They're Not Listening Anyway

Seven weeks earlier

Bella Swan's name was not a lost irony on her. The first book her mother bought her was The Ugly Duckling, and it was still in her possession, a dusty old thing; she traced the gold lettering as she placed it on her bookshelf in her new bedroom.

Well, her new-old bedroom. The bedroom of her youth was now the bedroom of her upper adolescence, being seventeen-almost-eighteen, thank you very much. She picked up a few more paperbacks, girly stories by Sarah Dessen and mysteries by Ian Fleming and classics by Dickens and Austen. Her iPod brought her the sounds of Charlotte Church – she was a strange girl, she knew she was.

Satisfied, she turned to her bed, the purple down comforter Charlie, her father, had shoved in her direction earlier that evening waiting to be put in place. She almost got to it before the tears came, but she couldn't help it, opera always made her feel melancholy, and she missed her mother, and wanted her cactus plant that she wasn't allowed to take on the plane.

Sniffling pathetically, she chided herself. She needed fresh air, and Forks, Washington had plenty of it. She padded downstairs in her long, comfy tie-dyed socks (a survivor of the seventies, straight from her mother's hippie days) and was almost to the porch door when she saw Charlie standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking uncomfortable.

"Dad?" she questioned, wondering why he was staring at a jar of Alfredo, a box of penne noodles, and raw chicken breast like it was about to implode.

"Bella!" he said, startled. She must have really spooked him, or embarrassed him, because even a small town cop wouldn't start so easily. "Uh, hi honey. Hungry?"

No, she thought. "Sure," she said. "What's for dinner?"

He shuffled uncomfortably, and suddenly, Bella understood. Charlie was used to fending for himself – she shuddered to think how many pizzas he had eaten – and was trying to make her a homecoming meal. Feeling a wave of affection, she smiled.

"How does some chicken Alfredo sound?" she asked him. "I was just about to run out for some fresh air, but I'll come back in and cook in a second..." She put her hand to the knob just as she heard a honk outside.

Charlie grinned at her under his mustache. "Dinner sounds great, Bella. Let's go outside. There's a little surprise waiting for you out there."

Smiling curiously at her handsome father, she opened the door and stood out on the porch, squinting into the twilight and light drizzle.

"Hello there!" a gruff voice called, intertwined with a light accent, all ancient forest and oak.

Bella smiled shyly in response and looked over her shoulder at her dad. "Who's that?"

"Billy Black!" Charlie called, both an answer and a greeting. "If you were any slower, you'd be moving backwards, old man."

"Don't patronize me, Chief. I wouldn't want to have to embarrass you in front of your beautiful daughter, here."

Bella flushed; she hated when her parents' friends, or any adult, called her beautiful. It was a more of a compliment to her parents than to her, and it felt fake and forced, kind of like when she was sick and her mother smoothed her hair back and told her she looked fine, just fine.

She was not beautiful, and she was not fine. But that was her own secret.

"It's good to see you again, sir," Bella said, as Billy came closer to her, rolling in a wheelchair she didn't remember.

"It must not be, if I look old enough for a sir," Billy grimaced playfully. "Jake, don't be a stranger. Come say hi to Bella."

A boy with dark skin and glossy hair moved forward, tripping over his feet. She couldn't make him out until he fell into the line of yellow porch light.

"Oh!" she said, recognizing the boy who used to throw mud at her down by the river as they waited for their fathers to fish out dinner. "Jacob!" She sprinted down the porch steps and was hugging him before she could think of what she was doing.

He stiffened in surprise, then laughed, a beautiful sound, like bells in a cathedral. "Hi, Bella. It's good to see you again."

She drew back, laughing at her enthusiasm. "Sorry, it's just... I forgot I had a friend here. It's nice. Are you going to Forks High, too?"

He shook his head. "No, I go to school on the Reservation."

Bella bit her lip. "Damn."

Jacob brightened at her curse word, like he had just found a new partner in crime. "But you will be riding to school in style." He patted the rusty truck next to him, something she had ignored until now.

"What? Dad?" She turned around to see her father stick a check into Billy's hand. "It's mine, really?"

Charlie smiled. "Uh huh."

She gave Jacob another hug, which made the adults laugh this time, too.

XxXxX

Bella had been more excited about having a vehicle of her very own than the actual 1950's piece of armor her father had bought her. But when she climbed in the next morning, her stomach shredded into anxious little pieces, she found she loved it. The radio worked, though she could only pick up a country and a gospel station, and the heater was lovely against her chilled, wet skin. She drove to school with a small smile on her face, trying not to think of the loud noise the engine was making. She hated drawing attention to herself.

That, of course, was always what happened. When she parked that morning, surrounded by her classmates, the truck backfired like a 12-gauge in an abandoned field.

