Hello friendlies! Did everyone have a nice week? Yes? That's good. Ummm can I just say that I never got the hype about reviews (I do them, I just didn't get why they were so all-fired important) but I just wanted to let you guys know that I get it now! Thank you so much to the reviewers out there! You guys made me go into incessant giggling mode, so congrats.

Alright, I'm done. Here's what you want : )

I don't own anything here, except Bella's music collection.

I used to be the one you saw
When crying alone to sad songs
But then we go and we hit the wall
When nothing has changed and nothing's wrong.

--John Mayer

"Hi! I'm Alice, Alice Cullen. It looks like we'll be sitting with each other."

She held out a tiny hand, and I shook it, realizing that she was much stronger than she looked. I sniffed, and introduced myself.

"Hi, I'm Bella Swan. Nice to meet you," I wheezed out. She sat down next to me, pulling her knees to her chest and squirming a little to get comfortable.

"So, Bella, what's taking you to London?" she asked smiling kindly. For some reason, I felt myself relaxing around this girl, who I now realized seemed to be bouncing slightly in her seat. It looked like she had downed a couple of energy drinks prior to boarding.

"School," I replied. "I'm an exchange student." As I said this, her eyes lit up, and I had a terrible feeling that I was in for some sort of explosion. I was mostly right.

"Bella!!!" she squealed. "Please tell me you're going to Kingston! That would just be too perfect for words! I'm going as well, to study fashion. Can we be friends, Bella? The only person in London I know is my cousin, and this way we won't be alone! I can see it now! Do you have an apartment? We should be roommates!!" She finally stopped for breath, and I tried to catch up with the sounds she had made, convinced that somewhere in there, there were actual words. I vaguely recalled the words Kingston, fashion, and roommates. I answered slowly, trying to make sure I covered all the points.

"Yes, I'm going to Kingston. I'm a Business major, with an emphasis in Entrepreneuring, with a minor in music. Yes, I have an apartment, but it's cheap and crappy. I need to get a job before I upgrade. And yes, we can be friends."

And I swear to you, the only way to describe the sound that escaped her was "supersonic." She started clapping her hands and bouncing more forcefully in her seat.

"Oh, Bella!! You should live with me! I have a big apartment; well I guess we should call it a "flat" now, and no one to share it with! Please, please, please?" she pleaded desperately and then, all of a sudden, she pouted. I could not tell you why, but for some reason I couldn't even imagine saying no. It was like fucking magic. I had a bad feeling that I was going to come to hate that pout.

"Um, well, like I said, I don't have a job yet, and I only have so much saved up so…" I trailed off. Alice waved her hand in the air, dismissing my argument.

"Oh, Bella, my apartment is paid off for three months, and if I like, it my father will pay for it because he doesn't want me to live somewhere super shitty. So now I have a badass apartment and no one to share it with! Please say yes!!" She pouted again. God damn that pout.

"Well, if you insist Alice. I guess--" I didn't get the chance to finish my sentence because Alice suddenly had her arms wrapped around my neck. And with that, the tears were back. I don't know why my brain decided to compare Alice's hug to Jake's, but it did. I noted that her arms were much smaller, and her stature was even shorter than mine. She smelled like jasmine, whereas Jake was all pinewood forest and man. I tried to hold in my sob, but Alice noticed anyway.

"Oh, Bella, don't worry. That boy of yours, Jake, I think, he isn't worth your time. Cheer up! There's someone better out there." She smiled at me, trying to be reassuring, but I'm pretty sure I looked as if I'd just seen a ghost.

"Alice," I started, "pardon my language, but how the fuck did you know his name is Jake?" I kept my eyes focused on hers, determined to get an answer. She looked around sheepishly, a hint of pink in her cheeks. She opened her mouth a few times, trying to find the words and looking decidedly like a goldfish.

"Well, Bella, you see…I um, I get these feelings and…um...I don't know? Jake just seemed…right to me." She looked up at me, trying to gauge how freaked out I was. I wasn't afraid of shit like that in theory, but in practice? Holy fuck, I was a bit creeped out. I tried to breathe and just accepted this as part of Alice. It was kind of working.

"Okay, so…do you get these 'feelings' all the time? Because that might help if we want to win the lottery." I smiled at her, trying to convey that I didn't think she was a freak. I was rewarded by a slightly less shrill sound and another hug.

