Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

Chapter 10 – Interrogations

After I got inside, I called out to Charlie, letting him know I was home.

"You're home early," he called back from the living room

I looked at the clock on the wall. He was right, it wasn't even eight. I reminded myself that I would tell him what happened. Of course, I was going to leave out Edward. "Yeah, my night got cut a little short," I said, my voice wry and a little bitter as I walked into the living room. I rolled up my shirt sleeve so he could see the bruise that was already starting to form.

He bolted up from his chair, coming straight over to me. "Where the hell did that come from, Bell?"

"I went to that book store on the east end of town. You know, the one I'm not that big of a fan of. Well we were close by, so I walked there. Angela and Jessica decided to walk down to the bay area, and I said I'd meet them. I took the shortcut..." I looked away, feeling guilty. "You know the way through the warehouses that you always tell me is dangerous. It was still light out, albeit getting darker, but about halfway to my destination, I started being followed."

I swallowed. "I accidentally made a wrong turn in my hurry to get away from them and got cornered in an alley." I looked back at Charlie who looked sick. "Aside from this bruise they didn't touch me, all those self defense classes I've been taking really helped, but they could try to do it again. Someone else might not be so lucky."

Charlie's relief that the only injury was my arm was palpable. Finally he walked over to his jacket, pulling out a notepad. "Can you describe them to me?"

I went over the details I remembered, advising him of the different features I'd noticed and everything the speaker had said, but aside from the speaker, I wasn't able to describe that much about the others, I just hadn't been focused enough on them. "I'm sorry, dad. The others, they just didn't catch my focus the way the speaker did."

He'd been writing the whole time I'd been talking. "It seems like you managed to identify the real threat. You did good, Bell."

I went to bed after that, checking things on my computer briefly before taking a long shower, trying to physically wash away any evidence of meeting those men.

Finally, after using all the hot water up, I crawled into bed, letting my exhaustion consume me. Before I lost complete consciousness, a few certainties became evident.

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him – and I didn't know how potent that part might be – that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

. . .

It wasn't until the next morning before school that I remembered to call Jessica.

I didn't let her start the interrogation that I was certain she was planning. "I left my jacket in your car last night – could you bring it to school with you?

"Sure. But tell me what happened!" she demanded.

"Thanks, I'll see you in Trig, bye," I said, practically talking over her in my rush to hang up the phone.

Charlie was already gone for the day, something that didn't surprise me.

I headed outside to find that it was unusually foggy; the air was almost smoky with it. The mist was ice cold where it clung to the exposed skin on my face and neck. I couldn't wait to get the heat going in my truck. It was such a thick fog that I was a few feet down the driveway before I realized there was a car in it: a silver car. My heart thudded, stuttered, and then picked up again in double time.

I didn't see where he came from, but suddenly he was there, pulling the door open for me.

"Do you want to ride with me today?" he asked, amused by my expression as he caught me by surprise yet again. There was uncertainty in his voice. He was really giving me a choice – I was free to refuse, and part of him hoped for that. It was a vain hope.

"Yes, thank you," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. As I stepped into the warm car, I noticed his tan jacket was slung over the headrest of the passenger seat. The door closed behind me, and, sooner than should be possible, he was sitting next to me, starting the car.

"I brought the jacket for you. I didn't want you to get sick or something." His voice was guarded. I noticed that he wore no jacket himself, just a light gray knit V-neck shirt with long sleeves. Again, the fabric clung to his perfectly muscled chest. It was a colossal tribute to his face that it kept my eyes away from his body.

"I'm not quite that delicate," I said even as I pulled the jacket onto my lap, resisting to glance at my arm as I did so. It was sore, the muscles feeling as bruised as the skin.

"Aren't you?" he contradicted in a voice so low I wasn't sure if he meant for me to hear.

We drove through the fog-shrouded streets, always too fast, feeling awkward. I was, at least. Last night all the walls were down... almost all. I didn't know if we were still being as candid today. It left me tongue-tied. I waited for him to speak.

He turned to smirk at me. "What, no twenty questions today?"

"Do my questions bother you?" I asked, relieved.

"Not as much as your reactions do." He looked like he was joking, but I couldn't be sure.

I frowned. "Do I react badly?"

"No, that's the problem. You take everything so coolly – it's unnatural. It makes me wonder what you're really thinking."

"I always tell you what I'm really thinking." Well... most of the time.

