Disclaimer- I don't own Twilight. But you already knew that, right? Because, if I was really Stephanie Meyers, that whole "I fell in love with Jacob because I'm the mother of his future imprint" thing would not have happened...
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Chapter 2- Weird Science
January 19, 2005
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My alarm clock beeps until I smack it off the nightstand. Any device that intentionally wants me to face another day in this irritating place without a decent night's sleep deserves punishment. The constant whooshing sound of the wind last night kept me up for hours. Even when it's not raining this place finds a way to annoy me.
As soon as I step outside, I look up into the sky and give it a good glare. No sun. No surprise. It's cold and damp today too. It feels like I'm living inside of a refrigerator now.
I climb into my truck and I quickly fasten the seatbelt. I love this truck. I'm well aware that most people around here think it's a piece of junk, but I really don't care. Most of those people are probably driving little cars that are made from tin and plastic which have absolutely no personality. You see cars like them on the road all of the time. My truck is special in that you don't see a classic vehicle that's still capable of moving very often. And it's the good kind of special. Not that "my little Timmy may eat Elmer's paste but he still can recite the names of the presidents in alphabetical order'" type of special.
I pull in at school and park in the middle of the parking lot, well away from the cherry red sports car that's parked a few rows away. It looks like something Malibu Barbie would drive around in. Even though I have never been in a car accident before, I am not going to push my luck. Whoever owns it probably has a legion of lawyers that salivate at the chance to sue little people like me. Or Charlie. Either way, that would be a very bad thing, so I'm going to keep my distance.
After I reach over to pick up my books from my truck, I slam the door and begin walking towards my new school, aka my impending doom. I notice right away that I'm being watched by a small group of kids near the front entrance. That uncomfortable, insecure feeling I get when I'm being stared at is resurfacing. Out of desperation, I pull the hood of my jacket over my head. This hides my face from their view and keeps me from being able to see them. I immediately feel better and take a calming breath of air.
"Bella!" a lovely feminine voice chimes from beside me.
I jump in surprise and further embarrass myself when a loud yelp escapes my throat. And since gravity obviously hates me, I immediately begin falling face first and my books tumble to the ground.
An arm whips out and catches me by my waist, keeping me from face planting in front of the school. "Sorry about that," the musical voice sighs near my ear. "I should have known that would happen."
Once I'm standing upright, I blink my eyes a few times and see Alice Cullen standing in front of me, looking me up and down with a concerned expression. She's dressed in a mid length dress with tan boots that reaches her knees, making her look as if she will be walking down the catwalk in a few minutes. I peek down at my jeans and cheap black sweater. Instantly, I feel inferior standing next to such perfection.
"It's OK," I assure her, trying to ignore my feeling of insecurity. "I was just a little surprised."
A small smile appears on her pale, elven face. "Well, I'm sorry anyway for just popping up on you like that." She deftly bends over like a ballerina, scoops up my things from the pavement, and stuffs them back into my arms. "I'm Alice Cullen, by the way."
I pull my hood off my head. "Uhh... Bella Swan," I reply with a hint of shyness.
Her smile turns into a wide grin. "I know," she says in a perky voice. "Listen... I was wondering... Have you met my brother yet? His name is Edward Masen. He's in the same Biology class as you."
The hypnotic green-eyed boy with spectacular bronze hair that made me a zombiesque mess yesterday?
Nope, I have no idea who you're talking about.
I try to pretend that I need to think long and hard about her question. "Hmm...Umm... I'm not sure, but I might have sat next to him yesterday."
After I answer, her golden eyes appear to grow brighter than before. "Oh, what a coincidence!" she happily croons. "I just started searching for someone who takes that class with him. And then the first person I run into is his lab partner. Small world, isn't it?"
"I guess it is," I uncomfortably mumble, wondering where she was going with this conversation.
"So..." she says in a quieter tone. "It's been kinda tough to find anyone willing to help us out this morning. He's sick with the flu and won't be back for a few days."
"He's sick?" I repeat, my interest in whatever she is going to tell me rising by the second.
"Yeah. He started feeling bad yesterday afternoon but he insisted that he needed to stay at school. You know the symptoms: nausea, dizziness, fever. The whole works. My other brother Emmett found him in the boys restroom hugging a toilet. He could barely walk on his own."
Hmm... Maybe it wasn't my face that made him look like he wanted to vomit. It was just the flu. I don't know why, but it makes me feel a little bit better about myself.
"I'm sorry to hear that," I reply back with a hint of sympathy.
"Thanks. I'm trying to keep him from falling too far behind by picking up his work from each of his classes. So far, I've made arrangements with all of them except for Biology. But you know how Mr. Banner is. He just loves for the class to take detailed notes, but he doesn't bother to write down anything for absent students. And if Edward doesn't have access to those notes, he might flunk!"
"Oh. That is pretty bad."