She got out, ignoring the stares. She threw her backpack around her shoulder and ducked her head. She heard trilling laughter and looked up as a girl with a shock of dark hair, twisted and held with clips in the shape of British flags, smiled kindly at her. She was standing next to a tall boy with amber hair, wearing linen pants and flip flops – flip-flops, in this weather!

Bella was smiling at the pair of them so much she didn't see the pole in front of her face, and didn't recognize the pain until she was on the ground and heard people laughing. Tears sprung to her eyes, humiliation and the throbbing of a nose smashed against her face. She put her hand to it and saw blood.

"Come on, you're okay," said a sweet voice in her ear. A soft hand pushed back hair from her face and helped her up.

It was the girl who had smiled at her from across the parking lot. She was even prettier up close; she reminded Bella of a flapper girl of the twenties, all short hair and lanky limbs. Her lipstick was red, matching the red of the British flag in her clips and the red of her pointy boots. Her hand was soft against Bella's fingers.

"I think I broke my nose," Bella said, holding her hand under her nostrils to stem the blood flow.

The girl took Bella's hand away and gave her nose a good tweak.

"Ow!" Bella cried, snatching her face away from the girl's fingers. "That hurts like hell."

"It's not broken," the girl told her seriously. "My dad's a doctor; I've seen my share of broken noses. It'll probably be pretty bruised, though."

Bella groaned. "This is just perfect."

The girl patted Bella sympathetically. "Come on, I'll show you to the nearest bathroom. I'm Alice, by the way." She turned around and signaled to someone, the blonde boy Bella assumed, and then steered Bella inside.

"I'm Bella," she responded, but it sounded all muffled, like she had steel wool in the back of her throat. "I'm also the most accident prone person you'll ever meet. You'll probably have to pull me from death-by-speeding-car, or something."

Alice laughed, and it was like music. She opened the door to their right, and led Bella into the bathroom. A tall girl with dark hair was washing her hands at the sink, and turned when they came in.

"Oh! Are you all right?" she asked, going for the paper towel dispenser immediately, seeing Bella's bloody face.

"She ran into the pole outside," Alice said sympathetically. "They really should move that thing; it's so in the way."

"Oh, definitely," the tall girl said, coming forward with wadded up brown paper towels that had been run under the water. "It's such a hazard. You should complain."

The pole was nowhere near the entrance to the school, and Bella knew the girls were just being kind. She smiled.

"I'll be fine. If there's a pole to hit, a hole to step in, or a crack in the sidewalk to trip over, I'll find it." Bella held out her hand for the damp towels, and then pressed them to her nose.

The tall girl smiled back. "I'm Angela."

"Bella," she responded behind the wads of paper towels. "It's my first day here, and of course I'd make a grand entrance."

"Oh! You're Chief Swan's daughter. It's really nice to meet you. What's your first class?"

"Um…" Bella stuttered. "I don't know. I haven't made it to the office yet."

Alice laughed. "I'll take you, Bella. Clean up your face, and we'll go. Thanks for helping, Angela."

Angela smiled at Alice, and then at Bella. "I hope I have you in a class, Bella."

As it happened, Bella had English first period, and when she walked into the classroom, Angela waved happily from a seat by the window.

"Your face looks much better," Angela told her as Bella sat down, her backpack slamming to the floor. "What mascara do you use? Your eyelashes are so long."

Bella, who was not used to getting questions about her less-than-remarkable appearance, stared for a second before answering. "I don't wear makeup."

"No way," said a girl behind her shoulder. Bella turned, and a short girl with curly dark hair was staring at Bella's eyes. "No makeup? At all? Your eyelashes are, like, a foot long. No lie."

"It's pretty easy to tell," said a blonde girl with a simpering smile and a honeyed voice. "Her skin is so bland. Aren't you supposed to be from Arizona? Did you repel sun, or something?"

"I'm albino," Bella deadpanned, and Angela giggled.

The blonde girl's eyes widened, and Bella could just imagine the things people were going to be saying about her by the end of the day.

"Your skin is a bit plain," said the curly haired girl, "but your eyes are nice. I'm Jessica. You're Isabella, right?"

"Bella," she answered automatically, unsure of whether to be insulted or not.

The next three classes on Bella's schedule went much the same; the blonde girl whose name was Lauren sneered at her every chance she got, Jessica was sweet but perhaps too stupid to realize when she was being mean, Angela was a godsend, and Alice was in her fourth period, along with a boy named Mike.

"He keeps staring at you," Alice giggled on a whisper.

Bella groaned. "What did I do to earn such commitment?"

"You snarked at Lauren Mallory, who every girl is afraid of and yet, wants her to like them. You bonked your nose against a pole and made fun of yourself, and you're really very interesting to look at, Bella."

