A/N: The first few chapters will be from Edward, and then it'll move to Bella.
I'll update next weekend with chapter 3, and if you leave a review, I'll give you a spoiler. :)
Year 7 is the same as 7th grade, etc. We just say it differently. In Australia high school is from year 7 to 12. Hope that helps.
Vertigo
Chapter 2
Edward.
I found her the next day, and every day after, just as Emmett had said; sitting in the library with either her nose stuck in a text book or looking like she was buried deep in school work.
Every day for the rest of my school life I stopped at the library before the second half lunch bell rang. I rarely went in. It was enough to reassure myself that she was there, because there was no way I could do anything more. I could barely make eye contact with her, and talking to her was out of the question.
I kept close tabs on her, though. I was a good stalker back then, and I was pretty certain she never knew. I learned a lot about her in that first year. The first was that she didn't make a lot of friends—if any. I sometimes saw her with Angela Weber, a girl from her year, but for the most part she seemed to be comfortable being alone.
Me, on the other hand, being Emmett's brother I was popular by default, and by the fact that I captained every sports team in my year, from swimming to cricket and Aussie Rules. Then there was my best mate, Jake. I met him on the first day of term in Year 7. We were put in the same Roll Call, while he, Emmett, and I were all in the same house team.
Jake's almost as tall as Emmett and as a stress reliever—for being the only son of advertising giant William Black—he worked out. He was built like no other kid in the school, or no teacher for that matter, and between the three of us, we rarely lost—at anything. Every year, back to back, from Year 7 to 12 we brought the first place regional trophy for Basketball, Rugby, AFL and Cricket back to the school.
The last I heard our record has still yet to be surpassed.
I occasionally saw Isabella in her sports uniform, but it was obvious even from afar that she was uncomfortable. I heard, mostly through Emmett, that she usually wasn't allowed to participate fully in PE and had more than once been sent to sickbay with an asthma attack. Unlike me, she was no good at sport—which wasn't really her fault—but whereas I was a "C" average student, she was easily at the top of her grade.
At the end of the school year, I was awarded four "Best and Fairest" sportsmanship trophies.
Pop was there; he came to all our school presentations, and he gave me a standing ovation from the audience with each trophy I was called up to collect. The sport awards were announced first, and I'll admit, I was pretty happy with myself, and more so knowing Isabella was there and she'd see what I'd achieved. Plus, I beat Emmett. He only won two; one for basketball and the other for rugby. We were pretty competitive with each other, and to beat him was huge for me. Especially knowing I wouldn't get the shit beat out of me from my sadistic mother afterwards.
Ever since Pop had taken over custody of us, he had forbidden her from coming anywhere near me and Emmett, so it was a triumph I could enjoy without the fear of repercussions.
Emmett was pissed while I sat beside him grinning broadly to myself, but my satisfaction was short-lived. The presentation moved onto academics, starting with Year 7.
I watched stunned as Isabella collected award after award until I started feeling like shit. She won five; placing first in English, Science, History, Geography and Economics. I realised, compared to this girl, I was a dumb-arse. Even Emmett managed to win third place in Geometry, and overall his grades were worse than mine.
I noticed her parents in the audience straight away, and two younger brothers—something else I realised about her. Her father looked just as pissed off as he did the first time I saw him, and every two minutes he kept checking his watch. Though I did witness him kiss Isabella's cheek and almost crack a smile when she returned to her seat with all her awards.
At the end of the night Pop was congratulated repeatedly by both parents and teachers over how athletically gifted Emmett and I both were, but I was embarrassed. My trophies felt worthless. I wanted to impress Isabella, but I'd failed. She obviously didn't give a crap about sports like I did, and I knew if I was going to get her to notice me I had to step up.
