Despite everything, I manage to play my part well enough to get the job.

My boss, Debby Debus, is surprised at how fast I pick up things. According to the résumé she's seen, this is only my second job. My first was working at another restaurant until we moved. The résumés I sent to Newman's Outfitters and the gas station said similar things about working in retail. This is actually the third restaurant I've worked at and seventh job in general. Not that anyone's keeping track.

After realizing I've already got the basics down, she has me taking patrons' orders, delivering food, and even doing a bit on the cash register. Miss Debby is an older woman with a warm round face who insists I call her by her first name. When Cypress comes to pick me up, she tells him she's "pleased as punch" with me and he smiles.

On the drive home, he and I compare the distances between the house, the school, and the diner. We suspect it will be a 12 to 15-minute walk from school to the diner and about 30 minutes from the diner to the house.

"Maybe I'll just come and get you after work…"

"It's not that far, Cy."

"No, I know. It's just… That's a long time for you to be alone at night."

I huff. He glances at me briefly but I don't argue with him. We both know he's right.

Turning onto Sherwood Ave, the space between houses starts growing. Squinting through the dark, I try to assess the ones we fly by. A few are large and stately with wide, treeless spaces. But others are rather small, a bit run down, closer together, and encircled by the forest.

We drive a good way around the Robin Hood Loop before reaching Nottingham Way, a short road with only two streetlights. They're too far apart and too dim to show much of the neighborhood, but from what can be seen, all the houses are fairly spread out. Each one is a comfortable size if not a little on the small side.

We pull into a squat driveway just big enough for the bronco. It's too dark to see many details but it's definitely the same house from online. The light shining on the porch shows the yellowish paint peeling, cobwebs hanging in what few dry nooks and crannies there are, and rainwater sloshing over the sides of the rusting gutters. One of the wooden poles on the porch had been replaced at some point and never painted to match the others. The mailbox by the door and the porch swing have been somewhat-freshly repainted, making them look immaculate compared to the rest of the exterior.

Light shines out from inside the house. The door and all the windows are open letting the familiar scent of sage into the night air. Our sleeping bags, duffle bags, and the rest of our belongings are still out on the porch waiting to be brought in. Honestly, with how much we own, it looks more like we're here to house-sit than move in.

"It should be fine to start moving things inside," Cy mumbles, picking up a few stray bags of food. He wipes his work boots on the decrepit welcome mat, nearly tearing it apart each time his foot scrapes across it. "They were almost done clearing the house when I left."

"Oh, please," Dale chides, turning a corner with a shiny new broom. "You wouldn't know a smudged house from a demonic castle if the demons tried to bite you on the butt."

Cy glares at him but continues to the kitchen. I start to follow him but stop and stare at the furniture in the dining area.

It's a dining set. An actual wooden dining set with enough seats for all of us and then some. It's much too big for the space. Very grandiose with lots of chunky swirls and unnecessary detail along the legs. Time has left stains, scratches, and scuffs here and there but I don't care. I love it. I can't even remember the last time we had a proper table that wasn't made of plastic or surrounded by mismatched chairs.

"Where'd we get that?" I ask.

"The people who own the house left it here," Cy says. "They said they'd come to get all their leftover furniture this weekend and that we could move in after, but I said they could leave it if they wanted since we don't have much of—"

"Any of our own," Dale cuts in.

Cy ignores him and takes the small box I carried in into his own hands. "It made the down payment and rent cost a little more, but they said we could start moving in right away. And now we've got a dining set, a couch, a coffee table, a bed in one of the rooms, and a few other things. Money's going to be even tighter for a while, but I thought it was a fair deal."

"Good thing I got a job then," I tease.

He smiles then lets out a soft breath, his eyes heavy with bitterness and guilt. They're the same shade of green as mine but with little brown flecks instead of silver cracks. He reminds me of a tree: tall, strong, and sturdy. But even the strongest trees can only take so much weight.

"You're okay with all this old stuff?" I ask quickly. Cy glances down at his hands. He smiles but it's tired and doesn't ease my worries.

"If we bothered furnishing this place ourselves, all that stuff would be old and used, too," he says. "Besides," he heads back to the kitchen, "it's you and Chrissy who got the short end of the stick this time."

"What do you—"

A small avalanche crashes above us making the ceiling shake. Chris's swearing accompanies it.

Dale snickers. The attic was an absolute train wreck the last time he saw it and all he's heard so far from up there is Chris's cursing and things crashing.

"If it's that bad, we're just going to steal your room and you'll have to keep sharing with Cy."

Dale starts sweeping a little faster, whistling innocently as he hurries to another part of the house.

Cy clears his throat. "It's probably not that bad now…" He says it in a way that really means: Please don't punish me for whatever he's thinking.

I smile over at him then shout up to the attic, "Hey, Chris! Is the house clear?"

"Why don't you Look yourself?!" she growls back.

"I don't know what you've done other than the sage or where to Look."

Something gets dropped harshly. My eyes follow the thud of Chris's footsteps and land on a stair-like ladder near the hallway. She pops her head out from the space in the ceiling, her dark wavy hair falling straight down, and glares at me. I smile back.

She glances around the living room, dining room, and what she can see of the kitchen. Her head disappears and she starts walking down the retractable stairs.

"You go deal with that mess," she says gesturing her thumb to the attic. "I'll deal with the leftover shit-bags refusing to leave."

"Thank you, Chris," I sing-song as I skip over to her. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"Whatever. I called the side closest to the door."

I nod and climb up the steps. The ceiling up here is rather low and slants drastically. No wonder Dale's glad he got an actual bedroom. There's very little space up here for someone his height to stand comfortably. The surplus of boxes and ancient furniture only take from that available space.

