The Twilight Saga Collection part 1(353)
“A slumber party?” I repeated, the suspicion finally settling in.
“Aren’t you excited?” she crowed.
I met her animated gaze for a long second.
“You’re kidnapping me, aren’t you?”
She laughed and nodded. “Till Saturday. Esme cleared it with Charlie; you’re staying with me two nights, and I will drive you to and from school tomorrow.”
I turned my face to the window, my teeth grinding together.
“Sorry,” Alice said, not sounding in the least bit penitent. “He paid me off.”
“How?” I hissed through my teeth.
“The Porsche. It’s exactly like the one I stole in Italy.” She sighed happily. “I’m not supposed to drive it around Forks, but if you want, we could see how long it takes to get from here to L.A. — I bet I could have you back by midnight.”
I took a deep breath. “I think I’ll pass,” I sighed, repressing a shudder.
We wound, always too fast, down the long drive. Alice pulled around to the garage, and I quickly looked over the cars. Emmett’s big jeep was there, with a shiny canary yellow Porsche between it and Rosalie’s red convertible.
Alice hopped out gracefully and went to stroke her hand along the length of her bribe. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
“Pretty over-the-top,” I grumbled, incredulous. “He gave you that just for two days of holding me hostage?”
Alice made a face.
A second later, comprehension came and I gasped in horror. “It’s for every time he’s gone, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
I slammed my door and stomped toward the house. She danced along next to me, still unrepentant.
“Alice, don’t you think this is just a little bit controlling? Just a tiny bit psychotic, maybe?”
“Not really.” She sniffed. “You don’t seem to grasp how dangerous a young werewolf can be. Especially when I can’t see them. Edward has no way to know if you’re safe. You shouldn’t be so reckless.”
My voice turned acidic. “Yes, because a vampire slumber party is the pinnacle of safety conscious behavior.”
Alice laughed. “I’ll give you a pedicure and everything,” she promised.
It wasn’t so bad, except for the fact that I was being held against my will. Esme brought Italian food — the good stuff, all the way from Port Angeles — and Alice was prepared with my favorite movies. Even Rosalie was there, quietly in the background. Alice did insist on the pedicure, and I wondered if she was working from a list — maybe something she’d compiled from watching bad sitcoms.
“How late do you want to stay up?” she asked when my toenails were glistening a bloody red. Her enthusiasm remained untouched by my mood.
“I don’t want to stay up. We have school in the morning.”
She pouted.
“Where am I supposed to sleep, anyway?” I measured the couch with my eyes. It was a little short. “Can’t you just keep me under surveillance at my house?”
“What kind of a slumber party would that be?” Alice shook her head in exasperation. “You’re sleeping in Edward’s room.”
I sighed. His black leather sofa was longer than this one. Actually, the gold carpet in his room was probably thick enough that the floor wouldn’t be half bad either.
“Can I go back to my place to get my things, at least?”
She grinned. “Already taken care of.”
“Am I allowed to use your phone?”
“Charlie knows where you are.”
“I wasn’t going to call Charlie.” I frowned. “Apparently, I have some plans to cancel.”
“Oh.” She deliberated. “I’m not sure about that.”
“Alice!” I whined loudly. “C’mon!”
“Okay, okay,” she said, flitting from the room. She was back in half a second, cell phone in hand. “He didn’t specifically prohibit this . . . ,” she murmured to herself as she handed it to me.
I dialed Jacob’s number, hoping he wasn’t out running with his friends tonight. Luck was with me — Jacob was the one to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jake, it’s me.” Alice watched me with expressionless eyes for a second, before she turned and went to sit between Rosalie and Esme on the sofa.
“Hi, Bella,” Jacob said, suddenly cautious. “What’s up?”
“Nothing good. I can’t come over Saturday after all.”
It was silent for a minute. “Stupid bloodsucker,” he finally muttered. “I thought he was leaving. Can’t you have a life when he’s gone? Or does he lock you in a coffin?”