I know this is going to make some of you unhappy, but the Rosalie in this story is going to be a bitch. Not Meyer's version where Rosalie's behavior was perfectly justified. A petty, bitchy, brat who always gets her way because she has her rich daddy wrapped around her finger. If you want to read a story where Rosalie's strong character is beloved and celebrated, you can read Bleeding Hearts. Even my Canon divergent fics are fair to Rose. This one isn't. She's unlikable and she's supposed to be.

Rosalie hadn't given Edward a second to breathe before she snapped at his throat. "Did you think we wouldn't see what you were doing?"

Edward ignored her. "How was the rest of the Mixer?"

The few murmurs from his siblings were cut short by Rose's demand, "Who was that person?"

"No one," Edward said automatically. Rather than join Rosalie and Emmett in their Jeep and continue the interrogation, he crammed himself into the passenger seat of Alice's Porche. Grateful for the opportunity for more legroom in the Jeep, Jasper did not object to losing his usual spot. Edward's plan did not work. Though they were in separate cars, Rosalie had not given up. Hunched over, blasted by K-Pop and Alice's chattering, he could still make out the threats in Rosalie's mind.

Back home, Rosalie went straight for the balcony attached to Carlisle's study. Everyone who wasn't a savage went through the front door. Esme sat in the living room with an intricate embroidery on her lap, working by candlelight, patiently awaiting her children.

Edward had not lied to Bella—he was adopted. Not in the traditional sense. After Carlisle changed her at the age of thirty-eight—nearly ten years his senior—Esme yearned for a family. Unable to provide her with a biological baby and unable to bring a human child safely into their lives, Carlisle had to improvise to give his wife what she wanted.

Edward was his first gift to her. Rosalie was the second.

With all five young vampires turned at the age of nineteen, they were drawn to Esme's maternal warmth like moths to flame—they sought her attention, love, and guidance just as any child would. Her ability to love was her supernatural gift, like Edward's telepathy or Jasper's empathy. Like a maiden in folklore, her gentle heart and ethereal beauty were unsurpassed. She completed her mundane craft, the soft lighting of the flickering candles played off the highlights of her caramel hair, bringing out the richness. The room itself brightened with her adoring smile. "How was your night?"

Alice bounded up to her first, curled against Esme on the couch like a kitten, and launched into a physical description of each of the friends she made. Emmett was just as excited, yet not as descriptive as Alice, to tell Esme about his time at the mixer. While his verbose siblings occupied Esme's attention, Edward crept closer to the staircase, eager to slip away to his piano.

When his foot touched the bottom step, Esme's voice froze him into place. "Edward, you didn't tell me about your night."

"It was fine." It was the truth. The time spent with Bella balanced out any discomfort from earlier to create a perfectly fine evening.

She looked to Alice and Emmett, "He sat alone in a corner, didn't he?"

"Only for a bit," Alice lied while Emmett told a different lie, "Life of the party."

"He was actually alone with a human," Rosalie's harsh voice cut through the room.

Carlisle followed behind her, disappointment was evident in both his thoughts and on his face. The family stood at his arrival, like soldiers to a general, though Carlisle would never think of himself as such.

The man who had been Edward's father figure for nearly a century was only eleven years his senior. His obvious youth had never been a deterrent against his natural leadership. His poise could command any room, his wisdom could earn the respect of everyone he encountered, and his compassion brought out the best of those around him. When he turned Edward into a vampire, he became his father in every way but biologically. Fed him, educated him, housed him. With his cold, steady hand, he guided Edward through his supernatural world and taught him how to use vampirism for the good of humanity. He had set rules, guidelines to keep their human counterparts safe from their deadly presence.

Edward had just broken one.

Though Carlisle was disappointed, Rosalie did the verbal chastising. "Just because you decide to spend most of your time crying and sulking in the loneliest corners of the Earth does not mean you get to flaunt the rules whenever you deign to be a member of this family."

"I'm sorry," Edward said to Carlisle. "It wasn't on purpose."

