Terminal Chapter Two, a twilight fanfic

Yes, I realize that this chapter is a day early. I decided that Mondays were a weird day to update, so I'm going to be doing it on Sundays.

Disclaimer - I do not own the Twilight Saga.

Chapter Two of Twenty-Nine

Bella's Point of View

Edward stayed as Mrs. Cope continued with entering me into the school's records. She printed my class schedule and highlighted the best ways for me to get to and from each one. She gave me my student ID card and with a warm smile, sent me off into the halls just as the bell dismissing everyone to third period rang. The meeting ran a little longer than we had expected, taking up the entire second period.

I stepped out into the crowded halls of Forks High School, but I didn't walk alone. Edward stood close beside me, his hand hovering above the small of my back. I looked up at him, my eyes squinting as the sunlight streaming in from a nearby window pierced them. He smiled sweetly down at me, one side of his lips curling up and the other staying down, making it a crooked grin. It was adorable.

"Your third class is in the room beside mine," he said softly, his eyes scanning the sidewalks that the students of the school were trudging on. "I'll show you the way."

He nudged me to walk beside him as we weaved our way through the massive group of teenagers. His eyes were locked on the forests that surrounded the school, and I didn't understand why. When I called out his name, claiming his attention, he grinned down at me again and assured me that everything was fine.

We walked down the halls that lined the classrooms in silence, his eyes now watching me as mine watched the floor beneath my feet, avoiding the stairs and glances that we were receiving. When we arrived outside the door to my English room, Edward leaned against the wall as his books dangled in his left arm. "Bella, I know this might sound a little . . ." he glanced away, licking his lips and swallowed twice. ". . . soon for me to ask you this, but . . . might you consider having lunch with me?"

"Today?" I muttered, and immediately regretted it. Now I sounded like an idiot.

"Today . . . or every day," he suggested. "I hope you don't find this odd, but I think you are the most beautiful girl that I've ever laid eyes on. I would like to get to know you better."

It was a cheesy line from a romance movie that he'd most likely seen with an ex-girlfriend – or maybe his current girlfriend, if he was a player – but I was willing to give it a shot. He was single until proven in-a-relationship. "Sounds like fun," I declared. "But . . . aren't you worried that you'll be ridiculed for it?"

His eyebrows crunched together. "For what?"

"I'm a sophomore." He stared. "You're a senior." He blinked. "You have to be, what, eighteen?"

"I'm seventeen," he corrected.

"I'm sixteen," I informed him, glad to be proving a point, but sad that my point was stacking my chances of ever dating him against me. Why had I said something? Why hadn't I just let it go instead of bringing this small detail to his attention?

But he didn't respond the way I thought he would have. He raised an eyebrow as the corners of his lips turned up. "Why would that bother me, Bella?"

I frowned. "Isn't that . . . I mean . . . well, I mean, you'll turn eighteen by the time this school year is over, and I've already aged for the duration of this year. I won't turn seventeen until September." I looked away from his steady gaze, horrified that I had made a fool of myself after assuming that the activities that are frowned upon in Arizona are the same here in Washington.

"People will talk," he agreed, and I mentally sighed, relieved. I hadn't assumed the incorrect. "Even though it's technically only a year age difference, I'll probably be called a cradle-robber and you'll be called . . . well, let's not start throwing around nicknames, but –"

"I'll see you at lunch, Edward."

He smiled. "I'll see you before then, Bella."

I blinked up at him, unable to break the eye contact that we were having. We would be separated soon, and that thought wasn't a pleasant one. I didn't him to leave – and that want is a scary one. I'd just met him . . . how could I have grown so . . . so . . . clingy . . . so soon? "What do you mean by that?"

"It's my job to show you to your classes," he said innocently. "I'll be standing right here when this class is over." He glanced above my head to the clock that was located on the boring gray walls with majorly cracked paint. "You'd better get in there. Class starts in approximately a minute and a half."

My eyes swept around the campus of the school. A few students lingered here and there, buying bottles of water from the multiple machines or shoving books in a locker.

"Bella?"

I blinked. "I'll see you . . . after class," I mumbled incoherently. "Um, bye." Everything was so different here – less strict. There was much more time in-between classes than there was allowed in Phoenix.

"Goodbye, Bella," Edward chuckled. "Have a good class. Go get an education."

"I'll try my best." It was extremely easy to joke with him. I wasn't nervous, I wasn't thinking about my responses. They were just flowing out of my mouth freely, and they were complete sentences. It was an odd thing for me to realize.

He turned on his heel, shifting his books into his other hand, and glided through the door of the classroom right next to mine. I missed him the moment he was out of my sight.

I blinked, shaking my head and walking into my own room. There was a teacher standing at the chalkboard, writing something about a novel that I remembered reading in the eighth grade. Perhaps schools in Washington were a little behind the ones in Phoenix. "Um, excuse me?"

