A/N: Since it's Oscars day, here's my acceptance speech. Firstly I'd like to thank the real Christine for letting me plagerise her life and add sparkly vampires to it. Big props also go out to Project Team Beta, because apparently I temporarily forgot what a comma was for, and they kicked my ass for it. And the band is now starting to play that music, so I've run out of time.

Is there a heaven?

If so, is there a hell?

Is there a section of hell set aside for teachers who lust over their students?

If my dream that night was any indication, I needed to become accustomed to searing hot temperatures and seeing red men with horns.

I dreaded the arrival of last period. I knew the second I saw him sitting there in class, my mind would begin replaying my subconscious escapades. Our escapades, to be precise.

I may not be the most imaginative person when it came to fantasies, but I had awakened to a layer of sweat covering my body and my heart hammering out of my chest.

The fluttering of my heart resumed when Edward walked into the classroom. I felt my cheeks flush bright red as our dream-state encounter was relived in my head in full Technicolor. When I glanced up in the direction of his desk, he was staring at me, mouth slightly agape, with an expression that made me question whether he was thinking the same things I was. It was only when the girl I assumed to be his sister nudged him that he refocused his gaze at the whiteboard.

I was going to get a terrible report for this placement, I was sure. How could she recommend me when I had barely paid any attention to the class, instead caught up in my own drama? I had to be asked several times to pass out the handouts. I couldn't answer a basic question about the book. All I could concentrate on was Edward.

As soon as school was over, I raced to my car, shutting myself inside and resting my head on the steering wheel.

"Idiot. Idiot. Idiot," I chanted, gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles were white. Even through my self-chastisement, his face kept flickering through my mind. I was a completely lost cause. I couldn't understand how I had suddenly become so incredibly flustered by this teenage boy. I couldn't recall ever feeling like this before. Sure, I had had crushes on guys before, but most grew out of friendship and an intellectual connection. After getting to know them, then I would start to think of them more and notice their appearance.

This was different. I had never spoken to the boy. I hadn't even heard him speak. Maree hadn't called on him at all in the past two lessons for answers, so I had yet to hear his voice. I hoped desperately that I would get to hear him talk soon and the typical teenage boy speak would break the spell I seemed to be under. Because I mean, really – it was statistically unlikely that he could be that good-looking and intelligent.

Releasing the steering wheel of its death-grip, I turned on some music and leaned back in my seat, trying to calm my brain. I tried to think of anything except Edward. Anything except the compromising positions we had found ourselves in during my dreams.

Music … drums … drummers … tattoos … ink … pens … writing … classes … Edward … DAMMIT!

Try again.

Car … window … house … bedroom … bed … Edward … Oh, for the LOVE of GOD!

As I finished internally chastising myself again, I felt the strangest feeling, a pricking on the back of my neck.

Ever so slowly, I opened my eyes one at a time and glanced around me. The parking lot had emptied out fairly quickly, and there were only a handful of vehicles remaining. A few kids were throwing backpacks into back seats, oblivious to the rest of the world around them. A couple of kids were busy making out against the passenger door of a car in the middle of the lot. And there – partially hidden by a tree about ten spaces down, was a silvery blue sports car with one kid on either side.

I gasped out loud. Edward and Alice Masen.

Both were looking at me. Alice had a look of curiosity on her tiny features, and a small smile graced her lips. But it was Edward—Edward—who shocked me the most. His gaze was so intense, and it was as if he were seeing right through to my soul.

My heart rate accelerated, and I suddenly felt like I couldn't look away. Like some magnetic force was holding me in place.

The sexiest man—boy, I had to remind myself—I had ever encountered was staring at me with such intensity I felt like I would burst into flames at any moment.

And the feeling wasn't pleasant.

Self-consciousness swept over me, and I forced my eyes away from him, starting the car with shaking fingers. As I changed into reverse, I glanced back over at them. Alice was saying something, trying to get his attention, and with a frown, Edward climbed into the driver's seat.

I tried to focus on where I was driving, but I couldn't help but notice that his eyes followed my car as I left the lot.

There was something different about him. And not just in an "I want to jump him" way. Both the Masens seemed different from the other kids in the class, and I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was. As it was, I didn't seem to be the only one who thought there was something up. The other students gave them a wide berth, and the siblings only ever seemed to talk to each other. Which was a shame, really, because more than once I had noticed Alice gazing longingly at the popular kids, almost as if she wanted to talk to them.

I was quite proud that I managed to make it through the remainder of the week without embarrassing myself further. Sure, I still dreamed about Edward every night, but I kept my conduct completely professional in the classroom. Friday was an unusual day on campus, since the students were more disruptive than usual from Halloween excitement. But it was the easiest day by far to keep my thoughts on the lessons, as both Edward and Alice were absent from school. It didn't stop me from thinking about him, however—it was just that now I kept wondering where he was. Was he sick? Did he need someone to nurse him better?

Bad Christine! Don't think things like that!

I let myself into my apartment after my first full week, threw my bag in the corner, and collapsed on my bed. Working was so tiring! Whoever had decided on this whole "school starts at eight" thing deserved to die. Or… he was probably already dead. Whatever. Semantics. I'd raise him from the dead and kill him again. However you killed zombies. I wasn't exactly schooled on the whole horror movie genre.

