Pickup Truck by MaryElizabeth23

Pickup Truck by MaryElizabeth23
A Teambella23 Fic: Freckled, sunburned, and scraped, our lives are lived barefoot and sandy, rolling under the baking sun and surfing the salty water—young, wild, and brave. Volkswagens, bonfires, and "You call that a pickup truck?" We were born into this, but we won't be like them. We're invincible. We're seventeen. We're smarter than that. What's the worst that can happen?


Pickup Truck is so my kind of fic. Teenagers running a muck, doing stupid things, saying stupid things, hurting each other's feelings, making out in a pickup truck. Oh, and they live on the beach, so there's lots of this happening . . . You're welcome!


I love everything about this fic--writing style, fresh, new characters, changing up older faves (James is a Bella's BFF and a girl, Edward has gray eyes, Bella's a blonde, Charlie, a board shop owner and pothead). Everything, everything, everything is great. Even the plot! I know!

Bella and Edward are best friends. She's never seen him that way. Sure, he's cute and has always been her "fixer," but that's it. She even has an off again, on again boyfriend (Reminington, who I imagine looks like this . . . again, you're welcome). But one drunken birthday night and a accidental flash of boob gets hormones running where they haven't before, and the pair of opposite sex besties end up naked in a . . . pickup truck.

Excerpt from Chapter 1

Then there's the moon, and the stars, and the waves … I'm so drunk.

I lift the hood to my hoodie over my head, tighten the strings tight, and look over at Edward, smiling.

"Nothing but teeth," he says.

I notice he's taken his shirt off. "Nothing but chest!" I laugh. Then I look down at myself: sweater, swimsuit bottoms, flip flops. "Wait," I say. "Are we going swimming?"

He shrugs.

I pull my hoodie off over my head and let it drop to the sand. Only too little too late, I notice that with my sweater went most of my top. My entire left breast is exposed.

I look over at Smirks with wide eyes.

He kisses me.

Somehow we end up in the front seat of my vehicle—foggy windows, elbows and knees, seat belt lodged in my back—the whole stereotypical deal. Thank God for bench seats.

He's smirking again, and it's so pretty, so I show him both of my boobs. He's a boy, so he loves them. We're laughing, and we're touching, and we're so fucking drunk that nothing else matters, not even the consequences.
They play it cool; they're best friends, and accidents happen, right? Of course they do. But what about the worst kind of accident between teenagers--conception. Bella is plagued with thoughts of what the hell she's going to do. What are her options? Does she tell Edward? Does she tell Remington? What does she do with a baby? Now, I've read bad Bella's pregnant fics, and this is not one of them. This fic gets to the heart of things--the struggle a woman goes through when she's pregnant and it wasn't planned. But it's not a heavy storytelling. Maryelizabeth23 does an amazing job of not making judgments and at the same time keeping these deep topics lighthearted through the wit and naive thought process of a kid--a kid that doesn't know anything.

Excerpt from Chapter 5

"I have the results, Bella."

It's like a shot to the heart, literally—I'm pretty sure my heart stops beating. Dying would be much easier than destroying the lives of everyone around me with another positive result. At least if I croak now, I'll be remembered as that cool surfer chick and not the seventeen-year-old teen mom.

I'll go out with a little bit of pride intact.

It would suck because I'd be dead … but my life might be ending, anyway.

Dr. V pushes away from the counter and holds the paper with my result in both hands. "Like I told you before, Bella, you've already taken three—"

I interrupt her. "Can you just tell me what it says, please?"

As it turns out, my heart never stopped beating. Nope. It's very much working, pounding from the inside of my fucking throat.

My lungs on the other hand…

"It's positive, Bela with one L."

Dr. V's crack at a joke wasn't very funny. And I really wish I was one of those people who fainted every time they heard life-altering news. It would be so cool to just check out right now. It would be even better if I woke up with James and Dr. V above me again, only to have Dr. V tell me she was kidding.

"Just kidding," she would say. "You're not pregnant. Your boobs are growing because you're awesome, and you've missed a period because God has decided you're too cool for the agony of a menstrual cycle. I called him," she would say. "I have God on speed dial."

But none of that happens. Dr. V just moves on to the next set of questions. This time they involve every single detail of my life since I last had sex.

I answer them as best I can: "No, I've only had one partner in the last four months. Yeah, he has a girlfriend. No, I don't know if they have sex, but … you know. Yes, I'm sure. One. I've only been with one person. Edward. His name is Edward."

After the rapid-fire questioning is over, Dr. V leans against the wall and sighs. "Going by the information you've given me, Bella, I'd say you're between six and eight weeks pregnant. You're estimated due date is late January. Probably around the twenty-eighth."

I hide my face in my hands. "This isn't happening."
I love this Bella (I imagine she looks like this--a bit edgy but still beautiful.). I love her friends, her family, Edward aka Smirks, her stupid job and Swedish fish, and her skateboarding. I love everything. The only thing I don't love is that it's not finished, but that will happen. I trust this author. She's amazing. Sadly, she does take stories down on occasion, so I've only been able to read two of her multi-chaptered fics. The other is one of my faves, too. I reviewed True Love Way forever ago, and the author pulled it before many of you could read it, but now it's back up. Yay! So go read that one, too.

I promise you will not regret reading Pickup Truck. You will also not regret looking up "Surfer Boys" on WeHeartIt. For serious. I could spend all day on that tag. Yum!

One Day by RueforRegret

One Day by RueforRegret
Over a quarter of a century separates single-mother Bella Swan from her hormone-riddled adolescence. Watching her teenaged daughter navigate her way through various rites of passage, Bella can't help falling prey to nostalgia. "One Day" brims with steamy reminiscences of first love and traces one woman's mid-life attempt to reclaim it. ExB, AH, mild angst, M-Rated 18 & over.

Remember the last time you stayed up until 3:30 am reading an amazing fic? You don't? Such a shame. I do. It was just the other day when Spanglemaker9 rec'd this WIP on Twitter. I read the summary and was sucked in, and I'm so glad. It's the best thing I've read in ages. It's as good as Starry Eyed Inside and On a Limb and has a similar feel. And Like those stories, this one makes you feel ALL THE THINGS. 

Fortysomething-year-old divorcee Bella's daughter is growing up, and she's feeling old, which means it's time to reminisce. So she does. She pops open a box filled with relics from her first relationship, her first love. And thus we are introduced to fifteen-year-old Bella and seventeen-year-old Edward. We get to see their story play out intertwined with present Bella's life. We also get to see present Bella's commentary in her first love and her actions, which is quite comical. Here's a snippet of their first date-ish encounter. 

Excerpt from Chapter 3

"You're not the talkative type, huh?" he observed.

"I guess not." I tucked my hair over my ear and gave him a quick sideways glance.

"I think I make you nervous. You know, because you don't really know me. Never talk to strangers, right? Your mom told you that?"

"Maybe."

My cocky persona was falling flat on her face. Edward was seeing right through me. What had I gotten myself into?

"Well, maybe you should ask me some questions. Get to know me. Then I won't be a stranger. Good idea?"

This was a great idea, but the questions forming in my mind were all ridiculous.

