AN: This is my very first Fanfic! *hugs self* Summary: Mike and some friends take "stalker" to a whole new level . . . It's rated T for 1 or 2 suggestive sentences . . . you know Mike and his silly fantasies lol :P READ REVIEW REPEAT! READ REVIEW REPEAT! and ENJOY!
The Isabella Swan Fan Club
"Order! Order!" Mike Newton shouted, unceasingly pounding the old wooden podium. Half a dozen of his schoolmates sat in plastic folding chairs in front of him, texting, reading comic books, and playing cards. Everyone looked up.
He cleared his throat, smoothed his tidy blond spikes, and cleared his throat. "Welcome to the 3rd weekly Isabella Swan Fan Club meeting. Roll call." He coughed professionally and began calling names. "Eric?"
"Here," the raven-haired boy called, his fingers moving rapidly on his cell phone keypad.
"Here," Tyler replied, the fluorescent ceiling light glowing weirdly on his coffee-colored skin.
"Here," a nerdy-looking sophomore with suspenders and freckles replied. No need to worry about that, Mike smirked to himself as he scanned the room for a minute, sizing up the competition.
"Present," the brunet jock smirked.
Mike rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Wait, who are you?" he barked at two loners in the back of the room, evidently hoping not to get noticed.
"Uh . . . I'm, um-" the one wearing a baseball cap stuttered. He was obviously cowed by his ferocity, Mike thought, satisfied.
"My name is-" the other boy in a green jersey started.
"Out! This is an elite association!" Mike bellowed, pointing to the door of his garage. Baseball Cap and Jersey slunk out. He stood up straighter and eyed the remaining four boys. "So, any news?"
"I heard that Bella likes reading . . ."
"She listens to Linkin Park."
"I think her mom remarried a baseball player or something."
Mike turned these facts over in his head, trying to decide how to best use them to his advantage. Should he lend her some of his CDs? Offer to help her study? The other boys went on and on with stalker-esque news and tidbits of Bella-related info. Mike didn't listen to them as they babbled on. Instead, he imagined Bella, pale skin glowing in the rare sun as she walked up to him, a smile on her face . . .
"Hello, Mike," she would purr and wink. "Wanna go out on Friday? The weather forecasts warm weather, so we wouldn't have to wear as many clothes . . ."
And instead of him just staring or babbling like an idiot, as would probably happen in real life, he smirked, flashing perfect teeth and watching her drool all over his spiky blond hair, which was so much cooler than stupid Edward Cullen's ugly penny brown bedhead . . .
Edward Cullen. Ugh. From the day the freaky pale family had moved down from Alaska, he had hated the bronze-haired junior the way he hated string beans and traffic jams. Hated that all of them, especially the big guy Emmett, looked strong enough to take down anyone in a fight, even Coach Clapp. Hated that all the girls flocked to him like his younger sister to the Barbie aisle in Port Angeles's Toys R Us.
And what he hated the most was how Bella seemed attracted to Cullen-how her cute, innocent brown eyes followed him around the cafeteria, how she'd blushed when he had stared at her. She hadn't blushed when he had smiled, just looked embarrassed and a little annoyed. The glares she often aimed at Edward Cullen, and the arguments they always seemed to be getting into, though, gave him hope.
Maybe his vision would come true. Maybe Bella would ask him out, or accept wholeheartedly when he did, and they'd end up voted Best Couple in Forks High's yearbook.
Or if not, I always have Jessica to fall back on, he thought grudgingly, grimacing at the idea of dating the curly-haired gossip queen.