Hey all! Thank you for the loverlyyy reviews last chap and this chap. Anyway, there will be another time jump to Halloween in the next chap and I decided that something needed to be added to the end of this chapter, so I added something. Hope you enjoy re-reading (:

X&Y

"Lil Wayne is not the best lyricist out there," I said.

"Yes, he is!" Emmett declared as we walked down the streets of mid-town.

"No, he is not. Anyone who says stuff like 'My sex game is stupid, my head is the dumbest, I promise I should be hooked on phonix,' is definitely not the greatest lyricist ever."

Emmett chuckled, "Well in that case, 'You're not beautiful, you're beyond it.'"

I rolled my eyes, "Seriously, Emmett, I don't know how you can listen to that chauvinistic, female-demeaning crap."

"Chill out, Miss. Feminist—"

"I'm not a feminist, I just think that song is ridiculous," I paused, "I mean he calls the female reproductive system filet mignon."

He scoffed, "Well at least he didn't call it a pork chop or something, geez."

I couldn't help but laugh, Emmett was such a guy and such a simple person. He was Emmett, big and tall, and he did not give a shit. Sometimes I wish I could be as passive as him. "Well, I guess I'd rather be called a fine piece of meat than a piece of a pig," I snorted.

"That's the spirit!" Emmett cheered. "So, you got any big plans for this Saturday night, Cinderbella?"

"Are you, gasp, asking me out on a date?" I asked, sarcastically. "If so, make sure my horse drawn carriage and fairy god mother are there around eight."

"Done. Just make sure not to forget your shoe at the end at the end of the night," he laughed. "Or dress, in my case."

I smacked his shoulder, "Get your head out of the gutter, Fabio."

"Can't. I'm a guy and we think about sex like every fifteen seconds or something," he said, looking down at his imaginary watch. "Oh! Thirteen more seconds and my head's back to thinking about sex."

"Shut up," I laughed. "So what's the deal with you asking if I'm free tonight?"

"What? You don't think I would want to spend some time with one of my very best friends I haven't hung out with in a while?" He mocked being offended.

I grinned, "So that means you dumped the blonde from Bungalow 8?"

"What blonde girl?" His voice was so innocent that I almost believed him.

"The one you spent all night grinding on…"

"Oh," he said. "Her. Yeah, I ended that a few days ago."

"The sex was that bad?" I joked.

"Actually, it was pretty mind-blowing," he mused. "But she wanted to get all attached and shit and I couldn't have that."

"Right," I said. "No female shall take your bachelor hood."

He brushed the imaginary dirt of his shoulders, "You know, you know."

I laughed, gripping my coffee cup, "So what's the big plan for tonight?"

"Well, I thought you, me, and Jasper could go to the Knicks game—"

"Knicks, as in, the basketball team?"

"Yes."

"Sorry," I replied. "I'm all Knicked-out."

"Bell-ahhh," he whined.

"No, Emmett. I'm not a fan of basketball or any sport, really," I said. "But I hope you and Jazz have a bitchin' time, though."

He pouted, "We will. We'll have the bitchinest time ever."

I chuckled, "I believe that's not a word."

"What are you, the Dictionary Police?" He jokingly asked. "You're such a party pooper."

"That's me, big ol' party pooper," I grinned.

He pouted again, "So what are you gonna do tonight without your fave ever guys?"

"Work on my Bio project."

"You know, you're probably the most boring teenager in New York," Emmett stated.

"You know Jasper once said the same thing, must mean it's true," I paused, "but anyway, the project is worth like 30% of our grade this semester. It's mid-October now and we haven't even started."

"Who's we?"

"Edward and me."

"Oh," he said, sounding all innuendo-y.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"What?"

"That 'oh,'" I answered. "It was filled with all sorts of implications."

"No, it wasn't."

I gave him a look.

"Fine," he said. "You guys have been spending a lot of time together lately."

"And?" I prodded.

