The makeshift study lounge is nothing more than a large closet with a small couch and a couple bean bags inside. Reluctantly, I plop down onto the old orange couch; its stiff springs uncomfortably poke me through the worn fabric. Jacob closes the door behind him before sitting, rather closely, next to me. With the door closed, the room is eerily secluded.

"Damn, I forgot my history book in my locker," Jacob says with mock sincerity.

"Unprepared again. Why am I not surprised?"

"I'm unprepared 'cause my fuck of a father wouldn't let me in the house this morning. Ever had that problem, Princess?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." I'm almost too stunned to answer, but somehow, I whisper the words. I couldn't believe what he had said. I feel absolutely terrible for him but suddenly the whole morning makes sense. The reason he didn't have a pencil in first hour and was angry when I pointed it out, the reason he didn't take notes, or carry his books.

"It's all right," he lightheartedly adds. "I can just share with you." Jacob moves his leg flush with mine while draping his arm around my shoulders. I hastily shrug him off, scooting as far from him as possible, which is only a few inches before I'm pressed against the armrest of the couch. "Do you mind? I have a boyfriend."

He leans in, whispering in my ear, "Good. I like competition."

I laugh without humor, "There is no competition."

Jacob's grin widens, "So I've already won."

Ugh!

He's so arrogantly confident and still uncomfortably close to me. I start flipping through the pages of my book just so I have an excuse to ignore him. I had begun to feel sorry for him, to understand why he'd been such an ass this morning, but the way he's acting now is inexcusable. I gave him a pencil, I gave him some paper, and I'm helping him now. What right did he have to be so insatiable?

"Could we just get started on these study questions, please? I'd like to get them done before tonight."

"What's the rush?" He leans back, folding his hands behind his head, "Big plans with the boyfriend tonight?"

"Maybe," I say with a shrug, though I probably wouldn't see Edward tonight, not unless I get these questions done.

Jacob studies me a moment, brows furrowed. I look back at him, raising my own in question.

Finally, he asks, "So, this boyfriend, do I know him?"

"You should; he's in the same class as you, Edward Cullen." You just shoulder bumped him in the hallway not even fifteen minutes ago.

"Oh, yeah, I know Edward," he smiles. "Average height, messy hair, total douche."

"He is not." He ignores me.

"Does he love you?"

"What?"

He rolls his eyes, "Does he love you?"

"Yes," I answer definitely, slightly puzzled by his question.

"Do you love him?"

My mouth opens, but I hesitate.

"Hmm, I thought so. You don't."

"I never said I didn't love him," I point out. Why is he asking this?

"You didn't say you did either."

I become irrationally angry. How dare he come in here and try to tell me how I feel! What right does he have? Is this what he wants? To make me angry? It certainly seems like he's trying.

"What do you care anyway?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. I stand up and walk to the opposite wall, getting as far away from him as I could, which, unfortunately, is only about four feet in this small broom-closet of an office.

"I don't. I just heard that poor bastard telling you he loved you outside of English. It was pretty funny when you just walked away from him."

Jacob saw that? Of course he had, I had forgotten he followed me into the classroom, sitting next to me almost immediately.

"I don't expect you to understand. But Edward does." I hope.

"He understands? You must not have seen the look on his face."

My heart constricts at the thought of hurting my sweet Edward. I never want to hurt him.

"What's the matter with you anyway? Why can't you say those three little words?"

"It's not that I can't. It's just that I don't want to share that with him yet."

"Why not? He says he loves you, you say it back; big deal."

"It is a big deal. I think telling someone you love them should be…" I struggle to find the right words. "…the pinnacle of the relationship, signifying that you're ready for that next level of commitment." I cringe; I sound like I'm reading out of a textbook, straight out of the How to Sound Socially Awkward handbook.

Jacob's eyebrows furrow, "Are you telling me that you're a virgin?"

"Excuse me?" My voice squeaks.

"You are, aren't you? Huh, and I thought you cheerleaders were all easy."

"I am not-" I start, but I can't finish. He'll know I'm lying even if I did. Of course I'm a virgin. It's called making love for a reason. I'm not even sure I'm in love yet.

That doesn't mean this is something I'm going to discuss with Jacob.

"That's not any of your business," I finally finish.

"That poor bastard. If you were my girlfriend, I would've nailed you by now."

"I doubt that."

"How long have you been with him?"

My fingers suddenly become very interesting as I shift my weight, "Eighteen months."

Jacob lets out a low whistle. "I could've had you in three."

"Don't bet on it."

"Is that a challenge?" He stands slowly, his intense eyes narrowing. My breathing stalls as he stalks toward me like a predator stalking its prey.

