Hey everyone! I'll make this quick - sorry I haven't uploaded in ages! I've had heaps and heaps of exams but never fear! My last three are this week and then I'm on holidays which I plan on spending on either working my behind off at work and dedicating my other time to this. Please take your time and review - you have no idea how happy it makes me feel!
Enjoy it! Take care and tally ho!

***

"So why do people elect a government?" Mr Kenneth asked the class.

Although I decided that he was my favourite teacher out of the other three I'd had today, I really wished that he would give it a rest for the moment. I hadn't eaten during lunch, except for a quick muesli bar on the run, because the English teacher kept me in, intending on asking about me but someone she was able to mention the life story of herself, her dog and her son. It was a long lunch. And now, last lesson of the day with only about ten or so minutes left and I couldn't wait. After a quick meeting with the sport department after school, my first day at Townsville Grammar School would officially be over.

"No one? Come on people, tell me. Why do people go out to the polling booths every four years?" Mr Kenneth asked frustratingly.

"Because they have to."

The entire class laughed.

"Well, yes, but why else?"

"To get the government that they want into power?" a girl replied nervously.

"Yes, but why that government? What's that government got to do with them?"

"They make the society that the person wants," she answered.

"Yes! The government shapes and makes the perfect society in the eyes of that person."

"Like Utopia?"

"Utopia," I snickered.

"Miss Swan, perhaps you would like to share your opinion with us?"

"Well, I just think that the quest for Utopia is in vain."

"And why do you think that? A perfect society where everyone is equal, where everything is in harmony and there is justice – isn't that a society to strive for?" Mr Kenneth inclined his head in my direction in a curious gesture.

"Something to strive for, maybe. But it doesn't exist. The definition of perfect is biased for every person. Your ideology of the perfect society is no doubt different to mine and that's why there are so many different types of governments and ideologies of what society should be, even though, personally, capitalism isn't a society but rather an economy.

"And anyway," I continued after taking a deep breathe, "whilst the concepts of a Utopian society is something that one can try to ascertain, it's just like communism – idealistic on pen and paper but in the real world where there is terror, human emotions and injustice, it is illogical and irrational," I stated simply.

"Sometimes it can't hurt to try though Bella," a smooth voice countered.

I whirled around and found the source of the voice. It was Edward, sitting a row directly behind me.

Yes. Edward was in my Political class. He was just sitting a seat behind me, completely oblivious to this morning's happenings and it was if none of it ever occurred.

I was elated for that.

But I was also annoyed that he had ignored me. Not even a smile or nod of recognition. Just walked on, straight past me and looking in the other direction when we came in to class. Like I said – it was as if none of it ever occurred.

"When it's an entire nation that you are pulling in the wrong direction than I would think that it does hurt," I argued, maybe a little harsher than what I wanted it to come out due to my annoyance with him.

"But they're not getting pulled in the wrong way – they're striving for something that is very much the opposite of the wrong way. They're striving for equality and justice."

"Maybe not the wrong way but they may as well be getting pulled in the wrong way because instead they are squeezed through loopholes and situations would be thrust upon them that would lead the citizens into standards of living that they have never encountered before and they wouldn't know how to handle it. There would be severe and back-twisting obstacles, so to speak, that would weary out the citizens and they would leave the country and due to lack of support, the whole revolution would probably just collapse with nothing to show but wearied citizens and an entire mess to clean up," I tried to explain. `

"How can you say that the pain wouldn't be worth it in the end? When you have a goal and a dream, you perspire towards it and overcome any obstacles in your path and you reach your goal and you've achieved it. As they say, the ends justify the means," Edward argued.

"I've heard that saying before but personally I don't really believe it."

"And why would that be?"

"I just don't think that pain can be compensated."

"But there's proof of it. Pick up a book and it's there. Harry Potter, the Lord of the Rings; your classics - Pride and Prejudice, Oliver Twist; all of your fairytales," he exasperated.

"I hardly think that Charles Dickens wanted to convey a theme that told the readers that the ends justify the means. Oliver Twist went through the very worst situations and came out in the end a happy boy with a newly reclaimed family, it is true; but Dickens knew exactly the kind of life that he was describing and putting his characters through – he'd been there himself. He had worked in the workhouses at a young age to try and support his family and get his father out of debt.