"Bella, I think I might love you!" Alice unwound her arms, and I rubbed my neck jokingly. She shoved me and giggled, and in that moment I decided that a friendship with this nice, albeit a little eccentric girl might be just what I needed. Sure, I had good friends back home, but I'd never had one that felt like…family. It was going to be a long six months, and the more support I had, the better.

We settled into our seats as the captain came on to announce we were almost ready for take-off. Alice reached over and squeezed my hand. I glanced at her, and she looked terrified.

"Alice," I whispered, "do you not like planes?"

She had her eyes closed, and I could see what little color she had to begin with was gone. I'm pretty sure there was even a thin film of sweat on her forehead, although to this day she maintains that I was on crack because she does not sweat, and she looked sick.

"Bella, to be perfectly honest with you, planes can go fuck themselves." She sighed. Her lips moved slightly, and I wondered if she were praying. I reached my hand up to my neck, finding the small chain there and pulling it over my head. I looked at it, noticing how smooth the figure on the back had become from all of my frantic rubbing. I shook Alice's arm slightly.

"Hey," She looked at me warily, wondering why I was still talking after her rather concise opinion on planes.

"Yes?" she said between clenched teeth.

"I have something for you." I held out my right hand, and she slowly placed her left beneath it. She opened her hand, and I let the medal on its chain slide onto her palm. She looked at it strangely, clearly trying to figure out what it was.

"It's a St. Christopher medal, thes the patron saint of Travelers. I used to be terrified of flying, and so…Jake… bought me this years ago when we took a vacation to California. We stopped in a little beach town and picked it up at a surf shop. I wear it every time I travel, and nothing has ever happened. Here." I let go of her hand and slipped it over her head. She instantly reached for it, her thumb finding the figure of a surfer on the back, worn smooth over the years. She took a deep breath and smiled.

"Thank you," she breathed. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. For some reason, I feel better." She inhaled deeply and opened her eyes. "I knew we were meant to be friends!" And suddenly, her energy was back.

Over the next few hours, we talked about everything. I found out she was originally from Chicago but had gone to Seattle Pacific for college to "escape the God-awful heat" that was Chicago. She was like me and had no siblings, but she had a cousin she was very close to.

Her father's family was British, she said, and when he had moved to Chicago his younger brother Edward stayed behind. We visited each other often, and when he and his wife, Elizabeth, had died in a car accident her cousin Masen, who was only eleven, had come to live with them. A sadness had come over her for a moment, but she had quickly shaken off her gloom to continue her story. Her cousin had apparently booked it back to London first chance he could get and had been there ever since studying music. I was assured he was a wonderful musician, and that she had a "feeling" he was going to make it big soon.

Oh!" She yawned suddenly, stretching her arms above her head. "Jesus, I'm tired all of a sudden. What time is it?" She checked her watch, a pretty little thing that looked like a Rolex. "Oh my God! It's already 1:00 am! If you don't mind, Bella, I'm gonna try and snag some z's before we land. Good night!" With that, she rolled over and promptly fell asleep.

Our flight had left at 10pm, which meant that we wouldn't get to London until 6:00 am our time, which would be…3:00 pm there? I didn't know or particularly care. I pulled out my iPod and my giant Bose headphones, which had caused everyone I know to give me endless amounts of grief upon purchasing them. Apparently, only wanting to hear music in surround sound was a stupid reason to buy kickass headphones. Whatever.

I scrolled through my millions of artists before finding a playlist to listen to. Soon the dulcet sounds of Another Kind of Green by the John Mayer Trio filled my ears.. The opening chords echoed through my head, the notes whirling in blues and greens behind my eyes. No matter how I was feeling, music always made me feel better. There was nothing that music couldn't fix. The vocals started, and the blues and greens suddenly received a dash of yellow, but a deep yellow, full of sorrow as well as happiness.

And I don't need another kind of green to know, I'm on the right side with you…

Well fuck. That was a bad choice. I hit skip, hoping for something that wouldn't remind me of how horribly confused I was. I closed my eyes and relaxed in my seat. I saw the gold of conviction with the yellow of sadness, and the bronze of regret. I let my mind wander with the guitar, following it up, chasing it down, living simply for the music--until I recognized the song. Damn. Babe I'm Gonna Leave You. Thanks, Led Zeppelin, for reminding me of my options. Much appreciated.

Babe, baby, baby, I'm gonna leave you…

The drums kicked in, and I jumped in my seat. What was up tonight? Why couldn't I find a song that wasn't about this whole "me-being-confused-as-shit" situation? God damn time alone. Always making you think. I went back to choosing a playlist. Scrolling, scrolling….ah! I found one that wouldn't possibly make me get all gloomy.

