A/N: So this is a bit late, and horribly unedited. But I really owe you one, a lot of personal things have happened so far that have kept me from writing this, but I won't moan about them. To all of the amazing people who have favorited, alerted, and reviewed my story, I want to give each of you a million hugs and kisses. I had no idea people would've liked this story so much, especially because it's an OC story. I promise to get back to the habit of writing back to all my reviewers, which I haven't done in the past two chapters. I love writing back and answering your questions, so review away!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable.

"I was the one you always dreamed of,
You were the one I tried to draw.
How dare you say it's nothing to me?
Baby, you're the only light I ever saw.

I'll make the most of all the sadness,
You'll be a bitch because you can.
You try to hit me just to hurt me
So you leave me feeling dirty
Because you can't understand."

John Mayer, Slow Dancing in a Burning Room

I tried not to move my body a singly inch when I felt the clock tick 12:00. Midnight. Lia was seventeen. Lia was now the exact age I was when I had been dealt this fate, an age were we met in the middle, only for a brief moment. We would never be the same age again. I tried not to let the feeling of loneliness, of yearning, from bubbling to the surface. Right now at this moment, whether she knew it or not, we shared something. An insignificant coincidence that had not affected me with Bella, nor with anyone else who happened to share my eternal age. I knew that Bella would eventually be one of us, she would freeze. Lia wouldn't. Lia would grow, Lia would keep changing ages until her bones withered, her hair grayed and her almond-shaped eyes would lower heavily under the strain of her tired skin. My chest tightened considerably, I missed her, terribly so. I missed her in advance for all the years she would not be here, for the years were she would grow out of her affection for me, her immature antics, her unresolved mental instability. She would turn another age, and then another, and the fingerprints I left on her heart would fade, her memory of me would weaken, her life would not be a part of mine, our time together fading into the wind.

Happy Birthday Lia. You're seventeen now, have you grown up yet?

I heard her shuffle towards her mirror, felt her fingertips stretching over the smooth plains of her skin.

No wrinkles, yet.

I chuckled humorlessly, stroking Bella's hair absentmindedly.

I listened to her castrate herself some more, throw herself into another little puddle of self pity. The same excuses she used to make everyone else around her as miserable as she, I had yet to forget what she had done to the poor girl in the cafeteria. I couldn't get the look of satisfaction that painted Lia's face when she had successfully hurt someone else, a girl who had almost as much emotional problems as Lia, almost. The only satisfaction I could pull from the situation was that guilt was slowly creeping up Lia's spine, day by day.

It wasn't so much her actions that frustrated me, it was the fact that it didn't change a thing. I wish that I could say that Lia, was a genuinely good person, but in reality, she wasn't. She was normal. She didn't feel pity if she saw a dog get ran over, yet she couldn't stand the thought of upsetting the people she loved most. Lia hated most people, yet she thrived under social situations. She was an extroverted introvert, an indifferent intuitive. A less-than-casual observer. If Lia was something, she was contradictions. But the fact that Lia had a dark side, one that didn't care to show on occasion, I still cared for her. In fact, it made her more… attractive. No, too complicated, too emotional, too risky, too foreign. She was just, too much. And in all my years, one thing I've learned is there can be too much of a good thing, or in her case, a bad thing.

Bella turned in her sleep once more, mumbling under her breath.

"Edward." she sighed.

3:5 Edwards to Jacobs. As pathetic as it was that I was recording this, it didn't make it hurt any less. I understood that she was worried for him, I understood that she had a right to be thinking about him after he ran away. But does it give her the right to be thinking about him more than you? Lia's voice caressed my ears, a venom of it's own. I tried to shake it out, since when did my doubts on Bella come with the smell of roses? Her tone becoming my voice of worry, her poison filling me with the one feeling I hated the most, the one that had always cast a mental and physical wall between me and my fiancée. Doubt.

It was an ugly thing. And her lovely voice was issuing it out. She was doing this to me. She was plaguing my thoughts, she was killing me.

