(I posted two chapters today, so make sure you've read 15)

16. A Wednesday

"So all in all, you should be sharing your Punnett results with how many people?" Mr. Banner asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Three," Bella said softly. No one heard her, and no one else answered.

Banner's eyes fell shut in a long-suffering sort of grimace. For the love of— Does no one listen to me when I speak? He sighed. "You are sharing results with how many people, ladies and gentlemen?"

Another beat of silence passed. Bella's cheeks flared pink, but she didn't speak up again. Curious.

I didn't want to waste my air, but I couldn't remain silent. "Three," I answered, and then added, "apparently," just loud enough for Bella's ears.

Banner threw a hand in the air. "Thank you, Mr. Cullen. Yes, three. Thank heaven someone is awake this morning."

He continued his instructions, but Bella's face did not grow any less crimson. She flicked her eyes my way.

I really shouldn't have gone to class today. I was being incredibly foolish. Alice had skipped her Biology class this morning, so Jasper had been beside himself when I announced that I had no intentions of evading mine.

We were discussing genetics, and our assignment from the previous evening had been to go home and collect data on the eye colors of our various family members— parents and siblings— to see if we could figure out the dominant and recessive traits of each person. Today, we were sharing our results with other members of the class, beginning with our seat partner.

Eye color and genetics were obviously both perilous subjects for a vampire. We certainly did not need anyone studying our inhuman eyes, nor did we need anyone noticing the similarities between one of us and our "adopted" siblings.

And yet, I was here.

"Why?" Jasper had asked with barely-contained exasperation. "Why risk it, Edward? Do you want the girl to notice?"

That was the thing. Did I want Bella to notice? Did I want her to see me with clear eyes, to finally realize the truth about the vile creature who couldn't seem to stay away from her?

Perhaps I did. Perhaps she would run and never look back. Perhaps she would succeed where I have failed.

"That's truly the only reason I can fathom for your intentional recklessness," Jasper had continued. "You insist that you want to leave the girl human, yet you tempt fate with something like this?"

"I've missed too much school already," I had argued. "Truancy draws more attention than a silly little assignment. Besides, our eyes look nearly normal today. Within the brown family, certainly."

It had been less than a week since we hunted, so our eyes were still a soft shade of orangey gold, close to amber. Jasper had given in once Alice had promised that nothing ill would come of me attending class that day, but I had a feeling he wouldn't have relented if Rosalie had been there. After our family argument, Carlisle recommended that she and Emmett take a few days away from the house. They had decided to catch a luxury car expo in Prague. Good riddance, really.

Bella cleared her throat, eyes fixed on the black tabletop. "So… Would you like to go first, or should I?"

I shrugged, leaning my chair back so far that it was balancing on two legs. "You can go. I didn't do the assignment."

Her eyes flicked up to mine, and that darling little v-shaped wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. "You didn't do it?"

"Nope." I popped the p sound at the end of the word. Her eyes bore into mine, but I didn't look away.

For some reason, her face flushed again. It took all of my century's worth of self-control to stay in my chair, my casual grin on my face, with those unfathomable eyes peering into my own. I swallowed a mouthful of venom and wondered again if she could read my mind.

"Why not?"

Of course she was curious. Bella Swan was too curious for her own well-being. It was more than that, though. She seemed nearly angry. I shrugged again, and if my vision had not been supernaturally sharp, I would have missed the subtle way her eyes narrowed at the corners.

Suspicion.

Once again, I longed to peer into her mind. Did she know? Was she analyzing my eyes? Was she noting their eerie hue and remembering the empty, voracious black of last week?

I was prepared to claim that the assignment had been impossible for me to complete due to my "adoption" at the age of five, but I was sure Bella would see right through that. I'd seen the way she looked at Carlisle in the hospital, her clever little brain piecing together the Cullen puzzle in a way that no other human had ever managed, so I didn't provide any excuses. Instead, I just met her stare, both willing her to figure it out and praying that she wouldn't.

"You always do your work," she accused.

