Disclaimer: We are not Stephenie Meyer and therefore are not the rightful owners of the Twilight series or anything within it. Silly. :)

A/N: Sorry for the late chapter. It's my (Allie's) fault. I was writing it last night while I was watching TV and I was almost done, and then I read it over and was like "Uhm… what exactly was I thinking?" It was super bipolar because I had been watching SVU, so my mood and the TV show's mood had mixed. Unfortunately, as consequence, a vast majority of the chapter had to be rewritten.


Cursed
By cALLIEfornia BENches

Chapter 10: Battle of Change

Previously on Cursed:

"They've already made the decisions on almost every single one they're going to publish. Good news is, there's one spot left, and you're one of the final contenders for that final position."

"Wait, I wasn't one of the first picked?" I asked, confused. I was one of their bestsellers.

Jacob let out another sigh. "I know, that's what I said. It was a fluke. They kind of set you aside assuming you'd get a spot and spent more time looking at the smaller authors, but then they realized there was only one spot left and they couldn't make a decision between two authors."

I totally knew what was coming. I could see it a mile away.

So I shouldn't have been surprised when the words left his lips. "Bad news is Edward's the other contender."

There it is.

Jacob ended up asking me to come to his office to discuss it further. In something of a daze, I drove to his building and sat in his office.

I had been sitting in silence for a good twenty minutes, processing the information again. Or at least it felt that long. For all I knew, it could have been thirty seconds. But it sure as hell felt like twenty minutes.

"So what you're saying is the publishers can't decide between me—their trustworthy client of five years—and a newbie? That doesn't make any sense. Why isn't this a no-brainer?" I asked, frustrated. I could have predicted this a mile away, but all the same, it was entirely too frustrating. It wasn't fair that Edward, of all people, had to take over my publishing company. This spot should be mine.

"That's what I said," Jacob replied as he stood up and started pacing behind his desk, "But the talent between you guys is so close: you both have three best sellers, both your work and his has been nationally recognized, and you guys are both astounding authors. It's too close to call. Though your work isn't comparable in genres and style, the effect of both is almost identical."

I sighed. "Why can't they just take someone else off the list?"

"That's cruel," Jacob said with a shake of their head, "We've already told them they've got the part. Ripping them away from it would be terrible. These are new authors. There's nothing more exciting than your first deal; you remember that feeling. I'm not so heartless as to give them that feeling and then take it back."

My mouth twitched as I stared at the floor. "What can I do?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said. "There's only so much that can be done. And the only thing I know for sure that you can do is make one hell of a book. Not just as good as the rest, but better. You've got to blow Edward out of the water."

"Can't you just put in a good word for me or something?"

He shook his head sat down on the couch against the wall adjacent from me. "No can do, Bells. I'm not allowed bias. If I even show any kind of it, they won't let me in on the board meeting."

"But you will vote for me, right?"

He hesitated. For way too long.

"Jake!" I shouted, standing up. How dare he hesitate?!

"What?" He shrugged his shoulders. "I can't promise you my vote right now, Isabella. This isn't high school. As much as I love you, I have to read both of them before I can fairly judge."

My brows furrowed. "Traitor," I fumed. Granted, I was probably overreacting, but I didn't care. Jake had his own dramatic moments. I was entitled to my own every once in a while. I stood up angrily and stormed over to the door, throwing it open. "Bye, Jake," I said, trying to sound angry. It wasn't working very well.

"Bella," he said calmly. I spun around and looked at him. Sometime in the few seconds it had taken me to walk over to the door, he had followed me. "Bye, babe." He kissed my cheek.

I sighed, defeated, and kissed him soundly. "Bye, Jakey."

He smiled.

I shut the door behind me, angry that I was such a pushover when it came to my best friend.


When I arrived at my building, I completely disregarded my apartment and went straight for Edward's. I banged on his door until I heard footsteps and a tired "I'm coming, I'm coming, calm down."

