A/N: This is a new story that I'm writing (no duh). I got the idea in my last math class when I should've been focusing on my exam, but I was passing notes with my friend. ) She made feel all depressed and stuff because she tricked me into thinking that she was leaving the school. Therefore this story was born off of a kid being sad during her math exam! I got an A on the exam so it all worked out. :)

I might have some of this group home stuff wrong, but this is called fiction for a reason.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

Ch.1 Group Homes, Manly Social Workers, and Hot Skinny Guys

BPOV

A year ago I would have never thought about something like this happening. I thought that I would be in my parent's huge house for the rest of my life. That is until they were in that plane crash. But here I was, sitting in the back of some smelly social worker's car.

My Fosters kicked me out. They said I was too big of a mess to handle. That I needed to be in a place with kids just like me. I didn't get along well with people, especially people like me.

I was heading to a group home that contained five other kids my age. If my Fosters weren't lying then that meant that they were all angry fuckers. Put that together and it equals chaos, drama, and whatever the hell else you want to put in there. I shuddered at the thought.

"Would you like to listen to the radio, roll down the window, scream?" The social worker lady asked as looked at me through the dirty rear view mirror. Her bright blue eyes glaring at me. Her thick eyebrows were in serious need of some plucking. I wasn't even sure that she was a she. She had a burly build and deep laugh. The girl parts about her was her talking voice, it was squeaky and high-pitched, absolutely nothing like her laugh. She was wearing one of those ugly skirt suits. That pretty much summed it up that this thing was female.

"No. No. Yes," I mumbled, answering her questions, only loud enough for the two of us to hear. Not that anyone else could hear us. This car could give an airplane motor a run for its money.

Lucy, the manly social worker, looked at me expectantly with hopeful eyes. I rolled my eyes at her enthusiasm. Her hopeful expression instantly changed to disgust. I'd hate to be her. I'd hate to have to be around kids like me. I felt guilty, sort of…maybe…no.

"You don't like me," I said in my I-am-pathetic-little-girl-voice as I played with my hands in my lap. My eyes started to water slightly. I had perfected this throughout the years- fake crying. I honestly didn't give a shit if she didn't like me. I wouldn't see her much anyway.

"You're right, I don't like you," she said keeping her eyes locked on mine while continuing to drive the mini van. She had a talent with this. I had to give her props. Up until last March, I would've thought that I would always get my way. I was my parent's little angel, the teacher's pet, and the most beautiful girl in my grade. I could've easily kept it all up too.

"That's okay, I don't like you either. Now we're even, I guess." I said nonchalantly as I took my nail file out of my bag. Her manly glare only turned darker and so much fucking scarier. I hesitantly put the file back into my bag. Her glare never lessened.

---

Lucy never told me where exactly we were going, but considering the fact that we were already out of Springfield, I was sure that it was far away. I didn't fucking dare ask her unless I was mental which I surely wasn't. Of course you learn new things each day, and one of those things is if you should or shouldn't ask a freaky, manly social worker where in hell you're going. After our little conversation, I thought that I would play on the safe side and go with my gut. My gut said that Isabella should keep her big mouth shut.

I was quite curious as to what city I would be living in. I could say that much at least. I just hoped that the people, or person, taking care of us would be kind.

I started humming to myself and fiddling with the strap of the seatbelt. As the scenery floated by, I started to feel queasy. I didn't know why; I just did. I knew we were almost to my new home. But we weren't in a very nice looking neighborhood. The houses were beat up and there were random people walking around. Some looked like homeless families while others looked like serial killers or something of that sort. Kids were running around in the middle of the streets like their parents could care less about them. In other words this place was really fucking scary.

It was irritating to think that I would maybe have to live here. I was used to big houses and nice people. This was a complete opposite of my world. I didn't have any room to say that since I was in a car, and had never met the people.

I wanted to know where I was.

I sighed and looked into the mirror that I had avoided most of the day. To my surprise Lucy wasn't glaring at me anymore. She was looking; not glaring. Her eyes were soft and almost caring. When Lucy wasn't glaring, she looked very un-manly. I could only guess that her glares were to mess up a kid's confidence. Heck! It worked too.

