A/N Twilight isn't mine.
Thank you SO much for all the reviews - you moved me to tears. Thanks to Sherryola for her help on this chapter, which has been a struggle to no end to write. Thanks to Deb too, who in the end didn't lock me up to write but fed me wine and then more wine instead. She also gave me a hardcover edition of the story I wrote for her, so I now have my own book. Switzerland, in short, was fab :)
Sorry for the late update. Real Life... Unfortunately you can't turn it off when you're fed up with it. I hope you will like this chapter. Enjoy!
I sit in my rocking chair for hours before I finally feel I am able to go to bed. Just swaying gently, huddled under Renée's quilt and looking into the darkness. I feel strangely neutral, and it takes me a long while to realize that I am actually relaxing. Slowly but gradually, as if consciously, I feel my tense muscles uncoil, until I am leaning drowsily against the back of the chair, my head lolling a bit with heavy exhaustion.
Edward saw me cry. I didn't care at the moment, and even now the expected mortification stays away. He didn't ignore me, didn't walk away in disgust. He didn't curse at me or lash out in any other way. It was as if he felt I was really confused and just unable to keep my cool for a moment.
He didn't judge.
Instead, he made me tea. With the kettle on the stove. Then I remember an earlier nightly meeting we had in that same kitchen. He didn't even know how to ignite the pit then. And last week on the porch, he said 'I boiled water and everything.' Then how did he make tea beforehand?
Oh my, did he nuke his water in the microwave?
I shudder involuntary at the thought. But now, he made me tea, twice. And he boiled water and everything. For me.
Breathing in and out deeply, I decide not even to try to make sense of it all. I don't know why he would be nice to me like this. There must be some sort of catch.
Honestly, there's no such thing as altruism.
When I can't keep my eyes open anymore, I set the alarm on my phone and get ready for bed. It still feels almost unnatural to wear satin pajamas and slide in between cool sheets, knowing there's a good chance I will be able to sleep undisturbed.
It's unbelievable.
Sleep washes over me like a thick blanket and for the first time in a very long time, I sleep deeply, without dreams.
The next day starts as usual, but different. I sit up in bed and listen to the household getting ready for the day, as I often do. But this time I am rubbing my face, feeling disoriented and groggy with the heavy remnants of sleep that won't seem to leave my body, my head. I feel fuzzy, and strangely alive.
It has been ages since I had such a good night of sleep. Usually I am more alert and wake up several times during the night. But last night, I didn't. I don't think I even dreamed.
I step out of bed and stretch languorously before I shuffle into the bathroom to get ready for my day.
Not even the tight anxiety over the upcoming meeting with the principal that looms can pull me from this fuzzy state of mind.
Arriving in the kitchen, hot coffee and a newspaper await me, as usual. I fix myself some cereal and sit down at the table, eating and reading, and feeling strangely relaxed.
I don't even startle that much when Esme steps into the kitchen.
"Good morning, Bella," she smiles. "How are you this morning?"
I give a slight smile and a nod to let her know I'm okay, and then point at her with the hand that holds my spoon still.
"I'm good, thank you. Did you sleep well? You look tired."
I smile to myself, not sure if it shows on the outside or not. Of course I look tired. My eyes still feel tiny and my body still feels like it's half asleep. But contrary to what Esme thinks, I slept very well.
And this makes me feel so content I look up at Esme and smile at her with my half-closed eyes, a dreamy look certainly still on my face.
"Oh," Esme says, breathing out a laugh as she speaks, "I take it you slept very well?"
I nod at her now, and Esme smiles. "It's such a wonderful feeling to wake up after a really good night of sleep. I'm glad you slept well. Let me put some laundry in the dryer while you finish breakfast, and then perhaps we can talk a bit about the meeting with the principal?"
I nod in confirmation, although I'm not sure what Esme would want to discuss.
I finish my breakfast and rinse out my bowl before I put it in the dishwasher. Then I pour two mugs of coffee and wait for Esme to return so we can talk.
She returns shortly after and looks pleasantly surprised when she sees the steaming coffee waiting for her. "Thank you, that's sweet of you."
She produces a notepad and pen from a kitchen drawer, which I follow warily with my eyes as she walks to the table and sits down with me.
I pull my sleeves over my hands and wrap them around my mug as I wait for Esme to start talking. This conversation can go into a thousand directions and about 999 of them are bad, so I will myself to sit still and listen.
"You're tense," she observes. "Take a deep breath."
