Good Bella, Bad Bella by off-the-deep-end.pdf

Good Bella, Bad Bella by off-the-deep-end

The much awaited story surrounding the one-shot 'White Carpet and Wall Sconces'. Read and

Review. M FOR A REASON. Bad Boy Edward Cullen meets the studious Bella Swan. Do opposites

really attract? And what is Edward's secret?

Chapter 1: Cardigans & Cats

Bella's Point of View

My desk was piled high with articles, none of them organized into any sort of order, my lap top

trying to balance on the tiny square of space not covered in paper. I kept readjusting where it sat

so it didn't come toppling off while I worked. My fingers flew across the keys, not sure exactly what

I was typing, and at this precise moment, not caring.

I checked the clock beside my bed again. Three-thirty in the morning. I pushed a wisp of hair from

my face and pressed my glasses back up my nose again, blinking and staring at the screen to see

what I'd written. Mostly it didn't seem too bad, and I already had eight thousand words. That only

left two thousand. Two thousand words I didn't have. I mentally kicked myself for leaving yet

another essay to the last minute and put my face in my hands, rubbing vigorously to try and wake

myself up.

I heard the door bang open, a small scuffle and then the door click shut much more quietly. A tiny,

uneven clicking sound came closer to my closed door and I sighed, pushing some papers out of the

way a bit more and setting the lap top in a safer position. The clicking became louder and the door

opened to a tiny girl with big hair leaning dangerously on the door frame, eyes unfocused and wild.

Her skirt was twisted slightly to the side and her jacket was unbuttoned to reveal a wrinkled

blouse. She only had one glove. I let my eyes drop to her feet to notice that she was wearing

terrifyingly high stiletto boots, which were obviously creating the clicking noise I'd heard. She was

very obviously three sheets to the wind.

"Bella, you're still up!" Her voice was excited, her words slurred. "You missed the best party." She

pushed herself off the door frame and teetered into my room where she collapsed on the bed.

"Everyone was there." She looked at me through her wide, blue eyes expectantly.

"Hi Jess" I greeted her, spinning my chair around to face her.

"Hi Bella…didn't I already say hi?" She reached down to unzip one of her boots and pull it off.

"Have you been doing homework all night ?" She sounded shocked, as though she hadn't been

living with me for the past year and a half. I just shrugged.

"I'm not done yet, and it's due at nine."

She stood up and teetered over, still in one heel, making walking even more difficult than it already

was. She peered over my shoulder at my computer screen. "Another Philosophy of Feminism

essay? That bitch has nothing better to do than read your million essays? The woman needs a life."

I kind of had to agree. It was a well known fact that Dr. Lindstrom was not well liked by her

students. Feminism was a touchy enough subject anyway, but when taken to the extreme as Dr.

Lindstrom did, it made it almost unbearable. I'd tried really hard to avoid the course but there was

nothing that fit into the timeslot that I hadn't already taken, or wanted to take even less.

"Bella, you're taking a political science degree, this course is a crock of shit." Jessica was always

one to have her opinions known. I shrugged. It was only one semester, I could survive. "You're

less than a month into the semester and already how many essays have you had? Three? Four?

Ten?" I found it strange how she always sobered up when she needed to complain about my course

load.

"This is the fourth. It's only one a week." Jessica made a face.

"Ten thousand words a week, on top of an already heavy course load. Bella, drop it. You never

leave this damn apartment anymore except to go to class. When was the last time you ate a real

meal; one that didn't consist of pizza pockets and Pepsi? And copious amounts of coffee." I guiltily

looked at my, now ice cold, cup of coffee, half drank on top of my printer. "It's getting bad Bella.

You need to get out." I just shrugged again and helped her back to the bed where she took off her

other boot. "Fuckin' cold out there by the way" she told me, rubbing her hands together. I laughed

hollowly. She needed to go to bed so I could pull two thousand more words about feminism

through the ages, out of my ass. "When was the last time you got some?" She lay back on the bed,

her hair now even more wild than when she came in.

"What?" I swiveled by chair back and forth awkwardly.

"When was the last time you got laid? Had sex? Screamed someone's name in more than mere

frustration?" She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow, looking directly into my

eyes.

"Jess, I really need to finish this essay" I told her, hoping she would leave.