"It's horrible isn't it?" She asked, shifting her gaze to the side of a house where an older girl was yelling quite loudly at a little boy. She looked to be his sister or maybe even a young mother; I couldn't tell. He crying while the girl backed him up into the side of the house. The worse part was that this was all around. Not the same exact thing, but everything extremely shocking and unpleasant. It disgusted me to think that people were raised like this. It hit me then that this was probably how the kids at the home would be.

I was pissed. Shouldn't Lucy and all the other social worker people be able to prevent this? They should've at least kept a police car at the corner.

"Yeah…" I whispered trailing off. "Where will I be living?" I asked curiously, feeling tears trail down my cheeks. This time they weren't fake, they were real tears made out of pity. I hated pity. It made me feel sick.

"I'm not supposed to tell you, but I'll tell you anyway since we're here," she said with a mischievous grin forming on her face. The car slowly came to a halt. We had stopped by the sidewalk. There was regular looking house, or as regular as it could in this neighborhood at least. Actually, it was a tad bit nicer than some of the others. The roof didn't look like it would cave in at any moment. The front door wasn't hanging by one hinge. The sides didn't look like they were rotting. Those were all plus sides. Other than those differences, the house still looked to be missing something.

Oh, well. Welcome home, Bells. I thought to myself as I stepped out of the car.

"Grab your bags. I'm going to got talk to Mr. Cullen," Lucy said. Huffing as she climbed onto the street. I picked up the bag that included my belongings.

As we walked to the doorway, a tall blonde-haired middle-aged man that I hadn't noticed stood up from a white, wooden rocking chair. He had gentle blue eyes. He somehow managed to plaster on a small smile by the time we reached him.

"Hello," he greeted me warmly, sticking out his big hand. "My name is Mr. Cullen, but I require all of the children here call me Carlisle. Mr. Cullen makes me feel like an old man." He chuckled to himself. "You must be Isabella." I shook his out struck hand and nodded.

"I like to be called Bella," I corrected him. He was easier to look in the eye than Lucy was. Hopefully he wasn't just putting on a show.

"Bella it is then. I'll get the kids to come out here and then you'll be officially acquainted," he said, his eyes moving quickly from place to place, obviously trying to find the others.

When he couldn't find them from the place he was standing, he told Lucy and I to make ourselves at home on the front porch. To me this would be home.

Within five minutes Carlisle came outside with two very irritated teens, two happy and hyper, one unusually calm.

The ones that were irritated were the most beautiful. The girl, a tall platinum blonde; her wavy hair was wisped up into a messy ponytail. Her eyes were a painfully dark blue. Her figure was. I felt a pang of jealousy race through me. Her hand was on her hip, but she was still alert. She stood close to the boy. He had brown-ish red hair that looked sun-kissed. It stuck out in every direction. Like he just got out of bed. His figure was tall and lean, a little too skinny for a normal teenage boy. His jaw was perfectly sculpted and his cheekbones were high. But his eyes were the best part. They were an emerald green that seemed to stand out among all of him, but they were slightly hidden behind thick, black, rectangular frames that made him look even hotter than was necessary.

The two very hyper and happy ones were total opposites. The girl was short, not even five feet, with short dark brown hair. She had brown eyes and tiny features. The boy, however, was huge, bigger than Lucy in the muscular way. His curly brown hair was sculpting his face. He had dimples that made him look like a big cuddly teddy bear.

The calm one was a tall semi-muscular blonde with grey eyes. He looked almost identical to the beautiful blonde, but probably just the hair color. There really wasn't much about him. He seemed like a nice, quiet, and laid back person.

Even though they all were beautiful, you could tell that there was something wrong with them. The only one that I could place was pretty boy's skinniness.

"Bella? Bel-la-la?" The small girl said stretching out my name. Her voice sounded like soft wind chimes. She waved her hand in my face, snapping me out of my reverie. Carlisle must've told them not to call me Isabella.

"Yes."

"Hi! I'm Alice! This is Emmett and this is Jasper!" she exclaimed, pointing to the big one, Emmett, and the blonde boy, Jasper. "Those two are Edward and Rosalie," she said in disgust when she mentioned Rosalie.

"Don't mind her, Belly-Boo! She is just jealous that Rosie Posy here is hotter than her," he said eyeing Rosie Posy. I laughed a little at his ignorance.

