BELLA'S POINT OF VIEW


"But I just don't get it, Alice! Why is this guy, like, branded into my brain? He's just a guy! Jesus, listen to me! I sound like a fucking fangirl! I AM NOT A TEENYBOPPER AND HE IS NOT ZAC EFRON, ALICE! HE IS NOT! Explain to me exactly why I'm so obsessed with him!" I buried my head into my pillow, waiting impatiently for a feasible response.

"He obviously must have been SOMETHING, for you to be rambling incoherently like this..." she said calmly, eyes glazed over, staring into space. Then, quite suddenly, she snapped out of her trance-like state and pulled the pillow out of my hands, hugging it to her travel-sized frame.

"I still don't see why you couldn't just snap a picture of his supposedly 'fine' ass while he was bending over for you! Your phone was fully charged, so don't give me some crap excuse about battery loss," she pouted.

"Okay, first off, Al? There is nothing 'supposed' about the fineness of his ass, alright? His ass was, and is, FINE. F-I-N-E. It may as well have been a parking ticket, because it had FINE written all over-"

"ENOUGH! He had a fine ass! You so did NOT need to resort to a fucking lame pick-up line to make your point clear! Didn't I teach you anything?" her eyebrows furrowed together as she glared mercilessly at me, still half-smiling. It was obvious that she was trying to keep a straight face.

"Still doesn't explain why Little Miss PANSY over here didn't get any proof for Mama Alice! I'm ashamed of you, missy! Seriously, why didn't you get him under the counter, or at least in the bathroom? You keep going droning on and on about how fine his ass is. WHY DIDN'T YOU TAP THAT ASS? And you didn't even call me! I can't believe you let me go off and help out that fat dude when I totally could have been checking out the guy my Bella has the hots for! God, Bella! El Lardo had me searching around for twenty minutes for some movie he couldn't remember the name of, and I was being SO PATIENT and then he's all 'Oh, I remembered it! Can you help me find Epic Movie?' AND WE WERE IN THE FOREIGN DRAMAS, BELLA! HE WAS GOING ON ABOUT AN 'INDIAN DUDE' AND HIS QUEST TO SAVE THE WORLD! HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW HE WAS TALKING ABOUT THAT GUY FROM HOUSE THAT PLAYS KUMAR? THAT WAS, LIKE, THE WORST CUSTOMER EVER!"

I smiled involuntarily at Alice's rant. God, I loved her. She had been my best friend since birth, basically, and we were inseparable since then as well, living across the street from one another. When we both got into UDub, we moved in together with no second thoughts. Since then, we had moved out of our dorm and into an apartment close to Scarecrow, where we both worked together. She was one of my favorite people in the world, and I considered her my sister. We looked almost nothing alike, however.

She had the same sickly pale skin as me, and we both wished longingly for the ability to tan, but neither of us had ever been able to. We just burned. After an especially painful 'tanning' incident when we were fourteen, we banished all hope for a tan and stuck to sunscreen. That same summer, she decided to cut her waist-length hair into a cute pixie cut. She was the only one I had ever known with features feminine enough to pull off the androgyny of such short hair, and it suited her personality perfectly. If nothing else, she could most definitely be described as 'pixie-like', what with her tiny size and constant energy. I swear, it was like she had a constant flow of caffeine and amphetamines in her veins sometimes. But, oddly enough, she was completely straight-edge, compared to the average college student.

Her black pixie hair contrasted nicely with the creaminess of her skin and her huge, hazel eyes. She, like I, barely ever used makeup, and definitely didn't need it, either. She was blessed with extremely dark, long, thick, curly eyelashes that I had always envied. She, in turn, apparently envied my 'angelic blush' (her words, not mine). I didn't understand what she was talking about, honestly. My stupid blushing was a curse, and I hated constantly having to explain just why I was blushing. It was so embarrassing.

"BELLA! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?" Oh, crap.

"Yeah, I'm listening, okay, Alice? I'm sorry I left you with tubby. But I still don't know what to do about sexy hot guy!"

