Me, You Sue
Chapter 2: Time

Not for him, but rather, for me? My mind failed to so much as scratch the significance of his words. Possibilities rang dryly through my head, but I knew they were much too weak and unlikely, if there ever even came a reason that was past ridiculous. Nevertheless, the consistent thoughts occupied my brain, racing through my head anxiously as I hurried to reach my second period in time.

Considering the size of Forks, it isn't alarming that the size of its only high school was just as microscopic. I easily made my way around the campus to my Calculus class, where Jessica was waiting impatiently for me – and another full hour of scribbled notes and suppressed giggles and sighs.

Time dragged, as it always did, before lunchtime. Lunch had been a comforting period for me – to an extent, at least, with Lauren's unyielding lack of thoughtfulness toward our quite-too-hopeless friendship. The most I'd get out of her existence was the constant cold glares she'd shoot generously across the table at lunch whenever Mike or Tyler – or any boy, really – made even the smallest attempt to converse with me, vocally or physically. Her icy stare always added to my unwillingness to cooperate with the male species' tendency to concede to their natural, well, willingness. Today was no different as I caught her disapproving eyes when I went to sit down by Angela. We've accomplished a common routine with our seating arrangements: I sat next to the right of Angela, while Ben, her steady and immensely loyal boyfriend, sat on her left. Mike took permanent dibs between Jessica and me and, of course, Jessica sat next to his own right. Sometimes, I still think that this particular arrangement bothered Jessica some – why the need for Mike to specifically sit between the two of us? Across the table was Lauren, across from Jessica at the edge of the table, and beside her sat Tyler – conveniently for her – and from there, was Eric and Austin, who sat across the table from Ben. Overall, I was completely satisfied with this arrangement. Having Angela and Mike sit on either side of me was also very convenient. They were the first two who managed past the invisible barricade I've unconsciously set for myself after the first few months of his absence.

Actually, Jessica had been the first, but because she was also the closest I was with, it made a bigger impact on her when I simply began to ignore her, as if we were never that close to begin with. That set her off my tail for a while, and for a while, that impact transformed into anger. It was then that I began to realize what was happening to me. While everyone else simply ignored my behavior, she responded to it negatively. It suddenly struck me the way she treated me, and I realized everyone would have done the same, if they only chose not to have ignored it. In many ways, I was thankful that Jessica – in all her prying nature – didn't choose to do the same, or else I can't imagine what I'd end up becoming – or not becoming, is more logical. I examined our table as optimistically as I could manage, trying not to acknowledge what, or who, were missing.

"So, Bella," Jessica began enthusiastically, "I heard a new guy – No, I'm sorry – a new, gorgeous guy sits next to you in English now."

I eyed Mike. He was the only who could have told her because he's the only one reasonable enough in my English class to spill the beans. He shrugged with a sheepish grin.

"You two looked comfortable enough," he defended. "Didn't he wait for you in the hall?"

Before I could respond, Jessica absolutely glowed. Her eyes widened with curiosity and excitement. "He waited for you?"

"Well, yes," I began, feeling the need to suddenly keep his mystery agenda a secret – at least until I've uncovered it for myself to see if it was safe enough to spill.

"Oh my gosh, that's just romantic, like in a movie!"

"Um, babe," Mike interrupted her – she was obviously not done gushing.

"Hm?"

But, of course, she'd listened.

"Better shut up," he said flatly in a whisper without any tone of arrogance in his voice. His eyes were not at all set upon her, and I guessed that was another reason why she didn't automatically take offensive, as she would have done.

But it sure shut her – and more importantly, me – up when we'd followed his gaze.

