Chapter 3

For as long as I can remember, I have been taking care of Rosalie. Because she is so outgoing and adventurous and spontaneous, she got into quite a bit of trouble in high school. If she would get drunk at a party, or get busted trespassing on Old Man McWaters property, or get caught skipping class (which she didn't do often), I was always the one to bail her out. I came up with excuses, I stretched the truth, and sometimes, when she was desperate, I took the blame. I know it probably doesn't make sense, but Rose is my other half. She is everything that I'm not and if anything happened to her, I would be missing a very large portion of myself. So, I kept her out of as much trouble as I could, and when I couldn't, I took care of her, just like I know she would do for me.

Because Rosalie is so outgoing and adventurous, I'm the opposite. I never like to try new things because I don't like change. I never go on spontaneous adventures because I like carefully planned activities better. I'm a planner. I like schedules. I like order and routines. Rose, of course, is the opposite. Where I plan, she just does. She often doesn't think through the consequences, she just goes with what she feels like doing. She also doesn't like schedules and routines. She loves change; in fact, she thrives on change. See? Exact opposites. That's how it is for everything, actually. Especially guys. Because Rose is a blonde bombshell, she has had guys throwing themselves at her from the time they knew what girls were. In elementary school, she was the girl getting kissed on the playground. In high school, she was the freshman dating the seniors, getting invited to all the dances, all the parties, and all the sports games. Later in high school, she was the one dating the captain of the football team, or that super sexy school loner. It was a parade of men. She never used them, or anything. She was never anything but fun and nice. But when she lost interest, she let them know gently and moved on to her next prey. It was an art really. That continued all throughout college. She would call me one Friday night and tell me about this amazing guy she's going out with and then the next Friday, it would be someone new. After college, she moved down to California for a while and continued the same thing. And then she came back to Seattle and seemed to settle down some, dating guys for months at a time.

And then there was me. In elementary school, I was the one that boys picked on, and not in the "I like you so I'll be mean to you" way. They put gum in my hair, pushed me down on the playground, and pulled my pigtails. In high school, they avoided me like the plague. I was never invited to school dances. I was never asked out on dates. I was never passed love notes in class. The only reason I went to my senior prom was because I begged Edward to go with me. We ended up leaving 10 minutes into the dance and went down to our old hangout at the park. That was more fun anyways. That unfortunately continued into college. I had guy friends, but none of them ever made a move on me. I actually had a crush on one of my really good guy friends, Jake. I thought something might happen there, but life happened and Rosalie happened.

It was the weekend of Easter my junior year of college and Rosalie was coming to stay with me for 2 nights. I was so excited to introduce her to my friends, and especially Jacob, who I wanted her to approve.

"Ok, so your train comes in at 6, right?"

"Right, and you better not be late to pick me up like last time," she said somewhat jokingly with a touch of seriousness.

"I won't! Geesh. You're an hour and a half late once and they never let you forget it." She laughed.

"So tell me which one I'm supposed to be scouting out, again?"

"Jacob. He's the super tall one with a great tan and a killer smile. You'll know who he is, trust me."

"Alright, I'll try not to flirt with him, but if he's hot, no promises," she joked. She didn't actually know that I was terrified he would like her better. Not only was she gorgeous, but she was funny and nice. I was just nice. Not for the first time, I wished with all my heart that I looked like Rose.

"That's not funny, Rose! I really like this guy."

"I know, Bella. I know. I would never take him away from you. You know me better than that." That's not true. In high school, I had the biggest crush on Jesse White. He was a year ahead of us and was in my art class. He was on the soccer team and was just a world-class hunk. I didn't tell anyone that I liked him, because I was too embarrassed, but I did tell Rosalie that I thought he was cute. The very next day, she sought him out and introduced herself to him. That same evening, she told me that she had met Jesse. "You're right, he is cute," she said with a wink and went off to her room where she proceeded to talk with him on the phone for hours. They dated for two weeks. It wasn't her fault that I didn't tell her I liked him, but at the same time, she should have picked up on my feelings, but she didn't. I called Edward that night and ranted to him about how unfair it was.

"Bells, you didn't tell her," he said calmly as he tried to calm me down.

"But I shouldn't have to! The fact that I told her I think he's cute should have been enough," I practically yelled at him. Thankfully, Rose was downstairs watching TV, so she couldn't hear me having a hissy fit.

"This is typical Rosalie, kid. This is what she does. You should know that by now."

"I do! I do. I just…I like him a lot, Edward. It's just not fair," I said lamely as tears filled my eyes.

