DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the words, plot and lackluster formatting belong to me. Please do not repost the story without authorization.

Thank you to Scorp112 and LightStarDusting, my betas. They're both really great at suggesting ways to improve each chapter. I added quite a bit after they beta'd this chapter, so all mistakes are mine.

I also wanted to take a second to mention Emergency Beta Service. What a wonderful group of talented people who are willing to help when you get stuck. Check them out on Twitter: (emergencybeta) for advice and appropriate links to their website. For that matter, you can find me there, too, (picklewinkle) if you're interested. Just use the at symbol in front.

I had trouble deciding whether or not to include Bella's POV in this chapter, thus the delay in posting it. She doesn't come off looking very nice in Edward's POV. Please cut her some slack. I promise she'll redeem herself in the next chapter.

Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I can't express how much it means to me.

Chapter 11: Hell Is More Merciful Than A School Dance

EPOV

I cancelled the dinner reservations I'd made for Saturday night. My mother had sent tickets for an art show in Seattle that I was planning to ask Bella to attend with me, but after what happened on our hike, it would have felt like bashing my head against a brick wall - if I could have gotten her to agree to go at all. Even though I knew the whole thing was just a big misunderstanding, I felt culpable. The problem was that I had no idea what had upset Bella. I couldn't exactly make amends with an apology if I had no clue what I was apologizing for. Besides, she'd made it clear that she didn't want to talk about what was bothering her, so my hands were tied. It's not like she was innocent in what happened. I wouldn't go so far as to say that she was looking to pick a fight, but she was at least as obstinate and inflexible as I was.

The weekend came and went with no word from her. Monday morning, I looked for her at school but didn't find her. She was away on Tuesday as well. The email I sent her, inquiring why she was absent, went unanswered, as I expected it would.

Waiting for Bella to contact me was a lot harder than I thought it would be. The guilt of responsibility for our disagreement weighed heavily on me, and I couldn't seem to shake it, despite being unable to come up with what I'd done wrong. I wasn't ready for the experiment to be over. Admittedly, my reasons were purely selfish. I liked that Bella was willing to coach me and teach me how to nurture my instincts. Moreover, her kiss had been the inspiration for our entire undertaking, and I had yet to define what she brought out in me, let alone understand it to any satisfaction.

Bella returned to school on Wednesday. I could tell that she'd been away with a cold of some sort, judging by her red nose and hacking cough. Much to my disappointment, she didn't acknowledge me with anything more than a cursory glance when we passed in the hall. Thursday and Friday were much the same, although she was looking healthier with each day. I tried to hold her gaze when she looked at me, but she always averted her eyes after only a moment. There certainly wasn't enough time to figure out what I saw there. I hoped that once she was feeling like herself again, I'd hear from her, but no such luck. Another weekend passed without any communication. I sent her a second email, telling her I'd like to get past whatever was bothering her, agreeing to talk to her about it if she wanted. Just like with my other message, I got no response.

Her distant behavior continued into the following week. We had become much like what we began as - strangers with a history - except now I was keenly aware of her presence. I preferred my old indifference, which was easier in every way. The oblivion she'd placed me in left me restless and irritated. My impatience with the situation was quickly evolving, progressing through upset and lapsing into hopelessness. Nothing about the way I felt was amiable or comfortable.

On Thursday, I watched her laughing with some friends over lunch in the cafeteria, unsuccessfully trying to discern the difference between their company and mine. Sick of getting the cold shoulder from her, I decided I was willing to accept rejection for some closure. I'd rather move on and put Bella and everything we'd been trying to do behind me, than continue in the limbo we were in. I approached her after school to make a last ditch effort to save our dwindling partnership.

"I know I said I would wait for you to contact me, but since it seems you have no intention of doing so, I thought I'd make a final attempt to connect with you." I did my best to keep my voice placid but my resignation seeped in.

"Good afternoon to you too, Cullen." She smirked sarcastically, avoiding my gaze while she rearranged something in her locker.

"I thought perhaps you'd like to do something together tomorrow night," I continued, ignoring her attempt to derail me. As the silence stretched between us, I braced for rejection. She endeavored to hide her reluctance by looking through her backpack, but she didn't fool me. I was sure her brush-off was coming. The rosy stain on her cheeks gave her away. Blushing in a difficult or uncomfortable situation was second nature for her. Of course she would do it when she was snubbing someone.

"Thanks, but I actually have plans," she said quietly. Her tone was almost too polite.