I heard her light footsteps edge towards her bookcase, she grabbed a DVD, The Lion King. Again. I really didn't understand why she loved that movie so much, it made her cry every time. I heard the familiar African song lulling in the background, just as I sensed the prickling in the corners of Lia eyes, her soft smile. She paused it for a second, hurried down the stairs. She was doing it again. Three bags of popcorn, salt, vinegar, hot sauce. All would end up down the toilet. This was not the first. A week ago she added a box of waffles and a pint of Ben and Jerry's. I suspected Bella knew, but if she did, she didn't say a word. She came bag with two bowls, hurriedly running across the hallway. It was another thing she did, she had watched to many horror movies, and dark places terrified her. She hated blackened hallways. Sometimes, I would hear her let out a little squeal as she raced towards her bedroom. It was endearing, to say the least. Was she not afraid of the vampire across the hall?

It was tempting to not go in her room. If I knew Lia, she would pretend as though nothing ever happened if I wanted to do. That or she would kick me out and try to throw her furniture at me again.

She pressed the play button again. Fifteen minutes later and I heard her throw the bowl harshly to the floor. I heard the voices, felt the shame, saw the tears through the mirror she was looking at. They were small, Lia cried a lot. Her hands balled into fists,

Messed up, again. Messed up on your first day, you promised it would be different. Liar, who cares if you're seventeen? You're still the same little girl, a child, pathetic. Afraid, without willpower. Weak. Less than an hour and you messed up, again and again and again.

I grew nervous as I always did. I knew what was next. Lia was a routine, Lia had rules, Lia punished herself when these rules weren't followed through. Except, this time, she didn't make her way to the bathroom. Rather, she went to her bookcase. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. I felt her prop it open, page 105. Her mind was hazy, messy, more so than ever. But all of this didn't matter, what mattered, was that she was trying something different.

I didn't register that I was making my way towards her bedroom until I opened her door. Her heart jumped as she looked towards me. She stared. I stared back, crossing my arms against my chest. Two minutes and eight seconds past until she said something.

"I'm reading it only because I think the name is pretty. That's all, in fact, I don't even really like the book, I mean, it's just not as interesting to me right now, but I bet if someone asked me tomorrow what my favorite book was, I would say it was this one, only because I like the way the name of it sounds." She blurted, talking as fast as her mind raced.

I couldn't find anything important to say to her, so I said nothing.

"I hate how Stephen keeps saying the word 'queer', and I hate his questions. I get that he's a child, but I hate them anyway. I don't like how he's so conflicted about the most trivial things. And I hate how he's always missing his mother, and I hate that stupid prefect who beat his hands because he broke his glasses because that wasn't even his fault, and why did they kill Parnell? And why is Dante defending the church so much? I thought she was supposed to be smart. And I hate how he loses his virginity to a prostitute, I don't just hate it, it completely bothers me. He isn't supposed to do that…" she shook her head a bit, "he was that stupid little boy with glasses who said moocow and tuckoo and now in the second chapter he has sex with a hooker because he feels all misunderstood with his family? And then he starts doing it all the time? I hate this book, I hate it. It makes me feel like hell. And the worst part is that if anyone asked me tomorrow what my favorite book was, I would say it was A Portrait of an Artists as a Young Man. Because that name is just so pretty."

I continued to stare at her. She had taken off her makeup, she did it at 9:55, every night, after she came back from ballet. Her eyelashes looked soft, her lids were heavy, her face was getting paler, gaunt, purple bruises under her eyes, a lack of tint in her cheekbones that had always been missing. She had never been one to blush.

"Could you please.. Just… say something. Anything." She pleaded, fiddling with the pages in the books.

I questioned my sanity at that very moment. More importantly, what had been my reason to barge in here? Certainly it wasn't to converse with her about her childish behavior in choosing literature, or the fact that she judged books by their covers, or that her previous rambling had been so unfailingly Lia, scattered, messy, hidden. I still took pride in knowing the real her. I often let myself care to wonder how other people would see her if they knew the truth. This perfectly seeming girl, was absolutely everything, everything, but perfect.

I stalled for long enough, too long, she continued to stare. Observing me the way she did, letting her cat-like eyes roam my face, down to my fingertips, her lids heavy with insomnia.

"Congratulations." I seethed, loathing those eyes, hating the way they stared so blatantly.

"For what?" She said quietly, still eyeing my fingers.

