2. OPEN BOOK

The next day was better.

It wasn't raining yet, though the clouds were dense and opaque. I knew what to expect today, I wouldn't have to introduce myself, and there were people now who wanted to talk to me. Mike came to sit by me in English, and joined Eric in walking me to my next class. It was flattering that both boys seemed interested in me. People didn't look at me quite as much as they had yesterday. I sat with a big group of people at lunch, and was beginning to remember their names and faces. I could feel myself becoming more comfortable by the minute, and even dared to feel hopeful.

It helped that I'd actually slept the night before. The sound of the wind echoing around the house had reminded me of the sound of traffic, so I'd had less trouble falling asleep. Of course, the day wasn't perfect. I got a Trig question wrong and in Gym, we played volleyball again, although this time I had to participate. But those things could have happened in my old school, too. It didn't feel quite so overwhelming now that I knew some people here.

But the real reason the next day was better was something else. Edward Cullen wasn't in school at all.

All morning I'd been dreading lunch, afraid to be on the receiving end of his glares again. Part of me wanted to confront him, but it was a part of myself that usually stayed hidden. I wanted to demand to know what his problem was, but I was scared of him. I knew myself too well to think I would really have the guts to talk to him that way.

When I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica and Angela, my eyes swept the place to find the group's table. His four siblings were sitting together at the same table, but he wasn't with them.

I tried to conceal my relief at seeing him absent, as Mike intercepted us and steered us to his table. Jessica seemed delighted by his attention, and her friends joined us. I envied their easy chatter, but wondered where Edward Cullen was. Had he skipped lunch? Was he avoiding me? Would he skip Biology too, or would he ignore me again?

He didn't show up for the rest of the lunch period, and with each passing minute I felt more relaxed. Maybe he'd stayed home. Maybe he'd even transferred schools. I didn't care what had happened to him, so long as I didn't have to wither under his gaze anymore.

I walked to Biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, he still hadn't showed. Mike walked faithfully by my side to class, which I appreciated. I was distracted and not very good company, I knew, but he seemed to actually care about whether I got to my class.

I held my breath at the door, but I saw that Edward Cullen wasn't there. I sighed in relief and took my seat. Mike followed, talking about an upcoming trip to the beach. He lingered by my desk until the bell rang, when he smiled at me with mock wistfulness and went to sit by his lab partner. I wondered for the second time if his over-the-top flirtations were genuine.

I enjoyed the class much more in Edward's absence. I told myself that repeatedly. But I couldn't get rid of the heavy feeling that he wasn't here because of me, and the idea that someone could hate me so instantly was very difficult to accept. It seemed so ridiculous that I could affect anyone that strongly. It was impossible. And yet I couldn't stop worrying that it was true.

After the day was over and I'd changed from my gym clothes back into my jeans and sweater, I hurried from the girls' locker room, pleased to find that my truck wasn't as far away as I'd thought it was. The lot was crowded now with fleeing students. I got in my truck and dug through my bag for the shopping list.

In the summers I'd spent with my dad, I'd discovered that he couldn't cook much besides fried eggs and bacon. It wasn't a big deal when we were only visiting together, but now that I was going to be living with him, I'd requested to be assigned kitchen detail. He was willing enough to hand over the keys to the banquet hall. I also found out that he had no food in the house aside from those few things, so I made a shopping list and took cash from the jar in the cabinet labeled 'FOOD MONEY', and I was about to drive to the Thriftway.

I gunned my deafening engine to life, ignoring the heads that turned at the sound, and pulled into the line of cars that were waiting to exit the lot. As I waited I saw the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their car. It was the one shiny Volvo I'd seen the day before. Of course.

I didn't know much about clothing, so I hadn't noticed anything unusual about their dress in school, especially since it looked no more expensive than the clothing my classmates in Phoenix often wore. But it was obvious to me now that, compared to the others in this town, they were exceptionally dressed. It seemed excessive for them to have both good looks and money. Unfortunately, as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. At least it was obvious that the Cullens themselves were the only ones in town who felt their behavior was justified by their wealth.

I realized, however, that no matter the amount of wealth, Edward's actions toward me wouldn't be acceptable to anyone in their right mind. Their isolation – or his, at least – had to be something he desired. I couldn't imagine anyone thinking they were the ones being persecuted after behaving that way.