I do as I'm told and as always I'm surprised that it actually helps to calm me down somewhat.
"Do you want to tell me what you are nervous about?"
My gaze fixed at my coffee, I shake my head in tiny movements.
Please don't make me say it. Please don't get mad because I am tense.
Stefan would get so angry when he noticed I was more tense than usual. It would irk the shit out of him. Which he would act out on me, of course.
"Are you nervous about going to school?"
Not exactly, no. I'm nervous about the new people.
"Talk to me Bella, please. I'm on your side in this. I want to help you, but you have to let me."
Sighing in annoyance, I pull the notepad towards me and write three words.
First day jitters.
Esme smiles, but it's a half-hearted one. "I think you are more than a little bit nervous about your first day. But that's okay. That's why we are doing it this way. Now, please try to tell me if there is anything you want to say?"
Chewing my lip, I try to think of a way to tell Esme I don't want attention. I just want to move under the radar and follow my lessons. Studying, in itself, to me is pure bliss. As such I really want to go to school. Six hours a day of gathering knowledge, and having a sense of purpose in doing my homework. Six hours a day of being away from the house, of minding my own business. Six hours of relaxation.
After the novelty wears off, that is. I doubt that starting school here will be easy in terms of attention.
After long moments of thinking I manage to write something down for Esme. I guess it's nice of her to go talk with the principal before I start, but I have to be clear about this.
I'm not a special case.
Esme looks at the paper and I swear I can see a disagreeing look flit over her face before she composes herself.
"Do you mean you don't want any special attention?" she asks neutrally.
I nod.
"Considering you don't speak, I'm not sure how this will work," Esme says softly, honestly.
I reach for the paper again, touched by her concern but annoyed all the same.
Managed fine in Phoenix.
"That you did," she agrees. "But it mustn't have been easy for you to start there, right? Or did you start class at the beginning of a semester?"
I shake my head. I started school in Phoenix in the middle of the semester. I can barely remember how that went. Plus, it was a big school, with crowded classrooms and overworked teachers. Within a week, they learned to ignore me and they certainly couldn't complain about my grades.
"Bella, please. You may find it hard to accept, but I am worried for you. I understand you want to go to school, but I also want you to be at ease there."
She waits a moment, probably to see if I understood her words.
"What will you do if you get a panic attack?"
My eyes fly up to hers and I can see the worry etched on her face. Why would she care if I panicked at school or not? Would it embarrass her if that happened?
I shrug, a bit upset by that evil thought, not knowing how to answer her question.
Besides, if I get a panic attack at school, I'll just slip into an empty classroom to sit it out. It really is that simple.
Esme sighs softly, not in an exasperated manner but more as if she doesn't know what to say anymore.
"I don't want to push you, Bella. I'm really just trying to think along with you."
This time, I write.
I'll be fine. I just don't want attention.
"If you say so. I think the attention bit can be hard though in the beginning. Students and teachers alike will be curious."
I nod. I know. I'll get over it.
"Please know that you can come to me anytime Bella, if you have any questions or if you change your mind."
I nod, but I know Esme knows full well I'm not planning on asking anything.
"Do you understand why I want you to meet the principal first?"
I nod slowly. In my view, it's more for Esme than for me, but alas, she seems insistent so I'll tag along. It's better to be cooperative. It always is.
"Very well. Let's go then. Perhaps we can arrange that you won't have to introduce yourself in front of the class," Esme says by way of joke, but then she sees my hopeful face and smiles.
"I'll tell him. Any other things?"
I shake my head, biting my lip again. I still have one big sorrow but I don't know how to voice it. I'll deal with it when it comes, I guess.
Esme leads me to her Ford in the garage and I look out the window as we drive, still amazed at how green everything looks around here. I try to keep my worries at bay and take on a distant demeanor, knowing full well that if I panic today, Esme will never let me go to school.
"Just so you know," Esme interrupts my thinking as we pull up in the parking lot of the school, "I won't blame you or think badly of you if you decide after today that you don't want this. It's okay if you're not ready. Just let me know and we'll arrange home schooling, or you can just relax for a while longer. No consequences, okay Bella?"
I nod at her words, but I find them hard to believe.
Esme nods back at me, her eyes looking searchingly into mine as ever, and exits the car. "Let's go."
I'm nervous, and try to swalow some tension away.
The lot is as good as deserted and considering the hour I'm guessing a new period has just started. Esme guides me inside the main building of the school, walking purposefully through the empty hallways.
