BPOV
I could feel the light from the rising sun seeping through the window, and through my closed lids.
Ugh! Morning already? I put the pillow over my eyes and groaned audibly.
"Come on Bella, get up, you have a history quiz today." I heard someone saying softly.
I sat up so quickly, that I fell out of the bed, taking my lamp with me. I shrieked as I toppled to the floor.
Edward ran over to my side, helping me untangle myself from the lamp cord.
"Are you alright?" He asked, his brow puckered in concern.
I couldn't speak. What on earth was he doing in my room? I looked around the room, assessing the situation. Crap. What had happened last night?
"Bella?" He asked, shaking me gently to get my attention.
"You" I said pointing to the bed, "Me"... I couldn't talk. Me and my History teacher?
He looked confused for a second, then comprehension dawned on his face. "What? No! No, you passed out after Anthony's call, and I carried you here." he said, looking slightly panicked. Like I wouldn't believe him.
"Oh." I said, my cheeks burning at my quick assumption. Then his words sunk in. "Anthony." I whispered, as I slipped out of his grasp and slumped down on the bed.
He sat next to me, though I was still rather uncomfortable. I put my hands over my face, as I felt hot tears leak from my eyes. I couldn't stand much more of this. He had found me. Again.
"Bella," He said, pulling me into his chest. I stiffened. He must have sensed my discomfort, for he let go of me quickly. "Look at me," He whispered.
I slowly pulled my face out of my hands, and looked up into his eyes. They were a beautiful emerald green. Dark, and mysterious. His face was close to mine, and I could smell a hint of peppermint on his breath.
"I wont let him hurt you, I promise." His words held such determination, and honesty, that I couldn't help but feel protected.
We stared at each other for what felt like eternity. His face so close to mine I could have counted every lash.
I blinked. He pulled away, looking annoyed with himself.
"Don't worry Bella, you are safe now." He stood up and walked to the door, "you'd best get dressed, we have school." he said, closing the door behind him.
I stared after him.
I came to my senses, and found that my heart was beating faster than I could have thought possible. And for the first time, in a long time, I felt my hope rekindled.
I stepped out of my room, wearing my customary baggy clothes. My hair up in a tight ponytail.
I could smell something coming from the kitchen. It smelled good.
"Ah, good," was all he said when he saw me. He turned back to the stove and continued to cook. I sat down, watching him with awe. He reminded me of those adorable chefs you would see on television, mixing, and baking, and cooking, looking very gorgeous doing it.
Stop it Bella! (Sometimes I had to be harsh with myself) He is your History teacher for heavens sake!
He pulled out a plate and slid a perfect looking omelette onto it. It looked delicious. He handed me a fork.
"Eat," he said simply.
Oh. It looked so good. I just wanted to scarf it down. But I couldn't.
I just sat there like an idiot, staring at my plate.
"Bella? Is there something wrong?" He asked looking concerned as he turned from the stove.
"Uh, no. . . I," what could I say? I just looked at him helplessly.
He smiled kindly. "Are you hungry?"
I shook my head.
"Alright." was all he said, understanding.
He motioned me to the door. I noticed that he had changed, wearing a black button down shirt, sleeves rolled up halfway, and dress pants. It suited him.
I smiled slightly as I grabbed my abandoned books off the counter and left.
EPOV
I didn't like it. I didn't like it at all. It was obvious that Bella didn't eat because of the trauma she had experienced. She was thin, yes, but it had never crossed my mind that Bella may have an eating disorder of sorts. It was sick.
I opened the door for her. She nodded graciously, as we stepped into the school.
We were here early, being a teacher, I needed to arrive before the students.
She looked around the empty school, our footsteps echoing through the halls.
I passed Olivia Corner, a suspicious old math teacher.
"Good Morning Mrs. Corner." I said politely.
She just stared at Bella and I walking down the hall, ignoring my attempt at civilized conversation.
The teachers here didn't like me very much, thinking that I was too young to be teaching.
Forks had been in need of a History teacher, and was willing to take just about anybody. I had graduated with my bachelors, and was ready to teach. So, I accepted the job. As for becoming coach, one day I had been shooting some hoops in the gym after school, and the principal had walked in, and asked if I was willing to be the basketball coach as well. I heartily agreed.
Unfortunately though, I was only twenty one, going on twenty two. Though I tried to act older. I found that High school students had no respect for you if they found that you were just three years older than they.
Ah well.
I looked around, realizing that Bella no longer walked beside me. I looked around frantically, and found her a good ten feet behind. She was standing at her locker, putting in the combo.
I retraced my steps and stood at her side. She opened it and threw her books into it grabbing her ipod, and a reading book. I glanced at the cover. Wuthering Heights, that was a good book. It could be read over and over and it never became old.
I unlocked the door to my classroom.
She followed me, and sat down in her regular seat. She didn't have me first, but I suppose it gave her something to do.
I pulled out a stack of papers, wanting very badly to talk with her, to break the silence, but I didn't know what to say.
UGH! I was being foolish! Acting like a silly schoolboy with a crush! Stupid, stupid, stupid!
I set the papers down on my desk a little too forcefully, and Bella looked up.
"What's wrong?" She asked, her sweet voice soft and clear.
"Nothing dear," I said, without thinking. I swallowed hard. Crap.
She tuned back to her book, but I was pleased to see a shadow of a smile cross her face.
Just then, Mike, one of my students, walked through the door. He was on the team.
"Hey Coach," He said, his chest puffed out, and his head held high in an arrogant manner. Since he was on the team, I probably should have liked him. But I didn't. He always annoyed me, he was an overconfident little twerp, and I didn't like him even though (to my great vexation) he was an incredible player.
"Uh, hi Mike, what brings you to my side of town?" I asked, pasting on a fake smile.
"Well I just stopped by to tell you that I the boys and I have been practicing some new plays, so you don't even have to worry about the next game, I have it all figured out." He said, smiling, waiting me to thank him.
"Thanks Mike, but I'm pretty sure I have everything under control." I said, feeling tired.
"But - But Coach, I told you, you have nothing to worry about! I am perfectly capable of coaching the team."
"But Mike, it isn't your job to coach, its mine."
He rolled his eyes. "Whatever Coach," Then he turned walking toward the door, he then saw Bella sitting there for the first time, and he went to sit next to her.
"Hey," he said, smiling his best.
She looked up, her innocent eyes huge. "Hello." I could tell that she didn't like his attention.
"I'm Mike, Mike Newton," He held out his hand for her to shake. She took it between her thumb and middle fingers and gave it a polite tug.
"I am Eliz-" He stopped her.
"Elizabeth Anderson" he said, still flashing his pearly whites.
"How did you know my name?" she asked, looking confused.
"I know all of the beautiful girls in this school," he said, leaning back.
Just how he knew all of the girls in the school . . .
"That's nice," She said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
"How 'bout we have dinner sometime, at my place," Her eyes widened, if possible, even more.
"Uh . . ."
"I think you'd best go to class Mr. Newton," I said, a hint of anger in my voice.
He turned and looked at me, a look of annoyance on his face, "Whatever Coach."
"See ya later 'Liz," He said, winking at her, before he left the room.
I looked over at Bella, she was red as a beet.
"So, are you going to take him up on his dinner offer?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could.
She shook her head, looking fearfully at the door he had just exited, "I hope not."