How come you're so hot? Is it uncomfortable for guys wearing jeans that tight? Can we make out so I can actually kiss a guy before Alice does?

"Um, okay," I said, dismissing these absurd questions from my mind, afraid one of them might actually pop out of my mouth. Getting-to-know-you questions. Surely I could pull something together. "Well, how old are you?"

Perfect. This was perfect.

"Seventeen," he said, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he worked in the piece of gum.

Seventeen? Holy cow!

"How long have you been seventeen? I mean, are you almost eighteen?"

"June. I turned seventeen in June, so, no, I'm not almost eighteen at all. How about you? How old are you?"

I briefly considered lying, but the answer slipped out before my filter could kick in. "Fifteen."

"Fifteen. Huh." Edward pondered. He nodded and squinted at me out of the corner of his eye. "How long have you been fifteen?"

"Eleven months and one week."

"Well, there you go, then. Almost sixteen, right?"

"September thirteenth," I confirmed, a shy smile creeping to the surface. "Three weeks."

"You look really sweet when you smile like that. I like it."

Bella's daughter, Carlie, spots her swooning over memories and an old photo of Edward. She encourages her mother to contact him, even looks him up on LinkedIn. And of course he looks good. 

Excerpt from Chapter 11 

I cross my arms and frown. She's got me there. I watch her type, click the mouse, wait, then type some more. I feel incompetent. I have no idea what she's doing.

"Last name?" Carlie says, her eyes flashing up to mine.

"What do you mean?"

"The Edward guy. What was his last name?"

Reluctantly, I move around the dining room table and perch on a chair beside her. "Cullen. His name was Edward Cullen."

Her fingers fly across the keyboard and then she's staring at the screen, waiting. Within five seconds, the screen fills with images and Carlie clicks on something and then angles the laptop towards me.

My heart comes loose of its moorings and crashes around in my chest cavity because just like that, his face is right in front of me—Edward, a shot of him from the waist up dominating a quarter of the screen space. Twenty-eight years have passed, years which have brought creases to his eyes, lines to his forehead, and a touch of gray to the hair at his temples—but at least he still has hair at his temples.

I wonder how quickly I'd be able to move on from this moment if forty-something-year-old Edward were fat and bald. It's a moot point because he's not. Frankly, he looks incredible—ruggedly handsome, whiskery and tanned, his green eyes as devilish as ever. His arms are crossed. I glance at his left hand. He's not wearing a ring.

I'm doomed.

"Is that him?" Carlie says.

I nod. "Yes." My voice escapes as a breathy whisper. "Yes, that's him."

Carlie's phone pings in the other room and she leaps up to retrieve it. "He's pretty hot for an old guy, Mom," she calls back to me over his shoulder.

"He is, isn't he?" I say, more to myself than to her.

Bella reluctantly and excitedly looks him up, and the pair reconnect. YAY!

I can't say enough about this fic. I'm sure you're as drawn in by the writing as I am. RueforRegret has a handle on language. She also has a handle on finding the appropriate voice for each age. And she is funny. Bella's hilarious at any age here, and even though there's drama in her life, it's done so subtly that it doesn't overshadow the story or spin it in a dark direction. It is written much like life. It just is what it is. This story is fantastic. If you skip it, I feel sad for you because it's that good. Go read it. But start early because you won't be able to stop. And leave her lots of love because this gem is very under appreciated. But not by me!

Now and Then by Troublefollows1017

Now and Then Right now, she can't remember. He can't forget or let go. Then, she fell in love fast and hard. So did he. Can the heart remember what the mind has forgotten? Edward can only hope.

Now and Then is Twilight meets The Vow, only better. Much, much better. And I love The Vow. For serious, yo. 

Bella Swan is a big time singing star. She's on tour when Edward Cullen begins as her opening act. They connect from day one, and their relationship grows in secret, using Rose, Bella's sister, as Edward's fake girlfriend to hold off suspicions. Bella's mother is controlling and overprotective.  She's also Bella's manager and seems to think she can speak for Bella. All the time. Even when it comes to relationships. With Edward's help, Bella becomes more confident and more bold and makes moves to sever ties with her mother and to be happy, to have what she wants--an open relationship with Edward. 

But then . . . the fates cut some strings like the bitches they are, and Bella's in an accident. Wiping out her memories. Of Edward. *cries*

Will Edward help her remember him? Will he be able to get her to listen and believe him while her mother is telling her lies? Will he able to stay away from her like she's asked him to? Hell to no. This is why we like him. Right, ladies? 

This Edward. This Edward. 

First of all you, have to know some things. This story is brilliant told in alternating time periods. Now and Then. You know, like the title. ;) The Now is told from Edward's POV--and sigh he is swoony all in love with Bella and trying to win her back and do what's best for her. It's heartbreaking the ache he feels. Ugh. And the Then is told in Bella's POV, so we get to see just how in love with him she fell and how serious she was about him. It's refreshing and so smart, and, as I writer, I'm in awe of this. 

Now, back to Edward. Edward is a rocker. With tatts. But he is the sweetest. He is cocky but in a cute way, not a dirty controlling way. Again, refreshing. He pushes Bella to get what she wants and speak her mind. I love this about him. Love. 

Try not to swoon . . .

Excerpt from chapter 4

"So, that's my idea," Alec says, looking to my mom and then to me. "I'll get in contact with Brian and we can get on a soundstage during that break you have between the show in New York and the one in Las Vegas."

"We love Brian," Mom says before sipping from her water glass.

"He's great. I've checked and he's available."

"Perfect."

Edward leans forward, elbows on the table and stares at me. "What do you think, Bella?"

All eyes go from me to him and back to me. I think I hate the thought of yet another video where I lay in flower petals or wear ridiculous outfits that make me look like a teenager. I think it would be nice if we thought outside the box. I think doing something that embraces who I really am would be cool.

"She loves it," Mom answers for me.

"Do you love it, Bella?" Edward raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer from my lips. The lips he kissed silly all night long. The lips I don't know how to open right now.

"Oh, Sweet Cheeks." Rosalie laughs and pulls him back in his seat. "My sister is a go with the flow kind of person. She hates to make waves," she explains in an attempt to clue him in. We don't fight with Mom or the record company when they love something.

"Isabella understands how the business works." Alec smiles at Edward as if he's some know-nothing.

"I'm well aware of how the business works." Edward won't be stopped. And his ability to fight for me makes me want to fight for myself. "I also want to hear what Bella thinks. She is allowed to think, isn't she?"

"I'm pretty sure we've covered that she loves it," Mom snaps. She does not like to say things twice. "If she didn't love it, she would have said so." He's not winning her over. In fact, Mom will be pushing Rosalie to dump him as soon as this lunch is over.

"Do you, Bella? Do you love it?" His green eyes pierce my skin, see inside my head. He knows the only thing I love about what's being said here is what's coming out of his mouth. I love that mouth, too.

"It sucks." I can't believe I say it. But I do and I want to smile and throw up. I'm not sure which will happen first.

"Isabella!" My mother is appalled. Rose's mouth falls open in shock before curling into an amused smile.

Alec is completely confused. "What do you mean it sucks?"

