ELSA POV

The next day was better… and worse.

It was better because it wasn't raining yet, though the clouds were dense and opaque. It was easier because I knew what to expect of my day. Jack came to sit by me in English, and walked me to my next class, with Chess Club aladdin glaring at her all the while; which was kind of odd. People didn't look at me quite as much as they had yesterday. I sat with a big group at lunch that included Jack, aladdin, Cinderella several other people whose names and faces I was starting to remember. I began to feel like I was treading water, instead of drowning in it.

It was worse because I was tired; I still couldn't sleep with the wind echoing around the house. It was worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trig when my hand wasn't raised and I had the wrong answer. It was miserable because I had to play volleyball, and the one time I didn't dodge out of the way of the ball, I somehow managed to hit two of my teammates in the head with it. And it was worse because Anna Cullen wasn't in school at all.

All morning I was dreading lunch, fearing his bizarre glares. Part of me wanted to confront her and demand to know what her problem was. While I was lying awake in my bed, I even imagined what I would say. But I knew myself too well to think I would really have the guts to do it. I made the Cowardly Lion look like the Terminator.

But when I walked into the cafeteria with Cinderella— trying to keep my eyes from sweeping the place for her, and failing entirely— I saw that her four adopted siblings were sitting together at the same table, and she was not with them.

Jack intercepted us and steered us to her table. Cinderella seemed elated by the attention, and his friends quickly joined us. But as I tried to listen to their easy chatter, I was terribly uncomfortable, waiting nervously for the moment she would arrive. I hoped that she would simply ignore me when she came, and prove that I was just paranoid and making a big deal out of nothing.

She didn't come, and as time passed I grew more and more tense.

I walked to Biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, she still hadn't showed. Jack, who was taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walked faithfully by my side to class. I held my breath at the door, but Anna Cullen wasn't there, either. I exhaled and went to my seat. Jack followed, talking about an upcoming trip to the beach. She lingered by my desk till the bell rang. Then she smiled at me wistfully and went to sit by a girl with braces. I was starting to think I would have to do something about Jack; I wasn't entirely sure if her attention was just an overly eager friendliness or something else.

In a small town like this, where everyone lived on top of everyone else, diplomacy was essential. I didn't tend to make a big deal of who I found attractive. It was just easier that way. Besides, it hadn't really mattered up to now. No one really paid attention to me in Phoenix, anyway.

I was relieved that I had the desk to myself, that Anna was absent i think she was at a therapy session because of mental health i guess. I told myself that repeatedly. But I couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason she wasn't there. It was ridiculous, and egotistical, to think that I could affect anyone that strongly. It was impossible. And yet I couldn't stop worrying that it was true.

When the school day was finally done, and the blush was fading out of my cheeks from the volleyball incident, I changed quickly back into my jeans and navy-blue sweater. I hurried from the boys' locker room, pleased to find that I had successfully evaded my retriever friend for the moment. I walked swiftly out to the parking lot. It was crowded now with fleeing students. I got in my truck and dug through my bag to make sure I had what I needed.

Last night I'd discovered that Agnarr couldn't cook much besides fried eggs and bacon. So I requested that I be assigned kitchen detail for the duration of my stay. He was willing enough to let me take over. I also found out that he had no food in the house. So I had my shopping list and the cash from the jar in the cupboard labeled FOOD MONEY, and I was on my way to the Thriftway.

I gunned my deafening engine to life, ignoring the heads that turned in my direction, and backed carefully into the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot. As I waited, trying to pretend that the earsplitting rumble was coming from someone else's car, I saw the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their car. It was the shiny new Volvo. Of course.

I hadn't noticed their clothes before— I'd been too mesmerized by their faces. Now that I looked, it was obvious that they were all dressed exceptionally well; simply, but in clothes that subtly hinted at designer origins. With their remarkable good looks, the style with which they carried themselves, they could have worn dishrags and pulled it off. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. It didn't look as if it bought them any acceptance here.

No, I didn't fully believe that. The isolation must be their desire; I couldn't imagine any door that wouldn't be opened by that degree of beauty.

