Chapter 9

Bella's P.O.V. (Biology Class)

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it," I heard his melodic voice say next to me. I knew he was still upset with my pointing out his eye color, so it kind of felt like he was forcing himself to make small talk with me. I felt paranoid again. It was like he had heard my conversation with Jessica at lunch and was trying to prove me wrong.

"Not really," I answered honestly. I wasn't trying to pretend to be like everyone else and sulk over the melted snow. I hated snow, so I, quite frankly, didn't care about it.

"You don't like the cold," he practically stated.

"Or the wet."

"Forks must be a difficult place for you to live," he mused.

"You have no idea," I muttered darkly. Living in Phoenix allowed me to enjoy the sun almost every day. I could sit outside with a good book and enjoy the sun without worrying whether the sun would disappear. It was an obvious difference Toni and I had. She loved the cold, wet snow and rain and loved staying indoors. I loved the hot, dry sun and loved lying out in the sun.

He looked fascinated by what I said for some reason. I couldn't imagine why. Had I caught his attention by my answer?

"You and your sister seem to differ from each other," he said, almost like he was wondering why. His face was such a distraction that it took me a while to realize what he had just said.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah Toni loves the cold. Can't imagine why, though. Any cold, wet thing is just..." I stopped mid-sentence and shuddered. I could almost feel the cold that the snow would emit. When I looked up to see his reaction, it threw me off. He seemed appalled, maybe a bit discouraged. The expression on his face made me very nervous. Had I said something wrong? Did I lose my chance with Edward? I was just being honest.

Whatever was on his mind, he seemed to discard because his facial expression neutralized. I tried to search his eyes, tried to pick up on anything, but there was no trace of his mood.

"Is your sister alright?"

That question made me suspicious. What did he want with Toni? How did he notice her absence when they had only talked once? Is she closer to the Cullen's than I thought? Why was he asking questions about her when he should be asking questions about me?

"Yeah, she just had an accident," I replied. I really wanted him to end the subject; to start a new one, but I guess he didn't catch on, or he really cared, because he asked, "What happened?"

I reined in my jealousy and said, "Nothing major."

He seemed to understand my mood, and changed the subject, but not before a perplexed expression graced his perfect features.

"If you hate the rain so much, why did you come here?"

No one had asked me that, not in a demanding tone, at least.

"It's... complicated," I replied. In truth, it wasn't, but I hated the thought of having to explain something personal to him, or anyone, for that matter.

"I think I can keep up," he pressed. I paused for a long moment, and then made the mistake of meeting his gaze. His dark, golden eyes entranced me and I answered without thinking.

"My mother got remarried," I said.

"That doesn't sound so complex," he disagreed, but he was suddenly sympathetic. "When did that happen?"

"Last September."

My voice sounded sad, even to me. My mother was like my best friend. She was always there for me; always there when I needed someone to talk to or needed a shoulder to cry on. She understood me like no other, but she was miles away and I was stuck in Forks with Charlie and Toni.

"And you don't like him," Edward surmised, his tone still kind.

"No, Phil's fine. A bit too young, but nice enough."

"Why didn't you and your sister stay with them?"

I huffed. I couldn't fathom his interest with me or Toni, but he continued to stare at me with penetrating eyes as if my dull life story was somehow important.

"He travels a lot; Phil, that is. He plays ball for a living. He doesn't play well, though. Strictly minor league. And he moves around a lot," I replied.

"And your Mother sent you two here so that she could travel with him," he assumed. I raised my chin a fraction and narrowed my eyes at him.

"No, she did not send me here. I sent myself," I said. Two things I absolutely loathed were when people assumed things about me and when people tried to make me do things. I tilted my head towards the unusual boy as I heard him say, "I don't understand." I turned my head completely when I caught the sight of his furrowed brows in my peripheral. He seemed frustrated, again. I sighed as he continued to stare at me with obvious curiosity.

"She stayed with me at first, but she missed him. It made her unhappy, so I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Ch- my dad." My voice was glum by the time I finished.

"But now you're unhappy," he pointed out.

"And?" I challenged.

"That doesn't seem fair."

He shrugged, but his eyes were still intense.

I laughed without humor. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that life isn't fair?"

"I believe I have heard that somewhere before," he agreed dryly.

"So that's all," I insisted, wondering why he was still staring at me that way.

"What about Toni. Did she want to move here?" he asked.

I sighed a bit roughly and said, "Yes."

"Does she like it here so far?"

"Why does it matter to you," I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher make his rounds.

He smiled and said, "That seems like a very good question, doesn't it?"

He seemed to be taunting me, and I hated him for it. I decided that that was the only answer I was going to get and started scowling at the blackboard.

"Am I annoying you?" he asked. He sounded amused. I wanted to say something that would make me seem superior, but I ended up telling him the truth.

"Not exactly. I'm more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read that my Mother always calls me her open book."

I frowned. It was true that she could easily read the emotions that flit across my face. It was why we could freely talk to each other. I would be lying if I said he wasn't annoying me. It didn't help that his eyes were a completely different color. The flat black color of his eyes the last time he had glared at me was striking against the background of his pale skin and his auburn hair. Today, his eyes were a strange brownish-yellow color; darker than butterscotch, but with the same golden tint. I didn't understand how that could be unless he was lying for some reason about the contacts. Maybe Forks was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word.

"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read."

I looked at him confused for a minute, but then realized what he was saying.

"You must be a good reader then," I replied.

"Usually."