A dim bulb in the center of the attic is the only source of light in the room. Cobwebs and dust still litter most of the space. A small area close to the hatch is cleaner and less cluttered than the rest of the room — Chris's space. Toppled books and boxes surround the small clearing where she'd been haphazardly shoving things. I shake my head at her shoddy organization then roll up the sleeves of my jacket.

As I stack boxes and reorganize the pieces furniture, I keep stopping to search through them. On my side of the room, I make a pile of interesting finds, like the shoebox of black & white photographs and a glass ornament with a dancing couple dangling in the center. Near the hatch, I make piles of things we can use: empty jars, old blankets, long-forgotten clothes.

By the time Dale calls me down for dinner, the room looks a little more inhabitable. There's more room to walk now that I've almost finished stacking the boxes. I've got them stacked along the center of the room, roughly splitting it in half. It's especially clean on Chris's side since mine is cluttered with ancient knickknacks and interesting keepsakes.

The four of us squish into the dining room for dinner. The dining set is almost too big for the space, especially once we take our seats, but it's been a while since we've been able to have dinner together at an actual table. No one complains at first but as we finish eating it starts getting a little hectic.

Chris kicks the back of Dale's chair when she can't squeeze by. Dale scoots his chair back even further, nearly crushing her against the small bartop that opens into the kitchen. She dumps her leftover spaghetti sauce into his hair. Dale shrieks and starts screaming at her. Chris shoves him and yells back. Cypress stands and starts shouting at the both of them. It's pure craziness but it just makes me so unbelievably happy. Chris eventually notices me grinning and flips me off.

Once we all finish, Cypress stays downstairs to do the dishes while Chris, Dale, and I get back to work in the attic. Dale keeps accidentally smacking his head on the exposed beams and I keep laughing at him for it. When he's able to avoid the beams, he's tackling cobwebs with the broom and drawing simple sigils to help keep the space a bit warmer. Chris follows him around with a duster, sneezing whenever someone kicks up some dust and adds her own blessings to his work.

Occasionally they help me scoot a large trunk or bookcase or what-have-you to another part of the room. The mountain of stuff dividing the attic is a couple feet wide now and nearly touches the highest point of the slanted ceiling. The rest of the leftover furniture and belongings are stacked and pressed along the walls.

My side has a large dark green cabinet with drawers on the bottom and shelves on the top that took all three of us to push. There's also a white-ish vanity with peeling paint and clusters of old trunks and hat boxes that I've stacked to roughly table height. Chris has two mismatched bookshelves – one squat and long, the other thin and tall –, two wooden chairs, a square folding table, a heavyset wardrobe, and an old sewing desk.

I bring a few boxes downstairs filled with jars, old kitchenware, and musty books. Cypress slides on his old pair of leather gloves, just in case, and rummages through them. He throws out anything broken or beyond repair before finding homes for the rest. There's a medium sized hanging mirror that I bring to Dale's room and a beautiful painting of a forest that I bring to Cy's. I even find an old record player and set it up in the corner of the living room to test out later.

Cypress calls us all to bed at 11:30. The attic is so close to being finished that Chris and I start to whine. But Dale is exhausted and two bonks to the head away from a concussion and Cypress starts using his I'm-The-Adult voice, so we give in. To Dale's annoyance, he and Cypress have to share the bed in Cy's room, the only one in the house.

Chris and I squish together on the couch. Her legs and mine overlap and our feet are nearly in each other's faces. If Dale and I didn't need to stay apart while we slept, I'd force him to sleep out on the couch with me so he'd really have something to complain about. But alas, Cypress needs a bed for his back, Dale and I have to sleep apart, and Chris and I are the shortest of the bunch. So she and I are stuck on the couch for now.

Her sneezing wakes me up at dawn, already back in the attic and doing another round of tidying up. I have to take the broom and promise to finish sweeping just so she'll start getting ready for school. I bring a few more boxes down from the attic, including one with old records, and set a few things around the house to make it feel homier.

We leave fifteen minutes later than usual since we're so much closer to everything now. Cy puts the house key in the mailbox before following the rest of us to the Bronco. He's only driving us this morning so we can actually see the neighborhood and know our route to school. From now on, we'll be able to walk to and from school on our own rather than getting up at an ungodly hour or waiting forever for him to pick us up. The idea of getting to sleep in a little longer from now on make Dale and I pretty happy.

Once we get to school, there're only fifteen minutes before the first bell. More cars than we usually see are parked in the lot, including the Cullens' Volvo. Chris frowns at it but doesn't say anything before heading to her locker. Dale heads for his too, which is the same building as his first class. I head to the math building.

"Morning, Mr. Varner," I say stepping into his room. He nods in return. Edward turns his head from the window and smiles as I walk down my row. I smile back, surprised to find him sitting beside me again.

"Good morning, Amethyst," he says warmly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Not terribly. Would've slept better if Chris hadn't been sneezing all night," I say with a grin.

He opens his mouth to say something then freezes. In the same moment, my heart rate skyrockets. Adrenaline pumps through my veins at a dizzying speed. Meanwhile, Edward is gripping at his nose and mouth. His eyes are wide with panic, intensity, and… something else.

He grabs his desk with his other hand. A severe sense of déjà vu hits me but Edward doesn't act the same as the last time this happened. He's still ridged. He still looks ready to snap something in half. It must the surprise in his golden eyes. Or maybe it's fear. Whatever it is, the expression on his face is not dark. It still frightens me, but only in that he himself looks so frightened.

"Excuse me," he chokes, racing to get away.

