Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer ain't the writer here—but she owns the characters.

What I've Been Reading: Cowboys and Indians by Minisinoo—such a breath of fresh air—Leah and Jasper form an unlikely and highly fascinating friendship. Then A Curious Correspondance by sunshinelollypops. It starts with diva Lauren Mallory popping her ass in Eric Yorkie's face and giving him a bloody nose. Poor Eric, but then Bella is a delightful smartass, and for some reason a gay Aro has decided there's going to be a Harry Potter play—I don't understand, but I've decided that no matter what, it will be wonderful.

A thank you to Thallium81, witvock, and houroflead, who submitted to assuaging my fear mongering and pointing out my fuckups. Y'all get e-hugs.


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Chapter 27:

In Which an Apology Replaces a Eulogy and a Felony Is Technically Avoided

~ * ~

I was standing in the science wing. Karen, or "Ms. Cartwright" as I called her at school, had kept me after hours to convince me to enter a genetic project for the spring science fair—but I remained unconvinced. My lack of enthusiasm sprang in part from the obvious frustration I would encounter working with Ms. Cartwright. As one of my mother's best friends, I knew her far too well; hence, I didn't bat an eye when her son called, reminding her that she needed to collect him from soccer practice. She'd forgotten about that, apparently. The kid was lucky he had a cell phone. I smiled as I sighed. She and Renee ran like two peas in the pod—both constantly passionate and flighty about everything, so it was no wonder they were friends.

Still, it was annoying that I was stuck with the cleanup.

I was sorting through a pile of charts when I heard the door open.

It wasn't whom I expected.

James walked in.

"Bella," he greeted suavely as he walked up to my lab table.

"Oh, hi, James," I replied, my voice unexplainably shy. It was odd. Even though he was my best friend's boyfriend, I had never actually been alone with him. People like James—rich, ridiculously good-looking—didn't associate with scrawny Bella Swan unless by requirement. Trying to not be rude or let my own sense of discomfort spread to him, I asked, "Where's Victoria?"

"Practice went late. She asked me to come meet you."

"That was nice of you."

He smiled and leaned over my lab table so that his face was just inches away. "Bella, why are you alone in science wing after school?"

"Oh…Ms. Cartwright…She left early—I, eh—clean up," I mumbled.

He looked at me for a minute, and then he gave a laugh. "Say that again, Bella."

I rolled my eyes, but then I took a deep breath before I slowly spoke, "Ms. Cartwright was her usual spacey self, so I'm stuck doing the cleanup."

"Well, I'll help you," he offered. He picked up a pair of beakers, and he pointed his head toward a glass paned cabinet with a raised eyebrow.

I smiled and nodded.

And then we both cleaned up.

By the time we finished, Victoria had still yet to show.

"Hey, is it okay, if we go to my locker before we meet Victoria?" he asked.

"Sure."

And then James held open the door for me, and I stiffened when I felt his hand press lightly into my lower back as I went through the doorway.

But I ignored it—it probably meant nothing –I just picked up my pace down the hall. James easily kept the pace by my side.

And then we were at James's locker. I leaned against a locker alongside his and waited while he spun the dial and clicked it open. I realized that I probably needed to get home soon, Phil was coming over—and I didn't want my mom to embarrass herself by actually trying to cook anything on her own.

James interrupted my worrying. "Hey, Bella, can I ask you something?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah."

I'd probably make stroganoff I decided. Simple enough.

"Vicky told me something."

I nodded, waiting for him to get to the point.

James took a step closer to me, putting his hands on the locker on both sides of me as he spoke in a low tone. "She said something about you being a dirty girl, little Bella. Is that true?" he questioned. His voice was deep and low and strong and confident.

I froze. Memories of conversations held in confidence popped into my head, and I felt the traitor heat rising in my cheeks, even as I tried to keep my face blank.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I muttered, trying to duck under his arm as I made to leave.

James gripped my shoulders and firmly pressed my back flush against the line of lockers.

"But I think you do," he said smoothly, still holding me.

"Victoria would never tell you anything like that," I spat wretchedly.

He shook his head slightly. "I don't think Vicky tells you everything, but…" he paused, and then he pressed his body into mine. "I believe there are certain things best aired in the open. I don't think you know your best friend as well as you think you do. What do you say to that, Bella?" And then I felt him reach up to caress my face with his thumb, his face curious. I recoiled. I wanted so badly to flee down the hall—to push away—but I was frozen. His body trapped mine, and I couldn't escape. And then his leg pushed in between mine, and I could feel him through his jeans.

And I was shaking.

