A/N: Thank you so much to the few of you that reviewed! I wish all readers could be as awesome as you guys. =]

Okay, so I know I said there'd be some APOV and BPOV in this chapter but I realized that I needed to start of in EPOV. The dynamic here between Edward and Carlisle is important. But if you're patient and you read the whole chapter, you'll get some APOV. I had to cut the BPOV from this chapter. It would've been information over-load. So that just gives you something to look forward to for chapter 4.

With a few minor exceptions, these are not my characters. They're all Stephanie Meyers's.

EPOV

And so here I sit, in a small enclosure filled with endless white. Fucking white. Carlisle and I had been been sitting in this room for easily twenty or so minutes, him in the hard plastic chair and me on the examination bed covered in that annoying, crinkly paper shit. Both our thoughts were on the same wave-length.

Impatience.

Where the hell was this doctor? Carlisle had taken me all the way to a hospital in Seattle. He told me it was because there would be better care at a big city hospital as apposed to the tiny hospital he worked at in Forks. And this wasn't a complete lie. I knew there would be better care here, but I also knew that he didn't want everyone he worked with knowing that his "son" was in the hospital because he was nut job.

The line of Carlisle's thinking gave me the impression that Carlisle didn't have the best of feelings towards the doctor who would be talking with me. Like most medical and surgical doctors, he felt that psychiatry wasn't a real practice, that shrinks weren't "real doctors." I disagreed. Though, honestly, I probably wouldn't have had an opinion, but at that moment I truly hated my adoptive father. So, infantile as it was, I decided that I would disagree with him on just about anything at the moment. And I also learned from Carlisle's thoughts that he'd once worked with this guy. I got a flash of something else with the memory. Something with a heavy feeling of dislike behind it but Carlisle obviously didn't want to think about the memory because it was clearly an ugly one. But apparently this doctor was the best that the city had to offer.

So now I sit here, awaiting my fate like a felon on trial. I really should've seen this coming. This was exactly why I didn't care to let him in on my little secret. Forever being Doctor Dad, I knew that he'd take a medical approach to this. 'There's always a scientific answer to every question,' he once told me. So, in his mind, there was no way in hell that the voices I heard were real, no matter how hard I tried to convince him with my infallible proof. Or so I thought it was infallible.

The white door swung open swiftly and a white doctor with white hair and a white lab coat entered the threshold.

"Good morning, Carlisle," he said as he entered, throwing a cordial nod in Carlisle's direction. Carlisle returned the gesture.

"Dave," he said with a nod of his own. The doctor turned to me, his hand outstretched to shake mine.

"And you must be Edward." I shook his hand, nodding at his assumption. "I'm Doctor Reed." he said with a smile. His thoughts seemed friendly enough; I wasn't going to like hating him once he told me that I'm a lunatic. He sat down in a swivel stool in front of a desk with an ancient looking computer and a whole mess of papers. He held a clipboard in his hand and reviewed the documents attached to it, which I assumed to be my chart or patient history. "Hmm…" he said thoughtfully. No history of mental illness in the family or anything indicative of mental instability. But he is at that age… Huh, I wonder…

"Have you ever had any experience with drug use, Edward?" he asked. Fuck. I didn't have to be a mind-reader to see that coming. I hesitated, wondering if it would be better if I just lied. But Carlisle quirked an eyebrow at my hesitation and I knew that it made no difference now. If I was going to be fucked, might as well get fucked thoroughly.

"Yeah, a little…" I said. I maintained eye-contact with the good doctor but I could hear Carlisle's sigh and the simultaneous disappointment that now flooded his thoughts.

"What drugs have you used?" Dr. Reed asked.

I had to think about it for a moment. I wasn't a drug addict by any stretch but I had done my fair fucking share of experimenting. "Umm, lemme think," I said. I counted off on my fingers. "Alcohol, marijuana, muscle relaxers, Tussin, mushrooms, Adderall, Xanax, cocaine…" The shock in both Carlisle and Dr. Reed's thoughts grew louder and louder as my list grew longer and longer. "… Oxycotin, Morphine, Codeine, Seraquol, ecstasy, opium, acid, mesacline, Quaaludes… " Their shock was louder still. Some of this shit was hardly even around anymore. "… Methadone, Perocet Vicodin and Valium. Oh yeah, and peyote."

The wordless shock of their thoughts was comical. It almost made me laugh.

Almost.

