A/N Two days in a row? This must be crazy town! Also avoiding my life. So whatever. Anyway here comes the completely unwanted third installment of a story I started when I was like 12 maybe 13. Review to tell me if I should let this madness rest or actually attempt to see it through. I anticipate the former. Here goes.

Chapter 3

The first day of High School. Again. Eventually, I have to get to old to keep going through this. Perks of aging slowly I guess. Don't think about it. You're Bella. Orphan. Going to high school in America for the first time. Your deadbeat dad is dead and you don't know how to feel about that. You're the most exotic thing these kids have ever seen.A blur seen out of the corner of your eye comes to mind. Not the time Bells. You survived bouncing around, getting moved to another country, people dying... the persona settles around me as I finish brushing my hair and doing my makeup in the bathroom mirror. Buzz Buzz. 7 am on the dot. Time to go. One last glance at my reflection... awkward and bewildered 17 year old staring back. Hair longer (and browner) than I was used too but having my typical short hair dyed whatever color would not work for this persona. Also, you've pulled that look several times in the last few cases. One poorly angled Instagram photo and who knows what facial recognition software you'd pop up on. No the long hair and subtle facial adjustments are a necessary part of the job. And Charlie was the police chief. People would think it odd if you looked nothing like him. You're still allowed to be vain. Bella Swan is just so gd plain. Time to go.

"I'm heading out!" I call bounding down the stairs of the two-story abomination. If this is what the safe house looked like, one could only imagine what Charlie's looked like.

"Forgetting something?" Gregor asks waving a set of keys.

"You didn't!"

"Go see for yourself kiddo," he laughs tossing me the keys. And how many times had we done this? It was flawless by now. But still, let's see what toy they hooked me up with this time.

Tesla Motorcycle. Kinda clunky but quiet and efficient and definitely makes a statement. Black with purple near black highlights. Definitely the right vehicle for a transfer. Subtle but shows style. And money. A little broken in to imply you brought it with you, from the worn-in seat to the mileage right down to still having an out of country tag on the bumper. Perfect. a quick inspection shows signs of tinkering, no doubt toys from my employers. Maybe being Bella and living in a place named after cutlery won't be such a bad exile. Is that a raindrop? Who am I kidding this place is just a slowed down "rustic" London. Without the old world charm. And history. And too many trees. Just go to school. One leg over the seat key in the ignition and I'm off. Thank goodness they didn't give me one of those awful fobs. The map I had studied on the plane comes to mind and I'm pulling up in the parking lot of what must be the only school in the state. Or at least one that served several counties. Otherwise the entire population of Forks, Washington was either a teacher or under 18 years old. It's not a large school per say, it appears to be able to comfortably seat 400 or so students, but for a town of 600, it's massive. Empty spot. Pull in. Now, dramatically pull into a spot and turn the ignition, put down the kickstand and dramatically take off your helmet and shake out hair, just like in the movies. open up the seat to exchange helmet for bag and head toward the office. Smile at the gawking populace but otherwise, ignore them as you strut forwards. A few students start forward but seem to think better of it. Perfect. Look unattainable and then act approachable. Keep them on their toes, see who jumps. It's practically child's play but a good way to sort through who's worth your time and who's not. And who's simply good as a hanger-on. Right now though you need information. And to get that you're going to need to locate the school gossip. But schedule and paperwork first.

"You must be Isabella." comes a voice laced with poorly hid disdain. Apparently, she wasn't a fan of my wardrobe choice.

"Just Bella is fine," I smile at the secretary clearly throwing her off guard. "I just came in to grab my schedule and see if there was any other paperwork I needed to fill out? I know my transfer was rather last minute and all." I bite my lip before giving the lady a small smile.

"Here you are dear," she replies obviously taken in by my English charm enough to forget the punk-hipster Londoner esk ensemble I had thrown together. She hands me a folder and a pen. I take a step towards the side in case someone comes in behind me and make short work of the papers too finalize my transfer and verify that I was who I said I was and classes I had taken and where I lived etc. Typical, and a bit sloppy. Which worked well enough for me.

"Here you go," I say a few minutes later giving her the papers I had signed and keeping the ones with my schedule and policies and the like on them. They really didn't get many new students here. Which was well enough. It made intel gathering easy. Everybody knew everybody and those that they didn't... stuck out... glaringly.

"Everything seems to be in order. Feel free to stop by if you need anything."

"Thank you ma'me," I smile taking the papers and turning around, smile dropping almost instantly. A quick glance at the schedule. Homeroom was over and first period was just about starting. Perfect. Room 16. AP Biology. Gross. Who picked these classes. Oh, wait. Sigh.

"You must be Isabella Swan," says a slightly obese man around 60 with what's left of his hair being grey.

"Just Bella is fine. And Weatherworth, I took my adoptive parents surname," I say with a small grimace.