Deep in my contemplation of the best way to eradicate the undead, my phone started ringing from within my purse. With a loud groan, I managed to haul myself up and across the room to retrieve it.

"This better be good, Amy!" I answered. "I'm about ready to take a nap."

"You've never napped in your life."

"That's how tired I am. I'm considering a career with better work hours. Maybe waitressing or pole dancing."

"Nobody wants to see you attempt to spin around a pole, you doofus."

"Shut up," I grumbled. "Why are you calling me at this god-forsaken hour?"

"Four in the afternoon?"

"I don't know. Whatever. It's dark."

"That's because you were too lazy to open your curtains this morning."

"Oh yeah."

"You need to come out with us tonight."

My back leaning against the wall, I slowly slid down until I was sitting on the rug. "I really don't think I do."

"Yes, you do! Please? I'll be your best friend!"

I rolled my eyes. "The only reason you want me to come out is so I can buy you booze."

"No!" She sounded legitimately wounded at my accusation, but she was a good actress when she wanted to be. "I just miss you. I want to hang out with you."

"And drive you and your friends to some underclassmen party?"

"No! Well…. If you were going to drive over here, you couldn't drink anyway, right? So being the DD wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience."

"Amy, no. I am not driving half an hour to take you to a party."

"I want you to come to the party. And it's not a party, anyway."

"It's Halloween, and you're not going to a party?"

"It's just a bunch of people hanging out at Michael's place. Um…. In costumes."

I sighed heavily. Of course there'd be costumes. "Who's Michael?"

"He's a friend of Justin."

"And Justin is…."

"Seriously? How can you ask who Justin is? We've been dating for two weeks. Do you not listen to me, like, ever? I can't believe you don't listen to me."

Cue more rolling of my eyes. I could swear I'd never heard her mention this Justin guy. "I listen to you. I just had a temporary mind blank."

"I know how you can make it up to me for your lack of interest in my life."

"How?"

"Come out with us tonight. It's not going to be late, and you can crash on our floor. I want to see my sister. I want you to meet Justin. I want you to have a bit of fun on Halloween."

I couldn't say no to her, and she knew it. She could guilt me into anything. It was how it had been our whole lives. Amy got her way. That's just how things worked.

"Fine. I'll come and see you. But I'm leaving at twelve whether you're ready to go or not. And I'm not dressing up."

"Deal." The smile I could hear in her voice was worth it. "Come over at about seven. We're getting pizzas before we go."

"Fine," I repeated.

"Oh, and Christine?" I heard just before I hung up.

"Yeah?"

"If you wanted to pick up some Captain on the way over, I'd love you forever."

I hung up the phone without answering her. But we both knew I'd be stopping at the liquor store on my way.

My car was filled with the noise of scantily-clad, giggling twenty-year-olds. The second they had climbed into the car, Amy had swiped the alcohol I had bought, and they started passing it between them, taking swigs and cringing in turn.

"Here! It's right here!" Amy pointed to a house lit up like Times Square, and I came to a stop.

Her friends climbed out the back, but I held Amy back and looked into her sparkling eyes. "Seriously. Two hours tops. Then I'm leaving. If you're not ready to leave by then, you need to get a cab, okay?"

"Ni-Ni, if you'd just relax you might actually find that you have fun. It's okay to let your hair down every once in a while, you know."

"You know this isn't my idea of a good time. But I'm here because you wanted me to come. Two hours."

"Fine." She moved to pull herself out of the car in some acrobatic move that I had yet to learn – she was so graceful but managed to keep her knees together, avoiding any tragic Britney Spears-esque underwear-flashing incidents. "Oh." She turned back to me at the last second. "Can I borrow some money for a cab?"

"No!"

With a giggle, she slammed the passenger door closed and waited impatiently with her friends in the middle of the road.

I hated parties. Hated them with a passion. And even more than that, I hated the types of parties Amy always insisted on attending. I still refused to go to any frat or sorority parties on principle, but even these off-campus ones seemed to be the same types of people. They were wall-to-wall beautiful bodies writhing in drunken bliss. And they were enough to make me want to vomit into my wine glass.

As expected, I quickly found myself in a corner, leaning against the wall, sipping my orange juice with a splash of bubbles – just enough to make me feel like I was partaking in the alcohol-fueled atmosphere without making me drunk. I knew I could drink twenty of these concoctions before I was anywhere near the legal limit to drive home. And I only planned to have two. Amy was off dancing and networking, making sure everyone noticed her costume. She told me that she was a butterfly, but to me it just looked like she was wearing underwear. There was a tall, muscular boy she was kissing every so often, so I could only assume that he was the aforementioned "Justin". Every so often she would venture back to my people-watching vantage-point, make some comment about another guest, urge me to dance with her, and flounce off again.

Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I checked the time once again. Half an hour and I was leaving, Amy or no Amy.

Glancing around the room, I noticed a gorgeous blonde cave-woman looking at me with her eyes narrowed over the head of her short, black-haired, fairy of a friend. They were whispering to each other while she glared at me. I quickly looked down at myself to check I hadn't spilled my drink over my shirt.

The short one beckoned to someone in the other room.

My eyes flicked to the doorway.

My heart faltered as Edward Masen walked into the living room, his eyes instantly landing on me.

Fuck my life.