I ran my errands, welcoming the distraction they provided from the unpleasant preoccupation I was developing with the Cullen family. When I got home, I put the groceries away and set about making dinner. I put potatoes in the oven to bake and covered a steak in marinade to soak in the fridge.

I changed into pajamas and pulled up my email. There were already three messages from my mother.

Bella,

Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how

your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you alr-

eady. I'm almost finished packing for Flori-

da, but I can't find my pink blouse. Do you

know where I put it? Phil says hi. Mom.

I sighed and went to the next. It was sent eight hours after the first.

Bella,

Why haven't you e-mailed me yet? What are you

waiting for? Mom.

The last was from this morning.

Isabella,

If I haven't heard from you by 5:30 p.m. to-

day I'm calling Charlie. Mom.

I checked the clock. I still had an hour, but my mom was known for jumping the gun.

Mom,

Calm down, I'm writing right now. You don't

have to worry so much, I've just been busy.

Bella.

I sent that first, before starting a real letter.

Mom,

Everything here's great. Of course it's raining,

we both knew it would be! I was waiting for something

worth writing about. School isn't bad, there are some

nice kids who let me sit with them at lunch. Almost ev-

eryone here has been really nice to me. I think I'll be

able to settle in here.

Your blouse is at the dry-cleaners, you were

supposed to pick it up on Friday! Tsk tsk.

Dad got me a truck – can you believe that! I

love it. It's old but sturdy, which is good. Especially

for me!

I miss you, too. I'll write again soon, but you

know how I am with computers. Especially a computer

like this one, that went out with the ark. Give me at

least a day between emails before you panic!

I love you.

Bella.

After the email, I turned to my homework. I started skimming through Wuthering Heights – the novel we were studying in English – because I'd already read the book for another class. I was quickly pulled into the story, however, as it provided a good escape from thoughts of school. I was still reading when Charlie came home, having lost track of time. Embarrassed, I hurried downstairs to pull the potatoes from the oven and set the steak in to broil.

"Bella?" Dad called out as he heard me on the stairs.

"Hey, Dad. Welcome home."

"Thanks." He hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I bustled through the kitchen. As far as I was aware, he'd never had to shoot the gun on the job. He kept it ready, though. When I was little he used to take out the bullets as soon as he walked in the door. It wasn't until he taught me to shoot at age thirteen that he considered me old enough to respect the weapon.

"What's for dinner?" he asked. He gave the oven a wary look. My mother was a very imaginative cook, but her creations weren't always edible, and I knew he was wondering if I had inherited that particular personality quirk. It made me feel slightly sad that he still remembered my mother's cooking, after so many years apart.

"Steak and potatoes." I answered, and he looked pleased.

Apparently feeling awkward standing in the kitchen doing nothing, he lumbered into the living room to watch TV. We were both more comfortable that way. I made a salad while the steaks cooked, and set the table.

"Smells good, Bells." He said when I called him in for dinner.

"Thanks."

We ate in silence for a few minutes. Unlike how silences normally felt, it wasn't uncomfortable. We were used to being quiet together, since we both had trouble sharing. In some ways, we were probably well suited for living together.

"How did you like school? Have you made any friends?" He asked as he served himself seconds.

"I have a few classes with a girl named Jessica, and I've been sitting with her at lunch. And a girl named Angela, she's been helping me remember everyone's names. And there's this boy, Mike, who's been really friendly to me. Almost everyone seems pretty nice." With one exception.

"That must be Mike Newton. Nice kid. His dad owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. They make a good living off the backpackers who come through here."

It made sense that my Dad knew most of the town – everyone was living on top of everyone else here – but for some reason it hadn't occurred to me to ask him about them.

"Do you know the Cullen family?" I asked.

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure. He's a good man."

"Their kids seem a little… different. They don't fit in at school."

Charlie surprised me with an irritated, dismissive look.

"People in this town. Dr. Cullen is a talented doctor, we're lucky to have him. Accident fatalities have gone down twenty percent since he started working here. We're lucky his wife wanted to live in a small town, he could be working at much larger hospitals. He's an asset to the community."

I frowned, looking at my dad. "People don't like the family?" I said. It didn't surprise me that they didn't like the kids, with the way they behaved, but the parents sounded like they had been very kind and generous. I'd assumed that people would view them differently.

