Author Note: Thanks for the great response to the last chapter! I've updated three times since FF has been wonky with alerts, so if you didn't see all three chapters, please go read and review now! I replied to all reviews last chapter, but you may have to go into your Inbox directly to see the replies.

Teasers for guessing the chapter title from Whitesnake go to: HunterBrooke, ghostreader24, orion03981, and MIRosebud. I might have thrown you all off by calling it a power ballad, since it's not one in the traditional sense, but it's not a hard-rocking song either.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

Chapter 6 – Here I Go Again

I don't hear a word Mr. — I mean Professor Cullen — says as he explains how the class is going to work. My mind is reeling and I feel almost dizzy. How could he be here as my teacher again? I'm certain that the professor's name listed for this class was Maltby or something like that.

And then I start to get angry. Really angry. This can't just be a coincidence, can it? He must have found out where I was planning to go to school and managed to finagle himself a job here. He must have followed me here from Chicago.

I'm still steaming when the student seated in the left front corner of the room stands up, introducing herself as a sophomore English major from Kirkwood. My heart starts beating madly as I realize that it'll soon be my turn. I'm not even sure I can stand up right now, let alone speak coherently without my voice shaking.

Once the student in front of me has sat down, I force myself onto my feet, turning as she did to face the majority of the class seated behind me — mostly to avoid looking at him.

"I-I'm Isabella Swan. I'm a freshman majoring in Communications. I've lived most of my life in Chicago, but I graduated from Lafayette High School in Wildwood last May."

My intro over, I spin around, falling into my seat. Though I try not to, I can't help catching Professor Cullen's eye.

He's white as a sheet.

I try, I really try to pay attention once the class discussion starts. This was the class I'd been so looking forward to, but now I've got to deal with him again.

Or maybe I don't. Admittedly, it's been awhile since I looked at the academic course catalog, but I'm fairly certain that the Before 1790 course had only one section available, while After 1790 had two. I can stop by the Office of the Registrar as soon as class ends and change to the other section!

Once I've made that realization, I start to relax and focus on the class discussions. Of course, I get pissed off again every time Professor Cullen speaks, but I just keep repeating to myself that I'll be out of his class for good before 1pm.

As the last few minutes of class dwindle down, I face a new dilemma — walk out of the classroom and never look back, or confront him? But as I think about him likely following me here, forcing me to deal with him again when I should be learning and growing — I know what I have to do.

When class ends for the day, I take my time getting my things together. I don't want it to look like I'm waiting around to speak to the professor, yet that's exactly what I'm doing. After just a minute or two, there are only two students left in the room, and the other one is standing in front of my nemesis, preening and flirting. It's pretty disgusting to witness.

And then I think, is that what I looked like last year?

Once she's finally left, I take a deep breath, then approach the front of the room, glancing at the door to make sure no one is lingering outside.

"Did you follow me here?" I ask angrily.

Mr. Cullen's eyes widen. "I had no idea you were going to school here, Bella. I thought you were going to U of I. At least that's what I'd heard."

His denial brings me up short. He's either telling me the truth, or he's a really good liar.

In frustration, I turn away, stalking toward the classroom door.

"Bella!" he calls out behind me, but I ignore him. Once I'm out of the room, I start to breathe a little easier, but it's not until I'm standing outside in the hot August sun that I can take a deep breath. Pulling out my copy of the campus map, I search for the main administration building.

I finally find Woods Hall on the map, located a few blocks to the south of the College of Arts & Sciences building. It looks like it could take several minutes to get there, so I walk quickly, just wanting to get this over with. As I near the building, I remember that it's lunchtime, and I wonder if the registrar's office is even open.

Inside, I find an administrative assistant seated at a desk. "May I help you?" she asks, looking up from her computer.

"I'd like to talk to someone about swapping one of my classes."

"Of course," she nods. "Do you have your student ID?"

Taking a seat in the small chair next to her desk, I hand her my ID and she types the number into her computer. "All right, Miss Swan, do you know what change you'd like to make?"

"I'd like to change English Literature After 1790 from the section that met today to the other available section," I reply, holding my breath while she types away on her computer.

