Story Summary: How much can Rosalie Hale hate that nothing slip of a girl named Bella Swan? Hm, I believe the phrase "a lot" would earn me the "Understatement Award of the Year." Well, good thing Rosalie is the zenith of objectivity and equanimity. Just ask her.

Chapter Summary: First Edward has to expose us all to save that human mouse of a girl from that van, and now Alice wants to "chat"? About her soon to be "BFF"? What else could go wrong? Well, at least we're going to NYC, so it can't be all that bad … can it?

Setting: Occurs the weekend following "Phenomenon," ch 3 Twilight/Midnight Sun. January 28-30, 2005.

I can't believe this. I just can't believe this.

It was bad enough that Edward had to expose us all with his heroic stunt by throwing himself in front of Tyler Crowley's van, leaving an oh-so-perfect Edward imprint on its side that who had to cover? Edward? Responsible Edward? No. Emmett had to cover.

But then, it got better. Did Edward break her little sparrow neck after seeing that she saw everything? I mean, it would have been so easy: he could have just leaned against her such that her vehicle (that heap can't be a truck, can it?) would snap that Swan's neck of hers. But did he do this? No. He had to ride to the hospital in the ambulance with her! And for what purpose? To hold her hand? To gaze into her eyes? To go for a lip-lock?

Well, at least Edward has finally found a girl desperate enough to overlook his complete lack of personality. Or, actually, he does have a personality …

Is 'assholeinity' a word?

But then when I tried to talk reason into those imbeciles who dare to call themselves a 'vampire family' (have they no shame?), what do they decide to do?

'Oh, Rosalie, you're overreacting …' Yeah? Bullshit! '… the human girl told Edward she wouldn't say anything, and if Edward says …'

That's what always fucking happens. 'If Edward says …' If Edward says 'boo,' all the other Cullens just fall right in line behind him, marching over the cliff's edge, drinking the Kool-Aid and calling it champagne, for goodness sake!

And can it get worse from there?

It did. Because right after that 'meeting' — meeting? More like: Edward/Alice-browbeating-session! — what does Eddiekins do? He runs right off to hunt? No, he runs right off to stalk the little human that he has 'no feelings for whatsoever'!

God! Edward drooling over that brown-brown slip of a 'girl'? I mean, is she even a girl? She looks more like a pre-teen boy than anything else! How old is she anyway? Eight? Six? Has she even had her first period yet? And, if she has, could she have it during biology lab with Edward, please? The ensuing bloodbath would be less conspicuous than what 'Here I come to save the day!' Edward-Do-Right did in the school parking lot!

But it gets better!

Because the very next day in school, does Edward cover our tracks at all? Does he say: 'I think she hit her head pretty hard. She was babbling complete nonsense. I won't be surprised if she dies in the hospital or spends the rest of her life a mental retard …'

But does he say this at all?


The buzz in the lunch room was 'Oh, Cullen saved Bella, and she's just fine and he's really worried about her. Hey, Jess, you ever see Cullen so crushing on a girl like that?'

Which was entirely mystifying for me in the first place. I mean: 'crushing' on this girl? What was there to crush on? I mean, it's not that she wasn't a mental retard to begin with … I mean, the most eloquent thing I've heard her say so far is … hm, actually nothing comes to mind except 'duh,' and that's not all that eloquent upon reflection …

I would actually be doing the world a service by eliminating that girl. I mean, she's obviously unloved by her mother who is remarried and who wants some time with her new husband away from a whining clingy teenaged girl who acts like a three-year-old. And nobody with any sense likes her at all here in Forks.

Not that you'd find anybody in Forks with any sense in their heads. I mean, really! Edward? Jessica Stanley? Michael Newton?


Well, there is Alice. And I thought there were some brains in her head, although the elevator doesn't always go to the top floor. I mean, if you look at it, vampires with gifts usually need them to compensate for lacking ability or capacity elsewhere.

Case in point: Edward Cullen, AKA Stupid-head.

I mean, the reason that he can hear everybody else's thoughts is because his head would be vacuous otherwise.

Edward Cullen, AKA America's Oldest Virgin.

Which is probably why he's crushing on the girl. She isn't hard on the eyes — I'll grant her that, that is, if she learned to fucking put on some clothes that didn't scream grunge! — and her own eyes have been doing nothing if not communicating with Edward the whole time. I mean: that's why that little ditz didn't get out of the way of the van, because she was so busy giving Edward the 'fuck me' look that she probably would have missed the ground if she tripped like she so conveniently does whenever her spider sense tingles telling her Edward is looking at her.

Which would be all the time.

