Chapter 9

Well, I'm not so sure Bella appreciated my ode. Personally, I thought it was pretty awesome and probably one of my better poems. When I read it to her over the phone that night Bella giggled, although she then told me I was very sweet to write it. The fact remained that she did laugh, and it sort of hurt my feelings. I can handle being mocked by my brother, embarrassed by my dad, but to have the girl I'm crushing hard on laugh at me? Honestly, it sucked. Yeah, I was a bit butt hurt.

It got me thinking. Girls didn't like guys who were dorky and awkward like I was. If I was going to keep Bella as my girlfriend – and, technically, I still didn't even know if I could call her that – I was going to have to change. And for change to happen I needed to talk to someone who was an expert in knowing what a girl wants in a guy. I knew exactly who to turn to.

Rosalie.

I can picture you shaking your head but what other resources did I have available to me? Jasper who still threw out the occasional masturbation joke? Jake who played Minecraft until his eyes were bleeding? Mom or Dad who knew far too much about anal sex play? No, thank you. Besides, who knew Bella the best? Rosalie.

I asked in my nicest possible voice for her to give me some pointers, and she agreed. Okay, I actually had to beg and also pay her, but the point was she agreed to help me out. Rose had me stand in the middle of her room and turn around slowly so she could do her assessment. I wiggled my ass and she gagged, telling me she was going to have to charge extra for emotional abuse.

"First of all, the clothes – all wrong." She dismissed them with a wave of her hand.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I looked down at my baggy jeans and t-shirt. I did the armpit smell test and I wasn't even the slightest bit funky. Okay, maybe there was a hint but barely anything. A spritz of Axe would clear that right up.

"You're the complete opposite of a hipster. Everyone who's anyone is a hipster."

I knew I was way out of the cool zone when I had no idea what that was. When I asked, Rose hung her head down and shook it in disappointment.

"A hipster is someone who's original and doesn't conform to what's popular."

I scratched my head. "But if everyone's a hipster isn't that what's popular?"

Rosalie huffed, obviously frustrated with me.

"It's about having your own style that's similar but not exactly the same as anyone else. Take your jeans. Nobody's wear baggy jeans; Hipsters wear skinny jeans."

"Skinny jeans?" I didn't like the sound of it already.

"Yup. The tighter the better."

"You do realize I have balls right? Balls won't like tight jeans."

"You're acting like your balls are like 10 inches big. They're more like 2.8 to 3.9 inches long, 1.8 inches deep, and 2 inches in width. The right testicle is often smaller than the left. So, yeah, they may be a little squished but not enough for them to be deflated or damaged. Relax."

I stared at her with wide eyes. "How and why do you know that information?"

"Do you want Bella as your girlfriend or not?"

"Damn it. Okay, okay. What else?"

"You need to pick up some cool t-shirts. Plain white is so 2012. Find a Smurfs t-shirt, one with a picture of a tree on it, or anything promoting animal rights."

At least my Bart Simpson undies were hipster-ish. If only Bella would take off my pants, she could appreciate them.

"And old concert tees are totally deck."

I had no idea if 'totally deck' was a good thing or a bad thing, so I was going to avoid concert shirts. I felt like I was 50 years old, not 15, and learning a new language.

"And you need a button up shirt to go over top."

I scratched my head.

"But then you won't see the shirt underneath. I'm not getting this."

"I dunno. It's just how it's done. Cool retro shirt under a cardigan or button up."

"A cardigan? What the fuck is a cardigan?"

"A sweater. Like the ugly ones Gramma makes us for Christmas every year. A flannel button up would be super awesome."

Great. According to that theory, Chief was more hipster than I currently was.

"You could also wear a skinny tie but be careful not to wear too many hipster things at once or people will think you're mocking the trend."

Fucking hell, this was confusing shit. Rosalie assured me that the most important thing was to be perfectly mismatched. Sounded like an oxymoron to me.

"And your shoes have to go, too."

"These are Converse; who doesn't like Converse?"

Rose made a face and shook her head. "You need to find Doc Martens."

"Who's Dr. Martin? One of Dad's friends?"

"Nevermind. Keep the Converse. Accessories are uber important. You need to get some glasses."

"Why? My vision's 20/20."

My sister shrugged. "It's all about the accessories. Wear a hat - and not a baseball cap - a knitted one or something with earflaps. One hundred percent, you need to get a scarf and loop it loosely around your neck."

"What if it's hot out? That'll suck." I protested.

"Edward, it doesn't matter. If you're a hipster, you wear a scarf. If you really want to go full-on hipster, you need a couple piercings – lip or eyebrow is good, cheek would be better. Prince Albert would be the ultimate."

I quirked an eyebrow and Rosalie pointed to my crotch. Instinctively I covered up my junk.

"Fuck that shit!"

"It's up to you. I heard Riley Biers has one."

"No fucking way."

Riley Biers was the king shit of the school. Anyone who was anyone, wanted to be him. "Sorry, I don't care how popular or cool you are, no guy in their right mind is going to pierce their dink."

