How did I get here? Standing in my front yard, in my stain-ridden dress from last night, preparing for my boyfriend to call me every name in the book and accuse me of cheating.

Edward takes a few cautious steps toward me, his face only showing pain and nerves. "We need to talk."

The four most dreaded words in any relationship. I've never even heard them before today, at least not directed at me. What do I do? I don't want this. I don't want him to break up with me.

Edward takes my hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over them. "Bella, I'm sorry…"

My rude inner voice is already finishing the sentence for him. I'm sorry I ever met you. I'm sorry I trusted you. I'm sorry I wasted a year with you. I'm sorry you're a cheating whore. I'm utterly terrified, especially of that last one being said aloud. My heart is pounding ninety to nothing, and my palms are sweating in his hands. I don't want to hear the next words out of his mouth, so I close my eyes, as if that'll stop me from having to.

"…I know you didn't want me coming over today, but I tried calling a thousand times, and I have to talk to you about last night."

My breath whooshes out all at once. Whatever shred of hope I had that he doesn't know about Jake and me has completely vanished.

My eyes are filling with tears, and I'll soon be a sobbing mess, but I'm determined to keep him. As selfish as that is.

"Edward, please let me-" Explain? How cliché that sounds. Besides, I can't explain my cheating, not really. "I mean, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I -"

"No, Bella," Edward places his hands on both sides of my neck with his thumb rubbing against my cheek. The sudden caress surprises me, and I'm sure the confusion is perfectly etched on my face. "You don't have to apologize. I know why you lied. I wish you hadn't but…I understand."

"You do?"

"I pushed you too far last night. It was my fault. I shouldn't have tried to-" He shakes his head and sighs while his fingers press marginally harder into my skin. "But, yesterday, with those La Push guys – the way they looked at you and flirted with you and what that one said about you getting bored of me…I just…I got scared. But that's not an excuse-"

"Edward, I'm confused. What are you talking about?"

He sighs. "I know you lied to me last night."

I can't find my voice. As much as I want to argue and beg, nothing will come out.

"It's okay though. I mean – no, it's not okay, but -" He sighs again, bringing his hand to his forehead like he's searching for the right words. He must find them because within the next second he's grasping both my hands in his. "Bella, I love you. And yesterday I started feeling really insecure about us, and I realize now that I tried to take things too far because of that…"

My cheeks flush from his words; the images all come flooding back to me in an instant. I see Edward dropping me off and kissing me good night, his hand rising up under my skirt until I shove it away. Then a different hand with a darker skin tone flashes in place of Edward's, inching its way down my thigh, and I'm not doing a thing to stop it.

"…I just want to let you know that I never meant to make you uncomfortable and that I am really, really sorry."

He is sorry, so completely sorry, that I can see it in every aspect of his being. His eyes are pleading with me to forgive him while his hands are squeezing mine like a lifeline they're afraid to ever let go of.

My stomach twists so hard that I want to clasp my arms around my middle and curl over to make it stop. The guilt is eating away at my very core. Edward's apologizing for trying to reach third base with me - his girlfriend of eighteen months who shot him down - and yet I let the guy I've only known for a week get closer than he ever has.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I can't do this to him. I can't let him beat himself up over this when he's done nothing wrong, and I've done everything wrong.

"Edward-" I'm not sure how I say his name; my throat feels so tight I can't even swallow.

"There's something else," he suddenly spits out.

The pain is back in his eyes, and his apologetic demeanor increases, including his anxiety. "When I got home last night…" he clears his throat a little bit, "Lauren was there, waiting for me."

He braces himself for impact. I can see it in the way he backs up the slightest fraction of an inch, but I'm too stunned and pissed and…pissed to react right away.

"She was waiting for you last night? At your house?" That last sentence holds a little more venom than I intended.

He's quick to interject, "Nothing happened. I swear to God, Bella, nothing happened!"

"So what did happen? What did you do? Did you talk to her? Did you tell her to leave? " There may be a slight hysteria in my voice as I spout off my questions, but I can't help it.

"Baby, I swear I had no idea she was going to be at my house. When I got home, she was waiting for me in the driveway. It was obvious that she…"

"That she what?"

The rude voice in the back of my head tells me that I have no right to be upset or asking these questions, but I really need to know. My (already-questionable) sanity depends on it.