They looked at my noisy truck as I passed them, just like everyone else. Except they weren't like anyone else. I saw the girl with the Turquoise streak — cassandra—had her hand casually on the golden prom queen hip. Despite their

obvious confidence, I couldn't help but feel surprised that she would do that in a small town like Forks. Looked like the rumors Cinderella mentioned were true. The edgy blond boy caught me looking, and the way he narrowed his eyes made me turn straight ahead and punch the gas. The truck didn't go any faster, the engine just grumbled even louder.

The Thriftway was not far from the school, just a few streets south, off the highway.

It was nice to be inside the supermarket; it felt normal. I did the shopping at home, and I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly. The store was big enough inside that I couldn't hear the tapping of the rain on the roof to remind me where I was.

When I got home, I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them in wherever I could find an open space. I hoped Agnarr wouldn't mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in marinade and balanced it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge.

When I was finished with that, I took my book bag upstairs. Before starting my homework, I changed into a pair of dry sweats, ran my fingers through my damp brown hair, and checked my e-mail for the first time. I had three messages.

"Elsa," my mom wrote.

Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you already. I'm almost finished packing for Florida, but I can't find my pink blouse. Do you know where I put it? Phil says hi. Mom.

I sighed and went to the next. It was sent eight hours after the first.

"Elsa," she wrote…

Why haven't you e-mailed me yet? What are you waiting for. is everything alright dear? Mom.

The last was from this morning.

Elsa Nora Anderson, If I haven't heard from you by 5: 30 p.m. today I'm calling Agnarr.

I checked the clock. I still had an hour, but my mom was well known for jumping the gun.

Mother,

Calm down. I'm writing right now. Don't do anything rash.

Elsa.

I sent that, and began again.

Mom,

Everything is great. Of course it's raining. I was waiting for something to write about. School isn't bad, just a little repetitive. I met some nice kids who sit by me at lunch.

Your blouse is at the dry cleaners— you were supposed to pick it up Friday.

Agnarr bought me a truck, can you believe it? I love it. It's old, but really sturdy, which is good, you know, for me.

I miss you, too. I'll write again soon, but I'm not going to check my e-mail every five minutes. Relax, breathe. I love you.

Elsa.

I had decided to readWuthering Heights— the novel we were currently studying in English— yet again for the fun of it, and that's what I was doing when Agnarr came home. I'd lost track of the time, and I hurried downstairs to take the potatoes out and put the steak in to broil.

"Elsa?" my father called out when he heard me on the stairs.

Who else? I thought to myself.

"Hey, Dad, welcome home."

"Thanks." He hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I bustled about the kitchen. As far as I was aware, he'd never shot the gun on the job. But he kept it ready. When I came here as a child, he would always remove the bullets as soon as he walked in the door. I guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident, and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose.

"What's for dinner?" he asked warily. My mother was an imaginative cook, and her experiments weren't always edible. I was surprised, and sad, that he seemed to remember that far back.

"Steak and potatoes," I answered, and he looked relieved.

He seemed to feel awkward standing in the kitchen doing nothing; he lumbered into the living room to watch TV while I worked. We were both more comfortable that way. I made a salad while the steak cooked, and set the table.

I called him in when dinner was ready, and he sniffed appreciatively as he walked into the room.

"Smells good, Elsa i see you started cooking."

"Thanks dad i have been practicing when I was with mom."

We ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't uncomfortable. Neither of us was bothered by the quiet. In some ways, we were well suited for living together.

"So, how did you like school? Have you made any friends?" he asked as he was taking seconds.

"Well, I have a few classes with a girl named Cinderella like from the fairy tale. I sit with her friends at lunch. And there's this boy, Jack Frost, who's very friendly. Everybody seems pretty nice." With one outstanding exception.

"That must be Jackson Overland Frost. Nice kid— nice family. His dad owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. He makes a good living off all the backpackers who come through here."

"Do you know the Cullen family?" I asked hesitantly.

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure. Dr. Cullen's a great man."

"They… the kids… are a little different. They don't seem to fit in very well at school."

Agnarr surprised me by looking angry.

"People in this town," he muttered. "Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here," he continued, getting louder. "We're lucky to have him— lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town. He's an asset to the community, and all of those kids are well behaved and polite. I had my doubts, when they first moved in, with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have some problems with them.

But they're all very mature— I haven't had one speck of trouble from any of them. That's more than I can say for the children of some folks who have lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should— camping trips every other weekend.… Just because they're newcomers, people have to talk."

