Beep. Beep. Beep!

I groaned, rubbing my eyes tiredly. I slapped the alarm clock on my bedside table and rolled to the side of my bed, where I sat up. I surveyed my small, walk-in closet sized room. The dark hard wood flooring was scuffed up, the small, furry blue rug was frayed, and the dirty clothes hanging off the small headboard were wrinkled beyond repair. I couldn't even see out of my pencil box sized window, which meant it was snowing.

Great.

I sighed and stood up, craning my neck slightly so my head didn't hit the ceiling. I pulled my school uniform from the metal pole that ran across the top of my room, serving as my closet. I managed to get my undershirt, long sleeve polo, tie, and sweater on without a problem. It was the pants and the socks that would be difficult. Last time I tried to put my pants on in here, I bruised my knee on my small, wooden beside table. The time before that, when I snuck into the hall to put them on, my nana came out of the bathroom and screamed, causing the rest of the household to rush to the hallway, where I was standing in my underwear trying to get my pants on.

Neither experience sounded desirable, but the bathroom line was huge and I was running late. I settled for putting my pants on in my room, where I miraculously only walked away with a small cut on my ankle. When I got downstairs, I was fully dressed, with my backpack zipped and ready for school. I crossed the small kitchen in about six strides, and was just about to leave when my mother called to me.

"Edward? You're going without breakfast?" she asked, her voice drenched with the sound of "mother".

"It is the most important meal of the day!" added Aunt Daisy.

"I want corn," chimed Uncle Chip, his voice demanding.

"Uh, I'm late. Sorry all. 'Bye, mom," I added, kissing her on the cheek.

Before anyone could response, I was out the side door and in the small alley on the side of our town house. That's right. Our town house had a side alley. One could reasonably argue over the fact that a "town house" was supposed to be connected to another, and I'd have to agree.

But that's the New Forks quality of living for ya'.

The alley was only around two feet wide, and I had to take off my backpack and walk sideways to avoid getting my uniform dirty, but I liked it. It was cool.

I ducked to avoid the clothes hanging from the line above me. Not that my hair could possibly get any messier, but I liked it that way.

"Hey, Edward," said my next-door neighbor, Angela, from a bench on her small front porch. I smiled and waved. Angela was nice and very sincere, but painfully shy. Though her maturity and state of mind alone made her nice to be around. Our town disgusted her just like it did me.

"See you in Biology," I added, and she smiled and nodded. I walked down the street and to the corner, where I stopped and waited. I checked my watch: 8: 27. Gabe was late, as usual.

Five minutes later, I saw him jogging towards me, his tie not even put on yet.

"Late night?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Didn't hear my alarm. Sorry, man," he replied, gasping for breath. Gabe was a swimmer for our school, but that didn't mean he could run several blocks with a backpack and not break a sweat.

"It's alright. Let's just hurry. School starts in about -," I paused to check my watch, "eleven minutes."

"Plenty of time," Gabe said, smirking.

As we walked the few blocks to the school, we discussed homework, family, anything we could think of to try and distract us from looking around. Gabe was like Angela and I in the fact that he couldn't look around without wincing.

You see, New Forks was… industrialized. When the timber stocks grew tremendously in the early nineties, the logging business skyrocketed. Everyone wanted a share, and that gave companies more then enough funds to harvest perfectly healthy trees without bothering to stop. When all Northeast America had been pretty much wiped of all forests, the businesses turned to the Pacific Northwest. Washington was a prime target thanks to its constant rain and abundant forests. In a matter of months, what had once been lush forests became useless soil. But that didn't stop the companies from building. The Washington climate was perfect for their business, so they paved everything, built buildings, etc. What had once been a small, peaceful town had, in turn, become a booming economic center. Workers from Oregon and Northern California, plus Washington natives, all flocked to the area. Over a decade later, the entire Olympic Peninsula was full to bursting of factories (billowing smoke stacks included), condominiums, strip malls, grocery stores, and town houses shoved into any nook they would fit in.

My dad had been one of those to migrate to the business, regardless of overpopulation or not.

Sighing in defeat, I allowed myself to glance around and take it all in. It was still just as bad.

"Never gets any better," Gabe said.