Is it me? Or did it suddenly get hot in here?

"I bet in three months…" He places his hands on each side of me, pinning me to the brick wall. "…I'll have you screaming my name."

I'm desperately fighting the urge to crumble under his domineering gaze. He's towering above me, trying to make me feel vulnerable. I couldn't let him see it's working.

"While running in the opposite direction? Possibly." I hope my voice is as steady as I want it to be.

Jacob starts running his index finger up the side of my arm. "Come on, Princess. Make a bet with me. You're so sure that I don't have a chance."

I scoff, jerking my arm away from him. What is the matter with him? He can't really think that I would do such a thing. I don't even like him! I have a boyfriend! Does he really think he is so attractive that I would jump at the chance to have him? I don't think so.

Placing my hands on his chest, I try unsuccessfully to push him away. It only provokes him more. His hard as rock body doesn't move back, just closer. Resting his elbows beside my head, he leans against me; my hands on his chest are the only barrier between us.

"Three months." His tongue wets his bottom lip, followed by his teeth, biting down provocatively. "That's all the time I need, and you'll be begging me to fuck you."

Rolling my eyes, I futilely push against his chest again; he still doesn't budge.

"Please. Like I could ever fall in love with you." I'm proud of myself; on the inside I'm crumbling, my mind is screaming that he's too close, that Edward would not be happy if he saw this, and yet on the outside, I'm still able to retort back assertively.

"Who's talking about love? I just said fuck; hot, sweaty, animalistic fucking. If you fall in love with me, that's your problem."

"I'm saving sex for love."

"Come on, Princess, picture it," his husky voice whispers, "I bet you'd like it gentle, sweet even. I can do that. I'll start by running my fingers through your hair…" He demonstrates by threading them into my hair at my temple. "…while gently nibbling your jaw, your neck, your shoulders…" His hand ghosts along the nape of my neck, "…then slowly remove every article of clothing, until there's nothing separating the two of us, just skin…" He's lightly trailing his fingers down my cheek. "…touching…" He brushes under my chin. "…skin." My eyes are locked with his. "Then I'll kiss every inch of your perfectly naked body," an involuntary shudder runs through me. He continues, unfazed, "Starting here…" His thumb caresses my bottom lip. "…and ending down…there." I stop breathing.

A devilish smile crosses his lips as I tell myself what he said was disgusting, that nothing about that was seductive, and I'm not turned on. But I know I'm lying; the moisture in my panties could attest to that.

"You know you want it, Princess."

No, I can't let him do this to me. He's a player, a womanizer. How many times has he done this same thing to other women? I could shudder at the thought. I refuse to be his next conquest. I can beat him at his own game; I just have to ignore the butterflies in my stomach and find my anger to use it against him.

I move my hands up to either side of his face. Standing on my tip toes, I lean in. "What I want," I whisper, copying his husky tone. Closing the distance between us, I bring my lips closer to his. "What I need is for you to…" I tilt my head to his ear, "…back off."

I lean back against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest as I sneer at him. His sexy expression from a minute ago is gone; I can't make out the one he is wearing now.

"If you're so sure you can resist me, then why not make the bet? What do you have to lose?"

"My virginity apparently," I snap back. The corner of his mouth rises, tilting his grin cockily.

"So it's a bet?"

I look away from him and back again, as if I'm considering it. "If you win, you get my virginity. What would I get for winning?" I'm not agreeing to this (that would be absurd); I'm just curious what he could offer me that would make him think that I'd want to.

He inclines his head closer, his warm breath tickling my skin. Touching his lips to the shell of my ear, he whispers, "You mean besides the pleasures of being seduced by me and my long, hard-"

"Yes, besides that." I cut him off before he says something crude. He leans back again, staring at me. I hope my eyes look like they are heated with anger and not passion.

"I was gonna say my hard-earned sexual expertise, but I like the way you think, Princess."

"You're disgusting."

"I'm not the one jumping to perverse conclusions. Although…" He cocked an eyebrow. "I can guarantee you've never seen a cock as big as mine." Instinctively biting my lip, I scowl and look away.

"You have got to be shitting me." He searches my face, wide-eyed. "You mean to tell me you've never seen your boyfriend's dick? Are you sure he's not gay?"

My eyes snap back to his furiously.

"Jesus, you really are a good girl," he whispers, more to himself than to me. "You've never seen a dick before?" When I don't respond, he moves his hand to the top button of his jeans. "Well, I can take care of that."

"If you whip that thing out, I swear to God I will scream!"

