added seriously.
"Thanks," I muttered, looking away.
I headed for the stairs while Charlie waved from the doorway.
"Wait, Bella," he said.
I cringed. Had Billy gotten something in before I'd joined them in the
living room?
But Charlie was relaxed, still grinning from the unexpected visit.
"I didn't get a chance to talk to you tonight. How was your day?"
"Good." I hesitated with one foot on the first stair, searching for
details I could safely share. "My badminton team won all four games."
"Wow, I didn't know you could play badminton."
"Well, actually I can't, but my partner is really good," I admitted.
"Who is it?" he asked with token interest.
"Um… Mike Newton," I told him reluctantly.
"Oh yeah — you said you were friends with the Newton kid." He perked up.
"Nice family." He mused for a minute. "Why didn't you ask him to the
dance this weekend?"
"Dad!" I groaned. "He's kind of dating my friend Jessica. Besides, you
know I can't dance."
"Oh yeah," he muttered. Then he smiled at me apologetically. "So I guess
it's good you'll be gone Saturday… I've made plans to go fishing with the
guys from the station. The weather's supposed to be real warm. But if you
wanted to put your trip off till someone could go with you, I'd stay
home. I know I leave you here alone too much."
"Dad, you're doing a great job." I smiled, hoping my relief didn't show.
"I've never minded being alone — I'm too much like you." I winked at him,
and he smiled his crinkly-eyed smile.
I slept better that night, too tired to dream again. When I woke to the
pearl gray morning, my mood was blissful. The tense evening with Billy
and Jacob seemed harmless enough now; I decided to forget it completely.
I caught myself whistling while I was pulling the front part of my hair
back into a barrette, and later again as I skipped down the stairs.
Charlie noticed.
"You're cheerful this morning," he commented over breakfast.
I shrugged. "It's Friday."
I hurried so I would be ready to go the second Charlie left. I had my bag
ready, shoes on, teeth brushed, but even though I rushed to the door as
soon as I was sure Charlie would be out of sight, Edward was faster. He
was waiting in his shiny car, windows down, engine off.
I didn't hesitate this time, climbing in the passenger side quickly, the
sooner to see his face. He grinned his crooked smile at me, stopping my
breath and my heart. I couldn't imagine how an angel could be any more
glorious. There was nothing about him that could be improved upon.
"How did you sleep?" he asked. I wondered if he had any idea how
appealing his voice was.
"Fine. How was your night?"
"Pleasant." His smile was amused; I felt like I was missing an inside
joke.
"Can I ask what you did?" I asked.
"No." He grinned. "Today is still mine."
He wanted to know about people today: more about Renée, her hobbies, what
we'd done in our free time together. And then the one grandmother I'd
known, my few school friends — embarrassing me when he asked about boys
I'd dated. I was relieved that I'd never really dated anyone, so that
particular conversation couldn't last long. He seemed as surprised as
Jessica and Angela by my lack of romantic history.
"So you never met anyone you wanted?" he asked in a serious tone that
made me wonder what he was thinking about.
I was grudgingly honest. "Not in Phoenix."
His lips pressed together into a hard line.
We were in the cafeteria at this point. The day had sped by in the blur
that was rapidly becoming routine. I took advantage of his brief pause to
take a bite of my bagel.
"I should have let you drive yourself today," he announced, apropos of
nothing, while I chewed.
"Why?" I demanded.
"I'm leaving with Alice after lunch."
"Oh." I blinked, bewildered and disappointed. "That's okay, it's not that
far of a walk."
He frowned at me impatiently. "I'm not going to make you walk home. We'll
go get your truck and leave it here for you."
"I don't have my key with me," I sighed. "I really don't mind walking."
What I minded was losing my time with him.
He shook his head. "Your truck will be here, and the key will be in the
ignition — unless you're afraid someone might steal it." He laughed at
the thought.
"All right," I agreed, pursing my lips. I was pretty sure my key was in
the pocket of a pair of jeans I wore Wednesday, under a pile of clothes
in the laundry room. Even if he broke into my house, or whatever he was
planning, he'd never find it. He seemed to feel the challenge in my
consent. He smirked, overconfident.
