20. IMPATIENCE

Edward drove through the night and he didn't stop until dusk of the following day. I slept through most of it, maybe because of the stress or maybe because I was avoiding talking about what came next—especially when Edward couldn't give me answers I wanted.

I remember we stopped once, because Edward insisted that I have something to eat. Considering we were on the run, I convinced Edward that fast food wouldn't kill me, and honestly there was something about greasy food that helped bite down my stress levels. Charlie's hamburgers may have been all-beef, but A & W served theirs saturated in…well, I'd never worked in the fast food business, but whatever unholy combination of fats, oils, and grease they used, it sure worked. Plus, I was a sucker for A & W root beer. I remembered Dad had a soft spot for root beer floats and I felt a little guilty and worried not knowing if he'd have the chance to have one again. I was probably just being a worrywart. Carlisle had called sometime around noon, when I was mindlessly chewing on fries—pacing myself at about a fry per minute, making the process particularly mindless—he'd said my dad was fine. Dad had woken up, but they were keeping him in hospital for observation. I tried not to let that whole observation thing get to me. It was just a precaution. The important thing was he was alive.

Edward must have tried to start a dozen conversations but my one-word answers stifled every attempt. It wasn't that I was trying to kill all conversation; I just didn't have any words. My mind concentrated on not trying not to worry, and that took up all of my concentration. I kept coming back to how stupid my plan was and how it was all my fault Edward's family and my dad were in danger. I'd always been a klutz. No big surprise there, but why right then? Maybe all this dangerous stuff—meeting vampires—it was some stupid fate, straight out of a Greek tragedy. Some tragic prophecy of my dangerous destiny was out there, seen by some oracle, and I'd just hadn't heard about it yet. Even with Edward trying to draw me out of my increasingly depressing thoughts, I kept coming back to that feeling. So much for being optimistic.

We were in L.A. by dusk. Edward found a hotel that wasn't too flashy, but not so off the beaten path that I'd be put in danger—and God knows I didn't need anymore danger—and also for the sake of comfort. We were leaving in the morning, so he thought it wasn't too big of a risk. Carlisle and the rest of the Cullens were watched Victoria and James carefully. Alice was monitoring them nonstop. From what Edward had explained, though vampires didn't need sleep, Alice was exhausting herself. Apparently that meant she needed more blood and, if painkillers worked on vampires she'd have swallowed a pint of them—unfortunately she had to bear an unyielding migraine instead. My guilt levels steadily increased. I'd put their whole family in danger and protecting me—and them—was causing Alice pain. Was there nothing I could do? I felt so helpless.

It felt so good to stretch my legs, and even better to lie down on a bed—even a hotel mattress—that I didn't consider the close quarters Edward and I would be sharing until after I'd settled into the room. It wasn't necessarily the closeness that concerned me, or the one bed thing (again, vampire didn't sleep, so he had no excuse to test those waters). It was that we were so far away from half the reasons that had kept me safe before. His family wasn't around as a reminder that if he suddenly gave into his bloodlust he would displace his family. The people that knew we were together, they were in Forks, miles away. There was no face but mine that reminded him that he couldn't let himself get too thirsty or get too close that he couldn't control himself. Another problem was that we were in close quarters in a city—that severely lessened the amount of wild animals he could feed on and honestly I wouldn't be too comfortable hearing if he fed on someone's beloved pet. That meant he had nothing close by to satisfy his thirst if he got too good a whiff of my delicious scent. Plus he was guarding me, terrified to give me any space at all in case James snuck in through the window or something, so he was trapped at my side. How long could we go on like that? I understood that Edward didn't plan on staying in the room longer than the one night—which hopefully meant my scent wouldn't cling to the room too much for him to bear—and having the windows down in the car hadn't helped keep my scent clear of him (and he'd been holding his breath the whole time).

