AN: Hi.

Teenage girls are the worst with all those hormones, but teenage boy are just rotten. Ahh . . . The memories!

Chapter 3

It didn't turn out quite like I imagined.

"Have a nice shower, kiddo?" my dad asked. He stood over a large stewpot stirring it with a large spoon.

I was already in my pajamas and my hair hidden in a towel turban.

"Yeah it was good," I lied. It was rotten.

Rummaging in a drawer, Dad pulled out a spoon. "Come over and try this sauce. I added some more oregano than usual."

Slowly, I wandered over as my dad blew on the tomato sauce to cool it. I put the spoon in my mouth filling it with the lightly spicy liquid.

"Really good, Daddy. That class is teaching you some great things. "

My dad had been laid off six months ago and was still trying to find a job. He used to be an accountant, but now he says the idea of punching in numbers was depressing. I thought my mother was going to flip when he told her that this was the opportunity to find himself. Right now it was cooking school. He had restaurant owning dreams. Mom was questioning his sanity.

"This was a much better idea than the one you had about being a cop," I pointed out, as I snagged another mouthful. Dad halfheartedly smacked my hand. "It's safer for everybody. Mom is a terrible cook."

He snickered. "That's the truth. I don't know about the police job not being a good idea. I think I have the perfect mustache for it."

Now that made me laugh. My dad's mustache was another result of his loss of a job. It made me think of a caterpillar that decided to make a house on his upper lip.

This was my favorite part of day. It was relaxing just sitting with my dad and talking about our day. He was almost always nonjudgemental about what I was feeling. Dad made me feel older somehow. Maybe it was just that he respected my choices.

Our time ended with a slam of the front door.

"Hi! Sorry! Phil kept us late for a meeting and then I had to grab Bree from gymnastics," my mom explained as she rushed in. She gave my dad a quick kiss and grimaced. "Could you please cut that off, Charles?"

"I think it's dashing!" My dad explained. He looked over to my little sister who was shuffling her feet as she came into the kitchen. "Why so glum, monkey?"

"I didn't get picked for the competition squad! I need to work on my flips," she complained bitterly. She sniffed the air. "Spaghetti again? I hate that stuff!"

Bree was a brat. I tried to remember if I was like that when I was ten. I seriously doubted I could ever be that annoying. The only way Bree knew how to talk was whine.

"That's why we're having it," I said to my sister. "It's all a part of our evil plan to make you miserable."

"You're such a jerk, Bella!" Bree yelled.

"Girls!" Mom yelled back.

.

Dad just shook his head us. "Simmer down, gang. Bree you can have a peanut butter sandwich."

It was all part of Bree's plan. That's all she would ever eat.

"Bella, sweetie, you're already in your pajamas. Are you feeling okay?" My mom rushed over and put her hand on my forehead. "You don't feel warm."

I was hoping she would pull away, but instead she moved closer to my face. "What's this?"

Her finger touched my forehead. There was a piece of hair that had escaped. She pulled off the towel and looked at my head in shock.

"Mom—"

The pharmacy was out of Strawberry Daiquiri and I bought Cherry Crush instead. It was a little intense.

"What did you do?" Mom yelled loudly.

Bree smirked at the kitchen table. "You are in so much trouble."

My dad chuckled. "Well . . . That looks fun."

"Charles, this is not funny!"

"It's kind of funny, Renee."

My parents were so completely different. Dad was so relaxed and Mom with her ponytail tied back so tightly was always on edge. Maybe I hated this new hair color, but I would never admit it to her.

"I don't know what the big deal is, Mom. I like it," I lied. She would have to lock me in my room forever to get me to admit how much I really didn't like it.

"It's horrible, Isabella Marie! Your beautiful hair is ruined!" My mother threw up her hands in the air in exasperation.

She would never, ever understand me.

My dad came over and put his hand on my shoulder. "Renee, she's a teenager. You know what's it like. You need to remember."

"Isabella, go to your room. I'll let you know your punishment later," Mom stated. She pointed to the door.

My dad held my shoulder tighter. "Come on, Renee. Give her a break. Dealing with Ronald McDonald hair tomorrow at school is enough punishment."

"Dad!" I thought he would at least pretend it didn't look horrible.

"Upstairs, Bella!" My mother wasn't budging.

"This is so unfair!" I yelled at her. "Why are you so mean!"

Bree continued to laugh at the kitchen counter as she spooned peanut butter on a piece of bread.

"You'll never understand me, Mom!" I screamed and ran toward the stairs.

I heard my dad say, "Damn it, Renee! You were sixteen once! I remember you doing worse. Bella, wait!"

My dad caught up with me at the end of the stairs. "Sweetie, I'll talk to her. I'll bring you up some dinner."

I hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Daddy!"

"Chin up, kiddo. It will work out."

Back in my room and weeping on my bed, I doubted things would work out. At the time I bought the dye, I had decided it was because this might be a way to find out who I really was. I didn't listen to Ace of Base like Jess. My favorite songs were by Nirvana and Pearl Jam. My hair was showed who I really was.

That was stupid. I did it, because Edward Cullen liked redheads.

This just made me cry even more. My hair made me look like a clown. I was certain Edward wasn't interested in a girlfriend that looked like Bozo.

I looked at the posters of Dean Cain dressed up like Superman and Jason Priestly on my wall. They wouldn't make me be a redhead. I hugged my raggedy bear, Mr. Beans hard against my chest.

There was a knock on my bedroom door and I whimpered, "Daddy?"

"It's Mommy, Bella." My mom opened the door and carried in a tray filled with dinner. "You hungry?"

"No." I buried my head in my pillow.

I heard the tray being placed on my desk. Mom sat down next to me on the bed. I felt her fingers in my hair. "I'm sorry, baby. It was a shock. It isn't so bad."

Her apology just made me cry harder.

"He's going to hate it!" I wailed.

There it was. The truth.

"A boy. I should have known." She turned my tear stained faced toward her. "His name was Harold Ingram."

"What?" I sniffed.

"Your dad reminded me that when I was your age, I bleached my hair for Harry. He always dated girls with such beautiful blond hair. It was before your dad and I started dating. We were just friends then. Harry was so cool. He wore this amazing leather jacket and he was just so handsome." My mom's eyes glazed over at the memory. A tiny smile played upon her face.

"Harold? You dyed your hair for a guy named Harold?" I asked in surprise. I was picturing a boy with thick black glasses and acne.

My mom laughed a little. "I know his name is terrible, but Harry was really handsome. My hair after the bleaching was not. My eyebrows definitely didn't match my new hair."

I looked at my mother's dark eyebrows and couldn't help smiling. "What happened?"

"He ignored me like usual. I learned a lesson that day, Bella. Never change yourself for a boy," she stated and stroked my face.

"Are you still mad, Mommy?"

"You never call me mommy anymore." She smiled a little and looked at me like she was seeing the real me. At least for right now, I knew it wouldn't last. Adults always forget how hard it is to be my age. "No, baby. You just brought back some painful memories from when I was sixteen. Your dad talked some sense into me."

"Daddy's so smart."

"He has his moments." Mom didn't exactly agree, but close enough. "You know if you wash your hair a couple of times after dying, you can tone it down a bit."

"Really, Mom?"

She kissed my forehead. "It doesn't hurt to try."

Sometimes all you need was your mom to make it all okay.

XXXXXX

"I still don't understand why you did that to your hair! And that outfit is social suicide, Bell! Overalls! You look like a farmer!" Jessica was like a broken record today. She hadn't stopped making me feel miserable about my new look all day. We stood at our lockers to gather our lunches before heading to the cafeteria. I was dreading lunchtime.

I looked at a strand of my hair. It wasn't as intense after several washings. It had been growing on me, until Jess started pointing out how gross I looked. "I'm trying something new."

"New? That shirt certainly isn't! Did you dig that out of the back of your dad's closet." She poked at one of the sleeves of the flannel shirt I wore over my overalls and tee-shirt with her finger.

It was one of my dad's flannels that he hadn't worn in a few months, because Mom had been pushing him into more professional attire to wear around the house to get him motivated to find a new job. In response, Dad decided to wear undershirts only. It would have been funny if it didn't lead to so much fighting.

The shirt was so soft and smelled like the Old Spice my dad liked wearing. I found myself sniffing it throughout the day. It was a comforting smell when trying to ignore all the looks I had gotten since I arrived at school.

"Mike will never go out with you looking like this!" She hissed at me.

Her locker was filled with pictures of the two of us together and others of all of us in a group in polo shirts and khaki shorts. There was one picture of me wearing a sundress and standing next to Mike. That girl was smiling so bright that she looked like her mouth was going to hurt from the action. She fit with Mike in his Letterman jacket with his floppy, blond hair falling over his eyes. I glanced at my reflection in the small mirror on the door with my wild, red hair and overalls. I didn't fit in those images anymore.

"I don't want to date Mike. He's nice and all, but—"

She stomped her foot. "Tyler wants to do a double date!"

"Jess, this is all about you going out with Tyler?" I felt like I didn't know this girl anymore.

"No . . . Maybe a little." Jess looked guilty for a moment, then she grabbed my face to look in my eyes. "Are you on drugs?"

I pulled away. "Of course not!"

