Chapter One

Summary: Edward Cullen is just one of many out casts in his over populated school, but he has friend's that help him feel as close to normal as he can get. A realist and slightly cynical, Edward knows what he's doing with his life. Until Jacob black comes along.

Pairings: Jacob/Edward. Victoria/Bella. Other's to come when I can be bothered thinking about it.

Okay, so in a way, writing this story is both good and bad. Bad, because I really should be posting material for my other story (which Im working hard on) and good because, if I didn't post it, my mind would have been blocked and the other story woudn't get finished.

Anyway, Ive had this written for a while but as an original story but I thought it would work well for a Twilight version. It was going to be a slash anyway so I thought, what the heck.

The characters might experiance a little OOC but I think its cool.

Disclaimer: I don't own any Twilight characters.

Songs: Standing in the way of Control by Gossip.
Common People by William Shatner. (Im sure its a re-make but I like his version.)

Im afraid that this is more than likely to turn into another cliché, crappy teenager story but, unfortunately, it can't be helped. These are the events that happened and the age that Im currently at can't be changed. Of course, you could blame my parents for not having me earlier but then this story would never have been written in the first place. Maybe if you don't like teenage based plots with melodramatic happenings you should exit this story and go find something else that will peak your interests.

Of course, there is going to be the same old generic stuff involved; love, lust, drama, cliques, prejudice and everything else used to entice a reader into reading an otherwise lame story. These techniques and scenarios combined help the reader to continue with the story; it also helps to keep it from being plain and boring.

First, I should let you know, that I am indeed a teenager. The ripe age of 17 to be precise. Im still driven purely by raging hormones, I get hard by anything remotely attractive and Im proud to say that I haven't yet dropped out of high school; one more year cant be too hard.

Well, I probably should get into the story. I just wanted to warn you first about the future disappointment your about to encounter by reading this. Although, this probably wouldn't be considered a good marketing technique but when you get to the end of this and find that you don't like what you've just read, you only have yourself to blame.

This whole thing started on a Wednesday, a rather crappy one at that. The wind was windy and the rain was wet. Well, I guess that is a statement of stupidity and the scenario should be explained in greater detail but that's how it was; wet and windy.

The sky was a dark grey and I glared at it, hoping that it was scary enough to make the clouds piss off somewhere else in the country. Unfortunately, it didn't work and I swear that the sky knew my intentions and futile attempt because the rain got heavier, pelting harshly against by trench coat.

Like a normal, overly dramatic teenager, I cursed my parents for something that wasn't their fault and blamed them for my lack of transportation. Buses were an option but getting off the vehicle scraping banana out of my hair wasn't very appealing, which left me walking through the rain to school.

Making it to the aforementioned building of education, I sighed again. I would have glared but I thought it silly. It didn't work with the clouds so obviously it wouldn't work for another hopeless attempt.

Let me make this clear so that I don't come across cliché like so many of my peers that lurk down the corridors of my over populated school; I don't hate learning. In fact I find it highly enlightening and obviously useful. No, the work itself is not the problem I suffer throughout the day, it is the people.

Despite the evolution of man, people tend to think that popularity is the most important thing to happen during the high school period which ends up in the classic case of 'clique'.

Within this hierarchy, I am definitely not at the top. I wouldn't consider myself at the bottom, maybe just below the middle. Not popular enough to score with a cheerleader but not geeky enough to hang out with the highly unsociable nerds that tend to whither their days away in the computer laboratory playing computer games.

Admittedly, I wouldn't know what to call myself if we're basing this on stereotyping. Obviously nowhere near the 'jocks', if you like, but I never really liked that word so we shall call them Athletes. The closest I came to playing sport was when I was seven and my Dad put me on a little league team. My coach lost his left nut due to a run away baseball bat and that ended my sporting career, much to my Dads disappointment.

I'd level myself with the geeks but I don't send off my own personal brand of nerd sweat. Enjoying an innocent killing spree computer game shouldn't mean that you generate your own scent.

