Disclaimer: Twilight is the intellectual property of Stephanie Meyer. I am merely playing with her characters to create new art under the guidelines set out by Fair Use. I am in no way profiting from the following. Also any associated lyrics belong to their respective authors as noted (and Vitamin C for her song Graduation that has been an anthem for anyone who graduated college/high school/middle school in the early 2000s).

Again, this is rated M for mature. Please do not read unless you are 18+. This chapter includes some mild language and underage drinking.

Part One: Young Adult

Chapter 2: Last Dance

"Won't you let me walk you home from school?

Won't you let me meet you at the pool?

Maybe Friday I can get tickets for the dance

And I'll take you..."

-Thirteen by Elliott Smith

It was Saturday, Bella's first week of college had a few bumps, and her broken heart left her perpetually paranoid, but nothing that she couldn't handle by plastering on a smile at the appropriate times.

She liked all of her classes except for her honors level Investigative Reporting class. Only the strong survived this class that proved few were strong. For now it was fine, interesting even, but her professor was hellbent on breaking the will of his students. Not only was he rude, he was the least encouraging person she knew, continuously harping on the students to get out while they could. There were no career prospects in journalism, he preached.

"All of you came here to this expensive institution to prepare for your intended career. You've taken the exams, gotten the grades – perhaps in some cases bribed a few influential and pretentious academics – yet you've all made the utterly stupid mistake of majoring in journalism. Say goodbye to a career. There isn't one. At the end of these four years," he paused briefly to dramatically take off his eye glasses in a swift movement of an old Hollywood actor and squinted straight to the back of the lecture hall, "maybe five for some of you, all you will have done is taken some classes that teach you skills you can't apply and wasted Mommy and Daddy's money."

The worst part about his lectures was that he was partially right. The news was filled with reporters losing their jobs because no one read newspapers. It touched on the harsh reality that the Internet wasn't as a reliable source as print or non-cable news. Anyone could be a journalist on the Internet and that made it very difficult for those who were trained to make a decent living.

Bella had been at college for six days and was already rethinking her future.

Tuesday was better though when she sat in on her 19th Century American History: The Greatest Battles course. It was an entirely project based class and she was initially nervous. Bella didn't particularly like working in groups.

If you haven't already been able to tell, definition of social awkwardness is right here: Bella Swan, Exhibit A.

But, she was lucky. Jasper Whitlock from Austin, Texas – a true southern gentleman – volunteered, much to her surprise, to be Bella's project partner for the semester. Not only was he kind and took the social pressure off of her, but he was damn smart in history, a self-proclaimed war enthusiast. Ms. Pacifist, as she were, was never so lucky.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" he drawled, interrupting Bella's forlorn doodling as she waited for class to start. She had gotten there twenty minutes early, one of the first in the small seminar room and immediately noticed the handwritten note inscribed on the chalkboard:

HST230: The person you sit next to will be your project partner for the rest of the semester. No exceptions.

The tables were set apart so only two persons could comfortably fit at a table, sometimes three. Bella darted straight for one of the empty ones, wishing that there would be an odd number of students in the class and no one would choose to sit next to her.

"Um…sure, I mean no, I don't mind," Bella stumbled over her words shocked that someone was talking to her, wanting to sit next to her and was as attractive as he was. If she wasn't still so hung up on Edward she might contemplate flirting.

"You did read the board, right?" Bella gestured to the black chalkboard in front of them.

"Yeah, I guess we're partners for the rest of the semester. Jasper Whitlock, and you are?"

"Bella Swan," she said taking his outstretched hand and shaking it daintily.

"Nice to meet you Bella Swan. I have a feeling about this semester, I think it's going to be a great one," he smiled and Bella could have sworn the edge of it sparkled a bit, like in those cheesy commercials from the 1950s.

Jasper and Bella got lunch everyday for the rest of week. She noticed that although he seemed like a very collected and smooth guy, he also didn't have the greatest luck socially. His scrawny frame made other guys feel physically superior to him and he clammed up in front of girls who flirted with him, which happened to be every girl he came in contact with, except for Bella.