The door opened and there stood a tired-looking Edward. His hair was even more disheveled than normal, and he was clad in sweatpants and an old ratty t-shirt with a decent-sized hole in the top right shoulder that revealed a little scar that he had had since he was probably about five years old. He told everyone that he got bitten by a dog after it tried to attack him, but anyone who knew him as long as I had knew that he simply ran into the corner of the counter when he was being chased by Emmett.

In Edward's hands was a bowl of cereal, which obviously he had just taken a bite from because his cheeks were stuffed with food. His eyebrows were lifted high into his forehead, showing he was extremely shocked to see me standing there.

"Did you just wake up?" I asked, my anger momentarily forgotten. A glance at my watch said it was nearing eleven.

"Yeah," he said, taking the hand that was holding his spoon and running it over his face once. "What'd you need?"

Oh, right, I thought. I was supposed to be angry at him. My anger returned quickly upon being reminded why I had shown up on his doorstep in the first place. "Why did you have to come to Jacob's publishing company?"

He blinked twice, sleepily confused. "What? Didn't we already go over this?" He sighed. "Isabella, if you're interested in rehashing old fights, please come back a little later. I woke up like five minutes ago and I'm not fully awake yet. At least make it a fair fight and wait until I'm completely conscious, alright?"

I threw out my hand to stop the door as he tried to shut it in my face. "No, Edward. That's not why I'm here. I'm here because I'm pissed and angry. At you."

"Gee, what else is new?" he muttered under his breath.

I glared. "I assume Jacob told you that it's down to you and me for the last publishing spot?"

"Yeah," he said, blindly reaching to the side of him to set down his bowl of what looked like Cinnamon Toast Crunch. He leaned his body up against the doorway, looking more tired than angry or annoyed.

"…And?!" I asked angrily. "Aren't you angry about it?"

"Of course I am, Isabella. That was a stupid thing to ask. But the fact is, it's eleven o'clock in the morning, I just woke up, and my mind is still asleep. Not to mention the fact that it isn't like there's anything that you or I can do about it. To be honest, I'm not exactly sure why you're here. It's not like I went to Jacob and said 'Hey, old friend, do me a solid and make it so Isabella and I have to go up against each other in a fierce competition for the publishing of our next book.' No, Isabella, I didn't. And I don't for one second think that you did, either."

My brows furrowed, a little surprised that he said that to me. Usually he was either annoyingly calm—which usually came off as cocky—or he was really angry. And right now he was neither. He was simply pissed and annoyed that I had interrupted his breakfast. That just pissed me off further.

"Oh, don't give me that, Masen. We both know that this could have been avoided if you had simply decided to go to any other publisher. So don't give me this 'I can't help it' shit. This spot was saved for me. But you just had to come in there and take it from my poor little grasp. Edward, that isn't fair. You know it and I know it." I couldn't help it, but my voice started to sound a little pathetic. "It isn't fair that you have a chance at getting your book published when I'm the one that has been using them since my first book. So it seems to me that you need to give it up and realize that I'm the one that deserves this. Not you.

"Had it been the other way around, and I had come to your publisher, I would agree that you would deserve to get the book published. But you'd be stupid to think that, for some reason, you deserve it more than me. Because it's mine. I deserve it, and I have and will work for it. So please, just leave it alone. Just this once, help me out here. Do this for me. I know we've had our differences, but I don't think you understand how much this means to me. I can't lose this."

He was quiet for a moment before he answered. "I'll tell you what, Swan. I'm not going to give it up. I've worked just as hard as you have to get to where I am today. And just because you asked nicely for me to drop out doesn't mean I'm going to. Not in the slightest. In fact, I'm going to work even harder."

I scoffed. "You're just doing it to piss me off, now."

The corner of his mouth twitched up into a crooked smile. "So?" he said. I nearly growled at him. "May the best man win."

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. He was such an asshole. "Do you ever keep your trap shut?" I asked, clenching my fists.

"Nope," he said with a sarcastic smile.