"Well then Bella, here is your textbook, lose it and you'll owe $75. Now, why don't you tell the class a little bit about yourself?"

"Um, okay," I reply taking the textbook from his hand before scanning the room. 23 students. 15 male. 1 non-white student. Half of them already had a crush those that didn't either were in awe or jealous of me taking the attention from them. 1 Green Day fan, 2 1D fans, a Swiftie, 3 preps, 2 wannabe emo kids, an attempt at a skater, and... nope. Skin too pale, hands clenched, dressed simply but in designer clothes, and looking with confused and barely controlled... something. Black eyes. That were definitely yellow a second ago. You haven't seen yellow eyes since... Snap out of it Bella.

"Hey, I'm Bella. 17. Just transferred from London because I found out that my deadbeat sperm donor died and left me his stuff. And while I would have loved to tell my barrister to burn it, I considered it impolite. Besides, leaving my friends behind right before A-levels and when I should be applying to Uni was just too fantastic of an opportunity to pass up. My whole families dead and so is are the people that adopted me. Yes, it sucks. No, I don't feel like talking about it. Yes, that's my Tesla in the parking lot. No, you can't have a ride." With that, I walk to the only open seat. Next to constipated dude. He shifts his stool as far left as it'll go. I roll my eyes. The teacher blinks out of his stupor and continues with the lecture while I pull out my notebook and start an intricate code that appears as a generic doodle but details the secrets of the kids around me. Hey, if they didn't want someone to know that they were cheating then maybe they shouldn't give knowing looks to the person in question. Teenagers. By the shift in my buddy's facial expression and glance to the two in question, he must have picked up on it as well. He looks at me briefly and grins as I make a subtle handjob gesture and nod my head in their direction. Before he remembers that he doesn't like me and glances away.

"-pass around your lab as one of you grabs the supplies and the other starts to set up. It's due at the end of the class period." the teacher finishes as he starts to hand out the assignment while the rest of the class makes a mad dash for the back of the room. I flip my notebook page to a clean one and wait for my lab partner to return with the supplies.

"So what's your name then?" I ask casually while adjusting the microscope.

"Hmm?" he responds as if he had been focused on the assignment, and not gripping his pen so hard it looked ready to snap.

"Your name. Or at least what you want me to call you. Unless you want me to give you a name? because I was somewhere between PoopFace, because you look constipated. Or The Virgin Mary, because you look like you need a good lay." He actually looks at a loss for words. Good. Mission accomplished.

"Edward. Edward Cullen," he gets out after a moment.

"Hmm?" I deadpan looking up from my paper.

"My name. It's Edward Cullen." He starts to make the same constipated look but seems to catch himself at my raised brow. I nod once.

"How do you want to break up the lab?"

"How do you mean?"

"One of us look at the slides and identify what's on them and the other run the analysis. Or one person does everything while the other winks at a random student to give them a heart attack?"

"They wouldn't.." he begins.

"You know them better than I do and I already know that those that don't want to jump my bones want to jump yours and those that aren't jealous of you are jealous or me."

"How do you-?"

"We're both relatively attractive and teenagers with leave me alone auras they didn't grow up with. I have an accent and ride a Tesla Motorcycle and you've gotten the face of a broody loner preppy type who wears clothes that cost more than our teacher makes in a month and drive a Volvo, and yes I saw you watching me in the parking lot."

"I'll do the lab and you can give them heart attacks," he says like he doesn't believe I can. Challenge accepted.

"Look like you're making a pass at me," I mutter writing in my notebook.

"What?"

"Just do it." He leans closer and looks over my shoulder at my notes before turning his head and whispers in my ear.

"What's your plan here?" He asks not quite touching me. I roll my eyes and turn from him seeming to be looking for something. Nerdy wannabe popular kid. Perfect. Glances up. Can't believe I'm looking at him. Glances up again. Meets my eyes. I bit my lip and wink. He promptly passes out. I turn back to my assignment as the teacher rushes over to him and the other students laugh.

"You are a very bad girl."

"Not my type Cullen," I say more to watch him sputter than anything.

"What. I didn't. I don't-"

"I'm just teasing you. Good lord, you're wound up."

"I didn't cause a student to faint on my first day."

"That's called having fun. You should try it sometime."

"What. No. I have. You're making fun of me again. Aren't you?"

"Bingo. Harry was right. American boys are slow," I laugh. To which he just rolls his eyes and finishes the assignment. The bell rings and the majority of the class groans having not completed the assignment. Edward's gone before I finish packing up my belongings. Which is just as well. I need a moment to digest the situation. At least I had a pretty good idea of who, or should I say what my employers wanted me here for. Now the question was, why? No matter. Observation is the first thing at any rate. Observe and gather data. And the two girls walking over were a good place to start.

A/N Whew. Another chapter done. Lemme know whatcha think. or if you have any plot suggestions. I'm making this up as I go along.

Til next time.