A/N: I love you all for reading and reviewing. I really do. I'm just having fun with a mystery here.

Back to EPOV now where we get to see their relationship progress.

The characters do not belong to me.

EPOV 3: White Rabbit

The day of firsts left me contemplative. With Bella on my mind, one other first loitered around my subconscious.

My first taste of human blood was easy. Like sleeping or tripping—for a human anyway. I just fell into it without intention. I hadn't been hunting; I wasn't any more thirsty than usual. I'd grown quite comfortable in my control, and was on my way to joining Carlisle in his profession. I was confident I could also assist the infirm.

Admittedly however, I'd been conflicted for some time about whether humans and vampires weren't somehow a natural prey relationship. Were we perhaps intended as population control? Once humans could rule animals, was there a need for something stronger? I wanted to believe there was some kind of method to the madness.

That was where it got confusing. Carlisle believed in a god, in a heaven. Believed that our abstinence was the price we paid for entry. I wrestled with his logic on two levels. Most days, I wasn't convinced there wasn't any kind of higher power out there at all, but if there was, why create the vampire if we weren't allowed to drink that which called us? I suppose it's the same question that comes whenever social practice defies religious attitudes. I just didn't know where that left me. God as I knew him was a product of the human world where my very existence was considered deviant. Why, then, would we be held to the rules created for a different species?

I never voiced such questions, as I knew how deeply opposed Carlisle was to the very notion that there might be a reason to drink from humans. However, the ideas wafted through my thoughts from time to time, and had been setting up residence at the forefront of my mind for a while.

But I wasn't actively engaging the issue that night. I wasn't pondering my existence or putting myself in temptation's way. In fact, I was in a relatively good mood. The two couples at the house needed "alone time," so I was on my own. I'd seen a movie that made me laugh.

I wandered through the city in the dead of the night. I fit in there. I was a creature of the night after all.

It was around two in the morning when I heard the muffled screams from an alleyway. I had been in my own head and hadn't noticed the girl's internal cries for help or the malignant thoughts of the men surrounding her.

As I approached, I could only think of one thing. Rosalie. I imagined her frightened and surrounded, being raped and beaten. And I stopped thinking after that. I acted only on instinct. No one deserved that. She would have died far too young had Carlisle not found her. And I knew how it affected her after. There was no good outcome.

I felt rage. I felt bitterness. I felt desperation.

I removed the girl first. She had no idea what happened. She passed out when I began running and never saw my face. I moved faster than I ever had before, taking her to a nearby hospital.

It didn't take me long to locate the men. They hadn't moved from where I left them. Three of them. They were stunned, frozen in place. They had no idea what hit them.

I drained one while the other two watched in horror, but they were not fast enough or coherent enough to move to safety. I could taste the drugs and alcohol in his system. Even with the unwanted additives, animal blood was no match for this taste. This scent. Even the texture was more palatable. I don't remember much about human food, but I assume it would be akin to the difference between a ground beef and ground turkey. The serve the same purpose; the turkey burger may even taste fine if you're hungry. If you'd only tried the substitute, it would be easy to enjoy it, but once you'd had the original, going back would be far more difficult.

By the time all three were lifeless, I recognized that I had been gluttonous. And I wondered what I had done.

But a new feeling washed over me. Power.

I spent about ten y ears on my own after that. I'd gone back to the house in the morning. I didn't plan to stay. I knew I couldn't. But I didn't want to just disappear.

My eyes gave me away instantly. I should have buckled from the weight of Carlisle's disappointment the moment he saw me, but I didn't feel remorse yet. I was high on the blood, and the idea of what I could do. Esme was devastated, and Rosalie was difficult to read. Part smugness at her own superiority, but it was the other part, the disapproval and sadness, that I'd never forgotten.

For years, I lived for the night. For the dark alleys and bridge underpasses. For houses where women screamed for help and the ones where children cowered in fear in their closets. For these were the places I found my victims, only I didn't quite see them as such then. I justified. I rationalized.

And I killed.

But it didn't take long to discover that I didn't do well on my own. All those years wandering dark and evil spaces, and the only sounds I remembered were screams.

There were no loving voices to balance the demons. Ultimately, I became the monster I'd always believed I was.

My return to abstinence wasn't about the fee for heaven; it was about the price of my mental hell. I might not have a soul, but I had a conscience. And I had a father who taught me the importance of listening to it.

I went to the hospital the day after my first three kills. Her name was Mary. I found a necklace and a button on the ground by the crime scene. The necklace I slipped around her neck while she slept.

The button I carried in my pocket still today. I reached in and thumbed it whenever I questioned my path, wondered whether it was all worth the sacrifice.

