I got to the cafeteria a few minutes late. I had sat in my car, having skipped my morning classes to quietly gloat about my success this morning with Bella Swan. I sat alone, ignoring the curious glances I was getting from my classmates and more importantly, my family. Of course, Alice knew why I was sitting alone, and I was sure that she would relay this new revelation to the rest of the family sooner or later. As I looked swiftly at them, I deduced that she had chosen sooner. Rosalie shot me one look that would kill if I weren't already dead, and I could only smile back at her.

I listened intently for Jessica Stanley's voice in my head, as I knew that Bella would enter the cafeteria with her after fourth period. I picked it up as soon as she mentioned Bella's name in her thoughts, and I willed myself to find them in the crowded room. I steeled myself as I took in a deep breath, and found her scent at the lunch line. Bella looked sad, almost disappointed as Jessica turned around to face me, and whispered to Bella, "Edward Cullen is staring at you again," with the slightest touch of disdain.

"She's not even interesting," she complained in her head, giving Bella a mental onceover. "I wonder why he's sitting along today," she said as her gaze shifted to the rest of my family sitting together at our usual table.

I watched Bella's reaction as her head snapped up and she searched me out with her eyes. I sat perfectly still and smiled at her from my empty table. I didn't want to scare her, or do anything wrong, so I made my intentions as clear as possible by raising my index finger and motioning her over to where I was sitting alone. I could hear Jessica's mundane chatter indignantly in my head, so to further exacerbate her, I winked.

I could see confusion, as well as embarrassment cross Bella's face as she tried to desperately come up with some excuse to sate Jessica's rude question, "Does he mean you?"

"Maybe he needs help with his Biology homework," she mumbled. I chuckled inwardly at her attempt. I knew more about Biology than even Mr. Banner's college professors. "Um, I'd better go see what he wants," she said as she turned and came toward where I was sitting. I felt another pang of annoyance at Jessica Stanley as she stared after Bella.

When she reached the table, I took in a deep breath as a wave of venom rushed into my mouth. I swallowed it down as my throat burned, and I exhaled deeply. It was easier every time.

"Why don't you sit with me today," I said politely, smiling at her as she stood unsure behind the seat.

She sat down quickly, eyeing me warily as I continued to smile at her. I was thoroughly still elated as I thought of my success this morning and could not conceal that in my face. I hadn't felt this way in a very long time, and every time I sat down to engage in a conversation with Bella, I found myself eager to know more about her. As much as not being able to hear her thoughts frustrated me, it also made the surprise of knowing what she thought worth it. And it was always a surprise.

"This is different," she stated finally.

"Well," I said, pausing. I knew that I was about to break almost every rule known to my kind. I knew that it was wrong, to be here with her acting as if this relationship was okay. I reasoned with myself that as long as I got her to understand that I was actually dangerous by the end of it, then it would be okay. If she still decided to be associated with me, I could blame it on her ignorance, and know that I had warned her sufficiently against me. "I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly."

She said nothing as I stared at her, and I waited for her to understand what I meant.

"You know I have no idea what you mean, " she pointed out after sixteen seconds.

"I know," I smiled at her again. I vaguely noticed Mike Newton's voice yelling at me in my head for eating lunch with Bella and told her, "I think your friends are angry with me for stealing you."

"They'll survive," she said, offhandedly.

But you might not, I thought darkly to myself, as I took in another deep breath and washed down another mouthful of venom. "I may not give you back, though," I half-joked, gauging her reaction.

I heard her swallow loudly as her expression changed from slight annoyance to one of worry. Finally, I thought to myself. Maybe she finally understood what I was trying to tell her.

"You look worried, " I pointed out lightly, laughing at her expression.

"No," she said, unconvincingly. "Surprised actually… what brought all this on?"

I decided to go with the truth, as much as she didn't understand it. " I told you—I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I'm giving up." I tried to maintain a smile as I told her this, but my eyes stayed serious as they bored into hers. I scrutinized why I felt so compelled to be near her and the answer seemed out of reach as I took in another breath and swallowed another swatch of venom.