"I hate the whole idea. I don't like any of it. And Brian creeps me out. He made some comments to me the last time we worked together that made me really uncomfortable. I'd rather not work with him again."

The smile on Edward's face lets me know he's proud of me. "She doesn't love it, Alec," he says, throwing an arm behind Rosalie.Bella does what she wants but is terrified of her mother. I liked seeing her grow and change with Edward's help. And it's fascinating to see her "Then" moments and how she is the same person just begging to come to the surface. 

It's a great story with great characters and great dialogue. I loved what Troublefollows did with canon here with both Twilight and The Vow, giving us some plot bits from The Vow and some themes from twilight. This is true fanfiction. Troublefollows does a great job of capturing the reader's attention and doesn't let go one bit through the ride. 

You'll love it. Read it. 

Medium Smut. 
Team Jake Safe. He doesn't exist. 

This. This song. OMG.

Contest Entries Worth Reading

I wasn't following these contests, but these two fics got into my hands somehow--probably when I was trolling Twitter at midnight, trying not to go to sleep. They're both fantastically written and plotted.



High Maintenance » As a young father who's not sure where he belongs, Edward's just trying to get through each day. His daughter is his life and all he thinks he needs. When the girl with the broken oven and busted fire alarm flips his world around, will he invite her into his life? Will she choose to enter? First Place Judges' Choice, First Place Public Vote in the Ho Hey Contest.

This Edward is a handyman. Yeah. Right? And a father. I know. Sigh. You'll love this fic and the swings it takes. They were unexpected. You'll love this sweet tale about a young father learning to act his age while still being responsible for his daughter. Love.

This story was written by Beleiveitotnot, whose work I'm realizing I always, always need to read, and Thimbles, who I just met after reading this fic.

El Camino Summary: He drove a rundown 1973 El Camino, smoked like a chimney - and the few words he spoke were seldom to me. Contest entry for the HEA TwiFic Contest

This fic was brought to my attention on Facebook because a few readers thought I wrote it. I wish I had. It's fantastic. Sorry to disappoint if you wanted it to be me, but I'm excited--like you are if you read it--to find out who wrote it. I want to read their stuff!

This fic has a mysterious, tight-lipped Edward, and I love him. I love everything about him, even the mistakes he makes. This Bella is so real. I always fall for real-to-life fics. These teens make foolish choices, but they're real ones. And as the contest proclaims, there's a happy ending. Yay!

Now go read!

Barefoot in Texas by Planetblue

Barefoot in Texas by Planetblue
I watch her jumping, prancing, her hands empty but taking pictures. Her feet bare on the hot Texas earth. Everything in my life that was planned to a T just whirled away in a ruffled skirt.

The brilliant @Cejsmom rec'd this to me, and I wanted something fluffy and quick and easy. By the summary, I thought that's what I'd get, but I was wrong. It was so much more than that. This fic has character growth and depth and is inspiring. Wait, what? I know. It inspired me to think about my life and what I'm doing and if I'm happy. Awesome, right? 

Edward is a buttoned-up Lawyer-to-be with a pretentious, political family that dictates his every move, including his love life. Bella is a hippie on the move, living out of a purple camper, living off of money she makes at bazaars and making friends in each town she passes through. They meet by chance again and again, and they get to know each other slowly. Yay, for slow! I love slow! 

Edward's inner monologues are as good as his spoken words. Planetblue has a great handle on dude thoughts. This Edward is a man. He thinks everything through and follows his heart, but he's also logical and realistic. Thank you for that, Planetblue. 

Edward and Bella's relationship takes them both by surprise because neither of them do this. Bella doesn't stay in one place, and Edward can't date girls that aren't deemed "appropriate" by his parents. So what do they do? How do they handle their predicament? And better yet, how do they deal with what they've learned from each other? 

A quick, sweet read with substance. You'll love it. 

Team Jacob safe. 
Medium smut level.

An excerpt to get you started . . .

Leaving the dim bar and into the bright sun, I shield my eyes and pause, letting them adjust to the light. Making my way to where I parked my car, I notice a dilapidated purple camper, much like I imagine Woodstock was full of, with a barefoot girl standing on the bumper looking under the hood. I take a moment to appreciate the way the movement of her arms and upper body are making her ass wiggle.

I could walk by, she wasn't the most polite, but she looks to be having an issue, and I'm nothing if not a gentleman.

As I get nearer, a string of profanity reaches me and I find myself smiling.

"Do you need some help?" I say as I peer into the engine next to her.

"This stupid thing won't start again. Lord knows I paid enough for this thing back in Ohio, the guy assured me it'd run for a while." She jumps down off the bumper, her ruffled skirt puffing up and then landing on her thighs, dangerously close to showing me too much, not enough. "If I don't get going I'm going to be late picking up Jasper."

"I can take a look if you want." I know nothing about cars and their machinery.

"Nah, it's ok. I'll walk." She closes the hood and starts heading down the street, her hair, twisted to look like dreadlocks, being pulled into a haphazard ponytail. She turns suddenly. "Walk with me?"

I should offer her a ride, she has no shoes. "I have somewhere to be."

"So do I." She's standing, waiting.

Right. Someone named Jasper she's going to be late for. "You don't have any shoes on." I forget about my car and walk mindlessly towards her.

"Shoes aren't important." She waves her hand in a dismissive gesture.

My eyes widen. "Yes they are!"

"No, they're really not." She looks down, lifting one dirty foot, then the other trying to determine why she should have them on. Looking at them doesn't change her mind, and she shrugs. "Are you coming?"

Inexplicably, I start moving, catching up to her as she turns the corner. She hooks her arm through mine, and I ask her name.

"What's your name?" She's looking up at me, excitement and mischief behind her smile. Her gaze hits me somewhere deep in my chest.

"Edward." I answer. I like the way she's got her left hand clasped with her right, tight around my arm. I also like the way her right breast is rubbing against my elbow.

"Well that's a solid name, isn't it?"

"It's an old family name. And yours is…?" I kind of don't want to know, I like thinking of her as Shutterbug.

"Depends. What's your favorite name?"

I'm confused. "My favorite name? A girl's name? I have no idea."

"Well I mean, everyone has names they like and don't like. Would you ever name your kid Bertha? Hell no! So right there, you know you don't like that name. Oh! You're not married to a Bertha or something are you? I tend to give my opinion without thinking sometimes." She's stopped our gait, looking up at me.

"I'm not married." Relief that I'm able to tell her that, confuses me.

She starts walking again, pulling me with her. "Oh phew, I hate to insult people I don't know."

"But you insult people you do know?" I chuckle and find my hand making it's way to lay on top of hers. We're walking like some 1920's promenade.

"Well I try not to but sometimes people need to hear the hard stuff. You know?"

No, I have no idea, this whole conversation has my head spinning. I'm jarred from my thoughts when she makes an abrupt stop and pulls me over to a street vendor selling what appears to be second hand clothes. The macramé sweaters and tie dyed shirts make the back of my neck itch.

"What do you think of those?" She's pointing at a pretty ratty looking pair of black cowboy boots, more gray with age than anything. "They just scream of life, don't they? I mean, who wore them? Where did they go? You don't get that worn out just walking around on carpet all day! They've lived!" She's gotten herself all worked up about a pair of someone else's hand me down shoes.

