AN: August 9th prompt, part two of Dreamt of You. Reread the last few paragraphs of the previous part because I made some changes. More details on the kiss at least. :D

Enjoy! SORRY! I forgot to post the changes to the previous chapter, did now. :D


Penname: ericastwilight

Original or Derivative (fanfiction): fanfiction

Rating/Warning(s)/Note(s): M for language and situations. Unbeta'd & this is part II of Dreamt of You.

Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

Prompt: Stutter


Edward cursed under his breath as his bag accidently bumped into James Whittier, the school's top freaking Spartan. Most thought he'd be on TV eventually, signing autographs and playing professional football.

Not Edward though. He knew James had a mean streak, one that would one day destroy his future endeavors. He took great pleasure in knowing that one day James would piss off the wrong person and get his ass beat for it. Maybe ending hid career.

Edward had no doubt in his mind why James picked on him so much. James had made it clear to every guy in the school that Bella was off limits. And Bella always smiled at Edward and defended him when she thought he wasn't listening.

However, until recently, James's jealousy was unjustified. Bella and Edward had hardly talked to each other. Now things were different. So when Edward caught sight of James as he exited the bathroom, he knew he was in trouble.

"Fucking watch where you're going Nerdward," James spat, wiping his shoulder as if Edward had nerd cooties or something. Edward snickered at the thought.

"J-James," Edward stuttered, looking down at his feet. "Sorry."

James took a step forward, causing Edward to stumble back some lockers. "I heard you and Bella were in a locked, dark classroom."

Edward winced, hearing the undercurrent of anger in James's voice. "Som—t-thing like t-that."

"Now what would the school's hottest girl want with some like you, huh?" James thrust his claw like finger against Edward's chest. It hurt like a bitch, what was James doing with fingernails that long—masquerading as drag queen at night.

"Tell me is her pussy as tight as the rest of her," James sneered lavishly, licking his bottom lip.

Edward felt a lick of anger course through him, a need to protect her from James's foul, disgusting mouth. "N-none of your b-bus-isness."

"I-it is my b-bus-isness," James stuttered mockingly, putting his hands on Edward, this time pushing him harshly against the locker. Edward winced when he felt a lock jab him in the back. "She doesn't want you for your looks or brain. She wants you for your money."

Edward shook his head. He was lying, he was sure of it. Bella wasn't that kind of girl.

"Do you really thing she'd fuck someone like you if she didn't want something out of it?"

Edward looked away from James, the cocky smirk he wore was menacing. "You've seen the piece of shit she drives. She's probably going to offer you a blow job for a ride to Seattle or some shit."

Edward's world came crumbling down. Bella had asked if they could go in his car because she was afraid her truck wouldn't make to Seattle and back. She was using him.

Edward barely heard James laughing. He didn't care. He shoved at James and started to walk toward the parking lot. He only wanted to go home.

"Fucking hell," James said almost gleefully. "You really thought she liked you. She's always complaining about how much she hates that truck. How could you be so fucking clueless, Fuckterd?"

Edward stilled and looked James in the eye. James didn't know Bella at all; he never really listened to anything she said. James was a liar.

Bella loved her truck, told Edward just the other night how important it was to her.

Edward squared his shoulders and held up his chin. He wasn't about to tell someone like James about what happened in the locked classroom, but he wasn't about to walk away without having his say.

"Bella wouldn't lie to me, but you James would lie to get what you want. She loves her truck, so she wouldn't be using me to get her a new car or a ride."

Edward was amazed at his ability to talk without stuttering. It was something he always did when the assholes came to pick on him. "Bella's smart, intelligent enough to know that guys like you are a waste of fucking time."

"Edward!" Bella cried out as she ran across the parking lot as his father led him to the Mercedes.

"Beulfa." The cotton stuck up his nose butchered his muffled murmur of her name. He was embarrassed tremendously but was relieved to see her.

Her eyes took in his disheveled state and the dried blood on his face. "Are you alright?" Edward only nodded, looking away and blushing.

"Can I do anything to help?" she asked sweetly. Edward shook his head. He wanted to get out of there before the other students saw him.

"Oh," Bella said, sounding disappointed.

Edward's father nudged his shoulder. He leaned down to whisper to his ignorant son. "I think she's looking for an invitation to the house. Didn't you have plans later tonight?"

Edward nodded minutely, stepping toward Bella. His father decided that the trunk of his car needed to be examined.

"Um, Bella," Edward said softly, meeting her pretty brown eyes. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to take you to Seattle tonight."

Bella's timid smile fell completely, her eyes seeking refuge at her feet.

"That's not to say I don't want to see you though," Edward said hurriedly. Bella's eyes snapped to his, the corners of her mouth twitching. "We can watch the meteor shower from my place."

A beautiful smile flirted on Bella's lips. "I'd like that," she said while keeping her eyes on his.

"Are you sure it would be alright with your dad?"

"I'm sure it will be," she said coyly. "It starts pretty late though, and I'd have to sleep over. Is it alright with yours?"

Carlisle, Edward's father, closed the trunk and answered for Edward. "I'll call your father to ask him and let him know you'll be staying the night."He noticed that both his son's and Bella's smiles were so big that he knew exactly what they were thinking. "In the guest room."


AN: I hope I get a prompt that will allow me to write more of these two. Yes, he stood up for her, but he got his scrawny ass beat. But its the thought that counts. Maybe we'll see James get his, maybe not.