Mr. Varner sends Edward a curious look as he hurries from the room. From the corner of my eye, I see him shift his focus to me. Probably wondering what I did to make Edward flee not even ten seconds after sitting down next to him. I stare at the door wondering the same thing.

My heart rate slows and my body relaxes as the adrenaline weens itself out of my system. Sitting there, staring at the door, my mind tries to filter through what just happened.

What did just happen?

My life was threatened by something. Again. And Edward almost did the exact same thing he did the last time. Only today he had enough control over himself to not snap a desk in half and left the room instead. And once he did, once he was gone… so was the threat.

A terrible lump forms in my throat. I dive into my school bag and pull out mom's brew, slathering it across my neck and wrists. Then I'm up and out the door too.

There's no way to tell where Edward went so I just keep circling the school. I stop Sam when I see her and ask if she's seen him but she just shakes her head. By sheer luck, I glance into a room and see one of his brothers.

"Emmett!" I shout before even finishing my double take.

Grizzly glances up in surprise then grins. "Amethyst, what's up?"

"Do you know where Edward hangs out before school starts?"

He frowns and raises a brow. "I thought he was waiting for you in Varner's room."

"Well, he was but— um, in Mr. Varner's room, I mean," I say quickly, trying not to blush, "uh, but then something… kinda… happened."

"What happened?" Emmett askes rising from his desk. For the record, in addition to being a huge mass of muscle, Emmett is also very tall. Taller than Dale. He stares down at me, a protective edge to his golden eyes.

"Oh. Well. Nothing really," I squeak out. "We were saying hello and then he… um… he got a little sick, I guess, and excused himself."

"He got sick?" He looks at me like I'm crazy for a second then starts bellowing with laughter. The whole room seems to shake at the booming sound.

"Oh, man! That's hilarious! I have got to see this."

"Wait, Emmett!" I barely catch him before he's out the door. "Do you know where he is?"

"No, but I'll find him for you," he says grinning even wider. "How's that?"

I frown a little but nod. "Can you just do me a favor and tell him not to freak out too much? I think I… I'm pretty sure… uh…" Emmett guffaws and I shake my head. "Just tell him to trust me and that class will be fine, okay?"

He nods, still snickering, then heads out. I go the exact opposite direction, begging my cheeks to stop burning, and keep searching.

Eventually, I start running into my friends. I almost ask Jessica if she's seen Edward around. She's the most likely to know where someone is and where they hang out, but the last thing I need is for her to start asking questions or coming up with new rumors about us.

I keep looking for Edward until the bell rings then trudge back to Mr. Varner's room emptyhanded. Edward is already there. I'm surprised, and a little hurt, to see him sitting back in his old spot.

Flopping into my own seat, I frown. Throughout class, I fiddle with my pencil, bounce my knee, and keep glancing over in his direction. He doesn't look back. I consider throwing my pencil at him but don't. Instead, I write him a note on a scrap of paper:

'Sorry about earlier, but everything should be okay now. Do you still notice anything,' I scribble those words out, 'feel sick?'

I roll the message into a ball and throw it at him. It hits him in the forearm and lands directly in front of him. He stares down at the little ball of paper. For a second he doesn't move at all. Then his eyes shift in my direction. Though he doesn't look at me, I'm sure he sees me staring. Waiting.

He sighs softly then freezes. A horrified expression plasters across his face for all of two seconds before melting into confusion. He sits there for a minute, staring at nothing, then wraps his hands around his desk. Nothing groans or creaks or snaps. He just sits there, holding his desk. He takes a very small breath.

He blinks. He takes a larger breath. I quirk a brow at him.

Eventually, he turns to me, still looking confused. I point to the slip of paper in front of him then try to focus on Mr. Varner's lesson. Everything the old man says goes in one ear and out the other, but at the very least I'm able to copy everything he's got on the board.

In no time at all, the little ball of paper bounces back onto my desk. Unfolding it, I spend a moment gawking at Edward's elegant handwriting beneath my chicken scratch. Such pretty penmanship on crinkled school paper just seems criminal.

'I'm fine now. How did you do that?'

I frown at the question. Do what? Fix the problem or cause it in the first place? Because I don't know how I caused what happened. I only know that I did.

It's a real struggle to shoot down every theory that pops in my head. Especially because some of them do make quite a bit of sense. If he's Sensitive, that might be what's causing it. My unmasked presence could somehow be triggering a painful response in him or some kind of fighting instinct. Or maybe it's that he—

No, no, no! Ugh! No questions! No prying! Why is that so hard for my dumb brain to grasp? And he's not allowed to ask questions either!

In my jagged handwriting, I scribble back, 'Wrestling Chairs.'

I roll it back into a ball, pause, unfold it again, and add a winking face. Then I send it back.

Edward frowns when he reads it.

The bell rings and I pack up my things. Mike whines about tonight's homework while we walk. Angela does her best to reassure him he'll be okay but he just glances in my direction with sad, kicked-puppy eyes.

"Did you understand anything Mr. Varner was saying, Am?"

"I wasn't paying attention, to be honest. But I'm sure it'll make some sense once I reread the textbook. I'm pretty good with math."

Mike's eyes light up. "Really? Is there any chance you'd want to—"

"Excuse me."

We turn to find Edward right behind us.

"Could I borrow you for a moment, Amethyst?"

"Sure thing." I wave to Angela and Mike.

Mike frowns. He grumbles out a goodbye and leaves. Angela shifts her eyes from Mike to me and Edward. She pauses on Edward then turns her attention back to me. She stutters, telling me she'll meet me in English, then hurries off.

I sigh. "Twenty bucks says I'll be hounded by Jess when I get there."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Edward mumbles. I hum at him curiously but he just gestures to the path ahead of us. "I'm sorry for stealing you away from your friends," he doesn't sound like it, "but I needed to ask you what—"

"No questions," I say quickly. "Remember? We said no questions."