Yo! I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want…

Awww yeah, the Spice Girls. How can you feel bad when listening to something so…up beat? I danced around in my seat, lip synching along, and doing the stupid dance moves my friends and I had come up with at twelve. I was in the middle of my dance to the chorus of "Spice Up Your Life" when my music suddenly stopped. My eyes flew open, and I looked around to see who had interrupted my jams. Jake used to say I was like the Cave of Wonders in Aladdin when someone pulled my tunes, all "who disturbs my slumber?" and shit. Sadly, he wasn't joking. If there was one thing I didn't joke about, it was music.

Alice had apparently woken up and was busy doing something to my…oh my God, yes! She had a headphone splitter and was now joining me in my epic Spice Girls marathon. She looked at me with a smile and said "I call Posh Spice," to which I smiled and said "Cool. I'm so Scary Spice." Let's face it; Alice could never be anyone but Posh Spice.

We continued our female bonding until my Spice stash was depleted, and then Alice did something no one was allowed to do. She grabbed my iPod right out of my hands and started messing with it. Now, I will share music, but generally someone asks first. The only other person who ever did this was Jake, and it was one thing that seriously bugged me to death, mainly because he would put something on that I really couldn't stand and only had on there for him, and just keep going. Not, "can I put something on?" or "when this song is over, can we listen to…?" Nothing. He just changed it in the middle of a song. Sorry, are my pet peeves showing? Anyway, back to Alice. For some very strange reason, her iPod jacking didn't really bother me. Maybe it was because the song had been over, so we were changing anyway, or maybe it was because it was Alice.

"Ooooh! I love this!!" she squealed, clicking play. The drums picked up, sounding like an engine out of a muscle car as always. I looked over and saw Alice air drumming. No joke. The guitar started, and I figured I would Eddie Van Halen up our little ensemble. I played that air guitar like nobody's business. As it geared up to the vocal I looked at Alice to see who had the auspicious job of being David Lee Roth? As it turns out, Alice made an excellent David Lee Roth.

T-T-teacher stop that screamin'. Teacher don't you see? Don't wanna be no uptown fool. Maybe I should go to hell. But I am doing well. Teacher needs to see me after school.

I lip-synched along with the bridge when it came on; I think of all the education that I've missed. But then my homework was never quite like this! Alice brought it home with some mad drumming skills as I played my guitar, and she took over with the chorus; Ow! Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad, I'm hot for teacher. I got it bad, so bad, I'm hot for teacher!

As our song came to a close, I turned to Alice and nodded towards the row across the aisle, "Don't look now, but I think we have some fans." She turned to see the whole row staring at us. She just smiled and waved at them before turning back to me and laughing.

"They're just jealous of our awesome skills," she whispered loudly, making sure that our audience could hear her.

We spent the rest of the flight singing old rock songs, reliving the glory days with some old school boy bands, and rounding out our night with some whiny chick rock, courtesy of Alanis Morissette. By the time the sun was rising and we were preparing for our descent into Heathrow, Alice was my new favorite person.

"Alice, I think I love you. You have awesome musical sensibilities." I giggled, realizing that we were both a little worse for wear because of our long night. She looked at me, and did her rock star pose, which involved holding an invisible microphone in her left hand, throwing her right hand up into horns and banging her head.

"Rock on, bitch," she said, trying desperately to keep a straight face. A strangled giggle escaped my lips, and I saw her lips start to tremble a second before she cracked and burst out laughing. We laughed all the way off the plane, leaning on each other for support as we stumbled our way toward the exit. We were more than a little slap happy, and when the jet lag kicked in, it was only going to get worse. We made our way through the airport, walking to what we assumed to be baggage claim since everyone else from our flight was headed that direction; we hindered ourselves by spontaneously jumping into our rock star personas and air guitaring at each other. We got many strange looks from the nice people at the airport, but we honestly didn't care. We had actually spotted a sign that said "Baggage" with an arrow pointing left when a girl who must have been about sixteen came up to Alice.

"Excuse me," she said, "but are you Alice Cullen?" I looked at Alice, wondering why this nice little English girl knew her name. She gave me an embarrassed look before turning back to the girl.

"Yes, I'm Alice Cullen. What's your name?" she asked the girl, who started beaming the moment Alice confirmed her identity.

