Author's Note: It's a New Year's freaking miracle. Considering I am a huge slacker and haven't updated for many months, I fully understand and deserve your rage. I am very sorry. I'll do better next time. Thank you to all who have reviewed, I love you very much. Please review again. (AKA: BABY COME BACK! YOU CAN BLAME IT ALL ON ME!)

I don't own any of Stephenie Meyer's characters, though I much enjoy abusing them. And forcing them to do my bidding. 3;)
Now on with the show.

(Bella's POV)

That assignment sucked monkey ass. Discussing the symbolism represented in Lord of the Flies by the breaking of Piggy's glasses was just overkill. I seriously considered just typing the words 'They broke his glasses to piss him off and make a statement' and being done with the essay. Unfortunately, that wouldn't fill the 5 paragraph requirement.

I wish I didn't have to do this. I sighed in relief as it printed from my printer. Pristine, white paged assignment… It was perfect. I coveted the 5 pages as if it were a precious child, and stuck them in a protective folder that immediately went into my backpack. Finally, all of my dreaded homework was complete, and now all I had to look forward to was a welcoming sense of depression. I slowly made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen to search the freezer for some chocolate ice-cream. At least today is a Wednesday…

Crap, that meant I still had school tomorrow. See, I was hoping to avoid that awkward reunion with Mike Newton for as long as I possibly could. Unfortunately, the longest I could avoid looked like another 15 hours. Maybe a bit less.

I sat down on the couch next to Charlie while juggling some more painkillers, a glass of water, the carton of ice-cream, and a spoon. At least I was going to try to enjoy these last few hours of peace and lack of embarrassing mortification.

Or with about as much peace I was going to get at this time. It's not very restful when you have a concussion and Charlie is screaming at the sports channel right next to you. As hard as I had tried to get out of watching the basketball game, I just couldn't face seeing the look of disappointment on Charlie's face if I had just gotten up and left. In relationships, you give a little to get a little. And all I was getting was a raging migraine.

I zoned out eating my entire carton of ice-cream by myself and by the time I was done, Charlie had already fallen asleep on the couch. There were at least 15 minutes left in the game on the TV, but I figured I would be able to sneak out of the room quietly so I could get a good night's rest.

Another fact about myself: Unless it comes to academic answers, I am always wrong.

Getting up from the couch slowly, I gathered up my glass of water, the empty ice-cream carton, and my spoon, I attempted to skirt around the coffee table. Of course, I kicked it loudly and almost fell on my face. I also dumped the remaining half-glass of water on the floor. Well, at least it was half-glass empty, not half-glass full. The rules of pessimism must be reversed if you are dumping the water out onto a surface that is not supposed to be touched by said water. At least, this time, I didn't drop the glass and break that, too

I scrambled to the kitchen to grab some paper towels and put my dishes in the sink. I wiped up the water pretty quickly and breathed a sigh of relief as I was finally able to seek some rest in my bedroom.

I climbed upstairs to my room and passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow. That night, I dreamed of Lord of the Flies characters eating chocolate ice-cream and playing basketball in the water. Maybe I wasn't dreaming, perhaps I was just on an acid trip instead. It was probably just that weird aspirin.

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

"Son of a bitch." I rolled over and smacked the snooze button on the alarm clock. It was too damn early to get up for school. I gingerly rolled out of bed and got up slowly to make sure my head wasn't swimming too badly. I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a flattering pair of jeans and a purple tank, along with a bra and a pair of underwear. I grabbed a pair of ankle socks and my converse and headed to the bathroom.

After a long and hot shower, I made myself look semi-presentable, took some more trippy aspirin, and prepared myself for the day ahead. I grabbed my school bag from my room, made sure my essay was in there, and brought my stuff downstairs. After dumping my backpack in the entryway, I wandered into the kitchen and began scouring the bare cabinets for any sign of edible breakfast food. Unfortunately, the only thing I found was oatmeal. I shuddered and grumbled unhappily to myself as I boiled some water and got out a bowl. If there was anything I hated more than blood, I would have to say that cheap, instant oatmeal was pretty close. I emptied the packet into the bowl and examined the shriveled and crunchy substance.

"It had better not still be crunchy after I pour in the water." I mumbled to myself.

Once the water was boiling, I added it to my… Delectable treat and retrieved a spoon. I sat down, and took a spoonful. Promptly, I managed to burn my tongue and throat.

