Doest thine eyes deceive you?

A Piano Lessons update? Gasp!

I have no comment on anything except to say "thank you" for having continued interest, and that this story is coming out of hiatus. With a vengeance.

Special thanks to jandco, bittenev, jfly, jenndaynumbers, and sensecoalition. They all did a read and served as wonderful sounding boards. Special special thanks to siDEADde, who held my hand. I owe you a jar of deadly nightshade, lovie.

Recap, unless you wanna go back and read that last chapter: Bella teacher. Gets spanked atop a piano, wakes up in Edward's apartment with no recollection of what happened. Finds out special piano lessons are being taught by the spanker. Piano lessons don't go well. Angela gets married. Bella dances with Edward to Guns n Roses while Tanya looks bitter.

Bella

"Edward," her voice rang out, drawing out that last syllable like,"Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you!" As if she hadn't been glaring at the two of us from the sidelines, along with everyone else in the reception hall.

"Tanya," he replied curtly, stepping away and dropping my hand. He sort of passed me off to Jasper, who had appeared out of nowhere to claim me for the next dance. He must've seen Tanya march to the DJ and then over to us as I had. I suppressed my grin, suddenly giddy that I had inspired such irritation in her.

"Thanks, B. Seeya at the bar this week, I presume?" Edward's cheek turned up at me before he turned to his partner, his smile and sex eyes burning into me. Asshole. He turned his back before I could reply, whisking Tanya off in circles and twirls.

"Thanks, Jasper," I whispered, wrapping my hands around his warm neck. The little hairs at the back of his head tickled my fingers, but I squeezed tighter and laid my head on his chest, closing my eyes. Tanya had picked a shit song, too. Man, did I love what Celine Dion was doing to Edward's face at that moment. He looked like he was trying very hard to suppress the urge to vomit. Perfect.

Jackass.

I watched the two of them gliding around; Edward really was an excellent dancer, and Tanya was no slouch, either. Nobody cleared the dance floor to accommodate their moves, but everyone was staring as the beautiful, tall, well-matched pair swayed to the sappy love song.

"Listen, girl. You've got to stop letting him get to you. People will think you're in love," Jasper said, amusement and admonition clear in his tone. I tried to step back so I could smack his sternum, but he laughed at my sad effort and squeezed tighter, palming the top of my head and turning us so that I no longer faced the golden couple.

"So, I take it Alice told you what happened." Normally, I would have been mortified that he knew, but this was Jasper. He wasn't your typical male, and if he rejoiced in that Brotherhood way that I had scored, he didn't let on.

"She did. Listen, he's obviously got some issues, but I wouldn't worry about it. Take your stubbornness and turn it into a strength. You just might come out on top of this one."

"Alice told you I like to be on top, too?"

His rich laughter filled the room as he threw his head back, causing several heads to turn our way. I caught a glimpse of those green eyes and smirked in satisfaction. Ha ha, Mr. Cullen. I don't disgust every male in the room.

Just you.

As I swayed slowly, purposefully moving off beat from Celine, I wondered why I let it bother me that I had been used and abused by Edward. I mean, it was obviously my own fault. I'm the one who drank too much; I'm the one who had jumped on the bomb when Angela couldn't climb the stage in front of a roomful of drunken revelers. I was the one who got so plastered I couldn't remember a night of (probable) anonymous sex.

I was the one who had to go and un-anonymous the sex.

I might have loved Esme for being an amazing human being, but I was pretty sure I'd never forgive her for having my one night stand for a nephew. Or for manipulating me into "meeting" him. If she saw wedding bells in our future, she was in for a sad surprise. But I could play nice. Mostly. I'd have to, I still had eight lessons to go.

Celine was mercifully taken over by the "Y.M.C.A", and I made it back to the main table. Most people were tipsy and dancing at that point, so I sat down in a huff, easing off my shoes and watching everyone make a spectacle of themselves. I managed to avoid several more unwanted dance invitations, keeping it to close friends (Emmett, Jasper, Ben) and group things (Bunny Hop, Electric Slide, the usual).

We saw the happy couple off and I swayed out to the parking lot, trying hard not to notice (or care) that she left with him.

I tried not to think too much on my fervent wish that I wouldn't have to hear any of the sordid details of that particular pairing later, whether it came from her mouth or his.

The following day was a Sunday, and I lazily rolled out of bed, groping for my Aquafina. Ugh. Definitely better lay off the sauce from now on. I felt like an animal had died right on my tongue. A fuzzy, dirty animal.

After getting showered and tossing on some mostly clean jeans, I dug into my purse for my cell phone. Ever since leaving it at a certain piano instructor's apartment, I had become slightly paranoid about its whereabouts.

