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Chapter 1

22 September 2011

I don't think anyone at this school hates Gym more than I do. Gym is embarrassing, undignified, and the kind of forced physical labour I really feel I should be compensated for.

Plus, you have to change your clothes in front of people. Honestly, it's a little barbaric at this point.

I fumble with my towel, clamping it under my chin while I get my jeans on. Grabbing my bra, I resist the urge to look over my shoulder. Rosalie and her cohorts are a few lockers down, walking around in their underwear. I need them to not be looking at me.

Holding my breath, I drop the towel and strap my boobs in.

Behind me, Jessica and Lauren are regaling Rosalie with a dramatic retelling of how Edward apparently stared at her ass in gym. When they first started talking about it, I was so shocked I actually listened to every word, but it's been ten minutes and they're still babbling, so who even cares any more?

"I can't believe him, though," Jessica sighs. "Isn't there like a guy-code against checking out your best friend's girlfriend?"

Rosalie scoffs. "They're guys. Bro-code or not, he's still going to look at it."

I roll my eyes and start yanking a brush through my hair.

"Are you going to tell Emmett?"

Rosalie makes a sound of contemplation. "Probably not. Maybe if he does it again, but…"

"He'd probably beat Edward up or something," Lauren says, the urge for it clear in her voice. "I could nurse him back to health. Time for your sponge-bath, Edward."

Urge to gag rising.

I throw my stuff together as they laugh. I can't listen to any more of this. It's only a reminder that I go to school with morons.

As I make my way to my next class, I see him farther down the hall, laughing with Emmett as they turn the corner. I probably won't tell him what they said. Would he want to know? He doesn't worry about stuff like that, people talking about him or whatever. Not like I do. And if he were anything like me, he wouldn't feel better for knowing anyway.

Best not to say anything.

I wonder what he'd do if the situation were reversed.

Fuck, what if it already is?

Has he ever heard anyone talking about me? Has he wondered if he should tell me? Or have the things he's heard been so awful he didn't even consider it?

By the time I get to my locker, I have heartburn.

He's left me a text about Coach extending basketball practice by half an hour. I tell him that's fine; I'll have time to finish my paper for physics before meeting him.

I wish I could take more physics instead of Gym. Far less ass-staring in physics. Far less sweat, too.

As I weave through the crowded hall, no one looks at me. That's the only thing about crowds I can stand. I'm like a blind spot. In fact, my superhero name would probably be Blind-Spot Girl. Attention just bounces off me.

I still have a few minutes until my next class, and the sun is shining weakly. A Forkie born and bred, it's a rarity I'm socially obligated to honour by going outside. I follow the stream of students heading out the doors, and then break off, skimming the side of the building as I head for the corner. My sweater snags on the bricks every now and then.

The rest of the student body create a low droning hum of voices. There are a few picnic tables out front where they like to gather, but I prefer the south side, where the teachers lounge overlooks the teachers parking lot, making it a teacher hot-spot and the most avoided place in all of Forks High. Because teachers, amirite?

I sit down on the old bench against the wall and pull out a comic book. The sun is barely warming, and I can see the clouds ganging up. It's almost October; this might be the last time this year we get weather you could describe as 'nice.' I turn my face upwards and close my eyes.

I won't tell him what I heard. It won't do any good. And it's just harmless locker room gossip, anyway.

In fact, if I just sit here, very still, and concentrate really hard, I'll probably forget I heard it at all.

So, hi. Haven't done this in a while.

Embarrassingly, this is a story I've been working on for almost three years now. Never say I'm a quick writer, because you would be hilariously inaccurate.

However, I'm happy to say I've pretty much finished it now, so I decided I might as well start posting before I chicken out. I'll probably update once or twice a week, aaannd... yeah, I hope you guys enjoy.

Kim and Meg are my favourite people, and I'd be worthless without them.

Thanks for reading.