"Yep," Alice sighs. "So, I was wondering if you knew anyone that would be willing to let me copy those notes until he can come back to school? I'm desperate."
"Umm... I really don't know anyone that well yet. I just started school here yesterday."
"I know," she says in a shrewd tone. A silent moment passes by, then her eyes light up like a supernova. She flings her tiny arms around me and gives me a crushing hug- somehow knocking the wind out of me in the process. "Welcome to Forks, Bella!" she yells.
"Thank you," I gasp out as I struggle to breathe.
"Oops! Sorry!" she cringes as she releases me. She takes a step back, sighs, and looks down at the ground in shame. "I get a little excited sometimes."
"It's fine," I smile while I straighten my clothes. "No big deal."
Taking a peek at me, she seems to cheer up a little once she sees that I'm not upset with her. "OK. Well... I guess I should stop bugging you and go try to find someone that could help me out," she sadly announces while taking another step backwards.
I don't know what comes over me. Maybe it's how nice she seems or the fact that she's on her own trying to help her brother, but I discover that I want to help too.
"Oh... Well, you know... I guess I could do it for you," I offer.
"Would you?" she bursts out like I'm offering to clean her bedroom for the next month. "That would mean so much to me... And Edward. Especially Edward. It would really help him out."
"Sure," I nonchalantly shrug. "I'll have to do it anyway."
"Thanks!" shrieks Alice as she envelopes me in another enthusiastic but gentler hug. "I'm so happy to meet you, Bella! You don't know how much of a life saver you are."
I've never met someone that wants to hug me so much. I must be more lovable than I thought. Alice treats me as if we've known each other for years. She is so much friendlier than Jessica portrayed her yesterday...
"Oh, well. It's nice to have met you, too," I uncomfortably reply. I'm not as good at expressing my feelings like Alice is. Thanks Charlie. I get that from you.
The warning bell clangs, letting us know that we only have five minutes left to get to class. "Ugh," she pouts with a disappointed expression on her face. "I had so much more that I wanted to talk with you about, but I guess that will have to wait for later... See you after school by the library? I can use the copy machine and then give your notes right back to you."
"Yeah," I agree. "Sounds good."
Saying a quick goodbye, she zips away towards the math building- leaving me alone to deal with a dozen or so stunned student faces staring at me in the parking lot. I huff out a sigh and yank my hood back over my head.
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At lunch, Jessica and a boy named Mike invite me to sit with them. The girl that walked me to Biology yesterday is there too. I take a seat and suddenly this table is the most desirable spot in the school lunchroom. A second or two goes by and a girl with braces and a tendency to bounce when she speaks drops onto the chair across from me. With only one chair left at the table, two boys from across the room start sprinting towards the last seat and silently fight over the right to sit here. It looks like they're playing musical chairs but with no music. They each have a hand on the back of the chair which they are pulling back and forth. After a little while, one boy inexplicably gives up and the boy that I met yesterday named Eric sits down.
I had hoped that after the drama was over that I would be allowed to eat in peace, but I soon discover that in order to sit here, I will be expected to pay these people back by being their entertainment. Nearly everyone at the table wants to talk to me- and all at once it seems. I hear the braces girl ask me if I know how to ride a horse since I'm from the desert. Jessica starts blabbering about some tidbit of gossip that I have absolutely no interest in. Eric starts commenting about how nearby Port Angeles has a lot of fun, interesting things for teens to do on the weekend. And Mike asks if I've ever had a blood blister on my foot after walking ten miles down a boggy hiking trail.
My brain feels like its ready to shimmy out of my nose to escape. At my school back home, I could sit and eat with only occasionally being expected to talk with anyone. I was not exactly considered the most interesting person. But it definitely had its perks. At least I could eat in peace back then.
Once my new lunch table buddies remember that they haven't eaten a thing since they started talking to me, they begin digging into their food. I send up a silent thank you to the cafeteria gods and finally relax.
I glance around the room and see the Cullens sitting at the same table as the day before. Of course, Edward's not there, but it's almost as though his absence is being sorely felt among his family. They all look dispirited and hardly speak to one another. The huge guy, Emmett, appears particularly gloomy. There's an unmistakable frown on his face and his gaze keeps going back to look at the empty seat next to him.
Hours later, the last bell of the day finally rings and I flee the gymnasium. I had to participate today and it was not pretty. I fell. I knocked into innocent bystanders. I ran into the volleyball net. The coach eventually had mercy and told me to go sit on the bench.
Rushing over to the library, I find Alice already standing there. Once she sees me, she beams a gigantic grin but thankfully doesn't grab me again for another hug. We say hello to one another and I hand her my biology notes for today. We go inside and I watch as she uses the copy machine.
"Thanks again for this, Bella," she says as she hands me back my papers. "This is just what he needs. I'm sure once he can sit up without experiencing vertigo he'll appreciate all your work."