"James, let me the fuck go—"

But then I was cut off, because one of his hands grabbed my jaw while the other roughly gripped the side of my breast, and then his mouth was on mine—and his tongue was pushing against my bottom lip and then between my lips and then forcing itself into my mouth—and I briefly considered biting it—but I was worried about the reaction that might provoke. Instead, I jerked my face and his tongue was gone from my mouth, but then his tongue was in the crook of my neck and rolling up to just beneath my ear.

And he was pressing his lower half even harder against me.

"James! I said get the—" I started to yell.

But then there was another voice.

"James—stop!"

Victoria was in the hallway. Laura was with her.

James immediately released his pressure against me and walked over to Victoria with a fucking swagger.

"Hey, Vicky," he greeted, completely nonchalant except for the subtle uptake in his breathing.

"What the—!" she began.

But James cut her off.

"Bella and I had a little chat, Vicky."

Victoria's eyes widened and her gaze flicked from James to me to Laura and back again.

"Bella was confused, but then we all get confused, don't we, Vicky? You should forgive her," he continued as if nothing out of the realm of polite everyday manners had just been exchanged.

Victoria was looking at me then, not at James, not at Laura. Her eyes remained huge, frenzied, questioning. Laura sneered at me. I looked back blankly—hurt—betrayed.

And then Victoria's jaw clenched. She gave James an angry stare.

And then she turned her irate expression on me.

Cold. Alien. Dead.

I was still in shock as she spun on her heel, grabbed Laura's hand, and they walked down the hall.

James turned and gave me a final arrogant smirk before jogging to catch up with them.

I was left in the hallway.

Alone.

Empty.

~ * ~

The next day when I walked into school, I tried to avoid everyone. I called Victoria's line the night before but she had not picked up. When I called her house line, her mother seemed only too gleeful to tell me that I was always the no-good jezebel that she'd always thought I was. Needless to say, I hadn't called again.

I was purposely not paying attention as I walked toward the gym. I had my hoodie pulled over and was comfortable yet still miserable in my favorite pair of tattered old jeans. But then I got there. I got to my locker. There were other girls staring at my locker. They tensed and backed away when I approached. And then I saw.

There were typed strips of paper:

BELLA SWAN MASTURBATES.

BELLA SWAN NEEDS TO KEEP HER HANDS TO HERSELF AND NOT ON OTHER GIRL'S BOYFRIENDS.

BELLA SWAN IS A DIRTY BITCH.

BELLA SWAN…

I stopped reading. I started ripping.

And then there was another set of hands helping me.

I turned to see Ms. Cartwright.

And then once the papers were ripped, her hands pulled me into a hug. "Who did this?" she asked.

I didn't say anything.

Because down the way I saw "Vicky."

She was staring at me, and her face was the same as yesterday.

Cold. Dead. Alien.

Not my friend.

My friend was gone.

~ * ~

"Hi, Bella," Victoria greeted. Her voice was careful but slightly unsteady.

And here I was, sitting on a dusty, splintery park bench with my own personal Judas standing behind me.

Hallelujah.

"I'm leaving," I muttered as I stood up.

"Please, stay," she begged.

I stopped. I looked at her.

"Please, Bella?" she begged again.

She looked… bad for her. Her hair was not in its typical silky mane of defused ringlets but instead was frizzy and smashed under a green, logo-less baseball cap. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot, and lavender circles darkened the crescents beneath them.

"Um, why?" I snapped, but my voice lacked the vitriol I intended it to have.

"I'm…sorry," she breathed, almost whispering

The moment was filled by the nearby sounds of a bat cracking against a ball and the shouting of male voices.

Victoria took a breath and spoke again. "I know it doesn't change anything, but I am. I'm sorry."

"You're right," I agreed coldly. "It doesn't change anything."

"Can we talk?" she asked.

I frowned at her.

"I just want to talk, Bella," she insisted.

I gave a long sigh and sat down.

Fuck me. Here I was again, allowing myself to be vulnerable for no valid reason whatsoever, but then I looked out at the field. I saw Edward staring intently at me. He looked ready to come over, but I stopped him. I smiled at him and waved, shaking my head at the same time. He gave me a tentative smile in return.

Beside me, Victoria spoke, "He's hot, Bella."

"Yeah, surprise, surprise—a hot boy likes Bella," I growled sarcastically.

Victoria's tone didn't change. "I'm not surprised," she said firmly, and then a smirk sneaked into her expression. "Although, it was funny—the other day—to see Laura's reaction. After you left, she was still holding the bag of nuts, and then she was so stunned when I tried to get her attention that she dropped the bag. The pecans scattered all over the place…" Victoria gave a short laugh, but when I didn't respond, her voice quieted down again.