"I know, but… I don't understand how you did that. That's twice now that you've done something like that. I can't wrap my head around it," he says earnestly.

"Yeah, well…" I keep my eyes on my shoes. "Just know that I know what to do now. It won't happen again."

"But how? I don't understand how you—"

"Edward," I say halting and turning on him. "No questions means no questions. I realize it's frustrating and annoying, believe me, but that's what we agreed on. I need you to trust that I know what I'm doing. I promise you won't have any more trouble with… getting sick in class. Okay?"

He stares at me for a second. His eyes light up as it dawns on him that he isn't the only one struggling with our deal. Not that that helps. The curious glint in his eyes keeps growing the longer we stare at each other. He turns his golden eyes downward, trying to contain himself. We continue walking.

"Can at least ask if it's difficult for you to do… whatever it is?"

"I guess that's fine," I say with a sigh. "And, no, it's not. It's just a matter of remembering to do it. Which I will from now on."

As I say this, I think about Mom's potion and how much is left in the bottle. She always makes a fresh batch before she goes off looking for Dad or to help a client. I've never run out while she's away, but I've also never had to douse myself every single day before either. Which is what I'm going to have to start doing to make sure my… whatever-it-is doesn't bother Edward anymore.

She's been gone since Chris's birthday, which missed the Summer Solstice by two days this year. She didn't even send us a message on Cy's birthday, which is unlike her. But the point is, I've been using the potion on and off for the past several months and the bottle is already almost half empty. If I use it every day, I'll probably only get another month or two out of this batch.

Dale and I know how to make more, more or less. His attempts are always, naturally, better than mine. But I doubt we have all the ingredients right now. I also doubt Forks has any shops that sell what we need. There has to be something nearby to help us replenish our stock, though. Worst case scenario, we might need to take a day trip to Seattle.

Although… If I tell Dale I'm running low, he might start asking questions. How did I run out so quickly? Why am I using it so often? What do I mean Edward gets weird and nearly breaks desks when I don't use it? And so on. The fact that Dale hasn't gotten anything incriminating out of our head so far is nothing short of a miracle. If he asks too many questions, though, something is bound to slip through. I sigh again.

"Are you sure everything is alright?" Edward asks. His concern makes my heart swell but I squish it down.

"Yeah. Just thinking. That's all."

Edward frowns and his brow furrows. His expression is caught somewhere between frustration and a pout. It makes me chuckle.

When we reach my English class, I rub his shoulder encouragingly and give him small hug. He stares at me wide-eyed. He's so stunned, he doesn't even respond when I say I'll see him in Gym.

To my great shock, Jessica is not standing in the row, hands on her hips, waiting to shriek at me when I enter the room. Instead, she's chattering away about a fight Jennifer Brown and Chloe Smith had last night on one of their blogs. She acknowledges me when I slide into my seat then recounts the whole fight for me from the beginning. I nod along at all the right cues.

When Mr. Mason calls the class to attention, I turn to give Angela a questioning look. Her face gets a little red and she quickly looks away. When she finds the courage to look back again, I smile and mouth, "Thanks." Her cheeks stay pink but she nods.


Alice walks into Biology more distracted than usual. Her eyes are completely fogged over. She walks down the aisle slowly, her attention obviously elsewhere. Her small, careful steps and blank face remind me of a blind woman.

"Alice?"

She stops beside our desk, still looking forward. After a moment she frowns. She looks down at me, momentarily breaking her trance and giving me a good view of her golden eyes.

Had they been gold yesterday or still black? Not that it really matters with the Cullens. Maybe this is normal for them. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow they'll all have silver eyes or purple ones — anything but red would be fine.

Alice blinks down at me with her currently-golden eyes. She smiles tightly then takes her seat.

"Good morning, Amethyst."

"Morning," I return. "Is everything okay?"

Her smile starts to fall and the fog starts to roll back over her eyes. She quickly forces her smile back into place and nods.

"Everything's fine. Edward just wanted me to keep an eye on a few things for him." She glares off to the side. "A better eye," she grumbles.

"Oh."

Right now, Alice seems like the least able person to keep an eye on anything, let alone a few things. Or maybe she's the most able. Those foggy eyes of hers might tell her more than anyone could ever imagine. It's impossible to know for sure, and asking could get me killed – literally if Rosalie catches wind of it – so I just hum quietly to myself instead.

Alice glances back over at me, a curious glimmer in her eyes. Neither of us says anything for a while. Eventually, she sighs and stares straight ahead, her eyes fogging over again. When the bell rings, I tell her not to worry about explaining today's lesson to me. She comes out of her fog to look at me again, still curious, then nods in thanks and goes back into her not-quite-daydreaming.

Biology is so much harder without her guidance. While I'm scrambling to keep up with Mr. Banner's nonsense, Alice doesn't write a single thing down. Heck, she doesn't even take anything out of her bag. But when Banner asks her a question, hoping to catch her off guard, she answers without pause and without care. She just keeps staring off into whatever she sees. Mr. Banner doesn't pick on her again.

I start packing up my things before the bell rings. Once it does, I'm out of my seat and next to Alice. When she stands, I link arms with her. People gawk at me as I guide her out of the room.

Alice's arm is completely ridged until she blinks and seems to realize someone is holding her. She bends her arm, though it's still very stiff, then glances up at me.

"You're obviously preoccupied," I tell her as we walk. "The last thing I want is for you to get hurt while you're lost in thought."

