Cherry is still asleep somewhere, Mia's been promoted, Readers you are the best thing and...

IT'S MY 29TH BIRTHDAY!

CUPCAKES FOR EVERYONE! Except for you in the front row. No cupcakes for flashers! *giggles and throws confetti*

Chapter Twenty: Riverside and Rocks

"Your daddy was a man-whore, no good piece of shit that couldn't keep it in his pants."

"Bella, this will be your room. You have a roommate, but the rest of the kids are outside now."

"It's just you and me, sug. We can do this without him."

"This is your side of room, here. And your dresser is over here. They have a strict schedule, but I'm sure you'll get used to it."

"Don't worry, sweetie. Mama will take care of you. We'll never have to see that dirty bastard again."

"Bella, do you have any questions? Bella?"

I snap out of my delusions, staring at the light blue painted walls. Riverside Group Home reminded me of a hospital. It was too clean, too orderly, and tried to give the appearance of happiness when everyone inside was sick.

My case worker, Irina Denali, puts my suitcases on the bed closest to the window that's barred shut. My bed is next to the air conditioning unit, where I'm sure to freeze my ass off. It was already dark outside, but the day had gone to hell before the sun even set.

"How long do I have to stay here?"

Irina looks uncomfortable and shifts her feet. "I'm unsure. Mr. Swan is on a flight here right now, but he has to see a judge and prove to be the legal guardian. Once that's settled, he'll file for custody. We're expediting the court date as soon as possible, but it may take a while."

"And then what? I'll have to move to Georgia with him? He left me and Mama to fend for ourselves! I don't want to leave here!"

I don't want to leave Cadillac.

I miss Alice. I miss my house and my drinks and my toenail polish. I miss my bed and my antique dolls. I miss everything.

Irina wraps her arm around my shoulders, giving me a firm squeeze. "Bella, I've talked to Mr. Swan myself. He seems like a decent man. I think you should consider that. Whatever your mother has told you may not exactly be the whole truth. But, let's not think about that now. Get yourself settled in while I go speak to Kate. She's the director here, but she's also my sister. You'll be in good hands."

I have to bite my lip to keep from crying again as Irina leaves the room. This is too much for one person to handle. I'll break down before the week is through; I just know it.

I haphazardly toss my shirts in the first drawer. I don't care how messy they are. I plan on getting out of here as soon as possible. I had feared going to a foster home, but somehow this seems worse.

I peek down the hall, but move back when I see Irina talking to the Kate lady. I could tell they were siblings, both with unnatural blonde hair and brown eyes too light to be real.

Irina hands Kate a file and speaks in a hushed voice. "Here are her records. I went by her house to pick up her belongings, and there were liquor bottles everywhere in her room. I think she may benefit from counseling and your addiction program."

Kate nods with a sad expression. "Poor thing. I'll see what we can do."

"Good. She needs all the help she can get," Irina replies. "I'll be back in a few days. See ya, sis."

Kate waves at her and begins walking, so I duck into the room and pretend to be occupied.

She knocks on the door, but proceeds to walk in anyways. I could tell privacy was not a factor here.

"Bella?" Kate sits on my bed while I stuff shorts into the drawer. "I'm Kate. We're so glad you're with us."

"I'm not," I answer bitterly. "I don't want to fucking be here!"

"I can understand that," she says softly. "It must be difficult with all that's happened to you."

I snort. Difficult? That's an understatement. Having your Mama abandon you and getting your boyfriend thrown in jail wasn't difficult.

It's an annihilation of fucking life, and somehow I'm the only one getting exterminated.

"I'm going to let you get settled in. You'll be sharing a room with a girl named Bree. She's just a little older than you are, so I'm sure you two will get along well. Everyone else is outside, enjoying free time, but they should be back inside in a few minutes. Lights go out at 10, and the daily schedule is posted on the wall. We'll speak again in the morning."

I continue to ignore her as she finally leaves me in peace.

I sift through the worn pockets of the suitcase and my fingers touch something familiar.

I pull it out, and in my hand are wildflowers.

Irina must have found them and packed them with my things.

It's not long before I find the strength to cry again.

And when it rains, it pours.

…

"Gosh, can you shut up already? Some of us are trying to sleep!"

I sniffle, trying to hold back my sobs, but somehow it makes them worse.

The light between the bed flickers on and I roll over. Bree, a girl much too small for her age, with green eyes and brunette hair, glares at me from her bed.

"Sorry," I whimper.

She sighs and uncrosses her arms. "You gotta have tougher skin than that, you know. Otherwise, you'll get eaten alive."

"I can't help it!" I cry, sitting up. "I don't know when I'm getting the hell out of here!"