And then Dr. Reed collected his thoughts. Holy shit, no wonder this kid's hearing voices. he thought. I'm surprised he's even breathing. I could see what he was thinking.

"Don't get me wrong." I said. "Yeah, I've tried a lot of sh- …stuff, but most of it I only ever did once. I've only habitually used alcohol and marijuana. Oh, and the occasional Adderall when I need to study and sometimes Xanax when I get stressed out." This didn't seem to ease either of their thoughts.

"It says here…" he held up the chart. "…that you've recently started hearing voices in your head. Were you under the influence when the voices first appeared?" he asked.

"Well, it was the next morning." I told him. "I kinda blacked out." I added sheepishly.

"What had you taken?"

"Ecstacy. A pretty large amount, too. And I'd smoked weed and drank a good amount alcohol not too long before that."

A knowing look crossed his face. Ahh, ecstasy. That makes sense. "And how long ago did this happen?"

"Beginning of September… so, about three and a half months ago."

The doctor suddenly looked incredulous, his blue eyes widening. "You've been walking around hearing voices in your head for nearly four months and you just decided not to tell anybody? You didn't even think to seek any kind help?" I could tell by the backing of his thoughts that he didn't mean to sound accusatory, but his tone still pissed me off a little. But I tried my best to remain calm.

"Well, it's not exactly like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," I explained. "I don't hear random voices. I hear other people's voices. I hear their thoughts."

What? That can't be possible. But maybe… no. It can't be. His thoughts were a blur. They were so confused that they nearly drowned out Carlisle's - who was sadly thinking that I was diluted like he had when I first tried convincing him of my mind-reading the night before. Dr. Reed now sat in the stool, dumbfounded, switching back and forth between wanting to believe and knowing that it was impossible. He looked me in the eye after a second and his thoughts spoke directly to me. I wonder… Can you hear me right now? he asked me silently. I glanced over at Carlisle, who was still shaking his head and looking at the floor sadly. I turned back to the doctor and just nodded, answering his question.

For a moment, I was sure I had him convinced. But my hopes were quickly crushed when he started shaking his head. No, it can't be. he thought. This isn't right. It's not natural. It's a fluke. Now I was starting to get fucking pissed. Hadn't I just answered his silent query? Shouldn't that be all the proof he needs? Sure, it wasn't natural, but he was a fucking shrink! Shouldn't he of all people have an answer as to how this was possible?

He began asking me leading questions. I knew where he was going with this from the instant he started asking them. And I answered them honestly. Shit, it couldn't hurt, right? But the scary thing was, I answered "yes" to most of them.

"Do you have commonly have mood swings? "

"Yes."

"Do your mood swings cause problems with friends and family?"

"Yes."

"Do your mood swings lead to lulls in productivity that last more than a few days?" Carlisle looked up when Dr. Reed asked this. It didn't take him long to figure out where the doctor was going with this, either.

"Sometimes."

"Do your mood states last for days at a time and change when something good happens?"

"Usually."

"Do other people notice and comment when your mood shifts?"

I snorted. "Always."

"Do your mood swings noticeably change the way you think, perceive and sleep or effect your energy and activity levels?"

"Yeah, I guess…"

"Do your mood swings ever get so out of hand that the police have to be called or a hospitalization becomes necessary?" I winced at this. Yeah, there had been one or two instances where I'd gone a little overboard. I had a few Disorderly Conducts under my belt and one time I was nearly arrested on Battery charges. I could see Carlisle's thoughts flicker to those instances, too.

"Umm… yeah." I responded. There were other questions, too. Questions about feeling anxious or panic-y. Questions about frugal spending. Questions about being overly sexually oriented. I laughed at this. What seventeen year old male wasn't overly sexually oriented? And more questions about periods of euphoric, non-drug induced highs and deep, depressive lows. And questions about suicide.

And I could hear the diagnoses in Reed's head before it came out of his mouth. I shouldn't have been surprised, I knew where his questions were leading from the very beginning. But it was still weird to hear the words come out of his mouth and know that he was talking about me.

"Edward, from what you've told me I can only draw one conclusion, one that I feel is accurate." He sighed then. "You have Type 2 Bipolar Disorder and Simple Schizophrenia, which the later of the two I feel is drug induced. Carlisle," he said, turning to him. "I'm urging you to have him admitted immediately. This has gone untreated for too long. I suggest you fill out his paperwork upstairs today and come back first thing tomorrow morning." Carlisle nodded and for as much as I hated him for agreeing to have me "admitted", the tone of his thoughts made my heart break a little.

