Shadow of the Day

The tears began to stroll down my face, pour over my rosy checks before I even pulled out of the parking lot. I starred back at the school, which not even after eight hours turned instantly into my personal Hell. A personal Hell due to one single person, due to him.

But, how could one miserly boy make me cry; make me want to run back to Phoenix and never return? He was nothing important, just one human being among the millions of us. But, the eyes… his eyes were filled of anger that consumed him that was unknown to man. How could someone hate me so much with intensity, with so much, I say, desire? It was true that I had a hard time mixing with people, but I did not hate anyone and to my knowledge, no one hated me.

At the same time, my mind was dancing between different options. I wanted to run back and make him explain to me and go home, pack my bags, and never return. I continued driving down the short drive to the house. Charlie was not home, and I was happy to have a moment of peace to be alone with my thoughts.

I grabbed my bag and threw the door open. I could hardly see the path as I ran to the door. Finding the key under the eave, I swung the door open, throwing my bag onto the ground. I knew I would come back later and put it away, but right now I did not care. I wanted my room. Somehow, I made it up the steps without tripping, which especially now was a miraculous feat. Seeing my bed, finding solace in the waves of the bed, I dove into my new bed, and buried my tear-ridden face within the confines of the pillow.

I did not know how long I remained there, letting the tears run. I did not know how many times I looked into those eyes that made me shiver. As more and more tears ran, I felt how stupid and crazy I was acting. A boy was making me lose myself, lose who I was. I made a promise to myself that I would remain strong. Realizing that, realizing that I was losing everything to a silly boy made the tears run faster and faster.

Eventually, without notice, I heard the rumble of the cruiser into the drive, and I knew that Charlie was home. Wondering how disgraceful I looked, I climbed among the disarray of the coverings to the bathroom on the second floor. My eyes were bloodshot, and my cheeks were red from the endless stream of tears. Charlie, for sure, would pick up on the past events. Hopefully, he would just push them aside, counting for the sudden change of location and schooling. Hearing the turn of the knob, I pushed the door open to hear Charlie call up the stairs.

"Bella, are you home?" I realized that he must have seen my backpack must be somewhat disillusioned of what have occurred.

"Yes, Dad. Sorry, I will be down to put my stuff away. I fell asleep." That is a good excuse, I thought to myself, as I jogged down the stairs trying to hid my face from Charlie. Even though my face was beet red, he might conclude that was due to the sleeping.

"Bells, how was your first day?" I knew he was just trying to be polite. Both Charlie and I were not what anyone would call verbose.

"Fine Bella, I met some very interesting people." That was absolutely a word for it… interesting.

"That is great, Bella." Charlie must have inferred that interesting people were nice for some reason. "What would you like to do for dinner? Are you in the mood for pizza?"

"Sure, that would be great."

"What kind would you like, Bells?"

"Anything would be great. If you do not mind though, I will go upstairs to work on some homework till it comes." I asked hoping to return to the wonderful confines of my room.

"Sure, I'll call you later." I pivoted away from him, and turned to the steps. I dashed them up as gracefully as I could. I opened the door to find the mess I had left behind in my frenzy. The covers were piled upon the bed looking as the fallen Berlin Wall, and the clothes from my sudden change were thrown upon the floor. I reached down, and replaced all the scattered items.

After cleaning my room, I returned to the computer screen to find five urgent messages from Renee. I knew that she was both worried and stressed that I was alone here with Charlie. Neither of them had either respect or hope for the other's parenting ability. Renee herself was a teenager in a middle-age body. Trying to console her worries, I typed a long, detailed email regarding the past events. I deliberately left out any and all referenced to him.

I proceeded to think about doing the simple five trig problems I were assigned in school. Opening the book, I starred at the problem before me…

sinx4/5…what is cosx and tanx?

The problem was extremely easy, and I did these types of problems since seventh grade, however I could not concentrate for some reason. Every time, I starred into the darkness I saw pictures of him, pictures of his eyes. I had never seen something was that angry. I did not even think I was capable of getting that angry. Thinking back to the worst day of my life, I realized I could never be as angry as I imagined he was. He probably was just annoyed, and I misinterpreted his actions. Maybe, he was just disappointed to get a new lab partner, or maybe I really did smell. At times, whenever I looked at him, it seemed as though he was not breathing. Maybe, after gym, I stuck from the activity. In a room that small and so hot, a little smell could turn into a disgrace. Testing this theory, I bent down to see if that was the cause. I did not smell at all, but I was sweating. I was probably sweating due to the amount of stress I currently was under. Abandoning my math homework, I called down to Charlie to let him know I was taking a shower. Closing the door and pulling off my shirt, I realized I was blowing this extremely out of proportion. It was nothing, I reminded myself as I removed the last piece of clothing and climbed into the shower… it was nothing at all.

To my surprise, it might have been nothing at all. Edward Cullen did not appear at school the rest of the week. Maybe, I continued to analyze during English, he was ill. Maybe, he was on vacation. Hell, for all I cared, he might have moved out of the state. Yet, his family was still here. So, the chance that he would leave me the hell alone and move to a different state was unlikely. Yet, this bliss was terribly needed. My emotions picked up, and the days improved. I got into a cycle throughout the days in the end of the week. I got up to school, made small talk with my almost friends, came home, and made dinner for Charlie. I realized that my cooking expertise was far beyond Charlie's, and if I wanted to survive the next two years at all healthily, I would need to cook myself. Homework and school work, itself, was not too difficult. Biology and English were both more and less a repeat from my school at Phoenix. Trigonometry was the hardest, but it was nothing unbearable. Yet, what was unbearable, occurred that Monday.

