So glad you guys didn't think chapter two was crap. Thank you for all the amazing reviews. And to those lurkers out there, yeah, I do the same thing. I can hardly fault your reticence.

Thanks to Kay Cannon for taking me under her magnificent beta wing and Amethyst Jackson for the love and encouragement - H/Hr forever AJ!

This is dedicated to anyone who has been forced to play Electric Fence. God bless you!

Chapter 3 - I Don't Like Mondays

I had gotten home around 4pm on Sunday and fallen into a comatose state shortly thereafter. I woke up at 10pm with my mouth and throat damn near devoid of moisture; like an idiot, I didn't think to rehydrate after my embarrassing adventure in the desert. Now I had a pounding in my temple that felt like someone was driving a railroad stake through my head. To my delight, it throbbed in time with my hand.

With great care, I managed to roll out of bed and brace myself against the wall until I felt steady on both legs. I shuffled to the kitchen, thankful to find that Mom had been shopping and now there was a two liter bottle of 7-Up in the pantry. I filled a glass with ice before pouring myself a drink and popping in two more Tylenol.

"Sweetie, you're up?" my Mom called from the living room. I could hear her coming towards the kitchen. "I thought for sure you'd be out for the rest of the night. How was your convention?"

I sipped some more 7-Up over the sink before putting my glass down and turning around.

"Oh honey, what happened?" she asked. Then she took one look at me before wrapping me in a hug.

"Nothing, Mom, I'm fine," I muttered into her shoulder.

"You are not fine, Bella!" She smoothed my hair down, repeatedly. It was a simple gesture, but so calming that I sighed into her embrace. "What happened?"

"I just had a bad weekend, that's all. And I'm not feeling too well." She pulled back to look at me, tucking my hair behind my ear. Suddenly, she stopped, her eyes growing wide.

"Well, it doesn't look like it was all bad. Is there something you want to tell me?" she smiled. I cocked my head to the side, puzzled.

"I know you're especially clumsy, honey - you get that from me – but unless you somehow managed to punch yourself in the neck with a pencil in each hand, I think something fairly decent happened this weekend."

I immediately covered my throat, having forgotten the hickeys were there.

"Oh, that," I replied, feeling the creeping blush in my cheeks.

"Yes, that," she teased, waiting for my response.

"Well, um," I hesitated, not certain of what or how much to say, "there was this guy I met. A really nice….gave me his number," I started.

"Looks like you got a little more than his number," she joked.

"Mo-om!"

"I'm sorry, go on."

"This isn't - I mean - these, um…these aren't from him," I stammered.

"Oh," her eyes grew wide, again.

"There's, um… There's this boy that I know, um, from student council…" I tried to be vague. I wasn't entirely sure why, but the fact that Mom actually knew him just added to the humiliation. Hopefully she would think he went to another school. "I've kinda liked him for awhile now, and, well, he finally kissed me. Like, really kissed me, and it was wonderful." I could already feel the tears in my eyes. "But then, it wasn't. He was a real jerk afterwards. I mean, not like, all grabby and stuff, but just...just really mean."

"What did he do?"

I was rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hand, trying to stem the flow of tears.

"He told me he just kissed me as a favor, 'cause I told him I hadn't been kissed before; like it didn't mean anything at all."

She hugged me again. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."

"So, I punched him in the jaw," I mumbled, while sniffling into her shoulder.

"Good for you!" she laughed, hugging me tighter. Then she pulled back, looking me straight in the eyes. "Listen to me, Bella," she said, cupping my cheeks and wiping my tears, "you are a beautiful and intelligent young woman, and I am so very proud of you. You deserve the absolute best, you hear me? Don't ever take that kind of shit from any man. I don't care who it is."

I nodded, trying to believe her.

"Not all guys are jerks, Bella. I know it's hard to believe, but it's true." She smiled. "I know it hurts right now, but it won't always. I promise. And hopefully, this prick - whoever he is - will realize how stupid he was to let you get away."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"C'mon, you want me to fix you something a little stronger? Hot chocolate and marshmallows, maybe?"

I nodded.

"Not much in the world that chocolate can't fix," she said, reaching into the pantry for the box of Swiss Miss. "I even sprung for real marshmallows! Nothing but the best for us girls."

"Mom, could you maybe do me a favor?"

"Of course, sweetie. What is it?"

"Um, I bought this makeup, you know, to cover these," I pointed to my neck, "but, um, I don't really know how to put it on the right way."

"Isabella Marie," she gasped, "how I've prayed for the day you'd finally ask me for makeup advice!"

"Very funny," I deadpanned.

"Don't suppose I could talk you into some mascara while we're at it?"

"No, Mom! You know I don't like makeup!"

"I know, but a girl can dream, can't she?" She sighed.

"Ha ha!"

"Oh, honey, it's not like you even really need it. But, you'd be amazed what a little bit of mascara and gloss can do for your natural beauty."

"I'll take my chances, Mom, but thanks."

After some hot chocolate, meaningless girl talk, and a quick tutorial on proper hickey cover-up, I finally went back to bed.

#~#~#

I'd dreamt about it again, but not in a bad way. There was no nightmare posse of cheerleaders; no rusty chain and bleeding heart. This time there were only the good parts. I could feel the undeniable magnetic pull between us, the sparks that ignited when his lips touched mine. I could feel that perfect thread of energy pulling through me when his mouth gently sucked my neck, and the way I thought I'd combust when I felt his hand graze my breast.

