Disclaimer: I own nothing. Good enough?

Summary: She's too shy, too scared, and too invisible to make a move. With the help of her pesky, no-business-minding best friends, can this closeted wall flower finally have the picture perfect popular princess she has admired from afar for three years? Or will religious fanatics, opinions, and high school put an end to something that could be beautiful before it even starts?

Closets Are For Clothes

"This isn't the year to be screwing around, Isabella. You're running out of time to impress Ivy League colleges." Dad says, stuffing more cheese ravioli into that stupid hole in his face. That stupid hole that spouts stupid, moronic crap. He swallows loudly. I cringe back, letting my own forkful fall to my plate. "I wont have you limiting your options now just because you've suddenly decided that you want to fit it," he scoffs.

I nod my head and look down at my plate. I pick back up my fork and cut my ravioli into microscopic pieces of nothing. I already knew the answer would be a resounding, echoing, fucking never ending "NO" but the disappointment is almost too much to bear.

No Alice.

No chance.

No motherfucking life.

"I don't think it's too bad, Charlie." My head and face shoot up from the down-frown and I look at my mother, colored in surprise. It's surprising because Mom never inserts her opinion. I look at Dad, at a loss for words.

Is she allowed to do that?

"She should get these high school experiences, don't you think?" My mother smiles at her dimwitted husband, in her oh-so innocent way. Father says nothing. He just stares. I feel like I am witnessing a car crash. I feel helpless as Mom's smile falters and she looks at me out of the corner of her eye. I don't know what to do.

"I mean...better she get them out of the way now, instead of having a drastic midlife crisis, right?" Mom has always warned me about poking the bear. Taunting the bull. Never upset Daddy, is life.

What is she doing?

Still, he says nothing. He does nothing. It's fucking frightening. "Uhm, I'm just saying, sweetie, that I don't want her to wake up one day, forty years old and wishing she had done things differently. Gone out more, made more friends..." She trails off at the scowl forming on my fathers face. That scowl that speaks volumes and volumes. That scowl that says, 'Who the fuck do you think you are?'

When he finally opens his mouth, I'm scared. I fear my father and for good reason. "Don't you undermine me, Renee," he threatens, death glare firmly in place. "Don't you dare ever undermine me. This is my damn house, my damn property, and my damn child. When I say no, you better fucking believe that that is the end of the discussion."

Mom nods and bows her head in submission and all I can think is I want reach across the table, grab his fat fucking head, and brutally beat it into his ravioli. And he isn't even finished yet.

"You want our daughter to go to some damn party? Why?" he demands. His voice is resounding in the small space. "I asked you a question, Renee. Why?"

"I told you why," she whispers pathetically. I feel my face growing hot with an anger I'll never be able to show or express in any way. And it only increase when he reaches across the table and hits Mom upside the head, not hard. But hurting her physically isn't the point.

He's putting her in her place.

"I want a good reason, Renee. Give me a good reason."

"I...I just think that Bella should be allowed to go. We know the Cullen's. There wont be any drinking...no roughhousing. I don't see the harm." Her voice is nothing but below a whisper and her lip trembles as she sniffles and DAMMIT I want to hit him so bad, I can feel my bones cracking with the strain to stay in place.

He reaches over and hits her again. "A good reason, Renee." He's so icy calm, calm-before-the-storm. "Give. Me. A. Good. Reason. Renee."

"She should have the privilege of spending time-"

slap "A good reason, Renee."

Mom cries a little and I die a little.

"I told you a good-"

slap "Try again, Renee." slap "C'mon." slap "You're suddenly so outspoken, give me another little speech, Renee." slap "Now." slap slap slap

"There isn't one," she finally sighs, sniffles, sobs, looking at me regretfully. I can feel the tears behind my eyes as I try to stop myself from glaring at the MotherFucker.

"That's what a I thought." He smirks, looks at me and reaches over, grabbing my hand and placing a kiss on it. I don't flinch away. My muscles are wound too tight for such a movement as that. "Now that we have your mothers opinion," he rolls his eyes, further degrading the broken woman. "do you understand? No parties."

"Yes, Dad. I understand." He smiles brighter and kisses my hand again. I'm disgusted by him but, of course, I say nothing. What could I say, except...

"May I please be excused? I have a lot of reading homework to do."

"That's what I like to hear," Father grunts as he stands his fat-stereotypical-cop-ass up from the dining table. "I'm workin' late tonight," he sighs and bends down to kiss his stepford wife on her forehead, then does the same to his dutiful daughter – the perfect fucking family, ha fucking ha. "No funny business." he warns, eyeing us both.

