A Constant in The Darkness

Chapter Three - And if You Care, Don't Let Them Know

Darlings,

I have to say I am overwhelmed by lovely reviews from you readers and such kindness from the gems at The Twilight Sisterhood, esp britpacksuccubus, for recommending my story! I found a new support group lately, and have to send my love to Jezzeria for setting that up for us addicts. Also, my main squeeze, n7of9 for pimping my fic and for the lovely lickable pics of Rob. And misforMarisa, your icons are so amazing, I'm getting greedy! More!

The dears over at Project Team Beta are magic, and I promise to read up on semicolons and commas. It's just so damn confusing.

All Bella this time. Don't worry, Edward will get his turn.

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

BPOV

I am such an idiot. I cannot believe I fell into him. I was in the produce aisle, planning on slipping in to get a basket of strawberries when the toe of my sneaker caught on the lip of a plastic mat. I hit him hard, my chin slamming into the center of his back, causing my teeth to knock together, and stunning me momentarily.

But that was nothing compared to the pain of the humiliation I experienced when he turned around. I don't even remember what I said, probably mumbled a slur of profanities, refusing to meet his eyes, hoping I could just grab the baneful berries and leave.

My proximity allowed me to catch the fragrance emanating from his entire being and at once I was overwhelmed. He smelled absolutely delicious, almost herbal, like lilac infused honey warming in the summer sun. I inhaled deeply, attempting to fill my head with his invigorating aroma as I stifled a contented sigh. My head was clouded and I struggled to remain lucid.

Then he spoke, velvet oozing from those lips, smoldering and musical with a hint of a smirk in his voice. I didn't register what he had said, just relished in the quiet beauty and prayed he would speak again.

I was still staring at the floor, noticing his plain, black sneakers blending in with his slightly snug black jeans. My gaze moved involuntarily upward, and my eyes were forced to follow. His white, threadbare T-shirt clung to every ripple of his lean stomach and chest, a light trail of hair peaking between his collarbones. He was wearing a black and white plaid shirt, unbuttoned, and a blue industrial jacket. I took in every inch of his tall, lanky frame, chewing my lip to keep from running my hands across his sculpted stature.

I finally met his face and luckily the human body is equipped with an involuntary muscular system for lung, heart and brain function, because as soon as his eyes filled mine, I was unable to control anything. My autonomic nervous system took over, quickening my heart rate, making breathing unbearable, dilating my pupils, and I'll let you guess which of the four "F's" I was leaning towards. "You turn me on, I'm a radio…"

He was just so agonizingly beautiful. His strong jaw was covered in stubble, his full lips, smirking, revealing perfectly even white teeth. He had dark eyebrows, heavily resting on the most viscous green eyes I'd ever seen. I tried to participate in the verbal exchange but I couldn't find the words, which was painfully obvious as I faltered through the calamity of conversation. I watched him bring his graceful fingers to his hair, and immediately I was envious of that hand and the gentle, nurturing caresses it bestowed on the tangle of browns and reds. His hair swirled and flowed in gentle waves and curls, and my fingers trembled to reach out and stroke it. "I want to talk to you, I want to shampoo you…"Joni's words were flooding through me now, adding a delicate soundtrack.

"Your shirt. The Stones, right?" He was looking at my shirt. I suddenly wished I wasn't so lacking in the mammary department. I seriously have no boobs, my body stuck in pre-pubescence. I hardly even wore a bra anymore. I could feel the exposing blush creeping up my neck and flooding my cheeks. I mumbled more apologies, feeling utterly idiotic and foolish.

"You're Chief Swan's daughter, Isabella?" He knows my name? Holy shit. He continued to try to make awkward small talk, and maybe even attempted to flirt. It was all lost though, because I just couldn't help but focus on the shapes his lips were making as he spoke; his melodious voice soft and quiet, easy and natural.

And then he was leaving. His face was contorted, a sneer playing on his lips now. He tossed a basket of strawberries in the cart and stalked off. What the hell? Did I say something offensive? I couldn't even tell you if I had. I was so completely befuddled by his mere presence, the ability to recall my previous behavior eluded me. Fucking pathetic. I didn't even know his name. I had to stop him, and I struggled to find my voice.

