New Year, new drabble fic. I had an idea last night that sounded like something I'd like to read. Here it is: unbeta'd and more or less written "off the cuff". I have no idea how often I will update, but as long as it remains fun, I'll post it.

Summary: Bella has never liked a guy who's liked her back. She's finally found her groove when a stranger starts sending her mixed tapes. When her assumptions prove wrong, will she send mixed signals to the real man behind the music? High School 1990s fic. Rated M for language, situations and possible underage drinking.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters.


Jasper Whitlock has the loveliest, trilling whistle I'd ever heard. It's the kind of whistle that any warbler would envy. I complimented his whistling style last year, but James overhead and turned it into some "skin flute" jibe.

I'm getting my books out of my locker when I catch the unmistakable opening notes of Nirvana's "All Apologies". A thrill surges through me and I turn to recognize my comrade in song.

"Oh my God, Jasper! You like Nirvana, too? I gasp.

Jasper stops whistling and breaks into a smile. He's a recent transplant from the Republic of Texas and girls go nuts over his drawl. He's tall and lean with floppy blond hair – definitely easy on the eyes.

"Hell, yeah! I'm buying their Unplugged album afterschool today."

"You are so lucky." Last month, I exhausted all my savings and any advances on my allowance through December when I bought Doc Martens. I've been really into the Seattle grunge look since last year, when I tried to get Peter to notice me. It didn't work, but I have a new found appreciation for the local music scene.

"I could make you a tape, if you want," he offered sheepishly.

"Really?" I squeal. I've gotta curb my enthusiasm or I'll look so uncool. "Cool."

"All right, late'!"

With my back against the lockers, I watch Jasper's retreating form cross campus. Sweet! I cannot wait to get hold of that tape!