I was afraid to ask, in case the answer was bad, so I asked the cowardly way, by not being specific. I sat up on the bed and traced over Edward's stiff figure. He was so tense and he watched me unflinchingly. He didn't move or even blink to give any sign he'd noticed me looking at him. At first I'd wondered if maybe he was staring into space, or was preoccupied by thoughts, but he spoke, sending a chill up my spine. Edward was the farthest thing from human sometimes; reminders like that always spooked me.

"If you're tired you can sleep," he said evenly. "You're safe here."

I knew the reason he had to say such on obvious thing out loud wasn't because he was only worried about James or Victoria. He'd been thinking the same thing as me. I shifted closer to the end of the bed, closer to him, and crossed my legs. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice low.

He blinked. "I'm fine."

I combed my hand back through my hair and looked out the window. It was impossible to maintain an unwavering gaze like he did, and trying to compete only awakened the instincts in me that told me being this close to a vampire was a bad idea. "I've slept enough," I whispered. "I'm not tired."

"You are tired," he insisted. "I can see it."

I rolled my eyes. Sure my eyes were tired and dry and probably had a zillion little red lines scraping across the white, but I refused to be tired. If Edward had to sit and guard me, then I would be on guard duty too. I'd been so tried during the day that I'd left him alone, and that wasn't fair. He had so much more to lose than I did. For all the guilt I felt, it didn't lessen the intensity of his gaze. I wouldn't leave him to worry by himself well I achieved peace of mind through the human ritual of sleep. We'd make it through the night together.

"It's weird, but I'd gotten used to the stars," I said with a small smile. "You can see the whole sky in Forks—except when it rains, of course." I laughed uneasily. It was painfully obvious I was trying to distract Edward with conversation. "I've always been such a city girl—probably because that's how Renee likes it—I didn't realize that maybe I'm not such a city girl after all." I leaned back, arms behind me for support, still watching the small strip of sky over the head of the building across the street. "I've learned a lot in Forks."

"Do you prefer it?" Edward asked.

My eyes followed his voice. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to me. If I leaned forward and reached for him I could touch him, but he sat on the edge to keep some distance between us. That worried me.

Edward leaned forward, hands folded and forearms on his knees. "Do you prefer living in Forks?" he asked. "After all that's happened?"

I straightened and watched his body tense again. "I do," I said. "I don't know when it happened, but at some point I lost the me that would've said the opposite was true. I've changed, I think. Or maybe I've always been this way but didn't realize it. Whatever. I'm too tired for deep thinking."

He twisted to look over his shoulder at me. He smiled slightly. "I told you so."

My eyes widened. I blinked and my mouth popped open.

"You're tried," he reminded me. "And I can see it."

I scrunched my nose and smirked. "Congratulations. You're so clever."

His smile widened, and then he seemed to remember everything at once, and he faced away from me again. "We will be travelling again tomorrow. You'll need to rest."

"I'll rest later," I said, slight irritation in my tone. It was because I was actually a little tried, and I hated being told what to do. That was the last thing I wanted right now. "I'll sleep when you sleep."

Edward straightened sharply. "That's ridiculous, Bella."

I shrugged. "Then stop insisting I sleep and I won't be ridiculous."

He twisted his body to face me again. "Why are you being so insistent that you won't sleep?"

I frowned. "You said that you're fine. You lied."

His brow furrowed. He held my gaze for a minute, thoughts of what to say clearly moving through his head, but he made no excuses. He drew his legs up, moving closer to me and he crossed his legs too, situating himself beside me. "I don't want to worry you more—not more than you already have."

"Don't worry about worrying me," I told him in a low voice, shifting to face him better. "You worry about worrying me. I worry about worrying you. It's a vicious circle. It's better if we only worry about what we have to, right? So stop worrying about me. I'm safe. I'm fine."

Edward's eyes tilted down to his hands, once again folded on his lap. "For now."

I put my hand over his hands. "With me out of the way, it shouldn't be that hard to take care of James and Victoria, right? That's six versus two. Those are good odds, aren't they?"

"From what Alice has seen," he admitted, "I doubt James and Victoria will be too challenging, even with James' unusual talent. I'm not saying it will be seamless, but possible. The problem now is catching them. Victoria has a talent for escaping, and there is only so much Alice can predict with a talent like that working against all our plans."

