A/N:

Hello readers! Thanks for coming back for another week of LS. And thanks to my lovely reviewers! I read and appreciate all of them =)

Updates are going to be as often as possible, and I'm gearing toward every other week…like…Sunday night, Monday morning…latest Tuesday night kind of deal.

Last time, they met (yayayay!) Now…teenagers have to go to school, right? What could POSSIBLY happen there… ;-)

Enjoy, and PLEASE REVIEW!!!!

Chapter 5- Day 1: Cafeteria

EPOV

By the time Monday came around I was just about ready to fucking smash my head against a wall. The weekend crawled, the girl from Friday night shifting around my fucking head like acid pulling through the crevices of my brain; burning and searing her image there.

And I tried. I really, fucking did. Emmett and I watched porn. I played God of War on my Playstation 2. But it was like every time I tried to ignore her and push her away she snuck up on me. From the base of my brain up the backside, over the top until she sat at my forehead, like she had always been there, tormenting me. I had dark circles under my eyes and I'm pretty sure I was a fucking neurotic, like those basket cases in a padded, white room; but in reality I was just worried because the anticipation was killing me. I didn't know where she was going to come back next; would she be there beside me, her fucking scent in my shower when I tried to clean myself but smelled her strawberry shampoo? Or would I feel her weight against my arm, casually leaning into my right side when I played video games. The truth was I was haunted by the ghost of someone I'd only met once—and would most likely never see again.

But I was a master at holding back what I felt. I had a poker face all of Sunday, never letting on to Alice, who'd burned me with her questioning, or Emmett, who'd have my balls in his hands in a second. I barely saw my parents, who didn't even want to look at me as I passed them in and out of rooms as they made amends with Shit-For-Brains, my asshole brother.

I went through the motions. I ate when I was hungry. I stayed away from everyone at all times. I kept to myself, did some homework, played some Cure and went to bed.

Only I didn't sleep. I kept seeing her—in my mind, that perfectly curved body with the doe eyes; the hair around the pink blush. I jerked off twice to her on Sunday night—three times more than for any girl I'd tried to cleanse myself of—until I thought she'd finally faded from the inner workings of my mind.

Of course, she didn't.

My room, which I had always favored because it was dead quiet and away from everything, wasn't even mine anymore. When I would lie down to sleep—or try to fucking sleep, because even that wasn't possible anymore—I would dream of her.

I would dream that we were still at Newton's house, on the same godforsaken balcony where I'd contracted this incurable disease, only this time the rest of the world wasn't a witness. No one was there, just me and her. The fact that I still didn't know her name made my skin crawl in an irritatingly strange way, and even in my dream I could feel the desire to know it. She would stand there, leaning like the lioness she was, against the columned balcony—wearing that same fucking blue dress—with the little ends flying in the wind and grazing the pale, smoothness of her thighs; the only place my hands belonged. Smiling that same innocent smile, showing the world she didn't have a fucking clue as to what she was doing to me.

My hands would clench and unclench as I watched like a predator, my chest heaving from the exhilaration of the hunt, the pounding in my chest as my heart produced enough blood flow to meet both of my needs; only it couldn't ever sate the tightening in my groin. My mind would spin soundlessly as I stood—staring, watching—thinking up the best strategy for our physical ecstasy, but she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and blushed. Her brown eyes, dark and warm, swept through me, sinking in to find the darkness of my soul, somewhere deep. I didn't even think it existed, enticing it with her laughter until she completely pulled it out of its depths, owning it completely. I staggered, and she breathed lowly, a soft whisper; 'Edward.'

There was nothing more I could fucking do, because in that second I'd lost everything. She'd never spoken my name—I doubted she knew it in reality—but she'd fucking said it there in my mind and my entire world collapsed with her angel's voice barely breathing a few fucking syllables.

I'd pounced on her, my hands grabbing her thighs roughly and sliding up the smooth perfection until I'd torn what was underneath. Her heart shaped face flushed pink, those devil's eyes just closed with pleasure as her head fell back. The tips of her wispy curls grazing my hands on her, she whimpered, and my cock throbbed painfully as I undid my jeans.

'Edward,' she moaned again, and her eyes did that same fucking thing as before, looking into me and robbing me of everything I'd ever owned. Her small hands fisting my t-shirt, she opened her legs to fit my leonine frame. Lifting her to sit on the ledge I sunk into her, hard and fast, letting the heat and warmth and tightness of it drown me. I pounded, thrusted as she bounced, grunting hard at her innocent sounds. Her haunting eyes closed in concentration, her little mouth in a perfect 'O', they suddenly opened to stare into my own, still wide and in fucking shock of the things she made me feel; and penetrating and dark and staring into me, I lost it. I'd come hard inside of her.

I sat bolt upright in my bed, panting and sweating. Gasping for air, I laughed, shaking my head as I let my lean hands swipe over my face, hard, another attempt to erase her, unsuccessfully. I sensed her, as if she were here, still felt my skin tingle from the aftershock of my orgasm, felt her weight against my chest, her moisture on my dick, until I realized quickly enough that what had woken me up was my wet dream.

Like I was fucking thirteen all over again. Fuck, when I was thirteen this didn't happen. Wet dreams happened to guys that couldn't get any, so they had to imagine and dream it up. When I was thirteen I was screwing seniors in high school.