"I know, Bells. I know. But if he likes Rosalie better, than he isn't worthy of you. He's clearly too stupid to see that you're way cooler than she is," he stated fiercely. That is one of the main reasons why I've stayed as close to Edward as I have. He is the one person, besides my dad, that doesn't think Rosalie is better than me. He knows both of us, yet he still likes me better. I've never understood it, but I've also never questioned it. I've just enjoyed it.

So anyways, when she came that weekend in April, she did what she does best and she stole the spotlight. When she met Jacob, I could just see the slobber coming from the corners of his mouth. I'm pretty sure he shifted uncomfortably a few times like she was his wet dreams come true and he was trying to control his, um, little problem.

"Hi there, I'm Jacob," he said as he literally shoved his way to the front of the group where I was standing with Rose introducing her around. He shoved his hand out in front of him.

"Ohhhh, so you're Jacob. Bella has told me all about you," she said as she placed her hand in his and winked at me. Cue blush.

"Good things, I hope," he said as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. That smooth mother trucker. The rest of the weekend passed in much of the same manner. Jacob was bending over backwards to get as close to Rosalie as he could and she just laughed it off. Saturday night, I was in my dorm room finishing up a paper when Rosalie came flouncing in.

"Guess what?" she squealed. I turned to face where she had landed on my bed like she had done so many times before.

"What?"

"Jacob is taking me out to dinner at that new Italian restaurant I've been dying to go to. They only have it here in Providence, you know." I just stared at her with my mouth hanging open.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked angrily as I snapped my textbook closed and stood up abruptly. Rosalie looked startled at first, and then annoyed.

"What are you getting all pissed about? You're the one that wanted me to get to know him. So that's what I'm doing. He's taking me to dinner and I'm sure all we are going to talk about is you," she said as she sat back on the bed and flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder. I sat back down, defeated.

"But he's...I mean he'll…I just…" I couldn't even think of what to say.

"Look, Bells. If you really don't want me to go, I won't. I don't want to upset you," she stated calmly and soothingly. I thought about it for a moment and I knew I couldn't say no. There was no reason for me to say no to her. She wanted to go to that restaurant so badly, and it wasn't like she was going to date him.

"It's fine, Rose. You can go. I'm sorry I overreacted." I turned back to my book and started back up with my paper.

"Apology accepted," she said brightly, "I'm going to use the bathroom to get ready."

They went out that night, and she didn't say anything about it when she came back. When I asked her if she had fun, she just shrugged and said the food was good. That next day, I took her to the train station and she didn't come back to visit for the rest of the year. I was always the one to go down there. The next time I saw Jacob, he asked me for Rose's number so that he could call and apologize and maybe set up another date. When I asked him what happened, he said he kissed her and she got upset. My heart broke into about a million pieces. I didn't talk to Jacob the rest of that year. When I called Edward to tell him what happened, he just listened to me cry and called Jacob an asshole and Rosalie a bitch. I didn't correct him on either account. That was the last time I told Rose about anyone I liked. I also didn't let her near any of my future crushes. I could only be second best so many times before I learned my lesson.

That night after my gallery opening, I went home and I holed up in my room for hours and painted a picture I had taken of a women sitting on my favorite park bench. She was about 30 years old, and when I really studied her face in the picture, I could see despair written all over her face. Something happened to make her so depressed and sad. I wished that I had noticed that day in the park so that I could have talked to her, but I had only snapped the photo and left. With every brush stroke I made, I could feel her expression come to life. I could feel her story unfolding beneath my hand. It was like she was speaking to me through the picture and I was translating that to the canvas. This is what I loved. I loved creating a life in a painting that would have otherwise been overlooked. It made me feel powerful and great.

I didn't get to bed until around 6 in the morning, and I slept even less than the night before. The ringing of my phone awoke me once again. Without even looking at the caller id, I answered.

"This is becoming a really bad habit, my friend," I grumbled. He laughed.

"Painting into the wee hours of the morning again?"

"Obviously," I yawned. "What time is it?"

"Well, it's 1 o'clock here which means it's 10 there. Shall I call back later?" he asked sarcastically.

"No, it's fine. I'm up now thanks to you." I stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom where I relieved myself. I had done this so many times with Edward on the phone that he didn't even comment on it other than his usual "eww."

