He pronounces my name like a French word, and ends up sounding like a pompous French-speaking asshole. So I don't answer.


Yeah, pompous, all right, so I still don't answer.

"Bella, come on, stop reading and look at me."

Actually, he's an asshole without all that French to begin with.

"Mademoiselle Cherry?"

Oh, who am I kidding – when he speaks French, his voice melts into the words.

"What?" Good. I sound completely uninterested.

"Close the book."

I do so. "What do you want?"

"Whoa." He drops the goofy French charade. Now, now, he does not look pleased. "Why the fuck are you getting mad at me?"

Darn. Did I sound angry? "Not getting mad. I'm trying to do my homework for once."

I do not want to sound angry. I do not want to sound happy. I want to sound uninterested.

I keep my face smooth. "You have your book opened."

He takes notice of the French textbook on his lap and shrugs.

He expertly lights yet another cigarette; he closes his eyes and fucking moans. That's his fourth pack, and it's only three in the afternoon. He's going to die in two years at this rate. Whatever. Not my business.

I return to the book, not upset but not chipper either, and I have no idea what Charles Dickens is saying. I'm only two pages in but I'm guessing he never learned how to write in short sentences.

"So." Uninterested. "What were you gonna say?"


I peek at him. He's gorgeous and mysterious with the smoke surrounding his face. "You wanted to tell me something?"

"Oh. That. Yeah."

He brushes the hair off my shoulder, so slowly that I feel the urge to swallow. My mouth parts when his hands sneak onto my waist, going up and down and driving me crazy. When he coos my name, he has all my attention.

I can tell he's trying to push me down so I'm lying down but I don't want to go without a fight.

But I do. He's in control.

His lips are so close to mine, and I think he wants to kiss me.

Only he blows smoke into my eyes.

"What is your problem?" I twist and writhe as I try to get under the sheets for clean air; I'm coughing the entire time.

I hear him cackle, all with his head tossed back and shoulders bouncing, and when I see the opportunity to kick his stomach, I do. Hard.

"Babe, babe, stop it." He's still laughing. Apparently I have yet to kick his groin. "I'm sorry! Jesus, stop!"

I stop when I'm breathless.

He looks satisfied. See? Asshole.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he mumbles, snorting and smiling, as he finally, finally kisses me – no, chews – on my lips. "It's just that you're so cold with me all the time. It's nice seeing you get angry every once in a while. I'm just checking to make sure you're human and all."

I push. "Disgusting, get off me. Don't you get tired of touching me? You have to learn to keep your hands to yourself."

"Nope, not happening."

"You're so immature. It's a damn shame I'm the only one who knows that."

He's not amused. "Sorry for being so immature, but at least I'm not the school resident whore. Sucks that people still have a smidgen of respect for you and think only half the rumors are true… when they all are."

He sounds pretty serious this time, so it stings.

I don't let it show.

"Hey," I begin, "I don't think you understand that this is –"

"You room, your bed –" he cuts in, having heard this before, "and your cup?"

With that, he taps his cigarette on the rim of my coffee mug. I'm guessing the look on my face is priceless because he smirks.

Uninterested. "Whatever."

It gets quiet for a second, but he suddenly calls my name again.

"Will you shut up?" I sigh. "Just tell me what you want already."


I roll my eyes. "Yes, honey, anything."

He smiles widely, and I can't help smiling back because his face gets disgustingly handsome when he does that with his mouth.

"Wanna go to prom with me?"

My smile diminishes, and I stick up a middle finger.

"Don't give me that!" he laughs. "I'm serious."

"I'm just as serious." I flip it again.

"I wanna take you, baby." His arms surround my waist so completely that I get goosebumps, and his kissing on my neck, all over, is not helping either. "You can have me the rest of that night."

"Are you fucking high?" I'm pretty aghast. "You have a girlfriend, hello?"

"And you don't? Have a boyfriend, I mean?" He pauses. "By the way, I use the term boyfriend very loosely."

I ignore the second half of his answer. "More reason not to go."

"I just love how you're so stubborn." He sighs like he's in love. What a jerk.

It's kind of funny though. "Thanks."

He loves everything about me but never me. Not that anyone else does, anyway – loves me, that is.

"Ed." I frown. "I'm starving."

He blinks. "Yeah, same."

"Wanna order something?"

"Pizza?" He prattles off. "Chinese? Pho?"



"Oh, and Ed?"


"You're paying."

"Like you ever pay." He says that but he's harmless.

He reaches over the nightstand for his phone, and I smile at the back of his head because he can't see me.

"Shit," he says.

I know that face.

"It's already two. Maggie's probably waiting." He doesn't even look in my direction as he slides right off the bed. "Where's my watch?"

I throw it to him, he catches, and he's suddenly all dressed up, ready to go.

I want him back in bed already. "You and your preppy clothes. Aw, Mr. Fashionista."

"You don't get to talk. You crossdress."

I mock gasp. "I do not!"

He snickers and doesn't look at me again as he slips out the door. Just like that.

This is really annoying, and I don't want to feel annoyed.

I hear his rushed footsteps down the stairs and later the beep from his sedan.

Suddenly I am flicking open my bedroom window and shouting his name like a maniac.

He looks up, eyebrows rising.

It's pretty cold out for summer season. I'm also naked from head to toe, but I don't give a crap.

"I want to go to prom!" I shout at the top of my lungs.

"With me?"

I deadpan. "No, with Benji."

A slow grin.

"You're going to break up with her?"

"Maggie? Sure."

"Good. Ask me again when you do."

Although he doesn't actually nod, I know he's nodding.

Then he's staring at my tits. "Put some clothes on!"

I don't. Instead I pop my chest out and play with my nipples.

He's smirking. He expects nothing less from me.

The car pulls out of the driveway, and I try really hard to hold my tongue but I can't.

"Maggie's a bitch!" I yell, laughing when I see his middle finger poking out his window.

"I'll call you later!" he shouts back.

"You better!" I am breathless by the time his car turns into a dot.

I order Chinese all alone and stuff my mouth.

I clean my coffee mug.

He forgets to call.

Not that he ever remembers to.

No big surprise there.




AN: Hi, everyone! Now that I realize that my other fic, All We Are, will come to close soon, I decided to get a head start on this new fic. Here, we still have high school, drama, Bella, and Edward, but I'm sure you already noticed that this is a bit different from AWA.

Tell me what you think!