Note: I wish to express my sincere thanks to those who left reviews for my last story, "Turnabout." I apologize for failing to respond to some of you. I've been having computer issues, but I will try to reply to everyone as soon as I can.

This story is set between Twilight and New Moon…

I should have realized that it was rarely wise to try to thwart Alice's well-orchestrated plans. But for some reason I thought I could circumvent her machinations while still obtaining the desired end result. I could almost hear Edward's affectionately exasperated voice saying, "Silly Bella" as I sat miserably contemplating the considerable mess caused by my clumsy efforts.

I sighed and surveyed the damage on the countertop and floor around me. With a little time and effort, the chaos was reparable. I knew I could clean it all up. However, I hardly dared to lift my eyes—eye, actually, to be more precise—to look in the mirror, because the debacle that would meet my gaze would be much harder to repair.

"Here goes nothing," I murmured, then steeled myself to look up at the disaster staring back at me.

It really was Alice's fault… mostly. She was the one who had convinced me that Edward thought I looked beautiful whenever she did my hair and make-up. She reminded me of his expression when he first saw me prepared for the prom. It was true that he'd been a bit awe-struck, but at the time I'd thought it was just the overall effect of the dress, the single stiletto, and the dramatic cosmetic choices.

Yet the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if his expression had reflected surprise that I could look that good. Compared to his sisters and Esme, I was utterly plain, barely better than homely. Recently I'd seen a photo of the Denali clan, and the three female members were stunning. I still remembered our brief conversation on the subject.

"They're gorgeous," I'd murmured as I stared at the picture.

"Mmm, yes, gorgeous," Edward had replied. Just like that. No argument, no comments about false perfection or soulless beauty: Just a few murmured words to agree with what I'd said.

I couldn't seem to stop thinking about that small interchange. Maybe flawlessness was what Edward expected in a woman; maybe external beauty was important to him after all. I briefly debated asking Alice to help me with some relatively simple and subtle cosmetic and hair suggestions. But flashbacks of uncomfortable hours in her make-up chair made me cringe. As fun as that time was for her, it was the polar opposite for me. All the attention and intent focus on me were enough to make me squirm, both physically and mentally.

So I decided to take matters into my own hands. I spent a little time at the local drugstore's cosmetics counter, debating which products would beautify me best. But even the handful of items I picked out were expensive as a whole, and I couldn't really justify spending that much money on something so trivial. Besides, Alice owned nearly as many cosmetics as a small department store, and probably much higher-end brands, too, all neatly stocked in her spacious bathroom. She'd told me more than once that I was welcome to use anything I wanted, and I knew she wouldn't mind if I borrowed a few things.

I waited until I was certain Alice would be gone for an entire day. I didn't want to risk her foreseeing my plan and trying to worm her way into 'helping' me. My opportunity came when she, Esme, and Rosalie decided to go to San Francisco for the weekend to attend some sort of fashion event. Well, Esme would spend most of the time at the museums, but she would be gone nonetheless. Alice had invited me to join them, of course. However, I had a history paper to complete, so I had a good excuse to bow out of the excursion.

Emmett and Jasper had planned an overnight hunting trip, convincing Edward to accompany them for the first part. He wouldn't leave me for an entire night, but he finally agreed to join his brothers for the afternoon then return in the evening to be with me.

Still, I needed an excuse to be at the Cullens' house while they were gone, and luckily the history paper provided a good one. A significant percentage of my grade would be based on the project, so it was an important one.

Using my dinosaur of a computer for research would add hours to my Internet searches.

I asked Edward if I could come over and use his laptop, and maybe borrow a book or two, while he was hunting. Jasper had hundreds of history texts in the family's library. Edward offered to stay and help me, but I told him that I needed to do the work on my own. It was another one of those human experiences, I reminded him, and he didn't want me to miss it, did he? Begrudgingly he agreed to go on the hunt but made me promise to call him if I needed him.