I hated myself for what I said next, but I needed to get out of there. I only knew of one way, "For turning 17, God knows no one thought you'd make it this far."

I shut the door faster than she had time to throw her iPod dock at me, it crashed on to the wall.

I rubbed my eyes wearily, sliding down the paper-thin construction that separated us. I knew this time, I had crossed the line farther than ever, she would never forgive me. But what did it matter? We weren't friends, we weren't acquaintances, we were nothing. If she hated me, all the better. I didn't have to deal with whatever feelings accompanied my thoughts of her, I had no right to even think her name, much less breathe it. The only name that should be uttered from my lips was Isabella Marie Swan, the name in itself; beautiful, the only thing I needed in this world. I didn't need her. She was nothing, nothing. Not to me, not anymore, not ever.

It was different the next morning.

"Good morning love." I whispered in Bella's ears as she let out a small yawn.

"Five more minutes…" she grumbled, digging herself further into the warmth of her blankets.

"I don't think it would be responsible of me to let you be late for school," I reasoned, chuckling as she groaned again.

"Then don't be responsible…" she suggested.

I sighed, "Bella love, please? You do have someone you need to say happy birthday to."

She visibly stiffened, I paused.

"Bella?"

She shrugged off the blankets, wrapping her arms around herself. Her eyes looked a bit too red, almost wet.

I sighed, for the second time this morning.

"Bella love, are you alright?" I asked, reaching for her arm, relieved that she let me.

She nodded profusely, "I'm fine, just tired." she lied horribly.

"Bella, please…"

"I need to get ready." She mumbled hurriedly, climbing off the bed.

"I'll go then, I'll pick you up in 45 minutes?" I questioned, wondering if she'd rather not have me drive her. To my relief, she nodded.

"Ok then, I'll see you soon love." I said quietly, sneaking out through her window.

I raced back home. It was absolutely foolish to go into her bedroom, what had been the reason? Did I enjoy breaking my Bella's heart? She had a perfect reason to be wary of Lia, and yet, I didn't bother to follow her wishes. I kept hurting Lia, the more I stayed in her life, and by interfering with Lia's life, I was in turn hurting Bella. My Bella, good, kind, sweet enough to give me a second chance after the hell I had put her through. I was undeserving, and yet, I still managed to hurt her. I didn't deserve her love, nor her patience.

I quickly arrived at the white mansion. Hurriedly entering our living room before I received an onslaught from Alice. Racing up the stairs, I managed to close my bedroom door before she detected me.

Alice knocked loudly. I let her in before she started screaming through the key hole.

I saw her vision.

"Don't talk to her today, it'll lead to trouble."

"I wasn't planning on it Alice." I casually strolled to my bookcase, picking a tattered copy randomly.

She still seemed uneasy, "I don't think it's a good idea for you to go to school today?"

I gripped the book, hearing the pages crumple slightly under my exertion.

"Is that a question or a command?" I asked as calmly as possible.

She shrugged lightly,

"It's a suggestion."

"I'm glad I know I have the choice." I shrugged back, lounging on my bed, propping open A Portrait of the Artists as a Young Man.

Damn.

She zoned out slightly as another vision hit her.

I chuckled, "I'm guessing it's alright for me to attend school now isn't it?" I asked sarcastically.

"Do what you please, I haven't told you to do anything."

"I could disagree."

She stayed quiet or a while then, saying nothing.

I continued to read on, wondering if Lia enjoyed chapter two more than she did the first.

"She's ruining everything." I heard a mutter.

"Excuse Me?" I sat up, slamming the book down. My defenses going haywire, I could only see red.

Alice stood her ground.

"She is. You aren't the same. You were never this way towards me, and for your information, the future you had before she came along hasn't come back. No matter your choices, her very presence has altered your future. You've chosen Bella, yet it's not the same. Do you have any idea how much she's done to you? She has ruined your relationships, you and Bella will never be the same again, can't you see the severity in this?"

I stood up, mirroring her position.

"And what do you suppose I do Alice? Go back in time, reverse it so that I never talked to her? Left her to rot without a single friend in that rehabilitation center? I can't do that Alice. It's done, and to be frank, I wouldn't have changed it if I could."

She slapped me then, the resonating sound vibrating off the walls.

