Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight. Shocker, eh?

AN: Hello there! New readers: thanks for clicking on this here story of mine, but I strongly reccomend you check out I'll Make a Believer out of You (And And Then I saw her Face, if you'd like) first(It'll make more sense). Old readers: here we go now, the sequel to Believer! :D So this chapter is just a teaser, if you will, mostly flashbacks, but more exciting stuff is going to happen, I promise, so hang in there. Now, my "real" sequel plot starts two years after the previous story ends, so the following, maybe, ten or so chapters are connector, fun, lighter stuff, and the tying-up of loose ends. But, I hope you do enjoy. And I hope it stands up to my standards of writing. :D Sorry it's not up as soon as I said, I was busy on the weekend. :)

But now, please read! :D

The last few weeks had been so busy, so full, that when I found myself just sitting, with the whole empty afternoon ahead of me one late September Sunday, I was mildly surprised. I was in the little room at the end of the top floor. The piano room, Edward's room. Edward and I had been surreptitiously cleaning it out in spare moments over the last few weeks. Because I hadn't told Charlie and Renée that I'd managed to open it - and probably never would, and because we both wanted to leave it the way it had been, we hadn't tried anything like painting or replacing furniture, but we'd given it a good vacuuming and dusting, and apart from the fact that it looked like it belonged in a museum, it was in normal, nice condition now. Edward had even managed to get the piano back in working order, and sometimes, on quiet afternoons when my parents were still at work, he would play for me.

Today, though, I was alone. The Cullens had gone away for the weekend, to visit Esme's parents, and because Edward still hadn't met most of his new "family", he'd gone along. So, I found myself with nothing much to do. All my homework was done, due to the fact that Edward had left Friday night.

So I got some time to think, sit there in the window, and take stock of my life of the past few weeks. As I sat there, looking back, I liked what I saw, and couldn't help smiling to myself.

I'd been busy, that was for sure, but busy in the best possible way. Apart from Edward - whom I spent most of my waking moments with - I had friends, more then I'd ever really had before. I'd explained it to Renée by saying that I just got along better with the kids at Mapledale, but I knew the real reason was that I'd changed this summer. The summer with Edward had opened me up, made me loosen up a little. It had made me act more my age - younger, in a way.

So, apart from Edward, my days at MHS were filled with the other friends I'd made. There was Angela, the shy, but very sweet girl who'd first reached out to me, even before school started. There was Jessica, who, even if I could tell wasn't going to mean as much to me as Angela, was fun to be around. Then there was the rest of their group, the members of whom I knew to varying degrees; Eric, the kind of awkward, geeky, but genuinely sweet guy in my English class, Mike, the goofy jokester who I could tell Jess had her eye on, Lauren, a standoffish girl I didn't know very well, Ben, Tyler . . . the list of people whom I could now consider friends or acquaintances was already longer than it had ever been in Phoenix.

And then there was Emmett and his friends. Although Edward and I, if we weren't alone, usually spent our time with Jess and Angela's friends, I'd still gotten to meet, at least, if not know, most of Emmett's friends. Some, like the happy-go-lucky, goofy Garrett, I really liked, but others, like James, kind of intimidated me.

To add to the list of these people that I now saw most days, spent my free time with, there was also Edward's new family. It kind of amazed me, how they'd just accepted Edward as a new member of their family, and were now ready and willing to do the same for me. Renée and Charlie didn't mind having Edward around, but we spent most of our time at his house, and it had become almost like a second home. Emmett was the big brother I'd always wanted to have - unbearable teasing included. I didn't see much of Carlisle, because he worked so much at the hospital, but Esme had welcomed me with open arms from day one.

So, add to this newfound social life the fact that I'd just started my junior year of high school, I was very busy. Busy, but loving it, so it was with contentment that I looked over what my life now was, on this sunny Sunday.

