AN: Responses have been great so far. Thank you all for your support.
Edward.
"Edward Masen, get up!" called my mother from downstairs. I could hear pots and pans being clanked about, probably on purpose to wake me up.
"Orrrrrite!" I yelled out; my words a complete slur. My voice was hoarse and uncontrolled as though I was hungover. Funnily enough, I was. I'd passed out last night shortly after finishing a standard sized bottle of whisky. I'd consumed it all straight; how whisky was intended to be drank, in my honest opinion. My mother had no idea of my escapades, and it was how I wanted things to remain. I realized that she probably had inklings towards my nightly alcohol abuse, but she refused to accept it. Things were easier the way they had been for the past couple of months. We took care of each other without asking questions. If I would arrive home from school and find her passed out on the couch, I would pass it off as fatigue. Likewise, if she would stumble upon a suspicious-looking cigarette in my room, she would convince herself that it was purely tobacco and nothing more.
"Now, Edward, I mean it." My mother was closer now, her voice travelling easily through the thin walls of our dilapidated home. While her words were stern, I could tell easily that she was having a good morning. I could feel the grin on her face.
"Wow, very intimidating, Mom" I spoke back, chuckling to myself while attempting to make myself appear slightly more presentable. I licked my hands and ran them quickly through my dishevelled hair, sprayed air freshener around my body and into my mouth. I swore at the acidic taste and pulled on clothes that had been lying around on my bedroom floor. Eventually, I stumbled to my door and pulled it open eagerly, excited to find my mother smiling sincerely for the first time in weeks.
"Good morning, Edward" she beamed, pulling me closer into a loving hug. The gesture brought tears to my eyes, but I hid them well- there was no way I would bring my mother down when she was having such a happy day.
"G'morning" I said lazily, following her retreating form down the rickety staircase to the kitchen. As I did, the smell of bacon and eggs slapped me in the face. My stomach replied in a willing rumble. My mother laughed a high-pitched, cheery laugh and I joined in. "I could do with a pig or two" I said, rushing to the round table stationed just near the stovetop, rubbing my stomach in anticipation. My mother, carrying two heavily-served plates laden with bacon, eggs, sausages and toast, sat down opposite me and served breakfast. I began eating immediately, finishing the whole plate off within minutes. "Perfect hangover cure" I said aloud having not considered the company I was in.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that" my mother said cheerily, obviously on too much of a high for my apparent alcoholism to depress her further. "However, you should get ready" she suggested, stabbing a sausage with her fork, "You don't want to be late. You have that calculus test today, don't you?"
"First period" I assured her, "I'm looking forward to it."
"There's no need to be so sarcastic" she said with a smirk as I left the table to prepare myself for public view. Really, I didn't care what I looked like, but I wanted to impress my mother today, so I made an actual effort to look mildly respectable. I studied myself in the small, dusty mirror of the bathroom. It was a small room, so small you could barely take a step without bumping into the shower screen doors or the edge of the basin. The wallpaper had always been something I hated in the bathroom, and in the house itself. It was severely outdated and faded. Strips had been torn off from various drunken fights and moody arguments where the house had taken most of my mother's anger. Most.
With a sigh, I moved my eyes back to the rude-looking boy staring at me from inside the mirror. He had dark red bags under his green, watery eyes. I instinctively moved my hands to mess up my hair, and pulled out a few long, bronze strands in the process. This was not the first time something like this had happened. I had accepted that it was a side effect to my drug and alcohol abuse, and frequent malnourishment. There would be numerous days passing where I would not eat a single thing, and it was taking its toll on my body.
I'd not always been so self-destructive and disrespectful. I remembered a time when I was sincerely happy; when it seemed like nothing in the world could ever drag me down to a level of suicidal depression. But when my father died, five months ago, I certainly changed for the worse.
My father's name was Edward Senior Cullen. He was a rising star in the wondrous world of banking. We lived together- my mother, my father and I- in a small town named Forks in Washington. Admittedly, I never felt terribly close to my father, but that didn't make an ounce of difference when he died. I still loved him. He was still a role model to me, and both my mother and I took it very hard when he left us. It had been completely unexpected; I'd come home from school to find Mom in a state of unrelenting hysteria. When I found out why, I'd joined her.