"So where are you going?" I asked as casually as I could manage.
"Hunting," he answered grimly. "If I'm going to be alone with you
tomorrow, I'm going to take whatever precautions I can." His face grew
morose… and pleading. "You can always cancel, you know."
I looked down, afraid of the persuasive power of his eyes. I refused to
be convinced to fear him, no matter how real the danger might be. It
doesn't matter, I repeated in my head.
"No," I whispered, glancing back at his face. "I can't."
"Perhaps you're right," he murmured bleakly. His eyes seemed to darken in
color as I watched.
I changed the subject. "What time will I see you tomorrow?" I asked,
already depressed by the thought of him leaving now.
"That depends… it's a Saturday, don't you want to sleep in?" he offered.
"No," I answered too fast. He restrained a smile.
"The same time as usual, then," he decided. "Will Charlie be there?"
"No, he's fishing tomorrow." I beamed at the memory of how conveniently
things had worked out.
His voice turned sharp. "And if you don't come home, what will he think?"
"I have no idea," I answered coolly. "He knows I've been meaning to do
the laundry. Maybe he'll think I fell in the washer."
He scowled at me and I scowled back. His anger was much more impressive
than mine.
"What are you hunting tonight?" I asked when I was sure I had lost the
glowering contest.
"Whatever we find in the park. We aren't going far." He seemed bemused by
my casual reference to his secret realities.
"Why are you going with Alice?" I wondered.
"Alice is the most… supportive." He frowned as he spoke.
"And the others?" I asked timidly. "What are they?"
His brow puckered for a brief moment. "Incredulous, for the most part."
I peeked quickly behind me at his family. They sat staring off in
different directions, exactly the same as the first time I'd seen them.
Only now they were four; their beautiful, bronze-haired brother sat
across from me, his golden eyes troubled.
"They don't like me," I guessed.
"That's not it," he disagreed, but his eyes were too innocent. "They
don't understand why I can't leave you alone."
I grimaced. "Neither do I, for that matter."
Edward shook his head slowly, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling before
he met my gaze again. "I told you — you don't see yourself clearly at
all. You're not like anyone I've ever known. You fascinate me."
I glared at him, sure he was teasing now.
He smiled as he deciphered my expression. "Having the advantages I do,"
he murmured, touching his forehead discreetly, "I have a better than
average grasp of human nature. People are predictable. But you… you never
do what I expect. You always take me by surprise."
I looked away, my eyes wandering back to his family, embarrassed and
dissatisfied. His words made me feel like a science experiment. I wanted
to laugh at myself for expecting anything else.
"That part is easy enough to explain," he continued. I felt his eyes on
my face but I couldn't look at him yet, afraid he might read the chagrin
in my eyes. "But there's more… and it's not so easy to put into words —"
I was still staring at the Cullens while he spoke. Suddenly Rosalie, his
blond and breathtaking sister, turned to look at me. No, not to look — to
glare, with dark, cold eyes. I wanted to look away, but her gaze held me
until Edward broke off mid-sentence and made an angry noise under his
breath. It was almost a hiss.
Rosalie turned her head, and I was relieved to be free. I looked back at
Edward — and I knew he could see the confusion and fear that widened my
eyes.
His face was tight as he explained. "I'm sorry about that. She's just
worried. You see… it's dangerous for more than just me if, after spending
so much time with you so publicly…" He looked down.
"If?"
"If this ends… badly." He dropped his head into his hands, as he had that
night in Port Angeles. His anguish was plain; I yearned to comfort him,
but I was at a loss to know how. My hand reached toward him
involuntarily; quickly, though, I dropped it to the table, fearing that
my touch would only make things worse. I realized slowly that his words
should frighten me. I waited for that fear to come, but all I could seem
to feel was an ache for his pain.
And frustration — frustration that Rosalie had interrupted whatever he
was about to say. I didn't know how to bring it up again. He still had
his head in his hands.
I tried to speak in a normal voice. "And you have to leave now?"
