If You Only Knew: Chapter 1 - The Beginning of the End

A bit of a disclaimer before moving forward: This story will touch on sensitive subjects like drug use/abuse, self-injurious behaviors, suicide, and mental health issues. If any of these are triggers for you, please proceed with caution.

Characters belong to SM. Everything else belongs to me.

Chapter 1 – The Beginning of the End

One month later…

Isabella Swan sat on the edge of her bed, head hung in her hands and the steady tempo of a nasty hangover playing behind her temples. This was not at all how she had envisioned starting her senior year.

Behind her, a sandy haired, muscular boy was beginning to stir beneath the sheets. "Where did you go?" he mumbled sleepily, reaching his arm out in search of her. She slid off the bed and stood up, massaging her forehead and swallowing back the wave of nausea that hit her.

"I need to shower. I'll wake you when I'm finished." She didn't bother giving him time to respond. Instead, she padded to the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

Isabella carefully examined her reflection in the mirror. Soft brown eyes stared back at her, still partially bloodshot from the night before. She had some dark circles to tend to, remnants of the relentless string of sleepless nights that had invaded her bed. Other than that her complexion was still perfect, and with a few well-placed smiles she could fool everyone at school into thinking she was the same girl she'd been when their junior year came to an end. All in all she was doing much better this morning than she ever expected.

Sighing with frustration, she splashed some cold water on her face. Truth be told, Isabella didn't have much to complain about, at least not on the outside. She was a beautiful girl. No, scratch that, she was stunning and she knew it. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, and fell to the middle of her back in loose waves. She had wide, chestnut colored eyes that were brimmed by long, thick lashes, and an unblemished ivory colored complexion. At 5'4" she was slender yet toned from the many hours she spent at cheerleading practice each week. Her closet was filled with designer clothing, her dresser scattered with high-end cosmetics, and her wallet contained four major credit cards with large limits, thanks to her step-dad Phil. Yes, on the outside her life screamed 'perfection'.

Inside she was fucked up beyond repair, a fact supported by multiple stints in therapy, numerous medications, and two unsuccessful suicide attempts that landed her a two-month hospital stay.

Over the years she'd learned how to construct a good front, and as a result none of her classmates had a clue as to just how big of a mess she truly was.

When she was growing up, her mother always told her "if you've got it, flaunt it," and she took that advice to heart. She, along with her two best friends, Rosalie Hale and Alice Brandon, reigned over the class of 2012 like royalty. Guys wanted to date them, girls wanted to be them, and they commanded respect and attention without having to do so much as lift a finger. If you were on Isabella and her friends' radar, you were guaranteed a spot in the right social circle at Saint Vincent's Academy. The power she had was what got her through each day.

Along with power, however, came expectations, namely that a person be thoughtful with regards to everyone around them. Not everyone in the school fancied her, but that was only expected. Isabella had developed her fair share of enemies over the years, a group consisting mostly of girls who were jealous of her in some way, whether it was of her wealth, her looks, her popularity, or her academic achievements.

While she tried not to be outwardly rude to anyone, she made sure these girls knew where their place was and who they were up against. On more than one occasion it had "slipped her mind" to send them an invitation to a special party or charity event she organized. Her classmates knew the guest lists were no accident, but nobody on the outside ever dreamed of calling her out on it. Over the years she'd developed such a good reputation in the community that it was doubtful anyone would believe her to be the perpetrator of ill actions.

She opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Xanax. As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, Isabella felt what could only be described as anxiety coursing through her veins, slowly and purposefully making its way to every limb in her body. Something big was going to happen this year. She didn't know what it was or when it was coming, but she could feel it, and for some unknown reason it frightened her.

Nothing could be worse than last year, however. Isabella was sure of that.

She filled a Dixie cup and swallowed the small peach-colored pill before stepping into the shower. Isabella took her time, shampooing her hair, shaving her legs, exfoliating with her favorite sugar scrub, and conditioning, all while enjoying the feel of the hot water drumming against her body. She wrapped herself in a fluffy yellow towel and walked back into the bedroom. Mike was fully awake now, sitting on the edge of her bed tying his sneakers. She stopped in front of her walk-in closet and dropped the towel, hoping the action would take his mind off of leaving and focus it on something else.

