AN: I finally have a normal sized chapter. Sorry it took till the third to get it that way. I was writing last night to Beethoven, like I do, and then I realized it was 2 AM. Oops. And I haven't had computer access all day, but now, here it it.

Disclaimer: Do I own Twilight? Nope.

Chapter 3: Conversations

I froze, amazed. Hesitantly, I answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Grey? Um, hi, you might not remember me, but we're, um, in trig together, my name is Hayden?"

OH MY GOD. This couldn't really be happening. This was just too amazing.

"Oh, hi." I tried to think of something clever or funny to say, but all that came out was a sort of mumble that trailed off into awkward silence.

He laughed. I MADE HIM LAUGH! "Well, I just called to, um, check up on, um, what our homework was…?" It was so cute the way he sounded, almost… nervous? How strange…

"Um…" The homework, I had just done it, where did it go? Oh, I was sitting on it. Oops. "It's page 56."

"Oh, right. Thanks." As another awkward entered the phone line, I tried desperately to say anything, anything at all. "Um, so, did you, um, see this week's Grey's Anatomy?" Wait, what? Why would he watch that? That's such a girly show. I mean, Rach's dad watches it too, but still.

After a pause, he answered awkwardly, "No." I was about to blurt out an apology, or that I didn't mean it, or something, but he finished quicker. "I stopped watching it after Meredith died. I mean, I know she didn't die, she couldn't have, but…" Finally realizing what he was saying, he just stopped talking. WOW. A Grey's Anatomy fan? "My sister made me watch it," he said, embarrassed.

"Oh, it's not a bad thing. Have some pride," I teased, finally feeling comfortable with this conversation. "Almost all of my friends are addicted to that show."

"Yeah, but how many of your friends are guys?" he countered. I had to admit, he had a point. But still…

"Well my friend Rachel's dad watches it." She would kill me tomorrow, but it was all worth it for this conversation.

He surprised me, almost to the point of being scared. "Which one is Rachel?"

Wait, he knew who I was, but not her? How did that work? Every guy in our grade knew who she was, and half of them had asked her out. Well, I'd thought.

"Um, she's the blond one, pale, the one who always wears the green nail polish?" Honestly, did he really not recognize her? "You have trig with her too."

He seemed to struggle for a second, so I interrupted the silence with, "You still have no clue who she is, do you?"

"Nope."

"I'll point her out to you sometime," I offered, but immediately regretted it. He would feel obligated to be seen in public with me, seen talking to me. I wouldn't throw that on him, but...

"Sure," he said, a little quickly. "I'd like that."

I smiled, but quickly stopped. I bet he knew who Rach was, but wanted a real introduction. I bet he'd even call her, and talk to her like he is right now to me. I wanted to scream all these accusing thoughts at him, but was stopped from doing so when I heard the "call waiting" beep on my phone.

"I, uh, have a beep. Be right back?" I questioned through clenched teeth.

"Um, sure." He sounded a little scared, probably from the tome of my voice. Good for him. "Should I hang up and call you back in a bit, or will I just see you tomorrow?

I checked the called ID. It was Rach. Perfect. "I'll see you tomorrow. Bye." I hung up quickly, not giving him a chance to say anything else, and pressed the "talk" button again. "Hello?"

"Dina's being obnoxious."

I was so not in the mood to fix their argument, but what could I do? Nothing but make it better, like I always do. "What did Dina do?" Fixing this might be easier if I knew what the problem was.

"She stopped talking."

Oh dear God. That's it? "Rach, how long did you wait for her to talk?"

"Like, thirty seconds."

"And did you say anything?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"No. I hung up," she said bluntly.

"Well, now she'll think you're pissed at her. Smooth, Rach."

"But I am..."

"For thinking of a plot like you told her to?"

This seemed to stump her for a bit, before I heard a muttered, "oh."

"You can just patch things up at school tomorrow." But wait, wasn't I doing something tomorrow? Well duh. Hayden. Oh yeah... "Rach, you'll never guess who just called me!"

"Then don't try to make me," she retorted.

Couldn't she just play along and let me get excited? I took a breath to express this when she interrupted that her parents wanted her off the phone. "I'm sure you can fill me in at school," she added before she hung up. Honestly, didn't anyone say goodbye anymore?

I sighed and tossed the phone on the end of my bed before settling down on my pillows. Turning my laptop down so it was barely hearable, I put on my sketching music: Beethoven's piano sonatas. Don't ask me why, but I always draw better with Beethoven by my side. Frowning, I searched through the half finished drawings scattered on my floor. I didn't feel particularly inspired, but lately I've been forcing myself to draw every night. Digging through my piles of pictures, I found one I'd started of Jacob Black, my favorite subject. I only had his face so far, but he was staring out as if the viewer was Bella, with such fierce adoration in his eyes. I had to say, I was quite proud of it, I actually felt like Bella. As that familiar feeling washed over me, I put down my sketch and grabbed my laptop, turning my music off. I figured Beethoven would forgive me for putting him on pause while I was (hopefully) reading an email from a famous author.

As my inbox loaded, I shut my eyes as tightly as I could, held my breath, and wished deeply for Stephanie Meyer to have emailed me.

I opened my eyes and exhaled slowly. My internet had just died, and with our lovely service, wouldn't be able to work until tomorrow night. That was okay though, I had study hall second period, during which students were allowed to use computers.

Oh well. I put Beethoven back on and started to work on sketching Jake's body.

In about an hour, it had a usable outline, meaning I could add color next. Wow, I yawned while thinking, tomorrow doesn't look so bad.

I leaned over to end Beethoven for the night and turn my light off. Snuggling unto my blanket, I softly wished my cat a goodnight, which was responded with a low purr. I murmured "'Night, Edward," a habit I'd developed since reading Twilight for the first time, years ago. As my eyelids drifted together, I wished for dreamless sleep, so morning would come sooner.

But with my luck, what was the point?

AN: So? I had more fun writing this chapter, was it better?

While I'm here, I'll do some advertising. Forever Lost is another fic I'm working on that my friends won't read. Go read it and make me happy.