"Let's see… there is one other section that meets Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9:30 to 10:45 with Dr. Wall."

"Oh," I frown. "I've got another class then." I guess that's why I chose the class I had.

"Well, if it's that important, we could potentially move your US Civilization class to another section. As a core course, there should be several options available, if they're not already full."

I sigh. I really liked the professor for that class when we met for the first time yesterday. I don't want to completely mess with my entire schedule just to avoid one huge dick.

"No, it's — sorry to waste your time." I give her a polite smile and stand up. "I guess I'll just have to endure it," I complain to myself as I step out into the hallway.

Following my afternoon class, I stop by the grocery store to pick up the ingredients for dinner tonight. Seeing chicken breasts on sale, I know just what I want to make.

Once I get home, I start making my favorite recipe for stuffed chicken breasts. The first step is to pound the chicken flat, so that I can later add the filling and roll it up. I close my eyes, picturing Mr. Cullen's face as I pound and pound.

"My God, Bella, the counters here aren't granite like at my house!" Alice shouts over the noise, startling me. I stop immediately, looking up at her guiltily. "That's better. What's got you all worked up?"

"It-it's part of the recipe to pound the chicken flat," I protest.

"Yeah, but you were enjoying it just a little too much," she grins, running her hands under the faucet in the sink. "Need any help?"

"You can't cook, Alice."

"I can cook!"

"What can you make that's more difficult than peanut butter and jelly?" I ask wryly.

"Well… maybe I could learn if you teach me."

"Fine," I sigh. "You can start on the marinara sauce, maybe? The recipe is on the counter." I nod toward it.

"Wouldn't it be easier to just buy a jar of sauce?"

"Yes, but homemade tastes better. I guarantee you wouldn't like a jar nearly as much as what your family's cook has been serving you for the last half dozen years."

Alice flips me the bird, picking up the can of stewed tomatoes. I've already got the can opener out and sitting on the counter. "So, um… how do I open these?" she asks sheepishly.

"With the can opener." I knew this was a bad idea.

"Nothing's happening," she complains a few moments later.

I sigh, turning around to look. "That's because I hadn't plugged it in yet."

"Oopsie!" she laughs, and I shake my head as I go back to my task, flattening the last chicken breast.

"Seriously, Bella," Alice begins once I'm finished, "you seem a little too into that. Is something wrong?"

I sigh, turning to face my friend. I wish I could tell her exactly what's wrong, but… I'm scared. Alice isn't a judgmental person by nature, but I had sex with my high school teacher. I'm afraid that she'll look at me differently. I need to tell her something close enough to the truth so that she'll understand.

"Remember that older guy I was involved with?" She nods, looking at me with rapt attention. "Well, the professor from this morning's class really reminded me of him."

"How so?" she asks, eyes wide.

"He's… really good-looking. And his green eyes are nearly identical. It just pissed me off having to look at someone who reminds me of the low point in my life."

She smiles sympathetically. "Which class?"

"English Literature after 1790 — the one I'd really been looking forward to."

"Ugh," she wrinkles her nose. "I can see why you're pissed."

I nod. "I tried to change to the other class section, but it's at the same time as one of my other classes, so…" I trail off, shrugging.

"Well, that sucks. But I'm sure as the class goes on, you'll be able to see the professor as his own person and not just a reminder of your ex."

"Yeah," I sigh. Little does she know.

Unlike the hopeful and excited mood I had walking into my literature class on Wednesday, I'm now dreading it on Friday. This time, Professor Cullen is already there when I arrive, but I try not to glance his way as I take my seat.

Throughout the class, I try as hard as I can to forget who he is and just pay attention to the discussions that he leads. He really seems to be in his element here, with a classroom full of mostly sophomores who want to study English Literature. The students bring up so much more interesting points than in either of my high schools. I even find myself adding to the discussion.

When the class is over, I gather up my things, not trying to take my time as I did after our first class. I'm halfway to the door when I hear, "Ms. Swan," in that velvety voice. Stopping, I turn around, looking up at Mr. Cullen.