"Quit your whining, ho. He's eventually gonna have to return The Science of Sleep, you know. Seriously, man. Chillax."

--

Beep beep beep beep.

Beep beep beep beep.

Beep beep beep beep.

Beep beep beep beep.

"Bella, sweetie, it's time to wake up!" I always wondered how she managed to make words like 'up' sound like they had three syllables. I groaned, repositioning my pillow so it was covering my face.

Beep beep beep beep.

Beep beep beep beep.

"Bella? Oh Bell-ah? It's time to get up, Bells. Bella? Bella! BELLA! WAKE THE FUCK UP! WE NEED TO CARPOOL BECAUSE OF GLOBAL WARMING AND I AM SO NOT TAKING THE BUS THIS MORNING AND YOU ARE NOT GOING TO MAKE ME LATE! GET UP NOW! WE HAVE TO GO TO WORK! I CAN'T AFFORD TO BE LATE BECAUSE OF YOUR SORRY ASS!" God, she was scary.

Beep beep beep beep.

There was suddenly no beeping, and everything was bright. Wait... where did my pillow go? I opened one eye gingerly, to see a glaring Alice.

"Go away," I mumbled, shoving in her general direction and closing my eye again.

"Isabella Marie Swan," she said in an acid-like tone, "you are going to go take a shower and get up now, whether you like it or not!" I winced. She knew my weakness. I hated the name Marie, almost as much as I hated the name Isabella. This was hitting way below the belt.

But I knew that if I refused, she would resort to dragging me out of bed by my hair like last time. So I got up, eyes still closed, and reached around with my foot for the ground. Can't risk falling down again, I cursed, finally opening my eyes to check my footing. I made my way past Angry Alice and into our small bathroom. I stripped away my pyjamas and made my way into the shower-slash-bath, pulling the goldfish-printed shower curtain closed. I turned on the water, and shrieked when I realized it was on cold. I heard Alice chuckle in the distance. Goddamn whore, I thought. She planned that. She's just getting even because you decided not to get up on time. Stupid Alice. I adjusted the temperature to a comfortable heat, lathered myself with soap, and wet down my hair.

Reaching for my shampoo, I rubbed it between my hands and massaged my scalp, letting the lather bubble and engulf my head in a sweet strawberry scent. Rinsing it out, I shut off the water and squeezed out my locks, reaching for the coconut conditioner I was so fond of. I slathered it on the ends of my hair, and combed it out, spreading it out evenly. Then I pulled all of my hair, still saturating, into a messy bun, and began to shave my legs.

I hated shaving my legs. It was definitely something I put off until it was necessary, as it was so time-consuming and annoying. I was not to be trusted with a razor, what with my clumsiness, and oft found myself covered in nicks and cuts and razor burn. But today I inexplicably found the need to shave, and soon found myself rinsing off the shaving cream and conditioner. I opened the shower curtain and reached for my Tony the Tiger towel that I had won so long ago off a cereal box.

Looking up at the mirror, I saw that I hadn't done that bad a job of my legs, and commended myself for only cutting myself twice. I smoothed some lotion on my skin and tried desperately to fix the mess that was my hair. Honestly, I should just pull a Britney and shave it all off. Or at least pull an Alice and cut it into an short cut... God, when was the last time I cut it, anyway? It's so long... argh I hate my hair! Realizing there was nothing to be done with my hair, I made my way back into the bedroom to see Alice lounging on my bed, holding up a mug of coffee as a peace offering.

"I made the hazelnut kind you like," she said, smiling sweetly up at me and donning her patented puppy-dog eyes. Well, fuck me. There's no way I could possibly stay mad at someone so cute.

"Thanks, sweets. Can I change now?"

"Of course, hun. But I advise you to wear something hot, 'cause Sir Fine-Ass Guy is supposed to return his rentals today!" she sing-songed, closing the door with a wink. Trust Alice to remember a complete stranger's due dates.

