9.

The girls chattered incessantly as we left Forks. I reminded myself that they were being very kind by inviting me to go on their shopping spree and that it was an opportunity to leave the house unsupervised. I was expecting several hours of freedom, although I acknowledged sadly that I was rather chained to a group of babbling teenagers during this "freedom."

I sat in the backseat with Angela, who thankfully is capable of making conversation outside fashion and boys. Angela was going to the dance with Eric, a guy I found very chess club but at least very friendly. But after I asked her who she was going with out of politeness she steered the conversation toward slightly more interesting things.

We ended up discussing some novel she was reading, actually. I recognized it as being one that Ben had been trying to get me to read.

"Hmm.. My friend Ben keeps telling me to read that," I told her. "Which is why I don't. There's a good chance if Ben suggests it that it's quite girly."

She laughed, "Oh it isn't! It's great, you should check it out."

Conversation with Angela was easy, thankfully so I barely noticed the time go by. Very soon we were there. Jessica drove us past a number of charming boutiques and straight to a large department store.

"Alright, ladies, let's get in and out as fast as possible," I declared as we entered.

They laughed. "Hush," Jessica said, "This is a process."

Oh no.

Angela knew what looked best on her and settled on a dress rather quickly. I was relieved for that much, at least.

Jessica quickly narrowed it down to two dresses and it was quite easy to see which one looked better on her.

"Oh, I'm so good at this," I said, and generally got laughed at once more.

Lauren was another story. She found one dress that was quite tasteful, in my limited opinion, but just had to keep sifting through more until she found "the one." I didn't get it, really, she'd already found a decent one, so I thought we should be out the door by then.

"Oh, this one, for sure!" Lauren's voice came from the dressing room.

Such was my thought process: Great! We'll be out of here... oh hell no.

"Um, I might just be, you know... a boy who knows shit all about fashion, but that's fucking ugly."

Lauren looked appalled. "It's awesome!"

The "dress" was sort of a scrap of fabric that... kind of covered her chest and her ass. But not really.

"I can assure, 100%, that Tyler would not find that attractive."

"Well why the hell not?"

"I... I mean, I'm a regular guy. I love checking out chicks. But..." I struggled to find the words to explain what I was thinking. At least, words nicer than the ones that came to mind. Which were: You look like a prostitute, and not even a high class one. "I didn't think I'd ever see the day when I saw a girl... in an outfit that I consider too slutty. But that day has come."

Laren gaped at me. "It looks... bad?"

"It looks..." I floundered and looked to Jessica and Angela for help. They looked away, I think trying not to laugh. "I just think that... um. You know what's sexy? Confidence and self-respect." Yes, I pulled the self-respect trick. Girls dig that shit.

Lauren considered this. It was then that Angela piped up, saying, "I liked the red one."

"Yes," Jessica agreed quickly. "The red one was perfect."

Lauren grabbed the dress in question and headed back into the changing room to try it on again. When the door closed behind her I exchanged horrified glances with the other two. Jessica made shooing motions and said, "Well now that we've found our dresses we'll move on to shoes or something... We might go clothes shopping. You don't have to stick around if you don't want."

I got the feeling she was sending me away so that Lauren could bitch in private about me calling her dress of choice slutty. I was quite grateful, actually. We agreed to meet at a restaurant across the street in an hour and a half. Angela quietly gave me some directions to a nearby book store, for which I was glad, but once I got outside into the fresh air all I felt like doing was walking.

I hadn't realized how stir crazy I was going in Charlie's house until I was actually faced with the opportunity to just walk around wherever I pleased.

I wandered.

