An Introduction to Swirl and Daisy: The Non-Romantic Romance

Betas: xsecretxkeeperx, acciodanrad9

Chapter 11: The First Time They Walked Into Forks High

. . .

"Why is there a leaf in my pasta?" I asked.

"Relax. It's a bay leaf."

"What's a bay leaf? It sounds Elvish."

Edward laughed. "This is why I adore you. A bay leaf gives the pasta more flavor."

"Right." I carefully maneuvered the leaf out with my spoon and flicked it over the porch railing. "Forgive me if I don't quite trust your judgment in regard to cooking after the Cajun food incident."

"One of these days that excuse is going to get old. I'm actually a very good cook."

"The oven you murdered disagrees," I said. It was the last day of summer vacation, and we were sitting on Edward's back porch, savoring what was left of our freedom. Our summer adventures, like the party Edward had hosted for the release of The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring DVD, had been blissful. I use the term "party" loosely because it was mostly me and Edward kissing in his home theater while the movie played in the background. But there were streamers involved. Our whole vacation had been like that with the kissing. Absolutely freaking blissful.

Tomorrow would be our first day of high school. I wasn't worried at all. Sure, there were a lot more students, but that only meant more people we could be friends with. I certainly wasn't thinking about the fact that half of those people were girls… probably gorgeous, beautiful, tall, skinny, older girls that would be all over Edward the second we walked through the doors.

"You should," Edward said.

"I should what?" I asked. I'd bet none of those girls would even bother to get to know the real Edward before they pounced on him – the gorgeous, sweet, humble, charming, amazing, perfect Edward that I knew. And I did know him, just like he knew me. So why would he want one of them over me? Besides the fact that they are older and more experienced and gorgeous-

"Trust me."

I snapped back to attention. "Trust you with who?"

"Cooking," Edward said. "What did you think we were talking about?"

"Um, nothing. Just thinking about tomorrow."

The smile slipped from his mouth. "Are you worried?"

I faked a laugh. "Worried? What's there to be worried about?" It wasn't technically a lie if I didn't answer his question.

Edward's eyes fell to his plate and he started to pick at his food. "You know, new teachers, new subjects, new students…"

"Well, that just means there's more people for us to be friends with." Repeating the lie I had been telling myself didn't sound nearly as convincing when I said it him. Edward nodded and gave me a tight smile in response. What was he so nervous about? He needn't worry that I might decide to run off with some upperclassman. Edward was it for me, and if he decided he didn't want me then I would become a nun and die a virgin.

We sat on his back porch for about an hour longer before it was time to leave. We didn't talk about anything in particular – just enjoyed being in each other's presence. That was one thing I had loved about this summer. Being with Edward was like eating a cup of chocolate pudding (the one with the peel-off lid); you don't have to talk while you're eating it, but when you're finished you always want more.

Were you even allowed to like pudding cups in high school?

. . .

When I arrived at Forks High the next morning, Edward was waiting at the front entrance. That in and of itself was incredibly sweet, but the gesture was made considerably more profound by the fact that it was raining.

Note: Edward being wet is never a bad thing.

The prospect of Edward's company didn't make the police cruiser any less embarrassing. So I grabbed my lucky purple backpack from next to my feet and pulled the hood of my jacket over my hair, both to keep it dry and hide my face. I had just reached for the handle of the car door when Charlie put his arm out to stop me. "Is there something you wanted?" I asked.

Charlie cleared his throat. "I want you to know that… if you don't like the cafeteria food here we can always go grocery shopping and pack you lunches from home."

We had endured the entire car ride in silence; why was he speaking now, when I was likely to be spotted? "Look, we'll talk more about the lunches when I get home."

"Wait, Bella," Charlie said, stopping me from getting out of the car a second time.

"Dad, I have to go – Edward's getting wet." Again, that wasn't a bad thing, just a good excuse for me to get out of the cruiser before most of the student population arrived.

"Give your old man a moment, all right?"

I groaned a little, but complied. "What's up?"