"…that she wanted something to happen."

"Of course she wanted something to happen! She was waiting for you at your house! She's been trying to steal you from me for months, but you always ignored it!"

"I know." He looks so contrite that I almost want to console him, but really, he's an idiot for always denying it. Still, I fight against the urge to hug him or throw something at him. "But I promise you, Bella, I swear on the life of my sister that I didn't let anything happen. As soon as she tried to kiss me, I-"

"She what? She – God – she tried to kiss you?" My stomach twists with both jealousy and guilt. I know I have no right to be so upset over this, especially after what I did last night, but I can't help that at this very moment I want nothing more than to skin Lauren Mallory alive.

"She started to, but she didn't get very far. As soon as I realized what she was doing, I told her off and asked her to leave. I swear."

Skepticism leaks into my tone. "And then she left?"

"After I practically shoved her back into her car, yes."

"She tried to kiss you," I state again. "I can't believe she tried to kiss you!"

Edward moves to wrap his arms around me, but I don't want him to. I try to fight out of his embrace, but he just pulls me in tighter, until we're standing with our hips pressed together and our faces only inches apart. Out of spite, I keep my head turned away. I can't let him to hold me right now. I'm too angry, too conflicted.

I want him to hold me; I want him to comfort me and tell me that Lauren means nothing to him and that's why he wouldn't kiss her. But why should he be comforting me? While he was turning her down, I was allowing Jake to feel me up.

"Bella, you know I love you. I've never even looked at another girl the way I look at you. I thought it was obvious to everyone, but I guess Lauren's just a few tools short of a full shed." He smiles, and I know that he's trying to make some attempt at a joke. Even though it's not really funny, I quirk a small smile and relax with my head against his chest.

He kisses my temple and runs his hands up and down my back; his breath tickles as he speaks into my hair. "Will you forgive me?"

My heart clinches in my chest, and I'm glad he can't see the way I flinch. He shouldn't be the one apologizing.

I squeeze my arms tighter around his waist. "You didn't do anything wrong." I did.

"I was so scared," he confesses, and I want to die just a little. "I called a thousand times, and when you didn't answer, I thought that was it. I thought you were breaking up with me – not that I would've blamed you. I've acted like a possessive ass all week."

"You're not a possessive ass." I stop a cynical laugh from rising. If anyone's possessive, it's me. "And I didn't ignore your calls on purpose. I put my purse under the seat of my car last night, and I must've forgotten it."

The feeling of intense guilt washes over me again. While I was at the party and the cliffs with Jake – making out with him and letting him get way too far – my boyfriend was calling me, freaking out, and wanting nothing more than to apologize.

"Your phone's in my car?"

"No, it's in mine." I'm so distracted with my thoughts I don't realize my slip until it's too late.

His eyebrows pull together. "We took my car last night."

Backtrack! Backtrack!

"Oh, right…did you see it in your car?" My voice raises an octave as I ask. I'm grasping at straws, and I know it.

I brace myself for the inevitable, for him to realize what a horrible liar I am and start asking questions about where I really was last night, but to my surprise, he laughs.

"Wouldn't that be my luck? Don't be surprised when you see a hundred missed calls and texts from me."

He leads me to his car, and I'm kind of fake-checking all over for it, mumbling about how I could've sworn I'd left it there. He looks some too but eventually gives up and offers suggestions on where else it could be. "Think you left it in Mike's basement?"

I shrug. It seems like a good enough excuse. "Maybe."

"Well, if it's there, I bet my name's been changed back to 'Doucheward.'"

I can't deny that that's a possibility now that Mike and Tyler have heard the nickname. "I hate that name. I really hope it doesn't stick."

Edward flashes me his crooked smile. "It's okay. Though you'd think those two could come up with something better like…Dickward."

I laugh. "That sounds like dick-wad."

"Oh, so you like that one."

Giggling, I elaborately draw out the word "No."

Edward comes around the side of the car, and his arms wrap around me.

"What about Whipped-ward?"

Throwing my head back, I laugh again. "Hmm, I might have to think about that one." I pause for moment, pretending to really think it over. "Nope, I still like your name more. It's classic…and it's the same as Richard Gere's in Pretty Woman."

"Of course that's why you like it."

