A/N: Howdy! So, it's been a month since I last posted anything. These past few weeks have been absolutely insane. Midterms and Migraines and Math, oh my! Also, there was a crazy health scare involved, in which I ended up in the hospital. I was in there thinking that I was for sure gonna die! With that said, I'm just going to write what I can, when I can. Cool? Also, I'm not sure why I haven't "heard" this Edward's "voice", but when I do, I'll share him with y'all.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. All creative credit goes to Stephenie Meyer for creating this little universe that I like to meddle in. ;D

Chapter 2: Crushworthy

BELLA

Six Months and Eleven Days Ago

As far back as I can remember, I have always had a crush on some guy. It usually lasted just long enough for me to spot some fatal flaw, and then the grand illusion would be shattered. And I would move on to the next crush.

Case in point: Eric Yorkie, first grade.

He was kind and sweet, funny too. I crushed on that boy so hard. There was major flirting, on my end at least. I even kissed his cheek at my birthday party. Then one day, near the end of third grade, I caught him picking his nose in class. Now that in and of itself was not a major snafu. However, when he flung a booger at James Hunter's head, that was when the disillusion began.

After Eric, I went through an Alfalfa from The Little Rascals phase. Those freckles. Those eyes. That hair. The Romance! Sigh. No other boy in my entire school could compare. I carried that torch for Alfalfa tirelessly for an entire school year, until Renee recorded over my VHS copy of the movie.

Next came Mike Newton, who became my Knight in Shining Armor when he saved me from busting my face on the sidewalk, first day of fifth grade. Swoon. I pined after him for a all of a week, until I witnessed Mike chasing after Jessica Stanley with his wet fingertip outstretched. When he finally caught her, that finger was jammed into her ear, making her squeal. No. Just no. So unsanitary. Blech.

For a while, I didn't find any boy at my school crush worthy, until I started watching reruns of The Wonder Years on tv. Kevin Arnold. Be still my beating heart! He was just the best, and the way that he treated his Winnie… I think I still have a crush to this day.

Then one day, in the middle of seventh grade, this new boy moved to town from Seattle. He was the sweetest, kindest, cutest, dorkiest guy I'd ever met. He sat next to me in history class, and his name was Benjamin Cheney. Ben wore these cool Buddy Holly style glasses that highlighted his soulful hazel eyes. And I was so smitten. Normally, I was very vocal about my crushes to my friends, but there was something about this one that felt special, so I said nothing. Not a word, not even to Angela Weber, my best friend.

I harbored this secret crush on Ben Cheney for over a year, never telling a soul. It was mildly pathetic, but I was shy, and this guy was so cute. More than that, he held open doors for girls, answered questions in class, and he read actual books, for fun!

If I held my cards close to vest, Angela had a championship winning poker face.

When the Sadie Hawkins dance rolled around near the end of eighth grade, I knew just who I planned to ask. I wore my favorite dress, splashed on some lip gloss, and combed my hair to perfection. After world history let out for the day, I made my way over to Ben as he was packing up his things, and asked him to be my date to the dance. I had considered that he might say no, but what I was not prepared for was the revelation that Angela Weber, my best friend since kindergarten, had already asked him.

Heart thoroughly crushed, I decided not to attend the dance. Instead, I stayed home in my sweat pants, and caught up on Gilmore Girls. The next morning Angela showed up at my house more pissed than I had ever seen, all her verbal venom directed at me. This led to the first and only fight Angela and I ever had. All over a boy. I accused her of intentionally trying to hurt me by asking Ben to the dance, and she accused me keeping secrets. There was yelling, and so much crying, but in the end, she confessed that they had been hanging out for the past months, and that she had feelings for him. Real feelings, of the love variety. So, I let it go, because real feelings trumps a crush any day.

High School was a whole new ball game. Everybody was dating this person, or hooking up with that person. I learned very quickly that if I liked a guy, I could no longer be the silent piner, waiting in the corner for the recognition that would never come. It was girls like Lauren Mallory and Jessica Stanley that got all the guys, because they were relentless flirts. So when Connor Phillips showed up on my radar sophomore year, I did all the "right things". I showed interest by giggling at his lame, pun-y dad jokes, finding reasons to touch his muscular tennis biceps, and flipping my hair.