"Well, umm... It's no problem," I tell her as we walk to my truck. She bids me a quick goodbye, then skips over to the passenger side of that cherry red sports car I saw this morning. In awe, I stand there and gawk at blonde bombshell Rosalie as she backs her luxurious vehicle out of the lot.
It seems so unfair. Undeniably beautiful and rich? What chance in life do the rest of us have when we have that to compete with?
The next morning, I drive into the parking lot and notice Alice dashing out from behind the large hedge that's near the front office. She zips up to my truck and patiently waits for me to get out.
I'm naturally curious why she is waiting for me this morning. I mean, I don't have anything else that she needs. She copied my notes yesterday afternoon and I don't have that class again until much later today.
Alice bounces on her toes as I exit the truck. "Hi, Bella! I just wanted to say thanks to you again for all of your help. I gave Edward your notes and he was so grateful."
"He was?" I ask with more interest than I should. "He must be feeling better then."
Her face explodes with cheerfulness. "Yes! Much better. He can sit up now without throwing up," she relaxedly comments.
"Well, that's good then," I awkwardly reply.
"Yeah, it is, but he's still not one hundred percent better yet. He's still weak so he's pretty much stuck in bed all day."
"Oh?"
"Yep," she chirps. Then, with a softer, somber tone, she adds, "But he's usually up there anyway listening to his music collection. He keeps to himself a lot."
"Hmm," I noncommittally mutter.
"To tell you the truth, Bella, I think that he's basically ostracized himself up there."
My ears perk up. I can relate to ostracization. "How come?"
"I think he misses his home," she sighs.
"Oh," I mumble. I understand that too...
"We've been telling him that moping up in his room will only make him feel worse, but does he listen? No. So, he stays up there and suffers alone."
"Maybe he needs help," I advise. "Therapy maybe?"
Alice's eyes widen while her head furiously shakes back and forth. "No, no, no. It's not as bad as that," she explains. "I think that he just needs to interact more with people. He has us, of course, but I don't think it's enough for him. I believe that he needs...something more."
"Like what?"
Shrugging her petite shoulders, she says, "Oh... I'm sure he'll figure it out eventually. He's very intelligent for a boy his age. Pigheaded maybe, but smart too. I just have to push him a little towards what's best for him." She glances down to her wristwatch. "I guess I better get to class. See ya later at the library?"
"Yeah. I'll meet you then."
The following morning, Friday, Alice meets me again and promises that today will be the last day that she needs my help. She tells me that Doctor Cullen thinks that Edward will be back to school on Monday.
During third period Spanish, Jessica slumps in her chair beside me and wearily sighs. Before the teacher begins the lesson for the day, I lean over and ask, "Is anything wrong?"
Wanly bobbing her head, she stares sadly back. "Yeah... I think something's wrong with Edward. He hasn't been to school in three days. I hope he didn't get transferred to another school."
I squirm in my seat, wondering how much I can say without revealing that I have been keeping up with his absence. "I wouldn't worry about it too much," I console. "He's probably just out sick. I'm sure he'll be back soon."
Her face lightens up, my hypothosis seeming to cheer her more as each second ticks by. "You're right," she agrees. "That's probably what it is. Maybe I should send him some get-well gifts." Her earthy brown eyes pop open and she nearly shrieks in the middle of class. "I know! I'll get his address and visit him too! I bet you he'd just love that story I told you about yesterday."
The ten minute long story about how you heard that Ms. Leggate from Home Economics is having an illicit affair with the shop teacher?
I may not know Edward yet, but I have a feeling that a conversation like that would send him back into delirium. I know it did for me...
"I don't know, Jess... It's probably best if he uses the rest of the weekend to recuperate at home without so much excitement. I'm sure he'd love to hear the story once he comes back to school."
She puckers her lips out in obvious disappointment. "I guess you're right," she concedes.
Half an hour later, she passes me a note.
Hey, I'm working on something to write on Edward's get-well card. What do you think about this?
Your nose is red
Your eyes are green
I've missed you like crazy
I can't wait til you're out of quarantine
I sadly shake my head at her, and wish I can tell her to hold off on her dream of becoming a Hallmark card writer.
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Monday morning comes and I go about my business as usual. I'm well aware that Alice said that her brother would probably be back today. And, when I don't see her floating around my truck when I pull in this morning, I figure that he must be back.
Not long after I get to school, I'm horrified when I spot snow falling from the sky. To me, snow plus sidewalks plus Bella will only equal a disaster. Between classes, the other kids toss snowballs at everything in sight, especially their classmates. Their heads become icily damp, covered in snowflakes and bits of leaves and other debris. I watch them with as much wariness as I would a tiger that is hunting me through the jungle.