"What are you doing?" The question popped out unbidden, and I didn't exactly try to hide my annoyance. I was insulted that she wasn't going to say anything to me about the experiment. Whether she wanted to continue it or not, I deserved a little common courtesy. If she noticed my irritation at all, she simply disregarded it, and pointed to the poster near her locker without a word. "You're going to the dance?" I asked incredulously.

"You're welcome to come with me, if you're interested." She stopped what she was doing and looked up at me. I was so sure that she was being intentionally mean, that I expected to see cruelty in her eyes. Instead, I saw warmth and hope. Both sentiments baffled me. In the context of the last two weeks, they seemed so out of place.

"Dancing's not really my thing," I blurted, uncomfortable with the mere suggestion of it.

"Well, I'd really like it if you could come, but suit yourself." She gave me an understanding smile, before slamming her locker closed and leaving. A few feet down the hallway, she turned back to me. "Around eight o'clock, if you change your mind."

I wouldn't change my mind. I'd avoided school dances for eighteen years. I wasn't about to change that, even for Bella.

~8~

Friday was the first time since our hike that Bella smiled at me as she passed me in the hallway. The experiment was over in my mind, so her attention was a moot point. Or it should have been. It aggravated me, and I couldn't put my finger on why. As the day wore on, my exasperation worsened. Everything she did, set me off - giggling with Alice Brandon in the parking lot when I pulled in, rolling her eyes at Emmett McCarty during the assembly, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear like Ben Cheney's critique of the latest Scott Pilgrim graphic novel was the most fascinating thing she'd ever heard. Her hair looked pretty today, falling in loose chestnut curls around her shoulders. My hand twitched when I remembered how soft it was.

The whole school was buzzing about the dance, and the fact that I was even aware, let alone thinking about it, was the pièce de résistance in my already shitty day. I scratched my head and wondered how the hell I ended up in this façade of my life. I was not this guy, at least I didn't think I was, nor did I want to be. I wasn't above admitting that I didn't know what the hell was happening to me, though. A few weeks ago, I'd written off whatever was between Bella and me because I couldn't fathom asking her out on a date. Now, I was considering attending a godforsaken school dance to spy on her.

Who the hell was I kidding? I'd already made up my mind to go, I just didn't have the balls to own it yet.

It was troublesome that I couldn't put Bella out of my mind. It left me confused and unsettled. She was an enigma, and the desire to understand her was consuming. It shouldn't have been. Our coming together was part of an experimental undertaking, and since it was over, so should my thoughts of her and the experiment be finished.

Her invitation to the dance made no sense, whatsoever. She knew I didn't attend extracurricular school events. Their social demands were too taxing, and there was little incentive to work so hard when the payoff was almost nonexistent. I found it was better to avoid the misery they induced, altogether.

If she wanted to speak to me, a dance was a poor choice to accomplish that. The noise and lack of privacy would prevent any meaningful conversation. If she didn't want to speak to me, why invite me at all? To be polite? To ridicule me? She'd been less than courteous to me since our hike, so she certainly wasn't bound by good manners. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to believe that she would do it out of spite. It didn't fit with my understanding of who she was. Then again, maybe I didn't know her, at all.

I felt as if I'd been very accommodating, doing my part by emailing her and giving her some space. She needed time to come to grips with her overreaction on our hike, and I was happy to grant her that. I figured it would take her a few days to come to her senses. The thought that she'd ignore me indefinitely had never occurred to me. Wasn't maturity a reasonable expectation in regard to behavior? She was almost an adult.

It was hard not to take her behavior personally. I thought we were beyond trivial misunderstandings. Clearly, we weren't, or she would have come to me if she had an issue with something I'd said or done. In the past, we'd always been able to come to some kind of compromise. The reality that she didn't respect me enough to deal with what happened was hurtful. I guess, in that sense, it was personal.

The worst part of all was that I missed her. Her absence in my life was striking. Somehow, in the midst of the strange synergy of our physical relationship, she'd accidentally become my friend. It was easy to be myself around her, quirks and all. I'd never known that kind of acceptance in friendship. Now that I had, the idea of losing it was overwhelming.

None of my questions would be answered by going to the stupid dance. I wouldn't learn what I'd done to offend her or nail down her reasons for pulling out of the experiment. But maybe, if I met her halfway, we could find some common ground. Even if we couldn't, I'd settle for a small bit of understanding and the chance to save our friendship before it was too late.

~8~

It was like walking into a nightmare designed to torture me.

