It was the same nightmare I had last week, the one where I hid in the closet. He always found me, no matter how quiet I was being. I awoke with a start, falling out of my seat and onto a hard, cold floor. I heard the most God awful scream, and instinctively covered my ears to shield myself from the high pitched shriek. It took me a moment to realize the scream was coming from me, and I instantly closed my mouth with a snap. I realized then, to my mortification, that I was still in Biology.

When I looked around the classroom, everyone was staring at me lying on the floor in varying degrees shock. The only sound in the room was my panting. I sat there shaking and silent for a moment, save for my labored breathing, not really knowing what to do. Should I run? Should I ask to be excused? Was there any way possible to get out of this situation with a shred of dignity? I decided the answer to that question was a definite no. So I slowly lifted myself off the floor, and picked up my lab stool, which I had knocked over in my panicked state.

Mike Newton was two lab tables in front of me staring at me, mouth wide opened in shock. Everyone else seemed to be mirroring his pose, and I felt compelled to say something…anything. But I was completely and utterly frozen, standing there grasping my lab stool like it was the only thing keeping me in this room, this school, this entire town. By now, I was quite sure my face was flaming red in embarrassment. All I could do was dart my eyes around the room and take in the stares of my astonished classmates.

Finally, Mr. Banner cleared his throat. I snapped my gaze to his, silently pleading with my eyes; for what, I don’t know. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then snapped it closed again. He did this four times before finally speaking.

“Miss Swan, do you need to be excused?” He asked so quietly I barely made out the words. Not trusting my voice enough to speak, I nodded vehemently and pried my grasp from the lab stool to pick up my bag. Without awaiting any further confirmation of my dismissal, I hurried out of the room with my eyes fixed on the floor.

Once outside, I collapsed on the grass and took deep, steadying breaths, not caring about the light rain that was falling. I sat there for what seemed like hours, replaying the event in my head. Any hope I once had of attempting to remain unnoticed, even despite my earlier episodes, just completely flew out the window.

With a groan, I lifted myself off the ground and made my way to Alice’s Porsche. There was no way I was going to gym today.

I wasn’t sure if Alice had caught wind of the Biology incident, but if she did, she made no mention of it when she got in the car at the end of the day. For that I was grateful. On the way home, she went on and on about this guy in her History class she liked. Jasper was his name. She was dissecting his every glance, deciding he either liked her, or was staring at something she had on her face from lunch.

“I mean, we did have pizza today, and that sauce can get all over if you’re not careful. I should have gone to the bathroom before class! If there was something on my face at lunch, you’d tell me right?” She eyed me nervously from her seat as she babbled on. She gave me no chance to answer, of course. “God! He probably thinks I’m a complete spaz!” she groaned. I rolled my eyes.

“He doesn’t think you’re a spaz, Alice. You’re being ridiculous.” I said in a monotone voice. She did this every day this week, always thinking this guy was either completely in love with her, or completely disgusted by her, and always deciding on the latter. Seeing her skeptical look made me add, “Plus, I saw you after lunch and you looked absolutely perfect.” I lied. I really didn’t pay enough attention at school to take in those kinds of details. She seemed placated somewhat by my comment.

“Okay, maybe you’re right. Still, I hope he’s coming to Emmet’s party tonight. I’m going to make one hundred percent positive I look irresistible. I have this green dress I’ve been dying to wear…” she babbled on, more excited now that she changed the conversation to one of her happier topics; wardrobe. I internally groaned at the thought of going to this party. After my behavior today, there was no way I could achieve my ‘in, chat with Rose, leave’ plan without having any attention drawn to me. Still, I pushed it to the back of my mind, knowing there was no way I’d get Alice off my back.

Once we were home, Alice began clawing through her closet, trying desperately to find the coveted ‘Perfect Green Dress’, while I fixed dinner. Esme was going to be gone tonight, so Alice and I ate alone in the kitchen while she babbled on about accessories. Idly, I wondered how amusing it would be if this Jasper guy didn’t even come to Emmett’s party, but didn’t even dream of mentioning the possibility to Alice.