"Oh, I'm Bree. I was wondering if you would maybe…" she trailed off as she held up a magazine. I realized I had seen this magazine already, at the airport in Seattle, but the last time the headlines had been covered. I could clearly read it this time: "Chanel's prodigy intern, Alice Cullen." Alice took the magazine from the girl and signed the front, right under her name. I looked at Bree more closely, realizing she looked like a miniature version of Alice, before staring at Alice. What the fuck? She's famous? How didn't I know this! I've just spent the last four hours air-guitaring with Chanel's prodigy, how weird is that? As they parted ways, Alice sighed.

"So I maybe sort of had a feature in a magazine but I'm not some crazy snob please still be my friend!!!" she blurted out all at once. I blinked once to process what Alice had just said.

"Dude, like some 'crazy snob' would spend the whole flight lip-synching the Spice Girls and Van Halen. Just bring me some killer threads once in a while, okay?" I smiled, and she sighed in relief. She linked her arm through mine and we continued on our epic adventure to find our luggage. As soon as we arrived, Alice turned to me.

"Now Bella," she started, not a good sign at all, "you have to remember what I intend to do with my life before you judge me, okay?" She looked at me hopefully. I just nodded and gestured for her to continue towards the baggage carousel. That's when I saw them. Six gigantic suitcases, all Coach, circled the carousel. And then I saw my luggage. I grabbed my two big duffel bags and backed away, realizing that Alice had started to stare at me like I had two heads. I looked around for a mirror to see if I had something on my face to make her look at me that way.

"Bella, where is the rest of your luggage? Oh no! I hope the airline didn't lose it! That would be so horrible!" I swear to you, I saw tears in her eyes as she thought about lost clothes. I gathered my strength for the tirade that was sure to happen as soon as I explained things to my new friend.

"Well, actually Alice, this is my luggage. I don't have that many clothes to begin with, and my books are getting mailed over so…" I trailed off as I saw her jaw drop and all intelligent thought cease. No yelling, no gasps of horror or "Oh Bella!" like I had been expecting. She literally did not fucking move. She was like the Tin Man when he had no oil. Except apparently a lack of copious amounts of clothing was Alice's kryptonite. Oops.

"Do you…maybe want some help with yours? I'm assuming the Coach is yours…here I'll just…" I floundered, trying to make Alice breathe again. She was just staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused and jaw slack. I quickly dropped my bags and reached for the first suitcase as it passed me again, grabbing the handle and pulling. The suitcase lurched off the conveyor belt and crushed me under the weight of one very small woman's obsession. I managed to push it off me in time to grab the next one as it came around. I braced my feet and tried to avoid death by fashion.

By the time I had gotten crushed by every single one of Alice's suitcases, she still had yet to move. I walked slowly over to her, trying not to alarm her if she was still among the living. I waved my hand slowly in front of her face. "Alice," I called gently. "Aaaliiicee…."and finally, she breathed. She took a huge breath and then gave such a sigh that Scarlett O'Hara would have been jealous. She looked at me, a strange dreamy look on her face. I said nothing, trying to figure out if she was lulling me into a false sense of security before the attack or what.

"Oh Bella," she breathed, "isn't he beautiful?" I followed her gaze to see a tall, handsome man at the other end of the lobby, just standing by the doors. She was right, he was very handsome. He had broad shoulders and slim waist of a swimmer; he had those all-American good looks but judging by his clothes, there was just enough rebellion in him to save him from being Wally Cleaver. He had on what seemed to be a black t-shirt, a brown leather vest, a pair of jeans that made his ass look real nice, and the most loved boots I'd ever seen. They were brown leather, but they had been broken in and scuffed up by years of wear. That was good, because Alice had told me last night that while some shoes should remain in good shape, others should just be lived in. They were meant to be worn, and that means worn out. Hell, I'd had my Chucks for at least 6 years, and they were doing just fine, mostly.

The most awesome brown felt fedora I'd ever seen was perched on his head. It was in perfect shape, with a small burst of red, yellow and green feathers tucked into the band on the left side. I could see a few stray curls peeking out from under his hat, and they were exact color spun gold. It just made him go from "hot" to "smoking."

"Yes Alice, he's definitely beautiful," I conceded, because there was just no denying that fact. She glanced quickly at me, before looking at the ground shyly.

"I'm going to marry him, Bella. He doesn't know it yet, but I'm going to marry him." I just stared at her, dumbfounded.

