Ch3/Bella/The Letter

I drove back home in silence. I hated not knowing what was going to happen, yet I avoided stopping by my locker just in case Jessica and Lauren got the news from Tanya and decided to find me. I wasn't afraid of them, but I was I afraid of what they might do. I had seen what happened to others they didn't like. I didn't have it as bad as those fools did when it came to the Whore Bag Gang, but they were all in my gym class. That would give me a good reason to skip gym…right?

And then there was the Cullen situation.

I had to hide from them as well, and there was one Cullen in practically every one of my classes. I had Emmett in History, Alice in math and art, and Edward in last period English. They probably had never noticed I was there, but now they would be on the lookout for me. I couldn't possibly skip every class. I got nauseas. I felt a lump in my throat, and I held back tears at the thought. Then a sort of bitter anger took over. I avoided people just so they would leave me alone and not kick my ass or tease more than usual. Now I'm in so much crap and it's not even fair! I slapped my dashboard and huffed. People, well if you can call teenagers people, love to pick on the weak. And unfortunately for me, I just happen to be the weak one. I wish I was stronger and braver. But I'm not. I'm not the sassy girl, and I don't have a secret power that would make my enemies stay away. I'm just the easy target. I have been since elementary school. Shit… I would kick my own ass.

I didn't dare play music in my crappy truck. It would make my nerves worse, and I was already jumpy. I started thinking about the possibility of skipping school tomorrow. It all depended on what shift my father worked this week and if my truck had enough gas and engine power to drive somewhere else. As I pulled up to my house I quickly dropped any ideas of skipping. My heart started to race and the sudden chest-crushing feeling returned at the sight of my father's police car.

He was home.

I parked in my usual spot and took a deep breath. I stared at my house's door and even shook a little. I hesitantly opened my driver-side door and stepped out of my truck. I landed in mud and I squealed. Of course there was mud; it rains all day every day here. I closed the door behind me and slowly walked to the house in my heavy muddy boots. I wiped them on the special mat my father bought. I wiped with fury and determination. The last time I walked into the house with a pair of muddy boots on he was so pissed he almost threw one at my face when he found it. Well, he did, but I got out of the way and it hit the wall instead.

I couldn't believe how my hands shook as I opened the door to my own house. As I walked inside, the scent of fried chicken hit my face and my stomach growled in agreement. The house was silent, except for the sounds of popping grease and the roar of the crowd from a baseball game on the TV. I slowly walked past the living room, spotting my father sitting in his usual chair with his boots off, a can of beer in one hand and his head thrown back into the couch. He was asleep with his mouth wide open (the snoring noises were proof), but even in his sleep he was dangerous.

One time, when I was 13, Mom told me to turn the TV off since he had fallen asleep. She still apologizes to this day, five years later, but it wasn't her fault. When I turned off the TV, it woke him up. How, I don't know. He threw a full beer bottle at me. It made me cry. I didn't cry because it hurt, the bottle didn't break or anything, and he didn't throw it hard. I never cry because of physical pain anyway. I didn't cry because the drink ruined my favorite blouse either. I cried because it was just so damn humiliating. I was so angry, just like I am today. I was angry at myself for not having balls and for letting him treat me like that. He made me clean up the damn drink from hell afterwards, too.

I felt my glasses slipping off my nose. I pushed them back up with my finger and walked into the kitchen, where I found my mother making a salad. Father likes a salad with his chicken.

"Bella!" She said with a smile. She's in a good mood today. I love it when my mom is in a good mood; it means I'm not going to be quite so lonely today, she's going to be my friend… at least for today.

"Hey Mom" I said sitting beside her. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, I'm already done. But…" she said. Then she paused and looked over to the living room, making sure Father was still there.

"I have a surprise for you," she whispered. This time I looked over to the living room to make sure Father was still there.

"Really?" I said in an excited whisper after I looked back at her.

"Yep, but I'll give it to you after dinner, when Charles goes and takes a shower," she whispered. Her giant smile was so contagious that I couldn't help but smile myself.

"It? What is it?"

"No I'm…" she suddenly stopped whispering, and then I heard Father's loud boots coming towards the kitchen. I quickly understood why she went back to cutting tomatoes and pretended she wasn't even speaking to me.

