A/N: Hey people! Thanks for all the reviews. We hit the 70 mark! Do you think we can reach 80 by the next chapter?

Summary: Isabella Swan is the person to go to about love – even though she has virtually no love life of her own…until a drunken blind date lands her married to the sexy Dr. Edward Masen.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any characters involved. However, certain characters are mine, as well as the plot line.

REMEMBER: Reviews are love!

I want to apologize for this chapter. As much as I hate stereotypes, Alice is a bit stereotypical. I despise stories that involve Alice playing Bella-Barbie every time they go out (no, she's not going to spend 8 hours fixing up Bella's hair to go to the ice cream parlor). Alice does not only shop when she goes out.

In this story, Alice is head strong, in a committed relationship, and is much too busy to go shopping every four seconds. However, I wanted to pull Alice in this chapter, because I have neglected her for the past few chapters. I managed to fit her in a scene with Bella, but unfortunately, it has a certain smudge of stereotypical mush to it.

Don't get me wrong – she isn't squealing like a child screaming "OMG SALES!" But she is a fashion designer, as already stated, and being a fashion designer, she does care a mighty bit about clothes. Namely, Bella's clothes. Don't worry, I'm not going to make Bella complain all day about shopping. I'm not going to describe everything they see. And it is not going to be redundant.

That little section will only be a few words, a few sentences. So please, bear with me. It isn't even very important. I just wanted to include Alice some how. This is Alice's moment to shine (though not for much; as said before, Rosalie will have a bigger part than Alice).

Basically, I'm apologizing because this chapter is depressingly redundant and stereotypical. I didn't mean for it to happen. And I'm afraid I will get loads of hate mail for it. So please. Forgive me.

I'm KSWIZZLED on Twitter.

KGRLZ99_USC(at)hotmail(dot)com on Facebook and for general messaging.

DOUBLELINGO on YouTube

Urban Decay

Chapter 8: A Mountain of Issues

B

There's that supposed spark within someone when they meet that one special person for the first time, often dubbed as "Love at first sight." Now, I wouldn't begin my little monologue with that if I didn't have something to say.

And here is what I have to say: anyone who believes in "Love at first sight" is either delusional or is desperate. Love at first sight does not, and I repeat, does not exist. How can you know just by a glance that you want to spend the rest of your life with that person? How do you know from that hint of a smile that you want to wake up next to him, for the rest of your life?

Imagine these two scenarios, and think of which one you would rather be in.

Scenario number 1: You're walking through the mall when you find the most attractive man you have ever seen. He has golden, disheveled hair with the tiniest bit of scruff on his face. He has striking navy-blue eyes and a sharp nose, with perfect lips the right shade of red and pink. He wore an outfit that screamed Armani which meant he was doing well for himself. He had this heartbreaking half-smile on his face.

Your eyes meet. His smile widens, and yours immediately brightens. Four months later, he proposes. Six months after that, you're walking down the aisle. Two weeks later, you're divorced.

What a happy ending, am I right?

Scenario number 2: You take classes at the local university. You're running late, so you choose to take a shortcut through the park. You're walking – rather fast – through the park, avoiding trees and random stumps in an effort to reach the university in time. You're making good progress when suddenly, out of no where, a football whacks you right on the side of your head, and you fall awkwardly to the ground.

You rub your ankle, and, squinting, you notice a figure running towards you. You see flashes of brown hair and a red shirt. He reaches you – and you immediately notice his obvious handsomeness. But you are blinded by your anger – you are officially late for your class.

He apologizes profusely, and offers to take you to lunch to make up for it. You figure you might as well meet him – it is a free meal, after all. When you reach your class, your teacher is furious and gives you a big, fat zero for the day. You spend the whole ride home – and the whole night – cursing the man you met at the park's name.

The next day, you grudgingly meet him at the restaurant. Once you get to know him better, your bitter anger fades, and you enjoy a meal with him – enjoyed it so much, that you choose to meet him once again.

Six months later, he proposes. The summer of the next year, you're married at sunset in a glass chapel in Bali. Two years later, you have your first child. Eighteen years later, you walk into your child's empty room for the first time since she left for college. Eight years later, you're in tears at her graduation. Five years later, you're walking your child down the aisle, beaming proudly through your tears at both your husband and your daughter.

Three years later, you're cradling your first grand child.

A much better ending, am I right?

