DISCLAIMER: it goes without saying. Mrs. Meyer owns all.

Author's Note...I am astounded that there are actually people reading my story. SO thankful for those of you who put me on story alerts or favorites. I am also so stinking excited to say that I now have a beta...an awesome beta at that. So thanks to you, klarsen18!

IN this chapter we find E and B in 9th grade.


Chapter Seven---Dateless, Not Defective (1989)

"Alice, what is it? Why am I defective?"

I stood in my room in front of my full-length mirror examining the girl I saw there. I was fifteen and had grown into my body and no longer leaned toward the chunky side. My skin still had occasional breakouts, but I was able to conceal them pretty easily with makeup. My newly straightened teeth were no longer covered with metal and I'd learned how to coif my brown permed hair without producing the chronically frizzy mess I'd sported the two years prior.

I wasn't perfect by any stretch, not even close really. But in my estimation I wasn't that bad either, especially considering how far I'd come since those first days at Sam Houston Junior High.

"You aren't defective," Alice said thoughtfully, with a tilted head. She examined my look as if she didn't already have an opinion of it from five years of friendship. "You're just dateless. Dateless, not defective."

"Dateless to the biggest event of our ninth grade year."

I fell back on my bed dramatically and stared up at my Michael J. Fox photo shrine painstakingly taped to my ceiling. "Make that the biggest event of our whole junior high experience."

"You still have two days to miraculously get a date," She added, undoubtedly trying to sound optimistic.

"Alice, there are no more dates to be had! Just call me Bella Swan, social pariah."

I flipped over on my stomach and buried my head in my favorite pillow. The one with the pillowcase that everyone at your slumber party signs with a special fabric marker.

"What did I ever do to become the class reject anyway?" I moaned woefully into my pillow.

"You aren't a reject, Bella. But if you really want to know why you are dateless, I'll tell you," Alice said seriously. It was uncharacteristically somber of her actually, and it made me feel instantly anxious.

I flipped back over and sat up at attention, using my pillow to brace my stomach. "You mean you actually know?"

"Let's just say I have a theory."

"It's because I work in the main office during 3rd period isn't it? People think I'm a suck up nerd, right?"

"You are a suck up nerd, but that's not the reason." She winked at me playfully. Then she raised her overly plucked eyebrows. "I'll tell you my theory, but you have to promise not to be mad at me."

"I won't get mad, Alice."

"Swear on it."

"Fine, I swear I won't get mad. Just tell me!"

"Okay then." She stood up and began to pace the length of my room. "Let's just say there is a general confusion about you, if you will, among the boys at Sam Houston." Alice sounded and looked exactly like a trial attorney.

"Confusion?" My heart palpitated in my chest and I felt flushed all over. What did that mean? Did the boys think I was a lesbian?

Alice exhaled loudly as if it pained her to speak on the subject. I could see through the gesture however, because I knew she was deep into her thespian phase. She had employed the use of dramatic pauses, deep breaths and exaggerated facial expressions to punctuate her communication.

She sat down on my bed beside me, steepled her index fingers and looked at me over them. This was yet another very calculated theatrical move.

"The guys seem to think you like Edward. That you are with him."

"With Edward?"

"Yes, with Edward." Another dramatic pause. "You are constantly around him and it sends out the wrong message."

"The wrong message?"

"The completely wrong message."

"Whatever. That's ridiculous," I huffed indignantly. "It's obvious we are like brother and sister. Anyone can see that."

My mom was still the only other person on the planet who knew the truth about my feelings for Edward. Was I just fooling myself to think it was a safely concealed secret, while all the while the entire school and my incredibly flighty best friend could see right through me?

"But you know how it is." Alice looked over at me with her black-brown eyes opened wide. "You're seen with a guy more than twice and presto magic, everyone thinks you're a couple. You have to face it. Edward is single handedly murdering your love life, and you're the only one that can do a thing about it."

"Meaning?"

"Back off from him. Get some space. Sever yourself from the conjoined twin, for goodness sake!"

"Gosh, Alice. Harsh much?"

"Just think about it, Bella. Edward has a different girlfriend every two weeks, and you've yet to have a boyfriend. He has a date to the dance, and you don't. Your arrangement with him is hurting no one but you. That's all I'm saying."

Her words slapped me in the face and left me speechless. I'm not sure what stung worse. The fact that Alice was spot on right, or the fact that I'd known the truth myself but was completely unwilling to do anything about it.