My eyes fluttered open, and I was still wrapped in the warm and rosy glow of after-sleep and arousal. I squeezed my thighs together, feeling that indescribable, giddy clench of muscles that made me want more. I sighed, remembering the way he moaned into my ear, deep and breathy, when I'd kissed his neck.

And then my clock radio went off, squelching with the KZZP morning show. I rolled over, turning the volume down slightly but leaving it on; afraid I'd fall asleep again. I lay there with my eyes closed for another moment, not wanting the memory to slip away.

The radio played its typical morning opening prior to segueing into the raining piano strains of the Boomtown Rats. Bob Geldof sang the opening lines before hitting the chorus.

"Tell me why I don't like Mondays. I wanna shoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oooot the whole day down."

Oh God, it was Monday.

I could do this. I could face him. Admittedly, it would be all too easy to tell Mom I was still feeling sick. I was sure she'd let me stay home, but that would just delay the inevitable. I wanted to believe the hardest part was over. I'd made it home yesterday, cooped up for hours on end in the same van. Even with my less-than-impressive display, I'd gotten through it. At least at school there'd be more distractions.

'The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step,' I thought, summoning up some Confuscius to start my week. My first step took me straight into the bathroom, my morning routine, and the judicious spot-and-blend application of concealer to my neck.

I reached into the dish on my vanity that held my bus tokens, then remembered I'd have to take two today. I'd probably be taking two from now on, come to think of it. One of the little things I'd lose along with our friendship would be the free rides home. It was a small price to pay, really, but another painful little reminder all the same.

All too soon, I was on the bus, then off the bus, then crossing the campus.

I can do this, I can do this, I chanted in my head.

My stomach was in knots, but I refused to let it get to me. I walked into English class and took my seat. Once I had established friends at this school and felt comfortable talking in classes, I had given up my need for a front row seat. Today, I was seriously regretting that decision.

We didn't really have assigned seats, but everyone pretty much sat in the same place on a daily basis. It wasn't like I could switch seats without being completely obvious. It was strange to think that just a few days ago I was happy that Edward sat right across the row from me.

Now I felt nothing but dread.

I hung my backpack over my chair, pulled out my copy of The Stand, and tried to lose myself in Stephen King until the bell rang.

Unfortunately, my innate Edward radar was still completely functional. I could feel the writhing knots in my stomach when he came into the room, and my arms broke out in goosepimples when he sat down. I refused to look at him, and thankfully he didn't try to talk to me.

Soon enough, the bell rang and Mr. Berty began with attendance.

"Here," I heard Edward respond when his name was called. I didn't realize how sad and tired one word could sound.

I didn't care.

I didn't want to care.

I did my best to focus on the lecture and the reading assignment throughout the class. The minutes ticked by, but the more I concentrated on my actual schoolwork, the stronger I felt. When we were given the last few minutes of class to chat and collect our things, I simply pulled my book out again.

Poor Nadine was cruising to her doom on a Vespa through the desert when I heard his voice.

"Bella?"

In that split second, it felt like a dozen things happened. I was pulled from the safety of my book into the harsh reality of my life. The eggshell-thin armor I had built cracked immediately, and I could feel that gaping hole between my ribs pull wind like a sucking chest wound. I had to fight like hell to suppress a sob and my nose prickled with the threat of tears.

So much for being 'fine'.

One word - that's all it took for him to reduce me to an absolute wreck. I drew in a deep and shaky breath, trying to calm down. I could see my fingers, splayed and trembling in the pages of my paperback. I closed the book and clutched it tightly in my hands before turning my head in his direction.

"What part of leave me the fuck alone did you not understand," I hissed, before fixing him with a glare. I could see him visibly flinch; his expression was both shocked and hurt. I turned away from him, quickly grabbing my backpack and thankfully reaching the doorway just as the bell rang. It took me a couple of minutes to completely blink away the tears that were begging to streak down my face. I'm not certain how but, by the time I reached trig, I was alright again.

Three more classes, I thought. I only have three more classes with him to get through. I never would have thought I'd consider trigonometry a reprieve from my problems, but it gave me the time to prepare myself for the rest of my day. Spanish was next, but we were seated alphabetically in that class.

Thank God for the four row divide between C and S!

We usually walked together from Spanish to student council, but Emmett was in that class, and somehow I was certain that Edward was more than happy to keep our little falling out just between us. That would be the hardest class to get through. With everyone on burnout from the convention, I'm sure that Mr. G didn't have anything remotely taxing planned out for us. Lunch would be easy, as I could sneak off to the library or computer lab without raising too many questions. History also had Emmett in it, and I would cling to that big teddy bear like a life preserver, if need be, until seventh period chemistry.

Three more classes. I sighed, dreading the bell.

I made a quick stop in the bathroom on the way to Spanish class, splashing water on my face and making sure not to wash away my cover-up. I dabbed at my cheeks with a paper towel and passed two girls on my way out.

"I wish this week was over already," one said to the other.

You and me both, sister!

Spanish was blessedly uneventful, and I blew out of the room and practically sprinted to student council once the bell rang. I only managed to trip once, but caught my balance before sprawling into the hallway and becoming teenage road kill.

"Hells, Bell! You're looking a lot better today," Emmett greeted me.

"Oh please, the walking dead would look better than I did yesterday." I sighed, throwing my backpack on the desk before flopping into my chair. I put my head down, not looking forward to the next hour.