The sky was darkening as I strolled aimlessly, doing nothing but sifting through my thoughts. A week ago I'd been distracting myself and sleeping to avoid thinking, or letting my obsession over Edward Cullen flourish just to avoid the memories of Phoenix and everything that had happened there. Now thinking of Cullen made me terrified and unsure. Was it possible that he was a vampire? Yes, I'd definitely decided that I believed that part. But there was more... he had known what I was talking about that day with Mr. White. And he had known more than that; I remembered his facial expression as he stared intently at Mr. White before he'd gently implied I'd be better partnering up with Cullen. Edward. I supposed we were on a first name basis now.

After all, I had seemed to uncover his deepest, darkest secret. I snickered at the thought, and was surprised to hear it gently echoed. I glanced up, not having realized how completely silent things were until the calm was broken. I took a quick look over my shoulder. Four guys were meandering along behind me, laughing together about something.

I took stock of my surroundings and became aware that I seemed to have entered the warehouse district. I didn't see and lit streets or buildings, just massive steel walls and empty pavement. I sighed and kicked a pebble across the street, turning the corner and hoping I found my way back soon. Turning a corner, I glanced at my watch and cringed to see that more time had passed than I'd intended to allow before heading back to meet the girls.

I strained my ears for the sounds of city– or at least town– life, but all I heard was my footsteps. And theirs. I frowned. A subtle peek backwards showed that two of the guys from before were still behind me. A chill spread through my body just beneath my ribs. What were the chances that they were headed the same direction as me, rounding the same corners... for innocent purposes? Especially considering I had no idea where I was going.

My steps faltered, but I forced myself to walk on even as I felt myself begin to shake and my breathing speed up.

Maybe they're muggers, I told myself a bit desperately, more than willing to hand over my wallet and my debit card and hell, I would tell them the PIN, they could take it all... but somehow I didn't think I was that lucky.

I turned another corner and was relieved to see a slightly busier street up ahead. Admittedly, it was farther than I was comfortable with, but I could make it. I had to.

But not far down the street I saw two more men emerge from an alley. I froze to the spot, understanding suddenly that I wasn't being followed. I was being herded.

Maybe I should have tried some desperate escape plan. I couldn't. All I could do was close my eyes and wait for it to end.

I felt all the energy drain from my body; every day that had passed since I'd arrived to Forks, everything I'd gone through to get away from Phoenix, seemed worthless.

Why me? I wondered, pulling in a shuddering breath and finding that it hurt, it fucking hurt just to breathe. I wanted to die. Anything but this. I couldn't handle this again. I couldn't–

My eyelids swam with the red brightness that suggests a light in your face. I heard a car squealing to a stop and then a familiar voice saying, "Get in."

I opened my eyes slowly. I saw Edward's face– a mask of terrible, primal anger– through the passenger door, which he'd already thrown open. He looked frightening. But nothing was as frightening as the idea of going through the hell I'd suffered eight months ago again.

I flung myself into the front seat and pulled the door shut, covering my face with my hands. The car immediately accelerated as Edward peeled away down the street.

"Char?" he asked after a long stretch of silence. Of course, I only called it silence out of abject shame. I was having a breakdown in Edward Cullen's car. The car was filled with the sound of my gasped, choked sobs. I felt the car stop. Edward's hand gently touched the back of my hand. I could feel the hesitance of the slow brush of his ice-cold fingers over my skin. I flinched away, horrified at the idea of another person touching me, putting their hands on my body, and–

But then it occurred to me, in a sudden revelatory fashion, that Edward had saved me. I had literally been walking through my worst nightmare all over again, except this time it hadn't been a horrible memory replaying itself, it had been real, and this time the face of my attacker was different. But, like in my dreams lately, Edward Cullen had been there.

Emotion can be a dangerous thing. If my past had been different, perhaps I wouldn't have reacted the way I did. But suddenly Edward Cullen was like a god to me; even my best friends, who I loved so dearly and who stood by me so fiercely after I'd gone through everything I had– but that was just it. They'd been there afterward, and I was so grateful, but Edward had been there in time to stop it.

I was overwhelmingly, overpoweringly grateful and admiring of him.