"What am I going to do with you?" I asked, mostly to myself. I spun on my heel, frustrated as ever, and headed to my apartment.

"Love you," he sang sarcastically after me.

"Fuck you," I sang in the same tone, slamming my front door open so hard it banged into the wall behind it. It probably left a sort of dent, but I couldn't get myself to care. The fury bubbling in my veins couldn't even be put into words. I wished I had the ability to go over there and punch his face in. Unfortunately, I knew he was much, much, stronger than me. And though I knew he would never hit a girl, I wasn't really in the mood to tempt him. He could take me down faster than a cheetah.

I attempted to walk into my apartment, but my foot caught on something in the doorway. I caught myself before I fell onto my face and, even more frustrated than before, reached down to pick whatever it was up.

It was the measuring cup I had lent Edward back when Tanya was there, and there was a note attached.

Bella,

Edward gave me the flour and eggs that you gave to him a few days ago. I made cupcakes.
They were delicious.

Love Craig

PS- Are you and Edward sleeping together? Must be feisty the way you two argue all the time. Hot.

With a roll of my eyes, I dropped the measuring cup on the kitchen counter along with the note. I didn't have time for Craig right now.

I threw myself onto my couch and buried my face into the pillow, letting out a ferocious—yet muffled—scream. I was so damn frustrated with Edward. With everything. I was sick competing with him, I was sick of fighting with him, I was sick of him. Why did fate insist on pushing us together through everything? There was so much that I wished I had done differently during my childhood. Maybe we were being pushed together because we didn't get along. Maybe if we had been friends as kids, this would go away.

Maybe then we wouldn't have had every single class together growing up. All through elementary school, every single class of every single year in middle school and high school, and then every class we had in college—because, of course, we got into the same school and decided to major in the same thing. Just thinking about it makes me sick—if I told anyone about it, they wouldn't believe me. They'd think I was being dramatic. It's that unrealistic.

It's like this ridiculous curse that someone had set upon us, forcing us to always be together in everything we do. And it was annoying as fuck, because there was no getting away from him.

Just as I was preparing to brood for the next few hours, my phone rang. I let out a frustrated growl and pulled it from the front pocket of my jeans. Caller ID said it was Rosalie.

"Hey," I answered lamely.

"Hey Bella. Listen, I don't feel like beating around the bush. Edward told Jasper who told Emmett who told me some bad news. And you're probably going to throw a mini-fit when I tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out too terribly, okay?"

My eyes narrowed at the pillow I was face-to-face with. "Go on," I said, not promising anything.

She took a deep breath, as if trying to prepare herself.


I slammed my fist against Edward's door, harder than I ever had before. I hadn't even knocked on his door this hard that first day, when his music was too loud.

When the door opened, I shoved myself into his apartment without an invitation.

"Please, Isabella, come right in. So glad you could join me," I heard him murmur sarcastically as he closed the door after me.

I went straight to his bedroom and folded my arms at the setup. Rosalie was right—it fit the scenario perfectly; his bed was against the wall that separated my room from his, making it easy to shove. Making it easy to repeatedly hit the wall. Making it easy to fake sex.

"What are you doing in my bedroom?" his voice came from behind me. "Just couldn't get enough of me?" He laughed once, the sarcasm clearly evident in his voice.

Without answering, I spun on my heel and slapped him across the face. Wow, that felt good, I thought absently. But the other part of me felt a little guilty. Maybe he didn't deserve that slap.

"Ow," he drawled as he brought his hand up to rub his cheek and flex his jaw. "What the hell was that for?"

"You little liar," I sneered, walking towards him. He automatically took a few steps back. "Not only are you a liar, but you're a traitor. Which is rich, considering we weren't even on the same team. How can you live with yourself?"

He shook his head, dropping his hand to his side. "Isabella, you're going to need to fill me in on why I'm a liar and a traitor."

I smirked and folded my arms across my chest. "Does the name Tanya ring a bell?"

