Dying Doesn't Seem So Cruel
That's What Friends Are For
I put my book down on the mattress and headed to the first floor. My mother smiled brightly, handed me a bag of Gummi-Bears.
Uh-oh "What's going on?"
"Your father got a promotion at work."
"Congratulations, Dad."
"Thanks. You'll love the city. It's supposed to be sunny, beautiful. And the neighbourhood will be great."
"Wait. Back up. What city? What neighbourhood?"
"Dahlia, we're moving to Georgia."
"No!"
"Yeah! Isn't it great?"
"No, it's not."
"What?"
"I don't want to move. I love Forks. I have friends."
"You'll make new ones."
"No, Dad. I don't want new ones. I love the ones I have now."
"Dahl---"
"Can't I finish out my final year and a half of high school here?"
"This is a wonderful opportunity. I can't turn it down."
"Dahlia," my mother pleaded, "calm down."
"Can't I stay behind? I'll come visit in the summer."
"No."
"Please."
"No. That's my final answer. End of discussion."
I stared at my father's stern face set in determination. "You guys suck."
I grabbed my cordless phone on my way back to my room and dialed. After two rings, someone answered.
"Hello?"
"Is Christie there?"
"No, I'm sorry. She's out with Kyle."
Go figure. "Okay. Can you tell her Dahlia called?"
"Of course. Bye."
"Bye."
I searched through the stack of papers on my desk before finding the one I wanted. The seven digits, written in Alice's elegant script, glared up at me.
"Hello?"
"Jas? Can you come get me?"
Carlisle embraced me once I entered the Cullen household. "What's wrong?"
"Dad got a promotion."
"That's great."
"Not so much. The promotion means . . . we have to move."
"Oh, Dahlia."
I began crying, and Jasper left the room. Cold slender fingers touched my hair softly, and Alice smiled sadly. She led me to her room and sat with me on her leather couch. In the four years I had known her, I had never seen the inside of her room. A book shelf held a large array of books, and a computer was set up in the corner. A stereo system was playing some sort of techno music quietly; I leaned farther into Alice's embrace.
"I don't want to go."
"We don't want you to, either."
"How can I convince my parents to let me stay."
"We'll help you."
"Would you really?"
"That's what friends are for."
Uh-oh "What's going on?"
"Your father got a promotion at work."
"Congratulations, Dad."
"Thanks. You'll love the city. It's supposed to be sunny, beautiful. And the neighbourhood will be great."
"Wait. Back up. What city? What neighbourhood?"
"Dahlia, we're moving to Georgia."
"No!"
"Yeah! Isn't it great?"
"No, it's not."
"What?"
"I don't want to move. I love Forks. I have friends."
"You'll make new ones."
"No, Dad. I don't want new ones. I love the ones I have now."
"Dahl---"
"Can't I finish out my final year and a half of high school here?"
"This is a wonderful opportunity. I can't turn it down."
"Dahlia," my mother pleaded, "calm down."
"Can't I stay behind? I'll come visit in the summer."
"No."
"Please."
"No. That's my final answer. End of discussion."
I stared at my father's stern face set in determination. "You guys suck."
I grabbed my cordless phone on my way back to my room and dialed. After two rings, someone answered.
"Hello?"
"Is Christie there?"
"No, I'm sorry. She's out with Kyle."
Go figure. "Okay. Can you tell her Dahlia called?"
"Of course. Bye."
"Bye."
I searched through the stack of papers on my desk before finding the one I wanted. The seven digits, written in Alice's elegant script, glared up at me.
"Hello?"
"Jas? Can you come get me?"
Carlisle embraced me once I entered the Cullen household. "What's wrong?"
"Dad got a promotion."
"That's great."
"Not so much. The promotion means . . . we have to move."
"Oh, Dahlia."
I began crying, and Jasper left the room. Cold slender fingers touched my hair softly, and Alice smiled sadly. She led me to her room and sat with me on her leather couch. In the four years I had known her, I had never seen the inside of her room. A book shelf held a large array of books, and a computer was set up in the corner. A stereo system was playing some sort of techno music quietly; I leaned farther into Alice's embrace.
"I don't want to go."
"We don't want you to, either."
"How can I convince my parents to let me stay."
"We'll help you."
"Would you really?"
"That's what friends are for."