Lunchtime rolls around and I follow Mike and Jess into the cafeteria. Something from beyond my control takes over and I scan the room for the Cullen table. No one's sitting there yet- they're probably outside playing in the snow like a lot of the other students. I sit down at the table that has become my usual place while Mike and Jessica each take the chairs on my sides.
Jessica starts chatting and I forget the Cullens for a little while. I eat while she goes on and on about the drama of high school. I feign interest as I gobble down my pizza. Reaching to grab my bottle of water, I accidentally look across the room and see that the Cullens are there now.
Unlike the other times that I've watched them, they seem happier. All of them, except for Rosalie, are looking at Edward with smiles on their faces. He's smiling a little too. I watch as he smoothly slides a slice of pizza off of Emmett's tray. Emmett's brows furrow while Jasper chuckles at Edward for his theft.
I become fascinated watching their interactions with one another. The three boys smile and laugh while Alice talks. Rosalie seems to be keeping to herself, not saying a word to anyone and looking bored to death.
I glance back at Edward and notice that he's the only one of them that's eating. He's scarfing down the pizza and popping carrot sticks into his mouth like a Hungry, Hungry Hippo. Sure, I get that he's a growing teenage boy, but this only makes me more curious. Jasper is just as tall as him, and Emmett is gigantically huge. Wouldn't they need to eat like a marathon runners just to maintain enough energy to walk around? Instead, they are just poking and prodding at the food on their trays.
Then, as this question is passing through my thoughts, Edward's head snaps my way and he spots me watching him. I can almost feel his eyes when they land on me. To keep myself from repeating the embarrassment that happened last week, I whip my body around to face Jessica. I try to concentrate on her and what she's saying.
"Julie and Zach were making out on the couch when her parents caught them. But, really, I don't see what Julie sees in Zach because I think he's kinda a loser," Jessica chatters, leaving me wondering who these people were. It takes me another minute or so of careful concentration to realize that she's describing what happened on a TV show from the night before. "Anyway, her mom kicks him out of the house and tells Julie that she can't see him anymore- which I really don't think is such a bad thing cause those glasses of his don't help his face at all. So, then-" Jessica's mouth abruptly snaps shut, leaving me forever in the dark about what happened to the fictional family. Her arm flings into the air and begins frantically waving at someone across the room.
I glance to where she's staring and see Edward give her a brief nod of acknowledgement before turning to Emmett beside him. Jessica's hand falls to her side and a dreamy sigh passes her lips. "He looked at me again," she says in amazement. "He was staring right this way... I wonder what that means?" She turns to me, gazing at me intently to gage my reaction. "Maybe our time apart was good for him," she concludes with a smile. "I bet you that he missed our special talks in the mornings."
I can't think of a proper response to give to her, so I just smile and nod. Smiling and nodding your head when you are actually secretly worried about the mental health of the person you are speaking to is the only way you can avoid confrontation.
Lunch ends and I try to prepare myself for my next class. When we step outside the cafeteria, we see that the snow has turned into a cold, dripping rain. Jessica, Mike, and half a dozen other kids bemoan the lost opportunity to lob snowballs at random victims. However, I am beyond relieved that the "fun" is over. The only thing worse than being rained on is being pelted with freezing slush balls.
I make it to Biology class without slipping too much on the icy sidewalk and take a seat. Edward's not here yet- giving me time to relax and make myself comfortable. The other students are busily yapping to whoever will listen. The sound of their droning voices reminds me of a hive of bees- buzzing and relentless.
Not long before the bell rings, I see Edward's disheveled head enter through the classroom door. I want to study him as he walks to our shared table, but I know that it would be a grave mistake. I don't want to seem overly interested that he's back, let alone enter into that weird trance-like state that happened to me last week. So, instead, I keep my head pointed towards the front of the room where Mr. Banner is rifling through his desk. I pretend that this is interesting to me, but all I seem to notice is the sound of Edward's chair as he takes a seat.
A moment or two passes by.
Then a throat clears.
Without thinking, I turn my head towards him slightly- just enough so I can see him out of the corner of my eye. Maybe if only one of my eyes are on him at any given time, I will be OK...
I can barely make out his face, but it's enough for me to know that he's staring my way. "Hello. I'm Edward Masen," he says formally in a smooth, deep timbre. "You must be Isabella." He pronounces my name with a flourish- emphasizing it like it's important.
But, of course it's not.
I have to fight to keep from flinching when I hear my real name. I hate it. Though, I have to admit... It doesn't sound as bad when he says it.
But... The fact that he doesn't just call me "Bella" confuses me. Alice called me Bella several times. I'm sure she mentioned that "Bella" helped her out last week. So, why would he still insist on calling me by my real name?
Nervously, I bite down on my bottom lip and turn my head towards him a little bit more. "Bella," I correct him in a small voice.
"What?" he barks out with furrowed brows.
"It's, um..." I stammer like an idiot. "I prefer Bella."
"Oh," he confusedly replies back before his gaze darts down to our table top.
