A/N: This chapter has gone under a full edit, in order to slow down the story. Some new things have been added that I sort of skipped previously. Chapter four will be going under revise as well, not fully mind you, I'm just going to add to it, make it longer. There is no need to reread the next one, unless you want some more Lia/Edward bonding.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, it's characters, or any recognizable names.

"A spider web is tangled up with me,
And I lost my head,
The thought of all the stupid things I'd said."

- Trouble, Coldplay

There was no possible way. Their names had to be a coincidence. Luckily, my face betrayed none of the curiosity or surprise that I had felt at the moment. I must've looked like an idiot to her, sitting there, with no intention of moving.

"Are you deaf or just stupid?" she half-yelled, I knew she was upset, looking into her eyes, I wondered whether, where she to turn a vampire, she would have the same ability as Jane.

I flashed my most angry look, letting her know I was completely fed up with her insults.

She gasped in surprise, my hostile glare eons more menacing than hers.

Maybe I shouldn't have said that.

"Maybe you should lighten up with the comments before I..." Edward! I heard my father figure's warning.

I clamped my jaw shut, grinding my teeth together, turning them to dust, the dust filling my mouth, the dust swallowing my retorts.

"You what? Tell me Edward, what exactly are you going to do to me? Huh?" She was getting dangerously close again, did this girl have no sense of self-preservation, had Bel... she been right when she said I wasn't as scary as I thought I was?

108 years of living taught you that the world was indeed, small.

She snapped her fingers loudly, right in my face, as her small features twisted in frustration.

"Look, I don't want to be in here as much as you don't want me to be in here but you're stuck with me. I have to keep you company." The words had come out a lot nicer than my previous ones, her name the source of my curiosity, Carlisle's demands rooting me in place.

She was surprised at my quick change in temper

Is this boy bipolar or something?

She crossed her arms around her chest, raising her chin slightly. She wasn't going to budge, not an inch. Quickly, she made her way to the window seat, picked up a tattered copy of The Catcher in the Rye and proceeded to read.

Well, she wasn't really reading, she was just ignoring me. Her brain wasn't processing anything on those pages.

It was that kind of a crazy afternoon, terrifically cold, and no sun out or anything, and you felt like you were disappearing every time you crossed a road. I wonder if he's staring at me. People always think something's all true. How the hell is he so hot? I don't even know what I was running for, I just felt like it. I wonder what his hair feels like.

She kept doing that, just thinking about me while trying to read her book. I had the urge not to smirk, if only she knew her efforts were wasted.

But it wasn't what she was thinking that was bothering me. No, I had heard similar thoughts countless times, lust for my appearance, carelessness for anything else. The strange thing was that the book she was reading, not her musings of my looks, was the source of irritation.

Why would she be reading that book? With its lack of structure, chaotic thoughts, and weak plot, The Catcher in the Rye should've never been published. She would've never read such a story, she had better taste, although sometimes too romantic for my liking, at least she knew her way around good literature.

I continued watching her, studying her face better. She had these elf-like ears that poked out from her hair sometimes and high cheekbones, accented by the thinness of her face. She had almond shaped eyes, long, flaring eyelashes, and heavy lids. Her eyes, although the same shade as hers, were not as big or as warm, they held none of the security and openness I was used to. Her eyes screamed coldness, the shade too deep to be called brown, they blocked out all depth, all entrance. Her eyes were too menacing to dwell into; they released no secrets, held no pain, held no fear, held nothing.

People never notice anything.

I saw a flinch of understanding across her face, a glimpse no human would've noticed. She wasn't paying attention to me anymore. She was now fully immersed in the mind of Holden Caulfield.

But why? Why of all books?

I couldn't constrain my burning curiosity, I had to ask.

"Are you amused by that book?" I stared at her expectantly, I'd be damned if she ignored me again.

She turned to look at me slowly then, her eyes a tad wider.

"Why are you still in here?" she questioned, her eyes narrowing again, the irritation still present in her voice.