"No, it doesn't," I agreed.

Moments later we were entering the gates of the wrought iron fence that surrounded Mother Mercy's Preparatory School. The school, U-shaped and brick, was actually very scenic. The courtyard in the center even was complete with a grand fountain.

"But this helps, right?" I asked, hoping to life his moods.

"Oh yes. Hell disguised as Heaven. A pretty little lie right outside our classrooms windows," he lamented. I raised my eyebrow at him, caught off guard. Sure, the city always affected him. But never like this.

---

"I hate chemistry," muttered my lab partner.

"As do I," I replied, sighing.

Our concoction, which was supposed to be clear, was now tinted a heavy violet. It bubbled viciously, steam billowing through the thin top of the beaker.

"Huh. I think we're a little off," my partner, a frizzy haired girl, announced.

"Just a little," I said snidely.

I didn't mean to come off rude or condescending, but when she had insisted that we add extra steel wool to the bottom of the test tube for mixing, I had warned her that it'd come out wrong.

"It always works," she'd promised.

Secretly, I could tell she was trying to impress me. She was one of those girls who weren't "lame" enough to be too embarrassed to flirt, but not "cool" enough to think she was above me. Throughout the year I had noticed her staring at me, and her lewd thoughts were plastered on her face like a billboard. I had seen it coming from a mile away when she asked me to be her partner, but I couldn't think of any excuse to get out of it. So here we were.

"Well excuse me," she huffed, turning away. So I'd fail chemistry, but at least she wouldn't be drooling over me in the corner. Fair trade, I'd say.

"Mr. Masen! Ms. Stanley! What is that?" Mr. Barker demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"Chem project gone wrong?" I asked, trying to make light of the situation. Mr. Barker did not appreciate my humor.

"You jest?" he roared, infuriated. "Stanley, turn off the Burner! We're not trying to burn down the lab, are we? That would be a Level 3 offense!"

Jessica (I had remembered her name) whimpered.

"And you, Masen," he jabbed a finger into my chest, "I'll see you in detention today, wise guy!"

"Of course," I said, sighing. Luckily, the bell rang moments later. Gathering up my things, I made a b-line for the door.

"Cullen, I didn't dismiss you," barked Mr. Barker, ironically.

"The bell did, Sir."

"Well, the bell isn't named Mr. Barker, is it, Masen?"

"I'd hope not," I muttered as I approached his desk. "So did you need me then, sir?"

"Yes. I'm assigning a tutor for you during Study Hall," he quipped, glaring at me.

"But- But Sir! I can't dedicate that whole period to Chemistry! I- I have other subjects, too!" I said, freaking out. Truth was, the only thing I did over Study Hall was sit on the upper balcony and talk to Gabe as he smoked. But Mr. Barker didn't know that.

"Not my problem, Cullen. Your tutor's name is," he paused to check his papers, "Alice Brandon."

"A girl?"

"Yeah. You've never seen one or somethin'?"

"No, I have, but it's just-"

"Good! Then get out. You better study, Masen. I have no problem holding you back a year!" Mr. Barker ordered. I didn't respond – I was already out the door, shaking with rage.

---

"Man, that's so stupid!" Gabe shouted, pulling at his hair on our way home. "I can't believe that! Who am I going to smoke with now?"

"I don't smoke, Gabe," I pointed out.

Gabe just shot me a look.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry, I really am. But you know Barker!"

Gabe was looking really upset. I could practically hear the desperation and desolation radiating from his brain – his home life was rough enough. He didn't need to be abandoned again.

"Hey, I'll try and talk to the girl and see if she'll let me go," I promised. He caught my eye and smiled, relieved.

"Good. Do that. And if worse comes to worse, just invite her."

"Yeah, like that'll happen," I say, laughing at him. He hit me on the shoulder lightly, smirking.

"You never know, man. No one can see the future."

---

"Ms. Brandon?" I asked tentatively, staring at the back of a very small girl's head. She had pitch black, waist long hair.

She turned to me with a smile on her face.

"Yeah. You must be Edward – take a seat," she said, her pixie face glowing.

