A/N: Hello, my lovelies. Happy Wednesday! Haha, I've missed you guys. And I've updated Destructive Desire, as you can see. This chapter has a strange change of pace, and a few new characters that aren't tremendously important, but I hope you'll enjoy it all. I promise, this story IS getting somewhere, lol. Also, I listened to "Boys" by Britney Spears A LOT while writing this chapter. "Blue Jeans" and "Delicious" both by Lana Del Rey have been a little inspiring, but I'm not giving the chapter three names. So, here goes! Enjoy. :)


Boys


I didn't make it to Jacksonville, or Phoenix, or even out of the state.

I ended up in Port Angeles.

The part I was in was so grimy, though. It was a nasty little slum. I saw a few things that I wouldn't have liked to see. It was a dark, gross little place. In a way, I belonged there.

As I drove past one of many bars, I saw six people enter it. Five guys, one girl. They couldn't have been much older than me. Those six people reminded me of who I could have been and what I could have had. No, I wouldn't have been hitting bars, but I wouldn't have been alone. In a strange way, I wanted to be part of their group. I wanted to be part of a group, period. I wanted friends again. I couldn't bring my best friends back into my life (or from the dead), but I could at least find new ones.

I had obviously lost my brain a long time ago. I was too impulsive now. Too daring. Too bad, though. I made a swift U-turn and started driving back to the bar.


I entered the bar as effortlessly as I could. The place was even somewhat busy, which was strange for a Sunday night. Must have been filled with regulars.

I seemed to have lost the six people I'd seen earlier. I hadn't really gotten a good look at their faces, anyway, though. Whatever. I'd just stick around and maybe meet someone. Someone new. Someone nice. Maybe.

I got a beer (thanks for the fake ID, Edward) and started playing pool. I wasn't that good at it, but I needed to look busy. To my far right, I saw a guy - maybe a little older than me, tall, dark blond hair, kind of skinny - playing darts.

Maybe he needs a partner, I thought. I set the pool stick down.

Without really thinking, I walked over to him. I stood against the wall nonchalantly and watched him play darts.

He stopped when he noticed I'd been staring at him. "Looking for someone?" he asked with a smirk.

"I don't know," I said. "Could be looking for Amy. Do you know just what she likes?"

"Ha. Britney Spears song," he declared.

"How'd you know?"

He shrugged. "My sister worships Brit. Still does. I'm a bit familiar with her lyrics."

"Bless your sister's heart. Bitch is dangerous." I smiled.

He ran a hand through his hair. "You're a fan, too?"

I shook my hand. "Rarely. I had a friend that loves Brit, though. Fan by association."

He nodded. "Small world, huh?"

"Very. And what's your name?" I asked.

"My parents named me Arthur. They call me Art on the streets."

"The streets?" I asked. "What about under the sheets?"

He smiled devilishly. "You'll have to find out for yourself."

I nodded. "I'll put that on my to-do list," I promised.

Funny how we were inching toward some of the least pure things, yet this still seemed somewhat innocent. Well, for me, anyway.

"You know, doll," Art said, "you look a little familiar to me."

"How?"

"I don't know. Like a friend of a friend or something."

"Well."

Art stared at me for a while (and I was a bit lost in his gray eyes), and then his face seemed amazed when he finally spoke again. He picked up a dart. "Wow," he muttered.

"What?" I asked.

"Aren't you Cullen's girl?" he asked as he threw the dart at the board. He got so close to a bulls-eye.

"I can be whoever you want me to be, babe," I said, half-smiling.

Art chuckled. "Ha. Bella, right?"

I nodded. "That's what they call me on the streets."

"And what about under the sheets?" he asked, obviously interested.

"Anything as long as the job gets done."

He chuckled again. "Wow. I wonder what he'd think. Ed and I used to run a while back."

"Oh," I said, crossing my arms. "Really?"

Art didn't look at me. He just picked up another dart and aimed. "Yeah," he said. Then he threw the dart to the board. Perfect bulls-eye. "We had some times, man."

"Who's 'we'?" I asked him.

He shrugged and picked up another dart. "Me, Lila, Miguel, Lumen, Travis, Bryan, Chris... all of them. In fact, everyone but Lila came here tonight. Typical. Edward used to fit right in, though."

"Did he?" I wasn't trying to come off as bitter. It wasn't working.

"Yeah, he was cool," Art replied. He threw the dart and then turned to me, putting his hands on the table that separated us. He leaned closer to me.

"I mean," he said, "besides a few things, he was cool."