"I have to go." She watched in the mirror as he stood and headed for her bedroom door.

It's always the same, she thought sadly.

Isabella turned and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "Would it kill you to stay for once?" She immediately regretted saying the words. Sticking around through all her bullshit was hard enough on him. She had no doubt he would flee if she became too needy.

Mike sighed and closed the gap between them. "It's the first day of school, Bella. My parents will kill me if I'm not home before they're up. Besides, I have to get ready too."

"I know. I'm sorry I said anything." Her fingertips danced sadly across his cheek, memorizing the paths created by a two-day-old five o'clock shadow.

Isabella and Mike Newton started dating at the beginning of their freshman year. Together, they made the perfect couple. He was the quarterback of the varsity football team, senior class president, and one of three candidates for valedictorian. She was the head cheerleader, vice president of the Saint Vincent's National Honor Society, and the daughter of a congressman and a successful Chicago lawyer. His parents owned a chain of grocery stores scattered throughout Illinois, Michigan, and Indiana, and both of his older siblings were off studying medicine at Ivy League universities.

Unfortunately Mike's parents were also overly involved in everything he did – including his relationship with Isabella. She was still shocked by the fact that they hadn't caught on to his tendency to spend multiple nights each week at her house.

Covering her hand with his, he pulled her fingers away from his face. "Emmett's at seven thirty?"

She nodded. "As far as I know."

He turned and disappeared through her bedroom door without another word. Isabella dropped to her knees and cradled her face in her hands. Hot tears dampened her skin and burned her eyes.

January marked the beginning of the slow, torturous downward spiral to what she knew would eventually be the end of her relationship with Mike. It wasn't his fault; he'd done everything he could and more for her since her father made an abrupt midnight departure from both their home and Isabella's life. He covered for her when she went on two and three day long benders with Rose, turned in her homework every time she forgot, and told the rest of their class that she was away taking care of a sick aunt when Renee finally sent her to a hospital.

He even had the highest of hopes for her when she returned to Chicago in May. Within a week, however, a grim reality started to set in. The prescription pills were gone, but the pot wasn't. The benders came to an end, but fresh cuts continued to appear on her legs, and the scars from previous ones hadn't gone away. Wild, impulsive Isabella had disappeared, only to be replaced with a depressed, fragile shell that threatened to break with the slightest pressure.

Loving her had to be the hardest thing for Mike to do.

If he still loves you, that is.

The negative thoughts never seemed to end.

Isabella took a deep breath and got to her feet, dreading the unavoidable mixture of crowded hallways, fake smiles, and mundane classes that were about to combine to create her senior year.

An hour and fifteen minutes later she stood waiting outside Emmett McCarty's townhouse. She glanced down at her outfit, hoping it wasn't too much for their first day back. Saint Vincent's had a pretty standard dress code: navy blue skirts or pants, white button-down dress shirts, and black shoes were all they required. Isabella had opted to go for her trademark prep school sex kitten look, wearing a plaid patterned navy blue pleated mini skirt, white knee-high socks, black chunky heeled shoes, and a collared white shirt with the first three buttons undone. She'd grabbed one of Phil's navy colored ties and hung it loosely around her neck before leaving the house. Her hair hung in large curls and her eyes were lined with a smoky black shadow.

Depressed or not, she had a reputation to uphold, and Isabella wasn't about to begin her senior year with a fall from grace.

"Bella!" She looked up and saw Alice skipping towards her. Bella's heart warmed and a smile spread across her face at the sight of her best friend. She opened her arms and pulled Alice in for a tight embrace.

"God I've missed you, Ali! You look so good!" Bella stood back and took in her friend's appearance. 

Alice spun around playfully before giving her another hug. At the beginning of the summer, Alice's parents had decided to whisk her and her sister Bree off to Europe for three months. Bella and Rosalie were bummed at first, but Alice was so excited that it was hard for the other two girls not to share in her enthusiasm. Alice sent them post cards regularly throughout the summer, Bella made sure to send out group email threads at least once a week, and the three girls had engaged in multiple late-night Skype chats so Alice didn't feel like she was out of the loop.

