Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. It belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

I had already decided not to start anymore stories but apparently the OCD part of my brain wouldn't listen! Since this couldn't be stopped I might as well share it with you. :)

Thank you to my beta Melanie for helping me with this and having zero problems with my strange mind and the places it takes my writing.

Enjoy!

EPOV

God, look at her. I have never seen anything like her! How can someone so small be so irritating and off-putting?

I glanced briefly at the girl who had become a very constant annoyance in my otherwise pleasant Tuesday and Friday schedule. Today her hair looked like it had been done with an electric mixer and was piled on top of her head with half a million pins. I had never seen her wear her hair down in the two months that she had been my student, and it bothered me for some reason. She was pretty enough but apparently insisted on hiding herself behind ridiculous outfits and hairstyles. Not to mention her makeup. I groaned internally when I remembered the hideous black stuff she usually wore on her eyes. She hadn't looked up from her book today so I didn't actually know if she looked like a deranged version of a mime as usual. As if she had heard my thoughts she raised her head and her brown eyes darted to me for a second. She gave me a lopsided grin and winked before turning her attention back to the book she was reading.

Why must she always do that? It is completely inappropriate. And I hate her makeup!

The girl seemed to have no appreciation for the fact that I was her professor or the decorum with which she was expected to act around me. Either that or she just didn't care. She had called me Edward to my face several times even though I had corrected her each time it happened, today was hardly the first time she had winked at me and she interrupted me during class if she was of a different opinion.

And when was she not of a different opinion?

I had never met a more infuriatingly opinionated and stubborn girl and I was really looking forward to the end of the semester where she would no longer be in my life.

I looked at her outfit, if you could even call it that, and shuddered slightly. Why some young women insisted on dressing like street walkers was beyond my comprehension. She was wearing these old combat boots, black pantyhose what were riddled with large holes, a too short grey denim skirt and a long-sleeved shirt with some band logo I had never heard of on the front. As if that wasn't bad enough she had chopped up the neckline, making it fall down her right shoulder to reveal her pale skin and no bra strap. That was another thing that bothered me to no end: Her letting the world know that she was not wearing a bra. I assumed that she wore them sometimes, but whenever she didn't it was painfully obvious. Unfortunately, it often caused a ruckus when the jocks in the back of the class discovered this. She would walk into the room listening to her IPod through ridiculously large earphones and everything would be bouncing under her tight clothing. That bothered me even more than the constant interruptions and inappropriate behavior for some reason. Why couldn't she just dress nicely? She would be such a pretty young lady if she wore a decent length skirt and perhaps a silk blouse. But apparently she was adamant in her desire to look like a trashy urchin and thus effectively spoiling my good mood.

I cleared my throat to let the students know that I was beginning the class and for once they settled down quickly. I knew the reason for this unusual occurrence without having to ask. Today we were discussing the novel "Lolita" by Vladimir Nabokov and I expected some very strong opinions from my students. The novel was about a grown man who falls in love with a twelve year old girl and proceeds to have a sexual relationship with her. As the class started I was surprised to see that the annoying girl, Ms Swan was not participating for once. She was writing her notes quietly with a small smile on her face and was for once acting appropriately. A guy in the back suggested that the main character Humbert was a degenerate and was not in control of his own actions and therefore he should be allowed a little clemency.

"But you can't actually defend his actions," a red-haired girl whose name I had forgotten argued. "He's a complete pervert and he corrupts the girl!"

"Actually, I think it's the other way around," Ms. Swan said without looking up from her notes.

"What?" the other girl said. "Are you serious?"
"As a heart attack," Ms. Swan said. "I'm fairly certain that Lolita is the one who corrupts Humbert. She seduces him and he loves it. What guy wouldn't?"

"But she's just a kid!" the redhead insisted.

"That she is, but she's well aware of what she's doing when she seduces him. She has had sex before him and afterwards he is basically eating out of the palm of her hand. I am not saying that what he did wasn't wrong, but you have to remember that he sees her as a young woman and he himself only possesses the emotional maturity of a twelve year old."

The girl with the red hair had no retort and looked down.

