January 28th

Dear Diary,

I know it's hard to be on the outside when you exist in the world of the Upper East Side, but I don't think I've ever truly appreciated how hard it is to be on the inside until today. Today was one of the hardest things I've ever had to watch.

An insider's return, when the rumor mill had been churning out vitriol for over a year.

Yep, that's right.

Rosalie Hale came back to Constance today.

I was in third period English when she came through the door. I didn't see her at first, because my nose was buried in A Tale of Two Cities, and I was busy annotating the part where Sidney – anyway, I digress. Point is, I felt this sort of ripple go through the class, like a collective intake of breath, and I glanced up, and there she was.

She looked exactly as I remembered. Effortlessly stunning, tall, blonde and statuesque. Her head was held high, and her curiously violet eyes were firmly fixed on the teacher's desk as she approached. She cleared her throat, and Professor Colchester turned to see the source of the interruption.

That's when the whispers started.

"Rosalie…"

"Rosalie Hale…"

"I heard she went to rehab."

"I heard she wigged out and got sent to the psych ward."

"I heard she was pregnant, and her mom sent her away until she had the kid."

"Do you think we should ask her?"

"Do you think…?"

I was watching Rosalie, to see how she would react to the explosion of stage whispers around her. To her credit, she acted like she couldn't even hear them. Instead, she murmured something to Professor C, and he nodded. She swiveled on one Louboutin-clad foot, and marched herself to the back of the class, one desk behind me. I resisted the urge to turn in my chair to study her.

The whispers were awful. They got more and more outlandish as the lesson progressed. I didn't know what to say, how to let her know that I was in her corner without coming across as pushy or interfering. Instead, I ducked my head, and allowed my curtain of black hair to fall in front of my face as I continued to read.

About halfway through the lesson, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned expectantly, to find Rosalie Hale studying my face like she was looking for something specific. Her eyes were curious, though, not disdainful. "Yeah?" I whispered.

"You're Alice Brandon, right?" Rosalie's voice was just as I remembered from the last time we'd spoken. Clear, commanding, but also somehow friendly.

"That's me," I responded, pleasantly surprised that she'd remembered my name. Not many Upper East Siders did. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," her response was measured. "I just… you're friends with J- uh – Edward, aren't you?"

Since as recently as a week ago, but I neglected to mention that. "Yep, I am."

She leaned forwards slightly, her long blonde curls spilling over her desk. "I remember you. You did that changeling painting that was in that gallery on 85th."

I blinked, taken aback. "Yeah, I did, how did you…?"

She smiled, and somehow reminded me of Jasper. "My friend Kate owns the place. She loves your stuff."

I felt myself flush with pleasure. "Well, thanks. That's kind of awesome."

"You live in Brooklyn, right?" she checked. I nodded, expecting a derogatory comment, but instead, her unusual eyes lit up. "Do you know the Ostroff Center?"

"Yeah, it's a couple of blocks away from me," I said slowly, wondering where she was going with her questions.

"Great," she enthused. "Then, can I ask you a favor?"

I nodded.

Edward summoned me at morning break. I found him lurking in a corner of the quad, seemingly bursting to talk to me. I set my bag down at his feet and dropped onto the wall beside him.

"You seem keyed up," I noted. "What's the deal? Too many espresso shots this morning?"

His smile was pained at best, and he kept nervously shifting his feet. "Ali," he muttered, tugging on a lock of his copper hair. "You have to help me."

I sobered up from my teasing mood, instantly alarmed. "What is it?"

"There's a new student here today. You have to help me show her around at lunch!" he all but begged. I raised my eyebrows at him, confused.

"Edward," I said slowly. "I don't think you can count Rosalie as a new student, technically, and she already knows her way around, so…"

I trailed off as he gaped at me. "What?"

"I said…"

"Rosalie's back? Here? Rosalie Hale?"

"You didn't know?" That information surprised me. I thought everyone knew. I'd especially have thought Edward knew, considering his best friend was Rosalie's cousin. "Jasper didn't tell you?"

It was embarrassing, but just saying Jasper's name made my pulse speed up. I really didn't know anything about the guy, so why did he have such an effect on me?

You know, Diary, my mom always used to say to me that I'd meet a boy who I instantly liked one day, for no rhyme or reason, and that would be that. 'When you know, you just know' she used to say. Of course, that was before she ran off to Hudson to find herself, and ended up finding a fitness instructor named Claude in the process. I guess she wasn't exactly the right person to make me believe in true love.

"Jasper's not at school today," Edward responded, and it took me a second to remember what question I'd even asked. "And I haven't spoken to him since Saturday."

