Disclaimer: As much as we'd like to claim these characters, nothing Twilight-related belongs to us.

A/N: WOW! Seriously, you guys are nothing less than amazing. We've only posted one (two if you count the prologue) chapters, and we've already got almost the exact same amount of alerts as all seventeen chapters of WHWHW, a little less than half of the amount of favorites, and over 25 reviews! No lie, when I woke up the morning after we posted, I screamed when I saw I had 33 new emails. And it's been a constant flow of emails ever since. I can't even begin to explain how happy you guys have made us. :)

Okay, so we got a few comments in the last chapter about… well, Mini Masen's number of appearances. The truth is, though Masen and Edward are the same person, Masen has only been alive seventeen years. He doesn't have the 107 years of training to calm himself down. He's just a teenage boy. There's not much else to it. :)

Pardon the super lateness. We hope you still love us. Which you should, because this chapter is one of my favorites, if I don't say so myself. Nothing of much importance. Just some cuteness. :) We'll get the plot moving in a few. Slowly but surely.

[BEN]: I love this story! It's sooo different from the serious and depressing ambiance of WHWHW... But that doesn't mean you shouldn't read it! lol. I have to say that this chapter, Priceless, should be credited to Allie, who wrote about 90% of this. Her romantic antics are very well written and for a guy, I actually "awwed." So give her a round of applause in your reviews, and golf clap for my 10%!!!

Turning Eighteen
By cALLIEfornia BENches

Chapter 2: Priceless

I stood at the door of the flower shop, debating what to do. Go in, get her something, and give it to her tomorrow as an apology? Or would that be too much? I didn't even know what kind of flowers she liked. Hell, I didn't even know her name. She would probably think I was crazy. It was a bad idea, and I knew it.

So I swung the door open and took a few steps inside, the powerful floral scent hitting me so hard that I staggered back a step or two before I could continue on.

It had been a week since my first day. I had no time to focus on anything whatsoever, except for unpacking and moving in. But now, as everything was dying down, I decided I wanted to get something for the girl who sat next to me in history. She invaded my mind like a well trained army attacked a poor nation; I was by far a little too interested in this girl for it to be natural.

"Hey, sweetie," an elderly lady greeted me from behind a too-high bouquet of red and white roses. Her voice sounded worn, as though she used to be a singer when she was younger. "How can I help you today?" I opened my mouth to tell her, but she cut me off before I could get any sound out. "Wait, let me guess. Boys your age only come in for one thing: a girl, I presume?"

I nodded and looked down at my feet, embarrassed that I was so easily read.

The woman came back from behind the counter and I finally got a good look at her. She was short—couldn't have been more than five feet tall—with an old, wrinkly face and white hair that was in a thick braid down to her waist. She looked a bit like a hippie, with her hemp vest and long skirt. But I immediately took a liking to her. The woman turned around, examining the various flowers scattered precariously about a table.

"What's her name?" the woman asked.

I laughed once. "I... well, I don't exactly know, to be honest."

She smiled and even more wrinkles lit up her face. "Well how are you supposed to get her flowers if you don't know her name?"

"I know her last name," I said. "But that's all."

"How terribly romantic," she said with a dreamy smile as she made her way through the shop. I followed. "How I wished for someone like you when I was your age. I was a complete hopeless romantic, you see." She stopped in front of one long, rectangular pot filled with various assortments of flowers and started rifling through them as if they were hiding something. "Spent my days daydreaming about my Prince Charming. It got me into trouble more than once," she said with a laugh. "You know," she said, looking away from the flowers and up toward the ceiling, "men were so much more chivalrous back in my day." she laughed. "thank goodness ladies at least have some still walking like you. You must be quite a charmer."

My face reddened as I slightly blushed at her words. Walking around, I pilfered through the crowd of flowers, keen on finding the perfect one.

I leaned over the pot and found a particular flower that I thought was pretty. "What about this one?" I asked, pointing it out to her.

She shook her head without looking up. "That's a White Oleander. You know, like that terribly sad movie with Renée Zellweger and Michelle Pfeiffer? I don't suggest getting those unless you want to make her cry." I took a step back, as if the White Oleander was a curse. Definitely, this flower was not the one.

I sighed and tried looking over her shoulder to see what flowers she was considering. "Well what are you looking for?"

At that moment, she smiled. "Ah, here it is." She moved aside some of the flowers around it was easier to see the one she was talking about. It was simple, but I knew it was exactly what I was looking for. It looked like a daisy, but much prettier. The petals were whiter, which made the stem look greener. And in the middle of the petals was the prettiest blue color I had ever seen.