I drew in breath and held it. Alice could see what was going to happen, and yet Victoria still managed to find a way to get away. That sounded risky. "Are they in danger?"

Edward shook his head once. "Victoria's talent doesn't seem to pose a risk for my family getting hurt. It only means this will take longer than we thought. It will take meticulous planning." Edward's eyes turned up to the left. "It would be easier if I had stayed."

My eyes narrowed and my brow pulled together. "How would you being there help?"

"If I was there I could read Victoria's thoughts and James', to anticipate her route quicker," Edward said. "Alice can see the changes in their futures from anywhere. I can't do much good from this far away." He hung his head. "I was too rash. I could only think of getting you to safety in the moment, rather than what might be better for all of us."

Without realizing, my hand drew back an inch, paused in the air. I'd moved away from him. A second later, Edward had taken my hand and brought it to his cheek.

"I never understood before what it meant," he whispered. "Love is blind."

"What does it mean?" I asked.

He smirked and met my eyes. "I can't see clearly, not when it's you," he said. "I make choices to be near you, instead of choosing what's best. I promise I used to be more rational. My decisions, of late, have been very short-sighted."

A small laugh spread my lips. "You can't see the future, Edward. It's okay to make a short-sighted decision every once in a while, you know."

Edward's eyes lightened, the worry pushed back in his mind, and we shared a smile for a long moment. Edward moved forward, very slowly, eyes tracing down from my eyes to my lips. His kissed me once, softly, and then drew back. "Thank you."

I felt a small tingle in my stomach and my cheeks were surely rosy. "Thank you," I said quietly.

"You're much more resilient than I give you credit for," he complimented. "You've been forced to face so much, and yet here you are, with me, and…still able to smile. You're very brave, Bella."

"Exactly why you shouldn't worry so much." I perked a brow.

Edward laughed and then kissed my forehead.

I yawned. Edward grinned, his eyes teasing me without words. I blushed. Despite my insistence, my body was working against me.

"I am not sleeping," I said, narrowing my eyes.

"I didn't say anything," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

I rolled my eyes. "No, not in words. But I can see it in your eyes."

He pressed his lips together, resisting laughter—and probably the urge to let out 'I told you so'. He slipped off the bed using his vampire speed, and was on my opposite side in half a second. "Why not humour me a little, and just rest. If you fall asleep, then so be it. If not, then…you can hold it over me forever."

I rolled my eyes, but my smiled had returned. It was a fair bargain, and Edward was in a good mood, so I figured it was safe to let myself relax a little. "Why not. I'll humour you. If you humour me too." I shifted back and then propped up the pillows behind me.

"And what do you want me to do exactly?" The good mood had shadowed over, still present, but behind a shade of something eager and uncontrolled.

"Relax with me," I said. I hoped I wasn't being too vague because I definitely didn't want Edward too relax too much—he was still a vampire trapped in a small room with a delicious blood-bag—but I knew we both needed something to distract us from the worry, and keep us from going crazy. Based on my own feelings, and that unblinking stare he'd been giving me earlier, it was an immediate, pressing need.

Edward eyed me for a moment. First his expression held a measure of surprise, and then, gradually, hunger replaced it. He eyed me with renewed want. He stepped forward, and then paused. He met my eyes and a question lingered in his eyes. He wanted rules, boundaries; he needed me to tell him how far he was allowed to go. He was beside me in the time it took me to blink, wearing the same expression. His fingers traced over my cheek, moving back through my hair, down across the back of my neck. His face neared and I closed my eyes. He kissed my lips, once soft and small, and then again. I felt his breath on my neck. I heard him breathe in. My hand found his side and his arms found my waist—and then he was gone. I opened my eyes to find him across the room, hands gripping the window tightly, a small crack in the frame. His body was hunched and tight. He'd needed fresh air. As much as he'd gotten used to my scent, it was new being in a confined space with my mouth-watering scent for over twenty-four hours. The alarm clock beside me read that it was 11 o'clock, an hour until midnight. He really had been locked up with my scent for over a whole day, and I'd even riled him up a little…he was doing better than I gave him credit for.

