AN:I'm going to be getting a laptop soon, which means more typing time…yay! And you know what more typing time means…quicker, longer chapters! (Right now, it's just too much trouble to drag my behind downstairs, wait 15 minutes for the computer to load, launch Word and get it randomly shut down every 15 minutes.) So don't yell at me if these months are tough, kay? Mid-Ts are coming up, and the teachers are worse and worse every day, so I'll try, but it probably won't be good.

Because of popular demand, I made this chapter longer! (You're welcome, by the way. No, really.)

So, we fast-forward in time! (A lot.)

Enjoy.

Bella age 16!


[EPOV]

Another one.

Yet another young, immature boyfriend.

Bella's footsteps were scraping up against the winding, concrete driveway. Following her footfalls were another set, slower and heavier, more plodding.

Another one she'd dragged home for Esme and Carlisle to meet. However, the ultimate betrayal was that Esme and Carlisle, whom I'd always known to be rational and logical, encouraged her each time! To see her bring a new one back, every few weeks, brought joy and warmth to their hearts, to see her so.

I didn't see it.

Call me cold-hearted and apathetic, but I truly didn't.

The pair wasn't even halfway across the driveway yet and I could tell that this one might be setting the new record for the stupidest boy she's ever brought home. His thoughts were slow, and I knew he was dumbly nodding up and down, up and down, at everything Bella said, a bobble-head doll. Every now and then he would laugh a slow, stupid chuckle, and Bella would prattle on like nothing had happened.

Yes, the little human of the family had experienced quite a change.

She'd gone from the quiet and brainy girl at the back of the classroom to the center of attention in just a few years. She'd slimmed down and stretched out, and her features turned beautiful—overnight, it seemed. In public, many a man's thoughts turned to her, so many that I had to glare at their filthy eyes protectively. This new sister of mine, this social butterfly, skipped from boy to boy, raising the hopes of many, disappointing more. I'd not the heart to tell her my thoughts, not while she looked so happy, but when I talked to Carlisle and Esme, they were quite surprised! They found nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with that arrangement, and moreover, Alice and Rosalie were of no help to my cause either. Emmett and Jasper would never take my argument against their girls', so I remain alone in my cause.

The front door swung open, and the two sets of feet stomped through. I heard shoes being kicked off, but I stayed right where I was—in my little corner of the kitchen we so rarely use, glowering.

"Esme!" Bella hollered.

Oh, another fine young man, Esme thought, excitement poisoning her brain. She appeared next to me. "Come on in, sweetie," she called, pretending she was in the kitchen all along.

Alice came up behind me. "Another one," she whispered. "She chose this one with rather poor taste, all right; look at him!" she hissed in my ear.

And look at him I did.

Physically speaking, there was nothing wrong with this kid. He was rather tall; he had a messy mop of sandy hair on his head, flopping into his eyes; well-muscled; facial features smooth and straight; but one could see in his eyes the lack of luster, the dullness of his mind. I'd seen him before in the school, I was sure; however, his mind was not particularly sharp or very outstanding.

"Poor taste," Alice repeated behind me.

Meanwhile, Esme had glided up to him warmly and shook his hand, welcoming him in. Like all the others, Mike was curious at Esme's skin temperature, but decided not to peruse into this anomaly. Bella introduced each of us in turn. Alice put on her usual happy face and met him, but my face remained hard and cold—statue-like, for sure—while Bella once again rolled her eyes and heaved a dramatic sigh at my unwelcoming demeanor.

"Well," she said at last. "Mike and I are going to be upstairs working on our history project. We'll be up there if you need us." The pair ran up the staircase and into Bella's bedroom. She didn't close it; we could hear the sounds of materials shuffling about, low conversation, and an occasional laugh.

I sighed and slowly started toward the staircase, when one word, loud, sharp and clear, broke into my thoughts.

Jealousy.

I heard Jasper's thought just as clearly as if he'd said it out loud. He, Emmett and Rosalie were just coming in through the garage door.

"What?!" I demanded.

Jealousy. I just said it!

"Now, you know that's not what I mean," I hissed. My hands were clenching into fists, now, and I'd turned toward him, as if looking straight at him would explain his outrageous ideas.

Jealousy. Believe it or not, Edward, I sometimes know more about you than you do yourself. You're never happy with any of the boys she brings home. You know, that's actually part of the reason she's going through so many guys—she wants your approval. But you'll never approve.

I glared at him. "So what are you implying?" I finally asked.

You love her. And you want her for yourself, not for a human.

"Bullshit," I said, cursing for the first time in quite a while—it's not my style, so to speak, to use profane language, but nothing else quite described my attitude toward his conclusion. "I want the best for Bella. She'll find that right guy sometime, somewhere."

"You keep telling yourself that," Jasper replied, calm and serene. "But I'd suspected it for a while, now."

Alice's eyes were narrowed, darting between us, trying to decipher something. The rest ignored our little half-conversation, having learned a long, long time ago that it was a waste of mind power to try.

You're in denial. But no matter what you say to me now, you know you're jealous. That little twisting of your gut every time one of her guys come home, that little twinge; you try to write it off as disapproval, but it's jealousy. And it's got to stop! You want a good future for her, a human future, just as much as the rest of us.

I gave him one last glare and shot out the front door.

[/EPOV]

*** *** ***

[BPOV]

Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in," I said, not lifting my eyes from the line of text. The door opened, and soft footsteps entered my room.

I looked up and saw Edward, looking rather ill at ease, hovering by the wide-open door.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

I sighed and closed the book, keeping my place with my finger. "Are you here to lecture me about Mike?" I asked with a resigned sigh.