The man at the board stopped writing and looked over at me over his shoulder, the piece of chalk in his hand staying where it was. "May I help you?"

"I'm Bella Swan," I said. Then I realized that Mrs. Cope had seemed to know me by my full name so I added, "Isabella." Was there another new student that he was expecting? Didn't he know that I would have to be given a textbook, an assigned seat, some kind of direction?

His eyes widened and the piece of chalk slid down the board with a loud screech that made me flinch. "New student? Impossible."

I frowned. It was entirely possible that my teacher was a moron. "Um . . ." What could I say to that?

"But you . . . it's not . . . what's the date?" he stammered, frantically glancing at the many textbooks and papers on his desk.

"It's the fifteenth of November," I said.

He blinked. "No, it isn't."

Was he serious? "Um, yes. Yes, it is."

His eyes searched frantically around the room. "Newton!" he called to a boy in the third row of desks. "What's the date?"

The boy – Newton – repeated the same date that I had.

"No, it can't be!"

This man had to be insane. "Um, Sir, do I need a textbook or –"

"Just sit in the desk in the back corner, take this book –" he shoved a copy of Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird in my hands "– and follow along as best you can, okay? I'm big on class participation points, so the sooner you can start asking and answering questions, the better. No cell phones, no gum – same rules as all the other teachers have told you, I'm sure?"

I shrugged. "This is the first class I've attended today."

"Of course it is," he mumbled, almost to himself, turning back to the board. "Hurry up, now, take your seat, I'm starting class."

I turned, slightly confused, and trudged my way to the back of the room to take my seat. There was a blonde girl next to me, staring at me, all smiles. "Hi, there!" she whispered when I sat down. She glanced up at the teacher who had yet to tell me his name – I would have to look it up on my schedule – and leaned closer when she saw that he wasn't looking at the class. "I'm Melissa. Melissa Grant. It's so nice to meet you! Everyone's just been so excited – this school hasn't seen a new student since . . . the nineteenth century! Not including the freshmen, of course, because it's a small town and everyone knows everyone even thought this is the high school and they were previously in the junior high down the road, but –"

"I'm Bella," I introduced myself, looking away from her to read what the teacher had written. I was worried that if I didn't interrupt her soon, she would have never stopped talking. "Hey, what's this teacher's name?"

"So everyone's just so – oh, he's Mr. Cahlahan – excited to meet you, I bet you'll have a great time making all kinds of new friends!"

Melissa Grant: too happy.

"Um, yeah, but listen . . . I gotta pay attention so I can catch up," I lied. I'd already read this book, but my right ear was about to start bleeding. "So –"

"What lunch are you in?" she demanded, smiling sweetly.

"What?"

"Lunch," she emphasized. "Are you in first lunch? Second? Third?"

"Um . . . D, all of the above?"

"Lemme see your schedule," she insisted, reaching her hand across the small isle between us and wiggling her fingers. Her pencil dropped to the floor, but she didn't seem to notice. She studied the slip of paper and grinned. Oh, God, please tell me she isn't –

"We're in the same lunch!" she whispered. "I'll find you, and we'll talk some more, and I'll introduce you to my friends!"

I remembered Edward. "Um . . . I already promised someone that I'd spend lunch with them."

Her face fell. "Who?"

I swallowed. "Um . . . E-Edward Cullen."

Her eyes widened, but she said nothing as Mr. Cahlahan called her name. "How about you, Miss Grant? Do you know?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, what was the question?" Her face was completely red, and I fought back a smile.

"The main character, Miss Grant," he said. "What do you think she was thinking while stumbling around in the dark, hearing the sounds of a fight without being able to see it?"

I didn't listen to her answer; I zoned out after that.

…

Edward was exactly where he had told me he would be after the bell rang to dismiss me from English class. I was awkwardly balancing my backpack on my left shoulder and the multiple packets that Mr. Cahlahan had shoved at me as I passed him in my arms. Melissa had resumed talking my ear off, only now she was on my left side, giving my right ear a break.

"It's really too bad that English is the only class we have together, isn't it?" she said. "I mean, we can still be best friends and all, but it'll be a lot harder for us to get to know each other. We'll have to get together after school, and –"

I hadn't been watching her, but looking at the many kids wandering around the halls, waiting for a chance to safely weave my way through them to the other side so that I could get to Edward. So when she stopped talking abruptly, I glanced over at her and followed her gaze. "What's the matter?" "Edward Cullen," she said, her voice dropping from talking loudly to a soft whisper, "is staring right at you. I think he's waiting for you . . . that's so weird!" She glanced at me. "Oh, I didn't mean – it's not that you aren't pretty, because you so are, but it's just that Edward doesn't . . . show interest in anyone."

"Meaning?"

"He doesn't date." The voice didn't belong to Melissa. I turned to see a short girl with straight brown hair standing next to me. She was carrying about five textbooks and a few notebooks, and her eyes were trained on a small touch-screen cellphone. She looked up at me, but didn't smile. "Mel, you know this girl?"