All I'm saying is don't delude yourself in believing in first impressions. You might wind up marrying the person you never would have dreamed of marrying. You might end up divorced to the man of your dreams. Love is completely up to fate – and fate has a tendency to kick you in the crotch when you least expect it.

Which brings me to the next topic – how do you know when you're in love? Despite the number of relationships I have been in, I know that I have never been in love. Maybe a massive number of 'like' on the brink of love, but never love. I've never been with someone who I knew I wanted to spend my life with.

Jasper and Alice are in love. Rosalie and Emmett were in love.

There are people who say that they loved every single person they dated. If that were true, then why did they pick to break up or stay with certain people, if they loved all of them? Some people are just in love with love, and they go through their life, flying through one relationship to another, falling in love over and over again for the wrong reasons.

Which is perfectly fine of course, but you're placing your heart in your hand, and it's tipping precariously from your palm.

All I know is that I am not like that.

When I'm older, and my daughter asks me who my first love was…I don't want to have to pull out an old photo album and pick through the pictures. I want to be able to point across the room and say, "He's sitting right over there."

E

I sipped my iced tea, tapping my feet impatiently. Either he was late, or I was incredibly early, and I had a tendency of arriving thirty minutes after the meeting time. My eyes darted around the room, noting all the different colors of heads, but not once finding the one I was looking for.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and I grudgingly answered it. "Hello?"

"I apologize for being late." He replied, and I could hear the sound of the car doors slamming behind him. "I had an impromptu meeting with someone, and I couldn't leave. I'm here now."

A distinct ding from the bell attached to the door confirmed his statement. I snapped the phone shut and waved him over. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were tired, his faded eye bags beginning to grow more pronounced. His suit was creasing slightly, but it was still as flawless as it always was.

"Hello, cousin." He greeted, sitting down, and waving the waiter over. It was an attractive twenty-something year old woman with dark red hair. "Lime frost with a dash of lemon please." She nodded squarely and took her leave.

I sipped my drink. "It's been a while, Emmett."

"Indeed it has." His eyes were serious. "It's a shame that we should meet under these circumstances." I nodded. "Seems like you've gotten yourself into quite the situation."

"I know." I sighed. "But I don't think it's as bad as you think."

"Explain." He commanded.

I winced. This was the exact reason why I didn't go out to lunch with him more often – it was impossible to have a normal conversation with him. He would immediately take control of the topic, as if we were in a court room or in the conference room instead of sipping iced drinks in a bistro. I had to match his tone, and his carefully chosen words if I wanted to have some say in our conversation. "Bella and I are handling this situation much better than what you may have guessed."

"So I have heard." He replied, accepting his drink from the waiter. He sipped it before continuing. "But it's a situation all the same. I'm assuming the press has already been notified."

I nodded. "They have been harassing Bella's publicist, Jacob Black, for days now. I accompanied her to the opening of her perfume and clothing line two days ago, as a way to confirm the rumors and convince the press that this marriage was not just over a bottle of vodka."

"I didn't know about that." He said, somberly, but I could hear the distaste in his words. He disliked being the last to know. "What happened during the event?"

"We were approached by a number of reporters. We took dozens of photos – but that's mandatory I guess." I replied, taking another sip.

"Did these supposed reporters ask any questions?"

"Obviously." He raised an eyebrow at my tone. "But the questions were generalized questions, nothing too personal."

"So, if I were to turn on E! Entertainment or another one of those cloned TV shows, I won't encounter videos of you confessing the various lies you have set up for your marriage?"

I winced. "Nothing too descriptive."

"Stupid cousin," he muttered. "Whether you choose to believe me or not, every thing you say to one of those wretched reporters is magnified tenfold once they hit the air. It's best for you to let Bella handle all this."

"But wouldn't it be more realistic for me to have a say in things?" I protested.

"Not if you're going to screw it all up." He said, soberly.

I glared. "I'm not going to screw anything up. I have never screwed anything up in my life."

"Are you sure?" He chuckled "If I remember correctly, that relationship you had with that girl – Tanya, I believe – went to hell because of the way you both screwed up." He took a large gulp of his drink, his eyes dancing humorously.

My glare tightened. "That isn't any of your business, Emmett. It'd be best if you didn't stick your head into things that don't concern you."

"And let's not forget the latest problem we face because of your mistakes." He continued, his words holding a taunting edge. "You should probably think twice before you say you haven't screwed up."

"You're one to talk." I retorted, sarcastically.

His eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

"Perhaps I did mess up with Tanya, and I may have made a mistake with Bella, but none of that even compares to how you screwed up your relationship with Rosalie."

"That is none of your concern." He glared.

"Isn't it?" I sipped my drink casually. "If I remember correctly, Rosalie is Bella's best friend, isn't she? And being my cousin, you're forced to interact with Rosalie more than you'd like. I'm fairly certain you can't stay in the same room without wanting to throw her into a wall."

"If you knew what was best for you, you would drop this subject now."

"She left you five years ago and you still haven't gotten over it." I replied. "Before you accuse me of making mistakes, why not look at yourself and watch as your mountain of mistakes grows larger and larger every time you see her."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Edward." He replied, sipping his drink. He was grasping his drink so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

"Don't I?" I answered. "I'm your cousin, Emmett. I'm not a sponsor you're trying to persuade, and I'm not a client you're trying to delude into supporting you. We're blood relatives. Don't talk to me like I owe something to you, because I don't. As unfortunately corny as it may sound, we are family, whether you like it or not."

"I know that, cousin."

"Then don't pretend like you and Rosalie are just fine." I said. "I know you aren't, and I know on some level, you know you aren't either. Something between you two hasn't completely died yet, and unless you're willing to stop and try to pick up the pieces, they will be gone, and your chances with her will have disappeared."

"What if I didn't want those chances to be there in the first place?"

"But you do." I replied. "Look, Emmett. I've known you all my life, and I know the difference between how you were five years ago and how you are now. You were much happier back then, albeit less successful. But haven't you ever wished to go back the way it used to be?"

"Yes." He said simply.

"Then what's stopping you?"

"You don't understand, Edward." He sighed. "Things are more complicated than you think. I'm five years older, five years more mature than when I saw her last. We have both grown from our time away from each other, and I know that I'm not the same as I was before. Who's to say that she's going to want to be with me after seeing me for who I am now?"

"But you're still you." I argued. "She fell in love with you. Honestly, I don't think people can change. You are who you are at the end of the day, and that's probably who you've always been."

"I feel like such a prat for discussing my problems when your problem is obviously more dire."

"Maybe mine aren't as bad as you think."

"Explain."

"Bella…well, I don't know what it is about her, but I'm comfortable about her." I admitted, softly. "To be completely honest, she's not like all the rest."

"What are you saying, Edward? Do you have feelings for her?"

"No." I said automatically. "Maybe. I don't think so. I guess I'm just intrigued by her."

He shook his head. "You're attracted to her. Is she pretty?"

"Gorgeous." I murmured.

"Does she have a good personality?"

"She's one of the most genuinely kind and challenging people I know."

"Do you have a good time together?"

"Always." I said, honestly.

"If she's really as fantastic as you say she is, then you probably have some sort of feelings – above mere platonic feelings – for her, even if they may not be at all developed."

I sighed. For the past few days, I've been having trouble remembering the fact that our marriage wasn't supposed to happen, and was going to end in three months. It just felt so comfortable, that it was easy to forget it wasn't real.

"However." He continued. "You must ignore these supposed feelings you may have towards her. You do not want to screw this up any further. She's probably not in the same place as you are – you are more of an obstacle that stands in her way of her dream than a friend. A burden she needs to bear. A bad business transaction. Do not let yourself develop these feelings, or you will ruin her career."

I groaned. "You're right. I'll shut whatever feelings I may have away, and I won't look back. Thank you, Emmett."

"Don't mention it." His eyes were serious. "Ever."

I chuckled nervously. "I won't."

He checked his watch. "Anyway, you must leave." His tone had no humor in it.

"What?"

"You must leave." He repeated. He glanced at the wall clock.

"Why?"I asked, bewildered. We'd only been talking for about an hour.

"I'm meeting someone at two." He replied. "And it's two."

"And, that has to do with me leaving…how?"

"We're meeting here."

"What's the meeting about?"

"The situation you and Bella are in at the present."

"Then wouldn't it be better if I attended this meeting as well? You're meeting here. It can't be an official meeting."

He pursed his lips. "As tempting as that…doesn't sound, this is a meeting I must attend alone."

I sighed. "Fine. I'll leave." I plucked my phone off of the table. I smiled briefly at him. "It was nice seeing you again."

"Likewise." He said simply. His eyes darted to the door quickly. He frowned. "We'll schedule another time to discuss our – er – problems."

"That would be good." I nodded, before turning to leave to the door.