"Can I call you Eddy?"

"Not if you expect me to answer."

"I wonder what it says about your masculinity that you can quote that movie."

"Now my masculinity's in question? You just can't give me a break, can you?"

I slowly shake my head, stopping as Edward's lips descend to mine.

"Then maybe I should show you how masculine I can be."

-~~BoM~~-

I stand beneath the water spray, wishing it could wash away all of my conflicted emotions. I don't know how it's possible to feel so many different things at once - guilt, shame, jealousy, anger, fear. I know I don't have enough time to sort through them all; I have a boy waiting for me in my bed. I told Edward I needed a shower and gave him an unnecessary excuse for still wearing last night's dress. Unnecessary because he didn't ask, but I still worried that he noticed, and it just seemed smarter to give it to him. But now I can't help but wonder if I've made myself suspicious.

My thoughts are a revolving door going from Edward to Jake to Lauren. I can't believe how far I let things get with Jake last night, but oddly, I don't regret it. I only regret pushing Edward away. I can't help but think how last night could've gone differently. How my actions could've pushed Edward into Lauren's arms. After all, Lauren is fully willing to give herself to him. All he had to do was say yes. I can imagine them last night, standing in Edward's dark, secluded driveway, Lauren wearing a tight top and short skirt as she leans in for the kiss, and instead of pulling away, he lets her. The image sends a jolt of pain into my chest, and my stomach rolls.

I have to start trying harder with Edward. I have to show him how much I really do care. If I don't, I may lose him. Worse, I may lose him to Lauren.

I can't stand the thought of him with someone else. I never knew that jealousy could be so strong. It's eliminated all doubt and only increased my feelings for him ten-fold. I feel the need to hang on to Edward tighter, to show every woman in the world (and especially that boyfriend-sniffing wench, Lauren) that he's mine. Mine.

Of course I have no right to be like this. Not when I have a rela- er, bet with Jake.

I really don't know what I'm going to do - if anything. It's horrible and wrong, but a part of me doesn't want to stop seeing him. It's only for three months. Just three more months, and he'll be done with me. My gut clenches. I've known all along that Jake sees me as a temporary challenge – a bet. He doesn't care for me like Edward does.

But that's the key, isn't it? Jake has every intention of leaving me at the end of three months. Edward doesn't.

Edward's my boyfriend – my priority.

As I shut off the water, I know I'm just going to keep doing what I've been doing: flying by the seat of my pants and praying that I don't get caught.

While getting dressed, I make the split-second decision to forego a particular piece of clothing. I need to show Edward how much I care about him, and maybe (just slightly) this decision also has to do with relieving my soul-crunching guilt.

A few butterflies assault my stomach as I walk into my bedroom and find Edward lying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. An image of Jake laying in the same position in the same spot the night before crosses my mind, but I quickly shove it away. I'm not going to think about Jake while I'm with Edward. I'm not.

I close the door about three-quarters of the way, enough that Charlie can't see in but also open enough that he won't think anything is going on.

Edward opens his eyes at the sound of the door and smiles at me – that crooked smile that I love so much. I don't even bother with words as I walk to the bed and crawl on top of him, my mouth falling to his. He grunts in surprise and moans his satisfaction while I continue to kiss him with increasing determination, hoping he'll understand my unspoken request.

I'm too embarrassed to vocally say what I want, but when Edward's hands slide around my waist, raising my shirt enough so they can slip beneath it, I hum my approval. I'm impatiently waiting for him to discover my secret, for his hands to rise just a little bit higher. When his fingertips finally reach the swell of my breast, Edward pulls back, and his smile is wide.

"No bra?" As he says it, he takes the opportunity to fully cup my breast. I try not to blush as I shake my head, my smile widening; his reaction is exactly what I was hoping for. I immediately go back to kissing him. It's not like this is uncharted territory for Edward and I, although it's the first time I've taken the initiative to do something so provocative. It feels…scandalous.

