Edward's Story

by nora321

The beginning of Twilight told from Edward's point of view. Go inside the head of Edward as he struggles with what he is, especially when he meets Bella for the first time. Well-written and true to the original tale.

1. Bleak Prognosis

That morning Edward found himself in a darker mood than usual. He had spent the night learning Hebrew, and then proudly reading whatever Hebrew texts he could get a hold of. But his newfound familiarity with the ancient language had pierced him with unexpected sadness. Legends of a paradise he would never get to see, human and trivial temptations he would never have to face, evils that he could not read about with the intended abhorrence or fear, because he belonged with them…filled him with a self-disgust he was not used to feeling.

Usually his attitude was characterized by an assured self-confidence. There was very little that had ever presented a real challenge to Edward, and very little that he did not do well. His gentlemanly mannerisms were perfectly cultivated, his intelligence and athleticism were unparalleled even by his brothers and sisters, and the self-discipline with which he approached every project he undertook was faultless. He had good reasons to view himself with pride and satisfaction. The only event where he ever really regretted the way he handled the situation had occurred long ago. Remembering the mouth-watering, satiating, inescapably delectable taste of so much warm human blood, as sharply as if it he had just tasted it, stabbed him with a fiercer self-loathing. Thou shalt not kill. The words had been inscribed in faded and intricate lettering on the page before him last night, in the language of wise and good men whose souls had been touched by sacred inspiration – damning him to Hell. Edward had crumpled the page into a miniscule ball in his fist, crushing it easily into pulp as the hatred washed over him.

He did not have a soul.

Eventually, his disgust had faded into something worse. Helplessness. Edward was even less accustomed to this emotion. There were not many situations that rendered him powerless, and not many times that he allowed himself to wallow in reflections that would ultimately bring self-pity. Edward shied away from weakness in himself; it was one of the qualities Esme was most proud of in him. But it had swept over him last night, consuming him. He had stared bitterly at his translation of the Bible and its promises of eternal happiness, and envisioned his own eternity with dull dreariness.

He would never be at a loss for things to do. Every day ideas for new projects presented themselves, projects that he took on eagerly. He loved to learn, loved to apply himself, and each time a human published a new discovery or invention he enthusiastically immersed himself in its study. The monotony of his daily life was more than compensated for by the thrilling challenges he tackled by night.

It was the lack of…meaning…that flooded him with dull misery. His life was completely devoid of substantiality, of function, of goodness. The Hebrew words surrounded him, preaching a life of holiness and reverence that was impossible for him. Because he wasn't good. He was a monster. The anger returned and he tore another page out of his book, shredding it angrily into tiny pieces in under a millisecond. He was the evil that every holy book he studied warned against. No matter what disciplinary, self-denying choices he made, he could never be anything but a monster on Earth. He could learn everything that could possibly be learned, compose music, study languages, win at games…but none of it would provide his cursed life with meaning. And this dreary prognosis was what Edward was helpless against.

He could not, like Carlisle, commit himself to medicine – no hospital in the world would allow a seventeen-year old to practice. At least, that was what Edward told himself. But in the corner of his mind was a humbling seed of self-doubt. He was very, very good at controlling his thirst, but could he really be so near the smell of human blood without yielding to his less commendable instincts and feeding? It was different for Carlisle. He had never tasted – could not imagine – the pleasure and satisfaction that drinking human blood brought. Carlisle's compassion had shielded him from that knowledge. The bliss was, of course, short-lived; shame, guilt, horror all inevitably followed – at least for Edward, who, despite being a monster, had a strong sense of right and wrong. But still, at the time…practicing medicine was unequivocally out of the question. He could not endanger innocent humans like that.

What, then? What could shake him out of the dullness that characterized every day of his existence? For Carlisle, it was medicine. For Esme, it was her family. She was a mother by nature, and her greatest comfort was in nurturing and guiding her adopted children. Edward often found himself manufacturing a smile on his face for her sake – he would rather do anything than give his sweet, affectionate mother any sort of pain.

For his adopted siblings, it was each other. Rosalie and Emmett were passionately in love; Edward could read the desperation for each other in their body language as well as in their minds. It was a lustful, feverish, consuming flame. That sort of intensity of emotion would be incomprehensible to Edward, had he not been able to understand it through their thoughts. He rarely ever did, though. It was an invasion of their privacy, and he prided himself on being honorable.

Alice and Jasper's adoration for one another was calmer, but deeper. Stranger. They were sure of their bind, confident that their lives belonged to one another. Their minds were strangely attuned, connected; they always had each other in their thoughts, whether consciously or not.

It didn't work that way for Edward. He thought about Tanya's advances from two years ago. How she had teased him for being so serious and had told jokes that increased in vulgarity and bawdiness as they got to know each other better in her endeavors to get him to laugh more. How she had announced, flirtatiously mocking, that she played violin better than he played piano, and then performed for him with, it was true, impressive musicianship and skill. How she had challenged him to races in the field at night and pouted coyly if he didn't let her win. How she had worn low-cut and flattering dresses and hoped fervently that he would compliment her, hoped fervently he would take the bait…Edward suddenly felt embarrassed as he remembered her vision of him tearing her clothes off in a fit of passionate desire. He wished she had been more careful with her thoughts around him.

Tanya was lively, spirited, full of fun, and extremely cocky…as cocky as Edward, he remembered Esme thinking. And beautiful. There was no doubt at all that she was beautiful. She was young, had a model figure, and her strawberry blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight. She was confidently aware that she was stunning, even for a vampire, and as confident that if nothing else, she could tempt Edward's lust. Carlisle and Esme had been ecstatic to watch Tanya's attentions to their only single son, hoping that he had finally found a partner like the other members of their family had found. In fact, both families had thought Tanya was perfect for him. Even Tanya herself had thought so. He's lucky to have found me, she had thought. He needs me desperately, to bring some life to his eyes.

So Edward had tried to spend time with her, eager to please Esme and curious as to whether he might experience the emotions that he had read about, not only in books, but in the minds of his family members. But it hadn't taken long before he realized that Tanya inspired none of those emotions in him. In the time he spent with her he was simply playing a part, reciting the courtly expressions that he knew she hoped to hear, performing blankly the motions with which a well-raised gentleman ought to treat a young lady. Her brazen and unladylike advances only made him uncomfortable. His interest and curiosity in her quickly waned, and as for lust – Edward remembered nothing of his biological parents, but he supposed they must have brought him up very respectably, for the idea of succumbing to Tanya's temptations without any emotional attachment seemed unforgivably despicable.

Tanya had been thrilled at first by the time they spent together, believing him to return her attentions. When he read this misconception in her mind, however, he had realized that it was time to put an end to her fantasies, vivid as he could see they were. He had spoken to a disappointed Carlisle. They were already concerned about the uneasiness that their number aroused in the townspeople. Edward did not feel any pangs about leaving Denali, Alaska. He was used to the continuous moving and starting over and, to be honest with himself – as inexcusably rude as the thought was – he was tired of Tanya.

Edward's memory flashed back to that day in Denali, Alaska. He had asked Tanya to accompany him for a walk, making sure to keep his tone polite and distant. She had assented readily, not hearing the careful courteousness in his voice. Tanya was not particularly perceptive.

"Mrs. Skinner and Mrs. Pastely are thinking about taking their children out of public school and putting them into a private high school," he had informed her, watching as she gracefully climbed a tree to pluck a white blossom, and then danced down it again before he had finished his sentence. She tucked the flower behind her ear with overdone casualness. He tried to ignore what he could hear in her mind: hopes that he would be touched by her sudden affinity for nature.

"Eddie, please don't start boring me with small-town gossip. Who cares where the Skinny and Pasty kids go to school? Hey, guess what? I've been thinking about whether I could write my own violin composition. I've been playing for longer than some of the composers I admire, after all. Do you think I'm good enough?" she had asked enticingly, fishing for a compliment.

"You are more than talented enough to write your own music," Edward had smiled automatically, used to her antics. She was satisfied. "And unfortunately, we do have to care where the Skinner and Pastely children attend school. Their mothers are moving them because of us."

They leapt over a narrow river in unison, landing nimbly on the other side and continuing their walk.

"What do you mean, because of us?" He heard her thoughts and sighed at her only mild curiosity. She was unwilling to continue a conversation that did not involve their relationship.

"I heard them thinking today as they picked Morgan and David up from school. Each was feeling suspicious about the nine pale-faced students who never fail to rank highest in their classes. It makes them uncomfortable. They think something dishonest is going on – they think their children are being cheated out of high placement. But more than that, they are worried about their children having continuous exposure to us. We frighten them."

Tanya did not answer out loud, but her mind had been indifferent. They don't know what we are, she had thought dismissively. She began a series of gymnastics moves, flipping and twirling herself through the dense clusters of trees – showing off for him.

"But we frighten them nevertheless, Tanya. All of us, living together, isolating ourselves from the other humans, all inhumanly intelligent and beautiful and alien. I heard their thoughts. They plan to speak to other mothers about us. They may even talk to the principal, which we cannot have. There are just too many of us not to attract attention and concern." Tanya was on the other side of a cluster of trees, having landed there after a round of cartwheels, but listening reluctantly. She ran back nimbly and was at his side again in half a second.

"So what do we do?"

"I spoke to Carlisle today. He is just as worried. There has been some talk at the hospital; a man who saw four different, famous doctors in big-city hospitals could not be diagnosed until he met Carlisle. The man, fully cured, is now expressing his gratitude by telling people far and wide about this miracle worker. It is attracting too much attention to him…the miracle worker doctor and his strangely brilliant family, taking over the town."

Tanya exhaled sharply. I won't let idiot human gossip scare me away from my home. "We'll just have to be less conspicuous, Eddie," she said out loud.

"Of course this is your home," Edward had responded to her thoughts instead of her voice, trying to ignore the irritation he felt at being called 'Eddie.' "But being less conspicuous appears to be impossible. There are too many of us. Carlisle and I think it will be best to leave."

Tanya blinked. "What?"

"Not you and your sisters, of course. Young looking as you all are, you still have plenty of time left here. And I agree; you three have successfully created a beautiful home for yourselves. We would not dream of disrupting it. It would be wrong and unnecessary. It is our sheer number that is causing unease in Denali; therefore only a few of us must leave. That will be enough to quiet the gossip, before it becomes a real problem" he concluded assuredly.

Tanya picked up a boulder and began tossing it in the air and catching it again, trying not to look at him. What about us? She had not wanted him to hear that thought; it had flickered into her mind before she could suppress it.

"Why, our families will always remain close friends no matter the distance between us is, of course," Edward had said. "But you know we must protect our anonymity over anything else. We do not want to attract the attention of the Volturi, Tanya."

Not the us I was referring to. She threw the boulder at him; he caught it in one hand and tossed it back. She balanced it on her finger.

"You'll miss me too much if you go, Eddie," she said – teasingly, flirtatiously. "You'll want me. Your life is so boring, isn't it? What would you possibly do for fun without me?" She tossed the boulder aside and began to walk towards him with a cat-like gait, hips swaying slightly so as to emphasize the womanly curves of her body. Edward read her intent immediately – she was going to try to kiss him.

For a shameful moment, Edward had considered yielding. Curiosity was his only motive. What would closeness to a female feel like? But the moment was very short-lived. If no being was capable of making him feel anything, he would not use one for curiosity's sake, he told himself sternly. His sense of honor kicked in. So he had spoken hastily.

"Indeed, I will miss you and your sisters, Tanya," he said slowly, deliberately – very different from the easy rapidity with which they were used to speaking. "I think of you three as part of my family, like cousins."

You know I'm more than just a cousin to you, she thought, smirking. She unbuttoned the top button of her pale blue, collared shirt and began to walk towards him again, like a cat approaching her prey, her golden eyes seductive. You know you want me. He stepped back and began to speak again, more firmly this time.

"I have enjoyed our time together immensely," he answered calmly, determined to remain polite despite his growing revulsion for her conceit. "And I am exceedingly flattered by how much time you have spent with me. You are brilliant, unique, truly one of a kind." She smiled, taking another step towards him. He read her mind; she thought him shy and nervous. With light-speed quickness, he held up a hand to pause her. She froze mid-step. "But my feelings for you are, as I have said, those of a man for a most treasured cousin. I can offer you only the sincerest of friendships, and hope to continue receiving your friendship in return. Any deeper sentiments can be bestowed upon a much worthier object, I am sure. I do not deserve anything more from a woman as lovely as you."

She hadn't moved while he spoke. He held her gaze, reading her thoughts as they flitted from expressions of disbelief, to uncertainty, to incredulity, to resignation. Finally, she smiled.

"Are you sure you aren't mistaken? I could make your life so much better – really show you what you've been missing, Eddie. Just drop the old-fashioned gentleman façade for once and you'll see how much fun life can be! We're in our teens forever, for God's sake!"

Once again he struggled not to let his distaste show. "I am absolutely certain, Tanya," he said with a friendly smile. But there was a pang of regret as he spoke – regret that he did not feel what his brothers felt for Rosalie and Alice. Regret that perhaps he could not feel that way. In one hundred years, he had never felt anything like they did. The love that Carlisle, Emmett, and Jasper all so easily bestowed upon the objects of their affection had always been elusive… mysterious, confusing. Perhaps, as Esme sometimes worried, he had been changed too young.

Edward's mind came swiftly back to the present. The regret he had felt that day two years ago, as he gently rejected Tanya, had evaporated; it was replaced with passive indifference. He knew, now, that the passion his family members felt for each other was something he would never experience; it simply did not appear to be part of his emotional range. But he did not care very much. He loved his mother and his sisters, and felt nothing but potential comradeship for other females he encountered. His music, his studies, his athletic ability – these were his passions. Perhaps they would not provide him with the fulfillment and excitement that his other family members seemed to experience on occasion, but he had no choice but to be resigned. He was helpless. Soulless. There was nothing to do but continue living the way he had been for the past one hundred years for the rest of eternity; with endless learning and working and disciplining; without meaning or purpose behind them.

Alice and Jasper entered the room together and watched as Edward cleared his books and papers away speedily. He tried to ignore their minds as they looked into one another's eyes, still harboring euphoric thoughts from the night they had spent together. Edward had heard them all night, too – but had tried, as always, to block the sound out.

Edward suddenly felt his mood elevate, and turned around, smiling in spite of himself, with his eyebrow raised at Jasper.

What's the matter? Jasper thought, smiling back.

"Nothing," Edward replied smoothly. Jasper looked at him skeptically. Edward felt himself getting happier by the second, and shook his head at Jasper. "I'm honestly fine. Just thinking about the Hebrew texts I've been reading." Alice was looking between them with curiosity, but her eyes flashed intuitively when she heard the word Hebrew.

"Was it the Bible? Are you thinking about your soul?" she asked in a sorrowful, worried voice.

"A little," Edward shrugged smilingly, still under Jasper's influence – too happy to think about his dark, dull mood from a few moments earlier. Alice noticed this, and did not question him further.

"Ugh," she said suddenly. Edward read in her mind her vision of Rosalie and Emmett, about to come down the stairs intertwined, still kissing – in a way that tended to nauseate them all.

"Ugh," he agreed. "I'll meet you at the car."

He walked outside to his silver Volvo – the least ostentatious of his family's cars. Esme was gardening next to the house, singing to herself contentedly and thinking about Carlisle – was there anyone in his family who wasn't exhilarated with the aftermath of the night? Outside the scope of Jasper's influence, his dull mood returned.

"Edward, honey?" Esme called. He sprinted over to her and was at her side before she had finished the second word. How was Hebrew?

He flashed her a smile that he knew did not reach his eyes. "Fun."

"Good," she faltered, her eyes concerned. He heard her thoughts, recognized her worry, and he instantly made his smile more convincing.

"Really, it was fun. Tonight I am going to compare some texts written in Mishnah and Talmud. Human scholars have gotten the translations all wrong. Maybe I'll send them an anonymous letter," he joked.

"That's great, sweetheart," she smiled encouragingly. She turned back to the cedar tree she was snipping at. Anything exciting happening in school today?

He looked at her incredulously and she laughed. Silly me. Then she turned and examined his face a little more closely, still clipping perfectly without having to look.

You guys should go hunting soon, she thought reproachfully. You look thirsty.

"It's nothing," Edward said, smiling indulgently. Esme worried too much. He never slipped up.

Still…this weekend…

"Emmett and I will go up to the mountains," he reassured her. "Deer get too boring."

She nodded, smiling back at him. Are you okay, son?

"Of course I am," he replied quickly, kissing her cheek.

You haven't been playing the piano as much lately.

"I'll play your favorite song for you tonight," he promised. She was right; he hadn't been in the mood to play lately. But he would rather force himself than cause her more anxiety. She smiled again, but he knew that her thoughts weren't altogether satisfied. She had noticed the dullness in his eyes.

"Cheer up, Mom," Edward said cheerfully, punching her shoulder playfully. "You worry too much."

I want you to be happy, she thought, though his playful manner reassured her more than his words. He realized that it had been a long time since he had been very playful. Maybe he and Emmett could have a mock fight tonight, just so Esme would feel like they were enjoying life. So she would feel like he was enjoying life, he realized. She didn't worry about the others like she worried about him.