"Oh, it'll have you screaming all right," he smiles devilishly, but his hand moves back up to the wall. "What about you, Princess? How far have you let the boyfriend go? Hmm?" Turning my gaze to a spot on the opposite wall, I try to block out his husky whisperings. "Has he felt you up? Have you let him feel under your shirt and over the bra? Has he removed the shirt? The bra? Hands sliding south…under the jeans, over the panties, fingers slipping under the elastic-"

"Shut up." I can feel my cheeks burning crimson.

"That far, huh? Maybe he's not gay; maybe you're just a prude. I could change that if you-"

"I'm not going to make a bet with you, so you can just forget it."

"Why, because you're scared to? Admit it; you're so sure that I could never seduce you, but you won't agree to this little bet because you're scared that you'll actually like me."

"I don't like you." The problem is I can't tell if I'm trying to convince him or myself.

"Are you sure? Those pretty little lips say one thing, but your body says another."

I look down; our bodies are flush up against one another. My hands have somehow found purchase on his chest again, close to resting on his shoulders. I snap them back quickly; a heat rushes to my cheeks for about the hundredth time today.

"Hmm, I wonder just how far that blush goes," he thinks aloud.

"You'll never know," I counter back. The ghost of a pirate smile lingers as he leans further toward me, his arms wrapping around my waist, bowing my body towards his. I can feel his warm breath on my lips.

He is going to kiss me. Oh, God, I want him to kiss me.

"Bet me, and we'll find out." He hovers, waiting for me to agree to this ridiculous bet. If I answer yes, he'll kiss me; if I answer no, I don't know what he'll do. Probably kiss me anyway.

Part of me knows how wrong this is. There's a little voice inside my head screaming, Edward, Edward, Edward, while another part of me is rationalizing that this is all some sick twisted game Jacob is playing. He doesn't really like me; I'm just another conquest to him. Then there is this third part that's telling the other two parts to shut up and let him kiss me. But I am better than that.

"You never told me what I'd win."

"What do you want?"

"Your bike." Ha! Take that. He'll never agree. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's his pride for his motorcycle. Dropping his arms, he pulls back, chuckling but leaving enough room between us that I could escape; yet, I find myself rooted to the spot.

"You want to bet me my bike?" he asks incredulously. Pride shoots its way through me; I have actually surprised him. Jacob, this arrogant, cocky, confident boy is taken aback by me.

"Why not? You want to bet me my virginity. The way I see it, your bike's the most important thing to you, and my virginity is a pretty damn important thing to me. It's only fair."

"Can you even drive a motorcycle?"

"I can learn." He takes another step back, looking at me and thoughtfully rubbing his hand along his jaw.

"What's the matter? Doubting your skills? Scared you'll lose your bike?"

His eyebrows shoot up but he doesn't respond.

"Just as I thought, you're all talk."

His eyes flash; snatching my wrist, he yanks me towards him. A small yelp escapes me. Crushing his body up against mine, he tightly winds a fist into my hair, his other hand on my lower back anchoring me to him. His body slides against mine as he brushes his nose and lips across my cheekbone. Slowly and sensually, he drifts toward my ear and down to my jaw. Parting his lips, his moist, hot breath caresses my sensitive skin, flowing down my neck, causing me to shiver. While slowly, oh so slowly, he glides to my shoulder. Never once does he kiss me; there's nothing but the feel of his lips caressing my skin. I have never felt anything like it. He raises his head, eyes leveling with mine. The ghost of his touch still tingles on my skin, his lips so close I can almost feel them. Then he laughs aloud. Laughs.

That's when I realize what he's done and what I've done in return. My hands are laced behind his neck, my head tilted back and my eyes have drifted half-closed.

He has seduced me. He's proven that he can do it. I've let him do it.

Oh, he is so on.

I shove his body back with all my power. I must've taken him off guard because he actually stumbles back a step.

"Fine, it's a bet," I snap.

"My bike against your virginity," he adds, sticking his hand out to mine. Still angry, I take it in a firm shake. "Three months. That's what? Thanksgiving break?"

Wait.

Did I just agree to this ridiculous thing?

Numbly, I nod in return.

"All right, I have until Thanksgiving break. Let's go over the conditions."

"Conditions?" My voice is much smaller than it had been before.

He wants to come up with conditions? I am in way over my head. This bet is too serious for him. He doesn't want to lose his bike any more than I want to lose my virginity. Not that I really want his bike anyway.

"No cheating. You can't give it up to the boyfriend before then."

I feel a wave of guilt at the mention of Edward. I feel conflicted agreeing not to take things further with Edward. Not that I was planning on doing it with him anytime soon. Reluctantly, I would agree, but it feels wrong, agreeing not to have sex with Edward as part of a bet with another man. Then a terrifying thought occurs to me. No one can find out about this; not Alice, not Rosalie, and especially not Edward. It would kill him.