"Nothing," he paused. "It's just that…well, what's going on with you and Cullen?"

"There's nothing going on between me and Edward," I vehemently denied, as I felt my cheeks get hot.

Emmett gave me a disbelieving look. "There isn't! I swear. And we're not always together."

"Yes, you are. Every time I've called you to come over and hang out, you were always with him, or about to go hang out with him."

"Do you even know what the term 'hang out' means?" I questioned. "Because it's clear to me that you don't. 'Hanging out' is a term referred to friends, which Edward and I are not, and 'hanging out' is also usually voluntary, the time that spend with Edward is mandatory because it usually for school-related stuff."

Emmett rolled his eyes, "Fine. So why couldn't you hang out Thursday night?"

"I was busy," I replied.

"Doing what?"

"Edward and I were studying for Bio," I reluctantly told him.

"Are you sure you guys weren't studying Anatomy?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"No!" I exclaimed, feeling my cheeks burn. I probably looked like a tomato at this point.

"Fine," he said. "But next time someone asks you about him, make sure not to blush as much." He took a sip of his coffee, "And by the way, it's okay if you like him, Edward's a good guy. I approve."

"I don't like hi—"

"Okay. But I'm just letting you know, for future reference. I approve."

"Whatever," I said, hoping this part of the conversation would be over. "So—" I started, but I was cut off by the sound of my phone ringing.

I make them good girls go bad
I make them good girls go bad
You were hanging in the corner
With your five best friends
You heard that I was trouble
But you couldn't resist
I make them good gi—

I'm gonna kill him for changing my ringtone, I thought as looked down at the caller I.D. "I'm gonna kill you for changing my ringtone," I said, answering the phone.

"You know you love it," he said. "I'm sure it reminds you of a pretty good time."

I could just imagine him smirking. "Whatever. What do you want?"

"Ouch," he said. "And here I thought we were gonna have a nice, civilized, conversation."

"Well, like many times, you thought wrong, Edward."

At the sound of Edward's name, Emmett whipped his head from his cell phone, toward me, "The old ball and chain, huh?"

I rolled my eyes, ignoring his comment while Edward prattled on about some idea for our Bio project. "…We could do punnett squares for each of us and do the whole baby thing to see what the probability was for us from our parents…"

"Uh-huh," I answered absentmindedly.

"You're not paying attention, are you?" He asked.

"Not really," I said.

"Well in that case, I'm coming over, so I can explain it all to you in person."

"I'm not at home," I said.

"Well, where are you then?"

"You just want to see my pretty face, don't you?" I asked as I heard Emmett gasp. Shit.

"You got me," he said. "That's the primary reason. But I have to explain the Bio stuff to you."

I rolled my eyes, "Fine. We're in mid-town."

"Well, gee, that narrows it down."

"I'll meet you at that Starbucks near Times Square," I replied.

"Sounds good," he said, clicking off.

"Secret rendezvous?" Emmett asked.

"It's not a secret if you know about it," I deadpanned. "And we're just meeting to discuss our project."

"Sure, sure," Emmett said.

I rolled my eyes, "Can you walk me back to Starbucks?"

"Sure."

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting at a booth in Starbucks as Edward went on about "punnett squares," and "recessive and dominant genes."

"I still don't get it," I said.

"What part?"

"Um, all of it?"

"Okay, slow one, basically we're gonna do punnett squares for us. Like, the probability of your eye color and hair color and stuff."

"Do an example."

He grabbed a napkin and asked one of the Starbucks employees for a pen and Jim (the employee) happily obliged which wasn't a surprise because the Starbucks employees are so nice. "What's your Dad's eye color?"

"Brown."

"What's your Mom's?"

"Renee's eye color is blue," I replied, my tone sounding a bit harsh.

"Why don't you just call her Mom?" He questioned.

"There's nothing maternal about her," I said.

He gave me a prodding look.

"She's not around," I answered. "Haven't you noticed that in all the pictures we have at my house, there is not one with a maternal figure?"