"Edward!" Alice sang from behind them. "We're waiting!"

"Have a good day, darlings!" Esme called to them affectionately as Edward ran to the car in a flash. His siblings waved and called back. Take care of Jasper, she added in her thoughts. Edward looked at her and nodded once, the manufactured smile still plastered to his face, before getting into the car.

2. First Sight

For Esme's benefit, Edward spent the majority of the day monitoring Jasper. It wasn't difficult to concentrate on both his adopted brother and his Trigonometry test at the same time; his kind could think about multiple things at once. Edward frowned as he neatly wrote down the correct answers and work, hearing the tension in Jasper's thoughts as he smelled the humans next to him. The burning in Jasper's throat was painful and uncomfortable, but he appeared to have it under control. Edward sighed as he finished the test much earlier than anyone else in the class. He began to think about his Hebrew translations.

An image began popping into his head – he was seeing it through the thoughts of the other students in the school. He was confused momentarily by the frequency with which it occurred in his mind, until he realized that the same girl was in more than 75% of the student body's thoughts. New girl. Of course. Isabella Swan, the police chief's long lost daughter from Phoenix – Bella, she kept correcting everyone. The town had been expecting her for weeks, abuzz with curiosity and wonder. Almost every girl was considering her with nosy interest – Edward quickly tuned those thoughts out.

The boys' thoughts he was about to tune out as well, intending to challenge himself by translating Shakespeare into Hebrew, when he noticed with surprise how loudly he heard a longing for the new girl. He suddenly realized why the thought was so strong: it was coming from multiple sources. Every human boy in the school was thinking about her with awed admiration, burning desire, swelling hope, excited schemes – Edward almost chuckled at the ubiquity of the thoughts. He then quickly realized how strange the chuckle felt – as if it was a completely foreign mannerism. When was the last time he had laughed? No wonder Esme was worried about him. He resolved to begin playing the piano more, for her sake. And Emmett and Jasper had agreed to fight this afternoon, when he had asked him during the car ride.

Bella. She was very pretty for a human; Edward could see that even through the eyes of the too-eager young men. Her dark brown hair flowed smoothly and straightly over her slim shoulders, framing the fair complexion of her face with an alluring simplicity. Her eyes were large and beautiful – a deep, chocolate-brown color, outlined by dark, fine eyelashes. Her upper lip was slightly too full – Edward usually ignored human faces, so the asymmetry surprised him. Vampire features were always flawless. He noticed vaguely that Bella's face seemed fresh, somehow. Most of the human girls in Forks wore at least a touch of makeup, though of course Rosalie and Alice didn't need it, but she was completely natural. Her body was slender and womanly, characterized by a softness that differentiated it from the obvious, ostentatious curves to which Edward was accustomed. He looked at her through the mind of Eric Lee for a brief sixteenth of a second, appreciating her aesthetically with apathetic indifference. He had seen his fair share of beauty over the past one hundred years; it was never accompanied by anything that could hold his interest. He turned his thoughts back to Hebrew, still smirking to himself over the swooning infatuation that surrounded him.

Morning classes passed in a blur of dullness. He continued to monitor Jasper, perfected his knowledge of the Hebrew language and studied it for Arabic influences, and composed a new melody in his head that he was eager to try out on the piano when he got home. It was written in an angry diminished key, inspired by his recent dreariness of mind, but had the potential to be impressively complex and intricate, if he might say so himself. He was feeling smug about it as he walked to the cafeteria for lunch: the one period where he didn't have to pretend to pay attention to the incessant dronings of an inadequate human teacher. Edward frowned, wishing he could pass for an age old enough to be a teacher. He knew he could be good at it; it might give him the sense of purpose he was missing.

The cafeteria was always louder for Edward than it was for anyone else; not only did the blast of spoken voices infiltrate his already sensitive ears, but the flooding of extra thoughts was enough to make him clamp his hands over his ears and scream. With extra effort, as usual, he tuned out the thoughts and walked through the lunch line, keeping up with its annoyingly slow pace, collecting the correct dishes of human food without paying much attention, and smiling vaguely at the lunch lady as he passed her the right bills. Her thoughts immediately became unbearably inappropriate; he politely focused on his piano melody and ignored them as he smiled and walked off.

None of Edward's brothers or sisters seemed to notice his lackluster expression as he approached the table; they hardly glanced up as he sat down with his tray of human food.

Emmett was thinking about the upcoming fight tonight with exultant anticipation, always thrilled for opportunities to exhibit his superior strength. Rosalie had a murderous expression on her face as she stared out the window. Edward read her thoughts curiously, then sighed, refusing to give it further attention. Her gym class had undergone a health education session today, and the talk of condoms and pregnancy had cast a dark shadow over her mood – a mood with which he was all too familiar.

Alice was worrying about Jasper, as usual. Edward listened intently to Jasper's thoughts. The smell of blood was consuming them; he was thinking about how easy it would be to lure a red-headed girl, standing nearby, out into the rain and take her. The thoughts were tormented; Jasper was clearly angry with himself for letting them cross his mind. Sorry, he thought furiously, not looking at Edward but knowing that he would be listening.

Edward did not acknowledge the thought. He felt ashamed at his slight contempt for Jasper, knowing that it was unfair – Jasper was newest to their way of life and it was always more difficult at first. It had been for each of them. Still – Edward was sure that he had been better at controlling his thirst than Jasper was now. Perhaps it was because he had been able to hear the sincerity of Carlisle's thoughts when he spoke earnestly about their obligation to mankind and goodness; no one would want to disappoint such a flawlessly genuine, kind man. Edward remembered his rebellious years with a shudder, then cast it out of his mind. Once he had committed to Carlisle's lifestyle, his self-discipline had never wavered.

As he mulled over the pride, and disdain, that he could not help but feel, he heard the change in Alice's thoughts. A vision. He listened more closely, seeing the rain and wind that raged more furiously in the northwestern area of town. Mrs. Habbenstein, a sweet 74-year old lady with white hair twisted into a neat bun and a pale pink cane, was walking hurriedly through the grocery store parking lot, arms filled with groceries. She rushed through the rain, looking for her car, trying to remember where she had parked it…she didn't have time to notice the Jeep that zoomed into view from behind her; nor did the Jeep notice her. Edward felt sick.

I'll move her car closer to the store right now, Alice thought reassuringly. Instantly a new vision appeared in his mind, seen through hers; Mrs. Habbenstein got safely into her car and drove way. He closed his eyes in relief and flashed a tiny smile of approval. She told the rest of the family where she was going, speaking too quietly and rapidly for any nearby humans to see or hear – they could never be too careful – and then rushed off, throwing her trash out as she moved. Edward hoped she wasn't being watched by any humans; her movements had been slightly too fast to be believable. He listened for a moment, and then relaxed again. He began thinking about his new piano melody, composing a descant over the second chorus.

A second later, Edward heard someone ask about his family; The Cullens appeared in Jessica Stanley's insipid mind. Edward's eyes flickered reflexively to Jessica when he heard his last name, already moving on; he was uninterested in the petty, judgmental thoughts she harbored towards his family. He glanced at the questioner. New girl: Bella Swan.

Her face flushed as their eyes met and he automatically looked away with casual disinterest, as if his glance had strayed to her by accident. Human eyes wouldn't be able to tell the difference. He picked up his bagel and ripped off a piece in case the girls were still watching him. His thoughts were mostly on his descant, although her blush was vaguely interesting. He had been ignoring humans for so long, he had forgotten about that emotional reaction. It was fascinating, how quickly warm blood could flow to a human face. And it was a little endearing, too, to see such easy embarrassment in a pretty girl. Pretty girls tended to be more confident.

He could hear Jessica whispering the Cullens' names to Bella; without really caring, he listened for Bella's predictably mundane reaction. Then he listened closer. Then even closer.

"I can't hear Bella Swan's thoughts," he muttered disconcertedly, eyes on his tray. He tore another piece from his bagel. "Jessica Stanley is telling her about us, but I can't hear what she's thinking."

His family was unconcerned.

There are a lot of people in this cafeteria, Jasper thought calmly. You are probably just having difficulty picking her voice out.

Who cares? She's probably not thinking anything that's worth your hearing, Rosalie thought in boredom, continuing to stare scathingly out the window.

Welcome to our world, man, was Emmet's joking reaction.

Edward turned his thoughts back to Jessica and Bella's conversation, still looking down. His siblings were probably right. He focused again on his descant, keeping the conversation about his family in the back of his capable mind – he doubted there was anything to worry about, but it was still his responsibility to know how people felt about them.

"They are…very nice-looking," Bella was saying. Her words were commonplace; humans were supposed to find their kind attractive. But her tone was strangely hesitant. Why? Was she suspicious? Edward listened for her low, clear voice in the flurry of other people's thoughts. Nothing.

"Yes!" Jessica agreed, giggling in agreement; then her thoughts turned judgmental. "They're all together though — Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together."

Edward waited for Bella's reaction to this information – information that Jessica, and the rest of the school, found deliciously scandalous. He had often thought that his adopted siblings ought to pretend to be just that – siblings – in public, but they all had trouble subduing their affection for one another. He was too generous to deny them any sort of pleasure, anyway. Bella's mind remained, however, exasperatingly blank. He listened instead for her verbal reaction.

"Which ones are the Cullens?" she asked. "They don't look related."

No reaction. That was odd. Was that why her mind had been blank? Or was she thinking condemnatory and shocked thoughts that he couldn't hear? He began to feel irritated. What was going on? His piano piece was no longer in his mind; he was listening furiously.

"Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins — the blondes — and they're foster children."

"They look a little old for foster children."

"They are now. Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that."

"That's really kind of nice — for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything."

It was the first time anyone in the school – in the town, as far as Edward knew – had had a generous sentiment to express about Carlisle and Esme. He wondered if Bella was being sincere. He continued to pick at his bagel, frustrated that he had to wonder. It was the first time anyone had ever flouted his ability to read minds. He had been used to taking it for granted.

"I guess so," Jessica was saying reluctantly. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though." She was trying to diminish the appearance of generosity on his parents' part; she did not want to express approval for anything his family did, nor did she want Bella to be mistaken about them. Edward thought about Esme and how much she loved him, and regretted his recent dullness once more as he listened for Bella's response. He was determined to please his adopted mother.

"Have they always lived in Forks?" she was asking. No reaction again. How irritating.

"No," Jessica answered. She were offended by Bella's question; annoyed that she might think people as strange as the Cullens could be natives of her precious town. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

Edward listened again for Bella's answer, glaring at his plate but concentrating. Nothing. Not only was her mind blank to him, but she expressed no vocal response. Finally the silence drove him to look up at her. He half expected that her strange immunity to his mind-reading would evaporate upon visual contact.

Their eyes met; she was watching him too. Her eyes, inconsequentially, were much more beautiful than Eric Lee's mind had given them credit for; they were deep, expressive, serious, intelligent, and strangely sweet. It was as if hatred, scorn, judgment, jealousy, pettiness – any deplorable emotion – was completely foreign to them. He had never seen such a look of pureness before, not in a human and certainly not in a monster like himself. The expression of her eyes confused him as much as her impervious mind. He wondered if her thoughts matched them, and felt irritated that he couldn't answer his own question.

She had looked away quickly. "Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?" she asked Jessica quietly. She peeked at Edward again from the corner of her eye, then looked down again.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." Edward looked at the wall to hide his grin, entertained by Jessica's miffed thoughts. He remembered her excited attention to him when he entered Forks High School and offended resentment when he had remained politely impassive. That reminded him of Tanya's brazen attentions, too. Females were so amusingly detestable at times.

Edward tried to think about the situation rationally, confused about why one human would be immune to his abilities. There didn't seem to be any explanation. He listened to Bella's voice again without looking over, but the Cullens were no longer the topic of discussion. She was answering a question of Mike Newton's; admitting, in a reluctant tone, to having read all the books in their English class's syllabus. Why was she reluctant to admit that? Mike Newton's thoughts were admiring, awed. It was mildly impressive for a human, Edward supposed. But that was irrelevant right now.

"Let's go outside and talk," he said quietly and quickly. His siblings all stood with him, and the four of them walked with easy grace out of the cafeteria, emptying their untouched trays in the trash can as they moved.

They walked calmly through the rain to the edge of the green forest near school's boundaries. Edward listened for anyone who might have noticed them, but heard nothing. Once out of sight of humans, they ran.

Running gave Edward a rush like nothing else. He succumbed completely to the exhilaration, soaring joyfully through the air, enjoying the feeling of the wind pushing in vain against his strong body. He heard his siblings' thoughts; their casual sprint was turning into a competition – Emmett in particular was trying to outdo him. Edward smirked and put on an extra burst of speed, easily overtaking them. He was undeniably the fastest.

Once they were safely out of human territory, having run for about eleven seconds, they stopped and turned to one another. Suddenly Alice appeared behind Jasper; she touched his arm in greeting. "I saw you come here," she explained cheerfully. "Mrs. Habbenstein is fine!"

"What's the problem, Edward?" Rosalie asked abruptly, ignoring Alice. "Lunch will be over in a few minutes."

"I can't hear Bella Swan's thoughts. I'm sure of it," he added quickly, as Jasper opened his mouth. "Alice, do you see anything? Am I losing my abilities?"

"No," Alice said with perfect confidence, and then she closed her eyes, focusing. Edward read her thoughts, looking into the future with her. "I don't know why you can't hear the girl. I see you struggling with something very, very soon…something is giving you a lot of pain," she looked at him apologetically. "But I can't say what yet. Your decision hasn't been made." She only spoke aloud for the others' benefits, knowing that Edward had seen her vision.

"Pain?" Emmett repeated, confused. "What kind of pain? Are we in danger?"

"I can't say for sure yet. We might be, but it might be nothing," Alice looked frustrated. "It isn't clear yet. It all depends on Edward's decision. I'll know for sure after it is made. It will be soon."

"Make sure you make the right decision then, Edward," Rosalie said superiorly. He shook his head, sharing her annoyance about any potential danger that he might impose upon them. He knew he would never bring harm upon his family. He was utterly bemused about Alice's prediction. What decision of his could ever put his family in danger in monotonous Forks?

A gust of wind suddenly blew near them, saturated with the smell of a human. The five of them collectively took a breath, inhaling the deliciously tempting smell. Jasper's eyes were suddenly wild; he was thinking again about how easy it would be – the five of them were in school, no one would suspect them – no one would question the fact that this unsuspecting hiker happened to be mauled by a bear in the thick of the forest – the warm, thick, luscious taste would quickly satisfy his endless cravings, give him the strength to resist in the future…

"Jasper," Edward said in a quiet but pleasant voice, his eyes watching the raindrops condense on a faraway leaf.

"You weren't going to do anything," Alice added in a consoling voice. "I could see that."

"We should get back," Jasper muttered, ashamed. He took off in a sprint back towards the school. Alice sighed and raced after him.

They still had about 200 seconds before the next period started, so the remaining three lingered in the forest for a little while.

"Don't worry about it, man," Emmett grinned, lying on the ground and benching-pressing a massive, moss-covered log with one finger. "She's probably just a thoughtless moron and that's why you can't hear anything."

Edward felt the smirk on his face. In the forest, away from the depths of Bella's eyes, it was easy to believe that he had imagined the intelligent expression there. She most likely was just a thoughtless human moron, though he would never phrase it that way himself.

"And you'll do the right thing. You're always the good guy."

"I'm not worried." Edward said smoothly, with perfect confidence. He was the most disciplined of his family members, dedicating himself to learning more than any of them could and living the most rigid of lifestyles. Whatever decision was coming, he knew he would make the right one.

Eventually they sighed and sprinted back for the final hours of Forks High School. Despite the excursion, Edward was one of the first people to enter his biology classroom. He slipped into his seat at the empty lab table, assumed a facial expression of mild anticipation and continued mentally composing the angry descant as he prepared for the humdrum tedium of his daily existence.

3. Hell

He was in hell.

His body went completely stiff, reeling from the shock of it, tense from the force of it.

Raging fire scorched his throat, stabbing it with flames too painful to endure. Electricity sparked through his body, igniting him with energy, preparing him for the pounce. Need – consuming, uncontrollable, unbearablenecessity– erased every rational thought from his mind.

This was like nothing he had ever smelled before. The scent was intoxicating – maddening – overpowering. He was in hell. She was his hell.

As she walked passed his seat, Edward knew that this was the girl who would be his undoing. Carlisle – his family – his pride – everything that mattered to him would be ruined for her. And he did not care. It did not matter. Nothing mattered to him in that moment except the unreal, irresistible fragrance of Bella Swan's blood. He would not have believed such a smell could exist. He had to taste it. He had to drink it. He had to kill her.

Edward met the eyes of the human – the demon – with hostile fury. How dare this stupid, thoughtless minx smell so delicious? How dare she challenge him like this? After years of perfecting his self-control, of smug, undeserved pride over his superior sense of discipline, it would come to this. He would kill an innocent girl, for a few moments of incredible, euphoric satisfaction. He was a murderer, a monster, an evil, soulless, deplorable predator.

