I was not going to go to school.

No. I wasn't.

And that was that. If I said I didn't want to go to school then I was NOT going to school.

"Bella, get up." I felt Alice shake me gently. "C'mon, already."

"Mumph," was all I managed to get out, because I had my feather-filled pillow over my head and the comforter over the pillow.

After a long pause, Alice said, "You're language is the one I can't understand." She ripped the covers off of me. "Why are you on the couch, anyways? What were you doing last night?"

I sat up and ran a hand through my messy hair. "Trying to sleep," I told her impatiently. "Now give me the blankets back!"

Another long pause. "You were trying to sleep," she repeated.

"Mumph."

She sighed heavily and dramatically. "Fine then. You spend the day... sleeping. While you're at it, how about you order some pizza?" She snorted. "And then eat it?"

I ducked back under my pillow. "Maybe I will!"

"You want me to pick up your homework for you?"

"No."

"Okayyyy." She dragged the word out. "Are you sure you want to stay in bed? Won't you get bored?"

I would have laughed, but I couldn't even force a smile. "If I get bored then I'll do what you suggested and order in some food. And watch wrestling." I peered out at her from under the blanket. "Try and get drunk on beer or something."

Alice looked like she desperately wanted to say something to me, but was holding back. She hesitated. "Er... okay, Bells. You... have a good time today, then. And, you know... good luck."

And with that she disappeared out the door.

Once I was sure she was gone, I threw back the blanket and stood up, not wobbling one bit. I walked up the stairs—I had the whole day—and made sure everybody was out of the house. Carlisle was working, Esme was out shopping, and the rest of them were at school by now.

You know what I wanted? An extremely painful hangover. I had never actually experienced one of those before. I wondered what it felt like.

Plus, it would probably get my mind off... everything.

I shook myself mentally. I couldn't think about Everything. If I thought about it all, then I'd feel like crying, and then when nothing came, I'd just go into that weird depression mode.

Once I was in my room, I sat down at my desk and scrambled through the top left drawer, looking for that one piece of paper. After taking out three packages of printer paper (don't ask me), ten or so pens and pencils (I needed a lot, since I had a bad habit of loosing them), and tons and tons of gum wrappers (another bad habit), I found it.

The List.

Chewing on my lower lip, I crossed out the fifth thing on The List: Sleep Through the Night. I didn't know what I had been thinking, even trying it out. Of course it wouldn't work. Most of these things on this list were impossible.

But I had to try, anyways. For him.

I peered down at number six. In his elegant handwriting, it said, Eat Ten Crab Apples All at Once.

At first I just stared at it. What? Eat ten crab apples?

What kind of number six was that? I was thinking it would be something wiser; more daring. Something like: Dive Off Golden Gate Bridge, or: Sing Along to Billy Joel.

What did crab apples have to do with anything?

I sighed and carefully placed the piece of paper back on my desk. There were so many creases in it, from being folded and unfolded and refolded, and yet only three things were crossed off on the list.

How could he have done so little?

Then I shook myself mentally. It didn't matter. What mattered was that I completed the list.

And that was what I was going to do.

For him.