"I heard from Lauren, who heard it from Jessica, who heard it from Jane – Riley's ex-girlfriend."

I made a note to sneak a peak the next time we were showering after gym. I had to hope I didn't get my ass beat down for breaking the cardinal rule of P.E. – don't look down.

"Girls do it, too. It's called a Queen Christina or something like that."

I wondered what would happen if Prince Albert had sex with Queen Christina? Could you imagine if the piercings got stuck together? That would make for one awkward 9-1-1 call, that's for sure. And you know if I had a Prince Albert that would totally happen to me. No, thank you.

"You also need some facial hair." Rosalie snorted as she looked at my baby face. "Good luck with that one."

I frantically took notes as she kept talking.

"Ditch your backpack, and opt for a courier bag. Buy actual vinyl records, not CD's. You should go vegetarian or vegan – goes with the animal rights t-shirts, ya know? Drink copious amounts of coffee, and smoke weed."

"Finally! Something I could get on board with!"

"You on weed?" Rosalie snorted. "That ought to be fun. Oh! Music – no more mainstream Maroon Five or Miley Cyrus for you. It's indie music or Mikal Cronin."

I was going to be downloading tunes all night.

"Shit, there's a lot to remember."

"You have to own the 'I can't be bothered' look, even if it takes planning to get there. The one thing you sort of have going for you is your hair. You want that 'just got out of bed' look."

"Finally! I'm doing something right."

"I said sort of. You have to style it a bit more to get the perfect messed up look."

"I'm supposed to style it so it looks like I didn't actually style it?" I was confused but Rosalie was proud.

"Yes! You're getting it."

There was so much for me to learn, but I was determined to master being a hipster.

"We're not done. You have to be confident and not say or do asinine things."

"Hi. Have you met me?"

Rose laughed. "Good point. Try to be romantic and sweet. Compliment her, a lot."

"I did that. I told Bella her eyes were like bowls of chocolate pudding."

"You're a piece of work. Okay, skip verbally telling her. Write her a love note instead. Tell her how pretty her hair smells or how it makes you feel to kiss her."

"Heh, heh. I feel hard when I kiss her."

"Oh, God. Please don't tell her that."

"I wrote Bella a poem. More like an ode to her boobs. I touched them, you know." I beamed.

"First of all, eww - my brother feeling up my bestie. Second, you didn't text her the poem, did you?"

"No."

"Thank God."

"I read it to her over the phone."

Rosalie shook her head. "Oy! What else did you say?"

I recited what I could remember of the ode and was severely reprimanded for even mentioning Mom. Apparently that was a major buzz kill. Who knew?

"Look, we all know you're a virgin, but girls want a guy who's got some kind of experience. We don't want you taking ten minutes fumbling around trying to unhook our bra, or over-thinking when you should be kissing us. Confidence is key. Even if you don't know what you're doing, fake it. Act cocky, but don't be a douchebag. It's a fine line so be careful."

Rosalie gave me a lot of pointers that day, and specific things I should say that I stored in my memory to use later. I planned to write some things on my hand so I wouldn't forget.

I asked, more like begged, to borrow one of her bras to practice unhooking it but that was a no go. It was worth a shot.

After our talk, Mom agreed to take Rosalie and me to downtown Port Angeles to do some shopping. We poked through the vintage store and found some great buys. The one positive thing about the new trend was that second hand clothes were pretty cheap.

Later that night I asked Rosalie for her honest opinion on the outfit I'd chosen. I assumed the position and turned around for her. I would have wiggled my ass again but my jeans were far too tight.

"I love it. You actually clean up nice. Hey, if you need help getting ready, just ask. I'll be around in the morning."

"Thanks." I paused in the doorway of her room. "Can I ask you a question? Why are you being so nice to me? Is this all going to backfire on me?"

"I'm not jerking you around here, Edward. I'm doing this for Bella. She's my best friend and for some strange reason she kind of likes you. You'd be cute together, you just need some…refinement."

I glazed over the part where she said I needed refinement. "Bella kind of likes me, huh?"

"God knows why."

I fist pumped myself. Awesome.

"Well, thank you, for everything."

"You're welcome. Good night."

"Night."

I still had no idea if I could pull off the mismatched hipster look, but I sure as hell was going to try. Come Monday, Bella was going to meet the new and improved Edward Cullen. 'Awkward' would no longer be my middle name.

Before bed, I wrote another poem; this one I would keep to myself.

I bought new clothes today

I hope my new look blows Bella away.

For her I'll wear a skinny jean

Even if it squishes my balls and peen

I really want to be hip and cool

So she's not embarrassed to be seen with me at school

I pray I can pull it off

I really don't want Bella to scoff.

Rosalie said we'd be cute together

I sure hope so - I want that girl forever.

Thanks Cappy, Maple, and Lolo for pre-reading and beta-ing. I tweak long after they've looked over so mistakes are mine. Thanks to each of you for reading, reviewing, and recommending this fic. Love you a whole lot!