I follow her, looking around and taking in my surroundings. It's just like any other school, except perhaps smaller. The same type of dusty floors, blank walls, dull light. Nothing special.
We stop at the administration office and Esme walks in without knocking, holding the door open for me.
"Mrs. Cullen," the woman behind the desk greets her. She's middle aged with a round face and looks up over her half-moon glasses. "You are here for your eleven o'clock appointment?"
"Yes," Esme nods.
"The principal will be ready momentarily. Take a seat."
Esme steps back from the counter, then turns to me. "All well?"
I nod, although I must say I'm more tense than I'd like.
"You sure?"
I do a double take at Esme and a smile twitches at the corner of my mouth. She's very right, of course.
Esme smiles in return. "Remember, you're the one in charge here. If at any moment in time you decide you don't want this, just let me know."
I nod at her. I really hope I will be able to pull this off. I don't like to have to give up on things and it would be nasty if it turned out I couldn't handle it, when I have asked for this myself.
No. I can do this. I will have to.
Just as I finish that thought, the receptionist looks up at us. "Mr. Greene will see you now," she says kindly.
Esme nods, smiling, and turns to me. "Are you ready?"
No.
Let's do this.
She opens the door for me and lets me walk into the principal's office first. Mr. Greene stands as we enter, tugging on his ill-fitting jacket. He's middle-aged, balding. I shy away from him instantly, hesitating just past the doorway and waiting for Esme to come into the room with us.
"Mr. Greene, how nice of you that you would receive us," she says, walking forward, hand outstretched in greeting.
I believe I get to see some true Cullen charm in action here.
Mr. Greene extents his hand in return and Esme shakes it briefly. Then the principal reaches out his hand to me, but I'm still against the back wall and as I don't come closer, his hand hangs suspended in mid-air for a moment until he frowns, clears his throat, tugs on his jacket again, and gestures to the two chairs in front of his desk.
"Have a seat."
Esme dons her coat and sits, then turns in her chair. "Come, Bella. Come join us."
Her look is almost pleading and I know that if I want to be able to try school, I will have to go and sit down in that chair and face this meeting.
But oh Lord, I don't like that man. Don't ask me why, I just don't like him.
Ick.
Ugh.
Clenching my jaws, I undo the buttons on my coat and sit down next to Esme. I want hide my tension but I know it must be rolling off me in waves. It's like everything depends on this meeting. Esme has told me repeatedly that she won't mind if I decide to not go through with this, but I'm not so sure about that and that's apart still from the fact of how disappointed I would be in myself if I wasn't strong enough to pull this through.
I hope Esme will be nice and not try to warn the principal against having me as his student.
"So," Mr. Greene says, "you must be Isabella?"
I wince at the sound of my full name — I can't help it. Esme notices, and comes to my aid.
"She prefers Bella."
"Bella," Mr. Greene repeats. "Very well, Bella. And you want to go to school here?"
He looks at me now, his expression blank, uninterested.
I look at Esme quickly, taking in her encouraging smile, and then nod.
Mr. Greene sighs. "But she doesn't speak." His words are directed at Esme now.
"She doesn't," she says calmly. "But she communicates quite effectively."
Mr. Greene's eyes flick over to me before he looks at Esme again. "Really?" It doesn't even sound like a question.
"Really," she repeats, undisturbed. "She went to school in Phoenix and that went perfectly well, as you can see in her school file. Bella doesn't need any special care," she continues when she looks at me, and I realize she refers to my note from earlier.
"All there is to it, as that she likes to be left alone. You just need to take into consideration that she doesn't speak and I can assure you that this does not have to pose any problem."
"Mrs. Cullen, I have a hard time believing that. How do you know her muteness not plain stubbornness?" He's unimpressed and I think he does what I've encountered often before —by trying to irk me indirectly he wants to get me to say something.
"It's not."
How Esme keeps her patience, I'll never know. Then again, I've wondered about that before, haven't I?
Mr. Greene exhales slowly, hiding his annoyance behind a professional mask. "What do you expect of me?"
As Esme begins talking, I take a moment to look around the office. It's a standard office, filled with mementos from the man's personal life. He's a grandfather. Pictures of his grandkids stand proudly on his desk.
Esme speaks as Mr. Greene asks some questions. I listen as I look at my hands, carefully keeping my emotions numb.
"It's really not much, Mr. Greene. Bella is very bright, you've seen her grades from her school in Phoenix. She just wants to be able to follow lessons."
"What makes you think we can offer Bella all she needs?"