I started Year 10 with a goal to pull up my grades, and to get her to notice me. She knew who I was, I was sure of it. I was awarded as Junior Prefect at the start of the year, and that was done during assembly in the auditorium, so there was no way she wouldn't. Occasionally we'd cross paths in the hall, but since the girls classes were at the opposite end of the school that wasn't often. The few times we did she walked straight past me, her head in the clouds, or a book; everywhere but on me.
By the end of the year both Emmett and Jake were getting pretty serious reputations. Jake changed girlfriends more frequently than he pumped iron, and Emmett fucked anything in a skirt. I was still a virgin, and while girls were really starting to bother me, the one girl I was interested in appeared completely oblivious to me.
The comparisons between me and Emmett were stark. While my aversion to girls really hadn't changed, Emmett was the polar opposite. Rumours were beginning to circulate about me. Of course, Emmett squashed them immediately, only worried about how having a "poof" for a brother would reflect on him. While for the first time in my life, I took an interest in the girls' gossip. I didn't want to be labelled a whore by association with my walking STD-carrying brother, but I sure as hell didn't want Isabella thinking I wasn't even batting for her team.
Then Jake convinced me that if I started going out with girls, it'd make her notice me, as well as shut the rumours up. I wasn't really convinced, but I gave it a shot and asked out Bree Tanner. She'd been shoving love letters in my locker for months, and getting her friends to pester me every lunch break. She was moderately pretty, I guess, but she paled in comparison to Isabella. That's the only thing I could think every time I looked at her.
I asked her to the flicks and the girl almost chucked a fit before she threw her arms around me. I immediately tensed and had to fight the urge to shove her off me. After that, she notified the entire school that we were going out and I was her boyfriend. It pissed me off because almost immediately all I wanted to do was get away from her.
We went out the following Friday night, and half way through the movie she asked me to feel her up. I almost bloody choked on my choc-top.
"Erm...maybe later," I mumbled out an awkward reply, attempting to increase the distance between us—more than the armrests allowed—when she reached over and grabbed my dick.
I threw my drink over her. It was more of a reflex than it was deliberate, and while she bitched and carried on, I used it as an excuse to call it a night.
I paid for a taxi to take her home—shoving her forcefully into the car even as she clung to me and tried to kiss me—before I met up with Jake and took the ferry home with him.
The bastard laughed his arse off the entire time, while after ignoring seven calls from her, I threw my phone into the harbour.
After successfully avoiding Bree for the following week, she eventually cornered me at the front entrance bus stop. I broke up with her, and in reply she slapped me.
"You're a dead root, Edward!" she yelled out to half the school before storming off across Hyde Park.
"Fuck sake..." I murmured, dropping my head and rubbing the back of my neck, when my eyes suddenly locked with Isabella's.
She was waiting for the bus several metres away, holding a book close to her face, her head turned toward me.
She held my gaze for no more than a second, when appearing suddenly startled she quickly glanced away, her cheeks flushing. I hadn't seen her catch the bus before; usually her mother picked her up. In a white Range Rover.
I only stared after her for a moment, my mouth open, frigging paralysed to the spot, before Emmett suddenly slapped my back, breaking me from it.
"Maaaaate," he drawled, sounding impressed, before rising his palm to high-five me.
"Seriously, nothing even happened—other than the fact that she's a raging fucking slut," I muttered in response, raising my hand to him begrudgingly.
"Still, coulda been worse," Emmett insisted before hooking his elbow around my neck and pulling me to him. "Though, she's the one who's a dead root. She just fucking lies there like a star fish," he confided in me before chuckling to himself.
"All right, Christ!" I insisted, shoving myself away from him, repulsed, and using the excuse of straightening out my tie and blazer, I snuck a peek at Isabella.
She stood, eyes glued to her book, her expression now smoothed out, and with zero indication that she was still aware of my presence.
I sighed.
. . .
According to Bree Tanner and the rest of the tenth grade girls, that's how I lost my virginity; in the cinema watching Superman Returns.
