'She's such a charmer, oh no.'

Kings of Leon - Charmer

Chapter 1: Charmer

~*~Bella~*~

Ok, it wasn't so bad.

I'd already made a few friends, was able to find my way to classes relatively easily, and Forks High School wasn't nearly as bad as I had thought it would be. The staring was a little uncomfortable, but I could handle it. After lunch, in which I'd sat with the curly haired girl from my Spanish class and a few other girls I didn't remember the names of, I made my way over to my biology lesson.

I wandered over to the science building, and ok, maybe I was a little hasty in refusing the chubby blond guy's offer to walk me to class, because I totally got lost on my way there.

"Room 35, where the fuck is room 35?" I muttered, my eyes scanning every door I came across – none of which were room 35. The second bell had already rung, indicating that class had begun. Further indicating that I was late. "Shit. I so didn't wanna be late for class on my first day." I whined to myself, pausing in the hall and taking out the extremely unhelpful map I had been given in the morning.

I sighed as I peered at the blurred map, trying to discern exactly where I was. Forks High wasn't a huge school, it shouldn't have been this difficult to find one fucking class. Suddenly there was a shadow looming over the faded piece of paper, making it even more difficult for me to read it. I looked up, half irritated that whoever it was was blocking my light, and half hopeful that they could help me find this elusive room 35.

"Whoa."

I stepped back, startled by the height and the proximity of the guy towering above me. I was kind of small, 5,4 at most, and this guy looked to be at least 6,2. He was peering at me curiously, an eyebrow elevated, obscured by shaggy blond hair. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his black leather jacket, and he stood perfectly still for a moment as he appraised me.

"Who are you?" He asked eventually, and his voice was low and gravelly, rumbling in his chest, which I noticed looked rather broad. There was no way this guy was in high school, I mean, he looked old enough to be in college.

"Bella." I answered simply, a little annoyed at the abrupt question.

His eyes, which were a sparkling pale blue, studied my face, and then slowly roamed down my body, all the way down to my feet, where he stopped. They then travelled back up the way they had gone down, and ended up back on my face, boring into my eyes.

Did this guy just check me out?

I was more than just a little annoyed now. I folded my arms across my chest, securing my books behind them and glared at him. We stood there a moment, in complete silence while he just continued to stare at me, remaining motionless. I broke our eye contact first, partly because he was creeping me out, and partly because I was going to be really late for class if I didn't. He certainly didn't seem like he was in a hurry.

I looked at my watch and sighed impatiently.

"Um, are you just gonna stand there checking me out or are you gonna help me find my class?"

He seemed a little startled. He removed his hands from his pockets and also folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head to the side a little as his red lips curled at the corners in a smirk.

"A little sure of yourself aren't you? What makes you think I was checking you out?" He asked.

"Hmmm, let's see, probably because of the fact that your eyes were just travelling up and down my body a second ago." I raised my eyebrows and he grinned a surprisingly boyish grin, his teeth a pearly white.

"Ok, you caught me." He winked.

Was he serious?

"Look, I'm late for class so if you don't mind..." I said, starting to move around him, but he blocked my path.

"Where're you going?"

I moved in the other direction, trying to skirt around him but he moved with me, once again blocking my path.

I sighed in frustration. I was fully pissed off now. I was late for class and here was this weird guy who was of no help finding my class, plus, he had unabashedly undressed me with his eyes, then admitted that he had, and now he was making me even more late for class.

"I'm going to class." My teeth were clenched now. "I'm already late; so if you don't mind..." I made to move again, stepping to the side and he stepped with me. "Can you move out of my way?!"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't you need help finding the class?"

"No, I'm sure I can find it. Now, if you could just excuse me..." I made to move once again, but it was pointless. He wasn't going to let me pass.

"What class is it?" He questioned.

I sighed. "Biology."

"What room?"

"Thirty five."

He grinned again. "C'mon, I'll take you."

He spun around and started striding down the hall, his hands back in his pockets. I followed, because really, what other options did I have? I had missed twenty minutes of class already. His long legs made him walk pretty fast, and it was a little difficult to keep up. Whilst behind him it was kind of impossible to not look at him, I mean, he was right in front of me an all. I wasn't checking out his ass or anything – though he did have a pretty nice ass – but the first thing I noticed was his boxers. They were white, Calvin Klein written in grey around the rim. He wore black jeans, which were low on his hips, and his black Nikes were silent on the polished floor as he moved fluidly.

We walked on, in silence again, and he stopped outside a door at the end of the hall. It didn't have a number on it and I had assumed it was a janitor closet or something when I had passed it earlier. He leaned against the wall next to the door and tossed his hair out of his eyes. A silver stud twinkled in his left ear.