I opened my closet, looking through my modest selection of clothing. Hot damn. I need to go shopping. After much speculation, I decided on a black t-shirt dress and some black mocassins. I topped it all off with a few bracelets and my favorite necklace, a long chain with a gold money sack on it. I was feeling pretty stylish, walking out the door, until I laid eyes on Alice.

Alice never ceased to amaze me. She was the epitome of cool, and always dressed the part. Today, for example, she was wearing a very French-looking boatneck navy and white striped dress. On anyone else, this dress would have put any flaws on the wearer in plain view. However, with her doll-like figure, she pulled it off with flying colors and managed to make it look adorable. Then, as always, she added something a bit edgier to even out the cuteness. Today it was the necklace I had given her for her eighteenth birthday, the long chain with the charm of a hand throwing up the horns in a very "rock on" manner. She slung a skinny studded belt loosely around her waist and threw on a killer pair of plum-colored ankle boots, and she was ready to go.

It always gave me a twinge of envy, watching her put together an outfit so easily and managing to look amazing. Had I worn what she was wearing today, I most likely would have been pointed out and laughed at. She, however, always seemed to look chic and put together. I aspired to someday be as stylish as Alice was.

"Which car are we taking?" I asked. "My truck's running out of gas but we could take it if you wanted, we'd just have to stop..."

"We can take mine, Bella. I just wanna get there quickly so we can help Big Sexy Man return his movies!" she exclaimed, bouncing in place. We made our way out the door of the apartment and down to the garage. There, we spotted a red Chevy pickup truck and a blue Volkswagen Beetle. Both were equally antique. Among the many things Alice and I had in common was our love of old cars and dislike for newer models. Her 1962 Beetle (named Frank) was her pride and joy, as was my red Chevy (Chester).

We made it to Scarecrow and found a parking spot in record time. I parked and we got out, making our way inside.

--

It was 4:38, and I has been waiting pathetically all day for Sex Machine to walk through the door, turning eagerly towards it every time a new customer came in.

"Hey, Alice. I'ma go get some lunch, 'kay? Do you want me to pick you up anything?" I questioned, sick of waiting around. He isn't coming, I might as well at least take my break.

"Sure, babe. Can you get me a turkey sandwich on rye and a Coke?"

"Okay, cool. Call me if Foxy Groove Thang shows up, alright? I want to finally get his name so we can stop referring to him as 'La Renarde' or 'That One Hot Guy', because it's starting to get degrading towards him, you know? I feel kinda bad constantly calling him-" I froze.

Stud Muffin was in the building.


hey guys (:

everything's cool here at the mo, last night we just had a ton of rain and winds and whatnot, and the occasional flickering of the power and stuff. but nothing too terrible, so i'm really happy cuz we didn't die :D

anyways. hope you enjoyed the first chapter, even though it didn't really amount to anything...

um. outfits are up on my profile, just so you know.

and also: it has come to my attention that i don't have any fancy disclaimers up on this story. so, without further ado:

I AM NOT STEPHANIE MEYER.

I DO NOT HAVE EVEN HALF AS MUCH MONEY AS SHE DOES, AND IF I DID, I SO WOULDN'T BE ON FANFICTION RIGHT NOW. I'D BE HAVING SEX WITH RUPERT GRINT IN A LIMO, OKAY? AND IF I WAS STEPHANIE MEYER, I'D MOST LIKELY BE KILLING MYSELF. BECAUSE STEPHANIE MEYER KILLED TWILIGHT AND IT MAKES ME SICK THAT SHE ACTUALLY BIRTHED RENESMEE AND THEN HAD JACOB IMPRINT ON HER!! WTF?! SHE SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN BORN IN THE FIRST PLACE, AND IT'S JUST WEIRD, HAVING JAKE GETTING BUSY WITH HIS EX-LOVE'S DAUGHTER! LIKE THE WHOLE WOODY ALLEN/MIA FARROW THING, ONLY WITH THE PARANORMAL! NOT COOL!

ok. breathe, catie, breathe. caaaaaalm.

review, my dearies! please? i love you all.

catie