"Whoa," I said. "I thought the middles of flowers were supposed to be yellow."

She laughed. "They are. These kinds are more rare. Usually they only grow in California, but by some sort of seed confusion, one ended up here. It's the only one in the whole store." It looked so beautiful, and foreign in this lush, green state. The flower reminded me of that girl, who by far was easily out of place in the monstrous private school; and I was saying it as a good thing. A really good thing.

"It's perfect," I said, leaning closer so I could examine it more thoroughly. "How much?" I asked.

"For you? Free."

I looked at her and shook my head. "Really, how much?"

She pulled a shovel from the front of the table and started digging around the plant so she could get it out easily. "No, no, no," she said as she pulled the flower up, holding it with both hands by the bottom. I followed her as she went back to the front to tidy it up. "I insist. Please, take it."

I shook my head, smiling as she clipped everything off so it was just a pretty flower without all the leaves and dirt, before wrapping it in a royal blue ribbon and attaching a small case of water to the bottom. She handed it to me and I took it, but not before slipping a twenty on the counter when she wasn't looking.

"Thanks so much...," I hesitated, not knowing her name.

"Ethel," she said.

"I'm Masen," I introduced myself, "Thank you so much, Ethel. I don't know what I did to deserve such kindness."

She smiled her wrinkly smile at me. "You were the man I couldn't find until I was in my forties. You'll make some woman very happy one day, I can see it now," she said.

"Have a great day," I said with a small wave as she disappeared behind the vase of flowers again.

"You too, Masen."

I hurried to school, arriving just as the bell rang. Hopefully, I could get there with enough time to spare so I could do something drastic. Something that she wouldn't be able to say no to. Something incurably romantic.

I knew just the thing.

Pushing my way through the halls full of people, I made my way to the main office. When I got there, the secretary was hunched over her Sudoku book. I rolled my eyes and waited patiently in front of her desk. Either she didn't notice me, or she was ignoring me, but either way she didn't look up. I tapped my fingers impatiently on the counter top, but she merely blew a bubble in her gum and let it snap.

"Excuse me," I said.

Finally, she glanced upwards. Immediately, her eyes glazed over and she looked dazed. Inwardly, I sighed. Not her, too. She seemed to actually sway in her chair a little, as if I was on the verge of knocking her out, and the only thing I needed to do was poke her, and she'd be on the floor.

Oh, well. At least it should be easy.

"Uhm, can you help me with something?"

"Masen," she said breathlessly. I had to restrain myself from gagging out loud. She was like fifty, with dyed red hair and cat eyed glasses, complete with the chain that lead around her neck. She was straight out of a trashy novel. I had no idea how she knew my name—I certainly didn't know hers—but at the moment, I was going to use it to my advantage.

I smiled crookedly, knowing it would grab her attention and hopefully pry it from my eyes. I was afraid she would see the desperation. It worked. "Am I allowed to use the intercom?" She sighed and her head drooped to the side a little. She was distracted. I leaned towards her a bit more. "Please?" I breathed. Her body was shaking by now, a clear sign that perhaps I laid it on much too thick. I hope she wasn't having a heart attack.

She nodded slightly and pointed to the other side of the room where there was what looked like a phone sitting on a little table beside an older woman who looked to be in her eighties. Tentatively, I made my way over to the little machine. I stared at it for a while before realizing that I had no idea how to work it. I didn't want to mess this up, so I turned to the older lady.

"Excuse me," I said, "Could you help me with this?" I smiled brightly for her dazzling pleasure.

But she wasn't amused. "And who said you could use that?"

My smile dropped as I pointed to the other secretary who was back to playing her Sudoku. The older woman sighed. "Nancy's been pining over you since you came in that first day. You'll have to excuse her poor decision. But I'm afraid we can't let you use that for a personal announcement. Thank you for stopping by, though." Her words quipped with an air of finality.

I sighed, defeated, dropping the hand with the flower in it to my side. So much for my plan of wooing her and announcing that I was waiting for her in the office over the loudspeaker. "You're sure there's no way I can use it?" She hesitated slightly and I immediately took my chance. I took a twenty from my pocket and subtly set it on her desk. Her eyes darted from the twenty and back to me, considering the offer.

"Okay, but I'm going to make the announcement. You tell me what you want me to say, and I'll say it." She stuck the twenty into her pocket. I smiled; she still wanted some sense of pride left.