I had one new message. I didn't recognize the phone number, so I listened.

It was James.

"Hey there, Tiger. Listen, call me back. I think we should do a one-on-one as soon as possible. Come out to the Bar on Wednesday and we can discuss the details. Until then, Cutie."

Oh, brother. I decided I'd better call him back before he started texting me dirty forwards or something.

"Bella," he answered. I could hear the smile and dirt in his voice. It's what made him such an effective piano bar player, I supposed. I had to smile, too. He was one of those guys that made you feel like you were naked whenever he thought about you. It wasn't necessarily a terrible thing, either.

"Hi, James. Listen, I think we should do my piano lessons at my school. Can you meet me there on say, Wednesdays? Around three? I think we could get the choir room, they don't practice then." I was babbling nervously, playing with my hair. I still wasn't sure the plan would work, but I wanted to try. I didn't know where I stood with Edward, but his condescending attitude made me want to show him up. Somehow, I'd do it. Maybe James was the answer?

There was a niggling voice in my lower brain telling me that this whole thing was a bad idea, but I swatted at it impatiently, my fingers tangling in the snarls in my drying hair.

"Sure, Bella." He sounded like he was placating me. I hope he knew I was serious about the piano lesson, and that he didn't think it was like… a date, or something. We ironed out the details, and I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping that James would be on his best behavior.

The door burst open as I was fixing some tuna salad. I didn't even need to look to know that it was Rose and Alice. I would have been surprised if it were anyone else.

"Well?" Alice demanded. I turned and took a big bite out of my tuna on wheat. Chewing and trying to look pensive, I stared at her and shrugged my shoulders.

"What?" I mumbled through the tunafish.

"Don't be gross, Bella. Swallow it first." Alice marched over and hopped lightly onto my counter, swiping at some errant bread crumbs with a cupped hand.

"That's what she said," Rosalie quipped, straddling a chair and managing to make it look ladylike. The two of them waited patiently while I finished my sandwich. I wasn't exactly sure what they expected to hear, but I assumed it was about Edward and what had happened at the wedding.

"What?" I repeated, tossing my paper towel and the crust corners into the trash. I avoided their gazes by putting away the mayonnaise and rinsing out the tuna can, but they were used to my avoidance strategies and waited until I was finished.

"Don't you 'what' me," Alice said crisply, pursing her lips. Rosalie grinned at Alice before adding, "Yeah, Bella. What was going on there yesterday?"

"I don't know what you two are on about," I replied. I leaned against the sink, scrubbing at my hands and inspecting my nails, trying to gather my thoughts before answering.

"Mr. Sexy Piano Player, dufus," Rose said. She even rolled her eyes for affect.

"Guys… it was just a dance-"

"Two dances," they corrected, in tandem.

"-two dances, and he was just as annoying and-"

"Sexy as ever?" Alice supplied.

"Firm and delicious as you didn't remember?" Rosalie added.

"Oh, ha ha. Look, he saved me from being hit on by some guy, and I felt I owed it to him to dance," I finished, trying to explain the unexplainable. Why had he danced with me twice? "I don't really get him. He's hard to-"

"Stop picturing naked?"

"Keep your hands off of?"

"I'm leaving now," I said, stomping to my bedroom while their laughter followed me. I didn't have anywhere to go, though, and as soon as I returned from a pretend errand of folding towels, they were on me again.

"Does he smell good, Bella? He seems like he would smell like a commercial for Cadillacs or something."

"Don't even act like pissing off Tanya wasn't a special bonus."

"Will you videotape your next piano lesson so we can analyze it?"

"When are we going to Singin' in the Rain again?"

I held up my hands in silent protest, but their piano questions reminded me of a great distracting topic of conversation.

"Did I tell you guys that I'm going to get secret lessons from James?"

"Bella. Bella, Bella, Bella." Rosalie was shaking her head while Alice slapped her hands on her hips, her flashy bangle bracelets clanking against each other.

"What is your motivation for that? Because that James guy was a skeeze. I'm pretty sure he'd fuck you if you simply asked."

"Rosalie!" Gees, she always dropped f-bombs into conversation, and it never failed to raise my ire. Call it the English teacher in me, but I always felt like it was beneath her.

"Oh, don't you 'Rosalie' me. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck." She was lazily flipping through last month's Rolling Stone, looking for her current article. "Would you just check this out. I am so amazing, it never fails to astound me." She pulled a Sharpie out of her back pocket and pulled the cap off with her teeth, signing her name with a flourish. Like she always did.

"Did Rosalie tell you that she gets to meet Caleb next week?" Now I needed a distraction from my distraction.