For once, Esme is taken aback. "Needs?"
"Yes, needs. My teachers won't have time to pay extra attention to her, to treat her differently."
"But she doesn't want to be treated differently," Esme says calmly. She seems very convinced of her point.
"Then you tell me how you think she will participate in a class without speaking. I'm sorry Mrs. Cullen, but I'm afraid we won't be able to accommodate Bella here."
"She participates in our family just fine," Esme says. "Mr. Greene, I don't think I understand you. We talked about this on the phone and then you were willing to cooperate."
"Yes, Mrs. Cullen, but that was before I knew the scope of her needs. Surely, a girl this traumatized would be better off when home schooled?"
There it is again. Traumatized. I can't make any sense of that concept.
Mr. Greene continues talking. "Or perhaps a more specialized school? I really do feel that her not talking can become a problem."
"I can assure you it won't," Esme says. "Her not speaking has never been a problem ever since she arrived with us. Bella has asked repeatedly to go to school, and I really do believe it would do her good to do so. She loves to study, it's what makes her happy. She can take care of herself. Besides, there are five children in this school who know her too and who can help her should that be needed."
She's referring to her other kids. Would they really help me? Best not expect too much of that.
Mr. Greene hesitates. Esme pounces.
"Why don't you ask Bella what she wants?"
The principal blinks, then looks at me. "Do you really want to go to school here?"
I nod, uneasy under his scrutinizing gaze.
"And you think you can manage it? Because we don't have time to run after you and assist you."
I shake my head as he talks, hoping to make clear this is not the case. The only thing I want is that teachers won't let me answer questions in class. But surely, back in Phoenix it all worked out just fine. I really don't understand why this meeting is needed.
I look at Esme, frowning, trying to see if she happens to hold a notepad in her lap. I wouldn't put it past her anymore.
Interpreting my searching look right, Esme opens her purse quickly and starts to rummage through it.
If I wasn't so wired up I'd smile.
Esme hands me the notepad and pen and I write, trying to ignore the two sets of eyes on me.
I want this. I won't be any trouble. I don't need anything special.
With a shuddering breath, I give the notepad to Esme, who reads it and gives it to the principal.
The man reads it, then looks at me with a surprised look on his face.
What, did he think I couldn't write?
"See?" Esme says. "Bella can communicate excellently."
"So it seems. So you just write things down when you want to say anything?"
I nod.
"And this works for you?"
I nod again.
"So you will cooperate in communication when asked to?"
I nod. No need to tell him I only answer questions that are worth answering.
"And my teachers won't have to learn to read sign language?"
For a moment I'm appalled at his question, but then I see the tiny sparkle in his eyes.
I shake my head, with conviction this time, confused at his change in demeanor.
This is why I never understand people. Their moods shift like leaves on a tree in the wind.
"Very well," Mr. Greene exhales, and Esme looks at me with a victorious smile on his face.
For the next hour, we talk about school schedule, school rules, code of conduct. Mr. Greene keeps asking what I need, how teachers should approach me. Esme keeps repeating that I'll do fine in written tests, and that teachers should not ask me questions in class.
The principal is worried. He's not saying it out loud, but I know he thinks I'll be trouble.
They talk some more. Mr. Greene rarely addresses me and refers to me as 'she.' As she has her books already, she should be able to start next Monday, should she want to.
She wants to.
Outside of the office, lunch hour starts. I try not to cringe when I hear the crowds in the hallway, but I don't think Esme misses it. The woman notices everything.
We talk about aggression. Esme makes a point of telling Mr. Greene I am not violent in any way. I think she's purposefully not mentioning the glass incident. But I'm not really violent. I'm too chicken shit to really fight back.
The talk moves on from future ambitions (Esme doesn't know them and I claim to have none yet) to subjects, and Mr. Greene buzzes his secretary and asks for a print of my timetable. The woman comes bustling into the office shortly after, all business, as she hands me a sheet of paper.
Esme looks along as I hold the paper up so we can both see it.
I already know my subjects, of course. English, Government, Trig, Spanish, Biology and Gym.
Gym.
Holy sweet Jesus fuck. I knew this would happen, but to see the word on the timetable makes my throat constrict.
Not now, Bella. Not now. Deal with it when it comes.
Around me, the meeting draws to a close. The atmosphere in the room shifts and as Mr. Greene clears his throat, Esme turns to me. "Do you have any questions?"