I hid behind the bleachers, completely disconcerted by the bizarre rituals unfolding before my eyes. I was a fish out of water. No, I was a fish out of water amongst fish out of water - beyond the ability to fit in with even the most awkward and socially inept. To say that I was uncomfortable was the grandest understatement ever uttered. Hell would have been more merciful, and I daydreamed that the flames of Hades would burst through the gym floor and incinerate me to put me out of my misery.

The gym had been transformed into a makeshift club. Lasers and strobe lights filled the room with a combination of fluorescent color and harsh white light. Moving light heads painted the room's occupants in brilliant LEDs that transformed from electric purples and cool blues to fiery reds and limey greens. The DJ was spinning mindless dance music that was nothing more than a droning rhythm of repetitive beats, entirely lacking in melody and harmony. The people dancing pressed against one another in lewd and indiscrete ways, completely unabashed. I was inundated by the shame they didn't have the decency to feel.

The swinging brown curls in the middle of all the commotion were the only reason I stayed in place. The strobe lights made her every movement appear in slow motion - hips swaying to and fro, arms twirling, head bobbing. As she moved her body to the music, she seemed blissfully unaware of her surroundings, and I was eternally grateful for her preoccupation. It was bad enough that I was at a dance, but even worse that I was only there so I could watch her. If she knew, it would be infinitely more uncomfortable. I just wanted to see what all of this meant to her, to try to understand her in her element.

A new song began. I only registered the change because of the introduction of a tinny synthesizer into the thumping bass that had dominated every song so far. Emmett McCarty grabbed Bella by the hips and pulled her body to his. She swatted at his chest playfully, but I noticed the way she backed away from him, or tried. He was a gorilla of a man, a muscular jock with a reputation for using his physical strength to get what he wanted. He was able to pull her tiny frame against his with no effort at all. I couldn't imagine Bella liking him or his attention. He was forceful and arrogant, invading her personal space in an overbearing manner. She gave him the song and then skillfully spun away from him into the center of a group of girls. He couldn't reach her there without being pushy and obvious. Luckily for Bella, Emmett was indiscriminate and replaced her with Lauren Mallory. Lauren seemed to prefer his attention, grinding on Emmett's hip like she was trying to get herself off. It was distasteful, to say the least. I shook off the shudder of disgust that threatened and refocused on Bella.

The easiness that I had always recognized in her was impossible to miss tonight. I watched her dance for six straight songs, envious of her energy and joie de vivre. There was a stream of males looking to partner with her, all drawn to her for varying reasons - her beauty, her warmth, her obvious proficiency on the dance floor. I found myself wondering how many of them wanted to be a part of her life in a more intimate way. The candidates became easier to pinpoint, the longer I observed her. Ben Cheney was one; Jasper Whitlock, another.

Ben was not much of a dancer. He couldn't seem to find the beat, and every movement was awkward and mistimed. Bella kept him talking so he would feel comfortable. I didn't like the way he bent toward her ear when he spoke to her. I liked the way she smiled at him even less.

Jasper was finessing a second dance from Bella when the music slowed. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. They stood frozen for a moment before Bella acquiesced and moved her hands to his shoulders. Though he was one of the few friends that I had, it didn't stop me from resenting his interest in her.

Unlike Ben, Jasper had impeccable rhythm and a commanding presence. He led Bella with grace and poise, and I wasn't the only person who noticed. All eyes seemed to be on them as they twirled around the dance floor. He held her with the sure hands that Bella had taught me, and when I recognized his intentions in the action, it pissed me off.

She was all he saw, and Bella seemed to be enjoying his attention, at least if the way she stared up at him was any indication. Their intensity was rankling. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't deny that the two were well matched, and if the way she was responding to him was any portent, she may well have been looking for something deeper than friendship with him. He might even be the reason that Bella pulled out of our experiment, which made me even more irritated.

I snuck outside for some air, needing some relief from the heat and noise of the gym. There was a group of kids to my left that were talking about Bella and Jasper, and the conversation caught my attention. The consensus was that the two were going out. I left when the conversation shifted to whether or not they were already sleeping together. It wasn't something I wanted to think about, let alone hear discussed. They didn't know Bella like I did. She wasn't the type of girl to enter into a sexual relationship at the drop of a hat, and I knew if she had feelings for Jasper, they were a recent development. She wouldn't have agreed to our experiment if she were interested in someone else.