He kept his body rigid. He was summoning every ounce of mental power that he had acquired over the past century, fighting tooth and nail the need to drink her blood her right then and there. He did not think he could resist. He could not resist.

Bella continued walking to the front of the class, stumbling over a book on her way. His glare had shocked her. With a little distance between them, Edward tried to focus – with extraordinary effort – his deranged, drunken thoughts.

No. No, no, no.

Carlisle had worked too hard to create a good life for his family. A virtuous, moral life. This was wrong. This was wrong, this was evil, this was inexcusable.

Edward kept his muscles tense. He was actually close to shaking with desire. He did not think his stone body had ever taken an impact like this before.

He thought of Carlisle. Thought of Esme. Thought of disappointing them. He could not. He would not. But he had to.

The smell was too good, too promising, to deny.

Monster.

He would have to kill the whole class. Leave no witnesses. The screams would attract attention. His family would have to move, have to start over again. People would be suspicious. They would have to hide for decades before re-entering civilization. The Volturi might get involved.

Thou shalt not kill.

The taste would be divine. He craved it. He could feel himself losing control, giving in.

Carlisle. No. Carlisle would try to hide his disappointment, would pretend he understood, but Edward would be able to read his mind. He imagined the pain he would surely see there. NO.

Edward was, for the first time in decades, in intolerable physical pain. His throat burned. His body craved the girl like a human addict might crave a drug. He was weak, so weak. He was going to surrender.

The human was walking back now, headed for the only empty seat in the classroom – right next to him. He would not be able to bear the closeness. He would have to kill her. He could not endure another second of the fire.

CARLISLE. ESME. IMAGINE THEIR FACES.

As she sat next to him, the scent attacked him again with force; it was like a blow to his senses – he would go insane if he did not taste her blood. He was already insane.

Edward leaned as far as he could away from the human, tensing every muscle in his body with intense, vigorous, furious concentration. He turned his face away from her and held his breath, refusing to breathe again until he was safely out of the classroom. He would not be responsible for the ruin of his family. He was strong.

But the memory of her intoxicating scent was still fresh in his mind, and try as he might, he could not banish it. It remained there, burning his throat, filling him with a wild, desperate longing. His mind was a haze. He had never felt desire this powerful before. It was electric. It was frightening.

No. He could not kill her there. It would ruin his family.

But he could kill her somewhere else.

He could smile at her when the bell rang, offer persuasively to walk her to her next class, and then lead her to the forest. No – someone would see them walking together and know he was involved.

He could follow her home after school. Her father would still be at work, he could slip into her house and kill her quietly. Yes.

But he didn't think he could wait that long before tasting her.

He could spill something on her. Make her rush to the bathroom. Then pretend to feel sick, ask to go to the nurse, and corner her in the bathroom. Kill her quickly, drink her blood, and then destroy the evidence.

Carlisle. Esme. Emmett. Rosalie. Jasper. Alice.

Alice.

Edward suddenly remembered the pain she had predicted, and her uncertainty about the future. "It all depends on Edward's decision," she had said.

He had been so confident that he would make the right one.

Weak, stupid, proud coward! How could he have scorned Jasper's lack of control? When minutes later he would murder an innocent girl!

"Make sure you make the right decision, Edward," Rosalie had hissed.

He could draw a new school map and replace it with the one on top of her pile of books without her noticing. She would wander aimlessly, trying to find her next class. He would ambush her with ease.

"You'll do the right thing," Emmett had said. "You're always the good guy."

Monster.

He could offer to lend her his old Biology notes. Tell her he'd left them in his car; invite her to walk with him there.

You guys should go hunting soon, Esme had thought reproachfully this morning. You look thirsty.

What would she think when she found out what he had done?

The entire hour passed like this. Edward thought of a hundred different ways to get the human alone, and fought them each back, thinking of what he could do to his family. Endangering himself was one thing; but putting them in jeopardy was out of the question.

The girl was literally his hell.

He looked down at the demon, not daring to breathe. She would taste so good. Fury pulsed through him as the thought entered his mind, the thought for which he had held Jasper in contempt for even thinking. But in that moment, as he looked at her soft, delicate curves, so easy to break, he knew he was not strong enough to resist. He would kill her.

How dare this weak, insipid, thoughtless, moronic human destroy everything he had ever worked for? Hatred for her, even stronger than the fury for himself, exuded from his cold body. She would demolish everything he had ever worked for. He would never be able to recover from this failure.

But it would be worth it. The taste would be worth it.

Worth everything he had worked for? He chastised himself incredulously. Worth his existence?

He remembered the scent again and tightened his muscles. Yes.

He would wallow in horror and guilt for the rest of his life – this was worse than any of the crimes he had committed in his past life. This girl was so vulnerable, so innocent.

And yet he was going to kill her – had to kill her. He was a monster – he did not care anymore. He was a predator. She was his prey.

Thou shalt not kill.

NO. He clenched his fists together harder, gritting his teeth, hatred pulsing through his body. His throat burned too badly. His body screamed in pain, in need. It was agony.

He despised this demon with every fiber of his being. She was looking down, her floral-scented hair covering her face. It was like she was taunting him.

The girl peeked up at him through her curtain of hair. He glared back.

At that moment, the bell sounded loudly. Edward was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat. He raced to his car, inhaling the clean, misty air, trying to fight the urge to follow the human to her next class and kill her. How he had lasted through an entire hour sitting next to her, without acting on his need, he did not know. He was still in shock.

The scorching in his throat did not leave him. He was still thirsty, still wild from the thought of her blood. He inhaled and exhaled fiercely. He flipped through the CDs in the compartment next to his seat and put on a soft jazz number, trying to soothe the electric current that was rushing through his body.

It took an entire hour before Edward could feel calm again.

And then the shame came. Mortification, shock, horror – he had never felt so revolted with himself. He was truly a monster for considering killing an innocent girl – killing an entire classroom of innocent children! – just for a few moments of bodily pleasure. Edward choked with self-disgust.

He knew he would not be able to be so close to the human again. He would either succumb to the temptation and kill her, or lose his mind from the potency of the smell. He had his family to think about.

He could do this, he convinced himself. He was strong. He just had to avoid being too close to the human.

Edward walked deftly from his car and straight to the school's main office, composing his face as he moved.

"Ms. Cope, I was wondering if I could talk to you about a schedule change."

"What sort of change?" the receptionist breathed, her thoughts becoming inappropriate. Edward impatiently tuned them out.

"I'd like to switch out of sixth-hour Biology II. Taking biology after lunch has been doing strange things to my stomach," he said, smiling sheepishly at her as if confessing a weakness. "The talk of cells and bodies gets me a little queasy right after eating."

Edward struggled to keep his face composed. It was a ludicrous excuse, but it would work on Ms. Cope's motherly mind, he knew.

Then he struggled to keep his face composed for a different reason. As she looked at her computer screen, he read in her mind that this was going to be difficult.

"The morning classes are completely full, dear," she said apologetically. "I'm very sorry. Perhaps we could talk to Mr. Banner about your problem…" She was genuinely concerned for his stomach.

"If the school could make an exception just this once, it would be so much appreciated," he said, speaking with more urgency. "I'm not picky at all. I'll sit in the back of the second period class; I'll even provide my own table and chair." The door opened and closed behind him as he spoke; he heard no thoughts, though, so he assumed someone had begun to enter and then changed his or her mind.

"Biology classes cannot hold more than twenty students, unfortunately. We only have enough laboratory materials for ten sets of two."

"What about another class, then? Perhaps senior physics? I'm already familiar with the material we cover in biology, anyway."

"I apologize, Mr. Cullen, but that is strictly against school policy. Students must adhere to the prescribed curriculum in the order it is prescribed." She was sorry, very sorry. But her thoughts were firm. She would not break the school rules.

"There must be something you can do for me, Ms. Cope," Edward insisted. "I would be content with absolutely anything other than sixth-hour biology. Any other class, any other time. I assure you I would not be any trouble."

"Mr. Cullen, I wish I could help you – I truly do," she replied, and he could see how sorrowful she was she could not give a better answer the handsome, polite young man in front of her. "But…"

Edward did not hear her reasons. At that moment, the door opened again, and a gust of cold wind blew the most dangerously tempting smell in the world right into his face.

He felt delirious. His body stiffened. He was filled once more a consuming need – need to forget every civilized mannerism he had ever adopted and give in to his instincts; to crouch down, growl viciously, and rip the demon's throat apart with his teeth. Need to lose himself in the taste of the promisingly warm, delectable blood that coursed through her veins.

He turned slowly to face her. She cowered against the wall, shock etched into her face. The thirst was so overpowering that he felt deranged, crazed. He did not know himself – he was consumed by the raging thirst, it defined him. His throat flamed angrily. His muscles twitched, urging him to attack. There was only one other frail human in the room with them – the receptionist – so easily dealt with.

Edward shot the human a look of pure venom. The inexplicable power she held over him was horrific. He was truly a monster in her presence. He had to get out of there. Immediately.

"Never mind, then," he said hastily, turning back to Ms. Cope. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." Without inhaling he turned on his heel and rushed out the door, not giving another look to the innocent, frightened-looking demon.

Once outside, he forced his body to calm down. He inhaled the fresh, wet air, waiting for his muscles to relax. It was only the sight of his family, walking toward his silver Volvo, that gave him the strength not to wait for the human, not to follow her home and take her.

He realized, with a stab of self-loathing, that he was too weak to handle this challenge.

There was no other solution. He would have to leave Forks.

4. Determination

Edward was sitting on a glacier, floating out into the water. He had run a far way from Denali, but it was the only place he felt he could be alone with his thoughts. With his old family (he winced), each couple would be occupied at night, leaving him to his solitude. But in Denali, Tanya and Irina were also single and therefore expected him to spend time with them at night. It wasn't that their company was unpleasant – in fact, he found them comforting. But Edward didn't want to be comforted. He wanted to wallow in self-loathing, to experience the full extent of the hatred and disgust he felt toward himself. He was thinking about Esme.

He hadn't yet had the courage to check his phone for the messages he was sure would be on it. Tanya had spoken to Carlisle briefly two days ago to confirm that Edward had arrived safely, but after that Edward had been too ashamed to have more contact with his family. Esme would be beside herself. He could add coward to the list of qualities he hated about himself.

Edward had always, always been the most disciplined of his family. How low I have fallen. There was nothing left to like about himself.

His mood had been dark since his arrival in Denali. He was lucky to have been welcomed so warmly by Tanya and her sisters, but his depression was too severe to allow him to return the warmth. He had mostly wandered broodingly about. On top of being cowardly and weak, he was also a miserable house-guest.

And he missed them. He had never been apart from his family since it had been fully formed, and he was surprised by how homesick he was. He longed for Carlisle's patient wisdom, Esme's maternal kindness, Alice's bubbly enthusiasm, Emmett's good-humored friendship, Jasper's soothing presence. He even missed Rosalie and her combativeness. It hurt him to think how he had hurt all of them by leaving without saying good-bye. Tanya, Irina, Carmen, and Eleazar were family, but they didn't feel like home.

He heard something behind him and laughed. "How did you find me?"

"I caught your scent while hunting with the others. I told them I'd catch up with them later," Tanya replied, hopping lightly onto his glacier.

Since Edward's return to Denali, the dynamic between him and Tanya had changed. She didn't think of him in the way she used to – she had accepted him as a friend, a brother. She was calmer around him, more rational and mature than he remembered. As he glanced over at her, sitting cross-legged on the glacier and inhaling in the cold, fresh air as she gazed out into the mountains, he felt a sense of peace. I think we're really friends now.

They sat in silence for a while, looking out into the horizon. The sun was starting to set over the mountains in a haze of pink and purple fog.

Can I tell you a story? Tanya thought.

"Of course."

She began to speak out loud, even though it was unnecessary. "When my mother died, I went through a very difficult time. I was the first one she created and we had always been particularly close. She led our family with a grace and strength that none of us could possibly emulate. We were all lost without her, but especially me.

"I love my sisters, but I didn't think I could love anyone as much as I had loved her and our baby. The pain of losing them was almost too much to bear. The grief – well, let's just say it was a time when life held very little happiness for me. I couldn't stand to be around Irina, couldn't stand to be around Carmen – couldn't stand to be around myself.

"So I made a decision.

"I decided that I didn't want to live in this world without my creator. She saved me to be her companion, and I had no right to continue living when she was gone. So I decided to go to Italy and tell the Volturi that I too played a part in creating the Immortal Child."

Edward sucked in his breath. The Volturi – the vampire coven who enforced the law of secrecy amongst all vampires – would destroy any vampire who changed a human child. "You meant them to kill you?" The idea of actually provoking the Volturi on a suicide mission had never so much as occurred to him.

"Yes. I am not proud of it, but the pain of being alive without my mother was too much for me to bear. I could not think of any other way to take my own life. "

"What happened?"

"When I landed in Italy I saw a missed call from Irina. She had no idea I had left the country. I hadn't had the courage to say good-bye. She had left a message saying that her car wasn't starting and asking some mundane question about the ignition – well, you know her, you know how hopeless she is with cars. It was such a small thing, but all of a sudden it hit me that I was needed by my sisters. They counted on me – for the littlest things, but they still counted on me. I still had something to offer them. And I thought about how my mother would feel if I abandoned them."

Edward's muscles stiffened as the pain shot through him. "What are you saying, Tanya?" he asked through clenched teeth. She didn't respond, just watched the sunset in silence. She was thinking about her mother. As he heard her thoughts, he found himself thinking about his own family. It was his responsibility to play for Esme. It was his responsibility to monitor Jasper. It was his responsibility to listen to the humans around them, so they could be sure they weren't suspected. But it was more than that. He was Alice's confidante. He was the apple of Esme's eye. He was Carlisle's oldest companion. He was Emmett's best friend. How could he have abandoned them?

After a few minutes, Tanya spoke again. "I will never be the leader that my mother was, but I am still an essential part of my family. And that gives me something to live for."

"Your mother would be proud of your leadership abilities," Edward replied instantly and sincerely. He only now realized how difficult it had been for Tanya to assume that position after her mother's death.

"When I first met you, Edward, I remember how grim you were. Always serious. You take yourself so seriously. I thought I could fix that, lighten you up a bit, but I realize now how wrong I was. Your ability to take yourself and your responsibilities seriously is one of your greatest strengths. But that doesn't mean that it can't sometimes be a weakness. Think about it. You were thirsty when you met that human, you say her blood was the most tempting scent you had ever smelled, and still you walked away. You left. You should be proud of yourself right now, not ashamed! By your own admittance, you are stronger than you thought you were."

"But what if I can't be that strong again?" Edward muttered, his eyes on the horizon, but he felt his own resolve weakening. He was starting to feel embarrassed that he had run away. Could one human really be so irresistible? He had just been thirsty, that was all! He had faced plenty of temptations in the course of his years and he had been able to resist them all. Who was Bella Swan, an insignificant little girl, to chase him away from his home and his family?

Tanya was sighing. "You are more than welcome to stay, my brother. But we all make mistakes. If we refused to forgive ourselves every time we didn't meet our own standards we'd be quite a miserable lot. Well, I guess you are a miserable lot."

Edward punched her and she laughed. Then she sighed again. "But I think you'd be less miserable if you went home."

With that he could not argue.

5. Closed Book

Are you sure you'll be okay, Edward? Esme asked worriedly.

Edward sighed. Esme had the right to be worried, he knew – but all his arrogance and pride had returned to him since his leave. He had taken all the precautions he could possibly take. He wasn't the slightest bit thirsty, having spent the past few days hunting and feeding until his stomach was uncomfortably full. He knew what to expect, and was eager to prove that he was strong. He was in control.

"I'm absolutely certain, Mom," he grinned. "I promise."

You know you don't have to do this…

"I am completely confident. I was just taken by surprise, that first time. I know what to expect now."

You will not leave again. It wasn't a question.

"No," he promised, looking sincerely into her eyes. She smiled trustingly.

Good luck.

Edward's confidence increased through the morning. He was glad to be back, he realized, with his family. He felt like he was fulfilling his duty; he hated shirking responsibility. He monitored Jasper's thoughts as usual, but this time he was filled with much more compassion and understanding. He thought about his piano piece. He solved the crossword puzzle that he had memorized in the paper that morning. He aced a Spanish test. He listened for any thoughts about his return to school, but heard none except in the minds of a few disgruntled teachers. He was extra polite to them to atone for his inexplicable ability to outshine the other students despite several days' absence. His smile melted their frostiness, as expected.

It was snowing that day. The Cullen men loved snow, their snowball fights being rather more vigorous than the human ones, and they engaged in an enthusiastic one in the forest, far from human eyes, before walking to lunch together. By the end of it they were completely soaked from head to toe. Rosalie and Alice abstained from the better portions of the action, but looked on laughing and cheering.

Bella Swan wasn't in the cafeteria yet when they entered. Edward was only slightly nervous as he thought about sitting next to her in Biology. He was sure that he could treat her as if she were any other human being; he was certain he was strong enough. They walked through the lunch line still feeling invigorated; the extra energy from the fight made it more difficult than usual to keep with the slow human pace of the line. Edwards' siblings were in high spirits, happy to have Edward back with them again. He had been missed, he noted, feeling another pang of regret for leaving them. It had been completely unnecessary.