Jessica had to twist her waist at least a full one-eighty before she could finally gasp at the figure behind her. Familiar – No, not familiar, but more unforgettable – golden sunflower eyes peered delightedly down at my possibly less delighted expression. I didn't even catch a hint of his presence until now. The intruder smiled politely at his other audiences, breaking me free away from his piercing eyes. I had only just noticed what he was wearing then. A loose, navy blue long-sleeve hugged him comfortably, its short V-line neck barely revealing the white undergarment that probably hugged him tighter from beneath his this sweatshirt. The extra size larger did nothing to hide his fully toned figure. Snug, beige pants hung down his elaborately long legs, visible in spite of the casual pose he was in. 'Simple' was an understated fact. He snuggled one of his hand in the pocket of his pants while the other held both straps of his black, leather backpack on one, broad shoulder.

"I'm Jessica," I heard Jessica sigh. I figured it was meant to sound more matter-of-factly. I guess I missed yet another one of his public introductions during my silent observation. It was hard to focus on more than one subject when you're studying something so intently well-made.

"Oh, and this is my… uh, boyfriend, Mike, my friend, uh… er, Bella Swan," she continued quickly – mega-ly charmed, I easily guessed – as she went through the entire cast of the table, mentioning some last names randomly in a confused trance. Mike snorted under his breath at her pause after her introduction of herself.

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you," he said serenely. "And ah," he dabbed his eyes on me once more, "Is it Swan, really? You missed that part this morning, Bella."

I felt all eyes on me at once. It even felt like the entire cafeteria bore their undying attention to me right then, but his eyes kept me on them. I shook my head mentally at the involuntary trance.

"Unmistakengly," I bit. It was surprisingly hard to keep any sign of my vulnerability in check. I didn't like it, not at all.

He narrowed his eyebrows together in the slightest – though I still caught it – before suddenly dramatizing it, his sarcasm dripping from his soft bellow: "Ouch."

"Why don't you sit with us?" Angela offered politely. I knew she was trying to ease the tension between us, which I'm thankful to know was much for my benefit. I wasn't baffled about her suggestion, either, for how else was innocent little Angela going to shake him off my temper? Tell him to get lost and desperately look for a life?

I thought I saw a hint of confusion flicker in his eyes before he smiled appreciatively at her. At least that looked sincere enough. Even Angela couldn't hold off the lightest shade of blush after that.

He composedly scanned our table for an open space and his eyes danced as if to say, 'Ah', when he spotted the space between Eric and Tyler. Eric and Tyler hardly shared much of the same interests, and therefore usually tended to stick within their own common ground-topics (that which usually involves Mike, Tyler, Jessica, and Lauren on one side and Austin, Eric, Ben, and Angela on the other). I guess it was safe to call myself neutral – the grey from black and white. He settled comfortably between them, right across from me – oh, my great luck – and casually delighted the group with a simple outlook of his life before Forks. He hadn't paid me any special gesture after that, and that was just fine – fantastic, in fact – with me.

The bell rang conveniently a few minutes later. I shuffled myself out of my seat and waited for Angela and Ben to take off with me.

"What's your next class?" I heard Jessica ask – Callum, obviously, for she'd just about done memorizing everyone else's regular schedule.

"Spanish 2."

I froze. A faint profanity escaped my lips.

"Oh, well then, you should walk with Bella and them. They're on their way over there, too."

"Are they? How convenient." But he sounded the word convenient as if it was meant to be something else, like interesting. I immediately felt his eyes on me, and group of sighs and soft giggles around me let me know that he was smiling.

At least Mr. Moore hadn't made him sit next to me, or anywhere near me, really. I sat near the back, close to the wall on the right side of the classroom, where the exit door was. Ben sat next to me, against the same wall, and Angela right in front of him. Callum sat across the room by the window, almost in the middle row of desks. He behaved well – much better than he had sitting next to me this morning. He only looked out in the pouring rain, his luminous eyes concentrated somewhere in the blurred scenery of the wet outdoors. Somehow, he looked peaceful and, of course, beautiful, even with his distant expression, and I wondered what he was thinking about. He had his chin rested on his palm, and if you're not looking at his eyes, it would only seem as though he was bored out of his mind. Every now and then, he would swipe his radiant hair aside from his even more radiant face, but that was all the movement he spared – not even his eyes flickered once. Not even when a girl in our class named Rachel clumsily dropped a pencil case full of various writing utensils and everyone turned to look at the cause, some anxious to see if it was something they could laugh about. It wasn't until the end of the class when everyone shoved and excused their way to the door that I realized the only way I could have known – because I was looking at him.