I shake my head. I'll be fine, once the novelty wears off. I'm more afraid about the other students than about the teachers, really. Mr. Greene has promised to notify all the teachers of the fact I don't speak, so that might be a nice head start. It will be less weird if they find out while I am already in their class.
That happened in Phoenix. It wasn't pretty.
In the school, the bell rings. Lunch hour has ended.
"All right. Listen, Bella, I need to discuss some other things with your foster mother," the principal says. "Here's a thought. Why don't you go to a class in the meantime? I'll give you a note for the teacher."
This is a test.
Apart from the alarm I feel, not knowing what they are going to discuss about me, I realize this is a test. Mr. Greene doesn't think I can handle this.
By sending me to class unexpectedly, he's either trying to get me to opt out, or seeing if I can suck it up and go through. And he thinks I will refuse. Or make some scene that will vouch him refusing me at his school.
He's so very wrong. I'm pretty sure I will be able to manage one period. I could assess the other students, see how the teacher is. If it's bad, it will be over soon. If it's good, it will be easier next Monday.
I'm worried about what Esme and the principal will discuss. Why does he want me gone?
I wouldn't know how to ask that. So, I nod and we all stand.
Mr. Greene hands me the note, but I can't accept it from him. I completely block, unsure how to fix this. Esme doesn't blink twice as she accepts the note from the principal and hands it over to me. The principal narrows his eyes, not speaking but very much willing to, I think.
Esme follows me as I walk to the door. I'm so, so hot in my winter coat, but I still don't dare to take it off.
The woman behind the desk looks up as I exit the office, smiling briefly before she looks back at her ancient computer screen again.
"Mrs. Cope?" Mr. Greene asks from inside his office, "would you please guide Bella to her class?"
Mrs. Cope appears from behind her desk, apparently unphazed by this sudden turn of events, and looks at me, smiling. "Bella, right? Come, let's go. Did I remember right you have Biology now?"
Her voice is warm and I'm immediately more at ease around her than I was around the principal.
Mrs. Cope introduces herself, then guides me out of the office. I halt in the doorway and turn to Esme, unsure.
"Go," she smiles. "Come meet me in the parking lot after?"
Her eyes are so kind and a warm feeling washes over me. All this trouble, and just for me. I hope she won't tell the principle about my past, but then again she told me she wouldn't do that.
Perhaps she will talk about her other children with him. It's not that far-fetched. And, not everything is about me. I do realize that.
I follow Mrs. Cope through the empty hallways. She chats away while she shows me around on the go.
"Don't worry dear, I think you'll be just fine here. I saw your grades of course when I was processing your file from your previous school, and you can be proud of yourself! If you ever have any questions, just come and find me, okay?"
We arrive at the classroom and she halts outside the door. "Can you do it alone from here?"
I swallow thickly and nod.
I can do this, I will have to.
Mrs. Cope beams at me and then, mercifully, she turns and leaves. Her heels tap curtly on the linoleum floor. I wait until she rounds a corner, then take a deep breath and mentally take a step back into the retreat of my mind.
What chance do I have that there is a Cullen in this class? Do I want a Cullen to be here? Or don't I?
Not that I have any say in it, now do I?
I scramble to remember who else does Biology in the house, but my mind is completely blank. No use trying to get myself to thinking about such things right now.
Steeling my resolve, I knock on the door once before I open it.
Twenty sets of eyes fly to me. It takes everything I have to not step back and run for dear life. Instead, I retreat further into my mind and look around the classroom quickly. High lab tables, three rows wide, seven rows deep. Windows all along the far side of the room.
My eyes fall on the teacher and he takes me in. "Can I help you?"
I swallow thickly once more. My throat is suddenly very dry. Clenching my free hand into a fist, nails digging into my skin, the pain a comfortable anchor to reality, I step inside the classroom and walk towards the teacher, who is sitting behind his desk.
Placing the note before him, I step back and wait while he reads. The memo contains a basic introduction; new student, my name, my lack of voice. No books for now.
The teacher is obviously beyond confused and I mentally curse Mr. Greene for doing this to me. Of course this is the real test. Does the man not realize he's testing his own teacher, too? Or was he just trying to find out just how mute I actually am?
"Bella, right?"
I nod, once.
"Very well," he says. "Welcome to my class. I'm Mr. Banner. There are two empty seats left, so take a pick."
He doesn't mention my muteness. He doesn't ask if I don't speak. He doesn't ask me to introduce myself in front of the class. He's either very considerate or he simply didn't read the note carefully.
In any case, he doesn't make me speak and doesn't seem to mind my silence.
