It was Friday afternoon when the rain finally let up. I was relieved; no more rain meant no more frizzy hair. It was going to be a good day. At least that's what I thought until I tripped up the stairs into my second class. The day progressively became worse; I got spaghetti sauce on my khaki pants at lunch and burst a glass beaker in physics when I set it on a hot plate. At least Edward wasn't there. But no Edward meant no Jasper (I was told on sunny days their family headed up to the mountains to go backpacking). For some reason I was terribly nervous without him there at practice. I ended up messing so many lines up that Mr. McGregor sent me home early. He said I needed a break from all the long practices, and since it was a Friday he would let me have one. I argued that I was fine and I just needed a moment to get my thoughts in order but Mr. McGregor stood firm. Begrudgingly I headed home.

The weekend was long and boring. Like most other weekends I spent Saturday afternoon at the mall with Megan and Ashley walking around half listening to their talk of the boy of the week while rehearsing my lines over in my head. I had become quite skilled in putting the appropriate oh's and mhmm's in to make it seem as if I was actually listening. Megan never suspected anything, she was too busy with her own life, but Ashley was more perceptive. She'd never say anything to me, but I knew she was more clued in than Megan.

The rain returned on Sunday, turning the world dark, damp, and claustrophobic with the clouds seemingly pressing down on me. I attended church with my parents, my mind nowhere near the holy building as my thoughts settled on human beings with pale complexions and golden eyes.

The rain continued into Monday bringing Edward and Jasper with it. Practice that afternoon was much better, my lines coming easily to me. The stage crew was hurrying to finish construction and being that most the students in our school had plenty of extra cash the drama department raised enough money for another extravagant set. When finished it would resemble a large bedroom that would convert to the inside of a castle to a cell in an insane asylum. The play was to open at the end of the week, and the set crew had grown to a large number in order to finish on time, Edward being a part of this number. The set crew worked around the cast, our voices competing with the sound of hammers.

"I love him, I love him! Oh Mina. It's so wonderful! I've decided! I love him, and I've said yes." Rea Tamren, our Lucy in the play, declared.

I jumped up from the chair I was sitting in, clutching a letter. "Finally! Don't tell me. The Texan with the big knife?"

Rea laughed and shook her head, "Oh, no, to my dear number three – Lord Arthur Holmwood." Rea looked dreamily off stage, "Lord and Lady Holmwood. Would you want to be my maid of honor? Say yes." Rea looked expectantly at me, but I didn't say anything. I turned away feeling someone's eyes on me and found Edward staring at me from the far side of the stage. "Mina what is it? This is the most exciting day of my life. You don't seem to care."

I turned away from Edward to answer her, "It's just that I'm so terribly worried about Jonathan. This letter received is so cold. It's so-"

"LOOK OUT!"

I looked around to see all eyes were staring above me. I followed their gaze to see a large part of the castle falling towards me. I couldn't react, my legs were frozen. I turned to see Edward, eyes wide with horror. Then it hit me. The sound of splitting wood filled the room and I cringed, thinking of the massive splinters I'd received. Yet I didn't feel any pain. I opened my eyes to see Edward crouching over me. The set had crashed on top of him, splitting in half. How did one person manage that? If I had been hit by the wood I would've split in half. Not the other way around. And how did he get over to me so fast? He had been too far away to have just jumped on top of me. He would have had to move at the speed of light and unless he was Superman or Flash Gordon that wasn't possible.

"Are you alright?"

I stared into Edwards concerned eyes wondering why he was asking if I was okay when obviously it should be me asking him the very same question. Instead I focused on how he had 'saved' me. "How did you get over here so fast? You were over there…" I watched his face as I spoke, and his expression changed from concerned to distant.

"I knocked you to the ground and you hit your head pretty hard. You could have a concussion; we should get you to a doctor." He stood up while he spoke, pushing the wood aside.

"I'm fine. You're the one who could see a doctor; you've just had a wall collapse on you!" I pushed myself up shakily, and Edward put a hand around my waist to steady me. I looked around to see the crew busy at work, removing the broken set from the stage. Mr. McGregor was telling cast members to exit the stage and we would resume rehearsing in the drama room. Worried glances were cast at me, but it wasn't me they should be concerned about.

"Tate, are you alright?" Mr. McGregor put his hands on my shoulders, turning my attention to him. "You took a hard hit."

That ticked me off. "Why is everyone worried about me?" But that comment didn't help to make me sane.

"I think we should take you to a doctor." Mr. McGregor looked to Edward who steered me out of the auditorium. Honestly, I didn't understand why no one was worried about Edward. Was I that fragile in appearance?

I wasn't sent to a doctor but I was sent home despite my protesting. I was driven by Edward in his shiny silver Volvo, the windows down for the 'benefit of my health' as he said. Those were the only words he said to me the whole trip. I stared out the window, trees zooming past. I couldn't keep myself from glancing over to look at him. Who was he? Or should I be asking what was he? Human beings don't move that fast. Humans don't have gorgeous bronze hair, dazzling topaz eyes, and a smile to melt any girl's heart. And his brother and sister were just the same, inhumanely beautiful.

Edward cleared his throat and I noticed we were in my driveway. It hadn't felt like we were going fast but we got home a lot quicker than it took me. I put my hand on the door handle and paused. Turning back to look at him I asked, "Who are you?" He kept his face perfectly still, showing absolutely no emotion. When it was clear he wasn't saying anything I continued, "Are you Clark Kent? Flash Gordon?" He was smiling now, frustrating me even more. "You're different, not like everyone else."

"We're all unique."

"No. Not you. You're a different unique."

He continued to smile.

"Been bitten by any radioactive spiders lately?"

"No."

The car was silent for a moment.

"Kryptonite doesn't bother me either."

I shook my head and stepped out of the car, and before I shut the door I could've sworn he muttered, "Déjà vu".