"Giving up?" she asked, confused.

"Yes—giving up trying to be good," I explained. "I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." My well-placed smile dissolved as another vision of Bella's broken body entered my mind. I could not bear to see that come true, so why was I still sitting here? Why was she so compelling? It wasn't that it was definitely going to happen—the last thing I wanted was to hurt her, but would staying away from her hurt her more than being there for her, placing myself in her life to be everything I could for her? Yes, if course it was better.

"You lost me again," she said, exasperated.

I smiled again as she spoke. "I always say too much when I'm talking to you—that's one of the problems." I always say too much, but it's never enough, because she still didn't get it.

"Don't worry—I don't understand any of it," she said.

"I'm counting on it," I countered back. I'm counting on more time with you, before you leave forever. Before you never want to be near me again. How long would I have before that time came, I thought to myself. An hour? A week? A month? Years? Would she been that foolish for that long? I deeply wished she would, I did not know what I would do with myself if she were no longer here, but I knew that this was also not possible.

"So, in plain English," she asked, breaking my concentration, "are we friends now?"

"Friends," I pondered, wondering if there were any other words I could use that would be more sufficient for what we were—what I wanted us to be. Soul mates seemed more adequate.

"Or not," she muttered, misunderstanding my musing.

I smiled at her again as I said, "Well, we can try, I supposed. But I'm warning you now that I'm not a good friend for you." Looking into her eyes I could tell she was taking me seriously. This was good. I was giving her a choice.

"You say that a lot," she noted, out loud.

"Yes," I agreed instantly, "because you're not listening to me. I'm still waiting for you to believe it. If you're smart, you'll avoid me." Another choice. What I was doing could hardly be constituted as wrong as long as I was giving her a choice. That's what was missing from my existence wasn't it? A choice? A way to make my own destiny. As long as I had a choice, I would forever present Bella with one too.

"I think you've made your opinion on the subject of my intellect clear, too," she stated, as her voice grew slightly more indignant.

I flashed her an apologetic smile.

"So, as long as I'm being… not smart," she stated as she struggled to put what I was suggesting into words, " we'll try to be friends?"

"That sounds about right."

I watched her as she wrapped her hands around her lemonade bottle and looked down. I was frustrated as I tried to listen solely to her voice in my head, but it never appeared.

"What are you thinking," I asked her, curious. That was a questions friends could ask one another.

She looked up at me, and her eyes became oddly clear.

"I'm trying to figure out what you are."

My jaw clenched as I reflexively tried to think of ways to steer her away from this topic of conversation. If she was as observant as she seemed to be, it wouldn't surprise me if she hadn't found out what I was already at this point. I tried to keep my smile planted on my face as I attempted to coax her theories out of her, hoping each one to be as wrong as the next.

But what if she was right? What if she guessed correctly? Would I continue to talk to her? What would her reaction be? I found myself pondering the situations in which I could freely be myself around her, and I found them almost repulsing. I could kill her. I was a monster, and she deserved something so much better than me. Part of me wanted her to be right, so she could get over this infatuation of getting to know me and be normal, and live her life as normal people do.

"Are you having any luck with that?" I asked her offhandedly.

"Not too much," she admitted.

I laughed. "What are you theories?"

I became more curious as a blush crept into her cheeks and another wave of warmth and venom tried to take over. She was silent as I waited for her answer.

"Won't you tell me," I asked in a voice that rivaled the most persuasive. I felt bad for trying to coax the answer out of her this way, but I felt compelled to know what she was thinking. I needed to know if she knew what I was.

She shook her head vigorously. "Too embarrassing."

I groaned inwardly as I found myself complaining, "That's really frustrating you know."

"No," she disagreed quickly. "I cant 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 possibly could mean…now, why would that be frustrating?"

I grimaced as I realized the extent of my evasiveness on her conscious.

"Or better," she continued, "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 would also be very non-frustrating."

Although I had listened to the truth behind everything she had just said, I could not help but notice how adorable she seemed when she was angry.

