Alright people I have 1 question right now ... Why does everybody hate Baillie? Damn!
AGAIN, this is not a Paul Imprints of Bella story. Duh.
And please remember to review your vote on what Izzy should name her son. The choices are in chapter 7, and please pick from those choices.
chapter 8.
We've moved three times since I told Paul and Baillie about the baby. Right now we're in Colorado driving and by tomorrow afternoon we will be in Wyoming, it would probably be tomorrow morning but me being pregnant I've had to pee like a hundred times a day! Okay, that may be an exaggeration. I'm a little antsy about moving back up North but whatever, it's been awhile since I felt cold.
Baillie is talking to me again. Well, sorta. It's kinda like awkward small talk and I still see the flash of bitterness in her eyes sometimes but I can handle it. I mean hell, I went through dealing with Edwards rejection; I think I can handle this. I can also say his name now. It still hurts but not nearly as bad as in the beginning when I couldn't even think about him without crying, and I thought about him all the time.
Right now though we're taking a rest for the night in this apartment, slightly bigger than our last one. Paul and Baillie have their own room again I got my own too.
It's a full moon tonight and I wonder if werewolves, not like Paul but from the old scary movies, are real too. Ya never know these days.
In my bedroom, I have one small window, right next to my twin sized bed. The window is perfect size for someone as small as me, and I've spent all night looking through it. The moon looks so small high up in the sky, like I could just reach up and grab it and cradle it in my hands.
Another wave of nausea hits me and I run out the door.
I'm bent over the toilet but nothings coming up to my shock.
"Izzy? You need anything?" A silver bell voice rings out, sending shivers up my spine. Baillie.
"Uh ... no thanks. I think it was just a false alarm." I reply, standing up. I still feel kinda woozy but I think I'll be fine.
"Okay." Baillie says slowly and walks back to her room. She looked skeptical but there was still the bitter edge to her voice and an unfathomable emotion in her violet eyes.
"Okay," I murmur to myself and walk out.
I just need some fresh air, I think to myself walking up the stairs that supposed to lead to the roof. I relish in the crisp night air, slightly chilly. I should've grabbed my jacket.
"Okay," I say to myself again taking deep, relaxing breaths.
I sit down in a spot that doesn't have any gum or cigarettes on the floor. I focus on nothing but the way the cool breeze tangles my hair around my face, it tickles, and the way the moon illuminates the night sky, the way twinkle of the stars.
"Izzy," a voice comes from behind me, I recognize the clarity and musical tune to it. And still the bitter edge.
"Baillie," I greet her, trying to match her attitude but not quiet succeeding.
She sighs and sit down next to me. "You've been out here awhile, I brought you jacket." I finally notice the bland, brown jacket I've kept since High School, since Forks.
"Thanks." I shrug into my jacket, embracing it's defense against the cold. Did the temperature drop some?
"Yup." Is all Baillie says in reply.
I feel another crack form in my glass skin at the pain of her bitter, angry tone.
"B ... why are you so pissed off at me?" It's the stupidest way to confront her. I know why she's mad; she's going to think I'm just a fuckin' retard.
Another sigh. "You remember when we were at your motel room, Paul had just left to patrol some. You had just gotten outta the shower after explaining to me about vampires and werewolves and whatnot."
She looks at me, her face crumpled in sadness.
I nod. It's all I can do.
"Okay ... you remember how I asked if you had any tampons and you gave me some 'cause I was supposed to start." Her voice breaks. I nod again and stare at her. She stares back, waiting for me to understand.
"Oh!" I realize why exactly her voice broke on the word "supposed".
"Yeah," She takes a deep unnecessary breath, "I never started my damn period after I was Changed. I'm ... infertile." I notice vaguely that her finger tips are shaking and her eyes are shining again. "I'm fucking menopausal."
But I still don't completely get it. She can't have kids ... big deal. She never told me she wanted babies.
I blink at her and she sighs again.
"Izzy, you are having the child of the man I love more than anything. Now, yes even if I could have babies I would still be upset but ..." She sighs again and takes a few deeps breaths, like she's nervous she might break the building. She probably could. "You get to have Pauls' baby. I would do anything for that. You get to watch his son grow and know that half of him is you too. I won't ever get to know that feeling." Her fragile voice broke on the last word and a sob racked her slender shoulders.
Oh, there's something she has in common with vampires. She can't have children. Oh.
My thoughts flash back to Rosalie and Esme and tiny Alice and even Victoria enters my mind.
And suddenly I don't seem so breakable. Suddenly Baillie is the one made of glass, and a wide crack just opened up where her heart should be.
"I am sorry for being such a bitch and hurting you. But I am also not sorry at the same time. I'm so ... Ugh! I don't know what I am! I don't understand anything!" Baillie's shaking with sobs and suppressed anger. Her eyes are shining brighter than I've ever seen them. "Izzy ... please try and understand all this better than me. I hate you," daggers cut through me. My glass body is so close to shattering. "But at the same time ... I still love you like a sister."
Tears fill my eyes, half because of the pain from the spinning needles coarsing through my veins and half from the happiness that's sweeling my heart. She still loves me like a sister. Sorta.