'Why pencils make very useful weapons'

By Wittyheroine

Summary: In which Bella Swan moves to Forks, meets Edward Cullen, finds him incredibly rude, and also finds that she cannot stop stabbing him with pencils because he cannot stop making annoying comments.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Sigh-it's all Stephenie Meyers brilliance.

Chapter One

Pencils can be weapons too

"Bella," Renee, my crazy-hair brained Mother, said, calling my attention away from the window I'd been staring out of, "you don't have to do this you know." It was the millionth time she had said it since I had announced my plan of moving to Forks, Washington, so that she and her new husband Phil could move around the country while he looked for a baseball job and I wouldn't be a pest. I had already told her that I was fine with going to Forks, and living with Charlie, my Dad, but Renee couldn't seem to be convinced no matter how much I tried.

"But I want to," I assured her, "it's easier this way Mom. You and Phil can move around like you want, and I can stay in one place. Besides, you've had to put up with me for years. Isn't it time I put Charlie through a little misery too?"

Renee sighed as she pulled up to a parking space at the airport. "I suppose," she said, "but you know, you're not exactly a kid known for giving people misery."

I smiled at her. "I guess you're right," I said, "Maybe I can find some trouble in Forks, and be a misery for Charlie there-you know, embrace my inner teenager." Renee looked at me skeptically.

"Bella," she said, "even the biggest trouble maker in the world couldn't find trouble in Forks."

Renee had a point. Forks, Washington was a small town on the Olympic Peninsula with a population of about 3, 120, where it did nothing but rain, and where, unfortunately, my Dad Charlie had made his home, and I was going to join him, and where absolutely nothing happened. Although, now that I thought about it, I supposed my arrival would be news-something I most definitely wasn't looking forward to. I wasn't a fan of being the center of attention.

"Then," I said, "I guess you can stop worrying about me, hmm, Mom?" Renee sighed and shook her head at me, then gave me a kiss on the forehead.

"Call me when you get home," she said, "and I mean the minute that you get home-not five, not ten, the exact minute, okay? You know how I am, always-"

"Worrying?" I finished her sentence for her. "Yes, Mom, I know. I'll call, honest. I've got to go now. There's always a long line at security and I don't want to have to wait that long in it. So, I love you-bye."

"Love you too," she said, "bye sweetie."

I got out of the car and put on my jacket (knowing I would need it when I got off the plane) and then grabbed my things and headed inside the airport. I managed to make it through security without any trouble, only having one bag myself that I was taking on with me because I didn't have much in it. I slept most of the way, and by the time I woke up, I was out of Phoenix, and the pilot was telling us to position our tray tables for landing, or something like that.

When I got off the plane and walked into the air port, sure enough, there was Charlie, in full sheriff's gear. Normally, I didn't mind having a dad that was a cop, but now that I was going to be living with him in a small town, I couldn't imagine that it would make me too popular with the kids-not that popularity had ever been something that I'd been worried about-still, it would be a definite negative when I arrived at school, I was certain.

"Hey Bells," Charlie greeted me.

"Hi Dad," I said.

"You look-taller," he said.

"Nice try Dad," I said, "we both know I haven't grown in two years though." Charlie let out a small laugh, and then gave me an awkward hug.

We parted, and he asked, "Is this everything?"

"Yeah," I said, "they don't exactly carry a lot of winter clothing in Phoenix, so it was hard to go clothes shopping there for Forks. I didn't have much to pack."

"Oh," he said, although he looked slightly relieved-he probably assumed that now that I was a teenager, and a girl, he would be forced to carry dozens of bags to his cruiser when I got there. "Alright-the car's parked outside then."

We walked out of the airport to its parking lot, keeping our distance. We weren't exactly touchy feely people, Charlie and I. When we got to the police cruiser, I shuddered-I made a mental note to save up money for a car so that I wouldn't have to ride in it to school for too long. I knew there was no way Charlie could by me one on his small income, so there was no point in asking him for one. Oh well-I'd just have to get a job or something, which wouldn't be a problem-I'd worked at a bookstore in Phoenix. I could work again here.

"So," said Charlie while he drove, "how's your Mom and whatshisname?"

"Mom and Phil," I said, emphasizing my Step Dad's name, even though I knew Charlie could remember it perfectly well he was just pretending not to because he didn't like the idea of Mom remarrying, "are perfectly fine. Mom say's hi by the way, and to tell you thanks for the toaster you sent them for the wedding gift."

"Oh," said Charlie, turning red slightly a trait that I'd unfortunately inherited from him, "well…you tell her she's welcome."

"I will," I said, "or you could tell her yourself you know. I'm supposed to call her when we get home."

"Nah," said Charlie, "you can do it. She wouldn't want to talk to me."

