Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really.


Bailey An's Stuff: Uh… No FYI…

FYI:

Bella's point of view:

I didn't want to turn around, shrouded with fear that Edward would kill. I could feel the anger emanating off of him.

Wait… why was I so scared of Edward? Like he could do anything. I could easily just tap his broken nose and watch him cringe. But maybe since it is his house, I should just leave and try to avoid his angry glowers.

Slowly, and unwillingly, I turned around and braced myself for his fury. His emerald eyes where full of hate, but softened when he looked at what I was holding. Perplexed, I looked down to see what was in my hands. I brought the case to my face and instantly remembered it was the Debussy CD.

"You like Debussy?" Edward asked incredulously. His tone was hard and I could still tell he was fuming.

I lowered the case and looked at Edward's face. God, was he gorgeous! So beautiful, it was almost inhuman… I felt myself staring at him, but I couldn't stop-- he was mesmerizing. He raised an eyebrow and I snapped back to reality. I averted my gaze from him.

"Oh, yes, Debussy. Just a few songs-- I only memorized my favorites," I answered, looking over the songs on his CD.

"Which one is your favorite?" he asked, falsely bored with the conversation.

I knew that answer easily. 'Clair de Lune' was my favorite. My mom used to play it a lot when I lived with her. Her classical music stage was my favorite, without a doubt. The music she had was of impeccable taste, no argument. Sometimes, when she wasn't working, me and my mom would just sit around our small house and listen to Debussy, Mozart, and every once in a while, Beethoven.. I missed her so much…

I sighed at the memories and stood up, not caring that I didn't answer Edward's question. When I passed him at the threshold, I dropped the CD case is his arms that remained folded over his chest. I slowly slouched down the stairs, not tripping. Once in the living area, I halted and saw everyone was talking to someone. Esme and Carlisle, Jasper and Alice, and Rosalie and Emmett. It was like automatic pairing.

I decided to just take a seat next to Jasper, I didn't want to intrude on his conversation with Alice, but I really needed his comfort.

As I sat down next to him, Jasper jumped. He was so entranced with his conversation with Alice, he didn't even notice my presence until my head leaned on his shoulder. He immediately took his comforting position: one arm wrapped around my shoulder. Alice watched us, worriedly.

After a bit, Jasper had to ask. "What's wrong, Bella?"

I looked up at him. "I'm homesick. I miss Mom, Dad, our friends. I miss the heat… I want to go back, Jasper," I managed weakly. If I spoke any louder, I would have started crying.

Jasper was quiet for a moment. "Bella, you can't. Renee and Charlie can't afford to take care of us anymore. Besides, you said you always wanted to spend time with Esme," he said after a while.

I sighed. "I know, but I just want to," I paused, looking at Alice. "You know what? I'm just going to go home. I don't want to ruin everyone's evening." I stood up and stretched, taking a deep breath.

I walked over to Esme, who was engrossed in a conversation with Dr. Cullen. "Esme?" I asked quietly.

She looked up at me with kind eyes. It was going to be hard to ask to leave, but I really didn't want to start crying there. Especially with Edward there. I shuddered at the thought.

"Yes, Bella?"

I took a deep breath through my nose. "Can I go back to the house? I…" I looked at Carlisle and then back as Esme. "I don't feel well." It was slightly a lie, but it didn't matter. I didn't want to hurt Esme's feelings, plus I was sick. Homesick. I couldn't understand how Rosalie and Jasper took it so well. If only I could mask my emotions like them. It would be a great gift.

Esme jumped up from where she was sitting, surprising both me and Dr. Cullen. "Oh, dear!" She situated her right hand on my forehead, feeling for a fever.

I tried to duck away, but she had a tight grasp on my shoulder at the same time. Esme may had been short, but she was vitally aware of her strength.

Esme removed her hand. "You don't have a fever," she whispered, perplexed to why I wouldn't be feeling well.

"I'm nauseous. I really would be comfortable p--" I stopped myself mid-sentence. I'm sure Dr. Cullen wouldn't be too happy to hear that I would puke in his house (even though I wouldn't, since it was a lie). "May I just go home?"