"Um, excuse me, did you say you were going to marry him? You haven't even talked to him!" I'd been with Jake for four years and I still wasn't sure I wanted to marry him, and she lays eyes on this man for five fucking seconds and she's going to marry him. But then I wondered if she was getting a "feeling" about it, and decided that was even weirder.

I expected some kind of reaction but Alice just kept smiling, probably imagining what was sure to be a lavish, beautiful wedding because I just didn't see Alice accepting anything else. She was still standing in the middle of the lobby, blocking people's paths with her gargantuan luggage collection and was still staring at the stranger. Suddenly, he turned and saw Alice. He stopped completely, his posture a mirror image of hers. They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, but what was in fact about five seconds. That's when I recognized him.

"Pssst! Alice! I know that guy! Well, I know his name. he was on the history channel in Seattle but that's beside-" Alice suddenly came back to life, and even though her hand reached out and grasped my wrist much harder than I thought was possible for such a tiny woman, she never took her eyes off the stranger.

"Bella," she said through clenched teeth, "if you know his name, would you please be so kind as to tell me?" She twisted my wrist a little, just for emphasis, and I spit it out quickly, hoping to avoid permanent damage.

"Jasper! His name is Dr. Jasper Whitlock! Please, Alice, for fuck's sake, could you please stop trying to remove my hand? It's not a fucking screw cap!" She released my wrist suddenly, and I attempted to rub circulation back into my hand. All of a sudden, there was a huge gasp from beside me. I cautiously looked at Alice and as I followed her gaze, and realized that super sexy Dr. Whitlock was coming her way. I also noticed that he had on a Led Zeppelin t shirt, faded beyond belief, and he got some more cool points.

"Alice," I said as I poked her in the ribs, "Alice, he's coming over here! Pay attention!" I poked her again, and she looked at me, clearly annoyed, until what I had said to her sunk in through the fog she seemed to be stuck in.

What?" she half whispered/ half shrieked in my ear. I looked pointedly at Dr. Hottie, who had a massive ass grin on his face, and back to Alice, who finally seemed to consciously realize he was almost upon us. She started to breathe rhythmically, clearly trying to calm herself before her "soul mate" arrived. He slowed slightly as he reached us and never took his eyes off of Alice. He stopped about three feet away and tipped his hat, a smile playing at his lips.

"Ma'am, I couldn't help but notice that you have an awful lot of bags there and I was wondering if I could lend you a hand." And by God if he didn't have the sexiest southern drawl I'd ever heard in my life. Smart, young, handsome, and a gentleman? There had to be a catch. I looked him over, trying to decide the best course of action, but before I even opened my mouth Alice had spoken.

"Oh, how kind of you!" she said, suddenly sounding just like Donna Reed. "Bella isn't it kind of…oh! I have completely forgotten my manners! I haven't introduced myself. My name is Alice Cullen, and this is my friend, Bella Swan." She held out her hand and by God if that man didn't lean down and kiss her hand. How perfect could one man be? I held out my hand, and he shook it, nodding his head slightly.

"Did you say Alice Cullen? Are you by chance any relation to Edward Cullen?" He looked at her, probably searching for some resemblance to his friend. Alice's eyes lit up, and she looked positively ecstatic.

"You know Masen? How lovely!" she cried, and I saw the gears working in her head, clearly going where I had and figuring out that if he did indeed know her cousin, she was almost guaranteed to see more of him. I figured it was time for me to help to since it looked like they were going to stick with social niceties until they died.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't think I caught your name?" I said innocently. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alice glare daggers at me for interrupting what I'm sure was a very meaningful stare, but I just kept smiling at him sweetly.

"Oh, please excuse me," he said quickly. "Boy, my Mamma sure would have skinned me alive if she were here and saw me forget my manners like that. I'm sorry, but Alice here just seems to make me forget everything but her." There was a small squeak from Alice at this, but I just kept looking at Mr. Perfect. He looked at me finally, dragging his eyes away from Alice for a second. "My name is Jasper Whitlock. It's a pleasure to meet you."

A/N: Oh, Jasper.

Ok, so I think either Saturday or Monday I will post shit unless RL gets in the way, but my schedule's pretty set so I don't see any major complications coming from that direction.

Rec's: Ok, so this one is an RPF and I used to not really like those but this one changed my mind! It's by AshLove on Twilighted and AshLove83 on FF. Its called Definitions of Love and its awwweeeesoomee. Trust me : )