Edward rolls us over so that he's leaning on top of me, his lips zealously attacking my own. He lifts my shirt higher up my torso, and I find that I'm nodding my head in approval. Charlie's right downstairs, so I know I can't take my shirt off, but I find that I kind of want to. Edward must have a similar idea because he raises my shirt until it reaches my chest; he locks his eyes with mine momentarily, silently asking if it's okay to continue. The heat rushes to my face, but I scarcely nod my assent. Now this is uncharted territory; I've never been bared for anyone before. Edward's a perfect gentleman about it as he continues to look me in the eye even as he's raising my top up and over my breasts. He casts his eyes down to look at me for the first time, and though I thought it would be embarrassing and awkward, it's not. It's special, really. I feel closer to him now than I have in a long time, and becoming intimate with him just feels right.

Edward's cheeks tinge a light pink color while I bite my bottom lip. I think he's about to say something, but he must change his mind. Instead, he just leans forward, kissing my chest. It feels odd and good at the same time. I'm feeling tingly all over as I try not to anticipate his next move. He begins a trail of open-mouth kisses leading to my nipple, and when he takes it into his mouth; I can't stop a gasp from escaping. I didn't expect it to feel so good, but it does.

My nails dig into his shoulders as he switches from one to the other, and I've lost all track of time until we both hear a creak in the steps at the same time. Edward helps me yank down my shirt and sit up in bed. I flip on the TV but listen carefully for Charlie's heavy footfalls to pass. They stop briefly, and I know he's peeking into the room to check on us before he goes back downstairs.

"That was fun," Edward whispers, nuzzling my ear and making me giggle. He kisses me sweetly on my temple, cheek, and jaw. I feel so happy and content in this moment that I almost completely forget about my guilt. It's still there, of course, but it's amazing how one blissful feeling can overlap so many others.

-~~BoM~~-

"That fucking bitch!"

"Shh! Alice, keep your voice down!" I've just finished telling Alice everything in the quietest whisper while practically hiding inside my locker. The last thing I want is for half the school to know about Lauren Mallory showing up at Edward's house Saturday night.

"Have you clawed her eyes out yet? I can hold her down while you kick the crap out of her. But only if I can have a few punches too. I've wanted to do it for years."

"Alice!" I admonish.

"You're right; death is too easy for her. We'll strip her naked, wrap her in some saran wrap, and drop her off in the middle of a corn field."

"Where are you going to find a corn field in Forks?"

"Fine. We'll drop her off in the middle of the woods, so a bear can eat her."

"Alice!"

"Bella!" she mocks me. "Why aren't you more upset about this? You should want her eaten by bears!"

"I am upset about it. But what am I supposed to do?"

"I think my idea was a pretty good one," she mumbles, and I just roll my eyes. "Well, standing here bitching about it isn't doing you any good either."

"He said no. That's got to be good enough. Besides, you know I hate confrontation, and in a verbal smackdown, Lauren will kick my ass."

"So you're just going to let her get away with it?"

"Get away with what? Edward told her no."

"But she still went behind your back and-" her eyes flicker over my shoulder, "and I got the cutest shoes yesterday! They were half off and a total steal. Hello, Edward."

I slam my locker shut as two arms wrap around my middle and a chin lands softly on my shoulder. I place my hands over Edward's, smiling and pretending like we weren't just talking about him. Alice is always amazing at changing the subject at record speeds.

"Hey, babe, how was practice this morning?" He places a small kiss on my cheek before I pull away to face him.

"I got there five minutes late, of course, so Miss Davenport made me run five laps around the gym, but other than that it was good. We're all ready for Friday's pep rally."

We talk until the bell rings, and Edward walks us to class, stopping right outside the door before we go our separate ways. That's when I notice Lauren walking this way down the hall. My first reaction is to wrap my arms around Edward and press my cheek into his chest, smiling like I know we're the cutest and luckiest couple at this school. He doesn't question my sudden embrace; he just runs his hands up and down my back, but I suppose it's completely obvious what I'm doing, so maybe he knows and is fine with it.

Alice raises her eyebrow at me and smirks. She glances at Lauren then back to me, mouthing, "She's watching."

Best co-conspirator ever.

I rise onto my toes and brush a kiss to Edward's jaw, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. But he grips my chin, gently tilting my head up so he can capture my lips in a searing kiss. It's apparent that as much as I want to show Lauren that Edward belongs to me, he wants to show it more. Maybe this is mean or vindictive, possibly immature, yet I don't really care. I'm elated that Edward's on my side with this, that he wants to drive his point home as much as I do. He's mine.