"Well, we all had our doubts at first. I mean, these young adults moving here with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have some problems with them. But they're all very mature – they never get into trouble. Just because they seem to have some social issues is no reason to punish the parents. Those children were adopted as teenagers, who knows where they came from?" He shook his head. I didn't realize until later that his story was different from what Jessica had said, which was that they'd been adopted when they were seven.

"I haven't had one speck of trouble with those teenagers, which is more than I can say for some of the kids in town. But just because they seem troubled, and stick to themselves, people have to talk. Everyone wants to suggest that they're on drugs or in crime when there's no evidence to it at all, it's just how people punish the family for not being traditional."

It was the longest speech I'd ever heard my Dad make. He clearly felt strongly about whatever people were saying, but I wondered if some of the things people said might not be true. Edward's behavior had been so inappropriate, and he was so pale. He could have been on drugs.

"Most of them seem nice enough, I guess. They keep to themselves." I said. "But one of them made me feel very uncomfortable in class the other day."

"What did he do?" My dad was suddenly concerned, and for some reason I wanted to downplay what had happened. I didn't need him getting involved in my social life, which was bound to kill any potential friendships I could end up making.

"Oh – it was nothing, really. I guess. He just ignored me the whole class hour, even though we were sitting at the table together."

"You were doing a lab?"

"No," I hesitated. "It was a lecture."

"Maybe he was just concentrating on the class."

I didn't know how to explain what had happened. It was true that the class was a lecture, and we hadn't had any reason to talk to each other. I didn't know how to help my dad understand what had bothered me so much, and I worried that he would go to the Cullen family and confront them, so I left the topic at that.

"I know why you were upset by it," Dad said suddenly, grinning.

"What?"

"Don't worry, Bells, I'm sure he was just focused on class. Don't think he doesn't like you because of that. When you talk, he'll get to see what a lovely girl you are." He said.

"Dad, that's not – "

"You should see the doctor," Dad said, laughing. "It's a good thing he's married. A lot of the women at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work when he's around."

I gave my dad a vague smile and we lapsed into silence again as we finished eating. I cleared the table as he started on the dishes. I went upstairs to do my math homework, and as I settled in at my desk I could hear the television switching on downstairs. Tradition in the making.

The next few days at school went as uneventfully as the day before. By the end of the week, I was starting to find my place. Friday, between English and Spanish, Eric caught me by the arm.

"Hey, I was wondering if you might want to hang out this weekend." Eric said.

I was surprised. Eric was nice, and fairly cute in my opinion, but I had started to think he was a little goofy. I had sensed that he was attracted to me; the way he acted reminded me of my friend Roy from home. Still, I didn't think he'd actually ask me out. I tried to think of an easy way to decline without wounding Eric's pride.

"Oh. Do you mean just the two of us, or as a group?" I asked.

Eric seemed to immediately lose his nerve, and I felt a pang of guilt. "Oh, you know, whatever. It would be cool to do a group thing." He said.

At that moment Mike walked up, smiling confidently.

"Oh, hey, Eric. Don't get any funny ideas, man, trying to steal my girl away from me." He said, humor heavy in his voice. I felt relieved at the rescue from Eric's date invitation, though Eric seemed annoyed at Mike's show of staking a claim. By now, I was sure Mike wasn't being serious, but it occurred to me that Eric might think there was a seed of truthfulness in Mike's comments. I found myself wondering again.

"Don't you worry, Mike." Eric said flatly. "We were just talking."

"I got my eye on you, man!" Mike grinned, slapping Eric on the shoulder as he walked away. There was an awkward pause as Mike left, before Eric and I turned and continued walking to class.

"He's a funny guy." Eric said as he walked me to Spanish. I could tell he was trying hard to be a good sport, even though he seemed to feel Mike had ruined the moment.

Eric didn't bring up the idea again, and at lunch I discovered that Mike had already been planning a group trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks. I could tell Eric was embarrassed about his earlier proposal, because he joined in the conversation about La Push as if he hadn't suggested anything to me. He asked if I'd be going to the beach with them, and the others encouraged me to come along. I agreed I'd go.

