Identity Crisis
By Narkness

CHAPTER SEVEN

Pain In My Pants

Acquaintances. Bella thought about that word when she stirred from her slumber. It rolled off the tongue beautifully and she was exultant. She stretched, she yawned, and rolled. Her goofy smile grew. She had plenty of time until breakfast to get ready. A head of bronze was grooming in the open bathroom, brushing his teeth and trying to flatten the hair that stood upright on his head. In his jim-jams. Bella smiled, and for a moment, forgot the pretext for why on earth she was here.

Feeling around, she found her own new, short boyish hair was too sticking up awkwardly. Her heart clenched, even boys had bad hair days. Bella slid her cold feet into her slippers and shuffled into the bathroom. Her toiletries were disturbingly neatly packed on the left side of the room, much like had happened to her shampoo and soap. "Morning." She said, cheerful, and picked up her toothbrush.

Edward grunted and spat. Ew. Bella had originally known that boys were shameless and gross, but had at least hoped, this was an act put on for public places to impress their mates and disgust their parents. Unfortunately, Edward had now proven the theory wrong. He wasn't even polite about the spitting, or try to cover his mouth. She took note of his manly behavior and spat as horrifically as she could, with noise and all. Bella was rather proud of herself.

And then, she finally saw his cheek. It had been too dark last night and in the harsh light of day, Bella saw the price of being a manly man. The only pale, flawless cheek was now bruised with ugly blue and black. She was genetically predisposed to feel pity for him, drawing out a maternal instinct. Edward ignored his razor, knowing better than to shave around a bruise and stroked his stubbled cheek. He rather liked it.

Bella liked it too, remembering a stubbled cheek against hers once… Bad. Very bad train of thought. She was a strong manly, man who was abstaining from thoughts of Bella. She was Benjamin. Benjamin didn't have a broken heart. Although, he was only invented just last week, he'd been born in a little back-water town surrounded by corn fields in Indiana, his mother's name was Julia and his father was Benjamin Snr, who was a local car salesman with a crooked moustache. Benjamin wanted to grow up to be an attorney, own a Mercedes and cheat on his trophy wife.

It was the furthest thing from who she really was. That was why she was here. To erase herself and to partially find herself. It was just too hard to be Isabella Swan, with a broken heart and poor excuse of a family. She was born right here in Forks, Washington of a young and hastily married couple. It was only the barest of memories she held, of rain and her father's aftershave.

Now it was just the distinct smell of her new roommate, which was apparently a mixture of heavy, duty soap and a sweet scent she couldn't put her finger on. It was undeniably masculine, with an undertone of deodorant and rich shaving creams. Bella still somehow smelt of her old strawberry shampoo. Edward stepped out as Bella convincingly began to lather her cheeks with shaving cream. The bathroom door closed on her and she figured he was getting changed as she gave up the guise of shaving. She just washed her face instead, stinking of the spicy cream.

Edward emerged in just under five minutes, doing up his tie and tucking up his cuffs. Bella watched from the corner of her eye as he spruced. She could now comfortably tell Mike Newton that yes, Eddy-teddy did spend a copious amount of time trying to get his hair to sit right, as unmanageable as it was. Bella decided she rather liked being acquaintances.

Edward, however, was fighting an unbearable eye twitch. He was sure he'd said acquaintances, not bathroom buddies. He had meant that acquaintances were indifferent to each other, and generally, like a stranger on the street, stayed out of your way. This stranger was in his street and quite frankly, kept spitting noisily and making a mess of the mirror with globs of spit. Edward didn't barge up into Benjamin's side of the mirror, spread his things around and projectile spit. And to think, last night, he'd gone to sleep peacefully.

Now, a bare light of day saw him face consequences of bruises, obnoxiously-friendly spit and disappointment. He dreaded the reactions of Jasper and Emmett, who he was sure had been throwing peas with surprising accuracy at the fight. It also left him with a torturous week of free afternoons, banned from running with the track team and henceforth the events. He'd have to take up a new hobby, like perhaps, new and inventive ways to kill himself. Or, probably clean the ceiling again and polish the windows. Edward was sure insanity was to ensue if his roommate kept making a mess and violating his space with uneven shampoo bottles.

Edward prayed, as he tied his laces watching his odd roommate make sure every angle of his hair was sitting right, that he could slip out. Because, he was not going to eat breakfast with a mini-talkative Emmett, and let mini-Emmett have any form of conversation with actual Emmett. Armageddon would ensue. He got to his feet and crept out the door, rather pleased with himself when no one came screaming after him.