"Hey! What's your name?" Stupid, stupid, stupid Bella."Be prepared to bleed…"

The beautiful boy stopped and turned, distress intensifying his lovely features.

"Edward. Edward Cullen." And he hurried off before I could ask anything else of him.

Cullen? Cullen? I knew I'd seen those eyes before. The chick from the restroom; tiny little smoker girl. They have to be related, probably siblings? Same pale skin, same green eyes, same amazing bone structure. I was pretty sure he went to my school, seeing as how I had puked in front of his maybe sister in the ladies room earlier today.

Edward quickly rushed through the checkout line and was gone before I had made my way down the next aisle.

I just sighed, drowning in a self-pity cocktail; one part defeat, one part acceptance. How could someone like that even entertain an interest in someone like me? I mean, I had dated a couple guys back in Phoenix. I'd never had a real boyfriend or anything, thanks to my superb sense of self preservation. I just didn't want that rejection, and here it was, staring me in the face, mocking my futile attempts to remain unaltered by the exchange that I just had with that enigma of a human being.

Of course Edward Cullen would jet like that. Looking at it from his point of view, he was accosted and ogled, probably worried I was going to follow him out to the parking lot so I could smell him some more. It only solidified my resolve that a guy like that would date a beauty; someone sweet and perfect. I'm not exceptionally charismatic or witty. I'm not feminine or pretty or oozing with sexuality. I'm completely fucked up, with daddy issues and eating disorders, not to mention I have the body of a ten-year-old and a wicked case of the clumsies.

I quickly finished my shopping, trying to push that boy from my brain, and regain the shred of dignity that I had harbored for so long: detachment. If I don't care, they can't hurt me. It is my mantra, my solace, my poise. I am a Zen monk when it comes to love.

…

When I got to Charlie's house, I started a big pot of vegetable soup. When I was little and we had lived with Charlie, he had cooked our meals. I had learned a bit from him, like how to boil pasta and make a simple marinara. After we left, I began cooking my own meals. Renee was either working or too busy to cook, opting for a vast arrangement of chemically engineered and steroid infested garbage. I mean, I was eleven and I knew that shit wasn't good for me. I quickly learned how to make the basics, checking cookbooks out of the public library. After ninth grade, I stopped cooking, not really necessitating it any longer. Anything I could eat now didn't take much preparing and what was the use of putting all that effort into cooking a meal when I would inevitably end up puking it up later anyway?

When I finished the soup, I took some to Charlie, who was still upstairs in his room. He hadn't left that room, aside from bathroom breaks, since I'd gotten here. Charlie had been eating, sleeping, and sitting in that same spot. I knew he needed to get up, move around, but I couldn't find my place to voice this concern. That would require empathy and I just didn't want to give it. Don't get me wrong, I felt sympathy for his situation: a big, tough Chief reduced to a helpless, mopey invalid. He was incapacitated and dependent, unable to return to his position of proficiency. I knew Charlie loved being a cop, so much so he was able to totally disregard his wife and child to climb his professional ladder. I felt sorry for him, as a human being; but I couldn't feel care for him, as my father. So I would care for everything else. I would cook and clean and leave the majority of his care to his friends, his real family: Billy Black and the Clearwater's. It would be a comfortable arrangement, almost like I was house-sitting or a maid or something. This I could handle.

That evening I had to call Renee. I hadn't spoken with her since I got on that plane yesterday. I didn't really want to have this conversation. I knew it would be long, and full of questions that my answers wouldn't satisfy. Talking to Renee had turned tedious; I constantly struggled to find words that wouldn't raise any "red flags".

Finally, after exhausting all possible household duties, I dialed my mom's cell.

Renee answered, breathless and laughing. I could tell she'd been smoking.

"Hello?" My mom giggled into the phone.

"Mom, it's Bella."

"Bella! Hi, honey, I was going to call you. I just thought you needed a little time with Charlie," she soothed over the receiver. Yeah, why would a teenage girl going to live with her father that she hasn't seen in years need to talk to her mom? My mother was so clueless sometimes. "How is everything? How's Charlie?" Renee continued.

"Everything's fine, Mom. School's okay, boring, whatever. Charlie's recovering. He has help so I basically just take care of things around the house."

