VERY Important!

My dear readers, it is with great regret that I announce that after much thought, I have removed three of my stories, "And Innocent Secuction", "Heartbreak, with interest" and "Liar" from the Twilight fandom, and plan on removing another one, "Blackmail is and Ugly Word". Now, before you start throwing the rotten tomatos, I have to make my point: Over the last four years, fanfiction has been an important part of my life and my development as a... well, scribbler. I have discovered many things about writing - some through the process of creating my stories, yes, but also through my interaction with the fans. I've discovered that sometimes quality does not equal quantity (of reviews) and that sometimes, it is more important to write what is on your heart rather than what you think people would accept.

Yes. I truly do believe that. I also believe that if I write long, provocative or just plain confusing fics in the hopes of getting a high review count, I am not only wasting my time, I am wasting yours. So, with that, I take down four of my Twilight stories, because I cannot, in good conscious, finish them, nor do I want to.

With that out of the way, I'd like to say thanks for my beta, Courtney, who does these chapters, and also to Simaril, whose reviews encouraged me to get this story crackin'.

Confusion

Bella Swan

When I saw my dad's police cruiser parked in front of the pool, my first thought was that something terrible had happened to him. Of course, when I saw him the next minute and I managed to calm down; I took in the rest of the scene – the ambulance and the EMT's that were just helping a person in. And then, immediately, I was worried again. What if Victoria had struck? What if she broke the treaty? Or worse – what if the Quileute had prosecuted her.

My worries evaporated when I didn't smell the blood or saw any horrible disfigurements. Actually, the guy looked fine, if it weren't for the fact that he held his hand in a funny way.

And then I caught a glimpse of the face:

"Hey, isn't that Mike?" Angela voiced my reaction for me.

My dad, who had ran up to greet us, heard the words and turned on a full-cop mode on us. "You know this kid?"

"Um, yeah, that's Mike. Mike Newton." I said "He's in our Biology class at school."

My dad's face got grim. Then, without answering a single of our questions (Why was he there, why was there and ambulance and why the hell did they have to strap Mike to a gurney?), he told us to jump into the cruiser so that he could give us a ride home.

It wasn't until we'd left Angela at her place -and I climbed out front of the car- that he broached the subject in the vaguest of possible manners: "Bells, I know this isn't what you're used to, but I need to be firm on this." I stared at him, silently urging him to continue with whatever the hell he was trying to say "I don't want you talking to this kid."

"What kid?"

"That kid… Mike." He said "I don't want you to associate with him."

"Dad, that's kind of hard. See, we go to the same school, and he's Jessica's sort of boyfriend…" I began, but he cut me off.

"Just trust me on this, Bella." He said "I'm not asking you for much, but please do this. Don't spend more time with him than you have to. Or if you do… do you still have that pepper spray I sent you for Christmas?" when I nodded an affirmative, he seemed content "Carry it with you at all times. If your teachers make a fuss about it, tell them to take up their objections with me."

"Fine with me." I shrugged. I didn't feel like talking to Mike after his little display today anyway, so this only gave me a good excuse to do so. Only thing was that I didn't know what 'this' was. "But what happened to him? Is he in some sort of trouble? Did he get mugged or something?"

"He didn't get mugged." Dad said, and the tips of his ears turned red "He… he… he's no good, Bella, ok? Trust me on this." And he left it at that.

I left it at that as well. Before, I would have poked and prodded until I needled the info right out of my dad, but this time I just didn't feel like worrying over what Mike Newton had done. I had enough on my mind as it was.

During my trip to La Push, I had been more than a little nervous. Of course, I had chatted with Sue Clearwater before, it was almost impossible not to know someone in one of those small close-knit communities, but I had never felt particularly uneasy around her before. Now, I was terrified.

She had never mentioned her husband to me before. I didn't know why, but it was a small comfort. Not that I was one to lecture on couples dynamics, but I guessed that the disappearance of a spouse would cause a lot of distress. Maybe she didn't love him much. Maybe he was a cruel man, a drunkard. He'd certainly looked capable of horrible things when I had met him.