Why didn't I notice anything before? How could I've been that abstracted? I've failed as a father. This is my fault. What a poor father I've been to him. He must hate me. I wouldn't blame him. And he was right, part of me did hate him. But not for that reason. And while I didn't call him "Dad", he was the closest fucking thing I'd ever had to a father. And while I actually didn't doubt the doctor's first diagnosis, I didn't blame Carlisle for not seeing it before. How could I blame him?

But now the anger set in. I was going to be admitted to the fucking psyche ward. I knew I wasn't "normal" but I was definitely not so far gone that I was fit for the psyche ward. And I was slightly nervous. I'd never been there before. The only impression I had was from movies and t.v. shows. Images of straight jackets, padded rooms and electroshock therapy ran through my mind. It appeared that while I was mulling all of this over, Carlisle and Dr. Reed were having a discussion.

"Inpatient, I'm assuming." Carlisle said. I'd noticed just then that his skin seemed paler and his forehead was crinkled with stress lines. No surprise there. Having a kid, who he wished so much he could call son, committed to the nut house wasn't exactly a stress-free event.

"You assume correct." Dr. Reed replied.

"How long?"

"It depends. I'd like to keep him inpatient for a month, maybe less if he's cooperative and makes good progress. Then I'd like to continue with outpatient therapy for at least a couple of weeks."

Carlisle nodded in understanding. "That's a long time, Dave. It's seems extreme."

"It's an extreme case, Carlisle."

A month? And then at least another two weeks of therapy after that? Fuck. I leaned back and rested my head against the cold white wall but the other two men stood up.

"Would you like me to call for an orderly to assist the two of you to the fourth floor." Dr. Reed asked. It sounded like an innocent enough offer but the thought behind it suggested that Carlisle couldn't handle his own kid. It sort of irked me and I wasn't the only one to pick up on the hidden meaning. Carlisle stiffened slightly and lifted his chin up a little.

"I'm sure Edward will be more than cooperative, thank you." Carlisle responded. I'd never really seen him sneer at someone before so it sort of took me aback. There was clearly something more than just differing opinions of practice that fueled this passive aggressiveness but I was too distracted by fucked up thoughts of being strapped to a table while electric currents are being run through my brain by some creepy as fuck doctor. Before I knew it, Carlisle was escorting me out the door and leading me to the elevators at the end of the hall.

"I'm sorry, Edward." he said as we waited for the elevator door to open. I didn't respond, because he wasn't sorry for not believing me and he wasn't sorry for where he was about to take me and leave me for a month. He was still fucking sorry for "failing as a father."

I looked him dead in the eye. "That's not what you should be sorry for…"

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APOV

It was a good day for me. I was practically humming with excitement. He was coming today. I'd seen a vision of him two nights ago when his father figure - I didn't understand their relationship - made the decision to bring him to this hospital. Tall, fair-skinned, green eyes, messy reddish-brown hair and damn, he was good-looking. But I already knew that he wasn't meant for me. We were to be friends. And he would lead me to the boy that I'd been dreaming of since I first starting having the visions nearly five years ago. I couldn't believe that I was so close to finally knowing Jasper. But I still had to earn it. I could tell that this new boy, Edward was his name, wouldn't be easy to get along with. Persistence. I would just have to be persistent.

We were sitting in the Big Room on the couches. It did suck that 17 year olds had to be in the Pediatric wing of the psyche ward. I was the second oldest one here. But Sandra, the other girl my age, wasn't very social. I think she thought she was a vampire or something. She was the only one not on a couch. She was standing in the shadowed corner of the room, as if the light was going to kill her or something. Emo faker. I'd seen her type in every psyche ward I'd been to. She was the kind of person who'd create problems to cry about - mostly complaining about her parents - and then cut herself, claiming she wants to die. They were always the same. If they really wanted to die, then they'd be dead. Simple as that. I could see that Sandra would be pregnant in a year, when she'd be going through her Ghetto/Baby Phat/Lil Wayne phase. I took comfort in that thought.