I raised an eyebrow. "What'd he do?" I asked.

"Fucked around with Lila. I didn't care too much, but then he started seeing you a little bit after. Lila hates that, and she takes it out on the rest of that when she's mad."

"When was Edward with Lila?" I asked. "Before March of last year?"

Art shook his head. "Nah, just after he moved back up here. They broke up way back in April, almost May. Damn. Nearly a year ago. Anyway, I head he was seeing you then."

"Wow, that's funny," I said. "He actually was with me last year, at that same time."

Art gave a low whistle. "Two-timed, huh?"

I nodded. "Probably not the first time, either. Edward doesn't know how to keep it in his pants."

And the funny thing was with Edward, he must have been with Lila since the moment he'd moved back to the moment I'd told him I was pregnant. Smooth. He'd even went with me to that party the same week he came back. It was like it had all been carefully planned.

"Why did he break up with Lila?" I asked Art.

He shrugged. "You tell me. He told me it was because there was some shit going on with you, and that was the last time I talked to him."

My pregnancy. Of course. But why would Edward have broken up with Lila over that? He sure as hell hadn't supported me when I'd first told him.

"What, was Lila a psycho or something?" I asked Art.

"A little bit," he replied bluntly. "She's clingy, and huge bitch. Can't see why I was fucking with her in the first place."

"Do you miss her?" I asked. "I mean, I know you still hang out, but do you?"

"Nah. Good riddance. Are you missing Edward?"

"Nah." My half-smile returned. "I have an idea of how we can get them back, though."

He smiled back at me. He knew exactly what I was thinking about. "And what would that be, baby?" he asked.

I moved from behind the table to be closer to Art. With a hand on the zipper of his jeans, I stood on the tips of my toes. "Meet me in the bathroom if you wanna play," I whispered in his ear.


It was safe to say that ninja sex was an interesting concept. Ninja sex in the beaten bathroom of a bar was even more interesting.

I hadn't exactly planned on fucking Art after knowing him for under fifteen minutes, but shit happened. We were lonely and bored. Ninja sex was the way to go. Everyone has wants and needs, after all. Losers like us weren't exceptions just because it was harder for us to fulfill those wants and needs. Losers lust for things, too. We were allowed to. And I only wanted Art's body right now. Wish fulfilled, case closed. I had Art around my finger. He didn't seem to have a problem with being my rebound guy.

And above all, the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else, right? Right.

Art's hands trailed along my thighs as I kissed his neck, panting hard. "You're good at this," I whispered.

"I'd have to say the same," he muttered.

"I've been with a fast crowd since I was sixteen," I replied. "What can you say? I learned a lot of tricks."

He chuckled softly and kissed me.


Art was buttoning his jeans when he left the bathroom, after me. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Of course.

We left the bar together and sat in his car for a while. Turned out, he had pot on him, and I was more than willing to take a hit. Or three.

One thing lead to another, and we didn't have to be ninjas this time. Nobody was around.

With beer, weed, and Art in my system, I was fine. Better than fine. I was euphoric. I was on fire. I was the best damn catalyst of a girl that ever walked the earth, and I would own it. Who was Edward again?

Art and I had been in his car for a while with the windows up when he asked me, "You have a type, don't you?" He took a drag of his joint.

I blew a ring. "Nah," I said. "Good boys, bad boys, green eyes, brown eyes, younger guys, a teacher. Boys are just boys. They all have dicks, anyway. I'm not picky."

"A little boy-crazy, aren't you?" he asked.

"No," I told him. "I just know what they want and how to give it to them. They all want the same thing. ...Well, at least the straight ones do. It's not difficult."

"You proved that, alright. You're bold."

I smiled. "Now you should tell me something about yourself," I told him.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Do you have a type, Art?

He sighed. "I'd like to say that I don't," he began, "but I just can't seem to stay away from the bad girls. They're the only ones I come across."

So Lila wasn't that clean. Ugh, I shouldn't have been obsessing over her this much. I couldn't help it, though.

"Not all of us are bad," I said easily.

Art nodded. "Good girls are boring, though."

"You like your girls insane," I agreed. "Good girls rarely exist, anyway, and anyone that says they're good is lying. There are always two sides to a story."

"I guess you're right. You know, Bella, you're a cool chick."

"And you just now figured that out?" I asked teasingly.

Before he could say anything, I kissed him.

I didn't want a deep relationship with Art. I didn't want anything like that. If we would become anything more than fuck buddies, then I would leave. And that was just what I wanted to be: fuck buddies. Art's only purpose for being in my life was to be a rebound, and that was it. I didn't feel bad about it, either.

