Hey guys! Soo, it's here, finally! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it! Please, please, please give me some feedback! I want to know that I'm doing a good job with this! And what I can do to fix it if I'm not! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or Nickelback or Alanis Morissette or anything affiliated with them! :)

Bella P.O.V.

Okay, so in retrospect, I probably should have known that there was some type of punishment in store for me. I mean, who could get away with something like that scotch free? But still. Could Grandpa have come up with a worse torture?

I should have seen it coming. Even though we had our short moment of reconciliation, it was short-lived for my grandfather. After telling them everything that had happened that day at the salon, Grandpa got this evil gleam in his eye. I knew exactly what that meant. He had come up with the perfect punishment.

From that day onwards, my life turned into a different kind of hell.

First, he cut my hair. I kid you not. He hacked and chopped until my long-ish mane was reduced to a wimpy-looking bob, something I thought was best suited for more studious girls. Grandma fixed it up so I didn't look like a boy, but it was still God-awful.

But that was only the beginning. After that, he made me go apologize to Rosalie in person, who actually took it better than I thought she was going to. She complimented my new look and kept snipping away at some customer's hair, pretty much ignoring me.

Then came the worst part.

Grandma had been in contact with Edward and Emmett's parents, obviously, since they did help with the yard work from time to time. So Grandpa got the number, called up Mrs. Cullen, and asked her for a favor.

My punishment was to go over to the Cullen house and clean the whole upstairs, every day – for two fucking weeks. Need I mention that the upstairs included Edward's room?

So there I was, sitting in the living room, waiting for Edward to come over and get me so he could walk me to his house. Yes, that's right; that was part of the deal, too. They couldn't risk me running off again like the last time. He had been the one to ferry me from house to house for the first two days I'd been doing this.

I remembered asking my grandpa how this was a legitimate punishment, and I hated his stupid, simple response.

"Well, since you seem to dislike the Cullens so much, there isn't a much better way to motivate you to behave," he had said, sickeningly smug.

Fuck you, Grandpa, I thought. But of course I didn't say it. He was turning out to be an even bigger asshole than I thought, though. Grandma kept giving him looks, like she didn't even recognize him. She didn't agree with the punishment. Thought it was too weird for me to be cleaning some people's house without adult supervision, since both of the Cullen parents were at work or some other event when I went over there.

As if my situation wasn't bad enough, I had to deal with the guilt of getting Jasper into trouble again. I felt extremely bad about what happened, since it was my childish whims that had brought him to Phoenix in the first place. He had taken his shower, and then he was made to sit on the couch watching some sport with my Grandpa. When his mom came and got him, I waved at her, and she looked like she wanted to rip my head off. That woman scared me. I assume that the reason he hadn't answered my calls was because they were giving him a punishment, too, though there was no doubt that it would be ten times worse than mine. His parents were horribly strict.

It suddenly occurred to me that he hadn't even said anything to Edward about leaving me alone, although I didn't think that it mattered anymore; Jasper wouldn't be able to intimidate Edward, anyway. They sort of knew each other. Once you knew Jasper, you knew that he was pretty much a pacifist.

The door bell rang, and I felt a large part of my soul wither away. I had been cleaning the Cullen house for two days, and during those forty-eight hours I had learned one thing: Edward loved dirtying up his room just so I could clean it.

I got up and answered it, and of course, there was Edward, his grin wider than it was the day before. I made a face at him and silently closed the door behind me, locking it.

"Hello, Isabella," he chuckled at my full name, and the fact that he had figured out that it pissed me off when people used it. "Ready to clean my quarters?"

I didn't answer for a number of reasons. One, if I was rude to him, he was to tell his mom and she would notify my grandma. Which was really dumb. I mean, seriously – it's not like I was the only one who started the fights. There was no way for me to prove that he egged me on, though. Two, who the hell used the word "quarters" to describe their room?

Once we were over at his house, I gritted my teeth against the smell of bleach and flowers that absolutely covered the front and living rooms. It got more and more unbearable every time I went over there.

I pinched my nose with one hand, and Edward rolled his eyes at me.

