First off, I'd like to say THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS! I like that people can relate to what Bella is going through.


I got a message asking me why I never reply to his/her reviews, do I think I can just ask for them then not even acknowledge the people taking the time to do it?

I am very sorry if it seems that way! I don't answer to too many reviews because I know that when I leave a review I am not looking for a reply, so I don't want to reply to someone who probably doesn't want one.

I guess there are some people who do want an answer or simple thanks for the review.

That is why I say THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS at the beginnings of my chapters… unless I have forgotten… so here we go. I will answer reviews up here from now on.


~Kgunter34: thanks. I love an ass kicking Bella as well! Yes, I agree she needs to do that.

~xmasevebaby: Don't worry about it, I get really involved in the stories I read, too.

~Isabela is online: You are very welcome. I enjoy writing it thanks to nice reviews like yours.

~Jodie-Loner: wow. Thank you so much. I pulled up my email and saw that I had a bunch of reviews from you for each of my stories. Thanks so much for reviewing every chapter and really paying attention to details of the story and commenting on them.

~Timeflies77: Thank you! Thank you! That means a lot. I don't know who your sister is, but thank her for me.

I hope that covers most of it. If not… A thanks goes to everyone!


Chapter Four: This is a Joke, Right?

Bella's point of view

"Ugly whore."

"Bitch."

"Hag."

All these names being thrown at me from all different directions as I walked through the cafeteria just fueled the stress rushing through me. I feel like I could snap at any second from everything that has happened today. I hate that I am letting all these prissy little cheerleaders push me around, but what could I do? I am not stupid enough to try and take on a whole damn school.

I could probably take them on one or two at a time thanks to my dad's training. One of the few benefits of having a policeman as a father is you get to learn self defense for free. I have acquired quite a few muscles over the years, but not nearly enough to take on everyone who hates me at this school, which seems to be everyone.

Every school I have ever gone to, I have been either invisible or the odd one out, but I have never been bullied. Sure, I have been called a few names in my life but nothing like this. These people don't even know me and they are treating me like I am a freaking Marilyn Manson in the making. I don't deserve this crap. Like it matters? This is high school and no matter how old you get, high school never ends.

I ignored the people around me to the best of my abilities and found an empty table pressed up against a wall. I sat down, hoping to get through lunch unscathed and pulled out my favorite book, The Witching Hour by Anne Rice. It was a pretty expensive book, at least for me, but it was a birthday gift from my parents a few years ago. I cannot stop reading it, especially since my book collection is running low. I keep losing books with every move.

I was starting the book over for the hundredth time it seemed, when I felt like I was being watched. I looked up from the page I was reading and scanned the lunchroom. My eyes immediately fell on a table placed directly in front of a large window. There were four people sitting there and all of them kept glancing over at me. There were two girls and two guys.

One of the girls was the very definition of petite. She had beautiful pale skin and crazy but tame spiked black hair that stopped at her shoulders. Her eyes were a familiar green but I couldn't place where I have seen them. She had her hand entwined on the table with a boy who had slightly blonde curly hair that fell over his icy blue eyes in a natural and alluring way. From what I could see over the table, he is tall and built with some muscle.

Sitting next to him was a beast. A huge man with adorable boyish features, perfect dimples and forest green eyes. He had short brown curls which were being run through by long slender fingers. The hand belonged to a beautiful Amazon woman with golden locks that went down lower than the edge of the table. Her eyes matched the icy blue of the blond boy. She is one of those girls that makes you both envious and question your sexuality. I deem that table to be the beautiful people territory.

I looked away from their gloriousness back to my book, not wanting to be caught checking them out even though they seem to be interested in me for some reason I do not know. Probably seeing what is so special about me that I have a school full of enemies on my first day here.

I wish I fucking knew. I really do.

I was just starting to get into the plot of my book when I heard a few giggles from across the room and approaching footsteps. I got a feeling in the pit of my stomach that frightened me, but I was too late to react when a plate full of pasta landed on my book.

I saw red, literally. There was red gooey sauce covering every inch of my book and stray noodles weighing it down. I couldn't hear a thing nor could I focus on what I was doing.

All I can think is that my favorite book is ruined!

I jumped up from my seat yelling at the bitch who was the cause of my book's hideous demise, cutting off whatever the hell it was that she was in the middle of saying to me.

"You fucking whore!"

My voice was an unrecognizable shriek, as I hurled my precious book at the stupid bitch's chest.

The whole room went eerily quiet as the book fell to the floor and made an echo sound through the entire cafeteria. I didn't care. I have taken enough shit today to last a lifetime.

No, that is not fucking dramatic. I have been knocked on my ass, had my stuff kicked away from me, been called names and even cried in a bathroom stall to complete the ridiculous cliché of a terrible first day at a new high school! And now my fucking book has been ruined right in front of my very eyes and I couldn't stop it! That is where I draw the line and lose it.

