A Bad Deal?

Seduction of the Youth

A/N: Third part of the Rosalie POV. I think I only have one more part to go unless I decide to add more somewhere along the way.

She wanted to go talk to her. She didn't want to go talk to her.

She wanted to go hug her so hard that she would never let go again. She wanted to go punch her so hard her teeth would break.

She wanted to cry at the sight of her; tears of joy that would spill out of her eyes like rivers. She wanted to cry at the sight of her; tears of anger trailing hotly down her cheeks.

She wanted to...she wanted to...do something but she didn't know what. She was upset, happy, but mainly confused. After all this time, Bella was back. And Rosalie didn't know how to deal with this.

On the one hand she was happy because finally after all this time, after all the longing she had locked away in the coldest part of her heart, the brunette was back. They could be friends again. They could laugh and hang out to their hearts content. And Bella would listen to all of Rosalie's woes and smile and hug her, and kiss her on the cheek until her skin would flush and she would feel better.

But on the other hand she was angry. So, so angry and bitter. Bella had left her, had thrown away their friendship without a single care. She had made Rosalie sad for so long. Had made her distrust others. She wanted to hurt Bella. Wanted her to hurt like Rosalie had hurt. Bella deserved it in the very least.

But the worst part of these two parts of her that kept trying to tear her apart was the fact that Bella didn't seem to remember Rosalie. And that hurt her. Hurt her all over again. It was foolish to be troubled by that; it had been years, about ten years, and so many things had happened in between then. But the fact that there wasn't even a sliver of a recognition in her honey brown eyes made Rosalie unbearably sad. And so what did she do to deal with all these emotions that were tearing her apart? She picked on others. She began to pick on others, to share her pain with them through fists. For she didn't have anyone to share words with. Her friends couldn't know about this weakness of hers; they would only exploit it. And her parents were in a different part of the world right now. So she had no one, save herself and the demons that visited her at night.

She tried to keep Bella out of her thoughts, but the girl kept weaseling her way back in. Rosalie wondered how she was now; what her hobbies were, what she liked to eat, if she still visited that creek, and mostly, why she had left and was now back. She fantasized running into Bella and becoming friends with her again, with seeing her smile and feeling her soothing touch. But another part of her destroyed those happy fantasizes, calling for blood and vengeance, to make the brunette repent for her crimes.

Rosalie was only so lucky she didn't have Bella in her classes, for thoughts of the other tormented her at night and they would only follow her into the day and distract her class work if Bella sat anywhere in the room. But a part of her wished Bella was in her class so that they could work together on a project and somehow get reacquainted. Really, Rosalie felt so pathetic, so useless, and unable to get her thoughts back in order. The brunette plagued her mind every moment. It was like the sight of her had opened up so many things inside the blonde that she hadn't known she had had bottled up.

One of them being lust.

Rosalie hadn't ever really cared for dating. She would hook up with guys and then be done with them after the third or fourth date, none of them really arousing more than a light interest in her. No matter how big their muscles, or how shiny their cars, or how nice their teeth and the words that came from behind them, she was oft unimpressed and uninterested. She figured it was always because she hadn't met the right one yet and just enjoyed mindless indulgence in dating various super models and actors.

But it wasn't until that incident that she knew why this was. And it was all Bella's fault. It had happened during a shared gym class. The school had let the students out, seeing as it was a nice day, and organized an event that would let all three gyms classes interact with one another in a set of challenges such as a racing track, or tug of war. Rosalie found them no trouble as she was very fit. She had easily been nominated by her class to be their representative and was glad to fulfill the role as it would keep her occupied and mind off of Bella and how damn nice those shorts looked on her legs. Bella had been the one to bring around giant jugs of water to quench their thirst that day, running back and forth with her heavy load. The poor girl didn't seem to be much of an athlete.

Rosalie rarely let her eyes trail over to Bella, figuring if she ignored the girl, the problem would just go away on its own. Yet, she still desired to met the girl, desired to be cruel to her, to be nice. But on that day, she let her eyes pivot to her, figuring it would be safe to do so since there were so many people around that were too wrapped up in their own conversations and she wasn't in danger of getting caught staring. Of course she had chosen the wrong time to look, for Bella had unceremoniously tripped and upended the jug of water on herself just a couple feet away from Rosalie. She was so clumsy it was cute.