Of course, our kiss has to be cut short. We can't really make out in the hallways at school without some sort of reprimand, so I pull away from him, smiling like the idiot I am.

I sneak a stealthy glance over at Lauren, positively glowing in smugness as I see her scowl… until my eyes stray to the dark figure brushing past us and into the classroom. I can't explain the sinking feeling I get in my stomach as I realize who it is.

Jake.

Is it too much to hope that he missed our ridiculous display?

I jump as the bell blares, the action causing me to lose focus on Jake and return to Edward.

"I'll meet you after class?" The satisfied smile is still on his lips as he asks, and I nod, wishing mine could have lasted.

Alice weaves her arm through mine, tugging me into the classroom. My eyes are trained on Jake as we enter, and I'm desperately hoping that he'll look up at me and give me some sort of reassurance.

He never does.

"I thought you weren't going to do anything," Alice annoyingly starts, and all I really want is for her to drop it.

I pause before answering, pulling my books out of my bag while trying not to glance at the boy sitting behind me. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, so you practically dry hump your boyfriend before all your classes?"

Jake snorts behind me, and my cheeks flame.

"We did not…do that!" I couldn't possibly feel more horrified. It's bad enough that Alice's mouth has no filter, but it's so much worse knowing Jake's listening to every word of this conversation.

"It's not a bad thing. Edward's football co-captain, he's popular, he's hot, and completely crazy about you. There's not a boy at this school who's better than him. He's the catch, Bella. And you caught him."

"Fucking Doucheward," Jake mumbles. Automatically whipping my head around, I glare at him. But I hear Alice squeak next to me, and my glare quickly turns into wide-eyed fear. She snaps her mouth closed and shoots pointed, meaningful look that I know she expects me to interpret, but I honestly can't.

What exactly did she just figure out?

Mr. Moore chooses this precise, horrible moment to come into the classroom and start his lesson. I tear off a piece of paper, thinking that I'll write Alice note. I'm at a loss for what say. I have no idea what she's thinking, and I'm afraid to give away too much information. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. It won't do me any good to have a panic attack in the middle of a history lesson. I should be bored out of my mind, but instead, I can't sit still. The next hour is torture. My knee is bouncing all over the place, I've already chewed off half of my pencil eraser, and I certainly can't concentrate on the board to write notes. I try to keep my glances at Alice to a minimum, but I'm completely failing; though, she doesn't seem to be having quite the same trouble concentrating as I am. I've noticed her sending covert looks back at Jake a few times.

I'm trying to convince myself that she doesn't know anything detrimental. It's just hard to believe that when the rude part of my brain keeps telling me the worst.

The second the bells rings, I'm up and out of my seat, haphazardly throwing everything into my backpack before I grab Alice's wrist and drag her to the closest girl's restroom. I still don't know what I'm going to say, but luckily, I don't have to come up with anything because she starts talking the minute the door closes behind us.

"I can't believe Jake's the one who put Doucheward in your phone! I would've never thought it was him!"

"You wouldn't? Er, I wouldn't have either…weird."

"Right? It's so weird! I mean, Jake? It doesn't even make sense!"

"It doesn't?" I mentally kick myself; that should've sounded more like an agreement and not a question.

"Jake isn't the pranking type. He's the scary, gangbanging, get-too-close-and-you'll-regret-it type. So why did he do it?" She looks at me, and I realize maybe that question wasn't meant to be rhetorical. "There has to be a reason behind it."

"You're not gonna like…ask him are you?"

"Please, Bella, I'm nosey, not suicidal."

I breathe a sigh of relief though it's short-lived as I think about Alice's big mouth. "You're not going to tell Edward, are you?"

She gives me a quizzical look, and I understand where she's coming from; I'd be looking at me funny too. "Why not?"

"You know Edward. He's…" possessive, like me, "…protective. You know he'll want to confront Jake about it, and I just don't want Jake to…"

"Kick the shit out of your boyfriend?" She sighs. "Yeah, I get you. Jake seems like he'd be more willing to kick-ass-now and ask-questions-later."

I know she's probably right. If Edward said the wrong thing, I could totally see Jake throwing the first swing. But for some reason, I don't really want to agree with her. "So you'll keep this a secret?"

"Yeah." She almost sounds disappointed.