Now that he's no longer looking at me, I gather the courage to turn my head all the way towards him to get a better view. I see that his skin is a normal color now- no longer is it clammy looking. He's wearing a long sleeved gray shirt and brown leather jacket that probably costs more than Charlie paid for my truck. And, somehow, despite the unflattering florescent lighting of the room, I have to admire the strands of his hair that are shining like a newly minted penny.
Before I can analyze him any further, he jerks his head back up and it happens again.
I instantly become focused on him and on him alone. I see his mouth move, as though he wants to say something, yet nothing is coming out. Instead, his green-hued eyes appear to widen- leaving me feeling as if I'm about to fall into them. They are bright and alert- no longer do they appear feverish or delirious. The noise of the class seems to fade into the background as we continue to just stare at one another.
The teacher raises his voice and calls for everyone's attention, which causes me to blink by reflex. By the time I refocus on the boy sitting next to me, I see that he is staring straight ahead towards Mr. Banner. Clearly, our strange moment has passed.
I follow his lead and try to forget what just happened.
Mr. Banner explains our assignment while he strolls around the front of the class. We are to organize onion root tips slides into their stages of mitosis- an assignment that I've done back home in Phoenix. This should be easy...
Microscopes and small boxes full of slides are passed around the room. Mr. Banner walks up to each table and lays down one sheet of paper. "I expect you to work closely with your lab partner to complete this project," the teacher sternly commands us. "This will be a group effort. Each of you will need to contribute in some way."
Oh, no.
Why, Mr. Banner? Why? A group assignment? Really?
I desperately want to raise my hand and ask if I will receive extra credit for working under duress. Not being able to look at your lab partner without turning into a brainless zombie should count towards something, shouldn't it?
Our teacher gives the go ahead and everyone in the room, except me, turns towards their completely normal lab partner.
I'm so jealous of them...
I hear the chair next to mine scraping against the linoleum. I give a tentative peek in his direction to see what he's up to now. His chair is angled towards me while his elbow casually leans against our table. I can tell that he's waiting on me to acknowledge him.
My lab partner expects me to work with him too, I guess.
I have to find a way to deal with this. I just need to relax and calm myself down. My overactive imagination is just messing with me. I'm taking a completely ordinary situation and turning it into something bigger than it really is.
Then, I remember my mantra from the other day that seemed to help me.
He's just a boy. I repeat in my head while taking a lung full of air.
There.
That's better. My breathing is normal again. Heart rate is slowing down. I've got this under control.
With this boost of mental strength, I turn to face him. My gaze lands on him and I'm thrilled that my mind doesn't immediately seize up like before. I can even look him in the eye without turning into a blubbering moron. I knew I was just overreacting.
But, then his face does the one thing I don't anticipate.
He smiles.
It's not your average how-are-you-today type of smile that I normally see. That type of smile is often forced- fake and obvious. It's the same kind of smile that I had to give my mom when I insisted that I wanted to move back to Forks. I must be a better actress that I thought because she accepted it as proof that I was telling her the truth.
But, this smile of Edward's is different. Only one corner of his mouth is lifted- making his smile lopsided. It looks boyish and mischievous. Yet, most intriguingly to me, it feels genuine.
My breath catches and I'm back to being a complete mess again.
He points down towards our shared box of slides. "Umm..Ladies first?" I hear him say through my mental fog.
An indeterminate amount of time passes by while I dumbly gape at him. I know that he expects me to answer him, but my mind has disconnected from my mouth.
That crooked smile of his is slowly vanishing the longer I stay silent. Eventually, it's gone completely. A confused frown is beginning to form on his face. He's probably wishing that he could have a lab partner that can form intelligible words without falling into a vegetative state.
This epiphany helps bring me back to reality. Since he invited me to go first, I can focus my attention on our work. That should keep me busy...
I take another second to prepare myself and then I answer him. "Sure," I reply in a tone that sounds calmer than I really am. Without giving him another glance, I whip my hand out to grab a slide at random. I flick it under the microscope, examining it and coming to a conclusion in a few seconds.
"Prophase," I announce as I reach to pull out the slide from the microscope.
"May I take a look as well?" I hear him politely request. Though, before I can answer him, a hand falls upon my own, keeping me from being able to remove the slide. It's large and warm, and completely envelops mine. His thick, long fingers are moving ever so slightly, absentmindedly brushing against the top of my hand. In a way, it feels comforting, but my brain is too busy screaming in panic to enjoy it. And panicking is not a viable option right now. I've already made enough of a fool of myself in front of this boy.
So, I take a large gulp of air and hold it in to keep from hyperventilating. Back when Mom took yoga, I learned this technique from the dozen or so books she bought on the subject.
While I calm myself, my eyes travel upwards and I see that he's staring at our joined hands. His forehead is crinkled down in deep thought. For a second, he reminds me of the statute of The Thinker. Except, unlike that famous statue, Edward is fully clothed. Thank goodness.