We were all here having our morning group session. I'd given up long ago on trying to convince psychologists that my visions weren't hallucinations, so now I just played the game. The group counselor, Ann, reminded me of a modern Mary Poppins, except Mary Poppins would've been a wonderful break from this sickeningly sweet woman. She always had her light brown hair pulled back in a perfect bun with just the right amount of rouge on her cheeks. As I thought about it, Ann was more like Snow White. I pictured her in a forest wearing a frilly pink dress, singing in a shrilling soprano to all the adorably cute animals that surrounded her. I snorted quietly to myself, but it was just loud enough that Peter, the 14 year-old boy with PTSD who was sitting next to me, looked at me questioningly. I smiled and shook my head at him in a way that said "don't ask."

Ann was in charge of working with the younger kids. It was a glorified baby-sitting job.

Chester was the exact opposite and usually much easier to deal with. He was a poser hippie. He had his hair in long brown dreadlocks and wore those Indie rock looking glasses with thick, black plastic frames. He always wore a green velvet blazer with brown suede patches on the elbows to make him look more collegiate, I guess. Chester was your typical Seattle college student who probably spent his weekends protesting for the legalization of marijuana or something. He was actually pretty awesome, despite the fact that his whole demeanor screamed "I'm cool because even though I'm an authority figure, I sit in chairs backwards and I let you cuss when you talk to me." The best part about Chester was that he was the only counselor I'd ever talked to who truly believed that my visions were, in fact, visions and not hallucinations. Right now, he was sitting on top of the table in the corner of the room that was closest to me. He hardly ever sat on a real chair and when he did, it was always flipped around with the back of the seat in front of him.

"Alice?"

I was pulled out of my thoughts suddenly by Ann. "Yes?" I asked sweetly.

"I was just wondering how your evening went last night?" This was the standard practice. They asked us this to see if we'd had any "episodes" or breakdowns after they left for the evening.

"Oh, well, you see…" I said. And then sighed. "I'd really rather not talk about it in front of everyone." I looked down at my lap. Ann quickly wrote something down on the papers in front of her and I shot Chester a quick glance. He looked back at my pointedly. He knew what I was trying to do. He turned to Ann to speak.

"Maybe Alice could come speak with me about it privately?" And then he turned to me. "Unless, of course, you don't want to." I shook my head vehemently.

"No, Chester. I know that I need to talk about it when these types of things happen."

"That's a very healthy way to view it, Alice." Ann told me, looking back up from her papers. "I think you're getting better by the day." She was beaming at me. Ugh. Gag me.

"Would you like to go talk about it now?" Chester asked.

"Please?" I nearly pleaded. Chester nodded and hopped down from the table, though it was more like he glided off of it. His legs were so long that they were already touching the carpet as he sat. He walked out of the room and I followed after him, closing the door behind me. Because he was so tall and I was so short, I had to jog to catch up to him. He slowed his pace for me so I only had to move at a brisk walk now.

We made our way down the hall of the pediatric side of the ward and turned left into the main, adult ward. We quickened our pace just a bit. He knew I hated going through this hall. Though movies make psyche wards look much worse than they really are, they sure do get one thing right: the sounds. Every few rooms or so I could hear different sounds from their occupants. Some crying, some laughing, some simply babbling to themselves. On an off day I could even hear screaming. Fortunately, there were no screams today but we still hurried our way to the exit around the corner.

The psyche ward was on the uppermost level of the hospital, floor 13. I always thought that was a little ironic. We busted through the exit and up a short flight of concrete stairs until we reached the door at the top, which brought us to the roof. We went to our little spot by the ledge that looked out onto the downtown area of Seattle. Chester pulled out a pack of Camel lights from the pocket of his blazer and removed two cigarettes, handing one to me. He grimaced as he handed me a lighter and I lit mine.

"I really wish you didn't smoke." he said. He then proceeded to light his own. I rolled my eyes as I blew out smoke.

"I'm quitting the second I get out of here." I told him.

He took a drag off his cigarette and turned to look at the overcast skies above the downtown. "Uh huh. That's what they all say."

I shook my head and smiled a bit. Truth was, I really wasn't much of a smoker. Sure, I'd had a cigarette or two the very few times I'd partied, but I never smoked alone and I'd definitely never bought my own pack. I was only smoking now to get out of that stupid group session. And the light-headed buzz it gave me was pretty cool, too. I took another drag and remembered the other reason I wanted to get Chester alone.

"So, tell me about this Edward, guy." I said.

"How do you…? Oh, right." Chester said and laughed a little. I liked the fact that someone else actually believed in my visions. But then he shook his head. "Nope, can't even do it. Doctor, patient confidentiality."

