Author's Note: Special shout out to Jaspersnumber1. Thank you for your review! It definitely helped me write faster. ^_^

As always, a thank you to my dear friend Steph, for helping me through my writer's block, the eventual editing, and her comical epic awesomeness.

(Bella's PoV)

I woke up with my eyes red and puffy at about 3 o'clock the next day. It was a good thing that I wasn't planning on going to school today. Not to mention, my head was pounding like a bitch and it had gained its own pulse. I groaned and slowly got to my feet, then rolled out of bed with about as much grace as an 80-year old fat man. I slowly walked out of my room, down the stairs, and collapsed at the kitchen table where Charlie was reading the news paper. I let my head plop don't on the white marble with a bounce. It kinda hurt more than I had meant it to. I let out a long groan.

Charlie just looked up from his paper and said, "You look like hell, Bells."

"Gee, thanks, Char-Dad." I muttered into the table. I groaned again. "My head hurts so much. Did I get hit by a bus yesterday?"

"Well, do you remember a circle of people surrounding you on the pavement looking concerned after you got hit?"

"No."

Charlie looked back down at his paper, "Then you didn't get hit by a bus."

I looked up and gave him a blank stare, then answered sarcastically. "Well, have you gotten hit by a bus before? How would you know?"

Charlie gave me a 'don't ask' look and quickly jumped subjects, "Have you taken any pain killers yet?"

I gave him a questioning glance, but I decided to drop it. There were just some things from my father's college days that I just didn't need to know. That's how he met my mom, Renè. When I asked her how they met, she said it happened during a wild party in college, and I vaguely remember her mentioning some tequila, a lime, and a sea-horse pool-floaty. I am pretty sure I mentally blocked the rest of it, which is a good thing. They had some pretty wild times, most of them I didn't need to know about, which conclusively led to the divorce of their extremely brief marriage.

"No, I haven't taken any aspirin yet, Dad."

"Well, don't you think it would help?" he replied.

I gave him a mock glare and stood up pretty abruptly. The chair I was sitting on tipped over backwards and hit the floor with a deafening bang. I gave a noticeable wince and Charlie chuckled from behind his Fork's Daily News.

"Butthead…" I muttered as I picked up my chair and placed back in it original position.

"What was that, Bella?"

Oopsies. I really needed to learn how to control my mind-to-mouth connection. "Uhhhh…. I asked 'Where's the aspirin, Dad?'."

"Oh. Check the top-shelf in the upstairs' bathroom cabinet."

"Thanks." I replied, and then left the kitchen wondering whether or not coming downstairs had really been a wise choice on my part.

Climbing back up the stairs was really more of a hassle than I expected and I had to stop one time to put my head on the railing. This concussion crap was really kicking my ass. By the time I had gotten into the bathroom, I was pretty much ready to just keel over and die a horrific and silent death. I felt like a zombie, and one quick, regretful glance in the bathroom mirror confirmed that I looked like one, too. I promptly found the aspirin and had that two-second internal debate on whether or not over-dosing would really make me feel better in the long run. I decided that it really wouldn't and jammed two tiny white capsules in my mouth, turned on the faucet, and ungracefully drank out of the sink like a dog. I was pretty sure that if Mike had seen me now, he would have grimaced and looked away in disgust.

Oh, yeah… Mike.

That reminded me of last night. Since I slammed the door oh-so-rudely in his face, he probably wanted absolutely nothing to do with me now. In fact, I would probably be going back to school to face a mockery of myself by the entire Fork's High student body. It had been only one fucking day and I had already screwed myself over here. I would be back to square one, with absolutely no friends, and no acquaintances since I lost Mike.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I said to myself as I put away the bottle of pills and closed the cabinet door.

I headed back to my room, hoping that I have my backpack so I could begin this one, huge, bitch of an essay that my English teacher, Mrs. Jones, had decided to assign to her advanced junior's class on my first day. Then I remember that my bag was in the cab of my truck, still parked in the parking lot of the high school, keys still in the ignition, right where I had left it after I passed out and had been taken to the hospital.

"FUCK MY LIFE!" I yelled pretty loudly.

That must have been what prompted Charlie to run to the bottom of the stairs and ask, "Is everything okay, Bells?"

"Dad, my truck with all my homework in it is still at the school! How am I supposed to do my schoolwork if I don't have it!" By now, I was freaking out. I really didn't want to be labeled as the slacker kid who doesn't do any of their work on the second day of school.