"This is it." He pointed towards the door. "Room 35."

I frowned at the door. It really didn't look like it was a lab. "Are you sure? I don't see any number on it."

He rolled his eyes again. "Positive. Just knock."

He moved away from the wall while I walked up to the door uncertainly and knocked. A few seconds later the door opened, and an annoyed looking, forty-something year old guy, with dark, curly hair and a rapidly receding hairline peered out at us from behind thick round glasses. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Is there anything I can help you with Jasper? And who is this?" His gaze shifted to me.

"Um, I'm Isabella Swan. It's my first day today and I'm in this class. I'm really sorry I'm late, I got a little lost on my way here."

"Ah, Isabella, I was wondering what had happened to you. Now Mr Cullen, what is your reason for being here? Aren't you late for your own class?"

"I've got a free period." He shrugged. "I saw Isabella here in the hall looking a little lost, so I helped her find her class." He grinned at me.

"Hmmm, ok, well Miss Swan come in and take a seat. Jasper you may leave."

"Ok Mr B, see you tomorrow." He said with a salute. He had walked halfway down the hall - surprisingly fast actually – when he glanced over his shoulder and called, "You too, Isabella."

The way he stressed my full name – which I hated by the way – irked me.

"Thanks for your help, Jasper." I reciprocated, and he flashed me those pearly whites again, before turning and sauntering away nonchalantly.

TTT

The teacher, who I found out was called Mr Banner, ushered me over to the only available seat left in the class – a seat next to a guy. His arm was propping up his head as he leaned on the table, staring at nothing in particular and looking extremely bored. As I walked over to the desk, his eyes shifted to mine for a second before he looked away again, twiddling his pen around his fingers in his free hand.

I collapsed onto the stool heavily, relieved at finally finding the class and the fact that Mr Banner wasn't too fussed about my tardiness. I leaned over the desk and started taking out my pens and notebook, causing my hair to fall forward over my shoulders. I tossed it back with my hands and sat up, glancing at the guy I was sitting next to from the corner of my eye.

And what the fuck?

He no longer looked bored. He was sitting up, his back ramrod straight. The hand that had been twiddling the pen was now gripping it tightly, so tightly that his knuckles were white from the pressure. He was motionless as he sat rigidly, and I swear it looked like he was holding his breath. I was slightly alarmed, I mean, what the heck was up with him? And why the heck was I meeting these weird guys? I looked at his face and he was scowling, his brows furrowed deeply, his mouth in a tight line, his chiselled jaw line tensed. He caught me looking and his jade eyes narrowed at me menacingly. I quickly averted my gaze, running my hand through my hair and letting out a quiet breath.

I'm pretty sure I heard him groan.

"Fuck." He muttered angrily, his voice husky and resonant.

Seriously, what was his problem?

I ran my hand through my hair again. It was a nervous habit I did almost unconsciously.

"Will you fucking stop that?"

I looked at him in surprise. "Excuse me?"

He was glaring at me from the corner of his eye. "Stop shaking your fucking hair."

Well excuse me for fucking breathing.

"Why?" I questioned, getting pretty wound up. Who the hell was he to tell me what to do with my hair?

The pen he was holding looked like it was about to snap any second. His teeth were clamped together as he muttered, his voice sounding strained, "It's getting on my nerves."

What the fuck? Was he crazy?

I arched an eyebrow at him, my irritation overriding the strange apprehension that had begun creeping up on me the moment I had sat down next to him. "And what if I don't wanna stop?" I challenged childishly.

He looked at me incredulously, like he couldn't believe I was actually challenging him, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. He ran his hand through his own hair, effectively messing it up even more than it already was; which I would have thought to be impossible if I hadn't seen it for myself. He gazed at me for a long moment, frowning; his posture still impossibly stiff before he said,

"Who are you?"

I gritted my teeth in frustration. Why were these guys so weird? And rude? Well, the chubby baby-faced guy was nice, as well as the skinny black haired one with the glasses, and a few other guys smiled at me and welcomed me to Forks as I made my way through the halls earlier on. It was just that other weird guy who was rude. What was his name again? Jasper. What an odd, old fashioned name. And now there was this guy acting like I had killed his puppy or something.

"Bella. Who are you?" I responded curtly.

He didn't answer; instead he just stared at me, looking puzzled. His dishevelled hair was brown, but I noticed that when the light from outside the window hit it, it shone in a strange bronze tone. He was in a grey hoodie, and when I glanced down at his leg, which was tapping furiously underneath the table, I saw that he was wearing faded blue jeans.