Emmett was teasing the girls for not partaking in the snowball fight that afternoon.

"Afraid the snow might hit you too hard?" he joked.

"We just don't want to look like you – you have icicles in your hair!" Rosalie laughed.

"I can fix that," he replied cheerfully, shaking his dripping hair towards them. Edward and Jasper chuckled as Alice and Rosalie leaned away, giggling and exclaiming in protest.

Suddenly Edward heard his name in Jessica Stanley's mind: Bella Swan was watching them. He glanced at her, sitting at the same table as she had on her first day with Jessica, Mike Newton, and a few others. He had been so consumed by the remembrance of her fragrance, he had forgotten about her strange immunity to his mind-reading ability. He tried with frustration to discern what she was thinking, though she immediately dropped her eyes.

Had she noticed his deplorable behavior that first day they had met? Did she think him possessed? Had she told anyone about it?

"Edward Cullen is staring at you," Jessica was giggling, amused.

"He doesn't look angry, does he?" she responded nervously.

Uh-oh. She had noticed. He strained his mind, concentrating on her face.

"No," Jessica answered, confused. "Should he be?"

"I don't think he likes me." Jessica's mind was alight with excited curiosity at once. Her mind was a feeble teen soap opera. Edward was annoyed that he had to stoop to listening to it for information.

Moreover, he was humiliated. He had always had such incredible composure in front of humans. How could he have been so inexplicably hostile to a poor, innocent girl? He would have to be friendly to her in Biology – make her forget his mortifying display of weakness.

"The Cullens don't like anybody…well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them. But he's still staring at you." Jessica was both amused, and offended that Edward was giving Bella more attention than she had ever received. His irritation peaked. He was utterly bored with her selfish, unoriginal thoughts. He continued to look probingly at Bella for her thoughts, but her face was hidden behind her richly brown, satin smooth hair and her mind was utterly impermeable.

"Stop looking at him," she was whispering urgently. Was she frightened? Angry? Did she think he was certifiably insane? He tried to read her facial expressions, aggravated, but she didn't look towards him again. Edward had never felt so irked. How did the average person go through life, never knowing what others were thinking? It seemed like a most frustrating way to live.

Edward continued to watch Bella surreptitiously for the rest of lunch, though his brothers and sisters warned him with their thoughts not to be too obvious. She was silent as Mike Newton proposed an epic battle of the blizzard after school in the parking lot; Edward could not figure out why. Was she still thinking about him? He didn't think so; her dark eyes never once flickered toward his table; but he couldn't be sure. She just sat in silence, listening to Mike and Jessica's excited, inane chatter, her thoughts apparently elsewhere.

But where? Not knowing what she was thinking about was almost as maddening as her scent had been. This girl must have been sent from his own personal hell to torment him.

He was now eager to speak to her in Biology, hoping to finally decipher some of her thoughts. He was sure he could handle the paralyzing fragrance of her skin this time. You are in control, he reminded himself.

The snow had become cold rain, inspiring a collective groan from all the students. His siblings walked him to his biology class, trying to let him know that they believed in him. They knew this would be difficult for him. But Edward, grateful as he was for their support, was a little embarrassed at the extra attention. He had always had great strength of mind; it was annoying to be thought of as weak. He felt a surge of sympathy for Jasper. He would never be judgmental again.

You'll be fine. I can see it, Alice told him.

Good luck, Edward. They left him outside the door. He took a deep breath of fresh air and entered the classroom.

Bella was already sitting in her seat, doodling on the cover of her notebook. She didn't look up as he took his seat, still soaked with rain. She was apparently concentrating very hard on her sketch.

Her scent was as intoxicating as he remembered, but this time he was prepared for it. He used all the will power he could muster to control his instinct to kill, quiet the monster inside him. The effort almost strangled him, but the fullness in his stomach was an enormous help. Making sure his chair was as far away from her as was possible, he turned to face her, cautiously, testing himself. So far, so good. He forced a friendly smile. "Hello."

Her eyes were stunned as she looked up. She obviously thought he was a socially inept freak. He cursed himself again for his lack of control the previous week, but continued with determined courteousness. "My name is Edward Cullen. I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan."

Bella stared for another minute, still shocked. "H-how do you know my name?"

Edward chuckled – she could not possibly hope to preserve anonymity in a town like this. "Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town's been waiting for you to arrive."

She grimaced at that, surprising him. Most humans liked attention.

"No – I meant, why did you call me Bella?"

Edward was confused. "Do you prefer Isabella?" Hadn't he heard her correcting everyone she met, that first day?

"No, I like Bella. But I think Charlie – I mean my dad – must call me Isabella behind my back…that's what everyone here seems to know me as." She looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Oh," he said lamely, for lack of a better response. His usually quick mind couldn't think of any excuse. Now she had another reason to think him a freak. Great.

Bella turned away, and the scent of her hair hit him, just as stunning as the first time he had smelled it. It was divinely delicious. Fire scorched his throat. Edward tightened his fists, fighting for control, waiting for the pain to subside. It didn't. The agony was excruciating; his body twitched with its longing. Then glanced at her again. Was she suspicious? She had every right to be. But her face gave nothing away.

Mr. Banner had started class, explaining the lab they would be doing. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, they had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. They weren't supposed to use their books. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right.

Working as lab partners. Could he bear the pain? Without breaking his composure, Edward braced himself for closer interaction with the scent. This mental preparation seemed to help; he found that he could act natural. He turned to Bella and smiled easily.

"Ladies first, partner?"

She stared at him without responding, her face and mind equally blank. Edward was unnerved. Had he said something wrong?

"Or I could start, if you wish," he offered nervously.

Her face flushed with undeserved embarrassment; he watched the blood flow to her soft cheeks with a mixture of mystification and longing. "No, I'll go ahead," she said, pulling the microscope towards her.

She snapped the slide into place, adjusted the microscope, and looked through the lens. "Prophase." She began to remove the slide.

He was surprised by her confidence. "Do you mind if I look?" he asked politely, stopping her hand. It was as if he was touching a bubble in a warm bubble bath – her skin was that fragile. She felt warm, creamily smooth, delicate – he hadn't touched a human in decades, and the texture unsettled him. But more unsettling was the sting he felt when their hands met, as if an electric current had passed between them. She jerked her hand back in shock and he pulled his away immediately, cursing himself.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, realizing how unpleasant his body would feel to a human. But he continued to take the microscope from her. She was right.

"Prophase," he agreed, writing it in the first space on their worksheet. He switched out the first slide for the second and glanced at it, hardly concentrating. He was strangely aware of her brown eyes on him. He wasn't used to the rich, deep color; his family's eyes were all like his – gold when they were satiated, black when they were thirsty.

"Anaphase," he murmured absent-mindedly, writing it down as he spoke.

"May I?"

Edward tried to hide his smirk at the slight eagerness in her tone. The other humans at Forks High School readily acknowledged his family's superior intelligence and never dreamed of challenging them. He pushed the microscope toward her smugly, waiting for her to concede that he was right. But she made no comment.

"Slide three?" She held out her hand without looking up from the microscope. Edward was careful not to touch her skin this time as he handed her the next slide, amused.

"Interphase." She slid the microscope to him before he could ask for it. He peeked through the lens to confirm her answer, then scribbled it down.

They continued like this for the next two slides and were done before anyone else in the class. The burning in his throat was unbearable; Edward held his breath firmly, trying desperately not to think about her scent. Bella was looking at the table, her cheeks a faint, attractive rose. Was she embarrassed about something? He watched her searchingly, listening again for her thoughts. Nothing. Baffling.

She felt his gaze and glanced up. "Did you get contacts?" she asked suddenly.

Edward was puzzled. "No."

"Oh…I thought there was something different about your eyes…"

Oops.

She was perhaps the first human to notice the changing color of his eyes; then again, he had never been in such close quarters with a human for an extended period of time. If he had been able to read her thoughts he would have answered her question affirmatively, he realized furiously. As it was, he could only curse himself for his third blunder. He had provided the one person whose suspicions he could not keep tabs on with more than enough reasons to have suspicions. What was wrong with him?

Her hand stirred the air. That mouthwatering fragrance…he felt heady, delirious. He clenched his hands into tight fists, his muscles rigid, and averted his face. You are in control, he thought angrily. But the suffering was almost unbearable.

Mr. Banner walked over to their table, noticing their inactivity. He looked over their shoulders to glance at the completed lab, then stared more intently to check the answers.

"So, Edward, didn't you think Isabella should get a chance with the microscope?"

"Bella," Edward corrected reflexively. He felt so used to her name that the incorrect version felt personally annoying. "Actually, she identified three of the five."

Mr. Banner looked at Bella, skeptical.

"Have you done this lab before?"

She smiled embarrassedly. The expression confused Edward; it reminded him of her reluctance to admit to Mike Newton that she had read all the books on her English syllabus. Didn't humans like to flaunt their trivial accomplishments?

"Not with onion root."

"Whitefish blastula?"

"Yeah."

Mr. Banner nodded, realizing that he was faced with two overachieving students in this class.

"Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?"

"Yes."

Mr. Banner thought for a moment, annoyed. He wasn't used to having unusually bright students in his classes. They upset the balance and challenged his teaching methods. His thoughts turned angry at other schools for messing with simple, straightforward curriculums. First the Cullens, now this girl.

"Well…I guess it's good you two are lab partners." He walked away. "Let the other kids actually learn something for themselves," he was muttering, thoughts still irritated. Edward was strangely proud of his demon for being smart as well as pretty, for a human. It would be mortifying if these challenges to his self-control and his mind-reading ability came from someone less than impressive.

He glanced back at Bella; she was doodling on her notebook again. Did she still think he didn't like her? He searched for a safe topic, one that would allow for friendly small talk, and landed on the weather. He had to seem as human as possible, after all his erratic behavior.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?"

"Not really." Her voice was flat. Odd. Everyone in Forks was crazy about snow. He thought about her silence during Mike's epic snowball fight proposal. Then he remembered that she had moved here from Arizona.

"You don't like the cold," he realized aloud.

"Or the wet."

"Forks must be a difficult place for you to live."

"You have no idea," she muttered darkly. Edward was fascinated. Her eyes, so sweet and devoid of small-town pettiness, were charmingly amusing when they assumed this mutinous expression. It was as if an innocent toddler was crossing its arms and scowling fiercely.

Edward's family always lived in small, country towns; their diet required closeness to wildlife, and the density of big cities would provide them with too much temptation. They were strong, but resisting human smells was nevertheless painful. Small town life was necessary.

So the only humans whose minds Edward was accustomed to hearing were rural folk, always blissfully content with their simplistic lifestyles and fiercely loyal to the town in which they, and their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents, had always lived. Bella's displeasure with Forks, therefore, was a complete novelty.

"Why did you come here, then?" he asked.

"It's…complicated," she said. She was evading the question.

Utterly infuriating. He wasn't going to let her get away so easily.

"I think I can keep up," he pressed.

Bella didn't look at him for a very long time. Edward felt himself growing exponentially more impatient, waiting for her elusive thoughts to make themselves known. He couldn't understand what she could possibly find so interesting about the black table. Finally, she met his gaze.

"My mother got remarried."

Ah. Understanding flooded through him, accompanied by relief that his impatience had finally been rewarded. Poor girl.

"That doesn't sound so complex," he said kindly. "When did that happen?"

"Last September," she answered, her voice sad.

"And you don't like him," he sympathized. Edward really did feel sorry for her. His own home was the one place where he never had to hide; where he could always find love and comfort and relief. Having to choose between two evils, two disagreeable homes, must be very difficult.

"No, Phil is fine. Too young, maybe, but nice enough."

He had been wrong? He was never wrong.

"Why didn't you stay with them?" he demanded.

"Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living." She half-smiled.

Ah – there it was. Edward felt relief again as this new solution to his queries presented itself; once again, he pitied the girl. Her mother must be selfish, nothing like Esme.

Edward smiled back. "Have I heard of him?"

"Probably not. He doesn't play well. Strictly minor league. He moves around a lot."

"And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him," he nodded understandingly.

Bella's chin raised; she looked slightly offended. "No, she did not send me here. I sent myself."

Edward struggled mentally, sorting through all the human thoughts he had ever heard, searching furiously for one that would fit this unexpected explanation.

"I don't understand," he finally admitted in frustration.

Bella sighed, and Edward's curiosity was piqued again.

"She stayed with me at first, but she missed him. It made her unhappy. So I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Charlie," she explained glumly.

Edward was still confused. "But now you're unhappy."

"And?" she challenged. What kind of response was that?

"That doesn't seem fair," he said, shrugging to alleviate the intensity of his interrogation. He was utterly perplexed. When did a human ever do anything without self-interest?

"Hasn't anyone ever told you?" she laughed humorlessly. He was surprised by the sarcasm in her voice. "Life isn't fair."

"I believe I have heard that somewhere," he agreed ironically. Indeed, Edward probably knew that better than she did; the agonizing scorching flame in his throat, the thing he would never be able to escape, was proof. But he had never seen a human teenager accept it so resignedly. People usually expected their parents to make the sacrifices for them.

He stared at the strange girl, perturbed, trying to figure out if she was being sincere.

"So that's all," she said with raised eyebrows, wondering what more he wanted from her.

He examined her face. This close to her, he felt angry with Eric Lee's stupid mind for portraying her so inaccurately. The expression there was lovely. Bravery and determination blazed in her warm eyes; genuineness and integrity glowed in their depths. She must be telling him the truth – those eyes were incapable of artfulness.

He thought about what she had said, about sending herself to Forks, and the sadness that she had tried in vain to mask in her voice.

"You put on a good show," he said thoughtfully. "But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

Bella didn't like that at all. She shot him a dirty look and looked away. She did not want to be felt sorry for. Edward liked that. He was the same way.

"Am I wrong?" He couldn't help but smile; she was just so endearingly annoyed. She didn't answer him, glaring at the chalkboard.

"I didn't think so." He was glad to finally have guessed something right.

"What does it matter to you?" she asked in an irritated voice, her eyes on Mr. Banner.

Edward hadn't thought of that. "That's a very good question."

Why did it matter to him what was going on in the mind of Bella Swan? He couldn't remember ever feeling so caught up in a human's responses before. He was suddenly incomprehensibly desperate to know everything about her – her family, her friends, her childhood, her likes, her dislikes. She was just so different from everyone else. He wasn't used to being surprised by a human.

Bella sighed. He glanced over and saw her scowling at the blackboard. Again, the angry expression entertained him – it was so funny to see it sitting unnaturally on her face, completely out of place. He found himself wanting to laugh.

"Am I annoying you?"

She looked over at him, the angry expression melting easily into more characteristic sweetness. "Not exactly. I'm more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read – my mother always calls me her open book." She frowned.

"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read," Edward confided.

"You must be a good reader then," Bella said.

"Usually," he grinned, stifling a laugh.

Mr. Banner called the class to order then and Bella whipped her head forward. The irresistible smell of her hair washed over him. Her smell was so fresh and inviting – floral, somehow. He almost groaned with the painful desire. Predator instincts tensed his body, filling his mouth with venom. His hands were twitching, urging him to reach for her throat and attack. He leaned away from her and gripped the table, forcing himself not to give in. He held his breath, waiting anxiously for the bell.

When that welcome sound rang he rushed from the room with relief, letting his muscles relax. Once away from her scent, he inhaled a deep breath of air. He had done it – he had controlled himself. He strutted to his next class almost jauntily.

After school, Edward waited for his family by his silver Volvo with anticipation, eager to tell them about his victory and hear the admiration and pride in their thoughts. As he stood there, leaning against the front door of the car, he saw Bella Swan across the parking lot. He watched her, the unexplainable curiosity returning. She was rushing through the misty rain towards an ancient, faded red Chevy truck with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. Edward eyed it dubiously; it looked like it was about to fall apart any minute.

Bella started the truck; the engine roared loudly to life, startling the students nearby. She unzipped her jacket, put her hood down, and fluffed out her damp hair, clearly anxious for warmth and dryness. Edward thought wistfully about his own body, unaffected by the cold. He had forgotten about how much humans reacted to changes in weather. He wondered why he cared.

Bella began to glance around her, making sure the way was clear. Her eyes caught his gaze; immediately, she spun her head forward and threw her truck into reverse, not seeing the Toyota Corolla behind her. She slammed on the brake just in time, flushing bright red.

Edward couldn't help it – he burst into laughter. Perhaps this exceptional human was not so immune to him, after all.

6. Phenomenon

"Good morning," Edward said cheerfully, stuffing a handful of snow down Emmett's collar as he walked outside. Emmett retaliated immediately and a warp-speed snowball fight ensued, only ending when Esme called to them that they had to leave for school in five minutes. They both zoomed upstairs to change clothes and zoomed back down.

"Edward, what was that new song you were playing last night? I haven't heard it before," Carlisle asked as they re-entered the dining room, his nose in his newspaper. He looked almost human – reading the paper before heading to work.

