Author's note:

Questions have come up about Bella and Edward's age, and as to this story is about their first year in College or in Med School.

I'll admit, being from all the way on the other side of the pond, I didn't really plan the story taking into account the complexity of the American education system. And I apologize for it. However, I think – or rather hope - it doesn't detract from your experience to assume that they are, indeed, in their first year of med-school. Being, accordingly, both 22 years old.

A special thanks to darcy13 for making me realize my mistake was a source of confusion.

On a different side note, this chapter has a very different feel than the others, or at least that's what I tried to convey. I hope you enjoy.

The road was poorly lit ahead of us, which made the scenery unpleasant and eerie. I wasn't feeling quite like myself; the situation was strange, unexpected, and it was so ridiculously late, you could call it early.

I tried to snap out of my near-vegetative state; I would need to be as alert as possible.

Because the moment I'd been both hoping for and dreading had come; of all days, that Saturday night.

By my side, Jasper sensed I wasn't, at all, ok.

"We'll be there in ten minutes. You don't look so good; are you alright?"

I mused for a few seconds. What should I tell him? How much should I tell him? It seemed extremely inappropriate and selfish to go on talking about my problems in the situation at hand, so I kept my response to a satisfying minimum:

"I didn't get the job"

And there was so much more to say. But, as always the sensitive kind-hearted man, Jasper merely nodded in acknowledgment.

"If you want me too, I could take care of this and then drive back"

"That's sweet of you Jasper, but I have to deal with it. It wouldn't be fair, and, besides, you don't even know her. You're already doing too much as it is, driving me all the way up here"

Alice had called me, in the middle of the night, asking for help with the predicament she'd gotten herself into.

I wanted to be strong. I'd been taking care of myself for years, and I was an independent woman, capable of dealing with this and whatever came my way. Or, at least, that's what I chanted to myself in the dark car while flexing my fingers so they wouldn't freeze off.

Breathing deeply, I was able to hype myself just enough that what I encountered, when we arrived, was bearable.

The club's parking lot was full – which wasn't surprising on a Saturday night – but I was able to spot three people near the car crash quickly enough, under the bright neon light of the huge sign.

The side of my blue Camry was scratched and deformed; I did like my car, but in that moment I wished I'd just kept my old red truck after high school. At least, it would have had a better chance of surviving unscathed.

The other car – I believed it was an M3 - faired even worst. The back of it was extremely damaged, and the bumper had fallen off completely. I cringed, thinking about how much it would cost to fix.

Rubbing my face, I stepped closer to Alice and the couple, noticing several things immediately.

The gorgeous blonde woman was beyond aggravated and wouldn't stop talking about the repair time and cost, while the big burly man, which I assumed to be her boyfriend, was trying to calm her down and talk her into not calling the police.

I breathed a silent sigh of relief that they hadn't; because I could also see Alice wasn't sober, and her spending the night in jail wouldn't help.

The huge man was extremely intimidating, but seemed to be the most collected of the two. And having Jasper by my side was very comforting; he might not be as muscular, but was still tall and I believed he'd be able to hold his own in a fight.

I'd never been in one, but tonight, I wouldn't put past anything.

Approaching the tall man, I identified myself. "My name is Bella Swan; I'm the Camry's owner"

I'd studied my phrasing so they wouldn't think I'd come just to bail my friend out; this way, they could see I had a legitimate concern.

"Good morning", the man replied, in a deep voice. He seemed uncomfortable and upset. "I'm Emmett McCarthy and this is Rosalie Hale, the M3's owner." By now, the blonde woman was obviously fuming about the way he'd taken control of the situation, and all I could think was about how much I didn't want to be in his shoes. "Well, your friend was backing the car up, but probably didn't size up very well and ended up backing into our car. If you want to talk to her for a second… but I'm pretty sure she'll tell you the same thing"

I turned to see Alice sitting on the sidewalk with Jasper's help.

"I'm sure it was", I agreed, looking at the damage and position of the cars. Something in Emmett's tone let me know he, too, noticed Alice wasn't sober, and that made me see the whole thing a bit more clearly. This couple had just come out on a Saturday night to have some fun, and end up getting their great expensive car destroyed. He had been the one to not call the police; I didn't know if I'd been that cool with it myself. "I'm really sorry about this; Alice is usually a very responsible driver", «and a responsible person, but both seem to fail her now», I added internally. "I'll personally take on all the expenses that come with getting the car fixed, as well as any damage you might have from bringing it to the shop. Once again, I am deeply sorry about this"

The blonde woman – Rosalie - relaxed visibly, but kept her arms crossed over her designer dress. Emmett, however, lightened up as soon as the words left my mouth.

"Nah, it's fine. We can drive it to the shop ourselves; just let me have your information so we can get this mess sorted out"

I nodded, relieved. Thankfully, Alice had crashed into a nice person's car. Or, more precisely, someone with a nice boyfriend. Everything about Emmett projected playfulness while we exchanged phone numbers and such, and I almost couldn't believe I'd felt threatened by him mere minutes ago.

After scooping up Alice and get her in the passenger's seat of my car, Jasper vouched for me and gave his data too; I'd never be able to thank him enough for what he did that night, and felt a tug at my heart at the thought. Yet again, I'd made a friend around whom I could see myself grow older.

I apologized some more for something I truly didn't have anything to do with and got in my car; Jasper drove behind me.

The drive back was absolutely silent. Not a word. Alice was fidgety, playing with the hem of her skirt and top while looking through the window.