Funny thing is, when you bat your eyelashes enough in a guy's direction, they're bound to take notice. So unsurprisingly, one day I opened my locker to find a note from Connor, scrawled in his boyish chicken scratch, asking me out. Even lacking the element of surprise, I still did a squealing happy dance when I got home.

Connor turned out to be excellent first boyfriend material. He was sweet and just as awkward as me. Most importantly; he never pressured me for more than a few stolen kisses, despite what my mother and Angela warned me of. I was so happy to have a boyfriend, that I blissfully ignorant of the warning signs.

I ignored the fact that Connor had fantastic taste in clothes.

I ignored the fact that Connor took longer getting ready in the morning than I did.

I was also completely oblivious to the nature of Connor and Laurent's "friendship", until I heard it through the grapevine that they made out at homecoming in the parking lot.

Needless to say, I swore off boys completely after that.

I held onto that conviction well into my Freshman year at University of Washington.

Of course I noticed a guy here or there, but I was so focused on staying afloat with my journalism classes, that I had no time to date.

That is, until I fell for Tyler Crowley, quite literally.

It was right before Spring Break. That week when everyone is frantic for a respite from the course load. I was walking to my last class of the day through the quad, when this weight rush into me from the side, knocking me on my ass. Apparently, I had disrupted a game of frisbee. I flailed around for a bit, annoyed that said ass just got smeared with grass stains and mud. I looked up, prepared to give some witless jock a piece of my mind, until I locked onto a perfect face with earnest hazel eyes and sandy blonde hair.

Tyler was so apologetic and sweet; helping me to my feet, picking up my backpack, dusting me off. He even offered to have my jeans dry cleaned. His rambling was adorable and disarming.

I ended up skipping my last class for coffee with Tyler that lasted well into the evening, punctuated by a kiss at my dorm's front door.

As I went to bed that night, a new contact in my phone book, I was so spun over Tyler Crowley that sleep did not come easy.

During spring break, we texted and called each other relentlessly. Completely consumed in him, he was my first bleary eyed thought in the morning, my last sleep laden thought at night. By the time that finals rolled around that semester, we had become that love sick couple everyone pokes fun at for their codependency.

As a matter of fact, three years and a bachelor's degree later, we were still that couple. I may not have been as starry eyed in lust with Tyler as I was at the start, but the love that we shared was softer, more comfortable. Like an old T-shirt.

Apparently too comfortable, because as I mingled my way through the halls of Tyler's soon-to-be former frat house, I realized that I had not seen my boyfriend since he left to refill my drink. So, drunk on the fulfillment from completing my degree, the excitement from our impending move, and the fantastic bottle of wine that someone brought to our going away slash graduation party; I sought him out.

After more than thirty minutes of searching for Ty, I finally saw someone who could help; Ty's douchey frat brother, Garrett. I flagged him down, miming my inquiry over the pounding bass, and he pointed me upstairs.

I figured that he got caught up in conversation with one of his plethora of friends, but nothing prepared me for the clusterfuck that I stumbled upon.

No other painful, humiliating experience compared to walking in on my boyfriend screwing another girl. Not just any girl mind you, but Katie Motherfucking Marshall; his ex girlfriend.

For a moment, I stood there completely frozen, watching him go to town in this chick's vag.

And then my mouth began functioning before anything else, and I screeched "What the fuck is this shit!"

Thankfully, all motion on that god forsaken bed came to a standstill, and Tyler removed his dick from his ex girlfriend.

Unfortunately, I was not spared the mental image of Ty stuffing his half hard on back into his pants, before my legs caught up with my mouth and I bolted from the room.

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A/N: Soooo hai. *waves sheepishly*

I know that this whole chapter was probably not a lot of y'all's cup of tea, and that's cool. I just saw this unfolding this way. There are probably a lot of Edward x Bella purists out there, but I needed to show Bella's history so that you see her state of mind when she first meets Edward.

BTWs nearly all of this chapter is inspired by my own life, because you can't make this up lol. My Ben was an Ian, my Connor was a Raymond, and my Tyler was a Quentin.

If anyone is still interested, please review! They make me happy squeal. ;D