If we are working by this basis, Id consider myself an archetype. Simply because my exterior clashes with my personality. Despite the dark clothing and the dark look I seem to exude, I am not a devil worshipper and I don't brood throughout my day. Exclude the morning; that was due to crappy weather.

Due to my status in the dysfunctional dynamics of high school, I get what's called 'bullied' by the royals of the previously explained hierarchy. Just the normal immature acts presented by brain damaged Athletes; shoving, cursing, the old cough and insult gag. Not that it has much effect; that would require a low self-esteem and sad personal image, both of which Im not in possession of.

Even though this has no mental effect on me, it would be nice to be able to sit through an English class without some sort of edible (and most of the time sticky) substance getting on my clothes and in my hair.

Feeling anxious before I even walk through the entrance of my large high school shouldn't be necessary but it's not unexpected. It happens every day and now it's just an easy thing to ignore. I know everything that's going to happen. Before I even reach my locker situated on the second floor, Ive been pushed, called some sort of demeaning term and told that someone indulged in a sexual act with my mother.

Some days, when I get to my locker, it's slammed into my head causing a ringing sound to pound throughout my head. Fortunately, today is not one of those days. Instead it's just a shove of books causing them to spread unevenly and annoyingly across the cheap, linoleum floor.

As I go to pick up my last book, a pale hand with finely decorated nails picks it up for me, handing it over to me with a smile.

"You'd think that after nearly four years they'd be over it by now," Victoria says, sending daggers made of mind tricks and air towards the perpetrators of my misfortune.

Grunting my agreement, I throw my books into my locker then lean against it, folding my arms across my chest. Victoria does the same, her hand on her hip in that unconsciously seductive way she always appears.

"Evolution wasn't bestowed upon everyone. These are examples of the less fortunate," I explain to her, not sneaking peaks out her cleavage.

Victoria was one of those kinds of girls who caused painful and problematic situations in the morning after a rather x-rated and adolescent dream filled night. Being industrial pin-up material tends to do that to a 17 year old male.

"Stop staring or I'll be inclined to use force," she told me playfully, fixing her dark red hair to fall over her shoulder. The trick was to make it look perfect but as if by accident at the same time.

I ignored her threat; I knew she liked being admired in every aspect of the word. Despite my obvious perverted ways towards her, the relationship we maintained was purely on a friendship basis. She knew that her body was tempting; tall, slim but with good child bearing hips and a great rack. My theory is that she decided to be attracted to her own gender to piss off the whole male population, despite her whole 'self discovery' speech.

"Admit it; you need my staring eyes to make you feel good about yourself. It lets you know that your body is still bang-able."

She snorted, her jade eyes rolling in a disbelieving way, "I have the whole school to do that silly! Plus, you're male. Your admiration means nothing to me."

"Please don't go on a femi-nazi speech."

She smiled at me, patting my head as if I were a mere child, "Don't count on it."

I chuckled, feeling one tenth better than I did when entering the school. She had that effect I suppose, an ability to enhance your mood through playful banter.

With annoying confidence, she thread her arm through mine in a tight loop then pulling me, catching me off guard and causing me to stumble just the tiniest bit, "Time for homeroom sugar," she told me in that sing song voice of hers, each word dripping with honey, or something sweet, and a hint of permanent lust she always held in her voice.

I straightened myself out, pouting discreetly at the slight height advantage she had, "A warning would be appreciated next time Vic."

"Your off guard face is delicious," she replied, sending random winks to girls who walked passed her, not afraid or affected by the snide remarks she got in return. And every time one of them blushed it only enlightened her even more, boosting her already overwhelming confidence, "You should see it, Eddie. It's like the face of a pre-pubescent 12 year old Chinese boy watching porn for the first time and finding out his mother is an active participant."

"You need mental evaluation. Where do you come up with stuff like that?" I asked, slightly insulted from the disturbing comparison.

"I was abused as a child."

"It shows."

She giggled in response, her eyes still making approvals of girls in the hallway. She was actually a little scary when she was picking out her new victim of sexual discovery. She lurked like a predator with feline like grace down the sun lit hallways of our prideful school, her eyes scanning for worthy prey. Victoria was a nymph.