To my horror, she prances over and proceeds to put them on her feet. "You're not seriously going to put those on, are you?" I think barefoot on the sidewalk is safer at this point.

"Sure, why not?" The movement of her skirt as she twirls on the sidewalk momentarily distracts me and I realize she's given the vendor a hug and is handing him a five-dollar bill. Entirely too much in my opinion, he should pay her to take them off his hands.

We're on the move again and she's happily looking at her feet as she walks, the boots being maybe a size too big, causing them to make a shuffle plop sound as she steps.

Overpass Chapter 1

Overpass by Purelyamuse
“Sometimes I think all the people I love will eventually leave me. Just disappear.” “Maybe . . . I don’t know . . . maybe we don’t need lots of people. Maybe we just need one. And that’s enough.” BPOV.

Excerpt from Chapter 1 (not beta'd) . . .

“Who’s making wrong moves?” a low voice says behind me. I’m not used to hearing low voices here in the middle of the day, not since all three of Alice’s brothers were lost in a car crash two years ago.

“No one. No one’s making any moves.” She’s using her I’m-pathetic-unless-I-have-a-man voice. It’s getting old, but I play along anyway. That’s what best friends do.

“That’s the problem,” I say, turning slightly to catch the stranger’s eyes. Who the heck is this boy in Alice’s house?

“That’s a blessing. She’s crazy. Imagine her with a boyfriend. Her neurotic self would implode.”

“I agree.”

“You, shut up,” Alice says, pointing between the two of us—me and mystery boy. Whoever he is, he’s cute. Eyes the color of grass and crazy messed up hair—a burnt red, the shade of leaves turned in the fall.

“I’m not shutting up,” he says. “Besides, looks like you’ve got a lesbian lover right here. You don’t need a man.”

“See, Alice, I’ve been telling you for years. Let’s just kiss and see if we’re gay. Then all of this boy nonsense could go away. You never know.”

“I like her,” he blurts with a grin. I like him, too. Whoever he is.

“No, you don’t. You used to yell at us all the time. Especially her. You can’t stand her.” Alice gives her best glare.

“I can’t?”

“No, you can’t.”

I’m so confused. I know this guy?

“Well, who is her?” he asks, staring at me, trying to place my face, I guess. I have no clue who this guy is, but he makes me laugh, and I like how he picks on Alice like her brothers used to. I miss them and their hyper boy energy.

“Who do you think it is?” Alice asks exasperated. Apparently, he should know. And I should know. But neither of us does. But I’m not stupid enough to give myself away.

“I don’t know,” he says, with a mocking tone. “I can’t keep track of all million of your friends.” He leaves my side in favor of the fridge and opens the orange juice, dumping it straight into his mouth. I should be disgusted. Alice is, but there’s something so inherently masculine about that behavior I find attractive.

“Gross, Edward,” she says.

“Edward? Edward Masen, Edward?” My voice is high in my shock. No way.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling around the lip of the orange juice jug and taking another swig.

“Your face cleared up. And you got taller. You look different. Less gangly. And your nose isn’t so big.”

“Aren’t you delightful? Don’t tell me you’re the new best friend and I’ll be spending all my time here in this crap hole with you pointing out my blackheads.”

“I practically live here,” I say. “Get used to it.”

“Well, I do live here. And your boobs shrunk. So there.”

Does he really know who I am?

“I only complimented you,” I say, looking down at my breasts. They grew. Honestly, they did. I just don’t feel comfortable putting them on display like many girls. I wear bigger shirts. Mens’ shirts. It’s the style anyway. Sort of. Some girls do it. A massive Billabong shirt is awesome. And he’s one to talk. He’s wearing one. Blue with a silver swirl around the logo. I want it. Maybe I’ll steal it. I know where he lives, after all. How long’s he staying? And why is he here?

“Backhanded compliments are not compliments,” he instructs.

“Fine. I meant to say you’re cuter than you were the last time I saw you.”

He sets down the jug on the counter, looking me square in the eye. “Which was when . . .”

“I saw you last. You ready, Alice? That movie starts soon.”

“Yeah, let me grab my bag.” Alice exits the kitchen, leaving us staring at each other.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” I ask.

“Not a clue. Should I?”

“Yes, Edward. You should.” We fought over the tire swing at their grandmother’s house by the lake every summer until I was twelve. I’m not sure how old he was then.

In the Debris by Believitornot

In the debris by BelieveItOrNot

A story of unlikely friends, a story of family, a search for truth and a search of self. "She's everyone else's Isabella, but she's only my Bella." "I write a poem about a boy and girl who fall in love in the eye of a tornado." AH E/B V/J

I love this story. No, you don't understand. I looooove it. Every word, every chapter, every character, every scene. Love. Love. Love.

In the Debris follows two separate characters: Edward and Victoria. Their voices are very different as are their lives. In fact, when reading each POV, you feel as if you're reading two separate stories, yet they collide. Sometimes I loved it, and sometimes I hated it. But only because I wanted to keep reading one person's story.

Edward's mother has passed away. Shortly after her death, his father, Carlisle (a big,fat jerk!), married his mistress. His family life is not good. Edward realized with his mother's passing that his own life was out of control, that he wasn't being the man she wanted him to be, so he changed. Over the summer he avoided his friends, his usual activities and became a recluse, except for hanging out with his brother, Max, who's thirteen (and freaking adorable). I think Max should be voted best original character, in my opinion, but no one listens to me.

Once Edward's in school he realizes quickly that his friends are not too happy with his transformation, but he doesn't care. He mostly ignores them and does his own thing, though he does listen to the ramblings from his classmates about new move-in Isabella Swan.

Enter Isabella. Isabella is a natural remedies, artsy, photographing, fun-loving, family girl. And she knows things about Edward. At least, she's heard things. But those things, while true, are not true anymore. And thank you to BeleiveItOrNot for not making us suffer through his awful past and allowing us to basque in his new sweet, genuine self. That was so, so refreshing.

Meet Isabella . . .

A glance to my left has me doing a double-take. There, sitting on a boulder under the bridge, with her nose in a book, is Isabella. Even from here I can tell it's no textbook she's reading. It's a novel. Curious about what it is, I head over there, wiping my wet hands off on my jeans. She doesn't notice me approaching over the rocks, she's so absorbed.

She jumps when I ask what she's reading and shoots me the most worried look, as if she's been caught breaking the law. I wonder for a second if she has a joint hidden in those pages.

The look on her face turns into a reluctant sort of acceptance. Maybe it's just me she's disappointed in seeing. She flashes the cover of her book at me.

"That isn't for school."

"No, they're reading Moby Dick. Read it last year."

"So, how are you finding Raskolnikov?" I ask in a mock voice of sophistication.

Her eyes widen and it's not my imagination when their color lightens. "You've read it?"

"Don't hide your shock or anything."

One hand covers her eyes, while the other one appears to involuntarily hold her place in the book. I notice she's not wearing her bracelets, and also that she's dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt that looks big enough for a man. "Of course you've read it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She spreads two fingers that are covering her eyes and peeks through. It's cute and I try not to smile. "I mean, what student at Forks High hasn't?"