"Can you just ask for Ms. Swanson to come to the front office, and that she has a friend waiting here for her?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You know I could get fired for this, right?" She sighed as she picked up the phone and started dialing some numbers. "You're incredibly lucky the principal isn't here yet, or there's no way in hell I'd do this." She put the phone up to her ear. "Ms. Swanson, please report to the main office." She glanced at me. "You have someone who would like to see you."

I nodded and smiled. "Thank you so much. Is there any way that you'd be able to give me a late pass?" I asked. She raised an eyebrow and glanced at the place where the twenty had been. "Fair enough," I said as I dished another one out.

$40. But it was worth it.

"Pleasure doing business with you," she said, handing me a late note.

I headed out to the front of the office and decided to wait for her there, daisy in hand. I searched the hallways for her, but saw no sign of her face. I waited for a few more minutes, and still had seen nothing. Maybe she knew it was me and wasn't going to show up...

"OH MY GOSH!" a voice came from my right. I glanced over. A girl that I had never seen before in my life was walking toward me, hands clasped over her mouth in shock. "I knew it! I knew that you liked me. Mindy told me I was stupid, and that you were obviously after her, but I knew it." Her bleach blonde hair was up in a messy ponytail, and too-thick eyeliner encased her dull hazel eyes. This was most definitely not the girl I was looking for.

Had I heard Mr. Lucas wrong when he said to go sit by Ms. Swanson? I didn't even have time to mull it over before she had all but ripped the flower from my hands and planted her lips on mine, not hesitating to stick her germ-infested tongue in my mouth. I gagged, but I think she took it as a sign of acquiescence and she wrapped her tentacle-like arms around me. I put my hands on her shoulders to try and push her away. It took a significant amount of effort on my part, but I was eventually successful.

But what I saw when I broke away from her made my stomach turn.

There was the Ms. Swanson I was looking for, standing there with a shocked look on her face. Her eyebrows were raised and she blinked slowly once before muttering what sounded like an apology and hurrying off the other way, but not before letting me see the incredible blush shade across her face and tears spill forth from her eyes. I pushed the clingy octopus away from me and tried to run after her.

"Wait!" I called. But she had turned a corner, and by the time I got there she had disappeared. "Damn it!" I cursed loudly. Now not only was I out a flower, but some stupid blonde was after me, thinking I actually wanted her. I had never felt so horrible in my life. I could only imagine what that looked like. I didn't know that girl's name.

Well, apparently her last name is Swanson, I mused. I sighed and continued to my next class. I needed another plan. A plan that wouldn't backfire. Only now, I had much more to apologize for than simply falling… well, on top of her.

I spent the rest of the day trying to think of something that couldn't fail. Something that would be romantic, but not too over-the-top. And then when sixth period came—my period with her—I was a bundle of nerves. She would probably think I was some sort of player. Which I wasn't. I was no Virgin Mary, but I was most certainly not a man whore.

She was already there when I walked in, getting out her pencils and notebooks. On my way to my seat, the bell rang, which I was thankful for. It saved me from any awkward conversations between her and I.

Mr. Lucas stood up at the front with a stack of papers in his hands. "Hope you're all ready for your tests today," he said.

Shit. I had completely forgotten about that. I hadn't studied for it at all. I buried my head in my hands. Today was not turning out to be a good day for me. The test was passed back to me, and I stared blankly at the questions, not knowing any answer. I tapped my pencil against the desk a few times, as if that would magically produce a great answer. It didn't.

Maybe if I distracted myself, the answers would come. I glanced over at the beauty seated next to me. She was furiously writing, her tongue sticking out between her two lips. She looked adorable, all concentrated like that. But what could I do to awe her?

I drummed my hands against the desk while I studied her. She probably liked flowers. She looked like she did. And her smell. She smelled like the sweetest flower in existence. I didn't know how I had ever survived without smelling her wonderful scent. If I could just find a flower that smells as wonderful as she did, and just give her a dozen or two. Just enough for the scent to emanate off of it and let her know how amazing she smelled to me.

Way to sound creepy, I thought.

But I sat up straighter as an idea came to me. What if I did get a whole bunch of flowers for her? And then I could do something really special with them… I wandered off in though of all the things that could be possible.

I had narrowed it down to about three ideas when Mr. Lucas made an announcement saying there was only five minutes left. I had to bite my lip from cursing out loud. My paper was as blank as it had been when it was handed to me. I hadn't even written down my name.

What was wrong with me?!

I quickly went through the questions and jotted down answers that seemed sensible. But I had only gotten about halfway through when Mr. Lucas ordered us to put our pencils down and collected our tests. I groaned audibly as I rubbed my hands over my face, ignoring Mr. Lucas as he told us we had the last few minutes of class to ourselves.

