"To me, Alice, you are my sister."
"Words!" she growled.
"Fine, you can come. There won't be much to see."
She was still grimacing.
"What?" I demanded.
"How much do you love me, Bella?"
"Why?"
She stared at me with pleading eyes, her long black eyebrows slanting up in the middle and pulling together, her lips trembling at the corners. It was a heart-breaking expression.
"Please, please, please," she whispered. "Please, Bella, please-if you really love me . . . Please let me do your wedding."
"Aw, Alice!" I groaned, pulling away and standing up. "No! Don't do this to me."
"If you really, truly love me, Bella."
I folded my arms across my chest. "That is so unfair. And Edward kind of already used that one on me."
"I'll bet Edward would like it better if you did this traditionally, though he'd never tell you that. And Esme-think what it would mean to her!"
I groaned. "I'd rather face the newborns alone."
"I'll owe you for a decade."
"You'd owe me for a century!"
Her eyes glowed. "Is that a yes?"
"No! I don't want to do this!"
"You won't have to do anything but walk a few yards and then repeat after the minister."
"Ugh! Ugh, ugh!"
"Please?" She started bouncing in place. "Please, please, please, please, please?"
"I'll never, never ever forgive you for this, Alice."
"Yay!" she squealed, clapping her hands together.
"That's not a yes!"
"But it will be," she sang.
"Edward!" I yelled, stalking out of the garage. "I know you're listening. Get over here." Alice was right behind me, still clapping.
"Thanks so much, Alice," Edward said acidly, coming from behind me. I turned to let him have it, but his expression was so worried and upset that I couldn't speak my complaints. I threw my arms around him instead, hiding my face, just in case the angry moisture in my eyes made it look like I was crying.
"Vegas," Edward promised in my ear.
"Not a chance," Alice gloated. "Bella would never do that to me. You know, Edward, as a brother, you are sometimes a disappointment."
"Don't be mean," I grumbled at her. "He's trying to make me happy, unlike you."
"I'm trying to make you happy, too, Bella. It's just that I know better what will make you happy . . . in the long run. You'll thank me for this. Maybe not for fifty years, but definitely someday."
"I never thought I'd see the day where I'd be willing to take a bet against you, Alice, but it has arrived."
She laughed her silvery laugh. "So, are you going to show me the ring?"
I grimaced in horror as she grabbed my left hand and then dropped it just as quickly.
"Huh. I saw him put it on you . . . Did I miss something?" she asked. She concentrated for half a second, furrowing her brow, before she answered her own questions. "No. Wedding's still on."
"Bella has issues with jewelry," Edward explained.
"What's one more diamond? Well, I guess the ring has lots of diamonds, but my point is that he's already got one on-"
"Enough, Alice!" Edward cut her off suddenly. The way he glared at her . . . he looked like a vampire again. "We're in a hurry."
"I don't understand. What's that about diamonds?" I asked.
"We'll talk about it later," Alice said. "Edward is right-you'd better get going. You've got to set a trap and make camp before the storm comes." She frowned, and her expression was anxious, almost nervous. "Don't forget your coat, Bella. It seems . . . unseasonably cold."
"I've already got it," Edward assured her.
"Have a nice night," she told us in farewell.
It was twice as far to the clearing as usual; Edward took a long detour, making sure my scent would be nowhere near the trail Jacob would hide later. He carried me in his arms, the bulky backpack in my usual spot.
He stopped at the farthest end of the clearing and set me on my feet.
"All right. Just walk north for a ways, touching as much as you can. Alice gave me a clear picture of their path, and it won't take long for us to intersect it."
"North?"
He smiled and pointed out the right direction.
I wandered into the woods, leaving the clear yellow light of the strangely sunny day in the clearing behind me. Maybe Alice's blurred sight would be wrong about the snow. I hoped so. The sky was mostly clear, though the wind whipped furiously through the open spaces. In the trees it was calmer, but much too cold for June-even in a long-sleeved shirt with a thick sweater over the top, there were goose bumps on my arms. I walked slowly, trailing my fingers over anything close enough: the rough tree bark, the wet ferns, the moss-covered rocks.