I didn't know what had gone wrong with me, but something had, and I didn't see a way to fix it. So I lived the lonely, endearing life of a teenage cynic and alcoholic. And to be completely honest, it wasn't much of a fucking life at all. But I kept on, for whatever reason I was unsure, apart from the obvious need to keep my mother pleased.
After a very short, very cold shower, I dressed in a simple ensemble of jeans and a sweatshirt. It was inconceivably hot outside, so I reconsidered, pulling off the sweatshirt and stuffing it into my shabby backpack. Honestly, I could not remember the last time I wore a sweatshirt outside of the house. I'd grown so used to the cold weather of Forks that moving to a new state had definitely resulted in a shock to my system. I was affected by the heat far too easily; often causing me to whine and pout whenever I woke up in the morning with a thick sheen of sweat upon my face. I hated the warmth and dryness of Phoenix- our city of choice- but my mother loved it, so I rarely complained aloud.
Quickly examining myself one last time before retreating downstairs, I came to the conclusion that I looked slightly homeless. My stubble was thick and unkempt, likewise was my hair. My clothes were faded and sporting stains that my mother just could not get out. I could have bought new clothes, sure, but our scarce money could be used on more important things.
"Ready?" asked Mom, who was hovering over a recipe book and writing down what I assumed to be a shopping list.
"You're taking me?" I asked, sounding a little surprised. She waved her list at me and started to the front door.
"Shopping. I need to get all the fresh stuff before it's gone. I can drop you off on the way."
I shrugged and followed her out of the door, slipping on my sneakers in the process. We got into her car, which would have been embarrassing to drive around in if I cared about such superficial things. It was a small Ford that squeaked and groaned when driven, and I had to grind my teeth when the brakes were laid on. The screeching was almost unbearable.
We stopped by a coffee shop on the way to Phoenix Union- the school I attended- to purchase two extra large, extra strong lattes. We had extra time due to her speeding down residential roads, so we sat under umbrellas and drank our coffees timidly.
"We best get going" she suggested, eyeing her watch with a frown, "Even though I'd prefer to stay here all day with you."
I smiled, fiddling with the cardboard coffee container absentmindedly as I admired the delicate patterns covering it. "We probably should go. I don't think I can afford to be late for school much longer." Mom frowned more, and pulled me swiftly to her car. It wasn't as if I could help being late to school so frequently; on my mother's bad days, she often forced me to walk the hour-long trek to Phoenix Union. It was unfair and cruel of her, but there was nothing either of us could do about it. She had problems, she knew it, but even medication could do her no help. So we plainly accepted the fact that she was troubled, and got on with our lives.
Upon arriving at Phoenix Union, Mom hurried me out of the car with worry all over her face. "It's fine, Mom, I'm here now. I'm not going to be late" I assured her.
"Just hurry! I don't want you to be in more trouble" she said with a barely audible sigh. I reassured her with a bright smile and stepped out of the car lazily. She pushed me forward with her hand, and I whirled around to see her smiling cheekily at me. I stumbled backwards as she pushed me again, and laughed.
"Grow up" I joked as she erupted into a fit of giggles. "And don't take advantage of my awkward footing ever again." We'd established long ago that both she and I were incredibly awkward beings. Having stumbled into various walls and doorframes, tripping over nothing and falling off chairs, it was near impossible not to notice.
"Have a good day, sweetie" was her only reply as I slammed the car door and she drove away, her face painted with elation. I smiled to myself, wondering how on Earth I could have ever wished for a new mother, and made my way to the front building that was host to my locker.
I had to urge myself to take each step along the way, as I loathed Phoenix Union. The school had been utter Hell for me since I arrived, and the students had barely taken notice of me. The only ones that had, had only drawn attention to me by inflicting pain. It was common of me to arrive home with a black eye, or bruised ribs. I took it in my stride, though, never running away from a good fight. Every now and then I managed to deal a few punches of my own, which was an achievement, as it was usually three-on-one.
Once I appeared in front of my locker, I noticed that it had once again been vandalized. I groaned and stepped back so I could properly read the words etched in by a key.
'Die, faggot.'
Death was a sore subject for me, understandably, and I moved forward swiftly to bring my hands down on the harsh metal of my locker door. I continued pelting my balled fists against it until I felt blood trickling down my right arm. Halting my beatings, I inspected my right fist; there was a deep cut along my smallest finger, obviously having connected with the hinges. I cursed loudly and wretched open the door violently, grabbing my biology text book so I could make my way unwillingly to class.