"Will you…be alright…?" I hated to ask. I didn't really want to know the truth; there was only one answer that wasn't dangerous.

He drew his head back into the room. "I'm fine," he promised. "But I can't…"—his eyes tightened—"I won't hurt you, Bella."

I let my head fall back onto the pillows. Whenever he said it out loud, it was a way of reassuring himself that he had the strength to resist—he said it because he was afraid he would, someday. It didn't make me feel better, and it never would, not when he couldn't say it and mean it—not completely.

"I'm not worried," I lied.

Edward exhaled heavily. He crossed the room to the other side of the bed. He stood beside it and examined it, trying to guess at how risky it was to get close to me again. I rolled my head to the side, watched him deliberate silently, and waited until his eyes found mine.

"Have you ever tried to sleep?" I asked, an awkward attempt to bring back the good mood by starting a low-stakes conversation. "Since you became a vampire."

The corners of Edward's lips quirked upward before he managed to resist and his lips became a line again. "Once."

"What happened?"

His resistance proved futile. He smiled. "Nothing. I stayed awake."

"Huh." I rolled my head again and turned my eyes to the ceiling. There was a strange spot above my head. The shape reminded me a lot of a cat, except with a snub tail, like a lynx.

I felt Edward's weight fall onto the bed. He lay beside me. I watched the ceiling stain for a few more seconds, and then my eyes wandered to the alarm clock to my right. I watched it change as a minute passed. There was half an hour until midnight. I tossed one of the pillows from under my neck onto the floor—as two made my neck ache—and rolled onto my side to face Edward. As expected, he was watching me.

"You told me it wasn't the first time you'd lived in Forks," I remembered. "How many times have you lived there before?"

"Two times before this," he said.

"So you…do you consider Forks your home?" I wondered.

His eyes turned away a moment. "I…would. It is certainly a place my family has felt most comfortable. There are very few places we've lived in more than once, and other than Forks, I don't believe there's another place I would consider coming back to." He met my eyes again. "Why?"

I shrugged my right shoulder, the shoulder that wasn't pressed into the mattress. "We've both lived in a lot of places and we've both been pulled to Forks a few times in our lives. Mind you, my Dad lives there whereas you've come back with decades in between your visits…but I was just curious."

"About where I consider my home to be?"

"Sure, I guess." I frowned. "And maybe…I'm wondering if Forks is special, or if…maybe it's a coincidence."

Edward rolled onto his side and propped his head up with his palm, elbow pressed into the mattress. He'd ditched his second pillow too. "We've only been gone a day," he said. His eyes narrowed. "Do you miss Forks already?"

My eyes fell a moment, considering his question. I hadn't felt homesick before—was that was this feeling was? We'd only been out of Forks a day, and I'd slept most of it. No, the things I felt had to do with the two dangerous vampires hunting me and threatening the vampires I'd come to like. That didn't change the fact that I now knew, now that I'd had to leave, that for once I had a place I didn't want to leave.

"Bella?"

I hadn't realized I'd been so focused on my thoughts that I hadn't spoken for a few minutes. I smiled apologetically and inhaled deeply. "Sorry."

"You're worrying again," he observed. His brow furrowed, and then his expression calmed. "Leaving Forks concerns you. I didn't think it would be this difficult for you."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not that…" I fell onto my back and crossed my arms above my head. "But…I've never left a place before and looked back. I've never been sad about leaving a place before. I've had regrets about moving around so much with Mom but it wasn't so much the place we were leaving. It was because I had to start over again. I've never had permission to settle somewhere before. In Forks, I have Dad. And then I met you…" My head rose and I nodded once at him and then let my head drop down. "I don't think homesickness has anything to do with what's worrying me. Like you said, it's only been a day."

Edward reached over and his fingers moved a loose strand of my hair from my face. "You're worried about my family. And about Charlie."

