Full Summary: Edward and Bella used to be best friends. They had grown up as neighbors, and their parents were all very close. Then, one accidental fight caused them to despise each other. Neither one remembers what exactly transpired between them, but they both think it was the other's fault. After a decade of fighting, they're paired to do the impossible in Health Class for a project worth half their grade-- forget their prejudices towards each other and take care of a fake baby. Disclaimer- I do not own Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, or Breaking Dawn. All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

CHAPTER 1: PLAYING BARBIE

Five children played in the back yard of a large white house owned by the attractive and young couple, Carlisle and Esme Cullen. Newly appointed Chief Charlie Swan, and his pretty eight year old daughter, Isabella, entered the yard, and Isabella instantly dashed off after seeing her best friend in the whole wide world—Edward Masen. Chief Swan strolled over to Carlisle, who was videotaping Alice Brandon and Rosalie Hale's dress-up fashion show on Esme's request. No fathers dared to come to these play-dates, knowing full well it was just an excuse to get mothers together and gossip. Charlie had only come to chat with Carlisle, feeling sorry for the only man stuck around squawking women. Renée had come early to help make appetizers, and she waved at her husband. He smiled in return.

"Wow, Emmett's getting so big," Charlie said, eyes growing wide at the sight of the largest of the children. Emmett wasn't just tall, he was wide, too. "He'd make a great football player."

"And Bella gets more beautiful every day," Carlisle complimented. Charlie glimpsed at his little girl, his only girl, with adoring eyes. She looked so much like her mother. He watched as she interacted with Edward in the sandbox far away from the others. He hadn't been the only one who noticed how strange the relationship was. While Alice and Rosalie automatically grouped together, Jasper and Emmett clicked, and they always played sports, while the girls chose playing with Esme's old clothes. Edward and Bella had a strange relationship. They isolated themselves, playing in more private areas, and were not as loud and giggly as the others.

"Edward and Bella are both mature for their age," Carlisle said, reassuring Charlie's worried eyes that watched his daughter and her friend. "I think that's why they're so close." It was true. Bella was very responsible and not as whiney as most kids her age. Edward seemed to be the same.

Just then, Edward reached out and pulled on Isabella's ponytail. She whirled around, shovel in hand, gasping in pain, and the toy slipped from her hands, hitting Edward square in the face. He grunted and pushed her down. She started crying, but arose from lying in the sand to shove Edward. "Oh, dear!" Elizabeth, or Liz, Masen jumped to her foot and ran over to wear Edward was fuming at Bella. Her eyes were filled with tears and anger, and he was sitting on the ground incredulous that Bella had hurt him.

"Edward Anthony Masen, you apologize right now!" she scolded. Charlie trailed behind her and helped Bella up. She was crying, and he didn't feel like punishing her, but he sternly followed Liz's example.

"Bella, you tell Edward you're sorry for throwing a toy at him." She bit her lip and mumbled an apology, avoiding Edward's furious gaze.

He apologized, too, but it wasn't sincere. He was mad at Bella for getting him in trouble. They said they forgave each other, but they were lying. Neither would forget their hurt at that moment, because the little incident turned into a full-blown rivalry by the time they turned ten.

***

"Rise and shine, Bella!" The high-pitched, tinkling coo of my best friend, Mary Alice Brandon, awoke me. I groggily glanced at the digital clock to my left. My eyes were thick with sleep, and it took me a moment to make out the time. Once I finally managed to distinguish the numbers, I had to rub my eyes to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. It was just over six o'clock! How could Alice be here at such an ungodly hour? I buried my face into my pillow. Something nudged my side, and I attempted to swat it away, feeling nothing but air. "It's the first day of our senior year, and you promised you would let me choose your outfit," she reminded me. I suddenly regretted my promise I had only made to appease Alice. Her tiny, but unbelievably strong, arms shook me, causing any further sleep to be impossible.

"Fine, fine," I surrendered, slowly rising from my comfortable bed. Alice stood, spiky-haired and abnormally eager, with two shirts in her hand. I didn't even half to see the label to know they were both extremely expensive and likely some high-end designer brand. But, what else did I expect? It was Alice, and she (unlike me) thought you needed to look your best despite if there was a special occasion or not. And, the first day of senior year was a major event in Alice's eyes.

"You know how you say I'm 'pushy'?" she asked, as if it was an unrealistic concept. I raised an eyebrow and nodded, too exhausted to retort. My mind hadn't recovered from my rude awakening, and I didn't feel like thinking up some witty comeback. "Well, I'm going to let you have a choice in the matter—despite your lack of enthusiasm." She raised the two tops higher to meet my eye level.