"So why do you think that the author chose to write about such a controversial topic?" I asked the class.

A few people started to raise their hands but gave up the second Ms. Swan started speaking without being called on. I gritted my teeth. The girl was undoubtedly intelligent but why couldn't she just play by the rules like everyone else did?

God, she is so infuriating!

"Ms Swan!" I said harshly.

She stopped talking and looked at me. Sadly, she didn't look intimidated at all and just gave me a curious look.

"Yes, Edward?" she asked sweetly.

"Professor Cullen," I said exasperatedly.

Thank heavens that the semester is over soon!

She just smiled at me.

"You will wait your turn to speak or you can leave my classroom," I finally said and silently dared her to continue her rant.

She motioned for me to continue and leaned back in her seat where she watched me with an amused expression on her face. I asked the other students for their opinions and got some lame responses about taboos and the redheaded girl even started to argue that the author was the real pervert for even writing something like that. I sighed and reluctantly called on the bothersome Ms. Swan who grinned and leaned forward on her elbows.

"I think that Nabokov is using the main characters as symbols."

"How so?" I asked, although I had a pretty good idea where she was going with this.

"Humbert is older, sophisticated but emotionally stunted. He likes serious literature and classical music. He represents Europe. Lolita is young, fun-loving and quite naïve. She likes coca cola, rock music and glossy magazines. She is obviously supposed to be the author's impression of the U.S. which isn't particularly flattering. " She hesitated and smiled to herself. "But, I could be wrong. Maybe Nabokov's motives were much simpler. Maybe it just came to him in a dream one night."

She looked up at me with her lopsided grin and added:

"After all, don't all older men dream of sleeping with a younger woman?"

And then she winked again. I may have been somewhat inexperienced when it came to the opposite sex, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that the aggravating Ms. Swan was flirting to tease me. The tip of her tongue peeked out between her lips before she bit down on the bottom one.

"Class dismissed," I said between gritted teeth and watched as they started filing out.

I sat down at my desk and started to gather my books.

"See you Friday, Edward," I heard Ms. Swan say as she passed by on her way out.

I looked up and watched as she sauntered away in her ridiculous outfit. My eye briefly caught something peaking out of the top of her shirt just below her neck, but I couldn't quite make out what it was. I focused and could now see that it was a tattoo of some sort. My gaze suddenly dropped to her backside and her slender legs which were covered up by those hideous panty hose. She glanced over her shoulder and gave me a smile before she was out of the door.

Of course she would have a tattoo. She obviously doesn't care about her appearance or having the rest of the world take her seriously. And I really wish she would wear some nicer clothes. She could be quite pretty if she gave it a little effort.

I threw my things in my bag and hurried out to my car. As usual I was feeling frustrated after class and decided to hit the gym before going home. When I got to my car I saw that I had a missed call from my younger brother Emmett. I dialed his number and he picked up after several rings.

"Edward, what's up?"

"I don't know. You called me."

"Oh right. Are you coming out with us tonight?" he asked.

"It's Tuesday," I answered.

"So?"

"So don't you have work tomorrow?"

"Yeah, what's your point?"

I sighed.

"Nevermind. No, I can't come out."

"Why not, man? You don't have class in the morning."

"I have papers to grade and an article to finish. Besides, I was looking forward to a quiet evening at home."

"ALL your evenings are quiet ones at home," my brother said, and I could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

"Well, that's the way I like it," I said defensively.

"I swear to God, I have no idea how the two of us are even related. You are the oldest thirty-two year old in the world."

"Come on," I scoffed.

"I'm serious, Edward. You're single and have easy access to young hotties, but when's the last time you got laid?"

A few years maybe? Who can even remember at this point?

"I don't have 'easy access' as you call it. Dating a student is forbidden and you know it."

"I'm not talking about dating," Emmett countered. "I'm just talking about getting someone else's hand on your dick other than your own. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Shut up, Em!

"I have to go," I said quickly. "I'm headed for the gym."

"Great, I'll see you there in ten minutes," Emmett replied and ended the call before I could protest.

Great, that's just great! Just what I needed after the day I've had!