On the way to my last class, I kept kicking myself at how ashamed I should be, and then kicking myself more for not feeling so. It was unfair, how attractive he was and how that restricted my eyes from looking away and my mind, from feeling absolutely horrified and disgusted with myself. But more than that, it angered me to know that isn't all the reasons why, if that was even a reason at all. To be honest, it was hardly a kind of reason that would have affected me much, especially not now, not anymore. I mentally did this until the end of school and while on my way to my pride-and-joy truck.

The rain beat down against the damaged concrete mercilessly, like I'd predicted it would this morning. A wide, silver object glinted somewhere in the lot, but it was hard to identify it conclusively within the heavy shower of the rain. I squinted my eyes in focus, unsurprised when it turned out to be a car – considering this is the parking lot – but still completely bothered. Since… well, since then – I decided that was satisfying the past – I haven't seen a silver car within this particular parking lot, much less this whole particular town. I was surprised at how little the absence of it affected me, what with all the months I spent crying about it inside of my truck before class started. Maybe that was exactly why. These past few weeks, it seemed as though my eyes have dried themselves of tears. I was getting tired. Not exactly giving up, but too tired to move on still.

My eyes still shadowed the silver car – it was too modern for my all-classic-all-antique eyes to identify – while it patiently drove by. As it came to pass me, my eyes widened in mild horror, though that was uncalled for – a completely exaggeration reaction, I'd say.

Wheeling the car to life was none other than Callum Chandler. I felt silly at how obvious that should have been. New kid, new ride – duh. He suddenly tilted his head my way as if he'd known I was standing there, strangely bewildered by his owning a car – something everybody does these days – and yet still managed to play an oblivious expression on his face.

I simply hmphed my head away, but before I did, I could have sworn I saw the brilliance of his smile. But somehow, this time, it was almost… almost… warm.

I slapped my head down hard against my pillow and grasped for the other one to hug it tightly at my chest. I sighed as I closed my eyes restlessly. Here within the confines of my privacy was exactly where I am most troubled and especially not alone. My thoughts spiraled through me, seeming to have claimed more than my mind but also my veins and lungs, and I struggled to keep it from my heart as well. I should be used to this, this throbbing motion of my past, replaying involuntarily across my head. I knew a part of me was because I let go before I was ready—No, he let me go. And he let me go way before I was ready – he let me go while I still lived, and he, as well. With a sudden gasp, I shook those thoughts away, feeling the tears cloud my eyes, irritating the lower creases beneath my eyes. I blinked them away helplessly.

I quickly racked my brain for a new subject. This triggered some sort of déjà vu, as though I've been through this not long ago. And then I remembered this morning with Callum. "Not for me," he'd said, "For you." What did that mean? After, he'd simply poked my forehead gently with a light smile and turned to leave. Though I struggled to keep up, I was no match for his graceful agility and that alone kept me from shouting across the hall for him – as if I didn't look stupid enough. I stuffed the pillow against my face to reduce the volume of what I felt coming.

"Ugh! Stupid, not-making-sense, new-kid weirdo!" Only I'd meant it to sound more understandable instead of the muffled, ancient language it had turned out to be under my pillow.

I inhaled deeply and then exhaled to calm myself. I slowly slid the pillow to my chest and rested my forearm against my forehead, my eyes settled on the ceiling. For a while, I managed to distract my disarray of thoughts by blinking continuously up at my ceiling light before focusing my eyes on the wall, trying to catch the illusionary dots that seem to appear at random intervals.

"Bella!"