It was Study Hall, the time I had been dreading since Barker's punishment the day before. On the outside, I sat down next to her and started unpacking my book bag. On the inside, I was heaving sighs of relief. I had been assigned a multitude of tutors over the years – not that I was stupid, just lazy – and none of them had been pleasant. From the bossy, infuriating Lauren Mallory to the shy, overzealous, Tyler Crowley, my respect for tutors had gone down tremendously.

"So you're having trouble with Chemistry?" she asked distractedly, flipping through a small black day planner.

"Yeah."

"Okay. So what's your main problem, from your point of view?" she questioned kindly, adapting a face of pure interest.

"Barker," I answered shortly. She laughed.

"Well, I don't think we can really do anything about that, but maybe-"

I figured that if I was ever going to ask her to ditch with me, that it had to be now, before we (or rather, she) got too into the studying thing.

"Hey, Alice, can I ask you something real quick?" I asked in a rush, cutting her off midsentence. "But it has to be private, and um, confidential. Banner can't find out."

"Oh, yeah! Okay. Sure," she faltered, looking surprised by my intensity and misdirection.

"Will you – erm – would you consider ditching this whole thing? With me?" I hesitated. "Please?"

Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. I knew immediately that she was offended by the very idea.

"Listen here, Edward," she hissed under her breath, glaring at me, "I have a boyfriend, and I am very happy. So if this is all some joke just to get to me, and you can take your stupid, pathetic little act and shove it up your-"

"Alice!" I said, laughing slightly. She looked affronted. "Alice, I'm not asking you out! It's just, well, I have this friend, and he's having problems and well, to be frank, we usually skip Study Hall and go walk around campus or something to clear our minds. And something's up with him lately, so I don't really want him feeling any extra desolation or pressure or stuff, you know?"

She laughed slightly, too, but blushed.

"Oh," she said simply.

"Is that a yes?" I hedged.

"I guess," she said, still laughing at herself. "Just let me pack up first."

She quickly bent over to get her backpack. Stopping midway, she let out a little gasp.

"Alice?" I asked, concerned. I couldn't see her face – her lacy black hair was curtaining it off.

"I think," she started, sitting up and looking pale, "that we better hurry."

"What? Why?" I asked, freaking out a bit at her serious expression.

"Your friend, or something," she stated, not explaining herself completely. With her bag over her shoulder, she started walking hurriedly out of the library. I followed her, walking fast to catch up.

"What about him?" I questioned.

"I just have this bad feeling," she muttered.

"Do you know where you were supposed to meet?" she asked frantically after several minutes of silence and speed walking.

"Uh, yeah," I replied, panting slightly. "The ice cream place on Fourth."

"Oh, God," she muttered, breaking into a full on run.

Laboring after her, I started to feel the horrid, familiar lead knot of fear weighing down my stomach. I didn't really know why until we turned the corner.

Perched on the very top ledge of the building's roof (that not only held the ice cream store and it's neighboring shops, but apartments above them as well), was Gabe, eyes closed with his jacket swaying in the snowy wind. A crowd had already formed around the bottom of the building.

"Let me through!" I shouted. "I'm his friend!"

I shoved an old lady, an unbelievably pretty blonde I recognized from school, a bulky guy jeering, and some odd kid with his eyes closed who looked eerily calm.

"No!" I called towards the top of the building, desperate for him to hear me. "Don't do it!"

I whirled on the spot, realizing all of a sudden that Alice was no longer with me. I saw her standing a few people behind me, very close (their arms were intertwined) to the calm kid from before. I vaguely remembered his face – he probably went to our school, too.

"He should so do it," I heard someone whisper harshly from behind me. I turned, ready to attack the source of the voice, but before I could, the group around me gave a collective gasp. Someone screamed – I thought it was Alice, but I didn't bother to check.

Gabe had jumped – my best and only friend had sent himself free falling to the concrete that would surely bring about his imminent death.

The entire world went quiet then, and I could instinctively feel, without even having to watch, that he was close to hitting the ground. I felt like I was moments away from passing out. But then I heard his voice flying through my head.

Let's see him deny me now

Stunned, I started scanning the faces near me to see if anyone else could hear it. The only emotion their faces registered was horror. His last words had reached only my ears and no one else's.

Then there was a sickeningly loud crunch, and I heard his voice no more.