It's Tuesday at traffic school. Let's see if this day goes better for these two crazy kids. Remember, it's not beta'd but I will read over it & change it 100xs if I see something wrong.


When I was four years old they tried to test my IQ, they showed me this picture of three oranges and a pear.

They asked me which one is different and does not belong, they taught me different was wrong. ~Ani Difranco

I pull up to Bella's house earlier than what I needed to. I put the car in park & wait in the drive for her to come out. I'm hesitant to honk or anything, maybe her parents are still in the bed.

There's a silver Volvo, a red convertible BMW, and a black four door Dodge truck parked in her driveway.

All high end vehicles.

My Infiniti G35 coupe is no clunker, but I know a nice ride when I see one. I wonder what her parents do for a living?

I glance over at the clock, it's eight thirty, traffic school starts at nine. She needs to hurry.

Ten minutes later and my patience is wearing thin. If I don't leave within the next five minutes, I'll be late. I'm cutting it close as it is.

I get out, and slam my door harder than I need to hoping that it will alert my presence. I walk around my car pretending to be looking it over. I decide to approach her front door and do so as if I'm walking toward my execution. I push the doorbell and inside the faint bell echoes throughout the house. I lift my wrist, look down at my watch, and curse the time. I have to leave right now or I will be counted absent.

Shit!

I scramble back out to my car and turn the key. A loud screech comes from underneath the hood because the fuckers all ready running.

I down shift into drive and peel out of her driveway hoping that I left black marks in my haste.

... *lg* ...

I run into the room just as Officer Jenks is sitting down to call role.

Bella ignores me as I slide into the empty seat to her right. I see her stiffen and turn away to face more towards her left.

She is the most aggravating, ludicrous, stubborn thing I've ever had to deal with.

After roll call is done, Officer Jenks begins to drone about the movie we will be watching today about car crashes and how to avoid them.

I could care less.

I lean over closer to her ear, the scent of her hair sweet in my face even as the anger pulses through my veins. "What the hell, Swan?" I say through gritted teeth.

"I told you not to call me Swan," she practically spits each word.

"What the fuck ever, Bel-la. You were supposed to ride with me today."

She shakes her head.

The lights turn down and Jenks pulls down the screen in the front of the room before he walks toward the back to start the projector.

As soon as the introduction of the movie starts, Bella whips her head around to glare at me. "Are you serious, Edward? You didn't even acknowledge me last night at the bowling alley and then today I'm just supposed to ride with you like you're my BFF? I don't think so." She crosses her arms in defiance.

Part of me wants to grin because her anger is kind of cute, but right now, I'm a little too pissed to enjoy it. "Oh, that's how you wanna play it? Well I do recall Princess, that you didn't speak to me either. Don't push all this on me. It goes both ways."

"You're right," she huffs and looks like she wants to say something more, but she doesn't.

"I went by your house and waited," I admit, my tone a little lighter.

"It's for the best," she sighs, her voice lighter too.

We don't speak for awhile; even though there are a million things I want to say.

Eventually, I can't keep my mouth shut any longer. I lean over toward her again, but keep my eyes trained ahead on the movie. "What do you mean?"

She slightly leans toward me, not making eye contact either. "I don't know what you're talking about," she answers. I see her twist her hair in between her fingers out of my periphery.

I scoot my chair closer to her's. "You said it's for the best." I finally turn to face her, "What does that mean?"

She looks over at me, confusion all over her face. She shakes her head, "I can't believe this," she says with aggravation. "Can we wait until lunch?" Her eyebrows raise as she asks. I watch as her eyes pour over my features, pausing on my lips before darting up to eyes and then back down again.

I feel like she's trying to look deeper into me than what I'm showing on the surface. It makes me uncomfortable, so I quickly answer her, "Yeah, sure. Fine, lunch." I slowly nod.

But it seems to be just as difficult for me to tear my eyes away from her. I watch as her eyelashes flutter. Her lips fall open and the silver ball in her tongue taps against her incisor. How did I miss that before? Soon enough, or maybe too soon, her pupils look to the floor and she turns her head back toward the front.

I can't ignore the strange crackle in the air around us. I raise my arm to see if my hair is standing on end. It's not… but the intensity is palpable.

I see Bella shiver and wrap her arms around herself.

I don't stop my crooked grin that emerges knowing that she feels it too.

... *lg* ...

I follow her to the snack room and dig around in my pockets for change for a Dr. Pepper. I toss my gum and twist open the bottle. I refrain from chugging the whole thing in one swallow.

I pull out a chair and sit beside her. She's pulling food out of her backpack.

My stomach grumbles, but I ignore it. I don't have any more cash on me and I'd rather talk to her than leave to get something to eat.

"You want some?" She offers.

I shake my head.

She tears her sandwich in two and lays the big half on a napkin in front of me. "It's homemade pimento cheese. Try it." She takes a bite of her's and nods for me to do the same.

I devour it in three bites. I pick up the napkin and wipe my mouth. "Did you make it?" I finish off my drink. "That was good."