"It's obvious that he loves you. He looked… ready to come over and whisk you away."

I nodded, keeping my eyes fixed on the field—on Edward.

"It must be nice to have someone like that—to not be alone," she murmured.

I gave a shrill laugh and turned to face her. "You have a bitch pack licking at your heels. You have a boyfriend. You have a youth group full of worshipful sycophants. You are notalone."

I had been alone—the pariah—and it had been her fault.

Her self-pity was fucking pathetic.

"James doesn't love me," she murmured, looking out at the field.

I followed her gaze. James was intently watching the two of us, and I couldn't help but notice Edward staring irritably at James.

I turned back to Victoria. I shrugged. "Then leave him," I retorted.

"Funny, Bella."

"I wasn't trying to be."

"I know," she whispered, her voice suddenly low again.

I sighed and then groaned into my hands. This caused my book to fall of my lap.

Victoria picked it up before I could.

"Baby names?" she asked aloud, surprise in her tone.

"Renee," I answered her.

"She wants to have another baby?" she asked.

"Yeah, poor kid, right?"

She laughed, a real laugh, but then her face dropped.

"Renee is a great mom."

I snorted a laugh.

Oh, tofurky…

"Well, you turned out okay. Better than okay." Her tone was thick with implication—defensive and… proud?

Another minute of silence between us. The only sounds were cracks of wooden bats and the slaps of leather balls against leather gloves.

"What's the deal, Victoria?" I muttered finally. "Why now? What do you want from me? Why all of this…" I gestured, flipping my hand about.

She looked down at her hands before she answered me. "I missed you," she said.

I stared at her for only a second to take in her expression.

And then I laughed—maniacally.

I buried my face in my hands as I literally fell to my knees with the force of my laughter.

When I finally regained control of myself, I saw Victoria nodding. "I'm not sure I can ever explain…" she trailed off again. But then she gritted her teeth, and she asked, "Do you think James loves me?" and her voice shook slightly.

"Um, do you love him?" I asked, wondering where this was going.

"I don't know."

"You'd know."

She shook her head. "No," she countered. "I'm not sure I would."

I rolled my eyes. "You know if someone loved you."

She frowned weakly. "I thought I would have but—"

But then a scream rang out across the baseball diamond.

I looked up to see James, standing in the middle of the field, clutching between his legs.

Victoria and I exchanged a brief glance, and then we ran out to the field.

James was yelling from his knees.

He was yelling at Edward.

"You fucking did that on purpose, you asshole!" His voice was quite high.

"I'm sorry. I did not. I threw the ball to Phil," Edward responded very politely.

Phil spoke up then. "Yeah, sorry about that. I missed."

Phil was fighting a smile.

Phil played baseball for a living.

He didn't miss.

"You fucking threw it straight at me when I wasn't looking!" James shrieked in another high pitched squeal.

"Man, watch the language… there are ladies present," Phil argued.

James gave up speaking, groaned, and keeled over onto the dirt.

Victoria turned to me. "Well, Bella, I…"

"It was good to talk," I said. I said it plainly with neither hatred nor affection. Just a simple statement.

Then, I ran over to Edward.

"What was that about?" I demanded under my breath.

Edward gave me an innocent expression.

"Edward!"

"Hmmmm…?" he murmured, his eyes twinkling. Then he ignored me and turned to Phil. "Hey, Phil do you have the stuff?"

"Yeah, I got it. You two go on ahead."

As Phil walked past us, his hand went low, and Edward fived him.

I gaped at the exchange. "You threw that ball at James on purpose, didn't you?" I whispered breathlessly as we walked away from the field.

Edward gave me a smug grin.

"How did you even know it was him…?" I trailed.

"It's sportsmanship-like behavior to exchange names," he explained immodestly.

"James is a common name," I countered.

"Your ole pal came up to say 'hi' to him before we started playing."

"So that's how you…"

"Actually, he was shitty towards her, so I wasn't completely convinced."

"Oh, really? I would have thought that'd be a solid indicator."

"Well, then he started ogling the two of you over on that bench like a fucking steak dinner—and I decided that either way he deserved it."

"And you got Phil involved, too?" I asked incredulously.

"What? You said I couldn't punch him—and Phil wanted to be 'fatherly' so…"

I gave Edward a half-assed punch in the arm.

He didn't flinch. He just smiled.

And I couldn't help it.

I smiled, too.

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