Hey everyone! This is my first fanfiction so hopefully it is good. Thanks for viewing. Just so you don't get confused this story is set a couple of years after Breaking Dawn. Everything has gone back to normal, except the Cullen's have to visit Italy every year or so and show Aro that Nessie is in control. As for the wolves, everything is pretty much the same except Jacob isn't beta anymore (because of his imprinting) and the pack is a little tense towards him. In addition, a couple more wolves have joined the pack. Enjoy, thanks!

Sutton

I bounce my leg anxiously watching the clock from across the classroom. The second-hand seems to move at a leisurely rate, almost taunting me. I take a deep breath and try to reason with myself. I mean, the clock isn't really moving slower; after all I'm just nervous and anxious. I sit at my desk, my legs hanging off of the seat so I can get out of the classroom as fast as possible. I fiddle with my hands under the table everything else is already zipped into my backpack and over my shoulder, ready to go minutes ago. I shift in my seat to look at Mrs. Gregory, my teacher trying to plea with her with my eyes to let me go. This isn't like me, in general I enjoy school. Except for a few boring classes and catty girls and douchey boys it's fun. I like this class a lot; it's one of my favorites. Still I find myself keeping track of every second and minute she holds us after the bell.

"Okay class." Mrs. Gregory says, leaning down to pick up her bag. "Make sure to have your narratives in to me by Monday or less it's late, okay? You can go now." I jump up out of my chair, jostling the desk. I mumble a quick apology to my table partner before I race to the door. I feel someone tap my shoulder and I whip around. "Sutton." I nod my head. "You seem like you would kill to get out of this class," she questions with a worried expression.

I play with my hands, a nervous habit of mine. "Umm… sorry if it seemed that way. I'm just really hungry." I stumble along, lying through my teeth. "I have been since second period." I quickly add in, trying to reassure her.

"Okay…" She responds with a questioning look. "You can go." I give her a quick nod, making sure she won't question me again. I open the door and step into the hallway. The hallways are already deserted, only a few stragglers are roaming the hall. Uncommon for my school, the hallways are always jam packed with students; probably because there are about 1,500 students in my school. My town is small but they jam all the teenagers from the neighboring towns into this one high school. I forcefully let out a sigh, I was so late. Unlike Zander.

Zander is always on time, if not early. He hates when people are late, it messes up his perfect schedule. He truly is a straight-cut perfectionist. His towels are always folded in thirds, his clothes hang in perfect rows, and his bed is always impeccably made, everything has a place. He does not like things to be out-of-place, order is essential for Zander. He needs everything to be perfect, including me.

I run through the halls, my feet pounding the dirty linoleum tiles that cover my school. I weave in and out of hallways, trying to get to the back entrance of my giant school where one of the student parking lots are. A few teachers look up from their work, hearing my footsteps. I ignore their dirty looks, focusing on getting to Zander. By the time I get to the beige double doors I start to pant. I have to lean over and put my hands on my knees. I have never been athletic. When I was younger I tried a couple of sports, never really enjoying any of them. So, I never really committed to a sport. Plus I am way too much of a klutz to be athletic. I take a few deep breaths before straightening back up and throwing the door open.

"Ouch." I hear someone mutter; I move my eyes and see Matt, my science partner. I quickly mumble an apology and start to walk down the steps. He reaches out and places a hand on my arm, I grimace I need to get to Zander. "Hey Sutton." I was just looking for you." He says while I slowly face him.

"Oh." I say blankly.

"I was wondering about the cell project we have to do in science." I quickly nod my head to acknowledge him. "I was wondering what we should do for the visual part of the assignment."

I tap my feet on the ground, impatient. "Maybe a slide show or video, or something. I don't really know." I mumble.

"Yeah. I was thinking..." He continues, clearly not reading my body language.

"I'm sorry Matt, but I really have to go. I'll see you tomorrow." I slur in a rush, cutting him off. I run down the steps, not bothering to wait for a response or look back. I step into the little patch of trees and grass that borders the parking lot. I look up ahead and I see him.

