CHAPTER 3

"It's as if the man has made it his personal mission in life to discredit the belief that men are the smarter gender. Saint Varner should martyr himself for the sake of our sins and migraines!" Rose is ranting and raving while stacking folding chairs against the wall. She's flushed with a mixture of anger and amusement. The lovely color only does more to add to her already blinding beauty.

Rose is stunning. There is really no other way to put it. At 17 she is already the goddess of flipping desire amongst us mere mortals. Where I'm pale, Rose has lovely alabaster skin that glows. Wide blue eyes that color rivals the most tropical ocean, she stands at 5'8" towering over Mary Alice and myself. Not to mention her figure. Which of course one has to mention or the men in town will sneer at you. Large full firm breasts, what must be an unhealthy small waist, and lovely hips make up the most impressive hourglass I've yet to see in my time on earth. Add that to the thick, wavy white blonde hair that ends in the middle of her back and BOOM! There you have it. A walking wet dream.

However as disgustingly beautiful she is, Rose's appearance is only the surface of her true attraction. She's simply radiates confidence, her intellect at 17 rivals most adult men in town, she's witty, determined, strong and quick thinking. A natural strategist, no man visiting or residing in town has managed to beat her in a game of chess since we were twelve. It has been said on more than one occasion that it only takes meeting her one time to realize that she was born to be a leader. She'd no doubt be the future leader of the country if she had not had the misfortune of being born female.

"In all fairness to him, he is dealing with a group of lesser beings that barely have the mental capacity to walk a straight line without direction from a strong male figure. He has to break down the complex teachings of the good book to a way oversized toddlers can understand. Perhaps he'll just have us color pictures next week." Mary Alice giggles as she sits on the snack table swinging her legs back and forth.

Where Rose looks like walking sex, Mary Alice is simply ethereal. There's really no other way to describe her. Tiny thing barely standing at five feet, she has a presence that must be acknowledged and is slow to be forgotten. Hair so black that it nearly looks blue hangs to her waist, always managing to whip gently about her from soft breezes (that must be there but I can never fucking feel) only adds to her supernatural attractiveness. Huge doe gray eyes with lashes that tickle her cheeks when she blinks, has brought the firmest patriarch in a snug place around her smallest finger. The rest of her equally perfect. Her body delicate but curvy, neither too much or too little of anything. She just…. Works. Where Rose is cinnamon, spicy, daring, and bold. Mary Alice is vanilla. Sweet and adaptable. Add her to any group or mixture and she fits right in while adding that extra something that makes takes whatever she's involved in from good to astounding.

Me? I'm nutmeg. Needing to be handled and added with a delicate hand otherwise I will overpower and fuck up some shit. Countless people have ruined pies and pastries from adding too much or too little nutmeg. Few people are able to handle my flavor of personality on their pallet. I've been spoiling good times for as long as I can remember. What can I say? It's a gift.

I have wild curly brown hair with red highlights that hangs to my shoulders. I stand at about 5'2" with a nice tone build. I'm no otherworldly beauty, but I wouldn't call myself plain. I have two features that seem to stand out. The first being my eyes. They're a shocking shade of violet. Scared the pure hell out of my father when he saw them. He probably still isn't fully convinced that I'm not the child of Satan. The second and more annoying would be my rear. Although when one's posterior has the circumference of mine you really have to respect it and call it an ass. There are nice bubble bottoms that Rose and Mary Alice have been blessed with. And then there's speculation that someone must have shoved two basketballs down the back of your pants while you weren't looking ass that I have.

My poor father. The blasted thing terrifies him. He's convinced that she must be getting up eating snacks in the middle of the night while we sleep. Madame Rump is a blessing and a curse really. I got away with my tom-boy phase for much longer than I would have otherwise because Charles was all for me keeping Madame Rump under wraps. However once I reached the age where that was no longer acceptable the job became finding a way to cover her up. In pants she sticks out invitingly swaying back and forth through no help of mine's because believe me I don't walk with a switch. And in dresses? Well…let's just say that there is a very pronounced jiggle in spite of my athletic build that has been the cause of more than one gentleman walking cheek first into a pole.

I pity him really. The poor man doesn't know what to dress me in. He once overheard a group of men saying that the good lord saw fit to bless my future husband with a wife that has an ass meant for spanking, and a mouth that will surely beg for one. After that fine tidbit he took to pairing every one of my outfits with one of his oversized flannel shirts. Either to be tied around my waist or worn over my clothing. With jeans it's not so awful. With my church dress… it looks a bit bizarre.

We manage to finish cleaning with little help from Mary Alice in record time. We then laughingly make our way home. Stopping first to drop off Rose, then Mary Alice until finally I have the remaining five minute to my house. At the top of the walk, a man comes out on the porch with Charles. He's a handsome blonde middle aged man. He's wearing a suit and a smile that could melt a glacier. They shake hands and I hear the end of their conversation.

"It was great to see you Chief Swan! I'll be sure to bring my nephew by to make introductions within the next two weeks. I've no doubt that this will be a very promising match for both of our families." The smiling devil says cheerfully.

"Yes it's about time. I hear good things about your family. If anybody can grab ahold of Isabella's reigns I gather one of you all have a better chance than most. Here she is now. Isabella! This is Dr. Carlisle Cullen. You'll be seeing him again soon. Come and make your introductions." Charles says to me.

"Hello father. Dr. Cullen, I promise you if my father is sick it isn't due to my cooking. He should really stop that disgusting habit of smoking cigars that he seems to think no one can smell on his clothing." I say boldly shaking the doctor's hand. Dr. Cullen throws his head back and laughs loudly. "My, my, my Charles you were right. She is a piece of work. Yes I think she would do Edward some good. He's naturally amazing at everything so easily it'll be nice to see him confront a true challenge. Hello my dear. Your reputation precedes you but doesn't do you justice." Carlisle beams down at me. It would be impossible to not like the man, however I manage the impossible all the time.

"Yes, I am a character I assure you sir. You'll have to forgive me, Charles hasn't done you the pleasure of mentioning you at all. Father I assume that you and I have a few things to discuss once your guest is gone. I'll leave you to it then." I say cheekily. My father's jaw is clinched tightly. Dr. Cullen simply looks amused- the bastard. I know I'll be getting in trouble for that bit of disrespect in front of company. On top of the outburst in class. Oh well. In for a penny in for a pound. I make my way to the kitchen to start dinner. Thinking on whoever this Edward character is. It seems my dear father has already found me a potential husband. Great. Jerk can't wait to get rid of me. I hear the door close and turn around at the sink with my arms folded. Ready to go to battle knowing I'm going to lose.

So this is it. The beginning of the end.