"Bella, you are perfectly all set. Your truck is parked right outside in the driveway." Charlie told me, trying to get me to stop being so hysterical as best as he could from the bottom of the stairs.

"What?" I asked, quite bewildered. How the hell did my truck get here? Did it drink a Red Bull to grow wings and fly back to our driveway? Better yet, why the hell would it come back here anyways?

"Oh, that nice kid, Mike Newton, and a few of his buddies brought it back a couple hours ago. They must have been on lunch break or something. It was pretty nice of them to do that, so you should thank them once you get back to school on Monday."

Wow, that concussion must have really fucked me up. Since when did I study the flight patterns caused by nasty energy drinks? I switched off that mind tangent and focused on the larger, more centralized idea. That was really sweet of Mike to do that… Why would he do that anyways? Wait, shouldn't he be totally pissed at me for being such a bitch last night?

"Oh, and by the way, Bells," Charlie continued, "You aren't allowed to drive for at least two weeks, according to Dr. Cullen, because of your concussion."

I frowned. "Then how the heck am I supposed to get to school?" There was absolutely no way in hell I was riding the bus. From where we lived, I would have to walk two miles to get to the nearest bus stop, and due to Fork's daily weather forecast of constant rain, it wouldn't take long before my hair turned to total frizz and I became completely drenched by the unending downpour.

"That Mike kid offered to give you a ride to and from school when he dropped off your truck. I told him specifically 'No funny business' and he nodded and said 'Of course not, Sir.' He seems like a pretty stable kid, so I'll allow him to drive you for a while. But if he screws up, consider yourself being dropped off at school in the police cruiser."

Okay, Charlie. That was enough to terrify me for a while. Taking the bus was one thing, being dropped off by your father in a police cruiser every morning was another. I was definitely not up to that kind of humiliation. I gave him a dissatisfied look.

"Hey, I didn't say that you had to ride in it now."

I just shook my head a little and replied, "Okay, thanks for letting me know, Dad. I suppose I'm gonna go get my backpack now." I started picking my way carefully back down the stairs.

"Hold on right there." Charlie said, then walked a few paces down the hallway and then disappeared. Seconds later, he re-emerged with my back pack. I looked at him a bit stunned and we met each other halfway on the stairs so he could give it to me. "Mike brought it in when he dropped off your keys."

" Uh… Thanks." Well, Mike had certainly gone far and beyond what I had expected. Maybe he wasn't even mad at me?

Charlie chuckled and then said, "By the way, Bells, I'll be working tonight from 4:30 to 2 AM. It's gonna be another long shift." I noticed then that Charlie looked extremely tired. I couldn't remember the last time he had had a full night's sleep. It wasn't like Forks was a complete hotspot for criminal activity.

"Dad, maybe you should take some time off. Sleep a little bit more. You look really tired."

"Yeah, I know, I'm feeling it."Charlie gave me a half smile and then brightened a little. "You know what, Bells, that's not a bad idea. We could even watch the basketball game tonight."

I grimaced. Blah, televised sporting events just weren't my thing. However, just to humor my dad, I smiled as big as I could and said, "Sure, that sounds good!"

He returned my smile and said, "Okay, Bells. I'm going to go make a few phone calls, and see if someone can take my shift, and I'll set my alarm clock for 7 so that we can nap up until the game."

I packed about as much enthusiasm as I could muster and said, "Sounds like a plan!"

Charlie gave me an odd look. Oops, too much enthusiasm. "Since when did you start liking sports, Bella?"

Oh, I wasn't expecting that one. Sports and I had always had a strong agreement to disagree. I wasn't coordinated enough to do even the most menial tasks, let alone attempting to stay standing as I kicked a ball around a field. Most often I tripped over that ball, anyways. "Uh, as long as I'm not playing them, Dad."

This seemed like an acceptable enough answer for the both of us so Charlie just nodded and said, "Okay Bells, I'll see you in a couple hours." He turned and walked back downstairs in the kitchen to make a few phone calls.

I walked back to my room and placed my back pack on my bed. I opened it up and glared at its contents with utter disgust.

"Nobody gives a fuck about Lord of the Flies, Mrs. Jones."

A/N: Please REVIEW guys! If I get enough of them, I'll definitely try my hardest to get another chapter or even two out by the end of my vacation. But I crave feedback and it's up to you guys to give it to me. It takes like, 30 seconds! Please! Please with a chocolate-covered Mike Newton on top? (Oooh... On top ;).)

What is the worst essay assignment that you have ever had? That annual research that we are required to do is pretty darn aweful...