"That long huh?" She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Alice Cullen's having a party tomorrow? At their

town house. You should definitely come."

I turned around and took my lap top from my desk and balanced it on my lap, fingers poised over

the keys. If she wasn't leaving, I was going to have to work anyway. "I have homework" I told her,

eyes on the screen.

"It's a Friday. You'll have all weekend."

"I need to do groceries this weekend. And clean."

She stood and walked over to the desk. My schedule was posted on the wall. She peered at it

blurrily. "You have a break between eleven and two. Do groceries then. And then…" She ran her

finger down the chart. "Clean up between three and whenever, and then we'll head over. Your two

o'clock is only a tutorial; you'll be out within an hour." It was a known fact that Jessica never

cleaned. Neither of us denied this fact anymore. Her room was like a war zone. "That leaves you all

weekend to do your homework."

I told her I'd think about it, but only if she left and went to bed so I could finish the essay for

Lindstrom. She agreed, but a few minutes later poked her head back in. "Bella, I'm frigging

hammered and we don't have any pickles." Her pout was very pronounced. She needed her cheese

and pickles. I shook my head.

"Sorry Jess, I'll pick some up. I think there's an old jar of olives in the back. Try that. I really need

to work." Jess rarely did groceries either. I sighed and flipped through what I'd already written. I

could probably draw my conclusion out to at least fifteen hundred words if I spun some crap back

on what I'd already written. I didn't care if it was repetitive. It was four in the morning.

The next thing I really remember was hearing a shrill ringing near my left ear. I jumped, feeling

my glasses shift against the bridge of my nose and hearing a weird, scratchy noise. I sat up,

searching for the source of the noise, and found my cell phone telling me it was eight o'clock. At

least I'd set the alarm. I'd obviously fallen asleep on my piles of paper and I knew I must have

crease marks on my face. I pulled myself out of my chair, peeking at my computer screen, grateful

that I'd pretty much summed up my stupid essay before blacking out. I set it up to print, making

sure that everything was in working order (more than once I'd set stuff up to print and left, only to

realize that it hadn't worked and was then going to be late), and headed for the shower.

The water was hot and welcoming, pounding down on my aching muscles. I reminded myself for

the third time this week that falling asleep on the desk wasn't favourable. I knew I had to be quick

before the hot water ran out. It was one of the downsides to living in an apartment in a house; the

hot water tank wasn't very big. As I dried myself off in my thread bare, beach towel I began to

think over what Jessica had said the night before. How long had it been since I'd been out? Before

Christmas anyway. New Years had been a bit of a joke since I'd flown to Florida to visit my mother

on Boxing Day and stayed until the end of the break. It wasn't like I had friends in Florida. If I

hadn't been out since Christmas, how long had it been since I'd gotten some, as Jess had put it? I

racked my brain, going back to first semester and realizing that I hadn't gotten out much then

either. Hallowe'en? I had a vague image of dragging Dracula's cape from his shoulders in a dark

room somewhere in a house I wasn't sure where was. Yes it must have been Hallowe'en. I winced

inwardly. It had been a while. I'd quit thinking about it to be completely honest. I was focusing on

my school work. Whoever said that PoliSci was a bird course was seriously mistaken.

I checked the time as I passed the kitchen, to notice that it was already eight thirty and hurried to

my room, pulling on a pair of jeans and wooly socks and digging around for a half decent sweater.

I'd have to hurry to make it to the main building in time and Lindstrom wouldn't accept it if it was

even two minutes late. I yanked the essay from the printer, double checking to be sure all the

pages were there and stapling it together before sliding it into my bag. I somehow found those

stupid Ugg boots Jessica had convinced me to buy, thrown haphazardly under my bed, and tugged

them on. At least they were

warm. I wrapped a scarf around my neck and pulled on my jacket as I ran out the door and down

the street.

Jess was right, it was cold. January was my least favourite month in Washington. It was cold and

grey and wet. None of the snow was fluffy; it was just drippy and slushy and clung to everything.

And the wind was bitter. I cursed myself again for wanting to live by the water just for the stupid

ferry boats. Ferry boats I never went on. I walked as quickly as possible, hitching my bag up on my

shoulder every few strides and tip-toeing around slushy puddles when need be. My glasses were

starting to fog in the cold and I pulled them off and wiped them on my mitten, hoping to be able to

see again and cursing myself for not taking time to put my contacts in.

