A/N: If all goes well, you guys are seeing this on April 27th, 2016. Reminder: Updates are on every Wednesday and Friday, 10AM PST-USA. Now, let's recap: Clara's first day at Forks was mixed, Edward Cullen was a douchebag, and Clara forgets she can't nap correctly. Now, into the trashcan.

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Chapter Two

Edward Cullen was sitting in his seat, which had been for the past week unoccupied. Clara's day was suddenly going downhill. Swallowing her spit, she went to sit in her seat, waving and greeting a few classmates along the way. Maybe he wouldn't be as mean this time? Did lighter eyes mean that he was happy? How did that even work?

I mean, reincarnation happens, so…

Sitting down softly, Clara started to boot up her computer, intending to start working on the microsoft assignment that had been assigned last Friday. Her experience meant that she was halfway done already and would hopefully finish by the end of class with time to spare.

Clara had just opened up the file, with all it's pretty colors and fonts, when she was startled into jumping.

"Hello," said a musical voice.

Fuck he was talking to her. Why was he talking to her? She stared at him, fingers poised over the keyboard. He wasn't even glaring! What the hell? She hadn't actually thought he'd be nice to her!

What did I do to deserve this? she thought to herself, trying to figure out if this was a good thing or not.

"My name is Edward Cullen," he said after a moment of her simply staring in shock. "I didn't have the chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Clara Swan."

Her mouth opened to answer - and then closed. Opened - and then closed.

Finally she found her voice. "Y-yeah, it's all good, dude. I feel ya. Nice to meet ya."

He smiled, small and with no teeth, speaking softly. "What did I miss?"

Clara swallowed again, and gestured to her screen. "We're doing an assignment of creating a flyer on Microsoft Word. It's pretty easy, but it's due this Friday."

He leaned closer, only a few inches, to stare at her screen. It was enough to send the still-floral smell of his shampoo in her direction and she blushed, looking away. She desperately wanted to be both closer and far, far away from Edward.

"You seem to have the hang of this," he mused. "Thank you for telling me."

Clara decided not to mention the fact that his eyes were a light golden color. As the class progressed, not even five minutes in, Edward was speaking again. Clara was weirded out, but drawn in as well.

"It's snowing," he murmured, looking out the window. "Must be different in Phoenix?"

Clara shrugged slightly, glancing out the window while still typing, a skill long-developed both in this life and her last. "I can't wait to get out there. I haven't seen snow in ages."

"You didn't like the heat?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and suddenly locking eyes with her as he turned back: Clara realized she'd been staring as she typed and flushed, looking back at her screen. She'd made three typos.

"Not really, but it was alright," she said.

He sounded confused as he spoke. "Then why did you leave?"

"Because I love Forks," she answered, cracking her neck. Edward twitched at the noise. "And my mother got remarried. She wanted to travel."

"Do you not like him?" Edward was honestly curious, but this was more information than Clara had told anyone in this school yet.

"No, Phil's great. He's a baseball player, minor league," Clara grinned, remembering his enthusiasm for the sport she'd never been good at. "I just wanted what made both of us happy."

There was a sad twinge to her voice, though, as she knew what would have made them happier. Bella waking up.

"It doesn't sound like you're happy," he pushed, and Clara felt a flare of irritation. Bella… Bella was a sensitive topic to her.

But she had made the assumption that Edward Cullen was an asshole, when apparently he'd been just having a rough day. And now Clara felt like the asshole. He deserved his answers, grudging though she was to give them.

"The only thing that would make us happier is if my sister Bella woke up," she rushed out. "She got hit by a car when we were ten. She's been comatose since."
"I'm sorry," he said, and Clara felt like he was genuinely sorry for bringing up bad memories. "It must be hard."

Clara nodded, thinking upon the years she'd gotten with her sister, the fact that her comatose state was Clara's own fault. "You have no idea… Either way, I write her letters. It almost feels like one day she'll wake up and all I'll have to do is let her read them and it'll have been like she was there all along, just away on a trip." Then she laughed, quietly. "Bella would have hated to live in Forks. She hated the cold and wet."

The conversation tapered off as Clara became lost in her memories. She could imagine Bella being here, hating the weather, but still awake. Her brown eyes would actually be open. It was something Clara could only ever dream of, it seemed.

In that split second, Clara wanted to die. She wished that she had died when she was fifteen and tried to commit suicide; she wished she'd died at seventeen in her last life, when she was hit by the semi-truck. She felt the acute need to slit her throat, to throw herself off a building, to step right into traffic again…

Clara took in a deep breath and forced herself to think about everything she would miss if she gave in to these impulses. Everything that would happen to the people around her. Life was, well, not amazing fantastic, but it was good. Great, even.

Class ended a moment later, and Clara stared at the screen as Edward disappeared as fast as he had on Monday, wondering where the time had gone.

She drifted through the snow filled parking lot, and found her mood slowly lifting as she was drug into a snowball fight with Eric and Angela. When she her way into Chemistry, she still had snow in her hair, but her depressive mood was gone and there was a flushed smile on her face.