I drove to the gym and saw my brother waiting outside for me while he was talking on his phone. I understood what Emmett had meant about us being related. We were nothing alike. Emmett was insanely outgoing and popular. He owned a sports bar with a buddy of his and apparently it was very successful. I didn't care about sports in the slightest and I had only been there for the grand opening a few years ago when our parents had pretty much forced me to go. I had spent the entire night feeling awkward and overdressed in my suit, and was thrilled to slip out early when a fight had broken out.

"Hey bro," Emmett called as I approached him.

I waved my hand and we walked inside.

"What's with you?" he asked, when I slammed my gym bag down on the floor. "That vein in your forehead looks like it's about ready to pop."

"I don't know. I think I might be coming down with something," I said.

"Yeah, and it's called blue balls, bro. Is it that annoying girl who has been playing you again?"

"What?" I asked only half-listening to him as I started to get changed.

"You know, the one who according to you dresses like crap and always talks back. The one you can't seem to shut up about whenever I see you."

"Ms. Swan?" I asked.

"Mmm…Ms. Swan, I like that. What's her first name?"
"I don't know," I said, irritated. "Why are we even talking about one of my students?"
"Because the vein is unusually large today and that only ever happens when you've had her in your class," he said matter-of-factly.

I reached my hand up and touched my forehead. Ok, so maybe there was a little vein, but Emmett exaggerated as usual…I hoped.

"Well, what did she do today?" he asked with a grin.

"Nothing!" I said. "Will you just leave it alone?"
"Wow, it must have been bad," he said. "Or good, depending on how you look at it."

I shot him a look to get him to shut up. I didn't want to think about that ridiculous girl a second longer.

"Oh, I know," he said and grinned at me. "Did she do that whole crossing and uncrossing of her legs? Give you a peak of the good stuff?"

"No!" I half-yelled. "What is wrong with you, Emmett? She's at least ten years younger than me."

"So?" he asked. "All men dream of being with a younger woman."

That was what Ms. Swan said, as well!

"Really?" I heard myself asking.

"Absolutely. You can't tell me that you wouldn't love to fuck the hell out of that naughty student of yours and show her who's boss?"

I stopped dead in my tracks. The thought had never entered my mind before, but now that it was there it sounded oddly…intriguing? I shook my head.

"No," I finally said. "Even if it wasn't against the rules, she is not my type at all."

"What does she look like?" he asked curiously as we started to head for the treadmills.

"I don't know. She is small with dark hair and brown eyes. She's probably around twenty-one years old. She's the worst dresser I've ever seen and her make up and hair is just…Well, it looks like she's celebrating Halloween all year round."

Emmett nodded and I could see that he was creating a visual in his head.

"Oh, and she has a tattoo below the nape of her neck." I added.

"Hmm, tattoos are hot," he said dreamily. "How are her tits?"

I groaned. Unfortunately I knew exactly how her tits were, as Emmett had so charmingly put it.

"That good huh?" he grinned.

"I don't know, Em," I said, feeling tired of this conversation. "I wouldn't know which criteria to judge them from."

"They can't be too small, but not too big either. A handful is perfect, and I do have pretty big hands," he laughed and held them up in front of him and mimicked fondling a pair of breasts.

I rolled my eyes and started running. I didn't want to think about Ms. Swan's breasts, and I hoped that he would drop the subject.

"Oh," he said, when he had finished his imaginary groping. "They have to be nice and perky. But that's pretty much a given with a twenty-one year old, you lucky dog."

I ran faster. They were perky, I couldn't deny that.

"So are you going to make a move on her?" Emmett continued despite my running at top speed or the fact that I hadn't answered his asinine breast query.

"Of course not," I panted.

"Why not? The way you describe what she does in class, it sounds like she's into you," he said.

She is not. She is…I don't know what she is. And I don't want to find out.

I kept running until it felt like my heart was about to beat out of my chest and sweat was pouring off me. I stopped the treadmill and downed my water while Emmett was still watching me with a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" I yelled and jumped off.