Homeroom passed rather quickly along with my other classes that lead into lunch. My classes weren't really filled with my Athlete peers and other dim witted associates as they asked for a certain level of intelligence. My homeroom had a few of them but they were scared off from the devilish grin Victoria would give them, just begging them to act on their natural instincts so she could exert some sort of violence for the day. The loss of dignity you experience when your female counterpart has to see to no one embarrassing you via verbal or physical abuse is great. Im surprised I still have testicles.

After Sociology 5th period I eagerly went to lunch. Due to the bad weather, eating outside was out of the question which meant congregating in the cafeteria with all the other students.

I sat myself down out our usual inside table with my other friends, all eccentrics on different levels. Segregation tended to do that to high school students who were set on fitting in with others but refused to change their image and personality.

It made sense that I sit next to Victoria in our small group; she was considered to be my best friend after all.

"Or maybe a church," I heard Victoria say, coming into the conversation late.

"Topic," I stated rather than asked. It was a thing we had, that we come up with a question and/or topic that we all add into. It was a conversation starter.

"Where we would like to fuck someone or our biggest sexual fantasy," she replied casually, eating a French fry.

"In the most public place I could find at the time," her little brother James added thoughtfully, "On the off chance that I actually do get laid, I want people to know about it."

Victoria giggled, pride instantly lighting up her face as she ruffled his hair annoyingly. James and Victoria held no genetic markers at all. Whilst Victoria was a bombshell with her body and head and face, oh so descriptive, James was lanky, gangly and blonde. But, if his Dad had any play in his genes what-so-ever, he would soon fill out and grow up into a some-what decent male. I wasn't really going to say he was going to look hot, because that would be too weird.

I laughed, taking out my lunch from my bag because I refused to eat school food, "A Japanese porn set. Those people are very imaginative when it comes to sex. Imagine all the scenarios you could get into. Or the different ways you could get off."

"I second that," another friend of ours agreed, "Unless you're talking hentai Japanese porn set. Tentacle rape porn remains disturbing."

Victoria set her eyes upon Bella as she talked, her eyes burning with what would be known as lust. Bella must of felt perverted eyes upon her because she instantly blushed, dipping her head causing her chocolate brown hair to fall in front of her face, hiding her quickly reddening face.

"Imagine this scenario," Mike said dramatically, a side-effect of being a drama kid and born actor, "Work site with hunky, buff, just-so-happen-to-be gay work men wanting some from a little petite blond under aged boy." he sighed dreamily, twirling his fork between his fingers as his mind drifted off into his fantasy.

"I refuse to participate in the conversation." Jasper announced, "It's morally disturbing," he finished, pushing his thin framed glasses up his nose to sit properly on the bridge.

"Don't be so up tight," James scoffed, throwing his plastic spork at him, "It's not like it's ever going to happen anyway."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Mike smiled.

Jasper blushed slightly, "Despite this, I'm not comfortable with discussing my sexual fantasies," he straightened out his polo top and fixed his cardigan, "Also, it is not necessary."

"Humor us," Victoria insisted.

"I know this is not what you meant when you said 'humor us' but I am certain you will find it extremely humorous."

"Oh come on Jasper! You're annoying me with this up tightedness you seem to reek. We're your friends."

Jasper weighed the odds, knowing that despite Mike's assurance, we would probably laugh anyway if it was funny enough and sighed, "Don't laugh, okay?"

Victoria crossed an 'x' over her heart, smiling devilishly.

"Okay. So, Ive always considered myself as a sort of," he coughed clearing his throat, "Clark Kent type person," he squeaked out the last part.

James instantly started laughing, and then slapped a hand across his mouth, his eyes wide in fake innocence.

"See, I knew you'd laugh!"

Victoria laughed secretly, her head turned away from Jasper as I chuckled slightly, covering it up by taking a bite of my sandwich.

"Superman," Mike pondered, "That's cool. I mean, I wouldn't be dressed or role playing him of course but rather takin-"

"We know Mike," Bella interrupted.