That didn't sit well with me. What was wrong with Jasper? Was he sick? There had been something in the mournful look in his eyes the last time I'd seen him that had made me worry.

"Okay," I shook off the feeling, once again reminding myself that Jasper wasn't mine to worry about. "So who's this new girl, then?"

"She's…" Edward's eyes suddenly went alarmingly wide and he turned a worrying shade of green. "Crap! She's headed this way!"

While I stifled a laugh at Edward attempting to blend in with a tree, I turned to appraise whatever blonde Barbie sexual predator had made him so utterly terrified. I frowned. There was no showy rich bitch there. Not anyone that would make Edward run for the hills.

The only person I saw was a girl about my own age, with a pale, heart-shaped face and a cascade of thick, shiny mahogany hair that was a few shades darker than her wide, chocolatey eyes. She could be painted, I thought, in a palate of entirely browns and creams, with a soft smudge of pink on each side for her cheeks. She looked very pretty, but very unthreatening.

I turned back to Edward, incredulous. "Do you mean her?"

"Yes!" he hissed, now attempting to hide himself, unsuccessfully, I might add, behind me. I shook my head at him, bewildered.

"What's her name?"

"Isabella," he answered immediately. He clearly had no idea why I'd asked.

"Isabella!" I hollered, and the girl turned, catching sight of me as I waved at her like a moron. Edward groaned audibly.

She shuffled nervously over to my side, and seemed to notice Edward. She frowned in concern when she saw how stressed out he looked. "Are you okay?"

He mumbled something unintelligible, and began shredding leaves with his fingers. I realized that I would have to take the reins on this meeting. I stood and held out my hand.

"I'm Alice," I offered. "It's nice to meet you, Isabella."

"Just Bella. Bella Swan," she replied quickly, pushing her hair back in a nervous gesture I recognized from the mirror. "I hate Isabella."

I grimaced in sympathy. "I know how you feel. Mary Alice Brandon. But please, never call me Mary." We shook. I noticed that Bella was about an inch taller than I was, except she was in flats and I was in four inch heels.

"Your dress…" she said softly. "Did you do that yourself?"

I glanced down at my Constance uniform. "Yeah, I made some alterations."

"It looks great," she said, and she sounded as though she meant it. "I wish I was stylish enough to do stuff like that."

Bella wasn't speaking with self-pity, merely humble fact. I liked her already. There wasn't an air or grace about her.

Edward was still trying to become a chameleon behind me. I noticed Bella shooting him a couple of nervous looks out of the corner of her eye. I frowned at him reproachfully. The poor girl was shy enough! What was his damage?

In hindsight, I should have spotted the signs, but I was too busy trying to make the poor girl feel at ease to notice the bright crimson blush on Edward's cheekbones, or the way he kept nervously running his hands through his already messy hair. I did what he asked, though. I offered to show the girl around. She accepted gratefully, mumbling something about hating being the new girl.

"It's even worse," she confided. "When people find out I'm the Headmistress's daughter."

Ah. I remembered Headmistress Dwyer talking about her daughter, suddenly, and I grinned. "Your mom said we'd get along, once."

"She did?" Bella seemed astonished that she was talked about. I got the distinct impression that she was a bit of a wallflower.

It was only then that I clocked Edward's self-conscious shifting, the way he kept clearing his throat nervously, and the way he seemed to be simultaneously trying to make himself look nonchalant whilst blushing like a berry. My mouth dropped open into a stunned 'o' of surprise.

Edward liked Bella. Oh. Oh. Oh!

Being the interfering busybody that I am – if you don't believe me, ask Seth – I immediately began to formulate a plan. And I was talking about the mother of all plans. There would be stages. Maybe even diagrams. I could rope other people in. Jasper, maybe, or Rosalie. After tonight, Rosalie would owe me a favor…

Bella, I discovered throughout the day, was into a lot of the same things as I was. The same music. The same books. She even liked surrealist art. She was quiet, but spoke with a certain honest gravity to everything she said. In fact, I found that I liked her so much, I even invited her back to Brooklyn with me. We'd been talking about Java Jones, and I'd mentioned the poetry reading going on at six. She'd asked, tentatively, if she could come along sometime. I instantly invited her.

We were sitting side-by-side on one of the low leather sofas in the back of the coffee shop, still in our Constance uniforms, and both hugging mochas to our chests, when I decided to test the waters.

"So, I'm sorry about Edward, earlier," I said casually, keeping my eyes trained on her. "He's not usually such a blithering idiot."

Bella gave me a wan smile, and blushed bright pink. Of course, I'd observed Bella blushing about fifty times already in the one day I'd known her, so that didn't really tell me much. Still, it couldn't have been a bad sign…

"No," she mumbled. "He was perfectly nice."