I noticed the outline of a person through the translucent material of the door and, being the gentleman that I am, held the door open for said person. Turning to leave the restaurant myself, I heard a sudden, "Thank you."

I turned around again, and smirked, "Don't mention it."

She smiled briefly back, before blinking. Her eyebrows shot up. After a few seconds, I understood too. Now I knew why Emmett wanted me to leave.

"Good afternoon, Edward. Funny seeing you here."

"I could say the same thing." I chuckled. "It's good to see you, Rosalie."

R

I arrived at the bistro with a pleasant surprise – Bella's impromptu husband, Edward Masen. He was here talking to Emmett, no doubt. Our meeting had been scheduled a while ago, but due to some sudden changes in plans from both parties, we rescheduled it to today.

I mingled with Edward a bit before turning my gaze to the crowd of tables in front of me. I searched the crowd for that wretched mess of curly brown hair. And I found it. He was sitting near the center of the restaurant, twirling his straw in his drink. I chuckled despite myself. He looked like a child, looking for a way to entertain himself while the adults chatted with each other.

Walking towards him, I side stepped the various tables in my way. When I was only a few seconds away from him, he looked up and immediately straightened up, getting up to his feet. He offered me his hand and I shook it briefly, before sitting on the chair across from him.

"Emmett." I greeted.

"Rosalie." He said, with the exact same tone. "Would you like a drink – and a light snack, perhaps?"

"That would be good." I allowed.

He waved the waitress over, and ordered another glass of that green diarrhea in a cup that he was drinking – god knows why anyone would order that – and looked at me expectedly.

"Dr. Pepper on the rocks – er – with ice." I ordered. "And a club sandwich." The waiter smiled before returning to the counter.

"I see you still like Dr. Pepper." He commented casually.

"I couldn't kick the habit." I confessed.

He chuckled. "I didn't think you would."

"Anyway," I changed the subject, awkwardly. "I guess you spoke to Edward?"

The waiter returned with our drinks. I grabbed mine eagerly, and swallowed a long gulp of it.

"As a matter of fact, I did."

"How's he doing? I mean, I know Bella's side of the story, but I don't know about his."

"He's alright. He said they're doing much better than we might have thought."

"Yeah, that's what she said too."

"Although there was more to our conversation." He said, sipping his drink.

"Do elaborate."

"To be completely honest, I'm not sure if he would appreciate me discussing it with you."

I nodded, understanding. "Tell it to me in confidence. I won't tell anyone."

"I don't know, Rose." I don't think he realized he called me Rose. "It's a rather private discussion."

Using my long eyelashes to my advantage, I used my eyes to persuade him to tell me. "Please?"

He sighed heavily. "Fine." He broke eye contact, and I had a silent victory dance. "He's developing feelings for Bella."

"You're kidding!" My mouth flew to my lips.

"I wish." He sighed. "This complicates things."

"Why would that complicate things?" I asked. "Bella might develop feelings for him – hell, she might already have them at the pace they're going. They get along incredibly well."

"I noticed." He chuckled at my sudden excitement. "But so what if they feel the same way?"

"Then we wouldn't need to worry about coming up with a story for their divorce." I answered. "We could convince everyone that this marriage is 100% true from start to finish."

"That would be ideal." He said, slowly.

I bit my lip. "Would it be too much for me to ask you for some help?"

I could see a silent battle in his eyes. "It depends on what you are asking of me."

"Well, if they were to develop strong, genuine feelings for each other, then we wouldn't need to worry about cleaning up the mess of the divorce. It would cut off our interaction – as well as the stress we will need to endure due to their problem."

"True."

"So, I was wondering if you would assist me in my efforts to…how do I put this in a way that doesn't sound too 'high school'? Okay. Do you want to help me prove to them that this marriage isn't such a bad idea? Help develop their feelings – that Edward evidently already has, and Bella either has as well, or, in the very least, are bubbling under."

He thought for a second. "If you really believe that it'll make the solution to this problem quicker and more painless."

"I really and truly do." I said, seriously. It was a brilliant idea.

He sighed. "Sure, you have my help. I hope you don't do anything to irrational. I hope you think your methods through."

I smiled wickedly. "Have I ever been the type of girl who thought things through?"

A smirk immediately played on his lips. His eyes flashed. "Never."

B

Alice was taking me through the various stores at the mall. Due to my new relationship status, she reasoned, I needed to adjust my wardrobe and my overall appearance. I was no longer a woman in waiting. I was a married woman.

