Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and concepts of the Twilight series. They are the sole creation and property of Stephenie Meyer.


Nine

If avoiding attention was my goal, I was failing at it miserably. My bandaged hand drew so many stares that I was tempted to name it. After explaining that I'd cut myself making dinner for the sixth time, I figured a name might at least make the story more interesting. At lunch, I gestured at Tyler on the other side of the table.

"I think my injury should have a nickname," I called once I'd gotten his attention.

He laughed, "I love my right hand but I don't think I'm going to name it."

"Don't be gross!" Jessica cried after nearly spitting out her Coke.

"Susan?" Mike asked, blue eyes narrow with thought. "Or can it be a boy? Stitches are tough—so Tyson?"

"Since when are stitches something only boys can get?" Angela asked coolly.

"If you can tell me another girl in this school besides Bella who's had them," Tyler replied.

"How about Priscilla?" Jessica asked.

I wrinkled my nose. "That's not bad…"

"Sugar Ray!" Mike cried, grinning excitedly. "Or Evander?"

"Hmm…I don't know about a boys' name…"

"Ooo, Tallulah," Angela suggested. "Tallulah Bankhead was pretty badass."

"Who?" Tyler asked, looking affronted.

"She was an actress--" Angela tried to explain.

"Naw, naw, it's gotta be Evander." Mike insisted.

"Actually, I kind of like Tallulah," I said, the name growing on me. I lifted my bandaged hand, smiling as I waved. "Meet Tallulah everyone!"

The bell rang and Angela and I rose to go to English. She was explaining that she and Eric were planning on playing Mr. Collins and Charlotte Lucas for the screenplay project. "But we're going to be graduate students who have never been in a relationship."

"That's genius, Angela." I was impressed.

We entered the class room and I smiled and waved at Edward as I took my seat. His expression didn't change, his gaze fixed straight forward as though he hadn't seen me. I frowned, knowing his green eyes had met mine, knowing I hadn't imagined the flicker in his gaze when I greeted him. I stared down at my desk, trying to deny the sudden hurt that I felt, the crushing feeling in my chest that was making it hard to breathe.

Edward continued to ignore me once class started. I didn't realize how I'd taken our easy camaraderie for granted, his sidelong smiles when Alice would say something silly, the sound of his voice when he agreed with something I'd said, his manner free and easy. Now that I was invisible again, now that I was like everyone else, I understood just how special it had felt.

When the bell rang, I jumped out of my seat, desperate to get as far away from him as possible. I hurried to gym only to have Coach Clapp excuse me from participating, left to sit on the bleachers with my thoughts. Any other day, I would have been grateful for the reprieve. But not today.

Because I didn't have to change, I was the first out of the door, rushing across the courtyard to the parking lot. My breath came in fierce gasps, the warmth forming clouds before my lips, not bothering to zip up my coat, immune to the cold.

It took all of my willpower to act normally around my dad that evening. I reminded myself that I had no reason to be so hurt, that we were just friends and barely that. My internal voice was stern, insisting that I couldn't be upset, that there was nothing to be upset about. So what if he'd ignored me? He was just treating me the way he treated everyone else. I shouldn't have expected the truce to last as long as it had, especially since he had more reason to dislike me over anyone else—I had insulted him and supplied his siblings with a cruel nickname.

It didn't help that because of my hand, my dad insisted on ordering pizza. I didn't even have cooking to distract me, sitting with him in silence as we finished our dinner. "I'll clean up, Bells."

"Okay." I didn't argue, knowing that would bring on questions I didn't have the answers to. After spending what seemed like an appropriate amount of time downstairs, I excused myself, murmuring I had studying to do.

Focusing was impossible but sleeping felt equally so. Even the hot water of a long shower didn't make me feel any better. When I finally turned out my desk lamp, I found myself staring into the darkness, rest eluding me.

I was exhausted when my alarm went off, the room still dark as I fumbled for the clock. I knew I had probably slept no more than four or five hours, sleep coming in snatches that simply didn't last.

I tugged the cord of the lamp on the nightstand, flinching when pain shot up my wrist, the stitches pulling with the movement. I swung my feet to the floor and blinked in the yellow glow, wishing for the warmth and light of Phoenix.

I stilled at the thought. This was the first time since the week of my arrival that I'd wanted to be back home. I frowned, a mix of anger and sadness welling in my throat, resenting the fact that Edward Cullen could so affect how I felt about…everything.

I gritted my teeth as I started to hesitate again over the meager contents of my closet. There was no reason to dwell on what I did or didn't wear—no one, least of all Edward, noticed my clothes. I wanted to scream, ripping a pair of jeans from their hanger and grabbing a cotton henley before heading to the bathroom. Of course, given everything else, my hair would refuse to look normal. Curls swirled around my cheeks, the heavy length wild around my shoulders. I vowed to go to Port Angeles to get a trim as I pulled it back with a frail rubber band before thundering down the stairs.

I threw on my rain coat, grabbed my school bag, opened the door, and froze. The world was coated in white, suddenly bright and lovely with a fresh layer of powdery snow. Though the sun hadn't fully risen, it seemed almost as bright as day with the reflective white glowing from every surface. I exhaled and felt a small smile tug at my lips as my breath formed a fleeting cloud. Squaring my shoulders, I willed myself to face the day bravely.

Despite taking my time on the road, careful in case the flurries of snow concealed any ice, I arrived at school a few minutes early. I hopped down carefully from the truck but my feet slid the moment they touched the ground. I sucked in a breath and steadied myself against the door of the truck, my good hand clenching the handle. I refused to consider wiping out while crossing the parking lot, as if failing to imagine it would make it so.

