Of Fire and Ice

Chapter One: The Awakening

Bella Swan

"Let me get this straight, Mr. Banner, Jacob Black, the Jacob Black I have spent three years painstakingly molding to be my partner for Sectionals twisted his ankle, and correct me if I'm wrong, in beach football with his pestilent bumbling band of baboons?"

The tiny mouse of a man who was by all intents and purposes coach of Forks High School Figure skating club swallowed and nodded. He was sweating and his eyes veering everywhere but me.

Served him right, I probably looked like a giant basilisk waiting to turn him into stone after I chomp him to bits and pieces.

"And why, Mr. Banner, was Jacob allowed to play football a month before Sectionals?"

He visibly gulped and raised his shaking hands. "Ms. Swan, it was not me who authorized his leave, I swear it was Principal Volturi –"

I raised my hand and cut him off mid speech. He was sweating buckets now, and from the looks of it, he's doing everything he can not to piss his pants.

"I want to hear no more of these excuses. This is my last year, take note of it Mr. Banner, my last year as a skater, I will not tolerate the loss of the national gold on my last year of skating. You better fix this or I will end your career!"

I slammed Jacob's skates down Banner's table and stormed out of his office. I could hear him weeping through the doors but it was alright, I didn't care. I wanted that Gold medal, I needed it. That Gold medal was the only thing left – of course it is, I have worked all my life for this.

I walked along the hallway briskly my foot was aching, my ankle needing a cool wrap and my sweater was so ratty I don't know the last time I washed it. I had to take my big-ass backpack from my locker and then do a ton of homework, and I also had to reply to at least one university before all the due dates pass me by.

"Bella!"

I turned around at the gasping voice that called me from the Org- Rooms.

"Hey, Angela, why are you here so late? Shouldn't you be running off home now? Reverend Webber will be worried."

She laughed and waved me off. "I have a date with Ben Cheney, I'm just waiting for the hockey team to finish practice. In the meantime, I need you to sign these, order slips for Homecoming, and some new orders for beakers in the Bio room, also the invitation letter to the National math decathlon is awaiting your reply and Harvard Honor Society has invited us to attend an award ceremony for Most Outstanding Students of the Year."

I internally groaned as I looked at the mass of paper work Angela handed off to me. Angela was the greatest girl you can ever meet. Vice President of the Student Council, she keeps things in check for me.

I live a very hectic life in order to create a stupendous resume. Isabella Marie Dwyer-Swan, age seventeen, senior at Forks High, President of the Student Council, Science Club, Math Club and Literature Club. Ace Volunteer at the Red Cross, Founder of Stars and Planets, Editor in Chief of The Spartans, Captain of the Figure Skating Team, Three- Time National Champion for Pairs Skating, Olympic Athlete and Valedictorian of class 2011.

I wasn't always this way.

Once upon a time I was just a girl, shy, simple, invincible. My dreams were simple, all I ever wanted… well it doesn't matter now does it? What matter is the now, who I am, who I will become, I will never be just that old doormat again. I don't need to be, I am where I belong, I have found my calling.

Next year I am going off to Harvard Medical School, train to be a Neurosurgeon, save a life. Save a million lives.

Who cares if I don't have a life of my own?

Through the years I have learnt its better to be feared than to be afraid, to be cold as ice, rather that flash with the brilliance of a fire that will surely burn out. Its better to be Bella Swan, Queen Bitch rather than to be Bella-loca. Its better now, who I am.

She's long gone and dead, and it was better that way.

Will I ever forget her murderer? No. But I owe him this, I owe him me. Without him Bella Swan will never exist, and I guess, for all intents and purposes I should thank him for killing my soul, because her death meant my birth.

It doesn't matter if I am just a shell of a human being.

What matters is that in a few months from now, I am getting out of this world and I am going to live in reality. It's better that I opened my eyes now, rather than later, because then… it's harder to fall when you have climbed so high.

I'm at rock bottom. Where else can I fall down to?

Edward Cullen

"Cullen, I'm open, where the fuck are you going?"

I didn't listen to Emmett, I wanted this shot in, I wanted to win this thing. Me. By my own hands.

It was always by my own hands that I win, I fight, I lose. At the end of the day I always lose, and there's nothing I can do to change it.

I hit the puck with all my might. It sailed through the ice straight through the goal. The whistle blew and Emmett smacked my head. "What the fuck is your problem McCarty?"

Emmett eyed me warily and head locked me dragging me to the benches. "You gotta cool your shit Ed, Coach C. already gave you a warning, you don't want to mess things up again. You gotta learn how to pass and be a team, or Carlisle's going to kick your butt out of this team."

I shrugged Emmett's arm off of me and flipped him the bird. "I know I'm wearing Carlisle thin but I'm trying here man. Not everyone can be a loved son as you are."

Emmett looked far into the ice where Carlisle wore the stupid team hat and drew on his compact white board, indicating places, shots, strategies. He signaled a ten minute break and gave me and Em a wide, shit eating grin.

"He works thirty six hours a shift and he still volunteers here once a week, and he never missed a game. He's the best dad Ed, you gotta give him a shot. Not every old man is like ours. You gotta move on from that, we can't change where we came from, but we can change where we're going."

I shook my head at Emmett's Gandhi. "When did you get so fucking smart." He sniggered and messed up my hair, as if it could get any messier. "I was always smart kid. Just think about it, okay? You messed up once, big deal. You didn't fix it, and trust me one day its going to bite you back in the ass. Don't let it be like that with Coach C and Momma E. Speaking of, you better clean up your shit in front of her or we're on dish duty, both of us."