Comprehension dawned on his face and he visibly paled. "Who told you about that?" he said.

"Does it matter, Edward?"

"You're damn right it matters. Who ratted me out?"

"So you don't deny the fact that you faked sex with Tanya to fake your own win?"

He shook his head. "Who was it?"

I didn't want to rat out my friends, but I kind of wanted to rub it in his face that I had more people on my side than he did on his. "Rosalie," I said. "But it doesn't matter. Fact is, not only did you cheat in this little game we have, but you told her. You're aware that, by telling her, I most likely lost one of my biggest fans? You're an idiot, Edward Masen." I attempted to walk past him, leaving him on that note, but he reached out and grabbed my arm—surprisingly gently—so I couldn't go anywhere.

"Hey, don't give me that guilt trip," he said. "You were just as much involved in this as I was."

I laughed sourly. "What? I wasn't the one that faked sex to win a stupid non-existent contest! I wasn't in there with you when you were doing… that," I said, motioning to the bed.

"No," he said, "you weren't. But you were in on the little competition. She felt used, Isabella. As I think I probably would, too, if I found out that two people were having a contest over me to win my affection. It was only fair that she knew about it. You were just involved in that as I was, I just decided to tell her instead of keeping it a secret."

I clenched my jaw together and averted my eyes from his face. I didn't want to admit that he was right. My lip twitched.

The silence stretched out awkwardly between us, and I wanted nothing more than to leave. But I couldn't. Partially because Edward still had a hold on my arm, but also because, for the first time, I kind of wanted to talk to him. I wanted to ask him what he thought about our… well, relationship, if you could call it that. It seemed, talking to him now, that he almost thought it was all ridiculous. But I didn't feel like our relationship was quite at that level.

At the same time, I didn't know if it would ever be. I might not get the chance to ask him again.

"Edward…," I started, bringing my loose hand to the back of my neck and rubbing gently. "I—"

"It's fine. I'm sure Tanya will forgive you with time. She was too big of a fan of yours to just give it all up like that," he said. I opened my mouth to say that no, I wasn't about to apologize, but I decided against it. The moment had passed, and there was no way I could bring it up again. The hand that was holding my arm squeezed lightly before it dropped back to his side. It was surprisingly… intimate for us. I was more than a little confused. "How much do you want to bet she buys the copy of your next book?" he asked with a crooked smile.

"Are you saying I'll win?" I said, narrowing my eyes slightly. "Does that mean you're giving in?"

"Not in the slightest." His smile disappeared and a cocky look plastered itself over his face.

I scoffed. "Of course not."

And whatever moment we happened to have been having was gone, just like that. And we were back to our old ways. Somehow, I wasn't surprised it had ended up this way. It was always like this with us. Part of me was a little disappointed. I was curious as to see if my theory had been right. If we had stayed nice to each other, would we stop being forced together like two magnets of the same charge?

We stood there for a moment, awkwardly staring at each other.

"I, uhm… I should probably go," I said. "I've got a best seller to write."

"You wish," he retorted with a snort. "Listen, I've got to get to writing, too. You know the way out?"

"Yeah."

So I showed myself out the door and went back to my apartment, less angry but not quite defeated. My moods were confused. And that only meant one thing:

I could really go for one of Craig's cupcakes.


A/N: Okay, honestly, how cute are guys when they wake up in the morning? :) I don't know about you guys, but I think they're pretty damn adorable. I'm a total sucker for adorable boys post-sleep. I couldn't resist having Edward answer the door like that. *Licks lips.*

Anyway. I'm not a big fan of this chapter, but it was necessary. Their relationship, if you couldn't tell, is starting to change slightly. They don't really know why, or how they feel about it (who knows, maybe they'll both hate it and go back to how it was? Gasp!) but it's there, nevertheless.

If this chapter seemed relatively bipolar, I apologize. As I said at the top, a lot of it had to be rewritten, and there's a good chance I missed some. Sorry. :(

Until Tuesday,

cALLIEfornia BENches