I didn't have control over myself anymore.

And that was a fucking scary realization.

Sitting there in my bed, I was a complete mess. The stickiness of my desire was becoming uncomfortable, but I couldn't move from where I was. Trembling. I was still fucking trembling from what had happened to me, and all I could do was blame this devil woman who came to utterly destroy me. Never in all my years had I had a fantasy like that creep over into my dreams. In all seriousness, this girl had control of both my subconscious state and unconscious mind.

Unchartered territory.

I didn't control my mind anymore.

And she did.

You don't have any control…

What the fuck is happening to me?

I groaned, but quietly cleaned up, my head and chest feeling heavy with need for her, my boner wearing down to nothing. It was like she'd taken everything, even the fucking energy I needed to go to the fucking bathroom and back to bed. Weak, I shuffled back to sit on the edge of my bed, rubbing my hands over my face. I groaned coming down from my high, trying to imagine anything but her face. I lay back down, hooking my arm over my eyes and kicking the comforter back; I thought I heard her whisper again, like it had crept in through the window opened by only a crack.

'Edward.'

It was the hardest weekend of my life.

BPOV

To say that I wasn't nervous was the understatement of the century. No, millennia.

"You, uh, you want me to drive you to school, Bells?" Charlie asked hesitantly. It was clear he really didn't want to, but seeing how nervous I was, offered.

My eyes shot up from where I stood at the sink washing my coffee mug and breakfast plates, stray strands of hair from my ponytail falling into my eyes. I gaped like a fish, shaking my head quickly. "No, no, Dad. It's fine. I know the way," I covered, as images of Charlie dropping me off in the cruiser flashed through my mind like the blaring lights on top of the very car that would ruin my life. "I'll have to learn to go on my own sometime. No use spoiling me," I tried to joke, though inside I was burning acid.

"Oh, yeah…you're right. That's uh, smart, Bells. Real uh….realistic." Charlie's eyes looked everywhere but my own, typical for him. He wasn't a very social man; never was and never would be. His aloofness with life helped him get to his rank at the Police Department, but it was that exact trait that broke my parents' marriage; drove a wedge between our relationship.

"In that case," he started, hooking his coat off the rack and clinking his keys, "I'm heading over to the station."

"Cool," I agreed, putting on my own jacket in preparation to leave. It was old and stained, definitely one of Charlie's coats, but who was I impressing? I wore what I had to keep warm in 30 degree weather. "You'll be home for dinner?" I asked, but Charlie was already half way out the door.

"Uh, what time is dinner?"

"Well, after school and homework, Dad. I'd say…six?"

Charlie's face scrunched tight, and I recognized the emotion as remorse; remorse for disappointment he was planning to deliver. I'd become well accustomed to it time and time again.

I was used to it, really, and I'd been able to recognize it since I was four. There were those two weeks every summer where that exact expression monopolized Charlie's face; where he thought taking me fishing with him and Billy Black was fun. That his little five year old daughter wanted to pretend to play Police Officer because there was nothing to do—so he took me to work with him. I was used to pizza and the diner with him, watching sports shows beside him silently until I would fall asleep or was old enough to put myself to sleep. It was just another letdown that didn't let me down anymore, because with both of my parents, they were daily occurrences.

"I really don't know about that, Bells. I work late Mondays. And Wednesdays. Thursdays, and Fridays. Saturdays are—"

"I got it," I smiled, forced, trying hard not to let any acid slip from my tongue. "You're not used to having a kid friendly schedule, its ok," I jabbed with a half smile. "I'll leave something for you."

"That's really great. Thanks. Try to have a good first day, please?"

"I'll try," I answered, but he was already gone.

The story of my life; I had parents that were just too busy for me to be the center of their world.

I never really planned on starting off with a bang, but the way my rusted old Chevy flatbed coughed as I parked next to the shiny new sports cars in the lot, the entire Forks population must have thought I'd arrived by cannon. Barely fitting my monster truck beside the candy red BMW convertible, I leapt out from the cab trying to find the main office. I must have looked lost as I stared hard at the crumpled map and list of classes, because I instantly caught attention.

"She has no idea where she's going," a thick, masculine voice spat, followed by a round of giggles. I spun instantly to meet the voice, and staggered backward. I felt, deep down, as if I'd heard it before, and squinting to look at the boy I shuddered. Before me was one of the biggest men I'd ever seen. His body taut with muscle and bulk, his face was extremely hard—and handsome—with its closely matted black curls. He smiled, still laughing at me, with deep set dimples, and for an instant I felt as if I recognized him. Not him precisely, but something about the way he smiled.

In his arms, leaning against the side of the car, was an absolutely stunning girl. Tall, leggy and blonde, she looked as if she were an angel painted by Donatello, yet tainted by the constant sneer and scowl she wore. I was taken aback by both of their sheer beauty until a small figure jumped to my side.

"Don't pay any mind to them, they're too far into each other to know anything about anything else," the small girl's chiming voice laughed. "I'll help you out. Are you new here?"