Then my body reminds me that I've been holding my breath for longer than necessary. My lungs uncontrollably release my breath, and I greedily gasp for new, clean air. His face clears from whatever was occupying his thoughts and he snaps his head up to look at me. For a moment, a look of shock crosses his face and he yanks his hand away.
"Excuse me," he quickly mumbles.
Immediately, I pull my hand away from the microscope- too stunned to say anything back to him. I keep my gaze safely fixed down at the table- well away from eyes and smiles and hands that seem to have more power over me than they should have.
Our microscope is dragged away from my sight and I can vaguely sense that he is checking the slide. After a short time, I hear it being pushed back in front of me.
"Prophase it is," he lightly agrees.
I take a peek at him and I see that he's smiling again, but I think I can handle this one. It's small and apologetic. I keep watching him as he slides the paper the teacher gave us closer to himself. In beautiful curving script, he quickly and confidently writes the answer down. I instantly feel inadequate. My own handwriting looks like I'm experiencing a grand mal seizure whenever I take up a pen. And to think that I gave this boy my own biology notes written down in my god awful scrawl...
His bronze head pops back up and he tips it towards the microscope, causing me to forget what I was worrying over. "Next slide?" he suggests.
I seize upon his suggestion and throw in another slide. A few seconds of inspection later, I call out my assessment as I push the microscope over to him. He takes it, briefly examines it, and agrees before he jots down the answer on our worksheet. Somehow, we have come up with a way to work together without even discussing it first.
In only a few minutes of time, we have studied and organized each and every slide. Our worksheet is complete. We're finished.
But the rest of our class? Not so much...
I look around and see that we're the first ones done with the project. Everyone else seems to be struggling with our assignment. The usually even-tempered Mike and his lab partner are arguing back and forth about how they should arrange the slides. I sigh and turn to face towards the front of the room.
"I... want to apologize for the way I left the other day," I hear Edward say in a quiet tone. I whip my head around and see that he's staring at me. "Normally I wouldn't run off after someone speaks to me."
He's apologizing for being too sick to chitchat last week? Who asks for forgiveness for that?
"Oh, you don't need to apologize to me," I assure him. "I understand. You weren't feeling well. It could happen to anyone."
With a subtle shake of his head, he insists, "Well, regardless, I apologize."
"Really, it's OK..." I repeat.
I glance down at our table and glimpse the worksheet that features his perfectly formed writing, which reminds me of my biology notes again. Was he able to read my messy scribbles? And, if he could, did he understand what I wrote?
I should probably keep my mouth shut since I was finally able to speak and behave like a normal, rational girl. But, I guess I'm a glutton for punishment. And, naturally curious...
"So, I guess you're feeling better now?" I ask him, hoping that he will voluntarily cough up the information.
"Yes, much better," he replies. Then his mouth shuts as if that's the end of our discussion.
I nod my head, but my insatiable curiosity is overwhelming. I want to know. I need to know if my notes helped him or hurt him.
Stupid pride...
"Were you able to understand the notes?" I finally ask.
His head jerks back slightly as his brows furrow down. "What notes?"
"The Biology class notes," I quickly clarify to him. "I was the one that wrote them."
"Oh, I didn't realize that they were yours. Thank you, they were very helpful."
He thanked me- even managing to sound truly appreciative of my contribution while he was out sick. So, I should probably leave it at that.
But, why didn't he know that it was me? I can't imagine that Alice wouldn't at least mention that his new lab partner was helping him out...
"Your sister didn't tell you?" I blurt out before I can change my mind.
"Didn't tell me what exactly?"
"That they were from me."
This seems to surprise him. His brows shoot up to his forehead while he stares back at me with a confused expression on his face.
"You spoke with my sister?" he cautiously asks. I nod my head up and down, which only serves to puzzle him more. Then his face takes on a more contemplative look. "The one that runs around as if she just ingested a few dozen cupfuls of coffee?"
A smile appears on my face before I can even think about it. His description matched Alice to a tee. "Yeah," I confirm to him.
For a brief moment, his eyes narrow and sharpen in their intensity. Before I can identify what that may mean, his smile is back. Though, this time, it looks more strained than genuine.
"It must have slipped her mind," he laughs as he runs his fingers through his hair.
Hmm...
"She's very...energetic," I observe aloud, ignoring his discrepancy in behavior for now.
I hear him incoherently mumble something under his breath, then his focus lands back on me. "I hope you didn't go into any trouble," he gently says.
"No. Alice did nearly everything. All I did was listen to Mr. Banner and wrote down what he said."
He nods his head for a moment as his mouth puckers out. Clearing his throat, he continues. "I don't mean to pry, but did Mr. Banner ask for you to take the notes?"
Wow... Alice must not have told him anything.