"Yes." He raised his face; it was serious for a moment, and then his mood
shifted and he smiled. "It's probably for the best. We still have fifteen
minutes of that wretched movie left to endure in Biology — I don't think
I could take any more."
I started. Alice — her short, inky hair in a halo of spiky disarray
around her exquisite, elfin face — was suddenly standing behind his
shoulder. Her slight frame was willowy, graceful even in absolute
stillness.
He greeted her without looking away from me. "Alice."
"Edward," she answered, her high soprano voice almost as attractive as
his.
"Alice, Bella — Bella, Alice," he introduced us, gesturing casually with
his hand, a wry smile on his face.
"Hello, Bella." Her brilliant obsidian eyes were unreadable, but her
smile was friendly. "It's nice to finally meet you."
Edward flashed a dark look at her.
"Hi, Alice," I murmured shyly.
"Are you ready?" she asked him.
His voice was aloof. "Nearly. I'll meet you at the car."
She left without another word; her walk was so fluid, so sinuous that I
felt a sharp pang of jealousy.
"Should I say 'have fun,' or is that the wrong sentiment?" I asked,
turning back to him.
"No, 'have fun' works as well as anything." He grinned.
"Have fun, then." I worked to sound wholehearted. Of course I didn't fool
him.
"I'll try." He still grinned. "And you try to be safe, please."
"Safe in Forks — what a challenge."
"For you it is a challenge." His jaw hardened. "Promise."
"I promise to try to be safe," I recited. "I'll do the laundry tonight —
that ought to be fraught with peril."
"Don't fall in," he mocked.
"I'll do my best."
He stood then, and I rose, too.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I sighed.
"It seems like a long time to you, doesn't it?" he mused.
I nodded glumly.
"I'll be there in the morning," he promised, smiling his crooked smile.
He reached across the table to touch my face, lightly brushing along my
cheekbone again. Then he turned and walked away. I stared after him until
he was gone.
I was sorely tempted to ditch the rest of the day, at the very least Gym,
but a warning instinct stopped me. I knew that if I disappeared now, Mike
and others would assume I was with Edward. And Edward was worried about
the time we'd spent together publicly… if things went wrong. I refused to
dwell on the last thought, concentrating instead on making things safer
for him.
I intuitively knew — and sensed he did, too — that tomorrow would be
pivotal. Our relationship couldn't continue to balance, as it did, on the
point of a knife. We would fall off one edge or the other, depending
entirely upon his decision, or his instincts. My decision was made, made
before I'd ever consciously chosen, and I was committed to seeing it
through. Because there was nothing more terrifying to me, more
excruciating, than the thought of turning away from him. It was an
impossibility.
I went to class, feeling dutiful. I couldn't honestly say what happened
in Biology; my mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of tomorrow. In
Gym, Mike was speaking to me again; he wished me a good time in Seattle.
I carefully explained that I'd canceled my trip, worried about my truck.
"Are you going to the dance with Cullen?" he asked, suddenly sulky.
"No, I'm not going to the dance at all."
"What are you doing, then?" he asked, too interested.
My natural urge was to tell him to butt out. Instead, I lied brightly.
"Laundry, and then I have to study for the Trig test or I'm going to
fail."
"Is Cullen helping you study?"
"Edward," I emphasized, "is not going to help me study. He's gone away
somewhere for the weekend." The lies came more naturally than usual, I
noted with surprise.
"Oh." He perked up. "You know, you could come to the dance with our group
anyway — that would be cool. We'd all dance with you," he promised.
The mental image of Jessica's face made my tone sharper than necessary.
"I'm not going to the dance, Mike, okay?"
"Fine." He sulked again. "I was just offering."
When the school day had finally ended, I walked to the parking lot
without enthusiasm. I did not especially want to walk home, but I
couldn't see how he would have retrieved my truck. Then again, I was
starting to believe that nothing was impossible for him. The latter
instinct proved correct — my truck sat in the same space he'd parked his
Volvo in this morning. I shook my head, incredulous, as I opened the
unlocked door and saw the key in the ignition.
There was a piece of white paper folded on my seat. I got in and closed
the door before I unfolded it. Two words were written in his elegant
script.