"Option A," she announced, wiggling her right hand. The shirt was horizontally striped with a light shade of pink followed by a darker magenta. The sleeves fell a few inches past my elbow. The plunging neckline was a little too low for my personal taste, but modesty was never really an issue with Alice, and she hardly considered it for me as well. She let me observe the shirt for a moment, absorbing its pure brilliance—to her, at least—before raising the alternative. I knew immediately which preference I wanted.

"Option B." My mouth dropped open when I caught the first glimpse. The shirt was a very thin and very transparent. I could see through the shirt, straight to the wall! The sleeves were long but offered no protection against any weather in Forks; the flimsy material would be pointless. Had Alice lost her mind? I realized a second too late that she was planning on me to reject the second shirt instantly. I really had no voice in the matter—I would wear whatever Alice settled on. Frustrated, I snatched Option A from an extremely smug Alice, with incoherent grumblings ensuing. Alice's pleasant mood wasn't discouraged by my mumbles as I placed the shirt on my bed. Honestly, I liked it, but I was too stubborn to admit it.

"Alright, and since you love your old Wal-Mart bought Levi's so much," she started, voice filling with disgust as she spoke of the dreaded store, "I thought you could wear those. Distressed jeans—they're gonna be huge." She said the second part with such certainty that I didn't even question. I had discovered from an early age not to argue with Alice on issues other than shopping. She had some weird sixth sense oracle thing going for her. She just guessed everything so accurately it had scared me at first. I eventually learned to love the ability.

I started to undress. I had been best friends with Alice since I was five, and I had grown comfortable after hundreds upon hundreds of sleepovers at her lovely house across the street. I was finally able to do so without blushing, though sometimes I did feel a bit self-conscience in her presence. She was so beautiful and remarkable while I was just some average girl with not one extraordinary quality. Well, besides my love of cooking and literature.

"Oh, I took the liberty of buying this for you at Victoria's Secret this weekend. You can thank me later," she giggled, handing me the lacy bra. I glared at the girly material, and I picked it up with the tip of my pointer finger and thumb. Alice rolled her eyes at my overexaggeration towards the underwear. I put it on quickly, trying not to think about how I was wearing some sort of fancy contraption made to make hormonal boys drool. When I looked at my reflection, I gasped.

"I have cleavage," I said, twisting my body, sure it was an illusion. Alice snorted and mumbled something like, "Who would have guessed?"

"Don't you look nice," Rosalie commented, looking at my chest imparticular, causing my face to turn warm. She was sitting in my shabby kitchen drinking coffee she must have previously bought. She took a long sip, sighed in content, and then eyed my outfit with a more critical eye. "The stripes are nice, and the V-neck makes your neck look elegant and graceful."

"That's good, because my feet don't," I mumbled, frowning at the awkward body parts that refused to operate properly. It was commonly known throughout all of Forks that I could manage to take out half of the student body, and myself, by playing one inning of baseball in P.E. Rosalie chuckled in what I assumed was agreement.

Rosalie had wavy, long locks of flowing golden hair. She was the most stunning person I had ever met. She had impeccable style sense that had come from years of analyzing Teen Vogue with Alice. She had a body that could be on the cover of any magazine, and she could make even a brown bag look amazing on her! She acted vain, and on first impression she usually noticed flaws first. Normally, we would have never been friends, but we had become close after we realized what we had in common. Now, we were the best of friends. She was feisty and fiery, and no one besides her loving boyfriend Emmett could handle her demands. It's amazing how much he brings out the best in her. He was the only one who could make her burst into laughter when she was angry. She seemed so lighthearted and carefree when he's around. In so many ways, they're perfect for each other. And, they don't bother to hide their passion for each other. It's very sickening considering that Emmett is my cousin.

Emmett faithfully sat beside her, looking foreign in Charlie's usual spot. Emmett had curly dark hair with deep dimples and muscles that put wrestlers and body builders to shame. He had this boy-like quality that shone in his personality, but he looked more man than boy. He was only eighteen, and he could pass for a teacher at Forks rather than a student. He goofed whenever he could, and he never said no to any dare.

Charlie had only one little sister, my aunt Esme, who he protected fiercely growing up. They had been very close, and she still visits him frequently. When Esme and her husband Carlisle realized she was infertile, Charlie had been there to help her through the tough time. It was hard for her to be around him since he had been fortunate enough to have his own baby—me—but she adored me like I was her own. My third word, after "Daddy" and "Mom" was "Esme". She had been overjoyed, I heard later, and she wanted a baby of her own. Thus, she adopted my lovable cousin Emmett. Emmett was about a month older than me, and he was twice my size. Esme fell in love when she saw him at the orphanage, and Carlisle reveled in his charm as well.