Yeah. A married woman who barely knew the person she was married to!

"Now, I've been watching your fashion style evolve over the years – and let me tell you, it has barely evolved at all – and I've noted the fashion faux pas you have committed and the brilliant outfits you have chosen without outside help – namely, me." She grinned. "From what I've seen, I have sort of drawn out some ideas of what you might look good in."

"Okay." I said cautiously. "What might those include?"

"Well, you have the idyllic shoulders for halter tops and strapless dresses." She replied. "You can pull off spaghetti straps, but they need to be thick and textured for them to really look good on you. You look better in warm colors than in cold colors – although, there is a certain shade of blue and violet that looks fabulous with your skin tone."

I loved Alice, but she could really be quite the stalker sometimes!

"There are number of stores here that have what we're looking for." She said. "I know your exact measurements – or at least, the measurements of when I designed that dress for your event, that is – and I've already pre-ordered some dresses and tops for you. "

"That's – er – very nice of you, Alice." I replied. "But I think my new relationship status doesn't affect my sense of fashion."

"Or lack thereof." She sighed. "I'm guessing I'm not making headway with you?"

"Nope."

"Damn. I thought the stress from this marriage would bring down your spirits enough to break your stone-cold wall of defiance."

I smiled. "Nothing can break me down." I waved her off, giggling. "Is it okay if we take a rain check on this shopping trip? I need to check with Jacob with a few things. Plus, I need to get home and fix up the mountains of documents I have concerning my endorsements and sponsorships."

Alice frowned. "You would think after this mess of a marriage you would lay low for a while."

"I don't think I know how." I confessed. "I'd rather be working and working instead of lounging around waiting for this to blow over."

She shook her head. "Do you want me to accompany you home? I'm pretty good with sealing endorsements and sponsorships – god only knows how many times I did that to take my fashion line off the ground."

"That'd be great, thanks."

She beamed. "It'd be my pleasure. It's always funny to watch you become more frazzled by the minute."

"That's sweet." I said, sarcastically.

"That's what I'm here for." She smiled cheekily.

After a long ride home – stupid New York traffic – filled with listening to Alice lecture me on the dos and don'ts, we were finally at my apartment. I shaded my eyes with my hand, and squinted towards the building.

We walked into the lobby and rode the elevator up to the penthouse. Alice immediately made her self comfortable on the couch, and I went to the kitchen to grab us some Dr. Peppers. We clinked our cans before taking a hefty slurp – so unladylike.

Alice looked around. "Where are your documents?"

"In the study," I nodded towards the room near the master bed room. I shuffled towards the study, grimacing at the load of papers on the table.

"Wow." Alice blinked. "That's more than I thought."

"This is a big sponsorship. The largest we've ever been offered."

"If it's being offered, then why are you in such a frenzy?"

"We're seeing if we can negotiate some more money out of them. I don't mean to sound greedy, but the more money we have, the better. Plus, we'd like to get the show to more viewers. It attracts women, for the most part, but we want to reach out to more men."

"That's probably smart." She commented, sipping her drink. "How are we going to do that?"

"I'm pretty persuasive." I smiled. "But it'd be great if you could meddle and get my stakes up higher."

"I'll be sure to do that." She grinned cheekily. "Now, paperwork?"

I nodded. "Paperwork."

We sorted through the papers, putting them into piles. One pile was for signed contracts, the other pile was for documents that needed the signing, and the last pile were the papers that were of utmost importance (which I kept in the first drawer to the right, locked). I signed all the papers needed to be signed, making sure to highlight the spot where Jacob would need to sign later.

After an hour or two of completing half of the paperwork, we decided we needed to get out of the apartment. We were beginning to see blotches of ink everywhere, and, to be frank, we were exhausted. Constantly signing and organizing papers takes a lot out of you!

"Where do you want to go?"

I checked my watch. "It's four. Do you want to get a snack some place? Or watch a movie or something?"

"I think we – or you – should lay low. Let's not watch a movie. A snack sounds terrific." She grabbed her purse, and I plucked mine off the counter. "Who's driving?"

I threw her my keys. "You take it. I'm exhausted."

She nodded, and we made our way to the lobby. The sun was still high in the sky, and I grimaced. It could be incredibly cold in the morning, but usually around this time, it was uncomfortably hot.

"I hate the heat." I commented, dryly.