"You've got a bit of a temper, don't you?"

"I don't like double-standards."

I stared at her as she glared at me. She was absurd! How could she dare assume that I didn't want to tell her the truth? I had been trying for the past month. There was nothing more dangerous for her than me, and here I was, trying to make it alright for the both of us. I was doing what I thought was necessary.

Mike Newton again interrupted my train of thought as he slew unprecedented amounts of swear words my way. I laughed as the image of him coming over to me to try to fight me for making Bella "angry" filled his mind.

"What?" Bella said impatiently.

"You boyfriend seems to think I'm being unpleasant to you—he's debating whether or not to come break up our fight." I laughed again, despite myself.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bella stated frostily, as her heartbeat sped up. "But I'm sure you're wrong anyway."

"I'm not," I stated surely. "I told you," reminding her, "most people are easy to read."

"Except me, of course," she stated.

"Yes," I echoed back to her anxious, "except for you. I wonder why that is."

I stared at her intently again, for what felt like the millionth time as I attempted to hear her thoughts. I was again, met with silence.

"Aren't you hungry," I asked her, distracting myself.

"No," she said quietly. "You?"

I smiled to myself as I considered for a brief second answering this question honestly. I wasn't hungry, technically. Just dying of thirst. Ha, I thought to myself, not even dying. I was already dead.

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Can you do me a favor," she asked suddenly.

My first instinct was to say no, but I felt that compromise would be the best route to take.

"That depends on what you want."

"It's not much," she assured me.

I waited for her to ask, readying a plethora of responses for whatever her question would be.

"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."

She kept her eyes downward as she spoke, and I heard her heart speed up as I felt an unfamiliar pang of guilt as I looked at her. Did my staying away from her make her sad? I was momentarily elated at the prospect of this idea, and I fought a smile as I responded to her.

"That sounds fair."

"Thanks."

"Then can I have one answer in return," I asked her suddenly.

"One," she clarified.

"Tell me one theory." This was, after all part of the reason I invited her to sit with me. I wanted to know if she knew what I was.

"Not that one."

"You didn't qualify," I countered, " you just promised one answer."

"And you've broken promises yourself," she countered back.

"Just one theory," I tried again. "I won't laugh."

"Yes, you will," she disagreed.

I looked down, trying to pull together my most convincing face, before looking up at her through my eyelashes. "Please?" I breathed, leaning into her slightly.

She blinked and I knew I had won.

"Er, what?" she asked, dazed.

"Please tell me just one little theory."

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

I leaned back swiftly as I scoffed my relief. "That's not very creative."

"I'm sorry, that's all I've got," she said a bit huffily.

"You're not even close," I teased her, inwardly enjoying her annoyance.

"No spiders?" she asked again.

"Nope."

"And no radioactivity?"

"None."

"Dang," she sighed.

"Kryptonite doesn't bother me either," I said chuckling, eliminating that choice for her also.

"You're not supposed to laugh, remember," she reminded me.

I tried my best to compose my face. Here I was worried that she had me figured out, and she was focused on me being the good guy! I was so far from any image she had in mind that I found the idea laughable. I was the worst thing around.

"I'll figure it out eventually," she warned me.

"I wish you wouldn't try," I sighed. I enjoyed her company. It would be a shame when I no longer had her around.

"Because…?" she asked.

"What if I'm not the superhero? What if I'm the bad guy?"

I smiled playfully at my clever analogy, but I conveyed that I was far from joking with my eyes.

"Oh," she said quietly, as her eyes got wider with understanding. "I see."

Did she really? Had I finally said enough that she understood what I had been telling her from the beginning?

"Do you?" I asked incredulously.

"You're dangerous," she asked, disbelieving. I could hear her pulse quicken and her breathing change slightly as she took in the severity of my words. Would this be the moment? Nineteen minutes and twenty-three seconds into our first very real conversation? Would she turn and leave me forever? I could not bring myself to be completely saddened; I had expected this from the moment I called her over. From the moment I laid eyes on her.

"But not bad," she continued, miraculously. "No, I don't believe that you're bad."