"Dude, you completely nailed James," Emmett declared, rising to greet Edward as soon as he entered the cafeteria for breakfast, "I hear you knocked one of his teeth out. Somebody won't be smiling when the dance rolls around," He raised his thick hand in hope of a slamming high-five, but instead, Edward ignored him without any form of disgust, taking a seat.

"He can't run in next month's track meet, he was a shoe-in," Jasper murmured to his verbal-filter-impaired friend, pretending Edward couldn't hear over the sound of munching and crunching. His eyes didn't even drag away from the Guns & Gals he had sitting on the table.

But as always, Emmett was insensitive.

"Tough break, dude," Emmett said, offering some semblance of a reassuring frown, "I mean, it's rough enough that Lauren dumped you, but now, you can't even -" Jasper smacked Emmett across the back of his head, with starling accuracy.

Jasper's eyes remained on his magazine, finding the comparison of Lady South's mammoth mammaries to the latest chrome handgun that could kill a man with optimum blood splatter. It was rather enthralling subject matter, especially the boobs. There was always something about a lady in cowboy boots and a strategically placed hat.

"There's always the month after next month's meet," Emmett continued, despite the two warnings, and Edward let out a long, grating groan before planting his face against the laminate table as the gravity of his loss hit him. No track meet. No qualifying for Districts. The sure and distinct creeping feeling that several kinds of flesh-eating bacteria crawling onto his face from the filthy tables did not bother him, "Aren't you hungry?"

"No," Edward ground out. He was a teenage boy, he'd already perfected the art of wallowing and sulking.

"When a dog doesn't eat, that's when you know there's something truly wrong," Jasper whispered cryptically, before taking a bite of his heavily buttered toast and bacon, "My Ma used to say that," Satisfied at dispensing this wisdom, he went back to his munching silence, running his fingers only momentarily through his curly hair, spreading cooking grease.

There was a moment of silence, and yet again, Emmett missed an opportunity to be quiet.

"Hey, dude, it's your roomie," He declared, a bright grin plastered across his face, despite the early hour, "You!" Emmett called out, but failed to grab the boy's attention, even as his eyes flickered around the lunch room, "What's his name?"

"Benjamin James," Jasper offered indifferently and Edward flinched. As if the humiliation couldn't get any worse.

"Oi! Benjamin!" Emmett roared, vibrating the tables with the sheer volume, and leaving Edward's ears ringing, "Come sit here!"

Benjamin appeared a dorky deer in horrific headlights, clutching his lunch-tray nervously. He approached just as nervously, eyes surveying the table of three boys.

"Is it alright if I…" The boy began to stammer, glancing at the only spare seat, beside Edward, who appeared to be comatose.

"Dude, sit your pansy-ass down."

Bella couldn't begin to understand how boys socialized with each other. It was like accidentally driving into the French part of Canada, and having to ask for directions from strange smelling folks.

Bella didn't speak French.

So when, the monstrous man with more testosterone than a bottle of steroids called her over and called her a pansy-ass, she was inclined to think it was simply friendly banter. Maybe insults were the male equivalent of a female 'of course you can sit there.'

She was actually thankful someone had invited to sit. She couldn't see Mike anywhere in the cafeteria, her flamboyant savior was gone. But she couldn't help but hesitate, the group made her nervous.

Actually the emanation pheromones from Calvin Klein model potentials were, but Bella tried not to dwell on that. She cleared her throat thickly, and slammed down her tray with a little more force than necessary. Edward flinched, yelping as the noise was magnified in his ear-drum pressed to the table.

Bella squeaked as she realized what she'd done in an attempt to keep up her boyish ruse, and scrambled to apologize, but cut off the words, realizing how stupid she sounded. Edward narrowed his emerald eyes at her, before burying his face in his folded arms on the table once more.

"Thanks, erm…" Bella started, realizing there were other members at the table.

"Emmett McCarty, Eddy-boy's brother by law," The monster-mash held out a greasy hand, with a strip of bacon dangling from his open, chewing mouth, "Senior. Football squad," He added, as if this was important knowledge for her to know.

Bella took it rather reluctantly, as Emmett shook enthusiastically and just about dislocated her shoulder, "Erm, Benjamin. Senior. Haven't been assigned a sport," She decided, letting out a gruff, awkward laugh on the end, and flickered over to the second boy who'd burst into the room like the Thing From the Swamp.

"Jasper Hale," He didn't bother to offer his hand, it put Bella little more at ease actually, "Don't eat the scrambled eggs," The boy put on a half-smile, looking up from his semi-pornographic magazine. It was subtle, but perhaps this was how boys initiated friendship. Bella nodded back, putting on an appropriately stoic look and scraping the runny yellow substance from her toast.