"You edit," he accused.

"Not very much."

"Enough to drive me insane."

"You don't want to hear it," I snapped. As soon as the words were out, I regretted them.

He didn't respond, and I wondered if I had ruined the mood. His face was unreadable as we drove into the school parking lot. Something occurred to me belatedly.

"Where's the rest of your family?" I asked – more than glad to be alone with him, but remembering his car was usually full.

"They took Rosalie's car." He shrugged as he parked next to a glossy red convertible with the top up. "Ostentatious, isn't it?"

"Um, wow," I breathed. "If she has that, why does she ride with you?"

"Like I said, it's ostentatious. We try to blend in."

"You fail," I muttered, shaking my head as we got out of the car and I stopped to put the leather jacket on. "So why did Rosalie drive today if it's more conspicuous?"

"Hadn't you noticed? I'm breaking all the rules now." He met me at the front of the car, staying very close to my side as we walked onto campus. I wanted to close that little distance, to reach out and touch him, but I was afraid he wouldn't like me to.

"Why do you have cars like that at all?" I wondered aloud. "If you're looking for privacy."

"An indulgence," he admitted with an impish smile. "We all like to drive fast."

"Figures," I muttered under my breath.

Under the shelter of the cafeteria's roof overhang, Jessica was waiting, her eyes about to bug out of her sockets. Over her arm, bless her, was my jacket.

"Hey, Jessica," I said when we were a few feet away. "Thanks for bringing it."

She handed me my jacket without speaking, glancing between the two of us in a way that promised trouble, for me.

"Good morning, Jessica," Edward said politely. It wasn't really his fault that his voice was so irresistible. Or what his eyes were capable of.

"Er... hi." She shifted her wide eyes to me, trying to gather her jumbled thoughts. "I guess I'll see you in Trig." She gave me a meaningful look, and I suppressed a sigh. What on earth was I going to tell her?

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

She walked away, pausing twice to peek back over her shoulder at us.

"What are you going to tell her?" Edward murmured.

"Hey, I thought you couldn't read my mind!" I hissed.

"I can't," he said, startled. The understanding brightened his eyes. "However, I can read hers – she'll be waiting to ambush you in class."

I groaned as I pulled off his jacket and handed it to him, replacing it with my own. He folded it over his arm.

"So what are you going to tell her?"

"A little help?" I pleaded. "What does she want to know?"

He shook his head, grinning wickedly. "That's not fair."

"No, you not sharing what you know – now that's not fair."

He deliberated for a moment as we walked. We stopped outside the door to my first class.

"She wants to know if we're secretly dating. And she wants to know how you feel about me," he finally said.

"Yikes. What should I say?" I tried to keep my expression very innocent. People were passing us on their way to class, probably staring, but I was barely aware of them.

"Hmmm." He paused to catch a stray lock of hair that was escaping the twist on my neck and wound it back into place. My heart spluttered hyper-actively. "I suppose you could say yes to the first... if you don't mind – it's easier than any other explanation."

"I don't mind," I said in a faint voice.

"And as for her other question... well, I'll be listening to hear the answer to that one myself." One side of his mouth pulled up into my favorite uneven smile.

I struggled to catch my breath as he turned to walk away. "Edward..." He looked over his shoulder at me. "The answer's yes." He wasn't the only one capable of breaking the rules.

I hurried into class before he could reply. I hated that he was such a cheat. How was I going to respond to Jessica now? I sat in my usual seat, slamming my bag down in aggravation.

"Morning, Bella," Mike said from the seat next to me. I looked up to see an odd, almost resigned look on his face. "How was Port Angeles?"

"It was..." There was no honest way to sum it up. "Great," I finished lamely. "Jessica got a really cute dress."

"Did she say anything about Monday night?" he asked, his eyes brightening. I smiled at the turn the conversation had taken.

"She said she had a really good time," I assured him.

"She did?" he asked eagerly.

"Most definitely."

Mr. Mason called the class to order then, asking us to turn in our papers. English and then Government passed in a blur, while I worried about how to explain things to Jessica and agonized over whether Edward would really be listening to what I thought through the medium of Jess's thoughts. How very inconvenient his little talent could be – when it wasn't saving my life.

The fog had almost dissolved by the end of the second hour, but the day was still dark with low hanging clouds. I smiled up at the sky.