"Why are you refusing to talk to me?" I bit back, not understanding why on earth she was choosing to ignore me. I hadn't even asked her anything personal yet, that was when the rest of the girls began to close up.

"Because," she paused, letting out a tired sigh, "we both know that the only reason you're in here, hell, the only reason anyone ever comes in here is to probe and push and dig into my mind, so yeah… like hell I'm talking to you." Her voice was like acid, her eyes scorned, she continued to glare for dramatic effect.

Mesmerizing

Her stare softened a little bit, as my effects started to take hold, right before she turned herself around once more.

Following her previous actions, I sighed tiredly, planning my next move.

Lia kept thinking about Holden and New York and ballet… and food.

I searched around her temporary room, it was dull, cloudy, as though rain had made it's residence here. Half of her stuff was currently sitting in cardboard boxes lined up against the wall. There wasn't much to look at, the only thing I could see held anything remotely personal was the table besides her bed, where an iPod dock, some more books, and a packet of winter green gum. The Lord of the Flies, Madame Bovary, The Age of Innocence, and This Side of Paradise. Appealed by the new literature, I went and picked the first book up.

If this had been her room, the books would've been Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, Romeo and Juliet, and Emma.

I forced any thoughts of her out of my mind. I wasn't sure what hurt more, to remember or not to remember. None of these had to do with love; this was not the romantic literature she had been so fond of. These books had a deeper meaning, a darker, more sinister view of life. I was repulsed by the books, so suddenly, all I could think of was how dark even her literature choices were. I couldn't bring myself to be impressed, the way I would've been were I not in such a broken state. I suddenly yearned for the sweetness and romance of the word of my beloved. I did not want to see such depressing, truthful reading choices.

I quickly turned my head away, focusing instead on the television, a cardboard box stocked with dvd's and a player right next to it.

"Oh will you stop sighing for god's sake?!" Lia's exasperated voice breaking me from my lingering thoughts.

"I was not sighing!" I replied defiantly, could vampires get a headache? Had I ever met someone so annoying?

"Yeah, whatever, go be bored, depressed, or whatever the hell you are somewhere else, because I'm sick of it." She kept glaring; it was all she ever did.

"I haven't said more than two sentences to you, how am I possibly grating on your nerves?" I tried to reply as calmly as I could, trying to waver her glare.

"Yeah, maybe you haven't said anything, but you keep on making these noises, they're so annoying, honestly. Let me get one thing straight, whatever you came in here for is useless, you're wasting your time. Unless you find amusement in a) annoying me, or b) staring at me, then get out!" She had her arms crossed now. Bella used to always tilt her chin up when she did this, but Lia sort of tilted her head to the side, staring menacingly through her lashes.

I was suddenly angry at her for thinking I enjoyed staring at her. There was no one in this world who could even compare…

"What makes you think looking at you would be so appealing?" My tongue sharply threw out the words before I even had time to censor them, I heard her thoughts before I saw her face crumble.

Stupid/fat/stupid/ugly/stupid/bitch/stupid/whore.

She looked on the verge of tears as her mind screamed word after word after word.

She got up from her position on the couch as I stayed in place, horrified with myself.

"I'm sorry Lia, please, I didn't mean…" She cut me off with a mocking laugh, as she stared with eyes so dark and menacing that I had the urge to look away. I had crossed the line with a girl with whom this line should never be crossed.

I cursed myself for my stupidity, I knew the full extent of her disease, yet I sat here, throwing it at her face.

"Get. Out. Now." Her voice was dangerously calm, the eye of the storm.

"Please understand…"

"The only thing I understand is that you are a hateful, stupid, arrogant boy, and that I never want to see you again, anywhere near me, got it?"

Alice had nearly torn my head off that night.

"You insensitive, spoiled, fool!" Alice was swatting my head with her tiny hands, berating the words into my brain.

"Alice, stop!"

"How could you say that to her?! Out of any girl, you decide to say something as stupid as that to a girl with an image problem?!"

"Alice,"

"Don't you dare interrupt me Edward! I'm not done whacking you!" She had somehow received a newspaper, and was resorting to hitting me with that.

