Note: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. This story is mine.

Thank you for taking the time to read and also review this story. This chapter is a bit longer than the first but I hope you all still enjoy it.

I also would like to say a special thank you to ED for being my proof-reader and pushing me to get this story out and sharing it.

Slow Jam, Slow Jelly

Chapter 2 – I want to be the one to walk in the sun

Jacob left LA on the 29th day of May, a Tuesday. And 2 days later, LA was properly saying hello to June. The first Saturday in June, I attended a wedding for my coworker, Carmen. The wedding took place on the rooftop of her apartment building where she met her now husband, Eleazar. One lazy January Sunday morning 3 years ago, Carmen's cat, Mr. Bigglesworth, or Biggie for short, ran up on the fire escape and climbed his way up onto the roof. Eleazar was out walking his dog, Talib, when he saw Carmen scurrying around the roof of the building and calling out, "Biggie! Biggie! Biggie!" He couldn't help but laugh to himself and in his head complete the rest of the lyric. Biggie, Biggie, Biggie, can't you see, sometimes your words just hypnotize me.

As a hip-hop fan and a recent New York transplant in LA on that day 3 years ago, he decided to call up to Carmen to see if she needed his help. He took the elevator up to the roof to meet her and to help find Mr. Bigglesworth. When they finally found Mr. Bigglesworth, tucked underneath a kiddie pool one of the tenants had left on the rooftop, they both decided they wanted to get some Sunday brunch. And now they would be having Sunday brunch until death do they part.

In his speech to his beautiful bride, Eleazar mentioned, "I didn't realize how much I missed New York until one of my favorite East Coast rapper's name was coming out of this amazing woman's mouth one morning. She may be an LA angel, born and raised, but to me she's got the heart and soul of New York. And every day I am grateful for being so lucky to always feel like I never left home. Home is always right beside me." Carmen countered back after he set his champagne flute down, "And I knew he was the one when he didn't care when I told him that I didn't actually name my cat after the Notorious B.I.G. I'm a fan of Austin Powers."

Guests enjoyed some great tacos served up fresh by a tacquero man at the reception. I couldn't help but notice that with each plate of carne asada or pollo asado tacos, he made sure to wink at every single girl at the party. If he managed to get a giggle out of someone, he added an extra scoop of fresh guacamole to their plate. So, since I was aware of his game and I had love for guacamole, I let out a small giggle for after he complimented me on my eyes. As for dessert, the ice cream sundae bar they had set up was a huge hit as we all watched the sun set. The party went on well into the early morning hours with small tea lights twinkling and being reflected in the happily wedded couple's eyes. They danced the night away, surrounded by their friends and family, as Japanese paper lanterns slightly swayed with cool summer night breezes. I was convinced the Los Angeles stars in the sky that night were envious again of all the fun people living in LA have.

After that first wedding weekend in June, my summer weekends and summer nights were packed. June had me party hopping from baby showers to graduation parties. I also skyped with Charlie and Renee on Father's day as we all enjoyed dinner together via a keyboard and laptop screen. July had me spreading out a blanket on a green lawn and watching a movie in the park with friends. Fourth of July weekend was spent down in San Diego to indulge in some deep-fried Fair food and fireworks fun. The next weekend my friends and I made another trip down to San Diego just to check out the Comic-Con festivities. Every year, it's always the best place to people watch and sometimes, if one is lucky, some celebrity sightings. August is always the most interesting summer month in my opinion. Everyone is aware of the inevitable seasonal change. We know by the end of August, we'll be reaching for our cardigans to put over our tank tops more often than we'd like. We have that urgency to live up the last summer month of that year. But we also want to mellow out and really enjoy those 31days August is giving us. So, my friends and I tried to find that balance. There were outdoor summer concerts but also nights at smaller local bars to check out the local music scene. We escaped to darkened, air-conditioned theaters to catch more summer movie blockbusters, but we also attempted to celebrity gawk at red carpet premieres. And leave it to Alice, Rosalie, and I to have a few ditch days from work. My usually pale alabaster skin had turned into a more cream colored hue. So, during all the festivities and celebrating, I didn't realize how soon Labor Day weekend was upon all of us, even as I booked my tickets back home for Jacob and Leah's wedding. What can I say, Cyndi Lauper was right, girls just want to have fun.

"Why don't you try these Jeffrey Campbell shoes? It may be a bit edgy for Forks, but you need to show them that you're not that little girl anymore that they knew growing up. You're a Los Angeleno now Bella Bunny," Alice said, shoving some spiked heels in my face. They were literally spiked heels; sharp studs ran up and down the clunky heel of the shoe. It looked more like a Medieval weapon than a shoe.

"And before you dismiss these shoes and say they are too high, these are platform heels." She points to the deathtraps. "They are more comfortable because there is more surface area for the bottom of your feet to spread out upon and keep your balance."