I stuttered at her kind helpfulness, getting a good look at her. She, like the others, was painstakingly beautiful. Her ivory skin was perfectly smooth with small features, dark gray eyes peeking out from dark curled lashes. Her short, pixie hair was spiked in all directions, and though she stood at least half a foot shorter than me, I'd never felt more calm than in her presence.

"Yeah," I laughed nervously. "I kind of am. I mean I know the area because I come here every summer but—"

"Oh!" she small girl squealed. "You must be Isabella Swan, the Chief's daughter!" Delight took over her every feature and I could tell she was about to burst; I knew I'd have to stop her, because if I didn't I'd be another spectacle for a small down.

"Bella," I blurted forcefully, interrupting her with my hand out. "Please. Call me Bella."

"Ok, then, Bella," she beamed. "I'm Alice Cullen. I'll help you out. Come, let's go to the main office." Quickly she turned to lead me away, and I waved shyly at the others, the big one mockingly waving back at me. We'd barely turned before the silence was shattered by the screeching of tires and blasting music. I recognized it instantly as Nirvana, I'd listened now and then, but the way the car flew at lightning speed and swung into the spot beside my truck it was a sheer miracle I wasn't struck down by the driver—or able to discern it was a silver Volvo. The windows tinted a dangerous black, it was the only car whose windows were reflective like a mirror. Why anyone would need that kind of car in such a small town was beyond me; just another rich, stuck up kid trying to be the king of the High School.

"Fucking idiot," Alice spat harshly, clearing her head quickly and tugging me away. "Let's get you going. So are you a junior, or a senior like me?"

"Senior. I know, it's ridiculous transferring mid year, but I had to."

"Yeah, I could only imagine. It can't be easy. So maybe we have some classes together! I am taking a history."

"Post Civil War? With…Bromwell? Second period?" I prompted, hoping this tiny girl who was so welcoming would be there.

"Yes!" she screeched. "Oh my goodness, that's means it's me, you and my boyfriend Jasper! Oh he is such a history buff. He loved all this Civil War stuff. He's real smart. And cute, too," she winked as she led me into the office. "I can tell you and I are going to be great friends!" she smiled again, angelic, hugging me tightly as I blushed.

"Oh, where are my manners?" she chuckled. "Mrs. Cope? This is Bella Swan, the Chief's daughter," she introduced, the lady behind the desk suddenly interested. "Can we set her up with everything?"

"Of course we can. Do you have your schedule, Bella?"

As if on cue the first bell rang for homeroom, and Alice shifted. "I'm so sorry, but I have to go. I'll see you in class though, ok, Sweetie?"

"Yeah, ok. Sure. Thanks a lot, Alice," I blushed, and was left to paperwork and forms.

The day went quickly enough. I'd found my way to my classes, barely late for all, if any, and was fairly interested in the material. I had English first with Mr. Berty, and he'd handed me a stack of books—classical works—all of which were my favorite, so I knew I'd be fine. History with Alice and her boyfriend Jasper went just the same, and I was comfortable to have a familiar face. Algebra and French were next, and I was glad I shared them with Jessica and Angela.

I welcomed the peace that came with a free period right before lunch. It was just what I needed to recoup after getting hammered with new people, introductions and embarrassment. I hid away in the library reading Romeo and Juliet, the assigned reading for my English class.

The harsh bell pulling me from the streets of Verona, I gathered my things and headed over to what I would enjoy the least of my day, everyday. The social spectacle of lunch, where even in Arizona everyone would gossip and spread rumors—would and could always be despised by me. And today would be no better; I would be the new girl walking into the shark pit as everyone stared and whispered about the Bachelor Chief's Plain Jane daughter.

The cafeteria was packed by the time I'd gotten there, as I expected in my worst nightmares, and if Jessica didn't wave her arms to guide me over to her I'd have never found her. I smiled small, plopping my bag down at a table with Angela and Ben, Jessica and Mike.

"So…how you liking Forks so far, Arizona?" Mike chuckled, leaning back with his arm around Jessica.

"I can't really complain so far. But then again, it hasn't really rained yet." They laughed, and I nervously sat down, pulling an apple off of a tray. And just like that, just as I had in Arizona, I became the wallpaper of the lunch table. There, but not really there, I was just someone to sit at their table. I didn't know anyone they were gossiping about, or any of the plans they were making. I just sat quietly, eyes averted as I picked at the red apple and twisted the stem. To be completely honest I wasn't even listening, because nothing was familiar to me, that is, until Mike mentioned the Cullens.

"That's why I had that party this weekend, guys. Because of that shit the fucking Cullens pulled a few nights ago, my parents had to go into Seattle to get new stuff for the store."

Cullens…I immediately stopped twisting the stem of my apple on the table to look up.

"They're bad news, Mike," Angela sighed. "And to think…they were there. With us."

My eyes were going from face to face as the conversation continued, and I tried to piece the pieces together. Perhaps there had to be some other Cullen family, because I couldn't see my new friend Alice being any trouble. The girl was brilliant and sweet…kind. She took me in with a smile.

"I know," Mike nodded, anger written all over his features. Jessica pouted beside him, rubbing his back. "I was off my guard a little," he smiled tightly, winking at Jessica who finally smiled. "But Tyler, Ben and me searched the house after. Nothing was missing. Nothing was broken. So maybe it's a stupid rumor."

