As I was buttoning my blouse in front of the mirror in the bathroom, I traced the large silvery tree tattooed over the scar running down my sternum with my fingers. I took a deep breath, shutting my eyes tight, and I bent over the cold basin, gripping it for support.
Quickly dressing and dealing with the breakfast, I went to where I had laid the dead dragonfly and found she was gone; only a spider web, shining with drops of dew, was blowing on the stems of the cornflowers above where she used to lie. I picked one bloom and put it in the buttonhole of my coat, when I saw a doe at the edge of the forest. It seemed like she was the very same doe that I've seen on the first morning here – but this time, it wasn't just one brief glance she directed at the house. It was a long, intent look at me. Straight into my eyes. And I noticed one weird thing I haven't back then – she was all white.
And I felt... I don't know... it was very strange, like a misty tuft of a memory brushed against me. It seemed to me I smelled the scent of peach blossoms, so intense it must have been an orchard in full bloom. But when I tried to grasp at that mist, it evaporated.
In my wanders through the forest, I could have sworn several times I've caught a glimpse of her through the corner of my eye, as if she was following me – but whenever I've focused my eyes, there was only the shadow of a bush or a pile of old leaves whirling in the wind. Likewise now, when I blinked, she was gone – and I was left to wonder if I'd seen her at all staring at me, or if it was the side effect of the beta blockers.

xxx

Dad dropped me at the school parking lot.
"Alright, Little Red Riding Hood," he said, referring to my blood red coat, "careful about the wolves."
I grinned at him, swinging my bag over my shoulder. "Always am, dad."
He looked at me for a moment with a hint of sadness. "Weird," he muttered, "how you've grown."
"Yeah." I didn't know what else to say to that. I glanced back at the red-bricked school building and smiled at him. "Feels a bit weird not to be in a uniform and not to have my hair pulled back – and to see boys around. Strange there's no headmistress checking the length of girls' skirts at the entrance."
Dad arched his eyebrows in question. "Was that what your school was like back there?"
I laughed. "Yeah. Every day."
"I always saw you wearing pants on your school photos."
I shrugged, clutched the shoulder strap tight and tried to force down the lump in my throat. "Yeah. Much less hassle."
"Alright, good luck, Bells. Any problem – the speed dial, okay?"
"Okay, dad," I leant down to kiss him on his cheek, but he turned his head away. I clenched my eyelids and straightened up, shifting the bag on my shoulder and spinning around on my heel. "See you later."
As I was rushing towards the Office, I noticed a herd of expensive-looking cars lining up behind me. I recognized the Lamborghini Reventón with a feeling of unease; the other brands I didn't know, but they all looked to be luxury things, standing out strangely amongst the worn, second hand, small town repertoire that seemed to fill the lot otherwise. I sped up.
Couple of kids glanced my way, mildly curious or surprised to see a stranger, but then they went on with their own business, all in motion, laughing, chatting; likewise when several adolescents of the same poignant pallor as the boy from the ferry came out of the expensive cars, they rushed inside at once having a lively discussion - but the boy stood very still by his Reventón, leaning against it slightly, and watched me, face devoid of expression and eyes unreadable and cold... and fixed. I felt my heart in my throat and for some reason I remembered the white doe, the dread she must be feeling when chased by drunken hunters, the yearning and love that must be in her for the shelter of the forest, for the whisper in the leaves.
Throughout the day, I avoided empty classes and loitered on the corridor among people, avoided elevators, tried to inconspicuously join groups when walking from lesson to lesson. Few would speak to me, but it did not matter; all I asked for was the protection of a herd and for the boy to leave me alone as he passed by. But still I felt his eyes on me, at the nape of my neck, watching me ever, following me like my own shadow, even if - looking behind – I saw no one at all.