"The house? What does it look like? Is it still the same?" Renee was prying.

"Yeah, it looks the same, Mom." I sighed because this fact made it painfully obvious that Charlie had been sitting in the same position not only for the last two days, but for the last seven years. Everything in that house was the same as it had been the day we left. The pictures on the walls and mantle created a timeline of my childhood. Their wedding picture, still hung on the wall, was covered in a small film of dust and bruising behind the frame. The painted cabinets in the kitchen were yellowed and chipped, doors hanging slightly opened, and in need of new hinges. The stove stood abandoned, dusted over from lack of use. He must not cook anymore and I found myself wondering why. The old, secondhand furniture that they had purchased as newlyweds still furnished the living room. Even my bedroom still had the rocking chair my father had used to read me stories, play me songs on the guitar, and just fucking rock me to sleep.

"Bella, honey, are you there?" Yeah, I'm here. Barely.

"Yeah, Mom, I'm here." I needed to change the subject. "So how's packing going?"

"Oh, you know, slow. I have a lot of stuff packed away in this little house! I'm just taking it one day at a time. Phil's been great though, so helpful."

Phil doesn't really have a job, so he's around a lot.

"That's great, Mom." It was silent for a moment.

"Bella, are you eating?" Wow, is that concern in her voice?

"Right now, no. We had dinner earlier, though." I decided to be evasive. I don't really like to lie, explicitly anyways because I'm terrible at it, and I knew I couldn't fool her.

"Bella, don't be a smart ass." She saw through my articulated façade.

"I'm trying to eat, Mom. I had some fruit today, and a piece of pizza." And then I threw it up.

"Pills?" My mom pressed. Geez, what was this, twenty-questions? I really wasn't surprised, but it was annoying all the same.

"Mom, where could I even get pills out here?" Where could I get pills out here? I didn't really need them for the hunger anymore, but they did help me focus, making me feel productive by providing a little burst of liveliness in my otherwise sluggish step.

"Bella, I mean it, you'd better not be doing any of that shit anymore. Your dad needs you and I would die if something happened to you." Smoking weed always made her a bit overdramatic.

"Mom, relax. I'm fine. Everything's fine." I tried to assuage her fears. "I met some people, they're really nice. You know, just kinda cool." I hoped that sounded convincing.

"Okay, honey. You call if you need anything. I love you, baby," my mom gushed.

"Okay, love you too. Bye Mom." I hung up, exhausted from the exchange. I walked down the hall to see if Charlie needed anything before I went to bed. He was watching a baseball game, still in the same clothes from yesterday.

"Dad, you okay? Need anything?" I asked quietly, trying not to intrude.

He seemed surprised to hear me, slowly turning his gaze to mine, and looking me full in the face for the first time since I'd arrived. He stared at me for a moment, some foreign emotion that I couldn't place creeping behind his irises. I shifted in my stance, a bit uncomfortable with even this level of intimacy.

"I'm fine, Bella," he finally replied. He turned to watch his game again.

I started to leave, pausing in the doorway. "Good night, Dad," I said softly.

He didn't respond.

That night I showered and tried to find something to wear to school. I was going to have to break down and go shopping, maybe find a thrift store or something. I settled on my jeans again and a long sleeve thermal. I was going to have to do laundry every night this week at this rate.

When I finally lay down to sleep, wrapped in flannel, my empty abdomen aching in triumph, I found my mind replaying the encounter with Edward Cullen over and over again, like some depraved mp3 player set on repeat meant to torment me. I wondered if I would see him tomorrow at school, and if he would remember me. He had known my name, making me hopeful that maybe I wasn't as inconsequential as I felt.

Then I remembered that everyone at school today had known my name, and it wasn't because they were smitten by my mere presence or mildly obsessed with me. It was because I was a freak, a scandal, someone new to toy with. I was only special out of circumstances beyond my control and that shit wasn't going to last. Pretty soon, they will forget me. They will realize that I'm just some dumb-shit girl, boring old brown Bella.

Edward will forget. It will be like I never existed, like we never shared that moment in the produce section of the market. And it was a moment, I had to be honest about that, even to myself. I had felt…it, and I'm not sure what it is exactly, but it was intense and confusing. I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself in it, drowning and immersing in his scent, giving myself over to him completely.