"I know you don't want to listen to your father getting all… nostalgic over his little girl's first day of high school, but I wanted you to know that I'm really proud of you." His ears turned a little pink. That was exactly the kind of thing I loved my father to say but had to pretend I hated in order to keep up the façade that I was a normal, well-adjusted, yet slightly angsty teenage girl. "Good luck, Bells. Tell Edward to keep you out of trouble."

"Thanks, Dad. And know that I certainly won't tell Edward that," I said, getting out of the car. Would I ever understand my father's relationship with Edward? They'd only met on a few occasions, and yet some days it felt like Charlie knew Edward just as much as I did.

I ran to where Edward was standing, grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the building to give him a proper greeting. We had both gotten there early enough that there weren't many students milling around, so once we were inside and in a semi-private corner, I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

And for some reason, he started laughing. "What is your problem?"

"A little impatient for me today, aren't you?" he said, still chuckling.

"I'm impatient? So I suppose you were waiting out in the rain for Lauren Mallory to show up?"

He waggled his eyebrows evocatively, then pulled off his wet raincoat. I growled, but followed his example. Glancing around the entrance of Forks High, my stomach lurched at how big it was. It hadn't looked this large from the outside. "So, I guess this is our home away from home for the next four years," I said, with a tinge of panic.

"And how appropriate that the first thing you did as a freshman is attack another student," Edward said. My eyes rolled, but I loved it when Edward teased me. It was a side of him that not many people got to see – it was the side of him that I owned.

A few students filtered in behind us, and I caught a girl eyeing Edward's backside. I narrowed my eyes and fought back a possessive sneer. Edward's hand tightened around mine and I looked over to find that he was wearing an expression similar to my own – only it was directed at some dude with a baseball cap. Even after standing out in the rain, Edward's hand was warm and soft. I probably would never wash my hand again if I didn't know I would be able to hold his whenever I wanted to.

"Well, we made it through the gates of Mordor," I said, sporting an assuring smile. "Now all we have to do is destroy the ring."

He nodded towards the boy in the baseball cap. "It'd probably help if we didn't have Gollum hanging around waiting to steal the ring and bite off my finger."

"Gollum bites off Frodo's finger?"

"How have you not gotten to that part yet? I lent you the books months ago." Oops. In a moment of absolute brilliance, I'd told Edward I didn't want to discuss my progress in the book series so he didn't accidentally ruin the ending for me. In actuality, I hadn't gotten past the first sixty pages.

"When would I find time to read them? We're always hanging out." And they were really boring.

Edward let out a sarcastic laugh. "Well, I don't know, Bella. Somehow I've managed to read the series twice in the time I loaned you the books."

"But you've already read the books a million times! Why would you need to read them again?"

"Tolkien's writing is so full of depth, that there's always more to learn," Edward said. "In every page, you can find some little detail or hidden clue that you missed on a previous reading." That was one of the problems. It was so tedious and dry.

Instead of arguing this further, I tugged on Edward's hand. "Come on. We better get our schedules before the line gets too long."

. . .

"Musical Theater?" I screeched, staring down at my first semester schedule. How had those morons managed to screw it up? And why was Edward practically crippled with mirth? "Stop laughing! This isn't funny. It's utterly tragic."

"I can't help it," Edward said, without expending the effort to even try. "I have this hilarious image of you dressed up in a cowgirl costume, whipping out a pistol and dancing along to a stage production of Annie Get Your Gun."

"Annie Get Your Gun?"

"You know, Annie Oakley? Buffalo Bill? Anything you can do, I can do better? Why do you look like you want to shoot me with her pistol? It's a compliment! Annie Oakley was amazing. She was the best sharpshooter in the Wild West and could kick any man's butt in a duel." He had a gleam in his eye that I knew all too well.

First elves and now this? Figures that Edward would be interested in cowgirls. Sometimes, I wondered if he wasn't actually an old man trapped in the body of a teenage boy. It would explain a lot of things – the stash of Audrey Hepburn movies he hid under his bed, for one.