"No," Angela breathed. "It's not. I saw them." The entire table, including myself, glanced at the other before leaning forward to hear Angela's low whisper. "Ben and I," she continued, went on the front porch just for a bit. You know, to get air. We're social and we love our friends, but Mike, you know there were too many people there…"

"Ang…" Mike rolled his eyes. "Please? Skip it. We know you're shy," he winked.

"Ok, well, out front where everyone parked their cars, all the way down the driveway? That's where they were—Emmett, Rose, Jasper and Alice. They never came in, I guess because Emmett and Rose picked up drinks, I mean, they were drinking a little, but they were no where near drunk," she paused. "And he," she emphasized, her head pointing over to the far side of the cafeteria, "wasn't there."

"Good," Mike seethed, and I could see there was hostility between Mike and whoever he was.

"I'm…not finished," Angela meekly hushed, and the tenseness in everyone's eyes multiplied. "I said he…he wasn't there."

"I know, Ang, and I said—" Mike started, but was interrupted.

"I said he wasn't there because he wasn't with them," Angela finished. "But his car was parked behind Jessie's. So…he had to be somewhere in the party. Somewhere no one saw him."

My mind was running with the possibilities, swimming as I tried to imagine what bad seed Alice hung out with. She and Jasper were perfect. Seemed perfect. Neither of them could possibly be delinquents.

"Get the fuck out of here!" Mike whispered fiercely. "No fucking way," though Angela only nodded its confirmation. "Motherfucker. I was in the living room, so that covers the dining room too, and I didn't see him."

"Yeah and I was in the kitchen, then in the basement for a while and he wasn't in either," Ben dutifully replied.

"What the fuck? He wasn't upstairs!" Mike cursed. "Unless…" he trailed off to focus his eyes on me, and all eyes turned with his. I felt myself blush from the attention, my tongue useless. I shook my head, but Mike still asked the question. "What about you, Bella? Where were you at my party?"

"I…I…," I stuttered, "I was on the balcony. In the back."

"Bingo," Tyler spat, taking his chair, swinging it backwards and pulling it over to sit close to me.

"Now we got it," Mike exclaimed. "Did you see him?" Jessica nodded vehemently beside him, as if I had the answer, when really my stomach churned because I didn't even know who they were talking about.

"I don't even know who he is! You keep saying he like I would know what that means!" My voice rose in hysteria, and was getting nervous. But I could see from their expressions that they believed me, because it was true.

"You don't know the Cullens, Bella?" Jessica baited, but I shook my head.

"I have class with Alice. And Jasper, but I thought he was a Whitlock," I confessed. "Alice is really nice though. She's my…friend, I guess…"

"Shit," Ben swore. "Nah, but she's nice enough. It's safe, right Mike?"

"I guess," he started, but his eyes were angry, serious. "Bella…they're trouble. I mean, like I just said, Alice is safe enough. So is Jasper because he's just as clean as Alice, but the others…Ok. Alice is the middle Cullen. The only girl. Real smart. She'll go places. But she has an older brother and a younger brother. Her older brother is Emmett. He's like this big jock, but a moron. Like, the kid didn't even get accepted into college. He's fucking useless. Big oaf. His girlfriend is a tall, blonde, supermodel bitch…Rosalie Hale. She comes from money. There," his face nudged forward in the direction of the far table.

I looked quickly, inconspicuously, and saw Jasper and Alice, who waved animatedly with a smile. I smiled back, before taking note of Rosalie. She was the girl from this morning, the girl who leaned against the car with the guy who had seemed so familiar. Deducing that I had met Emmett Cullen, I looked to Rosalie who was slouched, bored looking; angry at the world.

"I saw her in the parking lot this morning. With her boyfriend, I guess. That was Emmett." Their eyes lit up. "Why did I see him this morning if he doesn't go here?"

"Because, like, he comes to see her in the morning," Jessica whispered. "Like, just to see her. He has nothing to do, no job, no nothing. He's useless."

"Yeah, ok, well they're not even the problem." Mike spat. "The he that we're talking about is the younger Cullen. Edward."

My entire world froze.

I wasn't breathing. This guy, this he that they so hated, was the boy at the party that I had been with. In a second I saw myself on the balcony at Mike's with that boy, that beautiful boy who had been with me and swept me off of my feet. I recalled, as surely as the name fell from Mike's lips, the bellow of Emmett's sure voice as he called to his brother, the reason why I recognized his voice, his smile, and the boy's name. It just hadn't really meant anything to me because I assumed he was just another teenager, a regular guy. Not one that could possibly be so hated. Though I didn't know why, I had to find out.

"You know him?" Tyler prompted, and I shook my head.

No, I really didn't know him. I'd just met him and thought him wonderfully perfect, but that didn't mean I knew a single thing about him. Besides, it could have easily been another Edward…

"Good," Mike sighed. "Stay away from him, you hear me? He's trouble."

"What kind?" I prompted, closing my eyes to guard the pain. It would be that the one good looking guy that shows an interest in me would be trouble.

"Well for starters, I literally think he's fucked half of the female Fork's High School population, past and present."

Cocky. I knew he was cocky. I could sense it in his pick up lines, the pet names he called me.