With Jasper added as a contact in her cell phone, the week went on and Bella fell into a routine. She would wake up, study or go to class depending on the day, grab a bite to eat with Jasper at the student Union if their schedules coincided, imagine that she saw Edward roughly four times throughout the day, study some more, then go to sleep and repeat. She couldn't get him out of her head as much as she tried. So, here she was Friday evening, contemplating that maybe if she just saw Edward, she could get him off her mind.

Bella had never been more physically uncomfortable though. Sure she had been in pain after tripping over her own feet and inability to walk in a straight line, which she was displaying quite accurately in the three inch stilettos Rosalie had forced her feet into, but discomfort? No, this was a new experience.

"C'mon Bella, stop pulling your skirt down. You look like you have a major wedgie or are trying to take a crap."

"Wow Rose. Can you be more crass?" Bella spat back a bit more sarcastically and licentious than she intended. She immediately felt reprimanded without a single look from Rosalie.

"I don't need the attitude Bella. I've had a really rough week and I need to let off some steam tonight," Rosalie glared back.

She wasn't going to put up with her ungratefulness. Bella had whined like a petulant and ill-mannered child the past two hours as Rose worked her hardest to flat iron her hair, put on enough makeup without her looking like a drag queen and found the sluttiest, non-slutty dress in Bella's size in her closet. It didn't help that the girl didn't own a single pair of underwear that wasn't 100% cotton. She was being a good, altruistic roommate who turned a small town girl with a wardrobe to match into a "don't mess with me" hot coed with New York flair.

She was even taking Bella out to a fraternity party despite Emmett's protests not to.

To say that being at college with Emmett was everything Rosalie envisioned was so far from the truth it was laughable. After being separated for a year, Rosalie had been looking forward to this time with such suspense and optimism, she even dreamed about it. Instead of frustrating Skype dates, texting, late night calls, and weekend visits after football season, she was elated just for her hand to be held on a Wednesday by the man she loved. But it was only Wednesday. She was in physical proximity with Emmett only one day so far this week. Between her classes, his classes, and the god damn football team, Rosalie was Emmett deprived and he didn't seem phased one bit. Sure he sent her sweet texts that he was missing her, but he couldn't take the time to pick up the phone or log onto Facebook chat? She even marched straight to the apartment he was living in only to arrive to see that it was empty, void of both him and his roommate Peter. Both were at some god-forsaken football brotherly bonding event, while Rosalie was stuck stomping her very nice designer shoes into the cheap carpet of his apartment complex with proverbial steam coming out of her ears and nostrils.

In her frustration she left Emmett a very loud voice mail message declaring that she was going to the stop light party at Delta Sigs Friday night and unless he called her back within the next five minutes she was wearing yellow. Ninety seconds later, Mr. Big Stuff was playing on her phone – Emmett was calling.

No, Rosalie was not going to be putting up with attitude tonight from anyone, Bella included.

"Sorry, Rose," Bella whispered. She knew Emmett and Rose hadn't been lovers in paradise this past week. In fact she hadn't seen Emmett once and she knew that as the week drew nearer to the end, Rosalie's increased testiness was directly correlated to Emmett's increased absence. Bella was beginning to think his scarcity was because of her. Did he tell Edward? Did he say something? Bella was reeling with panic.

"Rose, I really don't hope Emmett's not coming around because of me."

"What?" Rosalie flipped her head sharply to the side to look at Bella, completely flabbergasted.

"That's the most egotistical thing I've heard, and I've been dating Emmett McCarty Cullen for four years!" she exclaimed, flailing her arms in the air dramatically. All of Rosalie's frustrations from being Emmett-less were making her hysterical.

It was Bella's turn to wear a face sketched with shock. Egotistical was a word she had never heard used in the same sentence as her name before. She was a bit humbled.

"I'm sorry Bella, you're really not egotistical, but that is such an asinine reason," Rosalie breathed deeply as she sunk onto the stone ledge that wrapped around the fraternity house they were now standing in front of.

"Emmett hasn't been around because he's busy, no other reason. I just thought that all these feelings of missing him constantly would go away. I mean we spent two years apart and it was fucking hard, but we dealt with it and got through it. I felt like we paid our dues, but here we are again, living within less than a mile from each other and still hardly seeing one another!" she buried her head in her hands.