"You can say that again." We pushed through the revolving door. "I think that we should –"

Once we left the building, we were immediately assaulted by a tirade of paparazzi with professional cameras in their hands. Blinding flashes came from every direction.

I muttered to Alice, "What could they possibly want? It's not like I'm wearing something revealing or anything!"

"Bella!" A hoarse voice from the back of the crowd screeched. "Bella!"

"Alice, let's go." I whispered, and I pulled her towards where our car was parked. Grasping the handle, I pulled the door open and Alice slid inside.

"Bella!" The hoarse voice called again. "Joshua Banks from Entertainment Tonight! Why are you coming out of your apartment? Did you and your supposed husband break up? Is that why you're living alone again?"

I slammed the door shut, and Alice peeled out of where we were parked, racing down the road, away from the hoard of cameras.

That was when his words hit me.

"Oh no." I groaned, putting on my seat belt.

"What? Aren't you used to all the attention?"

"Yeah…but, didn't you hear what that man – Joshua – said?"

"No, I was to busy getting us the hell out of there." She chuckled. "What did he say?"

"Did you and your husband break up? Why are you living alone?" I mimicked.

"And…?"

"Alice…" My eyes burned. "Think about it for a second."

Of all things that could have happened to me! Why did the press have to be so detail oriented? Why couldn't they take things for what they were? I was in enough trouble already!

Alice gasped. "You don't think that you'll have to –"

I sighed heavily, clearly defeated. "I think I do." I exhaled. "I'm going to have to move in with Edward Masen."

E

"What brings you to my home, Bella?" I asked, watching her carefully. She was looking at me wearily, a defeated frown on her face. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

"I was so sure that I had everything planned out right. I made the right calls to the right people, I did all my paperwork, hell, we even lied to the press and got away with it." She blurted out, and I wasn't even sure if she was speaking to me. It felt like she was talking more to herself.

"Okay…" I moved towards her, sitting down on the seat next to her. "Do you want to explain why you're in such a frazzled state?"

She straightened up. "You know how I'm constantly bombarded by the press, right? How I can't turn a corner without having a picture taken from someone I don't know?"

"I know." I said dryly. I didn't want to have to walk down another red carpet with her on my arm – I lost a lot of my sight from it.

"Well, I was leaving my apartment this afternoon with Alice, and I was immediately assaulted by a group of them."

"Isn't that normal?"

"At first, yeah. But then they said something….something that irked me."

"You didn't assault him did you?" I grinned at the image.

"No, of course not. I have more class than that." She waved me off. "But I'm sure that by tomorrow, there will be rumors and headlines about how you and I broke up."

"What?" I blinked. "You told them we separated?"

"No, but they saw me walking out of my apartment." I confessed. "I mean, that's pretty damning evidence. Here I am, married to a successful doctor with an apartment just as nice as mine, and I choose to live alone? No one's going to buy that. There's only one way to prove them wrong."

I swallowed, hard. Was she implying what I think she was implying…?

"I have enough on my plate. I can't handle any more pressure from the media. Once this endorsement falls through, I won't be such a burden to you. I'll be out of your life, out of your hair for good. I'll pay you back for all that you've done for me." She said, seriously. "If we're going to make our marriage look real, we can't just go to social events together. We have to act like a real couple." I could feel her heart quicken. I could hear her breathe hard.

I swallowed, blinking. I opened my mouth to say something, to come up with a different plan, when she voiced the only the thing she knew we could do.

"Edward, can I move in with you?"

A/N: LAWL, hm. Who wears the pants in that family?

Am I forgiven? If possible, review. If not, that's fine too.

-Kim

Number of Pages: 16

Number of Words: 6, 530

Completed: Yes

Edited: No

Review Responses

Frankfart101: I'm thinking of a way to respond to that…wait…it's on the tip of my tongue…its RIGHT there…OMG. PAPAYANY!!!! Get it? I put like, a 'ny' after papaya. Like you did with peachy….er….yeah. I have way too much free time. Somebody help me please! Save me! Yup. I think I'm pregnant. I suffer from way too many mood swings!

Race for the clock tower: Hahahaha! I'm glad you liked it. It's okay. Technology is retarded sometimes. I mean, just today, I was turning on my DVD player and it said HELLO to me. I was like "WTF GET AWAY FROM ME!! AHHH!!!" And then I realized its supposed to do that….I really thought that Transformers was happening in real life! As tempting as making her pregnant sounds, I don't think I'll be adding that to this story…mostly because I suck at writing about babies. It's like kryptonite for me. I MUST stay away from it if I want to live! Muahahha!

