19. A Monday

Bella's hair was wet when she arrived at school.

It had killed me to stay away from her all weekend. When I dressed that morning, it was with a tangible sense of relief. Being near her was torture, but it was worse when we were apart. For two eternal days, every faculty of my supernaturally powerful brain was trained on wondering over where she was, wondering over her actions and her stillness, the words she spoke and the words she chose not to speak. For three agonizing nights, I fought the urge to go find her.

I should have known that seeing her again would only bring me more frustrations. Bella Swan, after all, was an unceasing enigma, a black hole of a puzzle, and the more I tried to learn about her, the deeper I sunk into her mystery.

I watched her through Mike's eyes as she hung her raincoat on one of the hooks by the door of the English building. Wet hair was not entirely uncommon in Forks, but most high school girls seemed careful to avoid it. A halo of frizzy little ringlets framed her face, flowing down into heavier waves— darker than normal— around her shoulders.

What was to blame? Did she wash it this morning? Or was it the rain? I had to know. I had to know.

I realized then that I had assumed she normally showered at night, based on what I knew of her scent. Bella's hair was usually dry, and it smelled very faintly of fruit. I'll admit I've never paid much attention to the aromatic subtleties of human foods, but I would have to call it strawberry if pressed. More than shampoo, though, I normally smelled her, just her mouth-watering floral scalp, which made night showers seem more likely to me than morning. I wished I could smell her now, but she was in a different building.

What had she done in the hours between when I last saw her and now that would have forced her to break her routine? Was she too tired? Was she with someone? A boy?

As I could see it, there were a handful of possibilities.

My first theory: She was simply tardy, and she had no time to dry her hair. It was amusing (merely, perhaps, because she was such a staunchly responsible person) to picture Bella running late. How many minutes did she allow herself in the mornings? Sometimes I wondered if she ran out of the door without even so much as a glance in the mirror. Her outfits looked so carelessly thrown together— along with her a way of tossing her from side to side, unconcerned with where her part fell— that made her seem entirely unconcerned with her appearance. Not that she needed to be, of course. In my eyes, there was no beauty so perfectly imperfect as Bella's.

But still, wet hair was not her usual brand of effortless grace. Did she prolong her sleep at the cost of her image? I smiled at the thought— Bella, drowsy and warm and a little bit grumpy, fumbling to switch off the offending alarm clock for a few more minutes, grabbing the first outfit her hands touched, and then dashing through the door on her way to her dinosaur of a truck without stopping to consult her reflection. I chuckled. Alice would be appalled.

But if she had slept in late, why hadn't she showered the night before?

Another theory: Bella fell asleep early, forcing her to shower in the morning instead of keeping to her usual bedtime routine.

I could picture it— Bella curled in a chair, maybe, or draped across a couch, a book resting like a tent on her chest. Or maybe she fell asleep at the table in that yellow kitchen I had once glimpsed in Alice's vision (different now, of course, with Bella so vibrantly alive). I imagined her there, scrawling away at her homework- Trigonometry, perhaps, or something that would make her forehead pinch together in that endearing little scowl- a cookie in one hand, her eyes slinking closed over and over until she finally laid her drowsy head atop her textbook and succumbed to her dreams. When it got late, Chief Swan would try to rouse her— gently, for he was a tender man— and then carry her off to bed when he realized she was too far gone.

Another theory, more unwelcome that the ones previous: Perhaps she had gotten in late last night, too exhausted for her evening routine. Perhaps she had been out late with someone— a suitor?— and had lost track of time. I did not like this course of thought. I tried not to dwell on the mental picture of Bella showering some undeserving male with her smiles. I pulled my fingers into a tight fist.

Irritated that I even cared in the first place, I scoured the thoughts of everyone I suspected might know the answer. Jessica, Angela, Lauren, even Mike, but none of them were thinking of Bella's wet hair.

Mike sat next to her during first period, halfway listening to Mr. Varner's lecture, poking holes in the edge of his paper with the tip of his pen. I tried to glean any bit of smell from his thoughts- couldn't he at least catch the strawberry?- but he hadn't noticed much. Ugh, human senses were so dull. I would have to let my mind fill in the blanks.

As I left my first class, I checked to make sure her truck was in the parking lot, even though I had heard it rumble to a stop when she arrived that morning. It was there, of course, parked right next to Saul and Levi Jefferson's little red Taurus. So she hadn't walked to school in the rain.

I watched her through Jessica's eyes as she waved goodbye to Mike.