She had only stopped with her physical abuse after I promised to apologize and make it better somehow. After her vision confirmed my word, she warned me of the "fragility of a teenager's mind," and that I had better be more careful with my word choice the next time I talked to her. Alice's fury was understood as she stomped back to her room, leaving me to my guilt.

In my defense, how was I to know how to behave around a girl with such emotions? Bella had had low self-esteem, but this girl, this girl's self-image was downright suicidal. It was a thorny vine of mutilating thoughts and criticisms, her own worst enemy.

But, like the gentleman I was raised, I concluded that eventually, I would need to apologize for my actions. I would rid myself of the guilt that had gnawed at me for the rest of that night.

I drove to the Center around noon, arriving in a few minutes. I strode into Carlisle's office, determined to make my mistake right.

"I have come to see Lia." I responded with what I hoped was authority.

I caught the twinkle in Carlisle's eye, and I fought the urge to roll mine.

"Coming to apologize for your reckless attitude I see? Alice must've wacked you harder than I thought."

I clenched my jaw at the feeling of being subdued by my own sister, had my stubbornness slowly diminished? Was I know going to bend at Alice's ever will?

"This had nothing to do with Alice. I realized my mistake long before her lecture. Sadly, I had upset her so deeply that I had no choice but to leave her room, hopefully, after a night's rest, she can come to forgive me."

Carlisle pondered this, but still, he didn't believe me.

"Well, she's at lunch at the moment," he forced back his smile, "but you can wait in her room if you'd like, provided she doesn't attempt to rip your head off once she finds you there."

I held back an annoyed growled as I strode purposefully out of the office and down the hallway.

This is how I had ended up in her bedroom during her lunch hour, searching through her old photo albums.

After searching her DVD collection, and finding an astounding collection of Audrey Hepburn movies, I stumbled across a huge book that I was sure would help break the mystery of her last name.

I flipped open the pages, quite surprised at what I discovered.

It was Lia, except, it wasn't her. This girl had bright ivory skin, a set of full, shiny, hair, and the brightest cheeks and eyes I had ever seen. Her ears poked out in every other shot, making me smile. They were so cartoonish it made me want to call her an elf, rather than Lia.

She was on the beach, her hair blown back, as she smiled towards the camera, the waves crashing right behind her. I continued to turn the album, I saw more photos of friends, parties, and family members. It wasn't until one of the last pages that I found what I was searching for.

I had proof, now I knew.

It was of a twelve year-old Lia, her arm lazily draped across the shoulders of a timid looking girl, the girl… a thirteen year old Bella. The contrast was so shocking I wanted to laugh. Lia had no problems with the closeness of them two, her head was on Bella's shoulder and even in her sleepiness her eyes were still shining, smiling much more than her mouth. Bella, on the other hand, looked shy and uncomfortable with the picture, but smiled nonetheless. She wasn't hugging Lia back; rather her arms had situated themselves between her hands.

I grasped the precious picture, holding it delicately. They were related. They had the same last name and they were related.

I turned the picture around, reading the inscription on the back.

Lily DuPont and Bella Swan, 2005.

Strange, Lillianne never told me to call her Lily, the generic nickname for her full name. I clearly remembered her saying her last name was Swan, not DuPont.

Had her mother remarried? How did she come to know Bella? Why did she introduce herself as Lia and not Lily?

I continued to stare at the picture, mesmerized. The two looked oddly striking, Bella's alabaster to Lia's ivory, chocolate against coffee, quietness against brightness. And where was this girl? This Lia who I had seen in countless photos? The girl in here certainly wasn't her.

I heard her thoughts before her light footsteps.

575 calories. They forced 575 calories down my throat. 575, 575, 575. Stupid, fat, disgusting, ugly bitch. I'm not thin enough to be in here, not enough. Never enough.

I put away her private things at vampire speed, only a tad embarrassed at digging through her stuff.