He just leaves with a smile. Like he isn't the biggest piece of shit in Forks.

When I hear the car leave the driveway, I turn to Mom, who is picking up all the dishes. I try to help her but she swats my hands away and smiles sadly at me. "Mommy," I'm almost crying, but I wont. Crying gets me nowhere. It doesn't even make me feel better anymore. "I'm sorry. I'm so so so so sorry. I shouldn't have even asked. I just wanted-"

"Hush, little girl." She grabs me in her arms and I cant help but fall into her. She's my haven. "It isn't a crime to want things, Bella. It isn't a crime to party," she laughs and pulls me away from her gently, kissing the spot on my forehead my father did just a minute before, washing away his negative with her super charged-positive. I do the same to her and she grins at me. "You better call Jasper now. You don't have much time left to get a little shopping done before the party."

I look at her like she's gone crazy, because I honestly think she has. "Uhm, what? Dad said...he said...what?"

"Forget what your father said and listen to what I am saying." She grabs me again, firmly this time and looks into my eyes with her matching ones. "You're denied too many things, but I will never deny you a social life. That's just cruel. I don't want you to make a habit out of partying and being stupid, but I want you to have fun times to remember tonight, okay? Have fun, get down with your bad self, let loose, whatever," she waves her hand, laughing in a way that sounds odd coming from her. "Just. Have. Some. Damn fun for once."

I don't want to make her feel like she has no say, but I can't help but point out the obvious. "But Dad-"

"Wont find out," she stresses, pushing me backwards and forwards with every word. "As long as you are back before 1am. He usually comes home around 3 or 4 in the morning, but just to be on the safe side..."

"Really?" I smile slightly, not wanting to get my hopes up that this whole thing wont come crashing down on me and my mom.

"Yes. Call Jasper and GTFO."

"Mother!" I laugh, shocked by her new found behavior. "Where did you learn that?" The better question would be, 'Why the fucksickle is she using text talk in real life?'

"My new friend. Phyllis." That's all she says before she hip bumps me over to the wall phone. I quickly, excitedly, call a shrieking Jasper – he and Edward are just not on good terms since the whole Grammy incident – and fill him in on what's going on. He says 1am is a good time to stop when popping a party cherry. Whatever-the-hell that means.

"I love to go shopping. I love to freak out salespeople. They ask me if they can help, and I say, "Have you got anything I'd like?" Then they ask me what size I need, and I say, "Extra medium." ~Stephen Wright

"I just don't like your body," Jasper sighs, shaking his head.

"Yeah, well, you're a fucking faggot, so..." I say rudely, but seriously... the fuck?! I turn away from him and walk back to the cart my clothes are sitting on, swiping them into my arms roughly. I am so fucking done with this shit. I should have just listened to my father and stayed home and done my homework like the good little nerd I am.

"Izzy-boo," Jas laughs, coming up behind me. He pulls the ugly piss-yellow dress from my body and grabbing my clothes from my hands. I shriek, covering myself. "You have a wonderful bod, baby. It's just hard to put nice clothes on, ya know?"

"I think we've reached a point in our relationship where we are just too damn comfortable with each other." I growl at him, yanking my clothes from his hands. I slip my t shirt over my head and try to control the stray statics with fumbling phalanges.

"Face it, B," Edward comes out of flicking nowhere, as usual, smacking me on my cotton undied-booty. He grabs a handful and I swat him away, blushing a fire like no other.

Yeah. We are definitely too damn close.

"You have an ass the size of Pluto and titties you need a nipple-detector to find. You're disproportionate, but you're a doll. Embrace it, sweetheart." He walks to Jasper, holding out a rose, his way of apologizing for being...Edward. Jasper tries to hide his grin as he snatches the perfect-petal-pretty rose.

"Exactly. We just need something to fit over your ass and a bra to enhance your almost breasts. Kay?" Jasper grabs my arm and hauls me back into the dressing room. I feel like blowing the rape whistle my father gave me, but that's probably offensive.

It's just a few minutes before the kids of Forks High are supposed come tumbling through the front door of Edwards semi-mansion and I am freaking the fuck out. Like, for seriously, I'm freaking the FUCK out.

Jasper finally found me the perfect outfit. His words, not mine – I'd never call this monstrosity perfect. Or even acceptable. My poor Gramma is far past rolling in her grave. She's straight up banging on the coffin, threatening me to take this slut-fit off before she pulls me out of the house by my ear.