"Says the guy supplying cigarettes to an underage crazy chick. Besides," I added. "You're not even a real doctor." Chester shook his head again, so I brought out the big guns. I jutted out my lower lip and widened my brown eyes ever so slightly in a pout that no one could refuse. Chester eyed me for a second before sighing in submission. I win, again. I thought smugly.

"Well, since I'm breaking all the rules as it is…" Chester said. I started clapping and bouncing up and down simultaneously.

"Yay!"

Chester shook his head and smiled again. Then he said "Alice, this kid's a real piece of work." he told me. "He's your textbook definition of a type 2 Bipolar Schizophrenic. Major mood swings, anger issues, hearing voices, the whole nine yards. He's an interesting choice in a friend."

"He's not my friend, yet."

"Wonder what makes him so significant to your future." he mused. He was absent-mindedly rolling his cigarette in between his fingers.

I shrugged. "I'm sure he'll lead me to him. I know he will."

We smoked silently for a few minutes, enjoying the fresh air. The sun even decided to appear for a minute or two through a break in the clouds. Then Chester checked his watch. "We need to head back." He put his cigarette out on the ledge. I took one more hit and did the same. He then pulled out a pack of gum and a tiny can of men's body spray. He handed me both. I quickly sprayed my clothes and popped a piece of the spearmint gum in my mouth. I handed the items back to him and he did the same. Then we quickly headed to the stairs. We raced through the main ward and rounded the corner to the pediatric wing. We stood just outside the door, trying to not look so flushed when the door to the Big Room opened and the others started filing out.

We were all headed to breakfast in the small, white dining room when the feeling hit me. That sudden sense of déjà vu that I always got when a scene from a past vision suddenly became my current reality. I'd seen this moment before - two nights ago, in fact - and I knew what was coming. Though I tried to avoid the collision that I knew was just around the corner, it was to no avail.

"Alice!" a voice shouted from behind me, just like in my vision. And I turned my head, even though I knew that that was a mistake, because it was rude not to answer someone when the wanted to talk to you. And just like in my dream, I felt like I was colliding with a moving brick wall as another person slammed into me, knocking me to the floor and a flurry of papers fell around me. And then I looked up, not at all surprised when I was met with a pair of exasperated-looking green eyes.

"Sorry…" we both said as we realized what had just happened. I waited for him to offer to help me up but he instead knelt down and began gathering the papers that had scattered all around me. I looked down and noticed that they were all either handwritten letters or drawings. I noticed one drawing in particular. It was of a gorgeous looking girl with full, pouty lips and soft, light-colored curls that hung just barely to her shoulders. Her smile, though I'm sure it was meant to look coy, looked smug and arrogant. But it was a beautiful drawing none-the-less. I picked it up and shuffled it into a pile of papers and handed it to the boy, who I knew was Edward.

"Here…" I said as he eyed them. He took them swiftly from my hands and muttered what I assumed was a reluctant "Thanks,". I was about to get up when Peter, who'd called my name before my run-in, held out his dark hand. I took it and he pulled me to my feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked in his middle-eastern accent.

"Yeah, thanks." I said. I glanced down at Edward, who had all of his papers gathered up and was straightening them out, before heading down to the dining\hall with Peter.

Peter sat next to me during breakfast, talking about some movie that was supposed to be coming out about the time he was set to leave the hospital. I think. I don't know, it might've been a book. I wasn't exactly paying attention. I was currently trying to figure out how I was going to get to know this Edward guy when he was clearly not here to make any friends. Quite frankly, he was pretty intimidating. It wasn't because was attractive. My self-esteem and confidence were higher than the average teenage girl's. It wasn't because of his "holier than thou" attitude that he exuded in his facial expressions and his swagger. I know I could be - and had been - accused of being the same way at times. And it definitely wasn't because he was so much taller than me. Everybody was taller me.

No, there was something there in his green eyes that made me uneasy. Something about him made me feel on display and embarrassed, as if he'd read my diary (if I'd had one) and knew all of my dirty little secrets, all the skeletons in my closet.

I had to know him.