Edward was right, of course. When I walked into Trig, Jessica was sitting in the back row, nearly bouncing off her seat in agitation. I reluctantly went to sit by her, sorely tempted to accidentally trip and sprain my ankle the whole way, even while I was trying to convince myself it would be better to get it over with as soon as possible.

"Tell me everything!" she commanded before I was in the seat.

"What do you want to know?" I hedged.

"What happened last night?"

"He bought me dinner, and then he drove me home."

She glanced at me, her expression stiff with skepticism. "What were you doing with him before that?"

"I told you, I ran into him outside of the bookstore."

"Really, why were you gone so long then?"

"We were talking."

"About?" she demanded.

I tried to think of a topic that wouldn't get me in too much trouble. The light bulb flashed. "My desire to run over Tyler," I said it just loud enough that he would hear me.

He stiffened two seats in front of us. I grinned.

"Was it like a date – did you tell him to meet you there?"

I hadn't been prepared for that. "No – I was very surprised to see him there."

Her lips puckered in disappointment at the transparent honesty in my voice.

"But he picked you up for school today?" she probed.

"Yes – that was a surprise, too. He noticed I didn't have a jacket last night," I explained.

"So are you going to go out again?"

"We're going to go down to Tacoma this weekend together, though I think I should drive. He drives like a maniac." I hoped he heard that.

"W-o-w." She exaggerated the word into three syllables. "Edward Cullen."

"I know," I agreed.

"Wait!" Her hands flew up, palms toward me like she was stopping traffic. "Has he kissed you?"

"No," I mumbled. "It's not like that."

She looked disappointed. I'm sure I did, too.

"Do you think Saturday...?" She raised her eyebrows.

"I wish." The discontent in my voice was obvious.

"What did you talk about with him at dinner?" She pushed for more information in a whisper. Class had started but Mr. Varner wasn't paying close attention and we weren't the only ones still talking.

"I don't know, Jess, lots of stuff," I whispered back. "We talked about schoolwork a little." A very, very little. As in one sentence.

"Please, Bella," she begged. "Give me some details."

"Well... okay, I've got one. You should have seen the waitress flirting with him – it was over the top. But he didn't pay any attention to her at all." Let him make he could of that.

"That's a good sign," she nodded. "Was she pretty?"

"Very – and probably nineteen or twenty."

"Even better. He must like you."

"I think so, but it's hard to tell. He's always so cryptic," I threw in for his benefit, sighing.

"I don't know how you're brave enough to be alone with him," she breathed.

"Why?" I was shocked, but she didn't understand my reaction.

"He's so... intimidating. I wouldn't know what to say to him." She made a face, probably remembering this morning or last night, when he'd turned the overwhelming force of his eyes on her.

"I do have some trouble with incoherency when I'm around him," I admitted.

"Oh well. He is unbelievably gorgeous." Jessica shrugged as if this excused any flaws. Which, in her book, it usually did.

"There's a lot more to him than that." I instantly regretted my words, even before she opened her mouth to respond.

"Really? Like what?"

I really wished I had let it go. Almost as much as I was hoping he'd been kidding about listening in.

"I can't explain it right... but he's even more unbelievable behind the face." The vampire who wanted to be good – who ran around saving people's lives so he wouldn't be a monster... I stared toward the front of the room.

"Is that possible?" She giggled.

I ignored her, trying to look like I was paying attention to Mr. Varner.

"So you like him, then?" She wasn't about to give up.

"Yes," I said curtly.

"I mean, do you really like him?" she urged.

"Yes," I said again, blushing. I hoped that detail wouldn't register in her thoughts.

She'd had enough with the single syllable answers. "How much do you like him?"

"Too much," I whispered back. "More than he likes me. But I don't see how I can help that." I sighed, one blush blending into the next.

Then, thankfully, Mr. Varner called on Jessica for an answer.

She didn't get a chance to start on the subject again during class, and as soon as class ended, I took evasive action.

"In English, Mike asked me if you said anything about Monday night," I told her.

"You're kidding! What did you say?!" she gasped, completely sidetracked.

"I told him you said you had a lot of fun – he looked pleased."

"Tell me exactly what he said, and your exact answer!"

We spent the rest of the walk to her Biology class dissecting sentence structures until we split ways so I could head to Art. We met back up in Spanish talking over a minute description of Mike's facial expressions. I wouldn't have helped draw it out for as long as I did if I wasn't worried about the subject returning to me.

