Author's Note: Smaller chappie, I know. Another author's note at the end....

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Chapter Two:

The Stepsister

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Playlist:

No playlist this time…sorry!

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Mike Newton was the king of dumbasses and Jessica was his queen. After a long drive home—filled with deafening silence and Charlie's choking grip on the steering wheel that probably resembled Edward Cullen's neck in his illusory madness—I've come to find said Queen and King Dumbass primly sitting on my porch, one with a canary-eating grin while the other looked as if I just told him I'd ran over his puppy and enjoyed doing it.

Two guesses which look belonged to whom….

Charlie gave me a pointed look as he exited the car that clearly said: get rid of 'em now!

I knew not to try his patience; being called to pick up one's daughter from a town nearly six hours away when she was supposed to be having a nice wholesome night consisting of a birthday slumber party with only girls. Definitely not consisting of liquor and not six hours away—any dad would be at his breaking point there. However, being told that his "innocent" daughter had a one night stand, got married, and was now court ordered to live alone with said guy, had Charlie red, boiling, and a total crab.

Yeah, where's that appallingly stale sense of humor now, Dad?

It went right out of the window once I told Charlie what Edward swindled us into. Luckily for Edward, we were already three hours away before I told him.

But nevertheless, I couldn't pass up the opportunity of telling off King and Queen Ass since it was mainly their fault anyway.

Ten more minutes of defiance wouldn't kill Charlie.

You know what they say, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and all that crap….

Mike sat, head ducked, hands tucked between his knees, as Charlie walked past him, grimacing at the fake ass, sparkly grin Jessica Stanley was shooting my father's way as he went into the house. Smug bitch.

He glanced over his shoulder—probably making sure that Charlie had, indeed, gone into the house and wasn't hovering behind the screen door like the overprotective psycho dad he pretends that he's not—before sputtering unintelligently.

"What the fuck happened at Club Eclipse, Swan?!" he hissed, barreling off the porch towards me like he actually had some sort of claim on me. One glance towards Queen Dumbass's now sobered expression told me she came to the same idea that I had, and she was not happy at all.

"Excuse me? Where the fuck did you guys go? Leaving me alone at a fucking club, with no way to go home! Guess what? Not such a good idea!" I hissed back.

"Oh, come on! Cut the shit, Swan, you left us and you know it. Jessica saw you walk out with her own two eyes," he mocked, his hands flailing around in the air like a crazy, angry chicken.

With her own two eyes, did she? Figures…

I turned my 'drop dead, bitch' glare towards Jessica and noticed her return one of her own.

Fine, bitch, don't look remorseful then.

"Well, if Jessica really did see me walk out—of a club! Drunk!—shouldn't that send out red sparks or some shit? Hello! Bella fucking Swan walks out of a club! And, hey, there's a pretty good chance that she's drunk! Where did you think I went to, Mike? Home to water the fucking plants?" I yelled. "Or did you even care that some guy could have possibly been taking advantage of me in my drunkenness?" I whispered the last part, the turmoil of the week finally setting in.

Emotions were weird that way. Edward Cullen couldn't break me; Judge Volturi couldn't break me; but one look at one of my closest friends, acting just as he were a week ago, talking to me like I was Bella Swan—the girl he use to make mud pies with—and not Bella Cullen—a girl whom I didn't even know yet—had downsized my emotional range to that of a teaspoon.

Life just wasn't fair. Here I stood, in front of two people who had participated in the same things that night (plus more), who did that sort of thing every weekend, and I was the one that had to reap the consequences of what was supposed to be "just a little fun before school started".

Mike's face softened and he held his arms out, stepping closer.

I shook my head furiously, taking a step back. "No! No, huggy-buddy. I just want some time alone."

His hands dropped down to his sides as he sighed softly. "I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't think to ask…I didn't know if…." he trailed off, glancing over his shoulder at Jessica.

"If someone had taken advantage of you, you would tell me right?" he whispered softly so that only I could hear.

I nodded.

"Did they?"

"No," I murmured back. And it was true, I wasn't taken advantage of; I was just as responsible as Cullen was.

He sighed, running his hands through his hair. "Okay," he said simply. "Jess, let's go. Call me if you need me, Bells."

