If it tastes good, it's trying to kill you

-Anorexic quote

A few plans of action ran through Rosalie's mind when she saw the evidance right out in front of her. Her mother had not appeared in the doorway, so Rosalie had a few minutes to think before the rampage started. She considered just fessing up and letting fate take its course for one crazy second. She thought she could lie her way out of this, but she had no idea how she would be able to do that, there was her toothbrush, covered in blood, right on the table! Rosalie's fight or flight instinct came in, and she wondered how far away she would be able to run before she was caught and brought back here by an even more enraged mother. However, before she could pick her fate and act on it, Rosalie's mother stood before her.

At fifty, her mother wasn't young any more, but Rosalie's mother took care of herself in the little time she had. Her blond hair, which was exactly like Rosalie's, was kept dyed the same even whitish color as Rosalie's, and she made sure that she didn't gain any extra weight and stayed in shape. She wasn't as extreme as Rosalie, but she did a good job for some one who was content to be normal their entire lives.

Rosalie took a deep breath, and waited for the yelling to start. She was going to have to go into treatment, and she wouldn't come out for months. Rosalie had heard all the stories, it took months and months, and you never came out totally fixed... just... repressed. Rosalie didn't want to give up her feelings, it would be even worse than brainwashing her! Rosalie wanted to cry, but she was determined to keep a straight face. She had to stay strong.

"Honestly, Rosalie." Her mother said, sounding like she wasn't very shocked at all to have this news thrown out to her; like she had expected it the whole time. "I don't have time for this, make sure it never happens again, do you hear me?"

Rosalie was shocked. That was all? No yelling? She didn't even sound mad! Did she even care? Rosalie doubted it.

"Do you want to die?" Her mother went on to ask, sounding like they were discussing the weather and not Rosalie's bulimia. It made Rosalie mad! Couldn't she even pretend to care? Deep down, she was happy she was so... casual about it, like her daughters' eating disorder was more like a bill, some thing unpleasant but expected, some thing a part of every day life that could not be thrown away, but it was the way she asked Rosalie if she wanted to die or not that got her! Mrs. Hale acted as though Rosalie's life was some thing she didn't even care about. Like she didn't give a damn weather she lived or died.

Rosalie didn't know what to say. She had lost her voice, become a mute. She wanted to yell at her mother, and at the same time, hug her for not doing any thing Rosalie would hate her for. She couldn't speak the words she wanted to, because she did not know what she wanted to say.

Rosalie just shook her head, no, she did not want to die. She would humor her mother and answer, even though Rosalie had been through enough things close enough like this - halfhearted attempts to help her - to be immune to guilt trips. Been there, done that. The simple phrase was almost the very meaning of her life. Four words summed up sixteen years so wonderfully, so effortlessly.

"Then cut it out, Rose." Mrs. Hale huffed, then went off to some other part of the house. So she didn't strangle her daughter? Maybe.

Rosalie wanted to laugh at her. Forced into action only when she had to, and even then, her attempts were pathetic. Did she really think Rosalie would stop just because she asked her to? Was her mother that much of an idiot? Did her mother think that - should she pretend that Rosalie didn't have an eating disorder - she could make it so?

Deep down, Rosalie wondered if her mother was okay with it, simply because she would rather have a skinny daughter than a fat one. Had she thought some thing could be up many years ago, but chose not to act on them for that very reason? Had she fought a war in her mind, and picked anorexic daughter over binge eating daughter? Pathetic.

Just then, reality set in. Rosalie was in the clear! She wasn't going to be sent to some hospital full of other anorexic and bulimic girls who were just as miserable as she was. She could call Emmett.

She took out her phone and dialed his number, surprised that she knew it by heart already. Some how, that fact made her happy, like it was proof that she cared about this goof that had his own part in the toothbrush ending up in her hallway. Disgusted, Rosalie picked it up and carried it to the dumpster outside. May she never see it again, if there was a God in the sky.

Emmett answered his phone after the fourth ring, when Rosalie was starting to admit he would not answer, and she had started to plan what she would say on the voice mail to him, should she leave one and not just snap the phone shut. A silent tribute to not having any thing to say.

"What's up?" He asked, "Why was your mom home?"

"What do you want me to answer first? What's up, or why was my mom home?" Rosalie asked, a grin spreading on her face. "Nothings up, my mom just got off early." She lied. No way in hell she was going to tell him what just went down in the Hale household.

"Is that... normal? You sounded kinda freaked back in the car." Emmett pointed out. Rosalie knew he was telling the truth, so she couldn't get mad at him for it, but she had to lie fast to save her skin.

"No, not really, but what is normal, after all?" Rosalie said with a small laugh. Emmett did not laugh back. You're blowing it girl! Rosalie yelled at herself. Emmett could suspect nothing, as far as he knew, she had scared herself too much to ever throw up again, and he didn't even know about the anorexic part. She just had to keep her cool and act natural.

"So... umm..." Emmett said, sounding uncomfortable, "you know there's a dance at school?"

"You're asking me?" Rosalie asked, not all that shocked after the little chat they had recently had.

"Well, yeah." he said, in a voice that made Rosalie's heart stop.

"There'd better be flowers." Rosalie giggled, trying to sound dead serious.

"Red or white roses?" Emmett asked, a laugh peeking through his voice.

"Surprise me." Rosalie told him, throwing herself onto her bed back in her room. She felt like nothing she had ever felt before. Second only to making her weight loss goals.

"You've got yourself a deal." Emmett promised, traces of enjoyment in his voice as he humored the girl.

Emotions - happy, gleeful emotions - bubbled around in Rosalie's chest. It felt like her heart was laying tennis with her emotions, her strands of life.

Was it love? No, not yet. Could it be one day? The answer to that one, was yes.