But I need to find a seat. I've been holding up this class long enough already. Turning in the deafening silence, I try to ignore the eyes on me as I look over the tables.
The first empty place I spot is next to a guy with blue eyes and blond hair. He's curious, but the look on his face makes me shudder. I know that look. It's an appreciative look.
When I meet his gaze, I have the feeling he knows who I am, but how would he know?
Swallowing, I push my vision through the white noise of my half-closed mind, towards the back of the class.
And there sits Edward.
Alone at a table, he's next to the second free spot.
So, there is a Cullen in this class.
As I meet his gaze, he simply, calmly, slides his books to his side of the table. The slight nod of his head is almost imperceptible, but I see it.
He's inviting me.
When I take a hesitating step forward, he smiles, his eyes crinkling and one corner of his mouth turning upwards. It's a real smile.
He doesn't mind if I join him.
He's clearly not different around me after my breakdown last night.
Looking at the creepy blond guy in the front once again, I make up my mind.
I walk to the back of the class and slide on the stool next to Edward.
I'm tense, barely breathing and close to hyperventilating. Mr. Banner resumes his lesson like nothing has happened. At least ten sets of eyes are still on me though, having followed me on my trip towards the back of the class.
After a few endless minutes, Mr. Banner finally calls for attention and several heads whip forward again. The blond guy is last to turn.
I don't like him. Not at all.
Exhaling, I struggle to process it all, wringing my hands underneath the table.
Then, finally, I glance to my right, just as Edward turns to look at me.
"Hi," he whispers, and his smile is as wide as I've ever seen it.
Surprised by his kind look I blink, stunned.
He chuckles soundlessly. "What, can't I say hi?"
I shake my head, then nod, then frown, as I don't know how to explain that of course he can say hi.
He laughs at that, making sound this time, and of course some people turn to see what is happening. Mr. Banner glances over at us but doesn't stop talking. I hunch in my seat and look down at the table until all faces are looking forward again.
Edward rearranges his books so I can see what bit of theory Mr. Banner is talking about. I've already done this back in Phoenix, I realize.
"You good?" Edward then asks.
I nod slowly, looking at him from the corner of my eye.
"Good," he says.
He's so relaxed, and again he strikes me as disarming. A month ago he scared me out of my wits but we've come so far since then. He's never been nasty with me. He doesn't act differently around me while obviously he knows much more about me than I originally thought.
He carried me.
I remember hearing his heartbeat.
I made me tea when I was a bawling mess.
I shake my head a little to rid myself of all these memories. There are more important things to focus on. Being in a classroom full of people, for instance.
Yes, Biology. I try my best to listen to the teacher as he talks about the lab we shall do this lesson.
As if on a cue I must have missed, from every table one student gets up to get a microscope from the closet in the back of the room.
I look up for a short moment, wide eyed in shock, then focus on the table top again.
Please don't notice me. Please don't talk to me. Please.
"Be right back," Edward announces, and then he's up too, walking to the back of the class.
I remain sitting, my gaze locked on the table, trying to ignore the rumor around me. People are looking, lingering around the table, I can feel their eyes on me. Of course they would be curious. I clench my teeth and try to swallow some tension away.
"All right," Edward says as he plants the microscope on the table.
My eyes go wide as I take it in. It's as old as time.
Edward sees my gaze and chuckles. "Guess they had better equipment in Phoenix?"
Mr. Banner walks around the class with a tray and places specimens and a form on every table. When he reaches us, he smiles gently at me.
"Just try to see what you can do, okay? I'm sure Edward here will help you out."
"Will do, Mr. Banner," Edward replies.
When I look at Edward, I can see him smiling.
As Mr. Banner leaves, Edward's smile turns into a smirk.
"What was on that note?" he asks, incredulous.
Following his train of though easily, I can't help my own smile and shake my head. Edward slides a piece of paper towards me and a pen, a hopeful look on his face.
With shaking hands, realizing full well this is the first time I am ever communicating with him in this way, I take the pen and write exactly what was on the note:
Bella Swan. New student. Doesn't speak. No books for now. Memo follows.
Edward reads and scratches his head. "Jesus. You use more words when you communicate."
I breathe out a laugh at his comment and his face lights up as he smiles in return.
"Let's get this lab going. Do you know what we're supposed to do?"
I nod. I think I've done this lab before, in Phoenix.
"Good. Ehm, ladies first?"
Edward slides the prepared microscope towards me and watches as I adjust the lens. Without much effort, I identify the contents of the slide.