Zander is leaning against the side of his vintage candy apple convertible, a gift from his rich father for his sixteenth birthday. Zander has only had it for two years, but the car itself is old. Still, it always worked without hesitation and looked brand new. Probably because Zander's always fixing it up and cleaning it. He parked his car sideways in the drop off zone, clearly irritable. He's wearing his favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt; it fits snugly across his chest hinting at his muscular build. His semi-curly shoulder length brownish-reddish hair is pushed back a bit by his aviator sunglasses, the ones I had given him last year. One of his arms folds across him and clutches his other arm, which holds a glowing cigarette. His mouth presses taut into an extreme frown and I can only imagine what his angry eyes look like under his tinted sunglasses.

I slowly let out a sigh and adjust my backpack. I can tell this is going to be a bad day. Almost every day for the past two years Zander has picked me up from school to go eat lunch with him. He goes to a prep school on the other side of town and is a two-year senior because of some "administrative problems" as he claims. Our lunch breaks are different and he is always five or ten minutes early, or in his eyes I'm always five to ten minutes late. Some days I ditch the class I have before lunch and just sit outside waiting for him. But I can't skip every day.

Zander has a pattern. One day he's angry at me because I am late, or I don't do something his way. He yells and flips out, clenching his face and twitching in anger. He turns turn into a different person, the monster of someone's bad dreams. Still, some days it gets worse. He sees me talking (in his eyes flirting) with a boy. He calls me names, and says offensive things, terrible things, pushing me down to someone I can't even recognize. Then for the next couple of days he coddles me and is extra sweet and courteous, trying to make up for his earlier behavior. He never acknowledges what he does to me and I never bring it up, not wanting the good days to end. Still, after two and a half years I find myself loving him.

After all, it wasn't Zander's fault. I always do something wrong, something I know that would make him angry at me, but I do it anyway. I truly was asking for it, just like he says. I knew whatever I did would provoke him, but yet I didn't fix it. Plus, Zander's mom left him when he was little, with no explanation. Ever since Zander has had a hard time trusting people.

I jog through the muddy grass, feeling the grass squish underneath my converse, soggy from yesterday's rain. I don't bother to take the long winding path, I don't have time. As I get closer to him and see him up close I start to get really nervous. I can see things I couldn't see from a distance, like how he was furrowing his brows and drumming his fingers on his faded jeans. I can practically feel the anger radiating from him, crashing into me. After all, I'm over twenty minutes late and I talked to a boy. Zander never thinks I'm faithful. He believes I'm always flirting with everyone at school, never staying true to him. But it isn't the case, I'm a shy and quiet person and I don't like talking to strangers. He always argues with me, saying that I don't love him.

I finally make my way over to the old and crumbling parking lot. I live in a small and quiet town. Most of the richer kids go to Zanders' private school. I'm not poor or anything, I just live in one of the lower-income neighborhoods. I always have what I need, just not everything I want. I walk up to him, standing a bit away from his looming stature. I reach out to him, brushing my fingertips across his cheek and moving them down to his jaw. He does not move, and doesn't show any signs of him knowing that I am here.

"I'm sorry, really." I blurt.

"That shirt is too tight. I don't want you on display." He says looking down at my tank top.

"I know Zander. I had a hoodie on, it just got really hot and I took it off. It's in my locker; I can change into it before I go to my next class." I gulp and attempt to reason with him, "I am so sorry." I slowly say, enunciating each word.

He doesn't acknowledge that I said anything and continues, "Why didn't you answer my texts?"

"I was in class Zander. My phone was on silent and I did not notice your texts until I was already here." I explain.

After a stretch of awkward silence he mutters something incoherent. "I saw with that boy." He spits. "I saw you flirting; I always knew you were cheating on me. I always knew you never loved me!"

"I'm not. We weren't flirting. He is just a partner for a project I have to do for school. I promise I am not cheating on you, I love you Zander." I calmly retaliate, getting more distressed by the second.

In one quick movement Zander grabs my forearms and throws me against the side of his car, hitting the passenger's seats window. He presses his arms into me, his fingers digging deep into my arms, pinning me to the car. I gasp in taking a large breath. I blink waiting for something to happen, not sure what it was.

Thoughts were racing around my mind. My emotions were raging, forming themselves into a cocktail of distress, fear, and surprise. Despite his attacks he has never hurt me physically, never hitting me, throwing me, or anything. I wonder why he was doing this to me. I frantically draw a conclusion, between the lateness, conversation with Matt, tight shirt, and unanswered texts; he's mad, really mad.