"When he could form a sentence," I replied, smirking wickedly. I needed to stop relishing in other people's discomfort. I was beginning to turn into Seth.

Speaking of… he vaulted over the back of the sofa as soon as I thought this, springing from nowhere and nearly making me slosh my coffee all over my lap. I squeaked in indignation.

"Damn it, Seth!"

"Sorry," he apologized with a shrug, and then noticed Bella. "Hey, there."

"Hi," she replied quietly. She didn't blush, though. Interesting…

"And who might this be?" Seth turned to me, all expectant looking.

"This is Bella Swan. Bella, this is my best friend, Seth Clearwater."

Seth took her hand with a flourish. "Charmed, my dear." He planted a kiss on her knuckles. This time, Bella blushed, but I think it was more down to embarrassment than anything else.

"Leave her alone, you!" I admonished, smacking him upside the head. Seth shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry, babe, you know me."

"And ain't that the truth," I muttered darkly. Bella laughed.

The poetry reading wasn't terrible, but it wasn't the best I've heard. The lead singer of Seth's band, Jared, had written some truly terrible haikus that had the three of us rolling around in our seats. Jacob, the bassist, joined us after about half an hour, and really hit it off with Bella. He left with Seth around eight, demanding that they go and practice for their upcoming gig. Seth left, somewhat begrudgingly, muttering something about Jake being like a dog with a goddamn bone.

"Jake's nice," Bella said, now on her fifth cup of coffee.

"Yeah, he's a good guy. A little immature sometimes, but good fun."

"I like Seth, too. You've got some good friends, here."

"What about Edward?" I asked slyly. Yes! There it was again! That blush.

"Edward is…" Bella grinned at me sheepishly. "Well, he's… very… nice-looking."

I snickered. "Yeah, he's easy on the eyes. He's a hell of a catch, too."

Bella seemed to toy with the handle of her mug for a long time before speaking. "So, you and him, you aren't…?"

"God, no!" I laughed. "Not that there's anything wrong with Edward," I added hastily, seeing the alarm in her eyes. "Like I said, he's amazing. It's just…"

"You like someone else," she surmised, with surprising accuracy.

"How'd you guess?"

"I can see it on your face. Who is it, if you don't mind my asking? Is it Seth?"

The look I gave her was incredulous. "Seriously?"

"Okay," she laughed. "I guess not. Have I met him?"

"No," I sighed, and then decided, on the spur of the moment, to tell her. It couldn't do any harm, and besides, she seemed extremely trustworthy. I was good at sizing people up, and I'd gotten the measure of Bella within a few short exchanges. "But you probably will. He goes to St. Jude's, so you'll see him around at school. Particularly if you hang out with Edward. He's his best friend."

"Oh, right," Bella said softly. "Um, Jasper, right? Jasper Whitlock?"

Good memory, that girl had. Well, either that, or she knew who Jasper Whitlock was. I wouldn't be surprised. Everyone did.

"Right," I agreed.

"Doesn't he have a girlfriend?" Bella pointed out, not unkindly. "I swear Edward mentioned…"

"Yes," I told her, the reminder of Maria making me feel like I had swallowed a lead balloon. "And she's a total heinous bitch."

"Aren't they always," Bella muttered dryly, and I found myself smiling.

"He's not interested in me," I told her.

"I find that hard to believe."

"You don't have to be nice. The problem is, he doesn't want to be with his girlfriend. I overheard him telling Edward. I think his parents are pressuring him into it."

"That's horrible," Bella shuddered. "I can't imagine the kind of people who would do something like that."

"I can," I murmured. It was sad but true. "If you go to Constance for long enough, you'll meet plenty of them."

Bella digested this news in silence. I glanced over at her to see what she was making of the crazy train that was life on the Upper East Side, even on the periphery. Fucked-up doesn't even begin to describe it. I wondered if she would take it all in stride, like Edward did. She was quiet, sure, and timid, but there seemed to be an innate strength about her that emanated from her very core. Maybe, just maybe, she was tough enough to take it. Maybe with her as a friend, I would be, too.

I said goodbye to Bella and put her in a cab around nine thirty. I hadn't realized how late it was. I was meant to be meeting Rosalie at the subway in five minutes. I hot-footed it to the stop just as she was emerging from the steps. She caught sight of me as soon as her blonde head poked out into the cold January air, and she waved. It was an enthusiastic wave. How weird. A week ago, I'd had no friends at Constance. Now, I might even have three. And Jasper Whitlock knows that I exist. It's a funny old world.