He sleeps with everyone. Doesn't want you for you, Bella. Wanted to use you for sex, Bella…

"Second, he's always doing something stupid in school. Like, not just stupid, but outright maniacally planned to fuck everybody. Like, last year he drove his car through the brand new greenhouse the biology students fundraised to build. That's why his Dad got him the cheaper car, the Volvo. The car he drove through was the Mercedes Benz."

My eyes widened in shock. No. No…can't be…

"That's nothing, Bella," Jessica prompted a warning.

"Bella," Mike beckoned, "you have no idea. Just this past week Emmett stole some bottles of Bacardi and spray paint and completely trashed my parent's store."

No…no, stop. I don't need to hear this…

"They've been in Seattle the past few nights getting construction men and lawyers to draft up the amount of damage they did to the store. That's why I had the party this weekend. They wouldn't be home, so I knew it was safe to have everyone over.

"That's beside the point. Bella, they have criminal records. Your Dad takes them in all the time for shit. Like, no joke, your Dad hates them, Bella. He and your father fight all the time. Edward thinks nothing of doing something on purpose to piss your Dad off so he can take him in.

"Please. Stay away. They've fucked people up before and not even thought twice. Like, even their parents hate them. His father is the Chief of Surgery at the hospital. His mom's this big Interior Designer. He's a disgrace."

Your father hates him.

Your father has arrested him.

Your father gave him his criminal record.

Revenge.

Screw his daughter, get back at the Chief.

Perfect revenge.

My father was by no means perfect. He wasn't the best husband, or the world's greatest father, but if there was one thing in his life that was perfect it was his job. His life was the station, and he knew the law better than he knew himself. If he had to arrest someone, repeatedly, he had a legitimate reason.

You gave your heart to a delinquent.

"Bella," Jessica prompted, as anger surged through my veins.

A lie, all a lie.

"I was with him at the party," I confessed, my eyes closed.

"What?" Angela gasped, covering her mouth. Silence fell over the table, I opened my eyes to meet shocked faces. "I…I didn't know who he was. He…he never told me. He doesn't know who I am either. I just, I didn't…"

And then behind me, someone was hovering. Mike straightened up, on all defenses, and I knew it, deep in my bones, that he had managed to find me.

"Well, well, well…look who it is," a voice called behind me, and my skin crawled as surely as my heart stuttered.

The same perfect, velvet voice.

Edward.

I didn't move.

"Look at you," he chuckled. "I barely recognized you dressed like that. What the fuck, couldn't you have dressed a little nicer to see me, Beautiful?"

My heart was pounding in my chest, slamming painfully. I knew I was dressed plainly—worn jeans, an old bowling team jersey and Charlie's raggedy coat—but I was clean and modest. No makeup to tarnish my clear skin, I knew I didn't look like I did Saturday night, but that had to be acceptable. This was school, and I was no Rosalie Hale. I didn't deserve his ridicule.

I felt his warmth around me, his presence, like the sun quickly turning into the flames of hell; I slid my chair back quickly, never looking him in the face. Throwing my bag over my shoulder I stood to quickly get away.

"Whoa, whoa, where are you going?" Edward called out to me, and I only quickened my pace, just as I did Saturday when I should have walked away. Only I was going so fast, was so angry that my vision blurred, that I'd turned down an unfamiliar hallway. I ignored the table of my friends calling after me, and walked right into a locked crash bar, pushing and pushing against a door that would never open.

From behind me he laughed loudly, and I spun to face him. Leaning against the wall in all his perfectly handsome, beautiful glory, he looked like the devil to me. Dark black jeans and black converse, Edward donned a tight gray t-shirt and a heavy leather jacket. His bronze hair a constant disarray just like Saturday, Edward's green eyes sparkled, his linear features sinfully decadent. The bruise was fading; yes, definitely lighter than when we'd met, the greenish yellow was sinking into his the pallor of his porcelain skin. His lips, pink and pulled tight in a crooked smile teased me; as handsome as he was, I hated him. Instantly. Only someone so beautiful, so perfect could have such an incredibly black soul. Empty, corrupting, evil, no one with a heart would have embarrassed me the way he did back there; would have cockily remarked that we had known each other in a more intimate way, at a table of people that hated him beyond belief. His simple statement—'couldn't you have dressed nicer to see me, Beautiful' had made my skin crawl, and I immediately branded him as a soulless creature.

Eyes raking my form, I suddenly felt naked, trapped. Like he was undressing me with his eyes, which he probably was; he'd undressed everyone else.

"That door's not gunna open, Gorgeous."

"Don't call me that," I spat.

"Ooh; feisty. I fucking love that." I began to walk forward to cut around him, but he blocked me. I moved to the left, but, like before, he blocked me. "Going somewhere?" He smiled, and I pushed at his arm.

"Yes. Anywhere that you are not."

"Aw, now is that nice, Sweetie? Look at you. You're so good at this…putting up a fight when you really just want me."

Edward leaned in closely be my ear, and I cringed, his warm breath tickling my ear. My heart raced from the attraction I had for him, from the smell of his pure scent that took over my senses and made my abdomen clench. But my adrenaline pushed me back. "I love it when they play hard to get."