Dammit. The pixie knew she had appealed to the very Virgo logical part of me. Plus, I did like that the shoes weren't too girly or precious. I was, afterall, going to be surrounded by a bunch of stinky boys. The way they tore up and ran around Forks it seemed like they were a pack of wolves. I needed good shoes to keep up with all of their wedding shenanigans. I took the shoes from Alice and gave her a tight smile. She smiled back at me and confidently said, "I wouldn't steer you wrong Bunny."

Bunny. She's been calling me that since our freshman year at UCLA. We were usually at the dining hall at the same time for dinner every night. She told me she'd always walk in and notice I was chomping on a carrot stick. Being two freshmen from out of state and also small towns, being transported to a big city like LA, it was definitely a culture shock. The first couple of months were tough. My two dorm mates, both juniors and the same age, instantly bonded more since I was still a young freshman. But then one night I found Alice at my usual table and in front of my usual seat was a cup of carrot sticks.

"So, are you excited about going back home?" Alice asked.

Ever since Jacob confirmed that I was going to be in the wedding party, it was also a summer of excited phone calls, text messages, facebook wall posts, and tweets. It seemed like all of Forks was so excited to have me back. I shuddered at the thought of all of them up there in that sleepy, damp town.

"Um, no, not particularly," I answer back, trying to look really interested in the Manolo Blahnik shoe display.

"You know Bella Bunny, I've known you for years and yet I still don't know why you hate your hometown so much. Your family and friends visit you here in LA all the time but you barely make the trip up there. It somewhat makes me wonder if something super traumatic happened to you back home." She narrows her eyes down at me and I brace myself for whatever may come spewing out of her mouth. "Did some guy break your heart and abandoned you in the moss-covered damp forest up there?"

I roll my eyes at her, "No, Alice. Nothing juicy or depressing like that has ever happened to me." A guy would have to be interested in me for that abandonment to have happened. No one ever tried to date me, touch me, kiss me, or fuck me. To have my heart broken, someone needed to have actually pursued me. Nope, the type of heart break I had was years of rejection and being alone. I never could make up my mind whether or not which was worse: being rejected or being invisible.

"Alright. The appropriate undergarments, make-up, accessories are purchased for her." I breathe a sigh of relief as I am saved by the very pregnant Rosalie McCarty. "Are we almost done? Emmett, Jr. is craving some salt-n-vinegar chips dipped in some Gold Medal Ribbon ice cream."

Alice makes a gagging noise towards Rosalie and remarks, "You are the living advertisement for wrapping it up and taking birth control."

"Quit it you little twerp. You know in the beginning I was just like you, I didn't want kids. I wanted more time with my husband as newlyweds. But here I am looking like a boat. I always feel so bloated and my ankles are always swollen." I can see her practically grinding her teeth at Alice but she keeps talking. "And I feel ugly. I don't get to wear cute clothes anymore. I'm hormonal and tired all the time…dammit Alice!" Rosalie starts to walk off, away from us, huffing and puffing. Alice and I look at each other trying to figure out if she needed to go to the bathroom, wanted to cry in private, or to punch something. Rosalie these days was always having meltdowns at the drop of a hat. We were all looking forward to her due date of October 29th. We would have gone after her but we learned quickly that a pregnant Rosalie didn't need to be coddled. She just needed to yell even more at everyone.

I shook my head at Alice as we both found seats, so I could finally try on the different pairs of shoes she had picked out for me. I began to reprimand her, "Alice, you know better than to mess with a hungry pregnant woman, especially if that hungry pregnant woman is Rosalie McCarty." Alice and I met Rosalie Hale, before she was a McCarty, in an art history class in the spring of our freshman year of college. She walked into the lecture hall and was just another beautiful, tall, blonde, blue-eyed California beauty that Alice and I both admired and also avoided because we were intimidated. She sat four rows right in front of us and it was no surprise that all the males in the class were quick to swoop in for all the available seats surrounding her. Even Emmett McCarty, her now husband and father of her first child, was seated 5 seats to the left of her, 2 rows back.

Alice and I would get to class and watch as the men would try and work their way up to talk to her. But in the end, strong, silent, and big-hearted Emmett, was the one that won her over. He seemed to never bring a pen or pencil with him to class. It turns out he never did just so he had the excuse to talk to her and ask for a pen. She later confessed to him months later, she always made sure she packed extra pens in her pouch specifically for him.