Bella didn't know what to do. Rosalie Hale had initially struck her as the last person who would ever need someone to comfort her – she was always so…feisty.

"It's only been six days. You still have an entire semester ahead of you and plenty of time to work out your schedules," Bella said softly as she rubbed small circles on Rosalie's back, relaxing her tremendously. Although Bella wasn't realistically convinced of her mothering capabilities, onlookers couldn't deny that she did have some pretty extraordinary maternal instincts.

"You're right," Rosalie sighed, regaining her composure, breathing deeply through her nose and out through her mouth like a yoga instructor.

"I'm usually not such a needy girlfriend, I think I'm just feeling overwhelmed with all these adjustments."

"Me too. Me too," Bella sighed almost pitifully in agreement. This past week had been one hell of an adjustment.

Trying to get used to sharing a small space with someone who appeared to be almost your exact opposite, learning that the guy you are madly in love with is an asshole, and rethinking your professional purpose in life, was all a bit taxing.

"I'm sorry, let's get over this pity-party and enjoy ourselves," Rose stated more assuredly as she stood up and straightened out invisible wrinkles on her tight fitting red bandage dress. Bella wasn't a guy but she knew that every man inside that fraternity house would be lusting after Rosalie Hale the minute she walked in. The beautiful long and flowing blonde wavy locks contrasted beautifully with her cherry red dress that accentuated all of her womanly curves. Yes, Rosalie Hale was St. Raphael's very own Scarlett Johannson.

"Remind me again why I'm stuck in green?" Bella winced at Rose's color choice for her dress. Why couldn't she look drop dead gorgeous in a slinky red dress instead of looking like a piece of asparagus?

"It's a stop light party, Bella," Rosalie dramatically sighed at the fact that she had to explain something to her utterly dense roommate for the third time.

"You wear red if you're taken and in a relationship, like me, yellow if you might be seeing someone but are open to a little fun, and green if you're single."

"Oh," Bella said disappointed she didn't like how Rosalie's voice became very blunt at the end. Didn't anyone have any compassion for single girls? Not only did you have to bear the burden of being unwanted, but you had to get stuck in the ugliest of the three colors.

Rose noticed the direction Bella's thoughts were taking her as she toyed with Rose's slinky green dress with a hint of disdain.

"You may not be used to wearing something that isn't plaid or flannel, but you look hot, if I do say so myself. Edward would definitely be jealous," Rosalie saw Bella's eye light up with hope at just the sound of his name and it frightened her that he had such control over her, "but it's not about him tonight, it's about you. It's about time you meet a nice guy who cares about you and is real."

Bella was slowly coming to terms with Rose's insistence that Edward only lived in her dreams and imagination and that the real Edward Cullen, son of Carlisle and Esme, brother to Emmett and Alice, was not worth her time.

"You're right. Tonight is about me." She said with confidence as she sashayed her hips with an overexerting womanly defiance as her and Rose walked arm in arm towards the front steps of Delta Sigma Alpha.

2004

"You look beautiful tonight," Edward whispered down to Bella as he held her far enough apart in his arms so that Mr. Banner, the school principal, wouldn't yell at them.

Face to face, leave some space.

A part of him really just wanted to kiss the damn girl, but the other part wanted to run far away until he figured out why all of a sudden he wanted to kiss his best friend.

Bella bowed her head to hide herself from Edward's adoring stare and shield the thrill she felt at hearing him call her beautiful. It was the first time he ever said it.

Edward Masen Cullen called me, Isabella Marie Swan, beautiful at our 8th grade graduation dance as we slow dance to…

Bella attentively listened to the lyrics and beat coming from the speakers on the stage. She had been too lost in Edward to know what song was even playing.

And I keep thinking of that night in June

I didn't know much of love

But it came too soon

And there was me and you

Bella felt insanely girly at that moment. She wanted to draw sickeningly happy pink and purple hearts all over the bathroom stalls at his simple four words.

"Can you believe it? High school next year! I'm so ready to get out of this shitty hell," Edward mumbled as he wrapped his hands further behind Bella's waist and her arms creeped protectively tighter around his neck.