Rosalie instantly turned stiff and got closer to Edward. I wasn't sure if they were together or not. Edward didn't look very happy about what Emmett said.

"What the fuck was that Emmett!? Can't you learn to fucking shut up for a little while?! Now she's going to cry or some shit, and it will be your entire fucking fault!" he had backed Emmett up to the wall of the house. Alice looked nervous, like she was about to cry. Rosalie looked mortified. Her eyes were frantically darting from Edward to Emmett.

"I'm so fucking sorry Bulimward," Emmett mumbled sarcastically, raising his hands defensively. This got Edward even more wound up, which didn't look like a smart thing to do.

"I'm not fucking bulimic, dumb ass! I don't have an eating disorder either!" Edward yelled, lifting his fist in the air only to be pulled away from Emmett by Carlisle.

"Denial. Innocence needs no defense," Emmett muttered under his breath; which deserved a big smack in the face from Edward. It was amusing to see someone so skinny try to beat up someone twice his size. I was scared for Edward; he looked so fragile. It worried me.

"Stop!" Carlisle yelled as he stood between the two. He looked frustrated as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Emmett, say sorry to Rosalie. You know how she is," he ordered softly. I almost forgot that she was there; let alone Jasper, Alice, and Lucy. I was intrigued by the brawl between the two.

I heard a low mumble coming from Emmett.

"It's okay, Emmett, y-you didn't mean anything," Rosalie whispered shaking her head. She was crying.

Did that happen often? Maybe.

"Edward, Emmett, apologize now," Carlisle ordered, a vain sticking out of his head. Rosalie grabbed Edward's arm as if she was saying 'don't you dare get in another fight or else.'

"Sorry," they said together. Edward took Rosalie by the hand, and went inside so that they could both calm down. Emmett started talking to Jasper quietly.

"I'm so sorry you had to witness that Bella," Carlisle said smiling once again. "Alice, you take Bella inside and get her settled while I get some things done over here."

She grabbed my hand and pulled my luggage and me inside house.

"Does that happen often?" I asked curiously, yanking my arm out of her grasp. She rolled her eyes and nodded.

"At least twice a week. C'mon! I'm going to tell you everything you need to know about this place," she chirped animatedly as we walked up the stairs.

"This is the girls room. Your bed is the one in the middle." She grabbed my bag and flung it on my new bed. Hers was on the far side of the room next to a window with yellow curtains. The room was plain, almost like a hospital: white walls, white bedding, and little color. There were three dressers on the opposite side of the room; one for each of us. Sitting beside the door was a large pink dirty clothes hamper.

Alice took my hand again and dragged me to her bed. "Okay, are you ready? You might need to take notes," she asked seriously.

"Yes, I am ready."

"First, you need to know who to hang out with. This is fucking crucial. You hang out with Jasper, Emmett, and I. Don't go near Rosalie; she is a fucking slut. I hate her," she grumbled hatefully as she tore a piece of notebook paper apart. "Edward is her best friend. He is nice, but you can't get on his bad side like Emmett. Of course it doesn't help Emmett that he has a huge crush on Rosalie. I'm on his bad side too since I hate Rosalie. Jasper is neutral, like Switzerland was during World War II." She smiled as she mentioned Jasper's name. It was obvious she liked him.

"Edward was the first here," she continued. "I was third. Rosalie came second, and she and Edward hit it off immediately. They keep each other from doing really crazy things. Last year Edward even tried to kill himself, but Rosalie stopped him. That is the only decent thing she has done. For Edward's defense, he isn't bulimic. He doesn't have healthy eating habits though. He usually eats one meal a day. And he doesn't curse that often either, just when he's mad. Anyway enough about them," she said rubbing her palm together frowning.

"Second rule: we do not ask each other reasons for being here. It is our own private business. Okay?" she asked.

"I understand." She smiled then as she let out a loud sigh of relief.

"Third rule: we do not badger about others clothing. It is also our own private business," she said, eyeing me skeptically. This one seemed important to her. All the things that I was curious about were off limits. I didn't see a problem with it; she was wearing a white long sleeved T-shirt, jeans, and toe socks. I personally wasn't a fan of toe socks, but I wouldn't go nuts and tell her how much I hated them.

