I ducked into the school building, shaking the snow out of my hair. As I joined the mass of students loitering in the hallway, I swallowed reflexively as the usual wave of repulsive scents washed over me: cologne, the stale sweat in the locker rooms, the food in hundreds of paper bags, the lingering baking soda on hundreds of recently brushed smiles. And rising above all these, one wonderful aroma: blood.
It was three months ago that we had been visited by Demetri and Jane. The purpose of their visit had been to offer me a position with the Guard – my ability to read minds had come to the Volturi's attention. I had been flattered, but knew my place was with my family. I had politely declined, and they had left us.
Carlisle and Esme had been relieved at my decision to stay, and after a few weeks, the guards' visit ceased to be a topic of conversation. In my own mind, however, I kept thinking about the eye-opening experience I had had. Not only had I met my first "normal" vampires, I had also begun to consider new possibilities. I had talked myself in circles about the morality of our diet versus that of normal vampires, and I had come to the conclusion that it was purely a matter of opinion. Carlisle chose to honor what he called the sanctity of human life; Demetri did not. I saw no evidence in his mind that he hated humans; he simply did not think of them as people. After all, one lamb may see another lamb's life as sacred, since they are the same species. But it would be ridiculous for a ravenous wolf to control himself around a mouth-watering lamb; to him, the lamb is just a potential meal. In my own human life, I had eaten meat almost every day and never once felt sorry for the animal I was consuming, because it wasn't a person. I vaguely recalled having a friend that was vegetarian, but it's not like he had thought of animals as being people. Why should he? Why should I hold human life so sacred, when it was so much lower than my own?
I never once included Carlisle or Esme in my deliberations on this subject. I knew it would only offend their sensibilities, and they would be disappointed with my "inhuman" conclusions. It seemed that their goal was to act as human as possible, and they clearly wanted me to be human with them. I thought back to my wolf/lamb analogy. Even if a particular wolf were to decide not to eat lambs, he certainly wouldn't go join the flock and live like a lamb. But I loved my parents deeply, and had no wish to hurt or disappoint them. So I kept my own counsel, and continued my life as an obedient son and quiet high school student. After all, I had never actually tasted human blood, so I did not find it difficult to continue resisting my instinct.
I did allow myself to begin enjoying the scents around me, however. When I had first begun spending my days around humans, I did my best to not think about their blood; I had been too worried about losing control. But now that control was not an issue, I saw no reason why I should not enjoy the air around me. It was also a way to answer the unrest that my recent conclusions had brought me- a way to satisfy the curiosity that I was no longer able to pretend not to have. It was the best of both worlds: I would stay faithful to Carlisle's ideals, while allowing myself a new freedom. And, honestly, it was nice to have something new to do at school. As I had once been fascinated to listen in on the thoughts of my peers, I now took pleasure in studying the scent of each person's blood around me.
There were so many facets to a human's scent. First was their blood, of course. Human blood in general held a sweet, rich aroma unlike anything in the animal world. Some had a floral scent, while others a woodsier, tangy one. Sometimes I could easily describe the scent with a single word, while others were more complex. Sometimes the quality of the scent was confounded by the consumption of alcohol or medications; it changed, also, in the presence of illness, low blood sugar or anemia. I had spent countless hours back in November playing a game to see if I could match the scent to the thoughts of the right person. I had to do something to occupy myself in school, having already learned all the information four times over.
Besides their blood, each person had their own acquired scent as well. This depended on their choice of clothing, soap, cosmetics, diet and the like. In the past three months I had become quite accomplished at discerning each factor, and separating out the scents masking the aroma of the blood. I was becoming a connoisseur without ever having to actually drink the wine, as it were. In each class throughout the day, I had one or two "favorite" people and tried to sit as near them as possible. In gym class, when all the students were stinking of their sweat, I stayed close to the teacher, Mr. Lanham, whose high cholesterol gave his blood an especially rich fragrance. I had my whole day mapped out to maximize my "studies".
But I hadn't been to school in almost three weeks, and I had very little association with humans outside of this building. The holidays normally offered me a welcome respite from the dull routine of school, but not this year. This year, I had almost missed school, because of the scents I had grown accustomed to. My mind quickly filtered through all the unappetizing odors around me, eager to reconnect with the scents I hadn't smelled in three weeks. But as was typical after such a long time away, I was also being distracted by the minds around me. My gift was more sensitive than usual after its eighteen-day vacation in the relative quiet of my home.
The thoughts around me were a mix of disappointment with the vacation's end, and exciting plans for self-improvement as 1927 stretched out ahead. I had no such plans; in fact, I felt the familiar numbness of boredom settle over me as I walked over to my locker. This was my fourth time around as a high school student- the fifth if I counted my time as a human. The novelty of entertaining myself by reading minds was beginning to wear off. I had heard it all by now.