The weekend rolled through without consequence. My dad spent most of his time working over the weekend, I think in part because he wasn't used to the house having someone in it. I'd talked briefly with Angela when we ran into each other at the library on Saturday, but the rest of the weekend I spent in my own company, reading. The library was so poorly stocked that I only found a few things I was even interested in reading. I would have to find a good bookstore soon; maybe I'd go to Seattle. I wondered what kind of gas mileage the truck would get, and for the hundredth time reminded myself that I needed to find a job.

The rain stayed soft over the weekend, but I was beginning to get used to the sounds of weather against the roof. I was able to sleep well.

I was feeling bright and fresh as I drove into the parking lot on Monday morning. To my delight, a few people greeted me in the parking lot. I'd forgotten a few names, but I waved and smiled at them. It was colder this morning than it had been since I arrived in Forks, but at least it wasn't raining. Mike sat next to me in English, as he had done the past few school days. We had a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights, and I was glad I'd re-read the book. All in all, I was feeling far happier than I'd thought I would, especially so soon after arriving.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting in excitement, the wind biting at our cheeks and noses.

"It's snowing!" Mike said. "It's because of me, you know. I made it snow just for you, Bella, with my superpowers." He stuck his tongue out to catch a snowflake.

"You'd have to be mean to do that!" I protested, though I wasn't really mad.

"What, you don't like a good romantic snowfall? You break my heart!"

I laughed. "I don't like snow, it means that the universe thinks rain isn't cold enough for us. Besides, it's coming down in big clumps!"

"That's how snow falls!" Mike said. "Haven't you seen snow fall before?"

"Of course I have!" I said. "In movies."

"Movies?" Mike laughed incredulously, diving toward the quickly deepening snow and tossing a handful in my direction. I threw my hands in front of myself and prepared to retaliate, but there wasn't time. A big, squishy ball of dripping snow smashed apart against the back of Mike's head, and he was off. I saw him go after Eric, hastily assembling a snowball of revenge. They laughed and hollered, apparently determined to be late for their next class.

"See you little boys at lunch, when you're done playing!" I called after them. Eric waved at me from the ground as Mike tried to shove snow down into his friend's jacket.

Everyone seemed excited about the snow, which was apparently the first fall of the year. Somehow I hadn't expected people to be so excited about something that happened here all the time, but it really brought the differences between Phoenix and Forks to my attention. The people I'd met here seemed much more grateful for what they had, and were determined to enjoy themselves regardless of whether their fun would result in wet socks.

I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica after Spanish. Although the teachers were trying to stop people from fighting too much with the snow, balls of mush were flying everywhere outside. I was fully prepared to use my belongings as a shield if I saw a snowball coming, though with my coordination I would probably end up hurting myself if I tried. Jessica had a lighter spirit about the snow fights than I did, but she shrieked when a snowball barely missed her head.

"Don't get my hair wet!" She shouted in the general direction it had come from.

Mike caught up with us as we walked in the doors, laughing. The ice had loosened the hold in his hair gel, and he had shoved it all to the center like a Mohawk. He and Jessica started talking animatedly about the snow as we got in line to buy food.

I didn't notice anything out of place, but I found my gaze drawn to the table in the corner, where he'd sat the first day. It was as if I knew, without even looking, that he was there.

Edward was at the table.

"Bella, what do you want?" Jessica prompted me, nudging me with her elbow. I looked back to her and the line, where people were waiting for me to order. I asked for a soda and a hot sandwich. I wasn't hungry, but I didn't want to waste everyone's time by just getting a drink. Maybe my appetite would come back.

As we sat at the table, I sipped at my soda quietly.

"Aren't you hungry?" Angela asked.

"Actually, I feel a little sick."

Although I didn't complain about it, my new friends asked me several times how I was feeling. I told them it was nothing, but I was seriously considering using it as an excuse to go stay in the nurse's office. I didn't want to go to my next class, didn't want to have to sit with him.

Ridiculous. I shouldn't have to run away.

I decided to allow myself one glance at their table. If he was watching me again, I'd go to the nurse's office instead of class.

They were laughing. All of them except for the tall blonde girl, Rosalie, had hair saturated with wet snow. Rosalie was recoiling from Emmett as he shook his wet curls toward her. They were enjoying the snowy day just like everyone else.