"How could you say such a thing?" she whispered, looking close to tears. "She barged into your life, determined to take Bella's place, seduced you and…"

"She did none of that." I spat.

"Oh? She didn't seem to care that you were her cousin's boyfriend or that you two were engaged for that matter. How could you have feelings for someone like that? A sneaky tramp, no better than Lauren or Jessica or any other girl in that godforsaken school."

"Don't call her that." I seethed, my voice dropping an octave, barely constrained. I couldn't see anymore, I was blinded my a white hot rage, destroying any sense of diplomacy I once held.

"It's the truth. She kissed you, and she knew, she knew exactly what she was doing. She was kissing an engaged man. Not that it bothered to stop her, she hurt our family and my best friend, and I won't stand for that."

"Guess what Alice?" I stated calmly.

"What?" She asked back, as if she were throwing me a bone.

"She didn't kiss me," I shook my head, feeling a bubble of excitement make it's way to the surface, the absurdity and rage of this conversation making me delirious.

"I kissed her. I kissed that sneaky tramp you so boldly called. I happen to adore that girl, that girl who has more in common with me than this entire family could ever hope to understand. And frankly Alice, I no longer care for you opinions, it seems as though you're more fond of my fiancée than you are of me. If you choose to cast me and Lia into whatever personal hell you're holding and then hold Bella on a pedestal, than don't consider me a brother to you no longer. I can no clearly see who you've allianced yourself with."

"Just listen to yourself. Defending her, Bella doesn't deserve you, and I don't blame her for spending any chance she gets with Jacob in La Push. I'm starting to believe that he might be the right choice for her after all."

I let out a loud laugh.

"If only you could see what she was doing there, you might not be so confident of Bella's innocence." I spat.

She slapped me again.

"You're a child." She stared at me with disgust, her fiery eyes burning me. All of my fears, my thoughts, emotions, all hidden so well, had erupted to the surface in 19.8 seconds. Alice knew it all.

"I think that's enough Alice." I heard a strong female voice order.

Rosalie grabbed Alice by the shoulders, never leaving her stare off of me, and led her out of the room.

I let out an inhuman growl, threw the first thing I could think of (the book) and swore.

LIA POV

"Happy Birthday Ms. Lily"

"Happy Birthday Sweetheart."

"Happy B-day Liabean."

I double checked that last text. No one called me that, not anymore. I didn't let them, unless I was totally blown out of my mind. But no, too long ago, it really couldn't be.

That area code, those seven little numbers that I had imprinted in the front of my brain since the beginning of high school. Nate.

My heart rate sped up, my mind started cursing at me. What the hell was I supposed to write? "Oh thanks for taking the time to realize I'm still alive after a year, so how's life? Are you still getting blown by my best friend?"

No. I stared at the text for a full two minutes, before deciding on a simple thanks. There really wasn't anything else to say, no unburied feelings of resentment, no unrequited love. All of those had washed away the moment I had laid eyes on Edward. Still the randomness of this situation automatically made me suspicious, made me wonder if he knew. Did they all? News spread fast in Santa Barbara, it wouldn't surprise me at all if my mom had called all my old "friends" to tell them the absolutely thrilling news.

Going back to California with an aching in my heart.

"How are you?"

He texted back. I blinked. Shook my head, pinched myself. What the hell? So now I was interesting? Did Ellie barely break up with him or what? Was he choosing to talk to me now that his girl left him? Was this happening again, this second best shit?

I turned my phone off. I was angry, I felt stupid. I didn't want him talking to me, I didn't want anyone from that stupid shithole talking to me. I had been done a long time ago.

I stuffed it in my pocket and took my keys.

Bella didn't offer me breakfast, thank fucking god. She didn't talk to me at all anymore, which I was glad for, I didn't know why she had tried in the first place.

I blew passed her, opened the front door, and stepped unto the freezing cold. I could see Edward's punk ass Volvo pulling up to the front, I ignored him, opening my car door with more force than necessary.

I drove to school in absolute silence, no music, no nothing. I pulled up at the right time, fifteen minutes before class, right when everyone else usually got here. I stayed in my car, I was too cold. My fingernails were blue, yes, it was definitely the cold.

