Algebra

"Get out your pens," Mrs. Hurt said. "Pop quiz!"

Whoever named Mrs. Hurt must have known she was the type of person to schedule an Algebra quiz at 8 am on a Monday morning.

"What's a pop quiz?" Edward, who'd been assigned to sit in the back row with Rose asked.

Rose chuckled. "You'll see."

Mrs. Hurt passed out a stack of bright yellow sheets of paper. Bella was the only one who didn't groan when she flipped hers over. Thanks to Edward, she'd spent the last week distracting herself with homework.

"Make sure to put your name at the top along with the date and time." Mrs. Hurt said. "I can't give you A if I don't know your name."

Jessica Stanley erased her name. "Can't give me an F either."

"Rose, do you have a quill?" Edward asked.

Rose smirked and handed him a unicorn pen. "Here you go. May the odds be ever in your favor."

Edward stared at the pen with a puzzled expression on his face. "What about the ink? I'll need ink if I want to pass this test."

"Just write," Rose said with a roll of her eyes. "The ink is already inside the pen."

"But what if I run out? Do you have more?"

"You'll be fine. Just write."

Rose didn't even get through one question before Edward disturbed her again. "Hey Rose, what's today's date?"

"September 30."

"And the time?"

"Check the clock," Rose said.

"What's a clock?"

"That round thing at the front of the room. "Rose said, pointing to the clock. "That's a clock. It tells you what time it is so that you don't have to bother me."

Edward squinted at the clock. "Rose…"

"What are you, blind?" Rose snapped. "It says 8:11, time for Edward to stop bothering Rose."

Edward, being Edward, wasn't quite done digging his own grave. "What is this marking," he asked, tapping a subtraction sign.

"Edward," Rose said, smiling. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I think that's fair given how many I've asked you."

"Are you an idiot?"

"No!"

"Then how the HELL do you not know what a subtraction sign is!"

"Rosalie Hale go to the Principal's office!" Mrs. Hurt exclaimed.

"But he!" Rose protested.

"I don't care! Principal's office! Now!"

Rose gathered her things in a huff. Before leaving the room, she glared at Edward and made a slashing motion across her neck.

Bella looked at the clock and rubbed her temples.

If Mrs. Hurt's class was any indicator of how the rest of the day was going to go she'd need a lot more Advil.

Art

Bella handed Edward a spare notebook from her locker. "From now on, I want you to write down any questions you have and I'll answer them at the end of the day."

"I still don't understand clocks," Edward said. "How do they know what time it is? And pens. How can you go through an entire class without needing more ink?"

Bella pointed to the notebook. Edward either didn't notice or chose to ignore her. "And math. I've never seen anything like it? How can X mean 7?"

The bell rang signaling the start of the next class period. Bella didn't move a muscle. Their next class was art. Given it was Monday, Mr. Green would probably be too hungover to notice they were missing.

"And this paper," Edward said, flipping through the notebook. "Why is it so white? What are the lines;"

"Enough," Bella said, looking both ways for stragglers. "You can't ask questions like that out loud. People will realize you're...different."

"What's wrong with being different?" Edward asked.

if you asked Carlisle, nothing. But he'd never been a student at Forks High.

"Just trust me," Bella said. "It's much easier to be normal."

How many times had she been made fun of for being in foster care, tripping over her own feet, or enjoying the classics they were assigned in English class? Far more often than she'd ever admitted to Carlisle or the guidance counselor.

Okay," Edward said, nodding. "No more questions.

Edward wrote down clocks, pens, and math in swirly letters that would be at home on a wedding invitation. Math had been a disaster. Maybe Edward would fair better in art.

As expected, Mr. Green didn't comment when Bella and Edward strolled into class well after the bell. He was slumped over his desk with a silver strand of drool running down his chin. Half the students were missing and the other half were scattered around the room chatting or playing with their phones. The only one with art on the mind was Alice who was in the back corner of the room furiously scribbling in her sketchbook.

"What are you drawing?" Bella asked, putting her hands on Alice's shoulders.

Alice flinched and closed her sketchbook closed. "Nothing."

It didn't look like nothing to Bella. It looked like Edward at her father's house.

Before Bella could chastise Alice, there was a commotion at the front of the room.

"Can I have your attention, please," Edward said, clapping his hands. "My name is Edward Prince. It seems our teacher isn't feeling well at the moment. But no worries. I'd be more than happy to take over. I've studied under some of the best artists in the nation."

Bella shot Edward a look that could have melted steel. What happed to keeping a low profile?

Bella stormed up to the front of the room to confront Edward. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Teaching the class," Edward said with a shrug. "Someone has to do it."

"You can't teach a class!"

"Why not?"

Bella looked to the back of the room for support. Alice was hard at work on a new drawing with a blank expression on her face. She probably wouldn't even notice of the school marching band paid a visit.

"Because you're sixteen," Bella said. "You're not qualified."

"And he is?" Edward said, sneering at Mr. Green.

"Come on, Swan," Mike Newton shouted. "Let the man teach! Professor Prince! Professor Prince!"

Bella cringed. What was Mike doing there? He usually spent 2nd-period doing things she didn't want to think about with his flavor of the week.

Unfortunately, Mike's enthusiasm was contagious. It wasn't long until the entire class was rooting for Professor Prince.

"Well, Bella," Edward said. "It seems the people have spoken. Looks like I'm teaching class today."

"Fine," Bella said. "But don't come crying to me when this blows up in your face."

Bella sat down in the front row and waited for Edward to learn there was a reason why Forks High had a hard time conviving the teachers to return in August.

"Alright," Edward said, scanning the room. "Where did your last lesson leave off?"

Mike stroked his chin. "I believe we were studying the female form."

Liar. They'd spent the previous week drawing a bowl of half-rotten fruit. almost got into a fistfight with the janitor for trying to throw it away.

"Excellent," Edward said. "I've done portraits of the entire royal family. I'd be glad to share my technique."

Bella thought of the painting lining the walls at Fork's Castle. There were dozens of theories about who the artist may have been. All people could agree on was whoever he or she was, they were incredibly talented. There was no way those masterpieces could be attributed to a sixteen-year-old awestruck by pens.

"We'll need a model," Edward said, scanning the room. "How about you, Bella."

Bella glared at him. "Not a chance."

"Come on, Swan," Mike said. "You're a work of art."

"I agree," Edward said.

Edward was smiling but he didn't look happy. Did Bella detect a note of jealousy?

"Swan! Swan! Swan!" the class cheered.

Bella's cheeks turned crimson. She looked over at Mr. Green hoping he'd wake up and restore order. He grunted and pulled the hood of his jacket over his face.

Resigned to her fate, Bella joined Edward at the front of the room.

"Thank you, Bella," Edward said. "You won't regret this."

Somehow, Bella doubted that.