She really was absurd. She needed to understand!

"You're wrong," I said, in a voice smaller than I thought I was capable of. I felt bad, I felt selfish—I didn't really want her to go, although I knew she should. I had never felt so conflicted as I did now.

I turned my eyes away from her and tried to erase the again present image of her broken body as I turned her bottle cap in my hands. I could feel her gaze on me, but I could not bring myself to meet her sincere brown eyes. She was so honest, and I was a liar and a fool. I was ashamed of my behavior, to lead her to believe I was anything less than the monster I knew myself to be.

I stayed perfectly still as I listened to her heart murmur the reassurance I needed. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

She jumped to her feet as her heart skipped a perfect beat. "We're going to be late."

I continued to look at the top in my hand as I hid my smile. "I'm not going to class today."

"Why not?" she demanded, her voice wavering slightly at the end.

"It's healthy to ditch class now and then," I finally smiled at her, trying to lighten the mood.

"Well, I'm going then," she told me.

I turned my gaze back to the top in my hands. "I'll see you later, then."

How interesting that my life had become like the top I now held in my possessions. Once so firmly adjusted atop something familiar, to be torn off and sent into a plethora of possibilities, did I end up back on my familiar base, or did I end up thrown away, cast to be damned forevermore? I pocketed the top, a reminder of this pivotal conversation.

There was no way that I was going to sit thought Biology while they pricked themselves to draw their blood types. I knew my blood type. O positive. Universal. Any blood was my blood type. Today was always a day that I was glad to miss, and I found myself no more content than I was during my lunch conversation with Bella than I was as I walked out of the cafeteria to my car after the second bell rang.

Why was she so different? Why did I care about her so much? Why did she care about me so much? I wasn't nearly as interesting as she was. Her mind worked in the most mysterious way; I never knew what she was thinking. Anytime I thought I was close, I was always farther off the mark than before.

I sat in my car and put in my favorite Debussy CD to clear my mind. I could hear thoughts buzzing around in my head, and I tried to clear them all out except for Mike Newton, who I knew would be watching Bella for me during Biology. This was the only useful thing about Mike Newton. Whenever I couldn't watch Bella, he certainly did the job for me. His thoughts were a little more than I could handle, on the contrary, so instead of listening to them, I focused on Bella in my mind, and tried to pick out every different instrument I could hear in the fluid orchestral piece floating around me. As I listened, the melody playing around me was drowned out by aggravated shouts from Mike Newton's head.

What do I do? Is she going to pass out, I heard him think.

I looked in my rearview mirror to see Bella slumped against the sidewalk, Mike Newton standing over her with a horror filled face, her skin chalk white. I was out of the car and had gained ten feet to Bella's current position in an eighty-fourth of a second. I looked around and slowed myself to human pace in case anyone was watching, and decided it would be best for all parties involved if I made my presence known.

"Bella?" I called, loud enough for her and Mike to hear me. Panic began to sweep through me as her reaction was delayed more than usual, and I could hear her heart beating slower than usual. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

"What's wrong," I demanded of Mike in my nicest, most threatening voice—if the two could even be matched together. "Is she hurt," I demanded again as he took two, three, four, five seconds to comprehend what I was asking him.

"I think she's fainted. I don't know what happened, she didn't even stick her finger," he said, bewildered. I felt a fleeting stab of pity for poor Mike Newton, who genuinely had no clue what he was doing at all, and at the mention of 'sticking fingers' I was instantly annoyed again. The scent of his blood rushed into my nostrils and I felt my muscles tighten in response to the semi-fresh blood in his pocket. I chose to ignore him and focus on Bella instead, and turned to scrutinize her on the ground, her face pressed to the cement.

"Bella," I asked her, relieved that she was breathing. "Can you hear me?"

"No," she groaned, as her heart sped up slightly. "Go away."

I laughed at her feeble attempts to be independent. Did she have any inkling that I would dare to leave her alone again?

"I was taking her to the nurse," Mike said to me, in a dignified tone, "but she wouldn't go any farther."

