The Girl With The Glasses
Bella Swan has had a hard life. At 17, she's had to go through her mother dying and moving to Forks where she's known as the nerd with not even one friend. The only thing that keeps her going every day is her art. It's a form of therapy for Bella. So when Edward Cullen steps into her life and tries to befriend her, she doesn't know what to do. Luckily, the one person she trusts the most is there to guide her in the right direction, and helps her find a true friend. AH. **Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight**
2. Second Chances
Rating 5/5 Word Count 2787 Review this Chapter
The next day I came into school and found a note taped to the inside of my locker.
Sorry about yesterday. Jake didn’t mean it. Well maybe he did, but he’s an ass anyways, don’t take it personally. I don’t need a new toy, either. Sorry again.
Oh please. Don’t take it personally? Don’t people know that when you say that, it’s usually taken personally? And does he think a note in his amazingly good handwriting will solve all of our problems? And Jake’s the ass? What about you Edward?
I slammed my locker shut. I need to paint. Only problem is, Mr. Riley has a class first period. So I had to go to Chemistry.
The morning was normal, for me that is. Normal is never the right word to describe anything in my life.
So I go to the art room during lunch and say “hey” to Mr. Riley like I do every day, and everything is still “normal.” Until Edward freaking Cullen walks in. I mentally curse every word there is and end up owing the swear jar a lot of quarters by the time I’m done.
“Hi Edward, what can I do for you?” Mr. Riley asks him. I can feel his eyes on me, but I pretend to be painting and completely oblivious to the conversation happening five feet away from me.
“Um, I was wondering if I could join one of your art classes. I need another credit to stay on the football team,” Edward says.
No way. Mr. Riley doesn’t have any openings in his classes. If he lets Edward into one, he’s officially the worst teacher.
“Well Edward, as I had to tell Bella here, my classes are booked, but if you want to come in for lunch every day, I’m sure I can pull some strings and that count as a credit.”
No! Not lunch! That’s my time. My therapy. Edward Cullen will throw everything off, and I’ll have to try and discover a new form.
“I guess that will have to work. Thanks, Mr. Riley.”
Are you kidding me? Is this seriously happening?
“Great. Let me check with the office right now. You stay here, and I’ll come back and tell you if it’s a done deal.”
And he left.
Just left me alone with Edward.
I get up and go to the back of the art room to grab a paint brush that was the right size to paint a human eye. I’m avoiding any contact with him whatsoever, and if he thinks he’s going to invade my space for 30 minutes every day, then he better get use to the silence.
I turn to go back to my stool, but stop when I see Edward staring at my canvas. Great, I thought, one more thing for him to criticize me on.
Believe me when I say I didn’t see the words that came out of his mouth coming.
“This is really good, Bella.”
I was floored, to say the least. Who is this guy?
“Uh, thanks?” It came out as more of a question. He just nodded and stuck his hands in his pockets.
Excuse me for saying that he is very attractive. Today he is wearing light wash jeans and his green football sweatshirt. I love a guy that can feel completely comfortable in a sweatshirt, yet still look incredibly hot. His crazy bronze hair was a mess, but he made it work, and his eyes still get to me even on my worst days.
Then he had to ruin the moment.
“Listen, Bella, I’m really sor-“
Did I mention I hate it when people say sorry? You should never be sorry. If you said or did something you knew you would later regret, then you shouldn’t have done it at all. There’s no need for the absurd word.
“Don’t say that word. I hate that word. It’s over and done with, anyway,” I cut him off.
“’Kay, sorry,” he said quietly. I glared at him. He caught on and said, “Whoops!” while making a motion of locking his mouth shut and throwing away the key.
Mr. Riley came back in then with a smile on his face. He shook Edward’s hand and said, “Congratulations, Mr. Cullen, you are now a student of lunch time art class.”
“Thank you, sir,” Edward responded politely.
“You start tomorrow,” Mr. Riley said, like this was a job interview.
Edward nodded once more and left the room. I had made it to my stool and started painting again when Mr. Riley started to whistle.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” I said, painting in the circle on my canvas.
“Did what?” he asked, picking up his granola bar from his desk.
“Let Edward Cullen crash our lunch for the rest of the semester.”
Mr. Riley shrugged. “He needed the credit. You’re okay with this, right?”
“What does my opinion matter?” I asked. “You’re the teaching authority,” I teased.
He smirked. “Yes, and I have to teach somebody now don’t I? We both know you’ll do your own thing whether I like it or not.”
I crumpled up a piece of drawing paper and threw it at him, making him laugh.