"Hey guys, everyone up. Shove the desks out of the way. We're doing team building today!" Mr. G's statement was greeted with enthusiasm, as team building was pretty much code for play time. The slew of team building exercises we'd done before seemed more like summer camp games, and I hoped that it would take my mind off of things.

Edward arrived just as we'd cleared the floor. He threw his bag in the back corner and I couldn't help but spare a glance at him. He was wearing a green turtleneck and, by the looks of things, I'd guess that Alice had worked her magic on him. I doubt anyone would notice, but I could see the faint difference in skin tone along his jaw. I don't know what kind of makeup she used, but his bruising was almost invisible.

Damn, I wonder how much damage I did, I thought, disappointed that I never got to see just how big a bruise I left.

Nice to see this situation had really brought out my maternal side.

"Alright, everyone into classes. We're gonna get some friendly class competition going here!" Mr G. rubbed his hands together with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Tyler, Eric, go get the two ladders and the spirit pole.

There were groans from the upper classmen, myself included.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you Mr. G?" I joked, given our conversation the day before about my lack of coordination.

"Oh Bella, you wound me! Besides, I'm sure your classmates will take ample care of you."

"C'mon Bell, you know I'll catch you. We got this thing down to a science!" Emmett threw his arm around me in response.

I sighed, in resignation, seeing Tyler and Eric setup the ladders and duct taping our school spirit pole along the tops. They formed a perfect little frame, each ladder reaching six feet high with the pole bridging the seven foot gap between them.

"As I'm sure you've all heard by now, our delegation knocked them dead this weekend and snagged next year's convention away from Tucson and Tempe!" An enthusiastic cheer rose from the whole group, myself included. "And as I'm sure you all know, being able to pull off such a feat - both by our performance this weekend and what we'll have to do next year - requires an unprecedented amount of teamwork. That's why we're breaking out the team builders today. Not the ice breakers, but the real hardcore stuff. This is not a Do You Like Your Neighbor kind of day. Nope, we're bringing out the big guns!" He clapped his hands and then frantically rubbed them together. All he needed was a white cat and he'd look like a Bond villain. "We're gonna start our Monday off with a little Electric Fence!"

I hated Electric Fence - despised it, actually. I shared a knowing look with Rebecca, the senior class vice-president. While I detested this activity because of my severe lack of motor skills, she couldn't stand it because it always brought attention to her weight. Even though she was popular and fairly well-liked, it didn't change the fact that she was easily 180lbs. This one particular team builder had a way of playing upon both our insecurities.

She stuck her finger in her mouth, making a gagging motion. I pantomimed myself in a noose.

"For those of you not familiar," Mr. G explained, "the rules of the game are simple. Get your team from one side of the fence to the other without touching the pole going across the top.

"We're gonna do some time trails and see which class can do it the fastest, and the safest, people! Just to cut my underclassmen and first years a break, we're gonna go oldest to newest, just so you can see how it's done. Student body officers, you're up, then the seniors, juniors and so on. Chop, chop!" He clapped his hands, again, and pulled out his stopwatch. We watched the seven student body officers line up on one side of the 'fence' and they started nodding and pointing at one another, figuring out a plan of attack.

"Go!"

With almost fluid grace, they vaulted Tyler, their biggest guy, over the fence. Getting that first player over was usually the second hardest part of the exercise. Soon enough the guys were lifting the three girls over the pole to Tyler, who helped them over one by one. Then it was a group effort as the two remaining guys lifted the third over, and the team body surfed him across the divide. The second to last guy put his foot in the interlocked hands of his remaining teammate and hoisted himself over which left Mike, the last player, on one side.

This was the hardest part.

He backed up a ways, then took a running jump at the pole. If he could manage to get his torso high enough, the other guys could grab and lift him the rest of the way.

It was a smart thing leaving Mike for last. He was on the track and field team and held the current school record for the high jump. He barely needed a steadying hand as he cleared the pole.

"Alright people, that's how it's done!" We heard the clicking of the stopwatch. "Not bad. Two minutes flat. That's the record to beat. Seniors, let's see what you've got!"

The senior class officers repeated the exercise, but not nearly as quickly. I felt a ridiculous amount of sympathy when Rebecca got vaulted and body surfed over. The team wasn't nearly as graceful getting her feet back on the ground, either underestimating her weight or underestimating how much support they each needed to offer. She made it over the pole easily enough, but was nearly dropped on the other side. Ever the trooper, she immediately righted herself and jumped back in to help the next person across.

"Two twenty! Second place for the seniors. Juniors, you're up!"

We took our places in front of the class, already knowing that Emmett was going to be the first one over. He was easily the biggest and strongest one of our bunch. As soon as our time began Edward and Eric - the Half-a-Bee – each knelt and locked hands for each of Emmett's feet while Ben spotted his torso. The guys pushed up and Em jumped and landed with an impressive and graceful thud on the other side. Edward was the second strongest of our group, so he vaulted the other two guys over. We seemed to be moving at a fair clip - I could see us being the team to beat. Angela went next, which left only me.

At least it would be quick and I wouldn't have to talk to him.

I stepped up and placed my foot into his hands, then made the mistake of looking at him. Our eyes locked and just seeing him like that, knelt before me and looking so earnest and repentant—it made me wish I could forget everything and just go back to what we had. It had been far from uncomplicated and, yes, it was nothing but suppressed pain to some degree on a daily basis, but at least I still had our friendship. I had the one thing I knew I was capable of having with him.