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye before deciding it would be more polite to actually provide him with an answer.

"I'll take her," I said, mostly because I knew I could get her there quickly and safely, and also because I knew he would hate me for it. "You can go back to class."

"No," Mike protested, "I'm supposed to do it."

I suddenly became aware at how childish arguing with him was, so instead of responding, took in a deep breath, swallowed the venom that marinated my mouth, and scooped Bella off the ground and into my arms. I held her away from my body, but I could still feel her heat permeating off of her body.

"Put me down," she whined, her eyes closed.

"Hey," Mike yelled after me.

"You look awful," I said to Bella as I carried her to the nurse's office. Her eyes flickered open and she gave me an honest look of disapproval as I teased her.

"Put me back on the sidewalk," she said, groaning.

I put all the events that had just taken place in chronological order, and fought to not laugh at the irony of it all. Here I was, in love with a girl who, by the looks of her, fainted at the sight of blood. My existence, on the contrary, was situated around seeking out just that. Blood.

"So you faint at the sight of blood," I asked, putting my thoughts in to words.

She answered by closing her eyes and clamping her mouth shut. Maybe I shouldn't tease her as much as I did. But I couldn't resist jabbing her a bit more.

"And not even your own blood," I said, smiling at her.

I had finally reached the office. I opened the door with one hand and placed it right back underneath her—I had done it so fast, she would not have noticed the change in my grip on her.

"Oh my," Mrs. Cope exclaimed, looking up to see Bella in my arms.

"She fainted in Biology," I explained in my most soothing voice.

Bella opened her eyes as I placed her down on the brown mattress in the corner. I walked swiftly across the room to watch her from a distance, because the heat in the room and the heat coming from her body were making me extremely tense. My body was almost in pain as I stood in the corner and watched her, while taking in deep, deliberate breaths in hopes of desensitizing myself in the slightest. But while I stood, in that second, I also registered that I had succeeded in holding her—holding—while bringing her to safety. Bella had been in my arms and I had not killed her! She was still breathing, still living, her heart still beating, slowly and steadily.

"She's just a little faint," I offered to the nurse. "They're blood typing in Biology."

She nodded at me astutely, "There's always one."

I tried to quiet my laugh as I calculated the possibility that it would indeed be the one I chose to revolve my universe around.

"Just lie down for a minute honey; it'll pass," she reassured Bella.

Something in Bella's face told me that she had this experience often.

"I know," she said, confirming my thoughts.

"Does this happen a lot," the nurse asked her kindly.

"Sometimes," she admitted, shooting me a look.

I coughed to hide another laugh.

"You can go back to class now," she said, looking at me sternly over her glasses.

I sobered up immediately and lied with perfect audacity and said, "I'm supposed to stay with her."

She looked at me for a moment before letting the issue drop. It worked fine with her, why didn't it work with Bella? She would have asked for some form of proof. She just knew too much.

Turning to Bella she added, "I'll go get you some ice for your forehead, dear."

As she left the room, Bella finally addressed me.

"You were right," she moaned, her eyes closing.

I stood alarmed for a moment, until I willed myself to calm down.

"I usually am," I half-joked, "but about what in particular this time?"

"Ditching is healthy," she huffed.

I looked at her and imagined what it would be like to not have her breathing, alive and was instantly overcome with sadness. I found that I was actually scared that I had lost her. That I would have no more time with her before our time together even began. I wanted to tell her this without scaring her, so I played with the words in my head for a moment before speaking.

"You scared me for a minute there," I said to her. Although I said it lightly, I could not hide the slight agony in my tone. "I thought Newton was dragging your dead body off to bury it in the woods."

Dead Bella jokes were not funny.

"Ha ha," she said, humoring me.

"Honestly," I continued, feeling better that she was responding to me, "I've seen corpses with better color. I was concerned that I might have to avenge your murder."

I looked at her as I said this, and I wondered if she took anything I was saying seriously. Because I was completely, irrevocably one hundred percent serious. I would have killed him, and I found myself capable of admitting it.