“So…” Alice said slowly while prodding her food with her fork, “What are… uh... you wearing?” she attempted to ask casually while popping a broccoli spear into her mouth. I knew exactly where this conversation was headed and decided to stop it before it went any farther.

“No.” I said firmly, trying to exude a look of defiance. “I’m wearing what I have on now, and I don’t want to hear anything else about it. Period. You’re lucky I’m even going to this thing in the first place.” I mumbled the last part mostly to myself, but loud enough so she could hear. I could see her really wanting to object, and I internally praised her self control when she didn’t. I knew it took a lot. We ate the rest of the meal in companionable conversation. And by that, I mean Alice talked a lot, and I listened… mostly.

By the time ten-o-clock rolled around, Alice was made up like she was going to a photo shoot for Vogue, rather than a high school house party, and I kept to my word of wearing the same outfit from school. I’d probably be in dire need of the hood, I figured.

We left the house, with her two hundred dollar peep toe heels clicking against the cement driveway, and made our way next door. I didn’t know much about the Cullens, except what Alice told me. Carlisle Cullen was some ‘hunky’ doctor who had two adopted sons, Emmet, and some other guy I’ve never met before. Edmund, or Edward or something. She didn’t say much about him, because Jasper is his best friend, and of course the conversation never went any further than that due to her inability to say Jasper’s name without swooning over him. I had half the mind to find this Jasper guy and beg him for mercy. Would it kill you to just talk to the poor girl?!

I was broken out of my thoughts by the loud music emanating from the large, white house in front of me. Alice was so excited I thought she might have an aneurysm. She went ahead of me up the walkway and disappeared into the doorway that was left open for the guests. Not many people were outside, so I took the moment to give myself an inner pep talk before going in behind her. Hood up, head down. I chanted in my mind. With a long, martyred sigh, I drew up my hood, and walked towards the door.

There seemed to be a fairly heavy crowd, but not quite as bad as I originally feared it would be. I noticed a girl from my Trig class standing in the foyer attached at the lips with some guy I didn’t know. I think her name was Jennifer, or Jessica or something. I decided I was really bad at remembering names. I scooted past the make out session, which appeared to be nearing second base, and made my way deeper in the house to search for Rose. Once I entered the living room, I could hear Emmet’s booming voice telling someone not to ‘hurl’ on the carpet. I turned my gaze toward his voice, figuring Rose would be somewhere nearby, when I heard my name being called by a disappointingly familiar voice.

“BELLA!” Mike was across the room near a corner with a small group of people and waving me over frantically with his arms. I groaned and kept my head down, hoping he would think I couldn’t hear him over the loud rap music being played, and hopefully give up. I was wrong. He started making his way around the people littering the living room, bumping shoulders with some girl and forcing her to spill her drink. Still, he kept coming. Once he was within 10 feet of me, I completely panicked and started looking for an exit. I figured Mike had been drinking and would be even more handsy than usual; a risk I did not want to take. Unfortunately, when I turned around, I noticed a very large group of people blocking the doorway, and knew there was no way I could get past them. I looked to my right and noticed a large staircase leading to the second story of the house that was completely clear of partygoers. Deciding I had no other options that would save me from, yet another horribly embarrassing emotional episode, I darted up the staircase.

I could still hear Mike behind me calling my name, so I kept running, down the hall of the second story. I reached the last door there and attempted to open it, only to find it locked. I then noticed another set of stairs, likely leading to the top floor of the house, so I raced my way up them and kept running until I was met with a wall.

“BELLA! WHERE’D Y’GO” Mike called from the bottom of the stairs. His voice was slurred, verifying my suspicions about his drinking. Panicking again at his quickly approaching voice, I located the only door I could see and tried the handle. Unlocked. I flung the door open, and slammed it as quietly as I could in my alarmed state, and leaned my forehead against it.

I was panting and lightly shaking by now, and I worked to steady my breaths with my eyes closed, while listening intently to see if I could still hear Mike. My shaking hand was still on the knob, so I took a moment to lock the door, and backed away from it slightly.