I didn't chat to Sue, or try to talk to her daughter Leah. I didn't know why, but the tawny girl didn't look like she liked me a lot. Sue was kind to me, almost motherly, but since 'divorce' was a forbidden word to the Quileute, I attributed it to pity. She probably thought I was dysfunctional.

Her son, Seth, was probably the only person who looked accessible in the whole tribe. He was a small boy, too young to run around with the older boys doing… God knows what, and too young to hang out with the children. I had never been a motherly person myself, but whenever I met him I felt the most inexplicable urge to protect him. He looked so positively miserable.

I decided that it was probably because of his father. He probably abused Seth, and his wife and daughter were too scared to say anything about it.

Halfway through these musings, I had to slap myself. What was I doing? Making up stories about some guy I had only met once, drunk and under Victoria's influence. A guy who was now dead. A guy who had left a wife and two children behind. It was disgraceful, and it was useless. Why was I trying to make him into some sort of psychopath? To defend Victoria's actions? Hardly. To make myself feel better? It wasn't my fault he died.

Maybe it was just my way of coping with death. Either way, I needed that swim with Angela. And now this stuff with my dad was ruining my good mood.

If there was a single good thing that came out of that, I was too absorbed in my own world of misery to care for Edward Cullen's rejection. Humph… as if I wanted to be anyone's beard! Jerk!

I parked as far as possible from the silver Volvo, fully intending to give Edward the cold shower today. Maybe, I thought optimistically, if he never fell in love with me, Victoria would never have come here and I'd be free.

And pigs fly.

I got out of my truck, thinking about all the things that I needed to do today, when I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned, almost hitting Erik Yorkie across the face with my keys.

"Oh, hell!" I gasped "You scared me, Erik."

"Sorry." He didn't look sorry, but whatever. "Walk you to class?"

"Um…" I shrugged, and Erik took my backpack gently. We chatted up about nonsense until we were inside, before he glanced around furtively and asked me:

"Do you know about Mike?"

"Mike?" I blinked "What about Mike?"

Erik gasped and his face turned beet red: "You mean you… your dad didn't…" he flushed even harder "I thought you'd be the first to know. He was caught streaking yesterday by the community pool."

I blinked a few times, unsure if I'd gotten the word right. That boy had more metal in his mouth than a Cannibal Corpse fan. "Streaking?"

"Um, yeah…" he blushed again "Apparently, he went up on a tree branch and it sort of broke while he was…. Err… and security came when they heard him scream. They literally caught him in the act. He broke his hand or something." Erik looked utterly uncomfortable "I thought you knew. I'm sorry."

"No, it's ok." I said. It would help me when I faced Jessica, I decided. After all, I didn't need more drama.

"I… er…" Erik began hesitantly, but, encouraged by my gratitude, he began "I know you were supposed to go to the dance with Mike, but…"

"Excuse me?" I blinked "Who told you that?"

Now Erik did look confused. "Um… Mike. After school. I mean… I thought…"

"Christ…" I cursed under my breath "No, Erik." I said "I'm not going to the dance at all."

"Oh…" he looked stricken for a moment "Why not?"

"I'm going to Seattle." I said, feeling the lie bubbling up to my lips, stronger than any one I'd ever said "I'm going to tour the University of Seattle that weekend."

Erik blinked, looking slightly out of it: "Isn't it a little early? I mean… you could go to Harvard. Or Dartmouth. Why bother with Seattle?"

I laughed at that. Erik, with his little-town naivety was almost too endearing. Of course, I had entertained thoughts about Harvard and Yale and Dartmouth before, but I had realized soon enough I'd never be brilliant enough for one of those hoity-toity high class schools. No need to tell him that though, I thought: "I know that, but I need to be closer to Charlie. It's much cheaper. And it's best I get started early."

"Oh! Oh yes, of course!" Erik nodded vigorously "School's always most important, they say." and then his face fell. He obviously realized he couldn't defend my case and get what he wanted. In that moment, I felt oddly charitable, and offered a kind smile.

"Sorry about the dance. But hey, you could always ask me to prom. I'm pretty sure nobody else will." Because I'd probably be eating dirt by then. But he didn't need to know that.