I shook my head. Renee and Charlie had been married in a quickie wedding ceremony when they were young. Whenever I asked them about it, they both just replied that it was the sixties. I think Charlie would have stayed with her if she'd let him. But Renee hadn't been able to stand Forks, and so the marriage hadn't lasted. I was once asked if I was bitter about my parents' divorce, but I really wasn't. I think it was for the best. Although I knew Charlie was wrong about the part where he said Mom wouldn't want to talk to him. She didn't love him the way she used to, but she did still love him. I could always tell.

The cruiser pulled up to Charlie's house, still the same as it always had been. The paint was a bit faded, and the walkway wet, of course, because as always, it was raining. Charlie got out and opened the door for me. I got out too and went to grab my bag, but he beat me to the chase and took it for me. He headed inside, and showed me to my room, putting my bag down on my bed for me.

"It hasn't changed much," he said, referring to the old room where I used to stay during the summer, the room that had been mine since I was little-my Mom's old rocking chair was even there still. It was clear Charlie didn't do much with the house. Then again, his job was his life-he never would have had the time to.

"It's okay," I said, "sometimes no change is a good change." I said it only because I didn't want him to think that I didn't like it. I could add stuff the longer I was there, so for now it was fine, even though it still had drawings I'd done when I was five hung up on the walls. The only real change was a bigger desk with a computer that was several years old on it, probably put there for my benefit.

"So," said Charlie, "you should probably call your Mom now. I'll be in the living room if you need me." He headed down stairs and in a few seconds there was the sound of Mariners game being played on the television. I shook my head-clearly not much changed when it came to Charlie.

There was a phone on the nightstand next to my bed, so I picked it up and called Renee. I told her I made it home safely, that everything was fine, and that Charlie said hi. I then listened to her talk for about fifteen minutes, rambling on about various different things before telling her I was tired and was going to go to bed and hung up the phone. I changed into a set of old, worn pajamas, closed my door, turned off the light and curled up in my bed, tired from the long plane ride despite having slept on the way. Too much sleep could only be helpful, considering that my first day of school was in the morning.

It seemed like only moments after I had gone to sleep before I heard a knock at my door. "Bells," came Charlie's voice from outside my room, "time to get up-school." I got up and out of bed slowly, and with reluctance.

After getting out of bed, I went to the one bathroom in the house, showered, then changed into a long sleeved shirt and jeans, throwing my jacket on too-I already knew it was raining, I had looked out the window in my bedroom before I'd gone to get a shower, not that there was any point in looking-it would never be sunny in Forks. The day it was, hell would be freezing over.

I ate breakfast-toast, because Charlie had nothing-as slowly as possible because I wasn't looking forward to being driven to school in the police cruiser. In fact, I was dreading it, certain that the experience was going to be the most embarrassing thing that I'd ever experienced-it hadn't even happened yet and I could already feel the blush on my cheeks. "Come on Bells," said Charlie as I put my dishes in the sink, "you don't want to be late on your first day."

No, I didn't want to be late on my first day-I just didn't want the first day to happen-at all. I got into the police car, my stomach sinking as I did so. We pulled into the parking lot of Forks High School-it wasn't much to look at, and if you didn't know it was a high school, you wouldn't be able to tell that it was. Much to my irritation, there were already students (and faculty) in the parking lot and I could feel the stares as Charlie pulled the car in. I knew it wasn't possible but I could have sworn I could hear the whispers too.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Charlie asked.

"No thanks Dad," I said quickly, grabbed my stuff and got out of the car as quickly as I possibly could, heading for the administration office where I needed to go to get my schedule and things. I knew I shouldn't have been so mean like that to Charlie, but I just couldn't stand sitting out there in the police car with him any longer. I was worried the stares were going to burn through the glass of the windows.

In the administration office, I said to the woman at the reception desk, "Hi, I'm Bella Swan-I'm new here. I'm supposed to get my schedule and things?" The receptionist looked up with knowing in her face-so there had been talk about me. That wasn't exactly a big shocker-what, with a small town where absolutely nothing happened.

"Oh yes," said the receptionist, who rummaged through some files on her desk, and then handed me a folder of papers, "there's your schedule, a map of the school, a copy of the school dress code, and some other things too. Have Chief Swan take a look at them when you can, alright?"

I loved my Dad and all, but I could already tell that being the sheriff's daughter was going to be a pain. "Sure thing," I said to the receptionist.

I left the administration building, and then walked through the school. I looked at my schedule-English, Spanish, Math, History, then lunch, Biology, and urgh Physical Education. Apparently they had P.E. all four years in Washington, instead of only the two I'd had to take at Phoenix. There was strike number two against Forks, along with the weather. If being the sheriff's daughter wasn't embarrassing enough, my lack of balance and coordination would certainly do even more damage.