"I didn't think so. Your eyes aren't bloodshot." Her nose wrinkled as she slammed the door of her locker closed. Jess frowned at me and added, "Your mom will kill you if you get a nose ring."

"She didn't kill me for the hair." I gave a half-hearted chuckle that made Jess's frown deepen even more.

If I hit her on the back, I wondered if her face would freeze that way. It would serve her right.

"Oh my God, Swan has clown hair!" Tyler shouted as he threw an arm around Jess's shoulder. I guess they were on again and I should get a job at Ringling Brothers Circus.

Jess faltered a second and it seemed that she was debating to laugh at Tyler's words or support me. She went with a combination of both. Her laughter was forced, as she hit him in the waist. "Oh stop, Ty!"

"Don't sit next to me, Krusty," he stated. His words were mean. Tyler wasn't joking.

"Like the clown on The Simpsons!" Jessica exclaimed, smiling up at Tyler. "You're so smart!"

It amazed me how girls can act so dumb around boys. He was being mean to me and she just acted like Tyler was amazing. Of course, I just dyed my hair electric red for a guy. I really had no room to judge, except for the fact that her guy was so mean and I was about to cry. Jessica should be defending my hair no matter how much she hated it.

"I think its cool," Mike said. I hadn't noticed him standing near Tyler. He was a quiet guy, always standing on the periphery. "You look like you should be on MTV. Like on a video."

"Thanks, Mike," I said quietly and looked at my sneakers.

Tyler yawned. "It looks shitty. Are we going to lunch or what?"

He started to pull Jessica away and she looked back at me. "You coming?"

"No. I have other plans." I stood in the hallway, as they started to walk away. Jess glanced back at me and looked conflicted for a second, but she faced forward as Tyler put his arm around her waist.

I felt so very alone.

"Why did you do that?" A voice asked behind me. I turned to find Jasper Whitlock looking at me in confusion.

"Do what?" I found Jasper infuriating.

I knew him since pre-school. He still had the same crazy, yellow curls that framed his face in a puff ball, and his mom still dressed him in oxford button downs and khaki pants. Jasper had never stopped judging every single thing I did. You would think he would outgrow it from the days when we were four and he would critique the way I wrote my name.

"You dyed your hair. Your parents let you?"

"No, I do what I want," I answered trying to look tough. I wasn't tough. I was that meek little mouse trying to puff herself up against the Cowardly Lion.

Jasper went into his brown paper lunch bag and pulled out a package of raisins. "We have college interviews coming up. You will never get into Harvard. Your life is ruined. Want one?"

He pushed the raisin box in my face. I pushed it away. "No."

In the corner of my eye, I saw Edward walk past and stare at us. He looked and I looked back. He didn't even sneer at my hair. We just gazed. I was falling.

"Jesus, Bella, you did that for a guy?" Jasper looked sick at the idea. "You ruined your future for some stoner?"

"Shut up, Jasper!"

Before I could punch him, Alice and Jacob flanked me from either side. My arms linked with theirs.

Alice winked at Jasper. "Hey stud muffin, you want a date?"

"No!" Jasper scoffed, but there was a small blush on his face. "I need to study!"

He scampered off to the library. That's where he always ate. His mother made him study for his SAT's during his free time. Moments like these made me feel sorry for him, but he always had to open his mouth to ruin it.

"Have I mentioned how awesome your hair is, La Bella?" Jacob asked. "If I hadn't, I must say it is scorching hot."

"My Isabella is a beautiful flower among the weeds of Forks High!" Alice sang in her high pitched opera voice. "Off to lunch we go."

"I was going to eat—" Well I had no clue where I would eat my lunch. I would probably end up sitting in the library with Jasper.

Jacob placed his head on my shoulder. "With us."

"I have lollipops." Alice placed her head on my other shoulder. "It's Thursday, the day of the pop. Wednesdays are for candy necklaces."

XXXXXX

Lollipops were an understatement.

Alice had dumped that giant purse of hers onto the cafeteria table. Every inch in front of her was covered with candy.

"I think you might be an addict, Alice. A candy addict," I said with a sigh and grabbed up a package of Skittles.

"I'm an addict of many things, darling, but this is the best one." She popped a piece of chocolate in her mouth. "Sugar is the most important food group of the day."

Jacob threw an empty milk carton at her head causing her to snort. His hair was in pigtails and I had to force myself not to run my fingers through the thick, black waves. It was beautiful.

We were sitting near the windows. Staring out of the glass, I had decided that having views of the outdoors was a horrible tease. Eating outside today would be wonderful. The air was warm and there was a slight breeze. It was just stuffy inside these bland cafeteria walls.