I snap back to reality and remember my situation. I wiggle my arms, trying to push myself off of the car. He stands in silence and only moves his hands up to my shoulders to more effectively hold me captive. I was frightened of this version of Zander, a more intense version of his past aggressive personalities.

"Zander pl…" I say unable to finish. I look up into his eyes, waiting for a response.

"Why don't you love me?" He quietly murmurs, looking down at me. His voice is pained and his expression even more so. He shuffles his feet and I try to comfort him before he looks back up.

"Of course I love you Zander. I really do, I promise. I love you more than anything. Without you I wouldn't be whole, I would be lost without you. I love you more than anything else. I love you every day, every minute, and every second. You are my life. Don't you believe me?" I coo.

He doesn't answer and keeps his distraught frown. It's late April, and an unusually hot day for Georgia's spring. The hot metal frame of the car is starting to burn me though my tank top. He doesn't respond again and looks up. Zander keeps pushing my shoulders into the car and they were starting to get sore now. He sighs and drops his cigarette on the ground, and snubs it out with his foot.

I try again. "Please." I whisper. "Baby, I can't move, and you are hurting me." I say reasoning with him while looking down at my shoulders. "I am truly sorry. My teacher let us out super late, and even held me after that. The guy I was talking to was an assigned partner, I don't have any choice. We were just talking about this assignment that we have to do; nothing is going on between us. I'm telling you the truth. I love you Z no matter what. Just please let me go."

He doesn't say anything. He hangs his head and looks down at his feet. From what I can see of his face he seems like he is in pain. If I could move I would reach up and touch his face, rub his back, and comfort him. Without any warning he lifts his hand off of my shoulder only to hit me across the face. My mouth hangs open in an O and I take a labored breath. I look down and shake my head before lifting it again. I crouch over and close my eyes, wishing for it to go away. "Stop!" I furiously yell. He bends down and leans in close to my face. I can feel his hot breath twirl across my face and I can hear him pant. I hold my breath before giving up and inhaling. His breath snakes his way up my nose and it smells putrid. It stinks of booze and weed. Zander drinks and smokes pot and sometimes does hookah. Sometimes I would join him, void, and wanting to forget, wanting to be in peace.

Zander does not say anything more and my face stings and I start to truly panic. I shot up and buck myself off of the car, trying to escape. A tear runs down my cheek, not because of the physical pain but because of the betrayal. I feel cheated and deserted. I knew that he yells at me sometimes, but I never thought he would ever hit me. I knew it was my fault, for not doing things right; but I guess he's drunk and stoned and that he isn't really coherent and aware of what he is doing.

My thoughts scramble around in my head, jumping from one place to the next. They overtake my attention and I'm entirely wrapped up in my brain. Everything is spinning, I don't understand, and nothing is right. My emotions and thoughts wrap together to make a tornado that spin around my chaotic head, distorting everything. I know I have to get out, I love him and I can't imagine how he could do this to me.

I snap back to reality. I start kicking my legs out only to have Zander press his legs against mine, stopping me. I won't give up, I forcefully exhale and wiggle my shoulders again and hit him with my hands. I start to sob while Zander grabs my arms and presses them back against the car. In between fits of sobs I cry out, "Stop! Let me go!" He lifts one arm up, leaving me free to swing my arm at him. He curls his hand into a fist so hard his knuckles turn white. He flexes his arm down at his side. His forehead wrinkles and his mouth stretches into a frown. He seems to have an internal struggle, and he stays like that for a while.

But it doesn't last long. In a second he swings his fist up and it collides with my nose and my eye. He pulls his hand back and leaves it at his side. His hand is twitching from side to side. My nose throbs and the bone by my eyebrow is sore. I cry louder. I look up and search the campus for anyone but it's deserted, everyone's gone for lunch. I sigh and crunch over as much as I can and hang my head. The familiar thoughts of doubt and dishonesty start to rack my head.

