3. PHENOMENON

When I opened my eyes in the morning, something felt different. As though sensing things to come, I realized it was the light. It was still the hazy green light of the forest, but sharper. There was no fog clinging to my window. It became obvious immediately that it had snowed overnight. There was a fine layer of snow covering the world; the yard, my truck, and the road. But worse than that, the rain from the day before had clearly frozen solid. The pine needles looked deadly, coated in ice. Just looking at the driveway brought, unbidden to my mind, a dozen memories of times I'd fallen even when the ground was dry. I viewed the driveway with the trepidation a new mountaineer might direct toward Everest. Something I could only dream of conquering.

My father had left for work already when I arrived downstairs. I didn't see Dad as much as I'd expected. I'd never realized his work hours were so long, but I found that some days it gave me a sense of peace. Charlie wanted to be "Daddy" again, which meant he usually inquired about my day, my friends, and that sort of thing. But we were still largely strangers, and it was difficult for us both trying to maintain the new parts of our relationship.

I inhaled a bowl of cereal and a quick glass of orange juice. I couldn't stop thinking about Edward Cullen. What was going on between us? I hadn't ever had many crushes, so I wasn't certain if the fluttery feeling of attraction was supposed to be tainted with anxiety. I wasn't afraid of making a fool of myself around him, I was afraid of him turning back into the threatening creature he'd seemed like when we first met. Even so, I found myself thinking increasingly about the next time I'd be seeing him.

He was beautiful, and I couldn't deny the chemistry I'd felt when we'd touched. But even if we were in the same league, which we clearly weren't, I was suspicious of him. I hadn't forgotten the fear I'd felt at his hostility, and even when he'd been friendly he had acted strangely. And he'd lied about his eye color, though I didn't know why.

I picked my way down the driveway, nearly slipping to my death when I finally reached the truck. I barely saved myself from cracking my head open by grabbing the side mirror and clinging to it for dear life. It wasn't the best way to start my day.

As I drove to school, I found myself thinking about my new place in Forks. People here seemed to respond differently to me than they had in Phoenix. Especially the boys. I was sure I looked the same as I had in Phoenix, but maybe there was something else. Maybe it was because the boys here had missed the more awkward phases I went through in Phoenix. Maybe it was because I was a novelty, a fresh face and unknown perspective in a town that had few surprises. Or maybe it was simply that the community here was smaller, there were fewer leaders among them, and some of the popular students had taken a liking to me which made people more inclusive toward me.

Whatever the reason, though, I'd never known how to handle unwanted advances. Roy's crush on me in Phoenix had been sweet, and I'd liked him well enough. But just like Eric, who reminded me of Roy, I didn't feel attracted to him. I didn't connect with him. And Mike was a totally different animal, I wasn't even sure whether he was just flirting for the fun of it or if he was serious. I still felt that Mike had more serious feelings for Jessica than for me, but she was starting to seem jealous of the attention he showed me. I didn't want to hurt either of the boy's feelings, and I didn't want to jeopardize my friendship with Jessica because of Mike.

Things would have been simpler if the population of Forks had just ignored me, like I'd expected. I hadn't prepared myself for this possibility.

I drove slowly. Though I'd seen that morning that my dad had put chains on my tires for me, I was nervous of the ice. I didn't feel it slipping at all, but I thought it was better not to risk going too fast. I was just as careful as I lowered myself from the truck onto the slick parking lot.

When I looked at the chains on the tires again, my throat suddenly felt tight. I hadn't asked my dad to put them on, and he hadn't even mentioned to me that he was going to do it. He'd just seen the ice and thought I'd need them. It was strange to realize that I was being taken care of. When I was with my mom, I'd always felt like I was taking care of her. It was an amazing relief to know that someone was looking after me here. I took a deep breath, trying not to let the tears fall.

"Bella?"

I looked up from the tires, trying to keep my feelings hidden. Edward Cullen had parked next to me. I guess he'd seen the look on my face, because he seemed concerned. "Are you alri – " He was cut off by a high-pitched screech. We both looked toward the sound.

Several things became apparent to me instantaneously. Edward was standing a few feet to my side, looking in shock across the pavement. People around the lot were staring in the same mask of horror as the dark blue van skidded wildly over the ice, tires locked and squealing against the brakes. It was heading directly toward Edward.

It wasn't like in the movies, where everything slows down and the hero can make the right decision. It all happened in a few seconds, but the adrenaline that surged through me made me move faster than I thought possible. I threw myself toward Edward, grabbing hold of his arm and yanking with all my strength.