If only Alice knew half the shit that went down this summer. The thought made Bella wince.

"I missed you too, B! I wish you and Rose could have been there with me! We have to plan a post-graduation trip." Alice dug around in her backpack, producing a small gift bag. "I got you a few things. I know it's not much, but your dad has been overseas so many times I wasn't sure what you did and didn't have in your collection."

Bella took the bag and opened it. There was a key ring with a miniature Eiffel Tower hanging off of it and a heart-shaped charm with "I love Paris" engraved in a delicate script. There was a shot glass from London, a magnet shaped like a beer mug from Munich, and a small notebook that had maracas and sombreros on it from Madrid. Bella laughed silently at the contents, knowing full well just how much thought and detail had gone into this small but endearing gift. She reached out and hugged Alice, placing the gift inside her messenger bag.

"Thank you so much! I love all of it!" Alice looked pleased with herself.

"What's up bitches?" Rosalie Hale was known for a lot of things; being ladylike wasn't one of them. 

Emmett's screen door slammed shut behind her, and she stopped on the porch to light a cigarette. She took a drag and blew a long stream of smoke into the fall air, walking down the sidewalk and slinging her arm over Bella's shoulders. Rosalie placed her lit cigarette against Bella's mouth. Bella, in turn, wrapped her lips around it and took a drag herself, eliciting an eye roll from Alice.

"I really hope you two quit that disgusting habit before we graduate. I would like you both to see my children some day."

Rosalie rolled her eyes and smirked at Alice. "I'll quit smoking when you quit trying to be the Martha fucking Stewart of Saint Vincent's." Rose pulled a flyer out of her purse and shoved it in Alice's face. "A bake sale? What the fuck is this shit? Classes haven't even started yet and you're already trying to organize the masses."

Alice put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. "I despise Martha Stewart, thank you very much! And for the record, I didn't organize that bake sale. I haven't even been back in the states for two days. When would I have had time to put something like that together?" Alice grabbed the paper from Rosalie and scanned the contents.

"Alice Brandon, not only are you the queen of multitasking, but you're also the philanthropic saint of our class." Emmett joined them, slipping his arm around Rose's waist possessively. "It's only natural for your name to be the first one to come to mind in these situations."

"Thanks Emmett. Remind me never to let you touch one of my chocolate chip cookies again." Alice swatted his arm playfully and flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder, turning her attention back to Rosalie. "No hug? No 'it's so good to see you again, Alice, I missed you this summer?'"

Rosalie grinned wickedly and took a few predatory steps towards Alice before pouncing on her. She picked her up and spun her around in a ridiculous display of a hug. "Oh Alice Brandon, it's so good to have you back home. B and I just weren't the same without you." Alice stuck her tongue out at Rose playfully before giving her a sincere hug.

"I'm glad to see I made it just in time for Brandon's welcome home reception." Mike walked up behind Bella, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and resting his chin on the top of her head. She leaned back into him and tipped her face up for a kiss. Mike's lips hit hers and her body relaxed instantly. Her anxiety-laced hangover still loomed, but his mere presence was enough to put her at ease. She smiled contentedly and entwined her fingers with his.

And the act begins, she thought sadly.

"Are we going to stand here and make small talk all morning or are we gonna smoke up?" Emmett pulled two perfectly rolled joints out of his pocket and held them up for everyone to see. Bella took a few steps forward and grabbed one from him, leading Mike around the side of the house. The rest of the group followed and they perched themselves on the picnic table nestled in the very back corner of the property.

Bella lit the first joint and inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in her lungs for several moments before exhaling and passing it to Alice. A half hour later both joints were exhausted and the five friends were happily sedated.

Saint Vincent's Academy was nestled in the middle of the Lincoln Park neighborhood, just a few short blocks from Emmett's home. Bella had spent the past seven years walking the familiar route each morning with the same small group of friends. When they were younger, Emmett's mom would send them off with fresh baked cinnamon rolls or turnovers, walking them to the corner and waiting there until she couldn't see them anymore. When she'd passed away from cancer two years earlier, the group traded in pastries for pot and started their new morning tradition. Emmett's dad traveled regularly for business and wasn't usually home to keep track of what his son did in his free time.