But that was to be later during the day and as of yet I was vanishing in the Office and then walking out of it. Even with a map the lady gave me there, the school was a bit of a maze and I found myself lost straight when looking for the first class. I stood amidst a corridor with students passing me by or shoving me out of the way, until I spotted across me a girl chatting and laughing with her friends. She had a pleasant enough face and something about her brown curls looked approachable, so I worked up my courage and went to her: "Hey, excuse me, could you show me where-"
She glared down at me, chewing a gum. "You got a map, so use it. Excuse me," she mimicked me sarcastically and went away with her pals, shaking her head and giggling with them.
I was baffled for a moment and then I raised my eyebrow and muttered: "How kind of you to be so helpful."
"Well, you're lucky she didn't tell you off worse," a serious, shy, pleasant voice said behind me and I turned to see a petite, lovely chestnut-haired girl, who was offering me a sad, friendly smile. "That's Jessica and her bunch. Better avoid them if you can, you could get hurt."
"Thank you for the heads up," I smiled at her with gratitude and she tilted her head with sudden interest.
"You English?"
I nodded.
"Okay – I guess... I guess you're new here, right? What class are you looking for?"
"Trigonometry. I'm... I'm Bella, by the way," I extended my hand to her in uncertainty and she shyly shook it.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Angela. Come, it's this way. You can sit with me if you want."
Angela, as it turned out, was sweet; we talked books a lot and she told me she loves Agatha Christie and the Brönte sisters, that her dad is the minister here and that we two could go hiking together if I like. And so, the Trigonometry, which was the only class we shared, ended all too soon; she walked me to History and waved at me as she joined a group of her friends, rushing away to her own class with: "See you, Bella! Hope you like it here!"
After the History class, I leant against the wall for a while and just breathed, tired; I flitted over the unknown faces, wondering if I knew any of them whilst I still lived in Forks; I looked at their clothes, at the way they walked, at all the quotidian, all the unimportant just to fill my mind with something else than the mild stabs of pain in my arm and chest, until I spotted a blonde girl that tried to balance walking on forearm crutches and carrying a precarious pile of books.
She reminded me somehow of a shy bird, stripped of her feathers that would allow her to fly; her legs were thin, way too thin to carry her weight, strangely twisted at the ankles and knees, almost no help to her at all. Toulouse-Lautrec syndrome?
"Hey."
She blinked, as if just landing after an involuntary fall somewhere from the outer space and unable just yet to register or decipher the speech of the Earth; she gave me a scared, quizzical look.
"Hey," I repeated gently. "Sorry. Need any help with those books?"
A pair of pale blue eyes focused on me and after a moment she gave me a small, cautious smile and a nod. I took the pile over and she smiled at me once again in gratitude, setting off.
"I'm Bella, by the way."
"Ginny," she murmured very quietly, peeking at me to the side and averting her eyes immediately as they met mine.
"Where are you going?"
"English."
"Okay, lead the way, I'll follow you."
She nodded and with her head hung, she walked beside me, until she halted in front of one classroom. There, she gave me a very small smile and a nod, taking the books back - but seeing the class door, she saddened and hunched a little, sighing.