"Do I?"

She scowled. "Yes. You do."

I laced my chuckle with as much condescension as I could manage. "I think you've been reading too many mystery novels, Bella Swan."

Her face went red as a tomato again, and her eyes flicked down to her backpack where I knew The Hound of the Baskervilles was hiding in its neat little plastic bag. "Whatever, Cullen," she muttered, heaving a tiny, well-managed sigh like she was right on the edge of losing her temper. "It's your grade."

That was another thing I had noticed about Bella Swan. She rarely let her anger loose, preferring rather to stuff it down and cover it with a smile— that was unless, of course, she was dealing with me. With me, it was all huffs and puffs and grinding teeth, tiger kitten growls and wide, flaring nostrils. Obviously, I got under her skin, as the saying goes. The thought settled warm in my belly. Perhaps I mystified her in the same infuriating way that she mystified me.

She pushed her notebook between us so that I could see the results of her neat little Punnett square.

"Alright. Well." She closed her eyes. I imagined her counting backwards from ten in an attempt to diffuse her anger. The possibility amused me greatly.

"My dad has brown eyes and my mom has blue. I have brown."

The way she said brown— like it was boring and ordinary and something of which to be ashamed— left me stunned— breathless, had I been breathing. Didn't she know what those eyes did to me? How they tortured my every moment— my yesterdays and my todays and far into my tomorrows?

"Obviously, I received the dominant brown allele from my father, but my mom's homozygosity means that I must have also inherited the recessive blue trait." She continued on, touching her finger to various spots on the paper while she spoke, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from her face. "My dad's second allele is a mystery, since he never had any other children."

How could she think she was anything less than perfect?

She jumped down to the bottom of the worksheet where she had to predict the probability of her own children's eye color. "It's possible that my children could have blue eyes, but it's more likely that they'll have brown eyes, since that allele covers up the other colors. I hope for their sake that they beat the odds and get eyes like my mom's."

I let my gaze sweep over her expression— lips rolled in, eyelashes down, a pained smile bunching at her cheek— like she was apologizing for the same eyes that both drove me mad and held me captive. How could she look in the mirror and see something other than what I saw?

A fresh sort of hell bloomed in my imagination, one where I would spend century after century looking into pair after pair of sparkling chocolate eyes, crippled with longing for the long-dead woman from whom they had descended. Is this the future that awaited me? That Bella would grow old and die a peaceful death, yet I would remain eternally awake, seeking after some semblance of her in her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren?

"You shouldn't," I murmured, throat tight.

Her breath caught and her blood thrummed wet beneath her skin. She glanced up at me, guarded, like she thought I was mocking her. "What?"

I couldn't speak. I stared into her eyes, simultaneously willing her to see the truth in mine and praying desperately that she never would.

"Alright," Banner hollered from his desk in the corner of the room. "Rotate, rotate—"

A gradual chaos erupted around us— chairs scraped, papers fluttered, voices called to friends— but Bella's eyes stayed locked on mine.

"Remember, this is partner number two, folks," Banner yelled above the din.

Mike hustled over, eager for Bella to choose him as her next partner. "Hey," he said. I found his grin quite repulsive. When Bella failed to answer, his glare flicked to me. He found my expression equally distasteful.

I tapped a single cold finger on Bella's paper as I stood, nodding a silent farewell. Banner's eyes were on his email. Instead of choosing another partner, I used the milling of the crowd to cover my escape to the hallway. The door clicked shut, and I pulled in a breath of air untainted with Bella's scent.

There's a rock in my belly, and I can't get it out. Would I always carry this ache inside of me?

Jasper was close, just down the hallway. It feels like your little experiment failed, Edward, he noted to me with more than a hint of disapproval. You're very lucky it didn't end in disaster. If she figures out what we are, you will be forced to act. No more idling in neutral.

I ignored him, choosing instead to go make my company among the trees until the bell rang again.

Thanks for reading, and thank you especially to you kind reviewers. Your encouraging words keep the ideas sparking.