Totally mystifying: the both of them. And that would be fine, except for the fact that she's human. And humans do one thing: avoid us. But not this one. Jessica Stanley got the message when she approached Edward back in ninth grade. She got it right from the horse's, or Edward's, mouth, and my little dig afterward in the locker room of: 'he's out of your league, sweetheart' cemented the message.

You should have seen her bawl to her mommy the rest of that week.

Spineless pussy.

And slut. Because next thing you know, she's following around that Newton puppy-dog.

At least she learned her lesson and stayed with her own kind.

But this Bella.

Hm. There's one who hasn't learned her lessons. I mean, I marked it, clear as day — or as night, in our case — we walked in the school cafeteria and there was the new girl and she looked at us …

… and she connected all the dots.

She knows.

She maybe doesn't know what we are exactly, but she knew from the first minute that we are other. And unlike the rest of humanity that put that thought aside and got on with their empty and meaningless lives, she pondered this in her heart and turned it over in her mind. I saw her do that in the cafeteria, and I saw her put it all together when the van didn't put her together with her truck like it should have.

She knows. And we know. We know the rule. The one rule: humanity must not know, and any who do must die. I didn't make this rule, but I know its there for good reason. Once the rabble are alerted to something out of the humdrum they become restless and uneasy.

This meant a culling in the past, and the Volturi would orchestrate something to have that done. But now, in this modern day and age with this modern media and with these modern weapons, … well, a rabble rousing is not so easily dismissed, destroyed nor silenced.

Bella Swan is trouble.

Bella Swan must die.

Anybody with any brains in their head would see this. So I entirely expected smitten Edward to miss this vital consequence of logic, but I thought I need merely present the facts and let the matter be handled.

What I didn't expect is how it was handled. But with Edward working one side of the table with Alice working the other, all that was left was me looking aghast.

I have to hand it to those Bobbsey Twins: they sure know how to run the table.

Well, fine! So let the Volturi come and destroy us all! I warned them! When we're all a big pile of ash, then they'll bemoan their fate and say, 'Oh, we should have listened to Rosalie!' but then it will be too late!

Just as it always happened when I warned the family of any …

Silent footsteps by my door, preceded by Alice's valencia scent, and then followed by the rasping sound of paper sliding under my door.

Alice's footsteps retreated.

I sat at my vanity, combing my hair, as is my wont when I'm thinking, and I debated with myself whether I should debate with myself how long I should wait before investigating that paper. I knew I would look at it eventually, so it was positioning then. I can't have Alice know that I'm at all interested in her latest scheme by getting up instantly, can I?

But then, since I'm going to look, anyway …

I sighed, put my brush down and went to the door, looking down at the paper.

It was an itinerary: a chartered jet to New York City, … departing tonight.

I sighed. If Alice thought she could buy my good will so easily …

Okay, I'd go, but I refuse to enjoy it!

Well, I try not to enjoy it too much, anyway. But that Alice is going to get a piece of my mind away from the boys. I'd enjoy that part.

A lot.

… Hm, and, well, there's the shopping. And what to wear? What to wear? Finally I'd get to give up pretending to be a silly teen in high school wearing silly teen clothes and really wear something to knock them all dead! Hm. Velvet? Leather? A silk gown? And the shoes! In NYC at night you could take the subway, dressed to the nines and not even get a second look.

I turned from the paper on the floor and headed toward my closet.

Chapter End Notes:

[1] So, do you recall in my story "Our First Time" how Rosalie admitted to Bella that she hated her … a lot? (right there in chapter 4 when Bella makes a ... request to Rosalie). So, are you getting the vibe from this story that when Rosalie said she hated Bella a lot, she meant it? Isn't Rosie-toesies so cute hating on the new girl in school whose only crime is not getting crushed by Tyler's van? Ever notice how sometimes somebody, well, not you, but one of your friends hates on so much later becomes their … well, you hear them say "God! I hate her so much, I just wanna snuggle with her and kiss her all over!" And you're like: "Bha-what?" Of course they don't say that, but maybe they aren't even aware they want that until you see them holding hands and then you're all like: "Aw, so cute!" Well, so that's Twilight in a nutshell (well, the Real Twilight) and so this story came from Rosalie's comment to Bella (that she hated her) and was sketched in ch 7 of "Our First Time."

Um, please don't mention to Rosalie that I may have hinted that her toesies are rosies. I mean "Moses supposes his toeses are roses, but Moses supposes erroneously. For Moses, he knowses his toeses aren't roses, as Moses supposes his toeses to be." And I make no claim as to what Rosalie thinks about her toeses … I mean toes … or that she even thinks about her toes much at all.

Now, Bella … well, she thinks quite a bit about Rosalie's, and I quote, 'cute toes' but that's another story entirely, and not even mine, and in much need of updating (hint-hint, somebody reading this note, hint-hint, we love you, bb, plz update soon, huh?)