"I guess I get your shock. It's probably the same reason I came over here when I saw you reading."

"Because I'm reading?"

"By choice, it looks like. Why here?"

"I live right up there." She points up the hill to the brick house, next door to Mrs. Makenna's. "I like it under this bridge. I can stay out here even if it rains."

In the sky only three white clouds are in sight; we'll be rain-free for a while.

"Wait. What I'm doing here makes total sense. Why are you here? Don't you live in some forest-hidden mansion?"

"What else have you heard about me?" I squat down beside her so she doesn't have to squint to look at me.

"Sounds like your dad might be Dr. Frankenstein or Dr. Jekyll. Somebody told me your roof gets struck by lightning once a year."

I laugh at that.

"But I've also been told that I have to go to one of your parties. Nobody throws parties like you do."

I shrug. She'll be waiting a long time if she's expecting me to throw a party.

"So, why are you here?"

"I mow your neighbor's lawn."

Now she's the one who laughs. "You what? You, the richest guy in Forks, mows lawns?"

"That's cool," I say, not laughing. I don't bother telling her why I do it. I look out at the creek. It's a narrow one, and pretty still. It barely makes a sound at all; it's maybe the sound of a dog taking a piss or something.
"Don't pretend to be insulted. I may not know you, know you, but I already know you better than that."

"You think you know me. Enjoy your book, Isabella. Tell Rodya hello for me." I head back up toward the street.

"Hey," she says, "If I really did hurt your feelings, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

I nod, leave her wondering.

I am pissed, not so much by what she said, but by allowing myself to think for a minute that she might be different. But no, she makes assumptions about who I am based on my family's money just like everyone else.

At the top of the hill, I glance back at her, under the bridge, rifling through her bag. She did apologize, though, and that's something that would never cross the minds of most of the others in this town.

I still can't get a read on her. I shake my head, no reason to care so much.

I start to my car when I hear her call my name. I look back and she shouts for me to come on over for a drink the next time I mow the old widow's lawn. "We'll talk some more about Dostoevsky… or whatever!"

"Hot and cold," I say.

"What?" she shouts.

"You're hot and cold," I say, louder.

She throws her arms out at her side, camera in hand, and shrugs. Then her camera's in front of her face, she's bending slightly forward, and I know she's taking my picture.

She's nuts.

"I'm thirsty, now," I shout at her.

"Come on, then." She slips her camera into her bag and gives a big motion to me with her arm. I start back down the hill, checking my watch. There's still time before I have to get Max.

"What will the caption say under that picture?" I ask, following her through weeds toward her house.

"I don't know yet." She brings a finger to her mouth in thought. I think she might be as confused about me as I am about her.

"Why do you mow her lawn?" We're walking through the garden, up brick patio steps and through the back slider into the kitchen. I wipe dirt off my feet before entering.

"If I don't, she will."

It's a small enough kitchen that it would've driven my mother crazy, but in real perspective it's probably average size, bigger than the one in the pool house, anyway.

"It's nice that you do that for her. I think I might've been wrong about you." She drapes her bag over the back of a chair. The bag sags heavily, seams tearing on the straps. How many cameras does she have in there?

"Maybe." I don't tell her that she's not the only one who's suspected being wrong about me lately.

She pulls a lemon off the top of a basket of fruit and starts slicing it. When she fills my glass of water she slips a slice on top. "It's to rejuvenate you. Try it."

Edward is fantastically honest in this fic, and while it takes he and Isabella a while to get to know each other, once they do, they don't play games. And they are awesome together. As Edward says, Bella is awesome. Those are his words. For real. 

She carries his guilt for him, gives him celery to stop his tears, lavender to make wishes, and hugs because he doesn't have them. Yeah. Awesome.

This is awesome, too.

"You called him 'Sir.'" She starts laughing harder and at my expense. I stop laughing.

"I've never had to address a girlfriend's dad before."

With hands on my shoulders, she brings her lips to mine. "It was perfect."

As we kiss, I stand up so I can wrap my arms around her, feel her closer.

"What if he comes back?" I ask against her throat.

Her body kind of shivers, I think because of my mouth and breath brushing her skin. "Then you'll probably have to leave."

Her hand is sneaking under my shirt to my abdomen. "I love this bit of hair on your stomach." She tickles me there.

"Bella." I smile.

"What? You like?" She does it again.

I nod. "I like."

She tilts her head to the side. "Say my name against my neck."

I bring my mouth to the skin she's offering me. "Which name?"

"It doesn't matter." A quiver runs through the words.

"Bella, Isabella," I whisper. She's melting against me. I hold her up. "It's really good to know about this neck weakness. Really good."

"Mmm." It isn't much more than a sigh.

This is pretty much the sexiest thing I've ever experienced fully dressed or not, and I'm doing it to her. My hips want to push into hers and they will. They will. But not yet.

"Have I told you that I think you're beautiful?" I ask. "Because I do. You're really beautiful."

"Your eyes are closed," she says, her voice losing strength as she speaks. Even though my mouth is still on her neck and I couldn't see her even if my eyes were open, I play with her.

"I've memorized your face."

"You're beautiful, too," she whispers.

"Your eyes are closed."

"No, they aren't."

I lift my head and what I see makes me laugh. They are closed.

Our mouths meet again.

I know you think that's enough awesome, but wait there's more! Have you forgotten about Victoria? She is a poet, a free thinker, and lover of deep thoughts and fantasy. She sees everything differently, she loves, and she fears. 

James is her best friend and has been for a long time. He earned that place. See . . .

I remember the first poem I wrote about James. It was the night we decided to become friends.

It was a sporadically rainy, wind-blown and leafy Halloween. We were in seventh grade, and I had just entered the beginning of my years of ridicule, the beginning of seeing Lauren for the person she really is. I must not have quite believed it yet, when she invited me to her party, telling me to wear a pretty costume.

"You're so pretty," she said over the phone. "Make sure you play that up."

My aunt went shopping with me and helped me pick out a fairy costume. I had blue wings that sparkled and I added matching sparkles to my face. I wore a layered iridescent pixie skirt and silver shoes. My hair curled over my shoulders, and I did feel pretty.

But at the party, I was the only one there in a costume. People stared, they pointed, they laughed into their hands. I wanted to run out; maybe I should have. I searched for Lauren. I would ask her why she didn't tell me the costume part of the party had been cancelled. When I found her in the kitchen, I got my answer.

"Why, Victoria! I was sure you'd come dressed as a clown. You wouldn't even need a wig." Her smile and voice were honey and moonbeams, while her words were lightning strikes, and her laughter was the cackle of a witch.

More laughter brewed around me as I headed toward the door. Words that cut left the mouths of many; I covered my ears.

Out front, I sat on the porch, the tulle of my dress scratching at my legs through my tights. My head fell into my hands. I had no idea where to go or what to do - too mortified to call my aunt already, who'd just dropped me off.

"I like your costume," said a boy from behind me. His voice sounded newly deepened, like he was just trying it on for size, but it didn't quite fit.