"Easy bro, don't give yourself a coronary," he said and stopped his slow pace. "I'm just saying that if this girl can get you this worked up there might be something there."

"There's nothing there!" I panted. "She is stupid and annoying, and frankly I can't wait for the semester to be over so I don't have to look at her twice a week. And yes, her breasts are very perky and probably just the right size, but that doesn't change the fact that she looks like an extra from a Tim Burton movie and seems hell bent on annoying the crap out of me!"

I stormed off and heard him laugh as he followed me to the area where the weight benches were. I started working on my chest, hoping that Emmett would keep his mouth shut while he spotted me. Of course I was all out of luck in that department.

"So," he said casually. "When your class is over it wouldn't be illegal for you to date her, would it?"

I groaned under the exertion.

"Since I have no interest in dating her it's a moot point," I said. "Besides, I'm much too old for her and like I've already said, she is not my type."

"You like brunettes," he countered.

"Yes, but I don't like ghoul makeup, torn pantyhose and especially not tattoos. Why are we still talking about this?"

"Because you've mentioned her every time I've seen you in the past two months," he said. "You don't even realize that you've done that, do you?"

I haven't talked about her that much have I ?

"It couldn't have been that much," I said reluctantly as we switched and Emmett added more weight for his set.

"Are you kidding me? I know what she's been wearing and how she has done her hair for every single one of your classes. Not to mention all her winking and smiling at you," he said and lay down on the bench.

"You're exaggerating," I said dismissively. "What was she wearing on Friday?"

"Uh, a black and white checkered skirt and a t shirt with the Ramones logo," he said without hesitation.

That's absolutely right! God, this is so messed up.

I didn't say anything. Honestly, what could I say?

"I'm right, aren't I?" he said with a grin.

"Just shut up or I'm going to drop this on you," I said and handed him the bar.

He did his set and I stood there feeling perplexed. I hadn't realized that I had been complaining so much about the irritating Ms. Swan, and I hoped that I had only done this to my brother and not also to the few friends I had.

After we had finished I didn't feel like doing anymore and we hit the showers.

"All kidding aside, Edward. Why haven't you dated anyone in forever?" my brother asked me as were dressing.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I just haven't met anyone who has held my interest."

"Except for the girl you haven't been able to shut up about for the past two months," he interjected.

"Plus, I'm not very good at talking to women," I added and ignored his comment.

"Yeah, you always were a bit on the geeky side," Emmett said.

I nodded, knowing that he was right. You didn't get to be a professor by the age of thirty by slacking off in school. I had always liked studying and there hadn't been a lot of time left over for dating. I had mostly spent time with my friends and I always figured that the right woman would just come along some day. Now I was thirty-two and so far that hadn't happened.

"Do you want me to set you up?" my brother asked me. "I know a lot of women who would love to go on a date with you."
"Really?" I asked doubtfully and raised an eyebrow.

"Ok, so maybe not a lot. But I'm pretty sure I could wrestle one up for you. Someone nice and boring just like you," he said, as if that was a compliment.

"Do you really think I'm boring?" I asked him.

"Yes," he answered immediately.

"Wow, thanks for not sugarcoating it, Em," I said sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, Edward but just look at your life, man. You spend every night at home with your nose in a book, you haven't gone on a date since JT brought sexy back and you dress like a grandpa."

Who's JT? Sexy back? A GRANDPA? What?

I looked at my clothes and compared them to Emmett's. I was wearing khaki pants with a belt, a blue button down shirt, a brown corduroy blazer and black leather shoes with laces and of course my glasses. My brother was wearing some odd-looking sneakers, dark denim jeans, a simple white t-shirt and a leather jacket. Even I could acknowledge that there were differences but I didn't think that my clothes were that bad. I looked up at him and he patted my shoulder sympathetically.

"The next time mom offers to take you clothes shopping, just say no."

"Ok," I said simply to get him off my back.

"Look, why don't you come with me to the bar and have a beer. We can grab some dinner on the way," he suggested.

I hesitated.

"There's a Seahawks game on and it's sure to bring some women to the bar. That's football, by the way."
"I know," I said and rolled my eyes. "Ok, I'll come along. But just for one beer, Em."