Not once did she look my way. Not once did she try to explain. Not so much as a thank you for coming to bail her out of this or sticking my neck out for her. Not one apology for wrecking my car after taking the keys and not even telling me.

Anger rose from within me, and I saw the scenery fly by, driving much faster than usual through the empty streets. I couldn't even think straight in my effort to not yell at her.

Once we were parked, Alice practically jumped out and I signaled Jasper everything was ok and he could go. She practically ran all the way to the dorm, but I didn't care.

She was going to explain this to me, right then, rather she felt like it or not. I had several weeks of pent up frustration and three hours of sleep in me; understandably, I wasn't in the mood to drop the issue.

As soon as I came in, she looked up at me from her bed. I was already wrapping my mind around all the things I wanted her to justify, at the time, but it all went blank in a second.

She averted her eyes from mine fast enough to give her whiplash, but it didn't matter. I'd seen what she was trying to hide.

She didn't smell of alcohol; while brooding in the car, I hadn't even taken notice on that detail. But, now, it made perfect sense.

Her pupils were dilated, red rimming her eyes. Even then, she continued to fidget, and now I knew why.

"Alice…", I whispered.

I stood there, in shock. I'd known her for years. I couldn't believe she'd taken drugs, and yet I'd just seen its effects, in more than one way.

A sob broke through her chest, and I was rendered useless. I didn't know what to do, that second. I was sure this wasn't a recurrent experience for her – I would have certainly known if she'd developed a… habit, but what would the best course of action be?

Yell at her for what she'd done? Embarrass her by calling her parents? Lecture her?

That's not what she needed. I still knew this girl, I just needed to reach out to her and understand.

So I willed all my judgments aside. This was Alice, and I wasn't her parent, or her doctor; I was her friend, and the one she needed right now.

So I sat beside her, and pulled her tiny frame so her head rested on my shoulder. She didn't shy way, wrapping her arms around me and crying out broken sobs for minutes straight.

"Alice… why? Just tell me what happened, what started all of this", I tried, after thinking she sounded somewhat calmer.

"I'm so… so sorry for this, Bella. God, I'm an idiot…", she finally said, her voice somewhat muffled by my sweater.

"It doesn't matter right now, just breathe. Here", I reached out to a bottle of water on top of her nightstand and gave it to her, "drink this, small sips at a time. You need to keep yourself hydrated"

She broke away from our hug, drinking while dry sobs erupted from her chest. I waited patiently and held her hand, trying to convey to her that it would be ok.

"I've been an idiot!", she shrieked, suddenly, and in any other situation I would have chuckled. "It was just, I needed an escape. I needed to just get out, break free, to not feel anything. Things just went array, and I knew there wasn't anyone who'd understand. You just have so many theories… I'm a failure"

I cut her off when she stopped making sense.

"Alice, all theories aside, just tell me what happened. I won't judge, I promise. I just missed you. I do miss you", I admitted, tears filling my eyes.

She nodded and sighed, collecting herself a bit more.

"This summer, I tried everything. I went through all of my sketches and photos of work I'd done and put together a portfolio with the best ones. And I sent it out to the magazines I envisioned myself working in one day, and even some I didn't; to some companies, too. Some didn't even answer, and none offered me an internship", she explained, tears silently welling down her face; it was, in many ways, sadder than her previous sobs.

"Why didn't you tell me this?", I asked. I didn't even know she'd been after a job.

"Because I always thought there was a possibility no one would accept me, and didn't want to see the disappointed look on your face. Bella, this is what I do. I don't excel at anything really, but I'm actually good when it comes to fashion, it's my thing. And I know you have these theories that, if you push yourself hard enough, and if you want it bad enough, you'll get it, but this isn't like that. You can't control everything! Or maybe you can, and I just failed miserably…"

She trailed off, shaking her head and wiping the tears away.

"You're not a failure", I stated, meeting her eyes. "These things just aren't based on talent, that you have plenty of, or effort for that matter. It's about catching a break and being persistent. Nothing defines who you are, especially not this. And fashion isn't the only thing you're good at, quite the contrary, but I think you should pursue it, if that's what you really want. And it won't be easy, but no one ever said it would be. Good things are worth fighting for. But what you did tonight… Alice, someone might have gotten hurt"

"I know", she interrupted me immediately, shaking her head, "It was so stupid of me. I swear, I'd never done this before… All those other nights, I just drank and took a cab back, or asked someone I knew from class for a ride…"

"I know you didn't think it through. We'll take care of it, I'm just glad nothing terrible happened", I answered, trying to soothe her, but scared about it myself.

"I'm sorry for taking your keys. Was that boy the one you're working with?", she asked suddenly, meaning Jasper.

"Oh, no, Jasper is from my Psychology class", I answered, watching as she lied down and closed her eyes, emotionally and physically exhausted. "You should sleep. Remember, drink water but don't gulp it down; it won't take long for it to be out of your system"

"Thank you. For everything", she whispered, turning over as I tucked her in.

I knew we still had a lot to talk about. I knew this night had left scars that would take some time to heal.

It still stung that she hadn't trust me to believe in her. Once upon a time, she'd given me confidence and support; now, I'd get to return the favor.

"You're welcome. It's my job, you know; as a best friend", I whispered, stealing a page from her own book. She smiled a little, quickly losing consciousness.

After making sure her breathing was even, I left her to sleep and sat down at my desk. My chest burned as I saw the day's first light. I felt so confused, so overwhelmed by the night, and I wished I could sleep it off, but I knew I wouldn't be able to.

I felt weak, fragile and broken. And I couldn't even find a good reason for it.