I walked through the halls, feeling stares coming at me from all directions. I tried to avoid them, but it was impossible without looking at the ground, and that wouldn't be good knowing me-I would most likely end up running into someone, and that wouldn't be a good way to start things off.

"Hi there," came a voice from behind me, and I turned to see a guy about my age, nerdy looking with slicked back black hair standing there, "are you Isabella, Chief Swan's daughter?" I cringed at the use of my full name-so girly-Charlie probably called me that to everyone when I wasn't there. I'd have to correct him of that habit.

"Bella, actually," I said.

"Right-nice to meet you, Bella," he said, "I'm Eric Yorkie."

"Erm, nice to meet you, Eric," I said. He stood there staring at me for a moment as though I were completely fascinating.

"Uh huh," said Eric just then.

"I didn't…erm, I didn't say anything," I said.

Eric blinked, and looked at me confused. Then, realizing he had done something idiotic, he laughed nervously and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, right, right-of course you didn't," he said, "so um, what are your classes, Bella?"

"I actually have English first," I said, "With Dent or something?"

"Oh right," said Eric, "that'd be Miss Dent. That's actually on the way to my class. I can show you…" he paused, and cleared his throat, "that is, if you er…want me to." I shook my head, thinking that Eric, while nice, was more than a little strange.

"Um, sure," I said though, mostly because I was certain I wouldn't find the place on my own. Eric walked me to class, said good bye and then stumbled off. I walked in, getting stares. I muttered to the teacher, Miss Dent, my name and who I was, and she told me to take a seat.

I looked around for one, and there was only one in the back, next to a guy who had his head down, like he was resting it.

The bell rang and class started up. The teacher droned on about whatever it was they were reading. I would have paid attention, normally, because I liked English, but she was talking about a book I had already read-The Great Gatsby and I was certain that I wouldn't get called on, it being my first day.

I took the time to overlook some of the papers I'd gotten in my registration packet, which included the syllabuses for my classes. I looked over the one for English, and found that much of the material we'd be reading were things that I'd already read. Just then, I heard someone say, in a bored, male voice, "Miss Dent just asked you a question." I looked up, startled at a pale face with green eyes that looked like he could have been something made by Leonardo, but expressionless.

"What?" I said.

"Miss Dent just asked you a question," he said, nodding towards the teacher.

"Miss Swan, did you hear me?" asked Miss Dent.

I colored with embarrassment. "No," I said, "I'm sorry. What was the question?"

"My question was, how does Nick Carraway feel about Gatsby?" asked Miss Dent, looking directly at me.

I knew this answer. I mean, I'd read the book-not as much as I'd read others, like say, something by Jane Austen or Shakespeare. But I knew it. I stammered, though, startled by having everyone looking at me expectantly, because I was new girl. I would be glad when the day was over.

After a few moments of my not answering, since I froze due to everyone's staring, the guy next to me said, "It could be said that Carraway doesn't much like Gatsby for his excesses, breaches of manners and ethics, yet in the same way, Carraway admires Gatsby."

"Thank you, Mr. Cullen," said Miss Dent, "Miss Swan, have you read The Great Gatsby?"

"Yes," I mumbled.

"Hmmm," said Miss Dent, "perhaps you should re-read it as a refresher for this class."

"Yes Miss Dent," I said, although of course I wouldn't. I didn't need to. I just needed people to not be staring at me when I was supposed to answer a question, and for it not to be my first day, and for me not to be completely nervous.

"And thank you Edward Cullen for answering," said Miss Dent to the guy sitting next to me.

Miss Dent went on with her lecture, and everyone stopped staring at me, although there were a few whispers around me, and I hated thinking about what they were saying-probably something along the lines of 'idiot' and 'slow'.

Just then, the guy sitting next to me leaned over, grabbing my desk with his hand and whispered, "You know, there's a thing here called a library. You should use it." I looked up at him, glared and was about to say something, but, as though I was a puppet being controlled by someone else, instead of merely saying something like I planned to, my hand, which was clenching a mechanical pencil, reached over and stabbed him.

Edward Cullen let out a yelp of pain, holding his hand, and a small trickle of blood came from it. The next thing I knew, I felt a little woozy, and then everything went black….

A/N: Okay, there's my first chapter of my first Twilight Fanfic. Very short chapter, at least I think so. Anyway, it was inspired by that quote 'So did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what?' or something like that. I thought that I might like to see Bella actually stab Edward with a pencil, and thought about the one thing that could actually do it, and so I felt that Edward insulting her knowledge of English literature would be the perfect thing to irritate her….and well…too much free time and this, led to it. So please review. Thanks.