"This is what a house is supposed to smell like," he muttered, taking off his shoes at the doorway.

That was another thing. His mother was totally anal – made everyone take off their shoes before coming into the house; I even saw her spray the trash can in the kitchen with air freshener. Not kidding.

"As opposed to what?" I retorted, unable to help myself with responding.

He smiled. "As opposed to smelling like old people and sweat."

Fine, he got me there. I had nothing to say to that as I slipped off my tennis shoes and followed him up the stairs and to his room.

Just saying, I hate walking behind people on the stairs. Because out of habit I keep back, but then their ass is right in my face. So with Edward, I stayed back even farther, to the point that he was waiting for me at the top of the stairs as I hurried up the rest.

When it was clean, his room usually looked pretty nice. He had a twin bed, which frankly was too small for him, and a medium-sized TV with an Xbox hooked up to it. He had this thing for records, and owned a lot of them, piles and piles all over his desk and shelves. His walls were white, and taped to them were all sorts of random clips from newspapers, magazines, and things I thought he had drawn himself. He had a desk, a dresser, and a metal safe he always had locked.

He opened the door to his room and I wanted to throw up.

The records were nowhere to be seen. Of course, he hides his precious belongings when he wreaks the worst havoc I've ever seen in a bedroom. His trashcan was dumped over, tons of odds and ends pieces of trash strewn all over the floor, and even on his desk. A can of soda was dumped onto the carpet, some of it splattered onto the wall, which meant that I was going to have to get out the steam cleaner. Something made of glass was broken in one corner, some kind of questionable gray powder was everywhere, and it smelled disgusting. To top the whole thing off, he had actually drawn on the wall with a crayon. And right in front of me sat the usual box overflowing with cleaning supplies. My stomach clenched painfully in anxiety.

"Edward, there's no way in hell-" I began, but he practically forced me into the room and closed the door behind me, laughing. I was about to open it back up and kick him hard when I heard the firm but subtle click of the lock.

"You asshole!" I screamed, kicking his door. I didn't hear a response.

I turned around and stared at the room before me. Even though I was seeing it, I didn't really believe it. Why would Edward go through all of the trouble just to make my life harder? Oh yeah. Because he was a cocky bastard.

Well, the faster I get this over with, the faster I can get the rest of the upstairs done. On the first day, my initial instinct had been to try and get out through his window. But when I had opened it and looked out, there was a rusty bike below, practically melted into the side of the house. Plus, it was on the second story. I may have been desperate, but I wasn't suicidal.

Besides that, I was used to cleaning. My dad always had something for me to spit-shine when I used the wrong tone with him.

I was just putting my hair up into a meager pony-stump when the door behind me clicked and opened. My eyes widened, and I froze; Edward usually didn't come in while I was cleaning, and the day before he had even ignored me when I had finished, making me wait for around twenty minutes before he finally decided to let me out. Crossing my arms and assuming my very best fuck-you face, I turned and my eyes landed on a grinning Emmett.

"Um," I said articulately.

"Yo, wassup?" He laughed and walked in, closing the door behind him. His eyes bugged out when he saw his brother's room. "Holy hell!"

I huffed. "Why are you here?"

He looked me up and down, a movement that made me squirm a little, which may have been his intention. "You're cranky. I don't like girls when they're cranky. They get all hissy."

"Well sorry, but you just happen to be one of the assholes who ratted me out."

Holding up his hands, he said, "I was simply the designated driver. I had no part whatsoever in the plotting action. That was all Alice and Ed." He let his hands fall and leaned against the wall, seemingly relaxed. I was the opposite. I was so rigid that if someone had touched me at that moment, then I probably would have broken in half. Something about Emmett's presence unnerved me, and it wasn't just because of his size, which was imposing enough.

It was because he was too damn nice.

"I'm here to make a truce," he announced.

My upper lip twitched a little in disgust. "Like I'll ever forgive them." I don't know why I purposefully left Emmett out of my snarl. But once again, he was just so accepting, no matter what, so I felt like I had to reconcile that with something. His kindness was slightly disturbing, not to mention it made me feel like a roaring bitch by comparison.

