A/N;; I am loving all the positive responses this story is getting. Thanks so much, guys.

This might be the last update I give you guys for a while. I'm going on vacation till the twelfth, and when I get back I'm gonna be busier than I was before. Things will settle again by the end of the month, and you can for sure expect an update then.

Also, for anyone who's a fan of The Jazz Singer, it is in danger of being taken off the site for lack of reviews. If there's anyone who wants to help out with that, be my guest :D Now, onward!

I was one of the first to arrive at the campus that morning. It was still pretty dark outside when I hauled my luggage out of the cab. I'd seriously considered dropping out before I was even in; that and suicide. Both, after a while, ended up looking like pretty bad ideas. So, in the end, I'd put on a long sleeved shirt and dragged myself down to NYIP. I was regretting it already.

My heart ached more than my legs did from climbing all the stairs to my assigned dorm with my bags hauling me down—and that was saying something. I wasn't sure how I could still feel anything. I'd expected the numbness to wash over me by then, and engulf me in non-existence. My hopes were too high. It wasn't like it mattered; I'd dealt with being let down too many times before.

I reached my designated room and fumbled in my jeans for the key. When I was able to open the door, I saw that my new roommate had beaten me there and was already wrestling to get a mattress onto one of the two beds in the room.

"Why the hell do they put these things under the beds?" an overly familiar voice grunted. "Why don't they just freaking leave them where they belong?"

She hoisted the mattress up and it plopped down onto the bed, dust flying everywhere. She coughed and waved at the air around her.

"Hey, roomy," I said, feigning happiness. Rosalie looked up and saw me.

"I know you from somewhere!" she said, rushing forward and enveloping me in a tight hug. "Hey there, Alice."

She was squeezing my arms tightly, but the numbness was finally activating itself. Without thinking about it, I went limp in her arms. Rosalie held me up.

"Alice, what's wrong?" she asked. "Are you feeling okay?" She sat me on the bed and I shook my head and plastered a painfully fake smile on my face.

"Wrong?" I asked, my voice slightly hysterical. "Wrong? Of course nothing's wrong. I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine." I laughed a frenzied laugh and stood up, wobbling over to the window to hide my red face. Tears I couldn't control were streaming down my cheeks.

"Alice, I haven't known you for a day and I know something's wrong," she said. I felt her hand on my shoulder. The simple gesture made me break. I covered my face with my hands and sobbed. Rose held me without a word, murmuring meaningless things like "It's okay" and "There's no need for tears."

"Will you tell me what's wrong?" she asked, holding me by my shoulders as if waiting for me to collapse.

"I can't, Rose, I just can't," I said.

And she didn't press the matter any further.

Rose and I became much closer after that. She didn't press for the information I wouldn't give her. She didn't question why I wore sweaters or long sleeved shirts, even when the heat became near unbearable.

She didn't ask why I'd lay awake at night for hours staring at a picture I wouldn't let her see for the life of me.

Rose was used to my mental breakdowns after a week. She was never surprised if she woke up to me crying at night, or came back from Starbucks with two lattes only to find me curled up on my bed not moving and barely breathing. She never asked questions. She just sat down next to me, allowing me to let it out. She helped me be happier. I rarely thought about my horrid past when I was with her. She kept me smiling.

Rosalie became my best friend within a month. I loved her like the sister she was to me. She stood up for me when bitchy girls would say, and I quote, "I think you took a wrong turn. The elementary school is that way."

I felt truly guilty about not telling her anything about my life, especially when, in one night, she told me everything about her twin brother—the last living person in her family. He cut off contact with her when she forced him into rehab. She said it hadn't been long ago.

I couldn't help but connect her story with… with Jasper. God, it hurt just to think his name.

I'd spent that one month at the Institute of Photography, rooming with Rose, and looking at her everyday.

But all those days I was looking, but I wasn't really seeing.

The day I noticed that was the day I noticed her eyes. They were a brilliant, familiar blue. The same color as Jasper's eyes. Hers were softer, but they were, overall, exactly alike.

That was when I had to ask.

"Rose?" I asked her one night when we were sprawled on the floor of the dorm, looking at pictures we'd taken for one of our classes. "What's your last name?"

She looked at me strangely. "Why do you ask?"

"I've known you a month now and I don't even know your full name," I said, giggling. "You have to admit that's a little weird."

She laughed. "Hale," she answered. "Rosalie Lillian Hale."

"Hale," I croaked. "Hale… Rose, let me ask you… Your brother, the one you sent to rehab… was his name, by any chance, Jasper?"
She stared at me with wide eyes that were turning pink as they prepared to leak tears. I knew she wouldn't be the only one to cry that night.