When she had managed to pick herself up with the aid of a nearby boy, she frowned in disappointment when she saw the whole front of her shirt was wet and clinging to her body. Fork's high gym clothes were white with red trim and a wet white shirt revealed everything. Rosalie was able to see Bella's ample breasts through the fabric. Her bra, which had been white, also failed to be discrete with what it was meant to hide.

Her eyes unabashedly followed the curves all the way to Bella's nipples before she could help herself and she felt such a bolt of arousal between her legs that she let out a huge gasp. She spun around and clamped a hand over her mouth, shocked at her own self. It had been so sudden she had been caught off guard. Never had she ever felt this before. What was going on? Why was she feeling this way? And for a girl of all people! Specifically Bella, who had hurt her!

She swallowed shakily and tried to push the incident out of her mind, instead focusing on the tasks to occur, but she couldn't ignore it forever. When she got home she plopped down on her couch and let her thoughts roam back to that moment, wondering how it would feel to let her fingers trail over those mounds, how it would feel to let her mouth do the touching instead. Warm fingers of arousal swam through her blood, frightening her at the same time it made her head cloudy.

What was going on? Was she...gay?

But that couldn't be the case!

She liked guys. She just hadn't met the right one yet.

She shook her head to free herself of such thoughts. She wasn't gay. She couldn't be. But just to make sure, she'd never look at Bella again.

Rosalie somehow managed to make it through those last hellish months of her first year of high school by ardently avoiding anything and everything having to do with Bella. Summer was arriving and with it more modeling work for Rosalie.

It was also the summer that she finally had to face reality.

She wasn't straight.

No matter how hard she wished she was.

The summer up until that point she had been having a blast with. There had been parties, bonfires, tanning and drinking, making out with hot dudes, and sexy rides up and down town in expensive cars. Not to mention a wicked amount of modeling contracts for Rosalie, all which let her travel to France or Italy. She was raking in the big bucks, having a hell of time seeing and experiencing new things, and she was getting more independent. She was entering the world of adulthood and she loved it. She felt powerful and smart and beautiful (definitely beautiful as everyone so loved to remind her every chance they got) but something wasn't sitting right with her. And it hadn't, the whole summer. Which bummed her out. Because she had tried to push the concern to the back of her mind but it kept bouncing out to the forefront in her more quiet moments, when it was just her and her thoughts.

It frustrated her to no end. Because these thoughts were ruining what she could otherwise call a perfect summer vacation. And she didn't know what to do about it, how to get them to stop. And her thoughts were something along the lines of shit, since when are girls so alluring? The whole summer she had been trying to drown out her sudden interest in women by going and making out with a shit ton of guys to cover her feelings up. But no matter how many guys she ended up hooking up with, it was never enough. She couldn't stop comparing a guy's hard muscles to a woman's soft curves. A guy's short hair to a woman's luxurious locks. Thin lips to full.

She wanted to be with a girl, no matter how hard she tried to fool herself, the need was there and it was driving her mad. She didn't want to be gay; she couldn't be gay. In her position, as a popular girl and model, it would be her downfall, she was certain of it. So she had to get rid of these tendencies. She had to. But what her sober mind wanted versus what her drunk mind wanted, were two different things. And while Rosalie was good at keeping her emotions and desires stemmed, as after all in the modeling world, show a single ounce of weakness and they would eat you alive, there was even a limit for her. And it came one night during a party celebrating the last week of summer before school started.

Rosalie had dolled herself up that night, ready to have a good time and to forget her worries with her sexuality. She would make out with so many guys that she would never want to kiss a girl, or so she figured. In her heels and tight purple shoulder-less dress and curled blonde hair, she looked just like a Barbie. Her friends were also there at the party. Alice in a leather jacket, sporting a black bra underneath that doubled as a shirt and Jasper wearing a polo and boat shorts. Edward and Emmett had gone off somewhere deep into the confines of the basement in order to smoke some pot with the kid who was throwing the party, leaving the trio to finish off a bottle of Jack Daniels by themselves. They were already drunk and steadily getting drunker.