It was the longest speech I'd ever heard David make. He must feel strongly about whatever people were saying.

I backpedaled. "They seemed nice enough to me. I just noticed they kept to themselves. They're all very attractive," I added, trying to be more complimentary.

"You should see the doctor," Agnarr said, laughing. "It's a good thing he's happily married. A lot of the staff at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him around."

We lapsed back into silence as we finished eating. He cleared the table while I started on the dishes. He went back to the TV, and after I finished washing the dishes by hand— no dishwasher— I went upstairs unwillingly to work on my math homework. I could feel a tradition in the making.

That night it was finally quiet. I fell asleep quickly, exhausted.

The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes. By Friday I was able to recognize, if not name, almost all the students at school. In Gym, the kids on my team learned not to pass me the ball and to step quickly in front of me if the other team tried to take advantage of my weakness. I happily stayed out of their way.

Anna Cullen didn't come back to school guessing that she was still at therapy

Every day, I watched anxiously until the rest of the Cullens entered the cafeteria without her. Then I could relax and join in the lunchtime conversation. Mostly it centered around a trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks that Jack was putting together. I was invited, and I had agreed to go, more out of politeness than desire. Beaches should be hot and dry.

By Friday I was perfectly comfortable entering my Biology class, no longer worried that Anna would be there. For all I knew, she had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about her, but I couldn't totally suppress the worry that I was responsible for her continued absence, ridiculous as it seemed.

My first weekend in Forks passed without incident. Agnarr, unused to spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend. I cleaned the house, got ahead on my homework, and wrote my mom more bogusly cheerful e-mail. I did drive to the library on Saturday, but it was so poorly stocked that I didn't bother to get a card; I would have to make a date to visit Olympia or Seattle soon and find a good bookstore. I wondered idly what kind of gas mileage the truck got… and shuddered at the thought.

The rain stayed soft over the weekend, quiet, so I was able to sleep well.

People greeted me in the parking lot Monday morning. I didn't know all their names, but I waved back and smiled at everyone. It was colder this morning, but happily not raining. In English, Jack took her accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz onWuthering Heights.

It was straightforward, very easy. All in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable than I had thought I would feel by this point. More comfortable than I had ever expected to feel here.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. The wind bit at my cheeks, my nose.

"Wow," Jack said. "It's snowing."

I looked at the little cotton fluffs that were building up along the sidewalk and swirling erratically past my face.

"Yeah." Snow i haven't see that much snow since i moved here from Norway

He looked surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah." Obviously. "Besides, I thought it was supposed to come down in flakes— you know, each one unique and all that. These just look like the ends of Q-tips."

"Haven't you ever seen snow fall before?" he asked incredulously.

"Sure I have." I paused. "When i lived in norway."

Jack laughed. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of her head. We both turned to see where it came from. I suspected Aladdin who was walking away, his back toward us— in the wrong direction for his next class. Jack apparently had the same notion. She bent over and began scraping together a pile of the white mush.

"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" I kept walking as I spoke. "Once people start throwing wet stuff, I go inside."

he just nodded, her eyes on aladdin retreating figure.

Throughout the morning, everyone chattered excitedly about the snow; apparently it was the first snowfall of the new year. I kept my mouth shut. Sure, it was drier than rain— until it melted in your socks.

I walked alertly to the cafeteria with Cinderella after Spanish. Mush balls were flying everywhere. I kept a binder in my hands, ready to use it as a shield if necessary. Cinderella thought I was hilarious, but something in my expression kept him from lobbing a snowball at me himself.

Jack caught up to us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting in his rapidly curling hair. he and Cinderella were talking animatedly about the snow fight as we got in line to buy food. I glanced toward that table in the corner out of habit. And then I froze where I stood. There were five people at the table.

Cinderella pulled on my arm.

"Hello? Elsa? What do you want?"

I looked down; my ears were hot. I had no reason to feel self-conscious, I reminded myself. I hadn't done anything wrong.

"What's with Elsa?" Jack asked Cinderella .

"Nothing," I answered. "I'll just get a soda today." I caught up to the end of the line.

"Aren't you hungry?" Cinderella asked.

"Actually, I feel a little sick," I said, my eyes still on the floor. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Jack make a concerned face, Cinderella discretely shuffled a few steps away from me. I waited for them to get their food, and then followed them to a table, my eyes on my feet.