"Edward!" she admonished at his increasingly foul language. Bella would never admit it to Charlie but it was in fact Edward who had taught her every curse word she knew except for the C-word. He turned ten shades of pink when she tried to goad him into telling her, her curiosity getting the best of her before he abruptly got up off his couch and ran upstairs into his bedroom until Bella finally decided that he wasn't coming back and went home.

"Oh Bella, say it. Say shit. You know you can," he teased as he spied Mr. Banner looking on authoritatively.

Face to face, leave some space.

"Shit," she whispered.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't quite make that out Miss Swan," he smiled laughingly at her timidness.

This was his best friend Bella, not the girl who made him panic the first moment he saw her tonight in a kind of strapless navy dress that looked beautiful against her creamy skin. It was a simple dress, no ruffles, lace, or frills, just plain navy colored satin. It was exactly the type of dress Bella would wear, but all he noticed was one thing.

She had boobs. When did Bella get boobs? He had to run flying to the restroom to throw cold water on his face and remind himself that she was his best friend – the very same girl that he tickled to make her lose in Mario Kart. She then pushed him on the floor until they were wrestling…

Damn it! Don't think about that. Bad idea.

Edward instead reminded himself of the time he walked in on his parents in the kitchen last week. It calmed him down instantly.

"We're still going to be friends in high school, right Edward?" Bella asked suddenly as the song came to an end and the silence between her and Edward had grown too long. The lyrics were really resonating with her uncertain emotions, lyrics about remembering the good times and saying goodbye. Bella didn't want to say goodbye to the special boy who was holding her.

"Of course Bella. We'll always be friends," he said with every ounce of sincerity he possessed. There was no doubt in his mind.

"You look really handsome tonight," she whispered as she closed the distance between them.

Face to face, leave some space. Screw it!

This time it was Edward's turn to blush as Bella rested her head on his shoulder and he hugged her tighter.

Bella cowered in the corner of the house like the small mousey girl she knew she was. She felt like the combination of feline prey and a witness to a natural disaster with each shifty eye stare from a man she didn't trust as beer spilled, people fell, and furniture broke. She looked around for Rose, one of many dressed in bright red probably because no one could find a damn green dress she mused. Bella continued to nurse her plastic cup of cheap beer when she finally spotted her roommate dancing – more like grinding – with another girl. Guys from all over the living room were eying her as if she were a piece of steak and they were famished carnivores. It made Bella nauseous.

As the rap beat flowed into a new one, Rosalie slowly came out of her dancing trance and caught Bella's eye across the room. She marched over to her on a mission.

Bella hadn't known Rosalie for long, but knew enough that she should be very afraid of the determined and resolute expression encompassing all of Rosalie's facial features.

"Rose! Please! I can't dance! Please don't!" Bella whined and tried to dig her heels literally into the rug when Rose grabbed a hold of her forearm in an entirely too strong grip for someone who had been drinking all night.

This is not happening.

"C'mon Belllla! Llllet lloose!" Rosalie slurred as they finally reached the throngs of their peers that were dancing. Rose was obviously drunk. Bella then saw her take her half full beer and chugged it.

Bella felt herself pulled uncomfortable towards Rosalie's body and was soon in the position of Rose's previous partner.

"Really Rose, I can't dance." Bella was now begging to be released from her hold.

"Ssure you can. Just lllet lllloose. Pretennnd like no one's watching and jjjust move your bodyyy."

Rosalie then provocatively ran her hands down from Bella's forearms to her hips guiding them in a rhythm to fit Lil'Wayne or Lil'Jon or Lil'who-the-hell's song about some variation of getting dirty.

Rose was trying to prompt the ginger who had been spying her and blushing every time she caught her eye. She may be taken and blushing timid red heads definitely weren't her type, but he seemed like a match made in heaven for Bella.

Surprisingly, it was Bella who slowly began to accept her torturous situation and took several deep breaths to release her tension. Her relaxation was short lived as she felt a bigger and harder body against her back and much larger hands around her waist.

"Hey Rose, who's your friend?" a terrifying voice said behind her. Bella turned to stone and was ready to bolt if only her feet weren't frozen.

Much to Rosalie's dismay, it was not the freckled ginger.

"Ed-ward get llost. No one llikes yyou," she slurred once again this time with a great deal of annoyance. Why did Edward always, always, seem to ruin her fun?

