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Picking up where we left off, right after the Port Angeles trip goes horribly wrong and Bella has her restless night. Hope you enjoy!

You, my dear readers, know I don't own any of the good stuff, but just to give credit where credit is due: titles are songs recorded by Frank Sinatra; characters and associated material belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter 10: Goin' Out Of My Head

The school day routine was exactly what I needed after my bad night or bad dream – whatever it was. I was so tired I didn't really wake up until halfway through English, but I decided lack of sleep was going to be my only complaint for the day. I was relatively happy to see Jessica in Trig, and it must have shown, because she actually had a selfless moment.

"You seemed really cold last night," she said apologetically. "I'm sorry my little heater couldn't do the trick. I guess my car is showing its age."

"Oh, that's okay, Jess," I assured her. "Washington is just a little chilly for me." Smiling encouragingly, I angled for a change in topic. "Mike asked about you in English," I said.

"Ooh, really?" she squealed, and everything Mike said or did or may have meant was the focus of our whispering through Trig and Spanish, right up to the lunch bell.

I had made it through the morning without pausing to dwell on my near-death experience the night before, but the grave expression on Angela's face when I saw her at lunch threatened to shake my good spirits. I compensated by plastering on my brightest grin.

"Hey, Angela!" I cried before she could ask any probing questions about my well-being. She gave me a puzzled look.

"Hey... Bella," she murmured, a wrinkle in her brow.

"So, now that you're all set, are you looking forward to the dance Saturday?" I asked, taking my seat at the table with an apple and a slice of pizza.

"I, er..." she trailed off, looking at something over my shoulder. I twisted in my seat to see what caught her eye.

Edward Cullen was standing right behind me. My smile began to slip, but I caught myself and kept it in check.

"Hello," he said in a low voice, looking from Angela to me. He came alongside the table and crouched down on his heels to put his face almost level with mine.

"Bella," he said, so low I could barely hear him, "I was hoping I could have a word with you."

My smile faltered completely then. There was only one thing he could want to speak with me about, and it wasn't next period biology. My mouth went dry.

"Just for a second," Edward added swiftly. His eyes narrowed as he looked to Angela. "Just for a second," he repeated.

I was a little unclear on how Edward's assuring my friend he would only need me a second had led to my voluntarily standing up from the table and following him, but I found myself sitting at a table alone with the boy a moment later. My palms were sweaty, and my heart pounded. I stared blankly at the table.

Edward leaned forward, spreading his hands out on the table, breaking my trance and leading my eyes up to his face.

"You aren't still planning on going to Seattle, are you?" he asked.

"What?"

"Seattle. Saturday?" He gave me a significant look. "You aren't still going to go after what happened last night, right?"

What happened last night. The little game I had been playing with myself was over. It had happened. It wasn't a bad dream. There was a witness. A participant, even.

And, like a pile of cards that had been stacked carefully, just so, all the memories of the drunks in the alley and the terrifying rescue that followed, all the images I had labored to put away the night before, everything came crashing down on me. The cafeteria became a blur, a swirling tangle of light and noise, tumbling and whirling around Edward's white face. His eyes burned into me like coals, glowing amber and yet somehow dark and hard.

My mind started to race, and I felt supremely uncomfortable. It was difficult to breathe, like the weight of my worries was sitting on my chest, squeezing the air out of me. I swallowed so hard it strained my throat. My throat was hurting and my chest was hurting and I was going to lose it and cry or something and I didn't want to cry in the cafeteria and Edward was going to see the whole thing and I didn't want him to but I couldn't help it.

Frowning, Edward leaned across the table. "Hey," he said, so softly and gently it was almost a song. "You doing okay?"

I looked at the table and braced myself to lie.

"I'm fine," I mumbled.

I'm fine. I'm fine. The lie from the night before taunted me. Why couldn't I say something else? I forced my eyes to Edward's face, and I knew: I might as well have said, "I'm going out of my mind." His mouth hung open a little as he studied my trembling lip and shaking hands. A glimpse of his sparkling teeth sparked a shiver through my core.

"Stay calm, Bella," he soothed, his lion eyes boring into my brain, melting me into my seat. Something inside me jumped to obey him and pulled away from panic. But the tug was tiny; it only served to show me how far gone I was. I was nowhere near calm, no matter if I wanted to be, or Edward begged me to be, or part of me was dying to be. I was a wreck. I could barely see my shaking hands on the table before me. As the realization of this sank in, I tried to recover with a gasp, a desperate attempt at getting oxygen to my crashing brain.

There was a flash of motion at the edge of my vision just before everything went dark.

Something cool pressed against my clammy forehead. My arms and legs were lead; my whole body jostled in a steady, rocking motion. I blinked my eyes open. Had I gone blind? All I saw was blazing white. I blinked again and noticed color in the periphery. Squinting a bit, I tried to move my head to see what was happening.

My forehead rested against a pale neck. My cheek, a shoulder. Strong arms wrapped around my back and under my knees, carrying me someplace. The scent of evergreens accompanied a refreshing breeze across my face. We were outside. I shut my eyes again. I was too disoriented to wonder or worry about where I was being carried, but I was relieved to find that the tightness in my chest had lessened enough for me to take a deep breath.

"You passed out," a voice rang in my ear. "You had a panic attack and passed out, and we will be at the nurse's office in just a second."

I nodded feebly against the shoulder. Sure, panic, nurse. Something about that seemed to make sense somehow. I was too dizzy to think about it.

I heard a door opening and some soft murmuring, but I kept my eyes shut. I felt like the world was fluid, and it would all flow away if I tried too hard to make it stay, but if I could just lie still, it would wash over me like a wave, and then it would all make sense.