"What homeroom are you in, Ali?" Bella swung her and Mike's linked hands in the air, hitting herself in the forehead by accident. She burst out laughing and swung her free arm over her best friend's shoulders.

"I'm in Banner's again." Alice pouted a little before smirking. "I hope he did something about that hair carpet over the summer. I mean, c'mon, if you're gonna wear a toupee, at least wear a convincing one."

Rosalie laughed. "I'm in your homeroom. We should make it our senior year mission to come up with a name for that synthetic mess Banner has." Emmett and Mike whooped with laughter.

"How did I end up by myself with Cope?" Bella pushed her bottom lip out and pouted.

"At least you're not stuck with Mason. He's hated my guts ever since the whole tee peeing incident freshman year." Emmett held the door open and the group filed inside school. The once comforting scenery now left Bella feeling discombobulated.

"Hi Bella!" Angela Weber greeted her brightly, stepping forward and giving her a small hug. Bella returned the hug, smiling warmly at Angela and reaching out to touch her friend's hair.

"You cut your hair! And colored it! It looks gorgeous!" Angela had been a brunette for as long as Bella knew her. Now, her hair was black, making her blue eyes stand out against her pale skin.

"I wanted to try something different. You know, senior year and all." Angela pulled a planner out of her bag and flipped it open. "Would you be available to meet later this week to start planning cheerleading tryouts and homecoming events? I was thinking we could get together at my place after school on Thursday? Or your place if that's easier."

"Thursday works great and I'm fine with going to your house." Bella twisted a lock of hair around her fingers, trying to concentrate on what Angela was saying despite her mind's desire to wander to every other available distraction. The warning bell rang and Angela slammed her locker.

"It was great seeing you Bella! I'm sure I'll see you in the court at lunch!"

"I'll be there!" Bella smiled once more at Angela before turning to Mike and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Text me after homeroom. And make sure that bitch Lauren knows we 'survived the summer' as she so delicately put it on Facebook last week." Bella used her fingers to make air quotes as she spoke.

"Whatever you say." Mike tipped his head down and brushed his lips against hers before giving her a quick hug and heading off down the hall. Bella said her goodbyes to the rest of her friends and trudged off towards her homeroom.

She'd hoped that arriving at school and seeing familiar faces would lessen the anxiety she'd felt since that morning, but as she drew closer and closer to room 14, Bella's stomach started to twist and her palms began sweating.

Big changes – and not necessarily good ones – were coming this year. Bella could feel it.

The question now was could she survive it?

IYoK

Edward Cullen stared at the ceiling above him as if it was a famous piece of art. He cocked his head to the side, tracing the swirly patterns in the paint with his eyes until he felt dizzy and had to close them. He leaned back into the plush pillows behind him and sighed with disgust.

A month ago he would have woken up in his perfectly normal bed in his perfectly normal home outside Seattle. He would have showered and gotten dressed, grabbed some Pop-Tarts, and kissed his mom goodbye before running out the door with his brother and best friend, Jasper. They would have clambered into his Jeep Wrangler and headed off to pick up Kate and Tanya, the other two pieces in the puzzle that was their life.

That was before the accident.

Now he was here, lying in an oversized bed with a pillow-top mattress and a set of sheets that probably cost as much as he'd sold the Jeep for. The scenery outside wasn't that of Bellevue, but that of Lincoln Park, an upscale part of Chicago. The 10,000 square foot monstrosity owned by his aunt and uncle was home now.

Edward hated all of it.

He rolled over and stared out the window. His room was on the second floor, adorned with a balcony that overlooked the otherwise hidden backyard. If he thought hard enough he could picture the way the yard looked every December when his family visited for Christmas. He remembered how his mother would stand in the window of the kitchen and stare out at the snow-covered expanse. Her eyes would fill with excitement as she described what her dream home looked like and how she would decorate it for the holidays.