I threw my arms around Edward's neck, and he stiffened, likely thinking me psychotic. I admit the incoherent babbling and crying probably didn't help my case.

"Thank you," I managed to choke, and tried several times to string together a sentence, but I'm sure it sounded like gibberish. I barely managed to get five words in a proper sequence before my mouth started betraying me and throwing out unrelated words.

Edward's arms tightened around me briefly, and it was that gesture that brought me back to my senses. I pulled away, hastily wiping my face of stray tears.

I breathed deeply for a few moments.

Edward was staring at me wide-eyed. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"What?" I croaked.

"Are you hungry? You should eat. Honestly, I'm worried you may go into shock."

"Edward, I'm not going into shock over nothing."

He gave me an incredulous look.

"Really, it was nothing," I told him quietly, before he could say anything. "Thanks to you," I added. "But, yes, I am hungry. I promised the girls I would go to dinner with them."

Edward drew in a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I– alright. Yes."

He started the car, and pulled smoothly out of the empty parking lot we'd been parked in. I noticed that his fingers were clenched tightly around the steering wheel, and his shoulders were set very stiffly.

"Are you alright?" I asked him curiously.

"Am I alright? I–" Edward looked at me sideways and stopped suddenly, expression bleak. "No, I'm not alright," he said curtly. "I've never been so upset in my life. I just– God, when I heard what they were going to do... It's all I can do not to hunt them down and–"

Edward cut himself off again, pulling onto the main strip. My mind was whirring with the implications of what he had said. He'd heard? What did he mean? I thought of the things he seemed to have overheard between Mr. White and I...

But my thoughts were quickly cut off. He stopped the car at the curb and I saw that Angela, Jessica, and Lauren were walking down the street a few feet ahead. I glanced quickly in the side mirror. I looked like I'd been crying or something. Which I had.

"I'm ill," I told Edward.

"What?" he asked, sounding horrified.

"I'm ill," I told him tersely between gritted teeth and opened the car door with maybe more force than was necessary.

"Char?" I heard Angela ask, surprised to see me getting out of a random car probably.

Edward got out from the front seat and the girls' jaws all dropped open.

He smiled blandly.

"We ran into each other," I told them, my voice horribly scratchy.

"You look... awful," Lauren muttered, staring at me.

"Yes," Edward cut in. "When I ran into him downtown he was quite ill."

"Oh my gosh, are you alright?" Angela asked.

"It passed," I muttered. "It was one of those weird hour long stomach things."

"Those are the worst," Jessica said, but her concentration seemed more on Edward than on me.

Edward hummed in agreement. "Actually, since he was sick, Char should eat. Have you eaten dinner yet?"

The girls looked shamed for a moment. "You were late..." Angela said, trailing off.

"It's no problem, really. I'll find something. I was late. Sorry."

"Yes, but you were sick, and now I feel so bad," she added with a weak laugh.

"Really, it isn't a problem."

"It's just... it's getting dark and we don't have time to really go somewhere else, unless you're cool with fast food or something?" Jessica offered.

"Considering you've just been ill," Edward cut in before I could agree, "Perhaps you should eat something a bit more substantial. I can drive you home."

"I–" I had a feeling arguing would get you nowhere. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

The three girls nodded, and scurried off down the street after wishing goodnight to both me and Edward.

He jerked his head to the side. "Italian ok?"

I glanced up into the sign hanging above the door in front of us. La Bella Italia.

"Yeah, it's fine," I told him, my voice surprisingly even despite the turmoil within me.

I paid little attention as the waitress led us to our table. I was vaguely aware that she ended up bringing us to a second table after she'd already headed in one direction, but I didn't care much.

I slid into the booth and perused the menu with disinterest. I realized that both Edward and the waitress– a different girl from the one who had led us to the table– were staring at me, and tried to think of the words they'd been speaking, which had only vaguely filtered through my head before.

"Oh? Uh, I'll have a Coke."