As I looked back, there was only one dark blot on the rich, shining tapestry that my life had become. The thorn in my side, the itchy tag on my t-shirt, the shadow hanging over my head, always ready and eager to slip out over the sun on what I'd thought was a perfect day. Rosalie Hale.

Ever since the day Edward had shot her down in the cafeteria(which had caused a mild sensation in the student body. As Angela put it - and she was a reliable source - "I don't think it's ever happened before."), she'd stopped making plays for him, but she was always still there, now with me as her target.

Well, maybe "always" was the wrong term. It wasn't as if she was constantly behind my back, dogging my every step, but she had an uncanny ability to appear out of the blue to ruin what I'd thought was a perfect day, or make my self esteem plummet on what wasn't really a very good one. It wasn't much, just a few choice words whispered in my ear as she blew by my locker, or a glance that brought to mind the phrase "If looks could kill", thrown at me across the lunchroom.

It was enough to stop my life from being perfect, enough to always hang a cloud of doubt and niggling fear over my head. I didn't dare say anything to Edward, but I did bring it up with Angela one day.

It was a moment of weakness, when we were sitting outside in the warm September sun because our math teacher had called in sick, so we had a free period, that the question just slipped out. "Ang, why does she hate me?"

She was caught by surprise, of course. A second before we'd been talking about music, or something as equally mundane and unimportant. "Who? Bella, no one-" and then it seemed to click, but I continued anyways.

"Rosalie!" with disgust, I realized I was crying. "She hates me, she's got it in for me, and it's only a matter of time before she tries for Edward again, and sooner or later he'll see that he should be with-"

"Bella." she grabbed me by my shoulders, shaking me a little. "Stop. First of all, I don't think you need to worry about Edward. Besides, are you stupid? Yeah, maybe Rosalie's prettier than you, but that's the only thing she's got going for her, and besides, it doesn't mater to Edward, you know that."

"But she-" I was blubbering, acting like an idiot, but I couldn't help myself - all the doubts and fears of the past weeks came spilling out.

"Let me finish. Even if Edward would ever look at Rose - which he wouldn't - I don't think she's actually interested in him. I've known her since kindergarten, Bella, I know what she's like. She doesn't actually want him, regardless of the show she makes. He's younger than her, for goodness sakes. In her books, "If thou art a girl, thou shalt not date a guy younger than thyself" is practically one of the ten commandments."

I thought of that, but it still didn't make any sense. "Then why-"

"Don't you see, Bella, it's the chase Rose likes. Actually, no, scrap that. It's the power. Any of the guys Rosalie has dated, she never wanted any of them. She just wanted to prove she could have them. She prides herself on the fact that any guy here she hasn't dated, it's because she doesn't want him, not because he won't have her. You, by daring to let Edward Masen fall in love with you," she grinned, "turned that upside down."

The way she'd put it, it had all seemed to make sense then, that of course I should just shrug off all Rose's abuse, it didn't mean anything, she was just, as ridiculous as the concept seemed - jealous. But faced with the real thing - five feet nine inches of perfect skin, impeccable make-up, honey-blond curls, and professionally manicured nails, it was hard to tell myself that my fears were groundless. Heck, it was hard not to feel two inches tall.

So it was this direction that my thoughts took that afternoon, and I was pulled again under a cloud of doubt and niggling worry. Until, that is, the cellphone in my pocket started ringing. "Hey Edward, what's up?" I answered, unable to stop myself from smiling.

"Nothing," came the voice, unchanged by the phone line between us. "I just wanted to hear your voice." I smiled. Hearing that pushed the cloud away again, and I knew, even if I would sometimes forget it, that Angela was right, and Rosalie was just a silly, jealous Barbie-doll.

AN: Well, there you go, and I hope you enjoyed that! As I said, it's just a taster, and the real story will have more going on, I promise you. Now, if you liked it, please add me to your alerts, your faves, and review! I do love my reviews!! :D

Thansk for reading, and I do hope you enjoyed!

-SkySong