Congratulations, Phoenix Union, I thought to myself bitterly, you made my morning.
Biology was a pile of dog shit- there was no other way to explain it. The teacher, Mr. Jerry, had a deep, boring voice that nearly drew me to sleep every single class. He always wore a suit to school; for what reason? I had no idea. He looked ridiculous, and I often felt like walking up to him and shouting at him that he had nobody to impress because nobody paid attention to his boring lectures, anyway. However, I never did shout at him. I didn't see why yet another person had to be utterly miserable at this school.
That morning he spent the whole time giving a lecture on apoptosis. I had the feeling that my own cells would be eagerly programming their own deaths if I had to sit through one more moment of the class, when the bell for second period rang.
I was glad to escape.
Three more dull classes and then the bell sounded for lunch. I put my books into my locker, once again being overcome by anger upon seeing my ruined locker door, and began my walk to the cafeteria with my iPod in hand. Thankfully, I had a small amount of change in my front pocket. I could most likely afford a decent meal, but I was not particularly hungry. I'd probably buy just a Pepsi, like always.
I continued shuffling down the hall with absolutely no motivation whatsoever, until I saw her. Initially, I thought she was just another dumb slut getting way past second base with her jock boyfriend during school hours, but upon closer inspection I realized that she was trying to fight off the great oaf who was harassing her. Her face was hidden by the oaf's shoulders, but I could feel the anxiety emanating off of her. The rest of the students just walked past, as if it were no big deal. She was distraught and afraid and so…helpless. My stomach lurched in anger and sympathy, and I did something ridiculously out of character for an introvert like myself.
I shoved my iPod in my pocket and grabbed onto the back of the oaf's jumper sternly. With one, swift movement I pulled him off of the girl and whirled him around. His face was a little red, like she had tried to slap him. His expression turned from surprised to annoyed in seconds, and he snarled at me.
"Nothing to see here, you shit. Walk away."
"Get fucked" I spat at him, and reared my right fist back. He was too slow to see it coming. I drove my fist forward with built up energy and anger, and it connected with his perfectly sculptured nose- now a bloody mess. I laughed shrilly and followed through with another; and another; and another. It was a wonder, truthfully, that he didn't fight back. But I was glad, since he was a great deal taller than me and looked like he weighed twice as much. What I was doing to him in multiple blows, he could probably manage in one or two.
Finally, I dropped him onto the floor and kicked his trembling body aside. It was obvious that he was in a great deal of pain; I'd no doubt dealt him a broken nose and quite a few cuts and bruises. A strange sense of pride rushed through me, and I smiled down at his twisted features.
"You…little…prick" he gasped out as he lay on the floor soaked in blood.
"That's rich" I said, amused, as people gathered around us to see what all of the yelling and fuss had been about. I knew I was in for a suspension, but it had indeed been worth it. For once, I was not the one cowering on the floor. I'd dealt the pain, and it felt good.
The girl he had been harassing let out a whimper and stared at me with wide eyes, and I was momentarily taken aback. They were immaculate eyes; brown, sparkly and deep, as if they held each and every moment she had lived through. It was then that I took in the rest of her- she was beautiful; her ivory skin shone in the sunlight jutting in through the high windows, creating an almost transparent effect. She had dark brown, wavy hair. It curled all the way down to her cute little hips. It was incredibly long and I instantly wanted to touch it, yet I held back for her sake.
"Are you okay?" I managed to ask. Wow, I thought, You're going soft, Edward. She nodded through delicate trembles and abruptly ran off without as much as a 'thank you'. I watched her tiny frame escape through the doors leading outside into the blistering heat, and frowned.
Last time I help anybody, I thought bitterly, strolling off to go buy my Pepsi. I left the oaf on the ground, withering in pain. I knew that, eventually, a teacher would approach me and deal with me, but first I had to intake some carbohydrates and chill the hell out.
Bella.
Of all the days I have spent at school, I have never had such a terrifying one. Even when I asked Taylor Carr to escort me to the summer dance, having him laugh in my face in front of the whole freshman year; that was upsetting. This was traumatizing. I didn't even know him- he smelled of sweat and cheap cologne. His bulky figure told me that he was obviously a football player; they were always the obnoxious ones.