"So, I'm dying to hear how it went! Give me the details, woman!" So I did. I told him everything. I told him how I was so nervous at first that I thought I was going to need that emergency toilet. I told him how I was so excited that so many people came that I nearly gave an elderly couple a heart attack with my enthusiasm. I told him about the trail of journalists. I told him about Rosalie. I told him about the sales. And I told him about the end.

"After it was over, I was literally just standing there. I can't even describe how I was feeling, Edward. I felt empty and lost. I felt confused, but happy at the same time. I felt relieved that it was over, but disappointed that is was too. I just locked up and came home to paint. I mean, what else could I do, ya know?" I had walked into the kitchen and was starting a pot of coffee. When the doorbell rang.

"Hang on, Edward, someone's at the door." I walked over and opened the door to find my sister standing there with tears streaming down her face.

"Uhh, Rose? What happened?" I asked as I stood to the side to let her in. Immediately she came over and wrapped her arms around me, awkwardly considering I was still holding the phone to my ear.

"Belly, I am s-so s-sorry. I didn't m-mean for it to g-go like t-that. Can you e-ever forg-g-g-ive me?" she sobbed into my shoulder. Meanwhile Edward was yelling into the phone, asking what's going on.

"Edward, I'm gonna have to call you back," I said quickly as I hung up the phone and threw it onto the couch. I led Rosalie, who was still clinging to me, over to the kitchen bar and helped her onto one of the stools. I sat down on the other and placed my hand on her shoulder.

"Rosie, what's going on?" I asked gently. She looked up at me with her red-rimmed eyes and sniffed loudly. I passed her the tissue box near my elbow.

"Belly, I'm so sorry about last night. I don't know what came over me. I should never have monopolized those reporters. I don't know what happened. I'm so sorry." She whispered as tears were still leaking from her eyes.

"Rosie, it's ok. I understand. You like reporters, you always have, hun. I wasn't surprised."

"But I should have known better! That was your night and I took it away from you."

"Hun, all you did was get the reporters off my back. No one in the gallery knew who you were. The rest of the people were there for me, not you. It was a success as far as I can tell," I said reassuringly. She looked up at me confused.

"You mean, they really didn't know who I was? I'm a nobody?" she could barely finish the last question before she started sobbing again. I kinda just sat there, confused and a little annoyed.

"Rose, what's really going on here?" I asked firmly. She said a few words that I couldn't understand because she was slightly hysterical.

"Rosie, I can't understand you," I said soothingly.

"Emmett doesn't even know I exist!" She exclaimed loudly before she started crying again. Ah, Emmett. Emmett is the head mechanic at Rosalie's garage here in Seattle and I've always wondered if there was something there. He is such a sweet heart. He used to be a linebacker for UCLA, which is where he actually met Rosalie. She was at UCLA for a mechanics workshop that he was also in. They got to talking and became good friends. When it came time for her to open her own garage, just about a year ago, she asked him to be the head mechanic and he readily agreed.

Emmett is like a big teddy bear. An extremely sexy teddy bear, but still just a giant sweetie. He is well over 6 feet tall with an incredible football player body, you know, the strong arms, big shoulders, and sexy thighs. He is one hundred percent muscle. He's got dark blue eyes and dark curly hair that sets off his tan skin and dimpled smile quite nicely. Ever since I met him a couple years ago when he was visiting Rose at NYU, I always thought they would be such a great pair. But she keeps denying there's anything between them and that they are just friends.

"Of course he does, Rose. He works for you. You guys have been friends for years. He adores you," I stated as I put my hand on her arm. She pulled it away quickly and shook her head.

"No! You don't understand. He doesn't…I mean I don't…Ugh! I don't know!" She finished with a huff. I nodded and smiled sympathetically.

"You love him," I said softly. She nodded slightly and a few more tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Yeah, I do," she sniffed. "I think I always have."

"I know, Rosie." I put my arms around her and pulled her into a hug. I stood up and pulled her with me to go sit on the couch. I moved my phone to the coffee table and sat us down, right next to each other with one arm still around her.

"The thing is," she started as soon as she settled into the couch, still clutching the tissue box, "he doesn't treat me like the other guys do. In the beginning, that's what I loved about him. It's like he's blind to how I look, you know? He likes me for me. But now, I don't know, I just…he just shares friendly small talk but it's like he doesn't even know me anymore. It's like we are barely acquaintances. And I don't know what to do."

"You could just tell him," I suggested. She snorted.

"Yeah right. And have him laugh in my face and reject me? Not gonna happen."

"Have you tried talking to him? Asking him what's going on?"

"…no."

"Why not?"

"…because I've been avoiding him?" I tried not to laugh.