I blinked before recognizing the sound of my own name.

"Yes, dad?" I called back.

"Jessica's on the phone downstairs!"

"Alright, I'm coming," I called again as I scrambled out of my bed, relieved to have found an opening from my solitary void.

"So," she snickered on the phone. She made it sound as though that single word completed, emphasized, and marked the importance of her entire objective.

"No, I don't like him," I insisted plainly.

"Well, he likes you. I can so tell, and I think it's cute. He's cute!"

"Yes, I know—"

"Then the problem is—?"

I chuckled. "That I don't like him."

"Oh, Bells, give it time. At least give it time."

I restrained from telling her that I can't really give time to things at once… for her and my own benefit.

"Okay," I gave in, still not exactly sure whether I meant it or not.

She sounded enthused. "I invited him tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? What's—Oh, no, Jess, you didn't!"

"Why not? He's kind of one of us now. Let's make him feel welcome. Just think of it as that," she cooed.

I felt my hands tense around the receiver.

"Besides," she continued. I braced myself for what I knew was coming. "You have no date." She didn't need to make it so straightforward…

"Jacob will be there," I reasoned.

"Yes, but he's no date. Or…?"

"Or nothing. You're right, he isn't, but he's personally a lovely and perfectly good excuse for avoiding the whole 'third wheel' thing."

"That won't do it for him," she giggled, "And you know that."

And boy, was she right. Jacob never lets me forget about his feelings. I smiled at the thought of him. He's truly my best friend, perhaps even exceeding Jessica. To summarize all he was to me and all he's done for me while Jessica – especially Jessica – was waiting for my response on the phone would mean war tomorrow at school. He has done so much… and I'll never forget it.

"Yes, I do, and all the more reason Callum shouldn't go. Imagine the calamity of it if Jacob gets the wrong idea."

"Eh, well, it's kind of too late. I'm sure nothing too bad will happen."

"Nothing too bad?" I picked up.

"Well, gotta go," she spoke so fast, it all came out sounding like one word. Before I could hold the conniving fiend, she'd hung up.

I could only sigh.

The next day after school, everyone shuffled and filed along the parking lot.

"Okay, transportation orders," Mike joked. "First of all, who needs a ride? I can take four, at least."

"Angela and I do," Ben answered.

"I have a ride and I can't just leave it out here, so I'll go on my own unless someone wants to ride with me," Callum offered.

"I'm good," Tyler said, "I got my own wheels with me, too. Lauren, you need a ride?"

She looked thrilled – more than thrilled – that he'd asked her. "Yes," she almost squeaked.

Everyone looked my way then. "Well, I have my truck."

"How about we drop it off at your place," Callum suggested and everyone looked at him, "And you can ride with me? I don't know the way around, anyway."

"She'll take it," Jessica said. I gave her a declaring glare. She only shrugged, smiling it off apologetically but unyielding.

"Great. That saved us one ride up, at least," Callum smiled. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No, I guess not… anymore," I whispered the last word to myself.

"How about Jacob?" Angela inquired.

"He said he'll meet us up there. He's coming down from La Push."

"Well, then," Mike climaxed, "Let's do this! We'll meet you there, okay, Callum? You guys be careful."

"No problem. Thanks, man," Callum simply smiled.

I focused my eyes on the road, trying to ignore the car behind me – or more specifically, the man behind the wheel of the car behind me. When I did sneak a peek at him through my side mirror, he looked as though he was content in swaying his body to the beat of what I he might be listening to his radio. I've learned from Mike and Tyler's excitement that Callum's car was an Audi R8, whatever that was. Whatever it was, though, looked expensive, like him. I repressed my chuckle as he spotted me, both of us blushing at first – myself, because he caught me looking at him and him, because I'm guessing I caught him dancing, if you'd call that dancing – and then looking away. And I thought he was all composed and stuff… Ha. For some reason, the thought that he wasn't completely, kind of comforted me. Kind of. For some reason.