"Well, yeah," he said. "But um, if you don't mind me asking—"

"I mind," I said, cutting him off. "And I get what we're doing so you can come over tonight and we can start on it—"

"Can't," he said. "I already have plans."

"Hot date?"

"Like I said, I'm busy, but maybe another time," he winked.

I rolled my eyes, "So whatcha doing tonight?"

"I'm going to some party with Rosalie," he said. "You should come along too."

"You, me, and Rosalie? I think I'll pass."

"Okay, Miss. Boring," he said, scrawling down something else on another napkin. "Well, in case you change your mind."

He handed me the napkin, "I won't."

He ignored my comment, "Well, just in case you start to miss me, that's the address."

"Whatever," I said, as both of us got up, getting ready to part ways.

"See you Monday," I said when we were outside of Starbucks.

"See you tonight," he smirked.

"Well, I hope you enjoy your disappointment when you don't see me tonight," I said.

He ignored me again, "Save me a dance."

"Goodbye," I said, walking away.

"Bye beautiful!" He shouted so loudly that a few people actually turned around to look at me.

Later that night, I sat in my room listening to my iPod, bored out of my mind. I had already listened to all of Parachutes by Coldplay and now I was listening their second album: A Rush of Blood to the Head and that's how I planned on spending my night, lost in the lyrics of Chris Martin.

But after a while that got boring. I mean I'd already heard all of their songs a million times and I felt lonely since Charlie was off working on a case in the Bronx and Alice ended up going to the Knicks game with Emmett and Jasper.

I could go to the party, I mused but then alarm bells went off in my head, as I took the address out of my pocket. There was no way I could go to that party because then Edward would be right and he would be all smirky-smirky and all 'I knew you would come, Bella. You're just obsessed with me,' and shit and I didn't want to deal with all of that.

But I was bored. And let's face it; I wanted to go to the party. But not to see Edward or anything. Emmett had it totally wrong.

But about an hour later when I gave in and went to the party, I was somewhat doubting myself when I saw Edward. The annoying, nagging butterflies that I hated were back again. He looked good.

No, he looked fine. With a 'y' inside of 'i.'

He was clean-shaven, and his hair was in that usual disarray of bronze copper. He was wearing blue jeans and white button down shirt and when I saw him, he was talking to some red haired girl who was laughing at something he said. It looked like they were having a pretty good conversation, so instead of interrupting to say 'hi' or something to that effect I went to the kitchen to find non-alcoholic drink.

When I got to the kitchen, the sight in front of me was no surprise. Instead of cheap beer and vodka like most house parties teenager threw had, this party had Stella Artois beer and Stoli Elit vodka. I rolled my eyes as I looked around the kitchen for the fridge to find a bottle of water. There was no way I was drinking again.

Ah! There it is, I thought, walking towards it and the guy who was standing in front of it. When I got to where the fridge was, I realized that the guy standing in front of it was Mike Newton. Ugh.

"So are you gonna move or…?" I snapped.

He turned towards me, "Well hello there, Bella."

"Hi," I said. "Move."

He ignored my rude tone and kept talking, "You know, you never really talk to me at school. It sort of hurts my feelings."

"I'm talking to you now, aren't I?"

He shrugged, "So Bella, are you Italian?"

I stared at him in oblivion. It must be really easy to be rich and dumb.

"Because Italian chicks are hot!"

"Um, no. I'm not Italian."

"But your name's Bella…"

I rolled my eyes but he kept talking. "So what's the deal with you and Cullen? You guys are always together at school."

God, can't two people just be frenemies in peace?! "Nothing's going on between Edward and I."

"Good," he said, getting a little closer.

"And nothing will ever happen between you and me," I retorted.

"Why not?" He asked. "Is there something wrong with me?"

I deeply sighed, preparing to lay it on him when someone grabbed my arm, pulling me away. It was Edward.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked.