Now I had nothing.

I leaned forward to place my hands on his shoulders, steadying myself for the vault. As soon as my palms touched him, it all became one massively embarrassing blur.

Our gazes were still fixed when I felt it – as soon as we touched it was like a circuit connecting. Exquisite energy sparked between my hands and his shoulders and I could feel my skin tingle everywhere. I gasped in surprise, not only because of what I felt, but because at that same instant his eyes grew wide, as if he felt it too.

Desperate to break the connection, I used too much enthusiasm to spring into the jump. Unfortunately, Edward seemed to be just as frantic as I was and overcompensated the amount of energy he used to vault me forward. Off balance, I was thrown at an outward angle, and I heard the click of his jaw as my foot connected with his chin.

He fell backwards, the second time in as many days that I somehow managed to knock him flat on his ass. I was worse off, as I flew up and my head and shoulders connected with the spirit pole, knocking over one of the ladders in the process. Luckily, Emmett managed to catch me. Then we both joined the gathering crowd to see how Edward was.

"Oh shit, Edward! Are you okay?" I asked with a shaky breath, forgetting that I wasn't talking to him.

"I think so," he groaned, pushing himself off the floor. He stood up and turned to face us, rubbing his chin. "You okay?" he asked, looking concerned.

But I could barely hear him, my ears were ringing too loudly.

Blood.

On his teeth, on his lips, running down his chin, dripping onto his turtleneck.

"Emmett!" he yelled, and I could feel Em catch me once again as I fainted.

#~#~#

"Hey there, Bell, you with us?"

I struggled to open my eyes, and then blinked them rapidly as I remembered what had happened. I took a tentative sniff of the air, glad to note that the rusted smell was completely gone. Judging from where everyone was standing, I couldn't have been out for more than a minute.

"I have to say, between the puking and the fainting, I'll take the fainting any day," Emmett joked.

"Gee, thanks," I groaned, then looked around the room. "Is he okay?" I whispered.

"Yeah, Garrett sent him out to clean up. I think it was just a cut on the lip - tiny thing, but big bleeder."

"You sure you're okay, Bella?" Angela asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. This isn't nearly as bad as yesterday."

"Yesterday?"

"Bell had a little incident on the drive home," Emmett answered.

"Oh?"

"BLEARGH!" Emmett dramatized.

"Eww!"

"And you know how much I love being the center of attention," I told Angela.

"Oh Bella," she laughed, throwing an arm around me, "it could have been worse. I mean, it's not like you farted in class or something."

"Hey," Emmett defended, "that was one time!"

"Yeah, this year," I teased.

"Fine, see if I catch you next time, Swooning Swan!"

"Please, don't call me that," I moaned.

Edward walked back into the room, wearing a leftover sweatshirt from our student council homecoming fundraiser. His turtleneck was draped over his shoulders like a scarf, his face scrubbed clean. He joined the rest of us in the corner of the room while the class resumed playing a slightly more cautious round of Electric Fence.

He sat down on the floor next to me and I bristled.

"You okay? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw you like that," he apologized.

"Fine. Sorry I kicked you," I replied tersely.

"S'okay," he mumbled.

"Wow, that bruised fast!" Angela exclaimed. I couldn't help but look over at him. His lip was swollen, but it didn't look too bad. However, I could see where I had punched him. He must have forgotten about the makeup when he cleaned up. It wasn't a large mark, but I could make out the impression of two of my knuckles separated by thin white lines in the darkened greenish-yellow skin.

I had to admit, I was a little disappointed.

His fingers drifted to his jaw.

"I, um, bruise pretty easily."

I couldn't help it, a bubble of laughter choked out of me.

Edward turned to look at me, a smirk on his face.

"Alice does pretty good work," I scoffed, nodding towards his jaw. I couldn't resist the twinge of satisfaction I got from goading him.

He narrowed his eyes, still smirking, then looked at my neck.

"So does your mom."

My face flamed red, eyes widening, and I snapped my head forward.

Fucker!

"Ew, Edward. There's still blood on this," Angela said, referring to Edward's turtleneck.

"I tried to rinse it out. I figure my Mom can take care of it when I get home."

"No, not with blood. You have to get it out immediately, otherwise you end up with a dust rag. Here, let me take it over to Miss Irina in Home Ec." She quickly pulled it from his shoulders.

"No, that's okay, really," Edward protested, but he wasn't quick enough. Angela was already on her way to grab a hall pass and head out the door with the offending garment.

"Dude! What. Is. That!?" Half-a-Bee sputtered, and then nudged Ben, while pointing at Edward.

"What's what?" Emmett looked at the two of them. Then he followed Eric's pointing hand. I couldn't help but look as well. Edward actually blushed and he immediately clapped his hand on his neck.

"Aw, don't be like that, Eddie. Share with the rest of the class," Emmett teased. Eric and Ben continued to giggle, like school girls. "It's not like you can walk around the rest of the day like that."

"Dude, he got attacked by a mynock!" Half-a-Bee blurted out, and I immediately pictured the offending creature from The Empire Strikes Back.

A mynock? Those flying things that attach to the Falcon?

Those flying things that attach and suck on the Falcon!

Oh no!

Oh no, no, NO!

"Eddie, don't make me pry that pretty little hand off your pretty little neck!"