No one knew about my birthday here, it was better this way. Birthdays in California meant cupcakes and star bucks and balloons at school, cute little presents and embarrassing songs during first period. I didn't want that here, I didn't expect it, no one knew me, not really.

I waited until the absolute last minute, watching as that Volvo pulled up out of the corner of my eye. He helped her out of the car, she shrunk into him. Her hair was pretty and soft looking and she had these huge eyes and amazing skin. I felt the anger boiling, she was prettier than me. And I hated her for it. She didn't need to starve to death to look like a waif.

The bell rang. Edward and her kept walking together, holding each other up like they couldn't take a step by themselves. I waited until they entered the building before stepping out of my car, flipping my hair customarily. I sighed as I trudged up the steps, determined not to look down, determined to keep my stare off of anyone, they didn't need my stares.

Class had already begun, but I kept walking around anyway, feeling a little too down to enter a class I knew Edward would be in, walking in late, everyone's eyes on me when the emotions I was feeling where written so blatantly across it. So I kept walking, walking, and walking. Wandering around aimlessly, looking at nothing in particular, heading towards the library, I think.

I heard her before I saw her, really, it wasn't my fault, her footsteps were heavy. She walked past me, keeping her head down. Sometimes I wondered whether her footsteps were so loud because of her weight, or because of the way she carried herself. Everything about her just seemed to drop down, drooping, as if too defeated to even try and stand on their own. Her eyes always downcast, her body sagging along with them. It was such a pathetic sight, was that how I looked? Was that why I made such an effort to keep my face off the ground? Was that the only thing that was keeping me from falling on the floor?

I felt that surge of empathy turn into sympathy, turn into guilt, and slowly, my word vomit came up.

"Hey Kate?"

She turned towards me slowly, the sad look slowly disseminating from her face, spreading off of her face, tainting the walls around her. She looked irritated now, angry.

"What?" She let out sharply, too sharply. I was shocked.

I had a second mind to let out a comeback, but the though disappeared immediately, this was the right thing to do.

"Ummm, well, you see…"

"Save it. I don't care." She slowly turned around, walking back the way she was going.

"No! Wait!"

I caught up with her, slowly reaching for her shoulder. She shrugged me off.

"What? Come here to throw something else in my face?" She turned to stare at a spot away from my eyes, but she didn't look any less angry.

"No, I just wanted to.."

"I said to save it. I don't need an apology from some prissy little princess, don't think I don't know what you're doing."

I grew irritated.

"I'm not trying to.."

"Yes you are!" She half-yelled, her voice only growing louder, "You think that I'm just going to accept it because you're one of those girls and it'll suddenly be ok. Like what you do doesn't matter, you are all the same, you have no feelings, all you like to do is make people absolutely miserable."

"Will you just listen?"

"No! just leave me alone." She walked faster this time, seeming as though she couldn't wait to get away from me. I couldn't let her do this, I was just about to do something right for once.

"You're right ok?" I yelled across to her. "I did do that because I wanted to make you miserable, you know why? Because I'm miserable too okay? And I just wanted to make someone else hurt the way I am right now. And I'm sorry, it was shitty and stupid and immature, I'm fucking sorry okay?"

She looked at me for a long while.

"So the rumors are true." She said quietly.

"What rumors?" I asked, seemingly oblivious.

"You're, you know.." she struggled with the right words, fidgeting back and forth, "you have problems with… eating." she finally let out.

"Don't judge me." I warned. I knew what she thought, I was some petty little rich girl who only did it to gain attention, only because it was cool and glamorous and I wanted to look like a model. Everyone was the same, no one understood.

"I have binge-eating disorder." She shrugged, growing a little confident, "I understand. I had to go to an outpatient program for six weeks this summer, I get it."

"I spent two months at inpatient treatment program a year ago, and another month this past January. It didn't work, not even for a little bit."

"I know." She said quietly. "I can't stop either, and I hate myself for it, I just want to look normal, you know? I always try purging the food, but my throat closes up and I can't do it. I really wish I was a puker, I really wish I had the willpower to stop eating."