"Fine, but you can't tell anyone about this. Not. One. Person. Do you understand me? Edward can't find out about this!" My voice is panicked as I enforce my point by poking Jacob in the chest with each word.

"Fine. Is that your only condition?" I don't want it to be, I know I'll regret it later, but there isn't anything else I can honestly think of.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Walking toward the door, Jacob stops with one hand on the handle. He glances back at me.

"Don't worry, Princess. I'll be in you soon enough." With a final wink, he leaves me, alone and confused in the student lounge.

Oh God, what have I done?

~~-BoM-~~

I sit alone in the lounge until the lunch bell rings, waiting until everyone is out of the classroom before I venture out into the hallway. The last hour replays over and over in my mind.

What the hell was I thinking? I wasn't. He was so damn close to me that I lost all kinds of coherent thought. My stomach is in knots, and I literally feel like I'm going to have to run to the bathroom and retch. I can't stop running my fingers through my hair and over my face, anything to keep my hands moving or else they shake uncontrollably.

What about Edward? I can't even think about him without a new wave of remorse, panic, shame, and whatever other kind of emotion I'm having bottled up inside wash over me. Would he be ashamed of me if he knew? I'm ashamed of me. I feel wretched; I feel like the lowliest of all serpents ever to crawl the earth. I mean, who in their right mind bets on their own virginity?

Me. That's who.

How did I let him get me so worked up? How did I let him talk me into agreeing with this stupid bet? I started off so strong! I think. Well, I felt strong at first. I was holding my own; I was standing up for myself, saying no to peer pressure. Then he pulled me into him and ran his lips across my neck, and I lost all sense of coherent thought. I got pissed off and agreed before I even realized I had done it.

It's fine, I reassure myself. It'll be okay. It's a bet I can't lose. This is my virginity we're talking about. That's full out sex! I've gone nearly seventeen years without it; I can go three more months. Especially when it's someone I hate. All right, so I don't really hate him; I hate his crude behavior and the way he seems to make my body respond even when I don't want it to.

And that scares me.

But I can learn from this. Now I know better than to let him get this close to me ever again. I know not to get sucked into his games. For the next three months, he's going to try everything he can to get into my pants. He can sweet talk me, pretend he likes me, loves me, whatever. I won't let him get to me. I won't give in.

Yeah, easy for me to say after I just let him pressure me into taking this awful bet.

Okay, let's try to look at this rationally. We can't just strip down and do it anywhere. He'd have to get me alone first. Well, I'm not going to let that happen. The only time I have to see him is during school hours; no chance of having sex there. He doesn't have my number, so it's not like he can call me. There's always the chance that he could stop by my house, but I don't have to answer the door and let him in.

I'm beginning to feel better. There is ultimately no chance that he will be able to win. I just have to avoid him. Then, after three months, he'll lose the bet. I'll win his motorcycle. I smile at the thought of that. I wouldn't take it of course; though part of me wants to. He'd take my virginity in a second if it was offered. Why shouldn't I take his bike, if I win it? Besides the fact that it would lead to some interesting questions with no answers.

Okay, I'll let him keep his bike, if he keeps his condition.

As long as he keeps his end of the bet and never tells, then no one but the two of us will ever know. Then in three months, I can live my life as if none of this ever happened.

~~-BoM-~~

Pretending everything is normal is easier than I thought it would be. When I spot Edward in front of my locker, my heart speeds up and a sweat breaks out, but I smile. He seems oblivious to my inner turmoil. He talks as if he doesn't notice my shaking hands and sweaty palms. We walk right through the cafeteria line together, and he carries my tray to our table of friends, just like always.

Edward sits down next to Mike Newton, a star basketball player and football player; he's sitting next to his girlfriend, Jessica Stanley, who's on the cheerleading squad with me and Angela. Angela Weber sits across the table with her boyfriend, Ben Cheney, and on her other side sits Alice. The only chair not yet filled is for Lauren Mallory, captain of the dance team. If she wasn't Jessica's best friend, she wouldn't sit here. It is no secret that she has a crush on Edward and hates me for dating him, and she certainly can't stand my best friend. Alice isn't part of the same 'social clique' as the rest of us. Alice's "band nerd" reputation corrupts Lauren's perfect lifestyle. Though she lets it slide only because Alice's father is a psychiatrist.

In layman's terms, Alice makes up for her "nerdism" by having money.

I tear my hot roll into tiny pieces rather than just eating it. I can't bring myself to eat anything. My stomach is still too tied up in knots to even consider getting anything down.