— can't imagine what he sees in her, to be honest. Gosh, look at her hair. What a mess. You wouldn't catch me looking like that on my deathbed-

I snorted softly. Even through Jessica's eyes, I thought Bella looked— well, there was no other word for it, truly— lovely. She had wrapped her hair back into a chaotic twist, and pieces fell down from it artfully, like a mess of wildflowers spilling over the edge of a forgotten window box. She was as elegant as a painting. How could anyone appreciate the beauty of a mountain stream winding idly down hills and valleys and not see the easy, effortless glory of this soft little human?

"Hey, Bella," Jessica smiled, duplicitous as always.

"Hi, Jess," Bella said. "Ready for the quiz?"

I chuckled because Jessica had forgotten about it.

She cursed internally, but she kept the smile on her face. "Always. You and Mike sure looked smiley. Anything new going on there?"

I found myself sharing Jessica's distaste for the idea, but for much different reasons.

Bella's eyebrow twitched up. "Ha, no. We're just friends." This is what Bella always said when someone asked her about Mike. She changed the subject abruptly, leaving me with just as little information as I had before. "What part of the chapter did you study? I wasn't sure if I should focus more on the theory or the practicals at the back—"

"Oh, all of it," Jessica lied with a dismissive shake of her head. "I like your hair, by the way. Cute."

Bella frowned slightly and reached up to feel her bun. "Really? Thanks." Her cheeks looked a little pink. "It was wet, so…"

Wear it like that all the time, Jessica sneered. Maybe then everyone will catch on to what a slob you are.

I seethed as I quickly changed into my gym clothes. Maybe someone should tell Jessica that her hair smells burnt all the time. It looks burnt, too. That flat iron was not doing her any favors.

Oof. What's got you all sunshine and rainbows this morning? Alice asked when she saw my scowl.

I rolled my eyes. "It's nothing."

Nothing? she thought with a grin, letting Bella Swan's face flit to the forefront of her mind. I completely believe you, of course. She twirled in the middle of the court.

I passed the basketball with excessive force, which was stupid. It whizzed through the air like a bullet, making several students around us turn their heads to find the source of the sound. If Alice hadn't caught it, it would have been the end of the ball for sure, and possibly a chunk of the bleachers behind her. Alice's lip curled up slightly, showing a glimmer of her shiny teeth.

"Sorry," I murmured, just soft enough for her ears.

I'm on your side, you know.

And she was. Alice was more understanding than any of my other siblings. It was wrong of me to treat her so rudely. I tipped my head and nodded.

I accept your apology, she thought with a sniff.

Lunch was hardly better, but at least I could spy on Bella through all the eyes at her lunch table.

Jasper nudged me. "Would you calm down? You're making my teeth hurt."

I grimaced as I squirted a packet of smelly yellow sauce onto my lunch. I squeezed too hard and it all came out in one glob on top of the bland little stack of squares. A turkey sandwich, I reminded myself, echoing the words I had read from the label on the refrigerator shelf. It smelled revolting, much worse than the granola from last week. "It's nothing."

Emmett chuckled. "You haven't even had class with her yet." He was imagining Bella, too, in the way he pictured all humans— lumpy skin, thundering heart, eyes wide with fear—

I peeled my lips back from my teeth.

He sniffed the air in the direction of Bella's lunch table, oblivious to my warning. "You can smell her from here? There's too many of them for me to tell which one is—"

"Enough." It came out with a growl.

Rosalie scoffed. Pathetic.

What happened, Edward? Alice asked silently. In her mind, she looked ahead to how I would sit next to Bella silently in Biology, just the same as always. She was frustrated that she had missed whatever event had caused my stress that morning. Like a nosy child with her big brother's toys, she kept poking around, looking further and further into the future.

"Stop," I said, teeth gritted in an effort to restrain from taking a swing at any of my siblings. "It's really nothing. You're going to think it's stupid."

Rosalie popped open the tab on her can of soda. It hissed like it had a temper of its own. "Well heaven forbid we should get to know any of your thoughts, Edward. We might think they're stupid."

She had a point. I sighed and relinquished a polished version of my torment to them. "I would like to talk with her, but, obviously, that is not possible." It was true, but I hoped it was bland enough for them to lose interest.

"Well..." Alice said, eyebrows raised.

"It's not possible," I repeated through my teeth.

"What would that solve, Edward?" Jasper asked, but not unkindly.