"Poor Mike. I'll bet he's mad," she said, mockingly.

"He absolutely loathes me, " I said happily.

"You can't know that," she said, trying to make me—or herself feel better.

"I saw his face," I said lightly. "I could tell." Plus he was practically screaming it in my head.

"How did you see me?" she asked suddenly. "I thought you were ditching."

I instantly told her the truth; "I was in my car, listening to a CD."

The door finally reopened, and the nurse handed Bella a cold compress.

"Here you go, dear," she said, placing the compress on Bella's forehead. "You're looking better."

"I think I'm fine," Bella said, sitting up.

My head turned slightly in the direction of the door as I heard footsteps coming toward the building we were in now. Twenty seconds later, Ms. Cope stuck her heard through the door, "We've got another one."

Bella scooted off the table onto the floor, and handed the compress back to the nurse.

"Here," she said, giving it to her. "I don't need this."

At that moment Mike staggered into the room with Lee Stephens, and I felt my muscles tense as the smell of fresh blood and the wave of venom hit my throat at the same time.

"Oh no," I moaned. "Get out of the office, Bella."

She looked up at me, disapprovingly.

"Trust me," I said as warningly as I could. "Go."

She turned around and left the office as I followed behind her closely.

"You actually listened to me," I said astonished as we walked outside into the waiting room. I half expected to carry her out the room.

"I smelled the blood," she said, wrinkling her perfect nose.

"People can't smell blood," I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

"Well, I can," she countered back, indignantly. "That's what makes me sick. It smells like rust—and salt."

I stared at her. Rust? Salt? Smelling? She amazed more every second. No, blood did not smell like rust or salt, and there was no reason why she should even be able to smell blood. But, I thought to myself at the same time, if anyone would be able to smell blood, and want to faint at the sight of it, it would be Bella. Did she think her blood smelled that way? If she did, she was so incorrect. Her blood smelled so far from rust…but I could not think about her blood right now. I could not think about her blood ever.

"What?" she asked, breaking my concentration.

"It's nothing," I said.

Mike Newton burst through the door at that moment, and looked at Bella and I standing there in the cold.

"You look better," he said grudgingly.

"Just keep your hand in your pocket," she snapped.

"It's not bleeding anymore," he muttered. "Are you going back to class?"

"Are you kidding?" she asked, looking like him as if he had grown a head. "I'd just have to turn around and come back."

"Yeah, I guess…So, are you going this weekend? To the beach?"

He looked at me as he spoke, a clear invitation for me to uninvite myself from the situation. I ignored him as he finished his conversation.

"Sure," she said shrugging. "I said I was in."

"We're meeting at my dad's store, at ten."

He looked at me, and I almost let my mouth twitch in annoyance.

"I'll be there," Bella promised again.

"I'll see you in Gym then," he said, moving to the door.

"See you," Bella said, a hint of edginess in her voice.

He turned, defeated out of the door, leaving Bella and I alone once again.

"Gym," she groaned as soon as the door was closed.

"I can take care of that," I said suddenly, looking at her. "Go sit down and look pale," I muttered to her out the side of my mouth.

I walked over to Ms. Cope with my most persuasive face on.

"Ms. Cope," I said softly.

"Yes," she breathed into me.

I noticed that when she looked at me, like Bella, her heart sped up, but in her case it was because she found me physically attractive. Could this also be the same case with Bella? I found myself excited with the entertainment of that idea.

"Bella has Gym next period and I don't think she's feeling well enough. Actually, I was thinking I should take her home now. Do you think you could excuse her from class?" I said all of this quietly, and refused to take my eyes off of hers.

"Do you need to be excused too, Edward," she asked me slowly.

"No, I have Mrs. Goff. She won't mind."

"Okay, it's all taken care of. You feel better, Bella," she added to Bella over my shoulder.

I gave Ms. Cope one final smile, and turned to face Bella again, my expression one of mocking sarcasm.

"Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you again," I asked her.

"I'll walk," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly.