"What's wrong?" the silky voice next to me asked.

I peeked at her from the corner of my eye. "Thought you hated me," I muttered.

She shrugged. "Maybe a little. But you look distressed. And as any sensible, warm hearted, person would do, I actually have compassion to make people feel better." Her words spoke small contempt, but her tone was airy light, almost playful.

"But I don't even know your name," I said, bitterly. "What do you care if I'm in a bad mood?"

"I'm Isa," she said. "Isa Swanson. And you're Masen Edwards. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've heard girls talking about you. To be honest, I don't even know what they see in you, besides looks. It all seems a bit shallow to me."

"Thanks?" I wasn't sure how to take that.

"It wasn't really a compliment," she said bluntly. I snorted. "So what's wrong?"

"I've had a bad day," I told her.

She raised an eyebrow. "Didn't look like you were having such a bad day this morning in front of the office." Her demeanor changed completely from a few seconds ago. She lost her nice-ness. And here I thought I had been forgiven.

I groaned again. "You don't know what that was about," I told her. "She wasn't the right—" The bell rang, cutting me off. And then Isa was gone. Isa, I repeated in my head as I gathered my books. Such a pretty name. I wondered what it was short for, if it was short for anything at all. That conversation was all it took for me to decide what I was going to do. And I would do it tonight.

My god, the load of flowers were heavy! When I had gone into the flower shop today, Ethel thought I was crazy when I told her what I wanted to do with the flowers. Understandably, it sounded crazy to anyone that wasn't me. No one could have been this crazed with the feelings I felt toward this woman.

Nevertheless, she had helped me find the perfect flowers. After much explanation, she actually hugged me and said I was the sweetest thing. She picked out the flowers. "Blue Flashes," she had called them. They were a gorgeous flower, usually only found in Europe.

"But you're lucky that the best flower shop in down orders her seeds from around the world," Ethel said to me. I had smiled at that, and proceeded to buy a gross of flowers. That's a dozen dozens. One hundred and forty-four flowers.

$214.78 later, here I was, carrying twelve pots of twelve flowers in a wagon I hadn't used since I was five. But as childish as I felt, I couldn't afford to give up; I was on a mission. A mission that involved me wearing all black, as I was now, and involved a stealthy heist into the dark, cold night that lay ahead of me.

Briskly, I managed to sneak out my house, making sure Mom and Dad were fast asleep, that the alarm was never set correctly to begin with, and that Isabella, my rambunctious dog, was no where near me to mess up my plan. Never had I really been more determined with what I was about to do than I was now; I could handle the incredible soreness seeping into my tired legs. But I couldn't handle failure. Now was not the time to fail.

I had found out the general place where she lived, and I memorized her address for what could have been about a million times; 2435 SE 24th St. I found out where her room was positioned in her house, and exactly how hard it would be to not be caught. I sounded like a complete and utter stalker, bent on professing my interest toward a girl I hardly knew, and who hated me.

The air gushed into my lungs with a cold frost as I peddled on forward toward her house, with the gross of flowers in tow. I really hoped she would finally see how sincere of a person I was, that I wasn't some man-whore who spent his time wooing sluts, and possibly I hoped she would see that I genuinely wanted to ask her out, despite all the troubles I had been. Hoped sounded more like an understatement, though. Prayed to God was a better term.

I continued to jog. I was incredibly grateful that I actually wasn't too much out of shape, and that my legs hadn't become a puddle of jelly.

You can do it, Masen. Do it for the girl!

I scoffed. This was becoming more like a sappy chick flick with each thought that zoomed through my mind.

I finally entered her neighborhood, and began squinting in the darkness to try and decipher the penthouse numbers scrawled in tiny, neat scribe atop the front doors, but I could barely see any of them. In desperation, I resorted to trailing into each and every house's property, making sure I was actually close enough to see the addresses.

2401, no. 2406, no. 2408, not quite.

BARK!

A dog's bark sent adrenaline coursing through my veins, and I immediately high-tailed myself down the street. Behind me, I could hear the faint traces of feet scraping concrete and a dog's whimper, followed by a snobby tone cry in the night, "Damn kids. They ruin my lawn every time!"

I stopped to catch my breath only after I was sure no one was after me. I heaved in large gulps of cold, stinging air into my lungs, only to quickly expel it due to the frigid temperature freezing them.