"Can we please talk about something else now?" Jasper asked, a furious blush spreading like wild fire across his face until he resembled a tomato. He twiddled his thumbs and all of a sudden, the graffiti crafted into the table we sat at seemed very interesting.

"Oh come on Jasper," I caught his attention by clicking my fingers in front of his face, reaching over the table, "Our ones were probably more embarrassing than yours."

"Then why did you laugh at me!" he whined, much like a 7 year-old who had to share his limited edition Optimus Prime model robot with his little brother.

"Because you're a nerd," Mike stated.

Jasper pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and went on to ignore us. It continued on like this throughout the rest of our lunch period, trying to coax Jasper out of his stubborn ignorance towards us by coming up with more than embarrassing sexual encounters we wanted to indulge in and cracking jokes to make him laugh and smile.

Lunch always went rather fast with us which was rather unfortunate because it was nice just sitting there, being the true forms of our idiotic selves. And on this day it would have been nice for lunch to last forever because then I wouldn't have ended up in the events that followed and none of my misfortunes would have happened.

On this particular Wednesday during 6th and 7th period in my boring, compulsory study period, things started off rather ordinary. I was completely immersed with my Greek Mythology study with a daydreaming Mike sitting next to me when the teacher spoke up to gather everyone's attention.

"Class, please look this way," Mr. Harrison spoke, clearing his throat, "Mr. Evans and Ms. Jameson, that sort of behavior is inappropriate!" he quickly turned his attention to everyone else occupying the room, "I would like everyone to welcome a new student. Some of you might have met him previously during the day."

At this announcement, I removed my attention from my book that I was enjoying immensely to the boy standing confidently at the front of the room.

I turned to Mike after he elbowed me in the side, "He's hot," he whispered my way.

"Would you like to introduce yourself?" Mr. Harrison asked.

The boy chuckled, "Yeah, for the 5th time today," he looked around and smiled, "Well, my name is Jacob Black. I like long walks on the beach, Sean Connery impersonators and my guitar." He smiled and I swear I nearly vomited from how awfully shiny it was.

Despite the nauseatingly bright smile he seemed to wear permanently on his face, I laughed silently at the sarcastic introduction he produced.

"Well, that was," Mr. Harrison took a moment to ponder, "Interesting. Would you like to take a seat across from Mr. Newton?"

The boy, now known as Jacob, looked confused until Mr. Harrison realized he couldn't possibly know who that was and pointed to the seat across from Mike. He nodded enthusiastically and made his way towards us.

"You think he's gay?" Mike asked me discreetly.

"Has it ever stopped you before?" I asked, getting a laugh in return.

He sat, or rather flopped gracefully if that makes any sense, into his assigned seat, instantly holding out his hand to Mike, "Jacob Black. Nice to meet you," he finished with a grin.

Mike took his hand, shaking it suggestively, "Mike Newton," he purred out causing myself to roll my eyes in amusement, "Very nice to meet you."

Either this guy was really nice and didn't want to dismiss my good friend harshly, happily oblivious or he just didn't care that he was being hit on. He turned his attention to me to catch me chuckling and smiled; giving me the same hand gesture he gave Mike, "Hey Im-"

"Jacob Black," I interrupted, gripping his hand as tightly as possible to show my manly strength and shaking it roughly, "I heard. Im Edward Cullen."

Now that I look back on the whole situation, I wish Id just kept my nose buried in my Greek Mythology book, ignored Jacob and let Mike rape him with his eyes, because then everything wouldn't have changed and I wouldn't be confused as hell as to what was currently going on. And even though I knew, and know, this to be untrue, I pin point this first meeting to be the starting point of my problems.

Only because Jacob Black, the boy I shook hands with and introduced myself to in the friendliest way possible whilst remaining interested in my book, was the cause of my problems; in more than one way.

So, this is a taste of the things to come. Personally, I think its the best work Ive done so far.

Read my other story, if you feel the need to.

Review or flame; whichever you feel like doing.