Edward sighed, knowing Emmett was right. There was no way he'd be able to walk around covering his throat the rest of the day. Slowly, he lowered his hand.

I gasped. I couldn't help it. Remembering those gross creatures sucking on the glass and how they freaked out Princess Leia... yeah, it actually did look like he'd been attacked by a mynock!

The two marks I had were child's play compared to what was on Edward's neck. It was easily the size of a silver dollar, if not larger. I didn't even realize my mouth could open that wide and still maintain a vacuum seal on his skin. I remembered almost passing out because I'd been sucking so hard. It never occurred to me that I'd left that kind of evidence behind.

The jaw was nothing. This mark—this was something to be proud of!

You know, if you're in to being completely horrified with yourself.

"Holy shit!" Emmett boomed. He tried to keep his voice to a loud whisper, so we wouldn't disturb the rest of the class. Luckily they were paying attention to the other teams, still playing. "Is that for real, or did Alice attack you with the vacuum in the middle of the night?"

"Very funny," Edward responded, rolling his eyes.

"Dude, you the man!" Half-a-Bee said in awe.

"Imagine what the chick must look like," Ben replied. "Please, tell me she was totally hot."

"Please tell me she didn't just suck on your neck!"

"Eric, you're a pig," I spat. I was thoroughly pissed and white as a sheet, horrified to think that they were talking about me like that, whether they knew it or not.

Talking like I was just another one of the big bimbo brigade.

Stupid, naive, inexperienced Bella!

Fuck!

Emmett shot me a sympathetic glance, completely misinterpreting my anger and horror for the same type of freak-out I'd had over Thanksgiving.

"Guys, there's a lady present," Emmett warned.

"What? Swan's no lady," Eric teased.

"You won't think so when I rip your balls off and shove them down your throat!" I snapped back.

"Fuck, Swan," he squeaked.

"And if I hear one crack about PMS, swear to God, I will knock you on your ass!" I stood up, towering over the four of them. They all looked at me with wide eyes, jaws practically on the floor.

"I'm going to lunch!" I growled, grabbing my backpack and storming out the door.

I marched across the quad, cutting my way through the fourth period lunch crowd as I headed toward the library.

I wasn't sure what I was more pissed off about—the fact that they so callously made assumptions about what had happened between Edward and the mystery girl (which, if I was being completely honest, I would have also assumed)—or the fact that I probably would have done a lot more with Edward if I'd been given the chance.

I stopped in my tracks.

God, how far would I have gone?

I'd let him practically get to second base within seconds of that first kiss. We'd escalated pretty damn fast from a kiss, to kissing, to making out, to full on groping. My damn hormones were on a geometric progression when it came to him.

But what if he hadn't stopped us?

I flushed, imagining how much longer, how much more, there could have been—and damned if I didn't have a very detailed imagination.

I would like to think I would have stopped well before my virginity came into question. I mean sure, I was a hormone-riddled teenager, and it was Edward after all, but I wasn't stupid enough to risk being the Katy Browning of 1989.

But there was a whole hell of a lot that fell between kissing and actual penetration.

Would I have let him go under my bra? Take off my bra?

Go below the waist?

I gripped my backpack tighter, excited and slightly scandalized.

I vaguely remembered not touching much of him, but I did get in one ridiculously firm squeeze of his ass... that remarkably squeezable ass of his.

Charmin's got nothing on those cheeks.

I couldn't help but sigh just thinking about it.

What more would I have done to him, if I'd had the opportunity? Would I have become like any one of those nameless girls I had ragged on? An easy mark who'd drop to her knees and suck away?

Gah!

I just could NOT go there!

Still, I had to admit that I had been completely overwhelmed with the newness of it all. I don't think I could have formed a rational thought, much less have stepped away from what was happening.

And yet, it was all too easy for him to stop! No big deal, just another fucking day!

Stupid, naive, inexperienced Bella!

I was going to have that put on my gravestone, or possibly tattooed on my forehead.

I huffed my way into the library just as the bell rang between fourth and fifth period. At least I'd have the entire lunch period to sit and calm down before facing him and any of the myriad comments that would follow. I took a seat as far away from the librarian as possible. Food was an absolute no-no in here, so I was careful to remain stealthy while nibbling on my granola bar. If I had been a more diabolical genius I'd have picked something quieter to eat, but our pantry was lacking in snack items that equaled both decent nutrition and silent consumption.

I'm sure my reaction in the student council room must have raised some questions. I hardly ever raised my voice, let alone threatened to hit someone. I could only imagine what the guys must have thought once I left the room.

Given the truth, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they blamed PMS.

I tried to focus on my book again but it was no use. My mind was adrift as things I didn't want to think about churned in my head and I steadfastly avoided them.

All too soon, the bell rang. With a heavy sigh, I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed off to history.

One more class. One more class.

The library was in the same building as our history classroom, so I was the first one to arrive. I wasn't thinking too kindly on whichever genius decided that trapezoid tables were the optimal seating arrangement for this class. Three people to a table, and I fully intended to have Emmett as my buffer. I headed to the far back corner and grabbed a chair on the furthest end of the table. Within a couple of minutes, I saw Emmett come through the door and head towards me.

"Me and my balls come in peace," he joked, covering his crotch.

I snorted.

"Please Em, everyone knows the steroids shrunk those things to raisins."