"I'll have the same," Edward told her.

I closed the menu, deciding on the mushroom ravioli. It wouldn't make much of a difference anyway. I realized very suddenly that I was starving. I would eat whatever they set in front of me.

After copying down my order, she smiled flirtatiously at Edward and walked away, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked.

I looked up into his brilliant golden eyes. "I'm fine, Edward. Really, I... What happened, honestly, was nothing."

"Nothing," Edward repeated blandly. "That was not nothing, Char." His voice was severe now, and harsher than I expected.

"Edward– It..." I trailed off, examining the wooden grain of the table. "This isn't a big deal, since you were there to help me. I've been through worse than an attempted rape, Edward."

I hoped that he understood the inflections of that and let the situation drop.

When I looked back into his face, it was agonized. I surmised that he did, in fact, understand what I was telling him.

Before he could say something, I changed topics. "So, can I voice a theory, or will you be angry?"

"A theory about what?" Edward asked begrudgingly, clearly put out that I was switching subjects. But I was glad that he had the sensitivity not to push the issue. It wasn't something I enjoyed talking about. Or telling people about.

In fact I wasn't sure why I'd told him, why I thought I could trust him with that knowledge. My parents didn't even know.

I forced my thoughts to the side abruptly.

"About what you are," I murmured.

Edward's gaze tightened for a moment. "What I am... I don't think you want to know," he whispered.

"I think I already do know."

"No." Edward's eyes became closeted, almost blank. "You don't. Otherwise you wouldn't be here with me. You don't understand, Char, I'm not possibly what you think. I know..." Edward scoffed. "In your eyes I must seem like a hero."

"You are," I said, quirking an eyebrow. "That's twice now, actually, that you've... saved me." My lips twitched; suddenly I was aware that I had been behaving like a damsel in distress, and it was moderately embarrassing.

"I'm not a hero, Char. Have you ever considered that maybe... I'm one of the bad guys?"

I scoffed. "You might be dangerous, Edward–"

"I am."

"Yes, I know. But I refuse to believe that you're evil."

Our conversation was cut off just then by the waitress' return with my food. I quickly ate several mouthfuls, internally chuckling at the blatant innuendos she was making toward Edward while asking if she could get him anything else.

She left looking disappointed.

"So," I spoke up after shoveling several bites into my mouth. "Since you seem rather touchy on the subject... perhaps I'll start with one of my lighter theories. Tell me, hypothetically if one were to read minds, how would they go about doing that? What are the limitations? And... how would that person know to find someone else, at exactly the right time?"

Edward furrowed his brow and we sat in silence. I wondered if I had been wrong. But– the things he'd said earlier, I thought...

"You're far more observant than I realized," he finally muttered. "Too observant, actually." Then he sat up and smiled blandly. "Hypothetically..." His facial expression hardened into one of barely concealed fury. "If this mind reader had been paying more attention, the timing wouldn't have had to be so exact." He sighed, shaking his head, and then added softly, "I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner."

"This was a hypothetical case," I reminded him, my voice think. "And I told you–"

"That wasn't... nothing. If you had been able to walk away from it without breaking down completely, I might believe you. Just because you left in time doesn't mean it didn't affect you. It clearly did. And I wish I'd been there sooner. You clearly aren't over-"

"Edward, stop." I knew what he was about to say and regretted my broad hint dropping earlier. "Stop... guilting yourself."

He let out a gusty sigh. "I should have been paying better attention. It's just... only you could find trouble in a town so small. It might have–"

He cut himself off suddenly. I got the feeling he was holding himself back from saying something that might offend me. Part of me was angry that he was treating me like some frail creature that needed to be protected... another part of me remembered thinking why me, and hated the fact that he was right. I did seem to attract more trouble than I was worth.

Ugh. I swallowed angrily and stared at the table so he wouldn't see the hurt I was sure had taken over my features.