Lia Pov

I held on to my stomach, my once small, tiny hole of a stomach was filled to the brim. I was a balloon ready to pop, bloated, gross, disgusting. Fat. That was all I ever was, a fat mess. But I kept holding on to it, hoping that maybe the pressure of my hands would diminish the heaping mass that lay within. I held back the tears that I knew would inevitably fall sooner or later.

Eating made me panic, eating made me lose control. Once I started I couldn't stop. I would stuff, stuff, stuff and then puke, puke, puke. Sometimes, I didn't even need two fingers for it to come back up. The thought of not being able to take back the food was sending me close to hyperventilation. I could feel it spreading throughout my body, the densest part feeding my thighs, my breasts my arms, everywhere.

Breathe Lia, just breathe. I felt my stomach expand, biting my lip so hard that I was close to drawing blood. I choked back a sob before I stumbled into my room, slamming the door as quickly as possible.

I sank to the floor as soon as I heard the door behind me, trying to quiet my sobs. It's only food Lia, food hardly causes death. I fisted my hands into my eye sockets, trying to dig them out.

If I was blind, recovery would be easy.

I felt a knot twist in my gut, as my throat became dry. I kept crying, for what? I didn't know, I never knew. All I knew was how I felt… alone. I felt gross and fat and pathetic and so terribly alone. My mother had dumped me here, for the second time. I didn't have any friends, not anymore. I had been sent back from PNB, as close as you can get to being kicked out.

I hated this room, hated it with a passion. It was always so damn cold in here, so scary at night, so dark. It engulfed me, shadows came out of the closet and smothered me, overwhelming in their feeling. The fog still remained in the morning.

I heard someone clear their throat.

I looked sharply to the figure standing in front of me. How could he? How could he come in here? Watching me? The boy had the nerve to show me pity.

"What are you doing here?" I choked out, it almost sounded like a hiss.

I saw the conflict in his eyes, the discomfort of the situation making him look anywhere but me.

"I…"

"Get out." I contained a sob, the tears drying up slightly, his presence sobering me up.

His jaw was clenching again as I angrily wiped away my tears and got up from my place on the floor. I went to open the door, signaling him to haul himself out. But, rather than leaving as I had instructed, he simply clamped the door shut.

"What are you…"

"Listen," He seemed determined. Edward, that was his name.

My anger hadn't diminished, the embarrassment of letting this boy see me cry wounded my pride, and I knew what he was going to say.

"No, I don't care about your apologies, I honestly don't want to hear it, so if you could get out now, that would be fantastic." I explained through gritted teeth, keeping the quiver out of my voice.

"No." He voiced this with such conviction that I felt the need to shut up and listen to what he had to say.

I wiped at my face again, making sure it was dry.

"So what? So now you're sorry for what you said? I get it. You don't have to say anything." The truth was that I didn't want to hear anything he had to say, I didn't want to hear the pity that would surely color his voice. I could stand a lot of things, but my pride would never take sympathy.

"Could you for once just listen to what I have to say?!" He was frustrated, that I was sure, I could almost hear a growl rumbling in his throat, it was frightening.

Determined not to show him my fear, I crossed my arms and stared defiantly up at him, showing that I was willing to listen.

"Look, I know that what I said was…insensitive."

I fought the urge to scoff, hating the way he was wording his sentences.

"And I'm sorry that I made you feel the way you felt, but please understand that I had no intentions of making you feel inferior,"

I cut him off there.

"So, there. You said what you needed to say. Do you feel better now? Can you breathe a sigh of relief now knowing that your pathetic attempt at an apology has been given?"

I had not registered half of the sentence he had said, all I could really see were his eyes, the dull gray of the walls, the sound of my heart beating, and the words inferior, insensitive, and intention.

Inferior, insensitive, wasn't my intention.

Inferior. Insensitive.

Inferior.

The lovely hue of topaz disappeared as he closed his eyes, and all I could see now was dull gray.

"That didn't come out right either." His sigh sent a cold, sweet scent my way.

It smelled heavenly, like winter. I could taste it on my tongue.