"And anyone else those two might hurt to get at me," I added. "Who knows what James will do if he wants to kill me bad enough. He already broke into my house and hurt my dad."

"But you will miss Forks," Edward said, "If we're away for long."

I pressed my lips together. I didn't want to think about how long I'd be gone. I wanted James and Victoria gone, but some naïve part of me thought it might take a week, maybe a few weeks. The human in me made that amount of time seem very patient and realistic. In an immortal's world, I was much too impatient; the time I thought was long was a blink for a vampire. How long would I be away from the place I was trying to make into my very first home?

I exhaled sharply. "I'm not looking forward to it," I admitted, "being homesick."

He chuckled. He'd moved closer, less afraid he'd be tempted by my scent, so long as he stayed in control.

"At least I have you," I said. I turned my head to the side.

Edward's face, a few inches from mine, didn't look even slightly pleased at the notion. He frowned. His brow furrowed. He was worried that he wasn't safe enough for me. "If you want me to stay…"

"Of course I want you to stay," I argued, seeing the look in his eyes.

"If I stay, then it can't be like this," he said.

"Like what? You mean in a shabby, cramped hotel room?" I perked a brow and grinned. "In that case, I agree."

"I supposed a bigger space would help," he agreed. His eyes wandered the room, not entirely convinced that spacing was the main issue. His body stilled and only his eyes moved, searching my face for some sign I understood. "If I were to hurt you, I would never forgive myself. If I didn't do something worse…"

"Then don't do something worse," I said quickly. "We'll go somewhere with more fresh air."

"I don't just mean right now, Bella," he said, his tone harder, deep and uncompromising. His eyes were guarded. "Your blood…it's sweet scent, rich and deep…indescribable…"—he was hovering over me in a blink—"Being around you more, it makes it easier to bear, but that doesn't mean I forget. Too often there's a moment when I can almost taste it through your skin." His leaned closer, his lips so close to my neck. He breathed in shakily. "I've been able to remind myself how much I love you in those moments, but…"—his hand traced across my clavicle and then touched the base of my neck—"I'm afraid that there might come a day I forget for too long…one day where all the conditions work against us…maybe a time when I haven't fed recently enough…if things get too heated between us…if I lose control for one second too long…" He shot back and sat up beside me. "Your mortality makes this dangerous."

It only took my mind a second to process his suggestion. At first I laid there, completely blank. The moment I realized what he proposed as a solution, I shot up to a seated position with enough speed that even Edward was surprised. My heart thumped hard and heavily in my chest. My limbs tightened; my stomach churned. My whole body felt repulsed. I started to shake my head, to say anything, but I pushed myself back into the pillow and hugged my arms around my legs. I couldn't speak. I turned my head away from him.

"Bella, please, don't think I want to change you," he said.

"You think it's dangerous for me, being human," I murmured weakly, "being around you and human, being around your family and human." I exhaled slowly, heavily, and shook my head once. "You want to change me."

"I want to be with you," he said, trying to twist his solution into something gentle. "But living in my world is dangerous. You've seen that."

I faced him again. Lips pursed. Eyes narrowed. Brow furrowed. Nothing he said made the idea of becoming a vampire more appealing. Yes it was dangerous being a mortal dating an immortal. Yet I knew it might only be a matter of time before something happened that couldn't be healed. But through it all I wanted to be me. I didn't want a blood diet. Maybe I was the only person who didn't like the idea of living forever, but that was how I felt. I thought of the night Edward had rescued me in that Port Angeles alley and what he was capable of. I never wanted to be capable of murder.

"I won't ask you to decide anything tonight," he continued. He dropped his gaze down. "I don't mean to force this…possibility…but I hope that you will consider it."

My face tightened with a sudden feeling of frustration and anger. He wanted me to consider it. It was a very fair request. But it irked me. "I'd rather not."

Edward's gaze moved gradually toward me. He took that time to conceal his own feeling of frustration that had slipped through when I first spoke, but transformed into an expression of control—not quite calm though, as it was clear in his eyes he wanted to argue with me. "Why?" he asked. His one word, much too controlled and plain, made it clear that he would have loved to say thousands of reasons why I should agree without hesitation. His one word was a challenge for me to say one reason that could be enough to counter his thousands of reasons.