I sipped my soda slowly, my stomach churning. Twice Jack asked, with unnecessary concern, how I was feeling. I told her it was nothing, but I was wondering if Ishouldplay it up and escape to the nurse's office for the next hour.

Ridiculous. I shouldn't have to run away. Why was a freaking out? I was just being starting at. It wasn't like Anna Cullen was going to stab me with a knife.

I decided to permit myself one glance at the Cullen family's table. If she was starting at me, I would skip Biology, like the coward I was.

I kept my head down and glanced out of the side of my eye. None of them were looking this way. I lifted my head a little.

They were laughing. Anan, Jasper, and cassandra all had their hair entirely saturated with melting snow. Alice and rapunzel were leaning away as cassandra shook her dripping hair toward them. They were enjoying the snowy day, just like everyone else— only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.

But, aside from the laughter and playfulness, there was something different, and I couldn't quite pinpoint what that difference was. I examined Anna the most carefully. Her skin was more pale ever, I decided— flushed from the snow fight maybe— the circles under her eyes much less noticeable. But there was something more. I pondered, staring, trying to isolate the change.

"Elsa, what are you staring at?" Cinderella intruded, her eyes following my stare.

At that precise moment, her eyes flashed over to meet mine can. Then i felt thestrange connection again.

I quickly turned my head completely towards Jeremy, shifting my shoulders in his direction, too. Cinderella leaned back, surprised by my sudden movement.

I was sure, though, in the instant our eyes met, that she didn't look harsh or unfriendly as she had the last time I'd seen her. She looked merely curious again, unsatisfied in some way.

"Anna Cullen is staring at you," Cinderella in my ear.

"She doesn't look afraid of me, does she?" I couldn't help asking.

"No," she said, sounding confused by my question. "Should she be?"

"I think she is afraid me," I confided. I still felt queasy. I felt like she was staring at me.

"The Cullens don't like anybody… well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them. But she's still staring at you."

"Stop looking at her," I insisted.

She snickered, but she looked away.

Jack interrupted us then— she was planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school and wanted us to join. Cinderella agreed enthusiastically. The way she looked at Jack left little doubt that she would be up for anything she suggested, I wondered if Jack would notice his enthusiasm. I kept silent. I would have to hide in the gym until the parking lot cleared.

For the rest of the lunch hour I very carefully kept my eyes at my own table. I decided to honor the bargain I'd made with myself. Since she didn't look angry, I would go to Biology. I started feeling knots in my stomach at the thought of sitting next to her again.

I didn't really want to walk to class with Jack as usual— she seemed to be a popular target for the snowball snipers— but when we went to the door, everyone besides me groaned in unison. It was raining, washing all traces of the snow away in clear, icy ribbons down the side of the walkway. I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased. I would be free to go straight home after Gym.

Jack kept up a string of complaints on the way to building four.

Once inside the classroom, I saw with relief that my table was still empty. Mrs. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn't start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, doodling idly on the cover of my notebook.

I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but my eyes stayed carefully focused on the pattern I was drawing.

"H-H-Hello," said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, stunned that she was speaking to me. She was sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but her chair was angled toward me. Her hair was dripping wet, disheveled— even so, she looked like she'd just finished shooting a commercial. Her dazzling face was bir friendly but still filled with anxiety open, a slight shy smile on her flawless lips. But her eyes were careful.

"M-M-M-My n-n-n-n-name i-i-i-is A-A-A-Anna C-C-C-C-Cullen," she continued. "I-I-I d-d-d-didn't h-h-h-have a-a-a-a c-c-c-c-chance t-t-t-to i-introduce m-myself l-l-last w-w-week. Y-Y-You m-must be E-E-E A-A-Anderson."

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? She was perfectly polite now. I had to speak; she was waiting. But I couldn't think of anything conventional to say.

"H-how do you know my name or you psychic or something like that?" I stammered.

She laughed a soft, enchanting laugh.

"Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town's been waiting for you to arrive."

I grimaced. I knew it was something like that.

"No," I persisted stupidly. "I meant, why did you call me Elsa?"

She seemed confused. "is that not your name?"