And then Jessica accosted her for lunch, whispering furiously in her ear.

"Is it true? Do you have a twin sister who's in a coma?"

And like that, her good mood evaporated.

Edward wouldn't have gossiped. He didn't seem the type to even talk to someone normally, let alone spend enough time with someone to drop the juicy goods. Unless that had been his plan all along - some people could fake friendliness to get in the know and then ruin someone. It was the plot and strategy behind most assassinations: the one you least expect.

But no, she'd only just realized he wasn't an asshole. She'd give him a chance. It was much more likely that someone had overheard her talking to Edward, probably spurred on by the fact that she was talking to Edward, and gossiped about what they'd heard. And now everyone knew.

"Yeah," Clara said, and felt her stomach flip. "I… I don't feel so good. I'm gonna go to the Nurse."

When she got there, she feigned a stomach bug and had the Nurse give her a pass to go home. She got into her car by the time passing period ended and lunch truly began, and even passed the Cullens on the way to her truck. She waved at Edward hurriedly, lips pursed together.

When she got home, she crawled into bed and let herself begin a terrible sleeping schedule once more.

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That night, as Clara got up at midnight and began to get ready for another Tuesday, she noted that it had begun to snow heavily. By dawn, the roads were icy and she had decided to layer a long sleeved black undershirt over her sports bra with a dark red sweat-shirt over it, thicker skinny jeans and fluffy socks.

She made breakfast that morning, eggs and bacon and fresh coffee, feeling in the best mood she'd had all week. Charlie grumbled about her mood, but grinned behind the rim of his mug as he drank his coffee. The two of them worked together to put snow chains on the cruiser and truck's tires, red nosed and cold by the end of it but happily awake.

Clara gave Charlie a hug and a kiss goodbye before heading back inside to ready her bag. She was excited. Excited to see Edward in second period, to talk with him and maybe learn more about him instead of her just spilling her life story.

Her dreams had been a mixture of Bella's brown eyes, teary as she lay on the road at age ten, and Edward's crooked, boyish smile when he forgot to keep it polite. Bella's presence was one she was used to, as was always there when the event was brought up; Edward, though, was a new addition.

Clara was almost scared at how much she was already attached to the beautiful boy after one conversation. One where she had practically over-shared, but he hadn't seemed to mind. In fact, he'd been quite interested.

The drive to school was one filled with hip hop and Clara tonelessly singing along. In this life, she didn't have a singing voice, but that didn't stop her - the fact that she still couldn't rap didn't matter either. She laughed and expertly drove over the icy road. She had managed to last a until February before she died driving after getting her car in July.

When she got out of the car, safely parked in the lot and ready for French, she spotted the Cullens standing around the silver sedan, more than three cars away. And there was Edward, watching her. WIth a grin, she waved, and received a wave back for her efforts. Humming, she went to check if the back tires still had the chains secured, because she'd heard some suspicious cracking while driving, but found them secure.

And then she heard the familiar, terror-inducing screech of tires sliding desperately against the road. A dark blue van was skidding towards me, and the driver looked terrified and was screaming. Clara locked up subconsciously, knowing that doing so only made injuries worse in the long-run but unable to help it. She had not stepped in front of this truck deliberately, hadn't forced her body limp.

She blacked out when something slammed into her, eyes closing a millisecond before-hand. Blacking out was familiar to her as breathing, she knew instantly what had happened when she blinked open her eyes next, her head throbbing and her body cold and sore. Once again, Clara had been hit by a car.

But something impossible had happened, because Edward Cullen was leaning over Clara protectively, hands pressed into the side of the blue van and holding it above and away from crushing her body, cursing. With another murmured swear, his hands blurred like a panoramic picture taken wrong, pulling my body out from under the van and letting it fall. Glass scattered as the van groaned, and Clara tried to keep her head clear as she stared up at her savior.

"What the fuck?" she groaned, blinking as Edward swung his gaze to her - he had tucked her into his side and appeared to be checking her for injuries. "I mean, shit, man - you saved my life - but what the actual fuck?"

The familiar cold-hot-exhaustion feeling was growing inside her. She felt the back of her head throb and wondered if she had a twin wound on the back of it from her past life, if it was going to take eleven staples and scar over the course of two months again.

"Clara, stay awake," a distant, musical voice demanded as cold hands cupped her face.

"Wha' 'he fuck," she mumbled instead.

And then she passed out.

ooo0O-O0ooo

When Clara woke up, she was having the new staples in the back of her head checked by a doctor with paper-pale skin, gold eyes, blond hair, and the looks of a fucking God. Like, Eros-level beauty. Better-than-Eros-level beauty. She knew within a single second that this was Dr. Cullen, Edward's adoptive father.

From her drug-hazed mind, she noted that Edward was there, too, sitting in the plastic chair next to Clara. Charlie was nowhere to be seen, meaning she hadn't been asleep very long. Edward looked like he was on the verge of murder, but he had concern shining in his eyes.

