AN: I just got back from a violin lesson, and was kind of hyped to write. And I had reviews, which totally made my day! Thanks guys, you rock!

Flyers about the upcoming talent show were plastered across the wall all over the school. Everyone's lips were buzzing with the juvenile little thing, and it was, quite frankly, extremely irritating. Everyone seemed to jump at the chance to get up on a stage in front of the whole school and publicly humiliate themselves.

And I was to be a part of this inane, childish, ridiculous thing. Along with Edward Cullen. Unless, of course, one of us died in the process of rehearsing. I would not be too surprised, actually, if that were to happen. From what I can tell, we don't have much in common.

It was in Spanish that I found out that I was to take part in this horrifying experience. Apparently, Senora Vazquez had bullied Edward into playing the piano, and would 'be simply delighted' if I would play a duet with him. She said that a 'good, accomplished and mature violinist would complement his distinguished sound' and we were 'two charming individuals'.

I find it incumbent upon myself to point out that I am the only person in Forks who plays the violin, and in my humble opinion, I don't play all that well. I had a violin teacher once…but she left Forks when she had the chance, so I've just sort of been teaching myself.

The Senora asked me to stay after school, so that Edward and I could talk about which piece to play and fine tune the logistics of everything.

I was sitting slumped in a desk with my face smushed all in my hand, looking very attractive, I'm sure, when Edward walked in, in all his god-like glory. He didn't sit, and he glowered at me. I tried my hardest to glower back, but I'm not entirely sure I succeeded.

"Please, Edward," Vazquez gestured, "won't you sit down?" Edward glared once more at me before turning to the teacher.

"I'd rather stand, thanks." She started back.

"Oh, right. Well," she sat on the edge of her desk, like she did before she went off on some long spiel about something or other. She leaned her head back and studied the ceiling, no doubt thinking she looked poetic or something. "I was thinking…something beautiful, something romantic to wake the soul of each Forkian out there. Something…something…passionate. What were you thinking of doing?"

"Liszt," Edward said immediately.

We both looked at him: she because she probably had no idea who he was, but I because that was so self centered it wasn't even funny.

"Liszt?" I asked incredulously, "And where, pray tell, does violin fit into playing Liszt for God's sake?"

He looked at me in surprise, but before he could respond I turned to Senora Vazquez. "Tchaikovsky."

She frowned. "Schubert," Edward said.

"Korsakoff," I yelled, my temper rising.

"NO!" We looked in surprise to Senora Vazquez, who was a tad red in the face. "Vivaldi."

I looked at Edward and we both groaned. Well, not groaned, so much as made little faces of disgust.

The Senora's nostrils flared. "Have either of you something against Vivaldi?"

Edward paused, but I spoke first. "Not something against him, per se, its just…you said you wanted something passionate, and-"

She stood, towering above us, well, just me, because I was the only one sitting. "You will play a Vivaldi piece, and it will be flawless. You may leave now. I will contact you about rehearsals during class."

I got my bag and scurried out of the room. I was about halfway down the hall when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Edward. He blew his hair out of his eyes.

"Do you know what you want to play?" I did actually. I had first played it when I was about…ten, but had recently perfected it.

"The A Minor concerto." To my surprise he grinned.

"What a coincidence. That was what I was going to suggest we play." I turned and scoffed.

"Suggest. More like demand." I could hear his footsteps as he ran to catch up with me again.

"Can we just leave that behind, and decide when to practice?" I sighed, perfectly willing to leave that heated little argument from the Spanish classroom well behind.

"Sure. My house or yours?"

He looked over at me and raised a bronze brow. "Do you have a piano at your house?"

"Oh." I blushed. "I didn't think of that. Your house it is then. What days?"

We were in the parking lot, and our cars were two of the few left. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn that as we neared his car he almost imperceptibly pushed himself between me and his car.

"Um…" He looked at a point past my ear, "we have two weeks until the show. What are you doing today?"

I thought and could absolutely not remember. "Uh-Oh!" I looked in my bag, flipping through the worksheets and books I brought.

"Um, I have Spanish, that thing on modals; English, oh, no, I just brought the book home to look through it; I have to study for the badminton test…er, that shouldn't take too long…um. Oh. That's it," I said, looking up brightly.

"Well," he sighed heavily, "if you're quite sure that's it, then, could you come over today?"

I blanked again. Note to self: if you would like to remain coherent, remember to not look Edward in the eyes.

"Uh-" I said again, "sure. I have to go get my violin from home, though, and I'll need directions."

He nodded and pulled out a piece of paper. "I'll draw a map." I stood next to him for the next five minutes while he struggled to draw a map that would successfully lead me to his house.

He finally handed it to me, and I couldn't help the small giggle that escaped. I looked up at him under my lashes. He glared down at me.

"What do you find so funny?"

I giggled again, not able to hold it in. "Well, you see, its just…this is such a bad map. It's not drawn proportionately at all, and-"

I caught his glare again. "Oh, whatever, I'll find it." My mood suddenly turned sour. I got in my car, slammed the door, and drove away, leaving Edward and his stupid, minuscule-ly scratched Volvo.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except some worn and battered sheet music.