YAY!!! My first story!!

Crisis

I was writing in the library. Snuggled in between the pages of my history textbook was my diary. I sneaked a few glances at the boy – probably the newcomer everybody's been talking about – opposite me. God, was he gorgeous. He had luscious bronze hair, beautiful green eyes and his lips...mm, yummy. I tore my eyes from his face and turned back to my diary. I was scribbling furiously, words pouring from my pen when my cell phone rang.

I swore. My face turned crimson as everybody turned around and shushed me. I pounced at my bag, Mariah Carey's "Hero" blaring from it. I dug around my bag with my hand for my cell phone. Damn...Where in the world is it? By the time I felt my fingers wrap around it, the librarian was glaring angrily at me, which I responded with an apologetic smile (as if that will help). I grabbed it and dove under the table, clutching it to my ear.

"Hello?" I whispered through clenched teeth.

"Hello, Bella?" A hoarse voice croaked. The voice was familiar, but I couldn't quite figure out who it was. (Ewwo, Bewwa?)

"Who is this?"

"It's me, Megan. I'm sick." (Izz bee, Began. Ahbm seek.)

"Huh?"

"I'm sick!" I held the phone further from my ear to keep myself from going deaf. (Ahbm seek!)

"Oh." I wasn't sure where this was going.

"I can't play," Megan sighed. "I can't play for you tonight." So that's why. (Ay can't pway for yoo doonigh.)

"W-Wait. You can't!" I stammered. "You can't do this to me. I need you. I–"

"I'm sorry, Bella. There's really nothing I can do. I'm really, really sorry..." The phone clicked off. (Ahbm surree, Bewwa. Ders vrilly nofing Ay can doo. Ahbm vrilly, vrilly suree…)

I stared at it for some time, my brain unable to process that information. I did the only this I knew how to do–I panicked. My fingers loosened around my cell phone and it dropped to the floor with a crack. I started to cry, big, heaving sobs escaping my throat. Just as I thought it couldn't get any worse, I reached up and felt moisture on my face. How could I be so weak? Then, it hit me–I was crying, for God's sake, under a table, in a room full of people!

I looked up, snot and all, and saw everybody staring. It was humiliating. I wiped my face on my sleeve, trying to clean myself up. Warily, I stood up. Everybody lowered their eyes and pretended not to stare. I bit my lip and picked up my things. I could feel everybody's eyes burning into my back as I headed out. I could hear whispers of gossip and people sniggering behind me. Once again, my eyes filled up with tears.

"Hey!" A voice called out to me as I headed out the library. It was probably one of those persistent idiots whos sole mission was to make my life miserable.

"Wait!" I heard his footsteps louden. He was nearing me and I quickened my pace to escape.

"Leave me alone!" I shouted without looking back.

Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist. I whipped myself around angrily, prepared to fend of any snide remarks or comments he could possibly throw at me. My eyes widened immensely and my lips formed an "O" when I saw who he was. It was the handsome library boy.

"You forgot your phone," he said. A small smile crept across those perfect lips.

I found myself staring at him and blushed. There was a strange tingling sensation up and down my arm. I looked down–his slender fingers were still wrapped around my wrist. He saw what I was staring at and let go of me, leaving a delicious burn on my skin.

I looked up and met his eyes. They were even more strikingly beautiful up close. Numbed, I plucked my cell phone carefully from him, muttered a simple thanks, and walked away, leaving him standing alone.

My body couldn't seem to understand this. How could you walk away from him? It screeched at me. I yearned for his touch. I wanted so much to turn around, go back, and just look into his gorgeous eyes. I wanted to know him, about everything. How would it feel to have his lips on mine...I shuddered. I barely know him and I am already falling head over heels for this guy.

Regardless to how my body might react to his (sigh.), I had more pressing issues to deal with–such as finding a replacement for Megan, my pianist. Why oh why can't Megan be sick some other day? I sighed. It wasn't Megan's fault, really, it was mine. I was the idiot who didn't make a tape when she had the chance (Idiot, idiot, IDIOT!).

I dropped my bag at the foot of the stairs leading up to the stage. I was in the school hall. To me, it is the most beautiful of all places in the school–there were the velvety curtains and the beautiful wooden stage which echoes with every step you take. Most important of all, there was an elegant, old grand piano standing proudly at a corner. I ran my fingers along the ivory keys, almost regretting not taking up piano instead of ballet and dance when the choice was mine to make.

I turned around and took a few deep breaths. Then, I walked over to centre stage and started to dance. It seemed strange and awkward at first, without the usual accompanying music, but gradually, it became easier. I could almost hear the soft tinkling music flowing from the piano. I danced for a while, enjoying myself. Suddenly, I realized I didn't know the song. So, how could I have imagined it?

I whirled around and saw him sitting there, still playing. He was staring at me with the most tranquil expression on his face. He didn't need to look at the keys. His fingers just seemed to move naturally, playing out every single note with precision. Slowly, the music dropped to a softer pitch and ended. He looked down for a moment, thinking, then up again.

"I'm Edward," he said with a grin. "And you are?"

"Bella," I replied automatically.

"Bella." It sounded like the most beautiful name on Earth when he said it. Bella," he repeated it again, feeling it on his lips, tasting it, like tasting fine wine. "What's wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. Nothing is every wrong, not when you're around."

I almost said it, but, then...I didn't.

"Umm...it's nothing, really..." I said half-heartedly. I stared at my feet nervously. When I looked up, he was right there beside me.

"Come on," he coaxed. "You can tell me." His voice was soft, just loud enough to hear.

I looked up and met his startling green eyes. "My pianist...sick...can't play... no music..." I mumbled incoherently.

"Let me play for you," he said with a smile. "I can't be that bad!" he continued, an expression of mock hurt spreading across his face when he saw my blank expression.

"I'm sorry," I said weakly. "I...urh...need to get back to class!" I nodded enthusiastically and as if to emphasise my point, the bell rang. My hormones were killing me. I could not stand to be in the same room with him; it made me too nervous.

"Bella," he smiled kindly. "Class just ended. Free period was over hours ago."

"What?" I couldn't stifle a gasp. I started hyperventilating. "How-how could this happen? I cannot have cut class!" Charlie is going to kill me.

"Bella, you were sick so I took you home. How is that wrong?"

I calmed and nodded. Lying was an option. "How long have I been here?" I wondered out loud.

"Almost four hours," he replied.

"Four hours," I breathed, shaking my head. It didn't feel that long.

"So," he was smiling again. "What do you think of my offer?"

I handed him the sheet music. He did sounded good enough. "Can you play this for me?"

He took it and skimmed through the notes, With a confident smile, he strode towards the piano. He made an elaborate show of stretching and preparing before finally sitting down. He met my gaze and beckoned for me with a nod. I sat on the space beside him, not touching him, but close enough to smell him. I gladly inhaled, taking in his scent.

When he started playing, my breath caught in my throat. Megan had been playing this piece for weeks, and still, she makes mistakes, stumbling over the notes once in a while. But he, Edward, was playing it flawlessly with much ease. My jaw dropped, I was mesmerized and completely dumfounded.

"So," he was grinning widely, a playful glint in his eye. "Whaddaya think?"

I smiled. "You're hired."

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