Walking into the lunch room with Jessica on my heels, I noticed them sitting together, their beautiful faces turned to look at only each other. Yet, there numbers were increased by one. I noticed the beautiful, bronze-haired boy almost the exact second he noticed me. His eyes, even though less angered, still loathed my complete existence. He was gone for the entire week, and he still disliked me. Maybe, my fears were called for, maybe there was something going on with him.

My stomach proceeded to do tumbles the entire way as I walked with Jessica to take our seats. I did not want to look up; I did not want to move my stare from the piece of pork that laid on my plate. Jessica seems to notice my daydreaming, and left me alone and proceeded to talk to Mike. I had no idea of what to due. I could not be a lab partner with a guy that hated me for no reason. Yet, my optimism continued to assure myself that I was blowing this out of proportion. I decided that I would give it another day, and if it did not get better, I would ask the teacher for a change in lab partners. That would be appropriate. I could make up some acceptable excuse of why I would prefer another. There were many other students that would die for the chance to be his partner. I just was not one of them…

Walking into Biology with Mike at my side, I looked at him by accident, and he did not look as anger as last week. He even looked less angry than in the lunch room. Maybe the change was not angry, but confidence. In the lunchroom, his eyes appeared to be questioning a decision. And now, he appeared confident of what he was going to due, and to my surprise, I saw a shadow of guilt behind the burgundy curtain covering his elegant eyes. No matter the terror that he might inflict upon me, he was gorgeous beyond words.

I thought that today he might talk to me, yet he continued to ignore me just as before. However, he did not seem as put off by my persistence. He just acted very disappointed, disappointed beyond any measure of the imagination. I turned my head and tried to take a glimpse of his face. His eyes were melting beneath a cover of grief, and his head trembled as he looked out of the door. Just as before on the first day, I could swear that he was not breathing, not wanting to smell me. To make sure it was not me, I bent down to check, and I smelled. To my pleasure, I smelled like fresh strawberries, very sweet, almost delicious. I was curious to ask him what was wrong, but I realized that since I never talked to him, asking him a personal question might just be out of line. Yet, I realized that no matter what I asked him, the tension between us could not get worse. It could not get possibly any worse. Prehaps, he would realize that I was not the monster he believed.

After the film ended and the teacher gave us a minute to chat among ourselves, I turned to Edward to voice my concerns.

"Edward…" He flinched towards me, not even raising his head. My voice seemed to send shock waves through his body.

"Edward," I quivered as I tried to make my voice sound strong in his presence, "how are you today?" I thought that this might seem as an ambiguous topic that was not too personal. Someone could accept that question as socially acceptable between strangers. Edward did not even turn his head for several seconds. I began to think that he was ignoring me, but then he finally answered, never taking his eyes away from the book that lay before him.

"Fine." His voice was as cold as ice and burned throughout my body as the words echoed through my mind. I turned my head away from his perfect face and pretended to busy myself with needless biology reading. The bell rang within the next minute and was my personal savior.

As soon as the bell rang, we both stood up with a jolt and bolted towards the door. The day was over, and I was going to go home finally. I almost flew out of the building and entered the parking lot to find my car. As I unlocked the car and entered the key into the ignition, I was trying to hold back needless tears. I twisted the key, and to my horror, the engine simply clicked in defeat. I tried again and again, and nothing occurred. My truck was somehow broken. Just about when I was deciding between asking from a ride home from Mike and Jessica or phoning Charlie from the front office, there was a light tap on my window. I started and turned my head slowly. In my horror, there standing there was none other than Edward Cullen.

My heart began to race as I opened the door to face him.

"Bella," How did he know my name, I thought, as he looked into my eyes with grief, "do you need a ride home?" I felt as though my heart might stop. How could he even be talking to me? How was it possible that he knew my truck was broken?

"Bella, I heard your trunk click. If you would like, I can drive you home on my way. I pass your house." I gawped on him, not even surprised that he knew where I lived. Why should this stranger knowing where I live even puzzle me? He seemed to know everything… Yet, even now, his eyes bore into me, past my eyes and into my very soul. The pupils of his eyes were burgundy with a fierceness behind it that I would remember to the day I die. And within that fierceness, within that fury laid the hate coated with grief, the hate that caused my very soul to tremble. There was no denying the pain that he withstood. Even though this person was the cause of my living Hell and endless tears, I felt somewhat bad for whomever, for whatever he was mourning.

"Thanks," I whispered, bearing unable to hear my own words. It did not even seem as though I was speaking. I could not break my eyes away from his face, his undeniable beauty, and the true elegance that his face bore. Edward seemed unphased by my response, almost as though he was certain of it.

"The car is over here, Bella." His voice continued to be soft and detached from any emotion. His car was hardly just a car. There before stood an elegant, shiny Volvo that glimmered in the brief shine of sun.

He walked over to the door and opened it to allow me access to the passenger seat. I glanced up into his eyes as he held the door open. Behind even the constant grief-stricken eyes laid a new layer of a grief. Actually, there was not simply a new layer of grief. It seemed as though a portion of his mind, of his eyes left his body to be replaced by hate. Surprised by his courtesy and the new grief that was within his eyes, I climbed into the Volvo…