I hesitated. They would definitely think it was stupid, but they were the ones pressing me. "She… she deviated from her routine this morning, and— stop staring at her, Emmett— I just want to know why. Mere curiosity."

"Which routine?" Alice pressed. Rosalie narrowed her eyes.

I sighed. "Her hair was wet when she got to school."

Emmett chuckled. "It's raining, Einstein."

I narrowed my eyes. "She has a hood. It's always raining and, yet, her hair is always dry. Except for today."

"Why does it matter?" Rosalie said, shaking her head.

"It just does."

Jasper was silent. He tried to keep his mind silent as well, but I caught the bewildered tone of his thoughts nonetheless. The rest of them didn't try to hide from me. Rosalie was irritated, Emmett mocking gleefully, and Alice sympathetic.

You know… Maybe I could ask her? Solve your mystery for you.

"No, Alice."

I left for Biology before the bell rang, keeping in my usual routine. A mystery, Alice had called it. Ugh. Rosalie was right— I was pathetic to get so caught up in the insignificant complexities of this frail human girl. And yet, could I still qualify Bella as such? In my mind, she was neither frail nor human. She wasn't even simply a girl. No. She was a siren— beguiling and mystical and entirely worthy of my fascination.

"Mr. Cullen," Banner greeted me with a nod.

I had slipped my homework into the turn-in basket and meandered over to my seat before I realized he had spoken. "Oh. I apologize. Good afternoon, Mr. Banner."

He chuckled. "A lot on your mind?"

I gave him a tight smile. "You could say that."

Bella arrived at last. The relief I felt at having her by my side again was so potent that I nearly sighed. She ignored me, as usual, choosing instead to lean her head down on top of her arms, her face turned away from me. I braced myself for the burn and took one shallow breath. My head spun with the force of her fragrance, but I closed my eyes and let it scorch me. There was definitely some strawberry today. More than usual, though? Perhaps I was just looking for it.

Newton perched in his usual spot. "You look tired," he said, ruffling her hair. I was glad that I was back to holding my breath— the smell was sure to be divine in the worst sort of way.

Bella sat up, her smile a little too tight. Mike immediately regretted his casual touch, worried that he had annoyed her. I was happy to agree with his evaluation. There was definitely something delightfully long-suffering in the way her lips pressed together.

"I guess I am," she muttered.

Ah, perhaps my hypothesis was correct. Which was it? What had put her to sleep? A novel? Trigonometry? Did she have a cookie in her hand?

"Rough night?" Mike pressed. Bless him, that ugly bag of bones, for asking the questions that I could not.

She shrugged. "Didn't get in 'til midnight."

He immediately assumed she was out with a boy, so his next comment came out disparagingly. "I'm surprised that your dad was okay with that. School night and all."

I shot him a withering look over Bella's head, but he didn't see it. What was he, Bella's warden now? Never mind the fact that I harbored similar thoughts.

Bella laughed, the good-natured thing that she was. "He was with me. Our neighbor's dog got out again. You remember Mrs. Satterthwaite? We chased her dog all the way to the park before Dad got ahold of him."

Ah. I had my answer, but instead of satisfying my curiosity, it made me long to know more— to know her more. Was there any end to Bella's quiet goodness? Of course she was out late helping someone else. I could see her now in my mind's eye, collapsing down into a fluffy bed, too tired to shower, too tired to do anything other than slip the shoes from her feet. There had been no novel, no homework, no cookie, no human boy to soak in her smiles— just a neighbor in need.

"Oh. Well, that was nice of you," Mike said.

Bella shrugged. She didn't seem to think it worthy of praise. "Did you hear that we're starting basketball in gym today? Pray for me."

Mike snorted. "Pray for me." I caught a quick glimpse of his imagined Bella tripping over her own shoe and launching the ball right into his face. The way his head snapped back with the hypothetical pain left a satisfied smirk on my mouth. Let us hope that, like Alice, Mike possesses a bit of precognition in his human form.

Mr. Banner's voice rang out over the chatter. "Last call for homework. Last call, and then I'm collecting the basket."

"Shoot," Mike said, taking his eyes off of Bella and hurrying back over to his backpack to find his assignment.

Bella laid her head back down on her arms, and I was left to study her in peace.

It means so much to me that you're still reading! Thank you, as always, to you lovely souls who leave a review. You keep me going. :) If you have an idea for a future chapter, please feel free to leave it in the reviews or shoot me a PM. I would love to hear it.