“I know dude, it sucks, but it’s the only credit available and I need it to stay on the team.”
“Isn’t the freak in there during lunch?” Jake asked him.
“Yeah, it’s going to be hard trying to be nice to her,” Edward scoffed.
“Dude, just ignore her, sit in the back, and text me. Easy credit, man.” He looked over Edward’s shoulder and saw me. Edward turned and a look of horror crossed his face when he saw the tears spilling out of my eyes. I could tell he wanted to say something, but I didn’t want to hear a word out of his mouth.
“Just don’t,” I said, and walked away.
The next day I hear Mr. Riley talking to Edward. I do the wrong thing and stand outside the door so I can hear their conversation.
“Now Edward, there’s really only one thing I expect you to do, and that’s not to pick on Bella while you are in my classroom. I know what you do, Mr. Cullen, and it won’t fly in here. This is her safe haven, so don’t mess with her or I will kick you out and your football days will be over.”
“I understand, Mr. Riley, and I won’t bother her.”Whatever.
I count to five then walk into the room. Mr. Riley is sitting at his desk eating an apple and Edward is in the back of the room, trying to decide what to do. I roll my eyes and went to get my paints and brushes. Edward headed over to the throwing wheel and tried to figure out how to work it. He put his foot on the lever and jumped when the wheel started turning. Wow, a smart one we have here.
I put down my brushes and grab a ball of clay. I quickly wedged the clay and made it into a ball. I shoved Edward out of the way and threw the clay down on the wheel. I started centering it.
“You are going to drive me crazy,” I muttered.
“Because you don’t know anything about art, therefore you don’t know how to do anything,” I snapped.
“Thanks, Bella,” he said sarcastically. I didn’t respond, just threw a quick pot and left the wheel, leaving Edward to fend for himself. “Gee, thanks for demonstrating so nicely,” he muttered. Mr. Riley gave him a warning look, and I smirked to myself in victory.
Ten minutes through and Mr. Riley decides he needs to go to the school library. Sure you do, Mr. Riley. You just want me to be alone with him. I see what you’re doing. I’m watching you Mr. Riley.
The silence finally got to Edward. “Can we talk?” he asked me.
I snorted. “The last thing I owe you is talking.”
“I know that, but I can’t take back the things I’ve done to you. I wish I could, because I’m an idiot, and I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m sorry. I have changed, I swear! I just don’t want you holding grudges against me.”
He really did sound sorry, and as much as I hate that, I accepted it. But if he breaks that, there are no second chances.
I can’t believe I’m doing this, giving in so easily. What has he done to prove to me that I should forgive him? Ugh, I’m going to regret this.
“My name is Isabella Marie Swan, I love anything involving art, especially painting, and I couldn’t survive without music,” I said slowly and quietly.
I got nothing in return. I turned around and saw Edward just staring at me in shock, like he thought I wouldn’t actually do that.
He snapped out of it and recovered nicely, though.
“My name is Edward Anthony Cullen, I love playing football, listening and composing music, and I want to be a pediatrician.” He paused, and then said, “And I know absolutely nothing about art.”
I laughed, I actually laughed. I got a dazzling crooked grin in return, and that’s when I knew I was already gone.
I was falling for Edward.
“Why a pediatrician?” I asked him. I started to paint the face I drew.
“I love kids, they’re great,” he responded.
“Seriously? You love kids? Are you any good with them?” I asked skeptically.
“I guess I deserved that. But yes, kids love me.” I could hear the smirk in his voice.
“Aren’t we a smug one,” I muttered.
“Hey!” he chuckled.
We sat in silence before I asked another question. “What music do you listen to?”
“Classical, mostly. A little rock here and there,” he answered.
I’m starting to wonder if this is the same Edward Cullen that tortures me.
“Sorry!” I shook my head trying to clear it. “Same here, actually.”
“What’s your favorite?” he asked me.
“Claire de Lune,” I said automatically. It’s the one song my mother would always play, and it reminded me of her.
“Why is that?” He wasn’t judging, just curious. He didn’t know the significance behind a simple song, and there is no way I’m explaining that to him.
“Um, it’s a long story that I really don’t want to share,” I say quietly.
My three month old self was crying in her bassinet, hungry and wet. My mommy came over and picked me up.
“Shh, shh, you’re okay, mommy’s here.” She was bouncing me slightly, cooing at me. I just cried louder, wanting her to feed me. “Okay, okay, let’s feed you, baby.”