I felt as small as an ant, knowing what I had done to her. Knowing how triggering that was, how she probably went home and ate her entire pantry. I had been around with binge eaters, bulimics, anorexics, and we were all the same on the inside. All had the same emotional problems, self-esteem issues, how could I have done that to her?

"No you don't, it's exhausting. I crashed my car back in California, I fainted at the wheel, I nearly killed myself. I have to take medication for Amenorrhea, I haven't had a period in nearly three months. I stopped taking the anti-depressants after I started googling how many milligrams it would take to commit suicide, the Celexa is still in my drawer, I keep saying I'm not taking them because I don't need them, but I have almost fifty pills stashed, just in case. I know I won't do it, not now anyway, but they're there, in case."

We were now sitting next to each other, our backs against the lockers.

"My mom hates me, she thinks it's all bullshit, like I can just stop binging, but she doesn't understand, I wasn't always this weight you know, I used to be normal. Then everything got too crazy at home, and food made me feel safe."

"Food is the exact opposite for me, I hate it, it scares me to death. If I eat it I don't have any control and then I start binging, and I hate it when I purge, because everyone knows. I feel like a failure, like I have no willpower."

We were both spilling our guts out right now, this was so much better than talking to that shit therapist.

"The worst things are mirrors aren't they?"

I nodded in understanding, we didn't have to say anymore than that.

"I was always jealous of the anorexics at the outpatient program."

It sent me shivers to even think of that, I had never liked saying that word, it sounded dirty.

I shook my head, "Don't ever be."

We stayed in a somber silence for a while, not exactly comfortable, but it was nice. Most of all, I could just think of how horrible of a person I was. Edward had known what Kate had been going threw, hell he probably saw her thoughts as very similar to mine, yet I had done that, the lowest thing ever. It made it worse, made it blasphemous, because she had the same issues I did. Stupid, stupid Lia, too selfish to think of anyone else's feelings.

"Don't beat yourself up about this." I heard her murmur, she had turned to me.

"what?" I asked, surprised.

She touched her temple, "I know what you're probably thinking, calling yourself stupid? Selfish? A horrible person?"

I tried to let out a smile, but it came out looking too awkward, metal in my mouth. I didn't like this, her knowing, knowing what I felt, but at the same time. It felt good.

"I'm still in EDIOP, still doing lots of therapy, and I've basically been beaten into my brain how…"

"Negative thinking is destructive to yourself and others." We said simultaneously, letting out a tiny laugh.

The bell rang then. Without thinking, I hugged her. I hugged her really hard, and I whispered thanks, because I really needed that. I don't think she liked my hug, she tensed up and patted my back awkwardly, but it had been a long time and I had always been very tactile, I had always wanted to hold on to people so that I wouldn't break. I missed physical touch, it had been too long. Uncle Charlie hated affection and Edward hated me and I never hugged Bella. Maybe I'd give Rosalie a hug someday.

We both went out separate ways, her back to her world and me back into mine. I felt lighter somehow, a little better, that weird nudging in the back of my mind was gone, my conscious cleared.

Edward and Bella were walking with Angela and Ben again, seemingly permanently ditching Lauren and Jessica. I didn't think Angela liked me either, so I pretended not to see them. I didn't care, Angela was too much of a Bella clone anyway, shy girls always pissed me off. And I really tried not to think of how they were the ones who always got the guy, the ones who always stayed in gorgeous beautiful relationships and married amazing husbands who actually loved them. I wasn't destined for that, and I accepted it, no questions asked. It was common knowledge, I was a DuPont, I was probably going to marry a Kennedy or a Vanderbilt or whatever my dad not-so-discreetly approved of. He'd be a politician or a businessman who would cheat on me on his "business trips" and fuck his secretary behind my back. I would host lavish charities and parties and toast and smile and pretend that we loved each other and that we were perfect and that he didn't treat me like a piece of meat. I was over it, I knew, it was my mom had gotten a divorce, no one forgave her. She broke the rules.

I decided to leave. I didn't want to go to class, the bell had rung again and I was still walking aimlessly around the halls. No one would miss me, not here.

I quickly made my way through the candy-colored flyers and the smell of reheated pizza towards my crème colored Mercedes. It was ridiculous how easy you could leave campus here. I walked a little faster, my Chanel heels making too much noise on the wet asphalt.