"It was absolutely beautiful," Esme added, smiling. "Carlisle and I listened all night. I'm so happy you're composing again." She placed her hand on his cheek, looking at him adoringly. She was so sweet.

The truth was, Edward had sat down at the piano that night intending to plunk out his angry, diminished key composition. But as soon as his fingers touched the instrument, a new melody had come to him as if by divine inspiration.

The main line was simple; sweet, major-key, soft. But beneath it, in the bass line began to change it, introducing intricate, multi-faceted chords and harmonies that complicated the melody, drawing out its different potentials, providing it with peculiarly exotic characteristics, surprising him even as he played.

Surprising him like Bella Swan.

The piece was unquestionably about her. Soft, natural, and beautiful on the outside; intriguingly profound on the inside. If he had been thinking about her scent, he could have included a hellish, tormented movement in the piece. As it was, her scent had not even crossed his mind as he played.

"It's a work in progress," he told them, grinning cheerfully. "A lullaby, I think." Both of them looked appraisingly at his facial expression, then glanced at each other.

You seem to be in a good mood, they were both thinking, surprised.

"Snow," Edward offered, although he knew that had nothing to do with his good mood. He was, more than anything else, excited to get to school. He was eager to see her again, to talk to her, to find out more about her.

Why? he wondered. Her scent had been immeasurably painful yesterday, same as the first time he met her; tempting him to behave monstrously, seducing his inner predator. He should want to avoid her at all costs. But she was just so fascinatingly different – so unpredictable. He wanted to know her; wanted to know what she was thinking and be able to guess what she would say next.

He decided that it was her unreadable thoughts that intrigued him; it provided him with a new project – the study of a mind that evaded him. Edward was always excited about new projects. Yes, that must be it.

His spirits in the car on the way to school were so elevated that he heard the surprise in all of his siblings' thoughts. Was he really acting that different? Surely he always grinned like this, always joked and laughed with them? What was he usually like?

And why was the idea of talking to Bella Swan enough to change him?

Edward maneuvered the car with skill over the black ice that covered the roads and pulled into a parking spot four car down from Bella's giant truck. She was getting carefully out of her cab, holding on to the frame for support. She hadn't seen him yet.

Edward and his siblings walked out of the car carelessly, their grace unaffected by the slippery ground. He heard himself chuckle as he watched Bella walk slowly to the back of her truck, clutching the side, clearly expecting to slip and fall at any moment. Were humans always this hilariously unbalanced?

She was examining her tires. Strangely, she looked upset about something. Edward felt the wave of frustration as he tried vainly to hear her thoughts. What could she possibly be upset about? But the irritation was accompanied by something else, something he couldn't place. It was as though he didn't want her to be sad.

"Oh!" Alice exclaimed in dismay. Edward read her mind. A moment later sickening, paralyzing horror gripped him. She had seen Bella Swan, crushed between her truck and a dark blue van, dead. The image was like a blow to his body.

A screech caught their attention and they turned. Tyler Crowley's van was skidding across the parking lot, tires locked and squealing against the breaks, spinning wildly over the ice – only seconds away from hitting Bella. He whipped his head toward her and his eyes locked on hers, their faces sharing identical expressions of shock and fear.

Not her.

Suddenly his legs were carrying him without his knowing it. He was running unreservedly. He was lunging, arms outstretched. He was falling to the ground on top of something soft. Edward heard Bella's head slam loudly against the icy blacktop and felt frantic. Had he cracked her head open?

But he didn't have time to worry about that. He realized that the van, which had hit the corner of her truck, was still spinning with momentum. It was coming for the warm, fragile, delicious-smelling bundle beneath him again.

Edward swore, the first time he had ever done so in a lady's presence. He braced his body against the tan car behind him and shoved the van forcefully away from her; it teetered away from his blow, balancing for a fraction of a second on its two left tires. Then it began to fall back onto its right side, the back tire inches above Bella's slender legs. With light-speed motion, Edward held the van up with his left hand, swung Bella's body around with his right until her legs hit the tire of a tan car, and then let the van drop. Its windows shattered loudly.

It was absolutely silent for one long second before the screaming began. Edward looked in panic at the heap of girl lying limply against his body.

"Bella? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Her voice came back to him weak with shock. He breathed a sigh of relief. On the other side of Tyler's van, chaos was ensuing.

She tried to sit up, but he held her tightly against his body.

"Be careful. I think you hit your head pretty hard," he warned.

Bella thought for a moment. "Ow," she said. Her surprised expression was delightful. He suppressed a laugh. He was almost giddy with relief.

"That's what I thought."

"How in the…" she looked dazed. "How did you get over here so fast?"

Uh-oh.

"I was standing right next to you, Bella," he lied in the serious, confident tone that always made humans doubt themselves.

She tried again to sit up and this time he let her, releasing his hold around her waist and sliding as far from her as he could in the limited space. It would be so easy to drink her blood now – she was so close to him. He held his breath immediately, watching as she blinked at him, disoriented. Was her head okay? If he had hurt her… He repressed a shudder at the thought. Then he realized he had just thought about biting her throat.

He had major issues.

Next to them, a crowd of hysterical people were yelling and crying. Bella noticed and tried to stand up, but Edward restrained her. Alice's nauseating vision appeared in his head again; he shoved her back to the ground with more force than he had intended to use. "Just stay put for now," he commanded as the people tried pitifully to move the van. She still looked woozy and he was more aware than ever of how fragile her body was. He knew humans sometimes fainted when they stood up too quickly after experiencing a shock.

"But it's cold," she complained. He chuckled. Of course she was more upset about the cold than the severe head injury he had given her.

"You were over there," she said suddenly. "You were by your car."

Big uh-oh. Her voice was weak, but sure.

This was, potentially, very bad. He had blatantly demonstrated his supernatural speed and strength for her. If she suspected what he was – if she told people what she had seen…

He looked at her coldly. "No, I wasn't."

"I saw you," she insisted.

If she stuck to her story he was going to have to kill her. It was both what he wanted most in the world and what he could absolutely not bear. He looked at her beseechingly, intently, praying that those deep eyes would understand without understanding.

"Bella, I was standing with you, and I pulled you out of the way."

"No." She set her jaw.

"Please, Bella," he begged, still looking at her meaningfully.

"Why?"

"Trust me," he pleaded softly. This is for you as much as it is for me.

"Will you promise to explain everything to me later?"

"Fine," he said impatiently and untruthfully.

"Fine," she snapped back.

It took six EMTs and two teachers – Mr. Varner and Coach Clapp – to shift the van far enough away from them to bring the stretchers in. Edward sighed impatiently at the weakness of the humans, but did not offer to help; he had to, now more than ever, play up to his façade.

He vehemently refused his stretcher, but interceded when Bella stubbornly tried to do the same. Her bravery was starting to more closely resemble insanity. Wasn't she aware of how fragile she was, and how loud the sound of her head against the ice had been? He winced again at the memory. He could so easily have protected her vulnerable skull if he had thought of it at the time. Bella glared angrily at him as the EMTs strapped her in.

Edward could hear the shocked, furious disapproval in his siblings' thoughts as he climbed into the passenger seat of the ambulance and avoided their gazes. He knew they would begin to get rid of the evidence as soon as the parking lot was clear. The dents in the tan car and blue van were too perfectly shaped to his body. In the meantime, he was relieved to be heading to the hospital. He needed to talk to Carlisle.

He had to wait for a while for his adopted father to come out of surgery. He intercepted him eventually and pulled him to his office, relating in a low, rapid voice the events of the morning. Carlisle's expression was torn between being alarmed and impressed, but there was no disapproval in his thoughts. Edward was glad to have his father's compassion on his side; he would need it, when facing his siblings that night.

Has she told anyone what she saw?

"Not yet. I convinced her not to, for now at least."

But she might, eventually? Carlisle's mind was working rapidly, searching for ways to protect both the girl and his family.

Edward paused. "I don't know," he confessed. The girl's blank mind never failed to thwart him.

Don't say anything else to her, for now. Let her remain confused. She may just convince herself that she imagined things.

Edward nodded. "I hit her head pretty hard the blacktop when I pushed her out of the van's way. She may have a concussion. That would help us."

But somehow the thought of having hurt her was not at all comforting.

Alice's vision had remained in his mind – the image of a limp, lifeless Bella, her slim, delicate, warm body crushed between two massive cars – haunting him. He paced anxiously, waiting for the nurses to think about Bella's X-rays so he could be sure she was okay. It wasn't until after the test results came back, all perfect, that Edward felt unexpected exuberance rush through him. Relief and triumph gave him a strange high. She was safe.

Carlisle was on his way to discharge her. Edward strode into her hospital room, amused to find a bandaged Tyler Crowley mumbling a stream of apologies to a silent Bella. Tyler was tormented, but optimistic; he was planning on taking her out on a date to make it up to her. Edward grinned internally at Tyler's idiotic thoughts. He noticed that the scent of his dried blood was surprisingly easy to ignore. Even exposed, it had nothing on the allure of Bella's fragrance. He walked to the edge of her bed, carefully.

Her eyes were shut and her face was turned away from Tyler. A slightly irritated expression lingered on her face, and Edward couldn't help but smirk.

"Is she sleeping?" he asked Tyler. Her eyes opened immediately and she glared at him, clearly angry to be lying in a hospital bed while he was strolling through the hospital of his own accord. She had no idea how breakable she was.

"Hey, Edward, I'm really sorry – " Tyler began, and Edward held up a hand to stop him.

"No blood, no foul," he said easily. He moved to sit on the edge of Tyler's bed, facing Bella, entertained by the scowl on her face.

"So, what's the verdict?"

"There's nothing wrong with me at all, but they won't let me go," she replied angrily. Above other things, he was glad that he had been able to interpret her facial expression correctly. It made not hearing her thoughts a little more bearable. "How come you aren't strapped to a gurney like the rest of us?"

"It's all about who you know," he replied comfortably. "But don't worry, I came to spring you."

Carlisle walked in at that moment, reading over Bella's charts. "So, Miss Swan, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she recited insistently. She was so ridiculously defiant.

He walked to the light board on the wall over her head and turned it on.

"Your X-rays look good," said Carlisle. "Does your head hurt? Edward said you hit it pretty hard."

"It's fine," Bella sighed in annoyance, glaring at Edward. He stifled a laugh.

Carlisle probed lightly along her skull and Bella winced. "Tender?" he asked.

"Not really." This time Edward couldn't control his chuckle. She threw him another dirty look.

"Well, your father is in the waiting room – you can go home with him now. But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all."

"Can't I go back to school?"

"Maybe you should take it easy today."

She looked at Edward now, eyes narrow. "Does he get to go to school?"

"Someone has to spread the good news that we survived," Edward replied smugly.

"Actually," Carlisle corrected, "most of the school seems to be in the waiting room."

"Oh no," Bella moaned and covered her face with her hands. Quite the attention seeker.

Carlisle raised his eyebrows. "Do you want to stay?"

"No, no!" she insisted, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and hopping down quickly. Too quickly — she staggered, and Carlisle caught her, wondering if she was okay, after all.

"I'm fine," she reassured him.

"Take some Tylenol for the pain," he suggested.

"It doesn't hurt that bad," she replied stubbornly. Much more insane than brave.

"It sounds like you were extremely lucky," Carlisle smiled at her as he signed her chart.

"Lucky Edward happened to be standing next to me," she amended, looking darkly at him. His happy mood vanished.

"Oh, well, yes…" Carlisle said vaguely, moving away. Don't panic, he told Edward in his thoughts. It will work out.

Bella headed straight for Edward as soon as Carlisle turned to Tyler.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she hissed.

The overpowering scent hit him, stunningly delicious; he was less prepared for it this time. His body went rigid, his pupils dilated with desire. He took a step back away from her and willed himself not to inhale.

You can handle this, Edward, Carlisle thought warningly.

"Your father is waiting for you," he said through clenched teeth. He hadn't the slightest idea of what to say to her.

"I'd like to speak with you alone, if you don't mind," she pressed.

Edward glared. Of course she was going to be difficult. Everything about this human was specifically designed to torment him: her intoxicating scent, her impermeable mind, her fascinating unpredictability, and now her stubborn adherence to what she had seen.

What she had seen…

Suddenly, the magnitude of the problem dawned on him. She had seen him cross the parking lot in a fraction of a second, stop a speeding van with his hands, and lift it off of her. How could he possibly explain that? What would she tell people? How was his family going to avoid suspicion now? How could he put them in danger like this?

He was instantly horror-struck. As if he needed another excuse to kill Bella!

He turned his back and strode down the long room, turning the corner into a short hallway. He remembered what Carlisle had told him: Don't say anything else to her…Let her remain confused. But he knew she wouldn't be that easy.

He was furious. It was all his fault. He had put himself at her mercy. He had compromised his family. His siblings would hate him. The life they had set up here was ruined. They would have to live in hiding for decades, or kill her before she could say the words that made it necessary. Anger and horror coursed through him as he walked, knowing how much trouble he was in, and when he whipped himself around to face her, he knew only that he had to shut this obstinate girl up before she unintentionally submitted herself to murder by a family of vampires.

She wasn't going to get another word out of him.

"What do you want?" He made his voice cold and unfriendly.

"You owe me an explanation." She faltered, surprised by his tone.

"I saved your life – I don't owe you anything," he said cuttingly.

She flinched. "You promised."

"Bella, you hit your head. You don't know what you're talking about," he filled his voice with all the scathing sarcasm he could muster, knowing full well she deserved none of it.

She was angry, now, too. "There's nothing wrong with my head," she spat.

"What do you want from me, Bella?"

"I want to know the truth. I want to know why I'm lying for you."

It was his only chance. He had to persuade her that she was crazy.

"What do you think happened?"

"All I know is that you weren't anywhere near me — Tyler didn't see you, either, so don't tell me I hit my head too hard. That van was going to crush us both — and it didn't, and your hands left dents in the side of it — and you left a dent in the other car, and you're not hurt at all — and the van should have smashed my legs, but you were holding it up…" She was grinding her teeth together with fury.

But her memory was completely accurate. This was bad, very bad. Edward assumed an incredulous expression.

"You think I lifted a van off you?" he said it as if worried about her sanity.

She merely nodded once, jaw tight.

"Nobody will believe that, you know." He made his voice scornful, contemptuous. He had to at least dissuade her from spreading this story.

"I'm not going to tell anybody," she glared.

He felt the surprise flit across his face. "Then why does it matter?"

"It matters to me. I don't like to lie – so there'd better be a good reason why I'm doing it."

There was a good reason. But it wasn't one he could tell her.

"Can't you just thank me and get over it?" he snapped. Please, dear God, let her just get over it.

"Thank you," she fumed, still waiting.

"You're not going to let it go, are you?"

"No." Of course not.

"In that case…I hope you enjoy disappointment."

They glared at each other. Edward felt slightly sick. What if she told? Was she going to ruin his life? Or worse, his family's life?

"Why did you even bother?" she finally asked, her voice frigid.

That stumped him.

He stared at her blankly. He hadn't thought of that question.

With all his concern about the consequences of his actions, he hadn't even thought about the motivation. He had acted on impulse; it had come so naturally at the time. Why on earth had he compromised his family, his lifestyle, everything – to save the girl who threatened those things the most? What was she to him?

He couldn't think of a single explanation.

"I don't know," he whispered.

He had to get away from her. She did something to him – she was like a mythical creature who rendered him powerless. He walked swiftly away, struggling to regain control.

There would be hell to pay for this, he knew.

"Edward, are you insane? How can you possibly think about keeping her alive after this?" Rosalie was shouting.

They had been arguing for almost an hour. His family had never fought like this before.

"She's an innocent girl. I will not be responsible for taking the life of an innocent girl," Edward said coldly.

"Innocent she may be, but her existence is a perpetual danger to us. You have to understand that. We can never be safe while she is alive," Jasper said seriously.

"We can take care of ourselves, Jazz," Alice pleaded, taking Edward's side but reluctant to fight with Jasper.

"Edward, think about it," Emmett agreed. "Not only can you not control yourself around her, but she knows too much. One casual word to her friends, to her dad, and we're screwed."

"You risked all of our lives this morning, do you understand that?" Rosalie was the least composed of them. "People already thought there was something strange about us! And then all of a sudden you're lifting cars in front of them?"

"I already told you, Rosalie, if her blood had been spilled right in front of me, I would have exposed us in a much more obvious, dangerous way! Haven't I described how potent the smell of her blood is for me – do you really think I would have been able to stop myself from feeding, in front of everyone? I had to do it!" Edward was shouting.

"But is that really why you did?" Carlisle asked quietly. Edward spun around and hesitated. He could not lie to his father.

"No," he finally admitted calmly. "I did not want her to die. I do not want her to die."

"Why not? Is she more important to you than your family?" Rosalie screamed.

"Edward, you are being ridiculous. She's mortal, she'll die eventually anyway!" Emmett exclaimed.

"That doesn't give us the right to decide when!" Edward thundered back.

"So you want to compromise us all – "

"We don't know that we are being compromised!"

"But there will always be that danger, Edward. Don't you see?"