We sat in silence. I ate, more slowly now, and drank my Coke. Edward pushed his toward me when I was finished.

"I suppose you consider yourself part of that?" I asked.

"Part of what?"

I smiled weakly. "The trouble I attract."

"Unequivocally."

I snorted and wanted to mock his use of that word when he could have just said yes, but I didn't.

"Well, you seem to do more to help me than to hurt me. You knew how to find me..." I prompted again, wanting to lead our conversation out of the darkness we seemed to have fallen into.

"It's harder than it should be — keeping track of you. Usually I can find someone very easily, once I've heard their mind before." He looked at me anxiously, and I realized I had frozen. I made myself swallow, then stabbed another ravioli and tossed it in.

"Yes... I was keeping tabs on Angela, not carefully — like I said, only you could find trouble in Port Angeles — and at first I didn't notice when you took off on your own. Then, when I realized that you weren't with her anymore, I went looking for you at the bookstore I saw in her head. I could tell that you hadn't gone in, and that you'd gone south… and I knew you would have to turn around soon. So I was just waiting for you, randomly searching through the thoughts of people on the street — to see if anyone had noticed you so I would know where you were. I had no reason to be worried… but I was strangely anxious…" He was lost in thought, staring past me, seeing things I couldn't imagine.

"I started to drive in circles, still… listening. The sun was finally setting, and I was about to get out and follow you on foot. And then —" He stopped, clenching his teeth together in sudden fury. He made an effort to calm himself.

"Then what?" I whispered. He continued to stare over my head.

"I heard what they were thinking," he growled, his upper lip curling slightly back over his teeth. "I saw your face in his mind." He suddenly leaned forward, one elbow appearing on the table, his hand covering his eyes. The movement was so swift it startled me.

"Edward," I soothed. "Relax."

"Relax?" he snapped. "It was hard– so hard... not to get out of the car, when you were getting in. I wanted to crush them."

We sat in silence. Edward was so still, face in hand, that I almost thought he may have been carved from stone. I found that my appetite was suddenly much less than it had been.

Finally he looked up, his eyes seeking mine, full of his own questions.

"Are you ready to go home?" he asked.

"I– yes. Let's go."

Edward summoned the waitress and ignored her flirting, as he had been all night. He paid before I had a chance to protest and was leading me from the restaurant even as I bridled angrily at being coddled.

I quickly fiddled with the heat setting as we got in the car, not particularly caring if Edward liked it set a certain way. I was quite angry with him, just then.

"Sorry, I don't need heat or anything, so it slips my mind sometimes that you might," he murmured, and his voice sounded apologetic enough that I had to forgive him for being a prat in general, since I sensed that he didn't do it on purpose. I remembered what he had said that day in the parking lot at school: "believe it or not, I often try to be as bearable as possible. But I can't tell whether what I say at anytime will annoy you."

"I have one more question before I present my theories."

"What's that?" he asked.

"You can't... hear me, can you?"

Edward looked sideways at me, not paying attention to the freeway before us for a long time. His gaze was intense.

"No, I can't. I wonder why," he mused. "I think perhaps... it's like I can only pick up AM, and you run on FM."

"You're calling me a freak?" I grumbled.

"I've just told you I read minds and you're worried that you're the freak?" he laughed.

I relaxed at that. Perhaps he had a point.

"Oh, I have another question."

"You said just one more..."

"Well, here's another. You said... you were keeping tabs on Angela. What were you doing in Port Angeles?"

His expression became abashed. "I followed you to Port Angeles."

"What?"

He flinched. "I was worried." His voice was almost a whine. "I feel very... protective of you, and I was scared of you being hurt."

I wanted to be angry at that. I desperately wanted to insist that I was no damsel in need of rescuing. Really, I did. But given the way events had unfolded, I was only grateful.

He seemed to sense that when I sighed loudly without resorting to yelling.

"So," Edward said significantly, then, eyes on the road. "Your turn."