"I don't want to be a vampire, Edward," I mumbled. The last thing I wanted to do was start an argument. It was difficult to restrain my irritation and speak with a civil tone. "And you won't be changing my mind tonight. So let's not talk about this, okay?"

Edward's eyes tightened. "You won't even consider it."

"I think my dad would notice if my skin wasn't warm anymore and I stopped having meals with him," I argued, feigning a complete lack of enthusiasm. The only way to keep this from becoming an argument was to act calm. "I would stop aging too, and even my mom would notice that someday."

Edward frowned. His eyes flickered over my face, seeing how sincere my answer was. "You would have to say goodbye before they noticed. Everyone human. You'd have to leave them."

My heart squeezed sharply. "That's a pretty good reason to not consider it."

"What about the danger you're in," he countered. "What about Charlie? He's in danger too."

My muscles tensed. My irritation grew. "I didn't ask for this, you know."

"Which is why you should consider all options," he said, "since you are in such an uncomfortable situation."

"Uncomfortable?" I pushed back, the pillow scrunching behind me. I almost said something out of anger, but I inhaled deeply and shook my head. I refused to turn this into a fight. "Edward, we'll figure this out without turning to drastic measures."

"It may be a weighted choice, but I think it deserves—"

"Nothing I've seen has made me like vampires," I interrupted. "Your family—I admit that they seem mostly likeable and aren't nearly as weird as I thought they'd be—but then there are vampires like James and Victoria. They're exactly like vampires in horror stories. I don't want to turn into that."

His eyes widened. "Bella—"

"My mortality won't be changing. I don't want—"

The phone rang—it only barely began the sound, but Edward had the phone pressed to his ear. If it weren't for the fact that every phone call might count, I would've accused him of avoiding my answer, and maybe I would've forced him to listen to me. Edward had been hinting at that frightening solution before the whole James and Victoria mess began. He should've known it was too early to consider such a drastic change. Me? Vampire? That was the last thing I wanted.

Angrily, I ripped back the covers and shoved myself under. I closed my eyes and ignored Edward's muffled whispers. I'd heard him say Alice's name right away, but then his voice had dropped low. I'd ask later. For now, I needed to let my anger dissipate and try not to let Edward's rashness bother me. He'd said before that love was blind, that it made him blind. Maybe this was one of those choices that he hadn't stopped to fully consider yet. I know I hadn't thought much about it either, but I didn't want to think about it now. If ever I was going to consider it, now—when lives were on the line—was not the right time. Big decisions needed to be made with calm, rational minds, after carefully considering all evidence and options. Edward had a point, sure, but so did I! We just needed to survive James and Victoria and then maybe, if I was in a good mood, I'd allow Edward to bring it up again when we returned to Forks—whenever that may be.

After nearly an hour of whispered discussion, Edward's voice started to get louder—loud enough that I could make out some of his words. I heard something about taking me to an island, and then Edward mentioned the coven in Denali, also vegetarian vampires, like the Cullens. Edward hadn't told me too much about them, except that they were like extended family—but guessing from Edward's long sigh, Alice (or whoever was on the other end of the line) had inevitably brought up that it wasn't fair to put them in danger. I heard Edward said something that sounded like he didn't want to leave me, and then he sighed again, this time, though more aggravated, he sounded resolved. He was silent for a long, excruciating minute. My ears were strained trying to hear a clue of what decision had been made. I threw down the covers and sat up just as Edward reached toward me and offered the phone.

"Alice wishes to say hello," he said with a clipped tone.

Hesitantly, I took the receiver. Edward wasn't looking at me. He was clearly upset. I couldn't tell if it was because of his conversation with Alice or if what we'd discussed prior to the call was weighing on him. I touched the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Bella!" Alice cheered loudly. "Good news! You'll be seeing me tomorrow! Don't worry; I'm not driving while talking on the phone. Jasper is driving. Currently."