I took a piece of hair out of my mouth before putting it behind my ear, quickly reaching towards my car door. I was stopped by an ivory hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving, and you're in my way. Move." I exhaled, crossing my arms against my chest.

He shook his bronze-colored hair, a pity, how darling it must look in the sunlight.

"You can't do that." He countered, mirroring my stance, his eyes the color of burnt honey.

"I can do whatever I want." I said, maybe a little too suggestively, moving closer to him. He grabbed my shoulders lightly.

"But you don't need to be truant." I let him hold me, holding back a smirk.

"You do it all the time." I pointed out.

"That's different." He didn't hesitate. As if realizing our position, he let go of my arms.

"I hate to bring things up again, but haven't I already asked why you care so much about my whereabouts?" I asked, looking at the back of my hand, my nail polish was chipping.

"I just don't want any trouble on Bella's part, she is responsible for you."

"Liiiaaar." I mocked, sing-songing. I dared to look at his dark eyes again, his cheekbones seemingly more pronounced, the water on the asphalt reflecting off his skin.

He shrugged, looking away. He knew I knew. What kind of excuse could he come up with? Why else would he be following me?

"I'm not following you." He said, angry now.

"Oh no, just knowing exactly where I am at all times and making sure you comment on them at least once a day. Because that's just not caring and not following at all." I said, my temper rising.

"Why do you have to get so angry over everything?" He bit out.

"Why are you always pretending?"

"What on Earth am I pretending about?"

"That you don't care about me!" I almost screamed, I couldn't make him see, couldn't he just see?

"You are impossibly vain."

"And you're too proud." I pointed out. His eyes started flashing again, his nostrils looked like they were flaring.

He let out a low growl, "Could you please just go back to class?"

I pushed past him, opening my car door and getting out of the cold.

"No, I can't, but you're welcome to do so at anytime. Unless you want to come with me, you know just to make sure I don't get hurt or anything." I waved my hand as if it didn't matter, as if I weren't begging him to get in the car.

He looked at me for a long while, leaning over the door, not letting me close it just yet. I held my breath, his body was inching closer, I could feel his sweater graze my clothes.

"I don't think so." He finally let out, removing himself with rapid speed, shutting the door a little too hard.

I shrugged, "suit yourself."

I skipped ballet even though I knew I would get an earful, I went to Seattle anyway and I turned the volume on my stereo to it's highest and drove as fast as I could before getting too scared. I sang at the top of my lungs and went shopping and bought some boots and jeans and I stayed in that stupid dressing room crying because I hated the way I looked in jeans, I bought them anyway. I got a huge cozy jacket that looked like one Edward had worn during the second week I had met him and put it on immediately. I grabbed a cup of black coffee from Starbucks and then went into Marc Jacobs, I got a dress that was so short I couldn't bend over without it showing half my ass, I didn't know what I would wear it for, but I bought it anyway. I don't remember how much money I spent, but it didn't really matter, it was my birthday after all.

I checked the time as I climbed in my car, school was almost out and I had two hours left to get home.

I turned the radio up again, I was getting sleepy. The coffee didn't work on me, apparently, and my vision was getting blurry. I remembered the way Edward had hated when I drove my car anywhere without him, I remembered how anxious his voice sounded when he told me to go back to class. My phone rang then..

EPOV

She picked up on the second ring as soon as I tried to calmly tell her to turn off her car, I was two minutes away from her, and she was ten seconds away from passing out.

She sounded sleepy, which was somewhat normal, Lia had horrible sleeping patterns, and hardly ate enough to survive. She protested at first; telling me I had no right to tell her what to do.

"Just pull over!" I finally growled, pushing my Volvo's pedal to it's limits, I had already contacted Carlisle, he was getting a bed ready.

Why couldn't she just have stayed in school? Didn't she grasp how dangerous her driving on her own was? Hadn't this already happened to her before?

I saw her car on the corner of the highway, her face's anger was masked by the horrible palor of her skin.

She angrily got out as I slammed my door shut,

"What the hell?" She protested as she stalked towards me, her hair blowing past her.

She didn't make it to me as she faltered, her heart slowing down, I ran to her side, catching her before she fell to the ground.

"This." I whispered.