I'd been minding my own business, making my way to get some lunch after a perfectly fine morning of classes that I surprisingly didn't hate, and he grabbed my arm. He grabbed my arm. Alarm bells were sounding in my head, considering that nobody grabbed my arm. Ever. Nobody even acknowledged me. He quickly pushed me against a row of lockers and grinned at me playfully. It was as if he actually thought I wanted to be that close to his disgusting smell. I almost gagged.
"What's your name, pretty?" he asked with a deep voice. I cringed under his forever tightening grasp, and made the best effort I could to look furious.
"Bella Swan, and I don't want to know yours. Get off me" I growled. He didn't back away, instead running a dinner-plate sized hand down my ribs. I shuddered.
"Playing hard to get?" he teased.
"No" I replied curtly, "Get off me. Now" I hissed, planting my palm on his cheek in a feeble attempt of a slap. It seemingly did nothing to defer him. If anything, it spurred him on. He threw his head back in roaring laughter, and I used his momentary lack of focus to attempt an escape. I wiggled out of his grasp and tried to leap away from him, but I was pulled back with such a force that I swore aloud. My arm felt like it had been ripped apart, and I began to sob as he pulled me into his gigantic chest.
"Don't be like that, babe" he said, his tone now becoming frustrated. Fear gripped me as I finally began to understand that he was not going to leave me alone until he got what he wanted.
"Please, just let…"
I didn't get to finish my sentence. He moved his hands up my t-shirt and began placing rough kisses on my chin. I used all of my strength to move my hands and slap him again. He didn't seem hurt at all. I rubbed my hands and whimpered as he kept on kissing me and touching me. I tried calling out, but nobody cared or noticed. It was possible that they didn't hear me; but I wouldn't have counted on it. I had no friends, and everybody at Phoenix Union was either a jock or a complete whore- people who liked to prey on plain girls such as myself.
I closed my eyes and began to fret even more; I was nothing more than a helpless little girl. I would just ride it out, I decided. He would go away soon. Just ride it out, I told myself.
At that exact moment, I felt his weight leave me. Initially I was unable to open my eyes- I was far too afraid.
"Nothing to see here. Walk away" I heard my attacker growl through clenched teeth.
"Get fucked." My eyes sprung open at the sound of the malicious voice before me. I'd never noticed him before at the school; not until now, at least. I took in his copper hair, bronze skin and startling green eyes as he eyed me with a momentary look of shock. I didn't understand what I'd done that was so horrifying to him, but I couldn't bring myself to worry about it, as he had followed through with his threatening tone by punching my attacker straight in the nose.
A sickening crunch almost deafened me as it happened, and then all I could smell was his blood. He'd dropped to the ground after receiving multiple blows, quivering like an injured animal, with blood continuously pouring down his face. Soon he was soaked in his own blood. I stood there in a state of disbelief until the nausea hit me. Blood was something I couldn't handle, and had never been able to. The thick, rusty smell of my attacker's blood was causing my throat to tighten. I could feel the sick pooling in my mouth, and I knew I had only moments before vomiting in front of the group of bystanders.
"You...little...prick" I watched him gasp through pain. Through my nausea, I had to smile. Sadistic of me or not, I enjoyed hearing his weeps of pain. The copper-haired boy had growled more insults at him, and then pulled me aside. Once I was free to breathe again, the nausea subsided slightly. Or so I had thought.
He let go of me and moved away once we were out of sight of my attacker, "Are you okay?" he asked in a voice of genuine concern. Truthfully, I was fine- a little shaken up, but fine. I opened my mouth to thank him, but then the nausea struck again. All I could manage was a thankful nod as I bolted down the hallway to the girl's bathroom. I was sick in the basin; completely indifferent to the group of girls applying makeup and gossiping. Upon seeing me vomit into the basin, their faces twisted into expressions of disgust and they began to mutter derogatory comments at me as they promptly stalked out of the bathroom.
Now alone, I turned on the tap and washed my face with water. I was no longer feeling sick, but weak. The water was bliss as I scooped it into my hands and lapped it up appreciatively. Within moments I was feeling myself again.
Deciding to fill my empty stomach, I quickly tied my hair back in case there was any leftover sick in it, and popped a mint strip into my mouth. The smell of vomit was soon vanquished, and I felt confident that there was no longer any evidence of my episode. I made my way hastily to the cafeteria, where I purchased and apple and a slice of plain cheese pizza. I was hungry, but still wary of eating too much.