"No, I was just well shocked" I said I mean you haven't met me and you know my name I laughed a beautiful girl like you oh my god I'm rambling sorry " I tried to explain, feeling like an utter moron.

"Oh sorry." She let it drop. I looked away awkwardly. and then her expression turn from happy to sadness.

Thankfully, Mrs. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as she explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes, she would be coming around to see who had it right.

"Get started," she commanded.

"A-A-After y-you, p-partner?" Anna scammers. I looked up to see her smiling shirley a crooked smile so beautiful that I could only stare at her like an idiot.

She raised her eyebrows. "Or I could start, if you wish.

"No," I said, flushing. "I'll go ahead." I was showing off, just a little. I'd already done this lab, and I knew what I was looking for. It should be easy. I snapped the first slide into place under the microscope and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective. I studied the slide briefly.

My assessment was confident. "Prophase."

"Do you mind if I look?" she asked as I began to remove the slide. Her hand caught mine, to stop me, as she asked. Her fingers were ice cold, like she'd been holding them in a snowdrift before class. But that wasn't why I jerked my hand away so quickly. When she touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, pulling her hand back immediately. However, she continued to reach for the microscope. I watched her, still staggered, as she examined the slide for an even shorter time than I had.

"Prophase," she agreed, writing it neatly in the first space on our worksheet. She swiftly switched out the first slide for the second, and then glanced at it cursorily.

"Anaphase," she murmured, writing it down as she spoke.

I kept my voice indifferent. "Mind if I look?"

She smirked and pushed the microscope to me.

I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, only to be disappointed. Dang it, she was right.

"Slide three?" I held out my hand without looking at her.

She handed it to me; it seemed like she was being careful not to touch my skin again. I took the most fleeting look I could manage.

"Interphase." I passed her the microscope before she could ask for it. She took a swift peek, and then wrote it down. I would have written it while she looked, but her clear, elegant script intimidated me. I didn't want to spoil the page with my clumsy scrawl.

We were finished before anyone else was close. I could see Jadk and his partner hiccup comparing two slides again and again, and another group had their book open under the table. Which left me with nothing to do but try to not look at him… unsuccessfully. I glanced up, and he was staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes. Suddenly I identified that subtle difference in his face.

"Did you get contacts?" I blurted out unthinkingly. She seemed puzzled by my unexpected question.

"No."

"Oh," I mumbled. "I thought there was something different about your eyes."

She shrugged, and looked away.

In fact, I was sure there was something different. I vividly remembered the flat black color of her eyes the last time she'd glared at me— the color was striking against the background of her pale skin and her white hair. Today, her eyes were a completely different color: a strange gold, darker than butterscotch, but with the same warm tone. I didn't understand how that could be, unless she was lying for some reason about the contacts. Or maybe Forks was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word.

I looked down. Her hands were clenched into hard fists again.

Mrs. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren't working. She looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, and then stared more intently to check the answers.

"So, Anna, didn't you think Elsa should get a chance with the microscope?" Mrs. Banner asked.

"y-y-yes ma'am Anna said automatically. "Actually, she identified three of the five."

Mrs. Banner looked at me now; her expression was skeptical.

"Have you done this lab before?" she asked.

I smiled sheepishly. "Not with onion root."

"Whitefish blastula?"

"Yeah."

Mrs. Banner nodded. "Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?"

"Yes."

"Well," she said after a moment, "I guess it's good you two are lab partners." She mumbled something else as she walked away. After she left, I began doodling on my notebook again.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Jack asked. I had the feeling that he was forcing himself to make small talk with me. Paranoia swept over me again. It was like he had heard my conversation with Cinderella at lunch and was trying to prove me wrong. Which was impossible. I really was becoming paranoid.

Not really," I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else. I was still trying to dislodge the stupid feeling of suspicion, and I couldn't concentrate.

"You don't like the cold." It wasn't a question.

"Or the wet."

"Forks must be a difficult place for you to live," she mused.

"You have no idea," I muttered darkly.

She looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn't imagine. Her face was such a distraction that I tried not to look at it any more than courtesy absolutely demanded.

"Why did you come here, then?"

No one had asked me that— not straight out like she did, demanding.

"It's… complicated."

"I think I can keep up," she pressed.

I paused for a long moment, and then made the mistake of meeting her gaze. Her dark gold eyes confused me, and I answered without thinking.