He kept sending wistful glances to the oven behind him, trying to hint that he was hungry. Emmett always spoke his mind (there was no filter from his head to his mouth), so it was only a few seconds later he announced his current well-being. Which, as I presumed, was starving. "Hey, Bellaboo," he started, using his favorite nickname for me. He never said it in public on my request. I loathed the stupid name that made me sound like I was five. "Could you possibly make your favorite cousin some eggs? Oh, and bacon. Or sausage—sausage is good. But, I can't eat sausage without pancakes. Waffles would be okay, I suppose." I glowered at his tone. He spoke like he expected me to cook for him! My anger dimmed as I realized who had asked for food. Emmett will be Emmett, and I couldn't help his horrifying manners. He wasn't known for them, although Esme had raised him to be nothing but courteous.

"Can you settle for bacon and eggs? Alice and Rose still have to do my hair and—" I paused to shudder—"makeup." He gasped overdramatically adding to my reaction of the word, which in my opinion, was synonymous with torture. To me, shopping was a curse, and makeup was as foul as any swear. Rosalie clucked her tongue, and Alice grabbed both of my shoulders, guiding me up to the bathroom I shared with Charlie. She had cluttered the sink with tons of bottles and lotions and dangerous looking applicators. How could women walk around with all of these things on their faces every day? I had tried liquid foundation once—Rose's request, of course—and it had felt so cakey and odd to me, like I was wearing a mask.

"Alice, can we go for a natural look please?" I basically begged, using my best pleading voice. She looked at my reflection thoughtfully and then slowly nodded. In my eyes, natural was no makeup.

"Hmm. You'll have to ask Rose; she opted to be your makeup artist today," she answered, and I slumped in my seat. Rosalie tended to be more lenient to stand out and be flamboyant whereas I always attempted to blend in and mix with the sidewalk of Forks. I'd end up looking like a prostitute or a drag queen! But, when someone hangs out with people as beautiful as Rosalie and Alice, they will be noticed. People always wondered how I, boring and average Isabella Swan, could possibly fit in with such beautiful people. I honestly didn't know the answer, but I never felt left out when I was with them. They were my best friends, and they understood me. I had actually found a niche where I belonged. I huffed in the small stool Alice miraculously fit into the cramped room.

"Rosalie!" Alice called, and immediately I heard Rosalie's heels hit the linoleum in the kitchen in a steady rhythm. She ran up the stairs in her perilous stilettos, a skill I had not yet mastered. She appeared in a matter of moments and entered the already stuffed space. She pondered for a moment, examining my reflection. I felt like a science experiment by the way she was analyzing me. I fidgeted and twisted my fingers, not daring to make a comment and interrupt her concentration. Alice started whispering softly to her certain suggestions, and Rosalie nodded in consideration. I didn't understand anything they were talking about, so I just gave up and hoped the anguish would be over soon.

Rosalie clapped her hands in satisfaction and Alice giggled in anticipation. There was a slight hint of mischief that particularly made me a tad bit wary. Who was I kidding? I was incredibly nervous! I was debating with myself whether I could make a quick run to the truck in time to speed away or stay in the chair and endure in silence. I mulled over my options. If I tried to run, Rosalie would be sure to catch me, even in her ridiculously high shoes. Plus, Alice had probably already hid my keys. I sighed, officially deciding the smartest decision was to stay and quietly pout. I kept sending fleeting glances to the doorway though.

"I like Alice's idea on the whole 'natural beauty' thing," she announced, mostly to me. They were like doctors who explained a future procedure step-by-step to a worried patient. "So, I'm going to only apply mascara and nude gloss. Alice talked me out of the eyeliner, though a thin coat wouldn't hurt. We're still negotiating," she said sourly, perfect lips pursing towards the end. "Maybe a little cover-up, but your skin is so pretty, and I would hate to hide it! I'll probably just use it to get rid of those dark circles under your eyes."

"Those would be the result of being awoken too early. Who let you guys in anyway?" I muttered against my better judgment. Rosalie narrowed her violet eyes at me. I didn't flinch away but yawned. Her lips twitched slightly and turned into a small smile.

"Emmett has a key, remember?"

"I thought it was for emergencies only," I spoke up uselessly. Damn Charlie for thinking Emmett was responsible to handle a key wisely!