When it came to Edward, I'd gladly take scraps and leftovers. I'd gladly be the one he called only after he'd gotten off the phone with his girlfriend. I'd willingly be the one he'd meet up with under Our Tree only after he'd just played tonsil hockey with his flavor of the week. When it came to him I'd take what I could get, even if it meant being an afterthought sometimes. This is because I knew the Edward I got was the real Edward.

I got the boy who resented his dad and felt left behind and disregarded. I got the Edward who took on an early morning paper route so he could help his mom make ends meet. I got the guy who could play the piano by ear, and who mourned the day his dad took his piano away because his new house "needed more furniture in the formal living room."

Right or wrong, getting to be with that Edward, the Edward no one else really knew, made whatever else that came along with it worth it to me.

"You're mad, and you promised not to get mad," Alice huffed with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. "You totally promised."

"I'm not mad, Al. I'm really not. I'm just taking it all in, I guess."

She leaned over and caressed my face with her hand, closing her eyes as if in pain. It was a gentle gesture that would have touched my heart, had I not seen the very dramatic license in it.

"Listen. Maybe you'll get a date? There's still time, sort of," Alice offered. "If not, maybe you could tag along with that big group that's going together?"

"That big group is down to three people. And two of the three are the foreign exchange students."

"That one from Germany is totally fine."

"But he barely speaks English."

Alice arched one eyebrow--an ability she possessed that I totally coveted. "That wouldn't bother me. Around him I wouldn't be so concerned about talking anyway."

In moments like that I found myself wondering how I was such good friends with this insanely boy crazy, free spirit who couldn't have been more my opposite.

"Well, I'm definitely not going to Ninth Grade Banquet with a group, especially if I have to tag along," I announced with resolve.

"Guess I can't blame you there."

Alice really did look sympathetic in that moment, but it was fleeting. She glanced down at her Swatch and wrinkled her nose.

"Bella, I'm really, really sorry but I have to go now. We'll talk about this later, I promise."

Which meant we'd talk about it again only if Alice didn't have anything else more pressing to ramble on about, including, but not limited to: how cute Randal Springer looked in his Vans; her certainty that our PE coach hated Alice's guts and would probably put out a hit on her at some point; her secret obsession with Dan Qualye and his "sexy-conservativeness;" and how she had to find a way to see Sex, Lies and Videotape or she might die.

She stood up and extended her arms in the air to stretch. Arching her back to deepen her stretch, she pushed her perky chest forward. I immediately looked down at my own AA cup chest and transiently wondered if it might factor into my chronically dateless status.

"Where are you headed?"

"Well, I have a final fitting for my banquet dress," she hesitated. "Did you, um, want to come along?"

"I wish I could," I lied, "but I need to get to work on an English paper."

"Oh. Okay. Have fun with that paper. And, like, weirdly enough, I'm pretty sure you actually will have fun."

"You know me." I played along.

"And, keep your chin up, kay? Because you are so not defective."

"Thanks, Alice."

She walked toward my door and blew a kiss to my Bon Jovi poster on the way out. "Oh, and Bella, look on the bright side. There's a new Quantum Leap on tonight!"

"I'll be waiting on pins and needles," I replied mockingly, though my sarcasm was lost on Alice. She was crazy over Scott Bakula, just one of many older men she found irresistible.

Once I heard her footsteps become faint and the slam of the front door, I went to my closet and closed myself in. Pushing aside several pairs of jeans, I grabbed a pink garment bag with Gown Town written on it in fancy metallic gold letters. I slowly unzipped it and pulled out an amethyst taffeta dress with a fitted bodice and puffy elbow length sleeves. I held in my hands preciously.

Leaning back against my closet wall, I slid down it to the floor where I sat with the dress carefully perched in my lap. Tears welled up in my eyes and quickly spilled over.

Things were not playing out as I'd so hoped they would. In a perfect world, I was supposed to wear that beautiful purple dress, complete with dyed to match pumps and clutch. I was supposed to get a special up-do and manicure at the salon. I was supposed to wear my mom's genuine amethyst drop necklace. And I was supposed to be on the arm of my best friend, who would no doubt be wearing a cummerbund and tie to perfectly complement my dress.

So much for a perfect world and what's supposed to be.

When we purchased the dress several months prior, my mom and I had assumed I'd be going to the dance in some form or fashion. Of course, I was holding out hope that Edward would ask me. Even so, I figured if he didn't, someone would, and I'd go to that dance in my stunning purple dress and make Edward insanely jealous.