And it was easy to question on a day like today as I sat through hours of high school torture. Knowing I was about to face my personal siren in biology.

Remembering the taste of human blood was a double edged sword. Typically, I pushed it down because it only made animal blood that much less appealing. On the other hand, to recall the taste meant I remembered watching the life drain from a human being. I took a soul. I wasn't God. I was the devil.

Considering human blood while sitting at my lab table was especially stupid. Any human blood was a temptation; I couldn't begin to imagine what Bella's would taste like. But I wanted to know.

Carlisle told me to avoid her. I should have skipped biology, of course. Should have fought harder to find a different course. But my curiosity got the best of me. That and my ego. I wanted to prove to myself, to Carlisle, that I could do this. Only Alice knew I was there. I couldn't hide anything from her, but she must have had a good feeling because she didn't try to stop me, and she didn't tell anyone else.

Bella floated into the room without a care in the world, unaware of the depth of danger she faced. Some of the other children in the room greeted her, and she waved. Mike Newton fawned over her, and I watched for signs of interest, but she was unreadable. Why I cared whether she was attracted to the human boy was beyond me. But I knew I didn't want her to want him.

She shooed him off when the bell rang and slid into the seat next to me.

"Are you going to talk to me today?" she asked.

"No." I replied.

"Fair enough," she sighed, turning to face the teacher.

That was the extent of our conversation for that day. But my throat burned and my desire raged.

We both survived day two. Though there was a split second . . . Alice said she was bouncing her seat and almost came running over to our classroom.

Things started to get interesting on the third day.

"Hello, Edward. Lovely weather we're having." Her face was bright, and her smile implied innocence.

I rolled my eyes at her, and she laughed. "Not even small talk huh?"

"No," I replied again.

"Your loss."

Talking would mean more air flowing around my mouth; some was bound to make it to my nose. It had been getting better. I wouldn't call it easy by any means, but by day three, I wasn't in quite as much pain. Still not worth the risk of breathing, but something about her casual tone taunted me. I wanted to know more.

About halfway through the class, we were examining slides. The microscope was on my side of the table, as I was still taking notes on the current slide. I didn't need the notes, but it was all part of the show.

She reached across the table to grab the microscope. When she pulled back, her arm grazed across mine.

We both inhaled. My throat blazed. She gasped. She dropped the microscope, but it wasn't far off the table, so the collision with the table was quiet and without consequence. I tried not to look at her. I kept my head forward. Neither of us moved nor spoke for three and half minutes. I was watching the clock head of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that she was looking at me, intently.

"Did you feel that?" she finally pressed.

I shook my head slightly.

"Edward, look at me."

I closed my eyes.

"Please?" I didn't know why, but something about that word, her intonation, worked. I couldn't not turn to face her. But I was nearly done in by the depth of her dark eyes. "Don't tell me you didn't feel that?"

"Feel what?"

She shook her head at me. "The spark, jerk."

Of course, I felt it.

"It was probably just a shock," I said shaking my head ever so slightly.

"Mmhm. Right." I took advantage and broke her gaze. She looked down at her hands, as she trailed a finger from her right hand over the spot. Like she was soothing a pain.

I watched her contemplate her next move, and her tone became soft when she asked, ""Why are you so cold?"

"I don't feel cold," I said without expression. She rolled her eyes, but kept her tone even again.

"You do to the touch. I felt it the other day too. You're frigid."

"Poor circulation, perhaps." I shrugged and looked away to hide my smile at her word choice. Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head as she turned away. But she said nothing else.

On the fourth day, she didn't even greet me. I chuckled under my breath. She was trying to be mysterious. She doodled all through class, with her back half turned, and her arm covering her notes, to hide them from me. I was insanely curious as to what she was trying to hide from me. She couldn't possibly believe I needed to cheat from her notes.

Her silence, however, gave me more time for observation. Not that I needed it. I'd done little else the last few days but pay attention to her. I'd learned she wasn't much of a people person. She got along with everyone, and answered questions appropriately, but whenever they left her alone, she seemed at peace. At lunch she sat with one of the more popular cliques, though she didn't initiate talk or make efforts to join in. She ate. She doodled. She waited until someone talked to her before speaking up.

The circle appeared to be tiring of her a bit. The two female ring leaders were feeling internally hostile. They didn't see her as a threat, but as unworthy of their table.

I passed by her at her locker before the last period of the day, and I noticed she left her green notebook in her locker. A perfect opportunity. I couldn't tell you what my justification was at that point, but I simply knew I had to read what was in there. Right or wrong. And of course it was wrong.