I can't wait to show the guys the bomber jacket I got for Christmas.
1927 is the year I grow out my gorgeous nails. Don't bite, don't bite, don't bite…
It's going to take all week for the students to settle down.
Edward Cullen is such a DREAM! This is the year he's going to notice me. Maybe he just needs a little encouragement. Here goes nothing…
I closed my eyes in exasperation as I recognized the thoughts of Mildred Fuller. At some point or another, most of the girls at Helena High School had fantasized about me in one way or another. My polite disinterest usually was enough to help them move on; most were either going steady or already engaged to be married. Mildred, however, was the most tenacious girl I had ever encountered. She refused to "give up" on me, and her girlish fantasies from two years ago had progressed to mental images that I found very distasteful in anyone – especially a young lady. On her calmer days, she planned out exactly how I was going to propose to her, and how we would travel the world together after our success on Broadway. Ridiculous.
I sighed again as she began to approach, and I pretended not to notice as she walked by, brushing against my arm with her own. There! She thought as she continued down the hallway. I followed her with my eyes, noticing her new dress. It was cut in the flapper style, and she wore stockings with a seam up the back. The dress showed off her figure, which had recently begun bearing the curves of womanhood. I saw in her thoughts that she had purchased the dress with the hopes that it would help me "come to my senses". Really, I couldn't deny her beauty. Her scent, however, was one the most unattractive in the school. Not only did she douse herself with cologne every morning, but her blood often bore the bitter taint of alcohol, due to her late night visits to her father's liquor cabinet. I smirked. For all her efforts, she wouldn't tempt me even if I was a normal vampire.
The bell rang, an irritating screech that always hurt my ears. But this was the moment I had been waiting for. I eagerly rushed – at human speed, of course- to first period. It was my favorite class, not because Biology had changed in the last four years, but because I shared a desk with Margaret Weiss. She was a dull, unimaginative girl. Her mind wasn't worth the time of day, but her scent was absolutely delicious. Her blood carried an unusual blend of floral sweetness and the sharp tang of pine. I sat down next to her and sighed in satisfaction as I took in her aroma. I inhaled again, more deeply, relishing the gentle burn in my throat. I had missed this.
Margaret glanced at me nervously and scooted her chair away from me a few inches. Edward seems like a nice fellow, but he sure gives me the creeps lately.
I didn't understand this. It was true that most humans reacted to me with some discomfort, once the shock of my physical beauty wore off. But I didn't understand why Margaret grew more uncomfortable with me every day. It was as if she understood that I was dangerous, and she was meant to be my prey.
I shook my head to clear the thought. I was not dangerous. I was completely in control, and I had no intention of ever hurting her, or anyone else. There was nothing wrong with appreciating the bouquet of her scent, as long as I didn't actually attack her. I wasn't even thinking about her blood, particularly... just her scent. It wasn't like I was imagining anything about anything involving taste; that would probably be taking things a bit too far. I was simply allowing myself to breathe normally, without the unnecessary austerity that I had subjected myself to in previous years. I was simply taking advantage of the air around me, of the habitat I found myself in; the fact that Margaret Weiss' scent was my favorite habitat wasn't my fault.
As I sat beside Margaret now, the teacher, Mrs. Wilson, saw the troubled look in her eyes as she scooted her chair away. It looks like Margaret and Edward are at odds again. Probably some lover's spat… it might be best if I separate them. Maybe I could switch Margaret to seventh period…
My jaw clenched in anger, and my throat burned slightly hotter at the thought. Separate us? How dare she think about taking Margaret's scent from me! I had five months left with her, and nobody was going to take that away from me. An odd feeling was coming over my hands- one I hadn't felt in a long time. It was the urge to reach over towards the human seated next to me, and take what my throat was demanding... before I lost my chance.
Stop, I ordered myself. It's not going to happen. I clenched my hands under the table, trying to focus on the lecture, the other thoughts in the room, anything to get my mind off the scent next to me. But my mind was treacherous today. All I could think about was the possibility that I might come to this room tomorrow morning, to find Margaret's chair empty. My anger flared again, and the gentle burn in my throat flickered higher in response. Margaret chose this inopportune moment to sigh in boredom and rake her fingers through her hair, thickening her scent around us; it was nothing that hadn't happened before. But this time, my entire body tensed in readiness along with my clenched fists. I couldn't tell who I wanted to attack more: Margaret, or the teacher who was threatening to take her away from me. In either case, I was shocked by the flow of venom in my mouth. What was the matter with me?
For the first time in several years, my own lack of control truly frightened me, and I fled the room.