"Really funny." I wiped at my tears. "Ha, ha. Have a good laugh."

"Who cares if you're the only one in a costume? It's Halloween."

"James," I said, looking up at him. I knew him, of course, though we'd never had one class together. "This is a stupid party."

"Lame." He nodded. "Why are we here?"

"I'm waiting for my aunt to come back. I can't call her and tell her I was the joke of the party."

He sat beside me, our legs touching. He was so skinny back then, scrawny. "Know who I think is the joke of the party? Lauren."

Trick-r-treating kids were running toward us, up the path to Lauren's house. I got up and started walking home. Nine blocks wasn't too far, I tried to tell myself, though I was already shivering. I could feel James beside me.

Rain started in again, small slow drops for now. Leaves ahead of us stopped crunching under our feet and started squishing instead.

Crossing Sycamore Street, I said, "I don't think I have any friends anymore." I picked up a wet leaf and twirled it back and forth in my fingers. It sagged and I let it go, wet and dropping heavily to the ground. I made up a poem in my head about heavy leaves. Heavy as rocks. You could throw them at someone and they would cause injuries. The wind called me a liar when it blew hard enough to rattle the wet leaves, so unlike rocks. I liked my poem anyway and would write it down when I got home.

On Maple Drive, as we passed more screaming kids in costumes, James said he would be my friend.

"But you're a boy."

He stopped and I turned back. "Does that make me diseased?"

"No." I smiled.

The rain had stopped. With the next rush of wind at my face and leaves at my feet, I thought that maybe James was making fun of me. Maybe this was all part of the joke.

"Prove we're friends, Boy."

"How?"

I pulled my wings off, my shoulders happy to be free of the cutting elastic straps. "Wear these."

He put them on, laughing, and wore them all the way to my house. He even pulled me by my wrist to trick-r-treat at a few homes. Then, with three pieces of candy fisted in my palm, I knew I could trust him. He wore the wings just to cheer me up, and didn't care when the people answering doors laughed at him. The wings bobbed on his back and I made up another poem about boy fairies, glittery-winged creatures with rockstar hair. They lived inside tree branches, and these boy fairies were the reason why rock-solid leaves crunched under feet. If it wasn't for these fairies, leaves would hurt us all when they fell from trees like boulders. They would damage cars.

James and I wouldn't see each other much at school. We had different lunch hours - I sat alone, feeling eyes aimed at the new town crack baby. I wrote poems at my table, in my poetry book that locked. Never would I share my poetry with anyone.

At the lunch table, hunched over my book, I wrote a poem about a boy and girl of the night. They were only alive then. In the day they were dead, black-lipped corpses, but in the dark, all the colors of the world were in them.

James and I were nighttime friends long before we became daytime or all-the-time friends. For now, at thirteen, the night, cold and damp and soggy-leafed, was our time.

She loves James, but she does't know what to do about that. Because they are nothing more than best friends.

Enter Edward. Wait? What? Just listen. Edward is different now, and Victoria's always been different because of her strung out mother. (She lives with her aunt and uncle and doesn't know where her drugged out mom is.) She doesn't have anyone to talk to, and Edward offers an ear. They become friends. And I promise that's it. Sort of, but it's fine. I promise!

Edward helps Victoria sort out her feelings. Victoria becomes friends with Bella and helps her sort out her feelings. And James and Edward become friends and sort out something manly and worthy of a good action sequence in a movie. It's all good. 

Victoria's search for her parentage: her mother and unknown father is the basis of her journey. Her friends support her on her way. they protect her and love her fiercely. 

This fic will make you swoon, laugh, cry, want to hurt someone, and sigh from the actual beauty of the writing. Victoria's a poet and Bella'a a photographer, but all I see are BelieveItOrNot's beautiful words. They're more stunning than any photograph or any poem I've ever encountered. Read it. You will not be disappointed. 

Team Jacob safe. 

Medium smut. 

The Butterfly Effect by LyircalKris

The Butterfly Effect by LyircalKris
Edward's fall from grace destroyed not only his life, but the lives of those he loved the most. When he passes out teetering on the edge of total destruction and wakes up 17 again, how many times will he have to repeat the same day to set things right?

While this story is certainly a fantasy--one wherein Edward relives days to fix past mistakes--at its heart, it is a love story. A story of longing and need and desire for the one you can't have. Of course, we're talking Bella here, people. 

Bella is a blip in Edward Cullen's real 29 year old life, but in his second life, she is everything. Once he begins to make a little progress in his do-over, he realizes Bella is a good friend, or could've been. He also discovers that she's perfect for him, but he can't have her. Not yet. Not yet. Nooooooo!

In his second life, Edward, Jasper (his best friend), and Bella develop a camaraderie rare in high schoolers. They are friends and nothing more. They play video games and instant message, and just hang. They keep it simple, but it's not. Not for Edward anyway, because his 29 year old mind is more aware of what's happening or what may happen. 


Edward, Bella, and Jasper have a LAN party. they are big dorks, but I love them. 
A moment with Bella . . .

"Have you two been to bed yet?"

Edward and Bella looked up guiltily as Carlisle stepped into the rec room looking still half-asleep. It was seven in the morning and no, neither of them had closed their eyes yet. Jasper was sprawled in the reclining easy chair, fast asleep since about four that morning.

"I finally got rid of all the viruses on Bella's computer," Edward said at the same time Bella blurted, "I just need one more fire beetle eye."

Carlisle slapped a hand over his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "My son is a bad influence," he said under his breath. He looked over at them again, trying for a stern face but only managing to look amused. "Your eyes are bloodshot. Get some rest before I have to send you back to your father in a zombie state." He chuckled.

As Carlisle ambled off to the kitchen, Edward turned Bella's computer off, rubbing his sore eyes. He peered over her shoulder as she stubbornly plugged on, intent on getting the fire beetle eye she needed to complete her quest.

"Not bad, newbie," Edward complimented, noting that she'd gotten the hang of the game rather quickly. He yawned, staring blearily at the screen. "You're a hot chick," he mumbled. When she turned to stare at him, a little wide eyed, he woke up a bit. "I mean... your character is hot. I mean...not that you aren't. I mean... fuck."

Bella bit her lip, looking like she was trying not to laugh, but she failed miserably. He rolled his eyes as she giggled. "Maybe we should go to bed," she said, her voice husky from sleep.

In his sleep deprived state, Edward took that exactly the wrong way. Her voice was so low it was sexy. She was a pretty girl who was into gaming. A brave, selfless girl with a sharp tongue and thick skin, and her face was really only a few inches from his.

"I mean..." she stumbled, realizing what she'd said. "I mean. We should sleep."

She was blushing. She was so cute when she blushed like that. Even with red, bloodshot eyes she was cute.

"Right," Edward mumbled. "Sleep."

He was afraid to sleep. Alice said he was on vacation, but how long would this vacation last? He didn't want to go to sleep and wake up on a different day.

But his eyelids were leaden.

The couch in the rec room was huge and L shaped. It would have been easy for one of them to move, going to the opposite end of the couch to sleep. Or for Bella to head to the guest room that Edward told her about, his words beginning to slur. Or even for him to head up to his room.

