Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter II
Independent

"Bella! Wake up!"

I opened my eyes sleepily and the first things I saw were the bright blue eyes of Rosalie, who was sitting on the edge of my bed, shaking me from sleep.

"What is it?" I muttered. I reluctantly sat up and rubbed my eyes.

"Emmett just called me," she said, eyes sparkling. Just like that, I came to full alert.

"What did he say?" I demanded.

"Well…"

I looked at her expectantly.

"I didn't actually answer it," she admitted sheepishly.

I sighed. "And why not?"

"Because it's only been twelve hours. Doesn't that seem a little desperate of him to call and of me to pick up?"

I groaned. "Rosalie. Forget all those stupid rules and call him back. God, you're not in high school anymore."

"Fine," she huffed. "You know, you're not very nice sometimes, Bella."

"Yeah, well, someone just woke me up in a not-so-gentle way," I retorted as she left the room.

Deciding that sleep was impossible now, I peeled back the covers and headed to my closet. I put on jeans and a t-shirt which was about as fancy as I ever got and then brushed my hair. As I brushed, my thoughts drifted off to last night. In all honesty, Edward's comment was still bothering me. Of course I had always known that I was plain, but no one had actually ever confirmed it for me.

I touched the handle of a drawer I hadn't touched since freshman year and pulled it open, revealing a few makeup items. My fingers wandered to a tube of mascara and I picked it up, holding it in front of me. I bit my lip. Was Edward's opinion of me really causing this much thought? Wrong question. Should Edward's opinion of me cause this much thought? I knew the correct answer was no.

Someone knocked on my bedroom door, and I hid the black tube behind my back. Rosalie let herself in and smiled radiantly at me.

"What did he say?" I asked, repeating my question from earlier.

"All the boys are going fishing so Jessica, Lauren, and Esme invited me to dinner tomorrow night for some girl time. Great, huh?" She beamed.

"I guess so…"

Rose's face fell. "What do you mean, 'you guess'?"

"I just don't feel comfortable with you hanging out with his sisters alone. I don't like them. They'll probably interrogate you to make sure that you're good enough for their brother."

"Relax, Bella," Rose laughed. "You're forgetting that Esme will be there too. She won't let anything like that happen."

I thought over it for a minute.

"And I'll call you if I feel uncomfortable," she promised.

I smiled. "That makes me feel better."

"Good," she smiled. Then she noticed the hand behind my back. I'd forgotten about it myself actually.

"What's that, Bella?"

"Um…" I hesitated, trying to figure out a way to get out of this one.

She held out her hand. "Let me see."

I sighed. There was no resisting Rosalie. She'd get her way eventually. I brought my hand our from behind me and dropped the mascara into her hands.

Now Rose was the one who sighed. "Bella, this isn't still about last night, is it?"

She took my silence as a yes.

"Like I said before, he doesn't need the satisfaction of your hurt. Ignore it. Didn't you say that Emmett thought you were very pretty?"

"Yeah. So?"

She gave me an exasperated look. "So Edward's expectations of 'pretty' can't be achieved in reality. He'll probably search the world his whole life looking for his idea of beauty and find nothing."

"He thought you were worth looking at," I said. I hadn't been sure what was bothering me most about all this, but I had finally pinpointed it.

"'Worth looking at' isn't the same as pretty. Bella, I know you're beautiful, and you know you're beautiful. That's all that matters here. Please, please, don't think twice about what that jackass said to you. Promise me?"

I nodded.

"Good." She patted my hand.

***

The next morning, Rosalie woke with a headache and a sore throat.

"You'd better call Esme and tell her you won't be able to make it tonight," I advised her.

She gave me an incredulous look. "What makes you think I'm not going?"

"Rose," I warned. "You need to rest. You're sick. Really sick."

"I'll be fine," she insisted. I could see it in her eyes that she was completely set on going, and nothing I said could make her change her mind.

"At least go for a nap."

She pondered this for a second.

"I think I will. Make sure I'm up by 4:30."

"Alright," I agreed soothingly. "If you need anything, let me know."

She nodded and climbed the stairs to her bedroom.

4:30 rolled around and Rosalie descended the stairs before I could wake her up. She was all dressed up, and looked spectacular, despite being ill. I could tell she wasn't feeling any better. If anything, she was worse.