"Yeah, try cleaning yours first shithead, before going all Mommy on me."

"Screw you ass hole!" Emmett gave me an affectionate hug and trotted back on ice. Carlisle slung an arm around his massive shoulders and together they strategized for the championship games.

Emmett and I didn't exactly come from noble beginnings. I won't bore you with talk of shit on how poor orphan Edward came to be in the care of the Cullens. Along with his big bad ass good as orphaned neighbor from the slums of Chicago.

It's all a blur to me as well, to tell you the truth. Carlisle says its PTSD, I say it's just me naturally forgetting the hell I've been through.

We moved to bumfuck Forks a year after Em's and my placement with the Cullens. It was all very OC- like if you ask me. And yes, I watch that shit, only because Alice forces me and Em to watch it with her.

Alice is just like us, she was adopted first by Carlisle and Esme when she was thirteen, when Carlisle chanced upon her in the ER where she was taken due to three broken ribs and a cracked forehead. Her uncle took it too far on her and her aunt that night. Her aunt never made it to dawn, and Alice was in terrible trauma before she recovered.

She's a little shit, that pixie is, always babbling about the stupidest stuff ever, however, she's my baby sister. And apparently Em and I are putty in her hands.

Putty, just like she was that night… And my hands clenched. There was no point in thinking about it. It only burns up my blood, churning the anger I keep so hard to suppress. Anger at her, at the world, at myself. I brought this on, it's all my fault.

A loud banging sound resounded throughout the rink and we all turned to see puce face Mr. Banner shaking in his shiny shoes at the doors with a fuming Principal Volturi at his side. "Carlisle, I need to speak with you."

Carlisle's eyes narrowed slightly and turned to look at Emmett and I. "Aro, yes, speak freely in front of the team, I'm sure there is nothing you can say that they cannot or wouldn't hear in the future?"

Carlisle turned his eyes on me and I shrugged and drew a halo in the air. I was innocent. I didn't do shit. I reined it in after beating Newton and Crowley and threatening to kill Yorkie. I did not prey on those ugly as fuck dickheads anymore, and when I reported their behavior, the Volturi vulture kicked their asses off my team.

I didn't do anything right now.

"Jacob Black has met with unfortunate circumstances in a football match last week."

Black? The figure skating pansy? Psh, served him right. That faggot spent as much ice time as I did, but instead of shooting pucks like a real man does, he twiddles around on his tippy-toes like a fucking ballerina.

Carlisle's brow furrowed. "Yes, I heard. How does this concern my team in anyway?"

Aro sighed and turned angry eyes on Banner. "Mr. Banner here was unable to find a replacement for Mr. Black on such short notice, because well, he did not place an alternate player for Mr. Black. I hope you understand the situation, Carlisle, for I am about to ask you for the biggest sacrifice ever. We need a replacement for Mr. Black to compete in the Sectionals Pair Skating competition."

Carlisle smirked as the rest of the team held in their snorts. I gulped. I was sweating bullets, I knew where this is going. Emmett looked at me and shook his head, oh yeah, the bastard was scared for my welfare.

"I'm sure this is a great concern Principal Aro, but no one on this team had ever figure skated before." Said Ben Cheney, assistant captain of the team.

Carlisle turned to me and smiled big time. "There is, Mr. Cheney. In fact before your dear captain learned how to hold a stick, he knew how to hold a full spin on figure skating ice."

And cue the shocked gasps. I heat crawl up my neck and I glared at Carlisle. "No way. Carlisle, I will not put on those sparkly spangles tights you and Esme keep in the cellar, no way. I will not skate on that ice."

"I won't force you Edward, but just hear out what the principal has to say."

"This is quite a great deal for you Mr. Cullen. Make it through a month to train for sectionals and by any chance win, we are willing to remove all infractions to your sheet, and give you exemptions from midterms."

I shook my head. "I don't need exemptions Principal, I always get top scores in those tests."

The vulture shook his head. "Yes, but still your grades, sterling as they are, will not get you to Ivy League given the state of your conduct. Hot headed brawls, a boy sent to the hospital for a broken nose, drinking, not to mention repeated tardiness. You may be running for Salutatorian Mr. Cullen but you cannot hide the fact that you are a running mess. Do this, however, you will be given a week's worth of free absences to be used for training of course, a fresh slate and an exemption. All you have to do Mr. Cullen, is dance."

I wanted to go to an Ivy League school, and the Vulture is right. Fucking Harvard won't accept me till my permanent record is set straight. I may not do right by Carlisle all the time, but this is the biggest fucking thank you I can manage.

"Fine, fine. I agree to it." My team froze, and Carlisle stared at me.

The Vulture just smirked and turned his back. Banner looked like he wanted to kiss the ground and worship me.

"You are expected to be here at 7:00 tomorrow morning Mr. Cullen. Ms. Swan does not tolerate tardiness."

Swan?

"What?" I blurted out loud. Aro fucking turned back to me with a smirk on his face.

"Why, Mr. Cullen, I'm sure I told you this is a pairs skating competition. I trust you know the school's main skating athlete? 7 sharp, Edward. Bella does not wait for anyone."

I felt fire consume my body.

I was dancing with Bella Swan.

Not just dancing, skating.

Oh fuck me.

"Yeah, Edward, you are totally fucked." Emmett mumbled, just as a loud screech broke through the silence of the rink.

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EDWARD ANTHONY CULLEN?"

Oh, I was royally, rightfully screwed.