"I think we should let your friend decide," he enunciated by drawing the beautiful brunette's ass closer to his hips. He wasn't immune though to reading her signs, he knew she instantly became stiff to his touch but he wrote it off to just initial shock. He'd have her relaxed by the end of the night.

"So what do you say? Should I get lost?" he whispered seductively in her ear taking in a deep breath and noticing the familiar strawberry scent of her hair. It caught him completely off guard and he too stiffened.

Bella wanted to speak. To tell him to let her go, but she couldn't. She was frozen in time, not even feeling her own body.

I must be dreaming. I have to be. This doesn't feel real. It isn't real.

The mantra kept playing on repeat in her head.

"You're wearing green for a reason. That definitely means that you should at least honor me with one dance, don't you think?" he continued in her ear after shaking off the ghostly sensation that overcame him with her scent.

That unexpected familiarity caught him off guard and to be honest knocked him off his game momentarily. He now was more determined than ever to woo this girl, not to be stunted by some strange inexplicable feeling. He would not fail. He never failed on a conquest.

"You really do look beautiful tonight."

But, fate was not on his side tonight as his last words lit something inside Bella. The last time Edward had his hands on her hips, he said those same words. It was the extreme sense of déjà vu that oddly brought her to reality and she slipped out of his loose drunk grasp in haste, pulling Rosalie along with her.

No one had ever run out on Edward Cullen before. He didn't know what to do. He didn't even get to see her face, just her beautiful exposed alabaster back and soft chestnut hair. She reminded him of someone but he couldn't quite place it.

It took him some time for his thoughts to resonate with him that he had to go after her, but by the time he did she was lost in the sea of party goers and already out of the house running down the streets of collapsed drunkards away from him.

The walk back to their dorm at one o'clock in the morning was much quicker for Bella as her mind ran on fast forward speed, replaying every breath, every touch, every syllable of her last few minutes in the Delta Sigs house. She was completely deaf to Rosalie's blabbering on how drunk she was, the cute red head that she swore would have come over if Emmett's ass of a brother hadn't, and how much Bella really must hate him too.

It wasn't until Rosalie tripped over her own two feet, taking Bella down with her as they neared their dorm room door that Bella took in fully how wasted Rosalie really was. Once again, reality and the matters at hand came crashing down on her like an avalanche. How easy Edward made it for her to get lost in vertigo!

"C'mon Rose. We're almost there and then you can go to sleep, but not now. Please, not now."

Rosalie tried to stand up but needed more of Bella's strength than her own. With a few more incoherent words and more stumbling she was finally able to collapse on the futon.

College aged instincts and watching Lifetime movies on the Sunday afternoons she spent with her mother, reminded her to get Rose a glass of water and a bucket. She rolled her onto her side and placed a fluffy fleece blanket over her.

"Bella, Idon havma ceys," Rose mumbled after drinking the water Bella had practically forced down her throat.

"It's OK Rose. Go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

"No," the indignant drunk emerged.

"I don hav ma keyeeees," Rose said more emphatically before finally passing out.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Bella mumbled as she pulled at the roots of her hair. This was all too much for her. This dress, this party, dancing, him, drunk Rosalie, losing keys, she couldn't deal with all of it and the panic that she earlier suppressed was rising in her blood.

"Emmett. I'll call Emmett," she continued to voice out loud her thoughts. She awkwardly and tactfully slid Rose's blackberry out of her bra where she kept all of her possessions when she went out and quickly found Emmett in the contacts and called him.

He didn't pick up.

But after leaving a blank voice mail message because she was so overcome with frightened uncertainty the device began to light up indicating an incoming text message.

hey babe. cant talk. whats up? u back safely? - Em

Emmett, it's Bella. Please call me. - Rose

Within seconds the phone came alive in her hands.

"Is Rose OK?" a frightened and muffled voice rushed on the other line.

"Yeah she's fine now. She's sleeping off her drinks. I'm sorry to worry you."

"It's OK Bella, but I really can't talk, we're not suppose to be up and I don't want to get in trouble before the game tomorrow," he said yawning. Bella instantly felt terrible for waking him up the morning of the first game of the season.