She nods, "Yeah, I did. Tomorrow I'll bring you a whole one." There's a hint of humor in her voice which is much better than the irritation from earlier.

I genuinely smile. Maybe she's not such a bitch after all.

But wait...

"So explain." I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. This has got to be good.

"Explain what, Edward?" Just like that, her annoyance is back.

"Tell me why you said not riding with me was for the best. I don't get it."

"Seriously?" she huffs.

"Hell yeah. I mean it's just a ride." I honestly answer.

"Okay, I'll explain this the best I can. You are Edward Cullen. You are the senior quarterback," she lifts her hand and counts off her fingers as she talks. "You are the captain of the basketball team, I think you play shortstop for the baseball team, and I don't even know what else. You'll be one of the top runners for valedictorian and if you run for class president, you'll win. Need I go on?"

I shake my head, personally, I don't want to hear all this crap.

"To put it in a nut shell, you are one, if not the, most popular guy in school. You could practically have any girl you want and I'm sure guys would fall at your feet just to hang with you. Do you see where I'm going with this?" She rests her elbows on the table and throws her palms up.

"Not really. I don't look at myself the same way you do obviously. But I still don't get why you can't catch a ride with me. What's the harm in it?"

She taps the barbell in her tongue against her teeth again. "Edward, come on. It just isn't that simple. You're Edward Cullen, I'm Bella Swan. We just don't run in the same circles anymore. It's not ...acceptable for us to ride together."

I swallow hard because, I'm offended. Or pissed. Or something along those lines. "Tha-a-a-," I stop and take a deep breath, damn stutters. "Thaaat's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." I say with more venom than I mean to.

"Earth to Edward. What the hell? I know you've attended Northwestern High for the past three years along with the other two thousand people at our school, have you not noticed anything?" Her voice rises again.

"Like what?" I shrug.

"How people just.. just keep to their own. High school doesn't get more segregated than it is at our school. It's everywhere, the halls, the classrooms, the parking lot, the lunch room...everywhere. There's no way you haven't noticed, the cliques at Northwestern..." She trails off and shakes her head.

Again, I feel guilty for no apparent reason at all.

"Yeah, I've noticed-but you got to understand, I distance myself from all that bullshit. I just kind of show up, and my friends are there and I go about my day. It's never been a popularity contest for me. I could care less. I've never really thought much about it."

She rolls her eyes, "Well, obviously, you've never tried to go against the grain either."

"No, I haven't but still.." I lean forward, not sure what to say.

"I recommend you don't. Just keep things easy Edward. Don't push this," she waves her hands around between us, "superficial thing between us. It'll never work."

I'm sure there is one thing she doesn't know about me...

I hate to be told not to do something and there is a reason that rarely happens.

"Bella," I pause to carefully calculate my words. "There isn't any reason, while we're here, that we can't be friends." I look around at our company, "I don't think any of these old farts care about what we do, and I... I won't say anything to anyone outside of this."

And I mean it. What do I have to lose?

She contemplates what I've said, I can practically see her wheels spinning. Debating. Weighing it all out.

She hesitates, "Okay, but I won't tell either. I just don't.. I don't want the drama that us being friends could stir up. I hate confrontation."

Good, it's a start. "Wait a minute, then why did you confront Rosalie last night?" I wonder aloud.

"You heard about that?" Her cheeks stain pink and she huffs again.

"Yeah, I hear... a lot." I smile.

"That bitch deserved it. I can't stand her, and I'm sorry... I know that all her friends are your friends, but I'd rather sleep in a den of angry cobras than share air with those girls. They are so mean." Bella looks ashamed of what she just admitted to me, but I can't help but agree with her.

"Hey," I bump my elbow against her's, "they're not my friends. Just in the same social circle, remember? And most definitely, not by my choice."

"You should find a new circle." Her eyes grow big and she tries to hide her smile.

"Agreed. So tell me, if I hang with all the popular kids," I say with air quotes, "what's the class of your clan?"

She snorts through her noise, "That's easy. Everyone calls us the 'goths' which is really bizarre. The first time I heard that expression, I seriously looked it up because I didn't see myself as such. But after I read the definition, it was spot on for me and my friends. The stupid thing is, the only reason we were labeled that, was because a lot of the time we dressed different. A few dyed their hair black, we painted our fingernails black, and wore fake skull tattoos. It started as a kind of like a joke, but it stuck and we didn't fight it. People think my friends and I are freaks but, for the most part, they leave us alone. It works."

Even as she tells me all this, I can discern the sadness in her voice. It's as those she's said those words to herself so many times, she almost believes it. But I think that maybe she doesn't like her label. Probably in the same way I'm not too crazy about mine.

"My friends are genuine," she adds. "They definitely aren't rude to others just because they're bored."

I nod in agreement, but I'm not responsible for the actions of my friends. It is what it is.

Then I remember something I was going to ask her. "Hey, can you tell me what happened to Ben Cheney? Newton mentioned it last night and I don't think I ever heard the whole story."

Hey eyes narrow and her nostrils flare. She abruptly jumps up out of her seat and starts cleaning up our table. "It's time to go back."

I throw my stuff away and chase after her, again.