"I wasn't worried," I said. I doubted Alice would have any trouble with her talents allowing her to see any potential collisions miles away. "I'm sure you're perfectly capable of driving and talking."

"I'm glad you have such faith in me," Alice laughed, "because Jasper and I are taking over the watch."

"You and Jasper—"

"We're your new babysitters!"

I tried to catch Edward's eye, but he'd moved to the window. He stood there, arms crossed, and as tense and solid as a rock. Alice had probably told him this was the best choice. Even though he didn't like it, he was resigned to listen to his psychic sister.

"Edward's going back to Forks," I assumed.

Alice was quiet for half a second, and when she spoke again her voice was serious. "This is the way it has to be. If he stays with you much longer…"—she exhaled sharply—"Bella, I'm so sorry. It's too much too soon for him. We can't risk it. I've seen…that it won't end well. Do you understand?"

I closed my eyes and swallowed a lump in my throat. "I understand," I whispered, my voice so quiet only a vampire could've heard it. I opened my eyes in time to catch Edward turning to face the window again. His shoulders slumped. He hated to admit it, but he was ready to be alone with me for so long. He didn't trust himself. Now that Alice had seen it, seen exactly how horrible it could—and would—get, he had to put some space between us.

"James knows that Edward wants to keep you close," Alice reasoned. "This will work to our advantage. He'll be thrown off."

I knew this wasn't the main reason; it was just a side effect. I swallowed again and tried to put strength into my voice. "I hope so."

"Charlie was released half an hour ago," Alice said. Her tone was warm and genuinely optimistic. "When he first woke up, he forgot you'd gone and said he had to call you before you got worried. His memory is still fuzzy, but now he remembers you took off. He thinks he must've tripped or something. He didn't see James. That's all we know for now."

Relief spread through my body, relaxing every muscle. I felt a smile come easily. It was the first good news, and it was enough.

"He could only remember that the Cullens had something to do with it, so Esme told him that I went with you," Alice said. "Edward, Jasper and I tagged along because we thought you seemed stressed and needed some time away. Esme lied and said she was very upset that you hadn't told him that we were going with you, and she pretended to be upset because she thought we'd gotten Charlie's permission. It's become a rebellious teenage melodrama that Charlie will easily be able to understand."

Again, I was relieved. It was amusing to hear how they'd made what was supposed to be a terrorizing event about me running away (from two vampires) into four teenagers skipping town for a weekend. It sounded…normal, rebellious, but definitely normal. "I'll definitely be grounded," I said, "but at least Charlie will understand. I think."

"Esme told him that she'd spoken with you over the phone and asked you to call him," Alice continued. "We're worried about James tracking you down via phone—he's abnormally tech savvy for such a wild man—he was even at the school going through records—he's bold. So you're not going to phone Charlie. So far we're leading with 'Bella is too angry and rebellious right not, so she's not going to call yet'."

I frowned. "I don't think that will hold Charlie off for long."

"All the more reason to fix this lickety-split," she agreed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I look forward to it," I said, not knowing if it was a lie or the truth. As much as I liked Alice, she herself had called herself my babysitter. I didn't like how fragile I was, and liked it being pointed out even less. Not that becoming less fragile, as Edward suggested, would make me any happier. I wanted to fit in as I was. Usually Alice made me feel content about being mortal; I was a nice contrast next to her.

"Oh, one more thing, Bella," she spoke. Her voice dropped. "Ask Edward to leave the room a moment, please."

My eyebrows pinched together. I looked at Edward. He turned slowly, his expression the same as mine: confused, yet curious. He'd been listening.

"Edward," I said. "Alice wants—"

"I heard," he said without waiting for the request. His fists clenched. His chest swelled with air. He stared at the phone with a great amount of malice. In the end, he just shook his head and headed for the door. "I'll walk to the elevators and back. That's all the time she has. If I hear anything because she takes too long, that's on her."

"Edward said you don't have long," I warned her.