"Whatever. You can forget that image right now. I'm transferring out." I turned to walk back into the office, but, to my dismay, the line had grown exponentially while Edward revealed his cowgirl fixation. I would never get this fixed in time for classes! The anxiety I had felt upon first entering the school rose like bile in my throat.

"Okay, Bella, I think you're hyperventilating a little bit. You need to breathe."

Was it possible to asphyxiate on panic? "Tell me something I don't know."

"When JRR Tolkien was a child, he was bitten by a large baboon tarantula in South Africa."

"Huh?"

"You told me to tell you something you didn't know." He was struggling not to smile at his own joke, while I fought an outright laugh. This was why I loved him. Even when I tried to feel like crap, Edward always found a way to make me smile. "We'll fix your schedule later. For now, we don't want to be late for our first classes of high school."

It seemed only moments later, I was clutching Edward's hand outside my first period class. It was English, which was my favorite subject, but what if I had no one to sit next to? What if we got paired up for projects and no one wanted to be my partner? I suddenly regretted not making more friends in eighth grade. Edward leaned in to kiss my forehead, promising me he'd be back to walk me to my next class and that everything was going to be fine. Even if we didn't have any classes together, we still had lunch and we'd get my schedule fixed then... or so he assured. A small fissure tore in my heart as our hands unlatched.

I took a deep breath before stepping forward and turning the doorknob. Only about half the class was full, which meant there were plenty of spaces to sit that weren't next to other students. It was always easier to have someone come sit next to you, rather than possibly offend someone by sitting next to them. I chose a seat near the middle of the class, pulled out Edward's copy of The Fellowship of the Ring, and pretended to read it so I wouldn't look like a slacker.

The class filled with people I barely recognized, and by the time the teacher came in, the only seat that wasn't taken was in front of me. The teacher was introducing himself when the door opened up and the last person I ever wanted to see plopped herself in that very seat. "Now that the entire class is here," the teacher said, glaring in our direction, "I will tell you that the seats that you have chosen today will be your permanent seats for the rest of the semester."

Alice f-word Brandon's face practically lit up as she turned around. "Oh my God, B, we are going to have so much fun this semester!"

So far, I loathed high school.

. . .

Alice turned out to be in four out of seven of my classes. Clearly I had done something to offend God. Alice in four classes, and Edward in zero? His wrath was surely upon me. Worse, my plan to switch out of stupid Musical Theater into seventh period Yearbook was on hold because the earliest I could get an appointment was three days from now.

And it was torture. This whole day had been torture. I hated high school.

Every teacher had made us stand up, introduce ourselves to the class, and give some random fact about ourselves, as if that would magically help them remember our names. In classes where freshmen were mixed with upperclassmen, we got the spiel about how older students needed to set a good example for us. All the while, we endured glares from them, like it was our fault the teachers had decided we were too incompetent to behave appropriately. And gym… well, there were no words I could use without having to mentally slap my wrist to describe how much I hated gym. My saving grace was that Angela was in three of my classes, gym included.

This day needed to end, and I was either going to thank God that the only class I had left was Musical Theater or curse him for the day not being over yet. "Attention, class," the teacher called from the head of the choir room. "My name is Mrs. McCrae and I'm going to be your teacher for this semester. We're going to start off today with introductions. When I call on you, I'd like you to stand up and tell the class your name, followed by your favorite musical."

Typical. This was going to be especially excruciating because I couldn't use the generic, "I go by Bella and I like to read," introduction I'd used in my other classes. Plus, I'd have to wait and pray that no one else said my favorite musical (Grease) before I did. I wasn't about to be a copycat.

"Let's begin with Alice Brandon," Mrs. McCrae read from the top of her roll list.

Alice popped up from the middle of the popular girls' group, and fluttered her stupid eyelashes obnoxiously. "Hello everyone! My name is Alice Brandon and my favorite musical is Grease because John Travolta is such a babe."

Damn Alice f-word Brandon!