When I didn’t hear anything on the other side of the door, I let out a deep sigh of relief, and closed my eyes. Just then, someone in the room behind me cleared their throat. I jumped around and hit my back against the door, making a surprised squeaking sound, and instinctively brought my hand up to my mouth. There, sitting Indian style in a large four poster bed was a guy who looked to be around my age. He had the strangest shade of disheveled bronze hair, a very pale complexion, much like mine, and startling green eyes that had very dark circles under them and were severely bloodshot. He looked almost as tired as I felt, but he was very… beautiful? Yes, beautiful. It was one of those moments where I wished I could get closer to someone of the male gender, because he was very good looking, almost inhumanly so.

But he was sitting there looking at me expectantly with his eyebrows raised. I was stunned in silence for a moment before I realized this must be his room, and I was being very intrusive.

“Oh my….I’m s-so sorry… I had n-no idea... I was just t-trying…” I stammered, trying unsuccessfully to explain my presence. I let out a deep breath and shuffled my feet uncomfortably, looking everywhere but in his eyes.

“Oh, no, it’s not a problem, really. I have girls busting into my bedroom to have weird random emotional breakdowns all the time.” He smirked.

Weird Random Emotional Breakdowns? I thought bitterly. You have no idea. I put on my best apologetic face and tried to explain more coherently. My heart was still beating furiously, and I was still slightly shaking from the surprise of finding this stranger here, but I tried my best to explain.

“I was just trying to get away from this guy that was following me, and I ran up the stairs, but the door I tried was locked, so I ran up the stairs more, and he was still coming behind me, so I came in here.” I babbled on in a high pitched voice. I paused, trying to decipher his expression, which appeared to be amused. I took in a deep breath to calm myself and let it out slowly. “Please, excuse me for disturbing you.” I finished sincerely.

I turned to leave without his response, but heard a voice on the other side of the door that made my hand freeze on the door knob.

“BELLA!” I could hear Mike yelling at the hallway. I stood there for a moment, hearing him repeating my name before I turned around slowly to the guy on the bed who was looking at the door with equal amounts of frustration and amusement.

“You’re hiding from Newton.” He said as more of statement then a question. I met his deep, tired green eyes and nodded slowly. He chuckled then. It was a soft, musical sound that temporarily distracted me from the rather awkward situation unfolding before me. I was very uncomfortable being in a strange guy’s bedroom, beautiful or not, but I couldn’t go back out in the hall where Mike was waiting. I decided I could leave and confront a very drunk and forward Mike Newton, or stay here until he leaves, and take my chances with this stranger. Given a choice between the two, I made up my mind.

“Umm...” I started, begging him with my eyes, “Would you mind… if maybe, if I waited here until Mike leaves?” I asked in a whisper, biting on my bottom lip. His green eyes looked at me, then to the door and back to me with a furrowed brow.

After a moment of indecision, he let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, fine.” He said in a defeated tone. “Just don’t fuck with anything,” He warned in a harsh voice. I bobbed my head in a quick nodding motion, while he returned his attention to a sketch book, or journal of some sort on his lap. While his gaze was averted, I took in the large space that was his bedroom. The bed he was sitting on was to my right, about halfway in the room. Across the wall to my left sat a large black leather sofa with a bookcase on the other end. The wall across the room in front of me had large windows and a pair of French doors in the middle that led out to a patio. The room was slightly cluttered, with a few articles of clothing hung over the couch and bed, and textbooks on the floor, but not horribly so.

“So what’s your name?” His velvety voice broke me out of my visual exploration. I turned to see him, his brow furrowed slightly, concentrating on the book in his lap, pencil moving back and forth in a sweeping motion.

“Bella Swan.” I answered quietly. He nodded, but didn’t look up from his lap. I waited for him to give me his name, but he didn’t. “What’s yours?” I asked, fidgeting awkwardly with the sleeves of my hoodie.

“Edward Cullen.” He answered distractedly.

I looked up from my sketchbook to see her fiddling with her sleeves and looking around awkwardly. I took her momentary distraction to really look at her. She had long brown hair, of course, but I already knew that. She had on the same outfit from school today. Her hood was still up, trying to hide her face. But I could actually see it now. She was… attractive I suppose. At least her face was. But I couldn’t really get past her eyes. They had wide, dark circles underneath them, and they looked flat, sad… tired. She looked almost as tired as I felt. Which is not fucking possible. I thought, remembering her nap in Bio this afternoon.