"I'll be fine, Amethyst," Alice says smiling. "Besides, everyone—"

Her eyes instantly fog over. Not even a step later, she comes back into the moment and stares at me. A wild grin flies across her features.

"Everyone's going to stare at you!" she says excitedly. "They'll be gossiping about you and my family all afternoon!"

I stare at my crazy-eyed friend. "Um… and that's… good?"

Alice rolls her eyes, but the grin doesn't leave her face. She glances down at our arms again. Her eyes fog over once more, slower than the last time. Slowly, her face falls. When she comes back to me again, she nearly looks ready to cry.

"What's wrong, Alice?" I ask carefully.

She shakes her head and looks down. "Nothing," she says softly. "I thought I'd figured it out but…" She shakes her head again and sighs heavily.

I gingerly rub Alice's arm as we enter the girls' locker room. It does nothing to comfort her.

She doesn't wait by the door for me today. When I enter the gym, she's standing near Edward, both of them staring at the floor. Edward occasionally gazes from one side of the room to the other or up at the ceiling. Neither of them says anything.

With a frown, I hurry over to them. Like Alice predicted, everyone's eyes are on me, following me across the large room. Edward watches me, too, with a small smile slowly taking shape. Alice glances over at him just as I reach them.

Edward takes a careful breath as I greet them — something which makes Alice scoff.

"Are you okay, Alice?" I ask again.

"I'm fine," she huffs. "Just frustrated, that's all." She stops glaring at the floor long enough to look at me and purse her lips.

"Is there… anything I can do to help?" My voice goes higher with uncertainty. Somehow, it feels like whatever's bothering her is my fault. But I don't know how or why or if there's I can do to fix it.

Alice just drops her eyes and shakes her head. "It's just something I need to figure out," she mutters.

I raise a brow in Edward's direction, hoping for more clarification. He just gives me a half-amused smirk.

"Wrestling Chairs," he says with a wink.

My heart speeds up as my eyebrows jump to my hairline. Edward's grin gets a little more amused. Alice glances up at us, but I just nod quickly and look away.

From this corner of the room, I can see just about everybody in the gym. People flick glances my way while we wait for Coach Clapp. Some are subtle about it. Others stare openly and unabashed until they realize I'm staring back.

Zac and Kyle enter the gym at the same time. The two of them spot me and Kyle leans over. He must say something Zac doesn't like because Zac glares and hits him. Kyle laughs and throws an arm around his sulking friend. Zac sends one more look to our little group, his eyes landing on Edward before I lose them in the crowd.

Edward makes a low sound, possibly a sigh but maybe not. Despite him standing a little closer than before, it's hard to tell. He frowns in the direction the boys were headed.

"Another day of being the talk of the town, huh?" I ask.

He glances over at me, quirking a brow. After a small moment, the questioning look disappears. He sighs for sure this time. "It looks like it," he says.

His annoyed tone makes me frown. "What's the matter, Edward?"

He shakes his head. "You probably wouldn't be talked about as much if you stayed with your normal friends." I can tell by the way he says "normal" he means my friends who are Norms.

Part of me briefly wonders if that word is in their vocabulary: Norms, Normals, Common Folk. Of the few witches and covens I've interacted with, most have their own word to separate us from non-magical people. Thanks to J. K. Rowling, most can easily avoid confusion by using the term "muggle". It has the added bonus of being a mainstream word, too. If anyone overhears it, they just think you're a huge Harry Potter nerd rather than an actual witch.

"This is Forks High School," I tell him. "In case you haven't noticed, the first place National Varsity Gossip Championship award is on display in the front office."

Edward chuckles at that.

"People are going to talk one way or another," I continue. "I'd rather they talk about things I agree with than not, though."

His eyebrows rise. "You agree with what they're saying?"

"Oh. No, I don't know." I consider our classmates, the large distance between them and the Cullens and I. "I have no idea what they're saying."

He nods. Mostly to himself, like the thought hadn't occurred to him but makes sense nonetheless.

"Why?" I ask. "What have you heard?"

Edwards glances back to the crowd. He frowns and returns his attention to me. "I'd rather not say."

"They just talk about how strange it is for you to be so friendly with us," Alice supplies, ignoring her brother's scowl. She smiles, showing off her perfect teeth. "The best of them think we're conceited loners. The rest aren't so nice."

I furrow my brows in confusion. Okay, Rosalie, I can see being conceited, but the rest of them? True, they did seem to keep to themselves but… It suddenly dawns on me that no one else ever really talks to the Cullens.

Edward keeps to himself in Trig. Alice never acknowledges anyone else in Bio and no one in Bio acknowledges her. Even in Gym, a lot of our classmates purposefully try to avoid them. Heck, even Lauren had told me to avoid Edward my very first day of class. Not only that but the day Dale had walked up to their table at lunch, literally everybody in the room had turned their head to watch him. And the tables closest to theirs are always void of people.

The Cullens are always alone. It's like an invisible forcefield is around them at all times. No one ever passes the invisible line. I can't tell if that bothers them or not. They never go out of their way to include themselves with others. As someone who's used to constantly moving around, I can understand their reluctance to waste energy on people who, eventually, won't matter. But even so, I can't imagine being completely isolated like that.

"How long have you stayed in Forks?" I ask.

"Two years," Edward answers. I gawk at him.

"Two years?"

They've managed to keep their secrets hidden for that long? One year is barely even possible for my family! Two is just… inconceivable. I suppose keeping to yourself all the time would certainly cut back the number of incidents with Norms. But not making any friends at all for two years? I'm not sure anyone in my family could manage it.

Even during our shortest stays, we all find someone to connect with. Even Chris makes a friend or two. If we were stuck with just ourselves for that long, we'd all go insane and try to kill each other. I'm sure of it. But still… two years is pretty tempting.

