Edward POV
Isabella Swan, Bella, she preferred, entered the classroom with Angela, who went to go sit next to her partner. Bella's long brown hair, damp from the rain, ran down her shoulders.
Bella looked around for the teacher, I assumed. Why can't I read her mind? What is there about her that could possible block me? She wasn't even an extraordinary human. She looked about five feet, four inches tall and had pale skin for a human. She grimaced, trying to find Mr. Banner. Her eyes swept the classroom. As they rested on me and saw me returning her stare, she blushed. Spotting Mr. Banner, she walked down the aisle. He signed her slip, gave her a textbook, and sent her to sit in the only empty seat in the classroom; the one next to me.
As she sat down, her scent wafted to me. It was more tempting than most, like lavender, or freesia. Thirst burned in my throat and venom rushed to my mouth. As lovely as the scent was, my thirst was not difficult to control. When you're a vampire as practiced in abstinance as I am, it shouldn't be.
"I'm Edward Cullen," I introduced. "You must be Bella."
Her heartbeat sped up as she looked up, meeting my dark topaz eyes with her chocolate brown ones. Her cheeks flushed red with blood and her breathing stopped. After a few seconds she looked down at the table and took a ragged breath. She blushed deeper.
"How... how do you know... know my name?" she asked, barely more than a whisper, though I had no trouble hearing it still looking at the table.
"Oh, I think everyone here knows your name," I smirked. I didn't need to tell her, though, that my little snag of this gossip came from the mind rather than the mouth.
She looked up again, and then back down, her heart pumping at a jagged rhythm.
"No, I meant... You called me Bella. I think Ch- my dad must have been calling me Isabella, because that's what everybody seems to know me as."
I felt like hitting myself in the forehead, but I let it slide with a shrug and hoped she would form an explanation for herself. Thankfully, she let it go.
Class didn't start for another few minutes. She looked around, obviously uncomfortable. What was she thinking? I'd never encountered this before, in all my long years. What could be so different about her?
She caught me staring at her with what I was sure was a confused and frustrated expression.
She blushed, red blood flowing under the pale skin of her heart shaped face yet again. Her chocolate brown eyes questioned me again, but she would never believe the true answer, so I just smiled.
"Is this class very hard?" she asked in her quiet, shy voice, obviously trying to make conversation and distract from my intense gaze.
I laughed internally; no class was very hard when you've taken it twelve times before.
"Not very," I replied, permitting myself a small smirk.
A frown touched her full lips. Why would she be frowning? Had I not just told her that this class was easy? Was she so masochistic that she wanted it to be hard? I was more frustrated than ever that I couldn't read her mind. She sighed and fanned her hair over her shoulder.
The bell rang and class began.
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