"Quite the opposite, in fact. I have to wear support hose just so I can keep my balance. Between that and the wire frame for Not-So-Little-Emmet, I have to practically get naked just to take a piss."

I couldn't help but giggle. Even at my lowest, Emmett always knew how to make me laugh.

"That's more like it, Bell. I'm so glad the mere description of my impressive equipment could bring you joy!"

"Yes, it totally deserves, like, the Nobel Peace Prize or something." I smiled.

"Hey, I'm not asking for much. I mean, at the very least, he deserves an ambassadorship," he offered.

"Who deserves an ambassadorship?" Edward sat down on Emmett's other side. I immediately tensed.

"My junk, of course," Emmett stated proudly. "For bringing nothing but smiles and joy to women around the world!"

"Ri-ight! Women like who?" Edward laughed.

"Women like our little Bell here." He threw his arm around me, squeezing me into his side. I stayed tense, trying not to look in Edward's direction. "Isn't that right, my little Swooning Swan?" he cooed.

I was about to tell him to stop calling me that, but I didn't even get a chance to open my mouth.

"WHAT!?"

We looked at Edward, stunned. He'd practically shouted at us and his face was nearly ashen—his eyes wide as saucers.

Emmett roared with that big booming laugh that I absolutely adored, though I couldn't figure out for the life of me what was so funny.

"I was just brokering a peace treaty for my family jewels before sitting next to Bella Ball Ripper here."

I smacked him playfully before he let me go.

"Besides, she had a rough weekend. She could use a smile or two." He leaned over and pulled out his notebook, as class was getting ready to start. I could feel Edward's gaze burning into my right cheek over Emmett's shoulders.

"Sure, rough weekend," he agreed.

"I mean, did you see this?" he grabbed my wrist and wouldn't let go when I tried to pull it away. "Ten bucks says we either missed an awesome girl fight or some douchebag getting knocked in the dirt."

"Your hand," Edward breathed, miserably.

"It's nothing," I mumbled, yanking my wrist free from Emmett's grasp. "I told you Em, it was a stupid door."

"Aw, that's so cute," he sing-songed back and playfully pinched my cheek. "Little Bell's telling tall tales."

My face burned red.

"If you only knew the power of my bullshit detector!" he mocked, brandishing his fist like Darth Vader.

I folded my arms on the table, throwing my head into the safety of their cocoon.

"I vote for douchebag."

My ears perked up at Edward's voice, but I kept my head tucked safely down.

"Douchebag?" Emmett questioned.

"Oh yeah, total douchebag—a real prick, no doubt. She would never hit anyone who didn't deserve it. The guy must have been a complete and utter asshole." I could hear the veiled apology in his voice and my eyes began to prickle.

Dammit! I would not cry! Not again!

But I wouldn't run either. I'd already had more than my allotted share of dramatic exits for the day. I took a deep breath and sat up straight, feeling that twinge of anger rise up again.

"What can I say? Some guys just don't know when to back the fuck off," I hissed, keeping my voice low enough for just our table.

"Fuck Bell, this isn't about that Indian dude, is it? I'll break his fuckin' face!"

"What?" I turned to Emmett, completely caught off guard.

"What did he do to you?" he growled.

"Oh shit, Emmett, nothing! I swear! This isn't about him," I squeaked, trying to calm him down. Several students were already looking in our direction.

"Seriously Bell? I saw the way he was looking at you. Don't lie to me!" He looked furious.

"Swear! Honest, Em. I promise!" I couldn't help but see Edward behind him. He looked a bit terrified, and I didn't know if it was because he was frightened by the intensity of Emmett's reaction, or what would happen if Emmett found out that Edward was, in fact, the aforementioned douchebag.

"You mean to tell me there was some other guy trying to play grab-ass with you?!"

Oh geez, this was not helping! Where the hell was our teacher anyway?

"Emmett," I pleaded, "not here, okay? You promised not to push?"

"C'mon man, it's Bella," Edward put his hand on Emmett's back, "she can take care of herself."

"How can you be so calm about this shit?" he asked, almost accusing.

We locked eyes over Emmett's shoulder.

"I've seen her right hook. Trust me, it's...devastating."

He tried to hold my stare, but I looked away. Just the tone of his voice had me wavering in my resolve, yet again. He was tugging at that part of me that I hated - the pushover in me that wanted to be his sidekick.

Finally, Mr. Robinson walked into the room, apologizing to the class for his tardiness. I was thankful for the reprieve.

It was easily the most uncomfortable history class I'd ever had. I sat there feeling like my entire skin was covered in static electricity and I was simply waiting for someone to deliver the inevitable and painful zap. I didn't know if it was going to come in the form of another question from Emmett, or another apology or mere attempt at communication from Edward. My nerves were already raw enough as it was, and sitting in morbid anticipation throughout the class was not helping in the least.

However, Emmett remained true to his word and didn't push. Meanwhile, Edward, whether taking pity on me or in a mere act of self preservation, also managed to keep his mouth shut.

I was quite relieved when the bell finally rang.

"Later," Emmett waved to Edward, as we headed towards chemistry.

"Later," he responded, watching us leave. "Bye Bella."

I don't know why, but that did it. Hearing the soft defeat in his voice finally brought forth the tears I'd been holding in all day. I blinked them away as quickly as I could, grateful that Emmett was walking ahead of me. I didn't know if it was some twinge of guilt that had finally made me crack, or just the sheer relief of having survived our last class of the day together. Regardless, I managed to maintain some control over it, and unless someone was paying specific attention, you wouldn't even know that I was crying at all.