Bella rolled her eyes. "You should have seen me in Phoenix. I was barely looked at, at all. It must be the fact that I'm the new girl in a town the population of sixty."

Alice laughed behind her fingers. "This is huge for me. My family and I are from Alaska."

"Really?"

Alice nodded. "I want you to meet them. Sit with us at lunch?"

Bella groaned. "I promised Jessica I'd sit with them."

"Tomorrow, then?"

"Yes, tomorrow."

Jessica attached to Bella's arm on the way to the cafeteria, bouncing up and down and talking a mile a minute. Bella was very good at appearing she was listening when she wasn't, so she just nodded and gave mmm-hmm's when appropriate.

"Bella!" Mike called when they arrived in the lunch room. "Here, I saved you a seat."

She looked to Angela, who crossed her eyes in Bella's direction, making her giggle.

"Ah, I promised Angela I'd sit next to her, to uh, compare lists of books we've read already, for English…" Bella fumbled.

"You said you've already read To Kill A Mockingbird, right?" Angela said helpfully, patting the empty plastic chair next to her.

Bella and Angela talked halfway through lunch, giggling at Mike's obvious stares and sharing rolled-eyes over Jessica's asinine comments. Bella had just opened her mouth to ask Angela if she had gym seventh period when a loud crash and a very angry male voice stopped all activity in the cafeteria.

"I said no, Alice, and that's final!"

Bella looked over to the direction of the noise; she saw a tray still vibrating on the floor from the fall, and a tall figure leaning over the table, hands on the surface, body leaning towards her savior, Alice. If someone looked at Bella this way, she would cry for eight days straight, but Alice looked at the boy, unruffled.

Alice's blonde boyfriend went to rise to his feet in her defense, but Alice put a hand on his arm. Alice said something in a low voice to the indignant tall figure, which caused him to snarl loudly, and whip around.

The boy was beautiful in his anger, all golds and auburns, like autumn. His eyes were the color of the moss that grew only on the north sides of trees, and he was tall and thin, all angles and sharp fluidity. It didn't make sense that features like that should make someone so lovely, especially with his nostrils flared and his jaw tight – the bulges in his jaw line were intimidating – but he was lovely, and she wanted to take out her notebook and write him all over the pages.

The boy stalked in her direction, and she stiffened. Angela put a hand on her arm, and Bella was thankful, because as he ghosted towards the exit, he shot such a hateful glare in her direction that she could have burst into flames.

She looked over to Alice, who was giving her such a mournful look she almost felt more for her than for herself.

I'm so sorry, Alice mouthed, and Bella nodded with a small smile. She liked Alice, no matter what had just happened.

"Oh goodness," said Angela quietly, wincing after the door slammed shut.

The cafeteria went into a buzz, and an administrator started after the beautiful, scowling boy. People craned their necks to see what was happening, but all Bella could do was duck her head to hide the bright red flush creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks.

"Who… was that?" Bella whispered to Angela.

"That was Edward Cullen," Angela answered. "Alice's brother. I've never seen him act like that… he's aloof, but always polite. Just like the rest of their family. Alice is the only outgoing one, but even she's distant, to an extent. I've never… oh my goodness."

"What did you do to piss Edward Cullen off so much?" Lauren called down the table. "Rumor has it, he loves all women… you must repel even man whores, Bella."

"If my brother is a whore, then what does that make you?" said a musical, infuriated voice behind Bella. "The village bicycle?"

"The village doorknob," Bella answered without thinking. "Everyone gives it a turn."

The table erupted in laughter, and Lauren's face reminded her of Bosch's paintings of Hell. She felt a small hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Alice's smiling face.

"Come with me, Bella?"

"Okay," she said, earning more stares from her classmates. Alice took Bella's hand, and they both waved goodbye to Angela.

"I just wanted to apologize for my brother's behavior," Alice said as they walked down the empty halls. "He's a very passionate sort of person… usually, he's good at controlling it, but he was very angry at me. Any animosity he shot towards you was all my fault."

"Why did he look at me like he'd rather me be dead?" Bella asked as they reached her locker. She had Biology next, so she took out her textbook and fiddled with her notebook.

"I… really can't tell you that, Bella." Alice looked at her apologetically. "But I promise I wasn't saying anything bad; all good, actually. He just…" She shrugged. "Well, anyway. I'll walk you to your next class."

The bell rang then, and they fell into step next to each other as people filed out of the lunchroom and into the locker hall.

"Will you still sit with us tomorrow?" Alice pleaded as she stopped in front of a classroom. "Edward will behave, I promise."

"Um," said Bella. "Sure."

Alice left her with a smile, so Bella went into the classroom and almost walked right back out.

Sitting at one of the black lab tables was Edward Cullen.