Oh. My. God.

That wasn't the only thing I noticed when I glanced down at his leg. And what I noticed made my jaw drop in shock. Could this day get anymore strange? Because this guy, the guy who was glaring at me murderously, the guy who looked like he was going to snap his pen in half, the guy who looked absolutely livid, for reasons unknown to me, was also sporting a serious hard on. And I emphasise the serious part because I could clearly see the outline of it through his jeans, pressed down on its side on his leg, and from what I could see, he was either extremely well endowed or hiding a long flashlight in his pants. I decided the former was the case.

I gasped and looked back up at his face, which was still twisted in a scowl as he continued to stare at me. It was obvious that I had spotted his little...I mean his big problem, but he didn't seem to care. I mean, he didn't look remotely embarrassed, or even try to cover it up. I blinked at him in annoyance.

"Will you stop staring at me like that? And what exactly is your problem? Well, apart from the one in your pants." I decided to add, hoping that it would embarrass him and he would look away. No such luck.

"You're...strange." He muttered, more to himself, and my jaw dropped again.

Wait, he thought I was strange? This guy, who didn't know me at all but was acting like he couldn't stand me – while seemingly aroused for God knows what reason – was telling me I was strange?

"Look buddy, if I'm strange, then the best description for you is probably 'not human' because 'strange' doesn't even cover what you are."

His eyes widened a little at that, and he looked a little taken aback. Then his face broke out into a small smirk, and his smile was a little lopsided, one cheekbone rising higher than the other. It would have been kind of cute if he wasn't so weird.

"Perceptive aren't you?" He murmured. "And yeah, the little problem in my pants? Your fucking fault."

What the fuck? First, the other guy had openly stripped me naked with his eyes and now this guy was getting a hard on over me? You know at the beginning when I said it wasn't so bad? Yeah, I'm starting to rethink that statement.

"Listen you asshole!" I whispered fiercely. "Whatever dirty thoughts you're thinking involving me had better stop before I expose you for the filthy perv you are."

He grinned again, though he was still tensed. I was also pretty sure I hadn't seen him take a breath at all since I had sat down. How was that possible?

"Oh believe me; I'm trying to stop the thoughts, for your sake as well as mine. But if you keep tossing your fucking hair around you're just gonna make it harder for me."

Ok, what the hell did that mean? And make what harder? His penis?

"Have you got some kind of hair fetish or something?" I asked sarcastically.

"No."

"Then why does me tossing my hair affect you?"

"Look, I told you, it's irritating. Just stop doing it. And could you move away from me a little, you're a little too close for comfort."

I was sitting pretty close to him actually. My own leg was actually touching his. I didn't even realise.

"Geez, what, do I smell or something?" I said, shuffling down. I sniffed my hair discreetly just to make sure. It didn't smell bad. It actually smelt kind of good, fresh and faintly of coconut from my conditioner.

"Yeah you do actually. Very strongly."

I was stunned by his words. Did he really just tell me that I smelt? It had meant to be a rhetorical question.

"You're a real fucking charmer you know that?" I said crossly, shuffling even further away from him until I was at the very edge of the desk.

He didn't respond, and turned to face the front of the class and I think I heard him murmur something like, "Better."

We sat in silence then, and ok, I couldn't help glancing down at his lap again a few times, you know, just to see if his problem had abated – and I was shocked to see that he was still hard.

"Edward, could you tell us which stage of mitosis is on the diagram shown on the board?"

He sighed irritably – the first breath he seemed to have taken – and folded his arms over his chest.

"Anaphase." He answered dully, his tone obviously highlighting his disinterest.

"Correct. Thank you Mr Cullen." Mr Banner said.

Cullen? Wait, wasn't that the surname of that other guy? Jasper?

Before I had time to even ponder over that fact, the bell had rung. I was relieved, getting up quickly and hurriedly packing my things back into my backpack. It must have been the classroom door opening that caused a small draft to blow my hair around my face a little, and I brushed it back from my face, exaggerating my movements purposely, to annoy Edward a little more before I left. I turned to him, smirking triumphantly -

And my smile faded instantly, my mouth dropping open, and I gaped at the empty desk in utter confusion, because he was gone. He had vanished. Disappeared. And I began to question my sanity a little bit. Maybe I had imagined him? Imagined our whole exchange? Maybe my mind was so far gone, that it conjured up imaginary, good looking, mysterious guys. Heck, maybe that Jasper guy was also a figment of my imagination.

Ha, yeah right. As if I could be that creative.

TTT