Her reaction to such a reasonable request left him agog.
Despite the bunch of losers Edward Cullen was forced to share all his classes with this year, things weren't going too badly for him, he often observed. Popular, charismatic, funny, wealthy, and good-looking—not to toot his own horn—he had fun causing trouble with his boys, and charming the ladies who he often caught staring on the sly.
Esme and Carlisle Cullen had enrolled their son in French-immersion at the early age of six. For the past eleven years he has shared all his classes with the same group of thirty-some kids. His parents were comfortable with all the children they have come to know over his life, but Edward could almost jump out of his skin in anticipation of high school. His parents, on the other hand, were troubled by his attitude.
Many new friendships had been formed in the past two years, and not one could be trusted. Esme had once tried to use her sixth sense parental intuition to feel out what kind of friends her son was associating with, but as she peered into the mischievous eyes of a thirteen year-old, all she was left with was the creepy feeling that the kid had been staring down her shirt the entire time.
One early winter's afternoon, three rows of desks aligned themselves down the middle of a Geography classroom, and there straight in the middle sat Edward, quietly awaiting Mme. Florent to begin her lesson. Amongst him students quietly talked and laughed, while he sat alone, not causing a disturbance for once, other students secretly noted. But Edward sat alone not because he had no friends, oh no, but because he reserved that privilege to only those worthy, and no one in his class was worth much of his time.
This year Edward was grouped into a split class of both grade 8 and 7 French-immersion students. He never really questioned the situation, but heated discussions amongst his parents sometimes gave him a glimpse into all the complexities of being an adult and dealing with government and taxes. The subject bored him to tears, so the two parents were often drowned out by fantasies of cute girls and big boobs, or cute girls that had yet to form boobs, but whom would be put on radar for future inspection.
In front of him a girl almost as obnoxious as himself was draped over a desk attempting to speak to another across the room. The view from the back wasn't a pleasant one, so he was thankful for when she finally sat down as her friend approached.
Even though he disliked almost everyone in his class, there were some exceptions. Jessica Stanley was the girl to his front, she was loud and a bit too crude for his liking, but she was fun. Her friend was Rosalie, she had shiny long dark hair, big plump lips and beautiful green eyes. These were the only two people he could have fun with; they were funny in a cruel sort of way.
"Get your things and just sit beside me," Jessica suggested after a handful of minutes of Rosalie just standing around talking.
Edward was excited about the possibility. Things could get interesting.
He watched as Rosalie moved back to her seat and pulled off all her belongings. Before moving back over to them, she halted and swung around for a brief second to say something to the friend she usually sat beside. Bella Swan was a nice girl, but quiet and shy. Edward had known her since he was eight-years-old. She was amongst the group of French-immersion girls whom he could classify as 'cool'. But this year, he could tell that something was off. Her and Rosalie had begun the school year as the only two members of their clique whom had been stuck into the randomness that was a split class, but as time went by Rosalie often chose to hang out with others, leaving Bella on her own.
His attention shifted focus back to Rosalie whom came marching back over with an expression of incredulity and surprise.
"Bella just called me a bitch!"
For the next ten minutes, even after Mme had began her lesson, Edward, Jessica, and Rosalie gleefully proceeded to mock and provoke a reaction out of Bella. Despite all their attempts, Bella sat like a stone, her back hunched over and her arms folded on top of her desk.
As the small group of children caused a raucous laughing at her expense, with dozens of other students waiting in anticipation for that breaking point of a spectacle they could talk about for days, Bella sat paralyzed. Grateful that she had chosen a seat at the front corner side of the classroom, looking out onto the snowy field, unbeknownst to anyone but the teacher, Bella sat with eyes so glassy, it was a miracle that no tears happen to fall or any soul receive the satisfaction of her embarrassment.
AN: I'm still waiting for my first review. I don't much like these types of stories myself, but I don't know how to write anything else.