The hope that lit Erik's face up was enough to make his day, and for a while, I congratulated myself on a job well done. At least somebody was happy. It was a small comfort.

Because my crazy plan was starting to take form, and now it even had a timeline. The weekend after the next. The school dance. Victoria would no doubt want to execute her plan then, if she insisted I take Edward, and when I didn't, it would be for the best that I took her as far away from town as possible. I planned on driving out to the hut where she had kept me (it couldn't be too far, if Harry Clearwater went there, clearly inebriated), setting the scene up. There, I would somehow distract Victoria enough to immobilize her (that part was still rickety) and then I'd set the shack on fire. If she managed to keep me there for a week, I was pretty sure its owners wouldn't mind it going down.

And if the plan didn't work… oh, well, I'd be dead anyway, it would be better if I went down fighting. Shot down in a blaze of glory, eh, Bon Jovi?

I wouldn't let myself be used. Not by Victoria, not by anyone. My pride was the only thing I had left. I only hoped I could make it in time.

I tore myself away from thoughts of death and destruction and drowned in the boring reality of school life. Now that I had given up completely on Edward, I didn't feel a need to flirt and look interested in whatever the dumb jocks wanted to say. Jessica's heartbreak over Mike's little act did not touch me, nor did Lauren's gleefulness annoy me. I simply couldn't feel it anymore. Maybe I had gone numb.

Angela was the only person I was glad to see, and she looked equally glad to see me as well. I actually felt sad, thinking that we couldn't be friends. It would have made my life here so much easier, to have a friend, but what good would it do if I ended up hurting them? I suddenly felt compelled to do something nice for her, anything that would lessen my guilt when I… I didn't want to think about it.

I felt grim as I walked into the cafeteria, and just bought a bottle of lemonade. I couldn't stomach anything else. Somehow, putting a time to my suicide plan hadn't done wonders for my appetite.

"Edward Cullen is staring at you again." Jessica giggled in my ear. When I didn't deign to acknowledge her statement, she repeated it, and added. "I wonder why he's sitting alone today."

"Probably his siblings didn't want him messing up their together time." I didn't mean to sound so bitter, but the last thing I wanted at the moment was Edward Cullen. Jessica stared at me, probably trying to deduce the reason why I was suddenly so hostile towards the boy, but then her eyes widened and she gasped.

"Oh, my…."

"Excuse me," a clear musical voice said right from behind me. I turned halfway and looked up at Edward's eyes. "I'm going to have to steal Bella away from you today. Biology homework." His crooked smile was aimed directly at Jessica, which nearly sent the girl sprawling across the floor. She nodded weakly and before I knew it, I was following Edward to the table where his tray lay, dazzled, I guess, like the rest of them. However, I shook the stupor off and glared at him.

"What's this about?" I asked when I sat down. I was too angry to be civil, but smart enough not to make a scene. "I don't remember Banner giving us any homework."

"I'm just returning the favor," Edward said with a tight, impatient smile as he spread out his Biology papers.

I took a swig of the lemonade, calculating. I could get up and humiliate him… or I could stay and fuck with him. Both seemed appropriate at the moment, but I decided to go with the latter, too curious to hear what he wanted to say. I played with the charade, setting the prompts, before sitting on the edge of my chair and leaning in. He mimicked my movements and we looked just like a couple of teenagers doing their homework. Pity that sort of banter didn't suit this sort of situation.

"What favor?" I asked casually, eyeing him from under my lashes.

"You didn't tell the whole school what you think you saw, after the accident with Tyler's van," He said in the same tone. "I'm not saying that it's the truth, but it saved me a lot of inconvenience."

"Really? And, pray, what kind of inconvenience are you sparing me now?" I mocked.

He looked at me straight in the eye, and for a moment I felt a little uneasy. They made me feel like I was under an X-ray, as if they stripped me naked. Not the sexy sort of naked, mind you, but the uncomfortable "I-know-your-every-secret-because-I'm-stalking-you" kind of naked. Edward held my gaze for less than thirty seconds, but I felt like I was being under fire. My heart beat faster and I felt a familiar heat crawl up my chest.

"From sitting with people you hate," he said simply.

"I don't hate them," I denied immediately, and it was true… partially. I liked Angela.