Rosalie could barely balance in her shoes and Jasper was stumbling over his words. Alice seemed less drunk than any of them but it was hard to tell. The night passed in a blur of noise and dancing and making out, and when Rosalie awoke next morning she found herself in the bed of the house she had been partying at. She had gone so hard, she hadn't even left.

Feeling like pins and needles were covering her whole body, and that a rock was sitting on her face, she got up, trying to fix the front of her dress which had been torn to reveal her bra. Luckily her phone was still in her bra. That was a relief.

But just what the hell had she done last night? Her heels were missing and her hair was a mess, all tangled up. No one else was in the room with her, so that meant if she had slept with anyone, they had left. She wondered who it was.

She made her way over to the door, her stomach rolling around. The rest of the house was a mess, plastic cups and spilled liquids on the floor as well as other unidentifiable puddles. There were some people sleeping on the couches but none of which were Rosalie's friend group. She wondered if they had already gone home. Not wanting to stay here any longer or continue searching for them, she made her way back to her house.

The first thing she did was shower, immediately feeling better; cleaner. A pill took care of the pain in her head, and as she got ready to go back to sleep fluffing up her thick white covers and the six pillows on her bed, her phone rang. She unlocked it to read the message that Alice had sent her. She slowly sat up as her face paled and her throat went dry. Alice had just sent Rosalie a picture of Rosalie making out with some girl. It was unmistakable. Rosalie caught in the middle of a passionate kiss with some brunette she didn't know but looked like someone she did know, their hands all over each other and bodies spread out on the bed Rosalie had woken up in this morning.

But that wasn't it. There was more. More photos, all of which Alice began to send in rapid succession to Rosalie. It was like looking at a fliporama, and with shaking fingers, Rosalie continued to scroll through, the girls in the two pictures progressing in their passion.

Rosalie was vaguely aware that her breathing was shallow and that a bitter taste had filled her mouth. She felt dirty; exposed. She wanted to cry, to scream, to have someone comfort her. Oh god, her secret desires had surfaced and Alice of all people had seen it.

Why had it been Alice? Why her? Why couldn't it have been one of the guys?

Her hand came up to her mouth as new text messages rolled in. All from Alice.

Would you look at all this. It turns out Fork's Golden Girl is actually a Libidinous Lesbian. What would the people at school think once they saw these photos?

Rosalie knew Alice would resort to blackmailing her. Alice was power hungry. She may claim to be Rosalie's 'friend' but she wasn't and never was in reality. All she wanted was to be the top bitch at the school and now that she had finally found a fault in Rosalie's armor she was going to milk it for all it was worth so that she could become the head bitch at school, to be numero uno in the social scale.

Rosalie's stomach tightened as her fingers pressed down on her phone screen. What could she say? Could she convince Alice that she had only been doing this for fun? Could she make Alice delete these photos? I was just having a bit of fun ;) A guy and I were planning on having a three way so he asked me to check my compatibility with this girl. If I had known you were watching, I would have invited you in.

Rosalie sent that, chewing on her knuckles nervously. Anybody else would have been scared to challenge Rosalie like this; to even dare threaten to blackmail her. But not Alice. That little bitch was ballsy. She was a danger to Rosalie's popular kid status.

A reply came back mere seconds later. Oh please, Rosie. As if that lie would work on me. This isn't the first time you've done it when super shit faced. You've even attempted to make out with me. Not that I said anything because I was going to keep this little secret for you.

At those words Rosalie felt something bubble up in her throat. Disgust and fear. She made it to the bathroom just in time, retching dryly into the toilet. Oh fuck. Oh fuck she had screwed up. What had she been thinking making out with Alice? What was wrong with her?

She flushed the toilet and lay curled up on the cold floor of the bathroom. She could hear her phone going off with more messages but she couldn't deal with them right now. She just couldn't. Her body began to shake all over as tears pressed hotly at the backs of her eyes. She stuffed a fist into her mouth to stem the wails that threatened to come out.

She stayed on the bathroom floor until her limbs went cold and stiff, until the silent tears streaming down her face stopped. Only then did she finally compose herself and have the courage to face Alice's demands.