"Jasper, Edward is right. We cannot take the life of an innocent victim for our own self-interest. If we want to leave, if we have to move, we will do it. Our safety is not worth becoming murderers for. Every life is precious."

"Carlisle, moving may not guarantee our safety. We aren't exactly inconspicuous – people will recognize her descriptions."

"If we are watched – by anyone – don't you think it will become obvious?" Rosalie screeched. "That we never eat, that our eyes change color, any fool can see these differences! An eye-witness will ruin us!"

"If we don't kill this one girl, there is a chance we may have to kill many, many more people in the future," Emmett added.

"You are not all in danger. The human only saw me display supernatural powers." Edward said angrily. "You will not be watched."

"As if that will protect us - "

"No, Edward. We are a family. We stick together. You will not leave us."

"Then what do you propose, Esme?" Rosalie turned to her adopted mother who was looking agonized. Edward was pained to see the hurt in her face.

"Edward," Esme looked in his eyes. "You must do whatever you need to do to stay with us. Even if it involves killing her. But you will not leave us again. You will not."

"Esme, dear," Carlisle took her hand. "You cannot truly ask that of our son. He cannot become a murderer."

"Better that then to abandon his family!" Esme cried.

"Edward can't leave anyway. Now more than ever we have to know what people think of us!" Emmett exclaimed.

"Carlisle, be reasonable," Jasper begged. "We cannot waste any time – we must eliminate her before she puts us in danger!"

"We are not going to eliminate her!"

"Edward, she is an insignificant human! She is not worth this!"

Edward snarled.

"Stop it," Carlisle said calmly, stepping between them. He turned to his daughter. "Rosalie, are we worth it, then? If we can even consider murdering an innocent child, are we worth protecting? The occasional lapse of control is a regrettable part of who we are. But deliberate, planned murder is unforgivable. The risk Bella poses to us is nothing compared to the risk we pose to ourselves right now. We are risking so much more by committing murder: we are risking our identity, our morals, everything that we pride ourselves on. Is that really worth losing to you?"

Edward heard Rosalie's thoughts hesitate, but Jasper remained unmoved.

"She would have died today anyway, Carlisle. It was the natural course her life was going to take. Edward interfered with that course. Now we must set things right."

Another enraged snarl escaped from Edward's chest. "You call murder setting things right?"

Carlisle put a calming hand on his shoulder, but something else suddenly claimed their attention.

Alice's face had gone blank. Everyone turned towards her with bated breath, wondering whose side would be declared the winner of this argument.

Edward saw what she saw at once, and froze. He couldn't feel his body. He couldn't breathe. He was a statue.

Alice's eyes widened with surprised joy. "You can't murder Bella, Jazz," she said cheerfully, taking his hand and shaking it to loosen the rigid pose he had assumed in response to Edward's growl. "She's my friend, and you wouldn't want to hurt my friend, would you?"

Jasper stared at her, confused. Edward remained unmoving, his brain paralyzed, aghast.

"Your friend?"

"Well, not yet. But she's going to be! She's going to be all of our friend, actually," Alice said, turning happily to Carlisle, thinking the matter closed.

Carlisle looked shocked. "Alice, are you saying…"

"Exactly. I just saw it, clear as day. Bella Swan is going to be one of us."

An astonished silence greeted this merry announcement. Edward shook his head to clear it.

"NO."

"Edward, what…?"

"Calm down…"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT. NO."

"Relax, son…"

"YOU," he turned to Carlisle accusingly. "You always said you would never inflict this cursed life on someone who had anything to lose. That girl has her whole life ahead of her!"

"Edward will you please relax? I never suggested taking her life!"

"Not just her life – her soul! Everything that is good about her! She is completely innocent, Carlisle!"

"I know that Edward - "

"THEN HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN? HOW COULD YOU LET HER BECOME A DEPLORABLE, EVIL, SOULLESS MONSTER?"

"He hasn't done anything yet, idiot!" Rosalie hissed. Edward turned to her and unleashed a furious, blood-curling roar.

Emmett stepped in front of her, growling back. The two approached one another, expressions menacing.

"Boys! Boys, please!" Esme exclaimed in horror. Both of them heard the dismay in their sweet mother's tone and calmed themselves immediately.

"This is despicable! You will all control yourselves at once! We do not behave this way in our family!" Carlisle barked. "Edward!"

Edward inhaled sharply, fighting for control. He was still shaking.

"I apologize Carlisle. I do not know what got into me."

"It is not me you have to apologize to!"

"Rosalie?"

Rosalie turned around, her expression livid.

"I apologize. Truly, I do. That was inexcusable behavior, and it will never happen again, no matter our differences in opinion. I cannot imagine what came over me. Forgive me."

She continued to glare at him. I'll forgive you when you stop putting our family in danger, she was thinking – she would not say that out loud in front of Carlisle. He understood her thoughts suddenly – she was jealous. Jealous that he, who had seen no value in her, could suddenly be so absorbed by a human. Edward shook his head at her vanity and tuned her out. He turned to his brother.

"Emmett?"

Emmett was grinning easily; he had already forgiven his brother.

"Just don't attack Rose, man."

"That will never happen. I am so sorry for making it seem that way," he said with self-reproach. He was silent for a moment and the others watched him think. "You are right, Rose. I did put our family in danger. I have behaved unforgivably.

"But the danger is greater to myself than to anyone else. If Bella Swan confides in anyone – and she did lead me to believe that she would not – then I am the only family member in immediate danger. If, then, she confides in anyone, I will leave. Yes, Esme," he added as his mother opened her mouth to protest, "I will leave if and only if it is necessary. Of course, I will return to the family when it is safe again.

"But I will not allow Bella to be harmed, and I will not allow her to become one of us," he said firmly. "That girl has never experienced an evil impulse in her life. We will not provide her with her first one. I've spoken to her, I know her. She is utterly selfless; she has never even considered hurting another person. She is not a monster. She deserves better than eternal damnation." He looked at Carlisle, who nodded, eyes tight; the talk of monsters and eternal damnation had pained him. Rosalie snorted disparagingly from the corner.

The family thawed out after his speech. His words were not ideal, but they were the only ones they could accept.

"And how do you plan to proceed from here?" Rosalie asked scathingly.

"I will not speak to the girl again. I will not be any more involved in her life. I cannot imagine how I might be a danger to her if we never interact." The words choked his throat as he walked out of the room.

And so began the most miserable weeks of Edward's life.

7. Invitation

Edward listened to Bella's conversations all the next day, eavesdropping on the minds of everyone she spoke to. She was the center of attention, constantly harassed with questions, so it was a very consuming task. People were endlessly asking her to relive the events of her near-fatal disaster. Edward began to feel sorry for her. Irritation was not registering in other people's thoughts, but knowing what little he did about her, he was sure it must be there.

At first he looked forward to his impending departure from Forks, certain that Bella would tell Jessica or Mike or Tyler or Charlie about his strange abilities. She was only human; humans dearly loved a scandal. And she had been so stubbornly sure of what she had seen.

He was shocked. She never broke from his story.

She explained, time and again, that he was a hero – that he had been standing right next to her, had pulled her out of the way, and had nearly been crushed himself. He heard her displeasure at lying every time she told the fake story.

But she told it nonetheless.

Edward was awed with gratitude that he could not let himself express. Why was she protecting him? He didn't understand her at all; what possible motivation could she have for lying for him? Suddenly his demon was his angel. His family was safe.

But in spite of that, he had to stay away from her. In spite of what she was doing for him, he had to treat her coldly, rebuffing any potential for further discussion. Under no account would he let Alice's vision come true. He had thought about it for a less than a second last night – about having Bella be one of his family, having her with him forever, maybe even being able to read her mind once they were the same species. The thought had filled him with joyous hope. But he had cast it away immediately in self-disgust. She would never forgive him for taking away her precious, sacred humanity. He would never forgive himself for it. He had to protect her.

He arrived in their Biology classroom before she did that day, seating himself apprehensively. He wasn't sure what to expect. Was she going to begin questioning him again? Yell at him in front of the class? Accuse him of having supernatural powers?

He stared straight ahead, his expression hard, resolute. He concentrated on how Bella had selflessly given up a home she loved for her mother's happiness. He, too, could give up pleasure for her sake. She deserved that.

So he did not turn his head when she took her seat next to him, but the overpowering scent that emanated from her skin stiffened his muscles nonetheless – adding to his cold affectation, no doubt.

"Hello, Edward," she said, her voice surprisingly pleasant.

How badly he wanted to turn to her and thank her for keeping his secret; to study her eyes and discern what she thought of him now! But he forced himself not to do it, keeping Alice's vision in his mind. He turned his head a fraction toward her without meeting her gaze, nodded once, and then looked straight ahead again with the same hard expression.

He was aching with two completely opposite longings – the longing to kill her, to tear her throat, to drink her deliciously tempting blood; and the longing to talk to her, to know her. But he could not give in to either longing.

He had always had naturally pleasant, courteous mannerisms. The intolerably offensive conduct he was now assuming went completely against the grain. But it worked. Bella did not speak to him again.

They lived as strangers, although they sat next to each other every day in Biology; always, her presence was electrifying. His behavior towards her in class was that of indifferent oblivion; he continued pretending to ignore her existence; and although they sometimes had to work as partners, they never spoke more than was necessary. She followed his lead, remaining as cold and indifferent as he did. It was torturous.

Before class, Mike Newton began to sit on the edge of the table and chat with her. Edward would look away, face hard and blank, but listening to every word with heartache. This boy's chatter was infuriatingly insubstantial, and his admiring feelings towards Bella almost insulting. But Edward had no right to criticize. He had no right to feel anything about her.

Edward never broke composure in public, and never let on that he was thinking about Bella at home. He returned to nights of endless studying, but he was only half-concentrating; his mind always seemed to creep back to her: her warm, deep eyes, her fair, satin skin, her richly brown hair, her impossible stubbornness, her mouthwatering scent. New projects no longer gave him any sort of excitement; he learned languages and sciences and facts just as diligently, but without enthusiasm.

His memory was plagued by their few conversations. Her scowl had been so delightful, so funny; nothing made him laugh like that anymore. Her sense of independence had been so impressive; for someone so vulnerable, she was unbelievably brave - it made him want to protect her even more. Her easy blush had been so endearing; it contrasted beautifully with the quiet confidence with which she conducted herself.

Her mind had fascinated him. She was unlike any other human he had ever met. He watched her without her knowing for weeks, eavesdropping on her conversations when he could. She was clearly above all the petty rivalries and jealousies of other teenage girls; never once did she engage in the slanderous gossip that Jessica Stanley loved. Sometimes, when her friends were talking about more mundane subjects, her face acquired a dreamy, thoughtful expression that was both lovely and mystifying. He longed to know what she was thinking about; the fact that he could never know hurt him.

She was smart, for a human. He could hear it in people's thoughts. She did well in all her classes, particularly in English. Her papers, he read through the mind of her impressed teacher, were written with surprisingly advanced style and vocabulary. She was a mature, competent, and confident writer. Edward longed to know what her favorite books were. Her insipid friends never thought to ask, and she rarely volunteered information about herself.

He often watched her from a distance in the cafeteria or parking lot. He couldn't help it. There was something about her that was so different. She stood out from the rest of the students. Usually she kept to herself unless others initiated conversations with her, which happened frequently; Edward was clearly not the only one who saw an inexplicable charm in her.

He found that she was an absurdly clumsy walker. She could barely walk over a flat, stable surface without finding something to trip over. He was so used to the inescapable poise of his kind that her klutziness seemed completely ludicrous. It would have made him laugh, if it did not worry him somehow. She could so easily get injured. He remembered the feeling of her skin – like touching a bubble – and would watch her fall anxiously, waiting for her to break. Inevitably, too, her frequent falls were accompanied by a rush of blood to her face. The flush no longer brought him any amusement either. It depressed him.

Alice was the only one who knew that he watched her. She kept his secret from their other three siblings, who would have been incredulous. She warned him in her thoughts when Bella was going to look his way, so that he could look otherwise occupied. She certainly looked at him very frequently. This made him feel simultaneously happy and disheartened; he obviously held a certain amount of intrigue for her, too. But he could never know how she felt about him, what she thought of his bizarrely rude behavior.

And every day, the perfume of her skin, her breath, her hair…it hit him as hard as the very first day, reminding him of why he had to continue the charade.

He despised himself. He despised what he was. He despised everything.

He grew dejected and despondent at home. He had completely abandoned the piano, especially the song he had written about her. Alice and Esme were worried about him, he knew, and tried to draw him out of his funk in vain. As often as he could, he told them he was going for runs through the woods to avoid their guilt-inducing concern. Mostly he just went to his favorite place, a private, snug little meadow in the middle of the woods, and lay there, wondering why he felt so achingly alone.

Alice no longer saw Bella becoming a vampire, so at least he had succeeded in that respect. She told him comfortingly that in two years Bella would graduate and be gone from Forks, and he would no longer be tormented by her scent. But somehow that made him more depressed than anything else did. As glad as he was to save her soul…to have her completely leave his life in so little time, without him ever finding out anything more about her, without her ever thinking he was anything other than ridiculously mean, was unbearable. But it was the truth.

Never had his future seemed bleaker.

Edward slowly learned to tune out Bella's conversations in order to make his separation from her more tolerable. He forced himself to stop eavesdropping on Mike Newton and Jessica Stanley's minds in order to quell the irrational surges of irritation he felt at the way they responded to Bella. They had no idea how special she was – how different she was from them. So he shrouded all human thoughts in a mantle of contemptuous oblivion and met with dreary resignation the purgatory sentence that was the remainder of his days at Forks High School.

One day Edward was aware, as Mike Newton and Bella walked into the Biology classroom together and headed for her seat, that they were unusually quiet. There was unmistakable tension in the air. Most days the two of them chatted lightly while Edward, aching on several different levels, ignored them. But today something was different. Edward forced himself not to listen to Newton's mind as he sat himself on top of Bella's desk, sure that whatever he read there would cause him anger or pain. He thought furiously about the discovery of antimatter, fighting to subdue the painful scorching in his throat and the electric current in his body that Bella never failed to produce on a daily basis. He was thirsty today, and held his breath with grinding teeth as he forced himself not to think about her seductive scent.

"So…Jessica asked me to the spring dance," Newton was telling Bella.

Trivial human interests. Edward wouldn't listen. Scientific research had missed a flaw in the containment of antimatter…

"That's great," Bella said enthusiastically. "You'll have a lot of fun with Jessica."

And while their use of magnets was beneficial, they could have used electricity to a much more useful effect…

"Well…I told her I had to think about it."

But unless the electricity was handled in the right way, the results could be catastrophic…

"Why would you do that?"

Maybe they could go to Switzerland next winter, and Edward could get a job as a physicist…

Newton sounded miserably embarrassed. "I was wondering if…well, if you might be planning to ask me."

Screw antimatter.

Nothing could have prepared Edward for the flare of resentment, almost fury, that flooded through him. It was like fire inside his body. Hatred for Newton coursed through him. He suddenly wanted to strangle the boy –to crumple him into a little ball and throw him out the window. What was wrong with him? Why did he suddenly feel like tearing this poor kid's eyes out? For asking a girl to a dance?

He couldn't stop himself from looking at Bella, shocked at the panic he felt as he waited for her answer. Could she have feelings for Mike Newton? Was it possible that she saw some value in the vile creature?

Her beautiful eyes were slightly guilty. Dear God. Was she guilty because she was about to betray Jessica? Or because there was someone else? His inability to read her thoughts was no longer just an aggravating obstacle. It was absolute torture. It was worse than the scent of her blood.

And the thought of Mike Newton dancing with her, holding her close…Edward ground his teeth together, suppressing a growl. His hands were balled into fists, ready to punch a hole through a wall. Or better yet, punch a hole through the Newton kid's brain.

What the hell was going on with him?

"Mike, I think you should tell her yes," she said finally.

Edward could have danced around the room singing.

"Did you already ask someone?" Newton asked sullenly, his eyes and thoughts flickering towards Edward.

But Edward's thoughts were elsewhere.

Had she already asked someone? The terror returned. Was there someone Bella Swan liked, or even…or even loved? It was enough to render him breathless. He felt weaker than he had ever felt before. Why had he ever stopped eavesdropping on her conversations? When he could know, right now, if Bella had a date to the dance!

"No. I'm not going to the dance at all."

Relief, joyous relief once more. This was insane. Edward had never undergone such dramatic mood swings before. He felt almost dizzy from the rapid changes.

"Why not?" Newton demanded.

"I'm going to Seattle that Saturday," she replied.

Was that true? Was she just making up an excuse?

"Can't you go some other weekend?"

"Sorry, no. So you shouldn't make Jess wait any longer – it's rude." And she really did sound sorry, Edward realized with another surge of panic.

Was she just turning Newton down for Jessica's sake? Did she like him? The aggravation at not being able to read her mind returned.

"Yeah, you're right," Newton mumbled, walking dejectedly away.

Bella closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples in a gesture of misery. Edward stared at her penetratingly, straining to hear her mind, desperate for some kind of clue as to what she was thinking.