I ducked into the girl's bathroom right before we got to class, needing to splash water on my face, once again, to get my wits about me. It had been a long day and it was only inevitable that my coordination would hold out so long. I cupped the water in my hands, throwing it repeatedly on my face. Unfortunately I stood up too quickly, causing water to drip all over my neck and the front of my shirt.

"Aw crap!" I swore, just as the bell rang. "Crap, crap, crap!"

I grabbed a handful of the brown sandpaper that our school passed off as paper towels and scrubbed myself dry. I took another bunch and pressed it into the collar of my shirt, trying to dab up the wet spots. Resisting the urge to tuck a bunch of them in like a bib, I finished up as best as I could and ran to beat the second bell.

"Cutting it close the bell, Bell," Emmett smiled. I hung my backpack on the chair and rifled through it to find my chem notebook. I also unzipped the outer pocket to grab a pencil before sitting down. Slapping my items on the lab bench, I plopped down in my seat.

Emmett was still looking at me, his face frozen in a bizarre rictus of his usual jovial grin.

"What? What is it?" I asked, slowly. "Aw crap, can you see through my shirt?!" I looked down, trying to see if I'd gotten it wet anywhere that could be considered compromising. I brushed the front of my shirt as if my hands suddenly had some magical drying power.

"Naw, um, I mean no, it's fine. You're fine," he choked out.

I gave him a questioning look. Something was off.

"No wet t-shirt contests for you. It just looks like you spit up on yourself," he teased, seeming to recover.

"Yeah, this rack won't be bringing in any money soon, wet or otherwise," I shot back.

I flipped through my notebook to find a clean page to start taking notes on while Emmett did the same. We had a lecture today on exothermic versus endothermic reactions, and the time flew by, as we struggled to keep up. Soon enough, the last bell of the day rang and I gladly packed my things.

"Aren't you coming?" Emmett asked, as he headed out the door. Usually this was where we'd hunt down Edward together and bum a ride home.

"No, um, actually I promised Half-a-Bee a rematch for my board position," I remembered, glad that I didn't have to lie. "Figured I'd best do it now, you know, while he still thinks of me as Bella Ball Ripper!" I gestured with air quotes and grinned. "I'll just catch the bus. See you tomorrow." I waved.

Emmett narrowed his eyes at me, and then shook his head.

"Tomorrow," he said, deliberately, and we both knew what that one word meant.

"Tomorrow," I sighed, nodding my head.

Yes, Em, I promise. I'll spill all of my embarrassing secrets to you tomorrow.

I grabbed my things and ran off to the general science room that hosted Chess Club. At the far end of the hall I could see Emmett and Edward turning towards the stairs.

Sure enough, when I arrived, a thoroughly cautious looking Eric was waiting for me. I smiled, trying to intimidate him further. With all the turmoil going on in my life, it felt good to assert the bitch in me and command this one moment. I may not have control over anything else but, at the very least, I could scare one of my friends and kick his ass in chess.

It's the little things, really.

In less than an hour I had beaten him in two back to back games. I had to admit, despite the intimidation factor I was feeling fairly pleased with myself. Given all the crap I'd had to go through today, it was nice to end it on a high note.

I walked through the mostly deserted parking lot, across the street and to the bus stop. My trusty Walkman and the B-52s kept me in a decent mood on the ride home.

I threw myself down on the couch once I got through the door, just letting the relief of the end of the day settle over me.

I'd made it. For all intents and purposes, Monday was over, and I'd only sort of cried once - maybe once-and-a-half.

Tomorrow will be easier, I thought. Just the tiniest bit, but it will be.

I sat up, spying my luggage from the weekend still discarded by the door. Pulling myself up off the couch, I decided I should put my stuff away and do my dirty laundry before it got too rank. I heaved the bags into my room and began sorting the laundry from the toiletries to the paraphernalia.

Shoved in the side pocket of my duffel bag was my convention program. AASC State Convention 1989 - One Step Beyond was pressed in gold lettering on the cover, along with a graphic of footprints. It wasn't the best theme, mind you. Its only saving grace was that it shared a title with a great song by Madness. Our convention would be much better, even if we didn't yet have a theme.

What caught my eye was the black Sharpie scrawl in the bottom corner.

Jake Black - 555-2478 - Go Wolves!

He'd drawn a smiley face next to it.

I couldn't help but smile in return.

Did he really want me to call him? I thought he was just being nice, but he did seem to track me down before we'd left, and he'd even kissed me on the cheek. Granted, I was hardly an expert when it came to guys, but those two things-, - coupled with the fact that he'd been my almost-first-kiss - did make me think that maybe, just maybe, he could actually be interested in me.

Guess there was only one way to find out.

Taking a deep breath, I picked up the phone.

...and hesitated.

I got that twinge, again. That horrible feeling of guilt, as if I were doing something wrong.

As if I were cheating!

"Dammit!" I slammed the phone down, and this time the tears easily sprang forth. But at least they were angry tears. Those I could deal with. All I had to do was remember his words; remember that cold, dead look in his eyes.

'There's your experience.'

Well fuck him! Fuck him and the bullshit romantic ideal I had of him! That boy didn't exist, and if he didn't exist, then I sure as hell didn't belong to him!

I picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hello," a deep, gruff voice answered.