"Great, do you want to stop by your place for a change of clothes?" he asked pointedly.

"No," I said wearily.

"Ok, just…err, lose the jacket at least and don't tuck your shirt in," he said.

I sighed and did what he told me.

"Anything else?" I asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, don't do that weird parting on the side. It makes you look like you have a comb over which obviously isn't necessary," he said and ruffled my unruly hair.

I was already regretting the decision when we pulled up at Emmett's bar later that night and I saw how many cars were parked outside. The place was packed and I could feel myself getting nervous. We stepped inside and Emmett was greeted enthusiastically from all corners of the place. Apparently everyone knew who he was and I couldn't have felt more anonymous or out of place if I tried.

"Come on, bro. I have my own table," Emmett said and ushered me over to what seemed like the best seats in the house with a great view overlooking the whole bar and the large TV on the wall.

"I'll get you a beer," he said. "Any preference?"

I shook my head. I didn't drink very often and I couldn't tell one beer from the other to save my life. I looked around the place and was surprised to see that there were in fact a lot of women here as my brother had promised. I knew that Emmett saw a lot of different girls but none exclusively, and apparently he liked it that way. I saw him embrace several on his way back to where I was sitting, and I had to admit that I felt a little jealous of him. My brother was well-liked by everyone and had a way with the opposite sex that I had never possessed.

"Here you go," he said and handed me a bottle. "So, see anything you like?"

He motioned around the crowded bar. I shrugged my shoulders and peeked around at all the different women. The game hadn't started yet and the music was loud. Suddenly a rock song came on and I heard loud cheering in the back of the place. Both Emmett and I turned in our seats to see what was going on, and I almost fell off my chair at the sight that met my eyes. Ms. Swan was dancing on a table with two other girls, and they were surrounded by a huge group of men who all looked up at them and made catcalls.

Tonight she was wearing a dress I hadn't seen before; a red strapless contraption that I had no idea how she was holding up and knee-high leather boots. Her hair was in a high ponytail and she wore red lipstick and the same black smudgy stuff around her eyes as she had in class.

"Holy shit, that blonde is hot!" Emmett exclaimed next to me and let out a low whistle.

He was referring to Ms. Swan's friend, a tall curvy girl who did indeed have long blonde hair. The third girl was smaller than the two others with spiky black hair. The three completely captured the attention of every man in the place with their dance routine on the table. I had the sudden urge to get out of here before she saw me. I didn't want to see her although I had to admit that she looked a lot better tonight than she usually did in class.

Pretty dress for a change.

I gaped at her when they started doing shots off of each other and this made the crowd of men go absolutely wild.

"Err, are they allowed to do that?" I asked Emmet.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked with his eyes fixed on the blonde one. "Those men are going to come back here every night for a month hoping for a repeat performance. I should put those girls on my payroll. I haven't seen them in here before. I wonder who they are?"

"That's Ms. Swan," I heard myself say, and instantly regretted it.

"The one in the red dress?" he asked incredulously. "Are you serious?"

I nodded.

"The annoying one who isn't your type? You are so full of shit, bro! You need to tap that, and then introduce me to her friend."

I didn't feel the need to 'tap' anything and got up to leave.

"Where are you going? The game hasn't even started yet," he said and pulled me back in my seat. "One beer, Edward, you promised."

"Fine," I said, feeling slightly irritated and ducked my head. "I'll finish the one I have and then I'm going home. I have things to attend to."

"You can jack off later," he laughed. "Your dear Ms. Swan just provided you with a great image," he added and motioned in her direction.

Now she was busy licking salt of the neck of the blonde before she downed a shot and sucked on a lemon wedge that the other girl had between her lips. I felt a stirring in my nether regions and looked away, feeling disgusted with myself.

She is ten years younger than you and more importantly your student. Plus, she annoys you like crazy, remember?

I turned my attention to the screen and the noise from the back died down when the game came on. After finishing my beer I told Emmett that I was leaving but made plans with him to have lunch the following day. I looked around for Ms. Swan but thankfully she and her friends seemed to have left when the game started. I walked outside and took a deep breath.