"Fourth rule: You are allowed to do anything you want as long as it doesn't harm or bother anybody or yourself. That one is Carlisle's most important rule, but it is the rule that we all break at least once. For example, Emmett did that to Rosalie and Edward today, remember? "

I nodded, recalling the memory of the little fight. "When everybody breaks it, doesn't the second and third rule get broken too?" I asked nervously.

"Not necessarily, I mean if something bothers someone or yourself it doesn't mean that you are questioning them about something uncomfortable," she answered quickly, lying down on her pillow.

"Oh," I said mostly to myself. "If you and Rosalie hate each other so much then why do you share a room?"

"We have to," she answered simply. "Back to the rules," she said, trying to change the subject. "Fifth rule: No matter what you cannot miss out on our Saturday Night Weekly Discussions," she said in an imitation of an announcer's voice. "Since you moved in, we're having it tonight after dinner."

"What exactly is Saturday Night Weekly Discussions?" I asked. It didn't sound very pleasant.

"I had a feeling you'd say that," she smiled smugly. "It is where we have to talk about the things we write in our journal. He'll give you yours tonight. It's like our group home tradition. We always do it. It's kind of fun, really. I like knowing how other people react about our situation," she shrugged casually as she talked. Reaching behind her bed, she pulled out a yellow journal.

"This is mine," she said setting it in my lap. "These are my most previous pages." She turned the pages too quickly for me to read anything on them. "We have to write at least two pages a week. It's not much, but gives us something to do. We have to share the biggest thing that happened in your journal for the week because we only have about five minutes each. It's think it is fun," she assured me. She took the journal from my lap and placed it back behind the bed.

"So you're saying that these discussions are sort of like group therapy things?" I asked nervously.

"Well, yeah, you could put it that way. We are in a group home after all." She smirked.

We spent the rest of the afternoon talking about other things that you should and shouldn't do. I was surprising myself. I hadn't acted at all bitchy around these people. I certainly wasn't going to act like that towards Alice; she was being way too nice.

I hadn't realized how long we were talking until Alice stood up lithely. "I'm going downstairs. Dinner will be ready in three minutes. It's always ready at 6:22." I stood up and yawned. I was sitting to long not to notice my aching muscles when moved from my position.

I followed her skipping form down the steep stairs, grasping the railing so I wouldn't trip.

I was kind of apprehensive about the whole journal thing, but if these people could do it then I certainly could. I was probably the least messed up out of them all.

"Hey Alice?" I asked.

"Hmm?" she answered turning the corner into the dining room.

"What do you guys usually have for dinner?"

"Most of the time we have microwavable Chinese, but sometimes we order take out Chinese! I know it sounds disgusting. I mean, having all of that Chinese, but it is so good!" she said excitedly. Although I didn't necessarily care for Chinese food, I knew I would have to get used to it.

"Wonderful," I muttered.

"What's that Bella?" Alice asked, sitting down at the table. She pointed to a seat on the other end. I sat down quietly, trying to avoid Alice's question.

She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Nothing." She raised it higher, as if it was even possible to, and rolled her eyes.

"Ooh," she said glancing at her watch. "Everybody will be here in three…two…one." It was like she was psychic. Freaky…

As the others quietly walked in, I realized that I would be sitting between to Jasper and Edward. Oh God.

"So, Bella, how do you like Chinese food?" Carlisle asked, setting a plastic microwavable container of fake Chinese food in front of each of us.

"Delicious." I lied. Edward snorted.

"You're lying; you're bad at it," he stated, smiling crookedly. It took me a moment to regain myself. No matter how unhealthy he looked, he was still hot.

"S-so?" I stuttered.

"Yeah, so, Masen? Huh? I can't here you," Emmett sang.

"Just stating the facts, McCarty."

"Anyway," Carlisle mumbled awkwardly. "Edward, are you going to eat tonight?" He seemed truly concerned for him. Poor guy looked so lonely even with the six of us around.

"Nope!" He popped the 'P'.

"Did you eat at all today?"

"Yes, sir, I did. Ask Rosie; she made me." He looked pointedly at Rosalie who blushed and shrunk in her chair.

"Is this correct, Rosalie?" Carlisle asked.

"Yeah. I made him eat a really big breakfast," she said matter-of-factly.