"How do you know his name?" she asked.

"I met him," I said. "I met him the day before I met you. He was coming out of rehab. I was sitting outside waiting for the bus. We—we talked."

A tear ran down her cheek. I envied her for a moment. Even with her hair tied up in a messy bun, not a hint of makeup on her face, and her eyes puffy with the tears she hadn't yet shed, she was still perfect.

"How is she?" she asked, a begging edge to her voice. "Is he okay? Did he mention me?"

I shook my head, trying to blink back tears. "He—he said his family was dead. You two had another brother?"

Rose nodded. "He—"

"Killed himself," I finished for her. "I heard."

She nodded again, and a weak sob escaped her throat.

I felt sick, but it wasn't because of our conversation. It was five in the morning (yes, we're nerds that stay up all night checking over our homework) and so not a good time to be sick to my stomach.

"Rose, pass me the trashcan," I muttered. She obliged, seeing my green face, and the second it was in my hands I threw up everything I'd eaten within the past week.

"Are you okay?" she asked, rubbing my back. "You want me to call the hospital wing?"

"No, I'm fine," I assured her, standing. I hoped I could make it to at least the door of our bathroom before I threw up again, which I was bound to do.

When I came out of the bathroom again, after having heaved up so much crap it wasn't even funny, I felt horrible. Thankfully, it was Saturday, so I wouldn't have to skip a day of classes. I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes.

"Alice, this can't be healthy," Rose said, on her knees next to my bed. "You've been feeling sick the past few mornings, and today you throw up more than should be able to fit in you."

I looked up at her and saw her face go paler than was normal. She ran one finger through her hair, muttering.

"Oh my God," she said. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"

"What, Rose?" I snapped. "What?"

"Alice," she said slowly. "Is there a chance that you might be… I dunno… um…"

I sat up, thinking I knew where her mind was going. "I could be what, Rosalie?"

"Alice, could you be…" She looked around, as if expecting someone to be eavesdropping. Her voice was just above a whisper when she spoke again. "Pregnant?"

My head snapped up so quickly, it rebounded against the wall behind me.

"Ouch," I muttered, rubbing the back of my head. "And that's crazy, Rose. I can't be—I can't be pregnant. That's—that's insane." Only what if I was? What if I was pregnant? There was only one person it could belong to, and would I ever be able to look at my future child if they were to look anything like him?

"Think, Alice," Rosalie said. "Have you had sex at all within the past month… or so?"

I nodded, smashing my head against the wall purposely. There was no way in hell I was pregnant. It was probably just food poisoning or something of the sort. I gulped.

"Will you come with me?" I asked her. "You know—to get the pregnancy tests?"

Rose nodded somberly and threw her arms around me. "It'll be okay," she said. "Just watch."

I did watch. I watched as Rose and I drove off in her car to the pharmacy I'd gone to before school had started. I watched as she picked out three different tests for me to try. I watched as the cashier gave me an odd look as he handed me the bag.

I watched the road intently on our way back to NYIP. I watched as Rose gave my hand a comforting squeeze before I went into the bathroom back at our dorm.

I watched as three little pink plus signs appeared in front of me.

"Oh—God!" I croaked, wrapping my arms around myself. "Oh God, oh God!" I felt Rose's arm around my shoulder, trying to comfort me as I wept.

"Rose, I'm nineteen years old, and I'm going to have a fucking child in nine months!" I sobbed. I wasn't always a big fan of profanity, but there were quite a few words I wanted to scream in Mr. Hale's face that would not belong in a G-rated movie.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," Rose whispered, stroking my hair. "It's all gonna be alright, you'll see.

"Will you tell me who the dad is?"

I looked up at her and shook my head. "No, Rose, I'm sorry, I can't."

She nodded understandingly, and somehow I knew she didn't suspect it was her brother. She stared at me with sympathy in her eyes.

"Are you going to, you know, keep it?" she asked me.

"Of course I am," I said. "What else would I do?"

"Well, Alice, I mean… you're still in school," she said.

"I'll drop out," I said.

"You have your whole life ahead of you."

"I can face life with my child by my side."

"You're so young."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Where will you live?"

"I'll find someplace."

"And you're going to raise her alone?"

"That's what it looks like I'm gonna do."

"How will you hold up?"

"It's called a bra; you wouldn't know about it."

She grimaced at me. "This isn't a time for jokes, Alice."