"Shit." This was not going as planned. I was supposed to find her house with supreme ease, and plant those expensive flowers. But I couldn't even find her damn house, and these flowers were anything but sweet; their weight was the main source of my agitation. I looked up feebly, about to give up entirely, when I noticed the house directly in front of me.

2435. SCORE!

With all the gained momentum I had, I quickly trotted silently on her lawn, looking out for any strange barks or scraping of feet that reverberated into the night. I walked until I found the perfect spot, which she could look out her window in the morning, notice my work of art which I would make especially for her, and come flinging into my arms when she arrived at school. Happily, ever after.

I was under a spell, I just knew it.

I checked my watch and yawned: 3:20. I would not be getting any more sleep if I continued to get lost in my fantasies and not work. I retrieved a small gardening shovel from my back pocket, and with a grunt of pride, began to strike at the lawn.

After about and hour and a half of intense, hard labor, I stepped back, and swatted my brow with the back of my hand, careful not to get any dirt that would be extremely hard to remove from my sweaty face. I eyed my work with incredible satisfaction.

On the ground, in huge, flower induced letters, and facing her window, I had managed to write the most beautiful, eloquent way to charm a girl who was mad at me:

I'm Sorry!

I even managed to put a heart where the apostrophe would be! I was such a genius! If my intentions had been used on anyone else, or perhaps with Isa later in our relationship—or whatever it was we had—I would totally be getting laid.

With my work done, I gladly picked up the plastic flowering pots, grass piles, and gardening tools, and made my way back home, throwing away the evidence.

I only managed to sleep for 3 hours, but in that span of time, I had the best dream; one of Isa laughing in my arms, giving my butterfly kisses on my face, and giving me the best sex of my entire life.

BEEP

I woke up to the annoying sound of my alarm, signaling an end to dreams and a welcoming to the cold reality of school on Monday mornings. I tiredly got myself dressed and ready for school, grabbing a piece of bread on my way out to my car.

The only reason I wasn't dead on the ground was the surprise. But my day already wasn't going so well; I got to school late because of a traffic jam, I failed to do my homework for my first two periods in my heist to "flower" a lawn, and worse of all, Isa was nowhere to be found.

I grumpily trotted on forth to third period, groaning as I realized what class I had: Gym. Don't get my wrong, I love gym. But I was much too exhausted from the wee hours of the morning, and the fact that all the girls would throw themselves at me, show me their cleavage shamelessly as to attest whose prize was better, and bend down to pick things up made gym highly unpleasant. It was disgusting.

I made my way into the men's locker room, greeted by hopeful, perverted young men keen on using my reputation with the girls as a path into their own pants. I nodded casually, still troubled at my thoughts of Isa and whether or not she even saw the flowers.

I hope she saw the flowers.

What if she didn't see them?

Did she like them? Did she hate them?

I hate gym.

Where are you Isa? Are you avoiding me?

"...totally forgiven," was all I heard from Nick, one of the guys in the locker room. "Jennifer suddenly came up to me and was, like, forgiving me completely for catching me with Mandy the other night... Something about how sweet I was for the flowers on her lawn. Dude, I don't even know what she's talking about, but if it means I'm forgiven, then it doesn't matter!" Nick's joyous victory dance triggered me to freeze in my tracks.

Flowers on her lawn? Jennifer?

Oh. No.

This couldn't be. I memorized her address many times! Isa's house was definitely the one I worked on this morning, not some other girl's! I pinched the bridge of my nose in fury as I tried to divulge the mystery behind it.

Suddenly I gasped and mentally slapped myself. In my haste and pride in conceiving what I thought was the most brilliant, romantic plan ever devised, I had checked the old address book. And probably with my horrid luck, Isa no longer lived at 2435 24th St.

Shit.

I finished gym in a haze, unaware of the seductive flirting on behalf of the sluts, and unaware of running along the track, or doing the set of push ups. I was much too disappointed in myself for being such an idiot. I had failed Isa, again. Even though she might not have known it this time, it still hurt. I felt, unnaturally, that scars were being placed on my back, that I was being punished.

And I didn't even understand why I was feeling this way. Why was I suddenly so head over heels for Isa Swanson? Why, when I wasn't even dating, did I feel so obliged to kneel before her, like a dog? I was so confused, and so exhilarated toward those exact feelings at the same time.

I needed to talk to her. That, to me, was the only way I could get her out of my head, or even better, get her to forgive me and go out with me.

I shook myself awake and walked into the halls, toward the cafeteria. I was still in a daze even after I went through the line to purchase my food, and sat down. A cough sounded before me and I looked up sleepily to the most beautiful face I had ever seen. And she looked really pissed.