We bonded with Rosalie for a completely different reason in that art history class though. Alice and I were going over our lecture notes before class one day and noticed how in the art world, the great artists that got more recognition was pretty much all males. In class that day, we both brought it up to our professor's attention. He simply dismissed our observation and trying to reason with us that, "Well, that is what the class History of Women in Art is for. You ladies should take it if you would like next semester." Alice and I were both shocked at our professor's explanation. Then we saw Rosalie's perfectly manicured hand go up and then she began, "So, Mr. Berty, what you're trying to explain to the class is the only artists worth our time, our money, our education, in this class, are the male ones?" Mr. Berty was flabbergasted, sweating bullets, and Rosalie was just getting started. "This world that we are living in is already so male dominated. Take a look at the Billboard charts, the New York Times Bestsellers list. Sure, some women in the past have been pioneers and have found great success in heavily male dominated arenas of life, both personally and professionally. So, it's really sad that a professor like yourself can be so narrow minded and to limit our exposure to things. You really are quite a disappointment." There was silence in the room for a good two minutes. Mr. Berty had an interrogation spotlight still shining down on him. He scurried around his notes for a bit and wrote a few things down. He apologized to the class, specifically making eye contact with me, Alice, and Rosalie. As a result, for the rest of the semester, we were exposed to tons of amazing artwork done both by males and females. When we left class that day, we waved good-bye and all smiled at one another. The next class meeting we sat next to Rosalie, finding kindred spirits in one another that females always have to stick to each other and stand up for one another. We knew females were the ones who really ran the world.

Alice is getting ready to defend herself from my scolding, when we hear her phone vibrate in her Prada purse. She quickly digs for her phone and her face lights up. "Oh, it's Jasper…I'll be back right back." I brush her off and start to take the lid off of one of the shoe boxes. Alice is about 3 feet away from me before she turns around, uncurls her left pointer finger at me, and says, "By the time I get back, I want decisions Bunny." Her wedding band and her Tiffany & Company patented princess cushioned-cut style diamond engagement ring from Jasper Whitlock catches the light, making it sparkle, and she waves at me dismissively. In that moment, I am reminded me of how bare my fingers are. But I easily shrug off that feeling and get to work with shoe making decisions.

As I walk around in various new shoes, trying to get a feel for how comfortable I am in each of them, I can't help but think that tomorrow I would be on a plane back home. If I'm being honest, the idea of home is lost upon me. Even my little studio apartment downtown isn't home to me. I haven't had that feeling of home since I was a kid. The only time I felt at home was when I was in that meadow. My thoughts drift back to those white, purple, and yellow wildflowers that I would press in my old books as a kid. I start to daydream of my very ideal childhood and it quickly turns to thoughts of him. As kids, I remember his hair was much more red and tamed down. As we got older, his hair color turned into a more serious reddish brown shade and sexy. Yup, he definitely got sexy. He finally grew into his teeth because as kids, I had to be honest, they were somewhat too big for his head. His eyes though, his vivid green eyes, even after all these years, still stayed the same. I always loved how everything else could change but those green eyes never did. But too soon, I suddenly catch the scent of bread and hot dogs, taking me away from my meadow thoughts. I turn around and see Alice, holding a waddling Rosalie's hand. Rosalie is carrying around a blue and yellow, oily paper bag. The oil made the bag transparent enough so I could see something was half-eaten inside of it.

"Look who I found outside eating a Wetzel's Pretzel hot dog," Alice smiles shyly at me.

"I also needed to go to the bathroom too," Rosalie huffs out, snatching her hand away from Alice abruptly. "I still want Gold Medal Ribbon ice cream and salt-n-vinegar chips," adding a pout at the end.

I see Alice bite the inside of her left cheek and then she turns to me, "So, what's the verdict?"

I point to the small stack on the floor and say, "Steve Madden for the bachelorette party, Jeffrey Campbell for the bachelor party, Something Bleu for the wedding." Alice starts to jump up and down like a small, yippy Chihuahua. I make my way to the registers mumbling about wanting some Baskin Robbins too. But Alice keeps talking to the air around us about how I'm getting better at shopping and fashion decisions. Rosalie and I let her yapper on, hoping her mouth will get dry or a bug will fly into it. In any event, it'll make her stop talking and we can laugh at her.

Later that afternoon we are lounging around my place, eating Rosalie's crazy pregnant lady craving food of the day. Rosalie clears her throat and asks me, "So, Bella, remind me again who is picking you up at the airport tomorrow?"

"My friend, Edward. Edward Cullen." I answer back as nonchalantly as possible.

"Oh, rightrightright. Edward Cullen." Rosalie and Alice's eyes dart to one another and they seem to be enjoying some inside joke. Rosalie dives into her bowl of ice cream and crushed up salt-n-vinegar chips. She scoops up more of her ice cream and potato chip concoction into her mouth and then licks the spoon clean. "Edward Cullen. He's got such an old man name. But I bet you probably think his name is perfection."

Do not blush Bella, stuff your face with ice cream, munch on more chips. Repeat the process again. Do not blush Bella, stuff your face with ice cream, munch on more chips.

"Oh Rose, quit teasing her," Alice says as she moves to refill her bowl with more ice cream. Just as she gets up to go to the kitchen, she whisphers in my ear, "And for the record Bella, we know. We know everything."

I can't help but bitchface both of them in that moment. They couldn't possibly know one thing about Edward Cullen.