Grasping the strap of my messenger bag with my right hand, I started to walk towards the front entrance, each step deliberate, hoping the tread of my duck shoes was deep enough to keep me upright.

My head was bowed, my gaze fixed on my feet. When the rubber band at my nape snapped, sheafs of hair tumbled forward over my shoulders and into my eyes, momentarily blinding me. I gasped with surprise, slowing my pace as I tried to push my hair back with my good hand. My feet chose that moment to find a patch of ice, abruptly flying from beneath me. I threw my hands forward to break my fall and gasped as I smacked into the cold ground.

"Bella!?" I couldn't breathe, the wind knocked from me, my vision pinpricked with points of light as my body registered the pain.

Firm hands were on my forearms, lifting me up bodily from the ground. I tossed my head, shaking my hair away from my face, staring in surprise at Edward's frantic eyes. "Edward?" I said dumbly, then grimaced as lightening shot through my hand.

"You must have torn your stitches." He was already leading me back across the lot. I glanced down and saw the white bandage stained with blood. I sagged, my head suddenly light and threatening to float away. He snaked an arm around my waist, bracing me against his side, practically carrying me across the concrete.

"No," I murmured as I realized we were approaching his car. Edward glanced at me, his expression disbelieving and annoyed. "No, not in your car," I tried to insist. If I threw up, if I bled on his car—I'd already ruined his coat. I tried to twist against his side but his arm was like a vice.

"My car is faster," he said through gritted teeth.

"But…if I bleed in your car--" I was still squirming, the motion making me suddenly aware of how unyielding his body felt next to mine.

"It doesn't matter."

Edward opened the passenger door and lowered me into the seat. He crouched down, buckling the seat belt before shutting the door with a soft click. He was in the driver's seat a moment later, his green eyes flickering over my wan face with worry. "My rubber band broke," I tried to explain.

"What?" Edward sounded confused.

"My rubber band broke when I was trying to walk."

"And walking is definitely a challenge for you," he teased. I smiled weakly, suddenly registering that he was talking to me.

"It broke and my hair came loose. It was in my eyes." I sighed, staring down at my bandaged hand. It hurt. "I have too much hair."

"Your hair is beautiful," he said softly.

I turned to look at him but his eyes were on the road, his jaw tense as we approached the hospital.

I knew I was light headed, my stomach lurching at the faint smell of blood in the enclosed space. But I didn't care, speaking my thoughts out loud. "I'm glad you're talking to me again." My voice was faint but I knew he heard me, his jaw tensing, the muscle there jumping.

In the emergency room the nurse just laughed at my woebegone expression, urging me to take a seat while she paged the doctor. Her gaze was stern when she turned to Edward, a plump hand settling on her hip. "Since you don't look like you're going anywhere, why don't you make yourself useful and get her some ice to chew on. It'll keep her mind off the blood and help with the nausea." He nodded curtly and took my arm, his grip firm but gentle as he led me to a chair.

"I'll be right back, okay?" I nodded, gazing up into his pale face, wishing I could smooth away the worry furrowing his brow.

I stared down at my hand, trying to be reassured that the blood stain under the bandage wasn't spreading very quickly. "Poor Tallulah," I murmured, closing my eyes as I fought off a wave of nausea.

"Tallulah?" Edward was back more quickly than I expected, sinking into the chair at my side.

"I named my cut," I smiled weakly as he placed a cup filled with ice in my good hand.

"Not something tougher?" he asked, smiling back.

"You sound like Mike and Tyler," I sighed. I caught the frown that passed over his pale face before his features smoothed.

"Dr. Cullen will see you now." The nurse approached before I could ask Edward about it. I bit my lip. I had a lot I wanted to ask him about.

I followed her down the hall, chewing on the ice as she led me to a room and gestured for me to sit on the cot there. Dr. Cullen appeared a few seconds later, a grin flitting over his lips. "We meet again, Miss Swan."

I sighed. "I guess I'm making up for lost time." I looked away as he took a small pair of scissors and began cutting the bandage away from my hand. I tried to think about anything else as I felt the metal against my skin, snipping at the remaining stitches. "I wonder if I'll max out my dad's deductible for the year," I said faintly.

I felt him pause but didn't look in his direction, not wanting to catch sight of the ugly wound. "How old are you, Bella?"

"Eighteen."

"You don't seem eighteen." He sounded solemn. "I don't know many people your age that are responsible for Thanksgiving dinner, or who worry about insurance coverage."

I shrugged. "You sound like my mom."

He put down the scissors. "I'm going administer some local anesthesia and re-do your stitches now," he warned. I nodded, biting my lip. The room was silent but for the sound of my sharp breathing, eyes fixed on the wall.

"My wife would say you're an old soul," he broke the silence, his voice quiet. I tried to smile, but my hand felt like it was burning. "That's how she refers to our children," he continued, trying to distract me.

My smile was genuine now, thinking of Alice. She was so small, probably not even five feet, her narrow face and bright eyes so elfin and young. "Even Alice?" I asked.

He nodded, snipping the last of the thread neatly. "Especially Alice."

I turned my eyes to him now, openly curious. Dr. Cullen's face was downcast, concentrating on wrapping my hand with fresh bandages. I was filled with questions but knew it would be rude to ask any of them, desperately wishing I knew the Cullens better. "Thank you…again." It was all I could say.

He grinned up at me. "Let's just make sure I don't have a reason to see you again." He chuckled. "At least, not here."

I frowned, wondering what the hell that meant.