"But as an author, he was objective as consequence of breathing life into three dimensional figures that he had been watching develop and employed his time constructing and imagining. As an author, it could be fair to say that he became like a father to them and it would be only fair to put them to rest where they receive their dues. If not, then I do not think that Dickens would have slept well at all.

"As for Pride and Prejudice, that was just all twisted up with Elizabeth and Darcy's pride and an entire case of miscommunication. And, well, fairytales – need I say more?" I laughed.

Edward smiled minutely but then frowned at me.

"You don't believe that people will get their justice for their sins and deeds?" he asked.

"Depends on what is your definition of justice? Some countries have capital punishment and some don't. The countries that do have it are reprimanded for it because it goes against the UDHR where it is declared inhumane to take someone's life away and serves nothing but injustice. But then you have to consider the number of human lives that were lost or could have been lost for their crimes. One life to try and compensate for all those lost."

"'An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind'," Edward quoted sourly.

I sighed.

"I agree with you there. But, just let me try and get you to understand my view here. A few weeks ago, the three convicted bombers of the 2002 Bali bombings were killed by firing squad. Whilst there was outcry and protests as well as having Amnesty International and governments declaring the executions inhumane, imagine it from rather the point of view of the family of those lost. Imagine watching the news every night and often having to watch reports of those that are responsible for the death of a mother or a son, or even the loss of an arm or leg; and then watching that only of those men, that ruddy sickly bastard, always smiling contentedly and wish for their death. If those men didn't get executed, then how could those families live, knowing that somewhere out there is the murderer of your loved one; knowing that they are still alive and breathing yet your loved one is dead – how could you live with that?"

Edward leaned back in his chair. He seemed deliberating.

I looked around and noticed that the entire class had turned silent and watched our little debate.

"I can see your point there and I accept that view. I am torn between sides now," he admitted, frowning.

"Wow. I think, Miss Swan, you have just done the impossible," Mr Kenneth announced in awe.

"What?" I asked confused.

"You have just swayed Mr Edward Cullen from his views and he is now sitting on the fence. A remarkable day indeed," Mr Kenneth laughed. "You'd better watch out Edward, I think you've met your match."

"We'll see sir," Edward replied but was looking at me, smiling. "We'll see."

I returned the smile and turned around to face the front.

"Okay, umm, where were we?" the teacher walked over to his desk and picked up a piece of paper. As soon as he seemed to start talking, the bell rung. The teacher sighed. "Why is it that my lessons never quite turn out like I planned?" he exasperated.

The students chuckled at the teacher's frustration and packed up their belongings. I followed suit but went up to the front of the class to the teacher.

"I'm sorry, sir, for disrupting your class," I apologised.

"Don't be Bella. Indeed, class discussions are encouraged. It's just more than often we get carried away, but at least it's never boring. And I dare say that it's going to get a bit more interesting with you," he smiled. "You will do great things Bella."

I laughed.

"Gee no pressure then."

"Welcome to Townsville."

"Thanks sir. See you later."

I made my way slowly out of the classroom and around the corner. I was quite proud that I had managed to have survived the whole day without hurting my knees any further. In fact, I had gotten use to walking somewhat handicapped such that, whilst looking a tad demented, I could walk with some dignity.

That was, of course, until I turned the corner and ran into a solid figure.

I didn't see them until the last possible moment. Since I couldn't stop my momentum, I tried to deviate around the person but I was too close and clipped them on the shoulder while my foot drove into the figure's and I plunged downwards.

I braced for the impact, cursing my luck whilst closing my eyes and holding my hands out.

The impact didn't come; rather two strong arms encircled my waist and held me up. I gasped in shock and stayed like that, suspended mid-flight, until I felt myself pulled vertically.

I shook a little bit on my feet but the hands remained around my waist to support me. And even when I found that my knees could support me again, the arms stayed there.

I looked up to my saviour of my knees and found myself staring into all too familiar dazzling green orbs.

I looked down at his hands again then back up at his face. Edward's face flickered with embarrassment and guilt as I felt the hands quickly, yet hesitantly, free my waist.

He cleared his throat.

"Do you have a habit of falling over?" His eyes were wickedly amused.

"Oh shut it! I was merely distracted. Being in a new place, meeting new people and a whole new routine is quite overwhelming, I'll have you know," I said defensively. Besides, who just stands around a corner – anyone could come charging towards them!

"Uhuh," he shrugged. "Whatever you say Bella. But I've met two year olds who walk more gracefully than you."