Carlisle's disappointment was perfectly justified. Edward knew that. It was dangerous to be alone with a human. Yet, Edward had Bella all alone, in the dark, far away from any other witnesses. Even as vampires who did not prey on humans, they needed to refrain from situations that could result in an accident.

"These things are never on purpose. Even still…" Carlisle began until Alice interrupted him, confidently. "Edward would have never hurt this human."

"We know Edward has wonderful control and always has. But we must always execute caution. Even Rosalie who has never taken a human life adheres to our rules," As Carlisle spoke, he took his favorite daughter's hand and held it in his.

"No. Edward wouldn't hurt this human because she's going to be important to him."

Carlisle opened his mouth to reiterate his point that the rules applied to everyone no matter what, but Esme placed a gentle hand on his chest, stopping the statement before it left his mouth. "Important how?"

"I found a human whose mind I cannot read."

"Another Posey?" Esme asked, unable to hide her disdain for the older woman.

"A student." Alice responded, excitedly. "A girl! A pretty girl."

Esme clasped Alice's hand in glee. "You saw her?"

"In several visions," Alice told the room, thrilled with the opportunity to finally spread her gossip. The room tittered.

Esme gave her daughter a playful shove. "Draw her, honey! Draw her!"

While Alice ran upstairs to get her art supplies, the family congregated around the dining room table. Everyone knew Edward as the self-sentenced social pariah of the family. In the rare moments he found a person for which he was willing to crawl out of his shell, curiosity flared. Esme and Alice hoped for love. Emmett hoped for a transformation akin to a worm and a butterfly. Rosalie hoped for a slip-up. Carlisle and Jasper paid close attention to ensure the safety of the family.

The person least invested in the entire ordeal was always Edward.

He followed along and slumped against the empty corner of the room.

Alice materialized at the head of the table. The entire family watched Alice sketch out her latest vision with uncanny realism. Instead of sharing a laugh in class or sitting in the library, Bella and Edward sat side-by-side on a bench, engrossed in conversation. Bella looked down at her lap, a curtain of her hair separating them. Edward leaned on his elbows closer to her eye level, obviously hoping to ease whatever discomfort she felt. A massive canvas hung behind the bench.

"This one's a bit blurry, but I hope it comes true," Alice explained to the family.

Esme squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "She's certainly pretty, isn't she?"

Alice nodded. Her tongue poked out from the side of her mouth as she concentrated.

"That hair!" Esme's pinky is traced along the center of the drawing. "What color is it?"

"Brown," Alice said at the same time Edward said, "Mahogany."

Esme fought a smile. "And her eyes?"

This time, Edward knew better. "Brown."

Alice smirked. "Like melted chocolate."

Esme's hand flew over her heart. "Well, she certainly checks all his boxes, doesn't she?" The girls giggled, delighted.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Edward asked, but both girls continued the conversation as if he wasn't standing right there.

"She really does," Alice agreed.

"It's the cheekbones that do it."

"I should have used color on this. They look even better with blush."

"Does she wear a lot of blush?"

"No, mom. She blushes naturally."

Esme sighed, longingly. "Carlisle, honey, you have to let him be alone with her."

Automatically, Carlisle reached for his wife. He encircled her in his arms and rested his chin on her shoulder.

As he searched for a gentle way to let Esme down, Edward interceded, "I don't have to be alone with her!"

"You'll want to," Alice responded, her tone matter of fact.

"You're both being ridiculous."

For the first time in over fifty years, Rosalie agreed with her brother. "Exactly." With a snort, she added, "It's not like Edward is actually going to fall in love with that girl."

"Why not?" Esme asked, innocently, looking at him instead of Rosalie.

Edward's eyes were on Rosalie, and the dangerous thoughts she hid, "Yes, Rosalie. Why not?"

Rosalie's thoughts did not arrive at their destination, but Edward recognized the track they were on. He wasn't an idiot. Edward glowered at Rosalie, silently daring her to finish her cruel thought. Bella was fat. Therefore, Edward could never fall for her.