Oh, Mom. Edward couldn't stop the tear that trickled down his cheek.

Peter and Charlotte Cullen met during their freshman year at the University of Washington. They got married shortly after graduation and moved to Bellevue. Peter was a lawyer and worked at a firm in downtown Seattle. Charlotte was an elementary school teacher.

Three years into their marriage, the couple decided they wanted to start a family. After several miscarriages, Charlotte's doctor determined she was infertile and suggested she and Peter look into adoption. Ten months and a dozen meetings with lawyers later, the Cullens traveled to Boston and successfully adopted Jasper. One year after that they adopted Edward and their family was complete.

The boys were the same age and took to one another immediately. They were inseparable throughout most of their childhood and into adolescence. As they grew older, the two brothers found themselves drifting into separate social circles, but they remained close even though they didn't spend as much time together. Charlotte frequently reminded the boys of how proud she was of all they'd accomplished and what bright futures they each had. Peter could always be heard telling a colleague, friend, or relative how he and Charlotte had somehow managed to take an unpleasant situation and turn it into a picture perfect family.

Edward choked back a sob and pulled the covers up around his chin. Their picture perfect family didn't exist anymore.

July had changed everything.

The accident happened on a Saturday night. As soon as the boys were old enough to stay home on their own, Peter and Charlotte turned Saturday into their "date night," a time when they could go out and enjoy themselves without any children tagging along. That particular Saturday, Edward's parents had gone to Seattle for dinner and a theater production. They were on their way home when a drunk driver crossed the highway median, hitting their car head on. Both of them were killed instantly.

When Edward received the call requesting his presence at the medical examiner's office, he thought it was some sort of sick, twisted joke. Stories like this filled television screens and newspapers on a regular basis, but he never imagined anything of this magnitude would hit so close to home.

Peter's younger brother, Carlisle Cullen, had flown out the next morning with his wife Esme. They took care of the funeral arrangements and did the best they could to try and help Edward and Jasper through the difficult time. The day after the service, Peter's lawyer came to the house, explaining the terms laid out in the will. The couple's assets were divided evenly between Jasper and Edward, and Carlisle and Esme would get legal custody of the boys until they turned eighteen.

Two weeks later their belongings were shipped to Chicago, and the day after that they boarded a plane for their new home.

Edward sat up and hung his legs over the side of the bed. He raked his fingers through his hair and headed for the bathroom that was connected to his new bedroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the face that looked back at him. His normally expressive jade colored eyes were flat and emotionless, with dark circles shadowing them, serving as evidence of his lack of sleep. His cheeks were sunken in and a thick layer of stubble coated his jaw and upper lip. He hadn't showered in several days, leaving his brown hair matted on the top of his head in a greasy mess.

Edward's shoulders sagged sadly as he began his morning routine. He went through the motions, brushing his teeth, taking a shower, shaving, and attempting to tame his unruly hair. He dressed himself in the clothing that Esme had taken him to get the day before. He spent his days at public school in Washington, and as a result he didn't have anything deemed "appropriate" for Saint Something-or-Other, the posh private school Carlisle and Esme choose to send him and his brother to. Edward grabbed his book bag from the nearby desk chair and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Jasper was already seated at the breakfast bar, eating a bowl of oatmeal and downing a glass of orange juice. Their parents' death was hard on both boys, but Jasper was handling the situation with an air of grace that Edward just didn't possess.

"Good morning, Edward. Can I get you some oatmeal or maybe some fresh fruit?" Maria was 

Carlisle and Esme's live-in housekeeper. When he was growing up, Edward always dreamed of having a maid to make him dinner, do his laundry, and pick up after he and Jasper all but destroyed their playroom. Now that he lived in a house with one, it was just another uncomfortable thing for him to have to adjust to.

"Do you have any Pop-Tarts?"

"You're living in a house with two cardiac specialists, Edward, do you really think we'd allow Pop-Tarts to enter our kitchen?" Esme walked in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"You have two teenage boys living in said house now, Esme. You might need to make some exceptions," Jasper joked. Esme crossed the kitchen and gave him a kiss on the cheek as well before addressing Maria.