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I walked past Charlie, who was sitting on the couch—a beer in one hand and the remote in the other—as he shouted out wrong answers to Wheel of Fortune, and into the kitchen to fix us a quick, late lunch.

But when I remembered all of the times Charlie had been eating hotel food and fast food for the whole week just to help straighten out the mess I created.

I decided to cook an early dinner.

Urgh, the power of guilt…..

Lasagna happened to be his favorite, and today was just one of those days where lasagna seemed practical.

Nothing like a hearty meal to say, "I'm sorry."

I opened the fridge and snatched up the cheese, meat, and noodles and began working.

Cooking was relaxing to me. Just knowing that I was creating something worthwhile completely from scratch was very rewarding.

It also helped that between Renee, Phil, and Charlie, I was the only one that actually knew how to make a meal that didn't require a microwave or a toaster. Cooking had always been something I prided myself on. After all, it was something I was able to do when no part of the parental unit could.

My phone buzzed just as I was about to add the sauce. I quickly slipped it out, not even bothering to look at the caller ID, and answered.

"Talk to me."

"Is that how you people answer the phone over there?"

"Hello, Jane, to what do I owe the pleasure this time?" I sighed.

Jane was my older sister; well, step-sister anyway. Her father Phil had the balls to marry Renee, thus making her my sister. She was such a snob and her mother was some big time supermodel over in Italy. For that reason alone, Jane felt like the world owed her everything. I usually tried to avoid her, but ever since I'd fallen victim to the devil incognito, she'd made it her personal goal to take me under her broken wings; you know, now that she deemed my life interesting enough.

Yeah, I know, total bitch!

So why don't I just hang up, you say? Well, getting drunk and marrying a complete stranger is right up Jane's alley—hell, anything deemed immoral is right up Jane's alley. Right now was just one of those days where I had to break out the disinfectant spray and pick through that sludge fill she had the nerve to call a brain.

"Tsk, tsk, little Bells. Don't you be talking to me like that! Especially when I know a secret…." She sing-songed.

God, her voice could be so annoying most times, but okay, I bite!

"And what secret is that, Janey?" I sing-songed back. I knew I would regret kissing up later, but hey, between Jane and Edward, I considered Jane to be the lesser of two evils.

"First say you're sorry."

"I'm sorry," I grumbled back.

"Okay, and now say that I am the most beautiful person in the world."

Heaven help me!

"You are the most beau—beau—ti—beauti—fu—fool person in the world," I stumbled out.

She sighed. "I guess that'll have to do… for now," she mumbled.

"Okay, great!" I exclaimed, relieved as hell that she wouldn't make me say it again. Even I wasn't that good of a liar. "Spill it!"

"Well….Okay. I was sitting at the salon—you know, the one on Main Avenue, over there by that hideous boutique your mother loves to shop at?"

"Yep," I replied, clearly remembering the green boa wrapped around one of the display mannequins.

"Okay, well, like I said. I was sitting at New Moon's waiting for Marcus to apply this new scrub he made. It's supposed to like, make your hair supper soft or some shit like that. But really, it's just a complete rip-off. I mean, my hair is already naturally soft and shiny. I really didn't need it, but Marcus insisted… and I was like, what the hell? At the least it'll make my hair smell like kiwi, and you know how much I love kiwi. I have no clue why they don't make kiwi scented shampoo anymore…."

"Urgh, if there's no point I'm hanging up," I grumbled, rolling my eyes. I mean, shampoo, scrub, kiwi… who the fuck cares?

"Jeesh, you really need to get laid."

"Screw you!" I spat out.

"I know, dear, but I'm sure your new hubby is desperate enough to do that."

"The point, Jane."

"Okay. Anyway, Marcus was just putting on his new scrub when Caius himself walks through the doors."

"Okay…?"

"Okay, so, Caius started talking to Marcus about God knows what, so I pulled out a magazine and completely tuned them out… until he mentioned the name Cullen. I was curious, wondering why in the hell that name sounded so familiar. But then Jasper texted me—"

"Wait, Jasper texted you?" Then what the fuck was his reason for not texting me back?

"Well, yeah, he said he called and texted you a few times yesterday but you never responded. He wanted to know why the fuck there was pictures of you making out with some guy named Edward Cullen—with matching ring pops on—in front of a chapel, on Facebook."