I arrived at his house just before noon on Saturday. He, Emmett, and Jasper were getting ready to leave. Edward made sure the computer was set up for me and told me that he'd stocked some of my favorite foods and beverages in the kitchen, then asked if there was anything he could do.

"Just have a good time," I told him. "You deserve it."

He kissed me, ignoring Emmett's snickers and Jasper's contented smile.

"Good luck on the paper, love," Edward said. "I'll be back by six. Carlisle's working until five, so you should have the house to yourself until just before I return."

I grinned. My plan was working out almost too well… "Okay. I'll probably get a lot done!"

He kissed me once again then left. I scurried to his room and slipped my flash drive into his computer. I'd actually finished most of the paper, working on it during the smattering of hours when I wasn't with him. I spent a couple of hours adding a few details from two of Jasper's books and modifying my reference list, then sent the document to the printer.

Satisfied with the results, I set the pages on Edward's desk and walked down the hall to Alice and Jasper's room. I felt a tiny bit strange entering their bedroom, but I tried not to look around or be nosy, instead heading straight for the bathroom. I devoted quite some time to looking through all of the make-up choices. I knew that many of the items were things Alice had purchased specifically for me. Even so, I didn't plan to use much of anything, so she'd probably never even know I'd borrowed them. If Edward seemed to like the results, I would try to find similar products at the drug store.

I finally selected a natural-looking powdered blush, a pretty pale plum eye shadow and darker plum eye liner, black mascara, and light rose lip gloss. Alice had about two dozen different bottles of foundation. I wondered if I should use one of them. I peered critically at my reflection in the mirror. I'd always been fortunate to have fairly clear skin, but it wasn't flawless. Was it as smooth as it could be, I wondered?

I'd noticed several tubes and bottles of various cleansers. I studied the labels and information on each one for some time, deciding that I should begin with an exfoliant. Revealing brighter skin sounded like a good idea.

I put my hair up into a ponytail then used a cleansing gel to wash my face thoroughly. Next I rubbed in the exfoliating scrub. It smelled like apricots, but it was rather grainy against my skin. My finger moved a little too close to my eye, and one of the granules rubbed against my lower lid. It hurt, and I had to rinse it off with lots of cool water.

I dried my face then looked in the mirror. My skin was rather red, probably from the scratchy cleansing scrub, so I waited until my complexion was a little more even. The redness faded after a few minutes, except for a small patch on my neck, just beneath my jaw. I realized that a bit of the scrub still clung there, so I washed it off then began to take down my hair.

As the strands fell onto my shoulders, I wondered if I should do something besides just brushing it out. I remembered seeing a curling iron and hot rollers in the cabinet beneath the sink. A bit of waviness and extra body would probably be nice in my normally straight hair.

I retrieved the devices and plugged them both in, then I began to work on my face. My first attempt at foundation came out uneven and streaky, so I washed it off and tried again. The second attempt was not much better, and now my skin felt sort of oily from the make-up. I found a bottle of astringent and used a couple of saturated cotton balls to remove the offending substance. The astringent stung a bit, so I decided I wouldn't use it again.

I finally settled for a light, slightly iridescent powder instead of foundation. I dabbed it over my cheeks, chin, and forehead, satisfied with the overall look.

The distinct smell of something hot alerted me to the readiness of the curling implements.

I'd never used hot rollers before, but I remembered seeing Renee put them in her hair a couple of times when I was young. Gingerly I picked up the largest one, awkwardly rolling a chunk of hair around it. I slid the wire holder on, wincing when I missed and it jabbed me in the neck. I tried again with slightly more success.

Soon I had rollers all over my head. I looked ridiculous, but it was all in the name of beauty. I gave my head a little shake, just for fun because it was amusing to see the curlers bobbing around. Unfortunately, this action dislodged one, and I reached for another one of the holders.