The arms wrapped around me disappeared and were replaced by a stiff cot. It was uncomfortable, and I frowned against the change.

"Bella, can you hear me?" a woman's voice asked.

I nodded. Could the woman bring the arms back? I didn't like the cot.

"You're in the nurse's office, sweetheart. You fell unconscious at lunch." A hand was at my wrist. It was warm and very dry. The warmth made me feel funny. I swallowed. There was more murmuring, and this time I wanted to hear it, but it was too quiet. I blinked, trying to get a glimpse of my surroundings.

The little nurse sat next to my cot, holding my wrist but turned away in conversation with a tall figure by the door. I had to turn my head to see who it was, and my eyes were all blurry. After blinking a couple of times, I recognized Edward Cullen.

Somehow that seemed strange, but I couldn't grasp onto a thought long enough to figure out what was strange about it. I remembered talking with him at lunch, and at the same time I wasn't surprised to see him in the nurse's office with me, but I wasn't sure how I knew he would be there. I felt sleepy and nervous and agitated, and somehow it had something to do with him, but seeing him didn't bother me at all. I tried to sit up.

"Oh, you'd better stay lying down," the nurse said, turning back to me. "Are you feeling dizzy at all?"

I nodded.

"That's to be expected. How about your stomach? Do you feel queasy?"

"Not now," I answered thickly.

"All right, well I think the best thing is for you to relax for a few minutes before you try sitting up, and then we'll get you some water and see how you feel. Okay?"

I nodded again. What else could I do? Offer my own prognosis?

I was left alone, and after the anxiety started to drain out of me, I realized how awful I had felt and how much it was helping to lie quietly in a dark room. By the time the door opened again, I felt as good as new, except for a dull ache in my temples and a fluttery feeling like I had had the previous day.

The nurse approached my cot and handed me a little plastic cup of water, which I took gratefully.

"How are we feeling?" she asked as I took a sip.

"Better," I mumbled.

"Any trouble breathing? Light-headedness?"

I shook my head.

"Okay, well I'm writing you an excuse out of class for the rest of the day. I think it's best if you go home and take it easy this evening. I can have Ms. Cope call Chief Swan to come pick you up."

"No!" I protested at such a volume that the nurse jumped. If Charlie got involved, it would only mean me trying to calm him down on top of calming myself.

"No," I repeated, at a more controlled volume, "I can drive myself home."

The nurse patted me on the hand.

"Ordinarily, Miss Swan, I wouldn't have a problem with a sick student driving home. But considering you've already lost consciousness unexpectedly once today, I think it would be better if you didn't drive right now."

Just then, Edward, who had been lurking in the doorway, stepped in to undo me.

"I'll drive her home," he said in a soft, persuasive voice. He caught the nurse's eye and kept it for a moment. She nodded.

"Miss Swan," she said without looking away from Edward's gaze, "Mr. Cullen has offered to escort you home. But if you experience any chest pains or dizziness, please don't hesitate to call the hospital." Then, as if in a daze, she drifted away from my cot, leaving me alone with the teacher's pet. She didn't even ask me if I was okay with this escort. Good grief.

Edward waited while I collected myself. He already had my backpack slung over his shoulder as he stood by the door. I took my time sitting up but found that the dizziness was gone. The nurse handed me a copy of my excuse note – another, she mentioned, would be sent to the office for me – and Edward steered me out of the nurse's office with a gentle but deliberate grip on my elbow.

The cold wind outside stung like a slap to my face. But with the sting came clarity. I knew Edward was to blame for all the embarrassment and inconvenience of my fainting spell. And here he was trying to drive me home.

I shook the hand from my elbow.

"I can walk," I said icily.

"I'll drive you," he said.

Like hell. "No, I have a truck. I'm driving it home."

"You'll be cold," Edward protested.

"You're not driving me," I spat.

"At least take my jacket. It's important you stay warm right now."

"My truck has heat, thank you very much." Did he think he was being a gentleman or something by pestering me?

"Then I'll follow you," he replied.

He had an answer for everything! Why did he have to be so irritating? We reached my truck, and I literally had to throw myself at the door handle to keep him from opening the door for me.

"I don't need you following me all the way home," I said. "I drive home every day. So far that hasn't been a problem." I tossed my backpack into the passenger seat.

"No way. I'm in charge of you. I'm not going to have the police chief on my tail because I was supposed to make sure his daughter got home safely and she passed out and ran off the road and died. No way."

"Fine," I huffed. "Whatever!" I climbed into my truck and slammed the door.

He did follow me home, but he left a respectable distance between my big, rusty truck and his shiny family vehicle. He didn't even stop when I pulled into Charlie's driveway; instead, he cruised slowly past, waiting for me to let myself in and then accelerating away. Only then did it occur to me that I had just led the freak to my house. Yet, somehow it didn't seem to matter. Sure, in a town as small as Forks, it was possible that everyone knew where the chief of police lived anyway. But, I realized as I locked the front door behind me, that wasn't it. Somewhere between his saving my life from the death van and his following me at a modest distance to make sure I got home in one piece, there was a boy who maybe wasn't the threat to me that I had always worried about.

Recalling Edward's finest moments of bravery was a mistake. I was taken back to the alley where I would have died had he not shown up in the nick of time. It was so clear in my mind, I could practically taste the vodka and asphalt. My knees wobbled, so I sat down on the spot, shaking on the kitchen floor.

After a few minutes, I reached up and grabbed the phone. My fingers punched buttons, a number I hadn't even realized I knew by heart. The line rang. It rang again.

"Hello?" answered the sweetest voice in the world.

"Hi, Mom?" The tears started to flow. "I want to come home."