I have a new laptop. New chapter to celebrate? Why, yes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of it's characters, thank you.

The perfect man

Chapter 3 - clean break

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"You know, for someone who's been alive for seventeen years, you really don't have all that much stuff." Natalie commented, plopping down onto the carpeted floor of my room.

I sighed and sat down beside her in a more lady-like fashion. Or, as lady-like as the clumsiest person in the world can get.

"Yeah, I know."

It had been two and a half months since Renee and Phil had gotten engaged, and the wedding was in two weeks. I had decided to get a head-start on packing all my stuff, and I had thought that something as trivial as packing up my clothes would be easy and boring, but no. I found that while I was packing, I was thinking more and more about the fact that yes, I was leaving Phoenix, possibly forever. I was leaving Natalie and Renee. I would no longer have my tiny, stuffy room that I didn't really like that much and I would no longer have to worry about Natalie forcing me to sneak out my window whenever she wanted to party.

And even though I always moaned and groaned about how I hated sneaking out of my house, it was kind of fun. And I would miss it, even though I never thought I would.

Natalie had been good about not acting sulky about my move, and I was glad. I was already in a nostalgic and somewhat sad mood, and I didn't want her to make it worse. I didn't want her guilt-tripping me, either.

So we went on as if nothing had ever happened, like my mother wasn't getting remarried and I wasn't relocating to the wonderful town of Forks, Washington to live with Charlie, the police officer. It was surprisingly easy.

And one of the distractions Natalie and I were both glad to have was The List. It was stupid, really. We would drive uptown and sit on our bench under the huge oak tree in the park, watching people walk their dogs, push children around in strollers, play Frisbee, and basically die under the unmerciful glare of the Arizona sunlight.

And we would people-watch, the one thing that we could do without one of us complaining. The List would be spread out on our laps, crinkled but proud-looking. Every time we spotted a guy (ones that were between the ages sixteen-forty, because anyone too young would make us creepy and anyone way older than us was just sort of disgusting), we would observe him for as long as he would stay in our sight, commenting on his actions (and if he had a girlfriend/wife, that was even better) and choosing the traits that might make him The Perfect Man.

Of course, no man ever really got close, and usually all of them had the same traits anyways. Usually athletic or strong. They never got close enough for us to hear their voice, and we never saw them long enough for us to depict whether he was "romantic" or "interesting."

And yes, I suppose we were a little obsessed.

Natalie gasped, straightening from her previous slouched position on the floor. "We forgot one!"

She was talking about The List, of course.

"What is it?" I asked, only slightly interested.

She rolled her eyes. "I can't believe we forgot it. It's like, the most important one!"

I rolled my eyes right back. "Yeah, I'm sure it is."

"It is! He has to be a good-kisser!" She exclaimed, pulling The List out of her back pocket and grabbed a pen off my desk.

"Oh, that's of the utmost importance." I was tired. Renee and Phil weren't the only ones stressed out about the wedding.

"Of course it is. I mean, would you really be able to bear dating someone who couldn't kiss?!" She was incredulous about the very thought of it.

I shrugged. "I thought that The Perfect Man had to have only five traits on that list. What if he had five, but he was a bad-kisser?" I asked.

She looked stumped. "Damn, Bella. Why do you have to ask such good questions?"

I smiled.

"But you're entirely wrong!" I frowned. "A man has to have at least five traits to be acceptable. To be perfect, he has to have all of them." She thought she was triumphant.

"Okay, then. So he doesn't have to be a good-kisser to be acceptable?" I raised a brow.

She glared at me. "Okay, let's put it this way. No guy can be acceptable if he can't kiss well. Even if he has all the other traits."

Both brows raised at this. "Seriously?"

She nodded firmly. "Tongue counts, too."

And we both burst out laughing.

--

One week from the wedding, Natalie and I were sitting on our usual bench, people-watching. Again.

The List was sitting on our laps, like usual, but today was different. Clouds were covering the sky, blocking the sun from shining and it was considerably cooler, though the air was thick, a sign of rain later on today.

Rainy, cloudy, miserable. I wondered if Forks was like this everyday.

Natalie shifted uncomfortably beside me. "Um, Bella? Do you know that guy?" She pointed to a dark-headed guy about our age that wasn't very far away from us. In fact, he was walking towards us, staring right at us. "He's totally staring at you." Or, staring at me, according to Natalie.

"Maybe he thinks he knows us."

"Either way, he's cute. If he talks to you, don't trip, stumble, stutter, blush, or fall. Or, just don't do anything Bella Swan-ish." She directed in a bossy tone. I rolled my eyes.