"Call me if you feel too sick to drive and need a ride home," I told her. She nodded weakly.

"Where exactly do they live?"

"Seattle," she sniffed. "I left the address on the refrigerator."

"Okay. Remember, call if you need anything."

"Thanks, Bella." I watched her start the car and drive out of sight.

Turning away from the window, I shook my head. Rosalie was so stubborn. Almost as stubborn as I could be.

I walked into the kitchen where I found Jasper sitting on the counter, eating a bag of chips.

"Wanna play chess?" he asked.

"Maybe later. I'm going to start on supper right now," I said, taking the bag from his hands.

"I'll help," he offered.

We worked efficiently and in steady conversation. Jasper and Rosalie were definitely the two closest people in the world to me. Part of it was the face that we were almost the same age, but for the most part, it was because we had such similar personalities.

"When is Sue coming home?" Jasper asked as he ripped lettuce.

"Whenever she gets bored at the hospital."

"And Dad?"

"In a few hours, I think. He's training a new police officer."

"Fun." I could hear the smile in Jasper's voice. He was obviously imagining our father's frustration in teaching a young guy.

"Oh yes," I replied, smiling as well.

Just then my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out, I glanced at the caller idea, then flipped it open.

"Rose?"

A soft voice responded. "Hello, Bella. It's Esme Cullen."

I paused. "Oh. Hi. Is everything okay?"

"Actually, Rose is very sick."

I felt my stomach drop. "What happened?"

"She took one bite of her dinner and was unable to keep it down. She's in the guest bedroom now, resting."

I swallowed and spoke in a whisper.

"Does…does she need to go to the hospital?"

Esme started to laugh. "Of course not, Isabella. Rosalie just has stomach flu. Carlisle is on his way home. He'll make sure she is well cared for until she gets better."

"She isn't coming home tonight?" I asked, surprised.

"Oh goodness, no. She's too sick to be in a car."

"Oh no," I whispered. "Poor Rose."

"Don't worry, Isabella."

"You can call me Bella," I said weakly.

"Bella, then. We'll take good care of her, and we'll phone you tomorrow with an update. Take care, sweetie."

And then she hung up the phone.

"Is she okay?" Jasper asked.

"I—I hope so. She threw up. Esme says its stomach flu."

"Are you going to pick her up, or do you want me to?"

I started shaking my head before he was finished. "She wouldn't do well in a car. She'd get sick. Esme says that they'll keep her until she's feeling better."

We finished cooking in silence. Leah and Seth were quite talkative at dinner, but I was silent. I knew Rose would wish I was with her, but I thought it was probably best if I didn't invite myself over.

Finally at eight o'clock, I couldn't wait any longer.

"Jasper, I'm going to check on Rose." I pulled out my phone to let Esme know, but Jasper stopped me.

"The storm is too bad. It won't work." I looked out the window, surprised to see that I had been too caught up in my own thoughts to notice there was a thunder shower going on. Of course it almost always rained in Forks, but this was a pretty serious storm. The kind that actually made me a little nervous.

"Then I guess I'll have to surprise them." Jasper raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

I grabbed the yellow post-it off the fridge and ran out the door to my old red truck. The ride to Seattle wasn't relaxing, that's for sure. I was already worried sick about Rosalie, but now I was tense about driving in so much rain.

I had just reached Seattle when my truck clunked and stopped running. I pulled over to the side of the road and tried to restart it. I must have tried at least a hundred times before realizing that it wasn't going to restart. I swore in my head, and looked at the address.

It wasn't too far away. About a ten minute run. I'd be soaked when I arrived, but Rose would be happy. I didn't want her having to get over the flu in a stranger's house.

I shoved the post-it in my pocket and jumped out of the truck. I didn't bother locking it—who on earth would want to steal it?

Seven minutes later, I was standing in front of a house double the size of all the other houses on the street. Rosalie's red Toyota was parked on the side of the street, and in the driveway there were two other vehicles—a black Mercedes and a silver Volvo.

I sprinted up the steps and knocked on the big red door. A short woman with blond hair tied up in a bun answered the door.

"Do the Cullens live here?" I asked her.