Emmett nodded at my statement and crossed his arms, mimicking my pose. "I kinda figured. But I wasn't talking about for those two. I was talking about for me. I don't want to get that face every time I see you anymore."

"What face?"

"The face you're making right now."

"I'm not making a face."

"Then that's just your face? Man, did you have a childhood? Where's all your happiness?" He asked, stepping toward me a little bit.

I tried not to take his questions personally, but it still hurt a little. "It's somewhere back in the space-time-continuum, probably when I was in kindergarten. Then happiness pretty much stopped, until I met him, my friend Jasper. He's the only one who can make me laugh."

Then I was taken aback, because Emmett made the weirdest face at me I'd ever seen, with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his eyes crossing, and I couldn't help it; I busted out laughing.

He grinned. "Ha. Made you laugh."

I rolled my eyes, but allowed myself a small smile.

He rolled up his sleeves, flexing his arms. "Okay, I'm ready. What can I do to help in here?"

"Help?"

"Yeah, you know, it's when one human being does another human being a kindness by assisting them in something that may possibly be too much for just one human being to handle. Have you heard of such a concept? It's all the rage in Kansas." He picked up a rag and started digging around in the box of supplies for something.

I started to defend myself. "But, this is my job, and you don't have to-"

He straightened up and looked at me, no longer smiling. "Truthfully, I think this whole 'punishment' thing is stupid. There's no point in having to torture you to get you to behave. Seriously. And look at this shit," he gestured to the rest of the room. "My little brother is treating you like crap!"

I'd only ever seen Emmett happy before. He was getting kinda riled up, and it was weirding me out a little. "No, um, just-"

"And you know what I noticed about you, Bella? You are actually nice. You try to be tough and bitchy, but I saw how it just slipped right off when Jasper was around. It can't just be him."

I furrowed my brow. "I'm me. There's no nice or bitchy." I uncrossed my arms. "And besides that, this is my job. I tried to get out of this stupid place, and I got caught – by your brother. Truthfully, if our positions were reversed, I probably would have been just as cruel as he's being right now."I allowed myself a grin. "After all, it is kinda my fault that he got stuck in the bars."

Emmett cracked a grin, and threw his head back as he laughed. "Man, that was classic! I don't think you've heard, but I keep calling him Pooh Bear because of it! Ha!"

I furrowed my brow and shook my head in confusion. "Sorry, I don't see the relevance."

"Didn't you ever watch Winnie the Pooh as a kid?"

"Not really."

He looked so sad for a second, I almost felt bad for him, but then I realized that it wasn't sadness; it was pity on his face.

"You poor kid!" He cried, coming towards me with his arms spread wide. "You need a hug!"

"Oh my God!" I yelled, darting out of the way. "I most definitely do not need a hug!"

He got a mischievous gleam in his eye and kept coming at me. "Oh, yes you do!"

I squealed uncharacteristically and ran towards the door. I was laughing as I opened it, feeling girly for once as I ran from Emmett's hug. I was feeling free, but not like I had after leaving the salon, not like I was free from a cage. I think it was more like I was free from being myself.

But then I saw Edward standing on the other side of the door with a strange expression on his face. I couldn't stop my momentum before I collided into him, his eyes widening for one second as I slammed into him. Then we were both sprawled on the floor, me having smacked my head painfully on his shoulder, and him having hit his own head on the wall opposite his bedroom door.

"Owww," we both groaned. I sat back on my heels, and rubbed my forehead. I added that to my growing list of injuries.

He had his eyes closed, but muttered, "What the hell?"

I sighed, "Yeah, seriously. What the hell were you doing outside the door like a creeper?"

His eyes snapped open, and he pushed himself onto his elbows. "I was wondering what the hell you two were making all the noise for. It sounded like you were having a lot of fun," he added, his eyes gleaming with sarcasm.

Emmett laughed, and I felt his hand on my shoulder, pulling me off the ground. "We were having a blast!" He hugged me suddenly, and I was enveloped in his big, warm arms, my heart clenching.

I couldn't remember the last time a boy had hugged me, not even Jasper, since we weren't very touchy-feely. It was warm, and a slow feeling of being safe seeped into me like Emmett radiated protectiveness. I felt my face flush slightly.