Instead, with just two short days left to go, I had no date and no prospects of one. Mostly I was sad and embarrassed. Ultimately I was frustrated at myself because I believed I was letting my mother down, not to mention wasting a lot of money on a dress that would never see the light of day.

Of course my mom was as supportive and loving as ever about it all, but in her eyes I could see she was distressed. That was all the motivation I needed to put on my brave face around her.

Yet in moments when I knew I was completely alone, I dropped the stoic act altogether. To miss the dance because I couldn't get a date was a monumental humiliation. And when the weight of that humiliation felt too heavy to bear, I'd hold my beautiful dress and cry alone in my closet.

Mom took me to dinner on the actual night of the dance, as a way to distract me I'm sure. She called it our Girls Night Out, but who was she kidding? It was the ultimate pity date, and we both knew it.

Red Lobster was considered fancy in our household, so I recognized she was pulling out all of the stops when she suggested we go there. I scarfed my all time favorite seafood dish, shrimp scampi, and after we split a slice of cheesecake we went see Big starring Tom Hanks. It really was a great night, but no matter how much fun we had, my heart still hurt when I thought of what I was missing out on.

I went to my room that night after the pity date and hunkered down by myself, fulfilling every cliché out there by eating massive amounts of chocolate. I watched my bedside clock like a hawk, imagining in my mind what Alice and her date might be doing with each passing minute. Unfortunately, images of Edward and his date crossed my mind as well. As much as I desired not to dwell on them, I couldn't stop doing just that.

My imagination ran away with itself, helped along by my soundtrack for the evening, my favorite Richard Marx tape. His soulful lyrics about love and longing made me emotional even when absolutely nothing was awry in my world. So I shouldn't have been surprised by my outright weepiness, nor by the fact that I ended up crying myself to sleep.

Some time later I awoke from a fitful slumber to the sound of tapping on my bedroom window.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I rubbed my eyes, focusing on the numbers of my digital clock, certain it was the wee hours of the morning. Shockingly, the lit green numbers told me it was only 12:00 am.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I rolled over and flipped on my bedside lamp. Shifting my bleary gaze toward my window, I could make out a familiar shape through my sheer drapes. I hurried over, pulled back my sheers and found Edward looking in at me from the other side of the glass.

He had on his tux shirt and pants, and even donning just the partial get up, he looked like a male model in the Prom version of Teen Magazine. I quickly opened my window and helped him squeeze through it.

"Dude. When did your window get so tiny?" he asked, as he maneuvered awkwardly into my room.

"Since you got to be so big, goof."

"Oh yeah," he replied sheepishly. "Guess it's been a few months since I crawled through it, huh?"

The volume in which he spoke clued me in that he was not in touch with what the fact that my entire household was sound asleep.

"Edward, shhh. My parents probably wouldn't be too jazzed about me having a boy in my room at midnight."

"It's just me," he whispered in a much more appropriate middle of the night decibel.

"No matter who you are, it's never a good idea to sneak into the room of a girl whose dad packs heat."

"Aw, Officer Swan would never shoot me."

He plopped down onto my large yellow vinyl beanbag, which made an airy pahh sound as the beads within it shifted around to accommodate him.

"So." I crossed my arms over my chest when it registered to my brain that I was standing there in an oversized Duran Duran t-shirt with no bra on. "Whatcha doing here?"

"Wanted to check in. Just got home from the dance."

I walked over to my bed and got into it, pulling the sheets and comforter up to my chin.

"So how was it? The dance and all?" My tone was purposefully casual and light. My goal was to come off disinterested; almost as if I'd forgotten the dance had even happened that night.

"Aw. It was okay I guess," he replied, sounding exactly like he did when describing a weekend in Midland with his dad and Fran and their new baby. He loathed those weekends in Midland.

"Just okay?" A glimmer of hope ignited within me at the idea that Edward might not have had the time of his life. Maybe just maybe, he didn't hold his date up in the air like Johnny did Baby in Dirty Dancing, as I envisioned earlier that evening.

"My date was a drag."

"I thought you really liked Makenna?" My voice remained steady, not giving away the pure elation inside of me.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. I noticed his hair must have been gelled down with a lot of product, because it didn't move at all.

"I like how Makenna looks. If only she could keep her mouth shut."

"Nice, Edward."

"Well, it's true," he replied defensively. "She is such a princess. She was ordering me around all night. I swear nothing's ever good enough for her."

"That's not exactly news. Why do you put up with her?"

"She's hot and she's a good kisser."

"Oh." It was all I could muster.