"I sure do," she responded, but the girl cut her off before she could say another word.

"I can never tell, ya know?" she said to me, her eyes drifting back to her thumbs as they tapped rapidly on the phone's screen. "She just talks to everyone. Friendly, but a little too friendly, I think. She knows this –" she looked at Melissa – "but she doesn't care. You just like to make friends, don't ya, Mel?"

Melissa nodded, and smiled at me.

"I'm Jessica," the brown-haired girl said, but didn't offer a last name or look up from her phone. "Sorry if she bothered you."

"Bella's my friend," Melissa protested.

"Bella?" Melissa had claimed Jessica's attention again. "Swan? The new girl? Huh," she muttered. "Why didn't I realize it? No wonder you didn't look familiar. Anyway, what's this about Edward Cullen?"

"He wants to sit with Bella at lunch today," Melissa giggled.

My eyes flashed to where Edward was standing, waiting for me. The clock was ticking, and I knew that we'd have to get to class soon. I didn't want to make him late, but he seemed perfectly content leaning against a locker, gazing at the forest beside the school out a window. "Look, um, I should probably –"

Apparently, Jessica liked to interrupt people. "Don't get your heart set on him, Swan. He won't stick around, and if he does, you won't be able to trust him. C'mon, Mel. We're gonna be late."

He won't hang around and he's not reliable. Did Edward have a history of 'loving and leaving' his girlfriends? Did he like to have multiple girlfriends at once? Or did he not like to give the title 'girlfriend' out at all?

I had no time to think on that fact right now. Edward was still waiting to show me to my next class, and the time between classes was dwindling. I crossed the hall and met Edward's eyes. "Sorry," I muttered. "Apparently I made some new . . . friends."

He smiled. "I noticed. But Jessica Stanley isn't exactly the best friend that you could have."

I looked at the sidewalk beneath my feet as he pushed away from the lockers, shifted his books once again to his opposite arm, and began to walk in the direction of my next class – Geometry with Mr. Baker in room two hundred twenty-five. "Why not? She seems like a nice girl to me." That was a lie, but maybe he would explain Jessica's warning without me having to ask. Perhaps she was just a heartbroken ex-girlfriend trying to keep him from having happiness.

"She's . . ." he paused. "How do I say this while remaining a gentleman? She . . . she likes to . . . create drama, start rumors. Much of what she says can't be believed."

"Well, that makes me feel better," I blurted without thinking. Perhaps my ability to speak freely with Edward wasn't as good of a talent as I had originally thought. Now he would ask me what she had said about him.

"Ah," he murmured. "She probably told you that I'm not to be trusted, that I'm not worth your time."

Or he would already know. "Um, yeah. How did you know that?"

He squinted, hesitating. I'd caught him by surprise. Was he hesitating because she was not only repeating her story to everyone, but it was also true? Or was it something else entirely? He looked as if he'd revealed a secret he didn't want me to know, but I didn't get it. He shifted his books to his other hand and back again before saying, "She says the same thing to everyone. She told my brother, Jasper, the same story once – proof that she's not very brilliant. Obviously he would know what was true and what was false."

"But it's nice to know it's not true, just the same. I mean, it's nice to have you confirm that she's usually not truthful. I didn't believe her anyway." That might have been a slight lie. I'd been conflicted.

"Well, some things might be correct," he countered.

My stomach dropped a little. "T-that's not important," I stuttered. "I don't . . . I'm not big on gossip."

He stopped walking momentarily. "You are a horrible liar, Bella."

I looked up to his topaz eyes, stunned. "That was a bold statement."

His eyebrows shot up. "My apologies."

We walked in silence for a few moments, passing the library, the nurse's office, and the rooms with numbers in the hundreds. Finally, when we turned a corner and I saw the number two hundred twenty-one on top of a door, followed by two hundred twenty-two above the door next to it, and so on. It wasn't until I was ready to enter my classroom that Edward cleared his throat. "I hope that what Jessica has said didn't change your mind about lunch."

I shook my head. "She only said that you can't be . . . trusted. Just like you assumed."

"Oh."

Oh? What did that mean? "Oh?" I wanted him to deny it so badly, because he'd been right; I had lied earlier when I said gossip wasn't important. I wasn't good at choosing between fact and fiction.

"Well," he shrugged. "See? Now, that's why you must be careful about what you believe when it comes out of her mouth. Sometimes what she says is entirely false."

Relief flooded though me, letting me breath normally once again. "It's nice to know that that was a false accusation," I said.
"Actually, what she said this time was entirely true," he said lightly. "I'll see you after class, Bella."

Author's Note:

My favorite part of this chapter is:

"So everyone's just so – oh, he's Mr. Cahlahan – excited to meet you, I bet you'll have a great time making all kinds of new friends!"

Melissa Grant: too happy.

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Thanks for reading. Tune in again next week.