Rosalie looked effortlessly stylish – and tall – as she made her way over to me. She was still wearing her Louboutin boots, but had traded her uniform for a fitted Chanel jacket and a short burgundy dress I'd seen in the Kurt Geiger winter catalogue. She was so pretty that it hurt my ego to stand too close to her.

"Hi," I said lamely when she reached my side. She beamed at me.

"Hey, hun. You haven't been waiting long, have you?"

"Not at all," I shook my head. "So, you want to go to the Ostroff center?"

Rosalie nodded, a sharp jerk of her head. "Yep. We need to sneak in, though. My mom would blow a fuse if she knew I was coming here. The very idea of me in a rehab facility makes her want to faint."

Again, I noticed that twisted bitterness in her tone. It was the same one that had belonged to Jasper, and, to a lesser extent, Edward. Like there was something seething beneath the surface, just waiting to explode out of her in a torrent of rage and resentment.

Maybe rich kids did have problems, and I was just too close-minded to notice before.

Rosalie talked as we made our way through the relatively empty Brooklyn streets. She was amicable and bubbly, but I noticed that every so often, her gaze would harden, and whatever she had been about to say would die on her lips. I didn't take her reluctance to share as a personal slight, though. Not anymore. Secrets and lies and pretense. That was how the other half lived.

"Who is it?" I asked eventually, when it occurred to me that she still hadn't told me. "Who are you visiting?"

"Just a friend," she said evasively, tucking one blonde curl behind her ear. "He's had a rough time of it, lately, and I haven't really been there for him like I should've."

"I'm sure he understands," I placated her. "You've been living in a different state."

"I shouldn't have been," she muttered darkly. "I should never have left. I wouldn't have, had I known…" But again, she broke off, before I could find out what exactly it was that she should have known but didn't. Again, I didn't hold it against her. None of my business, anyway.

"Do you know why Jasper wasn't at school today?" I asked conversationally, in an attempt to change the subject. It was the wrong thing to say, apparently, because I almost heard the crash as the barriers descended behind her eyes. Her jaw clenched.

"Yeah, I do." She didn't elaborate, but her eyes blazed with controlled fury. I wondered who it was directed at – Jasper, or someone else.

"You guys are cousins, right?" I checked. I found myself suddenly desperate to glean some sort of information out of her, anything that would help me get to know Jasper better. Lord, but I was pathetic.

"Yeah, we are. Closer than that, though, really. More like siblings. He's pretty much the only member of my family I actually like." A fond smile lit her features, transforming her from merely beautiful to almost inhumanly stunning.

"Is he… I mean, what's he like? Outside of school?"

Even though I tried to sound casual, I could tell that Rosalie wasn't buying it. She turned on me with keen violet eyes.

"Why so interested?"

I shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "Just curious, I guess."

She seemed to accept this explanation, at face-value, anyway. Still, there was a knowing look in her eyes as she responded.

"He's… honestly, Alice, he's the best guy in the world. I always used to call him a bleeding heart. He's more than that, though. He carries the weight of the whole damn world on his shoulders, all the time. And he doesn't once complain about the burden. He just bears it."

"How can someone do that?"

Rosalie smirked. "With an incontrovertible sense of humor. At least, that's what Jazz says."

I smiled at that. It sounded like something that Edward might say. I wondered if, when Jasper loosened up, he was witty in the same way. The idea made my heart stutter.

We'd reached the front door of the Ostroff center by then, and I was getting ready to bid Rosalie farewell as she sized up the building. Her brow was furrowed, clearly thinking hard.

"How do you suppose I'll sneak in?" she mused, tapping her chin with one manicured nail.

"I have a suggestion. Walk through the front door, and you can just use my name on the sign in sheet. I don't mind."

She looked at me in shock, gratitude swelling in her eyes. "You'd let me do that?"

"Of course. It doesn't bother me if anyone thinks I was there. Nobody knows me, anyhow."

I was totally taken aback when she bent down and hugged me tightly. "Thanks, Alice. You really are the best!"

After that, she hurried off inside with a wave. I stood on the sidewalk outside for a few minutes, just trying to collect my thoughts. I'd spent the last three years watching the soap opera that was the Upper East Side, and now, finally being a part of it, it was even more confusing as a bit player than an observer.

It's too late to back out now, though. My natural born curiosity is piqued.

I just hope that curiosity, in this instance, doesn't kill the cat.

Love,

Alice.

A/N: Three guesses as to who Rose is visiting? Tee hee. And next chapter will be very heavy on the Jalice interaction, because there was absolutely none in this one. Plus, a little bit of what Jasper was doing on the weekend will be revealed.

Thanks for reading,

PJ

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