"What the hell are you two crows talkin' about? Can't a man get his damn sleep?" My father said, and walked to the fridge to grab another beer. Apparently he has better hearing abilities than my mother and I are aware of.

"Oh nothing Charles, girl stuff. Do you want a plate already?" My mother asked, smiling. It was a fake smile. She does that to try to keep him from getting mad (even though sometimes he does anyway). I guess my parents were speaking to each other again.

"Well duh!" He said, and sat down at the other end of the small oval table, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his black hair. He opened his eyes and I quickly looking down at the table, hoping he didn't notice me looking at him.

"Isabella…" he said, and I swear my heart stopped. What did I do wrong? I swear I cleaned my feet, and I wasn't staring that long.

"Ye…yes Father?" I asked with a shaky voice, still looking down at the table. Mom stopped cutting the tomatoes again, and looked up at him.

"Would you pass me the salt? I'm sure your mother's potatoes will need it," he said nonchalantly, and I almost sighed in relief. My mother sighed and went back to cutting the tomatoes. I handed my father the salt and he took it softly. It scared me that he was gentle. It was frightening because it was so unexpected. Maybe he was drunk already.

We ate in silence as usual. My mom was the last one to sit down, as she always made sure we had everything served and on the table first, even though it was just us three. As I started to eat the invisible steam off the chicken fogged my glasses with grease. I hated my glasses. Everything stained them and I couldn't see. When I first realized that I had a blurry vision I wanted to get contacts, but Father said they were too expensive and would hurt my eyes, and that was that.

I picked at my chicken, while my father finished his third plate. After he was done, he left his dirty plate and used napkins on the table and went to take a shower. I sighed in annoyance; he never picked up his mess. I went back to picking at my chicken while Mom quickly walked to a small desk we had by the fridge. It was the "mail" table. My father never looked through it. He said dealing with mail was "too damn complicated and such a headache." Mom flipped through the mail, and when she finally found the envelope she was hiding she rushed to my side.

"This is the surprise," she said, handing me the white envelope after I wiped my hands with a napkin. "When I read that it was for you from him, I wanted to open it myself. I know it's not my right to, but I couldn't help it. I was so excited!" She whispered. I stared at the sender's name on the envelope, and then looked at my name, and then back at his again. I smiled widely.

From: Jacob Black

To: Isabella Swan

Jake was my best friend, my only friend…ever. I still remember how hard I cried when he moved. I knew what his moving meant. I had lost my only friend.

"Oh god, open it already and tell me what he says!" My mother ordered excitedly.

I had not seen Jake in three years. He and his father, Billy Black, had moved across the country due to Billy's company. "We're off to get rich!" He said. Jake and I had known each other our whole lives. Our parents were friends and we had grown up together. I could always count on him, even though we couldn't go to school together.

It had been months since the last time Jake wrote to me. He moved a lot and never had the chance to write. The first year after he left he didn't write at all because he was mad at my father. He was mad for the same reason that Billy, Jacob's father (and my father's ex-best friend), decided to end their friendship. It was the same reason my mom hid the letter from my father.

I was 15. Jake and I were holding hands, walking to my house. My father saw him and that's all you have to know to know to figure out what happened. It wasn't even like that. Jake was my best friend, and holding hands was normal for us. It was warm, not romantic at all. My father pushed Jacob away from me and punched him in the face, giving him a black eye. It was so embarrassing, and I felt so bad for Jacob. I shook my head to clear away the memories, and read the letter.

Dear Bella who is so stella!

I rolled my eyes.

Dude! I finally got to write to you. I'm sorry I haven't been able to write as of late. But you know how my dad's business is. Anyway, I will have this address for a while so you can write me back here. I hope you ain't too pissed at me, 'cuz I miss you, friend. Tell Renee I miss her and her food. Dad's "special" spaghetti is starting to suck and making me fat and lose my touch with the ladies…yeah I know what a liar. Well, gotta go. I swear my next letter is already in the mail box or on a plane headed to you!

Your friend 4 eva,

Jake

P.S

Ha! You actually thought that was all I was going to write? I have a bigger surprise for you that I need to just double check with my dad before I tell you. You won't freaking believe it! Love you!