"Pass me a cherry lollipop, Al," Tanya Denali demanded. She was sitting across from me with her friends whose names were still a mystery to me. They were almost twins with their hair like sunshine and dressed in oversized band tee-shirts that were cut shorter in ragged edges. She looked at me asked, "You new here?"

"Isabella, has been—" Alice began, but Tanya held her hand up.

"I wasn't talking to you, Al," she said, still staring at me.

This girl made me nervous. She was this pretty senior who wrote music reviews for the school paper. She was cool. "I've been around. Alice and Jacob invited me to sit with them."

"Awesome," she stated with a nod. "Kate and Irina, this is our new lunch friend. Isabella, right?"

I nodded and the two girls glanced from the issue of Sassy magazine they were reading to wave. They immediately resumed reading about Eddie Vedder.

A huge part of me would agree that the lead singer of Pearl Jam would be way more interesting than some weird girl that appeared out of nowhere to eat with them.

Edward was sitting with his friend a couple of seats down. They were shoveling in school pizza and arguing about something that I couldn't determine due to the mumbling. Then they would let go of their food and pretend to strum guitars.

He hadn't glanced in my direction once.

"Jamie, you going to Emmett's tomorrow night?" Tanya asked.

"Yeah, I'm scoring some brews," Edward's friend said, his mouth still full of food. Pieces of pizza flew out of it and landed all around him. He looked embarrassed and covered his mouth with a napkin. "Sorry. You coming, Ed?"

Edward just shrugged noncommittally and started chewing on his straw. Watching his mouth was like the most delicious torture.

Glancing across the cafeteria, I saw Jessica staring at me from my old table in the middle of the room. She looked a little confused and a whole lot of hurt.

Seeing the look in her eyes made me feel awful. Instead if facing my decision head on, I decided to flee.

"Alice, I forgot a book in my locker. I'll see you in art class," I told her, as I gathered up what was left of my lunch.

"Cool, girl." She had Jacob's nails in her hands and was staring at his nails. "Dude, where did you find this color? It's the bomb!"

I waved at the table and rushed out of the room. Maybe I should have taken this whole change thing more slowly?

My head was spinning trying to find new ways to make things right with Jessica. I didn't want to lose a friend over this. At my locker, I banged my head on the metal.

"Hey." I turned slowly to find Edward staring at me. His hands were shoved into his pockets.

"Oh hi!" My voice was Minnie Mouse high again like I sucked on the end of a helium balloon.

He just stood there. I didn't know how long I had to wait to say anything else to him. Should I ask him the weather? That would be pretty lame.

"So—" I started to say.

"I want—" he said at the same time.

"You first," I offered, because he made me tongue tied and I had no clue what to say that wouldn't make me stammer uncontrollably.

Edward glanced down at his combat boots and I found myself looking at them too. More silence.

Finally, he said as his face rose. "You shouldn't. . . You know. . . Sit with me."

"I'm not. I'm sitting with Alice," I said looking at him.

"Oh. . . Yeah. . . Well . . . I'm a not your type . . . of—" He ran his hands through his hair. "You're everywhere, you know that?"

"I go to school here, so I kinda have to be on the grounds."

"Right. Yeah." He moved closer to me, so my back was pressing against my locker and his chest was almost pressing into me. "Why are you always biting your lip?"

I hadn't noticed I had been doing it, but I certainly noticed how he took his finger to pull my lip away from my teeth.

"You always bite a pencil. I guess we both have an oral fixation," I said. I didn't think it was possible for him to press any closer, but he managed it.

"We do?" he asked. There was this little smile on his face and it was the sweetest thing. "Good thing to know."

He was going to kiss me. My first kiss was going to be in the hallway at school. That was not at all romantic, but I still wanted it. My heart was thumping so hard I thought it was going to explode from my body.

"Do you have the assignment—"

His finger was placed up against my mouth and he leaned his head against mine. "Shh."

I was going to faint on the floor before he could even get close to kissing me.

All of a sudden, he moved away and hit my locker. "See you around."

Edward Cullen was the most confusing boy ever born.

I watched him move toward the stairs, as Alice came behind me and wrapped her arms around my neck. "What the hell was that with, Cullen?"

"You saw that?"

"Of course, I did. I was spying!" She hugged me tighter. "He looked like he was going to kiss you!"

"Maybe? At first he was all like stay away, which made no sense, and then we started talking about oral fixation, because I—"

Alice howled with laughter.

"What?"

Alice moved to the front of me and put her hands on my shoulders. "Little Isabella, let Mama Alice explain the birds and the bees to you. When a boy thinks a girl is swell, he'll stick his male anatomy in her mo—"

I planted my hand over her mouth and squealed, "I knew that already!"

Sort of.

I was accidentally talking to Edward Cullen about blow jobs.

Welcome to high school. My own personal heaven and hell.