Now don't get me wrong, it wasn't like I had a crush on Emmett, seriously. I was just being reminded, in that one hug, how much I was starved for affection. It was sad, actually.

Edward stood up just as Emmett released me. "That was interesting," he said, raising one of his eyebrows. "I didn't know you two were so close."

"We're getting there, Pooh Bear!" Emmett boomed, laughing and patting me on the shoulder.

Edward cringed at the name. "Don't call me that," he hissed, spinning on his heels and walking away. I couldn't help but watch his tall form tromp away, almost like a petulant child. His hands were clutched into fists, the veins sticking out.

Emmett chuckled, walking back into Edward's room. "That'll get rid of him for a while," he noted as I followed him back in. I closed the door, feeling better with it that way.

I sighed again, something I noticed I did a lot around the Cullens. Then Emmett and I got to work on the hell-hole of a room Edward had prepared. We steam-cleaned the soda and, after it was dry, vacuumed up the gray powder, which Emmett explained to be dust previously sucked up earlier in the week by their mom. He took care of the broken glass, which he wanted to put under his brother's blankets, but I just laughed and he threw it away. I dusted his desk and scrubbed the crayon and soda off the wall. I also discovered the source of the smell, which was a rotten sandwich under his bed.

After we were done, it had taken about a third of the time it would have taken me all by myself. I smiled at our hard work.

Emmett stretched. "I don't know how my mom can do this kind of thing all day!"

I started loading the cleaning supplies into the box so that we could take it with us when we moved to another room. "Where is your mom, anyway? I only saw her the first day I was here."

He scratched the back of his head, like he was uncomfortable. "She's a psychiatrist. She has a lot of people she talks to, pretty much every day. I think that was her day off, when you came."

"All she did was clean the downstairs," I said, hefting up the box.

"Let me get that," Emmett said, taking it from my arms and heading for the door. "Yeah, she either works, cleans, or sleeps. There's not much else."

It sounded like he didn't really want to talk about it, but I was curious; I didn't know much about the Cullen parents. They were like a mystery, especially Carlisle, who I hadn't even seen. As I opened the door for Emmett, I asked, "What about your dad?"

He shook his head. "Hardly here. He's always away on business." He set down the box in the next room, which was his own. "Hey, I can handle my own place. Why don't you go have a break for a while," he offered.

I felt guilty enough that he had helped me do my job, and now he wanted to do one of the rooms all by himself. I guess that was understandable, though. I wouldn't really be comfortable with someone cleaning my room for me, either. I nodded at his suggestion and walked down the hall, wondering what I could do. I wasn't really hungry, and I didn't like the idea of snooping around in their kitchen.

I grinned as I got the perfect idea. I think it was time to bug Edward.

Nearly skipping with giddiness down the hall, I found him where he always lounged while I was there – in the office, which I assumed was Carlisle's. He sat behind the desk, his arms folded and his head resting on them. I grinned, and walked in, excited to bother him.

Edward P.O.V.

I heard the door close and groaned loudly. "Emmett, if this is another one of your damn talks, I don't want to hear it."

"Well, if I was Emmett, it probably would be, just to piss you off."

My blood turned into ice as I raised my head from my father's desk, my tired eyes landing on a very smug-looking Bella. "What are you doing in here?" I nearly growled.

She smiled and sat in the leather arm chair in the corner, making herself a little too comfortable. "I'm taking a break. Emmett's cleaning his room by himself, and he told me to relax a little." She stretched her arms over her head and put them behind her head, crossing one leg over the other, fully pissing me off. She had a way of worming herself under my skin, something I tried to copy and force onto her, but I doubted I did it as well as she did.

Either that or she was better had hiding her anger than I was.

"Get out," I ordered her harshly.

"But I'm supposed to be here!" She said innocently. "I probably would have been out of here sooner if you hadn't trashed your room." She pointed out. Damn Emmett. Times like this were the motivations behind me locking her in my room.

"I did that to get back at you," I retorted.