I smiled and quickly folded the letter and placed it in one of the pockets of my jeans. I could feel my mom waiting.

"So?"

"So…he says he is alright and tired of his dad's spaghetti, misses you and me, and has a big surprise for me," I said. She covered her mouth so that my father wouldn't hear her squeal of excitement. My mother loves Jake. I think it has to do with the fact that he's my only friend.

"I'm so happy Bella. He should visit. Doesn't he know how lonely he has you?" she said, and then quickly looked at me as if apologizing for her comments. I chuckled.

"Don't worry mom, I know I'm a loner and I'm fine with it," I said, smiling, as I used one finger to push my glasses higher up my nose again.

"But you don't have to…" she said and I shook my head. She took a piece of paper from her pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to me. I looked at it and realized why she was hiding it. It was my report card. I had three "Cs," a "B" in English, an "A" in art and an "F" in math.

"Look, I know you're a smart girl Bella, and I know you go through crap in life that makes you wanna give up on life and school, but you have to know…" she paused, looked around, and then directed her attention back at me. "This, what you're holding in your hand, is the ticket out of this crap. You're our only hope…no scratch that, you are your only hope of getting out of this town. I wish I could have been a smart girl like you, but I wasn't, I was just the pretty girl who married her high school sweetheart at a very young age. Now I'm stuck. Please Bella…" she said with tears in her eyes.

"Okay mom," I simply said, and I felt a tear run down my cheek. She wiped it away and she smiled at me, kissing me on the forehead. I wished my mom was like this with me every day.

That night I couldn't sleep. I kept remembering what happened at school; how I shouldn't have followed Mrs. Walton, and how I should have defended myself. Now I was going to have to deal with the consequences tomorrow at school.

When morning came my head and neck ached due to the lack of sleep. I quickly dressed in my worn out jeans (not the "in the style" worn out, but the "my father doesn't want to buy me new clothes" worn out). I put on a regular t-shirt with my favorite dark green hoodie sweater and brushed my naturally curled hair (which was a pain in the ass to brush). I put on my glasses, grabbed my old orange back pack, and ran out the door. I was running late as usual. I had planned to get to school early in order to avoid the Whore Bags on the way to my locker, but that didn't seem possible now.

When I got to school, I power walked inside, again avoiding eye contact with everybody. On my way to my locker nobody bothered me. At first I thought maybe nobody knew. I sort of got excited and sighed in relief.

I was so wrong.

As I walked to first period math, I was tripped into reality…literally. I felt the ground first, and then felt Lauren's massive leg. I don't know how that worked, but that's the way I remember it. My glasses fell on the ground beside me, but thankfully they didn't break. Father wouldn't me buy new ones. I fell hard on my left arm and I think I gasped loudly.

"Fucking snitch!" Lauren said, and walked past me. Jessica followed behind in her high heels. She kicked my math book to the other side of the hall as she went. I sat up and quickly grabbed my glasses just in case they tried anything else. I wanted to be able to see it coming. I looked around, Jessica and Lauren walked away. I guess they were wanted to be away from me before any teachers saw them. But tripping wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that everyone was staring at me. No... they were glaring at me.

Shit.

As I stood up, I quickly dusted off my jeans, rubbed my arm, and tried to catch my breath. I was a little winded. I quickly picked up my math book and almost ran to class, again avoiding eye contact with everybody. Unfortunately, I was late to that too and walked into a class full of people glaring at me. I looked around and spotted Alice Cullen. I was about to look down and avoid her, but she did it first. She seemed almost ashamed to look at me.

That's strange.

I walked to my usual spot, the last desk in the back, and tried to block out all the whispers about Edward, the Cullens, me, me being a snitch and weed out of my head. Math was a blur, a shaky and painful blur. And just last night I had promised my mom I would do better in school. Damn. I looked over at Alice, and I caught her staring at me with what I thought looked like pity. She quickly looked away. Yeah…well feel bad all you want, you know you hate me too.