"So, any of you seen Newton…" Bella inquired, putting on her best uncaring impression and taking a stab at the sausage on her plate with her spork.

"Newton has homo-explosion on Tuesday morning," Emmett blurted, chuckling like it was some hilarious joke, but the laughter fell alone.

"The English Department and the Drama Department have an illegitimate child each year, and call it Shakespeare. I think it's The Twelfth Night this time," Jasper said, still not looking away from his enthralling magazine. At least he wasn't being rude.

"Isn't that the one where the dude and the chick hook up and say stuff and then die?" Emmett asked, sounding just a little stupid. Edward snorted, revealing that he had in fact been paying attention.

"That's Romeo and Juliet, you douche," Jasper said, sipping a cup of juice. Emmett's face turned a shade of purple.

"What the hell is it about then?" Emmett bit back, embarrassed.

"Mistaken identity," Bella piped up, and almost immediately wished for once in her life, she'd just shut her mouth. Three sets of eyes focused on her warily. "I…ah, my girlfriend made me watch She's the Man," Bella quickly backtracked, not entirely a lie. Bella had read every Shakespeare novel there was and owned a copy of them all. She'd made Jake watch it with her when he refused to watch Bas Lurmann's version of Romeo and Juliet.

"That's Shakespeare?" Emmett asked, frowning, looking at Bella, "I thought it was just like, men in tights and stuff." Bella tried not to flinch as the man ran his greasy fingers through his hair. "I mean, Mr. Harriet is always saying crazy shit. He must be into guy on guy or something, always blathering about traditional Shakespeare, you know," Emmett ranted and then swiftly shut himself up with a piece of toast.

While Edward was doing his best to just ignore Benjamin James and the urge to murder Emmett, his ears pricked up at the mention that Benjamin had a girlfriend. Impossible. It went against all the clues Edward had compiled and the relief that washed through him only served to make him more confused.

If Benjamin wasn't gay, then his reasoning pointed to the fact that Edward himself was trapped in a huge closet of denial, put there all by himself. Crap.

"So, Benji, what brings you to Sporks?" Emmett asked casually, but the humour of the statement appeared to pass right over the head of Benjamin. "You know, a spork?" Emmett declared incredulously. Benjamin still looked at him blankly.

"I don't get it," the boy said, with a shrug, casting his eyes around the room. Edward did his best to pretend the boy wasn't there, looking at the back marble wall. But his irritation and depression over the track meet was over-come by the need to avert the Emmett-Benjamin apocalypse, when the two boys figured out they could talk and talk and talk for hours.

"A spork, a spoon and fork hybrid," Jasper offered, like some kind of interactive dictionary. He turned the page casually and tore a piece of toast apart with his fingers and ate without looking. Jasper's careless attitude annoyed Edward more often than not. Today was no different.

"Oh," Benjamin said, as if enlightened and examined the cutlery at hand closely. "You mean this pronged spoon?"

Edward found the appropriate time for facepalm action and Emmett's eyes grew as wide as saucers. He held his own spork up to his face. "I never thought about it that way," Emmett cracked a wide smile, and his laughter vibrated the table, and cut through the cafeteria like a thrashing elephant. "Dude, you're insane!"

Benjamin smiled weakly, and then even accompanied Emmett in his laughter. Edward tutted darkly and Emmett threw a look at him.

"Why you always got to be a bitch this time of morning, Eddy?" Emmett growled, annoyed to have Edward cutting into his discussion on the finer arts of disposable cutlery. "Go eat something."

Edward all but poked his tongue out at Emmett, pushing his bottom lip out and burying his face in his arms on the table once more. "I don't deserve food," He grumbled.

"Oh please, Mr. Martyr, woe is me, at least you're alive, healthy even," Emmett replied, in an unprecedented display of actual humanity. Jasper raised his eyebrow at the usually crude young man, "Rosie made me watch a documentary about starving children around the world," Emmett said with a shrug. Nothing particularly amusing could top a subject like that, and Emmett was met with a quiet crowd. "Where was I?" He asked, looking toward Jasper, as the moderator of all conversations.

"You were asking Benjamin as to why he currently attends Forks Academy," Jasper interjected casually, and turned another page.

"What he said," Emmett said, fixing his gaze on Benjamin. Edward glanced up at the boy through between the table and his elbow. He was curious to get answers too.