I suddenly heard a hard knock on the window.

I stopped kissing Art and looked up. A brown-haired, brown-eyed man that couldn't have been past his mid-twenties was laughing at us like he'd just seen the funniest thing ever. Maybe it was to hide the awkwardness.

Art rolled down the window and buckled his belt. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," he told the man (who also happened to have a piercing at his right eyebrow).

"No thanks," he said, "I just need a hit real quick. I'm all out."

"Wait a minute, then, Travis," Art said. As he pulled away from me, Travis smiled widely at me. It was a nice smile at first, but it quickly felt nasty to me. It wasn't like I couldn't be nasty, too, though. Nasty was my middle name.

Travis stuck his hand through the window. "Travis," he said.

I shook his hand. "Bella."

Travis looked surprisingly pleased. "Edward's bitch, huh?" he asked.

"I'm not anybody's bitch," I shot. "What, was I a hot topic when you guys were friends?"

"Not really," Travis replied thoughtfully. "Edward just called you his bitch half the time and 'Bella' the other half." He didn't look like he was kidding.

"What did he even say about me?" I asked curiously.

"Not a lot. He just showed us shit. No big deal."

Nope. Not a big deal at all. Everyone in the region of the state had seen my tits, anyway. If there was any shame left in me, then it was gone, like everything else.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I agreed.

"Can I get you a drink?" Travis gave me a sly smile.

"She's leaving with me," Art said.

"I know, man," Travis replied.

I gave Travis and apologetic smile. "I'd love a drink right now," I said, "but I am leaving with Art."

"Damn. Can't catch a break, can I?"

"Maybe tomorrow," I told him.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."


I spent the night with Art in his motel room. He was a bit jealous. Of course he was. Jealousy was a definite attribute to being a guy. No, scratch that. Being human required being jealous at some point.

After twenty minutes of sex and a cup of coffee the next morning, Art dropped me off to where my truck was so I could go. He kissed me really hard and held me really tight before I got in my truck.

"What are you doing today that's so important?" I asked him.

"Business," he replied. It wasn't the legal kind of business, of course. He was selling. I wasn't going to ask what, but whatever it was, you couldn't get it at a drug store.

"Chasing paper, aren't you?" I murmured, staring into his gray eyes.

"Chasing, rolling, all of that." He shrugged. "Gotta make a living somehow."

"Big dreams, huh?"

He half-smiled and nodded. "Larger than life."

"Fine," I said. "I'll see you tonight, then."

Art's hands slipped down to the back pocket of my jeans, and he slipped a small piece of paper there.

"You've got my heart, baby," he whispered. "Don't break it."


I found Travis at the bar later that day. He was playing pool, and he was pretty good at it. Interested in it, too. He didn't notice me sneaking up on him.

"It sucks how I don't know how to play that well," I said. "I always wanted to learn."

He turned around and smiled when he saw me. "Hey," he said, nodding his head a little bit.

I smiled genuinely. "Hi."

"Did you ditch Art or something?"

I shrugged. "Kind of the other was around. 'Business' was his excuse."

Travis set his pool stick down. "That's everyone's excuse. Wouldn't be surprised if he was fucking Lumen right now."

Well, great. More people in the mix. "Who's Lumen?" I asked, though the name sounded familiar.

"Art's new girl, besides you."

"I'm not his girl," I said curtly.

Travis raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you?"

"We fucked a couple of times but that's it," I said. And the sad thing was, I was into Art. I was really into him. I still was.

"Oh," Travis said. "Well, yeah, we've known Lumen for a while now. Art just started going out with her."

"Wait," I faltered. "So if I'm correct, Art was first dating Lila, then Edward dated Lila around the same time he dated me, and then Edward broke up with Lila and got with me again. Later, Art got with Lumen, but now he's with me?"

"I thought you said you weren't with Art."

"Well, I am," I admitted. "But am I right?"

"Almost. Lumen and I used to fuck around."

"Seriously?"

Travis nodded.

"You guys are sharing girls," I said. "You're sick."

"You're in the equation, too, though."

"Unfortunately," I sighed.

"And you've been shared," he added.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't rub it in."

We were silent for a while, and Travis stared at me as I stared at the ground.

"Sorry," he finally said, "but it's true."

"Of course it is," I replied.

I stared at his body for a while. His face was sort of attractive. Handsome, even. If he didn't have an eyebrow piercing, he would have looked a little innocent.