"I think I'd like to start preparing breakfast from now on. That gives you some time to sleep in and enjoy your morning."

Maria stared back at her in shock. "Is something wrong, Mrs. Cullen?"

"Not at all." Esme waved her hand in the air and went to the cupboard to retrieve the canister of steel cut oats. "Edward and Jasper are going through a lot right now, more than Carlisle or myself can imagine. I just want their transition into our house to be as easy, and hopefully as normal as possible."

"Pop-Tarts are normal," Edward muttered under his breath. Esme glanced over her shoulder at him and felt a stab of guilt in her stomach. She closed the cupboard door and folded her arms over her chest.

"There's a 7-Eleven on the way to school. I can have the driver stop there for you. I'm sure they have plenty of Pop-Tarts." Edward's face relaxed and a smile threatened to lift the corners of his lips.

"What's this I hear about Pop-Tarts?" Carlisle strode into the room, buttoning the sleeves on his dress shirt. He gave Esme a tender kiss on the lips and put his arm around her shoulders.

"Edward has an unhealthy addiction to processed, packaged, sugar-infused morning pastries." Jasper stood up to rinse his bowl, but Maria grabbed it from him before he could reach the sink. Edward rolled his eyes and slipped on the leather jacked he'd been carrying.

"Fuck you, Jazz." Edward glared at his brother. Jasper punched him lightly in the arm.

"It was just a joke, man. You need to lighten up," Jasper whispered. Edward squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard, nodding at his brother. He knew Esme and Carlisle were doing the best they could under the circumstances, but he was still so angry. He and Jasper had done nothing to deserve any of this. Family or not, it wasn't anybody's place to try to step in and change who he was, and he didn't plan on letting that happen – especially when he was just six months shy of turning eighteen.

"I know this is a tough time for you, but that kind of language isn't allowed in this house." Carlisle reached across the breakfast bar and put his hand on top of Edward's. "Esme and I are more than happy to make accommodations for you and your brother, but you're both going to have to make some accommodations for us as well."

Edward kicked the toe of his combat boot against a nearby stool and looked up at Carlisle. His uncle's expression was soft and his eyes were filled with sincerity. Edward bit his bottom lip and nodded slowly, pulling his hand away from Carlisle's.

A horn honked from outside and Esme glanced at her watch. "The driver is here. Edward, take this." She rummaged through her purse and passed him a fifty-dollar bill. Edward held it in his hand and stared blankly at it. Esme reached out and closed his fingers around it, wrapping his hand up with both of hers. "That should get you enough Pop-Tarts to last for a few months."

He swallowed back a sob and placed his free hand on top of Esme's. "Thank you." Esme smiled and pulled both him and Jasper in for hugs before jogging outside to the waiting car. Carlisle did the same and walked them to the front door.

"It's going to be a late night at the hospital for both of us, but Maria will have dinner ready at six and you two are free to entertain yourselves however you'd like." Carlisle waved at the driver and gave the boys each one more hug. "Have a good first day of school. I look forward to hearing what you both think of Saint Vincent's."

"Bye Carlisle!" Jasper headed down the steps and disappeared into the back of the black Lincoln Town Car. Edward stared down at the concrete, trying to find the words to say to his uncle. When none came to him, he slumped his shoulders and trudged down the stairs, joining his brother in the back of the luxury sedan.

"Mrs. Cullen instructed me to stop at the 7-Eleven for you. Is that correct?" The driver looked at the boys in the rearview mirror. He was an older gentleman, probably in his late 40s, and he seemed friendly enough, but his blue eyes were dark, as if he was hiding something. Edward shuddered and cleared his throat.

"Skip the 7-Eleven. I'm not feeling hungry anymore."

"Very well. We should be at Saint Vincent's in about ten minutes." The driver pulled away from the curb and glanced in the rearview mirror once more. "My name is James Fisher."

Jasper twisted in the seat so he was facing his brother. "Are you alright man? You haven't been yourself since we left Seattle. I know you're upset about Mom and Dad, I am too, but you seem really shaken up."