"It's too hot to have practice outside today. I think we should have it in the weights room, don't you?" Jessica's talking to Angela, who nods politely then looks at me for confirmation. I shrug, not really caring either way.

"That reminds me; coach said we're meeting after school to discuss practice times. He's thinking about holding practice at six, when it cools down," Edward directs his conversation at Ben, continuing Jessica's train of thought. Did I mention that Edward is captain of the football team? He's a wide receiver (whatever that means; the only position I know in football is quarterback).

Jessica continues to talk to Angela and Alice, who politely listen while Mike, Edward and Ben talk football. My mind can't seem to focus on anything as I continue to destroy what little food I have. Chopping up my chicken into little tiny pieces, I shove them under the mashed potatoes, giving the illusion that I ate something.

Lauren's voice giggles behind me, followed by a husky laugh that sounds all too familiar. Whipping around in my seat, I spot her quickly, her platinum blonde hair practically glowing in the florescent lighting. She's leaning up against the cafeteria wall, biting her lip and twirling her hair while Jacob stands over her, smiling - his dazzling smile of course. Wasn't it only ten minutes ago that he was standing in nearly that same position with me?

Hot rage and embarrassment flood through me. Have I deluded myself into thinking that I'm the only girl he flirts with? I know he's a player. I know he uses women and throws them away. That's what his type does. I just didn't expect him to replace me in ten minutes.

What am I talking about? Replace me? It's not like we're a couple or anything! We made a stupid bet; a bet that he doesn't seem to be taking very seriously at the moment. Good. Maybe it was all just a joke before. Maybe he walked out of the door laughing because I thought the bet was real when it clearly wasn't. I mean, he can't win this thing with me by doing other girls.

"Bella, were you listening?"

I flip back around in my seat, Edward recapturing my attention.

"What?"

"I said I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to upset you." His wounded eyes look into mine as I begin searching my mind for what he could be talking about. He glances down at the demolished food on my plate, my hands wringing the small napkin into a twisted cord, and I realize what he's saying. I guess he has noticed my erratic behavior, but he thinks he's the cause of it, because he told me he loved me.

"Oh, no, I'm not upset about that." Dropping the napkin, I place my hand over his.

"Then what's been bothering you all morning?"

Damn, I really need to work on hiding my emotions. I hesitate, opening my mouth, but no words come out. I can't come up with an adequate lie. Thank goodness, I don't have to. Lauren's high pitch giggle escalates as Jacob pulls out her chair. She unceremoniously rubs her breasts against his body as she moves to sit down, flirtatiously batting her eyelashes and smiling up at him.

"I'll be sure to bring my car in for a tune up later," she winks. "Say around six-ish?"

"Looking forward to it," he replies, glancing up from Lauren and straight at me with a knowing glint in his eyes and a cocky grin. Edward's hand tightens around mine, bringing me closer to him as he slides an arm around my waist. Jacob's eyes sweep from me to Edward then back again, winking at me before squeezing Lauren's shoulder and stomping off. The action is subtle enough it seems Edward and I are the only ones who notice.

"Lauren!" Jessica squeals.

"What?" she says, as though she doesn't notice everyone's shocked eyes staring at her. Except for mine; I'm not sure what kind of emotion my face is portraying. Possibly terror with a twinge of confusion (but not jealousy, no, definitely not jealousy).

"Jacob Black?" Jessica's voice is reaching a new octave as she squeals.

"He's hot," she shrugs nonchalantly.

"He's also a criminal. I heard he got kicked out of school last year for beating the shit out of some senior," Mike adds.

"He couldn't have been kicked out, or he wouldn't be allowed to come back this year," Angela points out.

"I heard he dropped out," Ben explains, "right after he got busted for possession."

"That auto shop he works at was raided. Everyone knows that business is shady," says Mike.

"Is it true that he's part of some biker gang in La Push?" Alice asks.

"That's the rumor," Ben confirms.

Jessica gasps loudly. "You're not really going to see him tonight, are you, Lauren?"

"Of course I am. Did you see that body? Yum!"

"You are so bad!" Jessica and Lauren fall into a fit of giggles while the rest of us look at each other like they've gone insane.

"I didn't like the way he looked at you," Edward whispers in my ear. "Promise me you'll stay away from him?"

Oh, Edward, that was my plan all along. "Of course."

A/N: Thank you all so much for the positive reviews! I just want to mention that Jacob's POV in the last chapter occurs at the same time as Bella's POV. Sorry, if I confused anyone it's my fault that I wasn't clear enough so I went back and added the parenthesis. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did.