"Wow," I breath aloud. "That's amazing."

"Is it?" Alice asks lifting a brow.

"That's right," Edward says, realization dawning on him. "Forks is your fourth high school."

Alice and I stare at him in surprise. Her at the information, me at the fact he remembered that at all. Alice turns to me.

"This is your fourth high school?" she asks. "But you're a junior, too, right? Four high schools the past three years?"

"Well, it's only October, so technically just two years." I look between the two of them, still in awe. "Two years… Wow." I shake my head. "You guys are lucky."

The Cullens' faces become hard to read. There are hints of guilt or possibly surprise mixed into their smooth features. It's hard to tell what they're thinking, but being "lucky" probably isn't part of it. Before I can ask anything, Coach Clapp calls the room to attention and the soccer games commence.

When Lauren and I meet up outside the locker room, I tell her I want to wait for Alice. She gives me an uncomfortable look but quietly agrees. Alice comes out a few seconds later. She smiles at me.

"You didn't have to wait for me, Amethyst."

"It's no problem."

Lauren says nothing. Alice turns to her.

"Hi, Lauren," she chirps.

Lauren looks a little surprised, like maybe she didn't think Alice knew her name. She gets over it quickly and manages a small, nonchalant, "Hey."

The three of us walk down the hall together, myself in the middle. It's a little awkward. Mostly because Lauren keeps moving further and further away from us. When I catch her attention, she blinks at the space between us, like she hadn't even realized she'd moved that far, and comes closer again. Alice either doesn't notice this or doesn't care. She bounds down the hall so joyfully I half expect her to start singing and dancing.

Her eyes go a little foggy as we enter the cafeteria. I hold her arm as a precaution, ignoring the feeling of Lauren's stare. As she comes out of it, Alice giggles. I raise a brow at her. She puts her head down innocently but her smile stays in place.

Lauren goes first in the lunch line. I expect to go next, but Alice skips a few feet ahead of me. She spins around on the ball of her foot with a large smile in place. It gets a bit bigger as she looks over my shoulder.

"Oh, hey, Edward." Her eyes glimmer. "I didn't see you there."

My head turns just fast enough to catch him frowning at his sister as he walks towards us before it shifts into something more suspicious. He greets her cautiously. Alice says nothing more and simply focuses on grabbing a tray and moving leisurely through the line.

I raise a brow and shake my head at her actions before turning to Edward and giving him a small smile. "Hello again, Edward."

"Hello, Amethyst." He returns a soft smile of his own. His quickly sends a sharp glare over my shoulder at Alice, who is innocently deciding between a turkey and vegetarian sandwich.

He sends his scowl to the food in front of us. Occasionally, the two Cullens will send each other little looks over my head. I stay out of it as much as I can but my lips keep twitching with snickers.

Clearing my throat, I grab my usual slice of pizza. Edward grabs one, too. Ah, so he does like pizza. Wonderful! I smile over at him, breaking the little staring contest he's got going on with his sister. Unsurprisingly, he is completely lost as to why I'm smiling at him. I chuckle and go back to the food.

I avoid looking at the pasta covered in an unidentifiable chunky brown sauce and briefly glance at the messy basin of mashed potatoes. I grab a little baggie of carrots and a milk carton. Reaching the checkout, I stare at the packets of ranch dressing and the tempting tray of cookies. Both cost extra.

In the grand scheme of things, another $1.75 doesn't seem like much. But when you only have so much money for a week's worth of lunches… it adds up. Something Dale is incapable of understanding. He always buys more food than he needs on Mondays and Tuesdays and is almost always broke by Thursday. Luckily for him, his zombie hoard is always willing to help feed him. Chris and I only ever have just enough money to make it through the week and, after a life of this, we no longer have any sympathy for his begging.

The man at the counter rings up my pizza, carrots, and milk while I eye the kid behind Edward swiping three cookies from the display. Even Edward takes one. With a jealous frown, I pay the man and pick up my tray.

"Wait." Edward takes the cookie from his tray and hands it out to me. "Here. My treat."

"Oh, no, I couldn't," I say shaking my head. I must've been staring longer than I thought. "Thank you though."

"I insist," he says still offering it.

I glance down at the cookie, then over at the man behind the register staring at us like his favorite soap opera just came on. He quickly goes back to ringing up Edward's tray: pizza, fries, an apple, a cup of fruit, a juice, and the cookie. He gives Edward his total — which is double my daily budget.

"Here," Edward says again after he pays. "Really, I want you to have it."

"Alright, alright, if you insist." I take it with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Edward."

He smiles and nods before following his sister to their usual table. I go to mine where Lauren sits, staring at me wide-eyed, not touching her food.

"Are you two really not dating?" she asks once I side beside her. Her face is a mixture of bewilderment and curiosity. She isn't asking to pry or out of jealousy. She genuinely seems curious to know what's going on, but even so, I can't help but sigh.

"Et Tu, Lauren?"

She scoffs. "Don't let Mrs. Goff hear that terrible pronunciation."

"Mrs. Who?"

"Goff. Aren't you taking Spanish?"

"No, I tested out of Latin a few schools ago. I was quoting Shakespeare."

Lauren stares at me. After a moment, she says, "Well, either way, you didn't answer my question."

I sigh again. "No, Edward and I aren't dating," I tell her earnestly. "We're just friends."

"Friends with the Cullens," she mumbles. Her expression pinches like she's tasted something sour. "Why? How? They don't like anybody."

"Strange—" I stop myself. Strange understands strange is not something to say when you're trying to help a friend hold on to a two-year streak. "Stranger things have happened, I'm sure," I amend with a shrug.