She looked me up and down, but nodded and let me in. I followed her down a long hallway as I admired the artwork on the walls.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Bella Swan. What is yours?"

The woman seemed surprised at my question.

"Lucy Frank."

"Nice to meet you," I said, smiling.

She smiled hesitantly back, and then stopped walking. I looked forward to see a very large door, two sizes bigger than any door I had ever seen. Lucy pushed open the door, revealing an enormous room. The walls were made of glass, and the floor made of hardwood. Furniture that probably cost more than my house lined the walls.

"Miss Bella Swan," Lucy announced, curtsying.

Oh. Now I understood. Lucy was a maid. These people were so rich they had a maid. I felt like I had just gone back 100 years.

"Bella?" Esme's shocked voice came from the side of the room. Her eyes were wide, but I could see no anger or annoyance in them. Carlisle stood beside her, looking quite calm except for the curiosity swimming in his eyes. Emmett looked quite pleased and he grinned at me. Jessica and Lauren looked…well, disgusted. I was dressed in sweats and a tee-shirt, which was quite a contrast compared to their designer clothes. And then there was Edward. He looked me up and down without expression. He avoided looking at my face, which I didn't understand. Was it possible he was ashamed of what he had said about me?

"I came to see my sister. Where is she?" I asked, pretending I hadn't noticed the uncomfortable atmosphere in the room.

"Right upstairs," Carlisle said.

"Lucy, get Miss Swan a towel," Edward said, speaking for the first time. His voice was grave and commanding.

I looked down at myself, suddenly remembering that I was soaking wet. Water had dripped off my clothes onto the floor, and I was now standing in a puddle.

I looked up at Carlisle and Esme with horror. "Oh, I'm so sorry! My truck broke down, so I had to run part way here."

"Not to worry," Esme said. "I understand."

Lucy started to leave the room but I reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Let me get it," I pleaded. I directed my glace at Carlisle. "Where is the bathroom?"

He frowned slightly and pursed his lips, but gave me directions.

"Lucy will get them. It's her job," Edward said again.

Now I was the one frowning. I didn't like the concept of maids. I completely understood that Esme and Carlisle where so busy that they didn't have time to do housework, but Lucy didn't need to be given orders like that. Like Edward was better than her.

"No, I would like to get it," I said stonily. "I don't need to be waited on, and Lucy doesn't need to be treated like you own her."

That left Edward reeling, and I took this as an opportunity to leave the room. I was a little worried that Esme and Carlisle would not be impressed with my attitude toward Edward, but when I returned to the room, I could see they were all highly amused. I was pretty sure that Edward didn't get people contradicting him often.

I started to bend down and mop up the water, but Esme was quicker. She took the towel from my hands and said, "Allow me."

I shook my head. "No, really, I came here uninvited and made a mess of—"

Carlisle interrupted me before I could finish. "I think Rosalie is still awake. Why don't we check?"

"Mmm…" I looked toward the staircase and then toward the floor. "Alright, just let me finish this." I soaked up the water before Esme could protest and then patted my clothes down so they would not drip further.

"Okay. I'm ready." Esme looked a little exasperated, but she was still smiling at me. I turned to follow Carlisle up the stairs, and he pointed me in the direction of the guest bedroom.

"Thank you," I said genuinely.

"Thank you," Carlisle replied with a glint in his eyes. I tried to ask him what he meant, but before I could speak, he was retreating down the stairs.

I pushed his comment to the back of my head for later analyzation, and entered Rose's room. She was awake and her expression lit the moment she saw me.

"Bella?" she rasped.

"Are you all right?" I asked. She nodded her head.

"Why are you all wet?"

"My truck broke down. I had to do a bit a running in the rain."

Rose laughed weakly. "Thanks, Bella."

"No problem. Anything for my sister," I smiled.

"Will you stay with me until I'm better?" she asked. Her eyelids where drooping, and I knew she would fall asleep soon.

"Of course," I whispered. "Like I said, anything for you."

It wouldn't be comfortable being here with Edward, but I would stay for Rose. I had a feeling that Emmett was the guy for her. It was obvious he already cared for her—I could see it on his face whenever Rose was mentioned. And I would do whatever it took to make her happy ending—or beginning, I should say, come true.