I was heading to the last period of the day when I nearly bumped into her as she hurried out of the class with tears on her cheeks.
"Ginny-"
"Leave me alone," she replied in a strained voice and rushed away on her crutches, dragging one leg behind her like a dead weight.
A tall blonde girl, the helpful curly-haired girl I asked about directions and some others came out of the class giggling and the blonde was recording Ginny's retreat.
"Nice one, Lauren," the curly-haired girl complimented her while Ginny, shaken and unstable on her crutches, vanished behind the corner of the corridor. I was seeing red.
"Yeah, did you see her how she fell on that fat ass? I wonder if it even hurt," Lauren chuckled, replaying it for them on her phone. "Such a crybaby."
"Delete it!" I snapped at her and dropped my bag.
"Fuck off, loser," Lauren snorted, glancing briefly up at me and then looked back on her phone. I yanked it away from her and deleted the file before she knocked me down on the ground and kicked me in my ribs. I curled up and felt another kick in my kidneys. I looked up, everything swimming a little, and glimpsed one of the teachers passing by and casting his eyes down guiltily and hanging his head low, between his shoulders, speeding up.
"Lauren, stop it!" some girl, I think it was Angela, squealed in fright while I got another kick in my stomach.
"Shut up, Angela!" Lauren growled and dug her heel in my chest. I lost my breath.
"Stop it, she's the Chief Swan's daughter, he'll kill you!"
But she kicked on. On and on and on, I wrapped my arms around my head to protect it, she kicked me so I rolled over on my back and then jumped on my ribs and I screamed out in pain, kicked my head, kicked my stomach again, hard, quickly, many times, painfully, it was an agony – I tried to stand up, but at that moment another girl knocked me down and joined in the kicking. Then other two, I don't know which; I think only the girl Lauren had called Jessica didn't. I think I heard her pleading with Lauren again to stop it. I'm not sure. Some of them grabbed my hair and banged with my head against the floor while the other dug her heel in my belly.
"Lauren, cut it, you'll kill her!"
They didn't. I don't know for how long it went on – I lost consciousness for a moment I think, I'm not sure. But suddenly they stopped and before they kicked me again, I rolled away and tried to get up to my knees, panting – and saw that Lauren has taken a step back with a scared expression.
Suddenly I felt icy hands on my shoulders and I froze even before hearing the voice. "Is there any problem here?"
I shuddered, reining in a mounting panic and sickness. Edward gently pulled me up, while Lauren stared behind me speechless.
"No," the curly-haired one, Jessica, said, eyes huge. "No, we were just... it was just..."
"Well, if there was, I'm sure there won't be any next time, will it, Lauren?" he asked without a hint of emotion in his voice.
He put my arm around his neck and took my bag. "Come. Lean on me. Can you walk?"
"Yeah."
"Shh, easy," he stopped me when I tried to set off. "Catch your breath. Just lean on me. Would you like to sit down for a moment?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
I shrugged off his hand and took my bag back. "Yeah," I murmured, "thank you."
"For nothing. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?"
"No, thanks. It's nothing – just some bruises, that's all." I felt strangely empty and numb. "I'll just sit through Biology and go home. So don't worry about me," I murmured, dazed and unable to think, and set off a little unsteadily. He stopped me and put his hand on my ribs. I pushed it away. "Ow!"
"Sorry. I think you need an X-ray. Does it hurt to breathe in?"
I shrugged him off. "I'm fine, Edward. I'll go to the infirmary straight after Biology, okay?"
"Fine. Let me at least show you the way to class. Okay?"
"Okay."
We walked beside each other in silence for a moment.
Then he snorted in amusement.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing," he smirked. "Just that the Trigonometry teacher looked the other way and went on when he heard you cry out and saw Lauren kicking you. Just so you know if you are thinking about going to the Principal."
My head spun and I shook it. I didn't know I had screamed. "I have no illusions when it comes to headmasters," I murmured. "The last I asked for help told me to switch schools."
He didn't say anything to that, only gave me a pensive look.
My mind was in a whirl, hazy, it was difficult to latch onto any coherent thought – I still could not believe what happened, could not process it rationally, could not understand it. The corridor blurred in front of my eyes. I rubbed them.
"Are you alright?"
My vision turned monochromatic; I clutched onto his shoulder and frantically fished in my pocket for a piece of chocolate, but before I found it I went down and I blacked out for a second. He caught me and pulled me close to steady me - and suddenly I felt I'm up in the air and he was carrying me, though it was very strange, because the way he gathered me in his arms was so very tender, as if he picked up a newborn child, or a bride to carry over the threshold, flounces of lace spilling over like sea foam.
"Come, let's find you somewhere to sit."
He brought me to the nearest class, which was yet empty. "Or maybe you better lay down," he suggested with a frown and I nodded, fighting dizziness and battling my brain to not to shut down and think, think for Christ's sake. He put me gently on the floor, took my bag and used it to prop my feet up above my head and then he took off his hoodie and spread it under me, kneeling down to me. "Did she hit your head?" he asked, unscrewing my water bottle and helping me to drink.
When I finished drinking and he laid my head on the ground, I closed my eyes not to see everything dancing in front of me. I wasn't able to speak for a moment. Or move. Or do anything. I was stupefied – everything came to me as if from a great distance, felt unreal. I just was so tired.
"Take your time," Edward said and put a finger on my inner wrist, checking my pulse. I recoiled at that touch. He didn't seem to pay any mind to it.
"Ginny-"
"Who's Ginny?"
"Lauren hurt her and recorded it on her phone. Her leg... it might be broken..."
"I see. I'll check on her later if you want, so don't you worry about her now. Did Lauren hit your head?"
"It's nothing, really," I told him, trying to pull myself up so as to move for the exit, because a gnawing instinct told me I have to flee, but he pushed me down very carefully and shook his head. I took a deep breath and exhaled, staring up at the ceiling, trying to control the mounting fear that was making my heart crazy. Somehow everything looked like some Picasso's painting, skewed, topsy- turvy, nonsensical. "Just my blood pressure's having Byronic mood swings."
"I know."
For some reason it sounded eerie.
"Got anything sweet?"
I didn't like feeling so powerless with him near me. But the calm, professional, oddly tender way he was handling me confused me. It was a relief not to have to explain things – not to see the person who's seeing me while I'm helpless and sick freak out – not to have to focus on placating them. Not to have to feel ashamed that I'm ill. I just wanted to curl up and sleep, but something nagged me to fight and stay awake.
I nodded, gulping and struggling to breathe evenly. "Yeah. In my... in my bag. The small pocket."
He rummaged in it and brought out a chocolate bar. He unwrapped it and handed it to me. I devoured it and waited for it to work.
"Maybe you should call it a day," he scanned me, matter-of-fact, laying his elbow on one knee. "Right now you are in shock but the pain will kick in soon. Call your father and go home, if you don't want to go to hospital. I can clear it up with the teacher, if you want."
I shook my head. "Maybe... maybe I'll be better in a few."
He shrugged, knitting his eyebrows. He shrugged, knitting his eyebrows. "You won't and you know it," he said strangely softly. "You'd be barely able to stand up if I let you. And then you would fall right down and black out. Truth be told, you're barely holding onto your consciousness even now, aren't you?"
I didn't reply. I was too sick for that.
Because he was right.
"How about I take you to the infirmary after all? Have the nurse look at you, if you don't want to alarm your father. You know, just in case."
"If you can get here the gurney," I muttered, straining to speak. Everything was monochromatic once more and I knew I'd be out in a matter of minutes at best. "Sorry, Edward. I can't..." My head spun around.
"Shh. It will be okay. Don't worry about it."
And he picked me up and carried me, with the very same strange tenderness, the very same professional focus, the very same slow, careful walk as if to avoid rocking me and making me sicker.
The last thing I knew before I passed out at the infirmary was that he was holding my hand – and that I was too weak to take it away, or make a single other movement, despite every inch of my skin crawled under his touch.
So much for wide berth, right?

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Author's note: My heartfelt thanks to all the people who read, reviewed, favourited or put this story on alert! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Also, many thanks to Filmdork for their advice about some details of the US high school life - it is very much appreciated:-)