A/N: Ok, so here's the downside of one pov: I can't exactly show you what's really going on over at the Cullen camp… but I'll let you guys guess until such a time where they explain, just know it's not a happy place right now… and I promise the next chapter will have some answers…Read. Enjoy. Review…

Trip Around the Sun

Chapter Eight: "Sick"

"Bells?" Charlie called from the hallway the next morning, I had gone straight to bed when I had gotten home, "C'mon, you have school."

Though, that did not necessarily meant I fell straight to sleep, I was up until at least three that morning. I groaned and rolled over, Alice and Jasper would be there. I wondered if Carlisle had told them what had happened, he wouldn't. Would he though? He had seemed really pissed off, what had I done so wrong? He had kissed me back, it wasn't like I had imagined that part right? No, he had defiantly, and he had left those little kisses on my neck.

"I'm not feeling so good," I said and Charlie sighed as I rolled my eyes at the ceiling, "I think I'm going to stay home today if that's ok."

There was no way I was going to school today. I was not going to allow the possibility of getting to school and having Alice and Jasper knowing. Even if they didn't know their eyes, though they were adopted, were almost exactly the same as Carlisle and that would make things impossible, considering I sat next to one of them in every class, well minus last period.

"Ok," said Charlie, "You sure, Bells?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound a little weak.

"Ok," He said, "I'll be at work until seven, call me if you need anything, ok Bella?"

"Sure," I said, I listened to him get ready downstairs and leave before I looked back up at the ceiling.

What the heck was I even thinking? I'm seventeen, he's what? Thirty? Seriously? I hadn't even known how much older he was? He must be around his thirties at least, med school, then fostering two kids my age, when they were fourteen, so maybe even older than that. Gah! What the hell was wrong with me? Why didn't he want me, why had his eyes lied to me?

I laid in bed all day, not eating, just kicking myself over and over again about how stupid I had been. I wanted to curl up and die, for the millionth time this week, and I wasn't too far from it. I was cuddled down in my bedcovers and had my arms around my pillow. My face stuck a little to the pillow case where my tears had soaked it last night. Maybe I hadn't exactly lied to Charlie, I was sick, just not the way that he thought.

I didn't get it, I shouldn't be this upset over it. I knew it was never going to happen, I knew it would have just been a crush, though here I was. I was crying into my pillow over the sweetest guy that I would never have, and only because I was born a few years too late for him. I didn't want to go back to sleep, I would only dream of him, and that would just make it worse for me.

The pain was intense, and I wasn't sure that it was humanly possible to deal with it. I felt as if there would have been less pain involved if he had simply run me over with an eighteen-wheeler. It sure as hell would have been more humane. Why was I in so much pain, it wasn't like I had liked him for long, it had only been a week.

When had I morphed into this pathetic person? I was sickened as it reminded of me of the way Mom's friends always got when their boyfriends broke up with them. They always crashed for a few days crying on our couch, and I always had pitied them. I always thought they were so pathetic, the fact that they cheated, or walked out meant that they weren't worth it. I definitely shouldn't be this upset over… him.

I slipped back to sleep and woke myself up several times, saving myself the pain of continuing the dream and having to wake up. It was about the fifth time that I had been woke up from a dream like that when I heard a knock on the door.

"Bella?" called a friendly voice, "It's Alice, can I come in?"

"Sure," I mumbled, "I'm a little sick."

"it's ok, I have a healthy immune system," Alice said, as she walked in, carrying a thermos, "I figured you were sick. I brought you soup."

"Thanks," I said as she set it down on my bedside table.

"It's chicken noodle," said Alice as she took crackers and a spoon out of her pocket, "I can't stay long, I got to get home."

"Why?" I asked curiously and she sighed heavily.

"Because I snuck over here," said Alice, "I'm grounded, so is Jasper, he was in more trouble so he figured he'd stay home and cover if dad got home and I wasn't home yet."

"What did you two do? And how long are you two grounded?"

"Nothing, just something dad never really said we couldn't do, but never expected us to do," said Alice, "And we didn't do it either. Dad's just too busy and won't listen. I don't think he wants to listen, he hasn't come out of his study, other than to ground us, since you left. Well, luckily he did go to work today. He didn't say how long, but probably at least until we're twenty."

"Mmm," I said, picturing him in his study made my heart ache even more, really what the hell?, but I had to know, "Is he ok?"