Needing a distraction from my own inner monologue, I slipped my headphones into my ears and searched for Joni, "I found someone to love today…"

…

When I awoke in the morning, I just had to lay there a moment to remember where I was and what I was doing here. My sleep had been filled with visceral and surreal dreams, all of them involving Edward Cullen. I grasped to the fading imagery, a fantastic tapestry of black and white, oceans of thick green hues engulfing and tumbling, legs flailing and arms grasping as we refused to break the surface. The scent of strawberries and honey and lilac was so authentic that as I awoke, I licked my lips to see if I could still taste it. It was a most satisfying slumber.

I quickly got dressed for school, combing my hair into a long, heavy braid and checked on my father. Same spot, same clothes, same shit. I was going to have to say something soon if he didn't snap out of this funk. He needed to walk around or else he was going to get blood clots. Maybe I could talk to Sue Clearwater, it seemed he always listened to her.

When I arrived at school, I noticed Alice Cullen getting out of the passenger side of a silver Volvo. She was wearing another billowy blouse and a long green, gauzy skirt, very full and bohemian; her black Docs peeking from beneath the material as it swirled around her graceful gait. She was the only person I had ever seen that managed to look agile in big black boots. I parked and waited for her driver to exit the vehicle, hopefully confirming my sibling suspicions. Unfortunately, the driver side door never opened and I couldn't wait any longer. I grabbed my tote and my corduroy jacket from the passenger seat and walked briskly to class, disappointed in myself for stalking the Volvo driver.

The morning passed uneventfully. Jessica, who was in a couple of my classes, giggled and talked excessively and then there was Mike. Ah, Mike, the loveable little goof. I seriously thought about spending lunch in that bathroom.

I decided to spend lunch in the library instead. I carefully ditched Jessica after Spanish class, telling her I needed to research something or other and dashed out of class barely before the bell rang. I found the library easily and stepped inside.

Ahhh, the papery smell engulfed me as I walked through the glass doors. I love the smell of books, rustic, leathery and slightly dusty. I'd found a comfort in the escape that prose offered, allowing me to experience everything, to be everyone, go everywhere. I'd read all genres, but I have a special place in my heart for nineteenth century British literature, especially love stories written by unrequited women.

I pulled my book from my bag and sat at one of the tables. I opened the cover and sighed as I inhaled the pages. I made my way through the beginning chapters quickly, having read the novel dozens of times. I stopped when I got to the introduction of the protagonist's love interest. Edward Ferrars. Edward Cullen. A tangle of legs and arms and green and honey came flooding into my memory. I snapped the book shut. This is bad. I found my music, slipping the buds into my ears and pressed play. "It's loves illusions, I recall. I really don't know love at all."

I sat in the library, laying my head on the cool table, and wallowing in Joni's lyrical torment, dozens of haunting songs about lost and found love. I felt drained; the familiar burning in my stomach was annoyingly present today. Finally the bell rang and I welcomed the disruption.

I found my Advanced Biology class in the Science building, next to the school day smoking and now puking, bathroom. I had missed the day before, my first day, so I suspected the teacher had already pegged me for some sort of unmotivated slacker. I would have to work extra hard to prove him or her wrong. Despite my social and emotional deficiencies, I had always been a good student. School was just easy for me. I greedily soaked up the knowledge, again losing myself in the information and details, the distraction from my reality a welcome comfort.

However, I quickly found that this class was going to be a bit of a challenge. Distraction, bronze and tousled, was centered in my line of sight as I walked through the door towards the back of the classroom. Edward Cullen, smoldering in his dark blue jeans and snug gray T-shirt, was seated alone at a lab table, next to the center aisle in the furthest row in the back. I stared in contempt at the back of his head, unwillingly noticing how tiny tufts of copper curled around the base of his neck. I swiftly walked to the front of the room, approached the teacher's desk and handed him my schedule.

"Ah, Ms. Swan. Nice of you to show up today." Yep, unmotivated slacker. "I'm Mr. Banner and this is Advanced Biology. Here's the syllabus, take any open seat."