I rounded a corner and the main campus came into view, tall and imposing against the grey sky. I

hurried through the parking lot, weaving between cars and into a door on the back side of the main

building. If I took the back stairs I could make the class room just a little bit sooner. I checked my

watch, not slowing down even for a second as my boot squeaked on the wet, slippery floor. Eight-

fifty. I'd made decent time considering I'd only gotten less than four hours sleep the night before,

on a pile of papers no less. I pushed myself the rest of the way to the top of the stair case and

pushed the door open into the warm, institutional hallway, puffing and red in the face, but very

much on time.

Paper handed in and much less stressed about the clock, I settled into my seat for the two hour

lecture we had to put up with today. I didn't care what it was about. I went back to thinking about

Jessica's offer of the party. It wasn't like anyone wanted to sleep with me anyway and I knew I'd

have to drive since you couldn't trust her to, but it didn't seem like such a bad idea. The essay was

done and the only papers I had due early the next week were a couple of article summaries for

Concept of Political Power. Marxism or something like that. I should be able to get it done Saturday

and Sunday.

I didn't know the Cullen's very well. Alice and I had been project partners in Intro to Labour

Studies first semester since she was taking some sort of sociology major and it was a joint class.

She was alright, reminded me a bit of Jessica in mannerisms. Super bubbly and opinionated. I

knew her family was rich. I'd been to the town house once and wondered why on earth three

students would need a house of such magnitude. Three students because I knew she had two

brothers. I'd met Emmett once while I'd been there and I knew he played on the varsity basketball

team since I'd had to interview him once in my freshman year when I decided to join the school

paper. That hadn't lasted long, and why they would have thought it a good idea for me, Bella

Swan, to cover sports, was beyond me. She also had another brother. She'd said his name was

Edward, but I'd never met him. The day I'd gone to her house to work on the project we'd gone

upstairs, only to be greeted by loud, scary music blaring from the bedroom at the end of the hall.

She'd pointed, rolled her eyes dramatically and yelled over the noise, "Meet Edward!"

I'd never met Edward Cullen but he had a reputation that preceded him. Notorious partier, rule

breaker, womanizer and general slacker, he kept much of the campus wondering how on earth he'd

managed to stay in school. He was one Cullen I never cared to meet.

Lindstrom droned on and on and on about God only knows what for the full two hours. Every so

often she'd readjust her cardigan or hike up the waist band on her granny jeans and someone in

the class would have to stifle a giggle. This woman was just too weird. I imagined her sitting in a

tiny apartment, cardigan buttoned to her chin, surrounded by cats, reading essay after essay after

essay about views on feminism. And never getting laid. My day dream changed. Instead of

Lindstrom sitting in the apartment

surrounded by cats, it was me and there was a scary echo in Jessica's high pitched, girly voice

telling me I should have gotten out more. I shook my head and readjusted my glasses.

'Something wrong Miss Swan?" Dr. Lindstrom's voice broke through. I looked around, dazed.

"Oh, no! I'm fine. Sorry." I hung my head, embarrassed, and sure I was beet red, the image of me

in a cardigan unable to leave my mind. It was decided. I was going to that damn party.

Chapter 2: White Carpet & Wall Scounces

I tried to remember how I had been convinced to come to this stupid party. I knew Jessica had to

have something to do with it, and at the time her argument had definitely made sense. But now,

amongst the loud music, the grinding hips, the flailing arms, the flowing beer, I was completely out

of my element.

"What's up Bella?" I barely heard over the roar of the music and the voices. I turned around and

looked up into the face of my friend Mike. "Do you want a drink?" He pointed at the table behind

him, indicating the array of punches, coolers and beer spread over it. Whatever happened to BYOB

parties?

"I think I'm alright thanks. I think I get the honour of driving, if Jessica ever emerges from

whatever bedroom she and her frat-boy friend have claimed as their own." He laughed easily and

took another swig of his drink.

"Don't you always drive Bells?" I just shrugged. I didn't really mind. "Wild party" he went on,

leaning against the wall beside me and bobbing his head in time to some new song. I had to agree.

Wild was definitely an appropriate word.

"The Cullens always out do themselves" I admitted. They out did themselves; it didn't mean I

enjoyed myself.