"You bitch! Do you have any idea how much this shirt cost?" her shrieking voice that rivaled mine a few seconds ago cut through the silence.

Her shirt? Her fucking shirt! What about my damn book? I bet she could afford ten more of those. I can't afford another book!

"No and I don't fucking care! You completely ruined my book you fake piece of crap!"

I was nearly crying now. Not because I was upset. No, I was going to cry purely from being so pissed off. That has always been an issue with me. I cry when I am angry and people misinterpret and think I am weak. I am not weak and I have a bad feeling that these people are going to get to see that today. I tried to control myself. I didn't want to embarrass my family by getting into a fight on my first day at a new school, but my efforts were in vain as I had seen the girl standing in front of me shoot her fist out at a speed that could surely break my nose. I was ready though. I ducked out of the way in time for her hand to crack sickeningly on the wall that was placed behind me. She was already hurt and jumping around, but I couldn't just stand here and do nothing.

All of my anger was focused on this girl, as I tackled her crying body to the floor. I threw hard punches that would definitely leave my hands bruised. I even got a few hard hits in with my cast until I was pulled off of her by a pair of strong steel arms. They wrapped around my waist tightly in an unbreakable hold. I scratched his hands and kicked my legs around wildly in a desperate attempt to free myself, but he seemed unaffected as my feet connected with his legs roughly.

I didn't want to hurt this guy who was just trying to stop the fight, but my anger was so intense that my senses, along with Elvis Presley, have left the building.

I heard a commotion going on around me, but my eyes were too focused on the girl on the floor. I was forced to tear my eyes away, as I was thrown over the guy's shoulder and 'escorted' from the room screaming threats and profanities.

"Put me down, Hulk! I will fucking kill you! Put. Me. Down!"

I can't believe the words that were falling from my mouth even as I was speaking them. I regretted each word as they left me, but that didn't stop them from coming. Anger swallowed me and my common sense resulting in me threatening an oversized ogre.

Today is just not my day.

"Put her down right here. You can head back to lunch, Emmett. Thanks for helping," an authoritative voice sounded through the room, as I was placed gently on a cushiony chair in front of a long redwood desk.

On the desk was a golden plaque that read Mrs. Travis.

I held onto the arms of the chair, digging my fingernails into it painfully to keep from acting even more irrationally than I all ready was. My jaw was closed so tightly it made pains shoot through my teeth and gums. There is no need to make anymore of a fool of myself so keeping quiet and staying still is the best thing that I can do right now.

Common sense was slowly seeping its way back into my mind and my cheeks heated with embarrassment.

I cannot believe I did that! Did I really do that? Shit! I did do that!

"Umm, Mrs. Travis?" a deep voice echoed off of the walls behind me.

"Yes, Emmett?" I am guessing that is Mrs. Travis.

"I just wanted to let you know that she was defending herself. Jessica may have been the one to get her butt kicked, but she initiated the fight," answered the too deep man voice.

Is he sticking up for me? Why would he do that? Did he honestly care enough to clear things up for me or did he feel bad for me? I am sure everyone knows about me and all the things people are doing to me.

"Thank you, Emmett. I will take it from here. You don't want to miss your lunch," the lady dismissed him and went to sit at her desk.

She picked up a manila folder with a few papers sticking out of the sides and started to thumb through it as she spoke to me.

"So, Isabella Swan… You haven't gotten into a fight at any of your other schools, have you?"

I shook my head no, a little scared to speak. I have never been in trouble before.

"So, tell me, what makes my school so special that you would tarnish a perfect record like this?"

She put the folder down and looked at me.

Oh, no. I didn't even think about that. My only chance to get into a college would be by getting an academic scholarship. I don't know if a fight will get in the way of that, but… Damn. No more perfect record. That was one thing that I was proud of.

"Hey, hey, honey, don't cry," a soothing voice was at my side in an instant.

I looked up at the concerned face of Mrs. Travis. I hadn't realized that I was even crying, but as I lifted my hand to my cheek, I felt the hot tears spilling down. I looked away from her, too embarrassed to see her as I spoke.

"It has been a r-really ha-ard day for me," my voice broke and squeaked humiliatingly in front of this complete stranger.

I had to sniff to keep my nose from running. She reached over her desk and handed me a tissue.

"First days are always hard, Isabella. They don't usually send young girls into tears. Tell me what happened? Did Jessica start the fight or was Emmett lying, which I seriously doubt."

Her voice convinced me that I was okay in here. That I was safe talking to her but all I could do was nod my head at her, as I wiped the black makeup and tears from my face. I just wanted to disappear into myself and never be seen again. I can't believe how much I have humiliated myself.