She took me into my nursery and sat with me in the rocking chair. She fed me, but I continued to cry. Nothing she did could calm me. Finally, she took me into my daddy’s den and played a piece of music that I recognized. It was just a bunch of music, no singing, but it calmed me right down. I knew I heard this before. I think my mommy played it for me when I was still in her tummy.
My mommy smiled at me when I looked up at her with my big brown eyes. “I knew this would calm you. It always made you stop kicking momma when you were in my belly,” she whispered to me. I giggled and took her thumb in my tiny hand, completely content.
“That’s cool,” Edward said, breaking me away from my memory. “How about your favorite food?”
I laughed. “Favorite food?”
“Food says a lot about a person,” he told me matter-of-factly.
“Okay. What does Mushroom Ravioli say about me?” I asked.
“Hmm...” He paused, and I pictured him putting his pointer finger to his chin, like he was deep in thought. “It says that you are an adventurous person who isn’t afraid of change. You can handle a lot, you’re tough. Are you tough, Bella?” he asked playfully.
“Oh, I’m tough,” I teased, hiding my expressions that showed how hard his words hit home. “My turn. Any siblings?”
“One. My sister Alice is in her third year at design school in New York. She’s a shopping fanatic, so she wants to become a fashion designer that sells her clothes for what normal women can afford.”
“She sounds fun,” I said politely.
“Oh, she is. She’s a ball of energy,” he chuckled. It was such a beautiful laugh. “And you?”
“No siblings. I’m an only child, sadly.”
We were silent for a moment before he asked me tentatively, “What happened to your mom, Bella?”
I froze, my paint brush still in my hand, mid-stroke. “I…uh…” How do I answer this? How did he even know something happened to my mother?
The bell rang, saving me from Edward’s question. I never thought I would be grateful to hear that bell. I quickly cleaned my brushes and left the art room, not bothering to even look or talk to Edward.
I’m sitting in the living room listening to music while doing my Pre Calculus homework. I hate math, I’ve never been any good at it. Luckily, the door bell rang to save me from the stupid problems. Funny how bells have become my savior today.
I look through the peephole and am surprised to see Edward at the door. What in the world is he doing here?
I open the door. “Hey. What are you doing here?” I look behind him and am glad to see that he’s alone.
“Um, can I talk to you?” he asked. He looked a little nervous.
“Sure, come on in.” This is not weird at all. I readjust my glasses and lead Edward to the living room where I was previously doing math. “Do you want anything? To drink, I mean.” I blush a little.
“No, I’m good,” he tells me.
I sit opposite of him on the couch, waiting for him to tell me why he came to my house. There is an awkward silence falling around us.
“So?” I say.
“Bella, I need you,” he blurted out.
“I mean, I want to get to know you better,” he rushed. “Talking to you today made me realize that I officially suck as a person.”
He was going to go on, but I didn’t let him.
“Edward, you don’t suck. You never actually did anything to me,” I told him gently.
“Exactly! I never did anything. Jake always torments you while I watch on the sidelines. I never stopped him. I could have stopped him.” Edward didn’t look too hot. Why is he getting so worked up about this? I have given him a second chance, he shouldn’t be going crazy.
“Edward, stop! It’s fine, that was the past,” I said, trying to get him to stop mumbling absurd thoughts.
“I should have stuck up for you,” he mumbled, shaking his head.
“So beautiful,” he muttered, meeting my eyes for the first time.
Well that stopped my heart for a moment.
And then his lips were on mine. Once the shock melted away, I wrapped my arms around his neck. His one arm went around my waist while his other hand went to my hair, holding me close. My lips molded with his perfectly. We kissed as if it was our last day on earth.
He traced my bottom lip with his tongue. I opened my lips and let him in. Our tongues fought for dominance. This was incredible. Edward Cullen is kissing me after he called me beautiful.
I’m losing breath. We’ve been going at it for at least ten seconds, and that’s about all the time I can hold my breath. Hey, I wasn’t blessed with swimmers lungs, you know!
He pulls away and looks into my eyes. All I can do is stare. His emerald eyes bore into mine, hypnotizing me. He looks away for a moment, and that’s when the horror of what just happened settled in.
I just had my first kiss with Edward Cullen. I know I wasn’t any good, and now he’s regretting it. He’s going to tell the whole school I came onto him, and that he tried to push me away but couldn’t. He’s going to tell everybody I’m just a freak who’s disgusting.
I’m not sure what my face looks like right now, but when Edward turns back to me, his eyes go wide and his arms drop from my body.
“I have to go,” he mutters, and practically runs out the door, slamming it behind him.
What in the hell just happened?