I was hoping to find geometric shapes or pictures of flowers. Maybe even little expressions like "B.S. + E.C" or "Mrs. Edward Cullen," in the corner. I couldn't read her mind, but I knew if she were delving into typical teenage fantasies, I was the likely subject. I usually was. In this case though, I also had a hunch because she glazed over when any of the human males talked to her. She had fire when she tried to confront me. The intrigue had to be mutual.

I opened the cover and devoured her scribbles.

Edward Cullen

Observations

Cold. Extremely cold. Like just coming out of a freezer.

Pale skin. Lighter than mine, but doesn't seem sickly. How is that? Same with his siblings. Odd.

Strangest color of eyes. Seemed very dark first day. But lighter now. Not brown, not tan. Like topaz? How to account for changes?

Asshole. Won't talk to me. No idea why he hates me.

Gorgeous. Never seen anyone like that. Whole family is beautiful, but he is inhumanly hot. Other girls in school all think so. Dates infrequently. Jess Stanley questions his sexual orientation. No gaydar alerts have been beeping for me though; I get a recluse feel. She's probably never met an actual gay man to know.

Ignored him today. He didn't seem bothered. So much for my trying to change things up that way.

The list scared me. Since I couldn't hear her thoughts, I hadn't been aware of her level of curiosity nor the accuracy of her perceptions. So far, they remained innocuous enough, though I decided that I had to take a different approach with her. Ignoring her only served to increase her interest.

I'd been holding my own as far as my bloodlust was concerned. Perhaps, it was time to start influencing her perceptions. Monday, she did not join the crowd at the lunch table. I scanned the room, but didn't see her. It only took a minute before I heard Lauren and Jessica gossiping about how weird the new girl was, opting to work in the library rather than join them for lunch.

I excused myself from my table, with a questioning look from Rosalie and a nod from Alice.

The library had higher ceilings than the biology lab, so her scent was less potent, but still strong enough to make pinpointing her location effortless. She was tucked in the back, hidden by several large stacks where a couple of oversized chairs were set up for reading. I doubt she heard me approach, but she showed no surprise when I sat down next to her.

"Not hungry today?" she asked without looking up from her book.

"Not particularly."

"I'm not surprised. You don't eat much."

"Don't worry. I'm perfectly satisfied." It was the biggest lie I'd told in a long time.

"Are you now?" she asked skeptically.

"You don't believe me."

She raised an eyebrow. And deflected. "Why are you here?"

"Because you are."

"As if that's an answer. You've been avoiding me for a week, and now you seek me out?"

"Yes, well. You win."

"I wasn't aware we were playing a game." She placed her book in her lap, and let her arm rest on the edge of the chair.

I chuckled. "Yes you were."

"Well, then. What's my prize, Edward?" she asked pointedly. I tilted my head at her. I reached over and lay my hand on top of hers.

The heat was instantaneous. Her eyes went wide, as we both fought the instinct to pull away from the fire burning between us. But I left my hand in place, and she didn't flinch.

The fire raged, but I grew used to the heat.

"What were you hoping for, Bella?"

The warning bell picked that exact moment to let us know the lunch period had ended, and we had five minutes to get to biology.

I stayed in the chair as she stood up. "Are you coming?"

We walked side by side to the classroom. Close enough, but not so close as to start rumors. Who was I kidding. The rumors were starting the minute we walked out of the library. Heads whipped around as we passed. Friends hit each other to get their attention. Eyes went wide. Well, most of them. There were a handful—Rosalie, Jessica, and Lauren for example—whose eyes rolled or narrowed instead.

Edward Cullen simply didn't talk to people in this school.

Tyler Crowley and Mike Newton were playing football down the hall, evidently over their fight from a week ago. Tyler caught a ball just behind me, but lost his balance when his feet hit the ground, slamming into Bella which pushed her into me. She gasped and at the contact, forcing an "Uh!" from her, and her hand went to her mouth to cover the sound.

Tyler apologized thinking it was his shove that caused the reaction. I smiled. She looked at me suspiciously.

"You did feel it didn't you?

I shrugged.

We walked into biology silently, but once we were seated at the table, she leaned toward me.

"What is that?"

"I honestly don't know."

"Have you felt it before?"

"No."

She pulled out her notebook and started doodling. She bit her lip. She shot a few looks at me out of the corner of her eye. It came from under her breath, in the tiniest voice I'd heard from her.

"I kinda like it."

"Me too, Bella."

She didn't look at me, but she smiled. And she turned her body, and began to write in that notebook of hers.

E/N: Uh oh. He's not staying away from her right now, but we know that he's got to leave because that's the whole premise of the summary. Hmm. How far will they take things? And that darned notebook. What else will she be writing there?

Do remember that from here on out, I don't really follow Twilight much in terms of specific events. Next chapter will be another EPOV.

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Come play on the Twilighted thread. We're doing metaphoric sex writing challenges.

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