Lauren shrugs as well. Our table slowly starts to fill with the usual people. Mike sits next to me and pulls out his math book, asking if I can go over today's material with him. Agreeing, he scoots his chair closer to me and I shift mine to face him a little better.

When Jessica finally shows up, she doesn't say a word. She just sets down her tray across from Mike and I then leaves. Me, him, and Tyler all look at each other uncertainly while Lauren and Angela share a knowing glance.

We watch Jessica go over to my brother's table and start talking. Dale flickers his gaze over to me then back to Jessica and nods with a charming smile. He gathers his things and stands, sends an apologetic grin to his usual hoard of girls, then follows Jessica back over to our table and sits next to her. I blink at her, confused, then to Dale.

He raises a brow at me, not knowing why I'm confused, while Jessica pulls out her English book.

"Thank you so much for helping me, Dale," she says sweetly, fluttering her eyes. "I was going to ask Amethyst or Mike but, obviously, they're a little busy."

"Ask what?" Mike says looking between the two of them.

"Ask you to help me with my English homework," Jessica says barely looking at him. "But you're with Amethyst now, so I asked Dale instead."

Dale glances back at me, easing open our connection. She said you told her I was an English ace and to go ask if I would be willing to help.

I quirk a brow as I eat the remainder of my pizza crust. I vaguely remember telling Jess during one of her sets of 20 questions that Dale was good at English, but I didn't tell her to go talk to him. She hadn't even spoken to anyone before going to get him.

Dale grimaces a little. On the outside, he nods along as she tells him her instructions. Between him and me, he thinks, Oh, great. I think we've stepped into a lovers spat. He glances over at Mike, who is frowning at the math book in front of him and muttering something. He's talking to you, Sunshine.

I blink out of our inner conversation and put up a light barrier between Dale's thoughts and mine. Dale can easily interact with people and what's going on around him even when our connection is at its strongest. Me? I can barely register anything other than our thoughts. The outside world goes quiet and dim until I drag myself back into the moment. It's not fair.

Of course, Dale thinks it's perfectly fair. He can't pick up on my mind as easily as I can his when our connection is dulled. To him, it only makes sense that my head can't focus on anything else when the frequency is heightened. Personally, he thinks it's a reflection of his superior intellect.

I snort.

Listen to your friend, Sunshine, Dale reminds me, breaking through my flimsy defenses. You just insulted him.

I snap my head to Mike, blinking back into the moment, who looks surprised. "Sorry, did you say something, Mike? I was thinking about how stupid my brother is."

Rude.

I throw a glare at Dale then force my walls up.

"—ink we could get together after school today?"

"After school?" I repeat. "Today?"

Mike nods, smiling. "Yeah. You know. A study date? I'm kind of struggling here," he says with a chuckle.

"Oh. Yeah, um… I don't think I can. I have work right after school today."

"You work?" Jessica asks, surprised. "Where?"

"Deb's Diner, just up the highway. Just started last night."

"Why?"Her tone borders on an accusation. Something she quickly tries to right by smiling. "You only just moved here!" she says in a more playful tone.

I shrug. "Christmas is just a few months away. Every penny counts."

"It's not even Halloween!"

"Almost," I say sharing a grin with Dale. "Just two weeks away!"

"Do you like Halloween?" Angela asks.

"Of course I do! Who doesn't?"

"Well, you know, I always have a party on Halloween night. You and your fam could come if you wanted," Mike says sending a pleasant grin to Dale. "It starts at my place but we all end up at First Beach for some scary stories around a bonfire."

Dale glances over at me, our thoughts one and the same. Halloween, also called All Hallows Eve and Samhain, is the Witch's New Year and the beginning of the dark times. It's also the day when the veil between worlds is at its thinnest. It can be a very dangerous time but also one of heightened awareness. Perhaps most importantly, it's a day to celebrate family and all those who came before. Because of all these things, our family has a very strict rule: whatever we do on Halloween, we have to do it together. I am especially not allowed to be alone. At all.

Dale and I shrug. "We'll see. We've got to ask the other two." We share an annoyed look, but Mike just nods.

"Sure, just let me know."

"If I go, can I invite some other friends too?" Dale asks eyeing his senior girls.

"Of course! Pretty much all the juniors and seniors will be there anyway but go ahead. We just need to make sure we clean up the beach when we leave."

"Will the Cullens be there?" I ask. The table goes silent. Dale – who hasn't yet figured out that the Cullens are the most popular pariahs this side of Utah – glances around curiously.

"Is there… something wrong with the Cullens being there?" He speaks carefully. Somewhere between the verge of defensiveness and concern.

"No," Lauren answers for the table. "Nothing wrong with it. They just don't go to parties."

"Not unless it's, like, prom or homecoming or something like that," Jessica supplies.

"Does anyone ever invite them?" I ask. Everyone at the table glances at one another. No one's really sure how to answer which tells me right away. "Could we invite them?"

Mike clears his throat a little, looking kind of uncomfortable. "I mean, yeah, I guess. Anyone can come. It's pretty much a public beach, anyway, so…"

"We should make sure we're going first, though, Sunshine," Dale tells me. "It'd be pretty rude to invite someone then not show up yourself."

"Yeah, definitely do that first," Mike says nodding and moving his seat a smidge away from me.

The bell rings shortly after that. A spell seems to lift from the table at the sound. The heavy blanket of awkwardness casts itself away as everyone rises. Mike thanks me for the math lesson with a nod before walking off. Jessica thanks Dale by wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing herself against him. Lauren rolls her eyes and grabs Angela by the arm before huffing off.

