Before I start my drable on "Learning to Say No" let's start with the "official" summary by the author:

Bella's attempts to remain uninvolved in the social dramas of FHS are foiled the minute Lauren Mallory whispers, "Apparently Edward Cullen has a bit of a thing for you . . ."

It's been awhile since I've read a high school centric fic, I wanna say maybe the last ones I've read were "The Elite" by FateofGabriel (which is amazing and you should check it out..the Whitlock brothers are *sigh* delicious) and our very own Imwiththevamps08's "Bitter Sweet Symphony", so it was a nice change of pace. I'll admit I was a little worried about starting the fic because I know a lot of high school fic tends to get cliche and whatnot, but "Learning to Say No" actually kept me wanting to read more.

The story is centered around Bella who is her usual clumsy, word vomiting self and her adventures in finding herself, on several occasions, drunk and flirty with Edward. Their relationship develops backwards and drunken forays come first before they even go out on a date. Throw in Lauren and Jessica trying to sabotage everything, one James trying to fuck with Bella's mind, a dash of big brother Emmett and a not so bitchy big sister Rosalie and blend with an adorable pairing of Alice and Jasper...you've got the side characters who are there every step of the way.

We had reached the kitchen and he offered, “Here, let me find a chair for you to—“

“Hey, I can sit on the counter like anyone else,” I interrupted, clumsily pulling myself onto the counter. It put me on direct eye-level with him, which was nice; he was so tall I usually had to crane my neck to see up his nose. Now I could stare into his eyes, a vibrant green that seemed to shimmer under the lights. I watched him closely as he pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and grabbed a bag of pretzels, opening both before thrusting them at me.

“Drink, eat, it’ll help settle your—“

“I know what to do,” I insisted, taking a deep swig of the water. I could feel his eyes on my throat as I drank and became all too aware of the flirtiness of my position, sitting on the counter in my almost non-existent skirt with my knees apart, Edward standing in front of me. How easily he could take a step forward and be pressed up against me, be wrapped up in my legs, be tracing circles along my collarbone with his tongue.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Sorry! I was thinking dirty thoughts. I mean – fuck,” I laughed at myself. “Oh, it’s like the filter is just gone.”

He grinned like an older teacher humoring their pupil, “That’s okay. You can think all the dirty things about me that you want; I don’t mind.”

“Who said they were about you?” I quipped, lifting an eyebrow in what I hoped looked seductive and not just uncomfortable. I looked up at him as I took another sip of my water and kicked my legs a bit on either side, feeling like I needed to be moving. The startled expression on his face made me laugh this time. Was he uncomfortable? Could Edward Cullen be made to feel uncomfortable?

“Well, ah . . .” he let out a huff of air and ran his fingers through his glorious hair. “I guess no one.”

“You know,” I began, but then forgot what I was saying when he looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. There was something so endearing about his perfect face, so captivating about the heaviness of his brow over such bright eyes. His jaw was magnetic north and my eyes couldn’t stay away. I wanted to do dirty things to him and then talk to him about . . . oh, I don’t know, art or music or movies or something. I wanted to screw his mind. And then do more dirty things to him.

“I know . . .”

“You aren’t what I expected, Edward Cullen.”