Renee's obsession with Grease had led to the exile of other musicals in our home (aside from Grease 2, which would have been even more pathetic to say out loud to the class). I couldn't give Alice the satisfaction of thinking I was copying her, but it was the only musical I knew off the top of my head.

"Very good, Alice," Mrs. McCrae said. "Okay, next we have Jackie Cooper."

Jackie stood from the chair next to Alice. "Hi, I'm Jackie and my favorite musical is also Grease." Alice beamed even brighter and began applauding Jackie for saying her favorite musical was the same as hers. Of course the rest of the class (aside from me) started clapping along with her. Did Jackie have no dignity? Who wanted to be applauded for being a sheep?

It was appalling, but that's how it continued. Whenever Mrs. McCrae would call a girl's name (the only boy in the class was Eric Yorkie), the girl would stand up and say her favorite musical was Grease and Alice and her cronies would give that girl a round of applause. Even more disgusting was when an "unpopular" girl would stand up and say that Grease was her favorite musical, just to get Alice's approval. At one point, a girl stood up and said, "I've actually never seen a musical before, so I choose Grease!" She got twice as much applause for that. It was so wrong. And, I swore, sun was shining out of Alice's ass (mental wrist slap) every time a new girl said the word Grease.

Meanwhile, I was sitting in the back of the room willing my brain to spit out the name of a musical, any musical. For the life of me, I couldn't remember the name of the one with the red, sparkly, high-heeled shoes. After this, I was going to make Edward watch every classic musical he had hidden under his bed with me.

Wait, Edward! He was—

"Isabella Swan." Mrs. McCrae sounded bored, as if she'd witnessed this exact spectacle too many times.

I stood up, a little shakily – I really hated public speaking. "Um, I go by Bella."

She made a note to change my name. "And what's your favorite musical?"

"Annie Get Your Gun."

"Yeah right, Bella," Alice said. "I've never even heard of that musical."

Rage boiled inside me. Oh, how I hated, Alice f-word Brandon. In the heat of the moment, I figured it wouldn't matter if I made a bad impression on the teacher since I'd only be in her class two more days. "Really? That's too bad, because Annie Oakley could totally kick your a—"

"Actually, Annie Get Your Gun is a musical that was adapted into a movie in the 1950's," Mrs. McCrae said, now sporting a smile. "I'm surprised you bring it up, Bella, because Betty Hutton, who played the lead role, was actually a distant cousin of mine. Very good!"

I sent a smug look in Alice's direction and secretly bowed to my own internal applause.

. . .

As usual, Edward was waiting outside when I exited. "I've missed you all day," he said.

I smiled. "Then let's be glad it's over."

"So how'd it go? Was it worth the near hyperventilation?"

I was about to regale him with all the morbid details, but was cut off by an exaggerated gasp from behind. I whipped my head in that direction to find Alice frozen in the middle of the hallway with her mouth hanging open, staring at some guy with blond hair and blue eyes. He was with a group of friends, laughing over a joke. I guess he was cute, but certainly nothing compared to how beautiful Edward was. Of course, by the way Alice was staring at him, you would think he was Orlando Bloom. Managing to close her mouth, she straightened her posture and walked confidently over to the guy, her mere presence garnering his attention.

"You've kept me waiting a long time," she said, as if she didn't have a doubt in the world that he had also been waiting for her.

He seemed to stare deeply into her eyes, and I almost gagged. They stood there for a few moments until finally his face comically fell in confusion. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but, um, waiting for what?" The boys standing behind him barely tried to hide their jokes and nudges. It was like a miracle, this beautiful scene unfolding before me.

Alice visibly huffed and her body seemed to deflate a little before she smirked and reestablished herself. "You. You've kept me waiting for you," she clarified, holding her hand out to him.

As if in slow motion, the boy looked her up and down, quirked an eyebrow over his charmingly amused eyes, and said in his sweet, southern accent, "Sorry, Frosh. You're cute, but I don't do freshmen."

It was moments like this that made me believe God actually loved me. He gave me this moment so that I could turn back to Edward and honestly say, "I think I'm really going to love high school."