Suddenly, she remembered the circumstances of her survival, and mumbled, "What the shit?"

"Miss Swan," Dr. Cullen suddenly greeted, as if he had just been waiting for me to speak. "How are you feeling?"

He had a smile on his face, and suddenly Clara felt like maybe she had died and finally gone to the afterlife. That apparently, the Christian Heaven was real because she obviously faced with an angel. She shook the feeling off.

Whatever the Cullens were, though, was certainly not human.

"Like ah go' hi' by a 'ruck," Clara mumbled, her mouth felt like she had stuffed it full of cotton, and then she clarified with a giggle. "Ah semi-'ruck…"

He was taping gauze to the back of my head, "No wonder, you did just get hit by a van. We're all very glad you're okay."

Clara nodded along, and then winced. "S'good, 'hanks. Edward saved me...however 'he fuck he did 'hat. Don' care. Keep yo secre's."

Her mind was hazy with painkillers.

"Everyone's go' secre's…"

And she was slipping back into oblivion.

When she woke up next, she was in a single patients room, the sky was dark, and Charlie was asleep next to her. His cell phone was out on the table and Clara felt clear-headed enough to grab it and check his last calls; Renée, she noted, as he snored. Of course.

Knowing her mother, she'd be on a plane already. Car crashes in their family, specifically in regards to her and Bella, were never regarded as good omens. (Especially if Clara took into account her past life. Fuck, why was it always car crashes?)

She dialed Renée's number and patiently waited. A near-by clock read that it was nine in the evening.

Renée picked up on the second ring. "Charlie? Has something happened? I knew I should have booked a plane the moment you told me! I'm coming as soon-"

"Mom," Clara breathed in the phone, leaning back into her seat. Surrounded by the patter of rain, Charlie's snores, and her mom's voice… Clara had never felt safer.

"Clara?" Renée gasped, and her voice went further away. "Phil, it's Clara, she's awake, thank god, she's awake. Clara, honey, how are you?"

"As good as I can be," Clara chuckled into the phone. "I'm gonna have some scars, I bet, but that's it aside from bruises. I'm fine."

Renée gave a wet laugh through the phone. "Oh my god, Clara, you have no idea how worried I was. Should I come get you? I can come get you. I'll bring Phil and your favorite blanket."

Clara smiled into her phone, hearing her mother typing. She was probably trying to find a flight already.

"No, mom, it's fine. I'm fine. Don't stop travelling, Dad's gonna take great care of me. I'll call you every day."

She could hear Renée's hesitation. "Oh, but honey… If you're sure…."

"I'm sure, mom," Clara insisted. "One measly van isn't gonna stop Clara Helen Swan. You know that."

She laughed, but it was tinged with sadness, the way car crashes always made the Swan-Dwyer family. "Yeah, honey, you're right. But you had better call me every day until you're all healed! Or I'll come to Forks every day myself!"

Clara laughed. "Of course you would, mom. I love you. I'm gonna be fine, I swear."

"I love you, too," Renée said, and Clara could feel the emotion in her mother's voice. Distantly, she heard Phil echo Renée and she smiled wider. "Now you go back to sleep. I have no doubt that your sleeping patterns are all skewed, it's not good for your chakra…"

Clara nodded, despite being half-a-country away from her mom being able to see it. "Okay, mom. Talk to you later. Bye."

"Bye, love."

Clara ended the call and put the chunky flip-phone back on the table and leaned back into her pillows, content to listen to the rain and Charlie. It was these two things that lulled her back to sleep.

ooo0O-O0ooo

Clara stayed home for two weeks, three days of which beforehand spent in the Hospital. Clara did indeed have a scar across the back of her head, a large one that zig-zagged down from just behind her left ear to the edge of her hair-line in the middle. It constantly ached, the staples hurting with every second. At the end of the two weeks, though, the staples were taken out, she was given pain medication and sent on her way to school again.

During the two weeks, though, Clara had had many visitors. Jessica and Angela and Mike were the forerunners of the list, coming practically every day after school without fail. They filled her in with the happenings of the school, and Jessica did a very thrilling rendition of the crash, but Clara could tell she was jealous of her when Jessica spoke of how Edward had tried to follow her into the ambulance, holding her hand the entire time the paramedics were strapping her up.

Some kids thought Clara had put herself in the situation to try and be with her sisters - others thought Tyler, the driver, had intentionally aimed at her because she rejected a love confession. It was all very stupid, and Clara was thankful none of her friends actually believed such things.

She still had trouble washing her hair by the end of the two weeks, but she had gotten all the blood out of her hair. Putting her hair up with next to impossible, so she wore a blue headband to keep her hair out of her face.

It was time to go back to school, she guessed.

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A/N: Thank you all for such sweet reviews! They keep me going and I love feedback! Updates every Wednesday and Thursday, 10AM PST-USA time! Next update to come Friday, April 29th, 2016!