"You've been avoiding him?"

"…yeah."

"Have you ever thought that's why he hasn't been as friendly?"

"…no…yes…I don't know! I just…ever since I realized that I loved him, I haven't been able to talk to him. I choke up whenever he's around. I have to exert all my strength not to just pummel him to the ground and have my wicked way with him. He's just so…god! I don't know! Gorgeous? Desirable? Sexy? I don't know what's wrong with me," she mumbled into her hands. I laughed.

"You're in love. That's what's wrong with you." She sighed heavily and looked up at me, looking utterly defeated.

"I don't know what to do," she said pathetically.

"You talk to him. You build your relationship back up. You be yourself and make him fall in love with you." I grabbed her face in between both my hands and looked straight into her eyes that were shaped just like mine. "You are brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and kind. There is nothing not to love, Rose. He knows that, I know that, hell! The whole world knows that. If he doesn't see it, then he's an idiot and not worth your time or tears."

"I love you, you know that?" she said as she laughed shakily and laid her head on my chest, right over my heartbeat. She always did that when we were younger and she was upset about something. She would crawl into my bed with me, lay her ear right over my heartbeat and just listen, feeling the comfort of my presence. I would stroke her hair and talk softly to her until she calmed down. Sometimes we stayed like that all night, and sometimes she would get up and go back to her own room. Right now, it seemed as though she had no intention of leaving. I grabbed the remote sitting next to my phone on the table and turned the TV on low. After a few minutes, I felt her breaths even out and I knew she was asleep.

We stayed like that for a while, her sleeping and me watching TV. A loud sound on the TV startled her awake and she sat up slowly, blinking sleepily at me. I gave her a soft smile and she returned it.

"Hey sleepy head. You ok?" I asked gently.

"Yeah, I really am sorry about last night," she mumbled. It sounded like she was ready to talk again.

"Tell me what happened," I said in a soft, yet demanding tone to encourage her to open up. She sighed.

"Ever since Emmett has stopped talking to me-"

"Or you stopped talking to him…" I interrupted.

"Don't interrupt."

"Sorry."

"I feel myself slipping away. I've been holing myself up in my office working on the business side of the garage and avoiding going out into the mechanic station, afraid I'm going to see him. Every time I'm around him, I feel like I'm invisible. I feel like he doesn't even know who I am. I mean, everybody knows who I am! I have never felt like this before, and I've been so thrown by it that I've been making an idiot of myself trying to get back to that feeling of being seen.

"With your gallery opening up, all the attention has been on you. It's never been like that before, and I didn't like it. I felt like I was slipping into the background and I thought maybe that's why Emmett wasn't paying me any attention. So, I tried to get back in the press. I set up interviews. I went onto the local TV stations. I broadcasted the garage and the new engine on the radio and Internet. I tried everything and he still didn't say anything about me or to me. I didn't know what else to do. Yesterday, before I left the garage, he was at the mechanic's table and I went to let him know I was leaving. I tapped him on the shoulder and he was definitely startled. I said, 'I'm taking off now, close up for me?' and he responded with 'Sure' and that's it. Not even a goodbye. He hadn't even looked me in the eye to say it. I was so frustrated that when I got here, I kind of lost it. I just needed to know that people still knew who I was and that I wasn't really fading away like I felt I was. I'm so sorry, Bella. It was mean, and cruel, and I shouldn't have done it," she finished quietly.

"It's ok, Rose. I get it. I don't blame you," and I meant it. Right now, all I wanted to do was go to that garage and smack some sense into Emmett, but that could wait for later. "How about I order some Chinese and we can relax tonight? I have to go to the gallery for a bit, but I'll be back around 6. You can stay here until I'm done, if you want to. Sound good?" She nodded.

"I have to pick up a few things from the garage, but it shouldn't take long. I'll meet you back here," she said as she got up off the couch and picked up her purse. As soon as she was gone, I picked up the phone and dialed Edward. He didn't answer and I didn't leave a voice message. I went into my room and made my bed while I was still mulling over what Rose had said. My phone suddenly chimed, bringing me out of my Rosalie/Emmett wedding fantasies and I saw that I had a text from Edward.

I'm in class. What's up? - E

R came by and apologized for last night - B

Seriously? - E

Seriously. I've got loads of juicy gossip to share. Girls night tonight, but call me when you get time tomorrow – B

Will do, kiddo. TTYL – E

Don't call me that – B

Thanks for reading :) I'd love to know what you think, so click on that review button! Until next time. - Mel