I took my tray to an empty table adjacent to a vast window, and I sat down with a sigh. My body felt completely destroyed. I'd obviously drained myself of more energy than I'd suspected. I fiddled with my pizza whilst looking out into the main courtyard. It was mainly concrete and picnic tables, but there was a few tall trees that made it feel homely. Their wide leaves were a very bright green- I found them to be breathtakingly beautiful; especially with sun pouring through in between each leaf.
It was then that I noticed the boy sitting against the base of the tallest of the trees. His coppery, unruly hair was taking in the sunlight and producing a brilliant shine that made my hair look even duller than usual. I watched him tap his feet along to the music being produced by his iPod until recognition hit me. Without a second though, I picked up my food tray and sped outside to where he sat. When I was standing in front of him, he still hadn't noticed me, so I cleared my throat. Nothing. I could hear his music blaring from his earbuds- no wonder he hadn't noticed me.
Awkwardly, I knelt down directly in front of him. He started, as if he'd just experienced an electric shock. "Come to say thank you, have you?" he asked bitterly. I did nothing but smile at him as I set down my tray and arranged my legs into a more comfortable sitting position.
"Make yourself at home" he said, raising his dark eyebrows.
"Gladly" I said, taking a small bite out of my apple. He sniggered at the loud crunching sound that erupted. I felt my face grow hot. "W-well" I stuttered, trying to ignore the embarrassment that was suffocating me, "I do want to thank you. I mean...yes. Thank you."
"You have really long hair" he pointed out, disregarding my thank you. I frowned, not sure of what to say. I ended up saying nothing, and taking another bite of my apple. I was not embarrassed by the noise this time.
He chuckled at me and took a swig of his Pepsi. "Is that your lunch?" I asked. He nodded and swallowed, shooting me an absolutely stunning grin. I had to remind myself to take a breath.
"Not hungry. What about you? You've hardly touched that greasy slice of pizza."
"I lost my appetite" I said darkly, "This apple is pushing it, frankly. I thought I was up for eating, but apparently I'm not."
"Is it because of that bastard?" he asked angrily. I knew who he was talking about.
"No" I said quickly, "I'm okay about that. I think. It's more what you did to him" I added meekly. He almost choked on his Pepsi.
"What?" he asked; confused.
"Blood" I explained, "It nauseates me."
"You threw up?"
"Maybe" I said quietly. I waited for him to reply as I pretended that my apple was the most fascinating thing in the entire universe. I twisted it around in my hands until I saw him shaking in my peripheral vision. He was laughing. "It's far from amusing" I snapped.
"I'm sorry" he said, having immediately stopped laughing upon hearing the tone of my voice. "It's just...well, I think it's cute."
"What's your name?" I asked after a long pause, deciding to forgive him for his rudeness. "I don't think I have seen you before."
"Edward Masen" he said casually, "Can't say I've seen you, either. Trust me- I would've noticed somebody like you."
"Bella Swan" I said curtly. "Wait, what do you mean?" I asked, completely missing the hint. He stared at me; dumbfounded for a few moments until understanding set in. He was flirting with me. "Oh" I said softly, feeling that heat rise in my face once again.
"You're blushing. Again" he observed aloud with an arrogant smirk. I rolled my eyes and was about to strike back with a witty remark, but I was interrupted by the sound of the bell. Lunch period was over. Edward stood up, finishing off the rest of his drink, and held out a calloused hand to me. I eyed it warily, deciding whether I was up for my next class or not. Remembering that I had chemistry, I took his hand without delay and allowed him to pull me upright. He'd pulled me into his chest unknowingly, and it took us too long to pull apart. The heat that was reverberating between us was extraordinary.
"Well" Edward drawled, obviously determined to vanquish the awkwardness in the air around us, "What class do you have now, Bella Swan?"
"Chemistry" I whispered, still partially taken aback by the intimate contact that we'd shared, "I...I should go."
"So should I" he said with a knowing smile. I raised my eyebrows at him to prompt him to explain himself. He not only ignored me, but walked away with nothing but a smug look upon his face. I stood by the tree for a few moments, unable to move, before eventually following his path to the lockers.