"Oh, it was Alice. She asked me Wednesday morning before school if I could help her out until you got back." His eyes suspiciously narrow again as he listens, but he says nothing more on the subject of his sister.
After a short silence, he speaks again. "So..." he says in a friendlier voice. "How has life been for you now that you're living in Forks?"
Yay... It's the question that I dread the most. I have to either lie my butt off, or come up with an answer that doesn't hurt anyone's feelings. Every single person that will ask you this question wants you to say "oh I love it here" or "it's better than I ever dreamed".
But, of course, I would never in a million years say either one of those things. If I were lie to that degree, a lightning bolt would strike me dead.
I'd love to tell Edward that Forks is the embodiment of every nightmare I have ever had. That no one in their right mind would want to live here. I want to say that I've only lived here for a week, but it feels like forever. I want to say that Forks will never, ever be home to me.
But, instead, I choose to be diplomatic.
"It's different," I say offhandedly. I'm not lying or insulting this gloomy town in front of its citizens. It's a win-win.
A small grin creeps across his face after a few beats. "So, what you're really saying, is that you hate it." He says this with supreme confidence and just a touch of amusement.
Crap.
I shake my head vigorously, denying his astute judgement. "I don't hate it..." I claim.
One of his eyebrows arches up, contradicting my claim without even speaking.
Double crap. The jig is up.
Sighing in defeat, I give up and admit to this boy the secret that I have kept hidden from everyone else since I moved here. "Well, I guess you could say that I do hate certain things about it."
"Such as?" he encourages.
He wants to know why I hate this place? Well, I hope he's prepared to listen for a few hours...
"The cold. The constant rain showers. The fact that the sun never shines here. The mud that gets stuck on the bottom of your boots. The puddles that are everywhere." I stop here because I doubt he wants to hear the whole list right now. My list is very long.
He intertwines his fingers together and stares back at me with an expression that I can't interpret. "Do you realize that you basically just described the city's tourist brochure?" he remarks with a touch of sarcasm.
Sarcasm.
He speaks my language.
I decide to go along with his deadpan attitude. I widen my eyes as if what he just revealed was a surprise to me. "People come here willingly?"
A smile reappears on his face. "On occasion, or so I'm told," he laughs. It sounds happy and carefee now. I feel certain that he's not faking it. Without being able to stop myself, I smile along with him.
We fall into a period of silence, and his smile slowly softens. His face goes back to a deep, probing look as he watches me. "I take it that you didn't. Come here willingly, that is," he observes.
I chew my bottom lip while I come up with a way to avoid answering his question. "Yes and no. It's kind of complicated," I eventually reply.
"Complicated you say?" he comments with a wan smile. I look into his eyes and see a flash of pain. "I'm not exactly a stranger to those types of situations myself," he gently adds.
Of course... He's an adopted child. Jessica said that his family all died. She said that he left his whole life behind in Chicago. He would definitely understand complicated...
"My mother remarried," I warily confess, memories of my lost home flooding my thoughts.
Nodding his head, he leans back in his chair while he thinks over what I just said. "I see..." he musingly remarks. "And he was one of those evil stepfathers you read about in a Dickens novel?"
The corners of my lips want to lift at his remark, and I vainly struggle to keep from outright laughing at his teasing joke. "Umm, no," I smile. "Phil is a pretty nice guy. He's good for her."
"Then why did you leave?" asks Edward immediately afterward.
His direct question brings me back to my reality. The lighthearted moment is gone now. "Phil travels a lot around the country for his job," I tell him in monotone. "Mom would stay at home with me, but I could see that she missed him. I didn't feel right about forcing her to stay with me when she really needed to be with him." I don't want to sound like the pathetic, homesick girl that I really am, so I attempt to sound more upbeat about my new life when I continue. "So... I moved here to keep Charlie company."
His brows furrow back down and he appears more astonished now than earlier when I told him that I had helped his sister. "What you're saying is that you moved from one of the driest places on Earth to the wettest place on Earth just to please your mother and her new husband?" He sounds both incredulous and dumbfounded.
"I wouldn't say it like that..." I falteringly say. "It's more like I'm giving them the ability to go wherever they please without having to worry about me as much."
Slowly, his brows unfurrow. Leaning forward in his chair, he stares deeply into my eyes with a strange look that I can only guess at its meaning. All I know is that it draws me in and I watch, spellbound, as he begins to speak.
"I'm sure you're wrong there," he murmurs, his voice both soothing and warm. "I imagine that your mother will worry about you no matter where you are. I don't believe it's possible for love to cease just because you cross state lines."
My face instantly blushes a scarlet shade of red. I'm not sure if it's because of what he just said or if it's how he's staring at me. Apart from my crippling clumsiness, my humiliating tendency to blush is rearing its ugly head now.
Perfect. Just perfect, Bella...