"Totally" he agreed. I sighed listlessly. I liked Mike, I really did. He was a nice guy. He'd been a

good friend. Had he not dated Jessica I might have even been interested at one point, but he had

dated Jess, and he hadn't been entirely faithful, and she had been pretty torn up about it. "Weird

how so many of us ended up in the same city huh?" He was trying to keep the conversation

flowing. I smiled appreciatively. He'd obviously noticed I was dead bored before.

"It really is. Stands to reason though. Seattle is the closest big city." I looked around. I was getting

bored even with the conversation I was having. When would Jess be finished? I really wanted to go

home.

"I'm gonna get another drink" he announced, hanging his empty beer bottle between his fingers

proudly. I just nodded and went back to people watching.

The scene was typical; the couches were starting to fill up with bodies slumped in partial

unconsciousness, or couples wrapped around each other, too drunk to realize they should claim a

room upstairs. Anyone left standing was starting to wobble precariously and the stairs were

becoming a serious hazard. I heard the muffled sounds of a fight breaking out and debated taking

a walk over to see what was happening, figuring it had to be more interesting than being the

stereotypical wall flower, but just about as quickly as it broke out, it broke up, the booming,

menacing voice of Emmett Cullen making those involved think twice about shedding blood on the

area rugs. I decided I should maybe take a walk, I could probably find some quiet for a minute in

the bathroom (how sad that sounded even in my head), and then see if I could find Jess, hopefully

clothed and ready to go, so I set out for the stairs, hoping I wasn't going to see, or hear anything I

might regret.

The bathroom was at the end of the hallway. Being project partners with Alice Cullen had informed

me of that. I'd heard there was one downstairs but didn't feel like looking for it, besides which it

was the one every intoxicated person in the house was using. I padded down the carpeted hallway,

passing closed white doors, ignoring the sounds from inside.

It was a pretty big house, considering only the three younger Cullen's lived there. What kind of

parents bought their kids a house for school? Hadn't they heard of seedy apartments and tiny,

cramped residence rooms?

It seemed to take forever until I finally reached the end of the hall and reached for the door knob,

wondering why it was closed but not dwelling on it for too long. I remembered thinking this

bathroom was odd in the past; it had the same thick white carpeting as the hallway. Who carpeted

a bathroom? Especially for a group of rowdy college students? I turned the knob slowly and opened

the door to darkness. I felt around, looking for the light and finally lit up the large, ornately

decorated room. And then I gasped.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry" I managed to stutter out, backing toward the hall. How was I supposed

to know someone was in there? Who sits in the bathroom with the lights off? The person turned

towards me, his eyebrows shooting to his hair line, a sneaky, sarcastic smirk playing on his lips.

"There's a bathroom downstairs" his lips said. I managed to realize he sounded off hand, but not

angry. I just nodded.

"I wasn't sure where it was" I whispered and grimaced at the thought of what the downstairs

bathroom must look like.

"You're not drinking." It was a statement, not a question. His smirk turned to a frown and a he

took a long drag from a smoldering cigarette. "I'll leave" he told me.

"You don't have to" I blurted out, and then realized how that must sound. I felt my face blush as

red as a tomato.

"No?" His eyebrows met his hairline again and the smirk was back.

"I mean…" I searched for the words to tell him what I meant. Wait, why didn't I want him to leave?

Oh right, because he was gorgeous. I had managed to notice that much. His reddish brown hair

hung almost in his eyes, his remarkably green eyes. His lips were all full and dark and…dare I say

kissable? Snap out of it Bella! I managed to chastise myself. "I was just looking for somewhere

quiet, away from everyone out there." I pointed behind me. He nodded, all sexy and mysterious.

"You know, cigarettes are really bad for you" I blurted out again, blushing redder, reminding

myself that his life choices were none of my business.

"I know" he said with a shrug, walking to the small, open window and tapping the ashes out over

the edge before taking another drag. "Sometimes doing things that are bad is a good thing.

Everyone likes a little risk." He inhaled again, tapped it once more, stubbed it out on the windowsill

and tossed the butt out the window. "Don't you think?"

I shrugged too and stepped back into the room, closing the door. "I don't really relish the thought

of shortening my life" I told him, hopping up and sitting on the counter, swinging my legs. I

watched him pop a piece of gum in his mouth and extend the packet towards me. I took a piece

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