"For what?" She asked, suddenly angry. "Didn't you already get back at me for everything I've ever done to you? What about the things you've done to me?"

I rolled my eyes and was about to tell her that there wasn't anything I had done to her, but she silenced me with two words:

"The kiss?"

I blanched, standing up. "That was when you first got here! It doesn't even amount to what you've tortured me with?"

She stood up, too, yelling. "What on earth could I have possibly done to you! I didn't do squat!"

I opened my mouth to tell her exactly what she did, but I held myself back. If she knew, it would only give her more ammunition than she needed to get to me.

I couldn't possibly tell her that I was coming to feel sorry for her, that I had seen her smiling with Emmett and felt slightly jealous that he could get along with her so easily and that she so obviously despised me. She might not have believed me, anyway, with her untrusting tendencies.

"Just go," I sighed, sitting down again. It wasn't worth arguing over.

She huffed, putting her hands on her hips. She definitely didn't want to stop our argument. Sometimes I truly think she enjoyed fighting with people, for some twisted reason. I could never fully figure Bella out; she was constantly surprising me, keeping me on my toes.

Which she did again. As she looked around the office, her eyes landed on my father's impressive stereo system, and her face instantly brightened, like a little girl spotting a puppy in a pet store. She nearly ran over to it, looking at the shelf above it, littered with CDs.

"This is awesome!" She said, seeming to have forgotten my telling her to leave. She turned to look at me, and asked, "Can I touch it?"

I smirked. "Go ahead. It's my dad's." I knew he wouldn't mind, anyway. Plus, It was interesting for me to see Bella getting so childishly animated about something. She read through the CD titles quickly and turned on the stereo, making a selection and putting it in.

I didn't recognize the rock song that started playing, but she looked back at me and started humming. "I love this song! Your dad has good taste!" She exclaimed.

I wondered how she had changed so quickly. One second she was fighting with me about which one of us was more horrible to the other, and the next she was smiling from ear to ear, bobbing her head up and down. It was weird. Bella Swan was a constant mystery.

"I didn't know you like music," I said, and she turned down the volume, looking at the CDs again.

"I love music," she sighed, plucking another disk from the shelf. "Wow. Your dad is weird," she said, turning around and showing me the cover. It was a hand, with tiny words making circles around and around it. "I didn't know there was a grown man in existence that enjoys Alanis Morissette."

I laughed. "That's probably Alice's. She uses Dad's system when she wants to be obnoxious to everyone in the house, so sometimes she leaves her stuff in here."

Bella made a face at the mention of Alice and replaced the CD.

Crap. I had said the wrong thing. "Um, you know, you should probably forgive Alice."

She gave me a face that said, No thanks, and she continued browsing through the collection of music. Something told me that I wasn't going to get anything else out of her on the subject, so I dropped it. I also suspected that she didn't forgive me, either, but I wasn't sure. I would ask Emmett what he thought after she went home.

We sat there for what felt like hours, me relaxing, listening to Bella humming along with the songs she played. She never let one play for long, always skipping to the next impatiently. Sometimes she would dance, other times she would catch a few seconds of the opening and snort, like she knew exactly what was coming. I'd never seen anyone get so immersed in music before. It made me envy her, simply because I had been the same, at one time.

The moment to me felt like bonding, which was both strange and welcome. Bella gave me mixed feelings; there were instances when I wanted her to stop hating me, although mostly she made me want to piss her off. I think I pulled that off pretty nicely, especially with my room. I probably wouldn't be doing it again, though – it didn't do much good if Emmett was helping her, anyway.

I hadn't realized that I had fallen asleep until I started awake, looking around the room in a daze. The clock read 6:00 P.M. I had slept for hours.

I rubbed my face with my hands tiredly and noticed that Bella was gone, and the stereo was still playing. I recognized it instantly, because it was one of my old CDs that I was pretty sure had been in my desk drawer; the song was Savin' Me, by Nickelback.

At that time, I didn't really know what she had meant by it. The song was on repeat, but I figured she had selected it just because it's a good song. Now I know otherwise.

Thanks for reading! And seriously, please let me know if I'm not doing a good job!

Asta-la-bye-bye!