Esme felt my forehead on more time. "Are you sure you're okay to drive?"

Dr. Cullen stood up. "It's okay if you stay here, Isabella. I'm a doctor after all," he advocated.

I raised up a hand. My tear ducts were hurting and were about to burst. "That won't be necessary. I'll just drive myself back to our house…" I trailed. We only had one car here. How would everyone else get home…? "On second thought, it might be better to stay here. Do you have a spare room?"

Dr. Cullen nodded. "Go to the third floor. All the rooms, except one, are unoccupied. Edward's bedroom is up there--it's the first door," he told me.

I nodded. I was still upset and I could feel my eyes watering already. I ran to the stairs, holding my breath. I took it one step at a time and I could feel a tear falling down my right cheek. I kept myself hushed, even though I was typically a quiet crier. I took a deep breath and breath shook and when I breath out, tears poured out of me. I was crying hard, and I kept my mouth closed, determined to silence myself. By the time I reached the top of the stairs before the third floor, I was cringing from sobbing.

I missed them. My parents. My mom, my dad. It didn't matter that they weren't the best, I missed them. They raised me from when I was a child and I owed it to them to love them, meaning I would miss them. I never expected myself to go to college and I didn't really have a social life and I only read books when I had free time, so I never had a reason to mad at them or to be prepared to leave them. Plus, under the circumstances when I left, only made it worse and more unsuspected. I loved Esme, but she wasn't my mother.

I sounded so pathetic. I was seventeen and I was crying over leaving my parents, young kids were meant to do that. They needed their parents, but I was old enough and mature enough that I didn't need them.

I stared at the window that was at the end of the hall. Maybe… it was because I was a kid--on the inside, I mean. I still liked to watch Barney and Sponge bob, while Rose and Jasper were watching MTV and Adult Swim. I find the themes of many of the shows on those channels repugnant, yet almost all normal young adults watched them. What was wrong with me? Was it that I never fit in, so I stuck to my parents who always welcomed me, like some young, sheltered child?

I stopped crying and sat at the end of the stairs. Is that another reason for why I cried? I was sent away from my protection from the real world and I had to face it on my own? I had no one I could turn to. Rose and Jasper always tried to make me more social, Esme wouldn't want to me just sit around and read. Renee and Charlie, they kept me safe, regardless of my age. So was it their fault?

No. I had always been asking for the protection, whether I was aware of it or not. I had always come to them with all my problems (which were mainly whether I should by a new book or reread one) and I never went to anyone else. I would ask for their comfort when I heard of someone dying on the news. I would always cringe to them when the monster popped up in scary movies. When ever they would leave, I'd ask them to stay. I never tried to grow up either. I stayed puerile.

It was my fault. All my fault. Had they really run out of money to afford us, or was I too clingy? Or maybe they wanted me to be able to grow up? But… I didn't want to grow up. I wanted to still be at our house in Phoenix. What could I do, though? I couldn't go back.

I stood up and wiped my eyes with my sleeve. I took a deep and shaky breath and walked into a room closest to the window. I opened the door, having to jiggle the handle slightly, and gawked at the large and old room that was before me. It looked like a bedroom you'd see in a horror movie, but one of the walls was a giant window, moonlight casting in. The only piece of furniture inside of it was a queen sized bed, white pale blue sheets. The room seemed ghostly, but serene.

I could easily smell the dust inside of it, but I knew the bed wasn't dusty as a rubbed my right hand along it. I lifted the covers, taking another deep breath, and crawled inside of it. I realized I had left the door open, but I retaliated getting up and closing it. I was tired from crying, my head hurt, and I was nauseous (not lying) from all the mucus from my nose draining into my stomach (ew…).

I closed my eyes. I didn't care if I ever fell asleep. All I wanted to do was not think; sadly, it's hard. I took another breath, my breathing pace slowing. It wasn't long until I was fast asleep, but the thoughts of my evaluation still crowded my already full thoughts.


Next chapter is gonna be me! I get to write it! OH YEAH!!