Edward ran his fingers through his hair and looked out the heavily tinted window. Visions of his parents' lifeless bodies flashed before his eyes. Jasper would never understand what it was like to have to walk into that stuffy room and confirm that both of them were in fact dead. "I just want my life back. I want to live the way I was living before the accident." He let out a long breath and looked over at his brother. "I feel like I've been picked up and transported to this parallel universe where a person's worth is no longer determined by what he does and who he is, but by what private school he attends, what designer labels he wears, and how thick his wallet is. You may be okay with all of this," he gestured around him with his hands, "but I'm not. This is not me."

"I never said I was comfortable with anything, but I'm certainly grateful. Carlisle and Esme made the conscious choice not to have children, and now they got saddled with not just one, but two teenage boys." Jasper's cheeks flushed with frustration. "They're sacrificing a lot for us, Edward, even if it's only for a year. I'm upset about the accident too, but we owe it to them to have a bit of gratitude and make this as easy a transition as possible on their end too."

James brought the car to a stop just in time. Edward clambered out, slamming the door behind him and walking quickly towards the school. When he looked up, his breath caught in his throat. Saint Vincent's Academy looked more like a sprawling castle than an educational institution. The building was two stories high and speckled with dozens of windows that were framed by bright white trim. 

The red brick was starting to fade in some spots, leaving the school looking weathered and somewhat eerie. The front door was situated under what looked like a medieval tower, standing four stories tall and topped with a large white onion dome.

Edward's nerves were fried just looking at the place and he wasn't even inside yet. He ignored his brother's calls for him to slow down and pulled the heavy door open, finding himself in a main hallway filled with students wearing clothing similar to him. Minus the leather, of course, he thought, laughing to himself. He looked to his right and headed into what appeared to be the main office.

"You must be one of the Cullen brothers." The school secretary greeted him with a stiff smile. Edward nodded, running his hands through his hair again before gripping the edge of the counter.

"I'm Edward. Edward Cullen. I need my schedule."

The secretary reached for a pile on her desk and pulled a navy blue two-pocket folder out from beneath some papers. The school's crest was embossed on the front, and Edward couldn't help but wonder how much of his tuition went towards the production of stupid propaganda like this.

"Everything you need should be in here." The woman pushed the folder out to him and steepled her fingers beneath her chin. "Your class schedule is enclosed, along with a map of the building, a copy of the Saint Vincent code of conduct, attendance policies and procedures, dress code information, and a packet of available extra curricular clubs and activities."

"Thanks," Edward mumbled. He turned around to find his brother standing behind him, winded from trying to catch up. "Good luck, Jazz." Edward pushed around Jasper and back out into the hall. 

He pulled his class schedule from the folder, attempting to memorize part of it so his unfamiliarity wasn't so obvious. Then again, judging by the stares he was already getting, everyone in the school would know all about his new kid status by the end of the day. His eyes fell on his first class of the day: homeroom with Mrs. Cope in room 14. How typical, he thought dryly. Taking a quick glance at the map, Edward rounded a few corners and found himself standing just outside the doorway to room 14.

He took a deep breath, shoved the embarrassing blue folder into his bag, and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair one last time.

It was going to be a long day.

IYoK

Bella thought everyone was present by the time she arrived to homeroom, but Mrs. Cope said they were still waiting on one final student, a new boy who had just moved to town from Seattle.

She chewed on her pen anxiously, picking at her nail polish and wondering just how late this newbie planned on being. In her opinion, homeroom was the most boring waste of time ever invented by someone in the high school arena. Her parents weren't paying close to $40,000 a year for her to sit around and talk about random bullshit for the first half hour of each day, or to wait while some disrespectful clown held up the entire class.

A knock on the door interrupted Bella's thoughts. Mrs. Cope crossed the room quickly and all ten pairs of eyes followed her, eager to see who the new kid was and what he was like. When the classroom door opened, Bella felt her mouth drop and her breath catch in her throat.