"Hi. Is, um, Jake there?"

"Speaking! Who's this?"

"Um, it's Bella. Bella Swan. We, um, met this weekend..."

"Bella! You called!" I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah."

"Decided to hear about the merits of ASU after all, huh?"

"Are you kidding? I'm no Sun Devil! Wildcats all the way." I grinned, falling effortlessly into conversation with him.

"Wildcats? How dare you bring the red and blue into this! It's all about maroon and gold, baby!"

"You did not just call me baby!"

"You did not just choose U of A over ASU!"

"Any sane person would."

"That's debatable, Miss Swan. It's lucky for you I'll be studying psychology. That way, I can judge your sanity for myself."

"With a quack degree from Party School USA? I don't think so!"

We easily bantered back and forth, chatting about anything and everything, until I realized it was nearly 6:00. We'd been talking non-stop for nearly two hours.

"Oh crap, Jake, I gotta go. My Mom will be home soon and I haven't even started on my chores."

"No worries, Bella. I'll just have to call you next time."

"Are you fishing for my number, Mr. Black?"

"Actually, I'm fishing for a date, but your number's a good start. What are you doing on Saturday?"

I blushed. Just earlier I'd been wondering if he had anything more than polite interest in me, and now he was asking me on a date. A real date!

I felt that twinge again, and immediately smashed it down.

"I don't know. What are we doing on Saturday?" I smiled, glad for my sudden burst of confidence.

"Actually, I had something pretty intense in mind, but you might not be up for the kind of challenge I'm about to throw down."

"Oh really; and what kind of challenge is that?"

"Miniature golf. But, I'll warn you. I hit a pretty mean ball through a windmill."

"Well, I'll warn you. I'm clumsy to the point of accidental homicide with a putter in my hand. You'll play at your own risk."

"I think I can handle myself."

"We'll see about that. I once took out my cousin's front tooth on the hole with the rolling hills."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, well, she had it coming. No one should look that good in pigtails. Lucky for her it was a baby tooth, not that that would have stopped me. I play to win."

"You're on! Should I pick you up around seven?"

"It's your funeral."

I gave him my number and directions to our apartment before finally saying goodbye. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face when I hung up the phone.

I walked to the kitchen and started pulling out items from the pantry. Mom had bought a fresh loaf of French bread and I immediately thought of garlic bread. It seemed like a good night for spaghetti, so I set a pot of water to boil before opening the fridge to see if we had any Ragu, or if I'd have to make the sauce from scratch. Lucky for me, buried behind the Yoplait was a half-full jar of 'Flavored by Meat' next to the parmesan.

I started slicing the bread when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Bella, don't you love me anymore?"

"Alice! Hi! I'm sorry I didn't call you last night. I was totally wiped out when I got home."

As far as I knew, Alice was the only other person in the world who knew how I truly felt about her brother. We talked several times a week, usually so she could grill me about what to expect in high school, and then bitch about whatever new flavor of the month Edward was dating.

She was my one and only true confidant, and I dreaded having to tell her what a prick her brother had been to me. I wondered how long I could keep it to myself, considering Alice had an uncanny knack for knowing everything. As much as I wanted to hate Edward, the last thing I wanted to do was alienate him from Alice or Emmett. For all intents and purposes, they were his and I had no right or desire to come between them.

"I know. I heard about what happened on the way home and, just for the record, gross!"

"Thanks. Like I didn't already know that. Oh, hey, I know a way I can make it up to you."

"Oh?"

"How do you feel about hitting the mall early Saturday?"

"You hate to shop. Why would you torture yourself for me?"

"I need an outfit and, more than that, an honest opinion."

"Okay, I'm in! But forget about all that. Tell me what happened this weekend!"

"Oh, um, not much really. I mean, I can tell you more when I see you on Saturday, but I have to finish making dinner before my Mom gets home."

"Can you at least tell me why my brother looks like a punching bag?"

"Oh, um, I accidentally kicked him in the face."

She laughed.

"Geez, Bella! How did you manage that?!"

"Stupid game we were playing in student council. I kicked him in the face and he threw me into Emmett. Amazing what passes for education these days."

"He's going to be wearing more makeup than me this week, that's for sure. How many times did you kick him?"

Surely she would have known the bruise on his jaw was from the weekend. She'd been the one to disguise it for him. Between that and the cut on his lip, I couldn't imagine what she was talking about.

No way she thought the hickey was a kick in the throat.

I tucked the phone more firmly into the crook of my neck as I started tossing the dinner salad.

"Just the one time, Alice. I wasn't going to let him try throwing me again, after that fiasco."

"Um, just the once?"

"Yeah." I set the tongs down, picking up the bowl to set it down on the table. "I busted his lip and then passed out from the blood. Emmett had to catch me. Not my finest moment." I walked over to measure out some spaghetti before throwing it in the pot.

"Oh." She was oddly quiet.

"Alice?"

"I'm just wondering how he got the black eye."

I stopped, dry pasta gripped in my hands.

"What black eye?"

"He was late dropping off Emmett, and when he got home he had a black eye. He said something about student council and went to his room. I just thought it was from the same thing."

I'd seen them in the hallway, leaving school. Even at a quick glance, I'd known that Edward didn't have a black eye. If I had kicked him that hard, it would have bruised by the time history class rolled around.

Edward was fine when he left school.

But not after he dropped off Emmett.

Emmett!

Aw fuck, Emmett!