When I got back into the gym, Bella was by the refreshments table, giggling with some girlfriends over red plastic cups of punch. She looked happy. She belonged in this social world; her verve was contagious. What stood out even more to me was how much I didn't belong. Being at this dance highlighted every flaw and deficiency I had. There was no comfort in the situation, no friends to be social with, and no desire to take part in the festivities - only a hollow and certain reminder that I was alone. I'd seen enough; it was time to leave.

Making my way to the door, I wove through the crowd and took one last glance in Bella's direction. I froze in place when I realized that she was with Mike Newton. He had somehow talked her away from her friends and backed her against the edge of the stage, using the sound system's speakers to camouflage his bullying. Mike's hand was under Bella's chin and she looked upset. Everything around me went red. I pushed past people, shoving those who wouldn't get out of my way. I had to get to her before he did anything to hurt her.

When I was close enough to be heard I yelled, "Get your fucking hands off of her." Mike turned to look at me, eyes glazed and probably drunk. I ran the last of the distance that separated us. "I said get your fucking hands off of her."

"Tell your bodyguard to get lost," Mike demanded, ignoring me and keeping a firm hold on Bella. Bella's fearful eyes darted to mine.

In his arrogance, Mike had underestimated me, believing that I wouldn't take action until he addressed me directly. I didn't hesitate, grabbing his arm with one hand and grinding my knuckle into the pressure point just above his elbow. He yelped in pain, immediately letting go of Bella. I stepped between them, twisting my finger with as much force as I could. Mike's knees buckled under the pain, and I let him drop to the ground. I could feel Bella's trembling hands on my hips.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll walk away now," I warned Mike.

He staggered to his feet, looking up at me with clouded eyes. His hands came out in front of him, not to challenge me but to protect his body, in case I moved toward him. He edged backward cautiously.

"And if I ever see you around Bella again, the pain you felt today will feel like a walk in the park, comparatively."

I waited for him to leave before turning around to ask Bella if she was okay. I could see tears welling in her eyes. Instead of waiting for her to answer me, I put my arm around her waist and led her outside. She was speechless and shaking.

"Bella, would you like to go home?"

She nodded. I helped her into my car and then bent down to be at her eye level.

"Did you come with anyone?"

"Alice," she whispered.

"I'll just go tell Alice that I'm giving you a ride, so she doesn't worry. I won't say a word about what happened. You can tell her about Mike later, if you want to."

The ride home was silent. Bella seemed to be lost in her head, and I had no idea how to make her feel better. I tried to focus on the fact that she wasn't seriously hurt, but I was angry that she had to deal with Mike's abusive behavior again. I couldn't find the right words to express myself without making it sound like I was scolding her, so I did the only other thing I could think of. I reached out for Bella's hand and held it gently in my own. After I pulled into her driveway, I raised it to my mouth and kissed it softly, hoping she would understand that everything would be okay. Saying the words felt so condescending.

"That's twice," she murmured.

"He won't come near you again. I'll see to that, Bella." It was a promise I intended to keep, at any cost.

"No, I mean that's twice you've helped me when I couldn't help myself." She looked up at me, her eyes wide and vulnerable.

"That's what friends are for."

Her gaze shifted downward slowly, her lids heavy, and she pulled her lips between her teeth. It wasn't the reaction I'd expected. I thought my words would be comforting. Instead, they seemed to upset her further. When she spoke, her voice was so soft that I wasn't sure I was meant to hear it. "Yeah, I guess they are." She thanked me quietly for driving her home and got out of the car.

As I watched her walk toward her porch, I could tell by the way she moved that she was upset. I just wasn't sure if it was the night catching up with her or if I'd somehow made things worse for her. It occurred to me that maybe the way she'd treated me during the last two weeks was how she wanted things between us – distant and detached. Maybe it was better if I just stayed away from her.

I didn't like the idea of not having her in my life. That much I understood now. Regardless of the state of our friendship, I'd never regret going to the dance since I was able to help her get away from Mike. Still, I had no idea where tonight left things between Bella and me.

A/N: So… um… er…

I promise Bella's not as horrible as she appeared to be in Edward's perception. In fact, this illustrates why I love dual viewpoints, because no two people see the same thing the same way.

Do you think Edward is seeing things clearly? Was he having a pity party? Was he right to give Bella space or should he have just gone to talk to her earlier since he broke down and did it anyway?

What do you think is going on in Bella's mind?

Did you swoon over WhiteKnightWard?

Any guesses about what will happen in the next chapter?

Leave a review and let me know what you think. It's almost as good as WhiteKnightWard.