He was without a doubt the most attractive guy she'd ever laid eyes on. He was tall and lean, built in an athletic way, but not riddled with muscles like Mike and Emmett. His hair was an unusual shade of brown, and was tousled and sticking out in all directions. He was following the dress code, but just barely, wearing a pair of navy blue Dickies pants with suspenders hanging off the back, black combat boots with the laces undone, and a white button-down shirt. His shirt was open just enough at the top to reveal the outline of a white wife beater and several sprigs of chest hair. He had on a leather jacket with various pins and patches affixed to the front and sleeves. He took a few steps toward Mrs. Cope, thrusting a green sheet of paper at her and looking around for a seat.

"Edward Cullen, welcome to Saint Vincent's. In the future I trust that you'll be more punctual when it comes to arriving in the morning." Mrs. Cope signed the slip of paper and handed it back to him. "Why don't you take a seat in back next to Bella and we can begin."

Bella felt like every nerve in her body was set on fire when he looked at her. Jade green eyes stared at her, penetrating every fiber of her being right down to the her very core. He continued to stare at her for a moment before hanging his head and walking toward his seat. He dropped his bag on the floor, peeled off his coat, and sat down in the uncomfortable wooden chair. Bella turned to look at him again, noticing that his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his strong, tanned forearms.

Don't keep staring, she scolded herself, tearing her eyes away from him and focusing instead on a text from Alice.

She no longer wondered what the something big that had been causing her to worry all morning was.

The answer was located mere inches away in the seat next to her.

IYoK

Edward couldn't figure out what was going on with his body. Sure, he'd been anxious before knocking on the classroom door, but once he laid eyes on his brunette neighbor, every wall he'd erected since leaving Seattle crashed down around his feet, turning the anxious feeling into one of complete terror.

Not wanting to look like a socially inept idiot, he made his way to his assigned seat, shrugging off his jacket and dropping it on the floor with his book bag. He slid into the chair and looked over at the beautiful girl beside him. Her eyes were glued to his forearms, and he could swear he heard her breathing hitch when he'd sat down. He lowered his eyes away from her face and allowed himself to get a good look at the rest of her. She was uniformed, just like the rest of the class, wearing a pair of knee-high white socks, black platform heels, and a plaid mini-skirt that showed the perfect amount of her long, slim legs. She had a white button-down on that was similar to his, with the first three buttons open to reveal a loosely fastened men's necktie. A Chanel bag sat on the floor beside her and her iPhone was perched on her desk.

It didn't take long for Edward to realize that she was one of them. The rich kids, the cool kids, the kids you'd see hanging out at pep rallies and football games and school sponsored carnivals. She probably drove around in a BMW and went on endless shopping trips with daddy's credit card. She was nothing but another pretty face in a crowd of truly ugly people.

Unfortunately for her, Edward just didn't have time for people like that.

IYOK

Bella's smile faltered and her heart sank when Edward looked her over and dismissed her. He didn't need to say anything; the look on his face spoke volumes. He was judging her, that was plain as day, but she couldn't imagine his reasoning. He'd only been in the school for a total of ten minutes, how could he possibly not like her already? Probably the same way you take one look at some of the girls in this school and decide on the spot that they aren't good enough to keep company with you, she told herself. Bella swallowed back the nervous lump that had once again risen to her throat and turned her attention to the front of the classroom. Mrs. Cope was going over classroom expectations and attendance policies, a song and dance that Bella had spent the last twelve years listening to.

While she doodled in the margins of her new notebook, Bella stole several glances at the gorgeous boy sitting next to her. His attention never once left the front of the classroom, breaking her heart a little more. You have a boyfriend, why are you even worrying what some scruffy looking new kid thinks of you? Her mind was trying very hard to reason with her body, but it just wasn't working.

A fresh wave of anxiety-induced nausea swept over Bella, and she jumped out of her chair, sprinting out of the classroom and down the hall to the restroom. As she emptied the contents of her stomach into one of the toilets, Bella knew one thing was certain:

Edward Cullen was going to be a big problem throughout the course of her senior year.

---

A/N: Just a little FYI - this fic is kind of a crossover between Twilight and Gossip Girl. I'm not sure how many of you watch the show (it's one of my faves!), but you might be able to pick up on the intermingling of the two as we move forward.

xoxo