Reaching for the form, I write down: 'anaphase.'
"Mind if I look?" Edward asks, and I shake my head. He pulls the microscope towards him and looks briefly before he nods.
"Anaphase."
In my mind, I laugh out loud. He knows his stuff too. When I see him smirk at me from the corner of his eye, I am pretty sure he is thinking the same.
"How are things working out here?" Mr. Banner asks as he approaches our desk.
"Good," Edward replies.
I realize now Edward has not in any way made clear that he knows me. Why not? Would he be too embarassed to do so? Then again, why would he invite me to sit next to him? Does he want me to acknowledge him, or does he expect me to act as if I don't know him?
These thoughts flit through me in less than a second, and the teacher's voice continues, unaware of my thoughts, interrupting them.
"Very well. Bella, mind if I ask you some questions?"
I shake my head, but I can feel the muscles in my back tense up. Still, the man has an easy demeanor. He's pretty young, and he doesn't come across as your stereotypical teacher. I like him better than the principal, that's for sure.
"Forgive me for asking, but the note said that you don't speak?"
I nod. I expected this question to come first.
"How do you communicate? Sign language?"
I shake my head, hoping he'll realize soon that yes or no questions will work fine.
Beside me, Edward changes the glass under the microscope, but I can tell he's listening in.
"You just nod or shake your head?"
I nod again, glad he seems to be catching on.
"Very well. Ehm, are you getting along with your lab partner here?"
Edward finally speaks. "Mr. Banner, I know Bella. She lives with my family as a foster child. She's been with us for about a month now."
Oh, so he does acknowledge me. Why this is such a relief to me, I can't really grasp.
Mr. Banner's face lights up in understanding. Around him, I can see how most students have stopped working on their lab assignment and are looking at us now.
"No wonder you seem to work together so comfortably. Such luck for you Bella, to have Edward here to assist you in class. He's one of my brightest students."
"I'm pretty sure she outdoes me," Edward mumbles, and my head whips around to look at him.
Did he really just say that?
Mr. Banner seems to have heard, because he laughs. "Afraid of a little competition, Edward?"
Edward chuckles and slides the microscope towards me again. "Not at all. At least I finally got someone to help me explain Trig to Alice."
Their easy conversation baffles me, and if I'm not mistaken this is the second time in under a minute that Edward paid me a compliment.
I'd almost think if he was up to something by being so nice about me.
Mr. Banner throws his head back to laugh. Apparently Alice's struggles with Trig are well known in this school.
More eyes on us, now. I frown and jerk my head involuntarily, suppressing the urge to either run or shut down. Instead, I scrape all my strength together and look into the newly prepared microscope, my nerves exploding as I focus on the lens and leave myself unguarded for a moment.
Glancing at the form I see that Edward is still holding his pen. I hold up two fingers and Edward writes down the right term on the form. He doesn't ask to check on my answer, this time.
It's the easiness of this exchange that nearly undoes me. It's unsettling, to say the least.
But Mr. Banner smiles widely. "So that's how you communicate. Listen, Bella, I need to pay my other students some attention too, but just to be sure, you'll be in my class from now on?"
I nod, deciding in that moment that yes, I will do everything I can to be able to go to school here. Already it feels incredible to be in a school bench again, looks and whispers be damned.
"Very well. First of all, welcome, of course, and second, let's try to meet up after your classes sometime next week, so I can work out with you where you were in your classes at your old school, and perhaps get to know you better, find a way to communicate?"
I blink, then find myself able to nod. Every hair follicle on my body rises in high alarm and I can feel the blood draining away from my face.
Mr. Banner nods, smiling, and turns away to tend to his other students.
He wants to see me after class.
My breathing becomes shallow and I grip the table edge, feeling my knuckles whiting and the muscles in my hand protest. Deep down, I know there's no reason to panic. Rationally, I know he really just wants to talk with me.
But my traitor mind spits venom in my ears, wondering what will happen next week when Mr. Banner has me alone.
"Are you all right?"
Edward's voice is soft, worried.
I can't say yes, and I can't say no. Instead, I try to prevent my breathing to turn into hyperventilation. I can practically hear Edward thinking beside me.
"Um, Bella? Don't panic. Nothing happened, right?"
I actually manage to make myself nod, but my muscles are stiff with exertion.
"Oh shit, don't panic, Bella. I really wish I could put an arm around your shoulders right now. Honestly, there's nothing to worry about. What would you worry about?"