"At least you're leaving," she replies sarcastically. "Most of us are just trying to age out. At least your father is coming for you."

"How do you know that?" I ask quietly.

"Everybody knows everything here. Your mother's a stripper who left you, and you're a teenage alcoholic."

"I am not!" I hiss too loudly. "You don't know shit about me!"

Bree isn't even fazed by my outburst. "You are an alcoholic. Luckily for you, I don't give a fuck. But if you want out of here as quickly as possible, you better own up to it. Let's say in a magical world your father comes tomorrow. You think they're going to let you leave if you don't own up to your addiction? Nope. They'll make you stay until you get fixed, or transfer you to another facility. That's how it works."

"You're lying. As soon as the judge grants custody, I'm out of here."

"Fine." Bree shrugs and turns out the light.

"If you're not an alcoholic, then I didn't try to strangle my brother in his sleep. Look at that, I guess we both don't need to be here."

…

The morning comes way too soon. I barely got any sleep and Bree's words haunted me all though the night. There's an all-call through the intercom, and I'm forced to wake and take a shower in the communal bathroom. I try to avoid the other girls at all costs.

I go through the motions, showering and getting dressed. Eating eggs that taste like dirt. Dumping my tray and then sulking down the hall for therapy time.

Kate pulls me out of line and tells me to follow her to the main office. "You have a phone call. Usually we only permit them on certain days, but I'll make an exception for you since it's your first day."

She hands me a beige colored phone from her desk, the kind that has various buttons to other offices. She holds up a hand, warning me I have five minutes, and shuts the door behind her.

My hand shakes as I speak through the receiver, wondering who it could be.

"Hello?"

"Bella?"

I raise a fist to my mouth, trying not to whimper with joy. "Mrs. Cullen!"

"Oh, Bella, it's so good to hear your voice."

I sink into the leather chair, attempting to hold myself together. "How did you know I was here?"

"I'm friends with Officer Mallory. We've done a few fundraisers together. She told me where you were. How are you, dear?"

"I'm alive," I answer truthfully.

"That's all I can expect, I guess. I know you're probably scared, Bella, but I just want you to hang in there, okay? Your father arrived early this morning. He's meeting with the judge sometime this afternoon, but I don't know what will happen. I don't know how soon I'll be able to contact you again, since outside phone calls usually aren't permitted."

"Okay." My insides buzz, too excited to keep still. "Is Cad- I mean is Edward there?"

It takes Esme a while to answer. "He is. The judge let him out on bail. But…"

"But what?"

"Hold on a second, dear."

I can hear shuffling and angry voices in the background.

"I told you no! I don't give a fuck! She fucking lied to me, Mom. You tell that bit- you tell her I hope she rots in there!"

"Edward, just- she's going through a rough time. You know what that's like. Give her a chance."

"Hello?"

I want to be happy to hear his voice, but it's not the Cadillac I know. He's detached and bitter, and I can feel his anger seeping through the line.

"Cadillac? I-It's me. Dimples. I-I just wanted to see how you were doin'?"

"Peachy keen. Spending the night in jail was fucking awesome."

"Listen, I'm sorry, baby. I just–I want to apologize. Say I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything that happened."

"Uh huh."

"And-and they got this program here, so I can get better before my daddy comes and gets me. I'm on my way to therapy right now. Th-they can fix me, just like you wanted. So I'll get better and then-then I can come see you when I get out."

"I don't think that's gonna happen."

I stare at the wall and Kate's diplomas begin to blur together. They're distorted and hazy, blending into a black hole I want to jump through.

"Wh-what?"

"You. Me. We're over. I tried to help you, Bella, but you wouldn't listen. We could have avoided all this, but you lied, and now look at us. They're trying to lock me up for good, and Carlisle took my fucking car away. So, I want you to listen carefully and do me a favor. Renee's your mom, so you must take after her. I want you to be like Renee and fucking disappear."

Down.

Down.

Down I fall.

The phone doesn't disconnect, but Esme's voice reappears. "Bella, I'm sorry. He's … he's just angry. Give him some time. I'm going to come see you. I'll find out about visitation and do my best, if I'm allowed, okay? Hang in there, honey. This is just temp-"

I don't hear her kindness or her promises.

Instead, I feel kisses that taste like raindrops.

I sip warm lemonade from a used mason jar and I touch smooth leather seats.

I stare at first-day-of-spring-fresh-kiwi-Christmas-tree-green eyes.

I sit on tire swings and I feel soft caresses that make me fly.

I don't hear a single word Esme says.

I'm too busy crashing, and when I hit rock bottom, it hurts like hell.