"Wouldn't know, I'm not speaking to him," said Alice pointedly, "Neither is Jasper, he's being an ass. He won't even consider that we might be telling the truth. I think he's too afraid of what that would mean."

"Oh," I said, not having a clue what she meant by anything that had just come out of her mouth.

"You look like crap," she said truthfully and I nodded.

"I feel like crap," I said and she nodded.

"Just what I expected," she said, though I don't think it had much to do with what I had just said, she seemed to be gazing off a little, "It'll get better…I think."

"It's just a cold," I said, wondering what she was getting at, it was nothing for her to get worked up about it was just a fake cold, "I'll probably be back in school tomorrow."

"Good," she said with a smile, and I reached down into my bag for Carlisle's book.

"Here," I said handing it to her, "Give it back to your dad?"

"No, you keep it," said Alice, handing it back, "I'm not talking to him, remember? Anyways, I'm not supposed to be here. Just give it to him next time you see him. Bye, Bella."

"Bye," I said, letting the book drop to the floor.

I had really wanted Alice to take it, and that was the point. I really had no intentions of seeing Carlisle ever again, I couldn't even imagine how painful it would be to see him in person. He had hurt me, and I was a sucker. I was licking my wounds that I knew wouldn't ever heal. He was just imbedded so far into me that he may even have been in my soul. It felt like he had already made his way into almost everything about me, it would make sense if I had placed him there. That at least would explain the pain of it all.

I heard Charlie get home around seven and I grabbed Alice's thermos to go down and eat at the table with him. I needed some sort of human interaction, and Charlie was perfect for right now. He wasn't talkative, he would just sit and eat with me, not reading too far into my emotions. I would have been in trouble if I was still living with mom, then again I wouldn't have even met him. That thought had even worse effects of my current state, even if I had known, I knew that I still would have come. So I was sick, mentally at least.

"Hey, Bells, you feeling better?" Charlie asked as he walked into the kitchen where I was sitting eating my soup.

"Eh," I said, the secret to faking sick was to make sure you didn't have a miraculous recovery.

"Well, if you don't feel better in the morning, I'll bring you over to Dr. Cullen," said Charlie passively as he opened the door to the fridge and I instantly knew I would feel better.

"I'll be fine by the morning, dad," I said, "I don't think the pizza at the Cullens' yesterday agreed with me."

"Alright," said Charlie as he sat down across from me with a beer, "Where'd you find the soup?"

"Alice brought it over," I said, knowing that Charlie would most likely not speak to Carlisle anytime soon.

"That was nice of her," said Charlie and I nodded.

I was, as predicted, able to finish my soup in silence, where the biggest noise was coming from Charlie slurping occasionally. I ate the last spoonful of chicken and noodles before I got up and put the thermos into the dishwasher. I would get it in the morning and bring it to Alice at school. I then dismissed myself, and went back up to bed.

I took a quick shower so, barring any racy dreams, I wouldn't have to get up early and shower the next day. I then got into clean pajamas and hopped back into bed. I shut my eyes, expecting to go back to sleep. Then remembering that I had slept the majority of the day, I realized I wasn't remotely tired, and started staring up at the ceiling.

I was hit by a mental picture a a few minutes after I laid down, it was the one of Carlisle leaning against the counter in the kitchen from Saturday morning. I was full of love for him, and I knew it was crazy, but there it was. There was pain, sure, but the love present was in infinitely larger levels. I shouldn't feel like this, I should hate him, and everything about him, but I couldn't.

It didn't matter that he had hurt me so badly, and that he had been the cause of all this pain. I still was just as hopelessly in love with him as when we were sitting in the kitchen Friday night. I worried about him, and I worried that I was crazy. Only one major question about the whole thing was still in my mind: Why had he bothered kissing me back if he didn't want it to happen?

I closed my eyes again and tried to find a way back to sleep. It was my refuge, and I was going to cling to my dreams tonight. No matter how bad it would hurt in the morning, I wanted them tonight, I wanted to see his face. I guess that was what love was, the gradual, or not so gradual loss of your mind.

It had happened fast, but here I was, in love with him. Him, Carlisle, a man that clearly would never love me back, and one that clearly didn't want me to want him in the first place. I was stuck in the limbo of not being wanted, and it sucked.