Be safe.
The sound of the truck roaring to life frightened me. I laughed at myself.
When I got home, the handle of the door was locked, the dead bolt
unlocked, just as I'd left it this morning. Inside, I went straight to
the laundry room. It looked just the same as I'd left it, too. I dug for
my jeans and, after finding them, checked the pockets. Empty. Maybe I'd
hung my key up after all, I thought, shaking my head.
Following the same instinct that had prompted me to lie to Mike, I called
Jessica on the pretense of wishing her luck at the dance. When she
offered the same wish for my day with Edward, I told her about the
cancellation. She was more disappointed than really necessary for a
third-party observer to be. I said goodbye quickly after that.
Charlie was absentminded at dinner, worried over something at work, I
guessed, or maybe a basketball game, or maybe he was just really enjoying
the lasagna — it was hard to tell with Charlie.
"You know, Dad…" I began, breaking into his reverie.
"What's that, Bell?"
"I think you're right about Seattle. I think I'll wait until Jessica or
someone else can go with me."
"Oh," he said, surprised. "Oh, okay. So, do you want me to stay home?"
"No, Dad, don't change your plans. I've got a million things to do…
homework, laundry… I need to go to the library and the grocery store.
I'll be in and out all day… you go and have fun."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely, Dad. Besides, the freezer is getting dangerously low on fish
— we're down to a two, maybe three years' supply."
"You're sure easy to live with, Bella." He smiled.
"I could say the same thing about you," I said, laughing. The sound of my
laughter was off, but he didn't seem to notice. I felt so guilty for
deceiving him that I almost took Edward's advice and told him where I
would be. Almost.
After dinner, I folded clothes and moved another load through the dryer.
Unfortunately it was the kind of job that only keeps hands busy. My mind
definitely had too much free time, and it was getting out of control. I
fluctuated between anticipation so intense that it was very nearly pain,
and an insidious fear that picked at my resolve. I had to keep reminding
myself that I'd made my choice, and I wasn't going back on it. I pulled
his note out of my pocket much more often than necessary to absorb the
two small words he'd written. He wants me to be safe, I told myself again
and again. I would just hold on to the faith that, in the end, that
desire would win out over the others. And what was my other choice — to
cut him out of my life? Intolerable. Besides, since I'd come to Forks, it
really seemed like my life was about him.
But a tiny voice in the back of my mind worried, wondering if it would
hurt very much… if it ended badly.
I was relieved when it was late enough to be acceptable for bedtime. I
knew I was far too stressed to sleep, so I did something I'd never done
before. I deliberately took unnecessary cold medicine — the kind that
knocked me out for a good eight hours. I normally wouldn't condone that
type of behavior in myself, but tomorrow would be complicated enough
without me being loopy from sleep deprivation on top of everything else.
While I waited for the drugs to kick in, I dried my clean hair till it
was impeccably straight, and fussed over what I would wear tomorrow. With
everything ready for the morning, I finally lay in my bed. I felt hyper;
I couldn't stop twitching. I got up and rifled through my shoebox of CDs
until I found a collection of Chopin's nocturnes. I put that on very
quietly and then lay down again, concentrating on relaxing individual
parts of my body. Somewhere in the middle of that exercise, the cold
pills took effect, and I gladly sank into unconsciousness.
I woke early, having slept soundly and dreamlessly thanks to my
gratuitous drug use. Though I was well rested, I slipped right back into
the same hectic frenzy from the night before. I dressed in a rush,
smoothing my collar against my neck, fidgeting with the tan sweater till
it hung right over my jeans. I sneaked a swift look out the window to see
that Charlie was already gone. A thin, cottony layer of clouds veiled the
sky. They didn't look very lasting.
I ate breakfast without tasting the food, hurrying to clean up when I was
done. I peeked out the window again, but nothing had changed. I had just
finished brushing my teeth and was heading back downstairs when a quiet
knock sent my heart thudding against my rib cage.
I flew to the door; I had a little trouble with the simple dead bolt, but
I yanked the door open at last, and there he was. All the agitation
dissolved as soon as I looked at his face, calm taking its place. I
breathed a sigh of relief — yesterday's fears seemed very foolish with
him here.