He was unmovable. I knew as soon as I felt the resistance against my grasp that I wasn't going to be able to pull him out of the way. It was too late. We would both be crushed.

I suddenly felt as if I'd been hit, and I tasted blood in my mouth. The overwhelming vibration and the grating sound of metal striking metal made it impossible for me to get my bearings for a long minute. But my world came into utter clarity when I was finally able to process what I was looking at.

Edward Cullen was in front of me, his arms surrounding me like a shield, my shoulders against the front of his Volvo. My eyes widened. The metal frame of the van seemed molded around Edward's body like tinfoil. For a split second I was certain he was dead. No one could survive a collision like that.

But then he moved. His eyes, wider than I had ever seen them, held mine for a long moment, and I realized that he wasn't injured. He didn't seem to have a scratch on him. His breath was coming in short, heavy bursts. He reached behind himself and pulled the frame back into place with a clang. Then he slid down into the open space that had tented between the two vehicles and crawled out into the open, his boots scraping against the ice. I watched him go, but didn't follow until he stuck his face back in and extended a long hand toward me. I took it and found myself pulled from beneath the car. As I emerged, a small smattering of relieved applause reached my ringing ears.

I felt warm blood dripping down my head, and my hands were scraped raw from the icy asphalt.

"Bella, are you alright?" Edward's voice was low, but thrumming with an urgency that I didn't understand.

"I'm fine." I said, my voice sounding very far away. My skull began to throb above my left ear. "Ow," I said, my hand rising to the injured place automatically.

"That's what I thought!" He gave a breathy, relieved laugh.

"How in the…" I trailed off, trying to understand what had happened. "How did you…"

"It was just luck." He said, partly to me and partly to the frightened crowd that was drawing in around us. "They just hit in the right way, I guess. They pushed each other up. I'd be dead if you hadn't knocked me to the ground." His tone had turned serious.

I leaned against the car. That wasn't what had happened. I saw it with my own eyes. I felt disoriented, looking at his face. What had I just been asking him?

Then they found us, a cluster of faces. Some of them had tears streaming down their cheeks, others simply looked pale and shaken. They were shouting at others in the crowd around us, shouting at us.

"Don't move!" Someone said to Edward and me. As if I could walk anywhere at the moment.

"Get Tyler out of the van!" Someone else shouted.

"You're not supposed to move an injured person!" Another voice shouted back. There was a flurry of activity as adult voices, voices of authority, began to give orders to the students. People started moving away from us. The nurse asked us if we were injured and checked our eyes with a flashlight before she went inside to call an ambulance, leaving the two of us alone, watching the action around the blue van.

"We should just stay put for now." Edward said, almost as though he were talking to himself.

"It's cold." I complained. He gave a huff of amusement, though I didn't know what was funny. I didn't notice he had moved until I felt him drape a blanket over my shoulders, apparently from the back seat of his car. I gave him a grateful look and hugged it around myself. It smelled clean and sweet.

"I didn't knock you down." I suddenly remembered. "The car smashed right into you. You protected me."

"No, I didn't." He said.

"I saw it. The metal, it just… bent around you."

"You have it wrong," Edward said abruptly, sounding upset. His emotions seemed to change the cadence of his speech, as if he'd forgotten an affected mannerism in the heat of the moment. "You pulled me over, and you knocked your head. You're just confused."

"I am confused, but I know what I saw."

His eyes seemed to blaze gold. "Bella, please." It was a request, I knew. He wanted me to cover for him. He was more of an outsider than I'd even considered. This was something real, something that defied the laws of nature. "Please. Trust me."

"I do." I said. How could I not, after what had just happened? "Promise you'll explain it to me, later. After." I added.

He tensed his jaw for a painfully long moment. "Fine." He finally said.

"Fine." I repeated, though I couldn't muster the energy for anger.

It took six EMTs and two teachers to shift the van far enough away from us to bring the stretchers in. Edward tried to refuse his, but they wouldn't take no for an answer. He'd immediately alerted them to my head injury, of course, so I couldn't help but feel he deserved being forced to ride on a stretcher, too. He looked mortified and stared sullenly at the responders as they'd wheeled us into the truck.

His lot was nothing compared to mine, though. I had to suffer through them putting a neck brace on me, as the entire school seemed to gather around to watch. To make matters worse, my father arrived before the ambulance left.