Excellent, I could choose a seat in the front and totally forget that the most intriguing person I'd ever come into contact with wasn't seated merely feet behind me. Maybe he wouldn't be such a distraction after all.

As I turned around, the class full now, I realized I was fucked. Yep, one fucking empty seat. Yep, right next to him. Really, Karma? Haven't I been good, lately? Kind of?

Still not meeting Edward's eyes, I walked to the table and plopped down my bag, slightly pouting. I sat down, trying not to breathe because I knew the moment I smelled him, I'd be unable to concentrate for the rest of the day. But you know, breathing is kind of essential, so I took a small gasp of air.

And there it was, sweet and delicious, saturating my senses and causing images of black and white and greens to swirl around me. Shit, I am going to fail Biology.

"Bella.." Edward said so softly in his harmonious voice, I almost didn't hear him. His tone was hard to place, questioning, recollection, longing and perhaps a bit of disdain. The look on his face as he had fled the market yesterday flashed through my mind. I turned my head sharply to look at him, hoping I wouldn't see that same sneer. I was immediately rewarded. His shocking face was flushed, his green eyes burning into my brown.

Edward was staring now, just staring at me. I couldn't peel my eyes away, couldn't break this…thing between us. It was kind of freaking me out, but hell if I was going to be the one to turn away from it. He, apparently, could turn away and did as Mr. Banner called the class to attention. I turned my head slowly forward, mirroring his stance, inhaling deeply ever so often in a pathetic attempt to keep a small portion of him all to myself.

Mr. Banner lectured for the first twenty minutes of class on Eukaryotic Gene Expression and then gave us an assignment to complete from the book. I wasted no time, frantically clinging to the busywork so as not to be tempted to look at him again.

Edward suddenly nudged my elbow with the end of his pencil. "Hey! What did you get for number six?" Shit, here comes the part of my day where I make an utter fool of myself. I was extremely glad, though, that I'd already had this lesson in Phoenix and was a bit knowledgeable about the subject matter.

Still not looking at him, I muttered, "It's on page 278."

"Oh. Um…thanks," he said quietly.

We worked for a few more moments in silence. I tried to forget Edward was there, but the scent gloriously invading my space was a constant reminder of his presence. I decided one look wouldn't hurt; I was almost finished with the assignment anyway. I glanced to my left, trying to be inconspicuous and was met with green. Edward was staring again. What the hell is his problem?

"Do you need help or something?" I said in a quiet voice, a tad too snarky.

"Um, no. I'm finished." He whispered back, smirking at me now. Great, he thought this was funny. "You might want to check number six though. I think you have the wrong answer." He smiled a dazzling flash of white, one corner of his flawless lips pulling up slightly higher than the other, leaning towards me now, that undeniable magnetism forcing us to bow together.

Smug bastard.

"Were you cheating off my paper?" I murmured, my pride slightly tarnished, a familiar heat burning my ears.

"Well, I hope not. My uncle will kick my ass if I blow my 4.0." Edward's nose was inches from mine now, his cool breath flooding my face. He was teasing me, mocking my intelligence. And for some reason this really pissed me off. I mean, I know I'm not pretty, or funny, or sociable, I don't even try to be. But I am smart. It's my thing, my classification, giving me a tiny place in this world where I belong, and he was taking that away from me. This, combined with the fact that his pretty, little, cocky face probably had never felt worthless or rejected just pissed me off.

"What, do you have like, multiple personality disorder or something? You're kind of acting like a schizo," I spat venomously, a little breathless from my brash.

Edward recoiled from my words, an excess of emotion flitting across his face: anger, fear, pain…acceptance, and then, nothing. He was a mask of cool collection, void of emotion, hard and empty.

And then Edward was gone. He closed his notebook and just left. This seemed to be becoming a habit for us; me acting like an idiot, and him tearing away from my presence like a bat out of hell. There is no "us" Bella, I chastised myself. I felt awful. Why did I say that? I was only slightly serious. He was acting bizarre, ignoring me one minute and insulting my intelligence the next. And what is it with the staring? It's enough to shake anyone's confidence and it really fucks with an over-analytical bulimic with an inferiority complex.

Still, he was obviously affected by what I had said. I had to get out of here. His scent still lingered in the air, taunting me, reminding me that I am a total fuck up.