"I'm sorry, but you seem so sure I won't be able to do this," I said. "I mean, I'm not gonna get an abortion—no!" I pressed my hands to my stomach, as if willing the baby inside me to feel that I'd love it and take care of it for as long as I'd live.

"I'll be there for you, Alice," Rose said. "Every step of the way. But… will I be enough? Don't you have parents you need to call?"

"They're dead," I said. "Dead to me, anyway."

Rose looked at me strangely, but didn't press the matter. "Any other family members?"

"No, I—" My thoughts flickered to Edward. "Wait. Yeah, I do, actually."

I leapt for my bag and dug around for the phone Rose had bought me (apparently, she and Jasper had inherited everything, but since Jasper had walked off, she was left with the thousands of dollars her parents had left behind). I dialed Edward's number, hoping silently that he'd answer. He did, to my utter relief.

"Hello?" he said groggily. I only then noticed it was pretty late.

"Hey, Edward," I said.

"Alice?" he asked.

"The very one."

"Oh, hey. I haven't talked to you since we started school. How are things?"

"Things are… stressful."

"Well, that's college for you."

"I wasn't talking about that."

"Then what did you mean?"

I took a deep breath. "Edward, I was feeling sick this morning, and my friend, Rose, thought I could be… and so we went to the pharmacy today and got some tests and, and… Dear God… I'm pregnant, and—and I'm going to keep it, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do. How will I take care of myself; of my baby?" I was in tears by then, sobbing into the phone.

"Alice, Alice," he said. "Breathe, okay? Listen, you get Thanksgiving week off, don't you? Well, that isn't that far off. I'm going back to visit Carlisle and Esme; why don't you come? Carlisle's a doctor. You probably won't need an ultrasound till then, anyway. And just—just be careful, okay? I don't want anything to happen to you, or the baby."

I nodded, taking it all in and biting down on my lip to keep from crying.

"O…kay," I said, then I looked over at Rose. She was sitting on her own bed, legs crossed, looking at a picture. From the way she was crying, I knew it had to be a picture of her family, or her parents, at least. I turned my attention back to the phone.

"Listen, Edward?" I said. "Um… I hate to impose on Carlisle and Esme, but would it be alright if, you know, if Rose came with me?"
Rosalie looked at me, but I wasn't sure if she was getting ready to protest or not.

"I'm sure that's fine," Edward said. "We're gonna pretty much have a full house anyway. Emmett's coming home, too, and I'm bringing my—my girlfriend back home." I could almost see the blush on his cheeks. "So, yeah, I'm sure they'll love to have you both."

I smiled through my tears. "Thanks, Edward."

"Alright, I'll talk to you soon," he said. "I'm sure you'll love Bella. The two of you will get along great."

"I'm sure we will," I said. "Night, Edward."

"G'night, Alice."

I snapped the phone closed and turned to Rose.

"You okay?" I asked her.

She looked up, and I saw her eyes fill with tears. "You're pregnant with the baby of a guy who you mightn't see again and you don't know what you're gonna do, and you're worrying about me!" she said, her voice hollow. "But, if you must know, I've… I haven't spent Thanksgiving—or any holiday, for that matter—with someone since I was fifteen. Jasper was always busy, and I didn't have anyone else."

"No boyfriends who invited you home?"

"I haven't had a boyfriend," Rose said, blushing slightly.

"You what-what-what?" I asked, confused. Rosalie Hale; vision of perfection has never had a boyfriend? It's the end of the world.

"I haven't had a boyfriend," she said with more confidence. "I haven't found anyone I want to spend my life with."

"Rose, that's a husband," I said. "A boyfriend is just someone you try on for size, to see if one day you can spend your life with them."

"Well, I don't see you having ever had a boyfriend," she retorted.

I hadn't told her about James. Jasper—and my parents and sister, I guess—were the only ones that knew I'd ever gone out with him. But Jasper was the one who knew what James had done to me. I wasn't ready to tell Rose that story.

The full force of what I was doing didn't hit me until midnight. The lights were off and Rose was snoring softly in the bed next to mine.

But I lay awake, thinking, and crying.

What I wouldn't give to be able to see Jasper, hit every inch of his body, and call him a stupid, unreliable bastard. I might never be able to see him again, and I wasn't sure if that made me happy or not. I'd never forget him; that was for sure. He was the first man I'd ever truly loved, even if he hadn't loved me.

I didn't think about what I was doing. I went to our bathroom and locked the door. I opened the medicine cabinet slowly and pulled out a bottle of cough syrup—the kind that people are always saying to keep out of reach of children because it'll get them high—and a razor blade.

I sat myself in the tub, and pulled up my sleeve, readying myself for relief.