Edward still absolutely furious at everyone, and refused to be around when they watched the videotape two days later. Caught up in his resentment, and my own anger, I haven't talked to Alice since that day at school. I was still horrified that she would choose some school thing over Edward. I mean, it's Edward! She was close to him the way I was close to Jasper. When did our group start to break up into pairs? When did one other person start mattering more then the other four?

Well, now I'm being hypocritical. I was furious with my own sister in defense of one other person. We had become a pair of our own. Damn, growing up really is confusing as hell, isn't it? Maybe I'm being unfair to Alice. No, I shouldn't phrase it that way. I am being terribly, meanly, unfair to Alice. I heard her crying yesterday, she was talking to dad, and she said I hated her. We've never gone more then one hour of fighting before we made up, and it's been almost four days today.

I glanced over my shoulder, she was sitting in the rocking chair silently, and she had turned it so she could look out the window. Her eyes were distant and sad, and she looked exhausted. Was that my fault? Had I stressed her out so much that she was getting physically ill? It wouldn't surprise me. Alice had always been like our mom, the carefree and sometimes irresponsible type. I was like dad, I grew up when I was like seven and tried to take care of her; and him once I learned how to cook. I've tried to be a friend, a daughter, a sister and mother for half of my life.

So I can presume Alice feels like a lost child, one who's mother has disowned her. One whose sister has turned her back on her. Thinking about it that way really did make me feel horrible. I sat up on the bed and asked, "Can we talk?" She looked at me in shock; the hope shining in her pretty brown eyes was almost painful to look at. She hesitated, "Are you sure you want to?" I forced a smile, "Why wouldn't I?" She looked away for a while before slowly walking over to my bed and sitting with me. She admitted, "I would understand if you never wanted to again. I saw the video; I saw how happy Edward was. We all missed that for nothing. He needed us there, and we just blew him off."

I patted her back; "He'll forgive you all eventually. But now you can't miss a single baseball game!" We both laughed a little bit. Hers was distracted, not at all like it used to be. I asked, "Is something else bothering you, Alice?" She nodded and leaned against the wall. I asked, "Are you going to tell me?" She sighed, "I shouldn't, I said I wouldn't…." That worried me, a lot. I promised, "I won't tell anyone, not even Edward?" She thought about it for a while before admitting, "Jasper fainted at the school on Tuesday. He fell right off of the stage and cracked his head on the floor. We told his mom I had accidentally hit him with a board because he was afraid to tell her he passed out; he says it's the third time it's happened. He's really scared."

I frowned seriously, worry making my muscles tighten. I guessed, "You are too?" She turned to look at me, her eyes trusting and terrified at the same time. I knew I was about to assume my role as an advisor. She asked, "Wouldn't you be scared, Bella? He's passing out! What should I do? What would you do?" I knew she wasn't going to like this; it would break her promise to him. "I would tell his parents. This could be serious, Alice, people don't just go around fainting. You know that Rose would do it, too." She sighed, "That's true." After a long silence I urged, "What are you going to do?"

I had promised not to tell, and I wouldn't. After another long pause she decided, "I think I'll talk to Jasper, and see if we can talk to Jennifer together." I agreed, "That sounds like a good idea to me." She smiled a little bit and slid off the bed. "I'll go over now. Tell dad I'll be back before ten, okay?" I nodded and watched her as she pulled on a light jacket, got onto her bike, and started down the sidewalk. I went downstairs and started making some chicken for dinner, wondering every minuet that passed what Alice was doing.