My eyes narrowed and my jaw tightened. At my side, I could feel my fist clenched.

I frowned, internally, at myself. I was normally a non-violent person.

And I will not allow him to get to me.

I did my equivalent of storming away from him, which probably made the opposite effect of what I wanted, for I felt Edward's voice and hand around my wrist stopping me from going any further.

"Wait! I'm sorry," he apologised. "Not that it isn't true," he muttered to himself, smirking.

I glared at him.

"Do you mind? I think you've insulted me enough."

"Right. I'm trying to apologise here aren't I?" he muttered to himself again. He looked up at me. "It's not really working is it?"

"No, it really isn't."

"Okay. I am sorry and in future, will keep such observations to myself," he said slowly and sincerely.

"Oh gee thanks. How considerate of you," I cried sarcastically.

He flinched.

"Sorry, sorry. I don't know. I'm not normally like this, believe me," he pleaded.

"Like what?" I frowned, confused as to what we were talking about now.

"Rude. I can normally keep my mouth shut." He scratched the back of his head.

"So you don't normally insult people about their obvious lack of co-ordination as well as ignore them like you've never seen them before when they're new to the school and in your same class?" I asked hotly.

"I'm sorry about that. I – I didn't mean to ignore... actually, no that would be a lie. But I didn't mean to offend you or anything, believe me."

"So you admit that you did ignore me?" I asked pained.

"Yes," he sighed.

"Why?"

His eyes flickered down to the ground and when they met mine again, they were pained and remorseful.

"Seeing you brought back some memories that I've been thinking about all day. I... I was scared, I guess, that it was probably not long ago that I looked like you. I don't mean to be insulting but I recognize that exact same look that I saw on my face every time I looked in the mirror. I see the false smile, the lack of sleep, lack of energy; the lack of life. It frightened me, and I'm sorry but I didn't want to see you because I didn't want to be reminded of it." His frown deepened and his face contorted in pain. "You have no idea how hard I worked to get over it. I just thought that seeing you again would bring all of that back and I am just too busy with school and everything to have another emotional crisis.

"So I ignored you back then in class. But not once did I think about what happened, even though I was staring right in your face, arguing mind you. And Mr Kenneth wasn't lying when he said that I don't waver from my opinion. I am stubborn. What you did made me realize that maybe we could make could be friends. You're smart and witty and funny and I think I would be an idiot if I held my own problems against you and a possible friendship," he shrugged. He continued more softly, "I can help you also, maybe."

I didn't know what to say after that.

I was surprised by both his honesty and his confession.

"I understand... I think. Thank you."

He frowned at me.

"For not giving up on me, I guess. I think I need a friend, or would at very least like one," I smiled.

He smiled in return.

"Wow. I really am not like this either," he said surprised.

"I'm lost again," I admitted, confused at the sudden conversation change.

"I'm not really this open and honest with strangers. Wow. You seem to be bringing out the best and worst things in me Bella," he frowned. "I wonder why that is."

My breath stopped in my throat as his eyes gazed intently in my own. It felt like he was staring right through me, piercing my soul.

'Piercing my soul'? Can you hear yourself girl? You just met the guy!

I didn't know how I was able to but somehow I managed to conjure up an able amount of self-will – oh how I wanted to stay lost in those eyes – and pull myself out of the trance. I pulled away and looked up at his face again, moments later, to find his face blank.

I needed to lighten the atmosphere.

"Sorry?" I tried.

He laughed and shook his head.

"I'll catch you tomorrow Bella," he called over his shoulder as he walked down the corridor.

Now, if I could get my heart pumping again then I need to find where the gym is.

*****

"Hah! Yeah, see how you like that eh?"

I was walking through the gym, after receiving a brochure about extra-curricular activities available at the school, when I heard someone growling some threats, followed by some grunts. It sounded like there was a fight.

Whilst my initial response was to run away, I thought that maybe I should just check it out, to see what exactly was happening.

I took a deep breath and timidly followed the sounds. I nervously rounded the corner, and there, in front of me, was a rather large red boxing bag getting pounded by an even larger person.

"I'm gonna getcha. Yes you. You don't stand a chance. Gonna pound you to a pulp, and then, I'm gonna-- wah!" it seemed that he finally noticed me. His eyes widened in surprise at me and then a tinge of pink flowed into his cheeks. He cleared his throat. "Um... just doing some off season training," he mumbled.