"Get away!" I shrieked, pushing hard against his chest. He barely budged, his thin frame stronger than I'd expected, and I stared up into his eyes. I could tell mine were hard, icy and angry, but as I looked into his I was floored.

Green, a beautiful emerald with flecks of brown, I lost my breath. He was taken aback, not the hard ass I'd come to know, but the boy at the party. Wide and open, Edward's pupil's dilated to nearly encompass the green, and imploring, it looked as if he had no answer for me. He didn't respond, only went limp, as if I'd rendered him defenseless.

I was so lost in his eyes that, for a split second they showed me a different Edward. It hurt me to do it—there aren't any words for the ache in the center of my chest—but I easily pushed past him under his arm; and he let me go. I sped faster, but it only made me more conscious of his presence behind me, his sneakers sounding against the linoleum flooring.

"Hey! Come over here!" Edward yelled after me, but I spun past the table of my friends as fast as I could.

"I'm fucking talking to you! Come back!" he yelled, but I'd already left the cafeteria, my heart shattering from his absence already

EPOV

"Ugh, fuck," I groaned, rubbing my face to wake myself up. The fucking bell had rung like a pain in the ass alarm clock, effectively forcing me to wake up. Of course, I wasn't supposed to be sleeping in study hour, it really defeated its purpose entirely, but when you chose the library and went to a secluded corner it was easy to doze right off. It wasn't like I fucking slept at all this weekend.

The first full hour of sleep where I wasn't haunted. Let me not jinx myself.

I shuffled around, in absolutely no rush to get over to the shit show that was Forks High lunch. It was my least favored moment of the day—where all the little assholes could join together and hold hands to discuss the aspects of everyone's life. Particularly mine.

Really, I was flattered.

I took the longest route to the cafeteria, all around the empty, dim lit halls and past the tan, remote lockers surrounded by the peace and quiet I hadn't had all weekend. I was actually fucking relieved to be in school. It was the only place I couldn't see her. She couldn't haunt me here, and I couldn't fantasize her here with me. It was the one place I was safe.

My back slamming into the metal door, I stumbled into the cafeteria from behind, barely turning to grab a bright red apple before I sat at the corner table, alone. I had an unofficial claim to it, but really, no one would want to sit there. Everyone wanted to be in the center, to be noticed, while I just wanted out. It was a darker corner where the light from the windows didn't really hit, and in all honesty I wasn't really alone. Alice and Jasper's table was right beside mine with Bitch already sulking and glowering because she just couldn't handle a fucking year of high school without Emmett.

My chair in reverse, I bit hard into the apple, the crunch breaking the silence of my mind, as I watched the table with my sister and friends. I smiled as I rocked back and forth, watching as Alice chatted away with Jasper, desperately trying to entertain Rose. She drawled and bitched about the new girl who was just so nice and so sweet and so pretty. I chuckled again to myself. I'd be the judge of that.

As if she had read my mind, Alice turned to me, her face completely disgusted. I was so in tune with her I could almost read her thoughts. It was almost like a gift I had because of my ability to read peoples expressions and mannerisms—and Alice wasn't my biggest fan. I could practically hear her shrill, wind chimed voice threatening me; 'Stay away…'

I scoffed at her. If this new girl was worth my time I'd find out on my own. Until then I really didn't care. But if she was as kind and sweet as Alice said…

I didn't want to know jack shit about her. Yawning, as lunch was half over and I had to go to fucking biology with fucking Mr. Molina soon, I stretched upward. My fist barely covering my wide open trap, I yawned so severely that my eyes closed, a little watery from my lack of energy. They opened slowly as I scratched my messy hair and looked around the room.

And I fucking choked.

No. No… no, no fucking way.

Right there, right in front of me, separated by just my sister's lunch table, I saw her. Or thought I saw her.

You fucking jinxed yourself…one free hour of sleep and now you start hallucinating!

I'm not even safe at school. Christ.

It not her…she just looks like her…

But the longer I stared, the more the nauseous feeling set in. Hard and acidic, my stomach lurched painfully while my head spun.

This girl that sat just before me was about her height. She wasn't dressed like she was last weekend—no way in hell, because she was practically wearing a potato sack—but I recognized the delicacy of her hands, the very ones that in my mind's eye worked my body over like no one else ever had. The creamy, perfect complexion was the same; her features barren of any makeup.

It's not her. You're making her up.

No…no it's her. Look at her fucking hands.

Her hands? Dude what the fuck?!

It's her. She's fucking here. She's here. Oh what a fucking life, why is she here?

Don't do this to yourself. You're gonna walk over, say something stupid and she's gonna look at you like the asshole you are because it's not the same girl…

I ignored myself because I knew it, knew it from the bottom of my heart and the pit of my stomach where hydrochloric acid had officially burned a nasty ulcerative hole, that the girl before me was the girl.

My torment.

She wasn't a figment of my imagination, or a ghost that had come to sit on the edge of my bed and smile coyly at me just to fuck with me. She was here, and I knew for sure it was her.

I'd only seen that hair color once before and it was on Saturday night.

Brown, really a rich mahogany, her hair waved and curled around her face; thicker at the bottom, I recognized the little traces of red that curled around through her dark locks as the light from outside shone directly on her. Auburn, almost a muted carbon copy of my own, it gave her hair a dimension that was utterly natural, not out of a hair dye bottle, which was unheard of in this school.