Travis' body was all man, though. Broad shoulders, at least six foot three, nice arms. He was a little on the skinny side, but not as skinny as Art, though I didn't mind. Travis looked pretty good for a stoner. He hadn't been hit too hard yet. He reminded me of some of the boys I'd hung out with in Phoenix: older stoners with good looks. Totally fuck-worthy. Looked more fuck-worthy by the second. As if anybody wasn't worthy enough to fuck me, anyway.

Travis smirked. "You want a joint?"

I smiled. "Yes, please."


We went back to his apartment and had a few joints, more than enough beer, and several talks.

Travis and I had a lot in common. We clicked with each other. Parents that didn't understand, dead friends, no lives. Too many siblings, nonexistent siblings. Bad exes, good exes, bad sex, good sex.

Travis called me beautiful and caressed me as we sat on his mattress and told each other secrets and stories. I was about to tell him that I had a baby that needed me back with my ex-boyfriend, but Travis put his lips to mine, silencing me.

It didn't feel like a first kiss. Didn't even come close. The feeling was there, though. It was. That kiss was special. So special I could have cried. The most special kiss with a complete stranger that I could have had.

Then I let him kiss me again. I let him kiss me from my lips to my throat and everywhere else. I let him whisper "honey" in my ear, and I chose not to think of who I'd let call me "honey" before. I let Travis do what he wanted, and for the moment, it wasn't like it was that he'd wanted me to have. It felt like… security. Well-being. And he was right. Even as I had not an ounce of shame left in my body, I did still care. I did. I wanted to be cared for. I wanted to have the feeling of being truly cared for, even if it was just for a little while. And Travis gave it to me.

He never told me he loved me, though. Not even once. It hurt a bit, but I knew that he really didn't love me. Who could love a complete stranger?

This did hurt a bit, however. He didn't love me—he couldn't have loved me, either—but the truth hurt. Being lied to was better than experiencing the truth. I supposed Travis could have lied and told me he loved me. Or did he think I would be able to handle it?

Travis smothered me on that mattress with beer and weed scented kisses. I stared up at his unmoving ceiling fan, contemplating how much he really did like me. He must have liked me a lot to be doing this, but what did I know?

I eventually ended up getting so distracted that I couldn't think about this anymore. So I gave in. I'd been wondering how he was in bed, anyway. I found out. Best casual sex of my life.


I must have been born an owl or something. I came out in the night, relaxed during the day. It was like with Jacob and Edward what seemed like ages ago; it was like I led two different lives. And I was doing it again.

I spent the next few days and nights with Travis and Art, Travis during the day and Art at night. On Thursday night, I even met Lila. No wonder why no one liked her; she was a bitch. At least Lumen wasn't as bad.

Friday night, though, was different. Not in a good way, either. I'd thought I could trust Art and Travis. I guessed not.

That Friday night, I went to hang out with Art and Travis at Art's motel room. Just a little fun. A drink, a blunt, whatever. What they did to me wasn't what I had in mind, though. I should have known this was bad to begin with.

Threesomes aren't fun when one person doesn't want any of that and the others don't stop to listen. It's also not fun when that same person gets robbed in the end. I was out by two hundred dollars, my only money left. I'd gone to pee afterward, and when I came back, my items were strewn all over the place and Travis and Art were gone. The fuckers had up and left.

I'd even retrieved all my things. They were all there. Every last bit of it. However, when I checked my wallet, it was empty. As bare as can be. Well, minus my real ID, my fake one, and my driver's license, it was bare. Wow, I thought, aren't those bastards considerate?

It was like they had taken everything without taking a thing. Except two hundred dollars.

Crazy how they left so quickly, though. If I wasn't so pissed, I would have congratulated them for being so clever. Hi, thanks for being cunning, where can I learn your tricks?

But I was pissed, so this wouldn't be relevant now.

I drove in my truck for at least an hour. I checked just about every bar in the town. Travis and Art were definitely gone.

And so were my hopes for anything. Gas, too. I was able to make it back to Art's old motel's parking lot before running out of gas completely. I was a lucky bitch, alright.

I was two seconds from walking down the road and sticking out my thumb, when I realized that who needs to hitchhike when you have an ex-boyfriend who's good with mechanics?


A/N: Aaaaaand, you'll have to wait until next week for an update! Haha, I know it's annoying. Well, for me and someone else, anyway. And that was "Boys." Thanks for reading. Thoughts?

Be nice, eat cake, listen to music, whatever,

MusicTwilightLove. xo