And then it was time for lunch. As I jumped up out of my seat, shoving my books roughly in my bag, my uplifted expression must have tipped Jessica off.

"You're not sitting with us today, are you?" she guessed.

"I don't think so." I couldn't be sure that he wouldn't disappear inconveniently again.

But outside the door to our Spanish class, leaning against the wall – looking more like a Greek god than anyone had a right to – Edward was waiting for me. Jessica took one look, rolled her eyes, and departed.

"See you later, Bella." Her voice was thick with implications. I might have to turn off the ringer on the phone... and block her from my email.

"Hello." His voice was amused and irritated at the same time. He had been listening, it was obvious.

"Hi."

I couldn't think of anything else to say, and he didn't speak – biding his time, I presumed – so it was a quiet walk to the cafeteria. Walking with Edward through the crowded lunchtime rush was a lot like the first day back from Panama. Everyone stared.

He led the way into the line, still not speaking, though his eyes returned to my face every few seconds, their expression speculative. It seemed to me that irritation was winning out over amusement as the dominant emotion in his face. I fidgeted nervously with the zipper on my jacket.

He stepped up to the counter and filled a tray with food.

"What are you doing?" I objected. "You're not getting all that for me?"

He shook his head, stepping forward to buy the food.

"Half is for me, of course."

I raised one eyebrow.

He led the way to the same place we'd sat last Thursday. From a nearby table, a group of jocks gazed at us in amazement as we sat across from each other. Edward seemed oblivious.

"Take whatever you want," he said, pushing the tray toward me.

"I'm curious," I said as I picked up an orange, turning it around in my hands. "What would you do if someone dared you to eat food?"

"You're always curious." He grimaced, shaking his head. He glared at me, holding my eyes as he lifted the slice of pizza off the tray, and deliberately bit off a mouthful, chewed quickly, and then swallowed. I watched, eyes wide.

"If someone dared you to eat dirt, you could, couldn't you?" he asked condescendingly.

I wrinkled my nose. "I did once... on a dare." I still remembered when Jacob had dared me to do that. "It wasn't so bad."

He laughed. "I suppose I'm not surprised." Something over my shoulder seemed to catch his attention.

"Jessica's analyzing everything I do – she'll break it down for you later."

I wasn't surprised. It sounded so typically Jessica.

He pushed the rest of the pizza toward me. The mention of Jessica brought a hint of his former irritation back to his features.

I put down the orange and took a bite of the pizza, looking away, knowing he was about to start.

"So the waitress was pretty, was she?" he asked casually.

"You really didn't notice?"

"No. I wasn't paying attention. I had a lot on my mind."

"Poor girl." I could afford to be generous now.

"Something you said to Jessica... well, it bothers be." He refused to be distracted. His voice was husky, and he glanced up from under his lashes with troubled eyes.

"I'm not surprised you heard something you didn't like. You know what they say about eavesdroppers," I reminded him.

"I warned you I would be listening."

"And I warned you that you didn't want to know everything I was thinking."

"You did," he agreed, but his voice was still rough. "You aren't precisely right, though. I do want to know what you're thinking – everything. I just wish... that you wouldn't be thinking some things."

I scowled. "That's quite a distinction."

"Buy that's not really the point at the moment."

"Then what is?" We were inclined toward each other across the table now. He had his large white hands folded under his chin; I leaned forward, my right hand cupped around my neck. I had to remind myself that we were in a crowded lunchroom, with probably many curious eyes on us. It was too easy to get wrapped up in your own private, tense little bubble.

"Do you truly believe that you care for me more than I do for you?" he murmured, leaning closer to me as he spoke, his dark golden eyes piercing.

I tried to remember how to exhale. I had to look away before it came back to me.

"You're doing it again," I muttered.

His eyes opened wide with surprise. "What?"

"Dazzling me," I admitted, trying to concentrate as I looked back at him.

"Oh." He frowned.

"It's not your fault," I sighed. "You can't help it."

"Are you going to answer the question?"

I looked down. "Yes."

"Yes, you are going to answer, or yes, you really think that?" He was irritated again.

"Yes, I really think that." I kept my eyes down on the table, my eyes tracing the pattern of the faux wood grains printed on the laminate. The silence dragged on. I stubbornly refused to be the first to break it this time, fighting hard against the temptation to peek at his expression.

Finally he spoke, voice velvet soft. "You're wrong."

I glanced up to see that his eyes were gentle.