Instead, they both kind of fell in opposite directions. Their feet tangled - completely innocent - in the middle, and they slept.

Edward's guide through this messy life is none other than Alice. Though she's like no Alice you've ever read. She's four and loves Harry potter, she's sixteen and, like, so irritated with him. She's angel and devil, giving him everything and taking it away. She's the most fascinating Alice you'll ever read. And this is one of the most fascinating fics you'll ever read. I am not doing it justice, I know. 

A  moment with Alice . . .

He turned slowly, carefully, in case the girl was trying to play a trick on him. He blew out a long breath of relief seeing she'd put on jeans and a t-shirt. She giggled at him as she plopped on the bed, rubbing a towel over her long, jet black hair. "Sorry about that. I wasn't expecting you just yet. I wasn't ready."

Edward didn't answer right away. Her familiarity with him was throwing him off, but the more he looked at her, the more he realized he knew her. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he got a good look at hers.

One black eye, one amber.

"Alice?"

She grinned at him, shaking her head ruefully. "Took you long enough."

"But...you're all grown up."

She pursed her lips. "More or less."

Cryptic as ever. "I don't understand," he admitted. He turned slightly, looking at himself in a mirror to make sure he hadn't imagined the face there. "If I'm 29 again, how are you... how old are you?"

"Me? I'm timeless. But this body is sixteen if that's what you're asking," Alice said with a twinkle in her eye. "You're always 29 here."

Spotting a chair behind him, Edward sat down heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to make sense of a nonsensical world. He gave a little growl of frustration.

"You see, this is your problem," Alice said cheerfully. He looked up in time to see her bounce lightly on her bed, laying down so that her head was tilted backwards off the edge of the bed toward him, her hair spilling down onto the floor. "Here you are, repeating your high school days over and over and you're looking for some kind of logic to all of it." She rolled over, propping her chin on her hands as she looked at him. "You're kind of a dumb ass, dude."

Edward's lips quirked. "You're a lot more foul mouthed than I remember."

"You of all people should know that some things come with the body you're in. I'm 16! I'm sassy and I think I know everything," she said with a grin.

"How is that different from you at five?" he asked.

She giggled. "Less Harry Potter," she pointed out.

"Harry Potter... Oh!" Edward ruffled his hair ruefully. "Right.. Nargles and Pens Eves and wands."

"Oh, my!" Alice quipped.

This fic has it all: brotherly love (Emmett's hysterical), nerdery, romance, lust, love, need, desperation, sorrow, happiness, and intrigue. It's quite the unique love story. 

Team Jacob safe.
Low smut. 

The Give Away Girl by MrsSpaceCowboy

The Give Away Girl by MrsSpaceCowboy
Honor student Bella Swan has mastered the arts...of manipulating her divorced parents, rolling the perfect joint, and faking an orgasm. Who wouldn't want to keep a girl like her? An unconventional coming of age tale for Gen Xer Bella.
What can I possibly say about this story to do it justice? Probably nothing, but here goes.
This was rec'd to me over and over again when it was a WIP, but we all know I suck at those. They make me angry. But I loooove to read a complete story. Especially if it's ah-may-zing like this one.

This story takes place in the 1990's. Hooray!

Bella is a smart, sarcastic, kick ass girl. I want to be her friend, and she's fictional. So yeah. Edward is new in town and cousins with Bella's best friend, Emmett. Edward is shy, quiet, smart, a baseball player, and he wears glasses. Gulp.

The two meet on the phone and begin their relationship there. How much do I love that? Like a lot. How much time did you spend chatting on the phone with your friends? Hours, I bet. And so do they. They finally meet in person and hit it off immediately.

They become fast friends when school starts, but Edward takes his time with Bella. They really know each other before they make any decisions about their relationship. I love this! I love that MrsSpaceCowboy took the time to build a solid foundation for her characters. All of her characters. And there are many. Thank you! (Charlie kicks ass, by the way.)

The chapters are long. The story is long. But it should be because it takes place over years. And, I assure you, it's fantastic  It's complete with love, romance, sex, heartache, drug use, best friends, good/bad parent moments, mean girls, mean boys, and so much more. This story rings true to life. And there's nothing I love more than a coming of age story I can relate to.

Thank you, MrsSpaceCowboy, for writing this story and sharing it with us. The music was an awesome bonus.

Go read it. You will not be disappointed.

Team Jacob safe if you're open minded.
Medium smut level.
Warning: lots of drugs and alcohol in this story.

Excerpts from Chapter 3:

There is a tall guy dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt, and black Vans. His hands are tucked into his front pockets. The back of his head is shaved close, but his bangs are long and unruly. I let out a breath. I am secretly relieved he isn't some kind of freak. Not that I ever thought he was. Or at least I never thought about it until The Pack made such a big deal about the fact that I've never even seen him. I am so caught up in my inner ramblings, I miss the fact that the others are now standing with me.

"What are we looking at?" Leah whispers from my left.

"Aaaaggh!" I startle and yell.

Emmett's head whips around. He smiles hugely when he spots us. Edward turns to face us fully. His face is decent too, it seems. His cheeks carry the slightest hint of leftover baby fat. He has thin wire rim glasses. They're a little geeky, but mostly they just make him look smart.

Leah links her pinky with mine pulling me forward. I start to freak out a little inside, because I'm not sure if Edward and I will "click" in person the way we do over the phone.

Emmett introduces him to the other girls. He smiles shyly, mumbles a greeting, and then his eyes are on me. "Hey, Bella." His voice, if possible, is even better in person. The sound of it eases my worry.

"Hey," I say, stepping into his personal space. I feel like we've passed the awkward handshake stage. He knows things about me that make him hug worthy. He must sense my intent, because he steps forward and we embrace.

His t-shirt is soft cotton, and I've never smelled anything in the world like this boy. "Nice to meet you," he whispers. Cinnamon breath near my ear mingles with the scent of soap and after shave on his skin.

"My turn," Em says as he pulls me away from Edward.

.......

He's quiet as I direct him to the restaurant. I try to engage him in conversation once or twice, but he gives me one or two word answers and silence. By the time he parks the car, I'm frustrated.

"Is something wrong?" I ask, looking him straight in the eye.

"No!" His eyes are wide as he answers.

"You've barely spoken a word to me all night," I whisper, turning to look out the windshield. My feelings are a little hurt. I've spent hours talking on the phone with this boy, and now that we've met, I get the distinct feeling he doesn't really like me.

"I was nervous. I'm still nervous," he says sincerely.

"You were fine around the others," I counter. He didn't seem shy talking to Alec, Jane, or Mike.

"They're not you."

"But you know me!"

"Exactly," he says. "I don't give a shit what any of them think." He turns in his seat to face me. I do the same. "I do care what you think," he whispers.

I feel a strange fluttering in my chest as I exhale.

"I don't want us to be weird around each other," I tell him earnestly.

"Okay. No weirdness. Got it." He's being playful. But when he grins at me, I notice the tiniest, most adorable, little gap between his two front teeth and how full his red lips are.

Shit.

This is not good. I do not need to be attracted to anyone right now. Especially Edward. He's nice and sweet, and we're friends. Just friends.