"Shut up." Alice dropped the offended act and swatted the magazine out of Rose's hand. Meeting hot rock stars and talking about vintage Dior were the only two things that could shut Alice Brandon up.

I let the two of them dish on Rosalie's dream gig for a while as I continued cleaning up my mess. I had dumped everything out of my purse before flopping down on my bed after the wedding, and I saw the Mix CD with Angela and Ben's image on it lying on the counter. I already knew what was on the mix tape since I had made the mix myself, but I still picked it up and put it on the shelf with the other albums. The new Mr. and Mrs. Cheney were to be my testament that couples did, in fact, work.

"So, Bella. Nice try, but you're not getting out of it that easily. James. Two piano lessons, two delicious sleazeballs. Dish. Now." Alice grabbed my arm and led me to the couch, pushing me down so that I was flanked by both she and Rosalie. Alice might have been a good five inches shorter than me, but there was no way I could take her in a fight. She probably had hidden tailor's scissors and pins on her person, too.

Reluctantly, I spilled. "I- I thought maybe Edward the Great needed to be put in his place. So I'd, you know. Learn to play on the sly from a guy he doesn't seem to like. Maybe one day, I'll get the opportunity to show him up." I closed my eyes tight, feeling the familiar prickles as I flushed, waiting for the stern admonitions about "not letting a guy drag you down" that were sure to come.

They didn't.

The two of them were silent. So silent that I was sure they had left. I opened my eyes to discover my shoulders were hunched together, and Rosalie and Alice were staring at each other in wonder.

"That is-"

"Bella, you-"

"I don't know what-"

"Bella. We are so proud of you." Alice hugged me as though I had managed to snag a new Sonia Rykiel without her advice or prodding.

"Gee, thanks," I muttered, but I was pleased. I could probably enlist their help, too. Lord knows I'd need it, having to deal weekly with not only my aloof and jerk-y real piano teacher, but my hot, dirty secret one.

"No, really. This is great. Intrigue! Suspense! Sex, bars. Boys. It's like college all over again," Alice said, fake and wistful. She grabbed my wrist and shook my arm up and down.

"Let's take you down to my loft, get you all gussied up."

"Not so fast, Ali. Lessons aren't until Wednesday." I sighed, feeling a headache approaching.

"Better. We need to prep you."

"Get you waxed." Rose had picked up the magazine and was drawing mustaches on the .

"Find you better bras."

"Underwear, too."

"Thongs."

"Well, thongs are very 2001. But the guys always appreciate a thong peeking out over low-backed jeans."

"I'd just as soon go commando."

"You do go commando."

"Emmett gets mad when I wear chonies."

"You're welcome for that, by the way."

"A suggestion for which I will eternally be grateful."

"Guys," I interrupted. "Do I even need to be here?"

"Shut up. We're getting to you. Where was I?" Alice dropped my hand and tapped her chin. "Oh, yes. Bella going sans les culottes."

"No, Ali. I am wearing underwear."

Rosalie sighed. "You're so provincial, Bella."

"New topic, please."

"Kay. Can we please go to the loft and find you something new and zippy to wear?"

"I don't do zip, Alice. And no. I'm not dressing up for James."

"Aww. You ruin all of my fun." Alice pretend pouted, sticking out her lip and batting her lashes like a cartoon.

"That might work with clueless and lovestruck history teachers, but the English department has been inured of your manipulative ways," I said crisply. I was enjoying this way too much.

"Fine. The Party Pooper strikes again. Will you at least consent to a new, albeit non-designer, top?" Alice's wheedling face was on, the genuine one, and if I could give her a little bit of happiness by letting her buy me a new shirt, so be it.

"Fine. But I pick the store, and I'm not going near the damned mall. Understand me?"

"Yesssss." Alice jumped up and Rosalie lithely uncrossed her long, Nair-commercial legs, standing and brushing off non-existent dust. I followed my beautiful buddies to the door, grabbing my wallet and wondering once again how I managed to be friends with Beauty and the Beautier. No matter. They loved me, and that was all that mattered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Before I knew it, Wednesday arrived, and I barely had time to mentally prep for James' arrival when he texted me that he was out in the parking lot. Surreptitiously checking out the staff wandering to and from department meetings and detentions, I grabbed James by the arm and dragged him out to the Performing Arts center. We headed to one of the classrooms that I knew contained a piano, and I sat down at the bench before he could start any funny business.

If he thought we were there for anything other than instruction, he hid it well. Other than an awkward hug (the kind where you think it's a handshake), he acted like a normal guy. For the next hour and a half, James took me through scales and note-reading. He wasn't half bad as a teacher, either. I said as much as we were wrapping things up, and he gave a small smile as he scratched at his ear lobe.