Wait, hold up. "Pictures? What fucking pictures? And, facebook? I don't even have a facebook account!" I screeched.

"Well, you should get one," she laughed. "You guys look so wasted it's almost cute."

Urgh, fuck me! The wooden spoon I had been holding clattered to the floor as I made my way to my room, silently chanting, "pictures, facebook, must find pictures."

"And when they mentioned Masen, it finally clicked. I mean, really fucking clicked:Tanya Denali went to the boarding school my mom sent me to my sophomore year. Well, anyway, she was a crazy slut, always had her nose in the latest fashion magazine, and her skirt flipped up for better grades—sleeping her way to the top basically."

I sighed, half listening to Jane's rambles and half watching as my annoyingly ancient computer dialed in. This is exactly why I don't have facebook.

"Well, after winter break she came back, raving about this boy she'd met in New York. She claimed she was in love and 'like, totally head-over-heels' for him—not to mention he was rich and his mother was like, this big socialite who was taking her to Paris for fashion week!"

Finally! I've got internet! I felt like the skies should open up and a light beam should highlight the contraption.

"So, of course, she raved on and on about finding the perfect dress and hiring the perfect stylist. It was annoying really. I mean, I was going too, but you didn't hear me talking about it all of the time, twenty-four hours a day!"

I smiled as facebook finally popped up and I was able to type in Jasper's email address. He really isn't the creative type. He's had the same password since third grade.

"So, anyway, like six weeks later, my roommate Victoria found her crying and puking her guts up into the toilet."

"Okay, so she had an eating disorder. No big deal," I replied. I had completely given up on seeing how this whole conversation was relevant.

"That's what I thought, too! I mean, who hasn't tried splurging to drop a few pounds before fashion week?"

"Hmm," I agreed, looking through Jasper's feed.

"Okay, so the next day, Victoria goes to her dorm room to make sure that she's okay. Everybody thinks Victoria's a bleeding heart, but really, she's just a conniving little bitch. I have no clue what James Cor see's in her."

"Wait, James Cor, the actor, James Cor?"

"Yup, that'll be the one. Blonde hair, blue eyes, sexy fucking smile." She sighed dreamily.

I grunted in agreement. He was sex on legs, but from all of the drama the press claimed he kept, he was a little too unstable for my taste.

"Yeah, so, Victoria went to her dorm and Tanya's roommate, Rosalie, answered, claiming that Tanya had transferred in the dead of the night. So Victoria might have mentioned seeing Tanya for fashion week with Elizabeth Masen next month…"

Pictures, finally…

"But Rosalie said that Elizabeth Mason was her aunt that had been dead for years! So imagine my surprise when I actually see Tanya at fashion week. Only she's not with Elizabeth Mason, like she claimed, but working as one of Laurent Mario's seamstresses!" She laughed.

I groaned, looking at the picture that clearly showed McBastard and I making out with matching ring pops in front of a chapel. God, how much longer is my life going to be screwed?

"But get this: one of her supervisors or whatever, was bitching about her getting the dresses finished in time, and they didn't call her Tanya Denali but Tanya fucking Cullen!"

"Wait, what?!" I yelled, jumping out of my chair, pictures temporarily forgotten.

"Yeah, so Tanya rushed out from sitting behind the table, apologizing profusely—the bitch was ready to pop!" She laughed.

"What do you mean 'pop'? 'Pop' like, my splurging didn't work 'pop,' or 'pop' like something else?"

"'Pop' like, the bitch was eight months pregnant 'pop'!"

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Author's Note:

So sorry this chapter was up like a week late, but I had some serious technical issues. My computer frizzed and I lost the original chapter and had to rewrite, and then after I rewrote it, my internet completely stopped working! So sorry to the last few reviewers that didn't get teasers! But…..now that my computer's fixed, hopefully, I'm back to updating once a week and sending out teasers for each review. The next chapter's almost done so hopefully it'll be up by Saturday? And guess what? It's Edward's point of view…interesting huh?

And also, please don't hate Edward, there is a side to every story, and besides are we really going to listen to idle gossip? I think not….

And as always, I like to thank Gangstapenguinduck lover for making this chapter readable and not one rambling, muddled thought like it originally was! You're truly awesome!

So Reviews equal faster updates and teasers!