"What the hell is your problem?" Isa snapped. Her voice rang bells, and I had to control myself to not stand up and simply stroke her face with my fingers. But then I remembered that she was angry with me.

"What did I do this time?" I whined.

"I know you put those flowers in front of Jennifer's house! Her cheater-of-a-boyfriend Nick couldn't be so clever. And you, you obviously have every girl around your pinky nowadays, don't you? Of course you would try and woo her into your man-whorish antics! Don't play dumb with me, Masen Edwards! You might have every one of these girls fooled, but don't think I'm going to stand here and watch you play every one of them!" She heaved in a heavy breath, as if she had spoken in literally one breath.

I was astounded, and irritated that she accused me of being just another guy, eager to get into every girl's pants. I didn't even know Jennifer! Didn't she realize that I did this all for her? That the girl I wanted to ask out was her? That I wanted her forgiveness? Of course she didn't. I failed to tell her a single word of what I thought before she huffed and stomped away in the other direction.

I stood there, guffawed at what just happened. But my erection was back.

When I got to sixth period that day, I sat down next to her and mirrored her actions so my arms were crossed and I was staring at the front, too. Both of us were too stubborn to look at each other. I could pretend I didn't care. Easy. No problem. I glared at the white board at the front so hard I feared I might burn a hole in it. The teacher was talking, but I wasn't absorbing a word he said. I was hyper-aware of her body next to mine, just as frustrated as me.

Finally, I had had enough.

"You know, you didn't have to be so rude," I whispered to her, so as not to disturb the class.

She scoffed. "Me? Rude? How was I rude? You were the one going around trying to get in every girl's pants. Just because I'm the only one that's willing to keep my legs shut doesn't mean that I was rude. Now shut up and listen to the class."

"It's not my fault every girl that goes here is a slut," I defended myself. "I didn't want them. I wasn't after them. I was—"

"Are you calling me a slut?" she said, her eyebrows raised and looking more than pissed.

I rolled my eyes. "If you would just listen for longer than a second and a half—"

"Shh," she cut me off, her eyes so determined to stay focused on the front wall it was almost laughable. But I wasn't laughing, and neither was she. If we were going to get anywhere, she was going to have to hear me out.

"Will you listen?" I asked, turning my body so I faced her more. "Everything I did was for y—"

"Stop talking. I need to focus on the class." She blushed furiously with her face in the direction of the front of the class.

I sighed, frustrated, before turning toward the front again. I was making absolutely no progress, and I would continue on my fast track to no where unless I did something drastic—something that would be sure to catch her attention. If only she weren't so dead-set on listening to this lecture, I was sure I could get my point across.

A slow smile crept across my face as I got an idea.

Mr. Lucas had was still in the middle of asking a question to the class when my hand shot up, cutting him off. He looked a little startled. I couldn't blame him: I'd been more than a little distracted lately.

"Oh. Uhm, yes? Mr. Edwards?"

"I just had something to say," I replied.

His eyebrows furrowed. "Okay? And what's that?"

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what was about to come out of my mouth. I knew I was going to regret this later, but I couldn't bring myself to care so much. "Since Isa here refuses to listen to anything except the class, I am left with no choice but to make my statement part of the lecture," I said with a smile.

"Masen," she hissed. I ignored her.

"Mr. Edwards—" Mr. Lucas warned.

"I wanted to have the ability to tell her all that I've done to try to get her to notice me these past few days. First and foremost, I just wanted her to know that everything—and I mean everything I've done within the past twenty-four hours—which includes everything from paying off the secretary to planting a gross of flowers on what I thought was her front lawn—has been a desperate attempt to get her attention. It's all been for her. Everything." A few 'aw's scattered throughout the room from the desperate girls who had never met a romantic guy.

"Second, I'd like to state how I've been feeling. Because I always feel like an idiot around her. Everything I say comes out wrong, everything I try to do right goes completely haywire and ends up backfiring. And even though I'm crazy not to have just given up yet, I don't care. Because to me, her noticing I'm crazy just means she noticed me."

I stared straight into her eyes before I continued. I wanted her to see exactly how I felt. "Finally, I want to say that I'm sorry. All those things that have happened have been complete freak accidents. Everything was supposed to be for you, but nothing happened as it was supposed to. And for that, I apologize. My intentions were never to make you think I was after anyone else but you. You were the sole purpose and intention, Isa. And I just hope you can find it somewhere in your heart to forgive me," I said. I let out a whoosh of breath, immediately feeling better for letting that whole thing out.