Edward never stood up to Rosalie. Not in front of her entire support system. It was as futile as it was dangerous. She always had Carlisle's full support and Emmett would do anything for his wife. With them on her side, Rosalie was able to do and think as she pleased. Typically, Edward kept her cruller thoughts to himself, allowing her angel's mask to stay in place. However, the dark thoughts she harbored towards Bella could not be so easily ignored.

He took a step out of the corner towards Rosalie. "Falling in love with her would be easy," he said with another step. "I already enjoy talking to her. I like being around her. I find her quite pretty." Edward closed the distance between them until they stood nose-to-nose. "In fact, she might be the most beautiful girl I have ever seen."

Somewhere, Esme gasped. She and Alice most likely grabbed each other's hands again.

"So, tell me. Why are you so certain I would never fall in love with her?"

Rosalie didn't flinch. Her back remained ramrod straight as she adjusted her reasoning. "Because she's human."

Edward pressed her lips into a hard line.

"Think about it, Edward," Rosalie drew even closer, rubbing her hands down his arms. "A soft, warm body in your arms." She stepped even closer, pressing herself up against his chest, "The beat of her human heart hammering against your chest." She ran her nose up the length of his neck, "The blood in her veins close enough to taste."

Venom pooled in Edward's mouth. He swallowed hard.

"That's what I thought," she snickered, stepping back. "You would never fall in love with her because you could never get close to her."

"Give the boy a break, Rosie," Emmett snaked his arm around his partner's waist and pulled her close. "He's got a lower death toll than almost all of us."

She rested her head against Emmett's broad shoulder, "But only Carlisle and I have never tasted human blood. Even with my perfect record, I stayed away from you. I put your safety before my feelings for you."

The story was told dozens of times. The family lived through it. Still, Rosalie began the tale

"College quarterback hopelessly in love with the mysterious honors student. Refused to date so he could be available on the off chance he would miraculously run into her. Seemingly to no avail. After a terrible accident on the field took away his ability to walk, she visited him in his hospital room. Not only to tell him she loved him back, but with a promise to return his mobility to him, so he could play sports again."

"Yes, Rose. We've already alerted the Hallmark Channel of your inspiring romance."

Rosalie only knew to visit Emmett at the hospital was because Edward told her he reciprocated her feelings. However, that part was always left out of the retellings.

"My only concern is for the sweet girl's safety," Rosalie concluded safely between Emmett and Carlisle. "I chose not to risk a human's life, though I had every reason to believe Emmett would be perfectly safe with me. I waited for fate to intervene, just like Carlisle did for Esme."

Edward frowned. Rosalie won again.

"In fact, knowing that Edward is drawn to her already, he should have to stay as far away from her as possible. Perhaps even drop the class they share."

Carlisle scratched his chin.

"Carlisle…" Esme began, the longing in her voice difficult for him to ignore.

Edward swallowed. Carlisle carefully weighed the decision. If he were to agree with Rosalie, Edward would turn his back on Bella. No questions asked. He was tempted to say just that; Rosalie was rarely incorrect. However, Esme was his entire world. And his world's one wish was for her son to be a little less lonely.

"If Edward finds himself drawn to the human girl, he should act responsibly. Be the closest to an exit. Remain in public. Stick within earshot of witnesses."

Esme and Alice squealed and clapped as if they were the ones earning approval.

A poor loser, Rosalie stalked out of the room. Knowing better than to follow when she was in a state, Emmett remained. He joined the girls as they fussed over Alice's drawing of Bella. Off to the side, Carlisle and Jasper exchanged terse promises from the other that everything was going to be just fine. Everyone acted like Edward ran off and married the girl. In reality, they shared two, brief conversations. When Esme considered framing the drawing, Edward decided enough was enough and stalked out of the room. Everyone was too distracted to stop him.