"With one notable exception," he corrected himself. His smile was mocking. I frowned. Laugh it up, gay boy.

"Well, thank you for that daring rescue, Sir Galahad, but it's a little too late for that." I gathered my books, annoyed that he tricked me so easily "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go sit with my friends." And maybe tell them you're a creepy douche.

But before I knew it a long, pale hand had reached out over the table and grabbed my wrist. I gasped – it was ice cold, and it held me down. Firmly, yes, but not hard enough to hurt. Not like the merciless clasps of the debtor's chair. Not like Victoria's iron hold. I felt a rush of… something, maybe static electricity, tickle my arm, before it was gone, leaving behind a pleasant warmth. It was oddly comforting, stable. I shuddered.

He felt it and let me go as if I had just burned him. But his eyes were imploring. "Please stay. Surely your friends can spare you for one hour."

Of course they could, but I wasn't willing to. Still… I sat down again, reluctantly. I didn't want the bastard thinking that he had some control over me, but… well, maybe just this once. And if Victoria saw us… well, all the better.

"So what is it?" I asked "Surely you could've "saved" me ages ago? Is there something you wanna say to me?"

"Actually, it's more like a question," He said "It's about the Spring dance."

I tensed, wondering if he'd changed his mind. And then slapped myself for feeling to hopeful. "Yes?"

"I heard you were going to Seattle that day," he said "I was wondering if you wanted a ride over."

I blinked. "A ride?"

"Yes."

"To Seattle?"

"Yes."

"Why?" the question was stupid, since I wasn't going to Seattle to begin with, but I guess that noblesse oblige and all that. Or maybe it was politeness obliged? Whatever.

"Well, I couldn't help but overhear…" how? "That you were going to tour the University of Seattle, and I was wondering if your truck could make it with one tank of gas."

"My truck is just fine," I said, feeling my old annoyance come back with a vengeance. "And I don't really see like this is any of your business."

"The waste of finite resources is everybody's business." I snorted. "What?"

"You, saying stuff like finite resources. You're driving a Volvo. I think your carbon footprint can rival the Abominable Snowman's."

He grinned at that. "If that is true, then yours would happen to be the size of the Atlantic Ocean, Bella. Surely, you can see that yourself."

I started to laugh, and then stopped, mortified. The banter was nice, almost friendly. I could get lost in it, even enjoy it. But getting closer to this guy… this wasn't happening. This was the guy who spent six weeks ignoring me, the same guy who threatened me that I'll never be able to find out that truth. The same guy who'd turned me down… after all I wanted was to be nice… well, at least that's as much as he knew. Even with Victoria breathing down my neck, I couldn't possibly allow him to blindside me so quickly.

"Are you suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder?" I asked in a flat voice "Because your mood swings are starting to give me a whiplash."

Edward smiled, as if I had made a jolly good joke. Then he seemed to realize that I wasn't kidding. "Bella, I'm just trying to be nice to you."

"You saved my life," I said "And then you acted as if you regretted doing it. You spent six weeks acting like you hated me, and I'm pretty inclined to believe that you do. So don't use my own words against me, Edward. You've no right to say you want to be nice to me after all you did."

His face sobered, completely devoid of humor. But it wasn't the Edward from the last few weeks looking back at me. No, this wasn't the cold aloof man I had come to know. He looked more like a little boy who had just broken his mother's favorite vase – sad, incomprehensive, and almost too eager to make things right.

In other words, he was giving me the puppy dog look, and I found it rather… disarming.

"I meant what I said back then," he began "It would be in your best interest to erase the accident from your memory and never mention it again. In fact, hating me would only do you good. We shouldn't be friends, Bella. It's not… I can't be a good friend to you. But I can't stay away from you anymore."

Edward fell silent, and watched me. What did he want? Was I supposed to reply? How could I come up with a retort for something like that?

His little speech had angered me, of course, just like yesterday. But this was worse than his rejection – it was logic. He told me all the good reasons why we needed to stay apart, why I needed to hate him (not that I needed more incentive for that) and why the accident had to be buried. They were good reasons – all of them made me want to run away screaming. But now that I had Victoria forcing my hand, I didn't have much choice on the matter now, did I?