The guy (who was cuter than most of the population of guys at our school) was only about two feet away from us now. Natalie smiled at him brilliantly. "Hey there."

He nodded at her and directed his gaze to me again. "Hey. I'm Jackson."

I blushed despite of myself, not used to having someone stare at me so intensely. "Hi." I mumbled quietly.

Natalie laughed lightly, sensing my slight distress. "I'm Natalie, and this is Bella. Do I know you from somewhere?"

Still staring at me, he replied, "No, I just moved here. My mom suggested that I take a walk and introduce myself to some people around the neighborhood. I think she's crazy, but I'd rather get out of my house anyways, you know?" Natalie nodded, looking a little bored already. She had stuffed The List in her pocket when Jackson walked up to us, but I could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she marked off stuff on The List.

I nodded and smiled. "Nice to meet you." I felt a little bit more comfortable with him now. He wasn't as creepy as he acted. He didn't exactly look creepy, he had dark, curly hair and light brown eyes with tan skin. The contrast between his dark dramatic hair and the lightness of his eyes was a little interesting, in the least.

After a moment of somewhat-awkward silence, Natalie scooted away from me, patting the seat between us, giving me a sly wink, making me blush again.

"Have a seat, Jackson."

--

A few hours, some ice cream, and some tried-and-failed whispered conversations about him when he wasn't paying attention later, Jackson was like a brother to me.

But that was weird, because I had never had a brother, and I was pretty sure he didn't think of me like a sister, by the way he would "accidentally" brush his arm against mine, how he would say that I had a bug in my hair just so he could touch my face. It was unnerving and sort of sweet at the same time. I shied away from him with the solid knowledge that I was leaving in less than a month. I couldn't date him.

But he couldn't seem to get the message.

It was getting dark, and Natalie had to go home before her mother started complaining about having "no help at the house" (because she had four sisters and two brothers, her being the oldest) and then getting herself grounded. And before we parted ways, Natalie pointed to the now very-crumpled paper in her hand. "This Jackson dude has seven of the traits. Hot, athletic, interesting, he smells really good," She grinned and nudged me then. "Sweet, good personality, and he's smart. Seriously, he's probably the best you'll find around here."

I rolled my eyes, glancing back towards Jackson, who was running around a few trashcans next to the sidewalk, a large chocolate lab that had probably gotten loose chasing him, tongue sticking out of its' mouth.

"Around here."

Natalie sighed, looking defeated. "I'm trying to help you, Isabella." I knew she was serious now. She was like Renee; whenever she used my full name, she meant business. "I know you're moving…but you don't have to date this guy…"

I shook my head. "No, Natalie. I don't hook up with guys, like-"

"Like me, you mean?" She actually looked offended. I didn't know what I was going to say, but I wasn't going to say her. I wouldn't do that.

"No, I wasn't going to say-"

"You know what?" She hissed, folding The List angrily. "I've had enough."

My eyes widened. "Enough of what?"

"Enough of this. You're always implying stuff about me - just because I like to have fun with people, doesn't mean I'm a slut." She shoved the paper into her back pocket roughly, her eyes shifting towards Jackson. He was now rolling around in the in the grass with the dog.

"I don't think you're a slut, Natalie. I never said that." I said calmly, trying to reason with her.

"You don't have to say it, Bella. It's what you don't say that matters." She sighed and started to walk away from me.

"Natalie, wait-"

"For what? You're moving, I'm staying here." Oh, so that's what this was about. She was upset because she thought I was leaving her behind. Didn't she know that I had no choice? "It just doesn't matter anymore, Bella."

I shook my head at her. "It doesn't have to-"

"Have a nice life in Washington."

She held up a hand to Jackson, "Later."

Jackson, who was now standing (though he had grass in his hair and dirt stains on his shirt), waved back. "Bye, Natalie!"

I frowned. What, was this the end of me and Natalie's friendship? I knew we probably wouldn't see each other after I moved, or after we left for college at least, but did it have to end this way?

Jackson was standing next to me, saying my name, but I couldn't hear him. All I could see was Natalie's retreating back, feeling guilty, ashamed, and angry. Part of me was thinking, "Hey, at least you don't have to worry about it anymore. It doesn't matter. You'll never see her again."

The other part of me was thinking, "You should follow her, because she's your friend and just because you're moving, that doesn't mean she doesn't feel hurt about it. You don't have to be so cynical."

It was like I had an angel on one shoulder, and the devil on the other.

It didn't matter what I wanted. I had gotten a clean break, whether I liked it or not.

--

Don't hate Jackson, please. He's not that bad. Please review!