The class was silent for what seemed like ages, in which time what I had just publicly declared hit me like a strong gust of wind, knocking me sideways. I can't believe I just did that.

"Uhm, I'm sorry, that's not the answer I was looking for," Mr. Lucas said slowly.

He continued on with the lecture, as if nothing had happened, and all I wanted was for the universe to swallow me whole.

"Masen," Isa started, her voice apologetic.

"Shh. I want to listen to the class," I said, trying as hard as I could to keep the smile off my face, despite the growing fear in my chest that I had just publicly humiliated myself.

I shouldn't have said anything. No one needed to know everything I went through in order to get through to her. She didn't need to know that I was going to be so adamant about getting her to even so much as look my way.

I sunk down lower in my chair, not taking in a word of anything that Mr. Lucas was saying. I couldn't be here any longer, not with the dozens of pairs of eyes I could feel boring into my back, surprised that I had had the audacity to say that. My eyes closed and I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Why did I always have to embarrass myself in front of her? I immediately regretted every syllable that sounded out of my mouth in the last five minutes. I should never have flared over my irritation and flung my words about carelessly. I could have controlled myself; I had better control than what just happened. It was all my fault.

I hope she doesn't hate me any more than she already does...

I had to get out of this class. I needed to escape this pressure cooker and run far, far away, perhaps to my house, where I could spring onto my bed and collapse in heavy breaths beneath the covers.

But how?

Scenarios began to leap forth toward my mind.

I could create a diversion. I could ball up a blank piece of paper, throw it sneakily toward the door, and, perhaps in hopes that literally everyone's attention would be diverted toward the door, use my cat-like reflexes to spring out of an open window.

I could maybe hope that I simply wasn't important enough to listen, and that in the span of my lecture, each and every one of the students were much too preoccupied to actually conceive what I was even orating! Maybe Isa might have temporary amnesia which lasted, oh, about one minute.

Or I could try and act sick, in turn hoping that I will be able to venture into the nurses office, and then find a way to erase each and every one of the students' memories. I could also gain some super powers and learn to change back into time, where I never said any of those things, and where I never acted like such an ass in the first place.

I suck at plans. And I'm really stupid.

So I waited desperately for the bell, which seemed to wait omniscient-like, smirking at my haste, and making each of the hands upon the clock turn even slower than before.

3, 2, 1...

And as the bell rang, I was the first one out of my seat and lunging towards the door, despite Isa's calls after me. I rushed through the hallways which were now filling up with people towards my car. I just needed a few moments of peace before facing the world again. But as the chilled wind snapped at my face, it brought me back to consciousness and I realized... I had forgotten my textbook in the classroom.

I huffed and turned back on my heel, retracing my steps to the room. It was empty now, with the exception of Mr. Lucas picking up and organizing a few sheets of paper on his desk. He glanced up as I walked in.

"I, uh, left my book."

He nodded and looked back down at his papers. I hurried back to my desk and picked up my book, rushing to the door just as quickly. I didn't want to give him a chance to lecture me about the little speech I had made earlier.

"Masen," he said, just as I reached the doorjamb. I froze and looked over my shoulder. "Your test wasn't so hot." I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized he wasn't going to talk to me about my little outburst.

I nodded, vaguely remembering the test we had taken the day before. It had been hard to focus, and I hadn't finished on time. In fact, I was pretty sure I had left about half of it blank. I cringed.

"Yeah, that was my reaction, too," he said. "Listen, I know you're a good kid and a smart student. I saw your transcript. I know this isn't like you. But I also know that you may need a little help. Would you be interested in a tutor?" he asked.

"I'd very much like that," I said. "I really... I'm a good student. I've just had a lot on my mind lately."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "So I'd noticed." I looked down and tried to ignore the heat that was rushing to my cheeks. "Anyway, I already talked to someone about it. I didn't tell them who you were, just for confidentiality's sake. But I asked if they were interested in tutoring, and they said yes. I told them to go wait in the library for you."

"Thank you," I said.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Edwards."

"You too." I walked out the door and toward the library. Though the large school was still confusing, I had managed to make my way to the library once or twice in the short amount of time I had been at Seattle Prep. So I managed with little difficulty to get to the library.

If it wasn't bad enough that the school was perhaps as large as some moderately sized colleges, I swear the journey to the library could have challenged that of Moses and his journey to save his people. I must have been walking for about 25 minutes, entranced with the large spires and pillars scattered about the commons. There were subtle busts of statues around the halls, and the various sets of paintings simply littered the walls.