And, if that wasn't enough, he had the audacity to tell me that he couldn't stay away from me anymore. As if I was sooo irresistible! As if I was a freaking super model! As fucking if!

"Well, that's very convenient," I said "'I love you against my better judgment', isn't it? It's a nice line, Edward, but I'm not such a twat as to fall for it."

He stared, probably taken aback by my use of the word "twat".

I got up on my feet and grabbed my papers again. "You should find someone else to fuck around with. I'm going to class."

Edward didn't grab my hand this time. Instead, he laid his hands over my biology books firmly and glared at me. "Sit down, Isabella." What the hell?

"Holding my things hostage…" I drawled. "How very kindergarten of you, Edward."

"If you have any idea what is right for you, you will sit down right this minute."

I felt the smirk creeping up on my lips. Right for me, huh? I was well past the point of thinking what was right for me. I wanted to be reckless, wild, to let something happen instead of all this suspense. If this whole thing was a rubber band, it was now pulled until nearly its limit. I wanted to snap it. And yet, a small, tiny voice in the back of my head implored me to just shut the fuck up and see what he would do.

I sat again and said, coolly, "So, let's suppose I don't care what is right for me? Then what?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, even when his eyes, his face, his freaking body, said 'everything'. "But it would explain why you're going to the prom with Erik Yorkie."

I frowned. "So boys do gossip in the bathrooms. I'm not surprised."

"Why are you going with him?" he asked, and the look on his face was freaking… indescribable. I couldn't find a word for it. Jealousy? How could Edward Cullen be jealous? The emotion on his face was so raw it hurt. He looked as if he was being eaten alive inside out. "After you invited me to the dance, you practically agreed on going with him."

"So what?" I asked, suddenly feeling hope well up in my chest. If he was jealous, then falling in love with me wasn't such a problem after all. Maybe, just maybe, there would be a way out of this. Maybe, if he trusted me enough with his secret, I could trust him with mine. He wasn't a monster like Victoria. I knew he wasn't. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't so bad after all.

"So what?" he repeated, flabbergast "I cannot believe you are willing to do that!"

"Why? Why do you have such a problem with me going to prom with Erik? You obviously don't care for me, so why shouldn't I agree to go with someone else?"

Something shifted in his eyes, and then his poker face was on, the perfect mask of composure. He'd closed up. And he'd left me out, once again. My breath caught in my throat as I realized what was coming.

"I'm just looking out for you," he said "It's not right, what you're doing."

Son-of-a… Coward! Freaking fucking coward! I was never much of a violent person, but I seriously wanted to do something to this guy. Kick him, stab him, hurt him. Call him every sort of insult ever created. I only knew those in English and Spanish, but they seemed enough.

My hope withered and died as I filled up with another emotion – cold, dead fury.

"Oh, really? So that's what you call it," I said, my voice calm. Too calm. It was the voice that preceded tears. It was only moments away, but I couldn't get up and storm away. Not before I gave him a good jab. "It looks to me like you have the mental maturity of a toddler."

His eyes widened and he recoiled, giving me the opportunity to grab my books and stuff them in my bag. I didn't. I wasn't done.

"You think I'm your toy, right? Even if you don't want me, you can't stand the idea of someone playing with what's yours, is that it? And you're mad at me for just doing what is natural." My voice was low now, agitated, and angry. Perfect. "Of course, why should I even try it? High School must be hell for everybody. God save me from doing anything that would relieve me from being bullied by the neighborhood jerk. I should be hung for the unforgivable crime of wanting to go to prom and just have fun with a nice guy!"

"That's not what I…" he began, but then the bell rang and cut him off. I gathered my things and got up.

My back was ramrod straight as I marched off into biology. I caught sight of Jessica's confused expression as I came in, and she made a move to come and sit with me and ask me what the hell had just happened. I shook my head at her, telling her to lay off for now. To her credit, she looked genuinely worried. I must've looked like a nutcase.

Oh, how I wanted to cry.

A/N - Reviews are very welcome. Or rotten tomatos, whatever works - starving students need what they can get. (Kidding. I'm not starving.)