And here she was, natural and beautiful.

Almost as if she felt my eyes on her, she turned suddenly, cautiously. Beautiful, just as I'd remembered it, this girl needed minimal makeup to, err, coax the blood flow in me. There was something so simply and naturally encompassing about her, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing I could do.

I caught Newton's small head nod in my direction, and her eyes were guarded, cautious. Like she wasn't supposed to be looking over in this direction; like she'd be penalized for doing so. She gave a short wave and a self-conscious smile, and I realized instantly that she'd aimed it at my sister and Jasper.

Oh my God. Alice knows her. She's friends with her.

Oh, Godfuck.

And just like that I knew what I had to do. I'd been tortured by her, fucking harassed all weekend by her image, her smile, her fucking scent. There was no way I was going to deny myself the thrill, the fantasy any longer. I knew once I went over, realized she wasn't what I'd made her out to be, she'd leave me the fuck alone. Of course, I knew she didn't know the spell she'd cast, possessing me completely.

Or does she?

She definitely fucking does. The new girl, skipping from school to school leaving a trail of guys just like me in her wake…

Well I'm gunna be the one who fucks her this time and ends her.

I cleared my throat and walked over, Alice's face looking like she'd swallowed a lime, whole.

"Edward…" she growled angrily, but I paid no mind. My attention was otherwise focused. I smiled, tight lipped, mentally hearing the list of curses Alice was throwing my way.

I got all the way over to her, hovering right behind her petite figure. She was completely unaware of my being there, and I chuckled at her.

And then fucking shit head Newton looked up at me, scowling his little bitch face.

She read the anger, immediately reacting. Her small frame, almost quivering, stiffened rigidly in her seat.

I smiled.

"Well, well, well…look who it is," I smiled deeper, crookedly, and I could almost hear her heart stop before pounding. She was perfectly still, maybe in shock, that I'd found her, when in reality she was still haunting me.

"Look at you," I laughed harder, looking at the dumpy coat that reminded me of the chamois I cleaned my car with, only this one had coffee stains. "I barely recognized you dressed like that. What the fuck, couldn't you have dressed a little nicer to see me, Beautiful?"

Of course I didn't mean it, though. I could never mean anything like that with regards to her. I knew she was fucking drop dead gorgeous. She had to know that about herself.

She didn't move and I could tell her breathing was coming harder and faster. I almost reached out a hand to turn her around, secretly hoping that I could embarrass myself when I realized it wasn't really her.

Just like that she'd slammed her back against the chair, the hard metal screeching against the flooring as she shot up. She threw her bag over her shoulder angrily and flat out bolted from my presence.

What the fuck?

After everything, after all I'd gone though because of her that weekend where she'd barely left me able to function, she'd just stood up and fucking blew me off.

No way. Not. Fucking. Happening.

"Whoa, whoa, where are you going?" I yelled after her, mad as fucking hell. No one and I mean no one, fucking walked away and left me like the prick of the year.

I watched as she ran uneasily toward the back of the cafeteria. She didn't know where to turn, unaware of her surroundings, before she just decided to turn and run down an empty hallway.

My empty hallway. The one I hid in some days just to get away from everyone.

I ran after her, knowing I'd catch her because there was no where she could go.

I had her exactly where I wanted her.

I couldn't help the smile that pulled at my lips as she pushed and kicked hard at that crash door. It would never open because they were chained and padlocked on the opposite end, but watching her squirm and fight to get away from me—knowing she was trapped in my presence—was decadently rewarding.

Well, well, Baby. We don't like it so much when the tables are turned, do we?

It was exactly what she'd done to me all weekend, trapping me inside the confines of my own mind, not like that made me safe. She'd robbed me of sleep and fucking peace of mind. If she felt half as trapped now as I did this weekend we were at least on the same playing field.

I smiled, seeing she'd given up the fight. I let a small chuckle slip out, and she spun forcefully, her beautiful features instantly changing. She wasn't the girl who was struggling to be free, but the determined one who wanted to fucking retaliate in the worst way.

I couldn't help it. No matter what she wore, though these clothes were obviously less flattering, she was beautiful. I stared hard trying to remember the curves of her waist, the long lines of her legs.

I almost got it. Almost.

The memory of her didn't do the real thing justice.

I sighed, defeated, because I just wanted to see her all over again. Justify the insanity that had taken over me. I had to force my voice to come out strong, frustrated as I was. "That door's not gunna open, Gorgeous."

"Don't call me that," she almost screeched, her brown eyes livid.

My heart pounded, and I clenched and unclenched my hands. In that moment I wanted her, like I had in my dream. She was aggressive and something about the tone of her voice went straight to my dick. I started to wonder how loud she would be and if our voices would echo out into the cafeteria.

"Ooh, feisty," I shot back, my mind currently residing in the gutter. "I fucking love that."

She darted then, a little scowl on her face that made my dick twitch, but she hadn't suffered enough. There was no way I was letting her off easy, because she hadn't been so gracious with me. She had to really fucking struggle the way I had, to fight with light and darkness. I blocked her, and she halted; again, she tried to get around me but I cut her off with my arm.