After breakfast we were to work on school work. I was excited to learn that he, too, was from Forks. But I'd only attended Forks High School for one day. After I'd come home from school, I'd had a vivid vision and gone completely catatonic on the living room floor for nearly an hour. The vision wasn't even that important. Just a really, intense vision of a blizzard that was supposed to hit sometime in the late winter. It freaked my foster parents out, so they decided to take me to the hospital in Forks that night. The doctor there suggested a psychological evaluation and I was admitted to the psyche ward there in Forks. But after a month, my visions became more and more vivid (and harder to hide) so I was sent here to Seattle after it was clear that their therapies weren't "helping" me. I'd now been here for nearly two and a half months and it finally seemed that my "hallucinations" were becoming less frequent. Maybe I'd actually get to escape this place soon.

Chester was tutoring me and helping me finish my school work so I could get the credits for first semester. I guess he'd asked Edward if he wanted to join us but apparently he said he was "perfectly fucking capable on his own."

It wasn't until our hour and a half of free time that I found a way to reach out to him. I'd remembered in one of the visions I'd had of him, one where he was lying on his bed watching a movie with a drop-dead gorgeous honey-blonde girl, that he was smoking a cigarette. Yes! I crossed my fingers and hoped that he had an open mind and was good at keeping secrets.

I peeked out the door of my room and searched for any staff members in the hallway. I didn't know which room was his so I pulled my head back into my room and leaned against the wall, allowing my eyes to unfocus and letting my brain detach itself from my surroundings.

Suddenly, as if he were truly right in front of me, I could see him sitting cross-legged on his bed. He was chewing on the end of a pencil, had ear buds from an iPod stuck in his ears and was staring at a piece of paper with girly handwriting scrawled across the page. One side of the note had fringe on it that suggested that it'd been torn from a notebook. I backed up and ghosted through the closed door to see the number on it. 1320. Funny, his room was right next to mine. I looked to the right and saw my door slightly ajar, just as I had left it before entering my vision. I looked a little harder through my open door and saw a small person standing rigid against the wall. Though it was just a silhouette, I knew that I was seeing myself as I looked in that exact moment. Weird. I'd never seen myself having a vision in a vision before. It was kinda cool.

I snapped back to reality and peeked out my door again, looking at the place where I had just been standing in my vision. There were still no staff members within sight so I quickly flitted out of my room and tapped on the door next to my own. No answer. No sound of movement from within. I knocked again anxiously. Still, nothing. Screw it, I thought as I opened the door myself and scurried inside, closing it behind me. I heard a sigh of irritation and a smooth-sounding voice spoke to me.

"What do you want from me, Alice?"

I jumped at the sound of my name and turned to look at him. How the heck…? But I assumed he'd heard someone else say it. So I decided to play his game.

"I'm here to make peace, Edward." I replied. "You'd be surprised at how much I know about you and I'm hoping that in giving you a chance to feed your nicotine addiction, you'll let me know you more."

He studied my expression carefully. I got that weird, embarrassed feeling again as he looked at me silently for a moment. What was he doing? Had I scared him off by giving away too much information too soon? How would he react if I told him about my visions, that I could see into the future, past and present? Would he believe me?

Then he confused me a bit as his expression turned from one of distaste at my intrusion into one of amusement. "You're a clairvoyant?" he said as more of a statement than a question. A small smile tugged at the sides of his mouth. I was taken aback. How had he come to that conclusion so fast?

"And you're a mind-reader?" I asked jokingly. But much to my surprise, he nodded.

"Yeah, I am, actually."

We stared at each other from across the room for a second. The situation would've been pretty funny if it hadn't been so unbelievably odd. After what seemed like an hour (but was probably closer to twenty seconds), I had a small vision of Chester coming to my room to take me up to the roof. I usually had a cigarette at about this time everyday. I snapped back out of it and held up one finger to Edward to let him know to hang on a second. I could hear familiar footsteps getting closer to my room next door. I cracked open Edwards door and Chester's eyes widened for a second as he came to room 1320 instead.

"Chester," I whispered. "I think Edward should join us today."

"Really?"

"Yeah," I replied. "We've got a lot to discuss."

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I seriously can't wait to bring you guys Chapter 4! Things are gonna get heated fast. =]

And as a side not, the person thinking about the new girl at the beginning of Chapter 2 was no one important. Just a random Forks resident thinking about a new girl at work. And it's not Bella. I thought I'd throw you guys for a loop by someone mentioning a hot new girl. Tee hee

My supply is running low! I must satisfy this craving for reviews and you're the only one who can do it! And I love you when you feed my addiction. =]