I finally reached the library, intent on finding a seat and perhaps rubbing my sore legs, which had become so unnaturally achy due my recent long walks and journeys.

The library was in no way quaint; at best, the space was, well, spacious. The ceiling curved into the shape of a wooden dome, and all around were books and shelves. The entire ambiance was quite unsettling, event for a library; the silence pierced one's ears, with an occasional cough or sigh behind the shelves as the only indication that life existed here. I could feel myself becoming oddly at home in this vestige of stopped time.

I slowly walked around, examining and absorbing as much as I could of the monolithic room; the army of computers on one side, the towering book shelves on the other, reference guides and librarians on a far corner. And yet, through all this intimidating prestige, I knew that this was going to be one of the only places I would be able to think for myself. Away from the sluts, away from the dreary weather of Seattle. Reverting back to my recluse self. Without her stuck in my head.

I wonder if they have any make-out corners here.

STOP IT!

I continued to walk down the aisles, finally spying a few scattered tables and desks in between the forest of paperbacks, like an oasis in between all the chaos and mundane. Almost like a tranquil meadow.

It was fairly empty, save for the select few who seemed to have begun their homework early. Most people had probably already left for home, it being Friday and all. But there was one table that was occupied by a beautiful brunette whose hair cascaded down in front of her face as she hovered over a book. I smiled at Isa, even though she hadn't noticed me.

I tore my gaze from her to glance around to the other tables, looking for my tutor. It looked as though they had decided to leave already. I sighed audibly and turned around, heading toward the front door.

"Masen?" Isa's voice called to me.

I froze. I wasn't sure if I should pretend to ignore her or if I should talk to her. I knew what I wanted to do, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle the rejection she was going to dish at me the second I sat down. No, I knew I wasn't going to be able to handle it.

But I found myself turning around anyway and smiling at her.

"You're the person that Mr. Lucas wanted me to tutor?"

My eyes widened in realization. "He wanted you to tutor me?"

We sat there staring at each other for a long moment. Of course this would happen to me. I felt like I was on a bad Master Card commercial.

Bribing the secretary: $40.

A gross of imported flowers: $214.78.

Finding out that the girl you spent $254.78 on and failed history for is your new tutor? Priceless.

A/N: Google that first daisy that he got her. It's one of the prettiest I've ever seen. Its botanical name is Osteospermum ecklonis. It's the white one, not the pink one. And the ones that he accidentally planted on Jennifer's lawn is the Convolvulus tricolor, also known as the Blue Flash. They're so pretty. :) I hope you know I had a ton of fun looking up these flowers. :)

[BEN]: Hope you liked it! I know i did! So the next chapter will be out on Friday. Review or PM and you will get a snippet of the next chapter (we all know you want to review). I promise we'll try and actually make it come out on Friday, like we always say we do. But yea...Read below.

EXPLANATION BY BEN: Okay. So you're probably wondering one of two things, or perhaps both (or maybe none?):
1. Why is Edward/Masen such a horndog, that this is so OOC? Well, not really. The reason why Edward is so horny in the part that I wrote is because, well, he's a teenager in the here and now...not a vampire. He doesn't have control, he has hormones shooting through his body, and he's met this girl he's attracted to.

2. What does this have to do with WHWHW? The plots are so different... Well, yes, the plots are pretty different, aren't they? But the first couple of chapters are merely setting up the scene for what's to come! I'M SO EXCITED!!!!

IMPORTANT NOTE PLEASE READ!
Okay, so here's the deal. Twilight (as in the movie) comes out November 21st, right? (Duh, Allie.) OKAY. Well here's what sucks. So tickets came on sale today, so obviously I bought some. And as they print out, I take a look at them and it's like "Late Thursday night, November 20th." So I was like SHIT. And I tell my mom and she goes "I don't think I could let you go if it's a school night." So now I'm having a coronary, because I've already spent money on the tickets and I've been planning this night for, oh, I don't know, a year? And so she sees me all panicked and she goes "Fine, I'll talk to your dad." So here's what I need you to do. In your review, I need you to make a small note to my parents saying that I should be able to go. Because if I don't go, I'll likely throw a hissy fit and then the chapters will come out crummy. So really, this affects you about as much as it does me. So PLEASE review, or send a PM to me, telling my mom to let me go. If you do, not only will I give you a shout out in the next chapter, but we'll send you the chapter a day before it premieres to everyone else. Sound good? :)

Until Next time,

BENto box of sushi in a prison filled with tALLIE marks.