Still breathing erratically, I turn my head to look at him with wide, pleading eyes. Please don't ask.
Not understanding me, a hand goes to his hair, grasping it. "I don't know what to do," he says softly, honestly.
Around us, the students are still focused on their lab. My ragged breathing is covered by the noise in the class.
"Is there anything I can do?"
I shake my head. This is my own battle. I just need to get my breathing under control.
Oh Jesus Christ, I hope he won't call for Mr. Banner or anything.
It takes me a few long minutes, but finally I calm down again a bit.
Shaking with exhaustion, I struggle to get my breathing under control again.
"Better?" Edward asks softly. He's finished the lab while I was too busy panicking.
Shit, I should have done my part. Now I'm obliged.
But I nod, to answer his question.
"Okay. Well done, by the way. Must have been a battle to calm down like you did."
Yeah well, it would be better if I didn't panic in the first place, no?
I sigh and frown, upset with myself.
"Hey, just so you know, I didn't call out to you when you stepped into class because I didn't want to startle you. But when Mr. Banner came, I really thought he should know you live with us. I hope you don't mind?"
I look up at him and shake my head. Of course not. Did he really not say anything because he though I would mind? That's the world upside down, isn't it.
"Anyway, ehm, I finished the lab."
I want to make clear I'm sorry, but he shrugs it off. "Don't worry. Next time, you can help me out."
He smiles gently, and I feel the tight ball of nerves in my stomach uncoil a little again.
Just then Mr. Banner announces the end of class, and I can finally exhale fully. Around me, students get up like they're bitten and hand in their forms at the teacher's desk as others clear away the microscopes. During the commotion, the bell rings and the first students walk out the door immediately.
Edward remains seated beside me and calmly waits for me to get my breathing under control once more.
"You okay?" he asks.
I nod slowly, realizing the class is empty but for the two of us and Mr. Banner, who is sorting the handed in forms into a stash. He's not looking at us, but I know he's paying attention.
"I have to go to Spanish, but I can skip if you want me to stay with you," Edward says softly.
The worry and concern in his voice are palpable and they touch something deep inside me.
I shake my head though. I don't want him to miss classes because of me. It wouldn't be the first time, even. I don't want that on my conscience. What would Esme think, or do, if she found out?
"Are you sure?"
I nod, my heart still hammering but my breathing at least somewhat calm again.
"Okay. I'll hand in the lab results. He won't know I did most of it. Are you going to your next class now?"
I shake my head, and the relief of Edward telling me he won't tell the teacher of my lack of work does not go unnoticed by me.
I have to ask him while he's still willing to stand up for me. It's incredibly dangerous to ask for favors, I know, and I will perhaps pay for it for a long time, but this is so important to me that I have to try.
Underneath the note I wrote Edward earlier, I write something else.
Please don't tell Esme I panicked.
Edward reads and his brows furrow in confusion. "You don't want mom to know you almost panicked?"
I nod, hoping he will understand, thinking furiously of ways in which I can repay him.
"All right," he says, still unsure. "I don't think it's that big of a deal. But I do think you should tell her, though."
Ah, let that be my own decision to make.
"Edward, Bella, I think it's time for you to go to your next class," Mr. Banner says softly.
Nodding, Edward gathers his books and I slide off the stool, only now noticing I never took off my coat. My back is slick with sweat after what happened, and it doesn't feel very comfortable.
Edward goes to hand in the form as I pick up the microscope to put it back in the closet in the back of the class. I can hear him speaking softly with Mr. Banner, but can't make out the words as I'm half hidden behind the closet door.
"Oh, thanks," he says when I emerge from the closet again. "So are you going home now?"
I nod.
"Mom picking you up?"
Yeah.
"Okay. Do you think you can find the exit from here?"
I nod again. There are signs everywhere in this tiny, tiny school. There's very little chance I will get lost.
Edward smiles down at me, but his eyes are sad. "Come on then," he says and he holds out his arm in an inviting gestures as he turns towards the door.
I walk after him, out of the room. Edward walks with me until the first corner in the hallway.
"You good now?"
I nod. I didn't want to panic. I hope I didn't annoy him with it. Oh crap, why do I only realize this now?
"Okay. Shit, I really have to go. Talk to you later? You're home tonight, right?"
I nod, confused by his question. I mean, where would I go?
"All right. See you later, bye!" He rounds the corner and leaves me standing in the deserted hallway, utterly blown away by his easy kindness.
I am so confused.
Edward... Biology... I had to do it. Tell me what you think?