I held the door open for her, and as she walked out of the office, her hair grazed my hand. It was so soft, I felt oddly compelled to touch it.

"Thanks," she said, as I closed the door behind me. "It was almost worth getting sick to miss Gym."

"Anytime," I said, looking straight ahead of me.

"So are you going?" she asked me, offhandedly. "This Saturday I mean?"

If only I could, I thought to myself. Anytime that I wasn't near Bella I felt myself slowly going more and more insane.

"Where are you all going, exactly," I asked her slowly.

"Down to La Push, to First Beach," she said looking at me.

I struggled to maintain a straight face as I looked down at her expression. It was hopeful, and I felt guilty for having to turn her down.

"I really don't think I was invited," I said, choosing my words carefully.

She sighed at me. "I just invited you."

I was elated that she wanted my company, especially when I was less desired by the company she inadvertently kept. "Let's you and I not push poor Mike any further this week. We don't want him to snap."

"Mike-shmike," she muttered.

We were almost to the parking lot now, and I found myself momentarily confused as she began to turn left toward her car. I reflexively pulled her back to my side, my body suddenly rigid.

"Where do you think you're going," I asked her angrily. I took a deep breath as I tried to recompose myself. Why was I so angry that she was trying to take herself home? I should have expected that someone as stubborn as her would think herself okay to drive herself home after nearly fainting. And at the sight of blood, no less.

"I'm going home," she trailed off, confused.

"Didn't you hear me promise to take you safely home?" I asked her. "Do you think I'm going to let you drive in your condition?"

"What condition," she complained. "And what about my truck?"

I tugged her arm to get her walking again while slipping her keys out of her pocket. "I'll have Alice drop it off after school."

"Let go!" she exclaimed as I continued to all but drag her to my car. She stumbled as I finally let go of her, and I was briefly concerned that she had hurt herself.

"You are so pushy!" she said loudly as I walked around to the other side of the car.

"It's open," I said as I got into the car. I was annoyed that she seemed to believe that I was not at all concerned with her safety. Had I not made it clear that I found her safety to be one of my highest priorities? And here she was, thinking she could drive herself home, especially in this weather.

"I am perfectly capable of driving myself home," she said arguing. It was beginning to rain harder, and I was starting to worry that she would get sick, but I simply could not allow her to attempt to drive herself home. I took in a deep breath and lowered the window. Leaning across the seat, I stuck my head almost all the way out the window and said, "Get in, Bella."

She didn't answer me. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she looked from my car to hers across the parking lot.

"I'll just drag you back," I warned her, guessing her thoughts.

She looked haughty as she opened the door and slumped into the seat. Her demeanor didn't change as I rolled up her window and began to turn up the heat so she wouldn't be so cold.

"This is completely unnecessary," she sniffed, as I turned on the CD that had been playing earlier. I hoped she liked classical.

"Clair de Lune," she asked, surprised.

"You know Debussy," I asked back.

"Not well," she admitted. "My mother plays a lot of classical music around the house—I only know my favorites."

"It's one of my favorites too," I mused as I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

As I took at deep breath I realized there were some things about this ride home that I did not count on. Firstly, I did not anticipate what I would speak to her about. I knew that I could just ask questions, but I did not know which ones would be too personal—I wanted to know everything about her. Secondly, and more importantly, I didn't anticipate on her scent to saturate every surface of the car, especially with the heater on and her soaked in rain. I felt my muscles tense and the familiar burning in my throat as I swallowed another swatch of venom.

Feel the burn, I thought dryly.

"What's your mother like," I asked her, to distract myself.

She looked at me before answering.

"She looks a lot like me, but she's prettier," she said and I raised my eyes. Bella was the single most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. I doubt her mother was anything better looking than she was. I raised my eyebrows as she continued. "I have too much Charlie in me. She's more outgoing than I am, and braver. She's irresponsible and slightly eccentric, and she's a very unpredictable cook. She's my best friend," she said, as her tone got increasingly sadder.

