I know that there's something otherworldly about Alice Cullen from the moment she steps out of her shiny yellow automobile and onto the sidewalk. Her features are dainty, elfin even, in that she has large eyes and a pointy nose and chin. All about her is a sort of glow, certainly something that would only be visible to someone magical or someone with an extreme eye for detail and a weak grasp on muggle perceived reality. When she notices me in the window she smiles a sweet, sharp-toothed looking smile and waves at me.

I can tell she's not human but my grandmother taught me to never be so rude as to ask another being what exactly they were if I couldn't figure it out myself, and so I merely invite her inside with a polite, much less pointy smile of my own.

Before I even saw her I'd been prepared for us to feel hideously awkward around each other, after all we're two teenagers basically attending a play-date set up by our fathers. Alice dispels that notion almost immediately. "Isabella, hello!" the short, dark haired sprite dances her way through the front door, removing her raincoat as she does. Her smile is so wide and her odd, golden eyes so bright that it's infectious. I feel like her happiness is warming me up from the outside in. "It's so good to meet you!"

"And you as well," I stutter, suddenly feeling ridiculously underdressed next to Alice's polished denims and flowing chiffon top.

I feel her eyes rake over me, from my messily thrown up hair to my Montrose Magpies jersey that's tucked into a long black tea skirt, and I prepare myself to be judged. Alice merely smiles wider, which I didn't think was possible, and reaches for my hand, clasping it between her two icy ones. "You and I are going to be very good friends," she says. "I can just tell."

Part of me wants to shake her off, tell her that I've made a mistake, that she needs to go home. I don't need new friends, just the ones I had before the war, thanks. But I don't. I hold firm, nod to let her know that I think the same, and smile. Sure, we'll be friends. I will give her a chance, just like I told my dad I would.

"I hope this isn't too forward," She says, and I tense, because that's something that someone says just before they say something horrifyingly forward, "But I was told that you're going through a tough time right now. I just wanted to say that I'm so sorry. Of course I don't know what happened but…" She shakes her head as though clearing her thoughts, "Well if I say anything, or overstep you'll tell me, wont' you? My siblings tell me that I can get a bit carried away sometimes." She looks up at me with wide, beseeching golden eyes.

I swallow. "Of course," I say, and then I search for something else. Something to take the tension away. "Don't feel the need to tiptoe around me though. I'm a big girl," I smile.

Alice gives a tinkling laugh. "You, Isabella Swan, are a vision. Exactly what I need in my life." She pulls away from me and begins walking toward the stairs. "Shall we get started?" She barely turns her head to look at me before continuing up; apparently she doesn't need my help to find my room.

I follow her up the stairs and down the hall to my room, where I've already laid out all of the muggle clothing I own. It forms a pathetically small pile on my bed and I almost start to feel embarrassed until I catch Alice's smile, which is not at all vicious but instead rather anticipatory.

"Show me what you have!"

I take her through the piles. Underwear first, and hurriedly so that hopefully she wont see how sad and worn out it is. Then my tee shirts, which thankfully span a nice spectrum of colors but do not do anything to dispel the idea that I'm hopelessly unfashionable. Next come jerseys and flannels, then the other skirt, sleep pants, and socks.

"Hmm," Alice hums, tilting her head to the side as she studies me and my meager supply. "Describe to me your personal style."

"Comfortable," I say automatically, because that's what I'd always seen myself as. Nothing to fancy, and nothing overly restricting, but I didn't mind if comfort intersected with what was stylish or trendy.

For a minute Alice is silent, contemplative. "No," she says. "I don't think so." Once again she glances over what I'm wearing now. "I mean I'm sure that you value comfort in your clothing. But if you really were a comfy dresser I think you'd own more pairs of jeans and really baggy shirts. No," she looks thoughtful, "I think you're classic. Flowing skirts and tucked in blouses."

I don't know how to tell her that I've never found trousers completely comfortable, as most of them tend to be tailored to fit tightly. Other than that though, she's not wrong and so I don't dispute the declaration.

"Anyway, I brought something that might help us," Alice says, and she pulls a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket. "It's a list of everything you'll need. Do you have a pen?"

Out of the corner of my eye, as I search for a pen, I see that the piece of paper has lots of writing on it, organized by categories. It looks very, almost intimidatingly, long.

"Now you already have some of this," Alice says as she goes through the list, checking some items off and crossing others out. "And some of it, like the blazers and the evening gown, I assume you wont actually need. But it's a good place to start. Will you be here for the winter?"

"Um, no, I'll be going back to school the last week of August," I say dumbly, watching Alice cross yet more items off of her list.

"That's to bad," she says absentmindedly, "It would be so nice to have a friend at school. Oh well," she smiles at me, "that just means we'll have to make the most out of our summer, won't we? Take a look at this list Isabella, and tell me what you think."

I think, as I peruse the paper, that it's more muggle clothing than I've ever owned in my life combined. I'm not sure what constitutes a day dress, or what activewear even is, but Alice has that and more written down in tiny, looping cursive.

"This is… quite a lot." I feel a bit overwhelmed.

"I know it seems that way, but really it's the essentials. And we can eliminate even more, based on your personal style. The point is just to have a variety of working, stylish outfits that you'll actually wear." It seems like Alice knows what she's doing, and so I let the topic drop for now. "I actually really love the shirts you have," She comments as she steps toward the bed and brushes one hand along them.

"I'm rather fond of them," I smile, "They're all from things I went to with my schoolmates. Concerts and qu-Football games."

"Normally I abhor tee shirts," Alice wrinkles her nose, in a way that is highly reminiscent of Winifred, "But the way that you're pairing yours today with that skirt just looks so… classy."

I blush, as I always do when someone gives me a complement. "So what now? You've seen how pathetically little I own."

Alice's brow wrinkles at that complement, but she manages to school her expression quickly. "Now we go to my house, and my closet. You and I look to be about the same size, aside from height and bust, so perhaps you can try on some of the things in my closet, just to see if you like any of the styles."

This seems to be as good a plan as any, so we adjourn downstairs and I slip on my oxfords while Alice dons her jacket. Seeing me without one, she asks "Do you have a rain coat?"

I shake my head with a rueful smile, "Add it to the list of things I haven't got."

"You might want to borrow one of your dad's," She says, glancing out the window. "It's going to rain later."

"D'you have a bit of the sight Madam Alice?" I tease as I do as she says and fish one out of the hall closet.

Her pealing laughter startles me. "Goodness no," She giggles, "But when you live in Forks long enough you just get a feel for these things."

Tell me what you think!