It was bloody painful, and Emmett and Jake didn't miss an opportunity to take the piss out of me every chance they got. But at least all speculation in regards to my sexuality had reached conclusion. I was straight, but a dead root. As if that was some kind of consolation.
I finished out Year 10, winning the 'Don Bradman medal for Achievement in Sport'. I also took second place in Biology and third in Trigonometry. Isabella cleaned up, topping her grade again in everything but Maths. It officially made me a dumb-arse, and the more I failed in gaining her attention, the more of a dumb-arse I felt.
I went out with a couple of girls, but it was nothing serious, or as painful as my week long stint with Bree. Then when I turned seventeen I lost my virginity. For real, this time. I was going out with Lauren Mallory; no bloody idea why. Jake set us up. We were together for just over a month, when I somehow found myself in her parents' pool house alone with her. She shoved her tongue down my throat, and palmed my dick, and the next thing I knew she was almost choking me as she attempted to remove my school tie.
It was a good thing she knew what she was doing, because I sure as hell didn't. It was over in a couple of minutes, and after, with her scent all over me and feeling like I wanted to puke, I picked myself up, got dressed, and left.
I guess I didn't leave much of an impression, because for the next couple of months Lauren gave me the cold shoulder. It's not that I was complaining. I couldn't even look her in the eye without wanting to start groaning out loud to myself. We never officially broke up, but a month later Lauren's parents up and yanked her out of school. Rumour had it she was sent to an all-girls Catholic boarding school in the upper north shore.
At the same time, Pop got a phone call from her old man demanding I stay away from his daughter. Then word got out that I'd knocked her up and her parents had "taken care of it".
I never found out if any of it was true, but I couldn't fucking breathe for a week. Then the Headmaster called me into his office where he busted my arse with the paddle—ten fucking times—for bringing disrepute to the good name of Sydney Grammar School.
After that I was sworn off girls for good.
Well, except one girl. The brown-eyed beauty who I was sure I'd never find the balls to approach, but time was running out.
I finished Year 11 and started my HSC with a solid "B" average. My days of being hauled into the Headmaster's office were over, and I was made school captain. Apparently "knocking up" Lauren Mallory elevated me higher than both Emmett and Jake in the popularity department, and suddenly girls were all over me. I had them texting me at all hours of the day and night, I got dozens of Facebook messages daily, and a group of them from Year 11 and 12 formed the "Edward Cullen Slut Pack" where apparently they had my name spelled out across their tits. They made up complete bullshit about how many of them I'd fucked, and how big my dick was; and how good I apparently was at going down on them. And they followed me everywhere. They came to every single cricket and basketball game I played, and every swim meet, acting as my personal bloody cheer squad.
I ended up with a bigger stud reputation than Emmett, despite the fact that I'd had sex exactly once, and after that train wreck, I wasn't even remotely interested in going for a second round. I got so much daily shit over it that I was forced to take drastic action. I started hiding out in the library where the Slut Pack's bullshit wouldn't be even remotely tolerated, and I started planning.
Isabella still spent every lunchbreak in the library, only she appeared to be now volunteering. Every day I watched her, from the furthest cubicle in the building, as she stamped and shelved books, while hauling around a trolley stacked high with them between the aisles.
I studied her movements for months, knowing I was nearing graduation and if I didn't make a move I'd always regret it.
Every day, without fail, after the second bell for lunch break signalled, she went into the storage room and returned about ten minutes later with the returned books that needed to be shelved. After four months, and stalling on it for three, I had the timing of it down to the second. I was going to stage an accidental run in.
Every day I set my alarm to execute it, and every day I choked. Every. Single. Day.
It was September when I made the decision to just fucking do it, and it was Jake who helped push me into it.
Literally.
*poof (rhymes with hoof) - Gay.
*HSC – Higher School Certificate.
*Don Bradman – Famous Australian cricketer.
*AFL – Australian Football League, or Aussie Rules. Not to be confused with Rugby.
*Root – Sex.
A/N: Thanks for reading.