"How old are you, Bella," I asked her. She spoke to me as if she were so far older. I couldn't figure her out. She could smell blood, whatever that meant, she was far more perceptive than any other human I had ever encountered, she had the self-preservation instincts of a cadaver, yet she was soft like a human, and certainly smelled like one…but I couldn't pin her as completely normal, at all.

"I'm seventeen," she said, confused.

"You don't seem seventeen," I countered.

She laughed, and I looked at her, frustrated.

"What?" I asked.

"My mom always says I was born thirty-five years old and that I get more middle-aged every year." She laughed then sighed. "Well, someone has to be the adult." She paused as she quickly contemplated something over in her head. "You don't seem much like a junior in high school yourself," she said, gauging my reaction.

I made a face at her attempt to turn the conversation on me, and I changed the subject.

"So why did your mother marry Phil?" I asked.

"My mother…she's very young for her age. I think Phil makes her feel even younger. At any rate, she's crazy about him," she said, shaking her head.

"Do you approve," I asked her.

"Does it matter," she asked. "I want her to be happy…and he is who she wants."

"That's very generous," I said slowly. "I wonder," I continued, trailing off. Would her mother approve of me? No matter what I was? Or what I was not?

"What?" she asked, breaking my thoughts.

"Would she extend the same courtesy to you, do you think? No matter who your choice was?" I asked, turning my thoughts into words.

"I-I think so," she stuttered, confused. "But she's the parent, after all. It's a little bit different."

"No one too scary then," I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

She grinned in response to my joke, and I felt a rush of euphoria. "What do you mean by scary? Multiple facial piercing and extensive tattoos?"

"That's one definition, I suppose," I said.

"What's your definition?"

Me, I thought. But I chose not to voice that opinion and instead asked her another question. "Do you think that I could be scary?"

I raised one eyebrow to lighten the severity of my question, but her answer was still pertinent all the same.

"Hmmm…I think you could be, if you wanted to," she answered finally.

"Are you frightened of me now?" I asked her seriously.

"No," she said quickly. "So, now are you going to tell me about your family," she asked me. "It's got to be a much more interesting story than mine."

I considered telling her that I wouldn't tell her anything, but remembering our conversation from lunch, I decided against it. "What do you want to know?"

"The Cullens adopted you," she asked, more of a statement than a question.

"Yes."

"What happened to your parents," she asked slowly.

"They died many years ago," I answered honestly.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

Holding back a smile, I said, "I don't really remember them that clearly. Carlisle and Esme have been my parents for a long time now."

"And you love them," she stated.

"Yes," I said, unable to hide my smile. "I couldn't imagine two better people."

"You're very lucky," she said.

Given the extenuating circumstances, I thought. "I know I am."

"And your brother and sister?" she asked again.

Her question reminded me that I still indeed had to pick up my siblings from school.

"My brother and sister, and Jasper and Rosalie for that matter, are going to be quite upset if they have to stand in the rain waiting for me."

"Oh, sorry, I guess you have to go," she said, sounding slightly disappointed.

"And you probably want your truck back before Chief Swan gets home, so you don't have to tell him about the Biology incident," I said back, grinning.

"I'm sure he's already heard. There are no secrets in Forks," she mused.

I barked a laugh. Of course there aren't, I thought sardonically.

"Have fun at the beach…good weather for sun-bathing," I said, glancing out into the rain.

"Won't I see you tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.

"No. Emmett and I are starting the weekend early." I couldn't help but feel happy that she would miss my presence.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"We're going to be hiking in the Goat Rocks Wilderness, just south of Rainier."

"Oh, well, have fun," she said quietly.

I tried to refrain from smiling as I looked at her.

"Will you do something for me this weekend," I asked her, looking her straight in the face.

She nodded enthusiastically.

"Don't be offended, but you seem to be one of those people who just attract accidents like a magnet. So…try not t fall into the ocean or get run over or anything, all right," I said, smiling crookedly. I knew she would get angry, and a very vivid image of a growling kitten came into mind.

"I'll see what I can do," she snapped, as she jumped out of the car and slammed the door.

By the way, I love you, I thought to myself as I drove away smiling.