-~~BoM~~-

Perfecting the little white bow in my hair is a lot more difficult to do when I can't seem to stop my fingers from shaking. It takes several deep breaths and, finally, Angela's steady hands to tighten it so it lies perfectly over my ponytail.

Her dark brown eyes meet mine in the locker room mirror. "Don't worry, Bella. We could do this routine in our sleep."

I try to smile, I really do, but I can't manage it. Instead, I look down, inhale deeply, and nod. It's on the tip of my tongue to tell her it's not what she thinks; I'm not nervous about pep assembly at all. Because she's right: we've practiced this routine so many times I can do it blindfolded - which is saying a lot considering the complexities of it.

The reason my stomach is tying itself in knots isn't because we're about to perform our toughest stunting routine in front of the whole student body but because of a particular student body who will be watching. No, I take that back, he'll be glaring - his one expression that actually scares me.

The last four days have been fairly uneventful. With the exception of our rigorous practice schedule and Alice's incessant questioning, it was pretty par for the course. Though, every chance Alice had, she'd pounce, asking if Jake had talked to me again, looked at me, or given any kind of notice to me whatsoever. I was so adamant about hiding the truth that my answer was always a short, automatic no. It was somewhere around Alice's fiftieth note (which I promptly tore into a thousand pieced and threw away) that I realized I wasn't lying.

I was so busy giving Jake the silent treatment for his 'Doucheward'

slip (especially after I asked him to stop using that name - a request he clearly ignored) that I hadn't noticed he was doing the same.

It shouldn't have bothered me. I mean, Jake ignoring me was exactly what I wanted. I could go back to my normal life - spending junior year with my boyfriend and friends without all the lies and interference from him.

Yet, for some reason, I couldn't stop this nagging feeling. His behavior was a complete one-eighty from last week, when he'd practically stalked me. So why was he suddenly being distant? I told myself it was because we were at school, that he didn't want to risk anyone finding out, but I feared it was for other reasons. Like maybe I was the reason.

I'm so horribly inexperienced, and the last time we were together we were on a gorgeous cliff, heavily making out with his hands beneath my dress. I'm not naïve enough to think I'm the first girl he's done this with. Knowing his reputation, I'm just one of many (something that bothers me more than I want to admit). I couldn't help but think that our little tryst showed him just how inexperienced I am. Maybe he decided I'm not worth the trouble of the bet after all.

But then this morning happened.

Folding my cheerleading skirt beneath me, I sit in my usual seat first hour; the cold plastic chair holds a sharp sting against my bare legs. I try not to glance at the door every few seconds, waiting for Jake, but it's hard. As much as I don't want him to feed Alice's newest obsession, I want some kind of interaction. Something to tell me he hasn't discarded me completely. I want to berate myself for my irrational thinking. It's exactly what I expected of him in the beginning anyway. He takes what he wants from girls then tosses them away. I saw the way he was with Lauren. He slept with her and then acted like he didn't even know her the next day. So why should I be surprised when he does the same to me? At least I didn't actually sleep with him.

Five minutes after class has started, the door swings open, and Jake comes stalking in like he owns the place. He's wearing his normal dark colors, his hair is slightly disheveled, and the dark bruise that's been clouding his jaw is finally starting to fade. I can't seem to stop my eyes from trailing him as he walks through the room and takes his seat behind me. His eyes are cast downward as he pulls out a notebook and pen, never once looking back at me. I turn slowly in my seat so I'm facing the front again, desperately trying to squelch down these foreign feelings of rejection and abandonment.

I try to force my attention up front and push all thoughts of Jake to the back of my mind. Because, let's be honest: I'd really like to pass my junior year. Throwing myself into my work actually helps the class go by faster, so by the time the bell rings, I've written about double what I need in notes.

I also take more time than I should putting my things away while trying (and failing) not to sneak glances at Jake as he stays seated behind me. Alice waits impatiently by the door, so I know I can't dawdle much longer. Withholding a sigh, I stand up, slipping my bag onto one shoulder as I hear the strained whisper coming from the boy I've been obsessing over.

"Fuck me." Jake's eyes are on my skirt, raking up and down my legs and stopping again somewhere around my hips, which I now notice are right in his line of vision.

It's absolutely ridiculous how relieved I am.