I know it.

That sadistic bastard shoved me into too-damn-tight white lace boy shorts and a matching push up bra, to enhance my not-even-big-enough-to-call-titties. The bra barely helps, but it hurts like a bitch and they say beauty is pain, right? So I must be fucking gorgeous right about now.

The only thing covering the wedgie inducing panties is a very short, very tight, very berry slutty, high-waist skirt. The black and white stripes are vertical. Apparently that is going to 'balance me out some.' My shoes are acceptable, I guess. They're black ankle boots with a chunky heel so I wont fall on my ass. They have pointless cuffs around the ankles, that Edward says gives me extra SPs – style points. Ridiculous, if you ask me.

We couldn't find a suitable shirt in the whole mall so I'm currently stuffed into Edwards 12 year old sister, Vicki's white long sleeved stretch shirt that stops just below my rib cage. I've never felt so exposed in my life. I should be punished for this.

I look like a whore.

The end touches are red and black feather earrings, a black snake ring that wraps around my middle finger, and my hair put in a messy ponytail held by one of Vicki's ugly red ribbons. Jas says I don't need makeup, just hemorrhoid cream – for my eyes, he assures me.

Insulting, yes.

Miracle working, fuck yes.

"You look ready to fuck," Edward smiles and winks at me. I slap him. Hard. I've had enough crap for one day and the dickhead deserved it. He's not even fazed as he walks over to his door and yells down the stairs to his parents and sister to, "Please just leave already! Please! People are gonna be here soon, dammit! You promised!"

"Alright, Alright," Esme laughs. I wrap up in Edward's blue pullover and join Jedward out on the balcony of the stairs to say goodbye. Vicki is pissed as usual and flips us all the bird before Esme scoops her up and runs her giggling daughter to the car.

Carlisle is the last to leave, and before he does, he turns to us and gives us the peace sign, his eyes red with his home grown hey-man-God-planted-it-for-us-to-enjoy weed. The Cullen Elders are a bunch of fucking dippy hippies, free love, one love and I love them for it. They're so free and accepting and don't care what people think about that.

My dad hates them. My mom spends almost as much time here as I do. Or she used to. Before she met her young new friend, Phyllis.

Carlisle keeps the door open as he leaves, hopping into the passenger seat of Esme's uglier than beautiful VW.

I start to panic as soon as I hear the motor of an obnoxious high school car pulling into the driveway.

"Be cool, B," Edward warns me as the first guest arrives. And he does so after the second, third, fourth, fifth, tenth, thirtieth, I've lost count.

I'm feeling claustrophobic.

"Lesbian existence compromises both the breaking of a taboo and the rejection of a compulsory way of life. It is also a direct or indirect attack on the male right of access to women. ~Adrienne Rich.

I feel like my tummy is going to lurch into my throat, then backtrack and fall out of my ass. She's right there. Right. Fucking. There. In the same house as me. The same stifling hot room.

Maybe I'm just hot...

Oh, God, she's reached the maximum of ridiculously-delicious... hot and, God...I want to run across the room and take her into my arms and show her what love looks like, feels like, acts like. But I can't. She is surrounded by half the people at the party. She is wrapped up in Tyler Crowley's super obviously steroid arms. Not to mention the fact that I am super glued to the motherfucking floor – struck stupid and dumb in awe and want.

My mind registers only Alice. My eyes look upon only Alice. My thoughts are only Alice. My motherfucking sinful heart is stutter-beating only Alice...Alice...Alice. A-A-A-Alice. I can feel my veins pulsing with every beat. I can feel my fingertips burning and tingling and twitching with every intake of breath. I think I might be having an Alice induced seizure. And it's the most painful pleasure I've ever experienced to the date. I don't know if I want it to stop or increase in power and knock me out of my star-struck-stuck-in-tar shoes.

I take my eyes off of Everything-Anyone-Will-Ever-Wish-To-Be to search the eyes of all the party goers, are they seeing what I am feeling? I see some of them looking my way – they notice me. I force my legs to stumble, I trip my way back until my back hits the wall.

I'm a wallflower. I'm blending in with the scenery...stop seeing me! It's be a whole lot easier if the walls weren't covered in all these damn murals.

This whole thing – this ridiculous party – is useless. The only person I want to see me is too busy to pay me mind. But everyone else...They fucking see me and they wont stop looking. And I know what they're all thinking.

They're thinking:

'Who's that?'

'Who let a loser crash the party?'

'She doesn't belong here!'