"I actually paid my way through college giving piano lessons to girls at the school," he explained, and when I raised a skeptical eyebrow, he continued, "Hey. It's a great way to get girls. Some of them even learned something." His eyes almost closed when he smiled genuinely, and my answering grin had him chuckling appreciatively.

"What can I say? The ladies love a piano man. Now, are you coming out to the bar tonight? We've got something new and exciting happening." He wouldn't tell me what it was, but he did make me promise that I'd put in an appearance.

"Just for you, James. I'll come for my secret teacher."

"And I love making you come. Seeya later!" He was out the door before I could slap him for his dirty behavior, but who was I kidding? James was fun, even if he was kind of sleazy.

But now that I was going to the bar again… I'd have to prepare myself, both mentally and physically. And emotionally, I suppose.

I briefly considered enlisting the help of my girls, but for some reason, I didn't want to tell them I was going to the bar. It seemed… complicated. I wanted to be able to do this on my own- stand my ground and all that. The thought of Alice barging in and taking over my wardrobe made me smile, though.

I drove home in a rush; it was almost five, and I wanted to have sufficient time to stake out a good spot from which to watch and judge. I burst into my apartment, half expecting Alice, Rose, or both to be waiting, legs crossed and feet tapping impatiently to hear about my afternoon with James. They must've been busy, or maybe taken my veiled threats the previous shopping excursion to stay the hell away. Whatever it was, I was left to my own devices.

I threw some Bagel Bites into the oven and dashed to the shower. I stood under the warmth for a minute, trying to bring forth some catharsis, but all I did was burn my dinner. I am nothing if not consistent.

I burned my fingertips tossing the bites of pizza goodness on a paper plate. As I danced down the hallway to my bedroom, I hummed a wordless tune as I made my way to the closet. I was in a good mood. I was sure this evening would be interesting, and I needed to dress comfortably, if not super sexy. I hesitated as I got to my closet, realizing that sexy clothing options were slim. The crazy tight jeans I had worn that first night were still on the floor, but I couldn't wear those. They still reeked of spilled booze and hasty decisions. Instead, I pulled on my trusty 501s from a vintage expedition Angela and I had embarked on back in high school; they weren't as loose as they were back then, but they did make my ass look fantastic. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but the thought of Edward slapping another sticker there crossed my head as I pulled them on.

Finding a shirt was much harder. I easily discarded t-shirts with ironic statements, but I didn't go for any skanky halters (Alice would have called them "stylish") or tank tops, either. I settled for a cute little hippie-type thing that required no bra, but I wore one anyway. No way was I going to that joint without support and nipple coverage.

I ran my fingers through my drying hair and decided to let it hang loose; no makeup, either. I was lucky to get away with that and I knew it. I always screwed up the eyeliner, anyway. I did decide on some lip gloss, but I had the distinct impression I'd be licking my lips a lot throughout the evening. Whether out of nervousness or flirtation, I wasn't really sure. But it didn't hurt to be prepared, so I stuffed the tube of too-pricey gloss in my pocket, dug my cash and license out of my purse, and put those in my back pocket. I wanted to remain unencumbered for the evening.

I was nervous as I drove to the bar. If I wanted to be honest with myself, I didn't know how to act around Edward, and I really resented the fact that he reduced me to a taller version of my junior high self. I wasn't exactly Miss Popularity in high school or anything, but I wasn't a drunken party girl idiot, nor a total dilettante, either. And Edward just… I wasn't sure how I felt about him, really. Irritated, mostly.

I got there around eight; I had taken much longer staring at my closet than I had anticipated. The noise pouring out the door was pretty impressive, considering it was September and a Wednesday. I steeled myself with a shake of my head, plastering on a smirk and strutting my shit as I walked up to the door.

The bouncer guy outside waved me in; I was a little annoyed as I realized that my arrival was anticipated, but at least I didn't have to stand outside in the chilly fall air.

The wash of slight smoky, definitely boozy haze and dim lighting assaulted me as I made it down the brief, dark hallway. I could practically smell the pheromones; there were no bridal parties, but there certainly were a lot of females. The guys were scattered around the room, sipping their Bud Lights and eyeing the talent as the girls in the room drank their Cosmos and Lemon Drops, shaking their asses and occasionally getting felt up by the dueling pianists.

One of whom was certainly not Edward, James, or Mike.

Was this the thing James wouldn't tell me about?

I had no clue what was going on, but I tossed my shoulders and hair back, ready to take on whatever was going to be thrown at me.

So originally, this chapter was twice as long. But I decided not to overwhelm you. I promise, though. I'mma update this bitch much faster than once every six months, swear. In fact… you might get another chapter by the weekend. You wanna know who the new guy is, dontcha?