"It's the first day of the best year of our whole lives and you want to ruin it by wearing a ratty t-shirt and jeans. This is an emergency," Alice retorted while Rosalie nodded her head. I gave up and closed my eyes as the prodding began. I took a shower last night, and Alice immediately began working on my hair. She decided to keep it straight, but she wanted to add more volume and shine. She picked up her curling iron and started too close to my roots for comfort. I grumbled uneasily, but she placed a comb on my scalp to protect it from the frightening hair tool. Rosalie dug her finger into some cream and began rolling her finger under my eye. After a few moments, I stopped paying attention and let my mind drift off. I thought about Renée, and how I needed to email her back soon. She fretted whenever it took me more than a few weeks to reply. But, she shouldn't be so anxious. I had only returned from visiting her for the summer a little over two weeks ago. I suddenly missed my mother's face. She had been my best friend, and leaving Forks at my age of ten had been devastating. If Alice and Rose hadn't been there for support, I might have broken down. But, I needed to be there to take care of Charlie. We were still close, and I still adored her scatterbrained and ability to throw herself into any random activity she could. She currently had been introduced to yoga by a friend of hers, and she had taught me a few moves. Or, tried to teach.

"All done! You can open your eyes now," Rosalie said, and I slowly fluttered them open, afraid of what I might be in that mirror.

What I did see was what actually resembled me—not some beautiful stranger. It was a brighter, prettier version of me. I looked like I might actually fit in with Alice or Rosalie, like I could be seen with them and feel worthy of being their friend. My hair was bouncy and elegant, and I hesitantly ran my hand through it, feeling its softness. Alice's face shone with eagerness and enthusiasm. She rocked on her heels. "Well, what do you think?" I pretended to ponder her question—as if I couldn't be amazed by their work!—but my grin gave me away. Alice and Rosalie cheered, and Emmett barged in.

"What's with all this commotion?" he asked jokingly. Then, when he saw me he whistled. "Do I need to bring a bat with me to fight off all the guys that will be falling all over you?" I rolled my eyes at his protectiveness.

"Save the bat for Rosalie's admirers," I said. He looked her up and down, and I nearly gagged. Sometimes, it got a little awkward when Rosalie would fawn over Emmett. He was my cousin, not biologically, and I thought of his as more of a brother. But, then again, Alice had been steady with Rosalie's brother for years now. If she could get used to it, I guessed I would have to as well.

"I don't know, I'll probably need more than just a bat by the way you're looking today," he said, eyeing her appreciatively. She blushed and whispered something I didn't want to hear in his ear. I had never seen Rosalie blush outside of Emmett's presence. He flattered and charmed her like no other.

"Hate to break up this cute love fest, but we need to show Bella her shoes. And I swear, they are comfortable tennis shoes," Alice said regretfully. I lightened up at the last part. No heels? Was I dreaming? Maybe senior year wouldn't be so bad.

The shoes were Nike, and the pink swoosh matched the color of my shirt. Sparkles surrounded the Nike logo, and I thought about how flashy they seemed to be. They weren't as bad and overly pink as I expected though, so I sighed in relief. "Thank you both. You truly are miracle workers." Alice shrugged modestly, and Rosalie bowed for applause. Emmett enjoyed the view he had from behind her, and as soon as she was standing straight, he turned her around and attacked her lips with his own.

"I think I'm going to be sick," I murmured to Alice. She was watching with admirable eyes while I stared at the repulsive scene. Her lip pouted slightly.

"I think it's cute," she defended them as Rosalie threw her arms around Emmett's neck. I shuffled my feet uncomfortably, feeling awkward and perverse to just be observing them. "And," she said suggestively, turning to look at me, "you won't think it's so gross when you find somebody that you love. You'll understand." She patted my shoulder in a comforting, not condescending, way. Why had they all been so lucky to find their perfect soulmates at such an early age? Most people would say, "Oh, they're young, they'll be over it soon," but that was never the case. It had been deemed fate that they should all find the truest bliss with another person. It was only times like these, when they would give each other goo-goo eyes, I didn't feel like I fit in. I knew they felt bad when they would start double-dating, and they couldn't invite me to tag along. I pretended to be nonchalant and brush it off; I didn't want to ruin their good time, and I hated the sympathetic looks they gave me. I wasn't a pity case, and I didn't mind being single.

"Rose! Emmett!" I yelled, as it began to get more physical. At this rate, they would have been having sex on my bed in less than five minutes. They broke away apologetically, and Rosalie ran her fingers through her hair and straightened her now wrinkled shirt. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my raincoat, heading down the stairs. Senior year was supposed to be the best year of any teenager's life, and I wished for it to live up to its expectations. Besides, Alice was never wrong, so how could I doubt her?

I would soon realize that I was dead wrong.

Foreshadowing?? Well, what do you think? Please review! It's my first chapter, and I'm new to fanfiction, and any feedback would be nice! I'll get to some Edward and Bella next chapter, this is just a starter. By the way, Edward and Bella had been friends since Edward was born (Bella is older), and they both still remember being friends vaguely, but they don't remember the exact moment they stopped. The beginning of this chapter was when they started hating each other. Again, please review!