"You can't know that," I disagreed in a whisper. I shook my head in doubt, though my heart throbbed at his words and I wanted so badly to believe them.

"What makes you think so?" His liquid topaz eyes were penetrating – trying futilely, I assumed, to lift the truth straight from my mind.

I stared back, struggling to think clearly in spite of his face, to find some way to explain. As I searched for the words, I could see him getting impatient; frustrated by my silence, he started to scowl. I lifted my hand from my neck, and held up one finger.

"Let me think," I insisted. His expression cleared, now that he was satisfied that I was planning to answer. I dropped my hand to the table, moving my left hand so that my palms were pressed together. I stared at my hands, twisting and untwisting my fingers, as I finally spoke.

"Well, aside from the obvious, sometimes..." I hesitated. "I can't be sure – I don't know how to read minds – but sometimes it seems like you're trying to say goodbye when you're saying something else." That was the best way I could sum up the sensation of anguish that his words triggered in me at times.

"Perceptive," he whispered. And there was the anguish again, surfacing as he confirmed my fear. "That's exactly why you're wrong, though," he began to explain, but then his eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'the obvious'?"

"Well, look at me," I said, unnecessarily as he was already staring. "I'm absolutely ordinary – well except for bad things like all the near-death experiences and being so clumsy that I'm almost disabled. And look at you." I waved my hand toward him and all his bewildering perfection.

His brow creased angrily for a moment, then smoothed as his eyes took on a knowing look. "You don't see yourself very clearly, you know. I'll admit you're dead-on about the bad things," he chuckled blackly, "But you don't hear what almost every human male thinks of you here at school."

I brushed his comment off. "I'm the police chief's daughter. Most of them just want in my pants to mark it as a notch on their bed post." It was crass, but I knew it was true. I'd seen Austin Marks list.

His eyes flashed. "Trust me just this once – you are the opposite of ordinary."

My embarrassment was much stronger that my pleasure at the look that came into his eyes when he said this. I quickly reminded him of the original argument.

"But I'm not saying goodbye," I pointed out.

"Don't you see? That's what proves me right. I care the most, because if I can do it –" he shook his head, seeming to struggle with the thought "– If leaving is the right thing to do, then I'll hurt myself to keep from hurting you, to keep you safe."

"No." My voice was cold and cut off. "It just makes you selfish."

"What?" The steam seemed to have blown out of him thanks to my words.

"I've seen the damage that something like what your saying tends to cause. I can't stop you from leaving, but I want you to understand something. If you leave, you're doing it for yourself, not me."

"You're wrong. It proves how much I want to protect you."

I glared. "Edward, have you ever, in your entire life, known someone that walked away. Be it because they were saying it was for love or protection or just because they could. Someone that you truly cared for?"

Edward didn't reply right away.

I took it as being a no. "Then don't, ever, claim it is for my own good, because I'll tell you something. When my mother walked out in the night leaving only a note as to why she left, that it would have been far less cruel, and far less painful, had she physically stabbed a knife in Charlie's heart. It's been long enough now that I've come to understand that my mother was just too irresponsible and erratic to have ever stayed with Charlie. As a result, I can forgive her for what she did. But that pain is still a constant in Charlie's life.

"I am my father's daughter, and at the end of the day, if I ever willingly gave my heart to someone and then they walked away... There would be nothing on earth, heaven, or hell that would make it right again." I would rather die was implied, but left unsaid.

I didn't say it as I looked in his eyes, but it wasn't an if. It was far too late for an if. I didn't know when or why, but at some point, Edward had become the center of my world.

He looked at me seriously, but I couldn't be sure from his ambivalent eyes if he actually believed and understood what I was telling him. "Of course, keeping you safe is beginning to feel like a full-time occupation that requires my constant presence."

I was grateful that he hadn't yet figured out he was fighting a losing battle. "No one has tried to do away with me today."

"Yet," he added.

"Yet," I agreed.

"I have another question for you." His face was still casual.

"Shoot."

"I hate to ask this now that you finally agreed to let me take you to Tacoma, but is there any way we can put it off until Sunday."

"Why?" I was confused.

"The weather will be nice, so I'll be staying out of the public eye... and you can stay with me, if you'd like to." Again, he was leaving the choice up to me.

"And you'll show me what you meant, about the sun?" I asked.

"Yes." He smiled, and then paused. "But if you don't want to be... alone with me, I'd still rather you didn't go to Tacoma by yourself. I shudder to think of the trouble you could find in a city that size."