Who knew two little expletives could make me feel so good?

Who knew that those words would lead me to making such a horrible decision? That they were going to lead to my current predicament: standing in formation in the middle of the gymnasium, practically hyperventilating before a performance because I can see him. Standing in the center of the back row. And, oh yeah, he's glaring right at me.

Jake slides into the seat beside me with a look I can't quite decipher, and I'm not sure I want to.

Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely naïve. I know the way he looked me up and down last hour wasn't innocent and a direct result of my cheerleading uniform. But he's not looking at my skirt now.

The intensity of his eyes on mine is almost predatory. And yet, oddly enough, the way he's staring at me isn't making me feel uncomfortable. It makes me feel…hot. I mean in the literal, physical way (though a little bit of the figurative way too). My body temperature is rising while I'm sure my cheeks are showing a bright, unattractive color. He smirks, and I have to admit that my heart rate doubles.

It's ridiculous to even try and ignore the way my body reacts to him. The last few days, I've tried, convinced that he was through with me, but just one smirk, and I'm the smitten kitten all over again.

However, my rude-yet-sensible voice is much less pleased. It's skeptical and guarded, telling me not to fall back into this trap because that's what it is. This sudden interest in me after a week of nothing – it's confusing, and I'm quickly questioning every second of it. Does he have something hidden up his sleeve, or is it purely his sexual prowess hunting for a short skirt? Or is it possible in some small, minuscule way that he actually wants me? I hate to admit that I'm most hopeful for the last.

He doesn't say anything, and I glance quickly at Miss Davenport sitting cross-legged on her desk as she waits for her students to settle in. I know she's going to begin any second now, and I shouldn't start conversation (especially not in my cheerleading coach's class because she expects more from her cheer girls), but I can't stop word vomit.

"You've been ignoring me."

"Ignoring you?" He repeats it like I'm a petulant child.

"Yes, ignoring me. You haven't so much as looked at me since Monday."

"Get over yourself, Princess. Unlike your preciousboyfriend, my life doesn't revolve around you."

Ignoring the sting of that comment, I snap back, "Then why are you here?"

Jake raises his eyebrow, and my cheeks instantly redden. I realize that my question is still considered vain, which he's just accused me of being. In a way, I think he's right; he's not my boyfriend so I shouldn't expect his attention, but I'm too hurt to rephrase.

"Should I be skipping?"

"What? No. I mean, why are you sitting here with me?"

"You wanna skip with me? Fuck around in the janitor's closet?"

"Of course not!" I hiss. My eyes immediately cut to Miss Davenport, afraid that she could somehow hear the undertone of his voice from fifteen feet away and over the twenty other students murmuring. "I'm being serious."

"So am I."

I shake my head at him, but my insecurity emerges. He's avoided me all week, and the only reason I can come up with is because I'm not good enough. Not experienced enough. So his comment has me thinking, "Would you really want me in there with you?"

"Fuck yeah, I would."

His immediate response has me smiling.

Miss Davenport stands and tells us all to quiet down so she can begin class. As much as I love Miss Davenport, reading chapters of The Outsiders out loud really isn't that riveting. The only thing keeping me awake is the close proximity of Jake and the mental images of Patrick Swayze and Tom Cruise in their younger years.

Jake leans in close to my ear, whispering "Let's get out of here."

He wants us to skip class? It sounds tempting, but, "I don't think I could do it."

"C'mon, Princess, being bad feels really good."

I'm positive he's using an innuendo, and I'd be lying if I said I'm not considering it.

"I don't know."

"Please? I'm dying here." Maybe it's the mention of dying, but I instantly think of his mother – the English teacher. It was because of her death that he moved to this school, unable to handle someone taking her place. I wonder if he still has trouble with this class even now, three years later.

"If I say yes, will you answer my question about why you were ignoring me?"

He nods, and I tell myself that's the reason I'm agreeing. Though my rude voice knows it's because he's finally acting interested in me again.

"In five minutes, pick up a hall pass."

I didn't do it.

It's not that I didn't want to, but five minutes can seem like an insurmountable, short amount of time. While staring at the seconds of the clock, watching them tick closer to each minute, I had too much time to dwell on my doubts and fears. Without Jake sitting next to me, convincing me to leave, I discovered that I wasn't nearly brave enough to through with it. Though, I wanted to. I pictured myself standing up and following him out the door a hundred times, but one look at Miss Davenport had me contemplating the consequences all over again.

