Hey guys, it's been several months but uh here you go! iT'S REALLY BAD! And also in an Alice POV. Please be sure to drop a little review - every one helps a lot and they make me happy! Thank you!

Alice

She was ten when she learned that no matter how much love she put out into the world, she wouldn't get any back.

It never stopped her from trying, though.

She looks at Isabella and sees herself. Bruised, battered, with Death grinning over her shoulders. Something like an injured animal, so beautiful. Even with a bear trap around her ankles.

Alive watches delicately long fingers scribble something on a piece of paper, a frown appear in the dips of blood red lips.

She grabs her own piece of paper. "Emmett," she writes, "I'm going to do it." She passes it to him with a nudge to his shoulder.

His eyes widen - a quick scrawl and the paper is back in front of her, his expression panicked. "Alice. Don't do it."

"I'm gonna."

"She might seriously hurt you. Do you not remember last year? What she did to Tyler?"

He's referring to the time Tyler attempted to smack her ass in the hall. She was new- they had no idea what they were dealing with. She remembers the snarled threats that were spat through sharp, glinting teeth.

"He got what he deserved." She shrugs as she writes. "I will not be smacking anybody's ass in this setting."

He reads her note, reads it again with a whine and makes eye contact with her. This time he says aloud, "Thank god I have Carlisle on speed dial."

Alice glances at Isabella's stiff shoulders again, strong jawline. "Me too."

She'll be cool, calm, and collected, she thinks as she gets up and makes her way over to Isabella's table in the back of the classroom. I'll introduce myself first, she thinks. Then, I'll ask to sit down. She'll say yes out of politeness.

There are only a few things Alice knows about Isabella Swan.

One - Alice side steps a classmate's backpack- she loves her brother. Last year, some of the freshmen called Jacob horrible names, slurred at him in a racist manner. The boy took it in stride, but Isabella was gasoline igniting, a match against the backdrop of night. Furious, and with good reason. She had slammed one of the kids up against the locker, teeth pulled back into a snarl.

He was in the hospital for weeks trying to treat a broken collar bone.

Two - she's alone. Alice has maybe four classes with her, and she's never heard her speak before. Not once. The way she curls into herself, into her hoodies, hides behind her hair, lets Alice know that she's missing a few pieces of herself. She wants to help her find them.

The third thing that Alice knows about Isabella Swan is the most obvious thing. Isabella is inhumanly beautiful.

Golden eyes snap up just as Alice reaches the end of the lonely girl's table. Bemusement colors her eyes, shapes her mouth.

Alice can't stop looking at the gold flakes swirling into a depth that's too old and wise for the beautiful girl.

It occurs to Alice that this is the first time she's ever been this close to Isabella Swan.

Silence. Silence. Silence. Too much. The shorter girl takes a deep breath. "C-Can I borrow a pencil?"

Awesome, just as planned, Alice.

Isabella seems to blink out of her confusion, cold face back in position. There's a yellow pencil being offered to her before Alice gets the chance to open her mouth again. She takes it with a simple "thanks," and finds herself walking back towards her desk that holds an amused Emmett.

"Well, Tink… that went well."

"Shut the fuck up." Alice seethes as she places her newly acquired pencil in her bag.

In reality, she didn't need another pencil.

/

"Well," Rosalie starts off, putting her key in the ignition, "How did it go?"

Alice watches as she revs the engine slightly, a self satisfied smirk pulling at the edge of her mouth.

"As well as expected." Emmett pauses to burp. "She fumbled it."

"Ugh! Emmet, shut the fuck up!"

While Alice was busy making a fool of herself, Emmett had gone to the family group chat and live texted them the situation. Some of the texts include: "Player has the ball and now is making her way to the goal. Confidence in every step!" and "Oh no! She has been tackled! Will update later on how Player 13 is dealing with this travesty!"

"What happened, babe?" Rosalie asks, cutting a glare towards Emmett to quiet him down.

"I- I don't know. I looked into her eyes and I just… couldn't think of anything to say, I suppose."

Rosalie shrugs. "You're not the only one. In Russian class, we had our Oral Proficiency Interviews today and she was partnered up with the Newton kid. Fucker forgot the word for "said" after she was done speaking."

"It's her eyes," draws on the foggy window. "I think. Something about them…" An odd color for eyes. Gold. Not light brown but gold. So, so beautiful though.

They ride the rest of the in silence, Alice's cheeks still rosy and Emmett's crunching of chips offer an atmosphere of familiarity. They're seniors. It's scary to think that the grey skies and rainy clouds and even Aunt Bertha's Gas Farm won't be a reality for them come a few months.

Alice will miss the faulting red bricks lining the outside of her school and will miss laughing uncontrollably when Angela contorts her voice while reading aloud and when somebody starts to sing a line from Africa by Toto and everybody joins in. Tone deaf voices failing to hit the notes correctly, aggressive screams of "I BLESS THE RAINS DOWN IN AFRICA!" and "HURRY BOY SHE'S WAITING THERE FOR YOU," filling the halls.

She breathes in deeply, closing her eyes. Takes in the smell of Rosalie's conditioned leather seats, the coolness of the air, the sound of Captain and Tennille coming out of the stereo.

Nothing gold can stay, I guess.

/

Esme is there to greet her always. A soft smile and a gentle hug. She's wearing mom jeans today, and a bright purple and blue windbreaker.

"Wow, mom. Mood." Rosalie laughs a little, appreciating the crimped hair.

"You like it?" Esme twirls a little. "I went through my closet today and I found some clothes from my high school years!"

"I didn't know they dressed in 80's style back in the 1800s." Emmett laughs at his own joke and Esme flicks him in retaliation.

"Whatever, kid. I have a lot more style than you." Esme then turns her motherly gaze upon Alice. "So, uh, I heard you tried to talk to Isabella Swan today."

Flushing in embarrassment, she curses Emmett under her breath. "God, did the entire town hear about it?"

"It didn't go well?"

"No." Pouts Alice, hoisting herself on the counter. "I stuttered and asked for a pencil."

"Oh well," Esme wipes her hands off with a dish towel, looking around the house for more chores. "It's nice that you tried to talk to her. She seems so terribly lonely."

Hunched over shoulders, barely moving mouth, eyes that speak of an unforgettable past. "Yeah, I just - I don't think anybody should be that lonely."

She receives another hug and then the subject changes to more school related events.

"Yeah, tryouts are going well. We already know who our starters are. Jacob Swan and Tyler made the team of course. I don't even think Jake tried out or anything."

Alice loses herself in thought again, reconstructing the the hard bite of Isabella's jaw line, the shadow of her shirt splayed across her collar bone, thick and dark eyelashes framing those wonderful, beautiful eyes.

"Alice?"

"Hm?" Startles out of thoughts and realizes that Rosalie is talking to her.

Cocking an eyebrow in her direction. "How did cheer tryouts go?"

"Oh good, um, a lot of freshmen girls decided to try out, which was nice to see. It's really hard to put yourself out there so that was brave of them. We have a few ideas for our varsity team but JV is still up for grabs right now."

She excuses herself after this, citing a headache as her reason for going up to her room.

Who takes care of Isabella and her brother? I've never seen a parental figure near them. In fact, they're the only ones with the last name Swan.

Flopping down on her bed, she groans. In the words of Emmett, she really did fumble it today. It's unlike her to not show grace in all social situations. It's stupid how one person can make her fumble over her own words. The girl didn't even say anything! She just stared with those gorgeous and deep eyes, handed her a pencil wordlessly.

I'll try again tomorrow. With that, sleep enveloped her, finally putting her chagrin at ease.