Although I'd seen them talking normally over the previous week, somehow this seemed different. They looked happier, and healthy – they looked like regular people. Something about them had changed.

I examined Edward as closely as I dared. He looked completely different from how he'd been that first day. He was animated, he looked less pale – flushed from the snow fight, maybe – and there was something about him that felt vibrant to me. I couldn't explain it.

"What are you looking at?" Jessica asked. The Cullen table was fairly difficult to see with so many excited kids in the cafeteria.

At the precise moment Jessica spoke, Edward's eyes flashed to me. There. There was the change. Something about his eyes was different. He didn't look harsh or unfriendly at all, and there was no trace of the panic I'd seen on his face in Biology. He looked curious, and something about his gaze felt soft and open, instead of cold and empty.

"Edward Cullen." Jessica said, finally pinpointing where I was looking. "He's staring at you." She sounded surprised.

"Does he look angry to you?"

"No." She said, her tone questioning. "Should he?"

"I don't think he likes me." I said. I was sure Mike would have told her about how Edward reacted to me, but perhaps Jessica and Mike weren't as close as I thought.

"The Cullens don't like anybody." She said. "They barely even notice anyone else. But he's still staring at you… maybe you have the magic touch." I smiled slightly, sure that wasn't the case. But the last time we'd talked about Edward, I'd been pointing out how good-looking the Cullens were. Jessica probably thought I had a crush on him, and was trying to make me feel better.

"Stop looking at him." I hissed, embarrassed.

She laughed, but looked away. I raised my head just enough to make sure she kept her eyes away from the Cullen table.

Mike interrupted us then. He was planning a snow battle of epic proportions in the parking lot after school, and he wanted us to join in. Jessica agreed enthusiastically. It was easy to see that Jessica would be up for anything that would let her spend more time with Mike. He didn't seem averse to her attention, either, which is probably why I'd thought they were close friends. I was starting to see that they were still just getting to know one another. I kept silent about the snow battle, though I wasn't sure I'd be up for a snow fight after another class with Edward Cullen. I'd have to wait and see what happened.

It proved to be a moot point, however, because as we left the lunchroom there was a collective groan. The rain had returned and was washing the snow away. I wasn't sure whether I was pleased that the snow was gone, since the rain didn't seem much better to me. Either way I'd be soaked by the end of the day.

Mike wasn't the sort to be sullen about it, though, and talked hopefully of snow to come in the next few months. I was sure the snow battle would happen in good time, just not today.

Once inside the classroom, I saw with relief that my table was still empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing microscopes and a box of slides to each table. Class wouldn't start for a few minutes, and the room had a warm lull of conversation. I doodled on the cover of the notebook, thinking that they must have found another Biology class for Edward Cullen to transfer to. It was fine by me.

I was wrong, though. I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, though I was afraid to lift my eyes from my doodling.

"Hello," said a quiet, melodic voice.

I looked up. He was speaking to me. He was still sitting quite far away from me, but his chair was angled to face my direction. His hair was still shining with snow, disheveled in an obnoxiously attractive way. His handsome face was friendly, open, with a slight smile on his rosy lips. His eyes were cautious.

"My name is Edward Cullen." He continued. "I didn't introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan."

My mind was spinning. Why was he acting so differently? Had I just been nervous that first day, and exaggerated how strange it had been? Had I worked myself up over nothing? But Mike had seen him, too, he'd said something about it that day. I couldn't convince myself that I wasn't wrong, though. Mike had also jokingly suggested that Eric was trying to steal me away from him. Maybe he'd been teasing me a bit and I just hadn't realized it at the time.

Edward was looking at me with perfect politeness, waiting for me to speak.

"How d'you know my name?" I stammered.

He gave me a look of amused surprise. "Everyone knows your name." He said. "The whole town was talking about your arrival."

I pulled a face. I thought he was exaggerating, of course, but that wasn't what I'd meant. "No, why'd you call me Bella?"

"I thought that's what you preferred." He said, looking puzzled.

"It is." I said. "It's just, everyone here seems to assume I go by 'Isabella'. I guess my Dad must call me that behind my back or something."

"Oh." He said. I wished I'd let it drop. I didn't know what was going on here, but now I couldn't help doubting my own reaction to our previous interaction. No one would act so hostile toward a stranger and then just pretend it had never happened. "I guess I must have heard someone else talking about you, then. I don't really know where I heard it."

Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root cells into the phases of mitosis they represented. We weren't allowed to use our books. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see how we were doing.

"Get started."

"Ladies first." Edward said. I looked up, unsure of how to take his crooked smile. It was as if he were a different person, suddenly as pleasant as he was handsome. I had the bizarre thought that this was the real Edward, but quickly shoved that impulse away. It felt wrong, trying to forget how he'd treated me before. It meant something.

"Or I could start, if you'd rather." His smile faded.

"No, sorry," I said, blushing. "I'll go first."

I'd already done this lab, and I knew what I was looking for. It was easy for me. I snapped the first slide into place, studying it briefly.

"Prophase." I said.

"Do you mind if I look?" he asked as I reached to remove the slide. He caught my hand in his, as he asked. His fingers were surprisingly cold, as if he had poor circulation. But that wasn't why I pulled away so quickly. The texture of his skin was strange – it felt so much smoother than skin usually did. There was a strange sensation to it, like a buzzing of foreign energy against my fingertips. There was also a spark of chemistry that I'd never experienced with a boy before.

"Sorry." He muttered, pulling his hand back from mine. I put the slide back in place so he could check for himself.

"Prophase." He agreed.

He replaced the slide with the next in line, glancing at it briefly.

"Anaphase." He said.

I lifted an eyebrow. "Do you mind if I look?" I repeated his earlier words.

He gave a sheepish smile and gestured toward the microscope, inviting me to use it. I looked through the microscope, confirming his answer.

Through the rest of the lab, I could tell he was being careful not to touch me again. Had he thought I didn't like it? Or did he feel that spark too? I wasn't even sure which answer I wanted. How could my feelings have changed?

We finished the lab long before anyone else was close. I could see Mike and his partner comparing two slides again and again, and another group had the book open under their table.

I didn't know what to talk about with Edward, because the reaction I'd had to him confused me. It would have been easier to ignore him if not for that feeling of electricity that passed between us. If I hadn't felt that, I could have just told myself he was unbalanced and dangerous. I could have settled on avoiding him. But I'd had such a thrilling physical response that I could only pick apart the memory of how he'd treated me last time, searching for flaws in my own perception.

I tried not to look at him, but it was hard. When I finally succumbed to the urge, he was openly watching me, the same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes.

Suddenly I knew what had made me think that Edward looked more vibrant today.

"Your eyes." I said. "Did you get contacts?"

He was clearly surprised by my question. "No." He said. His voice sounded puzzled, but I noticed him averting his gaze. I wasn't sure if I was just seeing things or not.

"I thought there was something different about your eyes. I remembered them looking differently, I guess." I said, uneasy.

He shrugged but said nothing.

Even though he acted like he didn't know what I was talking about, I was sure his eyes were a different color. I'd remembered his black eyes clearly, since they'd unsettled me so much. But today they looked completely different. They were a strange shade of brown, almost an amber color. Darker than butterscotch but with the same golden tone. I knew I hadn't misremembered things, I knew it. His eyes were a different color.

I decided he must be lying for some reason. I couldn't begin to know why he'd feel the need to lie. After all, I hadn't understood why he treated me so poorly before and then acted as though it had never even happened. He was just strange, maybe that was all there was to it.

I glanced down. His hands were clenched against his knees again.

Mr. Banner appeared behind us, looking over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, examining the answers we'd put down.

"Edward, didn't you think Isabella should get a chance with the microscope?"

"Bella." I corrected automatically, after which I realized that Edward had corrected the teacher in unison with me.

"She did three of the five, actually." Edward said, breezing past our unexpected moment of harmony.

Mr. Banner looked at me, curious. "Do we finally have some competition for Edward, then?" He asked, seeming pleased.

I gave a slight laugh. "Oh – I don't know. Actually, I've done this lab before. Just not with onion root."

"Whitefish blastula?"

I nodded.

"Were you in advanced placement in Phoenix?"

"Yeah." I said. "I guess I've already done a lot of the stuff we'll be studying, huh?"

"Probably." Mr. Banner admitted. "I'll try to keep it interesting for you, though. And I guess it's a good thing you two are lab partners, Miss Swan. You must have some special talent with people; it's nice to see Edward actually getting along with someone, for once."