"Ouch!" I shrieked, pulling my hand away. I had inadvertently touched the hot curling iron when I thrust my hand out for the holder. I shook my hand and sighed. Maybe the curling iron wasn't such a good idea after all. I unplugged it and decided to focus on my eyes.

I started with the pale plum eye shadow, but it looked unflattering, making my eyes appear bruised. I rummaged around for the eye makeup remover and wiped a wet cotton ball over my lids. I selected a smokier shade next, but I was still unhappy with the results. I grabbed the cotton ball and rubbed it over my eye again.

Ow! It stung terribly. I looked at the puff of cotton to find that I'd accidentally taken the one I'd used to remove the scrub from my neck. Exfoliating scrub plus eyelids equaled pain. I used a clean washcloth to gently wipe it away.

Maybe I would just settle for some eyeliner. I took a pencil and began to move it along under my left eye, but suddenly I felt a burning sensation at my temple. The hot rollers were, inexplicably, getting hotter, not cooling down as they were supposed to do. My hand jerked, leaving a dark line inside my lower lid. It stung terribly.

I needed to get it off as soon as possible, so I reached for the cotton ball with the eye make-up remover on it then wiped it over my lower lid. It stung even more! Blinking back tears, I tried to focus on what I was doing. Was it even possible that I'd grabbed the wrong cotton ball once again? Yes, it was. I'd rubbed astringent over my eyelid.

Hastily I began to splash water on my face, but then I wondered if that would ruin the rollers. They seemed to be getter even hotter, so I decided my first priority was to remove them. When I touched the first one, I yelped in pain. It really was hot! I could feel my scalp prickling with the heat, and the rollers against my nape and neck were extremely uncomfortable.

Fumbling to work as quickly as possible, I pulled the rollers from my hair, tossing them randomly on the counter and even letting a few fall to the floor. My hair was steaming now, and my fingers stung from the contact with the evil rollers. There was definitely something wrong with the equipment, but I didn't take the time to question what it was.

Once the small implements of torture were out of my hair, I returned my efforts to my tearing, stinging eye. I bent over the sink to put handfuls of water on it until the deep stinging subsided slightly. But it still hurt, and my vision was all blurry. I could feel that my eyelid was beginning to swell.

With a pained sigh, I straightened, taking a step back to reach for a towel. I didn't realize my foot hand landed on one of those infernal hot rollers until I found myself scrabbling to maintain my balance. I was not successful, of course, and landed on my back on the Italian tile floor. The breath left me in a huge whoosh.

Somehow I had managed to take the towel with me, dragging it over the counter and gathering all the open bottles and cases in its wake. A dozen containers scattered around me, most breaking as they spewed their contents all over the floor.

I lay amid the debris for a long time. My eye still stung terribly, and my nape, ears, and scalp prickled from the contact with the hot rollers. Truthfully, my entire face felt funny, and I couldn't resist reaching up to scratch frantically at a very hot, itchy spot on my neck.

Finally I found the strength to sit up slowly. I had pressed a hand over my eye without even thinking. I surveyed the damage all around me, moving my head from side to side to accommodate the use of only one eye. I'd made a mess. How I'd managed to open all of those containers, let alone shatter and spill the majority of them on the floor, remained something of a mystery to me.

Shakily I got to my feet. It was time to see what else I'd wrought. The countertop was a mess, too, with foundation splattered across the pristine marble, used cotton balls and hot rollers everywhere, and several toppled bottles of various liquids that were beginning to drip onto the floor.

I bent to sop up some of the multi-colored fluids with a fluffy towel, realizing too late that it was one of Alice's best linens. It was probably ruined now. I sighed wearily and heaved myself up once again.

I needed to look in the mirror, to find out exactly what sort of damage I'd inflicted on myself, but I dreaded seeing it. It would be bad; I knew that much. I kept my eyes on the counter for a few minutes, building up the nerve to glance up at my reflection. I couldn't do it.

I slumped before the mirror, head hanging nearly as low as my spirits. I was in a mess, and I had no idea what to do.

To be continued…