"Bella?" He asked, the distress blooming on his face as he recognized me on the stretcher. I could already see the thoughts running through his head, finding some way to blame himself for this accident.

"I'm completely fine, Dad." I said firmly, though I still felt disoriented, something didn't feel quite right. "There's nothing wrong. They just want to check."

"You're in good hands, honey, don't worry." He said, though we both knew that he was the one worrying. "You just do what they say to do and they'll fix you right up, right as rain, before you know it."

He turned to talk to the EMT to find out what their assessment was, and I tried to make sense of the jumbled images in my head. When they'd lifted me away from the car, I'd seen the denting pattern in the metal. Although I was certain Edward had pulled the dent out of the car, there was still a strange buckling in the surface of the metal, where I remembered it shaping itself around the contours of Edward's shoulder.

And then there was the way his siblings had checked up on him as he lay, seething, on the stretcher. They hadn't seemed at all concerned about Edward's safety, approaching him as though he'd done nothing more than twisted his ankle on the curb. They were so close that they usually wouldn't even talk to people outside their family, but they didn't show the slightest concern when their brother was nearly killed by a van?

I tried to connect these with the way Edward had almost pleaded that I use the story he gave. By saying he'd explain things, he'd confirmed that there was something different about him. Probably about his whole family. They had a secret, and I wanted to know what it was. What explanation could there be about what I'd seen him do?

Maybe I was just going insane.

The ambulance got a police escort to the hospital, which made the situation even more unpleasant. A throbbing head injury doesn't go well with even one blaring siren, much less two. I was beginning to feel it would be worth it just to give up on civilized life and maul the paramedics to escape, feeling embarrassed on top of ill as they unloaded me from the ambulance. The only thing that made it bearable was seeing Edward sitting up stubbornly as they pushed him through on his own stretcher.

They put me in the emergency room, a long room with a line of beds separated by pastel-patterned curtains. A nurse put a pressure cuff on my arm and a thermometer in my ear. As the nurse left, she pulled the curtain forward to give me some privacy. I used the moment to unfasten the uncomfortable neck brace and toss it to the floor.

There was a flurry of hospital personnel as they wheeled another stretcher in, and I saw from a glance that it was Tyler Crowley from my Government class. They moved him to the bed next to me, behind the curtain. I could hear them moving around and talking to one another in urgent, professional voices.

When the room went quiet and I was sure no one was near Tyler, I stood from my bed. I was rather wobbly and my head pounded, but I pulled the curtain back to see my classmate. I was wrong in thinking he was alone, there was still a nurse there. But she only cast a wary look my way, she didn't pull the curtain closed or ask me to get back in bed.

Tyler had bloodstained bandages wrapped tightly around his head, and his face was already swelling from the bruises. An IV hung from his arm. As I looked at him, stunned, his eyes opened. They were a clear, earthy green. I'd never noticed before. His gaze drifted toward me.

"Hey, new girl." He said drowsily. "Didn't mean to crush you with my car."

"I'm fine, Tyler. And I know it was an accident."

He reached a sluggish hand toward the bandage on his head and yanked feebly at it. He had always struck me as a strong, active-looking person and it was strange to see him so weak. I could see a myriad of shallow slices all over his forehead and left cheek. The nurse noticed him fumbling at his bandages just in time and stopped him. She recorded something on a clipboard and left. As soon as she was gone, Tyler's hand returned to the bandage.

"You'd better leave that alone, Tyler." I said. I reached out and gently touched his hand until he stopped tugging at the wrap.

"Thought I was gonna kill you." Tyler murmured. I felt horrible. It was alarming to see the state he was in, when I had come out in one piece.

"Don't worry, you missed me." I said.

"New girl…" he said again. He looked at me as though searching for something, and I realized he had forgotten my name. Of course. We'd never spoken, and I'd only been at school for a short while. I should have introduced myself to him.

"Bella." I said.

"Bella." He repeated. "Bella. There was someone else..? Did I hit him? Did I hurt Cullen?"

Tyler's disoriented speech unsettled me, and I folded my arms in front of my chest. I'd never seen someone so out-of-it.

"No, you didn't hurt him. He's alright. He's in better shape than I am, really. He's probably around here somewhere, but he didn't have a scratch on him."

Tyler sighed, and seemed to drift off. I walked backward to get back into my bed, but my eyes remained on him until the hospital workers returned. I was wheeled away to have my head x-rayed. They found I had a mild concussion, but told me it would be easily treated. They wouldn't release me yet, however, so I waited in the ER next to Tyler.