Grabbing my tote, I walked to Mr. Banner's desk with my assignment. This was only going to further his negative opinion of me.

"Mr. Banner, I'm not feeling well. May I use the restroom?" I asked, a model of respect and decorum. "I'm finished with my assignment." I handed him the paper.

He grabbed my paper and inspected my answers. "Have you had this lesson before?" He eyed me suspiciously.

"Yes sir, at my old high school in Phoenix," I admitted.

"Very well," he sighed and waved a hand at me.

I rushed from the room. My face was flushed and hot tears were beginning to burn in my eyes. How do I always manage to make such a disaster out of everything? Edward was probably just trying to get a rise out of me, playing around, and I reacted like such a fricking girl. Ugh, I hated being so typical.

I headed to the bathroom behind the Science building. It was a pretty secluded location, perfect for smoking, puking…and now sulking and self-deprecation too. I had just turned the corner when I saw a couple leaning against the brick wall.

The guy was handsome, his chin-length twisted hair sticking out beneath his cap. His tall frame vested in a white pinstriped button-up shirt, and his sleeves rolled up around his biceps. He wore vintage jeans, a thick belt buckle and black boots. He had one hand on the wall, while the other palm softly cupped an adoring face, his thumb caressing her cheek, as if he had never held anything so precious.

I then recognized the shock of jet black. She was leaning against the wall, her fingers casually hooked in his belt loops. He was whispering something, staring into her face and they just looked so harmonized that I couldn't help but sigh at the exquisiteness of their intimacy.

He bent down, then, and placed a gentle kiss on each of her eyelids before tasting her lips delicately. It was probably the most beautiful kiss I'd ever witnessed. My chest just heaved, because I knew this would never be for me. I would never have that, that adoration and swelling of peace. "Love is touching souls…"

I must have sobbed out loud because at this moment, Alice turned, breaking her embrace to face me. A look of sheer panic clouded over her esteem and I saw her mouth form various profanities. Humiliated that I had been caught intruding on their very private exchange, I ran to the restroom and locked myself inside a stall. I sat on the toilet, tears falling freely now, hugging myself and rocking slightly.

A minute later I heard the bathroom door open and then the charming voice, "Bella?"

I didn't want to come out, but I figured I should apologize. I wiped my face and nose silently, trying to pretend the fact that I had been crying wasn't evident in the blotchy red and puffiness of my eyes and nose. Alice must have lit a cigarette; the earthy aroma was swirling inside the small room now. I stepped onto the toilet to shakily open the windows. Carefully climbing down, I unlocked the door and stepped out.

Alice was standing against the tile wall. I started to apologize but she stopped me.

"You look like shit." She handed me her cigarette. I took a long pull, letting it fill me up, before handing it back to her.

"I know." I leaned against the wall, next to her. "Sorry about that," I waved my hand to the door. "I'm just having a really bad day."

"That's two in row. Your track record's not looking so hot." Alice commented, exhaling. She looked over at me, the cigarette burning in her outstretched fingers, her arm crossed in front of her body. "Do you want to talk about it?"

God no, I do not want to talk about it. I took the cigarette from her hand, dragging in the flavor.

"It's nothing. I'm just homesick I guess." I really wasn't, but it seemed like a viable excuse for my behavior.

Alice smiled a small, knowing smile. "Yeah, me too."

I don't know why, but something about this confession made me want to explain, like maybe she could comfort me with her smokes and her sarcasm. I handed her back the cigarette. "Look, I'm just going through some stuff and I didn't mean to stare or watch or whatever. I'm not a freak or anything…that was just incredibly sweet."

Alice smiled again but it was hollow, not reaching her green eyes. She extinguished the cigarette after a final puff, turning to face me. "No one can know, Bella." She wasn't smiling anymore. "Please, promise me you won't tell anyone."

"Of course not, no worries. I don't really talk to anyone anyway." And when I do they end up running away.

She continued, "It's just, Jasper's a senior and I'm barely sixteen. My brother would fucking shit if he found out. He's not good at dealing with stuff. He'd probably try to kick Jasper's ass or get him arrested or something."

I almost snorted at the irony, but that would be misleading so I nodded in understanding instead. Her brother. He seemed to be the reason for a lot of anxiety lately.