"My mother got remarried," I said.

"That doesn't sound so complex," she disagreed, but she was suddenly sympathetic. "When did that happen?"

"Last September." My voice sounded sad, even to me.

"And you don't like him," Anan surmised, her tone still kind and sky.

"No, Phil is fine. Too young, maybe, but nice enough."

"Why didn't you stay with them?"

I couldn't understand her interest, but she continued to stare at me with penetrating eyes, as if my dull life's story was somehow vitally important.

"Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living." I half-smiled.

"Have I heard of him?" she asked, smiling in response.

"Probably not. He doesn't playwell. Strictly minor league. He moves around a lot."

"And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him." She said it as an assumption again, not a question.

I straightened my shoulders automatically. "No, she didn't send me here. I sent myself."

Her eyebrows knit together. "I don't understand," she admitted, and she seemed unnecessarily frustrated by that fact.

I sighed. Why was I explaining this to her? she continued to stare at me with obvious curiosity.

"She stayed with me at first, but she missed him. It made her unhappy… so I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Agnarr" My voice was glum by the time I finished.

"But now you're unhappy," she pointed out.

"And?" I challenged.

"That doesn't seem fair." She shrugged, but her eyes were still intense.

I laughed once. "Hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair."

"I believe Ihaveheard that somewhere before," she agreed dryly.

"So that's all," I insisted, wondering why she was still staring at me that way.

Her gaze became appraising, she tilted her head slightly to the side.

"You put on a good show," she said slowly. "But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

I shrugged.

"Am I wrong?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I don't entirely understand you, that's all." she raised an eyebrow at me.

"Why would you want to?" I asked, frowning.

"That's a very good question," she muttered, so quietly that I wondered if she was talking to herself.

However, after a few seconds of silence, I decided that was the only answer I was going to get.

I sighed, staring at the blackboard.

"A-a-am I-i-i a-a-annoying y-y-you?" she asked. she sounded amused.

I glanced at her without thinking… and told the truth again. "No. Not exactly. I'm more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read— my mother always calls me her open book." I shrugged.

"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read." Despite everything that I'd said and she'd guessed, she sounded like she meant it.

"You must be a good reader then," I replied.

"U-u-usually." She smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultra-white teeth.

Mrs. Banner called the class to order then, and I turned with relief to listen. I was in disbelief that I'd just explained my dreary life to this bizarre, beautiful girl who may or may not despise me. She'd seemed engrossed in our conversation,

but now I could see, from the corner of my eye, that she was leaning away from me again, her hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakable tension.

I tried to appear attentive as Mrs. Banner illustrated, with transparencies on the overhead projector, what I had seen without difficulty through the microscope. But my thoughts were far away from the lecture.

When the bell finally rang, Anna rushed as swiftly and as gracefully from the room as she had last Monday. And, like last Monday, I stared after her with my jaw hanging slightly open.

Jack rushed to my table almost as quickly. I imagined his with a wagging tail.

"That was awful," he groaned. "They all looked exactly the same. You're lucky you had Cullen for a partner."

"I didn't have any trouble with it," I said, stung by her assumption. I regretted the snub instantly. "I've done the lab before, though," I added before she could get his feelings hurt.

"Cullen seemed friendly enough today," he commented as we shrugged into our raincoats. he didn't seem pleased about it.

I tried to sound indifferent. "I wonder what was with her last Monday."

I couldn't concentrate on Jack's chatter as we walked to Gym, and P.E. didn't do much to hold my attention, either. Jack was on my team today. She helpfully covered my position as well as her own, so I only had to pay attention when it was my turn to serve; my team ducked warily out of the way every time I was up.

The rain was just a mist as I walked to the parking lot, but I was happier when I was in the dry cab. I got the heater running, for once not caring about the mind-numbing roar of the engine. I unzipped my jacket, put the hood down, and ran my fingers through my damp hair.

I looked around me to make sure it was clear. That's when I noticed the still, white figure. Anna Cullen was leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from me, and staring intently in my direction. I swiftly looked away and threw the truck into reverse, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Corolla in my haste.

Lucky for the Toyota, I stomped on the brake in time. It was just the sort of car that my truck would make scrap metal of. I took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again, with greater success. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but from a peripheral peek, I could swear I saw her laughing a bit.