Class was over and I lingered behind. As I stepped into the hall, I looked all around. I made sure that nobody would trip me this time. I ran to my locker and with shaky hands opened it. My drawing pencils fell on the ground as I opened the damn thing and I almost screamed in anger and fear. I quickly picked them up. Those pencils were hard to find and expensive. I had stolen them from art class because I was too scared to ask Father for the money to buy them. After I grabbed them and put them in my orange back pack, I rushed to my next class. This will be my school life I guess. Running away…

You're such a fucking coward Swan! My inner voice cursed more than I did, and was always right, but inner voice isn't the one being threaten. God I hate school and I hate my inner voice too.

I walked into History and rushed to my desk and covered my head with my hoodie. I had Emmett in this class and he was freaking scary. He was five times my size and height, and he played football. And he just happens to think that I got him caught smoking weed!

But really, what could he do, right? He wouldn't hit a girl…right? Right?

I was surprised, well maybe not really, that he didn't come to class. I realized what must have happened when Jasper didn't show up to Biology and Tanya and Rosalie weren't in Gym (which, thank god, Lauren and Jessica decided to skip that day).

They were all suspended. Double shit.

Alice was in art, but didn't look at me this time.

The next day I faked sick and Mom let it go, but she made me promise I would go to school the next day. Of course I promised I would, as I couldn't possibly hide forever and Father would be pissed. The next few days I tried my best to avoid people. I was still called names, especially "snitch," and Jessica and Lauren spent most of their free time following me around in the halls without even saying anything. That was the worst part, the silent following.

The next day something strange happened. Lauren and Jessica stopped following me and most people stopped calling me names and looking at me. Everything went back to normal. I didn't know if this was good or if it still meant I was in deep crap. Since everyone was ignoring me, I decided to ignore everything around me. I started feeling safe again. Though I couldn't stop wondering what would happen when the Cullens and Rosalie and Jasper came back. Not once in that whole week did I have lunch.

A week later I was once again running late to my first class. I was carrying two journals, my sketch book, and my never opened, never used, math book. I was walking fast, hoping I would make it. Mrs. Gomez had been giving me the "you're late again" look all week and I couldn't afford for her to call my house. Father had started his monthly week-long late shift and he spent most of the day at home, much to my mother's misfortune.

I rushed to class, looking down at me feet to make sure I didn't trip over them or anyone else's. But I should have known better, as I ended up running right into someone's chest. I felt a sharp pain as the hard math book dug into my chest and the force of the collision pushed me back. This someone gasped and I fell back, dropping all my books.

"Shit!" I gasped in pain. The damn math book fell on my feet, and I fell on my ass on the hard floor. "I'm sorry…so sorry…I'm sorry… I'm just a dumb klutz, and sorry. That must have hurt…and…" I mumbled as I rushed to pick up my books, afraid to look up at the probably pissed person. But then this person knelt down in front of me. He smelled good.

"You are a klutz, but I forgive you," he chuckled, sounding so beautiful that I didn't dare look up at him. I stared at the ground. I was sure I was shaking and I probably peed in my pants a little. I stared at my now wide open math book. There was a picture of a damn square with lines across it, and numbers and letters. I don't know what the hell it meant, but that's what I was trying to concentrate on instead of looking at him. He gently closed the book and picked it up, along with my journals. I quickly grabbed my sketch book; holding on to it for dear life, knowing what was inside of it and what it meant if he saw it. I realized I had stopped breathing.

He stood up.

I stood up. Weakly, but I did.

He had my stuff.

He handed it to me…gently.

I looked up at him. Finally. In the eyes…

"You dropped this." Edward said giving me his "real" crooked smile. That smile…the one I love. I swear it was like I was in one of those cheese-fest movies. I think I stared at him for too long for it not to be awkward. I quickly looked down, feeling like a fool.

Wait. He was giving methat smile?

"Th…thank…thank you," I said. My voice sounded shaky and I would punish myself later for it. But holy crap…doesn't he hate me? Doesn't he want me dead? He lifted his hand and I flinched. Then I felt stupid when he gently placed it on my shoulder.

"No problem…Bella." He said softly and I looked at him again. He gave me another of his dazzling crooked smiles and swiftly walked away. Something I could never do.

What the hell was that?

As he walked away I felt my heart and my breathing start again and oh…he left his scent behind. Edward had smiled at me instead of threatening my very existence. I didn't know what to think. What the hell? I'm not scared.

Should I be scared?