I felt trapped there, disturbed and dismayed at Tyler's condition. He couldn't seem to string more than a few words together at a time. He was a tall, broad boy but somehow the looming, industrial feel of the hospital made him seem very small and vulnerable. When they wheeled him away to give him a hospital bed in a room, I first felt relief and then guilt for feeling relieved. I knew it was far worse for him in that ER than it was for me. It seemed somehow wrong to feel relieved that he'd moved to a room, as though I were blaming him for making me uncomfortable.

Consumed with thoughts against myself, I reclined in bed and slid my arm over my face to cover my eyes. If I'd managed to sleep, or at least relax, it might have been a more tolerable experience. But I wasn't able to do it, and couldn't push the images of Tyler sleeping in his bandages from my mind. I stayed in that position for quite a while before I was interrupted.

"Is she sleeping?" I heard someone ask. Someone with a melodic way of speaking, someone I recognized. My arm dropped and my eyes flew open.

Edward Cullen.

He stood at the foot of my bed, a stony look on his face. I got the feeling he was trying to appear indifferent, though there was an edge of dark anxiety to it. The nurse he'd questioned walked away to let us talk.

"I heard they moved Tyler to a room of his own." Edward said.

"He was in really bad shape." I responded.

Edward was silent for a long moment. "Everyone's pretty confused right now. The shell of the car is barely damaged but the internal mechanics were pushed over a foot inward. I heard they had to use the jaws of life to get Tyler out, since the dashboard was thrust against him."

"So the inside of the car crushed him, and they can't figure out why the outside doesn't show the impact." I said. I had seen Edward snap the dent out of the frame of the car, which would have shown the outline of his shoulders if it had been left.

"And there wasn't any damage to my car, either." He said. He shook his head, his expression getting even darker. His tone quickly shifted to disgust. "Except a broken taillight. They can't figure out why that is."

I didn't know what to say. He was as good as admitting what had happened, but he was still being cryptic about it, acting as though it were news to him. Even though he failed to come out and speak plainly with me, though, he somehow made his feelings clear. He was disgusted with himself. He blamed himself for Tyler's injuries.

"Why would that be?" I asked, feebly hoping he would just tell me what was going on.

"I don't know." He said, his tone stubborn. His eyes, though, seemed almost pleading. He wanted to tell me what was happening, but he couldn't.

"Has anything like that happened to you before?" I asked.

"A few times, actually. But those are stories for another day."

It was as though he thought someone was listening in, even though we were alone together. I was about to point this out to him when a stranger walked into the room. It was a doctor, though I was shocked at his appearance. He was young – mid-twenties at most – and incredibly handsome. He had blonde hair that fell in front of his forehead, waving slightly at the tips, and carefully trimmed sideburns. He was quite short, probably only an inch taller than me, but his movements were strong and self-assured. Most striking was his skin; he was unusually pale, and his skin was the exact same tone as Edward's. He also shared the dark circles beneath his eyes. I knew without asking that this was Edward's father, Dr. Cullen.

"Miss Swan." He said, his voice like honey. He had an English accent. "I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen. I'm sorry it took me so long to get here – there was another doctor assigned to you, but your father insisted I check you personally. And since my son, Edward, was involved in the accident, it seemed appropriate." He gave me a reassuring smile, but something about it seemed rehearsed.

"So, Isabella. How are you feeling?" He asked.

"I go by Bella." I said. Carlisle gave off such a different vibe than Edward. He was overtly reassuring in manner but also seemed oddly self-aware. It was as though he thought behaving kindly somehow proved that he and his family were stable and compassionate.

"My apologies, Bella."

"I feel fine." I said.

"Well, I've checked your x-rays. You have a minor concussion, but if you follow our instructions for the next couple of weeks it should cause you no trouble. Does your head hurt too badly? Depending on your discomfort we may be able to prescribe some painkillers."

I shrugged. He put his cool fingers against my head, touching lightly against my skull. He noticed when I winced. "Tender?" He asked.

"Just a little, but it's nothing. I don't need drugs. I've bumped my head before."

I heard a chuckle and looked over to see Edward, giving me a vaguely patronizing smile. My eyes narrowed.

"Bella, I feel comfortable releasing you today. Your father is in the waiting room, I'll have him come in to see you. I'd like you to go home with him and rest. I mean it, too. Watch television on the sofa. You'll need to take it easy for at least a few days, and if you experience any dizziness or vision problems, come and see me again."