"LET GO OF ME NOW!" I scream as loud and as forcefully as I can manage. I kick him as hard as I can in the shins. It doesn't affect him much; I can't do much more than brush him the way he's restraining me. I throw slurred phrases at him. I beg him, plead with him, threaten him, and comfort him. Nothing works. I let out a scream in frustration. I look back up at his face only to see his fist lunge at me and hit my cheekbone. I cry out, a knee jerk reaction. My face twists in pain, but his face never changes.

I whimper and softly cry, "Please just let me go Z. You are hurting me, please." I beg.

"Don't say that!" He growls. "This is for your own good. You need to learn." He drunkenly slurs. He rams his fist into my eye and I can feel it swell.

"HELP!" I scream. "SOMEONE, ANYONE! JUST PLEASE HELP ME!"

I get an idea. I sigh in relief knowing I can escape. "Mrs. Gregory?" I call out, pretending to look at someone over Z's shoulder. "Please help me!" I shout. Zander whips his head around and let's go of me. I know this was my only chance so I quickly push my knee up into his crotch. I hear Zander grunt and I start to run. I've never been terribly athletic, I am way too clumsy. I try to keep my eyes on the ground so I won't trip and fall but I keep looking behind me, watching Zander run after me. He seems like a wild animal attacking me, not the man I love.

My old converse hit the black top. I try to run as fast as I can, running faster when I see him get closer to me. I can feel the shape of the loose gravel, leaving divots in the bottom of my shoe. I look back around, seeing you almost on top of me. When I turn back around I have just enough time to see my toes land in a pot hole. My ankle rolls and twists while I fall to the ground. My forehead smacks against the ground and my ankle rushes with pain. I push past the pain and start to stand back up again. I move myself into a crouch before he grabs me.

I feel large hands grab at my waist. Zander's hands scrunch my shirt up a bit and I can feel his sweaty palms. I twist my torso and start to blindly fling my fists at Zander. He just holds me away from him. He starts to pick me up off of the ground. I don't even see him strain. I have always been a tiny pixie. I only stand at five feet and one half of an inch. I have a fast metabolism and I've never weighed over 100 pounds. He keeps lifting me higher into the air until I was looking down at him. I swing my legs back and forth but his grip on me doesn't waver. I ram my foot into his knee, making him stagger. He starts shaking in rage and let's go of me. In the fraction of a second I'm in the air I twist and turn in a struggle. I hit the pavement. I land on my wrist, my elbow coming crashing down at it and I see my wrist bend over and press under my elbow in an apparent unnatural way. Then comes my head. It slams into the pavement and I can feel it scrape against the concrete. I cry out in pain. The rest of me follows, painful but nothing in comparison to my head and arm. I roll over onto my stomach and I sob in pain. I am having trouble breathing in between my loud sobs. I feel a large pair of hands drag my forehead across the pavement. I know the skin tore and it stings badly. Zander flips me back over and I can see a little trail of blood running down my face, mixing with my tears. I keep trying to scream but I can't stop crying long enough to force a scream out of my throat.

He keeps hitting me and kicking me now too. I can feel his knuckles hitting my jaw, nose, cheek, eyes, collar bones, arms, legs, everywhere. I feel him jab his foot into my ribs and my hip bone. I feel as if I've been here for hours, but I know I can't have been here more than thirty minutes. I eventually stop pleading and screaming, too exhausted to continue. I lie there motionless looking up the sky, blocking out sound. I stay still while blood runs down my face. I am too tired to sob and silent tears rack through my chest. Some minutes I start hyperventilating and others I trap the breath in my chest, making me shake.

Black starts creeping up around my eyes and a blurry sheen covers my eyes. Through the haze I can see Zander stop just as quickly as he had begun. He stops hitting and kicking me and starts to look me over. I stop breathing and he mutters, "Fuck," before he walks back to his car and drives of. The black starts to take over and the view of the sunny sky starts to disappear. I close my eyes, wanting to forget, and wanting to be numb.

Hello! Thanks for reading my first chapter. I worked really hard on this for a month and I would sincerely appreciate any review you give me, positive or negative. I know this chapter was pretty intense but, I needed to show how much this affected Sutton. I would like to dedicate this chapter to Aspen, my best friend and faithful editor and inspiration. Pretty pretty please review, follow, and favorite. Feel free to PM me, I promise I don't bite ;)Thank you! -Aven