Finally, Edward sat at his piano. The music room was attached to the very small bedroom up on the fourth floor. It had been a last-minute addition to put an extra floor between Edward and the rest of the family to spare him from their thoughts. Passed the second floor that contained their bedrooms, Edward continued up the wrought iron spiral staircase that was built through the attic to his own, quiet space.

At the moment, the space was not quiet. Rosalie's thoughts were charged up and ready to fire like a fleet of arrows. She sat at his piano, her perfect nails toying with the keys, but not pressing down hard enough to make a sound. For one horrifying second, Edward thought she was going to put all her strength into the movement and crush them into dust before his eyes. However, she merely opened the book resting on the music desk and began to play one of Edward's latest compositions.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" she hissed, her voice low enough so no one else in the house could be able to hear her.

"Do you think I want to be this way?"

"I think you love it," she continued to play. The notes were light and sonorous; her tone deep and sardonic. A perfect juxtaposition. "I think you love your spot on your little throne. Casting your judgment down on us for thoughts we cannot control rather than our actions. Determine who we are based on instinct instead of what we choose to do."

Edward pressed his lips together. She had cast him as the villain in her own head long ago. Nothing he could say would change that.

Rosalie stopped playing halfway through the piece.

From downstairs, Esme's voice yelled out, "Don't stop, Edward. That was lovely! Your best in a while."

Rosalie smiled, pleased with herself. She had been playing piano for only a short while, yet she possessed enough skill to be mistaken for Edward, who had been playing and performing professionally for a century. Truly, she was perfect in every conceivable way. At least, the beautiful mask that covered her foulness was perfect. And Edward was the only one in the house who could see beneath it.

"Do everyone a favor and go back to whatever bog you haunt. We don't need you here."

oOo

Bella hadn't realized she was daydreaming until Charlie rushed into the room, asking what was burning. With a start, Bella turned off the flame and moved the pan to the furthest burner. The onions she had been caramelizing were nothing but sad, burnt strands. "Oh my."

"What got into you?" Charlie asked, already chopping up a second onion without needing to be asked.

Bella shook the piercing, golden gaze out of her head. "I was thinking about a book." It was a blatant lie, but it was also a standard response from her. Charlie didn't press the subject.

After adding a pat of butter to a new pan, Bella grabbed the cutting board from Charlie to scrape the freshly cut onions into the pan. There wouldn't be enough time to properly caramelize them, so cooked onions would have to be enough.

"How was your day?" She usually preferred to work in the kitchen alone, but apparently, Bella needed a distraction from her distractions.

"Good. The kids are adjusting to school. Today, we only had four meltdowns instead of twelve."

"Progress."

"Progress is right," Charlie nodded in agreement. He continued to share the woes of a kindergarten teacher. "Oh! Get this—there's a new teacher."

"As in new new?"

"New new."

Bella's eyebrows rose. That was almost unheard of in the tiny town of Forks. Most teachers stayed in their roles for decades. Any new staff member had grown up in the school system and returned home to teach. No one in their right mind moved here without any internal connections.

Bella's mind flashed to Edward, who said he and his parents recently bought a house outside of Forks.

"What's their name?"

"Mrs. Cullen. Mrs. Esme Cullen."

Bella's shoulders dropped, though she had no idea why. How would it benefit her if Edward's mother happened to work at Charlie's school?

"How is she?"

"Fine." Charlie's voice was high and tight. He was a worse liar than Bella.

"That bad?"

"No. she's not bad at her job. She's great with the kids. In fact, I haven't heard a single temper tantrum thrown in her classroom," Charlie put down his spatula. His voice dropped to a whisper even though they were the only two people in the house. "There's something… off with her."

Intrigued, Bella turned down the heat. "What do you mean?"

"I can't put my finger on it. She's perfectly pleasant and extremely attractive. Never a hair out of place, even after a day of wrangling children." He shook his head, his gaze far-off and speculative. "I just feel… odd when I'm in a room with her. Frightened, almost. Like, if I turn my back to her, she's going to bite my head clean off. Do you think I sound crazy?"

"I think you've read The Stepford Wives too many times."