Mr. Banner began to talk. Bella sighed and opened her eyes…and looked right at Edward. Their glances met.

He should have looked away. But he couldn't make himself. In a matter of minutes Mike Newton had shattered his careful façade. All he could do was gaze, probingly, into the depths of her soulful, sincere brown eyes and search. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for anymore. He was just looking for anything. For everything. And she stared right back at him, making him forget how to breathe.

She was so artlessly, utterly beautiful.

"Mr. Cullen?" Mr. Banner said pointedly, hoping to finally call his star student out on not paying attention.

"The Krebs Cycle," Edward answered correctly, suppressing a sigh as he tore his eyes away from Bella. He couldn't believe the rush of emotion pulsing through him. This was ridiculous.

Edward spent the rest of the hour trying to figure out what had just happened to him. Up until this point, he had thought that he understood his emotions perfectly. He was interested in Bella because her mind challenged his powers and her responses surprised him. He had saved her because she was so soft and vulnerable, and he, being strong and capable, naturally felt protective of her. He had been averse to Alice's vision because he couldn't stand the thought of someone so supremely good throwing away her soul to become a monster. And he had been miserable for six weeks because he had put his family in danger, and had to give up his new project as a result of it. All of these responses could be attributed to his gentlemanly determination to do the right thing despite his despicable lot in life.

But this…this was unexplainable by any of these rationalizations. He had never felt such resentful hatred toward a human being before. And Mike Newton? Who was he to inspire such powerful emotions?

Suddenly, the answer dawned on Edward, so obvious that he was embarrassed for not having recognized it earlier. He was jealous. Irrationally, overpoweringly jealous. The awareness shocked him. He had never been jealous of anyone before.

Bella didn't look at him again for the rest of the hour, although Edward shot her many covert glances. He was fighting with himself the whole time, struggling between what he knew he should do and what he wanted to do. The bell rang. She turned her back to him, beginning to gather her things.

His rational, ethical half lost. "Bella?" he heard himself say before he could stop himself.

She froze, then turned to him slowly, unwillingly. He composed his face quickly as she turned.

Her facial expression was wary when she looked at him. "What? Are you speaking to me again?"

Edward fought back a smile at the obviously irritated petulance in her voice. Why did she have to charm him so easily?

"No, not really," he admitted, suppressing a sigh.

She closed her eyes and breathed in slowly through her nose, gritting he teeth. He waited.

"Then what do you want, Edward?" she asked pointedly, without opening her eyes.

She must really hate him.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out honestly. "I'm being very rude, I know. But it's better this way, really," he added, wishing he could explain more clearly.

She opened her eyes. "I don't know what you mean," she said guardedly.

"It's better if we're not friends. Trust me."

Her eyes narrowed. "It's too bad you didn't figure that out earlier," she hissed, suddenly sounding like Rosalie. "You could have saved yourself all this regret."

"Regret?" The word, and her poisonous tone, caught him off guard. "Regret for what?"

"For not just letting that stupid van squish me."

Edward stared at her in shock. After everything he had sacrificed to keep her alive and well and human…this was what she thought of him?

"You think I regret saving your life?" he demanded in disbelief. She couldn't be serious.

"I know you do," she snapped.

"You don't know anything," he replied angrily. His months of agony on her behalf flashed before him.

Bella turned away, looking even angrier than he felt. She gathered her books, straightened, and marched away. He stood silently and followed her, wanting to say more but having nothing good to say. How could he possibly rectify this? It was probably best that she thought him so despicable; she would stay away from him and everything would be as he planned. His face was stony at the thought of it.

As Bella reached the door, she tripped over the doorjamb and her stack of books tumbled to the floor. Edward bent and stacked them into a pile for her before she stooped to pick them up.

"Thank you," she said icily.

His eyes narrowed.

"You're welcome," he retorted, matching her coldness.

She straightened up and swept away, leaving him to stare after her slender form as it stalked around the corner, feeling worse than he had ever felt before.

Edward felt too murderous to concentrate much on his Spanish class, but his abilities ensured that he never missed an answer anyway, no matter how distractedly he gave it. He knew he had done the right thing, in leaving Bella alone. He couldn't let Alice's vision come true…it was the very worst thing that could happen to someone like Bella. He grimaced at the thought of those pure eyes turning wildly, bloodthirstily red. He had saved her from hell on earth.

So how could he deserve this in return? Her thinking him insane was one thing, but for her to truly believe that he wished she was dead when his only concern over the past six weeks was to keep her alive was excruciating. Edward clenched his fists together, wanting to tear his hair out in agony.

Then something else distracted him, sending a familiar wave of jealousy – he was wise enough now to recognize it for what it was – through him. Eric Lee was sitting a few rows in front of him, planning busily…planning to ask Bella to the spring dance.

A growl started to form in his chest, and he quickly quieted himself. Edward knew, from weeks of watching Bella, that she didn't have the same sort of friendship with Lee that she had with that damned Newton kid. But he couldn't be sure. What if she said yes to this greasy, pimply, sycophantic boy? What if he picked her up for the dance, drove her there, held her waist and swayed with her to music…

This time Edward couldn't suppress his growl. He swiftly disguised it with a cough as several students looked around at him in alarm. This was so unreasonable. He couldn't allow Bella Swan, who would never be a part of his life (he winced), to have this level of influence over him.

But he couldn't stop himself from stationing himself near her truck and watching the interaction, couldn't stop himself from feeling bizarrely panicked as Lee leaned with overdone casualness against the cab and waited for her to arrive. She was walking quickly from the Gym, almost running, but came to a halt suddenly when she saw Lee at her door. Edward watched anxiously. She started walking again.

"Hey Eric," she called in a friendly tone. Worry seeped through him. What if they were closer than he had imagined? What if Bella was too deep to care about Lee's acne, what if she saw something there?

"Hi, Bella," he said. She didn't seem to notice how uncomfortable he clearly was.

"What's up?" She unlocked her door.

"Uh, I was just wondering…if you would go to the spring dance with me?" His voice broke on the last word. Edward grinded his teeth together and exhaled sharply. The terror was stabbing keenly at his chest.

"I thought it was girl's choice." Bella sounded startled.

"Well, yeah," he mumbled embarrassedly.

She smiled warmly and Edward felt his body go rigid. "Thank you for asking me, but I'm going to be in Seattle that day." He relaxed, grinning now with relief.

"Oh," he said. "Well, maybe next time."

"Sure," she agreed. Eric walked off and Edward saw, with unreasonable happiness, that her expression was both stunned and annoyed as she turned back to her truck. He began to stroll to his car. Then a new thought intruded into his mind, one that made him chuckle in amazement.

Tyler Crowley, thinking that Bella had turned the others down for him, was going to ask her to the dance.

Edward pressed his lips together against the laughter as he walked past Bella's truck, looking straight forward. He had to see this. Her reaction to this third invitation, he predicted with anticipation, would be much too entertaining to miss.

His family hadn't arrived at his Volvo yet, but he slid out smoothly in front of her Chevy to wait for them in the lane. She had no escape now.

It only took Tyler a minute. He left the door of his car open, the engine still running, and skipped confidently over to the passenger side window of her truck, knocking loudly. Bella leaned over and cranked the window down.

"I'm sorry, Tyler, I'm stuck behind Cullen," she said, annoyed. Edward didn't miss the trace of anger in the way she pronounced his last name.

"Oh, I know – I just wanted to ask you something while we're trapped here," Tyler grinned.

Bella's jaw dropped. Edward erupted.

"Will you ask me to the spring dance?"

She picked her jaw up and jut it out irritably. "I'm not going to be in town, Tyler."

"Yeah, Mike said that," Tyler said.

"Then why – "

"I was hoping you were just letting him down easy," Tyler shrugged. Bella's incredulous expression was amazing. Edward bent over, laughing helplessly.

"Sorry, Tyler," she said, working to hide her annoyance. "I really am going out of town."

"That's cool. We still have prom." Tyler grinned and strolled back to his car.

Bella spun her head forward, her face shocked. Edward, watching her in his rearview mirror, was shaking with laughter. His siblings were sliding into the car confusedly, but he couldn't compose himself. Bella's eyes met his and narrowed. She revved her engine, clenching her jaw angrily.

"Edward? Go?" Rosalie said from the backseat. He put the car in drive and sped forward, still chuckling.

"What's so funny, man?" Emmett asked.

"Bella Swan," Edward replied, grinning. All eyes were immediately on him. He felt his smile fade.

"What about her?" Rosalie asked immediately.

He knew he would tease her hatred of Bella by saying it, but he couldn't help himself. "She's just too popular for her own good. Three unwelcome boys asked her to the spring dance today."

He was right. Rosalie's eyes narrowed immediately and she glared out the window, furious envy and disbelief raging in her mind. The other three were more wary.

"I thought you were going to stay out of her life," Jasper said skeptically.

"I know that," Edward snapped, all trace of humor now gone.

Alice was carefully controlling her thoughts, he realized – she was working out a complex mathematics equation. Edward didn't want to know what she was keeping from him, but the smug smile on her face told him all he needed to know. He pulled into their driveway.

"34.18 pi," he told her flatly as he strode quickly away from them to the house, tuning their thoughts out.

That afternoon, after doing his homework and listening to Carlisle practice his medical lecture, Edward sat down at the piano. He didn't know what made him do it; he hadn't touched the ancient ivory keys in six weeks. But without thinking, he found himself playing the lullaby that Bella had inspired. Esme, Jasper, Alice, and Carlisle sat and listened, happy to hear him playing again. The familiar timbre of the sound soothed him, somehow. The music flowed from his fingers, sweet and soft and beautiful, like her. He smiled as he played.

But his smile soon faded. He ended the piece in the minor key, on a melancholy note. It was finished – the perfect ending. Edward couldn't cry, but he felt as though he wanted to all of a sudden. He stood abruptly and walked out before Esme could see the look on his face. Then he ran to his meadow.

The sun was setting behind a haze of empurpled clouds, lining them in liquid gold. It was twilight, the end of the day…the safest time for them. He lay on the soft, wet grass and breathed the fresh scent of daffodils and rain, watching the sky grow dark.

Bella wasn't frozen in time, like he was. She would change and mature and grow old. If he continued to ignore her, as he should, someday she would say yes to Mike, or someone like him. The anger coursed through him, gripping his muscles. He couldn't bear the idea of her falling in love with someone too dimwitted to appreciate her. But then the rage faded to sadness. She would get married. She would have children, and grandchildren, and then one day…Edward rolled over and curled up into a ball, letting the misery flood through him. In the meantime, he would stay seventeen. Forever.

He wasn't sure how long he lay on the ground like that, feeling a hurt more painful than any physical pain could be. It was a sadness, a regret, deeper than anger or thirst. There was no recourse from pain like this. He was twitching, his face was twisting in agony. It was as if there was a hole in his insides, piercing him with heartache, making it impossible for him to breathe normally.

Only one thing could fill it. And in spite of everything he had gone through, he was too weak to go on without it. He knew it was selfish. He knew it was wrong. He tried to stop himself. But it was too hard. In spite of everything, he had to see her.

He sat up and looked at his watch, feeling better as soon as he had made up his mind. It was a quarter past midnight. She would be sleeping. It didn't matter – he couldn't wait until she woke up. Just watching her sleep would give him some small alleviation from this awful aching.

But was he strong enough to be alone with her? He couldn't take any chances. He would have to hunt first.

8. Lightning Strikes

Edward didn't usually hunt alone, but he knew his family wouldn't be looking for him in the middle of the night. It was the time each couple in the family disappeared to their own antics, and Edward wasn't given a second thought. It wasn't much fun – sleeping deer didn't pose too much of a challenge – but Edward's mind was too distracted by the thought of seeing Bella to care much. The anticipation elated him. As soon as he was full he raced back to Forks, to Chief Swan's residence, and followed her delicious scent to her bedroom window.

He paused outside and peeked in to make sure she was asleep. He saw her lying under her covers, her back to him, her long brown locks fanned over her pillow. He waited until she had been still for a full 60 seconds (the time seemed to pass unbearably slowly) before he slid the window open and slipped silently inside.

Immediately upon seeing her, he felt a strange, novel sense of relief course through him. He hadn't noticed the physical tension in every muscle of his stone body until the moment it disappeared. His face relaxed, his insides seemed to heal – even as he ordered himself not to inhale. Her presence, even when unconscious, calmed and excited him simultaneously. He was happy – happy just to be near her.

He stood like that for a long moment, at the foot of her bed. He watched her breathe in and out slowly, listened to her heart pound evenly. The sound incited his killer instincts, but he forced his inner predator to shut up. Instead, he busied himself with looking at her face. In the stillness of the night, her creamy complexion and delicate features looked even more beautiful than he remembered. He stared hungrily for a long time without thinking and without breathing. He counted the lashes that rested gently upon her soft cheek, traced with his eyes the shape of her smooth, round lips, watched her body move up and down slightly with every soft breath, and imagined what dreams were coloring her night.

If only he could be human with her! At that moment he knew that he would trade anything, be anything, for that one wish. He had never hated what he was as much as he did in the long hours of that quiet night. In sleep, she looked even more vulnerable than she did when awake, and Edward could not but feel disgusted with the part of him – the very strong part, though loathed part – that wished to kill her. What kind of hideous monster was he? She was the purest, sweetest, most enchanting woman he had ever beheld, and he wanted to drink her blood. Edward imagined for a second the idea of killing her right now, of seeing her lying white and lifeless on the floor of the bedroom, and actually cringed from the pain of it. The image knocked the little air he had in his lungs out of him with a small, tortured huff, but did not allow himself to breathe anymore in – what if he made the image come true? He was a sociopath to even picture her dead.

He had to stay far away from her, to make sure that he never did the thing that would cause him more pain than it would cause anyone else. But how could he do that? Knowing how wanted she was by other men? He clenched his fists shut at the thought of it. Someday she would say yes to Mike, or someone like him. Someday some man would be allowed to hold her, to kiss her, to have her heart. Edward imagined the years stretching on in front of him, knowing that Bella belonged to someone else, and felt a flash of anguish at the thought of it.

"Edward."

He froze as Bella spoke his name. Fear and indecision paralyzed him. She had woken up and seen him! Should he flee? Would she think she was dreaming? What the hell was he thinking, coming to her bedroom in the middle of the night? He was going to have to leave Forks – leave her! He cringed again, tormented at the idea. Esme never entered his thoughts – it was her, only her he wanted. And now he had ruined it. He would never forgive himself for this, never!

Bella moved – Edward's body froze, still undecided – but she was just rolling over. "Edward," she sighed again. She buried herself under her covers and took another breath.

It was as though lightning struck his body from head to toe. In all his pretty imaginings for the dreams she was having, he had never dared to hope that she might be dreaming of him. But here she was, saying his name in her sleep! In the shock of it, Edward gasped a short breath, and her scent scorched the back of his throat at the same moment that emotion scorched the hole where his heart ought to be. He had never felt so staggered by feeling in his life. It was almost too much to feel – almost more than his being could bear. If he had a heart, it would be hammering out of his chest right now. Instead, he felt his hollow insides fill with something that he couldn't immediately identify – some emotion that was making its way from the place where his heart would go to the tips of his fingers and toes, swimming around the brain and making him feel delirious. He felt warm and flooded with the strange, almost frightening, but also wonderful sensation.

Bella Swan was dreaming about him. Bella Swan was dreaming about him! After weeks of not speaking to each other, he was in her dreams! He could have danced a jig!

The sensation was now tingling in his muscles, moving the edges of his lips upward without his permission, making it impossible for him to hold still. He wanted to jump up and down like a human child. He wanted to grab up her body and clutch it to him. He allowed himself some mindless movements of his arms and legs, thankful that no one could see how ridiculous he looked right now.

He knew, right at that moment, that he couldn't ignore Bella Swan any longer. He would never be able to stay away from her now. His desire for her was palpable, even painful, and the idea of being separated from her now would rip his very being in half. He didn't care that he was a monster. He didn't care that part of him wanted to consume his blood. All that he cared about was that he wanted her, and she was dreaming of him, and everything in the world seemed too wonderful to bear.

He stood, transfixed, watching her, for the better part of the night – until the sun began to rise. She mumbled in her sleep more, phrases that only made Edward burn with curiosity. "Mom, be careful," she said once. "Mmm the sun," she murmured at another point. Edward didn't move a muscle as he stood at a safe distance and watched and listened greedily, taking in every bit of her except her scent – he didn't allow himself to breathe again. His throat was still scorching from the last time.

But when the black sky began to lighten up he tore his eyes reluctantly from her perfect face. She had been quiet and motionless for a few hours now. Over the course of the night she had said his name four times, and each time Edward felt happiness course through his body like warm liquid.

But now he had to get back to his family. He would see her soon at school – it was the only thing that could make him leave. He looked back for a final glance – the gray morning light made her alabaster skin glow attractively – and swept nimbly out the window and back home, taking a deep breath of fresh air as he ran.

Back home, he quickly changed clothes and flew back down the stairs, beating the rest of his family to their open living room. He couldn't help himself – he sat down on the piano and began to play Bella's lullaby. The excitement at getting to see her again – at getting to talk to her, and look into her brown eyes, knowing this time that she had actually dreamt of him – was still pulsing through him, giving him a flood of energy he had never known before. Rosalie came down the stairs first, looking at him suspiciously.