He waits until the last student is out of the room before he speaks. "I've got to admit, I didn't expect to see you in class today, Ms. Swan. I assumed you were going to run away from me again."

I grit my teeth, my blood boiling. In my anger, I end up spitting out the truth. "I already had another class scheduled at the same time as the alternate section."

His face lights up in a sickening smirk. "So you did try to change classes."

"What are you doing here?" I ask angrily, changing the subject.

"I was offered a job here, Ms. Swan. I completed my PhD earlier this year," he explains. "You probably knew that."

"I didn't keep tabs on you," I lie.

He shrugs. "You knew it was my goal to teach at a university; I jumped at the first opportunity."

"My syllabus said Dr. Maltby taught this class."

"Yes," he nods. "Dr. Maltby asked for an indefinite leave of absence to take care of his wife, who had a stroke over the summer. I was hired just to replace him for now, though they're considering expanding the department soon, so it may turn into a full-time gig.

"Ms. Swan, I hope we can find a way to co-exist. I've always valued your contributions to class discussions."

I can't help it; I smile involuntarily at the compliment.

"I've missed your smile," he says quietly.

My smile falters. "Go to hell." Turning, I stalk out of the room.

To my surprise, Mr. Cullen leaves me alone the following week. I participate in the class discussions as I normally would, and he pays me no special attention. I can almost deal with him being my teacher again if he's going to treat me like any other student. Almost.

After class on Friday, I head to The Nosh cafeteria in the Millennium Student Center for lunch, sitting down at a small table by myself to study after I've eaten, since I have a test today in my afternoon class. I've just pushed my tray to the side when I hear the sound of the chair across from me being pushed back from the table.

Looking up, my eyes narrow when I see Professor Cullen with a tray holding a burger and a drink on the table in front of him. "Following me again?" I ask angrily.

"And how was I to know you were here?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"It's lunchtime." Duh.

He chuckles. "And so it is. I forgot to bring a lunch to heat up in my office today, forcing me to eat here."

"There are plenty of other tables," I hint.

"There are," he agrees, "but you're sitting at this one, and I wanted to talk to you."

"We have nothing to discuss, Professor Cullen."

He sighs. "For God's sake, call me Edward. You've had my tongue in your mouth… among other things," he smirks.

"We have nothing to discuss, Edward," I snark, trying to ignore that reminder.

"Why did you leave Chicago?" he asks.

"So I didn't have to deal with you!" I almost shout. "Yet here you are, interrupting my lunch."

"Your tray looks empty," he remarks.

"Do you always have to be such an asshole?"

He sighs again, closing his eyes as he tears at his hair. "I'm sorry that you've been carrying around this anger for the last nine months. If you'd have just let me explain, maybe… maybe you could let go of some of it."

"I'd completely forgotten about you."

"Liar," he smirks, raising my ire once again. "Look, Bella… there are some things you don't know, some things that might make a difference if you'd just hear me out."

"You keep saying that!"

"And you keep refusing to listen. It's not for me, all right? I accept that you hate me because I wasn't honest with you. It's for you, so you can get some… I don't know, peace of mind?"

I lean back in my seat, staring across the table at him as I consider his words.

He has said something similar before, that I might feel differently about what happened between us if I'd just let him explain. But what possible explanation could there be? He introduced the blonde woman as his wife. He's married, and he didn't think that important enough to mention it before we had sex.

No, there's nothing he could say that could change my mind about him. Standing up, I lift my backpack onto my shoulders, then pick up my tray.

"Bella, please," he begs.

"Your burger's getting cold," I tell him as I walk away. I guess I'll go study in the Quiet Lounge.

A/N: So Bella tried and failed to switch classes, but she's sticking it out! She's still not willing to let him explain though. Should she give him a chance? Do you believe him when he says it's just a coincidence that he talk a short-term job at the same school she's attending?

Next update on Monday. I really hope FF has fixed its shit by then.

For a teaser: Another #1 power ballad from late in the decade, but this one is really tough without context. It's Bella's birthday but I couldn't think of any good titles related to that.