If I'm being honest, it wasn't just the fear of getting caught and the risk of expulsion that kept me in my seat, but the fear of jumping back into this relationship with Jacob.

As I sat in my seat and watched the minutes come and go, I never actually decided on what to do. I still wanted to get up and find Jake, yet I was too afraid to move. This ultimately caused Jake to be stood up. Something he told me he hated last week.

I suspected he'd be angry, which is being confirmed even now as I plaster on a fake smile and lift myself up into the arms of the girls below me, bending one knee and throwing my arms into a sharp V above my head. Jake's glare follows my every move, and even though I try to ignore him and focus on our stunting routine, my eyes still find him in the stands.

I was lucky after English. I didn't have to see Jake again in our other shared classes. Miss Davenport signed us all out of homeroom so we could practice one last time before the pep assembly, and our assembly is being held in place of our last class of the day.

I cradle drop into the arms of my teammates, they promptly place me on my feet, and we all shout "Spartans!" Judging by the look on Miss Davenport's face, the routine went off without a hitch. We're relieved until we have to perform again at the start of tonight's football game for our families and fans. We continue to smile and cheer for a minute before we're allowed to take our seat in the front row and watch the dance team take their places on the floor, ready to show off their half-time performance.

As I sit between Angela and Jessica, I can still feel Jake's eyes on the back of my head, but I pretend I don't.

I know I can't avoid him forever. He'll find me, and when he does, there will be repercussions to pay. I'm simultaneously nervous, thrilled, and afraid of what that price may be.

-~~BoM~~-

I ignore the chill in the air as I chant along with my fellow cheerleaders, staring up into the crowd seated above me. The brisk, cool wind flips the pleats of my skirt with every breeze, but as we continue to dance, the draft quickly becomes refreshing.

Alice sits amongst the band in full uniform, her flute lifted to her lips as she plays our school's fight song. Angela and Jessica are beside me as we cheer for our boys playing on the field behind us. Edward winks and smiles at me whenever he comes up to the sidelines before dashing off again.

I love every moment of these football games.

As I scan over the crowd, I notice all the familiar faces, including my father's. He's sitting tall and proud next to Alice's parents as they gossip and smile at us. Mrs. Brandon always laughs at the faces Alice and I make at each other. I notice Edward's parents sitting further up with the Newton's as they shout profanities down at the referee's below.

I laugh until I notice three tall, darkly dressed boys walking up the stairs. My steps falter as I watch Jake, closely followed by Quil and Embry, taking seats at the top right corner of the stadium.

I knew he'd want to find me at some point, but I hadn't guessed he'd come here of all places. The chanting, cheering camaraderie of school and families certainly doesn't seem to fit his type of enjoyment. In fact, I'd bet this is the first football game he's ever attended. And he's brought back-up with him.

A/N: *Knocks on laptop screen* Hello? Are you still with me?

I'm really sorry that this chapter took so long to update. Besides being just plain busy I started a new full time job and it's taken a lot out of me. Needless to say, all that free time that I had when I worked part-time was quickly zapped away by the 40+ hours a week and all the things I'm required to do in life, leaving me little time to write. Though I have never given up on BoM and have no intentions of doing so. Not a day goes by that I dont think about continuing this story and I will finish it. I promise you. Though it may take a few years...

Because it's been so long since I've update I have to go back in time and thank all of you who voted on the JBNP website for both BoM and The Mess of the Wedding Dress. I'm so honored to have won! Thank you so much!

Also, I urge you to go to the Jacob Black N' Pack website and read all the wonderful entries for the Naughty or Nice Christmas Contest. There are some great ones in there!

Lastly, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter I know a lot happened what with Edward's confession about Lauren, E/B's rounding 2nd base, Jake's avoidance and Bella's insecurities. And then that cliffie ending (I know I'm evil!)

Big special thank you and huge hugs go to Jkane180 for betaing! This story wouldn't be where its at today if it wasn't for all of her insight and help. She's truly one of a kind. I don't know what I'd do with out her.

Wishing you all happy holidays and many *hugs!*