"Going somewhere?" I smiled, because I could begin to see in her eyes the same look that had tortured me all weekend, only I'd seen it before in my own reflection; desperation.

"Yes. Anywhere that you are not."

Good. Go away. Leave me the fuck alone.

"Aw, now is that nice, Sweetie?" I crooned, dragging this out just a little longer. "Look at you. You're so good at this…putting up a fight when you really just want me."

Frankly, I didn't know where that came from. I wanted her, and clearly she didn't want me. She wanted out, because judging from her change in attitude towards me, Shithead Newton had filled her in. And that told me a lot about a girl. Easily manipulated…simple…it would be very easy to get her where I wanted, and to get what I wanted from her.

I was shaking with the promise of resolution as I leaned in close to her, and when she cringed away I staggered at her scent; nothing, no memory I could possibly recall in any shower could even come close to her mouthwatering scent. It was almost too much to bear. I breathed hard against her neck, trying to right myself as I pinched my eyes shut tightly. This pounding in my chest couldn't stay forever, the clamminess of my hands…

Was I seriously fucking sweating bullets for this chick?

Push her away. Ruin it. Make her never want to come back…

My eyes closed as her scent took over me completely, I spoke the words to my freedom. "I love it when they play hard to get."

"Get away!" she screamed, and her small hands planted hard on my chest and just shoved. I was so much stronger than her tiny frame that she barely budged me an inch. I hadn't moved.

Actually, I couldn't.

Because at that precise second, I looked down at her as she looked up at me, and there was no way I was moving from that exact spot, ever. Her brown eyes were fathomless, consumed by the fire that burned outward. They were shiny and dark, glistening with the promise of tears but light enough that I could count every dark line that was etched into the chocolate iris.

It wasn't so much the anger or passion that had floored me, but the fact that I was, in that one moment, as trapped by her as she was by me. These were the exact eyes, the exact gaze that had destroyed my life; had haunted and corrupted my moments of peace. It was how she would have looked in the heat of passion, in my arms, as she came apart in the euphoria only I could give her.

She'd completely robbed me of my soul, like she had in my dreams, pulling it out of me from a place I didn't even think existed. I'd lost all defenses, all of my strength and fight, because against her, I was utterly powerless.

It took me a full fucking second to realize she'd pushed past me and had started running away. But she couldn't. I wouldn't let her just turn and walk away from me because the further she ran and skipped, the more I felt the almost gravitational pull slipping from me. As if I wouldn't be able to stand upright outside of her presence. In it I'd felt healthy. Fulfilled.

Now that she was gone the panic set in again, closing in on me, and I couldn't breathe; she'd stolen the air right out if my lungs. She wasn't there with me. And those were the times that I had to worry the most; those were the times when I didn't know when she'd haunt me next.

I ran after her, ran for both my unexplainable need and my personal sanity. My sneakers slapped the linoleum violently as I called out. "Hey!" I screamed, just as she'd passed the shocked faces of her asshole friends. "Come over here! I'm fucking talking to you!"

But she was already gone, and I was left, for the first motherfucking time in my high school career, embarrassed and alone in the middle of the cafeteria; a spectacle. A once in a lifetime event. Edward fucking Cullen, turned down by a girl.

"Cullen have you fucking lost it this time? Like, really." I turned menacingly to meet Newton's ridiculous gaze. He was awestruck and amused, and I dug my hands in my pockets as I shrugged my shoulder at the prick. Who the fuck was he to laugh, when in reality I'd have a better record of women in High School than he would in his entire life?

"You'd better fucking watch how you talk to me…"

"No…no, Cullen, you had better watch," he laughed now, pure joy showing on all his features. The girls had shrunk down, mute and queasy looking as they hid behind their boys just as Mike stood up, open palms leaning on the table.

"Really, Edward?" he asked again, mocking me.

Him. Fucking mocking me. This kid was dead.

"Bella?"

Huh? Wait…who?

My confusion must have shown on my face, because I felt the heaviness of my brow as I stared into this fucking asshole's face. After all, this whole thing was his fault. He had to have the fucking party.

"BELL-LA," he reiterated, and the girls began to snicker. "Isabella?"

"That doesn't mean anything to me you fucking douche bag, so when you decide to make sense, talk to me." My body angling to turn away, Mike reeled me back in.

"You mean to tell me you don't know her name?"

I froze, completely unmoving save for my breathing. I didn't know her name. I felt like I'd known everything else about her except the most basic thing. I turned back, guarded, never letting on that he had known better than me.

"Her name is Isabella," God, why did that name sound so familiar? "but she prefers to be called Bella."

Appropriate; Bella. It meant beautiful in Italian, and that's exactly what she was—enticingly beautiful and disturbingly addictive; like my own personal brand of heroin.

Mike's face was pink with promise, and from the way his lips smirked, my stomach churned waiting for the guillotine to fall. "Really, Edward?" he repeated cockily. "The Chief's daughter?"

Whoa, wait…Come again?

No…

"You picked the wrong girl this time, Cullen. That was Isabella Swan."

Oh.

Fuck.

Me.

AH! Drama!!!

Read and Review!!!!!! You can also check me out over at Twilighted(DOT)net. There I'm Alyssa Cullen lol

Be safe,

Alyssa Cullen