''She doesn't BELONG!'

They see me. They see through me. I have to leave.

I look around once more, trying to find my Jedward, but the room is too sardine-can packed. I'm sandwiched between a wall and grinding bodies. I'm suffocating. I'm gonna die here. I have to leave. I force my way through if-you-can-even-call-it-dancing-might-as-well-cut-to-the-chase-they're-all-fucking-with-clothes-on bodies and beeline for the front door. I'll just have to call Jas and Edward later and let them know I had to disperse.

I have to leave! These people are seeing me for who I am and they don't like it. They can tell what I am. The sirens are going off. I can feel it.

I have to-

"Hey, Girl." I stop with my hand on the doorknob of my Saving Grace, eyes wide and watching as she she she approaches me from the side. She's smiling shyly, unsure, watching me like I am a small doe-deer, ready to scamper at the first sign of a threat. Which I guess I kind of am...

She's acknowledging me. She-her-she-the ONE is looking me in my eyes – right into the windows to my fucking soul and I can't look away. She notices me. The air is getting thick. All sound other than mine and Alice's breathing, ceases. All bodies become a blur behind the beautiful Angelic-Alice figure standing just a few terrible inches next to me.

I have to cross my arms over my chest to keep from reaching out and pulling Picture Perfection into my greedy arms.

"The party has barely even started yet and you're already leaving?" she asks, tilting her head to the side, smiling a little lighter-hearted-than-before at me.

Heat. Rush of heat. She's talking to me again. This time she wants an answer. How do I answer? How do I speak? Only in my dreams has she ever spoken to me. And even in my dreams I'm a mute. I can't talk to her...but...I'll try...?

"Humm, I..I...need air...so hot." I wipe the sweat from my brow and decide to stop talking before I accidentally let it slip that she is the source of so-hot heat running in, over, and around my body.

"It is a bit hot," she sighs, fanning her face with her so-fucking-small-and-pretty hand. A large pink diamond ring on her pointing finger catches my eyes and I smile slightly. It's an epic piece of body decoration and I can't help but think about how she would look. Stripped of her dress. Left in nothing but her black booties and pink jewelry...

Don't think about that.

Bad Bella.

I see Alice now fanning her hand in front of my face, giving me the 'Are you stupid' look. My cheeks light on fire 'cause I am so fucking stupid, I'm ruining everything, and come back to reality. "I'm sorry?"

"S'okay," she giggles. That sound. That sound. "I just asked if you'd like some company. I could use the fresh air." She looks over her shoulder and I follow her eyes. I see an incoming Tyler Crowley, smiling at Alice and something in me, deep down in my belly – and maybe somewhere else – snaps. Before thinking too much about it I grab her wrist and have the front door open with one violent jerk of my arm.

"I'd love some company!" I say hastily, hauling both our asses out that door so fast it probably looked like we had just disappeared into thin air. I make sure I close the door before I turn back to The-Her.

"Hey." I wave oh-so stupidly. I sour-smile and tuck my arm behind my back, playing with the tips of my long hair.

"Hi," she giggles and God I wish she'd stop it stop it stop it! That sound does things to me that I can't...I just CAN'T. Thankfully, she knocks the cuteness the fuck off and walks over to the railing, looking out into the could-be-would-be-beautiful-if-just-a-little-effort-went-into-it woods. I follow, always two steps behind, because what else can I do?

It's silent – comfortably so – as we stand on the porch, looking over the side at the large-kinda-scary expanse of Forks forest. Then, she speaks. Her voice is saying things to me again, and I just can't seem to keep up. Every time she says something, I lose my shit becausesheistalkingtoME.

"I'm sorry," I try to laugh and fail. I cackle. I cackle at the most beautiful thing in the world. I fucking cackle. Fuck. "Could you repeat that?" I look at her and she is smiling so maybe I am not scaring her off with my...me-ness.

"I've never seen you before, I don't think. I thought I knew everybody in little old Forks. Did you just move here or something?"

I know that I already knew that everyone in school didn't-doesn't-never will know me, but hearing her say it out loud hurts and stings and ouches a bit in the tender heart area. Just because it is her. But I suck it up and force a smile – not hard when you're looking into the eyes of an Angel.

"I've always lived here. Well, as long as I can remember, at least. We actually go to school together. You probably know my dad, Chief Swan?"

Shock crosses her face – Her baby blues widen, her plump pouter falls into the perfect shape of an 'O' and naughty things enter my icky mind. "Oh...," she sighs sadly. "now I feel bad."