"Um, because I didn't want you to be the reason that Mike Newton develops low self esteem?"

I chuckled, "I'm not that mean."

"Right," he said, "you're worse."

I shrugged, "So you can do it now."

"Do what?"

"You know what?"

"I'm pretty sure I don't know what."

"You can gloat and smirk and at me and be all self-loving and stuff," I replied.

He chuckled, "Aw, you thought about my smile?"

I scoffed, "Whatever. It's not like it's dazzling or anything."

"I dazzle you?" He grinned.

"Are you deaf?" I asked. "I just said it wasn't—"

"And it's already been established that you're in denial so I chose to ignore your last statement."

I rolled my eyes, changing the subject, "So who was the red head?"

"Why? Are you jealous?" He smirked.

I played along, "Maybe."

"Her name's Victoria and she's completely obsessed with me."

"That makes the two of you."

He chuckled, "Silly Bella, that makes the three of us." He tilted his head to the side, "I'm just so dazzling, I can't help it."

"I hope you know that you're really into yourself…"

"You can't love others without loving yourself first," he winked.

"Right," I said. "Then you sure must be ready to love others."

"Yeah, well you know, there is this one girl who could be considered an 'other,' I actually think you know her," he said. "She has chocolate brown hair, brown eyes, and is very sarcastic."

That feeling in my stomach came back now, full force as we looked at each other. "I don't think I do," I replied, tearing my gaze from his, as I saw the red head – Victoria heading toward us. Just as she was about to approaches us, I opened my mouth. "I, um, I'll talk to you later."

"Where are you going?" I heard him ask, but I didn't reply. I just kept walking. I didn't exactly know where I was headed, but I didn't want to be around Edward or fire crotch for that matter.

I should just go and hide out in a bedroom for the rest of night, I thought. The idea did sound sort of appealing. I could hide out for an hour or so and then leave without looking like I came to the party to just see Edward. Which, you know, I didn't.

All of these thoughts were running through my head as I looked for a spare bedroom until I finally found one. I sat on the floor on the side of the bed that was facing the wall, took out my iPod from my purse and plugged in my headphones, letting the words of X&Y and the darkness of the bedroom consume me.

I dive in at the deep end
You become my best friend
I wanna love you but I don't know if I can
I know something is broken
and I'm trying to fix it
Trying to repair it anyw—

The last few words were cut off by the sound of the door opening. What the hell? I thought as I heard footsteps shuffling and something that sounded a lot like kissing. I turned around to the silhouettes of a guy and girl, making their way to the bed.

Oh, fuck no. They were gonna have sex.

In front of me.

Congratulations, Bella Swan, you have just received front row tickets to a porno!

I was about to get up, but the guy and girl plopped onto the bed, kissing. The guy looked eager and excited while the girl looked sort of out of it.

"Rose, baby, you okay?" The guy asked. Rose…Rosalie? I thought.

Rosalie just grunted a little, and the guy kept kissing her. I have got to get out of here, I thought as Rosalie grunted again, but the guy kept kissing her and pretty soon he moved onto unzipping her pants.

"Royce," her voice was barely audible and very slurry. "No."

"Okay," he replied, kissing her again.

After a few minutes of some more kissing, I figured I should just get up and run out of the room. I mean, I didn't want to be here.

Royce or whatever the guy's name was went for her zipper again and Rosalie kept grunting, mumbling something that sounded like she didn't want her pants unzipped.

What the fuck is this guy doing?!

But Royce didn't listen, he kept unzipping her pants, and Rosalie was still grunting. "Stop," she finally whimpered. He didn't listen. "What are you—"

I cut her off, "DOING, YOU ASSHOLE?!" I screeched. "Get your filthy ass hands off of her!"

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm the girl that's about to kick your ass," I said, getting up and pushing him off of her.

"Don't touch me, bitch!" He yelled pushing me.