"That's good, that's good," Carlisle whispered, staring at his half eaten noodles. They weren't as bad as I though they would be; both the food and the people. This might not be as bad as I thought.

----Journal Time…

"Bella, journal time is where you all, including me, share the most significant part of our week." Carlisle smiled proudly, "we've been doing this ever since Edward first got here. Of course, it was really boring being all alone with him."

"Isn't that just lovely." I heard someone say sarcastically. Rude much?

"Uhh…Jasper, why don't you begin with your best journal entry.

Jasper rose from his chair and gulped. It was obvious the poor guy was shy.

"Well, one morning I woke up." He glanced around the room. "It was four in the morning, but Emmett was still awake. I wouldn't have really minded that he was still awake, but it was what he was doing is where this gets interesting. He was wearing penny loafers that he painted electric blue. I don't know why he painted them or even why he had them. Anyway, he was also wearing highlighter yellow spandex pants, a tie-dye T-shirt, and lime green suspenders." I looked at Emmett who was blushing madly. I didn't even know that it was even possible for someone his size to blush at all. "But he was singing Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne. I've never, in my sixteen years of life, seen anything so disturbing. Lucky Edward is such a heavy sleeper that he didn't have to see it. I-I'm done now." He stuttered and hurried back to his seat next to Alice.

I couldn't imagine him doing that, but apparently everybody else could. They were laughing—everybody except Emmett. Jasper was just plain out nervous.

"That was different," Carlisle said trying to get the mental image out of his head. "Rosalie, you're up."

"The only exciting thing that happened was that she came." She nodded her head pointedly at me. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"Edward?" he asked, probably hoping for another answer.

"Same as Rosie. She's hot." I was taken aback by his forwardness. I was happy though. He didn't make a big deal about it either. Not only did he not make a big deal, nobody did. I was happy for that too, but the evil genes of blushing occurred. I lowered my head, hoping that when I looked up, nobody would be staring at me.

When I decided to look up, Adonis himself was smirking at me. I felt yet another blush coming on. Evil trader!

"Okay," Carlisle sighed. "Alice, your turn."

"Yay! Mine was the same as Rosalie and Edward's because I got a new best friend! She is so nice and awesome! Oh, and, Edward, she will never be interested in you or your little friend." She pranced back to her seat, not bothering to look back.

"Way to go, Ali! You got Eddie Masen all flustered! Bella, do you think that I would have a chance with you since Rosalie here thinks that I'm not good enough for her?"

"I don't —" I was cut off by Carlisle's voice.

"Emmett, why don't you put your mouth to good use and tell us about your week? Don't say Bella please?" he asked in a strained voice. I was amazed how Alice could actually enjoy this.

"On Tuesday I decided to flush Alice's favorite pen down the toilet," he mumbled, looking at Alice who was glaring at him. It was almost as bad as a Lucy glare.

"You are dead to me, Emmett, start running now."

"Let's not get violent, everybody. How about we give Bella her new journal? Yes, let's do that." The poor guy looked like he was about to hyperventilate. "You all can leave now." He waved his hand in the air and pinched his nose like he did earlier.

As they exited the room, Carlisle picked up a pink and purple striped box. He handed it to me and motioned for me to open it. Inside was a midnight blue journal with a matching pen.

"Keep it in a safe place. The kids around here tend to be a little nosy."

"Thanks, I guess."

Thumbs up or down? I can't see that so review! Constructive criticism is always welcome. I know it's pretty fuzzy. I also know that I don't have a wide expanded vocabulary. I cannot tell you people how many times I accidentally spelled blush like bluch.

Here are the answers to questions that will probably be asked:

Q: Where are they from? Where are they?
A: Bella is from Springfield, Illinois, Edward and the rest of the gang (including Carlisle) are from Chicago, Illinois. They are living in Chicago.

Q: Where is Esme?
A: I'm not tellin' yet.

Q: Why do they live in such a bad place?
A: Because I felt like it.

Q: How old are they?
A: They are 16, and Carlisle is in his 40s.

Any other questions? Feel free to ask!

By the way, I am very aware of the fact that the characters are OOC, especially Alice. I made them that way for a reason. You will have to wait to figure that out.

-Sarah- :)