"Sorry Emmett. Rose left her keys at the frat house we were at and I really don't want to go back there alone," she shuddered thinking of all the cat calls her and Rose got as they stumbled back to the dorm and most of all thinking of having to confront him again. She didn't think she could handle it if she caught a glimpse of his face. It would mean that he really was real and this wasn't just a dream.

"Shit. I swear you can't take her anywhere!

"Look, on the floor above you, the RA's name is Riley. He should be in his room. Let him know what's going on and that you're a friend of mine. He'll make sure to go with you."

"Thank you! Thank you so much Emmett!" Bella breathed a sigh of relief. She needed to have someone with her if she was going to even be in the same room as Edward Cullen again.

After coercing their suite mate, Monica, to keep an eye on Rose Bella found herself rounding the corner onto Delta Street with Riley Biers and a very awkward and heavy silence.

"I can't thank you enough for walking and coming to pick up Rosalie's keys with me," Bella thanked him manically, resting her hand on his foreman emphatically.

It caused Riley to blush profusely. He couldn't complain that a beautiful girl woke him up in the middle of the night asking for him to walk around with her on a late summer night. He was a romantic that way. But he did hope that he wasn't wearing his "Man of Steel" Superman boxers that he knew made him look like a tool.

"Really Bella. No worries. I'm glad you asked me and decided not to walk by yourself. It's not safe even if you do possess pepper spray," he grinned sideways at her pink canister firmly attached to her key chain and she shakily laughed.

Riley wasn't the most perceptive male, but he could tell that something was a bit off about this girl. She didn't seem drunk but she wasn't entirely with it, lost in thought it seemed.

"I also wanted to apologize about my…ermm…" Riley struggled to find the right words to explain his state of undress that did leave him in nothing but those embarrassing red superman boxers and a blush to match once he woke up a bit and joined Bella in reality.

"Really it's OK, I swear I didn't see anything," Bella vomited words uncontrollably. She was never a good liar, but hoped with all her might that Riley's eyes were too overcome with sleep to notice that the entire time she explained the situation to him about Rosalie leaving her keys, her eyes were transfixed on the well defined area of his boxer briefs and not his face. She couldn't help it if the thick cotton stitching outlined a prominent part of his anatomy in a very contrasting hue.

"Umm…ok, that's good," Riley wasn't expecting that as an answer. What didn't she see? It wasn't like he had a girl in the room with him…

"Yesterday I had a guy I hadn't seen since I was thirteen walk in on me while I was in my Power Rangers underwear."

"Oh god."

"So I guess that kind of makes us even, right? Both suffering embarrassment at the hands of superhero cartoons," Bella joked.

"I don't know. Power Rangers? That's kind of lame Bella."

Bella pushed Riley a bit, as he skidded off the sidewalk laughing at her playful temper. The awkwardness was successfully broken until she stubbed her toe and went flying forward. Beneath her was a cold, hard body.

"Oh my God," Bella gasped as her hand went flying towards her mouth in fear. This lifeless body passed out on the cement sidewalk was none other than Edward.

"Bella, are you OK?" Riley was now crouched down beside her dually examining her scratched limbs and searching for a pulse on the strange guy passed out from what Riley suspected was an overdose on some type of drug.

Bella sat in shock, not responding to Riley's question, only staring at what she saw before her: Edward's sharp features frozen in unconsciousness. They hadn't softened like they used to when he was asleep she mused. She always remembered him to be angelic in his sleep.

"Bella, Bella, are you OK?" Riley asked again, now becoming increasingly concerned with the situation at hand, his calm exterior deteriorating rapidly with Bella's state of shock.

Everything turned into waves of incoherence for Bella. Her high definition world full of crisp contracting street lamps suddenly became a watercolor painting of blurry halos in the night sky. Voices grew distant, detached, deeper.

"I'm gonna call 911, this guy needs to go to the hospital," was the last she heard, before she closed her eyes too, shock completely claiming her body, and her head hit the wet, hard cement.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed (and will review) as well as those who put this story on alert. Thanks for taking a chance on me! Please let me know your thoughts or any other musings filling your pretty heads about this chapter's Drunkward and Scaredella. Until next time lovelies.