"Don't, I like to stick to the shadows," I clear up quickly. The look of despair on her face makes me ache. "I only came here tonight because Jasper and Edward forced me."

I could really use a drink right about now...

"Oh, you're friends with Jedward?" she giggle-snorts, her distress melting away right before my eyes – like the last little drippity drops of a strawberry Popsicle in the summer sun. She turns around, throws her hands behind her and grabs the porch railing, lifting her tiny body up onto it in one swift graceful move. "I like them. I think they're cute together."

She swings her legs, back and forth, back and forth. Her ridiculous black multi-buckle booties slipping off her tiny feet just a little bit.

I'm looking at her legs, how can I not, but I hear her words this time. I register them and I see my in. so I fucking take it. Sue me.

"They're my best friends," I tell her, hoping that maybe if she knows how close we are, she'll like me too. We're kind of a package deal. Buy two, get the third one free. "We've been best friends for, like, ever."

"That's cool," she smiles and nods. She doesn't look too impressed by my namedropping. "I'm Alice, by the way." Duh. "What's your name?" You care? She cares? Of course she cares. She's Alice. If there is a more caring being, it is God himself.

"I know who you are," I tell her deliberately. Of course I know who you are. Who doesn't? "I'm Bella." Wanna be be my boo?

"That's a pretty name, Bella," she almost purrs. Maybe I am hearing things, or seeing things the way I want to see them, because there is no way Alice Hale is flirting with me. "Kinda rolls off the tongue," she giggles – again. I want to grab her, shake her, and beg her STOP it. Every time she giggles, I cant help but imagine her making that same sound as I trail my tongue over her...her clit.

It's probably pretty...too pretty to be touched by someone as unworthy as me.

"You don't talk much, do ya?" she asks after – probably a long awkward silence on my part. Time has no meaning to me now. It could stop for all I care. I'm talking to the fucking Alice.

"I guess not..." People usually don't notice. It's weird having it pointed out.

"That's okay," she says, her eyes boring into my own, sinking me in deeper and deeper and deeper than ever before. She doesn't know what she does to me, but she needs to stop before I pounce on her. This kind of torture is exceptional. "I talk too much. We can balance each other out."

I whole-heartedly agree, sunshine.

I just smile and nod my head, taking a hesitant step toward the railing where she is perched. After just a moment of thinking about it, I hop up – less graceful than a toddler on ice – and sit my ass right next to hers.

So close.

So motherfucking close I can feel the heat radiating from the knits on her tight gray sweater dress that clings in all the right places and falls off her shoulders, her delicate shoulders. And My-God-help-me I find shoulders sexy. It's a pretty kind of torture. I've never felt more relaxed and on edge in my life. If only I could reach out and touch her, wrap my arm around her waist, pull her into my side, and kiss her until not even I can tell where her lips begin and mine end.

She sighs and trails her hands over her knees, to her thighs, and back again again again and again. My eyes are moving with them and my hands are having a twitching fit. It's quiet. I don't say anything. I just sit and wait for her to speak.

After more minutes than I can possibly be expected to stand, I look away from her hands on her legs and into her eyes that are smiling at me. I know I'm caught, but I don't think I'm in trouble. I bite my lip and will her to speak. She doesn't. She doesn't get the chance.

The front door slams open, both our heads turn to look at the intruder like we just got caught with our naughty hands deep inside the cookie jar. I know why I'm feeling guilty, but why is Alice?

"Ally Cat! Baby, where you been?" That giant gorilla-man-thing is holding a bottle of something he isn't of legal age to touch and is quickly bounding and forcing his way into our tightly sealed bubble, popping it and I've never been so pissed in my life.

"Oh, hey, Ty," Alice smiles tightly and my heart feels sensational. She doesn't want to talk to him. She wants to talk to me. "I've just been out here with Bella."

"Who?" He finally sees me sitting nearly on top of Alice and he smiles...at me? "Oh, hey. You new to Forks?"


That's all I have to say to him. He doesn't know it, but he's my enemy. He's on my shit list, right after Michael Newton and my father. I jump down from the railing and nearly face plant, only to be caught in the arms of the motherfucker trying to get into the pants of my... Her. I quickly brush him off. "Gotta go find Jasper," I mumble and chase ass out of there and back into the suffocating house.

She doesn't call me back. I don't expect her to, but I wish she would.

I didn't know that this story would receive such attention so quickly. So I didn't have a second chapter ready. I know where this story is going, but I'm writing this shit as I go along.

Peace and Love