"Get the fuck off of her!" I screamed, kicking him as hard as I could. While Royce was groaning on the floor, I woke Rosalie up as much as I could and got her up on her feet, slinging my hand around her shoulder to keep her from falling when she walked. She was pretty wasted and I am pretty positive this dickwad slipped something into her drink.

When we slipped out of the bedroom, I immediately started shouting for Edward. Within a few seconds he was face to face with us. He looked over at Rosalie and then at me. "What happened?"

"This guy, I think he slipped something into her drink and—"

Edward's eyes turned a darker shade of green, "Did he—"

"No," I said. "He tried, but I stopped him."

"Is she okay?" he asked.

"I think she just needs to sleep it off," I replied.

He nodded, "Who was it?"

"Royce something."

As soon as the name exited out of my mouth, Edward turned in the other direction and started walking. "What are you doing?"

"I need to take care of something," he replied.

"Edward d—"

He cut me off, "Look, just go downstairs and get a cab, I'll be there in a few minutes."

I was about to tell him that Royce wasn't worth it and some other crap, but I knew it wouldn't change his mind. Besides, Royce had it coming.

Twenty minutes later, after Edward came to the cab, bruised hand and all, we were finally at my house. Rosalie was still, for the most part, pretty out of it, but we looked some stuff up online on Edward's iPhone during the cab ride to my house about roofies and it looked like she would be okay – she just needed to sleep it off and she might have some minor memory loss from tonight, but I think that's a good thing because what happened tonight wasn't exactly something one would like to remember.

"She's gonna be okay," I said to Edward when I walked back into my room to find him watching Rosalie, a guilty look on his face.

"I was supposed to watch out for her," he said. "And this is what happens."

"It's not your fault," I said.

He didn't say anything; he just kept looking at Rosalie's sleeping form.

"Stop beating yourself up over it, you couldn't have known any better—"

"But I should've," he said, wincing as he moved his hand.

"Does it hurt?"

"No pain, no gain," he said, full of bravado.

"Well, it looks like it does," I paused, "so I'm gonna go get you some ice."

As I was putting the ice in the Ziplock bag for Edward, I thought about how wrong I'd been about him. I mean, I wasn't completely wrong about him, because as everyone knows, I am right, like, all the time, but I was sort of wrong this one time.

Edward wasn't as bad of a guy as I'd originally thought. Yes, he's annoying (because he's such a smart ass) and he's sarcastic and narcissistic as hell but he was okay, I guess. Nothing too special about him, I thought as the butterflies in my stomach started going crazy.

When I got back to my room, ice pack in hand, I was sort of surprised at what I saw. Edward wasn't watching Rosalie anymore. He was looking at the pictures on my photo collage I'd been made last year. It had pictures on it ranging from my times as a toddler to pictures from this year.

I coughed, and he looked back at me. But he didn't gave a that I-was-just-creeping-around-your-room expression on his face, instead he looked a little curious.

He wanted to know about my Mom.

Nosy ass, I thought, handing him the ice pack. We sat in silence for a little bit, Edward, right next to me, leaning onto my windows sill just watching Rosalie. Me, looking up some more information on roofies on my laptop.

When I looked up from the screen, the guilty expression his face was back. I didn't know why, but I just wanted him to stop feeling guilty about it, he did nothing wrong. It wasn't his fault.

I just, for some strange reason, wanted to make him feel better so I just started talking.

"She left when I was five," I blurted out for some unknown reason. I should've cracked a joke or something, but instead I started telling him about my family drama.

"What?" He asked.

"Renee – my mother, she left when I was five," I repeated.

"I'm sorry," he said, turning his body towards mine.

I put my laptop on my desk and turned so I was facing him. "Yeah. She pretty much abandoned me and my Dad after he lost his job for accusing the police chief of that time for corruption, which by the way he was totally being corrupt because my Dad ended up becoming Chief after him.

"Anywho, she left two days after my Dad came home and told us the news," I sighed. "She didn't want to be poor again. You know, screw the fact that she had a five year old daughter at home, she just didn't want to be poor."