I allow my face to escape his scrutiny by dropping my gaze down to my notebook that's in front of me. In a slow, agonizing pace, I feel my cheeks gradually lose their heat.
Mr. Banner snaps his fingers and orders everyone to quieten down. I take a peek at Edward and notice that he's back to focusing on the teacher. I mutely sigh and then do the same, listening to the teacher as he explains to a few of the students that they did not answer the worksheet correctly.
At the end of the hour, the bell rings and Mr. Banner dismisses us. I begin gathering up my things into my arms.
"Bella?" I hear Edward call out from beside me. I pause in my task and give him a tentative glance. He's standing with his books clutched casually to his side with just one hand- a position that I can only wish to accomplish without spilling everything on the ground. "I just wanted to say that it was nice meeting you," he says with a bright grin.
"Yeah. It was nice meeting you, too," I tell him with an answering smile. His lips widen a bit more before he turns to leave the room. I take a few seconds to watch him stride away before I resume scooping my books up from the table. By the time I'm done, Mike is beside me and staring towards the classroom door.
"What did Masen just say to you?" he asks with a hint of accusation marring his tone. I shrug my shoulders and act as if it wasn't much.
Because it wasn't much of anything.
Really.
"Oh, he just said that it was nice to meet me," I nonchalantly answer. We begin walking together towards our last class of the day- gym.
My answer doesn't appear to please Mike much. His face darkens as his mouth pinches together. I've never seen him look like this before. Where did happy-go-lucky Mike go?
"You need to be careful, Bella," he warns out of the blue.
I incredulously scrunch my face up. "Of what?"
"Of him," he cryptically answers.
"Why?" I question him.
Mike takes a second to check all around him, as if anyone cared enough about our conversation to listen in. Once he assures himself that no one is around close enough to eavesdrop, he whispers an answer. "Because he's weird."
I want to laugh. I want to throw back my head and giggle like a lunatic. What a great reason to be wary of your fellow lab partner...
"Really?" I exasperatingly breathe out. "And you're basing your judgment on what now?"
"On my months of observing him," Mike tells me. "Edward is just plain weird, Bella."
"Like his family?" I offhandedly mention just to see what he would say.
Mike falls for it and nods his head. "Well, yeah. Maybe he isn't as shut off from the world as they are, but he's not much better. He'll talk to us and stuff. But he doesn't want to. I can tell."
"Maybe he's just shy."
Mike huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes. "No. I don't think so. He doesn't seem to be the type. I think there's something else going on with him."
"Like what, Mike? What's your theory then?"
"OK. I'll tell you, but you need to promise me that you won't say anything."
"Sure."
"Three words. Witness. Protection. Program."
I dubiously stare back at his lamebrain theory. "Oh... So he's a reformed mobster? He is from Chicago. Maybe he's Al Capone's great grandson," I scoffingly retort.
But Mike apparently has not studied the art of sarcasm like me. He readily agrees with my mocking comment. "You might be right," he nods. "Maybe the whole family's in the mob. That's why they never talk to anyone. I mean, why would a doctor like him want to move to a tiny town like this? There's got to be something to it. I don't trust them."
"Your family moved here voluntarily. Does that mean that I shouldn't trust you too?"
"This is different," he quickly defends. "We don't keep to ourselves like the Cullens, Bella. They all stick together like they're apart of some freaky cult. They barely talk to anyone else. They're rarely seen in town other than at school or the hospital. It's weird."
"Edward talks," I say, avoiding mentioning that Alice spoke to me several times. "He spoke a lot to me during class, actually. He seems nice enough."
"Seems nice," he stresses. "He may say 'hello' and open up doors for his female teachers, but he doesn't do much more than that. He never does anything with us. He gets asked all the time if he wants to hang out and he always says 'no thank you'. Always. What type of guy rejects everyone and everything offered to him?"
One that's depressed, maybe...
I shake my head and defend my judgement of him. "You might think that there's something wrong with him, but not everyone here thinks that way. Jessica seems to think Edward's nice and nonthreatening. She talks as though they're friends all the time."
"Yeah," Mike snorts as we enter the gym. "She thinks his car and clothes are nice. Having plenty of cold, hard cash in your pocket will attract some girls."
I glance up at him and come to the conclusion that Mike might be a little jealous.
At the end of the day, I rush to the parking lot to fetch my truck. A few rows away, I see Edward getting into the driver's side of a new shiny, silver car. The rest of his family hops inside soon afterwards- except for Alice.
She's standing beside the passenger door with her body angled my way. Once she sees that I've noticed her, she covertly winks at me before she slides into the car.
Strange family.
Nice...but strange.
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A/N- I know it's taken forever for me to put up this chapter. Sorry for that. But, I promise that once my other story is complete (which it hopefully will be pretty soon), I can then devote more time to this one.
Next Chapter- A very icy, dangerous parking lot on a wintry morning...
Thanks for reading! :-)