"I need a junior bacon cheeseburger now," I tell him. What I really need is a distraction. And some space. Being cooped up in the front seat of this car that smells like Edward is obviously affecting my ability to think clearly. Or it could be the pot. I do get a little horny when I'm stoned and that might explain the sudden interest in Edward Cullen's mouth.

"Let's go," he says, exiting the car.

I grab my bag and do the same. We walk together across the parking lot, and he holds the door for me as we enter the restaurant. I smile at the gesture as he places his hand on the small of my back as we make our way to the counter.

We order three junior bacon cheeseburgers, fries, and two Cokes. He pays despite my protests. Once we've found a table, I watch in horror as he removes the pickles from his burgers.

"How can you eat a burger without pickles?" I ask incredulously, while confiscating the pickles and adding them to my own burger.

He shrugs with his mouth full of burger.

"Crazy," I mutter before biting into my own.

.....

"Thanks for taking me, Edward," I tell him as he parks next to Mike's Suburban.

"You don't have to thank me, Bella. I'm glad we got to spend some time together. Alone, I mean." His cheeks are pink and he's adorable. I need to get the hell out of his car and away from his scent, before I do something stupid.

I open the door as he asks, "Can I call you later? Tonight?"

I shake my head. "I'm spending the night with Alice." He looks disappointed, and I hate it. "I'll be home tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow," he says, smiling.

Oh God. He has dimples.

The Tutor by ItzMegan73

The Tutor by ItzMegan73
New student Bella Swan needs to break out of her shy exterior and her guidance counselor has the answer: tutoring. And Bella is too new to know she shouldn’t want to tutor Edward Cullen.

I rec'd this to Cejsmom the other day and had the urge to re-read it. I was shocked when I checked my blog and discovered I'd never reviewed it. Like, what the frick is my deal? Ugh!

The Tutor is not only a high school fic but a Damagedward fic. This, I love. Know what else I love? How ItzMegan73 gives us a real getting to know you phase. She doesn't rush in. We know these characters. And even though they grow and evolve and change, they are constant. Thank you. Nothing bothers me more than a kickass Edward who turns into a pansy once Bella's in his life. This Edward is consistently a jerk, but he's a sweet jerk at that. How's that for endorsement? I promise you'll still love him.

Edward is failing his junior year. His adopted parents get him a tutor -- his new classmate, Bella. Bella is sweet and kind and innocent, but she's also independent and brave and doesn't take crap form anyone. Edward tries to get under her skin, but he doesn't succeed. It's Bella who gets under his skin. He's drawn to her. She's different, and she doesn't care or judge the fact that he's a junior and can barely read -- a secret he's kept from all of his friends.

During the course of their tutoring sessions, Edward learns that Bella needs some tutoring of her own. She's never been kissed. And the UST has arrived. Yay! This fic has it all: humor, angst, drama, romance, sex, KISSING!, mean girls, best friends, good parents (thank you!), and a fantastically matched Edward and Bella.

This fic is written in third person which I really enjoy.
Team Jacob safe.
Low-medium smut.

There are so many great scenes I wanted to share, but I decided to go with this one. It's sort of the beginning of it all. enjoy!



From Chapter 7:

"Well this is a first – the tutor falls asleep." Edward said as he took a seat across from Bella.

"I'm not asleep," She popped up quickly. Without looking at him, she started throwing books and papers around. "Here. We need to start on section three."

When there was no response to her words, Bella looked over to see Edward staring at her, as if he could see right through her.

"I got a speeding ticket," Bella blurted out. "I wasn't even speeding!"

It was Edward's first inclination to answer with a disinterested 'so?', but, instead he looked out the open window and snorted, "In that dinosaur?"

"I know," Bella agreed. "What the hell is that?"

Edward hadn't expected her acceptance of the ridicule of her truck.

"Sucks to be you," Edward sniffed as he leaned back on the hind legs of his chair.

"Tell me about it," Bella mumbled. "My dad is going to kill me."

Edward frowned at the fact that Bella thought he was making conversation with her. He wasn't. He obviously was putting out the wrong vibe if she thought he was interested in what she was saying. And she was still talking! Edward was just about to interrupt when she said something of interest:

"I know my dad is going to make me take the Washington State driving test. Just to prove a point. Now I'll have to study that thing in addition to all this crap," she gestured towards the books on the table.

"Driving test?" Edward sat up straight in his chair. "I have to take that, too."

"You do? Why? Don't you have your license?" Bella inquired.

Edward shook his head. "I'm getting it. I didn't have grades for driver's ed last year so I have to do it this year."

"I didn't know you could take Driver's Ed as a junior."

"I'm not taking it through the school."

"Oh."

"I, uh, haven't seen the book they use. Have you?"

"I think you can download it from the Internet."

An awkward silence loomed over them as they each tried to figure out the next thing to say to one another. Bella was amazed at the manner in which Edward was speaking – such a lack of hostility. And Edward was trying to figure out how he could work the driver's education angle to his advantage…without Bella knowing his deficiency, of course.

"I'd much rather study that than this," he pointed to the table.

"I don't make the rules." Bella shrugged.

"But you'd benefit, too, if we did that instead."

"I'm not so sure, " Bella narrowed her eyes at him. "I haven't been able to get you to complete one single worksheet since we've been working at this…almost three weeks now. What's it going to look like if we start working on something completely unrelated? Mr. Leary is keeping track of how well we do, you know."

"Mr. Leary's a queer."

Bella looked at Edward humorlessly. And there he is. I was beginning to think this was a fake Edward sitting in front of me.

"I'll match you, section for section." Edward finally stated.

Bella looked at him in shock. "You're actually bargaining with me, with your own grades? That doesn't make any sense."

"You said yourself that Mr. Leary is keeping track of how we do, which means that you have something to gain from this, too. What is it?"

"A recommendation for my college applications." Bella disclosed.

"Fine, so you get your recommendation and I get to study driver's ed, in addition to wasting my life away with the most boring subject on earth."

Suddenly it all became clear to Bella and she grinned. "You need help with Driver's Ed!"

"Why waste time doing one subject when I can do two?" Edward asked.

"You need help. Admit it. Admit it and I'll do it."

"No."

"Fine. English only, then."

"And no college recommendation."

"I'll just tell them that you were disinterested and uncooperative. Miss Teale and the rest of your grades will back me up."

Edward was silent. "You're a –"

Bella gasped as she anticipated the word Edward was going to use to describe her.

"-stubborn person," he completed.

"So are you," she said when she realized what he'd said.

"Section for section and you get your college recommendation. That's the deal."

"Section for section, I get my college recommendation and you admit that you need my help. That's the deal." Bella countered.

"Nope."

"Fine. And I think our time is up for the day. Are we done here?"

Edward didn't answer her with words. Instead, he simply got up and walked out of the den, leaving Bella alone to pack up her things and let herself out.

......

Just after her first class, Bella had gone to her locker as usual to get her history book. As soon as she'd administered the correct combination on the lock and opened it up, a small, crumpled piece of paper fell at her feet. When she picked it up and read it, a warm feeling washed over her entire body. For there on that paper, was her victory:

I ned yur hellp