CUPCAKE WARS CONTEST

Title: Gluttony
Pen name: Miss Snazzy
Pairing: Bella/Edward
Rating: T
Word Count: 1,293

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyers.

…

Part IV

Forming Alliances

…

"Is it just me, or has everyone gone mad?" Edward asked as he slid into his seat next to me in Biology.

He had been starting more conversations with me in the last few days than he ever had in the past. I wonder what's making him so vocal and friendly all of a sudden…

"Hey, where are your cupcakes?"

"I don't have any cupcakes," he laughed.

"Why not?" Everyone else in school seemed to have one of those pink boxes. Why didn't he?

"I have a track meet on Friday."

"So?" If Rosalie can quit her diet for those cupcakes, then the willpower of all mankind she be put into question.

"I vowed not to eat another item of the dessert variety until after I ran. And when I'm committed to something, I tend to be immovable," he winked

I wanted to make a snide comment about his arrogance in calling himself immovable, but I was kind of busy picturing him as a sturdy brick house. No wolves would be blowing him down.

I hummed instead, trying to separate the words blowing and him in my mind. I failed and was mentally unzipping his jeans with my teeth when his voice broke through.

"Do you think it has something to do with the cupcakes?" he asked.

I was about to tell him my theories—mainly that I think there's something fishy going on at Kate Konfections—when Mr. Banner demanded the attention of the class.

"As you know…some of the teachers and I are planning a trip to Seattle in which we will visit several museums that hold relevance to the course material of several classes. Unfortunately, our budget has been…cut, so each of you must contribute twenty dollars in order to attend. I will walk around and collect that money now."

The class had grown silent toward the end of his speech and everyone seemed to pause, gauging whether or not they should really pull twenty dollars out of their bags. Once a few had handed their contributions over, the rest of us followed their lead.

Mr. Banner had already gone through a couple tables when Lauren stood up.

"I'm in student council and I saw the fieldtrip forms. We don't have to pay anything," Lauren hissed.

"Excuse me Miss Mallory, but as a member of the faculty, I believe I know a great deal more—"

"There wasn't a budget cut. You're going to use that money to buy more cupcakes from Kate Konfections!" she accused.

Several people gasped and Mr. Banner stared at her with wide eyes, clenching his hand around the bills. When some started to get up, presumably to retrieve their money, he ran out of the room. A group of students followed him.

"Well that was…"

"Insane?"

"Yeah."

With tentative steps, Edward and I left the classroom to find what could only be described as chaos. Pink boxes were scattered all over the floor and people were running around with the urgency of trying to escape a building caught on fire. Several were just jamming cupcakes down their throats, while others fought viciously to keep others from stealing their own. One girl was crying as she smashed her now empty pink box.

The most horrifying of all was the group of students crawling on the floor and licking up what looked to be cupcakes that had been smashed into the linoleum. I recognized Angela Webber among them and that made the whole thing infinitely worse.

Angela Webber is a germaphobe. And now she's licking the floor.

"Edward, I propose that we form an alliance," I said.

"To figure out what's going on?"

"Yes."

"And possibly save the day?"

"Yes."

He grinned.

"I accept."

…

"Stop your grumbling."

"I just don't see why we couldn't have taken my truck," I mumbled.

I was mumbling, not grumbling. Just because they rhyme doesn't make them the same.

The drive was relatively short because let's face it—Edward's a speed demon. I guess when you can run as fast as he can, it's hard to go slow.

There were cars stopped in an almost barricade around the shop, so Edward had to park a little farther away. He cut the ignition and quickly opened his door, but before I could open mine, he was already at my side. I took his offered hand hesitantly as I stepped out.

"Was that really necessary?" I griped, trying not to let him know how much the gesture made me want to smile and that the brief contact made the butterflies swarm.

I also kind of wanted to kick him because now I would have to add his manners to the list of amazing things about Edward Cullen. Seriously, what was with this guy? It's like he jumped right out of a teenage girl's wet dream.

"Absolutely," he grinned with that crooked smile of his and I couldn't help but blush, imaging that he had read my mind and was agreeing with my assessment of him.

We walked toward the shop in companionable silence and I tried not to think anything of it when his hand accidentally brushed mine from time to time. It was probably me anyway. I'm a tilter. Sometimes when I'm walking, I randomly tilt one way. Guess my equilibrium is shot or something. It would explain my ineptness at running and really athletics in general… Though that really conflicts with my ability to walk along edges and maintain my balance.

Well that's me, I suppose. Bella Swan—the tilting and tightrope-walking contradiction.

When we made it to the barricade of cars, I wished I had thought to bring a bat or something. Several of the cars' windows had been bashed in and there were more pink boxes strewn about. Most of them were trampled, as if a mob at been through here.

Edward rolled over the hood of a car and landed on his feet with a grin. I rolled over the hood of the car and landed on my ass.

"Bella are you okay?" he asked, helping me up. I should've swatted his hand away, but I was yearning for the contact. I'm glad he couldn't read my mind because that sounded freaky even in my own head.

"Nothing hurt but my pride," I sighed in annoyance. "Also, my ass kind of hurts."

"Want me to kiss it better?"

I stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was serious. I shoved him when he started laughing.

"Jerk."

I stomped toward the store's entrance, trying to look angry while stepping around shards of glass in a kind of hopping movement that I'm fairly certain made me look like an injured rabbit, and thereby negating the effort. I could hear the glass crunch under his steps as he followed me—he was wearing boots that were thick enough to protect his feet.

"Hey, come on. I was just kidding."

"Yeah, whatever. It's easy to laugh when you're always the one coming out on top." I glared at my hands, just noticing that I had scraped them when I fell. Great.

"What?"

"Nothing," I muttered.

"No Bella." He grabbed my arm and spun me around. "What did you mean by that?" he asked and I noticed there was a hard edge to his voice.

"Exactly what I said," I snapped, matching his tone. "It's easy to make fun of others when you're Mr. Perfect."

"You think I'm perfect?" he asked in disbelief.

"I know it," I glared, hating that he made me say it.

"Maybe I should be flattered you see me that way, but all I can think is how stupid that is."

"So I'm stupid now? Well fuck you," I spat, wrenching my arm free of his hand.

…