I gag and pack up my things as quickly as possible. The display of affection itself isn't really that bad. Dale's smug, giddy, and very boyish thoughts, however, are insufferable. Fast as I can, I throw my bag over my shoulder and grab my cookie. I bring it to my mouth and turn for my usual exit when—

IS THAT A COOKIE?!

"Gah!" I yelp and grab at the sides of my head. Dale's thought rings painfully loud in my skull, spreading from temple to temple.

Shit, sorry, sorry!

"Are you okay, Amethyst?" someone outside our head asks. The sound is garbled but still unbearably loud. I press harder against my head. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to set Dale and whoever it is aflame.

Sorry, Am. The thought is very soft and light, almost like a whisper. You and Chris just always give me such a hard time when I buy extra things like that, so I—

But I didn't buy it! Edward bought it and gave it to me!

Dale's thoughts pause. Someone on the outside rubs my back. I immediately know it's Dale because his mind becomes even more conjoined with mine.

Together, we re-watch Edward pick up the cookie and his dazzling smile once I accept it. Part of our mind focuses on the cookie itself and the transaction; how kind it was of Edward, how polite. He really is a nice guy. The other focuses on Edward's eyes and grin. He's undeniably handsome. His happiness sparkles like a rare gem. There's a glowing feeling followed by giddiness. Then anxiety.

It's too hard to tell who is who, who's focusing on what, what feelings are whose, who's thoughts are directing our mind to go one way or the other. One of us doesn't like this and wants to put the wall back up between us. The other doesn't necessarily dislike it but agrees that getting stuck like this again would not be good.

Something outside me forces my body to move forward. A part of me catches on something and I stumble. A soft weight clings to my torso carefully guide me forward. It takes several hard moments of blinking and staring into nothingness for the world, and my body, to come back to me.

I'm in Mrs. Taylor's room. I'd been pushed in from behind. My foot must have caught on the entryway and made me trip. The guiding force is a pair of hands on my shoulders leading me to a desk.

"M'fine," I gurgle out. Lowering my hands from my temples, only a small piece of my cookie is still there, crushed into pieces.

"Are you sure?" Jessica's voice surprises me. She lifts her hands off me as I turn my head to look at her. "Your brother said it might take a while for you to come out of it. What was that? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say rubbing my head.

Taking a seat I stare down at my broken cookie. Slowly I take a bite and look up at Jessica. Her eyes are wide, waiting for some kind of answer. With a sigh, I realize I'm not getting out of this one. I slap the chair-desk next to me. She rushes to sit and scooches closer to me.

"So, first, let's avoid any repeats: what exactly did Dale tell you?"

"He said sometimes you get really bad headaches all of a sudden. That it makes it really hard for you to focus on anything else for a minute or two but then they go away."

"Anything else?" I ask finishing off my crumbs. Whatever story he gave her, I want to make sure to stick to it as closely as possible.

She shrugs. "Not really. He walked us to class and asked me to get you to a chair. He told me you'd come out of it in a few seconds and not to worry too much."

I nod and glare down at the floor. I have no memory of any of this. It pisses me off that Dale has so much control over himself even when our consciousnesses are so dangerously close together. What the hell was he even thinking, touching me when our defenses were completely down like that? He knows how dangerous that is so what the hell!

What even was the point? Was he so curious to see if I was telling the truth about Edward buying the cookie that he would put our minds in danger like that? Did he not believe me and just want an excuse to call me a liar? No, I know he believed me. He knew I was being honest because our minds were already open to one another. I would've had to think about lying to lie to him and he would've caught me. What the hell did he need to see, need to experience from my own point of view, that could excuse throwing our heads in a loop like that, without warning, in front of a school full of Norms?

Something moves rapidly in front of my face. I jolt back from it only to realize it's Jessica's hand.

"Amethyst? Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to bring you to the nurse's office?"

"No, no. It's fine." I put my hand over my eyes for a moment then set it down. "It's normal for me to be really… out of it after one of my… headaches. It'll pass, though. I'll be fine. I might just need you to repeat whatever Mrs. Taylor says at the end of class, if that's okay?"

Jessica nods. "So I guess this happens a lot, huh?"

"Usually not this bad," I say with a sigh, "but every once and a while, yeah."

"Didn't you have a headache last week, too? And yesterday?"

I turn to her in surprise. "Did I?"

"The first one might've been the week before last. I'm not sure. But you definitely had one yesterday at lunch. I was sitting right next to you, remember? You nearly dropped your pizza."

Ah, yes. Of course the Gossip Queen would remember. Dale was so excited about the idea of Edward and I possibly dating he decided to break into my brain. Damn him for nearly making me drop my pizza. In fact, damn him for swiping my consciousness out from under me, too!

Knowing full well that the universe is going to get me back for it, I send a curse after Dale. Nothing big. Nothing that would actually hurt him or wind up the karmic forces of the universe too too much. But it's definitely going to make the rest of his week a bitch.

"Am?"

I look up at Jessica. The slight relief in her eyes tells me she only had to call my name once.

"Do you remember?" she asks again and I nod.

"Yeah, sorry. Just cursing my brother," I tell her honestly. "I hate when he tells people about my headaches," I lie. "I hate making people worry over nothing."

"Is it really nothing?" she presses. I frown realizing it isn't out of concern but a desire for gossip.

"Yes, it's really nothing. Dale gets them too. You'll see."

I'll make sure of it.


.

.

.

Sorry for the long wait! School and work both started back up for me in September so time for writing has been few and far between. Updates are likely going to take a while for some time but they will come!

24 pages for you this time! Hope it made up for the wait!

As always, please leave a review. I love hearing from you. Even a simple "Can't wait for more!" makes my whole day! And anything more than that just makes me feel #blessed.