I rolled my eyes at the last statement, "Anyway, when she said she was leaving, my Dad, being the good man that he is, tried convincing her to stay because what would she out in the big city by herself? She was just an accountant at Chase, she wouldn't exactly be able to buy an apartment by herself. He said they could make it work for me.

"Little did he know she was secretly plowing the head of the bank. Another middle class American is screwed over by a corporate American," I shook my head. "And yeah, she left and never came back. Neither of us have heard from her since."

"I'm sorry," he said again.

I shrugged, "It's no biggie. All of us have our issues."

"Yeah," he faintly smiled. "But anyway, I think your Mom's the one missing out."

"How so?" I asked.

"Well, I don't know your Dad all that well, but from the few conversations that I've had with him, he seems pretty cool," he paused, "and you, well, she's missing out on a lot there."

"Right," I sarcastically said.

"She is," he said, his tone serious. "Even though we bicker all the time, I can see what type of person you are. You're smart. You're kind, witty. You're funny, sarcastic, and you're beautiful."

When he said that, I suddenly realized how close we were. I became hyper aware of everything. I was aware of how our knees touched, as I sat in my computer chair and he leaned on the window sill, I was aware of how his eyes were a million different shades of green, but mostly I was aware of how much I wanted to kiss him at that moment.

He looked into my eyes and I looked back at him as we both leaned in closer. At this point, I could smell him. He smelled like laundry detergent and some really good smelling cologne. He leaned in and I leaned in and our foreheads were almost touching—

Rosalie grunted loudly, sticking her head up, "I, um, I…what am I doing here?" She asked.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

Edward quickly rushed over to her, asking her how she was feeling, but she just kept staring at me. I guess, she too, thought it was weird that she was at my house, sleeping on my bed.

She answered Edward's questions and she said she wanted to go home. She looked pale and I could tell by the stoic look on her face that she knew about what had almost happened to her.

Five minutes later, after Rosalie assured Edward she was okay enough to go home, they were both heading out the door. Edward looked like he was about to say something to me, about our almost kiss and I didn't want him to because I was already confused enough as it is and I didn't want to deal with all of the consequences so before he could start talking, I started.

"See you later," I said.

He nodded. "G'Night, Bella," he smiled.

And when I shut the door, I found myself, smiling back as well.

As I was walking up the steps to Constance, I heard someone call my name. "Swan," the voice said. I didn't even have to turn around to know it was Rosalie. She was, after all, the only person who called me by my last name.

I hadn't talked to her since Saturday night and I was sort of worried. Even though we weren't exactly best friends or anything, I never wished anything bad upon her and I genuinely felt bad about what happened to her on Saturday night.

"Hale," I replied, as I walked over to her. I bet she just wanted to say 'thanks' for Saturday or something, I thought.

"Nice shoes," she said snippily, as she looked down at my black, studded boots that we technically weren't supposed to be wearing at school, but the headmistress just needs to get over it.

"Thanks," I sarcastically replied.

"And that sweater--"

"Is part of our school uniform," I said.

"That's why I don't wear it," she replied.

I rolled my eyes, "If this is your way of thanking me for Saturday night than you're sure doing a crappy job."

"What?" She sounded flustered.

I sighed, "Never mind."

I was about to turn and leave when she started talking, "Like I was saying, those boots scream knock off and that sweater is…ghastly."

I rolled my eyes, "Thanks." I turned around and started walking up the steps when I heard her say, "Yeah, you too."

Things are heating up :) Btw, that song that Emmett and Bella were quoting in the begining is called 'Every Girl' by Lil Wayne, Drake, Millz, Gudda Gudda, and some other guy that I forget the name of. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it! I will be posting chap 11 very soon! Oh and Happy One Year Anniversary to this story (: It was published Sept 1st last year and I can't believe I am only on chapter eleven after a year, but um, ya lol.

Review.