I took a moment, surprised that the teacher seemed to have made a dig at Edward. As Mr. Banner walked away, I glanced over at the boy next to me. He had a perturbed expression on his face. Why had the teacher treated Edward that way, unprovoked? Was this what my dad had been talking about when he'd gone on his rant about the way the town treated the Cullens?

"Too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Edward asked. I wasn't certain why he was trying to make small talk with me. Suspicion swept over me again. Was he trying to make up for how unwelcoming he'd been before? Or had he noticed my reaction to Mr. Banner's comment, and was trying to distract me from it?

"Not really." I answered honestly.

"You don't like the cold." It wasn't a question. It was like he'd heard me talking to Mike about it.

"I don't like the rain, either."

"Forks must be like a wonderland to you," He said, looking mildly amused.

"Oh, it's paradise." I responded.

"Why did you move here?"

No one had asked me that yet. I guess I should have expected people to, but most people appeared to have made up their own minds about why I was moving back to Forks to live with my Dad. No one seemed to want to hear it from me.

"It's complicated."

"I think I can keep up." He said. His insistent tone surprised me. I met his gaze. The change in his eyes was still alarming, but mostly I was irritated with his persistence. Most people would realize from my response that I didn't want to talk about it. Most people would have let it go. He didn't. Defiant, I answered. If he wanted to hear my baggage, he would hear it.

"My mother got remarried."

"Not so complicated, then." He dismissed me with a single breath.

What did he know about complicated? He may have been adopted, but the life he lived now seemed decidedly easy. He had money and looks and an absurdly close family. He didn't know me, who was he to judge?

He seemed to suddenly notice my insulted expression. "You don't like him?" He said, softening his tone.

I blinked. "No. I like him a lot actually. Phil's a great person. Too young, maybe, but nicer than the others have been."

"Your mother marries a lot?" Edward asked.

"No!" I snapped. Was he speculating about my mother's integrity? "She dated before she got married. The other guys didn't last long because they weren't right for her. Phil is."

"So why didn't you stay?"

"Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living."

"Really? Anyone I'd know?" he asked.

I gave a skeptical smile. "Probably not. Partly because he plays minor league, but mostly because you don't seem like much of a sports lover. But he moves around a lot."

Edward seemed unsure of whether or not to be offended at my comment about him not being sporty, though I felt bad after saying it. I'd only been joking, but he hadn't picked up on it.

"Your mother sent you here so she could travel with him, then." He said. I found it aggravating that, rather than simply ask me about my life, he voiced his snap assumptions about me.

My chin lifted slightly in defiance. "No, she did not. I sent myself. She had been staying home with me, but she missed him so much. It made her unhappy. I decided to come and live with my dad, so that she could be with her husband."

Edward looked at me, his curiosity evident again. "And now you're unhappy."

I shrugged. "You say that like you think I was treated this way at my old school. I wasn't. It's hard to change everything at once, but believe me, being accepted here is better than being an outsider back there. Most of the people I knew back home weren't like Mike or Jessica. They were closer to how you acted last time."

He froze, staring hard at me. I wondered what he was thinking, if he was trying to decide whether to acknowledge how he'd behaved or to pretend it didn't happen, like he was now. I was beginning to find that I was able to surprise myself. I had a new start here, and people were treating me like a new person. They were treating me with respect and interest, treating me with kindness and friendliness. It made me feel stronger, and even in the short time between when we'd met and now, I discovered I could confront people when they had hurt me. I felt a new rush, a feeling of accomplishment.

"I like it better here." I said, after the long and awkward silence. "I just miss my mom. And the sunshine."

His gaze became appraising, and I detected a hint of annoyance from him. "You put on a good show." He said slowly. "But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

I said nothing. As far as I was concerned, this conversation was over.

"Am I wrong?"

I ignored him.

"I didn't think so." He said, though he sounded more ornery than smug.

"Why does it matter to you?" I asked, irritated. I turned to look at him, almost hoping he would give me the kind of glare he had last time.

"That's a very good question." He muttered, so quietly that I wondered if he was talking to himself. He didn't look at me again, and after a few moments, I decided that was the only answer I would get. I sighed.

"Am I annoying you?"