"How many redo's do you want? Do tell Edward, as you can see, I have all day." His beautiful face couldn't stop the annoyance, anger, and jealousy I felt for him.

He was handsome, he smelled amazing, and he had the smoothest voice I had ever heard. He would never feel such blasphemous self-hate, how in the hell could he ever try at sympathy? He had no idea.

"You are wrong." He growled, the topaz lighting my sight once more, more furious, blazing.

"About what?" I stuttered, momentarily stunned at the glorious fury displaced on his face.

His gaze never wavered from mine, studying me for a moment, searching for something. Whatever it was, he didn't find it.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing." He turned on his heel then, leaving me to my solitude, the door slamming in revenge. It hurt my ears.

Sometimes I wondered why I acted the way I did. Why couldn't I have just listened to him? Why couldn't I have just accepted his apology?

Would I be alone now? Would I feel the way I felt? Maybe, if I hadn't been so defensive, I could be having a conversation with him. I would've had company, but the only thing in my room right now where ghosts, darkness, shadows, and vines.

I was being smothered again, held firmly in place by absolute fear. I had always hated darkness in unknown place. This was not my room, this was not my home. Where was home? It wasn't here, it wasn't in California, it wasn't back in the dorms of PNB.

Home had been on stage at 6:00 in the morning for rehearsals. Home had been in the studio with pointe shoes and wooden barres. Home had been in the worn out practice tutu I pulled on for Pas de Deux and variations. I yearned for my chocolate leotard and ripped tights, for my fuzzy legwarmers and oversized sweater. I wanted to pull my hair in a bun and step into a box of rosin.

Home was not here.

I pulled the covers high above my head, trying to remember myself practicing, trying to find some semblance of comfort. Every time I came close to fully submersing into one of my dreams, I would wake up with a sudden shock as the shadows engulfed me once more, reminding me of where I really was.

Dull, gray, cold. This was not home.

Edward Pov

I was restless last night, ironic, because I could not sleep.

Regardless of my disastrous attempt at an apology, it did not make the guilt reside. Rather, it continued to build.

I kept on replaying the image of her face, over and over again. I had seen that look before, but never had I seen it directed at me. The only thing that could come close was when I left her.

It was a look that said she wasn't angry or sad because of me, it was because of her. She had silently agreed with me, agreed at my ignorance.

It was saddening.

I kept remembered the photo I had took, the one of the two together.

I put down my copy of Gatsby and picked up the picture on the side table. I noticed the brightness in her eyes, the dim light cast by the lamp casting shadows over them. I saw Bella's shy smile, the way it had always been; there, but timid.

I ran my hands through my hair as I contemplated what to do next. I could leave, would she be there, Still awake?

Bella, where was she? Was she at home, was the dog with her? Were they doing anything… together?

I growled in frustration as horrid images of the two flashed through my mind, the things Alice would never see, but I didn't need her abilities to conjure up conclusions.

He would give her everything I couldn't, everything she had ever wanted.

I rose from the spot on my couch; the bed had been left back at Forks.

Lia Pov

My heart thudded painfully against my chest as I heard my door open. I knew I was overreacting; whoever was coming in here couldn't harm me.

Why would the nurses show up this late? I once again wondered how many pills these people were giving me.

"Don't be scared." A voice hissed, I knew that voice, knew he wasn't normal.

"Why shouldn't I be you weirdo?! Sneaking in my room at night?!" I would never mention that as absurd and random this meeting was, I felt relief that someone has here in the dark with me. The voices had slipped back in the closet, shut behind the black screen.

"I wanted to apologize."

"Is that the best excuse you could come up with?" I reached to turn on my lamp light, only to find that his hand made it faster.

Wasn't he besides my door a second ago?

I saw his ocher eyes softer than ever before, he wasn't glaring at me for once.

"And I, well if I ever caused you trouble, no I never meant to do you harm."

I would really like to know what people think Lia's character is like? You might be shocked with the coming chapters. Has anyone made any guesses? How do you think she was like before this?