“You can sit down, you know.” I said with raised eyebrows, nodding my head at the sofa. She met my gaze for a moment, and then hesitantly made her way to the wall across from my bed where my couch was located. When she sat, she brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them. I cringed, seeing her dirty, wet shoes on my new leather couch.

“If you’re going to get all fucking fetal on my five thousand dollar couch, at least have the decency to take off your shoes.” I snapped. Her eyes widened for a moment before she shot up off the couch and began rubbing frantically at the spot her shoes were touching.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t even thinking! I’m sorry.” She kept apologizing, while still rubbing the seat. She apologizes way too fucking much. I almost felt guilty for saying anything in the first place.

“It’s fine. Really, don’t worry about it.” I sighed. She stopped her hands and stood up straight, inspecting the couch. Once she seemed satisfied my Italian leather hadn’t been harmed, she sat back down, this time with her feet on the floor.

I returned my attentions back to my sketch for a few minutes. When I looked back up, Bella was still in her spot, but seemed to be inspecting the bookcase beside the couch with interest and… longing? Did she like to read?

“Do you like books?” I asked aloud. Her head snapped towards me and nodded slowly, a light red creeping up her cheeks, embarrassed I had caught her ogling my literature. I mentally chuckled. “You can look if you’d like.” I said pointing at my bookshelf. Her eyes lit up a little, and she stood up slowly and made her way to the bookshelf, eyes roaming the titles. I had acquired a rather extensive collection since I moved here. Carlisle was never apprehensive about buying me books.

Bella’s hand reached out like she wanted to grab one, but she stopped suddenly and turned towards me. “May I?” she asked quietly, pointing to a book. I waved my hand in a gesture that said ‘By all means…’ She took a book from the shelf and opened it, running her hand down the page reverently. Yes, she does like books. I decided.

She moved back to her spot on the couch and began reading. I couldn’t see which book it was, but she looked very much immersed in it, so I returned to sketching.

It was a comfortable silence for a long while, the only sounds coming from the loud party below us, my pencil moving on the paper, and the pages of Bella’s book being turned.

She never looked up from the book she was reading, and I got so caught up in my sketch that I realized almost 2 hours had passed by the time I finished. I looked at her then. She looked peaceful reading the book, and even though it was very large she appeared to already be halfway through it. She also looked so tired.

“You know,” I started, breaking the silence. When she lifted her gaze to mine I continued, “Twenty bucks says Newton is already passed out in a pile of his own vomit.” I smirked.

“Oh.” She said, looking distracted by something, then, “Oh, OH!” she shut the book and stood up. “I’m so sorry! I got so lost in the book, I didn’t realize. I didn’t mean to be so rude, honestly.” She made her way to the bookshelf.

“No, I don’t mind at all, it’s just…” I frowned then, not really knowing why I really didn’t mind, but continued. “It’s just, you look really tired. You should go home and get some sleep.” I said sincerely.

She turned then, after replacing the book to its spot on the shelf, and let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, I should go home and get some sleep.” She said in what sounded like a sarcastic voice. I furrowed my brows and looked at her quizzically. She grimaced and shook her head.

“I don’t really sleep.” She said, and then at the shocked look I’m sure was written all over my face, added “I mean, I try not to sleep. Bad dreams.” She finished lamely.

But now it all made a kind of sense to me. The tired look on her face, the fact she sleeps at school, the nightmare she had in Bio today. She didn’t sleep either. Like me.

“You don’t sleep either? You try to stay awake?” I asked in an astonished voice. Her eyes got wide then, and her face got paler. Then suddenly she furrowed her brow in confusion.

“Either? You don’t sleep?” She asked quietly. I had never really spoken to anyone about my sleeping problems, but figured she was in the same situation. I shook my head slowly, holding her gaze. “Nightmares?” She whispered quietly. I paused for a second, not really liking the term.