Edward slipped out the door. I heard the door click, a few seconds passed, and then Alice spoke.

"When the phone rings tomorrow morning," Alice said, "Edward will be out. Answer the phone, Bella."

I laughed. "That's what Edward couldn't hear?"

"Remember when I said I don't just see stuff, but I feel it too?" she asked.

For a second, I couldn't speak. I nodded, but I knew she couldn't see it. I cleared my throat, but she didn't wait.

"The things I see are almost always changeable," she explained. "Sometimes I get a feeling about something…too strong to ignore, and…Bella, there's never been a time I've been able to change it, when I get a feeling like this. I think it's"—she paused—"…fate. Whether you believe in fate or not, I know that some things are meant to be. You meeting Edward, for example."

"And this phone call tomorrow?" I questioned. "This is fate too? Who's phoning? My dad? You?"

"Don't tell Edward," she said. "That's all I know."

I wanted to throw a million questions at her, but a chill came over me, and I had a strange feeling that maybe I did believe in fate. I knew Alice wasn't wrong. I knew when it came to the future Alice was the authority. It was impossible to question that. My only concern was whether this fate would be something good. The shivers up my spine argued otherwise.

"Alice, do you like being a vampire?" I asked, in an attempt to shove away the other questions that bothered me about my future.

"It's all I've ever known," she countered. "I have no memory of being human, so I have nothing to compare it to. This has always been my life. And I'm very happy."

I sighed. I knew I'd asked the wrong person. If Rosalie didn't scare the beejeebies out of me, I would've asked her.

The door clicked open and Edward walked in. He didn't announce himself or pause when he entered the room. He immediately went for the phone and scooped it out of my hand. "You've had enough time," he said. "Now I'm going to make Bella explain why this secret of yours is so important." He hung up the phone without so much as a goodbye. He was upset, but he'd still allowed Alice to keep a secret from him. It was amazing how much trust he had that her ability had to be honoured.

"I'm not going to tell you, Edward," I warned him. "Alice was very—"

"Was it about what will happen if I stay with you?" he questioned. "Or was it something else?"

I was stunned. Honestly, I didn't know how to answer. Alice had been vague. I couldn't even give him a vague answer because I didn't know the truth. I could say one thing, trying to reassure him, and it might turn out to be a lie.

Edward eyes narrowed. "Was it about something she saw or something she sensed?"

"The latter," I said quickly, jumping at the chance to prove that I did want to be honest, I just couldn't. "She said it was important that you didn't know, Edward."

"So you won't tell me." His whole frame was rigid. He wanted me to tell him, to ignore Alice's warnings. He wouldn't ask me to, but he wanted to.

I shook my head. He exhaled slowly, heavily. He moved to the window again. "Fine," he allowed. "I'll find out the truth someday."

I stared back at the phone. Alice had given me relief that my dad was okay and then she'd given me an ominous prediction about a call for me. If being a vampire meant I got some whacky gift that gave such mixed results, I had even more reason to not become a vampire. Edward could read minds, but he also couldn't stay out of anyone's head. The only break he got was me; even that blessing was a curse to him, since he couldn't read me so easily, which I knew annoyed him at times. Jasper could feel people's emotions and alter them, but unfortunately feeling what others are feeling could be overwhelming and exhausting. Not that I expected I would be that special—after all, Rosalie only got super beauty and Emmett had even more vampire strength—but still, it was a risk. I preferred being normal. I had enough skills and deficiencies with being merely human; I didn't need super skills and super deficiencies.

I pulled up the covers again and stared up at the ceiling. If I stared at the phone any longer, Edward would've been suspicious. Instead I lay awake for another hour, wondering who would call me and what it meant. Alice hadn't sounded joyful about it, but I wasn't very good at understanding her sometimes. Maybe it was because the call was so important that she'd sounded so serious. Maybe I needed to take the call because it was the only future in which they'd easily defeat James and Victoria. I hoped desperately that I wouldn't mess up Alice's plans. I had to do exactly as she said if there was any hope of ending this. I truly believed that, so that's what I would do.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

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