"Can't I go back to school?" I said. I knew my father would insist on taking care of me if I went home, which meant he'd be taking off work. I knew how frustrated he felt just spending more than a few hours indoors; I couldn't imagine how it would be for him to have to watch me for a whole day, or more.

"Sorry, Bella. I can't personally stop you from going, but I've informed the school of my position and I don't think they'll let you attend today or tomorrow. It's a liability issue."

I looked at Edward. "Does he get to go to school?" I asked. I made an effort to sound bratty with it, though in reality I was mostly concerned that if he went back to school, he'd think up some excuse to prevent having to explain what had happened today. I needed to keep him here to find out the truth.

"Someone has to spread the good news that we survived. And people will want to know about Tyler." Edward said.

"Actually, most of the school seems to be in the waiting room." Dr. Cullen said.

Edward paused. "The principal let the whole school come visit us?" He asked.

Dr. Cullen smiled at his son. "I'm guessing the students didn't ask to be let off, Edward."

Edward looked simultaneously touched and impatient. He didn't expect people to be there to support us, but he also wouldn't have the excuse he wanted to go back to school.

"Oh no," I moaned, covering my face with my hands. The last thing I wanted was to have to walk past the whole school after all this, having to feel their eyes on me and answer their questions.

"Would you rather stay?" Dr. Cullen asked, his eyebrows arched.

"No!" I insisted. I pushed myself from the bed as if to prove my strength, but I staggered. My head throbbed as Dr. Cullen caught and steadied me. He looked concerned.

"I just didn't realize how high the drop was," I said. He seemed to understand that my balance problems were a pre-existing condition, but kept his hand at my elbow.

"If you change your mind about the painkillers, just send your dad here and I'll take care of that for you. Otherwise, stick to Tylenol. I've given your dad instructions about what you can and can't take." He said.

"Don't worry. I'm fine, really." I said.

"It sounds like you were extremely lucky." Dr. Cullen smiled.

"Lucky Edward was standing next to me," I said as he signed my chart. He suddenly seemed very engaged with the paperwork, glancing to his son before nodding and stalking away and through the hallway. My intuition flickered. The doctor was in on it.

As soon as he was gone, I turned my gaze to Edward. He seemed unusually preoccupied with the hem of his jacket sleeve, but I wasn't fooled.

"So?" I said.

"Your father is waiting for you." Edward answered without hesitation.

"I want to know something first." I said.

He turned and stared at me, his eyebrows drawn together and his mouth set in a firm line. "What do you want?" He asked. His eyes were cold.

I felt intimidated by his surliness, but I couldn't allow myself to be deterred. "You owe me an explanation." I said stubbornly.

"I don't owe you anything." He said.

I set my jaw, upset but not surprised at his sudden reluctance to share with me. "You promised." I said.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe you imagined it." He said. His feigned ignorance cut at me. My temper flared.

"I didn't imagine anything, and you know it. You remember just as well as I do. You promised you'd explain. You practically begged you to use your story."

He seemed angered by my tone, and paced a few feet to the right. "What do you want from me, Bella?" He asked.

"I want to know the truth about what happened!" I said. "I want to know why I'm lying for you!"

He turned away from me, pacing again, but not leaving my area. He pushed a frustrated hand through his hair, his face torn. I could see that he didn't know what to do. This was a secret, I knew that much when I'd first covered for him, but he'd promised. He couldn't save me and then expect me just to go on, never questioning what had happened.

"You were holding it up, Edward. I saw you."

Edward's gaze shifted toward me. His body language changed, he folded his arms and leaned backward, looking at me with an air of skepticism.

"You think I lifted a van off you?" His projection was perfect, but I knew not to trust it. It sounded like a perfectly delivered line by a talented actor. I said nothing. "No one will believe that, Bella." He said.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone." I said.

"Then why ask at all?" He responded. "It doesn't even matter."

"It matters to me." I said. "That should be enough reason."

"Can't you just thank me and be done with it?" He asked desperately.

"I can thank you if you want. Thank you." I said. "Now tell me what happened."

"You're not going to let it go, are you?" He asked.

"No." I said.

Edward looked at me for another long moment, before giving me an unreadable look. "In that case… I hope you enjoy disappointment." He said.

I stared at him in silence. I wanted to be angry, to demand an answer, to grab him by the arm and keep him from leaving without telling me what I wanted to know. But something in his expression was so unhappy that I couldn't bring myself to say anything.

"If you won't tell me, then leave." I finally said.

He left.