"Wait! I take that as a no, you won't tell me?" She sits down in her seat and I watch as she chews on her bottom lip.

I slide into my seat beside her.

"How about this, you ask Emmett McCarty. He's your buddy, right? You ask him first what happened to Ben, then come to me, and I'll tell you what really happened." Her face softens some, but not much. I swear I don't get this girl.

"All right, I'll ask McCarty first." Immediately my mind begins to spin with theories.

... *lg* ...

Bella's quiet on the way toward her house while I debate with myself how to bring up the guy on her back/Tanya thing.

"Ssss-So lasst night? Was that your b-b-boyfriend?" There. That wasn't so hard, this stuttering shit has got to stop though.

"What? Who?" She looks at me like I'm crazy.

"I, I think his name's Jake Black." I say with doubt.

Her shoulders fall and she breathes a sigh of-what is no doubt-relief, "Jacob? No. Not my boyfriend. Definitely not." She giggles to herself.

"Ex?" I question, I'm not sure what's so funny.

"No, Jacob Black has never been my boyfriend, never will be. He's more like a brother, I guess. He's really just a good friend."

"Is there a boyfriend?" I feel like I have to ask.

She whispers a faint 'no' and I feel… relieved? But my first thought is 'what a damn shame.'

The mood around us seems to ease, it's nice.

"What about you? Which... Who's your girlfriend?" she picks at the hem of her shirt as she asks.

Her question catches me off guard, I didn't expect it from her.

"I don't... I don't do the girlfriend thing." It sounds worse than it is, but it's the truth.

"Right," she slightly rocks in her seat. "So your reputation, that's... all true then?"

What the?

How does she make me feel so guilty and ashamed all the damn time for doing absolutely nothing?

"I don't know about that. I wouldn't believe everything you hear." I'm nervous as I say it. There's no telling what she's heard and for the most part, it's probably true.

"Whatever." She sounds disappointed...in me?

We ride in silence, the only sound is the mild roar of my tires against the road. I'm startled when she speaks again.

"So last night, you were with Tanya?" She's not looking at me, she's looking out the window.

"No, no more than you were with Black." I state with all honesty.

She forms an 'O' with her mouth.

I just have to throw her a little bait. "Let's just say Tanya's last name fits her... perfectly."

I watch as she repeats Tanya's last name in her head. I can see her mouthing, 'Rider, Ri-der, Ri..' and then it clicks.

"Holy shit! Really? I didn't know. She's into... girls?" Bella's mouth breaks out into a wide grin and I swear it gets warmer in this car.

And I can't help but add, "Especially brunettes."

"Watch it, Cullen. Not my style." She shakes her head and looks away embarrassed.

We both laugh, I like it.

If she only knew how serious I am.

... *lg* ...

I put the car in park and hope Bella doesn't care about the very present black marks on her driveway.

"Thanks for the ride, Edward." She grabs her bag and pulls the strap up over her shoulder.

"So you'll wait on me in the morning?" I flick at my keys as they dangle from the ignition.

"I'll wait."

"Any big plans tonight?" I ask just to make conversation and because I kind of want to know.

"It's movie night at Westside Park. It's free and.. outside. We usually go if it doesn't rain."

I think about how fun and relaxing that sounds and how lame my posse would think it is.

I frown.

"What about you?" She grabs at the door latch.

"No plans." I answer and blow out a breath.

"Well, I'll see you in the morning." She pops the latch, gets out, and gently shuts the door. She lifts one hand, and wiggles her fingers in a small wave.

I throw my hand up and wave back.

And ignore the want to not leave.

To go watch a movie in the park.

To wonder if it would really be that bad if we were friends.

I look in my rear view mirror one last time before I turn off her street.

Her driveway is now empty.

And I'm already anxious for tomorrow.


URBAN DICTIONARY definition of GOTH: Someone who likes the darker side of things. They usually listen to death metal and goth music, such as Dismember and Bauhaus. Marilyn Manson is NOT goth. He's just...weird. Real goths are not depressing and suicidal like the posers you see at Hot Topic. Goths are fun to be around and aren't afraid to laugh at themselves every so often. They don't worship Satan and aren't evil despite what some ignorant people might say. Goths don't all dress alike either. They like to create their own unique style. Goths are also very intelligent and creative. A lot of them are writers and artists. Goths DON'T envy the popular people. They are what they are because it makes them happy. Goths would rather stay who they are and be among the so called "freaks" than be like everyone else and be popular. They understand that there are more important things in life than popularity, and usually succeed in life while the popular ones don't become much of anything.

If someone becomes "goth" because they couldn't get any friends or are depressed and angry all the time, they are most likely a poser


Most of that definition is Bella and her friends, I wanted you to be able to picture them in your head. More will come out as the fic goes on.

I loved that no one hated on me for Tanya. I am sick of her always chasing Edward & being the villain (I even do it in my other fics). I plan to pop a few more things on you before this ride is done. I hope to update with a smaller chapter by the end of the week.

I still have last ch reviews sitting in my inbox waiting for me to reply. I'm always behind.

XoXo

~Stacy