"You're in a good mood," she said.

"I get to see Bella today," he replied smoothly, fingers still running over the piano.

He saw the shock etched on her face and heard the jealousy in her thoughts, but nothing could bring him down today.

"What are you talking about?" she hissed. "You see her every day. And you swore to stay away from her."

"Changed my mind," he grinned back, still playing.

"Excuse me?"

At that moment, Alice danced down the stairs too, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Edward?" she asked. "Rose? What's going on?"

Rosalie rounded on Alice. "What do you see happening now? Are we all in danger? Now that this idiot has decided he's lusting after a human that he also can't stop himself from killing?"

Her words were like a physical blow to Edward. He stopped playing abruptly and glared.

"I'm not lusting after her," he said in disgust, knowing that it wasn't entirely true, but also knowing that the idea of him being able to feel lust was what made Rosalie angrier than anything else. "I've just decided not to stay away from her anymore. It has nothing to do with lust."

"Then what does it have to do with?"

"I don't know exactly." He looked down at the piano, reluctant to discuss this with her. Alice was still watching quietly, looking unnerved.

It didn't take long for the rest of the family to join them, and Rosalie's venomous expression soon brought the truth out from Edward.

"I'm going to talk to Bella in school today," he said simply. "I don't understand why this has to be such a big deal for everyone."

"Because the last time you interacted with her you put us all in danger! And the time before that, you put her in danger! How difficult is it for you to catch on that talking to her isn't a good idea!" Rosalie spat.

"Why are you going to start talking to her, son?" Carlisle asked, looking concerned.

"I just want to," he said through his teeth. He couldn't understand why he so hated talking to them about this. He talked to his family about everything, but his feelings about Bella seemed private, somehow – none of their business.

Jasper was surprised too. "But…why? Do you want to bite her again?"

Emmett snickered. "Can't resist the temptation, little bro?"

"That's not it," Edward insisted, his good mood deflating slowly. There would always be a risk.

Alice was now smiling happily. "I knew she'd be one of us someday."

Edward unleashed a dark glare on her. "That. Will. Never. Happen," he growled.

She just kept smiling, smugly. Everyone else was quiet.

"Well it's your choice how to live your life, Edward," Carlisle said finally. "But I ask that you be careful and think about our family, whatever you do."

"I will."

"Your eyes…Edward, when did you go hunting?" Esme said in surprise.

"Last night," Edward grinned. Her shocked thoughts were more of a reaction to his unconcealed happiness than to how he'd spent his night.

"Well, we'd better go before we're late for school," Jasper cut in through the tense silence. He was uncertain, but determined to mind his own business.

The five of them trudged off to Edward's car, leaving Carlisle and Esme muttering quietly to each other about this new development. Edward tuned them out, not wanting anything to ruin his good mood today.

They were quiet on the way to school. Rosalie's thoughts were unbearable, Alice's even more so, and Edward's two brothers were merely bewildered (and amused, in Emmett's case).

Never having actually dated before, Edward was unsure how to go about starting. What would he say to Bella? Would he tell her the truth about everything? She already knew about his strength and speed – but had she forgotten? Something told him no. But how much else could he really tell her? But how could he spend time with her, without her figuring it out? How could he spend time with her at all?

He shook his head clear of all these pesky thoughts. He had no idea how he would maneuver this, but he knew that he was going to talk to Bella today, and that was all he needed in the world.

She wasn't there yet when he pulled into the parking lot, so he decided to wait for her. He waved goodbye to his siblings, all of whom kept shooting worried and bemused glances back at him. Except Alice. She was smiling confidently, and Edward looked away in a fury.

There was her truck. The flood of emotion ran through his body again, and he was on a high. She pulled into the parking lot and parked as far away from his Volvo as she could possibly be. Was it on purpose? Who cared? He got to talk to her today, that was all that mattered.

He made his way towards her as she got out of her cab, fumbling her keys as she stepped out. He began to laugh at her clumsiness. He was so happy he didn't have to tune her out anymore. Suddenly, he thought of the perfect thing to say, both to get to see her hilariously annoyed expression again and to spend time with her. Excited, he zipped over, picked up the keys for her, and held them out as she straightened up, looking startled to see him.

"How do you do that?" she asked in amazed irritation.

"Do what?" he stifled a chuckle as he dropped the keys into her palm. He was amazed at how good he felt.

"Appear out of thin air!"

"Bella, it's not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant," he teased, although he knew that wasn't the case at all. She was one of the most observant humans he had ever met.

She glared, then looked at the ground quickly. He watched her face, curious.

"Why the traffic jam last night?" she said, her eyes still on the ground. "I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don't exist, not irritating me to death."

Edward stifled another laugh at the thought of his triumph over Tyler. After all, it was his name she had said in her sleep, not Tyler's. He could afford to laugh at it now, though he had been so anxious in the moment.

"That was for Tyler's sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance."

"You…" she gasped, her fury rendering her speechless. Edward memorized the way her face looked when it was angry, the expression completely foreign to her naturally sweet face.

"And I'm not pretending you don't exist," he informed her, his feelings soaring as he uttered the sentence.

"So you are trying to irritate me to death? Since Tyler's van didn't do the job?"

Abruptly, she brought him down from his high. Was she completely mad? Was he the only one who could see how much he was drawn to her? "Bella, you are utterly absurd," he said angrily. He wanted to say more, but he couldn't think of anything – and before he could gather his thoughts, she was walking away, still furious.

"Wait," he called, following her. "I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm not saying it isn't true – but it was rude to say it, anyway."

"Why won't you leave me alone?"

"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me," he chuckled in anticipation.

"Do you have a multiple personality disorder?" she asked severely, and he stifled another laugh.

"You're doing it again."

She sighed. "Fine, then. What do you want to ask?"

He grinned deviously. "I was wondering if, a week from Saturday – you know the day of the spring dance - "

"Are you trying to be funny?" She whirled around, looking at him with the angry toddler expression that he had been hoping for. He choked back his laughter.

"Will you please allow me to finish?"

She bit her lip and didn't respond.

"I heard you were going to Seattle that day," he continued. "And I was wondering if you wanted a ride."

She looked surprised. "What?"

"Do you want a ride to Seattle?" he repeated, suddenly afraid that she would turn him down too.

"With who?"

"Myself, obviously," he said slowly, worrying.

"Why?" she asked, stunned.

"Well…I was planning to go to Seattle in the next few weeks," he said, his mood picking back up when he understood that she was surprised, not disgusted. "And," he added, his humor returning, "to be honest, I'm not sure your truck can make it."

"My truck works just fine, thank you very much for your concern," she said, sounding more surprised than miffed. She began to walk again.

"But can your truck make it there on one tank of gas?" he persisted, following her.

"I don't see how that is any of your business."

"The wasting of finite resources is everyone's business."

"Honestly, Edward." He felt a thrill run through him as he heard his name on her lips. "I can't keep up with you. I thought you didn't want to be my friend."

"I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be," he corrected.

"Oh, thanks, now that's all cleared up." Her tone dripped in sarcasm that was still too sweet to be offensive as she turned to face him.

"It would be more…prudent for you not to be my friend," he admitted, feeling tortured as he realized the danger he was putting her in. But how could he stay away? "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella," he said honestly, locking his eyes on hers. She didn't look away this time.

"Will you go with me to Seattle?" he felt like he could get down on his knees and beg her at this point. Looking into her eyes filled his insides like a balloon inflating.

She nodded, not breaking her gaze. He could look into those brown eyes forever. He smiled, content. But then he froze as a gust of wind blew her hair toward him. His throat burned, and he fought to suppress the killer instinct.

"You really should stay away from me," he said seriously as all the reasons for the past few weeks rushed back to him. She should at least know that it was her choice. "I'll see you in class," he choked out as the scent became too much for him. And he walked away from her intoxicating smell as quickly as he could.

9. Spinning

Edward was distracted for the rest of the morning, thinking about the expression in Bella's eyes as she had looked into them for that long minute. It was as if she felt for him some small inkling of what he felt for her. The idea of it was enough to take his breath away. He didn't seem to have normal emotions anymore – they all came in extreme jolts of pain or pleasure – and right now he was experiencing both. Pain, because what if he couldn't control himself in Seattle on Saturday? Pleasure, because how wonderful would it be if he could? The mixed emotions swirled in his head from class to class. He could have skipped to lunch in his anticipation to see her again, to see that look in her eyes. Was this what it was like, for others in relationships? Were he and Bella just special? They were certainly one of a kind, he thought dryly.

His siblings were sitting at their usual lunch table, but today Edward purchased his food, flashed a smile at them, and sat across the cafeteria. They stared in astonishment, but he kept his head towards the entrance, parsing through the crowds looking for her. He only had eyes for Bella.

She walked in with Jessica Stanley. He saw her glance towards his siblings, but she didn't see him though he stared forcefully at her, willing her to look his way. She listened silently to Jessica's endless chatter as she made her way down the lunch line.

Finally the power of his gaze captured the wrong person's attention. Jessica looked at him and then whispered to Bella, "Edward Cullen is staring at you again. I wonder why he's sitting alone today."

Bella turned quickly to see for herself, looking every bit as astonished as his siblings had. He smiled and gestured with his finger for her to join him. When she continued to stare blankly, he winked in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

"Does he mean you?" Jessica asked in amazement.

"Maybe he needs help with his Biology homework," she faltered. "Um, I'd better go see what he wants."

Edward felt his smile grow as she approached his table disbelievingly and stood across from him.

"Why don't you sit with me today?" he invited.

She sat.

"This is different," she said after a beat.

"Well," he hesitated, unsure of what he was going to say. "I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly."

She stared. "You know I don't have any idea what you mean." It wasn't a question.

"I know." He was smiling again. What was it about her?

Something behind her distracted him and he glanced up to see Mike Newton and Jessica Stanley staring him down, unfriendly thoughts running through their minds. "I think your friends are angry with me for stealing you."

"They'll survive," she replied, still hesitant.

"I may not give you back though," he grinned, then laughed at her expression. "You look worried."

"No," her voice faltered, but she did look nervous. What did she suspect? "Surprised, actually. What brought all this on?"

"I told you. I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I'm giving up."

"Giving up?"

"Yes. I'm giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." But as he said it, the realization of where the chips might fall hit him again.

"You lost me again."

He couldn't help but smile at her bewilderment, and stifled a sigh. "I always say too much when I'm talking to you – that's one of the problems."

"Don't worry, I don't understand any of it," she rolled her eyes.

"I'm counting on that."

"So, in plain English, are we friends now?"

"Friends…" he thought about that. He knew he felt much, much more than friendship for her. But did she feel the same?

"Or not."

He smiled. "Well, we can try, I suppose. But I'm warning you now that I'm not a good friend for you." Part of him hoped that she would listen to him, that she would save herself. But the rest of him felt agonized at the thought of her walking away.

"You say that a lot," she said cautiously.

"Yes, because you're not listening to me," he continued, hurting himself as he spoke. Damn his monster qualities to hell. "I'm still waiting for you to believe it. If you're smart, you'll avoid me."

"I think you've made your opinion on the subject of my intellect clear, too," she said with narrowed eyes. He just smiled sadly at her.

"So…as long as I'm being….not smart…we'll try to be friends?" she asked.

"That sounds about right," he sighed. It was the best he could give her.

She looked down at her hands around her lemonade bottle, long enough for him to start feeling that familiar frustration at not knowing her thoughts. "What are you thinking?" he demanded.

She looked up at him. "I'm trying to figure out what you are."

He worked to keep the smile on his face. How much did she know? She was remarkably intuitive. "Are you having any luck with that?" he said, trying to keep his tone casual.

"Not too much," she replied reluctantly.

He chuckled, relieved. "What are your theories?" He watched, mesmerized, as an attractive flush colored her creamy skin. She didn't answer.

"Won't you tell me?" he cajoled. This tone of voice usually worked on humans, but she stood firm.

"Too embarrassing."

"That's really frustrating, you know," he said in irritation.

Her eyes narrowed, angry now. "No, I can't imagine why that would be frustrating at all — just because someone refuses to tell you what they're thinking, even if all the while they're making cryptic little remarks specifically designed to keep you up at night wondering what they could possibly mean… now, why would that be frustrating? Or better," she continued with a vehement hand gesture, "say that person also did a wide range of bizarre things — from saving your life under impossible circumstances one day to treating you like a pariah the next, and he never explained any of that, either, even after he promised. That, also, would be very non-frustrating."

He stared at her for a moment. She wasn't going to make this easy on him. On the other hand, he hadn't made this very easy on her, either.

"You've got a bit of a temper, don't you?" he asked. No one ever called him out like this except Rosalie.

"I don't like double standards," she said.

He longed to explain. But how could he? And would she ever look at him with that look in her eyes again if she knew?

His concentration broke as he heard Mike Newton's appraisal of the tension between Bella and himself. The imbecile was considering coming over to defend her – as if she needed his help.

"Your boyfriend seems to think I'm being unpleasant to you — he's debating whether or not to come break up our fight." Edward informed Bella with an angry snicker. He didn't like the idea of anyone else rescuing her.

"I don't know who you're talking about," she replied coolly. "But I'm sure you're wrong anyway."

"I'm not. I told you, most people are easy to read."

"Except me, of course."

"Yes. Except for you. I wonder why that is…" he trailed off, lost in thought.

She took a sip of lemonade and he noticed for the first time that she had no food in front of her. "Aren't you hungry?" he asked.

"No. You?"

"No, I'm not hungry," he smiled to himself. How lucky she was that he wasn't.

"Can you do me a favor?" she said, suddenly serious.

"That depends on what you want," he replied warily.

"It's not much," she assured, staring at her lemonade bottle. "I just wondered… if you could warn me beforehand the next time you decide to ignore me for my own good. Just so I'm prepared." Her pinkie finger traced the bottle opening.

Edward stifled his laugh. "That sounds fair."

She looked up. "Thanks."

He seized the opportunity. "Then can I have one favor in return?"

"One."

"Tell me one theory."

She glared. "Not that one."

"You didn't qualify, you just promised one answer," he reminded her.

She raised an eyebrow. "And you've broken promises yourself."

"Just one theory – I won't laugh," he begged. He wasn't sure whether he was more eager for her to be wrong, or nervous that she would be right. Or was he secretly eager for her to be right?

"Yes you will."

Edward knew by this point how to get his way from humans. He looked down, then turned his gaze slowly up to meet hers through his lashes. "Please?" he breathed.

She blinked. "Er, what?"

"Please tell me just one little theory." He could tell that it was working.

"Um, well, bitten by a radioactive spider?"

He sat back up. "That's not very creative," he smirked.

"I'm sorry, that's all I've got."

"You're not even close."

"No spiders?"

"Nope."

"And no radioactivity?"

"None."

"Dang."

"Kryptonite doesn't bother me either," he added with a laugh.

She raised her perfect eyebrows. "You're not supposed to laugh, remember?" Edward composed his face.

"I'll figure it out eventually," she said warningly.

That wiped the smile off his face.

Would she figure it out? How could she not, being in close proximity to him?

Part of him was relieved by the idea of her finally knowing and him being able to give up the charade. Pretending to be human was exhausting most of the time. But he also knew that no human would want to spend time with her own personal predator. Would she run screaming from him in the opposite direction? The idea sent a flash of pain through him.

"I wish you wouldn't try," he told her.

"Because?"

He thought about how to say what he wanted to say without actually saying it.

"What if…" he started thoughtfully. "I'm not a superhero? What if I'm the bad guy?" He smiled so as not to scare her, though he knew too well that he was the bad guy.

Her eyes widened. "Oh. I see."

Instantly he was worried he had said too much. "Do you?"

"You're dangerous?"

Yes, Bella, I am dangerous. So dangerous that I can think of 100 different, easy ways to kill you right now. My venom would paralyze you. My hands would crush you. I would gladly drink all of your blood right now and it would be the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted.

But after I did that I would probably want to kill myself.

"But not bad," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, I don't believe that you're bad."

She knew he wasn't human, but she wouldn't say that if she knew what he actually was.

"You're wrong," he said quietly, spinning the lid of her bottle on the table.

What the hell was he doing? Spilling his family's secret and endangering the girl he – felt something for – all at once?

And why couldn't he make himself stop?

Finally Bella looked around and jumped to her feet. "We're going to be late."

"I'm not going to class today," he replied, still focusing on the bottle top. They were blood-typing in Biology.

"Why not?"

"It's healthy to ditch class now and then." And also if I smelled your blood I'd probably kill you right then and there.

"Well I'm going," she said, uncertainly. Would she put two and two together once she saw what the class activity was? Surely not. Humans were too stubborn to believe in fairy-tale monsters.

"I'll see you later then," she added, rushing away as the first bell rang. Her hair whipped the air behind her, leaving behind her a trail of her delicious floral scent that scorched his throat. Edward didn't watch her walk away. He remained seated, watching the bottle top spin round and round with his thoughts.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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