My stomach lurched at his words and my inner elation was knocked off its high horse. I was fully aware of Edward and his experienced lips, but hearing about it firsthand was a whole different matter.

"I don't know why I didn't think of this," he looked up at me genuinely baffled, "but we should've gone to the dance together, Bells. I mean we would have had a blast making fun of everybody there."

"Yeah." I feigned enthusiasm, hoping to mask how I annoyed I was with him for coming up with such a brilliant idea only after the fact.

"You should've seen Coach Dawson. Bella, he tried to break dance. Who break dances anymore?"

"Definitely not Coach Dawson."

"Definitely not Coach Dawson." Edward smiled one of his heart stopping crooked smiles; the kind where his dimple was deep and his eyes looked like they had light in them. The kind of smile that made it altogether impossible for my universe not to revolve around him as if he were the sun.

He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "So how was your night? Were you sad and stuff?"

"Nah," I lied. "Mom and I had a great time really."

"Take it from me. You and your mom probably had a better time than most of us at the dance. You didn't miss anything."

"Might have been nice to go though," I admitted quietly, lowering my eyes.

I wondered how different Alice's assessment of the dance would be. Somehow I imagined she would describe it as nothing short of magical, and the night of the year. Likely the truth sat somewhere between Edward's version and hers.

"So, you wanna do something?" Edward asked me, as if it were two in the afternoon and not the middle of the night. He nonchalantly tossed a hacky sack ball he'd found on my floor, back and forth between his hands.

"It's after midnight, Edward. There's not a lot we can do right now."

"Wow. Seriously? Doesn't feel that late. Maybe I'm just wide awake from all the cokes I drank?" He hopped up from the beanbag. "I guess I should let you get back to sleep, huh?"

I opened my mouth to protest and all that came out was a big yawn. "Sorry."

"Don't be, Bella. I'm the one that came over without looking at a clock. We'll do something later."

He made his way back to my window completely unaware of how I scrutinized his every move in those tux pants. Then he turned back toward me, almost catching me in the act of gawking.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Eric Yorkie asked about you tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"When he saw me with Makenna he was surprised, because for some reason he figured I was bringing you to the dance. Eric was with Maggie Alistair, who is like his second cousin or something. Which is sort of weird. Anyway, he said he had wanted to take you to the dance and wished he'd known you didn't have a date."

"Wow," I replied, genuinely stunned. "I wish he'd done his homework. He would have been fun to go with."

"Maybe next time?" Edward said nonchalantly, while maneuvering half his body through the window. "I'll call you later?"

"Sure," I answered him absentmindedly.

The rest of him disappeared through my window and he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the faint smell of his Polo cologne in the air.

I would've loved to have gone to the dance with Eric. He was funny, had a one of a kind pair of Converse his rich uncle got him in New York, and he looked really good in his wrestling uniform. He was decently popular and desirable, and had apparently found me to be decently popular and desirable.

Just knowing that Eric had wanted to go with me was almost as good as actually going. That alone should have been the bit of information responsible for redeeming my Ninth Grade Dance nightmare. I knew it should have been, but what meant more to me than Eric Yorkie's interest, was knowing that Edward wished he'd been with me.

He'd endured Makenna in all her diva-ness, only to come knocking at my window when it was all said and done. He'd put on a tux and bought a corsage for her, only to wish I'd been the one by his side when it came down to it.

Pathetic as it was, his midnight visit to my window was enough to keep me hanging on. When it came to Edward, he invariably and unknowingly did something every time to keep me hanging on, no matter what it meant I was giving up.

Too restless too go back to sleep, I leaned over to my boom box and pushed play. Then I stared at a picture of Edward that sat on my bedside table, wishing I could have discreetly snapped one of him in his tux. Edward in a tux was a new thing, a delicious new thing for sure.

As my eyes fell upon the photograph of the beautiful boy next door- the boy I'd do anything for, and take anything from- Richard Marx's melodic voice once again filled my room. I found it quite ironic that the tape was on track five, a song called Right Here Waiting.

And oh how I was.


Check out this link to hear the awesomeness that is "Right Here Waiting." www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=8i4fK4Fc7Ms Copy and Paste into your browser (sorry...couldn't figure out how to link it). Granted, the song is very dated, but it's still awesome. On a side note, Richard Marx was my first concert when I was 13...first time I ever saw grown women throwing theirs bras on to a stage!

Next chapter up...we go back to present day. You just might get to meet Bella's fiance, and like it or not, you might actually find him endearing. :) He's still no Edward, but I'm just saying...