If you're still around, thanks for reading! Chapters are going to be a little shorter from here on out, because I want to update regularly. If you have any critiques or suggestions, let me know about them. As always, this material belongs to Stephenie Meyer and I am merely a purveyor of ideas. This chapter has been slightly updated to clean up some writing mistakes and ensure continuity.

Bella's diary, the week of January 23.

Monday

Dear diary,

Edward fucking Cullen.

Which is all I have to say on that subject.

Today happened. Tyler made everyone sign his cast, even me. He also apologized about a thousand times. It almost makes me wish that he had broken his jaw so that he couldn't talk.

No, that's mean. That's really mean and I'm sorry. The attention is just overwhelming. I wish he would take my forgiveness at face value instead of continuing to apologize and offering to make it up to me. I'm fine, my truck is fine, he's the one who came out of the accident worse for wear.

I guess it's ironic that born-and-bred northwesterner Tyler was the one who caused an ice-related accident, instead of my southwestern self. Somewhere the universe is having a good chuckle.

Mr. Varner assigns too much homework, in my humble opinion. This may be because I already have a burning hatred for anything and everything related to Trig, but I honestly don't see how describing the lengths and angles of various triangles with trigonometric relationships is supposed to help me with anything I might run into in the real world. If I were going to be an engineer, sure, but journalism doesn't involve that much advanced math, as far as I am aware. If it did, I probably wouldn't be nearly as interested in it as a career, if I'm being entirely honest.

No, you know what, I do have more to say about Edward Cullen. He's pretending that I don't exist. He's not even being subtle about it. It's annoying. I'm used to being a nonentity, but nobody has taken it quite so far before. I asked him a question about biology, and I was perfectly nice about it, even though he was such a dick to me on Thursday, and he just kept staring into space like I hadn't even spoken.

He's hiding something. I know he is. There's no other explanation for it. He thinks that ignoring me is going to make me go away. Maybe I should. I should ignore him. I shouldn't deign to give him any attention after the way he's treated me. I could ask Mr. Banner to change seats in Biology. I could pretend that he doesn't exist.

No, that would make me just as childish as he's being. But maybe I should just leave it all alone.

Tuesday

Dear diary,

Tonight I watched some of the Lord of the Rings trilogy on cable while doing my homework. Charlie didn't complain even once, he just watched it along with me. I know he didn't understand most of it but it was still nice to hang out with him.

I feel bad about goofing off, but all work and no play… or whatever. I needed some time to relax and stop thinking about school and… people. Getting angry about the way that Arwen called down the flood in the Ford of Bruinen instead of Elrond, the holder of Nenya—but I don't need to convince myself. Anyway, getting angry about things I feel like the movie adaptations could have handled better is a lot better than getting angry about things that are happening in my life.

I called Renee after I finished my homework and we had a nice chat before she had to go to bed. She's so ridiculously happy about Phil – she tries not to say so, but it leaks out around the edges. I'm really glad for her. I really think that Phil has made her a better person… I mean, not that she wasn't a good person before. But he brings out the best in her, and I think she's a good influence on him too. I don't really think about who I'll end up with someday, but I hope our relationship is like that. I'd like to date someone who makes me the best version of myself.

I've eaten pasta three days in a row. I need to buy more veggies, so it's lucky that the farmer's market will be around this week. I'll have to look for freezable things, I guess. Do Brussels sprouts freeze well? I should find out. I need a shopping list.I saw a really good recipe for a sweet potato scramble that had mushrooms and squash and beets. Being a vegetarian is fun!

Wednesday

Dear diary,

Jackie called today. I was really happy to hear from her. Neither of us are the type to really reach out all that much, but I miss her. We talked about the boy she wants to date and the book she's reading for English and she helped me with my Spanish and I helped her with her Biology. I didn't complain to her about Forks more than once or twice, although I did mention my near death experience. I especially didn't mention a certain someone.

I miss Jackie. I miss Phoenix. I mean, I remember all the reasons that it sucks – it's too hot, it's too crowded, it's…

But I miss it. I was a nonentity, but at least nobody hated me. God, that sounds so selfish. I'm miserable in a perfectly good town just because one stupid person. No, I'm not miserable. I'm just being dramatic. Edward Cullen brings out the tragic stage actress in me. What is it about him? No, I'm fixating and I need to stop.

I'm writing a book report about Breakfast at Tiffany's. I'm not even cheating by basing it on the movie (but I totally checked it out from the library and watched it anyway. Audrey Hepburn is a great actress and I love her)! I like the theme of slowly getting to know someone who is a lot deeper than they seem. People like Renee wear their heart on their sleeve and you always know what you're going to get from them, but sometimes you want… more. Maybe that's why she didn't work out with Charlie. He seems like the kind of guy who wants more, although you wouldn't know it to look at him. If I write about this for even another second, somebody is going to end up creeping back in and I don't want that, so I'm going to go lie on my bed and listen to something mind-numbingly loud.

Thursday

Dear diary,

Fuck it. If that boy pointedly ignores me one more time, I'm going to scream. Or punch him (no, I won't punch him). Or ask Mr. Banner for a seat-change. Jake won't text me back and Billy won't text Charlie back and it's making both of us miserable. Not that we'd say so in so many words. He's cleaning and organizing his (clean, organized) fishing kit with the kind of intensity that stems from deep emotional disturbance, and I'm cleaning and organizing my (clean, organized) kitchen with the same kind of intensity, and both of us are pretending that everything is fine. It's fine. Everything is fine.

I'm cooking an easily-reheatable meal for Charlie's dinner tomorrow night because I'll be going dress shopping with Jessica and Angela. It's not that he can't cook for himself (he's actually very good at it), but feeding people makes me feel better and he might not think of eating if he's still polishing his fishhooks or whatever is going on in the other room. Anyway, shopping. That's something to take my mind off of my unreasonable fixation on a certain person. Lauren didn't bother me this much when she was making catty remarks, so why am I reacting so badly to this? Maybe because I've never been hated before. Tolerated, neglected, and disliked, sure, but never… hated. Is this what being a hard-hitting journalist will feel like? I don't think I like it. Anyway, shopping. I've never gone dress-shopping before. I hope I have fun. But Jessica and Angela are nice, so I probably will.

(It's definitely not fine.)