I had to be carried out of the cafeteria, thrown over a large boy's shoulder and I couldn't even go quietly! No, of course not! I screamed and kicked and basically threw a fit in front of a room full of people who hate me, just giving them more reason to torment me.

Thinking about the fight brought back the memory of why I was fighting in the first place. My book. My favorite book! A fresh stream of tears charged down my face as a sob broke loose from my throat. Mrs. Travis just sat next to me and patted soothingly on my back.

When I finally quieted down and got more of a hold on my emotions, she walked over to her desk and sat down on top of it and smiled at me. I offered her a polite but shaky one back.

She was quite beautiful, actually. She had long, curly blond hair that was thrown into a messy ponytail that cascaded down her back. She was dressed casually and comfortably but held herself professionally.

She clasped her hands on her lap and looked me directly in the eye.

"I won't pretend that I haven't heard the gossip circulating around the school. You upset the big man on campus and now he is using his girlfriends to get back at you. I have also heard that most of the school has joined in on the torment. This has absolutely nothing to do with you as a person. It has to do with him as… Well, don't quote me on this please? A jerk." She laughed humorlessly and shook her head at her own choice of words as she finished her sentence.

She looked away from me to the clock on the wall as she continued her next words.

"Let's compromise here. I won't put this on your permanent record if you agree to speak to the school guidance counselor for a while. She is very nice and she doesn't judge. I think she can help you… with a lot of things. Also, you have detention after school on Fridays for the next three weeks."

I could tell by the tone of her voice that she knew something. Maybe she knew about my life at home or maybe she was anticipating more torture to be thrown at me. Either way, I will agree to her terms. I don't want my perfect record to be tarnished by this incident and seeing a guidance counselor really doesn't sound so bad to me. Detention sounds terrible, but I know I deserve it and I will take the punishment with my head held high.

I nodded my head at her, still not trusting my voice. She smiled and handed me a light red piece of paper.

What is with all of the colorful paper here?

Maybe they try to come off as a cheery school to make up for all the assholes that both work and attend this place. Aside from the lady sitting in front of me, I haven't met one decent person. It is really a sad thing that this town can be so full of jerks like this.

What can I do? Absolutely nothing but cry about it, which I hope I don't end up doing. I cried enough today.

I looked at the paper and noticed that it was an information sheet and a schedule telling me when I can see the guidance counselor and what I can hope to accomplish and to have a great day!

Yeah, great day? Not in this damn school.

I was excused from the principal's office soon after receiving the paper and a pass for my next class and headed off to Biology. I was already a few minutes late, so I ran through the empty hallways even though I had a pass. I really wanted to go unnoticed. That certainly wasn't going to happen walking into a room full of people trying to learn and getting the teacher to sign my slip.

I searched the doors in the hallway looking for room 4B. Mr. Banner.

"4B… 4B… No… No… Yes."

I stopped in front of the oddly intimidating room and took a deep breath before slowly turning the knob and finally entering. The room was well lit and quiet conversations were going on as people worked at their lab stations with their partners.

"Ms. Swan?"

I nearly jumped at the sudden sound of my name being called. I looked over to the teacher's desk and saw a dark skinned man leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head and his feet on the surface of his desk. He had a lazy smile, as I approached him.

Alright, he seems okay…

I smiled shyly and handed him my slip of paper that needed to be signed. He grabbed it from me and scribbled down his signature.

"You're late," he observed.

I timidly handed him my pass. His demeanor made me unsure of myself, like I was under watch, but I had a feeling that he was always like this and it wasn't just me, at least I hope it isn't just me. He stood from his desk suddenly and slung his arm over my shoulder in a friendly way and ushered me to the front of the room.

"Class, this is Isabella Swan. She just transferred here from Phoenix, Arizona. Ms. Swan, you may take a seat next to Edward Cullen. I separated him from the other students because he is a chatty one, but it is the only seat available."

With that, he pushed me in the direction of the open seat. I kept my head low, as I sat down. I could hear that a few conversations in the room were focused on me while others were focused on the dance coming up. I didn't want to risk them seeing any stray makeup that I may have missed.

I sat my stuff on the tabletop as Mr. Banner started to speak of a lab assignment we would be starting. A partner project… I already hate this damn teacher. I didn't want to be introduced and I really don't want to have to work with someone who doesn't like me. Let's face it, though… Everyone here strongly dislikes me.

I pretended to listen to him speak but let my eyes wander over the edge of the table as a distraction from the anxiety that was steadily forming inside of me. Then I noticed something that made my heart pick up its pace and my body go rigid.

A pair of black and white high top Nikes.

This is a joke, right?


Thar she blows.

Sorry, I wanted to say that for some reason.

Anyways, please review? Again, sorry about the super long A/N at the beginning. The next one won't be as long. I just needed to explain myself.

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