"'Annoying' doesn't describe what I'm feeling. There's no word for what I'm feeling. I don't understand what your angle is. And I have this crazy feeling you're just going to pretend like the last class we had together didn't happen."

Silence again. When I turned to look at him, he was staring at his hands with a troubled expression on his face.

"Just apologize." I demanded. "You can't be like that to someone and then pretend it didn't happen. It's not fair. It's confusing, it's cruel, and it makes you seem like a crazy person. So just tell me that you're sorry."

I could see his jaw working. After a moment, he wet his lips.

"I treated you badly." Edward said softly, and I could see how difficult it was for him. He continued to stare at his hands. "I was having some… personal problems that day. It was not your fault, but for… some reason… I directed my feelings toward you. You never did anything to me, you certainly didn't deserve it. I could tell that my behavior frightened you. I regretted it later. I took some time off from school to get myself in order. I am, I'm sorry."

"Thank you." I said. "I accept your apology."

"I sometimes have trouble addressing things directly. I don't know how to do it." He admitted, turning his eyes in my direction again. "I'm glad you don't have the same problem."

I found myself smiling a bit. "It's new territory for me, too." I said. "I never really got much attention at my old school. I guess it's helping me be a little more open. Not that I need to most of the time, my mother always tells me I'm an open book."

"On the contrary, I find you extraordinarily difficult to read."

He sounded like he meant it. I looked at him. "Well, you don't seem to like being around people very much. Maybe you just haven't had to learn."

His amber eyes turned toward me again, and something in them made me feel sorry for saying that. "I've always had to read people whether I wanted to or not." He said flatly.

I wasn't certain what that meant. His tone made me think it was something bad. Maybe he'd had to watch out for signs that he was about to be hit, or yelled at. He'd been adopted when he was younger, maybe he'd been in foster homes before that, or a group home of some kind. It might even explain why he'd been unable to apologize to me in a normal way.

"It's a natural gift, really." He continued, seeming uncomfortable with my thoughtful silence. "I've always been good at it. But you're different. I can't tell what you're feeling the way I can with most people."

"You haven't even spoken to me before today." I said, looking at him incredulously.

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Mr. Banner called the class to order. Edward seemed engrossed in me, and so different from how he'd behaved before.

I could see from the corner of my eye that he had shifted his weight away from me, and his arm was tensed against the table. Why did he knot up that way? When the bell rang, Edward was gone as quickly as he had been on my first day. I watched after him pensively.

Mike appeared at my side, picking up my books for me.

"Awful, awful class." He said. "Good thing Cullen was working with you, the teachers all think he's some genius. He always gets that stuff right."

"I didn't have any trouble with it, actually." I said. "I'm pretty good at science."

"Cullen seemed friendly enough today." He commented as we shrugged into our raincoats. Before I could wonder if he sounded displeased about it, he threw an arm over my shoulder and moved seamlessly into his schmoozing voice. "But don't worry, I know you only have eyes for me. He's too twitchy for a girl as classy as you."

I laughed in spite of myself and shoved him away from me.

"Why, Bella, why!" Mike called out in mock despair, stumbling after me as though he'd been shot through the heart. "I can change – I can practice silently staring at you for minutes on end! I know you love that in a man!"

By the time we arrived at the gym, I was feeling much better about the world. I had made my boundaries clear to Edward, and given him the opportunity to move past our first class together. He had stepped up to the plate and apologized even though he obviously felt uncomfortable talking about it. We had at least a little understanding between us, now.

The weight of worry over the first incident seemed to lift away from me and I felt cheerier than I had in weeks. I wasn't even bothered by the fact that Mike was forced to cover both our positions while playing badminton in P.E., something he did with good humor.

The rain was just a mist as I walked to the parking lot, but I was happier as soon as I got into the cozy cab of my truck. The heater roared to life and for once I didn't feel self-conscious about it. As I looked behind me before pulling out, I noticed the still white figure of Edward Cullen. He was leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from me. He was watching me intently. I caught his gaze for a moment before, looking away from him, I threw the truck in reverse. I wondered what he was thinking as I drove away. When I looked into the rearview mirror, I could swear I saw him smiling. It gave me an unexpectedly warm feeling, and I realized that in spite of everything, I sort of liked Edward.