I am just…read this. Please.

Oh, and review.


Alice smiled, holding up the sequined top from the pile in front of her. It was pretty, sparkly and totally not Bella.

But she had to buy it for that tom-boy.

She needed some girly in her life and Alice was the only one that seemed to be putting any effort into turning her into the princess she deserved to be. Bella may not have been the most unique and exciting girl she had met, but she was family and family didn't get to be in the rags she associated with.

Alice nodded once and dropped the shirt into the basket in the crook of her arm, turning to the racks closer to the windows of the boutique. It was raining, as usual, but the air was a little bit more warm, the wind light and the rain a nice mist. It was a lovely day out, a nice little boutique that just opened and giving her a nice view of the main street in town.

"Do you need any help ma'am," a kind young woman hesitated, smiling at Alice.

The pixie-esque figure looked over at the worker, flashing her a large, toothy grin. So pretty, deceiving. The shopkeep stuttered and Alice chuckled, pulling a black dress from the rack, examining it with a critical eye. The shop was cute, and had decent manufacturers?

She was in love.

"No, thank you. In fact, I'm about to be ready to check out. Please just make sure there is someone at the register," Alice smirked softly, putting the dress back.

The shop keeper stuttered again and turned around, walking back towards the register. Alice didn't understand the way humans got flustered, Rosalie was usually the one that received these kinds of reactions, though Alice was on the other end of these glances. Even after all this time, it was weird. Alice shook her head, wanting to focus on her little shopping adventure she had been absorbed in before.

But, of course, something managed to catch her attention again.

And she would rather a raging bull on steroids that was on fire with acid dripping from its mouth.

The woman standing outside the window was clearly on the verge of tears, apparently trying to talk the meter maid out of writing her a ticket. She was wearing a loose-fitting white gown with peach colored flowers around the bottom hem and up the right side of it. Her hair was a deep black but shone with a light brown sheen in the sunlight (or was that blue?). She was pretty, an odd looking young woman, just a little off in the looks department but still pretty enough to be distinct.

The clatter of the coat hanger brought her back to herself and she looked around, saw the shop keep jogging towards her; she still appeared stunned, like she had seen a ghost.

In a sense, she had.

"Ma'am," the worker asked, picking up the dress and sliding it back onto the rack. "Ma'am, are you ok?"

Alice blinked once, twice. "O-oh," she would have blushed if she could; instead, she reached back, brushed her hand over the back of her head. "I am so sorry, I just. . . sorry but can you put these things up for me," she passed her basket to the worker.

Her head was spinning, a sick feeling inching beneath granite skin, trying to bring a rise in color to her cheeks but to no avail. When the bell chimed on the door handle as the boutique opened at Alice's will, it carried over the patter of the rain.

The girl and the meter maid paid no attention to her, though the people of the sidewalk still shuffled nervously around her in a decent berth. Alice shook her head, holding it with one side as she turned down the opposite direction from the woman, looking for her car.