He slowly closed the door and approached my bed—much slower than his usual brisk way of going about things. "Not exactly," he said, slowly and quietly. He sat down on the very edge of my bed. And then, in a rush:

"Bella, this needs to stop."

"What?"

"This…bringing back all these…boyfriends!" he said, not looking at me, but his voice was considerably stronger now. "It's not right. Girls who do that are…people think of them as...well, it slowly damages their reputations." His beautiful voice sounded strange and twisted as he tried to avoid a certain word. I could guess that word was sluts.

So he was saying that I was one, huh? A small part of me, amid my anger, said that I had been acting rather peculiar in my dating ways. All the other girls stayed with their boyfriends for at least a few weeks, and had a gap between boyfriends.

But I was too far gone.

"Are you implying what I think you're implying, Edward?" I demanded. "It's none of your business who I spend my time with! Why would you care, anyway? We'll be moving in no time, or I'll go off to college, and I'll never see any of these people again! It's not like I'm knocked up or something! God, Edward, I'm a...a virgin! Why would you think otherwise?"

He cringed, and for one short second, I felt guilty for my harsh words. Then his face abruptly smoothed over. "All right," he conceded. "I suppose it is your business, and not mine." He tried to search for words, and then he nodded awkwardly toward the book in my hands. "How's the book, by the way?"

The book I held was Jane Eyre. "It's all right," I responded, glad to be away from the previous topic, though this new conversation was sufficiently awkward. "I mean, I'm at the part where they're all speaking French, and I can't understand a…." I trailed off when I noticed him staring at me in a strange way. "What?" I demanded.

A strange little smile curved his lips. "Nothing," he said. "So you said there was French? I could translate."

He moved over and began to read.

[/BPOV]

*** *** ***

[EPOV]

"So, what was that about?" Emmett asked keenly, as I came into the family room. Bella was asleep by now.

Emmett was lounging on the couch, and he and Jasper were flipping through the TV channels. Alice was cuddled in Jasper's arms, and looked up at me, silently asking the same question.

Jasper glanced at me, before looking away. Do tell, he challenged. Not that we don't know what happened.

I glared at him and looked away, not answering his challenge.

"Really, though," Esme said from her position against Carlisle's shoulder. "I don't understand why you'd choose to lecture Bella about her boyfriends? I'll admit, I do think they're a bit much, but as long as she's happy, I have no qualms about it."

Emmett looked up at me. "She's fitting in," he added. "You know how she'd had troubles with that in the past. It's better, now that she's not perpetually quiet, or withdrawn...."

I looked away. "I just have this bad feeling," I lied, faking an explanation for my reasoning. "That something's going to happen with one of her boyfriends, one day."

On the couch, Emmett promptly burst out into big, shaking fits of laughter.

Alice chuckled, reaching out her hand to pat my own. "Leave the fortune-telling to me, Edward," she said patronizingly. "You know, you're being so paranoid it isn't even funny."

[/EPOV]

A *** few *** days *** later...

[BPOV]

I broke up with Mike.

I couldn't help it.

He was an idiotic moron.

*** *** ***

Today, there was a new student in class. He was quite attractive—he had long, blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and a sharp, intelligent face. I couldn't but help staring at him in English and Government. I think he looked back at me once, but I just blushed and looked down.

His name was James. James fit in perfectly with the crowd. All the girls swooned after him, and all the guys tried to be his best friend. I never worked up the nerve to talk to him today—he seemed so occupied, and it would be a record for me if I dated another guy one day after my previous breakup.

At the end of the day, on my way to the parking lot, I was so deep in reverie—all right, in thinking about James—that I tripped on my way out the door.

A laugh came from behind me. "What, can't you walk without smashing yourself on the concrete?" an amused voice said.

I whirled around to see the very occupant of my thoughts for the last five minutes standing—no, towering—behind me, with a smirk on that face. I instantly grew indignant. "Yeah," I answered, standing up. "I can." I started to pick my books up when he swooped down and retrieved them for me.

"I'm sorry," he said, but the trace of a smile was still there. "Here, how about I walk you over to your car? Just so you don't stumble and fall again under the weight of all these books?"

In a burst of courage, I reached out and smacked his arm—not enough to hurt, just flirtatiously. "That's enough, now," I said, pretending to be put out.

He walked me over to my new, used truck, and opened the driver's door for me. "Thanks," I said, as I stepped into the car. He handed me my books and I stacked them on the passenger seat.

I started to close the door, but he held it open. "Uh, listen…", he began. "Can I take you out tomorrow night? Just for dinner, I mean."

Well.

That was quite out of the blue. He didn't sound like he was joking with me, nor did he sound reluctant. But I couldn't understand how he would ask me out after knowing me for the duration of one walk between the school and my beat-up truck.

I may have been staring at him, because he added, "To apologize for laughing at you," with a smile.

Well, then.

He was still waiting for an answer, and I was still mentally debating myself. After a moment, I just gave up. "All right," I said.

He laughed. "I'm glad I managed to persuade you so quickly," he joked. He then reached in and hugged me. "See you tomorrow."

I was still staring after him when he walked away.

[/BPOV]


AN: All right, so the last part may sound mundane and pointless and sudden and stupid and I could go on for a while, but the Bella and James relationship is actually going to be the start of some real action—next chapter.

Guess who's at the heart of the action?

AHAHAHA! I pwn you. If you want a spoiler, just review and tell me :D

I, personally, am very fond of spoilers XD

Until next time!