I was miffed. "I've been to Tacoma many times before."

"But, apparently," he interrupted me, "your number wasn't up then. So I'd rather you be near me." His eyes did that unfair smoldering thing.

"As it so happens, I don't mind being alone with you." In fact, that was why I'd finally said yes to him going to Tacoma with me.

"I know," he sighed, brooding. "Will you tell Charlie?"

I thought of Charlie's horror when I'd told him two years ago I'd agreed to go out on a date with Tyler, and he and I had both knew that I was dating him sheerly to prove I was capable of doing it. It was why Tyler had really never made it past hand holding and an occasional hug. I didn't have to imagine Charlie's reaction if he found out I actually found a guy I truly liked.

"With Charlie, less is always more." I was definite about that.

I could tell that he wasn't happy about that answer.

"I can tell my mom though. She'll be glad to hear I'm being a normal teenage girl." I was hoping it would appease him. At least a little.

It appeared to help, because his eyes cleared ever so slightly.

"Were you hunting bears on Goat Rocks last weekend?" I asked, needing to change the subject.

"Yes."

"You know, bears are not in season," I said severely. I'd done a search online last night to verify that fact.

"If you read carefully, the laws only covered hunting with weapons," he informed me.

I blinked, trying to keep my shock hidden. "Why bears?"

"Grizzly is Emmett's favorite." His voice was still off-hand, but his eyes were scrutinizing my reaction.

"Hmmm," I said, taking another bite of pizza as an excuse to look down. I chewed slowly, and then took a drink of Coke without looking up.

"So," I said after a moment, finally meeting his now-anxious gaze. "What's your favorite?"

He raised an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth turned down in disapproval. "Mountain lion."

"Ah," I said in a politely disinterested tone, looking for my soda again.

"Of course," he said, and his tone mirrored mine, "We have to be careful not to impact the environment with injudicious hunting. We try to focus on areas with an overpopulation of predators – ranging as far away as we need. There's always plenty of deer and elk here, and they'll do, but where's the fun in that?" He smiled teasingly.

Deer were plenty fun, if by fun he meant a pain in the ass. I knew, I'd gone hunting with Charlie for deer before. Of course, we'd been using rifles, and he'd said they didn't use weapons. "Where indeed ," I murmured around another bite of pizza.

"Early spring is Emmett's favorite bear season – they're just coming out of hibernation, so they're more irritable." He smiled at some remembered joke.

"Nothing more fun than an irritated grizzly," I agreed, nodding, replacing fun with terrifying in my head.

He snickered, shaking his head. "Tell me what you're really thinking, please."

"I'm trying to picture it – but I can't," I admitted. "How do you hunt a bear without weapons?"

"Oh, we have weapons." He flashed his bright teeth in a brief, threatening smile. I fought back a shiver before it could expose me. "Just not the kind they consider when writing hunting laws. If you've ever seen a bear attack on television, you should be able to visualize Emmett hunting."

I couldn't stop the next shiver that flashed down my spine. I peeked across the cafeteria toward Emmett, grateful that he wasn't looking my way. The thick bands of muscle that wrapped his arms and torso were somehow even more menacing now.

Edward followed my gaze and chuckled. I stared at him, unnerved.

"Are you like a bear, too?" I asked in a low voice.

"More like the lion, or so they tell me," he said lightly. "Perhaps our preferences are indicative."

I tried to smile. "Perhaps," I repeated. But my mind was filled with opposing images that I couldn't merge together. "Is that something I might get to see?"

"Absolutely not!" His face turned even whiter than usual, and his eyes were suddenly furious. I leaned back, stunned and – though I'd never admit it aloud – frightened by his reaction. He leaned back as well, folding his arms across his chest.

"Too scary for me?" I asked when I could control my voice again.

"If that were it, I would take you out tonight," he said, his voice cutting. "You need a healthy dose of fear. Nothing could be more beneficial to you."

"Then why?" I pressed, trying to ignore his angry expression.

He glared at me for a long moment.

"Later," he finally said. He was on his feet in one lithe movement. "We're going to be late."

I glanced around, startled to see that he was right and the cafeteria was nearly vacant. When I was with him, the time and the place were such a muddled blur that I completely lost track of both. I jumped up, grabbing my bag from the back of my chair.

"Later, then," I agreed. I wouldn't forget.