"Mother-fucking god-damn piece of-FUUUUUCK!" I roared at my oatmeal. I quickly got myself some water and downed the entire glass. I threw the rest of the gluey breakfast goo in the trash and grabbed myself a 100-calorie granola bar snack. A much safer option.

I heard a knock on the door and froze cold. "Shit."

I had completely forgotten that Mike had become my chauffeur. Well, considering our kiss from the other night, and how I ended it, this was going to be awkward.

I tripped while running to the door and my knee clipped a door frame, causing an extremely sharp pain to bolt through my entire right side. I opened the door while tears threatened to form in my eyes.

"Well, good morning sunshine!" Mike exclaimed, standing there in a polo shirt and some jeans with a bright smile on his face, looking a bit nervous. Quickly, the smile transformed to a look of concern once he noticed I was in a fair bit of pain. "Are you alright? What's wrong, Bella?" he asked.

I leaned against the doorway for some support. However, it wasn't necessarily because I hurt my leg. I was just thunderstruck. Mike looked like an Abercrombie model; I just couldn't help being blown away by his gorgeousness every time I saw him. Perhaps I would never get over this side-effect of Mike. Then again, perhaps I didn't want to.

He shifted his weight a little bit and I noticed he looked a bit uncomfortable. Then I realized that I had been silently staring at him for long time and the last time I had seen him, I had slammed a door in his face. Oops, my bad. My mind finally began processing again and I stood up, putting weight on my bad leg and falling forward.

And guess whose arms caught me as I fell? I suppose I was both cursed and blessed with this clumsiness. Mike and his strong, muscle-y arms set me back on balance and I profusely apologized many times for my failing at life. And then, at the end of my extended apologies, I also added, "And good morning to you, too."

Mike looked at me a bit concerned, shook his head as if to clear it, and looked at a watch he was wearing on his wrist. Hmm, I hadn't noticed that before. Pretty expensive-looking watch. Huh.

"Um, as much as I would like to stay and talk with you all day, Bella, we kind of have to leave for school now." Mike said, awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot.

I blushed and apologized again. I took a deep breath and quickly spouted off the real and necessary apology, just so I could get it out there. "And, Mike, I am really sorry for closing the door so abruptly the other night. I feel like a huge butt because of it and that kiss was really sweet and nice, and… And I just don't know what I was thinking." I anxiously waited for either a reply or utter rejection.

Mike nodded a few times and said, "Hey, it's no problem, I'm sorry if I pushed any boundaries." He shrugged his shoulders.

I sighed in relief as I thought about how, sometime, I would like to see him push said boundaries again. Harder.

He glanced at his watch again. "Or we could be a bit late for school." Then Mike smirked, "Or we could just skip..."

Oh, always the bad boy. Since the problem was averted and we were kind of back to normal, I rolled my eyes and got back into the routine of flirting with Mike.

"You wish, buddy," I replied with a wink.

I hobbled over to my backpack and slung it awkwardly over one shoulder. I walked back over to the front door and turned to close it. While doing so, Mike stole my backpack and slung it over his own shoulder. I narrowed my eyes and wondered what he was up to.

"Uh, Mike, I need that. You know, for school."

"Yeah?" he replied, "Well, concussed people should not carry heavy objects." I gave him a strange look as he bopped me on the tip of my nose with his forefinger. "And especially clumsy, concussed people should not carry heavy objects either. So that means that I am carrying this around, along with any of your stuff, to and from classes today."

I cocked my head. "Oh, well then, thank you." I genuinely replied, and we began to walk towards his car.

"No problem, I try to help out when I can, be a good guy, all macho, yah know?"

"Mhm, a perfect gentleman." I sighed to myself.

"I'm sorry? What did you just say?" Mike asked.

I mentally face-palmed at myself for not controlling my mind-to-mouth connection again. "I said 'totally macho, Mike.' Totally macho." I lied smoothly.

He opened the car door for me and I got in. He got into the driver's seat, flung my backpack into the back seat, and I prepared myself for another scary car-ride from hell.

Luckily, we arrived there safely, and on time (on account of Mike's 80 miles per hour navigating through any straight stretches of roadway). I sighed as we pulled into the parking lot, not particularly excited for another long and torturous day of school.

At least I had something to look forward to after such a long and boring day. After all, Mike was giving me a ride home, too.

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