Stage Play

Disclaimer: Twilight still belongs to SM. I'm just playing with her characters. *sigh sadly*

Author's Note: This fic is my entry for Ms. Swan's Bookstore's Challenges; you guys should check out their blog if you love Bella and Edward fics!

There are a lot of people I want to thank for starting this one shot and making it presentable: Mandy, thank you for the support! If it weren't for your challenge, I wouldn't be writing this. :) tds88, thanks so much for coming to my aid. You're the best! The PTB Mods (BelleDean) and Betas (GetDrunkOnVictory and bigblueboat), thank you for the help!

Now, let's see what our favorite couple has been up to.

BTW, this was originally posted on FFnet under my penname, Bellaward1105. Feel free to check it out (only my recent stories. The earlier ones are quite embarrassing!)!

Stage Play

"For never was a story of more woe

Than this of Juliet and her Romeo."

After that famous last line, one could hardly miss the collective sighs of the women. Looking around the room, almost everyone looked sleepy, especially the guys. It couldn't be helped. It was Romeo and Juliet, after all, and everyone knew well how males would do anything to bow out of this topic. But it was English class, so we basically had no choice.

Surprisingly, even as a guy, I was one of the very few who were paying attention.

Not that I enjoyed this tragedy—I'd never had much patience with Romeo. And I was not exactly paying attention to Mr. Berty's substitute teacher, Mrs. Carter. She was a forty-year-old woman who was happily married and a certified romantic. That was why she insisted on discussing Shakespeare's most famous work. For the past hour and a half, her soft, dreamy voice had filled the classroom as she prattled on about passages, stopping occasionally to sigh wistfully.

Yeah, I totally understood the guys.

Anyway, I was off point.

I was busy watching the fascinating girl sitting across the aisle. The girl who had her own battered copy of the play opened in one hand, and a pencil in the other. On her desk was a spiral notebook, waiting for the notes she would jot down with her cute handwriting. After every line was read aloud by Mrs. Carter, she would underline something on her copy, her brows furrowing. She bit her lip sometimes, but not in a flirtatious manner—it was never like that. It was always when she was deep in thought or nervous. Her chocolate–brown eyes would widen and crinkle as she began to understand whatever it was with a smile. During the whole period, she was the epitome of a good student.

She was obviously beautiful and smart; that Isabella Swan.

And I obviously had a crush on her, if that fact wasn't clear enough when I had mentioned watching her like the creeper I knew I was.

"Now then." Mrs. Carter broke my musing, and I reluctantly turned away from Bella.

Bella. That was what she insisted on being called when she arrived here in Forks five years ago.

Painfully shy but kind, she managed her first year of unwanted attention here with her best friend, Alice. Alice Brandon was a nice girl. Chatty but I couldn't think of a better friend for Bella than her. I mean, she moved here with Bella to be with her. It amazed me sometimes, the friendship Bella and Alice had.