AN: Yeah, another short one - but hey, I promised! Honestly, I kinda forced it out so if it seems rushed and choppy then I apologize. Also, I kinda went a different way with the chappy than I originally thought I would, but still, it all builds up to more drama!

One question! Do you guys want some lemony stuff even if it is not completely between Em and Bells? (We haven't gotten to that stage yet, after all!)

Disclaimer: I own the strange situations my mind comes up with and that is all.

January 10th 2005

Bella had never been one for 'girly' things. She hated shopping and never wore make-up and all the girls at school just thought she was weird. (All except dear Angela, who was quite similar.) But her personality didn't matter apparently – because as soon as the junior prom was announced months earlier than it would be held, girls were throwing themselves at Bella. Everyone in school knew about her close relationship with her brother; he adored her, and it was easy to see. His public affection towards her though caused her to become an "in" to Emmett's heart for the girls at school.

Despite the fact that the coming up twenty-year-old had already finished high school and was already working full-time to earn some money for himself and Bella, he was still one of the most sought after guys in the entire school. Heck, the entire city – every female in Phoenix, Arizona practically stalked him!

It wasn't extremely noticeable at first that the supposedly fairer half of her school was trying to be her best friend. It started with a snobby girl who she absolutely detested strutting straight up to Bella when she was trying to collect books from her locker. The girl had demanded for Bella's attention and then talked to her in a 'sweet' voice, smiling fakely.

"Hey there!" The girl narrowed her eyes, smirking. "We should, like, totally have a sleepover or something!"

Now, Bella was a shy person; only Emmett and Angela had really seen her shine. So when this girl came up to her so suddenly, she floundered. Stuttering like an idiot, she stood for two minutes just staring at the girl. Obviously impatient, the snobby slut (and this description fit her amply) curled a clawed arm around Bella's shoulders, squishing her close – but not too close – like they'd known each other for years.

"Yeah, a sleepover," the girl nodded slyly. "I have such great ideas! Hey! Don't suppose your brother will be there, huh?"

And that was when nice Bella was gone. Isabella Swan did not mess around when her brother was concerned. She was still helping him stay away from sluts like this girl, changing his ways slowly. He was always more than happy to do anything she asked and she couldn't let him down by bringing some… girl over.

"No, he won't be there," Bella told the girl curtly, stepping away and closing her locker. "And neither will you."

With that, she walked away, leaving the girl to be the one who stammered with a slack jaw.

The second time an incident like this happened, it was in the school library (her sanctuary away from home) whilst she and Angela were skimming the shelves. A random girl she'd seen always putting her hand up in classes and correcting everyone around her about anything just popped up in front of her like a jack-in-the-box. After another tortuous session of speaking with basically a stranger (numerous glances for help thrown Angela's way), the topic of her brother came up again. On red alert, Bella pushed away from the know-it-all girl and left the library.

For weeks it continued. Bella grew so stressed that she lost sleep and ate less. She dreaded going to school and leaving her brother – who'd grown more and more concerned as her health decreased. She just wanted to get away from the abrupt spotlight that had been shined on her. She hated the popularity; hated attention from anyone who wasn't family; especially excessive amounts of it. It was strangely like a phobia, but the bags that formed beneath her eyes spoke of different nightmares… Ones where her brother was taken away from her by some slut, where he hated her and spat at her and laughed at her romantic feelings for him.

For months now she had succumbed to fantasies of him, as well as the inevitable self-pity that he would never let anything happen between them. She had convinced herself that the scene in their laundry room was a lie – an illusion of her own creation to make her see what she felt for him, leading her to hope he liked her the same way, when really he didn't at all. And to escape the crushing blow that she knew his technical rejection would bring her, she did something she'd never done before.

She agreed to go out on a date.