He wasn't smiling at first — his face was somber. But then his expression
lightened as he looked me over, and he laughed.
"Good morning," he chuckled.
"What's wrong?" I glanced down to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything
important, like shoes, or pants.
"We match." He laughed again. I realized he had a long, light tan sweater
on, with a white collar showing underneath, and blue jeans. I laughed
with him, hiding a secret twinge of regret — why did he have to look like
a runway model when I couldn't?
I locked the door behind me while he walked to the truck. He waited by
the passenger door with a martyred expression that was easy to understand.
"We made a deal," I reminded him smugly, climbing into the driver's seat,
and reaching over to unlock his door.
"Where to?" I asked.
"Put your seat belt on — I'm nervous already."
I gave him a dirty look as I complied.
"Where to?" I repeated with a sigh.
"Take the one-oh-one north," he ordered.
It was surprisingly difficult to concentrate on the road while feeling
his gaze on my face. I compensated by driving more carefully than usual
through the still-sleeping town.
"Were you planning to make it out of Forks before nightfall?"
"This truck is old enough to be your car's grandfather — have some
respect," I retorted.
We were soon out of the town limits, despite his negativity. Thick
underbrush and green-swathed trunks replaced the lawns and houses.
"Turn right on the one-ten," he instructed just as I was about to ask. I
obeyed silently.
"Now we drive until the pavement ends."
I could hear a smile in his voice, but I was too afraid of driving off
the road and proving him right to look over and be sure.
"And what's there, at the pavement's end?" I wondered.
"A trail."
"We're hiking?" Thank goodness I'd worn tennis shoes.
"Is that a problem?" He sounded as if he'd expected as much.
"No." I tried to make the lie sound confident. But if he thought my truck
was slow…
"Don't worry, it's only five miles or so, and we're in no hurry."
Five miles. I didn't answer, so that he wouldn't hear my voice crack in
panic. Five miles of treacherous roots and loose stones, trying to twist
my ankles or otherwise incapacitate me. This was going to be humiliating.
We drove in silence for a while as I contemplated the coming horror.
"What are you thinking?" he asked impatiently after a few moments.
I lied again. "Just wondering where we're going."
"It's a place I like to go when the weather is nice." We both glanced out
the windows at the thinning clouds after he spoke.
"Charlie said it would be warm today."
"And did you tell Charlie what you were up to?" he asked.
"Nope."
"But Jessica thinks we're going to Seattle together?" He seemed cheered
by the idea.
"No, I told her you canceled on me — which is true."
"No one knows you're with me?" Angrily, now.
"That depends… I assume you told Alice?"
"That's very helpful, Bella," he snapped.
I pretended I didn't hear that.
"Are you so depressed by Forks that it's made you suicidal?" he demanded
when I ignored him.
"You said it might cause trouble for you… us being together publicly," I
reminded him.
"So you're worried about the trouble it might cause me— if you don't come
home?" His voice was still angry, and bitingly sarcastic.
I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road.
He muttered something under his breath, speaking so quickly that I
couldn't understand.
We were silent for the rest of the drive. I could feel the waves of
infuriated disapproval rolling off of him, and I could think of nothing
to say.
And then the road ended, constricting to a thin foot trail with a small
wooden marker. I parked on the narrow shoulder and stepped out, afraid
because he was angry with me and I didn't have driving as an excuse not
to look at him. It was warm now, warmer than it had been in Forks since
the day I'd arrived, almost muggy under the clouds. I pulled off my
sweater and knotted it around my waist, glad that I'd worn the light,
sleeveless shirt — especially if I had five miles of hiking ahead of me.
I heard his door slam, and looked over to see that he'd removed his
sweater, too. He was facing away from me, into the unbroken forest beside
my truck.
"This way," he said, glancing over his shoulder at me, eyes still
annoyed. He started into the dark forest.
"The trail?" Panic was clear in my voice as I hurried around the truck to
catch up to him.
"I said there was a trail at the end of the road, not that we were taking
it."
"No trail?" I asked desperately.
