Forget Me Not

Edward and I had just become friends when I noticed a new stalker following me around and in my classes. I mean, she didn't openly show that she was a stalker, like Mike, but it was noticeable. I decided that confronting Edward was the best way to go.

"You mean you haven't noticed?" I asked, wide eyed.

"Well of course I've noticed," he said, giving me a small smirk. "But I've also noticed that you have a rather large entourage as it is, and she's probably the least of your worries. Perhaps you should talk to her." I sighed at the thoughtIwas too much of a coward to confront her.

"Do I have to?" I whined.

"Come now, Amelia's not that bad."

"Amelia?"

"Yes, Amelia Rickets."

"Oh." I thought a little longer about the dread of confronting her. "Do I have to?" I repeated. Edward just raised an eyebrow, and somehow that managed to persuade me. "Fine, I'll do it, but I won't like it." And so it was decided. Tomorrow morning, I would confront Amelia Rickets.

The next time I spotted Amelia was while I headed into Government. Edward grinned and nudged me forward. I scowled back at him, looked forward, took a deep breath, and spoke.

"Hi, Amelia." I said. I cursed myself mentally for how quiet my voice was. Surely she wouldn't be able to hear it. But she did, spinning around so fast that her dark orange hair flailed around her face, looking as if it might rip from its ponytail holder. When she saw it was me, her face morphed into a conservative mask. She gave me a wary smile before she responded.

"How'd you know my name?"

"Oh, I uh, Edward." Was all I could manage to say. She chuckled a bit and her face relaxed.

"He knows everything, doesn't he?"

"I guess it does seem like that. Oh, I'm Bella."

"Nice to meet you Bella. I'm- as you've already learned- Amelia Rickets."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." She nodded. I'll admit that it was nice meeting someone who seemed really genuine, not like some of the other ditzes I'd met. I think my favorite part about her was her not-so-girly appearance. She wore a button down white long-sleeved starch shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow. Her jeans were black and simply jeans instead of designed and bell-bottom, and frilly and all. She wore some simple natural lipstick that wasn't the least bit gawky. This girl clearly was not one to belong to a click. She was unique and I loved it.

"So, are you going to go in or just stand here and get soaked to the bone?" she asked with a small giggle. She was holding the door open for me and I wondered how long she had been doing so.

"Oh, sorry." I murmured as I blushed candy apple red. She chuckled again, a warm, hardy sound.

"It's all right, Bella. Oh, and by the way, call me Amy. Amelia is so formal!" she scoffed. Amy Rickets,one in a million.

That day at lunch I decided it was time to finally get to know Amy. We invited her to join us for lunch at our table.

"So…" I began, "where are you from? You know: where do you live?" Amy kind of rolled her eyes and grunted.

"Where I live and where I'm from are two totally different things!" I raised my eyebrow in utter confusion. "Well you see I'm from La Push." She continued as she shoved a large piece of pizza into her mouth. I almost gasped at the news. What a shock!

"But you don't look like…"

Amy immediately responded as if trying to make amends for such a shocking statement.

"Mo, mo, mo!" she said, forcing down her pizza. "You've got to understand, my mother lives there with the man the remarried to."

"Oh," well that explained a lot, "Well then what's his name? I might know him." Amy just shrugged.

"Eh, I don't know," this time I really did gasp.

"You don't know? How do you not know your step-father's name?"

"Simple," she said, taking a drink of her soda and shrugging, "I don't live with them. I moved out.

"Oh, really? How'd the guy take your whole hating him so much you moved?" she chuckled.

"Really well, actually. He bought me the house I live in now!" She began to crack up.