“You could call them that...” I answered with tight eyes. She got a look of understanding on her face. So she knew what I meant? We stayed there for a few moments, staring at each other in silent mutual respect for all the bullshit the other had to go through, knowing what had to be accomplished in order to do something as difficult as staying awake. Speaking of which…

“How do you do it? Stay awake?” I asked curiously.

“Coffee, cooking, homework…” she trailed off shrugging. “I try to catch a little here and there at school when I can, because it’s so hard to sleep there.” She paused, and then shook her head. “At least, until today. I’ll probably never be doing that again.” She finished, averting her gaze to my gold carpet.

I felt guilty then, figuring she was referring to her nap in Bio today, in which I just let her sleep through. If her ‘nightmares’ were anything like mine, and I had no way of knowing, she probably woke up in a complete panic. I frowned to myself.

“How do you do it?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

I leaned back against my headboard. “Carlisle’s a doctor. I can score some shit from him sometimes. Uppers, you know?” She looked slightly taken aback by my casual talk of drug use. I shrugged. “Or, I can just sketch and it will keep me awake… concentration and all.” I added, not wanting her to think I was some kind of drug addict. “I mean, coffee?” I scoffed. Seriously? All she had was coffee? How the fuck does she do it. And sleeping at school? I’d never make a mistake like that.

She just shrugged, and then looked towards the door and back to me, seeming hesitant. “Umm… I should probably go. I don’t want Alice to worry about me. But thanks for letting me hide from Mike.” Then one side of her mouth quirked up into a grin.

I nodded and matched her grin with my own. This Bella Swan wasn’t so bad after all. When she made her way to the door, I thought for a moment before making my next remark.

“Hey!” I called. She turned around and gave me a questioning glance. “You know the gazebo out back?” I asked referring to the covered gazebo Carlisle and Esme, Alice’s mom, had built straddling the property lines of the two back yards.

Bella nodded at me, so I continued. “Sometimes at night I like to go out there. The cold helps me stay awake.” I paused then, considering how to phrase what I wanted to ask. “Maybe I’ll see you there some night.” I finished in a casual tone. Bella’s eyes lit up a little at the mention of seeing me again, and she nodded, smiling, before opening the door, and walking out of my room.

I’d be going to the gazebo tomorrow night. The idea of having someone to at least talk to at night was enough to make me go. But I was also very interested in getting to know Bella. It was nice, for once, not to feel alone.

Edward was right. Mike was, in fact, passed out in a pile of his own vomit… lying in the second story bathroom with the door wide opened. There goes twenty bucks. I thought. I looked closer and noticed he had a bloody nose. It looked like he hit it on the sink or something when he passed out. I let a dark chuckle slip through my lips. Quietly, I made my way down the stairs, avoiding the remaining conscious people, and slipped into the foyer.

I walked out of the Cullen house in lifted spirits, and strolled back home breathing the misty air in deeply. The night had ended on a surprisingly good note. Edward was harsh at times, and irritable, but I was interested in knowing more about him. I didn’t necessarily agree with his drug use, but who was I to say anything? I know how hard it is stay awake.

When I got home I noticed Alice was already asleep in her bed, still wearing the green dress. I smiled to myself, hoping she found Jasper tonight, and made my way to my room to change my clothes.

I hesitated at the door with my hand hovering over the knob. Deciding to be brave, and mentally cursing myself for not setting out my night clothes earlier in the day, I opened the door, and raced to my dresser as fast as possible. I plucked out the first thing I felt and bolted out of the room towards the kitchen without looking back.

Panting with anxiety, I got sudden inspiration for a cookie recipe, so I abandoned my clothes on the kitchen table and began whipping up a batch of Bloody Newtons. While I whipped the raspberries and dough, I thought back to Edward Cullen. I’d be going to the gazebo tomorrow night, and I hoped with everything in me, he’d be there.

A/N: A chapter a day keeps the doctor away! Not Daddy C. that is. He’s under contractual obligation to appear in this story.
Ignore my typos, if you’d be so inclined. If you haven’t noticed yet, the name of each chapter is a cookie. I couldn’t resist Bloody Newtons. Show dark Edward some love and leave me a review!