Confused55: HELLO THERE! I looove making new words and using them on ignorant people. It like, annoys them so much. It's hilarious. I'll like jump on the table and scream random words and they'll be like "WTF? Is Kim high again? Did someone spike her drink? Siiigh…" I updated sooner just for you =D! Love ya!

Lovedforeternity: I'm hoping it won't hurt too bad. I'd hate to be the person to cause them pain (I'm worried about fictional characters that I'm writing about…reaaaaal smooth Kim). I'm glad that you thought it was sweet. Haha, tell your teachers to thank me! I'm making their students want to read more! Wahoo!

BOBLOVER007: Aw, well it saddens me to know that there are many stories like this, but I'm elated to know that you think this one is the best. You have absolutely no idea how much that means to me. Thanks for all the compliments! I could glomp you right now (That's a really crushing hug, by the way. 'glomp') All the little details are what I like about this story, and I'm so happy that you noticed them. I love writing Bella's speech (I like to refer to them as her 'inner monologue') because they're always certain things that I'm thinking about as I write them. They almost never have to do with the story.

Angel2057 That was, by far, my favorite part of the chapter. I loved writing it. Now, I'm practically begging my nonexistent future fiancé to find this story someday, and follow it. Thanks =D I'm glad you think so.

Lil miss bella cullen: I LOVE how you emphasized amazing. I think you're TER-I-FIC. (Lol, fail. I can't emphasize properly). I know right? I totally hope the man of my dreams proposes to me like that. When you get into an uber serious relationship, tell him to give me a call and I'll like, school him. I'll TELL him how to do it correctly. Hahaha! THEN I'D BETTER BE INVITED TO YOUR WEDDING WOMAN!

Sprinter1: Oh, thank you oh so very much. That was my favorite part as well! Wouldn't it be terrific if that happened in real life? How incredible must he be! Haha. Edward being nervous. Who would have guessed =)

Calico Rayne: I like writing them the way they are. I'd hate to be one of those authors who write these one night stands, and suddenly, BAMF they don't get along and they want to claw each others eyes out. Sure, that might be a little more fun to write, but at least this way, we don't' have to WAIT for the fluff. Because honestly, fluff is the best part of any story. I'm glad that you like the beginnings! It's a take on the Ugly Truth ahaha, but not nearly as good. Gerard Butler is awesome in that movie and I hate freeloading off its theme, but I love writing advice about love and this is the way I do it. I'm having a lovely vacation! Thank goodness my school comes up with these random holidays. A WEEK OFF BABY! Yup. I'm happy. I just ate a greatttt dinner. Yummy!

Alice Maximum Redbird: Hahaha, I can't make them fall in love yet. It's only been like….9 days or so (the timeline is so whacked out). Haha. But Eddie's beginning to develop some sort of feelings for her, even if its more platonic than anything. I mean, I don't want Bella to be the one craving for him. She's too headstrong for that.

Medea Ariadne DeMarchi: Thank you! I'm updating! How would you like to be proposed to? I told my mom about this flower scenario thing, and how it would be awesome for someone to propose to me like that…and she immediately thought I was watching too much TV or something. Apparently, that never happens in real life. AND, she said I'm only 14 years old and I shouldn't be thinking about stuff like that. It was a very…weird…conversation…

Q'uest: Oh my god, I could kiss you. I'm not even kidding. You nominated it? Oh my god! I'VE NEVER BEEN NOMINATED FOR ANYTHING. AHHH! I'm practically going to faint. I'm fairly certain that I won't get into the top 10 nominations, but just the fact that someone nominated me – even if it is only one person – is enough to make me faint. Thank you so much! Gah. OH MY GOD. I WAS NOMINATED FOR A MYSTIC AWARD. Okay. I want to cry now. Thank you so much! Ah! You're officially my third in command of campaigning. All the best to you!

Emilio Vasquez de Souza: Oh my gosh! I can actually speak French too! Bonjour, monsieur. Merci beaucoup! Tu ne sais pas combien ce signifie a moi. J'aime que vous l'aimiez. Quoiqu'il n'a pas beaucoup de revues, je suis heureux que les gens comme lui et lis toujours. Merci de vos compliments et de votre revue !!!!!

Chloe : You did too ? I could kiss you! Thank you so much !!!!