"Nah that's cool. Just heard someone threatening someone and just wanted to see if everything was okay," I laughed.

He chuckled, too.

"Well, what can I say? I get a little carried away sometimes."

"Hey, don't stop. But do you mind if I watched?" I asked.

"Umm, sure that'd be fine. Not use to having an audience, let alone a female one. I'll try to keep it PG eh?" he grinned cheekily.

I chuckled and shook my head.

I stood in the doorway and watched him for a while. It was quite contradicting watching him. Whilst it was hilarious to hear his mutterings, he obviously had skill and performed moves fervently that quite amazed me.

"Do you reckon you could show me a few stuff?" I asked after ten minutes.

I didn't know why I asked and it was something that just slipped out without me thinking about it.

I was shocked at what I asked and was hoping that he hadn't heard me.

Not a chance.

Luck is really against me today, isn't it?

"You wanna box?" he huffed, stopping, out of breath, in between a follow-up kick from a punch.

"Not box. Just, how to defend myself like punching and kicking and stuff."

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Bella. Bella Swan," I responded.

"Swan, eh? Wouldn't happen to be related to good ol' Chief Swan?"

I sighed. "Yes, I'm his daughter."

He laughed. "Great bloke. Me and him haven't gotten to know each other over the years."

I raised my eyebrow.

"Well, I can't happen that I get a little passionate at times and people find it intimidating when I do," he shrugged while he scratched the back of his head.

I laughed and shook my head. Again. I seemed to be doing that quite a lot around him.

"So how come the police Chief's daughter wants to learn how to defend herself? Most guys get scared off with the whole 'my dad's got a gun' thing," he laughed.

"Dad's aren't always around though, are they?"

"Umm... alright. Well, come here." I walked closer, standing next to him, locking at him expectantly. "I guess, first, I'll show you how to make a fist. Okay, now hold out your hand."

For the next hour, the boy, who I found was called Emmett, taught me a variety of punches, as well as some defense tactics. He demonstrated some kicks as well but I gave up trying to do them – my knees screamed at me when I tried. That and the fact that I fell straight on my arse every time I tried. Of course Emmett thought it was hilarious every time but he would always be the gentlemen and help me back up again.

Before I knew it, it was five thirty and the groundsman came in saying that he was locking up.

"So you said this was off season training. There's a season for boxing?" I inquired whilst we walked out of the gym.

"Oh no. I don't do boxing. That's just for training and warming up for matches. Nah, I play rugby league."

"Ergh! League. How despicable!" I groaned.

"Hey! It's awesome I'll have you know," he said defensively.

"You're kidding me. It's hideous. It's just large, burly blokes bashing into each other, repeatedly, when they're not too busy playing tiptoe around the opposition and passing the parcel," I muttered sarcastically.

"I'll have you know there is more to it than that. It takes a lot of skill and tactics," he shot back.

"Tactics," I snickered. "'Oh, hmm... how best to shove and tackle that large bloke and try not to break my neck?'"

"Oi!" he fumed. He suddenly stepped in front me on the pavement, blocking any further movement.

"Now, AFL however – that takes a lot of skill and tactics."

It was his turn to snicker. "GAY-FL."

"Oi!"

"Touchy are we?" he chuckled.

"Yes! AFL is a very skillful and enjoyable sport which, unlike league, focuses on actual tactics and athleticism rather than bashing the crap out of the opposition," I defended.

"It just looks like a whole bunch of men passing the soap," he commented.

"And how, exactly, is that any different to league?" I asked sweetly.

"Okay, good point. Let's call it a truce for now then eh?" He held out his hand and I reached to take it. His massive hand encompassed mine. "Woah, your hands are puny Bells," he chuckled.

"Gee thanks," I muttered.

Emmett stepped back alongside me as we walked along the pavement to the end of the street.

"Well I'm turning left here Bells," he announced when we reached the end.

"And I'm veering right so I guess I'll see you around," I smiled.

"You betcha. You've got a mean punch there happening and I wouldn't mind staying on your good side," he admitted. I blushed.

"We'll see shall we?"

"See you."

"Bye."

I turned right, smiling to myself. I was imagining all of the best things in the world that would be awaiting me through my front door. A nice banana smoothie, a hot, relaxing bubble bath and I could whip up some spaghetti bolognaise.

I didn't know which part of my body was celebrating more – my stomach or my knees.

I sighed heartily and would've ran home if not the problematic situations that usually happen when I performed such activities.