I rounded the corner to my street and easily parked my truck on my driveway. He parked along the sideway and rolled down the window. I'm guessing he was trying to take a better look at my historic home because he eyed it from roof to windows to doors to the poor and dying grass that made up all of Charlie's grand front yard. I grimaced at his observation.

"Just because you're bright and shiny doesn't mean you can look down on whatever's ramshackle," I blurted as I came reluctantly by his car.

He smiled as he leaned across the passenger seat and opened the door for me.

"No, it's quite nice," He murmured. It was surprising to hear the thoughtfulness in his voice, almost as though he didn't mean for me to hear that. I brushed the pointless thought aside easily.

"I never even bothered to ask," he said casually on our way to our destination, tracked by my directions, "Where are we going?"

"You mean, Jessica didn't tell you?"

He smiled, and I took it to mean that that was obviously the case. I rolled my eyes.

"Port Angeles. We're all just having some dinner, walking around, the works."

He chuckled. "Where from here?"

"Enter one-ten and exit through Sunpress Valley."

He swerved the car as gracefully as he walked and talked and stood and laughed and smiled. The car was at constant pace, neither fast nor slow, but it somehow felt cool. He had the heater on lightly, and I guessed it was for my benefit, seeing as he looked completely collected whereas I was shivering all over the place. Besides, he'd only turned it on once I got in his car at my house. Inside his car was a fresh, new aroma. It smelled of fine, organic fruits or flowers – or both. It was nothing I'd ever smelled before. It calmed me down immediately and I rested my head against his dark grey, leather head post. His car was neat, very clean. The seats were smooth leather and his wheel was covered with a deep red fabric. The windows were intensely tinted. It was almost impossible to see outside.

"Something wrong?" He surprised me, shifting me out of my calm thoughts immediately.

"No, actually," I muttered.

He smiled. "No, actually, as in… Actually, it's something good?"

"You're bold, aren't you." It was more a fact that a question.

He chuckled. "Bella, you're the one who's bold. Will you ever give me a break?"

"Well, since you've so politely neglected a break for me, I thought wouldn't be something you'd prefer for yourself, either."

"So I gave you the wrong—"

"Horrid."

He sighed. "Horrid – geez – first impression. What might I do to properly redeem myself in your standards?"

This got me. "Your statement – explain it."

"Statement?" He sounded curious enough.

"What should I need time for?"

"Oh, that."

"Yup."

He glanced at me briefly, a smile plastered softly on his face. I struggled to keep my cheeks in check of pinkish runaways.

"From whatever's bothering you."

That wasn't what I was expecting – not that I was expecting anything in particular, but that wouldn't have been a guess at all.

"What do you mean?"

"You're so enclosed. You're fine with your friends, but one look away and you're a completely different person."

"You're saying I'm a fluke?"

"No, but—"

"Besides, how would you know that? When you said that, it's only been a period since we met, and I doubt you could figure me out at such a short time, even given the two days you've been here."

"Ah, but it seems I've hit a nerve. Even in class, the way your foreheads creased and your eyebrows met, and all the sleepless nights—"

"Now how would you know that? IF that was the case?" I was getting frustrated with his half-stories.

"Come on, now. You're so tired. Oh, but I guess full nights of sleep amount to an exhausted day at school, right?"

I grimaced. "Don't think you know me."

"No," he said simply, and then he gazed at me – almost intently, almost friendly, almost softly. "I'm hoping that I will."

I didn't talk after that, and neither did he. What could I say? I didn't want him to know me, anything about me. In fear that he might find something I didn't want to know about myself, perhaps. In fear that he might find something at all when I so hated his guts, perhaps. In fear I might end up letting him… definitely.

hi again. :) well, that's chapter 2! and chapter 3 will be up soon. i'm hoping you guys are enjoying reading it as much as i am, writing it. but remember, this is still an edward/bella pairing. a triangle, my favorite. :)