"Thanks, Alice. I really appreciate this, the smokes and the talks." And I really did appreciate it. I'd never had a best friend. Angela had been an okay friend, but we weren't that close. She knew about the puking and the pills, but I had never told her anything about my dad and I really didn't know much about her either, come to think of it. I'd always just kind of known people and they just kind of knew me. But I hadn't ever really been known, as in silent conversations and not having to explain yourself or be ashamed of your most asinine behavior or thoughts and all the other shit that came with having a best friend. Alice had seen me cry, she'd seen me puke and we already had a secret. I don't know if you can really call someone your best friend after knowing them for two days, but right now Alice was the closet thing to a best friend I'd ever had.

"Anytime, Bella." Alice smiled again. She cocked her head to one side, pursing her lips. "Now, we need to fix your face."

Alice spent the next half hour pulling shit from her bag that no sane person would carry around with them all day. She dabbed some herbal ointment under my eyes and then rubbed some cream into my forehead, nose and chin, chatting quietly as she worked. She had a menacing amount of cosmetics tucked inside her bag, powders, creams and liquids in various shades and palettes. We talked about people at school, had a couple of smokes, and I was just itching to question her about her brother, but I didn't want to raise suspicions. I asked about Jasper instead.

"How long have you guys been seeing each other?" I asked through tight lips, my eyes watering. Alice was plucking my eyebrows now and that shit is painful.

"Um, only a couple of weeks. He's my cousin's girlfriend's twin brother." As if this explained anything. She must have seen the confusion on my face, because she continued to explain.

"We all hang out a lot. We were at Tyler Crowley's party a couple of weeks ago and this freshman, James, kept hitting on me, like all night. Wouldn't get a clue, you know? He had been drinking too much and started to get a little handsy. So Jasper punched him, like in the face. I'm not a fan of violence normally, but it was kind of heroic and old fashioned, like my honor was at stake or something. It was also totally hot." Alice was beaming now.

"Anyway, that morning we went to the diner for breakfast, like we always do after a party, and I snuck outside for a smoke. Jasper came out and…I …I don't know. He was always just kind of ideal, you know? Unattainable. But in that moment, I just knew. That sounds pathetic right? Okay, forget I just said that."

"Anyway," she continued, "Edward, my brother, is really overprotective. Oh, and he doesn't know I smoke either, so…" She made a face that clearly meant keep it hush. "Edward's just different. He's not a normal kind of guy. He's real intense and takes everything entirely too seriously. He's the most genuine person though and I love him, a lot. He just misunderstands things and overreacts."

Ah, the mother-load. I was listening so intently, I probably looked a little creepy. So, affirmative on the sibling status, I had definitely witnessed the overreaction and intensity first hand, and misunderstanding seemed to be the current running throughout our interactions. I pondered this in silence and Alice finished my brows.

"There. Perfect." I snorted at this. She handed me a small compact mirror. It wasn't so bad, the girly shit. My face did look better, no more red blotchiness, and not so pale. My eyes seemed to appear wider and my eyebrows were clean and arched.

Alice gasped suddenly and clutched my hand. "Bella! You have to let me read for you."

"What?" I asked.

"Tarot. I read Tarot cards. I'm pretty good; I may have a natural affinity for clairvoyance." She was totally serious. "You don't have to be psychic to read Tarot, but it helps in making predictions."

"Um, I don't know, Alice. I do have other classes to go to. I ditched gym yesterday, so I'm pretty sure I should go today," I responded. I really did need to go to class, as much as I despised gym.

"Yeah, I should go to class too. Tomorrow! Sit with us at lunch and I'll read for you. It's an unearthly experience, I know you'll love it." Alice's enthusiasm was infectious.

"Sure. That sounds great." I would be having lunch with her tomorrow, which meant I would, maybe, also be having lunch with him. A small part of me wanted to avoid this; an even greater part was jumping up and down and praising God and Buddha and whatever other deity had graced me this day.

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A/N

Joni Songs referenced: (There's a ton this Chapter)

You Turn Me On, I'm a Radio


I Could Drink a Case of You


The Last Time I Saw Richard


Tin Angel


Clouds

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