Charlie snorted. He loved that book.

"I'm sure you're not crazy. The whole energy of a new person in town must have you on edge."

"Probably."

The oven timer beeped. Charlie took the fresh buttermilk biscuits out of the oven. He inhaled deeply, savoring the buttery scent. "I don't know where you got your culinary prowess, but I love it."

Bella beamed. It always made her happy to make other people happy through cooking. Bella threw some arugula in the pan with the onions and pushed the mixture to the side to make room to fry up the eggs.

The conversation had clearly ended, but Bella couldn't help but mention Edward. He was like an infection to the mind. The prettiest brain disease ever to exist. "There's another new family you'll have to keep your eyes peeled for. The Masons."

"How do you know them?"

"Their son goes to my school. He commutes from Forks, too."

"Does he now?" Charlie asked, in a tone that suggested far more than it should.

"Don't get excited. We were partners for a stupid get-to-know-you game. It casually came up."

"I'm not the one blushing like a bride."

Bella lowered her face, "It's from the heat of the stove."

"My mistake."

Bella didn't look up from dinner. She smothered the opened biscuits with chive honey butter and piled them with the egg, onions, and arugula.

Charlie took the hint. "Fine. We don't need to talk about Mr. Masen. Tell me about your other friends."

Bella did. Over breakfast-for-dinner biscuit sandwiches.

The following week, Bella met up with that tentative group of friends every day for lunch. The boys Angela and Jessica had talked to at the Honor's Society Mixer were roommates from their dorm. Mike and Ben seemed friendly enough. And perfect candidates for both Jessica and Angela. Mike was a blonde, gold-retriever type who wore polos and loafers and would happily follow Jessica's heels while carrying her massive number of books and equipment for her extracurriculars. Ben was another quiet type like Angela, who kept his nose in a comic book, but gladly let Angela lean in and read beside him.

Neither were comparable to Edward, but that was no fault of theirs. No one was. Bella's friends were smart enough to set their sights on attainable goals.

Mike had a job at the smoothie stand in the student center. Because of that, their usual spot became the small table right beside it that usually remained empty because the whirr of the blender regularly interrupted conversations. The group dutifully dealt with the constant interruption so Mike could join the conversation during a lull and accept free smoothies whenever he messed up an order.

When Bella arrived at lunch on a cold, rainy Wednesday, Jessica and Angela had their shared assignments strewn across the table, currently forgotten. There was no one in line for a smoothie—unsurprising on a chilly day—so Mike was engaged in conversation with both ladies. Even Ben had his comic flipped down on the table. Whatever they were talking about, it must have been interesting.

Bella joined them, unnoticed.

"…the vampire," Mike concluded.

"Just because she's goth doesn't mean she's a vampire," Jessica said in a robotic voice that sounded like it wasn't her first time uttering that sentence.

"I'm not saying that all goths are. I'm saying that this one is."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Bella, please say something insightful to save us all from having this stupid conversation again."

"It's a square and a rectangle," she said, seriously, "Not all goth people are vampires, but I do think all vampires need to be goth." Mike cheered from behind the counter, happy to have someone willing to play along.

Angela chimed in, "I don't think any of them would be goth, because it's what we would expect them to look like."

"Or," Ben held up a finger, "They would expect us to expect that, so they dress goth to really throw us."

The table laughed.

Jessica haughtily tucked her curly hair behind both ears. "Joke all you want, but vampires are, like, really real. One went through my town when I was a baby. You guys better watch what you say, you might piss one off."

The group stared at Jessica in silence for half a beat before both boys cracked up. Angela tentatively joined in.

"Jessy's a believer!" Mike taunted.

"Shut up," she blushed.

"Don't worry," he hung over the counter, "It only makes you cuter."

She giggled and swatted at him.

Lauren sauntered up to the table soon after Bella. To Bella's immense dismay, Lauren had her sights set on a boy who worked alongside Mike at the smoothie stand. She called Tyler's name and waved. He looked up from the fruit he'd been prepping at waved back. When he noticed Bella arrived while he'd been busy, he waved at her, too.