"Cocksucking son of a bitch!"

What the?

I looked in the direction of the voice and who else could it have been but Ms. Swan who was rifling through her purse and cursing loudly. She pulled out a cigarette, lit up and inhaled deeply.

"Fucking hell," she groaned with her eyes closed.

She has a foul mouth AND she's a smoker. Wonderful. The 'things I don't like about Ms. Swan'- list keeps getting longer and longer. Before the semester is through it'll look like Kerouac's On the Road scroll.

For a second I thought I might be able to slip past her undetected, but then she opened her eyes again and broke into a smile when she saw me.

"Edward," she said with her lopsided grin. "What are you doing here?"

"It's Professor Cullen," I said automatically.

"We're not in school now," she countered and took a drag of her cigarette.

I couldn't stop myself from staring at her insanely red lips as they wrapped themselves around it. I decided not to say anything else about the name thing.

"It's my brother's bar. Well, half of it is, anyway," I said.

"I never pegged you for the sports type," she said and looked me up and down slowly while taking another drag.

"I'm not and I'm leaving. Good night, Ms. Swan," I said curtly and started walking to my car.

"Wait," she said, and I found myself stopping. "I don't have enough money for a cab and my friends already left in the other direction. Can I have a ride?"

I didn't really want her in my car with her being annoying, and the dress being very short and tight.

"Hey, never mind," she said before I could answer. "I'll just see you on Friday."

I turned and she was already walking away at a brisk pace.

Is she going to walk home? Alone? And in that dress?

"Ms. Swan," I called after her.

She turned and looked curiously at me.

"Come on," I said and motioned to my car with my hand.

She smiled brightly and walked towards me. I couldn't help but notice the way her hips moved and how tiny her waist really was. Her ponytail swayed from side to side with each step she took, and I decided that I preferred that hairstyle to the others she had shown up to class with. She got in the car and I immediately noticed that she was still smoking.

"Would you mind not doing that in my car?" I asked and pointed to her cigarette.

She threw it out the door and put on her seatbelt.

"Where do you live?" I asked as we pulled out of the parking lot.

She told me and I knew the neighborhood fairly well since it housed a lot of students.

"So Edward," she said and turned to me. "Do you do this sort of thing a lot?"

"What sort of thing?" I asked flatly, keeping my eyes on the road.

"Rescuing damsels in distress," she said jokingly. "No, hanging out in bars on a school night?"

"Technically it's not a school night for me, and no, I don't do that a lot. It wasn't really my scene back there."

"What is your scene then?" she asked.

I shrugged. Most nights I spent at home with a cup of tea and a book. Sometimes I would go see a movie if anything good was playing or go to my parents' for dinner. That was pretty much the extent of my social life, but I didn't tell this to Ms. Swan and kept driving. I was anxious to get her home as soon as possible and be rid of her. Despite her cigarette earlier she smelled intoxicating and the way she was rubbing her arms to stay warm was distracting.

"Why didn't you bring a jacket?" I asked, once again feeling annoyed with her.

"I forgot," she said and shrugged. "That was a fun class today, huh?"
Fun isn't exactly how I'd put it! Frustrating? Yes. Irritating? Yes. Fun? No.

I gave her a grunt of acknowledgement but didn't say anything else.

"Well, I sure had fun," she said and let out a small laugh. "I can't believe that people would actually have something against the writer."

"It's not the first time that has happened," I said. "Ellis received a number of death threats after writing "American Psycho"".

"Yeah, I know. I was thinking about doing my thesis on New York writers," she said conversationally.

I just nodded and sighed with relief when I saw that we drove onto her street.

"Well, goodnight," I said and stared straight ahead.

Get out of the car, get out of the car, get out of the car.

"Listen Edward, it's still pretty early. Would you like to come up for some coffee or a drink?" she asked casually.

Nononononono!

"Yes."

What the hell am I doing?

What is he doing? Any ideas? ;)

I hope you enjoyed this and just to reassure you I promise that the next Blizzard chapter will be up before the week is over.

Thank you for reading.