"I…ah," Benjamin shifted uncomfortably in his chair, as most people did when faced with questions from Emmett McCarty, "My dad wants me to get a better education, I guess," The boy said, but his eyes looked anywhere but at Emmett. Edward found it strange.

"Forks specializes in sporting achievements," Edward muttered, and wondered if anyone would actually listen. Benjamin's eyes bugged out and then, his cheeks flushed. Edward ducked his head, feeling that odd burn of attraction once again.

"Well, he went here when he was a boy," Benjamin said, after a short time, "I know it's a long way from Ari…Indiana, but…" Benjamin shrugged and offered a slightly awkward smile.

Emmett guffawed, and the table shuddered, "Dad only sent me because Eddy can't handle being alone at school."

"Emmett," Edward grumbled warningly. God, he loathed being called Eddy, Ed, Eduardo, or any other kind of warping of his name. It wasn't like Edward was particularly hard to say, and Emmett wasn't a toddler anymore who couldn't get his w's out.

"It's nice here," Emmett said, glaring hard at Edward for interrupting, "Although it would be better if there was more time to see Rosie," Emmett continued with a pout.

"Who's Rosie?" Benjamin asked, with what sounded like a healthy curiosity, but Edward was annoyed to see the two getting along.

"My sister," Jasper piped up, before Emmett could describe Rosalie with terms of boob-endearment.

"We've been dating for just over four months now, ever since Jazzy here and Rose moved up from the deep, deep South," Emmett proclaimed in a dreamy tone, "She's got this fantastic set of ti -" Emmett began, but was swiftly cut off by Jasper, who all but growled.

"Emmett, verbal filter," Jasper drawled, but his eyes fixed hard on Emmett, enough to make Sasquatch shake slightly, "My Rosie is a lady."

"With a damn fine ass," Emmett muttered additionally under his breath and Jasper's eyebrow twitched dangerously. Emmett stammered to find a new topic, "So, do you have any brothers or sisters?" Emmett asked Benjamin.

"Um," Benjamin was stalling, apparently hiding some kind of mental deficit, Edward thought.

"Is Jacob your brother?" Edward piped up, hating seeing that awkward look on the boy's face, and eager to have the conversation over as quickly as it started. Benjamin's eyes fell to him.

"Boyfriend," Benjamin blurted and then flushed and stuttered. Edward's heart thumped in his chest, "I mean, he's my sister's boyfriend," Benjamin covered, with his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "He's a real asshole," Benjamin said, rolling his eyes, "Just a sister, Bella. How'd you know Jake?" Benjamin asked, casting a suspicious eye over him that made Edward feel a little ill.

"You said his name last night in your sleep," Edward blurted, but the words came out quickly and mangled together, and Benjamin's eyes grew wide and opened his mouth to say something and –

Well, the inappropriately loud, loud-speaker had an announcement to make.

"This is the last notification of auditions for The Twelfth Night," The loud-speaker voice declared, and everyone was clutching their ear-drums in agony, "Sign-up sheets are still located outside the English and Drama staffrooms. Please refrain from putting graffiti the sheets," The voice was terribly bored, and Edward soon recognized it as Mr. Harriet's teaching assistant, Morag, "Auditions will take place this afternoon at three-thirty, please arrive at the performance hall at three-ten. That is all."

The blasting of sound left the patrons of the cafeteria with ringing ears, and only piled up on Edward's dilemma head-ache. Of course, Emmett, who Edward wasn't entirely certain was all human, maybe part-sasquatch, recovered first and chuckled deeply.

"Like I'd ever be caught dead doing that," Emmett bellowed, and laughed loud and made Edward's head hurt. Jasper snorted at the thought and even Benjamin joined in, chuckling.

Edward found the noise pleasant, not ear-splitting and he found himself admiring Benjamin's features, albeit slightly girly, and that sting of attraction was back again. He growled, and buried his face back in his crossed arms, covering his ears.

That was it, he decided, Edward was going to find a girl to make-out with.

I've been busy, busy working with joyindenver on her SVM story Unwrapped. I suggest you check her stuff out.

A/N: I would like to thank the unknowing boys who provided a base for manly, obnoxious behavior for me to write about. Your stupidity has been invaluable. :).

Also, I want to apologize for not realizing that it is in fact a new year, and not posting. I hope to continue this regularly, but I can't make any promises. Thank you to everyone who reviews and supports this story, without it, I'd probably just become a crazy cat lady. I also want to apologize for the Canada joke, and anything else I make that is utterly offensive, I didn't do it, it's Edward and Bella. They made me.

P.S: Look at all the words!

Pain In My Heart – Otis Redding.