Lauren did not greet Bella. Instead, she glanced down at my meal consisting of chicken tenders and a side salad with a wry smile.

"That's a cute try." The comment was only directed at Bella, even though both Angela and Jessica had the same thing on their plates.

Bella didn't say anything. Thankfully, Tyler took his break as soon as she sat down and occupied her attention.

The three couples chatted happily around Bella. As the seventh wheel, she tried to stay out of it. With no desire for her thoughts to wander back to tousled bronze hair or perfectly sculpted biceps, she mentally planned the arguments for two essays. Ideas flew freely. Bella brought out a notebook to jot them down.

"We would need to find a date for Bella!"

"Sorry," Jessica tucked her head between her shoulders, "I didn't mean to break your focus."

"Yes," Lauren grinned, "We all know how important food is to Bella."

Jessica and Angela blinked in surprise, unsure of how to respond.

"Can't blame her," Tyler swiped a piece of chicken off Bella's plate and took a bite, "I know I would appreciate an evening alone with these chicken tenders."

The table laughed. Even Bella cracked a smile.

Jessica fluffed her hair. "I was saying, if we all go out to downtown Seattle this weekend, we would need to find a date for you!"

"If she brings the tenders, I'd be her date," Tyler teased, swiping another piece of chicken.

Lauren plucked it out of his hand and took a bite, "You would be my date."

"I would share."

"Bella already has a date," Angela said, uncharacteristically bringing the attention to herself. "She would go with Edward Masen."

"What?" Jessica gasped. "What makes you say that?"

Angela clearly had not expected such a horrified reaction out of her friend. She leaned back, into Ben—who did not mind the contact of her shoulder against his. "I—I—I'm sorry. When Bella left the Honors Society Mixer last Friday, I noticed that Edward Masen wasn't sitting at that table anymore either. I assumed you two were together."

Jessica whirled and spat out, "Were you?"

"Who?" Tyler asked.

"Yeah, who is this?" Mike repeated, troubled by Jessica's panicked frenzy over another man's name.

"He's a boy that goes to our school. Yes, we hung out together away from the party." Jessica's eyes bulged. Bella waved her hands in a gesture of innocence, "But it was completely unintentional. In fact, he almost sat on me."

That brought a laugh out of Lauren. Bella didn't have to imagine why. She was glad no one else around the table asked her for an explanation.

"Are you going to ask him to come downtown with us?" Jessica asked.

"I already have plans this weekend," she partially lied. There was nothing concrete, but Charlie and Bella usually hung out on Friday nights. Usually to practice or research his latest hobby over freshly baked cookies and hot chocolate.

"But if you could go, would you invite him?"

"Probably not."

Despite her faults and obvious obsession with Edward, Jessica was kind enough to see that Bella no longer wished to speak on the matter. She sniffed, then continued talking about what they wanted to do Downtown.

Since half of her lunch had been taken by Tyler, Bella returned in line to get some more. Lauren scoffed, but no one else at the table paid her any attention.

In line, out of the spotlight, Bella considered Jessica's question and how she wished she could have responded.

The attraction was mutual. A group date was the perfect opportunity to break the ice. Better yet! Bella would have to turn down the group date because the intensity between her and Edward was too strong.

Bella sighed. It could never be.

As often as it seemed like it could.

When the corner of his perfect lips twitched up into a half smile. Or when the word lovely rolled off his tongue. In those moments, Bella could truly believe he found her lovely. She could also believe meaningless sweet nothings rolled off his tongue quite often. He seemed like the kind of person who would describe a good parking spot as lovely. It meant little to nothing when the word was directed at Bella.

Even with that in mind, even with all the reminders Bella had set for herself, even with every cell in her body demanding she not to fall for its self-preservation, the next time Bella saw Edward, she wore his favorite color. So, when Edward walked into class and occupied the desk beside her, he would look over his shoulder and say, "You look lovely in that shade of green."